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LADIES^  AJVD  GEJVTLEMEJV^S 

MAGAZINE. 


BY  LUTHER  PRATT. 


**  SiBS,  TS  AMK  BBXTHKKN.* 

Acts,  yii^lZd. 


VOL.  !• 


PUBLISHED  BT  BENEDICT  BOLMORE, 

(la  oonjnnetion  with  the  Editor,) 
No.  70  Bowery. 


1821. 

•igitizedbyCiOOQlC 


xv^> 


THE  NBW  TOM 
PUBLIC  IIBRART 

2d7089B 

AffTOB,  LENOX  AND 

TQibEN  FOL'NliATiONB 

B  1944  L 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


9t9it»H0n4^ 


To  all  True,  Free,  and  Accepted  Masons, 
throughout  the  world,  this  work  is  respcct- 
fullj  dedicated,  bj  their 

Affectionate  Brother, 

and  Companion, 

LUTHER  PRATT. 

New-York,  August,  A.  D.  1821 ,  A.  L.  6821 .      , 


CAaat^u*^  ''^1*-  V>*  •  '  \H4 


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TABIiE  OF  CONTENTS. 


Oripn  and  Proj 


HA80MC.  PAOB. 

•grt«  of  Mammrfp  .  9 

Onaeacemeat  of  BtoiNiry  is  America,  4 

te^oirite  qvalifications  of  a  candidate,  41 
fnfowm%  a  candidate,  ibid. 

k  l>i^,  mA  hs  government,  42 

Eteetioo  of  oOcars,  ibid. 

Dttles  of  the  sereral  ol&een  in  a  mas- 
ter Mason's  lodge,  41 
lliBberto  be  initiated,  privilege*,  at- 

teodance>  and  befaavloar,  44 

lie  eorernmoAt  of  the  fratemitj-  '  202 
Ac  fnt  and  Isot  care  of  a  Mason,  204 
AG&A«o  LoDOB  45 

Efection  of  grand  oiBeers,  46—^ 

Bites  to  Iw  observed  in  the  absence  of 

any  of  the  grand  officers  ibid. 

Giand  visttaitions,  feasts,  be.  49 

Of  a  new  lodge,  and  form  of  awar- 

nmt,  81 

Of  eoDstitnting  and  consecrating  a 

k>dte,  and  installing  its  officers,  82, 121 
Gtsad  procession  83 

Addrass  io  Free  Mstsons  in  general,  90 
fm  points  of  feUowsbip,  and  secrecy,  92 
(joural  Grand  Roycd  Afch  CcnstitU' 

Horn 
fieaeral  grand  chapter,  8 

■and  chapters,  10 

nate  diapters  and  lodges  12 

ConititaCing  new  chanters,  IB 

Officers  ofuie  general  grand  chapter,     16 

Ckarffe$. 
Te  &e  officers  on  the  mstaUatlon  of  a 

kMlge,  121 

OMiag  a  lodge,  204 

dbshig  a  lodge,  205 

laitiation  into  the  first  degree,  ibid. 

latiatieo  of  a  ctesgvman,  206 

Foretgaer,  207 

Soldier,  ihid 

liiitiation  Isto  the  second  degree,         291 

Thud  degree,  335 

Advancement  into  the  Foitfth  degrte,  874 

At  oprain^  a  mark  master's  lodge,        872 

iaitiatioB  into  the  decree  of  most  ex- 


celleat  master, 

407 

To  a  newly  eiaked  compaakm, 

460 

At  opening  a  bridge, 

125 

Laying  foandation  stones, 

162 

The  dedication  of  flipsoa's  hafls, 

163 

Fonerals, 

ibid. 

Opening  and  closing  a  lodge 
Ctoaing  a  royal  aroa  chapter 

208 
460 

,  Prayeny 

By  Doctor  W.  Smith,  124 

At  opening  a  lodge,     ,  204 

At  making  a  Miiison,  205 

To  be  used  daring  the  ceremony  of 
exaltation  to  the  royal  arch  de- 
gree, 456 
LectureSy 
On  the  degree  of  an  Entered  Appren- 
tice, 260 
Felk>w  craft,             260,332 
Master  Mason,  334 
Mark  master,  372 
Present  and  past  master,  406 
Most  excellent  master,     407 
Royal  Arch  Mason,  463 
Parable  to  be  recited  previous  to  clos- 
ing a  mark  master's  lodge  374 

Cardinal  Virtues. 
Brotherly  love,  relief,  truth,  temper- 
ance, 369 
Fortitude,  Prudence,  Justice,  370 

Emblenu. 
Tyler's  sword,  guarding  the  book  of 

constitutions,  370 

The  three  steps^  ibid. 

The  sword  pointing  to  a  neked  heart,  ibid. 
All-seeing  eye.  Anchor  and  ark,  ihid. 
Hoar-glass.    Pot  of  incense,  ibid. 

Bee-hive     Scythe,  871 

Orders  of  Proceisum, 
Grand  procession  at  installing  a  lodge,   83 
At  laying  foundation  stones,  uc.  201 

At  a  funeral,  or  on  any  common  oc- 
casion, 202 

Masonic  Miscellany. 

Address,  by  Br.  William  B.  Rochester,    92 
by  Br.  Lewb  Deffebach,  126 

by  M.W.  Br. Daniel  D.Tompkins,  134 
by  the  late  Br.  B.  F.  Lewis  138 

by  Br.  G.  W.  Doan,  821 

Discourse,  by  Rev.  Br.  Joseph  Hughes,  17 
on  the  death  of  Thomas  Smith 
Webb,  by  dittoy  166 

by  Rev.  Br.  David  Young,  861 

Sermon,  by  Rev.  C.  W.  Cloud,  extract 
from  867 

Oration,  by  Sir  George  Howard,  4t 

by  Br.  De  la  Motta,  281 

by  Br.  William  Burke,  401 

by  Br.  M.  R.  Sayers,  442 

Masonic  Information,  6, 54, 268 

Lbt  of  lodges  under  the  jurisdiction  of 
the  grand  lodge  of  Kentucky,  87 

List  of  the  grand  officers  of  the  most 
P.*.  Sov.-.  grand  consistory,  181 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


VI 


COKTBltTI. 


List  of  pest  OMften  in  the  eitjr  and  ▼!• 

cinityofNew-Yorky  9» 

List  of  lodges  sabordtnaie  to  tiie  grtnd 

lodge  of  Indiana,  898 

Officers  of  the  grand  lodge  of  Ilew- 

Tork,  in  1820,  17 

By-laws  of  Bloomfield  ^.)  lodge  88 
Grand  encampment  of  the  state  of 

New-Torfc,  99 

Columbian  encampment  of  knights 

templars,  89, 469 

Grand  council  of  royal  ipaster  BAa- 

.  sons,  89,  414 

Aaron's  band  of  royal  priests,  ibid. 

Masonic  precepts,  92 

Grand  lodge  ot  Connecticut,  120 

Grand  lodge  of  Ohio,  181 

Grand  lodce  of  New-York,  414 

Form  of  Return  from  subordinate  to 

grand  lodges^  125 

Grand  chapter  of  Ohio,  215 

Grand  chapter  of  Kentucky,  292 

Subordinate  chapters  to  the  same,  298 
Charity,  the  first  ofMasonic  duties,  184 
Masonic  Hall  at  Philadelphia,  dedica- 

"tion  of  .     187 

Reasons  for  Masonic  secrecy,  140 

Persecution  of  Masonry,  141 

A  New  Inquisition,  178 

Elections  (n  the  city  and  vicinity  of 

New-York,  174 

General  remarics  on  the  eicdleney  of 

Masonry,  202 

Masonic  character  of  Washington,  207 
Weakness  of  the  objections  against 

Masonry,  210 

Elegant  Extract,  212 

Sketches  of  the  royal  art,  215 

Character  of  Joseph  Clay,  Esq.  216 

To  Masonic  clergymen,  ibid 

A  tme  servant  will  obey  hit  matter,      217 

A  nobleman's  address,  249 

John  Locke's  letter,  with  ancient  ques- 
tions  and  answers  concerning  Ma- 
sonry, 254 
Mason's  Oiith,  ancient  documents  con- 

ceminc,  294 

Masonic  celebration  at  Boston,  802 

Fortitnde  Lodge,  at  Brooklyn,  ibid. 

Masonic  eitracts  from  old  records,  886 
Upper  Canada,  state  of  Masonry  in  826 
Cross's  Masonic  Chart,  review  of  829 
Query,  as  to  tlie  rights  of  visiters,  838 
Answer  to  the  same,  899 

Pmiherrenkaiks  on  the  tame  qiiery»  461 
Masonic  Arab,  866 

Pythagorian  problem,  ■   871 

Companion  Hanfs  Masonic  Miscel- 

iMy,  899,  468 

The  Christian  Mason,  409,411,448,451 
l&sonic  Han,  SimpsQii  lodge,  d(!dina- 

tion  of  (Ky.)  488 

(c  Neir  Inqnidtioft"  defeated*        '      ibid. 


Moiotnc  Potiry* 

Od«ibrtle|etava]afSt.Jo1in,  24 
To  the  Grand  Architect  of  the  Untvene,  ib. 

Psalm,  G» 

Hymns,                                         89,  141 

Songs,                                              59,  804 

German  Odet,                         59,  99,  14t 

Odes,                      98,  141,  142,  108,  808 

On  Benevolenee,  99 

The  Mntnn'r  Dwighler,  100 

Anthem,  181 

Poetical  Address,  209 

BfatDu's  Adieu,  210 

Free  Mason's  ISpiMvh  n^r  Bagdad,  .  269 
Entered  Apprentice's  3onff,         888,334 

Fellow-craft's  song,  88^ 

Master's  song,  83<$ 

Mark  mstfter't  tmig,  87« 

Present  or  Past  matter's  sMig,  124 

Moat  ALcallent  roatter't  toag,  408 

Royal  Areh  toMgf  461 

Royal  Arch  ode,  ibid 

Royal  matter's  ode,  99 

Jacob's  Ladder,  371 

Sca&a  Ccen,  372 

Installation  of  St.  Alban's  lodge  )  ^^^ 

No.  60*  i 

To  a  Bfason,  by  an  uninitiated  friend,  439 

l^SCELLANEOUS. 
Anecdotes  76,  187 

Ant,  the  114 

Archbishop  of  Cologne  197 

Audley,  the  usurer  233 

Aerial  voya^ps^  of  M.  Guille  890 

Ancestral  pnde  421 
Aerial  voyage  of  M.  Fontaine,  with 

others  425 

Bark,  the  crewless  115 

Ball-bait  116 
Backwoodsman— Arthur  Fitsroy  191, 22^ 

Beautilnl  illustration  n  267 

Blind  man  receiving  tight  308 

Boa  Conttfictor  884 

Cfaari^,  a  fragment  35 

Cfaristtans  in  China  73 

Crime,  cause  of  112 

Crown  118 

Card-table,  symptAhiet  af  a  156 

-Cmation,  wonders  of  217 

Caleutta,  black  hole  of  219 
daudine,  an  inlefestlBg  Swiss 

tale  225,  262,  304 

CoatF*tedjoys,  268 

Convict  388 

Dysentery,  bfailifala  amn  for  the  77 

Drett,  decency  in                  ^  117 

taste  In  lemale  beanly  and  341 

Deaf  and  dumb  enred  383 

l^jumrsion  66 
Eugenia  de  Bttraa^a                     71, 107 

I^  of  MM         /  ^^ 

Egyptian  desert  420 

EmpedocletaBdQaolaret  423 

Female  Shariffi  7^ 


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P^wUdui,  anecdote  of 
FI(Mr<er  g;iri 
ttoftoor,  poiDt  of 
■oM*t7  ^^  ^^^^  policy 
floly  ludin  : 


leleresUiig  eonfettion 

loy,  stimoge  effect  of  exceidve 

iMity  BeBJamifi  F.  obKaary  of 

Cyis^  failiioaable 

Leedoe  fashioiis 

leAes'  dress,  recipe  for 

Irfrte,  ntiooal 

ttiifcj,  diepherdsof  tke 

£«r 

tm  Sapper 

ft0MMMIii  b*^'  Soi^fbey 

AotDtain,  siDKhig  of  a 

Iba  of  By  choice,  the 

ihteiionial  Irappiiiess 

IKrea,  Botder  of  Miss 


MfaA 


Moiiiage  rtate 

tfcmlriji  I,  mode  of  catcbing 
jMynk  Indian,  courage  in 
**  ' "    Tta,  story  of 

for  propelliog  YcsseU 
in  Orave-yvd. 
iphs  Cotjue  If y 

Mare,  varietief  of 
Wyoteon  on  snicidb 


Muitelfale,  an  yKeretting  IO99 
^■^^1  Boy,  Roflfian 
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barbaiity 


m 

290 

483^ 
166 

wr 

474 
IM 

414,  475 
436 
40 
70 
77 
ibid. 
117 

875 
4»i 
36 
115 
152 
I58r 
154 
185 
186 
1«4 
ll»8 


377 

884 

484 

477 

76 

116 

807 

487 

140,188 

154 

265 

86 

77 

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ftfcftiia  Brwdl,  kmeTaot 
rawafeuoe,  extraordinary 
IJtafiBg  Qnestion 
ftw  laahiation 

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BandttI 
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41^ 

424 

«0 

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i37 
S6d 
969 
^40 
424 
471 
87 

s. 

186 


fibgnlar  Retitioii  185 

Stogolar  Phenomenon  106 

SMish  Wife  228 

Stngubr  Preservation  264 

Salt  Moontain  at  LonisiaMi  267 

Seal,  caught  at  Wolf  Ishkad  263 

Stenth  Carolina  law  342 

^nrat,  Coffee-house  of  379 

Sorrows  Unseen  414 

Short  Dialogue  424 

Second  Adveat  DispensatidB  429 

Silver  Mine,  new  434 

Sleed  Misguided  472 

Snuff  and  TobaAsco  ibid 

Slander  473 

Tennessee,  Antiquities  of  75 

Theophilns  and  Acaston  78 

Ti  me-pieee,  a  faithfbl  1 1 4 

Thirst,  Extraordinary  43«i 

Washington,  Eulogy  on  34 

Woi^horse  150 

Wood  rendered  incombustible,  197 

Woman  436 

Youthful  Solitary                      '  33 

Young  Ladies,  prudent  hint  to  ld3 

Young,  Dr.  anecdote  of  237 

HiBtoricaL 

Anti<juities,  Irish  28 

Architecture,  Gothic  143 
Alexander's  expedition  into  India  310, 349 

Archduke  Charles  231 

Bergen-op-Boora,  siege  of  269 

Chinese  Chaquin  ]04 

Csssar,  Julhis  a^d 

Courage  jo^ 

Curios  Dantatut  loa 

Covetousness  149 
Cd.  Ponsonby,  miraculons  escape  of  271 


Caaabiandt 

Cherries,  the  feast  of 

Diana,  temple  of  at  Ephesus 

Emperor  Francis  IL 

(•eorge  IT. 

^enry,  earl  of  Hobatia  * 

HeUry  II. 

|Ibrne,Oeoive,Rev. 
Henry  IV,  of  France 
Aiilexible  father 
Imtiiolation  of  human  befngs 
tavtontlon  to  discover  conspiracies, 


Jackson,  bioefranhy  of  general 
Mtalta,  islandot 
Mkcdononah,  commodore 
Kapoleon,  Memoirs  of 
pomponius,  a  Roman  knight 
Ro^an  Secrecy 
tlobetpierre,  fall  of 
Sketches  of  History 
SanPietro  ' 
Ticoaderoga,  ruins  of 
Wesley,  Rev.  John 
Wallace,  Sir  WUliam 

AiLi  .  ^^graphical 
Amca,  Journal  ofa  voirage  to 
Arkaasaw  Territory      ^, 

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469 
ibid 
149 
231 
470 
105 
106 
ibid 
231 
64 
66 
105 


344,386 
273 
313 
464 
105 
65 
S35 
28 
315 
145 
106 
815 

25 
142 


VUI. 


COMTPIITS. 


Ashantee,  kingdom  of,  in  Africa  274 

Cairo,  Description  of  68 

China  proper  108 
Calcutta  27«,8M 
Bwing's  Geography,  obiecratioBf  on      27 

Important  Discovery  103 

Lenox  Academy  6ft 
Madeira,  island  of                           60,  IQO 

Mount  Ararat,  364 

Madras               '  «M 

Spitsbergen,  and  the  Arctic  seas  182 
United  States,  Northwestern  region  of 

the                                    '^^  144 
Agricultural. 

Address  by  Josiah  Quincy  29 

Apples,  large  6$ 

Agriculture,  Systematic  ^id 

Beans,  early  comfort  bush  275 

Butter,  winter  l67 
Cider,  art  of  makine  and  bojUeing      .   81 

Cattkk  cure  for  canker  in  68 

Salt  for  do  278 

Caterpillars,  to  destroy  ?78 

Cabbages,  early  *Wrf 

Cow,  the  Holderness  318 

Chestnuts,  horse  866 

Com,  Indian,  and  seed  885 

Extraordinary  product  167 

Fruit  trees,  manure  for  278 

Fruit,  to  force  early  866 

Flowers  867 

Horses,  foundered  277 

OU  cakes  866 

Peach  trees,  cure  for  67 

Potatoes,  seed  817 

prodigious  818 

Seed,  eariy  68 

Squash,  East  India  277 

Tea-plant  167 

Poetical. 

Artist,  a  perfect  120 
Amusement,  winter  evenings  for  Jane 

•  "and  me           •  240 

And  what  is  life  200 

Affection  358 

Bulfbait,  reflections  on  a  1 19 

Balloons,  progress  of  397 

Church  Fellowship  160 

Cypress  tree  240 

Chanson,  French  imitation  of  437 

Corporation  of  NewrYork  478 

Divine  Love  80 

Wealth,  address  to  190 

Drunkard,  the  200 

Epistle  to  Miss*—  198 

Enigma  109, 


Enigma,  solutions  of  the  1 
Epistle  from  a  young  man  to  liis  friend  279 

Falling  Tower  88 

Grave,  the  snow-covered  SM9 

Godisnigh  487 

Heaven  80 

Happiness,  the  only  239 
Hope                                     169,  279,  320 

Happy  Man  ibid 

Infant,  death  of  an .  88 

Love,  I'm  not  in  79 

Lines  by  Donald  Fmser  89 

To  Miss  A.  S.  79 

To  Miss  H.  M.  B.  120 

To  Miss  F.  A.  t5ul 

To  Mrs.  Mary  L.  199 

Love,  by  Henrietta  289 

Lines  to  Isabella  367 

Life,  the  games  of  400 
Lady,  to  a  little,  but  very  handsome     437 

Life,  the  morning  of  480 

Mira,  lines  to  88 

Melancholy,  Ode  to  1 19 

Muse,  the  169 

May,  Sonnet  to  868 
Merchant,  on  the  death  of  Geo.  Henry  479 

Negro's  Lamentation  119 

Ni^t,  by  Philo  Oscar  240 

Ode  to  Kambrae,  by  Pindar  360 

PariE  Theatre  160 

Pilgrim,  the  way-worn  199 

Pleasure  368 

Paper,  on  a  sheet  of  blank  ibid 
Reflections  by  a  person  in  hb  sixtieth 

year  120 

Recollections,  pains  of  168 

Sigh,  by  a  young  lady  bom  blind  38 

Sister's  Grave,  evening  visit  to  a  79 

Sabbath,  80 
Spring,  Ode  to                              278,  818 

Skeleton,  the  279 

Sleeping  in  church,  linea  on  900 

Satire  ibid 

Stanzas  319 

Simile  for  the  ladies,  Urid 

Time,  Sonnet  to  di8 

Utrum  Horum  369 

Watch,  on  a  38 

Woman,  a  question  t6ui 

Woman,  by  Moses  T.  S«ott  79 

Wanderer,  the  118 

Wish,  the  120 

Woman,  piety  in  280 

Wisdom  and  Scieoet  367 

Tears  tacoma  280 

Zephyr,  the  3ia 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


THE 


AMERICAN  MASONIC  REGISTER, 

AND 

Ladies'  and  Gentlemen'^s  Magazine. 


BY  LUTHER  PRATT. 


Whoever  thinks  a  faultier  piece  to  see, 
ThiDlu  what  ne'er  was,  nor  is,  nor  e'er  will  he ; 
In  every  work  regard  the  writer"?  end, 
Since  none  can  compass  more  than  they  intend. 


POFE. 


[No.  I.]  FOR  SEPTEMBER,  A.  D.  1^20.  A.  L.  5820.         [Vol.  I.] 


irnHODUCTORY. 

lb  aU  Free  and  Accepted  Masons  in 
parHcuiar^  and  to  the  Public  in 
gemeraL 
Bbothers  and  Friends, 

The  principles  on  which  the  institu- 
#ni  of  Free  Masonry  is  founded,  and 
dbe  respect  to  which  it  is  entitled,  need 
BO  odier  comments,  than  that  it  has 
stood  the  test  of  experience,  and  has 
hncigfatened  by  use,  through  a  long  se- 
ries of  ages ;  that  it  has  at  all  times  been 
embraced  and  defended  by  some  of  the 
greatest,  and  best  of  men,  and  that  it 
mow  presents,  throughout  the  civifized 
world,  a  greater  body  of  talent,  virtue, 
and  respectability,  than  was  ever 
■Bited  in  any  other  social  institution 
of  iraman  inventton .  No  apology  can 
dierefbre  be  necessary,  for  devoting  a 
periodical  publication  to  so  important 
an  interest.  To  the  Mason,  if  well 
ecroducted,  it  will  furnish  the  ancient 
iaadmarhs  of  our  order,  and  the  rules 
by  which  he  is  to  squarb  his  conduct 
vUh  a  brother,  and  with  all  man- 
kiod  ;  it  will  brighteti  and  refresh  his 
iatrilect,  and  present  his  mind  with 
many  valuable  materials  for  that  edi- 
fice, on  which  it  is  his  delight  to  la- 
botir^   and  when  labour  sh?ifl  give 


place  to  refreshment,  it  will  even  ren- 
der the  festive  and  convivial  hour  in- 
structive, by  teaching  him  to  ^^  mingle 
the  useful  with  the  sweet.'' 

The  first  pages  of  each  number  of 
the  Masonic  Register jsYvaW  always  be 
occupied  with  matter,  strictly  and  ori- 
ginally Masonic ;  among  which  will 
be  found  constitutions  and  laws,  by 
which  the  fraternity  are  governed  in 
various  parts  of  the  world,  and^ar- 
ticularly  in  North  America  5  Masohic 
biographical  and  historical  sketches,' 
sermons,  addresses,  orations,  odes,  &c. 
The  remainder  will  be  devoted  to  ge- 
ography, history,  politics,  natural  and 
moral  philosophy,  agriculture,  the  use- 
ful arts,  poetry,  and  amusing  frag< 
ments. 

In  geography  and  history^  we  shall 
endeavour  to  confine  ourselves  to  such 
communications  as  most  nearly  con- 
cern the  interests  to  which  our  publi- 
cation is  devoted.  In  politics^  we  dis- 
claim all  attachment  to  any  party 
which  has  not  for  its  foundation  the 
equal  rights,  and  good  of  mankind ; 
and  we  solemnly  promise,  that  no  por- 
tion of  our  paper  shall  ever  be  devo- 
ted to  the  service  of  a  demagogue.  In 
all  our  researches  we  shall  make  truth 
our  object,  reason  ^d  Justice  our 

^  Digitized  by  LjOagre 


MASONIC. 


guides,  aud  free  investigation  our 
right. 

In  religion^  we  shall  meddle  with 
Ito  man^s  creed  ^'  whose  life  b  in  the 
right,"  «  He  that  feareth  God,  and 
worketh  righteousness/'  whatever  may 
be  his  private  tenets,  must  be  greeted 
with  an  equal  share  of  brotherly  love, 
at  the  altai*  of  Masonry ;  he  who  does 
not,  is  a  hardened  wretch,  if  he  dare 
approach  it. 

The  success  of  this  work,  depends 
on  the  patronage  it  may  receive.  To 
the  public  in  general,  it  would  be  do- 
ing injustice  to  suppose,  that  any  por- 
tion of  support  will  be  withheld, 
which  the  character  of  the  publication 
shall  merit.  But,  Brethren  of  the 
great  Moionic  Family^  conscious  of 
oux  own  weakness,  to  you  we  look  for 
more  than  would  be  our  portion  from 
the  cold  hand  of  justice ;  to  you  we 
look  for  those  effusions  of  genius 
which  shall  dignify  and  adorn  our  pa- 
ges ;  to  your  candour  we  look  for  ex- 
cuses for  the  errors  and  faults  you  will 
from  time  to  time  discover;  and  to 
your  liberality  we  look  for  that  pecu- 
niary support,  without  which,  the  Ma- 
sonic Register  will  prove  but  a  with- 
ering plant;  with  which,  we  hope, 
and  tnist,  it  may  flourish  with  evei^ 
blooaling  freslfness,  yielding  the  com- 
forts of  life  to  us,  and  pleasure  and 
satisfaction  to  you. 

ORIGIN  AND  PROGRESS  OF  MA- 
SONRY. 

The  institution  of  Masonry  takes  its 
date  from  the  foundation  of  the  world. 
That  its  principles  are  of  divine  ori- 
gin, is  self-evident;  and  that  it  has 
had  the  superintending  hand  of  Deity 
for  a  support,  is,  we  think,  sufficiently 
demonstrated,  by  the  many  ages 
through  which  it  has  existed,  notwith- 
standing the  united  exertions  of  the 
bigoted  and  superstitious  in  all  ages, 
to  overthrow  its  structure ;  whilst  ev- 
ery other  human  institution  has  been 
corrupted  and  destroyed. 

By  tradition,  it  appears  that  the 
mysteries  of  Masonry  were  transmit- 


ted in  regular  socoesslon,  through  the 
'^  free  and  accepted,"  from  Ac&m  to 
Noah,  and  from  Noah  to  Solomon, 
through  whose  means  the  brethren 
were  more  strictly  united,  and  laws 
were  enacted  for  the  future  government 
of  the  fraternity.  Grand  master  Sol- 
omon organized  a  great  number  of 
new  lodges  at  Jerusalem,  and  employ- 
ed 113,600  of  the  fraternity,  besides 
70,000  labourers,  in  building  the  tern- 

Pie,  which  was  finished  A.  L.  3028. 
revious  to  the  commencejnent  of  the 
building  of  this  celebrated  edifice,  a 
most  intimate  connection  was  formed 
between  grand  master  Solomon,  king 
of  Israel,  and  grand  master  Hiram, 
king  of  Tyre,  and  their  friendship  was 
permanently  cemented.  Under  the 
direction  of  these  grand  masters,  with 
the  assistance  of  de]mty  grand  master 
Hiram- A  biff,  iMasonry  flourished  in  a 
greater  degree  than  at  any  former  pe- 
riod ;  and  has  continued  to  flourbh  in 
a  greater  or  less  degree,  throu&h  suo* 
cessive  generations.  The  foUowing 
ing  letters,  which  passed  between  the 
king  of  Israel,  and  the  king  of  Tyre, 
are  copied  from  JOsephus'  history  of 
the  antiquities  of  the  Jews. 

SOLOMON   TO  KINO   HIRAM. 

'^  Know  thou,  that  my  father  would 
have  built  a  temple  to  God,  but  was 
hindered  by  wars,  and  continual  ex- 
peditions, for  he  did  not  leave  oflT  to 
overthrow  his  enemies  till  he  made 
them  all  subject  to  tribute ;  but  1  give 
thanks  to  God  for  the  peace  I  at  pre- 
sent enjoy ;  and  on  that  account  I  am 
at  leisure,  and  design  to  build  an 
house  to  God ;  for  God  foretold  to  my 
father,  that  such  an  house  should  be 
built  by  me ;  wherefore  I  desire  thee 
to  send  some  of  thy  subjects  with 
mine,  to  mount  Lebanon,  to  cut  down 
timber,  for  the  Sidonians  are'  more 
skilful  than  our  people  in  cutting  of 
wood;  i  will  pa^  whatsoever  price 
thou  shalt  determme." 

HIRAM   TO    KING    SOLOMON. 

^(  It  is  fit  to  bless  God,  that  he  hath 
committed  thy  father's  goyemment  to 

Digitized  by  VjOO^IC 


MAsome. 


Aee,  who  art  a  wise  niaii^  and  endow- 
ed with  aH  virtues.  As  for  myself,  I 
njoice  at  the  condition  thou  art  in, 
and  win  be  subservient  to  thee  in  all 
dmt  thoo  sendest  to  me  about;  for 
when  by  my  sobjects,  I  have  cut 
dow«  many,  andlarge  trees  of  cedar, 
and  cypress  wood,  I  will  send  them  to 
sea,  and  will  order  my  subjects  to 
make  iloots  of  them,  and  to  sail  to 
what  place  soever  of  thy  country  thou 
afaah  desire,  and  leave  them  there ;  af- 
ter wiucb  thy  Sttbjects  may  <;arry 
them  to  Jeni»lem :  but  do  thou  take 
care  to  procure  us  com  for  this  tnn- 
ber,  which  we  stand  in  need  of,  be- 
cause we  inhabit  in  an  island." 

In  A.  L.  3190,  the  Masonic  art  was 
introduced  into  France  and  Germany, 
by  Nimis,  who  had  assisted  in  building 
the  temple ;  and  from  that  time  to  its 
iotrodnetion  into  England,  through 
the  means  of  Sokmion's  masons,  and 
their  descendants,  it  was  introduced 
and  floitriahed  in  various  other  parts 
of  the  woiid. 

.     The  royal  art  is  supposed  to  have 
•een  introduced  into  Great    Britian 


^  time  previous  to  the  Roman  in- 
vaatoa,  whm  it  was  afterwards  patron- 
ned  by  Julius  Caesar,  and  by  his  most 
distinguished  generals  ;  but  the  most 
seakms  patron  of  the  order  in  those 
ciays,  was  the  emperor  Caraunus,  who 
granted  a  charter,  and  appointed  the 
jBUtyr  Sc  Allian,  the  first  grand  mas- 
ter. 

After  the  departure  of  the  Romans 
bom  £ne;land,  Masonry  became  much 
B^lectea,  and  thus,  in  a  measure  con- 
tBued,  until  A.  D.  872,  when  it  was 
fevived  by  Alfred  the  Great  under 
wh^ae  auspices  it  acquired  great  splen- 
dour and  respectability,  and  coutinued 
tp  flourish  until  the  reign  of  King 
Athelstane,  in  A.  D.  926,  when  it  was 
completely  re-established  by  the  insti- 
tution of  a  grand  lodge  at  York,  of 
which  prince  Edwin,  king  Athelstane's 
brother,  was  appointed  first  grand 
Blaster.  A  grand  communication  of 
a&  the  Masons  m  the  kingdom  was 


called,  to  assemble  mt  Yoik ;  where, 
from  ancient  documents,  they  formed 
a  book  of  constitutions,  from  which  all 
the  lodges  both  in  England  and  Amer- 
ica, either  mediately  or  immediately 
derive  their  charters;  and  from  this 
assemblage  the  appellation  o(  Ancient 
York  Masons f  is  derived.  After  this. 
Masonry  continued  to  receive  the  fos- 
tering patronage  of  various  kings  and 
princes,  as  well  as  the  most  exalted 
statesmen,  and  men  of  learning  and 
exemplary  piety,  not  only  in  England, 
but  in  other  kingdoms  of  Europe. 

James  I.  king  of  Scotland,  became 
a  zealous  patron  of  Masonry,  and  was 
initiated  into  the  order  A.  D.  1443. 
In  the  year  1731,  Francis,  then  duke 
of  Tuscany,  afterwards  emperor  of 
Germany,  was  initiated  into  the  myste- 
ries, by  earl  Chesterfield,  while  on  an 
embassy  at  the  Hague ;  and  in  1738, 
Frederick  the  Great,  king  of  Prusia, 
became  a  Mason.  Frederick,  was  a 
zealous  advocate  for  the  order,  and 
extended  it  throughout  his  dominions. 

In  fhe  year  1779,  Omdit-ul  Omrak 
Bahaudery  the  eldest  son  of  the  nabob 
of  Camatic,  was  initiated  into  the 
lodge  of  Trinchinopoly,  which  caused 
xMasonry  to  progress  with  rapid  strides 
in  the  Cast  Indies.  On  the  receipt  of 
the  news  of  this  initiation,  by  the 
grand  lodge  of  England,  they  forward- 
ed him  a  letter  of  congratulation,  with 
an  elegant  apron,  and  a  book  of  con- 
stitutions, to  which,  in  the  year  1780, 
an  answer  written  in  the  Persian  lan- 
guage was  received,  enveloped  in  an 
elegant  gold  cloth.  To  such  of  our 
readers  as  have  not  seen  the  transla- 
tion of  this  letter,  it  cannot  fall  to  be 
highly  gratifying,    it  is  as  follows  : 

«  To  tiie  Right  WorshipTol,  his  Grace»  the 
Duke  of  Mancbester,  Grand  Master  of 
the  musuious  and  Benevolent  Society 
of  Free  and  Accepted  Masonv  under  the 
Constitntion  of  England;  and  the  Graod 
Lodge  thereof. 
^Mod  Honoured  Sir,  and  Brethren, 

^  An  early  knowledge  and  par- 
ticipation of  the  benete  arising  to  oar 
house,  from  its  intimate  union  of  coun- 

)igitized  by  VjOOQiC 


MASONIC. 


cilsy  and  interest  with  the  British  na- 
tion, and  a  deep  veneration  for  the 
laws,  constitution  and  manners  of  the 
latter,  have  for  many  years  led  me  to 
seize  every  opportunity  of  drawing  the 
ties  between  us  still  closer  and  closer. 
"  By  the  accounts  which  have  reach- 
ed me  of  the  principles,  and  practices 
of  your  fraternity,  nothing  can  be 
more  pleasing  to  the  Sovereign  Ruler 
of  the  universe,  (whom  we  aU,  though 
in  different  ways  adore,)  or  more  hon- 
ourable to  his  creatures;  for  they 
stand  upon  the  broad  basis  of  indis- 
criminate and  universal  benevolenccf 
^<  Under  this  conviction,  I  had  long 
wished  to  be  s^  member  of  your  fra- 
ternity, and  now  that  1  am  initiated, 
I  consider  the  title  of  an  English  Ma- 
son, as  one  of  the  most  honourable 
which  I  possess  :  for  it  is,  at  once, 
a  cement  of  the  friendship  between 
your  nation  and  me,  the  friend  of 
mankind. 

"  I  have  received  from  the  advo- 
cate general  of  Bengal,  Sir  John  Day, 
the  very  acceptable  mark  of  attention 
and  esteem,  with  which  you  have  fa- 
voured me.  It  has  been  presented  with 
every  circumstance  of  deference  and 
respect,  which  the  situation  of  things 
'here,  and  the  temper  of  the  times 
would  admit  of;  and  I  do  assure  your 
grace,  and  the  brethren  at  large,  that 
he  has  done  ample  justice  to  the, com- 
mission you  have  confided  to  him,  and 
that  he  has  executed  it,  in  such  a  man- 
ner, as  to  do  honour  to  himself,  and  to 
me. 

"  I  shall  avfidl  myself  of  a  proper 
opportunity,  to  convince  your  grace, 
and  the  rest  of  the  brethren,  that  Om- 
dit-ul  Omrah  is  not  an  unfeeling  bro- 
ther, or  heedless  of  the  precepts  which 
he  has  imbibed ;  and  that  while  he  tes^ 
tihes  his  love  and  esteem  for  his  breth- 
ren, by  strengthening  the  bonds  of  hu- 
manity, he  means  to  minister  to  Uie 
wants  of  the  distressed. 

"  May  the  common  father  of  all,  the 
one  omnipotent  and  merciful  God, 
take  you  into  his  holy  keeping,  and 
give  you  health,  peac6,  aod  length  of 


years,  prays  your  highly  honoured 
and  affectionate  brother, 

Omdit-ul  Omrah  Bahaudbb. 


To  this  letter  a  suitable  reply  ^ 
resumed,  and  the  original  letter,  ^di 
a  translation  copied  on  vellum,  ele^ 
gantly  framed  and  glazed,  was  hun^ 
up  in  the  hall,  at  all  public  meetings 
<^  the  lodge, 

A  Latin  lodge,  entitled  the  Ronma 
Eagle,  was  instituted  at  Edinburgh^ 
A*  D.  1784,  which  flourished  for  sev- 
eral years,  but  on  the  government 
having  fallen  into  the  hsCnds  of  breUi- 
ren  unskilled  in  the  language,  the  latin 
was  at  length  discarded. 

In  1786,  Prince  William  Henry, 
was  initiated  into  the  order ;  and  th« 
succeeding  year,  his  example  was  fol- 
lowed by  his  brothers,  the  Prince  of 
Wales,  now  king  of  England,  and  the 
duke  of  York.  In  1790,  prince  Ed- 
ward, and  prince  Augustus  Frederick 
were  both  made  Masons. 

In  1793,  the  king  of  Sweden  be- 
came a  Mason  at  Stockholm,  while 
the  duke  of  Sudermania  presided  as 
grand  master,  and  in  the  year  1799, 
an  intimate  connection  was  formed  be- 
tween the  grand  lodges  of  Sweden  and 
England. 

To  mention  all  the  illustrious  char- 
acters who  have  patronised  the  Msfc., 
sonic  art,  in  the  different  ages  of  tite 
world,  and  to  give  a  minute  account  of 
its  extent,  would  far  exceed  our  limits  ; 
suffice  it  then,  in  closing  our  sketck 
of  its  origin  and  progress  in  the  old 
world ;  to  say  that  it  has  met  the  ap-. 
probation  of  the  wise,  and  good,  in 
every  age,  and  that  its  influence  has 
been  extended  to  the  four  quarters  of 
the  globe. 

Commencement  of  Masonry  in 
America, 

Fres  Masonry  was  first  introdu- 
ced into  America,  by  the  establisk- 
meQt  of  a  lodge  at  Savannah,  in  the 
province  of  Georgia,  under  a  warrant 
from  lord  Weymotb,  then  grand  mas* 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MASOIW* 


fcr  of  Engiaad,  A.  L.  5730;  bat  the 
first  grand  lodge  was  estabGshed  at 
Boston,  Massacbusetts,  uoder  the  name 
of  St.  Joha's  grand  lodge,  when  lord 
Montagiie,  at  that  time  grand  master 
of  Cn^aad,  appointed  the  worshipfnl 
Henry  Price,  grand  master  of  New- 
Eaglandy  in  consequence  of  a  petition 
iffom  a  number  of  brethren  residing  in 
those  provinces. 

In  the  year  following,  orders  having 
been  reeeived  by  thb  grand  lodge, 
Irora  the  grand  lodge  of  England,  to 
estaUish  u>dges  in  all  parts  of  North- 
America,  a  lodge  was  constituted  in 
Philadelphia,  of  which  Benjamin 
Franklin  was  appointed  first  master. 
A  warrant  was  granted  at  the  same 
time  fcv  holding  a  lodge  in  Ports- 
ZDouth,  New-Hampshire. 

Masonry  was  first  introduced  in  the 
West-Indies  in  573  8>  when  a  lodge 
was  formed  at  Antigua,  by  the  grand 
■aster  of  New-Engknd,  when  on  his 
way  to  the  mother  country,  into  which 
he  initiated  the  governor  of  that 
island,  and  several  other  distinguished 
characters. 

From  ^  John^s  grand  lodge,  erne- 
oated  the  first  subordinate  lodges,  in 
various  parts  of  the  British  dominions 
in  America,  and  the  West-Indies,  as 
wdlas  those  of  Massachusetts,  Con- 
oectioit,  New-Hampshire,  Rhode- 
Island,  New-York,  New-Jersey^  Penn- 
jjlvania,  Maryland,  and  North-Caro- 
lioa. 

In  5752,  a  dispensation  was  grants 
ed  by  the  grand  lodge  of  Scotland,  of 
which  ShUto  Cbarlet  Dougiassy  lord 
AerdouTy  was  then  grand  master,  to 
a  munber  of  brethren  who  had  been 
flutiated  into  the  order  in  foreign 
lodges,  to  hold  a  lodge  in  Boston,  un- 
der the  appellation  of  St.  Andrew's, 
No.  82.  St.  John'M  grand  lodge, 
considering  their  jurisdiction  infringed, 
revised,  for  a  number  of  years,  any 
commnnications  from  St.  Andrew's 
lodgCy  or  visits  from  such  of  its  mem- 
bers as  had  not  formerly  sat  in  lodges 
ander  their  jurisdiction. 
in  5T64f  a  grand  lodge  was  estab- 


lished in  Pennsylvalua,  under  a  wai^ 
rant  from  the  grand  lodge  of  England. 

In  5769,  an  ancient  grand  lodge 
was  established  in  the  province  of 
Ma8sa<;husetts,  in  consequence  of  a 
petition  to  the  worsliipfnl  earl  of  Dal* 
hotuCf  at  tliat  time  grand  master  of 
Masons  in  Scotland,  who  appointed 
Joseph  Warren,  grand  master  of  Ma- 
sons in  Boston,  and  ivithin  one  hun- 
dred miles  of  the  same ;  and  on  the 
festival  of  St.  John  the  Baptist,  June 
24th,  5769,  he  was  iqistalled,  and  in 
5772,  he  received  a  commission,  con- 
stituting him  grand  master  of  the  whole 
continent  of  America. 

In  5771,  the  grand  bdge  of  North- 
Carolina  was  establish6d  under  a  war- 
rant from  the  grand  bdge  of  Scot- 
land. 

On  the  17th  of  Junt  5775,  a  very 
heavy  loss  wa^  sustained  by  the  grand 
lodge,  and  Masonry  in  teneral,  in  the 
death  of  major  general  WARaSN,  who 
fell  in  the  ever  memolable  battle  of 
Bunker's  hill,  on  the  heights  of 
Charlestolvn,  whibt  gallantly  fighting 
in  defence  of  his  country's  rights. 

This  melancholy  event,  whieh 
threw  the  whole  Masonic  family  into 
mourning,  and  drew  foith  tears  from 
the  whole  American  community,  to- 
gether with  other  political  events  of 
that  period,  caused  a  sh(Ht  suspension 
of  Masonic  labours,  f  he  com  mis* 
sion  of  the  grand  mister,  having 
with  him  expired,  and  his  deputy  hav- 
ing no  power  independent  of  that 
derived  from  him,  caused  some  em- 
barrassment as  it  respected  the  future 
proceedings  of  the  craft,  being  left  des- 
titute of  a  bead,  or  a  singk  grand  officer 
to  regulate  their  work.  However,  af- 
ter various  communications,  in  which 
the  subject  was  candidly  considered, 
on  the  8th  of  March  5777,  the  breth- 
ren came  to  a  conclusion,  to  form  an 
independent  grand  lodge,  "  on  prin- 
ciples consistent  with,  and  subordinate 
to  the  regulations  pointed  out  in  the 
constitutions  of  ancient  Masonry.'' 
The  lodge  was  accordingly  organised, 
and  the  worshipful  Joseph  Webb,  in^ 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


6 


MASONIC* 


ttsHed  grand  ml»ter.  This  grand 
lodge  continued  to  exercise  its  prerog- 
atives independetotly  of  any  other, 
till  the  year  5791 9  wiien  overtures 
were  made  to  the  officers  of  St.  John's 
grand  lodge,  to  form  an  union,  which 
were  accepted,  and  on  the  5th  of 
March,  the  two  lodges  were  organised 
into  one  hodjj  under  the  name  of 
^  ITie  grand  hdgeofthe  ancient  and 
honourable  8oeiety  of  free  andaccept* 
ed  MasoMy  far  tAe  commonwealth  of 
Ma99achu9ettM/^ 

Previous  to  the  revolution,  which 
dissolved  all  tdlegiance  of  the  then 
American  Provinces  to  the  British 
crown,  the  grand  lodge  of  England 
had  appointed  ProitTfitcaa/^raiKi  mo*- 
ter»  in  several  of  the  provinces,  from 
which  emanated  a  mrniber  of  subordi- 
nate lodges  ^  hut  the  same  revolution 
which  separated  the  states  from  all 
foreign  government,  exhonerated  all 
Masons  in  the  United  States,  from  al- 
legiance to  foreign  lodges :  means 
were  therefore  taken  for  die  establish- 
ment of  independent  grand'  lodges  in 
the  respective  states.  A  friendly  cor- 
respondence, however,  has  been  care- 
fully preserved,  among  the  fraternity 
in  all  parts  of  the  world. 

FEOM  MAINE. 
The  following  interesting  article  is 
copied  from  the  Eastern  Argus, 
published  in  the  state  of  Maine.  With 
a  high  degree  of  pleasure  we  observe 
the  Ughts  of  Masonry  extending  their 
benign  influences  in  this  new  state. 
We  most  h^rtily  congratulate  our 
brethren  and  companions  of  Maine, 
on  the  "  recent  consecration  of  their 
grand  lodge,  and  of  three  royal  arch 
chapters  within  so  short  a  period.'' 
May  unanimity  prevail  among  them, 
and  may  their  work  be  always  such, 
as  to  pass  the  inspection  of  the 
Grand  Overseer.  We  regret  that  it 
is  out  of  our  power  to  give  a  complete 
list  of  the  officers  of  Uie  several  new 
chapters,  together  with  that  of  the 
new  grand  lodge,  owing  to  the  paper 


which  was  politely  handed  os  by  a 
friend,  having  been  mutilated. 

«  On  Tuesday  the  18th  inst.  agre^ 
aUy  to  notice,  the  grand  royal  arch 
chapter  of  Massachusetts  was  duly  or- 
ganized at  Bath,  by  M.  £.  D.  6.  H. 
P.  Hbnrt  Fowle,  Esq.  who  then  and 
there  publicly  consecrated  Mootgom^ 
ery  chapter  of  royal  arch  Masons; 
and  on  the  19th,  New  Jerusalem  chap- 
ter at  Wiscasset;  and  on  the  21st, 
Jerusalem  chapter  at  Hallowell,  and 
their  several  officers  were  installed  in 
due  form.  An  address  was  delivered 
at  Bath  by  Robert  P.  Dunlap,  Esq. 
on  the  social  and  benevolent  princi- 
ples of  Masonry;  at  Wiscasset,  by 
Nathaniel  Coffin,  Esq.  on  it  mond 
and  religious  influence ;  and  at  Hal- 
lowel,  by  Dr.  Lawrence  Spraous, 
on  the  origin  and  importance  of  the 
royal  arch  degree.  The  character  of 
thb  institution,  in  these  several  points 
of  view,  was  delineated  and  enforced 
in  an  elegant  and  impressive  manner. 

<^  The  ceremonies  on  each  occasion 
were  peculiarly  gratifying,  and  were 
rendered  more  interesting  by  the  per- 
formance of  several  pieces  of  sacred 
music,  in  an  admirable  style,  reflect- 
ing honour  on  those  who  so  politely  vol* 
uateered  their  assistance.  The  grand 
officers  and  respective  chapters  at  each 
place,  were  preceded  by  a  large  proces- 
sion of  the  fraternity,  and  the  exercises 
performed  to  crowded  auditories.  At 
Bath  and  Wiscasset,  governor  Kino^ 
as  grand  master  of  Masons  in  Maine, 
accompanied  by  several  officers  of  the 
grand  lodge,  participated  in  the  so- 
lemnities, and  expressed  his  regret 
that  his  public  avocations  prevented 
his  accepting  the  invitation  to  attend 
the  consecration  at  Hallowell.  At 
Bath,  the  grand  chapter,  and  the  offi. 
cers  of  the  respective  chapters,  were 
in  the  evening  received  by  the  gov- 
ernor at  his  house,  with  his  usual  po-  * 
liteness  and  hospitality ;  and  at  Wis» 
casset  and  Hallowell,  tb«'y  experienced  r 
those  attentions  which  are  peculiar  to 
royal  arch  Masooa*  ^         , 

Digitized  by  VjOOQlC 


MASOMKL 


^Eisery  dfcamstaneecoiBMoed  to 
lender  this  occasion  uncomoioDly  in- 
teresting, and  to  make  an  impression 
00  the  pubfic  mind  highly  favourable 
t»  the  iostimtioiL  The  Rev.  Clergy 
IB  the  vicinity  attended  by  invitation, 
and  assisted  in  the  solemnities ;  at  the 
coodiision  of  which,  the  fraternity  par- 
took of  Masonic  dinners,  prepared  in 
»  a  soperior  style.  Owing  to  the  great 
nnmber  of  brethren  assembled  at  Hal- 
k>weU,  a  large  booth  was  constructed 
of  ereigreen,  placed  in  an  airy  situa- 
tiofi,  and  tastefully  decorated ;  where 
the  following  toasts,  previously  pre- 
pared, were  drank,  accompanied  by 
appropriate  music  from  the  band 

1.  Pke  general  grand  chapter  of 
ike  UnUed  States.— United  Stated 
wtarcM. 

3.  The  grand  chapter  under  whoee 
mmpices  we  are  conatituted.  May 
her  wisdom  and  seal  be  perpetuated 
through  all  time,  and  "  her  children 
of  the  latest  posterity  rise  up  and  call 
her  Messed*"— MoMociliMe^'  march. 

S.  The  grand  lodge  of  Maine— 
Though  yet  in  its  cradle,  majr  it,  like 
the  io&nt  Hercules,  strangle  the  ser- 
pent of  discord,  and  pursjue  its  victo- 
rious career,  till  every  monster  of  vice 
than  be  exterminated  from  our  land. — 
Mtme  march. 

4*  The  grandmaster  and  governor 
of  Maine. — His  path  of  duty,  as  a 
ray  of  n^t ;  neither  intrigue  not  fac- 
tiou  can  divert  him  from  bus  course.-^ 
Governor  King'e  march. 

4.  TAeCro^—- Sacredisthepledge, 
acred  be  its  redemption.— •Am^  in 
the  Stranger. 

5.  Masowy — A  besSn  from  the 
fooDtain  of  light :  may  its  rays  extend 
uU  the  whole  world  shall  see  its  whole 
character. — Free  Maeon^e  march. 

7-  1^  key  stone  of  the  royal  Mch 
some  arch. — It  sustains  an  edifice 
Bore  beautiful  than  the  temple  of  Sol- 
omoa^  and  more  durable  than  the  pyr- 
amids of  i^gypt. — Royal  arch  ma^ 
job's  mcarch. 

S.  The  memory  of  our  grand 
^— WASHINGTONv-Dir^. 


9.  The  memory  of  tner  grand  t 
ter  Solomon-^Tbost  who  have  beheld 
his  wisdom  by  the  light  of.  Masonry, 
may  exclaim  with  the  Queen  of  the 
South,  ^<the  half  had  not  been  told 
me."— O  how  §haU  X  in  language 
weak.  , 

The  recent  consecration  of  the  grand 
lodge,  and  of  three  royal  arch  chapteia 
in  Maine,  within  so  short  a  period,  is 
a  circiunstance  unequalled  in  Masonic 
history,  and  must  be  flattering  to  thooe 
who  take  a  deep  interest  in  the  pros- 
perity of  the  art.  And  in  concluding 
these  remarks,  we  cannot  refrain  from 
noticing  the  very  improssive  charges 
delivered  to  the  several  chapters  by 
the  M.  E.  D.  grand  high  priest,  who 
presided  in  a  manner  that  gave  uni* 
▼ersal  satisfaction.^' 


FROM  OHIO. 
A  letter  from  the  honourable  Caleb 
Atwater,  of  Circleville,  Ohio,  to  the 
editor  of  the  Masonic  Register,  states, 
that  no  doubt  can  be  entertained  that 
the  people  who  erected  the  ancient 
works  in  that  part  of  America,  were 
Masons,  from  the  discovery  of  many 
mounds  in  the  earth,  containing  enn 
blems  of  the  order,  and  other  vsduable 
curiosities.  He  has  generously  pro- 
mised us  a  particular  cgmmunication 
upon  the  subject,  accompanied  by  ele- 
gant drawings,  which  he  says,  ^<  will 
occupy  many  pages  of  the  Register.'* 
He  states,  that  "  the  ancient  people 
were  from  India,  and  that  their  lodges 
were  either  on  the  highest  hills,  or  in 
the  lowest  vales,  and  always  near  run- 
ning water.''  Through  the  favour  of 
this  gentleman,  we  hope  to  be  enabled 
to  enrich  some  of  the  future  numbers  of 
the  Register,  with  much  important  in- 
formation, not  only  interesting  to  our 
Masonic  brethren,  but  to  the  public 
generally. 

Gboags  Washington,  th^  father 
of  his  country,  we  hail  as  an  illustri- 
oos  leader  of  Masonry.  He  was  not 
a  nomiQai  member^  but  a  faithful  bro** 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


8 


MASONIC. 


ther,  and  a  cofstant  practiser  of  the 
duties  involved  in  that  connection. 
He  was  a  eealous  promoter  of  the  in- 
terest of  the  fraternity,  always  accept- 
ed with  pride  and  gratitude  of  its  hon- 
ours, which  h<  reflected  upon  it  with 
increased  lustre.  He  sanctioned  our 
meetings  by  Ins  presence ;  partook 
the  rites  and  discharged  the  duties  of 
the  craft  through  a  long  course  of  con- 
stant attendance.  When  military  and 
political  life  was  over  with  him  ;  when 
he  was  satiated  with  honour,  and 
^ory  palled  ipon  his  taste,  still  did 
he  cherish  a  fond  affection  for  our 
mysteries :  and  as  punctually  as  he 
attended  public  worship  in  the  church, 
would  he  attend  private  worship  in 
the  lodge.  Richards. 

Masonic  science  has  the  best  tenden- 
cy :  it  not  only  roeasores  the  earth  and 
seas,  but  ascertains  the  magnitudes  and 
stations  of  the  stars ;  it  scrutinizes  the 
hidden  mysteries  of  philosophical  dis- 
quisition 'y  it  teaches  us  that  God  made 
the  heaven  and  the  earth ;  also,  that 
whatever  is  done  therein,  he  is  the 
mighty  doer  thereof.  And  when  we 
cannot,  by  human  wisdom,  discover 
the  cause  of  the  adhesion  of  matter,  or 
how  the  earth  is  carried  through  its 
evolutions,  and  poised  in  a  true  equil- 
ibrium by  its  specific  gravity  ^  it  teach- 
es us  that  the  allotment  of  man  which 
tome  (falsely  called)  philosophers, 
have  styled  an  eternal  sleep,  will, 
when  we  have  passed  the  gloomy  pas- 
sage, open  to  our  view,  all  that  source 
of  instruction,  of  which  human  wisdom 
can  give  us  but  a  verv  fairit  glimmer- 
ing. Vani>bbbilt. 

GERMAN  MASONIC  PRECEPT. 
Detest  avarice  and  ostentation.  Do 
-  not  look  for  the  reward  of  virtue  in 
the  plaudits  of  the  multitude,  but  in 
the  innermost  recesses  of  thy  own 
heart ;  and  if  thou  canst  not  make  as 
many  happy  as  thou  desirest,  reflect  on 
the  sacred  tie  of  benevolence,  which 
unites  us,  and  exert  thyself  to  the  ut- 
most in  promoting  our  labour  of  love. 


GENERAL  CONSTlTUtlON. 
It  being  our  wish  to  render  this 
work  worthy  a  preservation  in  the  ar- 
chives of  Masonry,  as  a  general  de- 
posit of  knowledge,  and  table  of  refer* 
ence,  in  all  matters  of  imp(Mtance 
to  the  fraternity,  and  considering  it  a 
matter  of  great  moment,  that  each  in- 
dividual should  possess  a  thorough 
knowledge  of  the  rules  and  laws  to 
which  he  owes  allegiance,  to  whatever 
institution  he  may  belong,  we  here  in- 
sert, at  full  length,  the  constitution  of 
the  general  grand  royal  arch  chapter 
of  the  United  States ;  to  be  followed, 
in  succeeding  numbers,  by  the  laws, 
rules,  and  regulations,  of  the  various 
other  Masonic  degrees.  We  are  not 
unaware,  that  a  number  of  our  Mason- 
ic brethren  already  possess  these  doc- 
uments, but  when  w^  ^consider,  that 
a  great  majority  are  without  them, 
they  will  readily  observe  the  utility 
of  recording  them  in  the  Masonic 
Register. 

Thb  General  Grand  Rotal  Arch 
Constitution,  for  the  United 
States  or  America. 

ARTICLE   I. 

Cfthe  Qeneral  Qrctnd  Chapter. 

Sect.  1.  There  shall  be  a  Qeneral 
Grand  Chapter  of  Royal  Arch  Ma- 
sons for  the  United  States  of  Ameri" 
cay  which  shall  be  holden  as  is  herein- 
after directed,  and  shall  consist  of  a 
general  grand  high  priest,  deputy  gen- 
eral grand  high  priest,  general  grand 
king,  general  grand  scribe,  secretary, 
treasurer,  chaplain,  and  marshal ;  and 
likewise  of  the  several  grand  and  de- 
puty g;rand  high  priests,  kings,  and 
scribes,  for  the  time  being,  of  the  sev- 
eral state  grand  chapters,  under  the 
jurisdiction  of  this  general  mind  chap- 
ter;  and  of  the  past  general  grand  high 
priests,  deputy  general  grand  high 
priests,  kings,  and  scribes  of  the  said 
general  grand  chapter ;  and  the  afore- 
said officers,  or  their  proxies,  shall  be 
the  only  members  and  voters  in  said 
general  grand  ckapter.    And  no  per- 

)igitized  by  VjOOQiC 


MASONIC. 


son  shall  be  constitated  a  proxy^  un« 
less  he  be  a  present  or  past  officer  of 
tins,  or  a  state  grand  chapter. 

Sect.  2.  The  general  grand  chap- 
ter shall  meet  septennially,  on  the  se- 
I  cood  Thursday  in  September,  for  the 
I  choice  of  officers,  and  other  business  : 
dtting  from  the  second  Thursday  in 
September,  A.  D.  1805,  at  such  place 
as  may,  from  time  to  time,  be  appoint- 
ed. 

Skct.  3.  A  special  meeting  of  the 
general  grand  chapter  shall  be  called 
wbeoever  the  general  grand  high  priest, 
deputy  general  grand  high  priest,  gen- 
eral grand  king,  and  general  grand 
scribe,  or  any  two  of  them,  may  deem 
it  necessary;  and  also  whenever  it 
may  be  required  by  a  majority  of  the 
grand  chapters  of  the  states  aforesaid, 
provided   suclv' requisition  be  made 
known  in  writing,  by  the  said  grand 
chapters  respectively,  to  the  general 
I     grand    high  priest,   deputy    general 
grand    high  priest^   king  or   scribe. 
I     And  it  shall  be  the  duty  of  the  said 
general  officers,  and  they  are  each  of 
I     them  severally  authorized,  empower- 
ed, and  directed,  upon  receiving  offi- 
dal  notice  of  sudi  requisition  from  a 
majority  of  the  grand  chapters  afore- 
said, to  appoint  a  time  and  place  of 
meetiiig,  and  notify  each  of  the  state 
grand  chapters  thereof  accordingly. 

Sbct.  4.  It  shall  be  incumbent  on 
the  general  grand  high  priest,  deputy 
feneral  grand  high  priest,  general 
grand  king,  and  general  grand  scribe, 
severally,  to  improve  and  perfect 
tbemselvea  in  the  sublime  arts,  and 
anork  of  mark  masters,  past  mas- 
tersy  most  excellent  masters,  and  roy- 
al arch  Masons;  to  make  themselves 
sasters  of  the  several  Masonic  lec- 
tures and  ancient  charges ;  to  consult 
vith  each  other,  and  with  the  grand 
and  deputy  grand  high  priests,  kings, 
and  scribes  of  the  several  states  afore- 
said, for  the  purpose  of  adopting  mea- 
airea  sqitable  and  proper  for  diffusing 
a  knowledge  of  the  said  lectures,  and 
chaises,  and  an  uniform  mode  of 
voriungi  in  the  several  chapters  and 


lodges  throughout  this  jurisdiction; 
and  the  better  to  effect  this  laudable 
purpose,  the  aforesaid  general  grand 
officers  are  severally  hereby  authori- 
zed, and  empowered,  to  visit  and  pre- 
side in  any  and  every  chapter  of  royal 
arch  Masons,  and  lodge  of  most  ex- 
cellent, past,  or  mark  master  Masons, 
throughout  the  said  states,  and  to  give 
such  instructions  and  directions  as  the 
good  of  the  fraternity  may  require ; 
always  adhering  to  the  ancient  land* 
marks  of  the  oi^er. 

Sect.  5.  In  all  cases  of  the  ab- 
sence of  any  officer  from  any  body  of 
Masons,  instituted  or  hold^n  by  virtue 
of  this  constitution,  the  officer  next  in 
rank  shall  succeed  his  superior ;  un- 
less, through  courtesy,  said  officer 
should  decline  in  flavour  of  a  past  su- 
perior officer  present  And  in  case 
of  the  absence  of  all  the  officers  from 
any  legal  meeting  of  either  o(  the  bo- 
dies aforesaid,  the  members  present, 
according  to  seniority  and  abilities, 
shall  fill  the  several  offices. 

Sect.  6.  In  every  chapter  or  lodge 
of  Masons,  instituted  or  holden  by 
virtue  of  this  constitution,  all  ques- 
tions (except  upon  the  admission  of 
members  or  candidates)  shall  be  de- 
termined by  a  majority  of  votes ;  the 
presiding  officer  for  the  time  being, 
being  entitled  to  vote,  if  a  member; 
and  in  case  the  votes  should  at  any 
time  be  equally  divided,  the  presiding 
officer  as  aforesaid,  shall  give  the  cast- 
ing vote. 

Sect.  7»  The  general  grand  roval 
arch  chapter,  shall  be  competent  (on 
concurrence  of  two-thirds  of  its  mem- 
bers present)  at  any  time  hereafter,  to 
revise,  amend,  and  alter  this  consti- 
tution. 

Sect.  8.  In  case  any  casualty 
should  at  any  time  hereafter  prevent 
the  septennial  election  of  officers,  the 
severed  grand  officers  shall  sustain 
their  respective  offices  until  succei^sors 
are  duly  dected  and  qualified. 

Sect.  9.  The  general  grand  high 
priest,  deputy  general  grand  high 
prie«,  gene.4  g^d  ^«J^«|d^ge». 


le 


UAdOKlC 


cral  grand  jfcribe,  shall  severally  have 
power  and  authority  to  institute  new 
royal  arch  chapters,  and  lodges  of  the 
subordinate  degrees,  in  any  state  in 
which  there  is  not  a  grand  chapter 
jregularly  established.  But  no  new 
chapter  shall  be  instituted  in  any  state 
wherein  there  is  a  chapter  or  chapters 
holden  under  the  authority  of  this 
constitution,  without  a  recommenda- 
tion from  the  chapter  nearest  the  re- 
sidence of  the  petitioners.  The  fees 
for  instituting  a  new  royal  arch  chap- 
ter, with  the  subordinate  degrees, 
shall  be  ninety  dollars;  and  for  a 
new  mark  masters'  lodge,  twenty  dol- 
lars; exclusive  of  such  compensation 
to  the  grand  secretary,  as  the  grand 
officers  aforesaid  may  deem  reason- 
able. 

AKTTCLE   II. 

Cfthe  State  Grand  Royal  Arch 
Chapters. 

Sect.  1.  The  state  grand  chapters 
shall  severally  consist  of  a  grand  high 
priest,  deputy  grand  high  priest, 
'grand  king,  grand  scribe,  grand  secre- 
tary, grand  treasurer,  grand  chap- 
lain, and  grand  marshal,  and  likewise 
of  the  high  priests,  kings,  and  scribes, 
for  the  lime  being,  of  the  several 
chapters  over  which  they  shall  re- 
spectively preside,  and  of  the  past 
grand  and  deputy  grand  high  priests, 
kings,  and  scribes,  of  the  said  grand 
chapters ;  and  the  said  enumerated 
officers  (or  their  proxies)  shall  be  the 
only  members  and  voters  in  the  said 
grand  chapters  respectively. 

Skct.  2.  The  state  grand  chapters 
shall  severally  be  holden  at  least  once 
in  every  year,  at  such  tinges  and  pla- 
ces as  tliey  shall  respectively  direct  5 
and  the  grand  or  deputy  grand  high 
priests  respectively,  for  the  time  being, 
may  at  any  time  call  a  special  meet- 
ing, to  be  holden  at  such  place  as  they 
shall  severally  think  proper  to  ap- 
point. 

Sect.  3.  The  officers  of  the  state 
grand  chapters  shall  be  chosen  annual- 


ly by  ballot,  at  such  time  and  plaoesi 
the  said  grand  chapters  shall  respect^ 
ively  direct. 

Sect.  4.  The  several  state  gran4 
chapters  (subject  to  the  provisioos  of 
this  constitution^  shall  have  the  sole 
government  and  superintendence,  of 
the  several  royal  arch  chapters,  and 
lodges  of  most  excellent,  past,  and 
mark  master  Masons  witlun  their  re- 
spective jurisdictions  ;  to  assign  their 
limits,  and  settle  controversies  that 
may  happen  between  them ;  and  shall 
have  power,  under  their  respective 
seals,  and  the  sign  manuel  of  their  re- 
spective grand  or  deputy  grand  high 
priests,  kings,  and  scribes,  (or  their 
legal  proxies)  attested  by  their  respec^ 
tive  secretaries,  to  constitute  new 
chapters  of  royal  arch  Masons,  and 
lodges  of  iDost  excellent,  past,  and 
mark  master  Masons,  within  their  re- 
spective jurisdictions. 

Sect.  5.     The  grand  and  deputy 
grand    high  priests  severally,  shafl 
have  the  power  and  authority,  when- 
ever they  shall  deem  it  expedient,  (du- 
ring the  recess  of  the  grand  chapter  of 
which  they  are  officers)  to  grant  letters 
of  dispensation,  under  their  respective 
hands,  and  private  seals,  to  a  com- 
petent number  of  petitioners  (possess- 
ing the  qualifications  required  by  the 
9th  section  of  the  second  article)  em- 
powering them  to  open  a  chapter  of 
royal  arch  Masons,  and  lodge  of  most 
excellent,  past,  and  mark  master  Ma- 
sons, for  a  certain  specified  term  of 
time :  provided,  that  the  said  term  of 
time  shall  not  extend  beyond  the  next 
meeting  of  the  grand  chapter  of  the 
state  in  which  such  dispensation  shall 
be    granted  ;  and   provided  further, 
that  the  same  fees  as  are  required  by 
this  constitution  for  warrants,  s^all  be 
first  deposited  in  the  hands  of  the^ 
grand  treasurer.    And  in  all  cases  of 
such  dbpensations,  the  grand  or  de^ 
puty  grand  high  priests,  respectively^ 
who  mav  grant  the  same,  shall  make 
report  thereof,  at  the  next  stated  meet- 
ing of  the  grand  chapter  of  their  rej 
spective  jurisdic|tons,  when  the  saidi 

Digitized  by  VjOOQiC 


UAiamt. 


11 


irtAd  chapters  respectively,  may  ei- 
^r  continue  or  recall  the  said  dis- 
pensations, or  may  grant  the  petiton- 
I       as  a  warrant  of  coiistitution  ;  and  in 
I       caie  such  warrant  shall  be  granted, 
I       ^  fees  first  deposited,  shall  be  cred- 
ked  in  payment  for  the  same ;  but  if 
a  warrant  should  not  be  granted,  nor 
the  dispensation  continued,  the  said 
fees  shall  be  refunded  to  the  petition- 
ers, excepting  only  such  part  thereof 
as  shaD  have  been  actually  expended 
by  means  of  their  application. 

StcT.  6.  The  several  state  grand 
ibapters  shall  possess  authority,  upon 
tiie  institution  of  new  royal  arch  chap- 
ters, or  lodges  of  mark  masters,  with- 
10  their  respective  jurisdictions,  to  re- 
^re  die  payraem  of  such  fees  as  they 
may  deem  expedient  and  proper ; 
which  said  fees  shall  be  advanced  and 
paid  into  the  treasury  before  a  war- 
idnt  or  charter  shall  be  issued. 
I  Sect.   7-    No    warrant    shall    be 

'  granted,  for  instituting^  lodges  of  most 
eiceOent,  or  past  masters,  independent 
«fa  chapter  of  royal  arch  Masons. 

Sect.  8.  The  grand  chapters 
severally,  shall  have  power  to  require 
from  the  several  chapters  and  lodges 
Boder  their  respective  jurisdictions, 
sbdi  reasonable  proportion  of  sums, 
received  by  them  for  the  exaltation  or 
advancement  of  candidates,  and  such 
certain  annual  sums  from  their  re- 
spective members,  as  by  their  ordi- 
I  nances  or  regulations  shall  hereafter 
he  appointed ;  all  which  said  sums  or 
4kks  shsdi  be  made  good,  and  paid 
annually,  by  the  said  chapters  and 
hdges  respectively^  into  the  grand 
treasary  of  the  grand  chapter  under 
which  they  hold  their  authority,  on  or 
before  the  first  day  o(  the  respective 
•BBttal  meetings  of  the  said  grand 
dfiiptei'9. 

Sect.  9.  No  warrant  for  the  insti- 
tstion  of  a  new  chapter  of  royal  arch 
Masons  shall  be  granted,  except  upon 
I  ike  petition  of  nine  regular  royal  arch 
Ibsons  J  winch  petition  shall  be  ac- 
I  eoospanied  by  a  certificate  from  the 
chapter  nearest  to  the  place  where  the 


new  chapter  is  intended  to  be  opened, 
vouching  for  the  monl  characters 
and  Masonic  abilities,  of  the  peti- 
tioners, and  recommending  to  the 
grand  chapter  under  whose  authority 
they  act,  to  grant  their  prayer.  And 
no  warrant  for  tlie  institution  of  a 
lodge  of  m^k  master  Masons  shall  be 
granted,  except  upon  the  petition  of 
(at  least)  five  regular  mark  master 
Masons,  accompanied  by  vouchers 
from  the  nearest  lodge  of  that  degree^ 
similar  to  those  required  upon  the  in- 
stitution of  a  chapter. 

Sect.  10.  The  grand  secretaries 
of  the  state  grand  chapters,  shall  sev- 
erally, make  an  annual  communication 
to  each  other,  and  also  to  the  general 
^and  secretary,  containing  a  list  of 
grand  officers,  and  all  such  other  mat- 
ters as  may  be  deemed  necessary  tor 
the  mutual  information  of  the  said 
grand  chapters.  And  the  said  grand 
secretaries  shall  also  regularly  transmit 
to  the  general  grand  secretary  a  copy 
of  all  their  by-laws  and  regulations. 

Sect.  11.  Whenever  there  shall 
have  been  three,  or  more,  royal  arch 
chapters,  instituted  in  any  state,  by 
virtue  of  authority  derived  from  this 
constitution,  a  grand  chapter  may  be 
formed  in  such  state,  (with  the  appro- 
bation of  one  or  more  of  the  |^eneral 
grand  officers)  by  the  high  priests, 
kin^s,  and  scribes,  of  the  said  chapfers, 
who  shall  be  authorized  to  elect  the 
grand  officers.  Provided  always,  tTiat 
no  new  state  grand  chapter  snail  be 
formed  until  after  the  expiration  of 
One  year  from  the  establishment  of 
thejoiiior  chapter  in  such  state. 

Sect.  12.  The  several  grand  and 
deputy  grand  high  priests,  kings,  and 
scribCT,  for  the  time  being,  of  the 
several  state  grand  chapters,  are  bound 
to  the  performance  of  the  same  duties, 
and  are  invested  with  the  same  pow- 
ers and  prerogatives,  throughout  their 
respective  jurisdictions,  as  are  pr«-* 
scribed  to  the  general  grand  officers, 
in  the  4th  section,  1st  article  of  this 
constitution. 

Sect.    13*    The  jurisdiction  of  the 

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12 


KASONke. 


several  Itate  grand  chairs,  shall  not 
extend  beyoi^  the  limits  ot  the  state 
in  which  they  shall  respectively  be 
bolden. 

ARTICLE  in. 

Cf  the  subordinate  Chapters  and 
Lodges, 

Sect.  1.  All  legally  coastituted  as- 
semblies of  royal  arch  Masons  are 
called  chapters  ;  as  regular  bodies  of 
mark  masters^  past  masters,  and  most 
excellent  masters,  are  called  lodges.* 
Every  chapter  ought  to  assemble  for 
work,  at  least  once  in  every  three 
months ;  and  must  consist  of  an  high 
priests,  king,  scribe,  captain  of  the 
bost>  principal  sojourner,  royal  arch 
captain,  three  grand  masters,  secreta- 
ry, treasurer,  and  as  many  members 
as  may  be  found  convenient  for  work- 
ing to  advantage. 

Sect.  2.  Lvery  chapter  of  royal 
arch  Masoqs,  and  lodge  of  mark  mas- 
ter Masons,  throughout  this  jurisdic- 
tion shall  have  a  warrant  of  constitu- 
tion, from  the  grand  chapter  of  the 
state  in  which  they  may  respectively 
be  holder),  or  a  warrant  from  one  of 
the  general  grand  officers.  And  no 
chapter  or  lodge  shall  be  deemed  legal 
without  such  warrant ;  and  Masonic 
communication  (either  public  or  pri- 
vate) is  hereby  interdicted  and  for- 
bidden, between  amy  chapter  or  lodge 
under  this  jurisdiaion,  or  any  meib- 
ber  of  either  of  them,  and  any  chap- 
ter, lodg^,  or  assembly,  that  may  be 
&o  illegally  formed,  opened,  or  holden, 
without  such  warrant,  or  any  or  ei- 
ther of  their  members,  or  any  person* 
exalted,  or  advanced  in  such  illegal 
chapter  or  lodge.  But  nothing  in  this 
action  shall  be  construed  toafiect  any 
chapter  or  lodge  which  was  eatciblish- 
ed  before  the  adoption  of  the  grand 
rdyal  arch  constitution,  at  llartfoid, 
on  the  27th  day  of  January,  A.  D. 
1798. 

•  Sect.  3.  Whenever  a  warrant  is 
issued  for  instituting  a  chapter  of  roy- 

*  The .  subordinate  degrees  of  Ma$onry, 
are  Entered  Apprentice,  Fellow  Crafty  and 
Blaster  Mason.  These  are  also  called  lodges. 


alarch  Mamns,  with  a  power  miaid 
warrant  to  open  and  hold  a  lodge  of 
moat  excellent,  past,  and  mark  master 
Masons,  the  high  priest,  king,  and 
scribe,  for  the  time  being,  of  such 
chapter,  shall  be  the  master  and  war- 
dens in  said  lodges^  according  to  se- 
niority. 

Sect.  4.  All  applications  for  the 
exaltation  or  advancement  of  candi- 
dates, in  any  chapter  or  lodge,  under 
this  jurisdiction,  shall  lie  over,  at  least 
one  meeting,  for  the  consideration  of 
the  members. 

Sect.  5.  No  Mason  shall  be  a 
member  of  two  separate  and  distinct 
bodies,  of  the  same  denomination,  al 
one  and  the  same  time. 

Sect.  6.  No  chapter  shall  be  re- 
moved without  the  knowledge  of  the 
high  priest,  nor  any  motion  made  for 
that  purpose  in  his  absence :  but  if 
the  high  priest  be  present,  and  a  mo* 
tioD  is  made  and  seconded  for  remov- 
ing the  chapter,  to  some  more  cob- 
venient  place  Twithin  the  limits  pre- 
scribed in  their  warrant)  the  high 
priest  shall  forthwith  cause  notifica- 
tions to  be  issued,  to  all  the  membertg 
informing  them  of  the  motion  for  re- 
moval, and  of  the  tone  and  place 
when  the  question  is  to  be  detennm- 
ed:  which  notice  shall  be  issued  at 
least  ten  days  previous  to  the  appoialp 
ed  meeting.  But  if  the  high  priest 
(after  motion  duly  made  and  seconded 
as  aforesaid)  should  refuse  or  neglect 
to  cause  the  notices  to  be  issued  as 
aforesaid,  the  officer  next  in  rank,  who 
may  be  present  at  the  next  regular 
meeting  Ibllowing,  (upon  motion  made 
and  seconded  for  that  purpose)  may 
in  like  manner  issue  the  said  notices. 

Sect.  7*  All  mark  master  Ala- 
sons'  lodges  shall  be  regulated,  in  cases 
of  removal,  by  the  same  rules  as  are 
prescribed  in  the  foregoing  section  for 
the  removal  of  chapters* 

Sect.  8.  The  high  priest,  and 
other  officers,  of  every  chapter,  and 
the  officers  of  every  lodge  of  mark 
master  Masons,  sfiail  be  chosen  aniui^ 
ally,  by  ballot. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MAsomc. 


IS 


Skcp.9*  The  high  pfieat  of  every 
diapcer,  has  it  in  special  charge^  as 
appertaining  to  his  office,  ^hitj,  and 
dignity,  to  see  that  the  by-laws  of  bis 
chapter,  as  well  as  the  general  grand 
royal  areh  constitution,  and  the  gene* 
fal  regulations  of  the  grand  chapter,  be 
duly  obsenred ;  that  all  the  other  offi- 
cers of  his  chapter  perform  the  duties 
of  their  respective  offices  faithfully, 
and  are  examples  of  diligence  and  in- 
dustry to  their  companioas ;  that  true 
and  exact  records  be  kept  of  all  the 
proceedings  of  the  chapter  by  the  se- 
oetary  ;  that  the  treasurer  keep  and 
render  exact  and  just  accounts  ofall  the 
Bonies  beloi^hig  to  the  chapter ;  that 
regular  returns  be  made  by  the  secre- 
laty,  amuially,  to  (he  grand  chapter  of 
aM  adoiissvons  of  candidates  or  mem- 
bcfs;  and  that  the  annaal  dues  to  the 
grand  chapter  be  regularly  and  punc- 
taaDy  paid.  He  has  the  special  care 
and  cherge  of  the  warrant  oi  his  chap- 
ter. He  has  the  right  and  authority  of 
etMmg  his  chapter  at  pleasure,  upon 
any  emergen^  or  occurrence  which  in 
his  judgment  may  require  their  raeet- 
m§y  mi  he  is  to  fill  die  chaur  when 
present,  ft  is  likewise  his  duty,  to- 
gether wkh  his  king  and  scribe,  to  at- 
tend the  meetings  of  the  grand  chap- 
ter (when  dul^  summoned  by  the 
gfani  secretary)  either  in  person,  w 
by  proxy* 

»BCT.  10.  For  the  preservation  of 
secrecy  and  good  harmony,  and  in 
order  that  due  decorum  may  be  ob^ 
served  while  the  chapter  is  engaged  in 
business,  a  worthy  royal  arch  Mason 
is  to  be  appointed  from  time  to  time 
hr  tyimg  the  chapter.  His  duty  is 
fixed  by  custom,  and  known  in  all 
regular  chapters.  He  may  be  elected 
amuially,  but  is  to  continue  in  office 
only  during  good  behaviour,  and  is  to 
be  paid  for  his  services. 

SscT.  11.  All  lodges  of  mark 
master  Masons  are  bound  to  observe 
the  two  preceding  articles,  as  far  as 
ihey  can  be  applied  to  the  govem- 
aKat  of  a  lod^ 

&BCT.  12.  No  chapter  shall  confer 


the  degree  of  mark  master  Bfaaon, 
past  master,  most  excellent  master, 
and  royal  arch  Mason,  upon  any  bro- 
ther, for  a  less  sum  than  twenty  dol«> 
lars.  And  no  lodge  of  mark  master 
Masons  shall  advance  a  brother  to 
that  d^;ree  for  a  less  sum  than  four 
dollars. 

Sbct.  is.  When  either  of  the 
officers  or  members  of  the  general 
grand  chapter,  or  of  ^ny  of  the  state 
grand  chapters,  cannot  personally  at* 
tend  their  respective  meetings,  they 
shall  severally  have  the  authority  to 
constitute  a  proxy,  whish  proxy  ^all 
have  the  same  right  to  a  seat  and  vote 
as  his  constituent. 

▲BTICLS  tv. 

Of  corutiiuting  new  Cke^ert. 
Sect.  1.  When  a  warrant  of  con- 
stitution is  granted,  by  either  of  the 
general  grand  officers,  or  either  of  the 
state  grand  chapters,  for  constitoting 
a  new  chapter  of  royal  arch  Masons, 
the  grand  officers,  respectively,  shall 
appoint  a  day  and  hour  for  constitu* 
ting  the  same,  and  installing  the  new 
officers.  On  the  day  and  hour  ap^ 
pointed,  the  grand  or  deputy  grand 
high  priest,  [or  the  presiding  ^cer 
for  the  time  being,]  with  his  officers, 
meet  in  a  convenient  room,  near  to 
the  place  where  the  new  chapter  is  t# 
be  constituted.  The  cheers  oi  the 
new  chapter  are  to  be  examined  by 
the  deputy  grand  high  priest,  or  some 
companion  appointed  for  that  pur« 
pose;  after  they  are  approved,  they 
are  to  return  to  the  hall,  and  prepare 
for  the  reception  of  the  grand  chapter. 
When  notice  is  given,  by  the  grand 
marshal,  that  they  are  prepared,  the 
grand  chapter  walks  in  procession  to 
the  hall,  when  the  officers  appointed 
for  the  new  chapter,  resign  their  seats 
to  the  grand  officers,  and  take  their 
several  stations  on  the  left  ^  the  ne* 
cessary  cautions  are  then  given  from 
the  chair,  and  the  ceremony  commen 
ces  by  performing  an  anthem  or  ode, 
adapted  to  the  occasion.  The  offi- 
cers and  members  of  the  new  chapter 

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14 


MA80NtC« 


then  form  in  front  of  the  grand  high 
priest. 

The  deputy  grand  high  priest  then 
informs  the  grand  high  priest,  that 
^^  a  number  of  companions  duly  in- 
structed in  the  sublime  mysteries,  be- 
ing desirous  of  promoting  the  honour 
of  the  art,  have  applied  to  the  grand 
chapter  for  a  warrant  to  constitute  a 
new  chapter  of  royal  arch  Masons, 
which  having  obtained,  they  are  now 
assembled  for  the  purpose  of  being 
constituted,  and  having  their  officers 
installed  in  due  and  ancient  form/' 

The  grand  high  pciest  then  directs 
the  grand  secretary  to  read  the  war- 
rant, which  being  done,  he  asks  the 
meml^ers  of  the  new  chapter  if  they 
still  approve  of  the  officers  nominated 
therein;  thb  being  signified  accord- 
ingly, the  grand  high  priest  rises  and 
says, 

"  By  virtue  of  the  high  powers  in 
me  vested,  I  do  form  you,  my  worthy 
companions,  into  a  regular  chapter  of 
royal  arch  Masons ;  from  henceforth 
you  are  authorized  and  empowered  to 
open  and  hold  a  lodge  of  mark  mas- 
ters, past  masters,  and  most  excellent 
masters,  and  a  chapter  of  royal  arch 
Masons;  and  to  do  and  perform  all 
such  things  as  thereunto  may  apper- 
tain ;  conforming  in  all  your  doings 
to  the  general  grand  royal  arch  con- 
stitution, and  the  general  regulations 
of  the  state  grand  chapter ;  and  may 
the  God  of  your  fathers  be  with  you, 
guide  and  direct  you,,  in  all  your 
doings." 

Grand  Honours, 

The  furniture,  jewels,  implements, 
utensils,  &c.  belonging  to  the  chap- 
ter, (having  previously  been  placed 
in  due  form,  covered,  in  the  centre,) 
are  then  uncovered,  and  the  new 
chnpter  is  dedicated,  in  ancient  man- 
ner and  form,  as  is  well  described  in 
the  most  excellent  master's  degree. 
The  deputy  grand  high  priest  then 
presents  tlie  first  officer  of  the  new 
chapter  to  tlie  grand  high  priest, 
saying, 


«  MoH  Excdlent  Grani  High  JPr^»f i 

I  present  you  my  worthy  compan- 
ion — -  ' ,  nominated  in  the  war- 
rant, to  be  installed  high  priest  of 
this  new  chapter:  I  find  him  to  be 
skilful  in  the  royal  art,  and  attentive 
to  the  moral  precepts  of  our  fore- 
fathers, and  have  therefore  no  doubt 
but  he  will  discharge  the  duties  of  bis 
office  with  fidelity. 

The  grand  high  priest  then  address- 
es  him  as  follows : 

"  Most  Excellent  Companion^ 

I  feel  much  satisfaction  in  perform- 
ing my  duty  on  the  present  occasion, 
by  installing  you  into  the  office  of 
high  priest  of  thb  new  chapter.  It 
is  an  office  highly  honourable  to 
all  those  who  diligently  perform  the 
important  duties  annexed  to  it; 
your  reputed  Masonic  knowledge, 
however,  precludes  the  necessity  of 
a  particular  enumeration  of  those 
duties ;  1  shall  therefore  only  ob- 
serve, that  by  a  frequent  recurrence 
to  the  constitution,  and  general  regi^ 
lations,  and  a  constant  practice  of  the 
several  sublime  lectures  and  charges, 
you  will  be  best  able  to  fulfil  them  ; 
and  1  am  confident,  that  the  com* 
panions  who  are  chosen  to  pre- 
side  with  you,  will  give  strength  to 
your  endeavours,  and  support  your 
exertions.  1  shall  now  propose  cer- 
tain questions  to  you,  relative  to  the 
duties  of  your  office,  and  to  which 
1  must  request  your  unequivocal 
answer. 

1.  Do  you  solemnly  promise  that 
you  will  redouble  your  endeavours, 
to  correct  the  vices,  purify  the  morals, 
and  promote  the  happiness  of  those 
of  your  brethren  who  have  attained 
this  sublime  degree. 

2.  That  you  will  never  sufier  your 
chapter  to  be  opened  unless  there  be 
present  nine  regular  royal  arch  Ma* 
sons. 

-3.  That  you  will  never  suffer  eith- 
( er  more  or  less  than  three  brethren 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


liAsbimc. 


15 


fo  be  exalted  io  jeur  chapter  at  one 
and  the  same  time.  * 

4.  That  you  will  not  exalt  any 
9116  to  this  degree',  who  has  not  shown 
a  charitable  and  humane  disposition  ; 
or  who  has  not  made  a  considerable 
proficiency  in  the  foregoing  degrees. 

5.  Tl^t  you  will  promote  the  gen- 
eral good  of  our  order,  and  en  all  pro- 
per occasions  be  ready  td  give  and  re- 
ceive instructions,  and  particularly 
from  the  general  and  state  grand  offi- 
cen. 

6.  That  to  the  utmost  of  your 
power  you  will  preserve  the  solemni- 
ties of  our  ceremonies,  and  behave,  in 
open  chapter,  with  the  most  profound 
respect  and  reverence,  as  an  example 
to  your  companions. 

7.  That  you  will  not  acknowledge 
or  have  intercourse  with  any  chapter 

'  that  does  not  work  under  a  constitu- 
llooa]  warrant  or  dispensation. 

8.  That  you  will  not  admit  any 
ymter  into  your  chapter  who  has  nut 
been  exalted  in  a  chapter  legally  con- 
stituted, without  his  being  first  for- 
Bally  healed. 

9.  That  you  will  observe  and  sup- 
port such  bylaws  as  may  be  made 
by  your  chapter,  in  conformity  to  the 
feoeral  grand  royal  arch  constitution, 
and  the  general  regulations  of  the 
fraud  chapter. 

.  10.  That  you  will  pay  due  respect 
aod  obedience  to  the  instructions  of 
the  general  and  state  grand  officers, 
particnlarly  relating  to  the  several  lec- 
tures and  charges,  and  will  resign  the 
diair  to  them,  severally,  when  they 
may  visit  your  chapter. 

II.  That  you  will  support  and 
observe  th«  general  grand  royal  arch 


following,  or  some  ether  suitable 
prayer : 

"Most  holy  and  glorious  Lord, 
God,  the  great  High  Priest  of  Heaven 
and  earth. 

We  approach  thee  with  reverence, 
and  implore  thy  bles3ing  on  the  com- 
panion to  preside  over  this  new  as- 
sembly, and  now  prostrate  before 
thee ;  fill  his  heart  with  thy  fear,  that 
his  tongue  and  actions  may  pronounce 
thy  glory.  Make  him  steadfast  in  thy 
service ;  grant  him  firmness  of  mind ; 
animate  his  heart,  and  strengthen  his 
endeavours ;  may  he  teach  thy  judg- 
ments and  thy  laws  ;  and  may  the  in- 
cense he  shall  put  before  thee,  upon 
thine  altar,  prove  an-  acceptable  sacri- 
fice unto  thee.  '  Bless  him,  O  Lord, 
and  bless  the  work  of  his  hands.  Ac- 
cept us  in  mercy;  hear  thou  front 
Heaven  thy  dwelling  place,  and  for- 
give our  transgressions. 

Glory  be  to  God  the  Father ;  as  it 
was  in  the  beginning,  &c.''  Response, 
"  so  mote  it  be.^' 

All  the  companions  except  high 
priests,  and  past  high  priests,  are  theft 
desired  to  withdraw,  while  the  new 
high  priest  is  solemidy  bound  to  the 
performance  of  his  duties ;  and  after 
the  performance  of  other  necessary 
ceremonies,  not  proper  to  be  written, 
they  are  permitted  to  return. 

Tlie  grand  high  priest  then  address- 
es  the  new  high  priest,  as  follows : 

^^  Most  Excellent  Companion^ 

'  In  consequence  of  your  cheerful  ao- 
quiescence  with  the  charges  and  regu- 
lations just  recited,  1  now  declare  you 
duly  installed  and  anointed  high  priest 
of  this  new  chapter ;  not  doubting 
your  determination  to  support  the 
reputation  and  honour  of  our  sublime 
order.  I  now  cheerfully  deliver  unto 
you  the  warrant  under  which  you  are 
to  work ;  and  I  doubt  not  you  will 
govern  with  such  good  order  and  reg- 
.ularity,  as  will  convince  your  com- 
panions that  their  partiality  has  not 
been  improperly  placed." 

The  gi-and  high  priest,  then  clothes 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


i6 


MASOIItC. 


tnd  invefU  ^  vb'w  high  priest  with 
various  implements  and  ins^nia  of 
die  order,  with  suitable  charges  to 
each  of  them. 

The  grand  high  priest  then  instalb 
the  several  subordinate  officers  in 
turn ;  and  points  out  to  them  the  du- 
ties appertaining  to  their  respective 
offices :  after  which  he  pronounces  a 
suitable  address  to  the  new  chapter, 
and  closes  the  ceremony,  with  the  fol- 
lowing benediction : 

<<The  Lord  be  with  you  all;  let  bro- 
therly love  continue ;  besot  forgetful 
to  entertain  strangers ;  now  the  God 
of  peace,  our  supreme  High  Priest, 
make  you  perfect  to  do  his  wilL 

Glory  be  to  God  on  high,  and  on 
earth  peace  and  good  will  to  men. 
As  it  was  in  the  beginning,  is  now, 
and  ever  shall  be,"  &c. 

Sect.  2.  At  the  institution  of  all 
lodges  of  mark  master  Masons,  under 
thb  jurisdiction,  the  same  ceremonies 
as  are  prescribed  in  the  foregoing  sec- 
tion, are  to  be  observed,  as  for  as  they 
will  apply  to  that  digree. 

Sect.  3.  Whenever  it  shall  be  in- 
convenient for  the  general  grand  offi- 
cers, or  the  grand  or  deputy  grand 
high  priests,  respectively,  to  attend  in 
person,  to  constitute  a  new  chapter  or 
lodge,  and  install  the  officers,  they 
shall  severally  have  power  and  author- 
ity, td  appoint  some  worthy  high 
priest,  or  past  high  priest,  to  perform 
the  necessary  ceremonies. 

Sect.  4.  The  officers  of  every  chap- 
ter and  lodge  under  this  jurisdiction, 
before  they  enter  upon  the  exercise  of 
their  respective  offices,  and  also  the 
members  of  all  such  chapters  and 
lodges,  and  every  candidate  upon  his 
admission  into  the  same,  shall  take  the 
following  obligation,  viz.  <^  I,  A.  B.' 
do  promise  and  swear,  that  I  will  sup- 
port and  maintain  the  general  grand 
royal  arch  constitution." 

I  hereby  certify,  that  the  foregoing 
is  a  true  copy  of  the  General  Grand 
Royal  Arch  Constitution  for  the 
United  States  ofAmerica^  as  altered, 
amended;  and  ratified,  at  a  meetii^  of 


a  general  grand  chapter,  begun  aai 
holden  at  New- York,  in  the  state  of 
New- York,  on  the  6th  day  of  June| 
A.  D.  1816. 
Witness, 
JOHN  ABBOT,  G.  G.Secretaxy. 

At  the  last  septennial  meeting  of  the 

feneral  grand  chapter  of  the  United 
tates,  held  at  St.  John^s  Hall,  in  tfat 
city  of  New-York,  in  September  last, 
the  grand  chapters  of  the  states  oif 
Ohio  and  Kentucky,  were  regulariy 
recognized;  and  the  general  grand 
secretary,  was  authorized,  upon  his 
receiving  official  information  of  the 
organization  of  a  grand  chapter  in  the 
state  of  New-Hampshire)  to  issue  a 
ckcular,  recognizing  the  same. 

A  committee,  appoihted  to  consider 
whether  any  amendments  to  the  con- 
stitution were  necessary,  after  due 
consideration,  reported  in  the  nega- 
tive, and  the  report  was  accepted. 

A  communication  was  received,  on 
the  subject  of  forming  a  grand  chap- 
ter in  the  state  of  New-Jersey,  which 
was  referred  to  a  committee  who  re- 
ported unfavourably  to  the  measurei 
on  the  ground  that  there  were  but  two 
royal  arch  chapters  in  the  state,  ac- 
knowledging the  jurisdiction  of  this 
general  grand  chapter.  The  report 
was  accepted. 

Hie  following  most  excellent  com- 
panions, were  elected  general  grand 
officers  for  the  ensuing  seven  years  : 

M.  E.  De  Witt  Clinton,  of  Alba- 
ny, New-York,  general  grand  high 
priest. 

M.  C.  Henbt  Fowls,  of  Boston^ 
Massachusetts,  deputy-general  grand 
high  priest. 

M.  E.  John  Snow,  of  Worth ing- 
ton,  Ohio,  general  grand  king. 

M.  E.  Philip  P.  Eckel,  of  Balti- 
more, Maryland,  general  grand  scribe. 

M.  E.  John  Absot,  of  -Westford, 
Massachusetts,  general  grand  secre- 
tary. 

M.  E.  Pktxe  Grinnell,  of  Provi- 
dence, Rhode-Ldand,  general  grand 
treasurer. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MASONIC 


M.    E.     1^.  JoNAtHAN  N1»,   of 

New-Fane,  Vermont,  geoertl  grand 
cfaapkin.  *  . 

M.  E.  David  G.  Cowan,  of  Dan* 
fffle,  Kentucky,  general  grand  mar^ 
dial. 


GRAND  LODGE  OFFfCEBS. 

Tbe  following  is  a  list  of  the  Officers 
of  the  Grand  Lod^  of  the  state 
of  New- York. 

M.  W.  Daniel  D.  Tompkins, 
grand  master. 

R,  W.  John  W.  Mulligan,  depu- 
ty grand  master. 

R.  W.  William  Irving,  senior 
grand  Warden. 

R.  W.  Elisha  Gilbe  rt,  junior 
grand  warden. 

R.  W.  Elias  Hicks,  grand  secre- 
taiy. 

K.  W.  Cornelius  Bogert,  grand 
treasurer. 

Br.  HosEA  Dodge,  grand  tyler. 

?ۥ  W.  Rev.  James  Milnor,  grand 
ehaplaiii. 

W.  Rev.  Henry  J.  Fsltus,  assist- 
ant grand  chaplain. 

Br.  Joseph  Jacobs,  grand  pursui- 
vant. 

Br.  James  Thornburn,  assistant 
grand  pursuivant. 

The  above  named  officers  were  du- 
ly elected  by  the  Grand  Lodge  at  their 
latecoauDunication,  on  the  first  Wed- 
nesday of  June  last. 

The  following  are  appointed  by,  and 
hold  their  offices  during  the  plea- 
sore  of  the  grand  master : 

R.  W.  EuAS  HioLs,  grand  visitant 
of  tbe  first  district. 

R.  W.  EBENsesR  Wadsworth, 
gmd  TisitaDt  of  the  second  district. 

R.  W.  Joseph  Enos,  grand  visitant 
of  tbe  third  district. 

W.  A.  S,  Glass,  ^ 

W.  J.  G.Tarbt,         /   grand 

W.  Lbwis  Seymour,    (•tewards. 

W.W3i.T.HimTEa,  ^ 


W.  T.  W.  Gaeniss, 
W.  J.  Lyons,  Jun. 
W.  R.  Stephens, 
W.  J.  I.  Sickles, 


Grand  Vjficeri  of  CharUy 
W.  John  Brady, 
W.  Thomas  F.  Popham, 
W.  George  M^Kinley, 
W.  Pierre  Teller, 
W.  Resolvent  Stephens, 
W.  John  Degez, 
W.  Samuel  B.  Flemino, 
W.  Abraham  Lott, 
W.  Philip  Becanon, 
W.  Zebedee  Ring, 
W.  Daniel  Wett, 
W.  Caleb  Bacon. 


ir 


grand    x 
'deacons. 


Isu 

class. 

2nd 
class. 

Sd 
class* 

4th 
class. 


Thefncmbcrs  of  the  firit  dan  constitute 
the  Committee  of  Charity,  from  May  to 
Augurt.  Tho  second,  from  August  to  No- 
vember. The  third,  from  November  to 
February.    The  fourth,  from  Febroary  to 

MASONIC  DISCOtmSE, 
Delivered  at  Columhwy  Ohto,  before 
Ohio  Lodge,  No.  SO,  ai  a  receni 
atmiveraary  of  the  feetwml  of  St. 
John,  the  Evangelist.  By  Brother 
Joseph  S.  Hughes,  of  Delaware. 
Finally,  brethren,  whatsoever  things  are 
true,  whatsoever  thfaigs  are  honest,  what- 
soever things  are  just,  whatsoever  things 
are  pure,  whatsoever  things  are  lovely, 
whatsoever  things  are  of  mod  report;  if 
there  be -any  virtue,  and  ff  there  be  any 
praise,  think  on  these  things. 

Paul  to  th«  Philippiaits. 
A  rational,  jntelligent  being,  eleva^ 
ted  to  the  observatory  of  scientific  re« 
finement,  in  viewing  the  grand  ma- 
chineiy  of  nature,  is,  at  once,  over- 
whelmed with  the  god-like  scenery 
winch  surrounds  hun.  His  mind  hov» 
eringover  the  variegated  harmony  of 
the  terrestrial  creation,  and  expand* 
ing  itself  in  view  of  the  brilliant  deco- 
rations of  the  heavens,  lost  in  astonish* 
ment,  he  exclaims,  <<  Great  and  mani- 
fold are  thy  works,  O  God .'  in  wis- 
dom hast  thou  made  them  all''  He 
is  ushered  into  the  immediate  presence 
of  the  supreme  Architect  and  ffpvem- 

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18 


MASONm. 


or  of  the  universe;  and  in  contempla- 
tion of  hit  infinite  wisdom,  power,  and 
benevolence,  developed  in  bis  works, 
he  adores  the  Great  Supreme. 

A  mind,  thus  exercised^  is  naturally 
induced  to  inquire,  for  what  purpose 
is  this  wonderAil  display  of  divine  glo- 
ry f  aod  why  is  there  such  an  aston- 
ishing variety  of  objects,  distinct  in 
themselves,  but  harmoniously  blended 
together,  thus  set  forth  to  the  view, 
embellished  with  the  roost  attractive 
charms?  No  satisfactory  solution  to 
these  involuntary  queries  can  other- 
wise be  given,  than  that  this  furniture 
of  heaven  was  provided  for  the  inves- 
tigation, employment,  and  felicity  of 
man,  in  due'subordi nation  to  the  glory 
of  the  Creator.  And  what  is^an  ? 
Yea;  the  enlightened  mind  will  ex- 
claim. What  is  man,  that  thou,  O 
God,  art  mindful  of  him,  or  the  son  of 
>  man,  that  thou  thus  shroudest  him  in 
the  effulgence  of  thy  glory  ?  The  men- 
tal and  corporeal  properties  of  hu- 
manity give  an  increased  display  of 
the  great  first  cause,  endowed  with  all 
those  powers  and  quajities,  necessary 
for  the  most  exalted  service,  and  the 
most  exquisite  sensations  of  refiued 
enjoyment;  his  mind  is  a  paradise  of 
joy,  and  such  beings  in  social  com- 
bination form  a  heaven  of  delight. 
Thus  furnished,  mankind  are  placed 
in  a  very  important  and  eligible 
sphere  in  the  scale  of  creation.  And 
had  that  course  of  moral  rectitude 
been  pursued,  to  which  his  circum- 
stances directed,  his  interest  invited, 
and  his  obligations  urged,  the  dignity 
of  his  station  would  have  remained 
unimpaired,  and  his  felicity  secure. 
But  a  deviation  from  this  upright  path, 
suddenly  plunged  him  into  dark  con- 
fusion, and  subverted  the  order  and 
harmony  of  this  beautiful  creation. 
No  longer  capable  of  contemplating, 
and  communing  with  the  source  of 
wisdom  and  purity,  he  is  tossed  on  the 
tumultuous  wreck  of  primeval  great- 
ness, and  those  sentiments  of  truth, 
beauty,  order,  and  integrity,  are,  in 
tills  state  of  things,  forever  lost,  and 


overwhelmed  by  the  inundating  tor- 
rent of  infernal  corruption. 

O!  unhappy  subject  of  mortality! 
must  you  thus  bid  an  eternal  adieu  t6 
celestial  enjoyment,  and  banish  for- 
ever those  endearing  sentiments  of  up- 
rightness and  benevolence,  in  which 
consists  the  very  essence  of  life:  aad 
receive  those  impressions  of  eternal 
infamy  which  never  can  be  enjaed? 
Must  the  odoriferous  flowers  of  friend- 
ship and  social  joy,  be  at  once  blasted 
by  the  prostrating  tempest  of  conflict- 
ing passion,  and  the  insufferable  ran- 
cour of  eternal  i*emorse?  How  wretch- 
ed is  his  condition,  how  gloomy  his 
prospects !  Behold  him  shivering  on 
the  barren  shore  of  life,  contemplating 
the  unbounded  ocean  of  desolating 
horror,  and  not  a  solitary  ray  of  hope 
to  dissolve  the  impenetrable  cloud 
which  gathers  around  him. 

From  this  dark  prison  no  created 
arm  can  rescue.  What  radiant  stream 
of  etherial  light  is  that  which  darts 
upon  the  soul,  and  disparts  the  succes- 
sive shades  of  despsliring  gloon)  ?  Be- 
hold from  Heaven,  a  celestial  embas- 
sage !  a  dove-like  seraph,  gently  de- 
scending on  balmy  wings  to  the  wretch- 
ed abodes  of  man,  bearing  the  olive 
branch,  thekeyof  knowledge^  and  the 
word  of  life-  "  Receive,'^  says  the  ce- 
lestial visitant,  "  ^  Heaven's  reposi- 
tory, this  sacred  treasure."  Hear  the 
glad  tidings  of  great  joy,  confide  in 
the  promise,  conform  to  these  things 
which  are  true,  venerable,  just,  lovely, 
and  of  good  report;  receive  the  key 
of  experiment,  investigate  the  princi- 
ples of  rectitude,  and  set  thy  heart  up- 
on those  virtuous,  praise- worthy,  and 
honourable  pursuits  of  celestial  purity, 
and  then  the  branch  of  eternal  peace 
and  reconciliation  shall  secure  a  per^ 
feet  restoration  to  perpetual  and  unal- 
loyed bliss. 

Innumerable  and  invaluable  are  the 
gifts  and  provisions  of  Heaven,  for  the 
felicity  of  man,  and  the  restoration  of 
moral  rectitude,  in  the  world.  Vari- 
ous are  the  regulations  of  the  Divine 
Being,  relative  tojhe  cakivation  of 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MAaomc 


19 


tboBe  principles  ofvirtiie  and  prospei^ 
ity,  which  form  the  prime  character- 
istics of  iotelligent  creatures.  Man  is 
•ot  ooly  required .  to  possess  himself 
af  those  sentiments  and  impressions 
which  will  shape  his  course  of  life  ac- 
eordinff  to  the  rule  of  rectitude  ;  but 
finom  the  coostruction  of  his  mind,  the 
talents  comnutted  to  him,  and  the  coro- 
binadoo  of  circumstaoces  in  which  he 
is  placed,  it  is  evident,  that  innumera- 
ble redprocal  dudes  devolve  upon  him. 
Aanrng  the  most  important  obligations 
of  the  divine  government,  are  those, 
the  fulfilment  of  which,  coll  into  exer- 
dse  the  tender  feelings  and  benevolent 
•ympatfaies  of  the  soul,  that  kind  of 
discipline  which  will  divest  man  of  the 
tinseled  ornaments  of  fancied  great- 
ness :  and  discover  to  him  his  impov- 
erished state;  and  that  illumination 
which  wiU  exhibit  the  odiousness  of 

^  moral  deformity,  and  the  simplicity 
and  beauty  of  truth,  purity,  and  up- 
rigfatness.  The  experience,  and  ap- 
^  pnibaticMi  of  great,  wise,  and  good 
I  nen,  in  all  ages,  abundantly  testify 
I  that  the  mysteries  of  the  M  *,  sonic  or- 
[  wmw.  possess  the  singular  property  of 
developing  to  the  mind,  the  evil  and 
■isery  of  error  in  all  its  combinadon 
sf  honror ;  and  true  virtue  in  its  plain 
andsiaiple  dress,  without  any  of  those 
hypocridcal  ornaments,  or  sour  for- 
mahties,  which  shackle  the  powers  of 
the  miad,  and  paralyse  the  benevolem 
feelings  of  the  soul.  From  whence  did 
this  ma^fioenl  structure  of  truth,  hon- 
csty,  justice,  purity,  beauty,  and  sound 
wpotatiwi,  take  its  rise  ?  Tliat  ener- 
getic Divinky,  which  in  the  beginning 
commaoded  light  to  shine  out  o(  dark 
■eM,  and  breathed  into  existence  the 
■Booital  mind,  did  then  lay  the  foun- 
dation, and  rear  the  eternal  pillars  of 
to  stately  edifice,  which  resisted  the 
overwhelming  billows  that  inundated 
Ae  world,  which  remain  unimpared 
by  the  coroding  lapse  of  time,  and 
will  triuaiph  victorious,  in  the  last 
agony  of  expiring  nature.  The  exte- 
rior of  this  sjTstem  has  for  its  example*. 
the  precision^  arder^  harmony^  and  { 


beauty,  which  the  Divine  Being  haa 
manifested  in  his  works  of  creation. 
The  mysterious  treasures  of  the  sanc- 
tuary are  furnished  by  Divine  revela- 
tion. This  important  sjrstem  opens 
an  unbounded  Aeld  for  the  expansive 
faculties  of  the  immortal  soul.  In  it, 
the  mind  discovers  the  simple  exist- 
ence, the  combined  dependence,  and  re- 
lation of  the  works  of  God.  The  obli- 
gations resulting  from  this  dependence^ 
the  sweet  lustre  of  truth  and  the  reward 
of  virtue,  are  clearly  and  impressively 
exhibited.  But  above  all,  the  avenue 
oi'  communication  between  the  celes- 
tial and  moral  world  is  pointed  out, 
and  the  true  disciple  of  this  mysterial 
order  is  enabled,  from  the  most  infe- 
rior state  of  humility,  to  mount,  by 
sensible  degrees,  and  successive  steps, 
up  to  the  throne  of  God.  And  al- 
though, by  the  insinuating,  decompos- 
ing iuduence  of  infernal  stratagems,  the 
first  temple  was  demolished,  and  i^ 
foundadon  totallv  razed;  the  grand 
master  builder  slain,  the  key  of  Di» 
vine  mystery  apparendy  forever  lost ; 
anarchy,  jarring  discord,  and  eternal 
remorse,  as  a  despotic  triumvirate, 
seated  on  a  throne  of  perpetual  do- 
minion. Yet,  herein  do  we  behold 
these  powers  of  darkness  deposed,  and 
by  the  consummate  skill,  astonishing 
condescension,  and  unmerited,  but  in- 
finitely efficacious  mediation  of  the 
Great  Restorer,  the  second  temple  ris- 
ing in  unprecedented  glory  and  mag- 
nificence. 

Those  social  virtues,  the  exercise  of 
which  constitute  the  greatest  quantum 
of  temporal  happiness,  are  here  culti- 
vated and  enforced.  Man  is  hereby 
taught  that  he  is  a  dependent  being, 
and  that  those  benefits  which  in  neces- 
ity  he  receives,  must  be  reciprocated. 
The  gloomy  vale  of  indigence  and 
misery,  is  opened  to  the  view,  and  the 
strongest  claims  on  the  best  feelings  of 
the  human  heart,  are  made  in  a  man* 
ner  which  en^iures  their  successful  dis- 
charge. Whatsoever  things  the  atten- 
tion of  a  Mason  is  invited  to,  have  eter* 
nal  truth  for  th«ir  fountdatioa :  the  Ho> 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


iuaoMic 


If  Scriptures  «re  pten  as  tbe  role  of 
iDoral  government^  and  the  truths  re- 
vved in  them  are  impressed  as  the 
first  and  all  important  guide  of  faith 
and  practice.  Honesty^  sincerity,  jus- 
tice, and  purity,  with  all  the  lovely 
and  reputable  doctrines  and  practices 
of  the  most  precise  and  beneficent  de- 
portment, are  strenuously  required. — 
If  there  be  any  virtue  in  the  exercise 
of  those  principles,  which  have  their 
unquestionable  source  in  the  pure  and 
immaculate  mind  of  the  Almighty 
Architect,  if  there  be  any  merit  of 
praise  in  those  practices  which  in  mul- 
tiplied instances  have  meliorated  the 
ferocious  passions  of  men,  assuaged 
the  horrors  of  war,  rescued  the  devo- 
ted victims  of  savage  barbarity  from 
the  horrid  instruments  of  torture  and 
death,  in  visiting  the  disconsolate 
mansions  of  poverty,  misfortune,  and 
disease,  and  soothing  the  oppressed 
heart  with  the  endearing  impressions 
of  genuine  sympathy,  accompanied 
with  those  alleviating  supplies  which 
the  warm  hand  of  charity  afford,  then 
as  the  Masonic  system  entitled  ta  that 
approbation  and  respect  which  the 
apostolic  injunction  requires. 

What  among  men  can  be  more 
praise  worthy  than  the  persevering 
and  extensive  exertions  required  by 
the  laws  of  Masonry,  tp  deliver  the 
human  heart  from  those  jarring,  and 
contentious  passions  with  which  it  is 
vitiated,  and  to  unite  the  whole  fami- 
ly of  intelligent  beings  in  one  indisso- 
luble bond  of  eternal  friendship? — 
This  indestructible  fabric  of  our  order, 
has  long  survived  the  second  glory  of 
its  appropriate  emblem,  and  from  its 
exalted  turrets,  the  unassuming  crafts- 
man beholds,  without  a  single  iear,  the 
tumbling  columns  of  earthly  greatness, 
and  the  Parian  monuments  of  other 
times  mouldering  in  the  dust  around 
him.  The  votaries  of  this  august 
edifice  are  armed  with  those  invinci- 
ble weapons  of  defence,  which  are 
prevalent  against  the  fell  destroyer,  to 
which  other  associations  have  fallen 
victims;  and  humbly  rest  satisfied 


with  the  eoicktsive  evidence  they- 
possess,  of  tbe  singular  protection  c^ 
their  system  Iby  the  guardianship  of 
that  Omniscient  Providence  without 
whose  notice  and  Divine  permissioa 
not  even  a  sparrow  falls !  In  thes^a 
circumstances,  it  excites  no  surprise 
that  the  wondering  world  are  inquisi- 
tive respecting  tfcie  mysteries  which 
the  veil  of  secrecy  enshrouds  in  the 
inmost  recesses  of  the  temple ;  or  that 
many  desire  to  be  informed  of  that 
which  arrested  the  attention,  and  ex- 
cited the  strongest  approbation  of  a 
Locke,  a  Washington^*  a  Franklin^ 
and  Warren :  those  men  whom  we  de- 
light to  honour,  and  who  were  never 
dazzled  with  titles  and  distinctions,  or 

•  The  following  letter  from  oar  illustri- 
ous brother,  GsoKGE  WashihgtoiI}  whose 
spirit  has  departed,  but  whose  memorjr 
lives  in  every  grateful  heart,  b  in  answer 
to  an  address  from  the  grand  lodge  of  Mas- 
sachusetts, on  their  presenting  him  with 
their  book  of  constitutions,  which  was  ded- 
icated to  hira,  I>ecember  27,  A.  D.  1792. 

"  To  the  grand  lodge  offru  and  aeeepted 

Maaontf  of  tht  commonweaUk  ofMrntm* 

chuitUs, 

'<  Flattering  as  it  may  be  to  the  human 
mind,  and  tnily  honourable  as  it  is  to  re- 
ceive, from  our  fellow  citizens,  testimonies 
of  approbation  for  exertions  to  promote 
tbe  public  welfare,  it  is  not  less  pleasuig 
to  know  that  the  ipUder  virtues  of  the  hearl« 
are  highly  respected .  by  a  society,  whose 
liberal  pnnciples  are  founded  on  the  im- 
mutable laws  of  truth  and  justice. 

"  To  enlarge  tbe  sphere  of  social  happi^ 
ness,  b  worthy  of  the  benevolent  design  of 
the  Masonic  institution  ;  and  it  is  most  fer- 
vently to  be  wished,  that  the  conduct  of 
every  member  of  the  fraternity,  as  welt  asi 
those  publications  that  discover  the  prinei* 
pies  which  actuate  them,  may  tend  to  con- 
vince mankind,  that  the  grand  object  of 
Masonry,  is  to  promote  the  happiness  of 
the  human  race. 

<'  While  I  beg  your  acceptanoe  of  mir 
thanks  for  the  book  of  consUtutioiis  whkn 
vou  have  sent  me.  and  for  the  honour  you 
have  done  me  in  the  dedication,  permit  me 
to  assure  you,  that  I  feel  all  those  emotions 
of  gratitude,  which  vour  affectionate  ad- 
dr^  and  cordial  wishes  are  calculated  to 
inspire;  and  I  sincerely  prey,  that  the  Great 
Architect  of  the  universe  mav  bless  yoa 
here,  and  receive  you  hereafter  into  his 
immortal  temple. 

GEORGE  WASHUiGTON.'^ 


Digitized  by  VjOOSIC 


1U8<MUC. 


tl 


tafluenced  by  empty  jAndey  oruiii- 


awaniiig  ceremooy. 


These,  with  the 
wise,  the  mighty,  and  the  good  of  an- 
cient periods,  and  of  sainted  memory, 
officiated  at  the  sacred  altar,  and 
evinced  that  Masonry  bad  charms  to 
ctpdvate  the  most  exalted  intellect. 

But  notwithstanding  the  worthy 
cfaancters  who  have  mingled  the  rays 
•f  jthdr  mental  illumination  with  the 
greil  lights  of  Masonry,  and  although 
tlie  ptiaeiples  of  the  order,  which 
htve  been  freely  published  to  the 
waM,  are  acknowledged  onexcep- 
tiooable  by  its  most  virulent  oppo- 
■cots,  yet  nimierous  are  the  cavils, 
and  objeetMOM  made  by  the  supersti- 
tioBS  bigot,  and  suspicious  infidel, 
wko  judge  without  investigation,  re- 
iect  at  raidom,  condemn  at  a  venture, 
and  ^  speak  evil  of  the  things  which 
thev  know  not.'^ 

io  frequently  have  the  popular  ob» 
jectioiis  against  the  order  been  conclu- 
sively answered,  by  ft  host  of  mighty 
duuBpions  for  the  cause,  that  I  do 
■ot  G<»ceive  it  expedient  or  neces- 
sary, to  detain  you  with  an  attempt 
•f  this  kind. 

And  indeed,  it  is  generally  most 
advisable  to  treat  with  silence,  die  ca- 
lumnious invective,  and  smile  at  the 
convulsive  struggles  of  inveterate  ma^ 
fice.  Purity  of  motive  and  conscien- 
tjoiu  integrity,  eventually  triumph 
vidorioosly,  aind  cause  the  sun  of 
prosperity  to  beam  on  the  soul. 

So  numerous,  exalted  and  captiva- 
ting are  the  subjects  which  engage 
Ae  attention  and  enrapture  the  heart 
of  the  MasoD,  that  he  b  neither  dis- 
posed nor  at  leisure,  to  combat  his 
enemies,  and  when  assaulted  by  the 
innoxious  shafts  of  his  adversary,  that 
charity  which  perfumes  the  sanctuary 
of  his  devotion,  excites  in  him  the  fer- 
vent ejaculation,  accompanied  with 
the  bursting  tear  of  compassion,  ^^  Fa- 
ther forgive  them,  for  they  know  not 
what  they  do.^  And  fr<Hn  the  strong 
est  nsotives  is  this  petition  prefer- 
red, for  so  completely  incorporated 
ii  ^  i^ytt«m  with  the  holy  reli* 


gion  of  the  trvmt  Jdiovah,  ihatan 
invective  against  it,  is  an  iaeautious 
slander  on  that  religion.  Nor  can 
we  be  chargeable  with  the  crime  of 
placing  a  stumbling  block  in  ^the.way 
of  those  who  are  in  the  dark  on  thtf 
subject.  The  principles  of  the  order 
are  published  at  large,  the  great  Lightt 
of  Masomy  afibrd  ample  vision  by 
their  own  illuminations,  to  discover 
what  they  are,  and  the  reiterated,  so- 
lemn declarations  of  unquestionable 
veracity,  leave  ungovernable  preju- 
dice without  the  cloak  of  palliation; 
and  if  thb  combined  evidence  will 
not  enforce  conviction,  the  testimony 
of  the  departed  shade  of  Washington, 
or  the  martyr,  St.  Alban,*  would 
prove  unavailing.  Permit  the  decia* 
ration  of  o  jr  I^v.  brother  Inwood, 
of  St.  Paul's  in  England,  ^  believe 
me,  (says  he,)  all  ye  who  are  not 
Masons,  believe  me  as  one  who  dare 
not  speak  falsely  before  the  awful 
presence  of  Almighty  God,  the  Grand 
Architect  of  tlie  heavens  and  the 
earth ;  believe  me,  that  the  royal  order 
of  Masonry,  however  secret  from  its 
most  early  initiation  to  the  present 
•moment,  has  nothing  belonging  to  it 
but  what  is  so  far  from  giving  birth  or 
growth  to  the  commission  of  any  thing 
inconsistent  with  the  strictest  parts  (7 
our  holy  r^igion,  whether  it  respects 
our  duty  to  God  or  man;  yea  so  far 
from  any  thing  of  this,  that  every  part 
of  it,  if  duly  followed,  has  a  direct 
tendency  to  enforce  the  performance 
of  every  one  of  its  most  holy  pre- 
cepts." 

A  nd  now  my  hearers,  what  remains 
to  satisfy  curiosity  and-  prejudice? 
Shall  we,  at  this  time^  read  the  veil  of 
the  temple,  strip  away  the  curtains  of 
the  sanctuary,  and  expose  to  the  un- 
feeling j^aze  of  common  view,  the  del» 
icate  charms  and  enchanting  lustre  of 
solemn  mystery/  tliat  which  none 
have  been  suflered  to  behold,  how- 

*  St.  Alban,  who  was  the  Ant  Cbrifltiaa 
martyr  in  England,  and  tho  fint  paa^ 
marter  In  that  country,  suffered  A.  D. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


S2 


HAS0Ni6. 


ever  long  characterised  as  Masons, 
and* received  the  initintory  grades  ot' 
tht  order,  except  such  as  l)y  a  Ion? 
series  of  trial,  patience,  endurance, 
and  perseverance,  accompanied  with 
the  'most  piercing  scrutiny  of  their 
principles  and  conduct,  have  been 
found  worthy  to  enter  in  and  behold  ? 
ShaH  the  mystery  now  dissolve,  and 
thb  sublime  order,  at  once  be  lost  in 
the  chaotic  wreck  of  almost  every 
other  system  ?  ■  -This  will  never  3 
BO,  it  never  can  be ! 

*^  It  is  impossible  but  that  offences 
should  come,''  and  through  the  weak- 
ness and  depravity  of  human  nature, 
the  best  of  institutions  are  frequently 
disreputed  by  the  mal-conduct  of  thnir 
members.  The  keeper  of  the  gates 
of  the  temple,  arrogate  not  the  pre* 
rogative  of  judging  man  by  his  heart. 
Hence  the  addiess  of  many  an  Absa- 
lom, and  a  Judas  prevails.  Let  the 
*«  woe"  then  fall  upon  him  "  by  whom 
the  offence  cometh ;"  but  let  this  ex- 
cellent institution  be  screened  from 
corrupt  imputation :  for  the  objection, 
if  admitted,  will,  in  due  proportion, 
afifect  every  system  of  virtue,  proprie- 
ty, and  true  religion  among  men. 

Although  for  the  present,  as  hereto- 
fore, the  votaries  of  Masonry  may  ex- 
pect to  be  made  the  objects  of  ridi- 
cule and  persecution,  yet  the  true  and 
faithful  brotlier  is  enabled  to  discover 
within  the  vet'/,  the  Rowing  spark  of 
charity  which  shall  flame  in  eyery 
heart,  and  the  dawning  light  of  that 
day  which  is  at  no  distant  period^ 
shall  illumme  the  world  with  its  high 
meridian  splendour,  when  the  trium- 
phant arch  of  universal  benevolence 
shall  sensibly  include  the  whole  hu- 
man family,  and  when  peace,  eternal 
peace,  shall  spread  wide  its  wings, 
and  cover  all  the  borders  of  the  in^et- 
hited  worid. 

Worskij^l Ma^ersj  Wardensyond 
Brethren^  permit  me  to  congratulate 
yon  on  the  return  of  the  anniversary 
of  our  beloved  and  long  departed  bro- 
ther,  whose  virtues  we  this  day  com- 
aMtmorate^  and  while  we  reflect  upon 


his  Heavenly  character,  his  exalte«l 
virtue,  his  unbounded  benevolence, 
and  compajtsionate  sympathy:  let  our 
liearts  b<Mnf)amed  with  a  laudable  em- 
ulation to  imitate  his  life  and  follow  his 
example.  He  styles  himself  •*  a  bro- 
ther and  companion  in  tribulation;" 
not  only  as  having  shared  the  bitter 
draught  of  adversity  himself,  but  also, 
as  one  who  voluntarily  claimed  rela- 
tionship with  the  numerous  sons  of 
sorrow.  As  9,  fait  fid  companion^  he 
rainsfled  his  tears  with  tlie  weeping 
child  of  misfortune  and  woe,  and  by 
the  soothing  sympathy  of  a  k  ndred 
spirit,  infuses  life  and  vigour  into  the 
soul  sinking 'under  the  accumulated 
pressure  of  wretchedness.  While  the 
resplendent  glory  of  his  character^ 
who  was  the  faithful  steward  of  the 
manifold  mysteries  of  wisdom  and 
godliness,  bursts  upon  onr  slumbering 
memory,  let  us  consider  the  import- 
ance of  adapting  thb  festive  celebra- 
tion to  the  principles  and  practice  of 
him  whom  we  commemorate.  Breth- 
ren, a  great  and  yaluable  deposit  has 
been  placed  in  our  hands,  and  on  the 
regularity  and  uprightness  of  your  con- 
duct and  practice,  much  of  the  glory 
and  renown  of  thb  institution  depends. 
From  the  principles  of  the  order,  and 
especially  on  account  of  the  declara- 
tions of  its  happy  tendency,  the  world 
expects  an  abundant  harvest  of  whole- 
some and  delicious  fmit.  Let  us  then 
cautiously  avoid  those  tempestuous 
blasts  of  passion,  and  dashing  torrents 
of  corruption,  which  devastate  the 
mental  cultivation,  blight  the  sweet 
and  fragrant  flowers  of  virtue,  and 
eclipse  in  despau^ing  gloom  the  bright 
prospects  of  an  abundant  reward.  As 
the  further  growth  and  additional 
glory  of  our  sublime  edifice  depen<ls 
much  upon  the  rectitude  and  assiduous 
industry  of  the  labourers  employed, 
let  us  this  day,  while  encircling  the 
altar  of  virtue,  ^  pass  an  irtvvcK^le 
decree"  of  exclusion  against  every  vice 
and  impropriety  that  has  ever  intruded 
among  us^  raise  the  cautious  hand  of 
repulmn   against  the   approach   oC 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MASONIC. 


?3 


proffi^ite  iniiMity,  attd  with  salutarj 
dtsdpline,  terminate  the  evil  use  of 
**  wUempered  mortar.^ 

While  I  would  invite  you  to  rejoice 
with  me  on  account  of  the  vigilance 
and  determined  resolutions,  which  ap- 
pear to  exist  in  the  breast  of  each 
member  of  the  chapter  lately  estab- 
lished in  this  vicinity,  against  impro- 
per admissions  to  that  exalted  grade, 
let  every  companion  renew  his  vows, 
and  with  anceasing  anxiety,  solemnly 
reflect  upon  the  vital  importance  of  a 
cautious  selection,  and  tremble  in  view 
of  the  probability,  if  not  certainty^ 
that  the  admission  of  a  shigle  degene- 
rate,.  unwholesome  plant  into   ^Mhe 
garden  of  the  lodge,''  will  bring  dis- 
ease and  ruin  upon  the  healthy  and 
Tigoroas  in  its  vicinity.    And  let  it 
not  be  considered  presuming,  to  sug- 
gest to  lodges  of  an  inferior  grade,  the 
propriety  of  following  the  example, 
or  at  leaist,  of  pursuing,  with  increased 
energy,  a  similar  course:   ^^so  that 
our  good  may  not  be  evil  spoken  of, 
and  tfaat  with  well  doing  we  may  put 
to  silence  the  ignorance  of   foolish 
BMD.     As  free,  and  not  using  our  lib- 
erty for  a  cloak  of  maliciousness,  but 
as  servants  of  God,"  and  safe  deposi- 
tories of  invaluable  mystery. 

As  we  commence  and  progress  in 
Masonic  science,  it  b  our  indispensa- 
ble duty  to  look  well  to  our  Hepi^ 
and  by  the  help  of  the  three  great 
kgkU  of  oar  order,  to  preserve  a  dis- 
tinct view  of  the  wtraigkt  and  narrow 
paikj  lest,  we  err  and  grope  in  the 
ilark.  If  the  blindfolding  influence  of 
■loral  depravity,  has  ever  been  taken 
ifom  the  eyes  of  our  understanding,  if 
we  bave  been  truly  brought  to  Hghiy 
bowever  mortified  by  the  discovery  of 
mr  itmpooerUhed  and  forlorn  mttuh 
titm  in  ourselves,  yet  we  reioice  in 
the  Hghi,  because  of  the  soul-ravbh- 
ing  charms,  which  by  it  we  are  ena- 
bled to  behold  and  enjoy. 

Pcdth  is  thereby  created,  and  confr 
deace  iaiiiaed ;  and  by  a  proper  at- 
leatjoo  to  die  meofit  of  cultivation,  in 
ID  acceptable  division  of  our  time,  we 


are  rendered  capable  of  keeping  jncre 
and  umuUied^  the  prime  charactefistic 
of  the  order,  and  from  a  feeling  sense  of 
our  own  wants,  the  good  seed  of  be^ 
nevolence  is  sown  in  the  heatrt 

By  increased  light  we  discover  oop- 
selves  on  the  level  of  time,  and  that 
we  must  soon  launch  into  the  botmd* 
less  ocean  of  eternity ;  yet  if  we  walk 
uprightly,  and  form  our  actions  by  the 
square  of  virtue,  we  are  furnished 
with  the  sure  anchor  of  hopcj  which 
will  eventually  moor  us  in  the  haven 
of  eternal  repose. 

Let  us  endeavour,  whh  a  cautious 
unerring  hand,  to  spread  the  cement 
of  brotherly  love,  that  the  noise  of 
contention  may  never  be  heard,  that 
He  incense  of  charity  out  of  a  pure 
heart  may  flame  on  the  altar  of  fra- 
ternal afiection,  and  that  by  happy  ex- 
perience we  may  find  it  to  be  ^  a  good 
and  a  pleasant  thing  for  brethren  to 
dwell  together  in  unity.'' 

The  particular  impressions  which 
may  be  made  on  any  of  our  hearts  and 
consciences,  we  shidl  do  well  to  cherish 
white  we  live,  and  avoid  that  vanity, 
and  self-righteousness  which  will  cause 
us  to  be  ofiended  at,  and  reject  the 
tried  comer  stoncy  ajid  with  the  infu- 
riate mob  of  sanguinary  Jews,  accept 
of  a  thief  and  a  malefactor  in  prefer- 
ence. But  let  us,  rather,  search  after 
that  without  which  all  is  confiisioD, 
and  the  grand  system  of  salvation  in- 
complete. Let  us  inquire  into  the 
mysterious  excellencies  and  advanta* 
ges  of  that  ^^  new  name  which  no  man 
knoweth  saving  him  that  receiveth 
it  f  that  we  may  be  filled  with  that 
joy  which  the  world  can  neither  give 
nor  take  away,  and  with  which  the 
stranger  intermeddleth  not. 

In  whatever  station  we  may  be  pla* 
ced,  order,  and  a  strict  adherence  la 
the  constitution  of  our  system  is  indis- 
pensably necessary,  remembering  that 
^  the  fear  of  man  bringeth  a  snare,^ 
thus  by  faithful  perseverance  we  shaB 
at  length  be  enabled  to  finish  the  great 
and  glorious  performance  of  unsdom^ 
strength^  and  beauty^  and  our  work 

Digitized  by  CjOOQiC  


24 


BCASome; 


be  rendered  complete  in  htm  who  is 
"  the  chief  comer  stone,"  in  whom  all 
the  building,  fitly  framed  tc^ether, 
groweth  anto  an  holy  temple  in  the 
Lord.  Then  may  we  sing  the  song 
of  joy,  and  devoutly  dedicate  our 
work  to  him,  in  and  by  whom  it  is 
made  acceptable. 

Tedious,  difficult,  and  dangerous  is 
omr  pilgrimage  in  this  vale  of  tears 
and  darkness,  yet  by  entering  into  the 
true  spirit  of  all  our  duties,  and  rely- 
ing on  that  faithful  conductor  who 
"  leads  the  blind  by  a  way  they  know 
not^"  we*  shall  escape  the  snares  of 
peraecution,  be  freed  from  captivity, 
and  find  admission,  through  the  four- 
fold veil  of  mystery,  into  the  blissf^ 
region  of  perfect  light,  where  we  sheV 
no  more  ^<  see  through  a  glass  dark- 
ly ;"  but  in  the  full  enjoyment  of  un- 
chsturbed  repose,  under  the  ever-liv- 
ing and  highly  exalted  ARCH  of  the 
TRIUNE  JEHOVAH, 

'^  Then  we  shall  see,  and  bear,  and  know, 

All  we  desir*d|  or  wish'd  below ; 
And  ev'iy  powY  find  sweet  employy 
In  that  etinnal  worid  of  joy. '^ 
So  mote  it  be. 


For  trk  Masonic  Rxoistbr. 
CoMPANioH  Pratt, 

The  author  of  the  following  original  ode, 
fis  yet  io  bis  HeenM.  He  b  a  resident  of  the 
village  of  Hamilton,  county  of  Cataraugos, 
•tate  of  New  York.  His  conceptions  of 
the  order  are  sublime,  although  i\ot  a  Ma- 
^a  ;  yet  the  son  of  a  brother  mark  master, 
and  bi-ed  in  the  eenuine  principles  of  the 
onier.  .Although  I  think  be  has  qo  reason 
to  be  ashamed  of  the  production,  his  first 
essay  on  the  subject,  be  wishes  his  name 
Dpt  made  public.  By  giving  it  a  place' in 
the  Register,  you  will  please  many  of  your 
subscribers,  and  particularly  your  fnend 
mpd  patron, 

S.  •.  W.  ♦ — . 

Marietta,  Ohio,  1820. 

MASONIC  ODE, 

Sung  at  the  festival  of  St.  John  the  EMMgel- 
,isty  before  HamUton  IjodgCf  Jio.  274,  on 
Mondavi  December  27,  A.  L.  5819. 

All  hail !  the  great  mysterious  art, 

Grand  offspring  from,  above. 
Which  fondly  twines  each  genial  heart, 

In  harmony  and  lore. 


Come,  Masottf ,  join  di#  festtTe  board. 

Awake  the  tuneful  lay ; 
Unite  in  friendship,  peace,  and  love^ 

'Tis  Masons'  holy  day. 

To  him  whose  birth  this  day  retumSr 

St.  John,  the  great  and  good  ; 
The  patron  of  our  glorious  art. 

Accepted  child  <h  God. 

To  him  we'll  |oin  in  solemn  praise, 

Our  patron,  and  our  friend; 
And  each  his  heart  and  voice  will  raisef^ 

And  grateful  plaudits  send. 

With  fervent  seal,  and  pure  delight) 

We'll  wake  the  Joyful  strain  ; 
Till  in  the  great  Grand  Lodge  we  meet. 

Where  joys  immortal  reign: 

Come,  bring  the  wreath,  the  trio  bind. 

Faith,  bbarity,  and  love ; 
To  great  St.  John,  a  splendid  star 

In  the  Grand  Lodge  above. 

Now  breathe  our  pray'rs  from  friendship's 
source, 

And  as  they  upward  roll, 
Relume  a  hope  of  lasting  pe^U^, 

To  his  immortal  tonl. 

Then  hail !  the  great,  mysterious  art, 

Grand  offspring  from  above. 
Which  fondly  twines,  each  genial  hearti 

In  harmony  and  love. 

For  thk  Masohic  Bxtfisrspu 

TO  THE  GRAND  ARCHITECT  OF 
THE  UNIVERSE. 

To  the  gfeat  Master  of  the  skies. 

Let  every  mortal  bow ; 
From  cheerful  hearts  letpraises  rise, 

And  grateful  incense  now. 

The  arch  of  heaven  proclaims  his  pow^. 
And  shows  hb  wond'rous  skill, 

WbSe  nature,  every  passing  hour. 
Points  out  his  goodness  still. 

Where  yonder  orbs  unshaken  move, 

Or  in  the  smiling  green, 
'Midst  Afric's  sands,  or  India's  groves. 

The  Builobr's  hand  is  seen. 

The  lightning's  glance,  the  thunder's  roai:^ 

And  Etna's  lurid  flame, 
Bear  his  dread  frown  from  shore  to  shore> 

And  speak  his  awful  name. 

For  though  he's  kind,  he's  also  jnst, 

Then,  trembling,  fear  hit  rod. 
When  he  pfoclaims  to  mortal  dust, 

«  Prepare  to  meet  thy  God." 

Prepare,  and  square  your  liv«s  while  beret 

i>u:h  angry  passion  bind, 
Then  meet  the  grave,  nor  let  a  fear 


6BOORAPHICAL. 


25 


mM  tfaon^  the  tott*riiig&brief«n, 
Which  God  to  thee  has  given, 

finth  but  o'ertiirows  thy  cottage  walli 
To  boild  it  up  ia  IleaTen. 

When  te  grand  master  tfaall  appear» 
Toar  work  will  staud  the  test, 

Tbb  welcome  plaadit  you  shall  hear, 
^  Come,  enter  into  rest" 


6EX>ORAPHIGAL. 

FROM  AFRICA. 
We  have  been  favoured  with  the 
pemal  of  the  log-book  kept  on  board 
the  ship  Elizabeth,  on  a  voyage  to 
Sherbro,  on  the  west  coast  of  Africa, 
widi  81  free  people  of  colour,  for  the 
porpose  of  establishing  a  colony  on 
tkit  coast.  The  ship  sailed  from 
New-York,  on  the  6th  of  February, 
tad  arrived  at  Sierra  Leone,  on  the 
9di  day  of  March,  1820,  all  in  good 
braldi  and  spirits,  from  whence  she 
fetaroed  in  safety,  leaving  the  colo- 
nists at  the  island  of  Canipelar.  She 
perfbnned  the  whole  voyage  in  the 
i|iaee  of  120  days,  50  of  which  she 
lay  IB  port.  This  log-book,  which 
WM  kept  by  Mr.  Gray,  mate  of  the 
iUp^  contains,  besides  a  particular  ac- 
cout  of  the  voyage,  many  very  in- 
leresdfig  remarks,  and  geographical 
tediptioos  of  various  parts  of  Afri- 
ca ;  together  with  a  correct  statement 


ty  was  equally  surprised,  the  Afri- 
cans came  along  side  in  canoes  ;  they 
were  no  sooner  on  board,  than  they 
were  surrounded  by  the  colonists  of 
both  sexes.  One  African  was  com- 
pletely clothed  almost  the  moment  he 
was  on  deck,  by  contributions  from 
the  colonists.  His  deception  was  how- 
ever soon  discovered,  for  he  shortly 
went  on  shore,  and  aAer  securing  the 
clothing  already  bestowed,  he  again 
made  his  appearance,  if  possible  more 
naked  than  at  first,  in  hopes  of  ob- 
taining another  suit,  from  those  who 
were  in  greater  want  of  them  than  him- 
self. The  pity  of  our  adventurers,  for 
these  naked  men  soon  ceased,  when 
they  learned  that  the  Crew  men^  as 
they  are  called,  were  well  provided 
for,  and  could,  at  their  pleasure,  dress 
themselves  with  better  suits,  than 
many  of  our  adventurers  possessed. 

"  The  Crew  nation,  or  tribe,  from 
whence  these  men  came,  is  situated 
near  200  miles  south  of  Sierra  Leone. 
It  appears  they  are  very  useful  in  the 
settlement,  being  employed  in  the 
most  laborious  work,  and  in  watering 
the  ships  of  war.  Their  daily  wages 
from  tne  rising  to  the  setting  of  the 
sun,  is  one  shilling  sterling. 

<<  The  trade  from  England  and  the 
West  Indies,  to  Sierra  Leone,  appears 
to  be  considerable.  The  imports  are, 
hard  and  earthen  wares,  all  kinds  of 
dry  goods  and  groceries,  small  stores, 
furniture,  butter,  cheese.  Sec.  The 
exports  are,  camwood,  bees-wax, 
palm  oil,  ivory,  and  gold  dust;  to- 
gether with  considerable'  quantiti^  of 
!  excellent  ship  timber,  which  is  taken 
on  board,  about  thirty  miles  up  the 
river  from  Sierra  Leone,  at  Ben  island, 
where  the  Crew  meny  who  are  gene- 
rally industrious,  are  found  very  use- 
ful in  loading  ships,  boating,  rafting, 
&c.  They  perform  the  labours  of  the 
day  with  much  cheerfulness,  regard- 
less of  the  burning  rays  of  the  tropical 
sun,  which  at  noon  day  darts  its  beams 
upon  their  naked  bodies,  which  to  an 
American  or  European,  would  be  al- 
most insupportal^e,      , 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


86 


OtoGJUFBICiX* 


<<  We  had  no  sooner  come  to  ai>- 
ehc»r  at  Sierra  Leone,  than  two  Span- 
iards came  on  board,  and  enmiired 
particularly  after  the  schooner  Centi- 
nel,  which  they  observed  was  fitting 
out  at  New- York,  and  on  being  in- 
formed she  was  detained  on  suspicion 
of  fitting  out  for  the  slave  trade,  they 
appeared  much  surprised.  There  were 
then  lying  there,  four  slave  vessels, 
under  Spanish  colours,  which  had  been 
captured  by  the  British,  having  every 
thing  prepared,  for  taking  on  board 
500  slaves  ;  and,  as  stated  by  one  of 
their  crew,  would  have  accomplished 
their  object  in  24  hours,  had  they  not 
been  taken. 

^'  All  that  part  of  Africa  we  had  an 
opportunity  of  seeing,  including  a 
great  part  of  the  country  opposite 
Sierra  Leone,  under  the  left  bank  of 
the  river,  is  high  and  mountainous,  ri- 
sing graduf^lly,  in  spme  places,  from 
the  shores  bordering  on  the  sea-side ; 
and  in  other  places,  the  land  is  very 
high  within  half  a  mile  of  the  sea,  par- 
ticularly that  part  of  the  coast  from 
cape  Sierra  Leone  to  cape  Shilling, 
and  frpm  tbencej  in  an  easterly  direc- 
tion, as  far  as  the  eye  can  distinguish, 
the  land  is  very  high  and  mountain- 
ous, covered  with  small  wood,  inter- 
spersed with  tall  trees,  among  which 
is  seen  the  cocoanut  tree  towering 
its  leaQess  truok;  above  ali  the  rest, 
the  whole  clothed  with  a  beautiful 
green  foliage,  excepting  the  tree  last 
mentioned,  whose  top  puts  forth  a  few 
&lend.er  branches,  and  these  only  cloth- 
ed with  leaves.  That  the  trees  of 
Africa  are  immensely  large,  w«,CQuld> 
j^inly  discover,  from  the  moostifous 
size  of  the  canoes  ^e.  saw  at  Sierra 
Leone,  many  of  which  are  from  SO  to 
50  (eet  in  length,  and  from  4  to  6  feet 
in  breadth.  The.  trees  of  which  the 
largest  of.  these  cauoes  were  made^ 
must  have  been  from  30  to  45  feet  in 
circumference. 

"  The  population  of  Sierra  Leone, 
including  Freetown  and  Crewtown,  is 
about  15,000.  In  this  settlement  is  a 
regular  court  house  and  jail,  a  church, 


being  a  Inranch  of  the  church  of  Etg* 
land,  besides  several  meeting  bouses, 
in  one  of  which  Mr.  Coker  preached 
to  a  very  large  congregation,  the  first 
Sunday  after  our  arrival  in  Afri€a» 

<^  At  this  place  is  a  governor,  depu- 
ty governor,  and  all  other  necessary 
civil  officers.  Their  trials  are  by  ju- 
ry, which  consists  of  twelve  ooloored 
men. 

^^  The  military  strength,  consists  of  a 
garrison,  mounting  fr^m  ten  to  twenty 
heavy  cannon ;  and  at  this  time,  the 
force  consists  of  but  two  companies  of 
regular  coloured  soldiers,  and  part  of 
a  west  India  regiment.  This  for- 
tress b  built  of  stone,  on  an  elevated 
situation,  commanding  the  town  and 
harbour. 

^^All  the  back  country,  which  is 
very  mountainous  and  woody,  is  in- 
terspersed   with    small    settlements. 
The  soil  is  of  a  reddish  colour,  and 
the  stones  which  lie  scattered  about, 
resemble   iron   ore,  but   are  not  so 
heavy.  The  coloured  inhabitants  dress 
vei^  gay  on  Sundays^  and  many  r 
them  appear  respectable.      The  ^ 
moderate  use  of  ardent  spirits  }^\ 
exbting    evil,   which  certainly    > 
great  measure   might    be   dispfdc 
with,  and  whoever  wishes  to    his 
good  health  in  Africa,  must  rsy; 
from  this  practice  alt(^etber.    t  of 

"  Tobacco,  sugar  cane,  and  Ciie-. 
might  be  cultivated  in  this  vicinit3r»-' 
great  advantage  \  but  their  cultivat»\ 
does  not  appear  to  be  encouraged,  b^ 
ing  all  imported  from  England,  or  tb 
(  British  plantations  in  the  ^est  Indies 
.^t  a  very  advanced  price,  owing  to  tl^ 
heavy  duties  imposed  on  all  such  good] 

"  Freetown  is  bulk  on  the  dedi  vi^ 
of  a  mountain,  commanding  a  fe| 
prospect  from  the  sea.  Several  co^ 
siderable  buildings  were  going  oa,  aiq 
great  advantages  hdd  out  to  meoba^ 
ics.  Several  of  our  colonists  had  q 
fers,  which  they  of  course  declinei 
The  governor's  house  is  two  stc^Hj 
high ;  the  windows  have  green  \Axvl\ 
on  the  outside,  and  it  is  surrouiHtoci  X 
a  number  of  onthousesi  lU  of  wiii^ 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


010GEA?tlCAL. 


tr 


Bitttt  liaYe  cost  many  thousands  of 
pDonds. 

**  The  woods  abound  with  wild  fowl, 
•nd  other  game,  and  the  rivers  are 
well  stored  with  fish,  and  oysters  are 
in  great  abundance. 

^'The  land  on  the  west  coast  of 
Africa  is  extremely  fertile,  producing 
ill  the  necessaries,  and  even  the  lux- 
ories  of  life  in  great  abundance,  which 
appear  to  grow  spontaneously,  with 
very  fittle  attention  to  cultivation. 
The  land  is  heavily  timbered,  and 
wdl  calculated  for  shipbuilding,  and 
for  general  uses. 

**  The  most  high  and  mountainous 
parts  of  the  country  abound  with  ti- 
gers, leopards,  panthers,  hyena,  ele- 
phants, and  a  great  variety  of  other 
wild  beasts.     The   mode  of  taking 
these  animals,'  I  could  not  learn,  ow- 
ifl^,  I  presume,  in  a  gre^t  measure,  to 
the  natives  who  inhabit  the  sea-board 
\m,^mg   been  so   busily    engaged  in 
catchuig  thdr  fellow  men,  that  they 
amid  not  turn  their  attention  to  any 
e&er  business.      Could  this  barba- 
rmxs  traffic  in  human  blood  be  entirely 
^  oliahed,  and  the  present  colony  be 
^  U  established,  no  doubt  can  exist 
^t  a  trade  might  be  opened  with  thb 
"*"  of  the  world,  so  as  to  enrich  the 
**er8,  and  prove  a  great  source  of 
**^irae  to  the  parent  country. 
^  A  tew  straggling  huts,  with  as  much 
..eared  land  about  them  as  is  necessa- 
fj  to  produce  their  yearly  supply  of 
rice,  or  Indian  com,  is  what  is  gene- 
ff^ty  termed  a  town  in  Africa.  Each 
town  is  governed  by  a  person  who  is 
called  a  Head-man;  to  whom  how- 
ever, no  great  respect  is  shown  by  the 
people.     All  the  difference  observable 
between  the  houses  of  the  head-man, 
#r.  kiag,  is  in  thdr  dimensions.     The 
lea  mn  buih  more  for  convenience 
I  ornament ;  and  the  meanest  sub- 
in  diat  country  are  owners  of 
[  uid  lands.     Near  the  door  of 
sh  house  is  seen  the  yam,  the  plan- 
I,  the  cocoanut,  and  a  variety  of 
'  fruits  and  nuts,  which  all  grow 
r  fiuk  or  no  attention  tp  cultiva* 


tion.  The  natives  of  Africa,  do  not 
trouble  themselves  with  the  cares  of 
to-morrow,  the  great  God  of  natura^ 
supplying  all  their  wante  by  the  spon- 
taneous productions  of  the  earth.  The 
lofty  trees  which  surround  their  dwell- 
ings are  inhabited  by  monkeys,  par- 
rots, and  birds  of  every  other  kind 
natural  to  a  tropical  climate. 

"Many  parts  of  the  country  are 
stocked  with  fine  cattle,  good  horses, 
sheep,  swine,  and  goats  in  great  abun- 
dance.*' 


COMMUNICATION. 

There  is  perhaps  no  book  more 
needed,  and  more  difficult  to  write, 
than  a  small  compendium  of  geogra- 
phy, suitable  in  price  and  size  for 
schools  and  common  families.  Among 
the  many  attempts,  none  in  our  lan- 
guage have  succeeded  so  well  as  Mr. 
Ewin^,  of  Scotland;  but  even  that 
work  IS  not  free  from  defects,  and  its 
extreme  brevity  and  some  errors  res- 
pecting America,  render  it  peculiarly 
objectionable  on  this  side  the  Atlao. 
tic. 

But  the  writer  olf  this  feels  happy  to 
state,  that  he  conceives  all  these  diffi- 
culties surmounted,  by  an  edition  of 
the  above  work  just  from  the  press  of 
Mr.  Charles  N.  Baldwin,  revised  and 
adapted  to  this  country,  by  the  mas- 
terly pen  of  William  Darby,  esquire. 
The  part  respecting  America,  Mr.  D. 
has  written  aiiew,  and  accompanied 
it  with  interesting  and  useful  tables. 
It  is  doubtful  whether  so  much  geo- 
graphical information  was  ever  before 
condensed  within  the  compass  of  32 d 
pages. 

In  this  book,  which  costs  but  one 
dollar f  the  public  have  a  text  book  for 
schools,  and  families  a  book  of  refer- 
ence, containing  a  sufficiency  of  the 
subject  for  all  the  ordinary  concerns 
of  life;  and  which  will  be  more  easily 
committed  to  memory,  as  it  is  totally 
unincumbered  with  any  tedious  pro- 
lixity of  style.  IndeecL  it  may  witb 
trum  be  said  that  no  scientific  book  of 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


28 


HltTMUCAL. 


Ae  mty  surpoMes  it  in  value,  and  that 
no  family  ought  to  be  without  it 

HISTORICAL^ 

IRISH  ANTIQUITIES. 

A  history  of  Ireland,  under  the  title 
of  Chronicles  of  UUa%  by  the  cele- 
brated Roger  Cr  Conner,  has  been  an- 
nounced for  publication.  It  commen- 
ces from  the  earliest  point  of  time 
which  b  recorded  by  the  invention  of 
letters,  with  a  traditionarv  portion, 
which  was  the  work  of  Edus,  Prince 
of  the  Gael  of  Sciot  of  Ib-er^  who 
ruled  in  Gael-ag  1400  years  before 
Christ.  It  b  asserted  in  the  prospec- 
tus, that  from  the  time  of  Eolus,  the 
Chronicles  ^ere  written  by  the  Ard- 
Olam  of  the  Irish  nation,  till  the  days 
£te-£r-Ial,  chief  king  in  Er-i,  678 
years  before  Chi-ist:  and  that,  from 
the  reign  of  Ete-Er-Ial,  thev  have 
been  compiled  by  every  Ard-Olam  of 
Ulla'd,  and  subniltted  to  the  kings, 
princes,  nobles,  and  chiefs  of  uie 
Olam,  or  heads  of  the  people  assem- 
bled on  the  Mount  of  Uila'd  once 
every  third  year,  to  transact  the  busi- 
ness of  the  kingdom.  It  is  therefore 
asserted,  that  in  these  Chronicles  is  to 
be  found  the  authentic  history  of  Ire- 
land from  the  year  1806,  before  the 
(Christian  aera,  to  the  birth  of  Christ ; 
and  that  the  writings  hitherto  imposed 
on  the  world  as  histories  of  Ireland, 
are  compilations  from  the  rhapsodies 
of  bards,  full  of  anochronisms  and 
misrepresentations  of  facts — the  con- 
temptible poetry  of  history  pieced  to- 
gether by  ignorant  men. 

These  Cnronicles  Tsays  the  Editor) 
describe  the  mode  of  Reepine  time  by 
our  forefathers,  and  their  luni-solar 
system.  They  correct  errors  respect- 
ing the  language  and  religion  of  the 
Irish,  and  cTeany  show  the  former  to 
be  Phoenician,  the  latter  not  Druidic. 
They  correspond  exactly  with  the  tra- 
ditions of  the  Hebrews  concerning  the 
overthrow  of  the  Scythian  dominion 
in  Asia,  and  the  establishment  of  £is* 


oir  (the  Assyrian)  on  their  kuw^  « 
they  reo^d  the  building  of  Babylon 
and  Nineveh.  They  represent  Moah, 
Japheth,  and  Gog,  in  new  characters, 
and  explain  the  passage  of  Genesis, 
which  says,  ^that  the  beginning  of 
the  kingdom  was  Babel,  &c.  in  the 
land  of  Shenar ;  out  of  that  land  wem 
forth  Asher,  and  builded  Nineveh." 
/The  Chronicles  strip  the  events  of  the 
figurative  dress  in  which  the  Hebrew 
has  decked  them;  whilst  th^  give 
the  true  original  names  of  the  GsuageSy 
Tygris,  Euphrates,  Euxine,  Caspian, 
Caucasus,  Armenia,  Coldus,  Iberia, 
Albania,  Phoenicia,  Ervpt,  and  Spain; 
and  of  ail  pla49M  in  Galida*  They 
also  describe  the  commerce  of  the 
Phoenicians  with  the  southern  parts  of 
Britain,  and  mark  the  period  when 
the  isles  of  Sicily  were  separated  from 
the  main  land.  They  confirm  the  ac- 
curacy of  the  traditions  of  the  Hebrews 
as  to  the  cdonization  of  the  isles  of 
the  Gentiles  by  the  posterity  of  Ja- 
pheth; and  they  set  at  rest  other  im- 
portant and  curious  matters,  too  nu- 
merous for  brief  anticipation. 

The  Editor  states  that  he  relies  witb 
confidence  on  the  fidelity  of  his  m»tr 
riab;   and  deeming  them  authea* 
records,  he  has  not  stepped  out  of^ 
way  into  the  paths  of  controve^. 
but  that,  when  this  curious  pieci^f 
antiquity  is  attacked,  he  will  not  (^ 
cline  the  combat  with  all  who  are  ii 
ciined  to  enter  the  lists  of  literary  war- 
fare.   The  work  will  be  illustrated 
with  maps  and  other  engravings. 

Freeman^9  Jowmai* 


SKETCHES  OF  HISTORY. 

The  following  anecdote  of  Colonel 
Wm.  Washington,  b  extracted  froai 
the  Life  of  General  Greene,  lately 
published  by  Dr.  Caldwell. 

^  Having;  learnt,  during  the  scour- 
ing excursion,  that  a  large  party  ol 
Royalists,  commanded  by  Colonel 
Rudgley,  was  posted  at  Rudgley'a 
mills,  twelve  miles  from  Campdeo^ 
(S.  C.)  he  determined  on  atucking 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


^81 


A01ICVLTI71AJL. 


Approacfaji^  the  enemy,  he 
foMod  them  to  secuml,  in  a  laige  log 
harOySarrotHided  by  abbattis,  as  to  be 
perfectly  safe  from  the  operations 
of  cavalry.  Foriudden,  thus,  to  at- 
templ  his  object  by  direct  attack,  his 
mmxal  and  favourite  mode  of  warfare, 
lie  determined  for  once,  to  have  re- 
ooarae  to  policy.  Shaping,  therefore 
a  pkfte  log,  in  imitation  of  a  field  piece, 
■Boontrng  it  on  wheels,  and  staining  it 
with  modj  to  make  it  look  like  iron, 
lie  brought  it  up  in  military  style,  and 
afleded  to  make  arrangements  to  bat- 
ter down  the  bam.  Mot  prepared  to 
gfiiil  artillery,  Colonel  Rudgley  obey- 
ed the  summons ;  and  with  a  garrison 
ol'oae  hundred  and  three,  rank  and 
lile,  surrendered  at  discretion." 

Queen  Emma,  mother  of  Edward 
tbe  Confessor,  being  slandered  with  a 
report  of  an  unchaste  familiarity  with 
Alwyn^  Bishop  of  Winchester,  her  son 
giving  credit  to  it,  dispossessed  her  of 
all  b^  goods,  and,  for  her  purgation, 
ardered  she  should  pass  the  fire-ordeal, 
ariudi  was  to  be  performed  in  this 
anaimer.  Nine  plowshares,  red  fire 
hoc,  were  laid  in  unequal  distances, 
aver  which  she  must  pass  barefoot  and 
Miodlbld,  and  if  she  passed  over  them 
wrnhnrt,  then  she  was  pronounced  in- 
ncMseat,  if  otherwise,  guilty.  This  tri- 
al she  underwent,  and  came  off  un- 
toocfaed,  to  the  great  astonishment  of 
all  tbe  fpectators ;  in  rememberance 
irliereof,  she  gave  nine  manors  to  the 
minister  at  Winchester;  and  king 
£dward,  to  commute  for  the  injury  he 
bad  d€>oe  her,  gave  to  the  same  cathe- 
dral church  the  island  of  Portland  and 
I>Qraetahire.— ifi»^.  Eng. 

Terpander,  the  famous  harper  of 
Spsrta,  as  he  was  singing  to  that  in- 
jtroment,  opened  his  mouth  so  wide  in 
straioiiig  bis  voice  to  the  pitch  of  the 
faarp,  that  an  unhappy  wag  standing 
by^  threw  a  fig  into  his  mouth,  in  pure 
Jest  and  merriment,  which,  contrary 
to  tbe  intention  of  him  that  threw  it, 
9Q  fast  in  bis  throat  that  he  was 


strangled  by  it  before  any  help  coold 
be  had  to  draw  it  out 

Schenck.  Ob$. 

When  Antipater  had  written  long 
letters  of  complaint  to  Alexander  the 
Great  against  his  mother  Olympias, 
Alexander  said,  ^  The  duty  of  a  son 
b  not  to  be  cancelled  by  the  testy  hu- 
mour of  a  mother :  nor  does  Antipa- 
ter know,  that  one  tear  falling  from 
my  mother's  eye,  is  able  to  deface  sis 
hundred  of  his  best  composed  epis- 


AGRICULTURAL. 


The  following  extract  is  from  an 
address  delivered  before  the  Massa- 
chusetts Agricultural  Society,  at  a  re- 
cent cattle  show  in  Brighton,  by  the 
honoOrable  Josiah  Quinct,  an  expe- 
rienced and  scientific  farmer.  It  con- 
tains many  valuable  hints,  besides 
much  good  humoured'satire,  intended 
more  particularly  to  lash  the  foibles  of 
the  farmers  of  Massachusetts ;  but 
may  with  propriety  be  applied  to 
those  of  any  other  part  of  the  United 
States.  Our  agricultural  readers  will 
undoubtedly  peruse  it  with  much  sat- 
isfaction. 

*'  Our  purpose,  this  day,  is  to  seek 
what  is  true  and  what  is  useful  in  re- 
lation to  the  interests  of  our  agricul- 
ture. 

**  In  executing  this  purpose,  I  shall 
address  myself  chiefly  to  that  great 
body  of  our  countrymen  who  are  era* 
phatically  called — farmers ;  by  which 
I  mean  the  great  body  of  Massachs- 
setts  yeomanry ;  men  who  stand  upon 
the  soil,  and  are  identified  with  it ;  for 
there  rest  their  own  hopes,  and  there 
the  hopes  of  their  children.  Men  who 
have,  for  the  most  part,  great  farms 
and  small  pecuniary  resources;  meo, 
who  are  esteemed  more  for  their  land 
than  for  their  money  ;  more  for  theic 
good  sense  than  for  their  land ;  and 
more  for  their  virtue  than  for  either; 
men,  who  are  the  chief  strength,  sup-. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


30 


"aoiucultural. 


port,  and  column  of  our  political  soci- 
ety, and  who  stand  to  the  other  orders 
of  the  state,  in  the  same  relation 
which  the  shaft  bears  to  the  pillar ; 
in  respect  of  whom,  all  other  arts, 
trades  and  professions,  are  but  orna- 
mental work;  the  comics,  the  frieze, 
and  the  Corinthian  capital. 

^^  I  am  thus  distinct  in  declaring  my 
sentiments  concerning  the  importance 
and  value  of  this  class  of  men,  from  no 
purpose  of  temporal  excitement,  or  of 
personal  conciuation;  but  because  I 
think  it  just,  and  their  due,  and  be- 
cause, being  about  to  hint  eonceming 
errors  and  defects  in  our  agriculture, 
I  am  anxious  that  such  a  course  of  re- 
mark should  not  be  attributed  to  any 
want  of  honour  or  respect  for  the 
farming  interest.  On  the  contrary,  it 
is  only  from  a  deep  sense  of  the  im- 
portance of  an  art,  that  a  strong  de- 
sire for  its  improvement  can  proceed. 
Whatever  tends  to  stimulate  and  di- 
rect the  industry  of  our  farmers ;  what- 
ever spreads  prosperity  over  our  fields  5 
whatever  carries  happiness  to  the 
homes,  and  content  to  the  bosoms  of 
our  yeomanry,  tends  more  than  every 
thing  else  to  lay  the  foundation  of  our 
republic  deep  and  strong,  and  to  give 
the  assurance  of  immortality  to  our 
liberties. 

"  The  errors  and  deficiencies  of  our 
practical  agriculture  may  be  referred, 
in  a  ^neral  survey,  with  sufficient  ac- 
curacy!*'to  two  sources;  the  want  of 
scope  of  view  among  our  farmers,  and 
the  want  of  system  in  their  plans. 

^  Concerning  another  want,  (of 
which  farmers  are  most  sensible,  and 
most  ^nerally  complain,  is  the  want 
of  cash  in  their  pockets,)  I  shall  say 
nothing,  because  it  is  not  a  want  pe- 
culiar to  the  fanner,  it  is  a  general 
want,  and  belongs  to  all  other  classes 
and  professions.  Besides,  there  is  no 
encouragement  to  speak  of  this  want, 
because  it  is  one  that  increases  by  its 
▼ery  supply.  All  of  us  must  have  ob- 
terved,  that  it  has  almost  ever  hap- 
pened, with  however,  a  few  splendid 
exceptions,  that  the  more  a  man  has 


of  this  article  the  more  he  alwayi 
wants. 

"  The  errors  and  deficiencies  to 
which  I  shall  allude,  will  not  be  such 
as  require  any  extent  of  capital  to  rec- 
tify. All  that  will  be  requisite  is  a  lit- 
tle more  of  that  industry,  a  little  dif- 
ferentlv  directed.  It  is  not  by  great 
and  splendid  particular  improvements, 
that  the  interests  of  agricultnre  are 
best  subserved,  but  by  a  generd  and 
gradual  amelioration.  Most  is  done 
for  agriculture,  when  every  farmer  is 
excited  to  small  attentions,  and  iact* 
dental  improvements;  such  as  pro- 
ceed, for  instance,  from  the  constant 
application  of  a  few  plain  and  commott 
principles.  Such  are — that,  in  fann* 
ing,  nothing  should  be  lost,  and  noth* 
ing  should  be  neglected;  that  every 
thing  should  be  done  in  its  proper 
time;  every  thing  put  in  its  proper 
place;  every  thing  executed  by  its 
proper  instrument.  These  attentionsy 
when  viewed  in  their  individual  efiect, 
seem  small,  but  they  are  immense  in 
the  aggregate.  When  they  become 
general,  tsd^en  in  connection  with  the 
disposition  which  precede,  and  the 
consequences  which  inevifably^follow 
such  a  state  of  improvement,  they  in«- 
elude,  in  fact,  every  thing. 

^^  Scope  of  view,  in  a  general  seas^^ 
has  relation  to  the  wise  adoption  of 
means  to  their  final  ends.  When  ap* 
plied  to  a  farmer,  it  implies  the  adapt* 
ation  of  all  the  buildings  and  parts  of 
a  farm  to  their  appropriate  purposea, 
so  that  whatever  is  Axed  and  perma- 
nent in  its  character,  may  be  so  ar- 
ranged as  best  to  facilitate  the  labour 
of  the  farm,  and  best  to  subserve  tlie 
comfort,  convenience,  and  success  of 
the  proprietor. 

^^  Our  ideas  upon  this  subject  may 
be  best  collected  firom  inspection.  lit 
our  fellow  farmers  please,  we  will^ 
therefore,  in  imagination  adjourn  for 
a  few  moments,  and  take  oar  staody 
first,  at  the  door  of  die  faFm-hooae. 
I  say  ^  at  the  door."  Far  be  it  from 
me  to  criticise  the  department  of  the 
other  seX;>or  t9  SD^geat  that  any  things 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


A0UCULTUKAL. 


31 


pecntiarly  sobjeci  to  Ibeir  manage- 
meot,  can  be  either  ameliorated  or 
amended.  Nor  is  it  necessary,  for  I 
b^eve  It  IS  a  fact  almost  universally 
true,  that  where  the  good  man  of  the 
^Eunily  is  extremely  precise,  and  regu- 
lar, and  orderly  in  his  arrangements 
vithout  doors,  he  never  foils  to  he  se- 
conded, and  even  surpassed,  by  the 
order,  the  regularity,  and  neatness  of 
the  good  woman  within. 

^  het  us  cast  our  eyesy  then,  about 
as,  from  the  door  of  the  farm-house, 
What  do  we  see  ?  Is  the  gate  whole, 
and  on  its  binges  ?  Are  the  domestic 
aaimals  excluded  from  immediate  con- 
eecdoD  with  the  dwelling  house,  or  at 
least  from  the  front  yard  ?  Is  there 
a  graMp^plot  adjoining,  well  protected 
firoiB  pigs  and  poultry,  so  that  the  ex- 
ceUeot  housewife  may  advantageously 
sfvead  and  bleach  the  linen  aiul  yarn 
oif  the  ^unily  ?  Is  the  wood  pile  well 
located,  so  as  not  to  interfere  with  the 
patBfngcr ;  or  is  it  located  with  espe- 
cial eye  to  the  benefit  of  the  neighboiir- 
iag  smgeoo  ?  Is  it  covered,  so  that  its 
work  may  be  done  in  stormy  weather  ? 
Is  the  wdl  convenient,  and  b  it  shel- 
tered, so  that  the  females  of  the  family 
m^  obftais  water  without  exposure, 
at  all  times  and  at  all  seasons  ?  Do  the 
sttbsi<fiary  arran|ements  indicate  such 
cootrivaBce  and  management,  as  that 
aoChing  useful  should   be  lost,  and 

it  is 
barn 
spta- 
(and 
iway 
it  is 
gen- 
8rva- 
The 
tten- 
nfort 
Ev- 
that 
inda- 
as  of 
1  our 


ricaded  by  a  mingled  mass  of  clups 
and  dirt ;  if  the  pathway  to  it  be  an 
unlaid  pavement  of  bones  and  broken 
bottles,  the  relics  of  departed  earthen 
ware,  pr  the  fragments  of  abandoned 
domestic  utensils ;  if  the  deposits  of 
the  sink  settle  and  stagnate  under  the 
windows,  and  it  is  neither  determined 
to  the  bam  yard,  nor  has  any  thing 
provided  to  absorb  its  riches,  and  to 
neutralize  its  effluvia :  if  the  nettle,  the 
thistle,  the  milkweed,  the  elder,  the 
barberry  bush,  the  Roman  wormwood, 
the  bur-dock,  and  the  devil's  apple, 
contend  for  mastery  aloi^  the  fences, 
or  flower  up  hi  every  comer ;  if  the 
domestic  animals  have  fair  play  roond 
the  mansion,  and  the  poultry  are  roost- 
ing on  the  window  stools,  the  geese 
strutting  sentry  at  the  front  door,  and 
the  pigs  playing  puppy  in  the  entry ; 
the  proprietor  of  such  an  abode  may 
call  himself  a  farmer,  but,  practically 
speaking,  he  is  ignorant  of  the  A  B  U 
of  his  art ;  for  the  first  letters  of  a 
farmer's  alphabet,  are  neatness,  com- 
fort, order. 

THE  ART  OF  MAKING  AND  BOT- 
TLING CIDER. 
Fnm  the  Jknerican  Fanner. 

Mr.  Skinner,  a  glass  of  good  cider, 
now  sparkling  before  me,  brings  to  my 
mind  your  request,  to  be  informed  of 
the  best  method  to  bottle  cider.  I 
have  had  the  satisfaction  to  fuiuish 
my  table  for  eighteen  years  with  that 
article,  without  any  material  interrup- 
tion, having  some  always  of  two  years 
bottling  on  hand. 

It  would  be  needless  to  detail  all 
the  experiments  I  made  to  save  my 
bottles;  however,  I  will  relate  two 
that  were  very  promising,  which  will 
show  that  nothing  less  than  raising  the 
proof  of  the  cider  will  answer. 

Experiment  1.  I  bottled  ctder  of 
fine  quality  in  Febraary,  with  the  best 
of  corks,  and  removed  it  to  the  cellar ; 
after  the  bottles  were  filled,  they  were 
placed  in  tubs  of  warm  water,  and 
raised  to  fall  summer  heat,  and  then 
corked* 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


X 


AOBICULTURAL. 


Esq9erimeit§%  Considering  that 
KDod  corks  woirid  begin  to  stop  tlie 
air  in  the  neck  of  the  bottle,  before 
they  were  half  driven  in,  and  that  a 
portion  of  air  would  be  condensed, 
and  therefore  greatly  endanger  the 
bottles,  when  the  temperature  was  in- 
creased, I  procured  perforated  corks, 
and  stopped  the  perforations,  after 
they  were  driven  in,  with  pegs,  and 
sealed  all  over. 

Neither  of  these  probable  experi- 
ments were  efiectual :  every  hot  day 
was  announced  by  an  explosion  in  the 
cellar.  Giving  over  every  stratagem, 
that  had  not  an  iaiteration  of  the 
liquor  in  view,  it  occurred  to  roe  that 
wines  did  not  burst  their  bottles,  and 
that  cider  was  only  a  low  wine,  and 
also  recollecting  that  small  beer  was 
both  the  weakest  and  most  violently 
fermentative  of  all  common  drinks,  I 
resolved  to  raise  the  proof  of  my  ci- 
der, by  the  addition  of  two  tea-spoons 
of  French  brandy  to  each  bottle ;  since 
which  I  have  had  no  more  explosions 
nor  broken  bottles,  and  the  cider  is 
improved  by  the  addition.  Plumbs 
or  noney,  so  much  used,  must  have 
the  same  efibct,  i.  e.  to  raise  the  proof; 
for  it  is  only  necessary  to  add  a  larger 
quantity  of  either,  to  make  cider  into 
good  wine  that  will  flash  in  the  fire. 
My  method  is  to  get  cider  made  late 
in  October  or  in  November,  from  red- 
streaks,  cataltns,  or  maiden's  blush. 
In  December  T  put  half  an  ounce  of 
isinglass  to  each  SO  gallons,  and  bot- 
tle it  in  February.  If  the  isinglass  is 
put  in  later,  it  will  deposit  some  a^- 
ment  iu  the  bottles.  It  is  to  be  dissolv- 
ed, by  chipping  it  into  fine  pieces  and 
placing  it  in  a  covered  mug  with  a 
quart  of  cider,  for  ten  hours  or  more, 
ia  a  very  warm  ashes  heat,  about  as 
much  as  we  use  to  draw  tea ;  a  little 
scalding  to  the  corks,  at  the  moment 
they  are  to  be  used,  will  soften  them, 
so  that  they  will  fit  better  and  be  more 
readily  driven  in. 

But  it  would  be  needless  to  expect 
cider  to  be  made  good  by  bottling,  it 
must  be  pure  and  well-flavoured  whilst 


in  the  cask ;  and  tharefore  the  subject 
necessarily  involves  the  cider  making, 
on  which  you  have  many  excellent 
papers.  From  what  I  understand  of 
the  making  of  cider,  it  appears  that  tlie 
later  the  apples  hang  on  the  trees,  the 
more  powerful  will  be  the  cider ;  hence 
the  cider  of  France  and  other  tempe- 
rate countries,  is  said  to  be  more  pow- 
erful than  ours :  our  summer  apples, 
therefore,  would  not  make  good  cider 
for  bottling,  because  of  their  quickly 
arriving  at  perfection. 

The  cleaning  of  the  liquor  from  the 
pumice  is  the  main  thing,  when  good 
sound  late  apples  are  used.    It  ap- 
pears that  cider  made  from  sweet  ap- 
ples is  much  more  apt  to  abound  with 
pumice,  whibt  the  acid  and  ascerb  re- 
tain their  puroioein  the  press ^hence 
some  very  bad  eating  apples  make 
excellent  cider.     The  attenton  to  this 
subject,  i.  e.  the  defalcation,  is  all  im- 
portant, especially  the  first,  if  well  ti- 
med and  p^mplete,  the  Aiture  fermen* 
tations  will  be  moderate  and  the  rack^ 
ing  efiectual.     Blankets    have  been 
used  with  success  to  get  off  much  of 
the  pumice ;  they  should  be  spread  on 
the  bottom  of  a  flat  basket,  and  that 
placed  on  the  head  of  the  cask*     All 
strainers  will  require  often  washing 
out,  and  therefore  two  or  three  are 
necessary,  all  of  which  may  be  noade 
from  one  stout  blanket.     But  I  am 
satisfied  that  a  few  hair  sieves  of  dif- 
ferent fineness,  with  the  coarsest  up 
permost,  placed  under  the  run^  woull 
separate  quantities  of  pumice  ^  thef] 
would  also  require  shiftily  with  a  s€ 
cond  set,  and  constant  Attendance  t 
wash  them  out ;  the  size  pf  grain  sifVei 
would  answer ;  after  these  the  blanks 
strainer  would  render  the    cider 
pure,  that  the  fermentation  W€>u1d 
gently  and  easily  managed,  so  that  tl 
first  racking  and  the  isinglass  woul 
finish  the  fining. 

Your's,        SYLVANUS. 

P.  S.  Some  persons  are  very  mtns 
pleased  to  see  cider  rush  out  of  tl 
bottles  like  small  beer,  they  think 


HXSGSU^AiaMini. 


38 


they  will  find  their  nbtake,  and,  like 
mCy  be  better  pleased  to  see  a  kittd  of 
sparkling  fervour^  like  tke  wine  of  Sol- 
onioo,  ^  that  moveth  itself  aright.^' 

— ^i— — ^— — — — i— a— 

MISCELLANEOUS. 

THE  YOUTHFUL  SOUTARY. 

TO  THE  FjJJR  SEX. 
I.adies, 

Your  nmnberless  charms  would,  in 
the  imagiDatioQ  of  a  youthful  soli- 
TAMT,  have  surpassed  the  beauties  of 
the  Spring  J  aad  the  blushing  Aurora  ; 
and  had  he  seen  them  in  his  tender 
jears,  he  would  have  preferred  them 
to  the  dazzling  splendour  of  tbe  skies, 
and  the  lovely  prospect  of  the  meads. 
And  indeed,  he  no  sooner  beheld  your 
ci»iin8^  but  he  felt  their  force.  You  far 
excelled  aU  other  objects,  and  they 
inuBmiiately  faded  in  hb  eye.    The 
flight  of  the  most  magnificent  palaces 
DO  kM^er  invited  his  curiosity.     In  a 
word,  he  discovered  infinite  more  lut* 
Sre  in  your  person,  than  in  the  jewels 
wUch  adcMm  a  crown.     He  had,  from 
his  iafency,  inhabited  the  woods  and 
g^rove%  where  die  wimged  choristers 
vere  Us  only  companions ;  whose  de-  J 
fightfel  harmony  used  sometimes  to 
cbeer  his  kmely  hours.    Their  inno- 
cent Bidody  was  his  only  delight,  not- 
wkhstanding  that  he  was  wholly  unac^ 
quainted  with  the  meaning  o(  their 
tttoeftal    language.       To    this   rural 
fldiool,  his  ^her  had  brought  him, 
SB  fa»  infancy  J  immediately  after  the 
death  of  his  mother ;  and  the  tender 
bafae  was  no  sooner  born,  than  he  re- 
Btaved  haa  far  from  the  sight  of  any 
human  creature;  and  for  many  years 
be  had  not  the  least  idea  that  there 
wcie  aoy  such  in  the  world ;  and  im- 
i^ned  that  there  were  no  other  crea- 
tar^i  than  the  tenants  of  the  forest  in 
which  be  dwelt  5  such  as  birds,  wolves, 
&e.  who  enjoy  only  a  sensitive  life, 
and  are  not  endued  with  any  of  the 
fslional  faculties. 

The  two  motives  wluch  prevailed 
i  bis  £alher  to  shun  all  human  com- 


■kerce,  were  the  foltowi%;  whicb> 
whether  they  were  weM  or  ill  founded, 
I  shall  not  take  upon  me  to  determine. 
Tbe  first  was  his  great  abhorrence  of 
mankind  in  genera),  and  the  second  his 
fear :  for  firom  tbe  time  his  dear  con* 
sort  had  left  the  world,  and  winged 
her  way  to  Heaven,  he  detested  the 
society  of  his  fellow  creatures.  When 
grown  weary  with  the  sighs  he  himself 
vented ;  with  the  continual  moan  and 
repining  of  all  those  with  whom  he 
met;  the  death  of  his  better  half 
made  him  both  hate,  as  well  as  fear 
tbe  rest  of  her  sex ;  so  that  he  resol* 
ved  to  turn  hermit,  and  to  bring  up 
his  little  son  in  the  same  way  of  life. 
Upon  this,  having  distributed  his 
wealth  among  the  indigent,  he  set  out 
alone,  and  unaccompanied,  except  by 
his  infant  son,  whom  he  carried  in  his 
arms,  and  striking  down  in  a  lonely 
forest,  be  stopt  in  the  most  solitary 
part  oif  it.  Here  our  hermit  studiously 
coDceab  a  thousand  particulars  from 
the  child;  not  from  a  severity  or 
gk)ominess  of  temper,  but  piety ;  he 
takes  the  utmost  care  not  to  let  the 
least  word  drop,  from  him,  which 
might  inumate  that  there  were  any 
such  creatures  in  the  world  as  women  ; 
or  such  things  as  desires  or  passions, 
particularly  that  of  loi^.  Having  at- 
tained  his  fifth  year,  he  taught  him  the 
names  of  flowers  and  animab ;  and 
talked  to  him  about  the  little  birds 
they  heard  and  saw. 

Being  now  ten  .years  of  age,  he  re- 
vealed to  him  some  few  particulars 
relating  to  the  other  world ;  but  not  a 
word  about  woman;  at  fifteen,  he 
taught  him  every  thing  his  mind  was 
susceptible  of,  but  still  forbore  to  men- 
tion the  most  lovely  part  of  creation. 
Being  arrived  at  the  age  of  twenty, 
our  old  hermit  began  thus  to  argue 
with  himself.  What  will  my  poor 
boy  do  when  I  am  dead;  how  will  it 
be  possible  for  him  to  subsist; 'being 
totally  unacquainted  with  the  world  ? 
After  a  thousand  resolves  and  recan- 
tations, the  old  roan  finally  determined 
to  carry  him  to  a  neighbouring  city, 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC  v 


M 


BII8WLLAKBOU8. 


whicli  was  inagiii$ceDt,and  where  the 
king  kept  his  court;  however,  tears 
gushed  from  his  eyes^  when  he  consid- 
ered the  temptations  to  which  the  lad 
would  be  exposed. 

Being  arrived  at   the  city,   our 
young  anchoret,  our  harmless  and  in- 
nocent youth,  in  amaze,  like  one  who 
had  dropt  from  the  clouds,  cries  out, 
what  do  you  call  that  thing  there  ?  A 
courtier,  tepljes    the    father.      And 
those  out  yonder  ?  Palaces  my  dear. 
These  here?  Statues.     He  was  ga- 
zing on  these  several  objects,  when 
some  beautiful  ladies,  with  piercing 
eyes,  and  roost  bewitching  matures, 
made  their  appearance  before  him; 
and  they  alone,  instantaneously,  drew 
all  his  attention ;  bewildered  in  the 
pleasing  perplexity  of  the  first  impres- 
sion of  innocent  love  on  his  heart,  he 
regards  no  longer  the  palaces,  and 
the  other  objects  he  but  the  moment 
before  admired ;  but,  luckless  youth  ! 
is  seized  with  another   kind   of  as- 
tonishment, for,  all  in  raptures   and 
ecstacy  at  the  enchanting  sight,  he 
cries  out,  with  a  palpitating  heart. 
What  b  that  sweet  thing,  so  prettily 
dressed,  pray  dear  father  tell  me,  how 
is  it  calleid  ?  The  good  old  man,  who 
did  not  in  the  least  relish  his  question, 
answers,  child,  it  is  a  bird,  called  a 
goose.   Sweet  pretty  bird,  cries  die  in- 
nocent youth,  in  the  utmost  transport, 
pray  thee  sing  a  little ;  let  me  hear 
some  of  thy  music :  O,  that  I  could 
get  acquainted  with  thee !  Dear,  dear, 
father,  f  entreat  you,  if  you  love  me, 
to  let  me  take  that  sweet  pretty  bird 
with  me  into  the  forest.   I  myself  will 
take  care  to  feed  it. 

La  Fontainb. 


FIRST  QUAKER. 

An  old  American  savage,  being  at 
an  inn  at  New- York,  met  with  a  gen- 
tleman who  gave  him  some  liquor, 
and  being  rather  lively,  he  began  to 
boast  that  he  could  read  and  write 
English.  The  gentleman,  willing  to 
indulge  him  in  displaying  his  knowl^ 


edge,  begged  leave  to  propose  a  ques- 
tion, to  which  the  old  man  consented. 
He  was  then  asked  who  was  the  first 
circumcised.  The  Indian  immediately 
replied,  father  Abraham :  and  directly 
asked  the  gentleman,  who  was  the  first 
Quaker.  He  said  it  was  very  uncertain, 
as  that  people  difibred  in  their  senti- 
ments exceedingly.  The  Indian,  per- 
ceiving the  gentleman  unable  to  resolve 
the  question,  put  his  fingers  into  his 
mouth,  to  express  his  surprise,  and  told 
him  Mordecai  was  the  first  Quaker, 
for  he  would  not  pull  off  his  hat  to 
Haman. 

The  following  beautiful  and  com- 
prehensive lines  were  copied  from  the 
side  of  a  common  Liverpool  pitcher, 
into  the  Philadelphia  Union. 

WASHINGTON, 

The  defender  of  his  Country,  the  foun- 
der of  Liberty, 
The  friend  of  Man. 
History  and  tradition  are  explm^  m 
vain  for  a  parallel  to  his  chara^ 
ter.    In  the  annals  of  mod- 
em greatness  he  stands 
alone; 
And  the  noblest  names  of  anti<]piity 

lose  their  lustre  in  his  presence. 

Bom  the  benefactor  of  mankind,  he 

united  all  the  qualities  necessary 

to  an  illustrious  career. 

Nature  made  him  great:  He  made 

himself  virtuous. 

Called  by  his  Country  to  the  defence 

of  her  Liberties,  he  triumphantly 

vindicated  the  rights  of  hu- 

■lanity; 

And  on  pillars  of  National  Ind^)en. 
dence  laid  the  foundation  of  a 
great  Republic. 
Twice  invested  with  supreme  magis. 
tracy,  by  the  voice  of  a  free  peo- 
ple, 

He  surpassed  in  the  cabinet  the  glcu-ies 
of  the  field ; 

And  voluntarily  resigning  the  sceptre 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


msCBLLANlOVS. 


S5 


and  the  sword,  retired  to  the 
shades  of  private  life. 
A  spectacle  so  new  and  so  sublime, 
Was  contemplated  with  the  most  pro- 
found admiration ; 
And  the  name  of  Washinoton, 
Adding  new  lustre  to  humanity,  re- 
soanded  to  the  remotest  r^ons  of 
the  Earth. 

Magnanimous  in  youth,  glorious 
through  Life, 
Great  in  Death. 
His  highest  ambition  the  happiness  of 
Mankind. 
His  noblest  victory  the  conquest 
of  himself. 
Be^Kathifig  to  posterity  the  inherit- 
ance of  hb  fame ; 
And  building  his  monument  in  the 
hearts  of  hb  countrymen ; 
He  lived. 
The  ornament  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury: 
He  died, 
Regretted  by  a  mourning  world* 

CHARITY^A  FRAGMENT. 
By  Arthur  Otrefif  Etq, 

^  Harrass  me  no  more  with  thy 
cant  and  hypocrisy,  1  have  no  money 
lor  audi  a  filthy  vagabond  as  thou  art/' 
ssid  I9  still  approaching  the  door. 
TThe  hoary  mendicant  hung  hb  head, 
and  with  his  trembling  hand  wiped 
mmuj  the  tears  which  stole  down  hb 
pale,  thsugh  venerable  cheeks,  whilst 
Icould  £untly  hear  him  repeat,  ^^  filthy 
wagabond  as  thou  art.^'  The  repeti* 
tiofi^  his  age,  hb  attitude,  and  his  weep- 
mgy  touted  me ;  most  sensibly  touch- 
ed me.  He  made  a  nearer  approach, 
and,  after  a  few  struggles,  ventured  to 
locik  me  in  the  face.  I  was  hastening 
to  my  pocket,  when  that  demon,  suspi- 
ciooy  still  whiqiered  me  he  was  an  im- 

etor.  I  eyed  him  with  sternness, 
I  saw  that  I  had  gone  too  far,  that 
■ly  scowl  had  entrenched  hb  soul }  he 
eooid  no  longer  bear  it,  and  in  a  mo- 
mtoat  focgetttng  IMa  suppUcatioBi  he 


energetically  exclaimed,  ^  Though,  sir, 
I  may  be  poor,  I  am  still  honest ; 
though  I  am  a  beggar,  I  have  still  feel- 
ings ;  and  though  you  may  esteem  me 
an  object  unworthy  of  your  charity, 
why  thus  cruelly  wound  me  with  your 
frowns  ?"  The  fellow's  eloquence  came 
home  with  full  power  to  ray  heart :  he 
struck  the  master-string  of  my  nature. 
I  turned  my  back  upon  him  (for  1  had 
not  courage  to  meet  the  indignant  glan- 
ces of  my  tattered,  though  sentimental 
accuser)  to  get  my  purse  to  reward 
his  independent  spirit  and  pathetic 
appeal,  when  regahiing  ray  situation, 
I  found  that  he  had  left  me.  My 
heart  was  harrowed  to  the  very  quick. 
Oh !  how  poignantly  did  I  lament  my 
folly  and  barbarity,  as  I  had  lost  (per- 
haps for  ever)  the  blissful  opportunity 
of  asking  forgiveness  from  one,  whom 
I  had  thus  insulted,  of  pouring  my  lit- 
tle all  into  the  lap  of  a  man  of  such 
sensibility,  such  intelligence,  and  such 
distress ;  but,  says  prudence,  '^  curse 
prudence,''  replied  I ;  **  I  have  here 
sacrificed  a  more  ecstatic  pleasure 
than  a  whole  life  spent  in  conformity 
to  the  dictates  of  cold-hearted  pru- 
dence and  ungenerous  apathy,  can 
possibly  bestow." 

SOLEMN  REFLECTION. 

How  futile  are  all  our  efibrts  to 
evade  the  obliterating  hand  of  time ! 
As  I  traversed  the  dreary  wastes  of 
Egypt,  on  my  journey  to  Grand  Cai- 
ro, 1  stopped  my  camel  for  a  while, 
and  contemplated  in  awfbl  admiration, 
the  stupendous  pyramids.  An  appal- 
ling silence  prevailed  around :  such  as 
reigns  in  the  wilderness  when  the  tem- 
pest is  hushed,  and  the  beasts  of  prey 
have  retired  to  their  dens.  Tlie  myr- 
iads that  had  once  been  employed  in 
rearing  these  lofty  mementos  of  hu- 
man vanity,  whose  busy  hum  once 
enlivened  the  solitude  of  the  desert, 
had  all  been  swept  from  the  earth  by 
the  irresistible ,  arm  of  death  ;  all 
were  mingled  with  their  native  dust : 
all  were  fofgottta.    Even  the  mighty 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


$6 


HI9CXLtANEOU9. 


names  which  these  sepulchres  were 
designed  to  perpetuate,  had  long  since 
faded  from  remcmlwrancc ;  history  and 
tradition  afford  but  vague  conjcctui-es, 
and  the  pyramids  imparted  a  humiila- 
tkig  lesson  to  the  candidate  for  immor- 
tality. Alas !  alas !  said  I  to  myself, 
how' mutable  are  the  foundations  on 
which  our  proudest  hopes  of  future 
fame  are  reposed.  He  who  imagiBes 
he  has  secured  to  himself  the  meed  of 
deathless  renown,  mdulges  in  deluded 
visions,  which  only  bespeak  the  vanity 
of  the  dreamer.  The  storied  obelisk, 
the  triumphal  arch,  the  swelling  dome, 
shall  crumble  into  dust,  and  the  names 
they  would  preserve  from  obUvion, 
shall  often  pass  away,  before  their 
own  duration  is  accomplished.'^ 


THE  METHODISTS. 

Mr.  Southey  has  just  published  the 
life  of  Wesley,  in  two  vohimes,  a 
work  of  a  very  deep  and  general  in- 
terest, likely  to  prevent  the  repug- 
nance which  many  feel  at  the  very 
word  Methodist.  In  their  original 
institution  nothing  more  was  designed 
than  that  thoy  slK)uld  be  strict  mem- 
bers of  the  church  of  England,  regular 
in  their  attendance,  and  methodical  in 
tlie  performance  of  all  their  dnties. 
Thence  arose  their  name  of  Metho- 
dists. In  the  progress  of  fime,  and 
under  new  pastors^  some  of  them  have 
greatly  deviated  from  the  fundamen- 
tal rdes  of  society,  and  new  sects 
bearing  the  same  name,  have  arisen. 
But  in  the  life  of  Wesley  there  is  much 
to  revere  and  to  venerate.  Whaf  is 
Mr.  Southey's  opinion,  may  be  col- 
lected from  the  fdlowing  extract  fix>m 
the  introduction  to  his  work. 

"  The  sect  or  society  as  they  would 
call  themselves,  of  Methodists,  has  ex- 
isted for  the  greater  part  of  a  century ; 
they  have  their  seminaries  and  their 
hierarchy,  their  own  regulations,  then: 
own  manners,  their  own  literature. 
In  Bngland  they  form  a  distinct  peo* 
^le,  an  impet'ium  in  imperio ;  they 


are  extending  widely  in  America ;  an4 
in  both  countries  they  nnmber  their 
annual  increase  by  thousands.  The 
history  of  their  founder  is  little  known 
in  his  native  land,  beyond  the  limits 
of  those  who  are  termed  the  reli^ouc 
public;  and  on  the  continent  it  is 
scarcely  known  at  all.  In  some  of 
the  biographers  the  heart  has  been 
wanting  to  understand  his  worth,  or 
the  will  to  do  it  justice :  others  have 
not  possessed  freedom  or  strength  of 
intellect  to  perceive  wherein  he  was 
erroneous. — Lon^  Cour. 


PHILOSOPHY  AND  CHRISnANITT., 

By  Dr,  JfoUt  President  of  Scheneciadg 
College. 

Philosophy  confines  its  views  to  this 
world  principally.     It  endeavours  to 
satisfy  man  with  the  grovelling  joys  6f 
earth  till  he  returns   to  that  earth 
from  which  he  was  taken.   Christian- 
ity  takes  a  nobler  flight.     Her  course 
is  directed    towards    immortality. — ■ 
Thither  she  conducts  her  votary,  and 
never  forsakes  him,  till,  having  intro- 
duced him  into  the  society  of  an- 
gels, she  fixes  his  eternal  residence 
among  the  spirits  of  the  just.    Philos- 
ophy can  only  heave  a  sigh,  a  \ong^ 
\iisr   sigh    after  immortality.     Eteiv 
nity  is  to  her  an  unknown  vast,  in 
which  she  soars  on  conjecture's  trem- 
bling wing.    Above,  beneath,  around, 
is  an  unfathomable  void ;  and  doubt, 
uncertainty,  or  despair,  are  the  reaiilt 
of  all  her  inquiries.     Christianity,  oit 
the  other  hand,  having  furnished  all 
necessary  information  concerning  life, 
with  firm  and  undaunted  step  crosses 
deatl^'s  narrow  isthmus,  and  boldljr 
launches  forth  into  that  dread  futurity 
which  borders  on  it.     Her  path  is 
marked  with  glory.     The  once  dark 
and  dreary  region  lightens  as  she  ap- 
proaches it,  and  benignly  smiles  as  she 
passes  over  it.     Faith  follows  wh^^r 
she  advances,  till  reaching  the  aum- 
mit  of  the  everlasting  hills,  an  un- 


§1 


TOSTieAt. 


sr 


lovdBiiess  and  beauty,  preicBts  Itself^ 
over  which  tbe  ravisfacxi  eye  wanders 
without  a  cloud  to  dim,  or  a  limit  to 
obstruct  its  sight  Id  the  midst  of  this 
aeene,  rendered  luminous  by  the  glory 
which  covers  it,  tbe  city,  the  pcdace, 
the  throne  q/'Gorf  appears.  Trees  of 
fife  wave  their  ambrosial  tops  around 
it :  rivers  of  salvatioB  issue  from  be- 
Be^h  it ;  before  it  angels  touch  their 
harps  of  living  melody,  and  saints  in 
sweet  response  breathe  forth  to  the 
Bsteoing  heavens  their  grateful  songs. 
The  breezes  of  paradise  waft  the  syrtH 
phony,  and  the  pending  sky  directs  it 
to  tbe  earth.  l*he  redeemed  of  the 
Lord  catch  the  distant  sound,  and  feel 
a  sadden  rapture.  Tis  the  voice  of 
departed  friendship-— friendship,  the 
lo^  of  which  they  mourned  upon  the 
earth,  but  which  they  are  now  assured 
wiH  be  restored  in  the  heavens,  from 
whence  a  voice  is  heard  to  say,  ^<  fear 
B0C5  death  cannot  injure  you;  the 
grave  cannot  conline  you ;  through  its 
chiU  iiiansi<»i,  grace  will  conduct  you 
.1^  to  glory.  We  wait  your  arrival ; 
haste^  therefore,  Come  away." 

Fob  Tnx  Masoitic  RiaisTsa. 

PROFANE  SWEARING. 

*<  Thou  shalt  not  take  the  Dame  of  tbe 
J^ord  thy  God  in  vain/' 

The  above  is  an  immediate  cpm* 
piand  from  God  himself,  and  is  sanc- 
Ciooed  by  the  laws  of  every  civilized 
eoaatry.  Yet,  alas!  in  violation  of 
lavs,  both  human  and  Divrae,  the 
vicknis  and  detestable  habit  of  profane 
swearing  has  become  common  in  al- 
Biost  every  rank  in  society.  Yes,  a 
habit  that  originated  among  the  in- 
mates of  a  broSiel,  has  been  copmd  by 
those  who  move  in  the  fashionable 
circles  of  life ;  and  is  countenanced  by 
maay  who  are  placed  in  responsible 
station,  and  whose  dnt^  requires  them 
to  suppress  ynce  and  immorality,  in 
whatever  place,  pr  in  whatever  shape 
it  may  appear.  For  any  one  to  con- 
tend that  tbe  interference  of  the  offi- 
q»s  of  justice^  to  suj^resa  this  grow- 


ing evil,  woidd  be  aseleas,  is  Ailly  in 
the  extreme ;  as  well  might  they  con- 
tend that  it  b  useless  for  the  city 
watch  to  perform  their  nocturnal  duty, 
or  that  a  hoard  of  heahh  should  take 
no  measures  to  check  a  contagious 
epidemic,  after  its  infection  had  once 
entered  a  city. 

Laws  are  enacted  for  the  benefit  of 
the  community  at  large;  and  no  hiw 
ought  to  remain  on  Uie  statute  book 
for  a  greater  lei^h  of  time,  than 
while  it  is  found  useful,  and  can  be 
strictly  enforced ;  and  it  is  a  duty  in- 
cumbent on  every  individual^  to  lend 
his  aid  in  support  of  the  laws  of  his 
country. 

Of  all  vices  of  the  present  age,  pro- 
fane swearing  must  be  acknowledged 
the  most  inexcusable,  as  not  the  least 
possible  advantage  can  be  derived 
from  it,  nor  can  it  contribute  in  the 
least  degree  to  a  single  pleasure. 
Nothing,  with  propriety,  can  be  ofier* 
ed  in  its  extenuation.  It  is  a  viola* 
tion  of  the  laws  of  decency  and  com* 
mon  politeness ;  it  originated,  as  was 
before  observed,  among  the  lowest 
dregs  of  society,  and  ot^ht  to  be  dis- 
countenanced by  every  gentlenaa 
having  a  desire  to  promote  the  good 
of  the  community. 

POETICAL.. 

J'  I  I     >l  ,|^   I      ■      ^ 

|\Ul  TBS   MaSOSXC  R1OI8TSR. 

J(PriMm»  on  thtfirtt  day  of  January  1 1820. 

The  fleeting  msnth*  tbe  roUisg  year, 

But  bean  as  to  our  dooD  ; 
Tbe  nights  advance,  the^days  appear, 

To  call  us  to  our  bome. 

The  Spring,  bedeok'd  with  opening  ftow'is  | 

Tbe  Summer's  eaudy  pride ; 
Tbe  richest  fruits  that  Aatumn  pours. 

In  all  ber  plenteous  tide : 

The  shivering  blast  of  Whiter's  wind. 

The  tempest,  hail,  and  snow. 
Are  lessons  to  the  attentive  mind, 

How  flastiag*!  all  below. 

Fix'd,  then,  on  realms  of  brighter  bliss. 

Let  all  oar  wishes  rise ; 
And,  while  we  dwell  in  worlds  like  this. 

Seek  those  beyond  tlie  skies. 

.  .  A.  BslIh 

Digitized  by  VjOOQ iC 


38 


rOSTICAl. 


For  thb  MAtontc  RtettrxR. 

ON  A  WATCH. 

Could  bat  our  tempen  move  like  this  ma- 

cliiaey 
Hot  urg'd  by  passion,  nor  delayed  by  spleen, 
And  we  by  faeaveh^s  regolating  power, 
By  virtuous  acts  distinguish  every  hour, 
ilea  health  and  joy  would  follow  as  they 

ought, 
Tlielaws  of  motion  and  the  rules  of  thought, 
Sweet  health  to  pass  the  present  moments 

o'er, 
Aod  everlasting  joy  when  time  shall  be  no 

more. 


For  thr  Masonic  Rroistir. 
ON  THE  DEATH  OF  AN  INFANT. 

Sweet,  short-liv'd  flow'r!  thy  opening  bud 
Is  borne  by  death's  cold  band  awav. 

Far,  far  beyond  time's  swelling  flood, 
Where  thou  shalt  bloom  without  decay. 

Here  life's  fierce  storms  around  us  roar, 
Or  sweep  eacl^  pleasure  from  the  breast, 

But  grief  and  anguish  now  no  more, 
Dwurb  thy  cdm  and  peaceful  rest 

Then  whilst  for  thee  our  tears  still  flow, 
This  pleasing  thought  our  hearts  shall  heal. 
That  Mfe  beyond  the  reach  of  woe, 
Thy  parents'  pains  thou  canst  not  feel. 


SELECTED. 


THE  FALLING  TOWER. 

Mark  ye  the  tower  whose  lonely  hallt 
Be-echo  to  yon  falling  stream  P 

Mark  ye  its  bare  and  crumbling  walls, 
Where  slowly  fades  the  sinUng  beam  f 

There  oft  "when  eve  in  sDent  trance, 

Hears  the  lorn  red-breast's  plaintive  moan; 
^me,  casting  round  a  eautious  glance, 
Heaves  from  its  base  some  mould'ring 
stone. 

There,  though  in  time's  departed  day. 
War  wav'd  his  glittering  banners  bi^_ 

Thoueh  many  a  minstrel  pour'd  the  lay 
And  many  a  beauty  tranc'd  the  eye ; 

Tet,  never,  'midst  the  gorgeous  scene, 
'Midst  the  proud  feasts  of  splendid  power, 

Shone  on  the  pile  a  beam  serene, 
So  mild  as  gilds  its  falling  hour. 

Oh !  thus,  when  life's  gay  scenes  shall  fade, 
And  pleasure  lose  its  wonted  bloom, 


When  creeping  age  shall  bare  my  htUt 
And  point  to  me  the  silent  tomb : 

Then  may  rd^^ionU  hallowed  flame» 
Shed  on  my  mind  its  mildest  ray ; 

And  bid  it  seek,  in  purer  frame, 
Oae  bright  eternity  of  day. 


TO  MIRA. 

Riches  can  many  a  joy  impart, 

Can  many  a  want  remove } 
But  cannot  buy  a  feeling  heart, 

Or  purchase  truth  and  love. 

Those  blessinss  of  celestial  birth, 

Descended  from  the  skies, 
Have  sought  a  residence  on  earth, 

And  fird  in  Mi  ka's  eyes : 

Where  Cupid  wrote,  with  plumes,  tis  sRid, 
Pluck'd  from  his  mother's  dove : 

«  Whoever  looks  upon  this  maid 
Shall  be  condemn'd  to  love." 

And  I,  an  inexperienc'd  youth. 

Unconscious  of  the  snare, 
Did  gaze,  and  saw  the  fatal  truth 

Too  plamly  written  there. 


THE  SIGH. 

%  a  young  lad^i  bom  hUni. 

If  thb  delicious,  grateful  flower, 
Which  blows  but  for  a  single  hour, 
Should  to  the  sight  as  lovely  be. 
As  from  its  fragrance  seems  to  me  ; 
A  sigh  must  then  its  colour  show. 
For  that's  the  softest  ioy  f  know. 
And  sure  the  rose  is  like  a  sigh. 
Bom  just  to  soothe,  and  then--to  die. 

My  father,  when  our  fortune  smil'd. 
With  jewels  deck'd  bis  eyeless  child : 
Their  glitterinff  worth  the  world  might  i 
But,  ah !  they  had  no  charms  for  me. 
Still  as  the  present  faird  to  charm, 
A  trickling  tear  bedew'd  my  arm ; 
And  sure  Die  gem  to  me  most  dear, 
Was  a  kind  father's  pitying  tear. 


WOMAN. 

Queifien 
Since  woman  first  deriv'd  their  form  from 

man. 
Pray  tell  me  why  they're  fairest  ?  if  you 

can. 

The  cause  of  this  is  easy  to  explore. 
They  only  u»  thegoM,  and  we  l^  ore. 

digitized  by  VLjOOQIC 


'81 


MOTTO. 

Fnm  Mr,  Ihnald  Prater's  Biographical 

SkttdieSf  now  mprtst. 

By  csodour  led,  our  various  page  displays 

Some  traits  of  those  who  lived  to  merit 

praise; 
To  virtaous  men  we  give  the  merit  due, 
True  to  themsehres i  and  to  their  coaotry 

true; 
To  fiviog  worth  we  give  what  merit  claims, 
Here  fell  their  deeds,  and  here  record  their 


Let  those  who  wish  aeain  to  act  as  well 
Beview  tbeirlives,  and  then  like  them  eicel. 


POLITICAL. 

Judging  from  the  present  aspect  of 
Eorupean  affairs^  and  the  policy  pur- 
sued by  most  of  the  legitimate  sove- 
te^Ds  of  that  sectioa  of  the  globe,  it 
iBQSt  naturally  be  concluded  that  the 
soil  of  that  continent  will  soon  be  again 
drenciied  in  blood,  and  the  scourge  of 
var  will  be  experienced,  perhaps  in  a 
•enfold  degree.  Great  discontent  ap- 
pemts  to  prevail  among  the  people  of 
Great  Britain,  France,  Portugal,  Italy, 
Gtfmany,  and  Prussia,;  and  there  are 
great  appearances  of  approaching  re- 
irdntion*  In  England  in  particular, 
the  ^  great  wheels  of  revolution/  have 
wolSkd  so  far,  that  we  believe  it  is  now 
even  beyond  the  power  of  the  '  strong 
arm  of  government'  to  avert  their  pro- 
Conspirators  no  longer  con- 
( themselves  to  daik  retreats,  bat 
a  daring  spirit,  stalk  forth,  as- 
j  the  officers  of  the  crown,  in 
day.  Executions  are  frequent, 
tbe  prisons  are  crowded,  and  trials  for 
aedition,  murder,  and  treason,  almost 
>  daily  engage  the  Attention  of  the  courts 
Aroag^wut  the  kmgdom. 

Tbe  late  arrival  of  the  queen,  after 
an  absence  of  about  fourteen  years, 
kas  excited  great  interest  among  all 
Taaka  of  people.  The  demonstrations 
of  joy  with  which  she  was  saluted  on 
ber  first  landing  at  Dover,  and  the 
k^  respect,  aiKi  affection  shown  to 
Imt  Bsa|e8ty  in  every  place  through 
frhich  she  passed,  from  Dover  to  Lon- 
doBy  as  well  as  tbe  enthusiastic  joy 
expressed  on  ker  arrival  at  that  lue- 


FOLITlCiX.  39 

trq)olis,  plaii^  evince,  that  her  ab- 
sence, instead  of  diminishing,  has  in- 
creased the  attachment  of  a  great  ma- 
jority of  the  people  to  her  person, 
notwithstanding  the  heavy  charged 
brought  against  her  character  by  the 
king;  which  are  no  less  than  ^  an  adul- 
terous  connection  with  a  foreigner, 
originally  in  her  service  in  a  menial 
capacity,'  and  a  continued  series  of 
conduct  highly  unbecoming  her  rank 
and  station,  during  her  residence  in 
various  parts  of  iLurope;  which  the 
king  and  his  party  expect  to  support 
by  the  testimony  of  a  number  of  for- 
eigners, already  arrived  in  London  to 
testify  against  her.  An  investigation 
b  to  take  place,  and  the  queen  appears 
to  rest  satisfied,  that  she  can  clearly 
prove  her  innocence,  and  show  the 
corruption  of  the  witnesses  against  her. 
It  is  stated  that  she  has  written  to 
nearly  one  hundred  persons,  many  of 
whom  are  of  the  first  respectability  in 
Italy,  to  repair  to  England,  to  give 
evidence  of  her  demeanour  while 
abroad.  The  Italians  who  have  ar- 
rived, are  said  to  be  of  the  lowest  or- 
der, and  that  they  have  been  suborned 
to  witness  against  her.  This  trial  ex- 
cites great  interest  throughout  the  na- 
tion, and  the  Queen's  party  is  daily 
gaining  strength.  What  will  be  the 
result,  and .  what  effect  it  may  have 
upon  the  political  world,  time  alone 
will  determine.  We  hazard  nothing, 
however,  in  saying,  that  should  her 
majesty's  expectation  be  realized  in 
proving  her  innocence,  tbe  reign  of 
George  IV.  will  be  of  short  duration. 

The  coronation,  which  was  to  have 
taken  place  on  the  first  of  August,  was 
indefinitely  postponed,  undoubtedly 
through  fear  of  the  indignation  and 
resentment  of  the  people. 

Spain,  which  previous  to  the  late 
revolution,  was  governed  by  the  iron 
hand  of  despotism,  both  in  church  and 
state,  appears  now  to  be  settled  down 
under  a  limited  monarchy,  the  people 
enjoying  equal  privileo^s  with  the 
monarch  himself.  B>  the  last  advi- 
ces, tbe  utmost  harmony  prevailed 


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40 


OBrrUAftV. 


throughcmt  the  kingd€>m ;  aod  the  ad- 
vocates of  oppression  uoder  the  for- 
mer govemmeot,  were  held  in  the 
most  sovereign  contempt.  On  the  9th 
of  July  lasty  die  king  took  the  oath  of 
the  constitution,  beA>re  the  represen- 
tatives of  the  nation;  splendid  illumi- 
nations took  place,  and  the  most  en- 
thusiastic joy  was  manifested  on  the 
occasion.  The  public  squares  of  Mad- 
rid were  crpwded  with  people  of  all 
ages  and  sexes,  congratulating  each 
other  on  the  happy  event.  The  mili- 
tary and  citizens  united  in  parading 
the  streets,  singing  patriotic  hymns, 
and  shouting,  '^  Long  live  our  consti- 
tutional king;"  ^Lotig  live  the  na- 
tion ;"  ^'  Long  live  the  constitution.'' 

The  South  American  colonies  still 
remain  in  an  unsettled  situation  as  it 
regards  their  government ;  but  the  re- 
establishment  of  the  Cortez,  or  Con- 
gress, In  the  mother  country,  will, 
roost  probably,  secure  to  them  the 
FMCEDOM  for  which  they  have  been 
^0  long  contending. 

The  empire  of  Russia,  at  the  pre- 
sent time  appears  to  be  in  a  more 
flourishing  situation  than  any  other 
European  power;  owing  to  the  extra- 
ordinary exertions  of  the  emperor  Al- 
exander, to  desseminate  the  light  of 
the  gospel,  and  other  useful  know- 
ledge among  his  subjects ;  to  promote 
improvements  in  agriculture,  and  va- 
rious other  useful  arts ;  and  his  con- 
stant attention  to  the  welfare  and  hap- 
piness of  the  people  of  his  widely 
extended  dominions. 


OBITUARY. 

'^  Lo!   soft  Tenumbranoe,  drops  a  feeling 

tear, 
'  And  sacrad  friendship  stands  a  mourner 

here." 

Died  suddenly,  at  his  residence  in 
Greenwich-street  in  this  city,  on  Fri- 
day morning  the  28th  of  July,  Mr. 
Benjamik  Franklin  Lewis,  late  of 
Newbargh,  in  the  county  of  Orange, 
aged  29  years.  He  was  past  master 
of  Hiram  lodge,  and  a  worthy  com- 


panion of  Jerusalem  Temple  cjiapter, 
in  that 'village. 

The  Newburgh  paper,  of  the  first 
of  'August,  after  mentioning  this  dis- 
tressing event,  says, 

^^  His  remains  were  brought  to  this 
place  on  Saturday;  and  his  funeral 
was  attended  in  the  afternoon  by  a 
numerous  assemblage  of  sympathising 
friends.  A  large  Masonic  procession 
conducted  the  deceased  to  the  place 
of  interment,  where  the  ceremonies  of 
the  order  were  performed  with  great 
solemnity.  Mr.  Lewis  was  a  gentle- 
man of  amiable  disposition,  concilia- 
ting ihanners,  and  unblemished  integ- 
rity: his  talents  were  improved  by  a 
liberal  education  and  much  reading, 
and  he  gave  undoubted  evidences  of 
future  usefulness  to  sodety*  To  his 
aged  and  venerable  parents  and  fami- 
ly connections,  his  loss  seems  almost 
irreparable,  and  an  extensive  circle  of 
friends  and  acquaintances,  will  long 
deplore  his  early  departure.'' 

The  editor  of  the  Ladies'  Literary 
Cabinet  closes  a  handsome  eulogy  on 
the  deceased,  as  follows : 

"On  the  evening  previous  to  this 
melancholy  event,  the  subject  of  these 
remarks  was  well  and  cheerful;  and 
the  last  exercise  of  his  talents  and  pea, 
but  an  hour  or  two  before  his  deaths 
was  a  short  essay  upon  Enthusiasn^ 
intended  for  the  Literary  Cabinet^ 
which  concluded  with  the  following 
i;^markable  words: — 

"In  the  end,  when  the  last  trial 
comes,  when  it  is  for  us,  in  our  turn  to 
meet  tlie  struggles  of  death,  enthusi* 
asm  will  not  abandon  us;  her  brilliant  « 
wings  shall  wave  oVer  our  funeral 
couch,  she  will  lift  the  veil  of  death , 
she  will  recall  to  our  recollection  thoae 
moments,  when,  in  the  fulness  of  ener- 
gy, we  felt  that  the  soul  was  imperish- 
able. And  our  last  sigh  shall  be  a 
high  and  generous  thought,  re-asceod- 
ing  to  that  Heaven  firom  which  it  ha4 
its  birth."   ) 

»        ■      '     -  -  TICK 

HOYT  &  30LM0RE,  PRINTERS. 
70  Boweiy,  New-T^rfc. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


tHE 


AMERICAN  MASONIC  REGISTER, 

AND 

Ladies'  and  Gentlemen's  Magazine* 


BY  LUTHER  PRATT. 


Thou  shalt  love  thy  neigbbonr  as  thyselC 

St.  Marx  xii,  81. 
He  that  loveth  his  brother  abideth  in  the  Fi^bt. 

St.  Jobn  the  Etahokliit. 


[>'o.  II.] 


FOR  OCTOBER,  A.  D.  1820.  A.  L.  5820. 


[Vol.  I.] 


MASONIC. 

C^fmpendium  of  the  Constitutions, 
Rhles,  and  Regulations  of  the 
stncieTU  and  honourable  fraternity 
cf  FiiEB  and  Accefted  Masons. 

lo  making  the  (bllowing  compila- 
tioa  we  have  had  recourse  to  the  mAst 
approved  records,  with  a  consciea- 
tious  regard  to  the  ancient  landmarks 
«f  our  order ;  which  it  would  be  pre- 
suiDptioo  to  remove,  or  deface.  For 
sake  of  brevity,  we  have  been  obliged 
to  vary  the  language,  but  in  no  instance 
have  we  deviated  from  the  true  sense 
and  meaning  of  the  authors  we  have 
consulted,  or  from  the  true  spirit  of 
Masonry. 

Om  THB  B£ClUf8ITE  QUALIFICATIONS 
OP  A   CANDIDATE. 

Every  candidate  for  admission  into 
tbe  fraternity  of  free  and  accepted  Ma- 
sons, must  be  a  man,  free  born,  at  least 
twentj-ODe  years  oif  age,  in  full  pos- 
session of  all  the  mental  faculties,  hav- 
ios  some  trade,  or  honest  profession, 
vfaereby  he  mav  be  enabled  to  obtain 
a  sabs  imself,  and  those 

depenc  for  a  support,  be- 

sides t  the  relief  of  oth- 


ers in  distress.  He  must  be  possessed 
of  a  benevolent  disposition,  and  be  in 
the  daily  practice  of  the  social  virtues ; 
but  above  all,  he  must  be  a  firm  be- 
liever in  the  eternal  God,  and  pay  to 
him  that  adoration  and  worship,  which 
is  due  to  Omnipotence  alone;  If  a  «on, 
he  must  be  dutiful  to  his  parents ;  if  a 
brothcTy  kind  and  affectionate  to  his 
brothers  and  sisters;,  if  a  busbandy 
tender,  (brbearing,  and  respectful  to 
his  wife ;  and  if  a  parent,  he  must  be 
in  the  exercise  of  that  affection,  dig- 
nity, and  prudence,  requisite  to  the 
good  government  of  a  family;  always 
remembering  that  precept  and  exam- 
ple should  go  hand  in  hand.  With- 
onxt  these  requisites,  no  person  can, 
consistently  with  the  principles  of 
our  ancient  oider,  be  made  a  Mar 
son. 

OF  PROPOSING  A  CANDIDATB. 

Any  person  wishing  to  become  a 
Mason,  must  be  proposed  by  a  mem- 
ber of  the  lodge  to  which  application 
is  made,  at  least  one  communication 
previous  to  the  time  of  his  initiation, 
that  the  brethren  may  have  an  op- 
portunity of  inquiring  into  his  char- 
acter, and  qaalifications ;  for  which 
purpose  a  special  committee  is  gen- 
erally appwnted,  but  io  some  large 


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42 


MASONtt. 


towns,  this  doty  is  peribrmed  by  a 
standing  committee. 

AJl  ^^\cBU(m&  ought  to  be  made 
in  writing,  which  shmild  be  filed  by 
the  secretary.  The  following  may 
answer  for  a  form  of  application :  . 

To  the    Worshipful  Master^    War- 
denSy  and  other  Brethren  of 

Lodgty  No» 
The  undersigned  having  long  enter- 
tained a  high  respect  for  thf  institu- 
tion of  Masonry,  is,  if  found .  worthy, 
desirous  of  being  initiated  into  its  mys- 
teries, and  becoming  a  member  of 
your  lodge.  His  place  of  residence  is 
hb  age  his 

occupation 

(Sigiied)  E.  H, 

The  candidate  has  a  right,  previous 
to  initiation  to  request  a  perusal  of  the 
warrant  or  dispensation  by  which  the 
lod^e  is  held,  as  well  as  the  by-laws 
and  a  list  of  the  members.  The  war- 
rant, if  genuine,  will  be  found  written 
or  printed  on  parchment,  and  signed 
by  some  grand  master,  his  deputy, 
the  grand  wardens,  and  secretary; 
with  the  grand  lodge  seal  affixed. 

Previous  to  admission,  the  follow- 
ing interrogative  are  generally  put  to 
the  candidate,  to  whidi  he  must  give 
his  assent : 

"  Do  you  seriously  declare,  upon 
your  honour,  that, unbiassed  by  friends, 
and  uninfluenced  by  mercenary  mo- 
tives, you  freely  and  voluntarily  offer 
yourself  a  candidate  for  the  mysteries 
of  Masonry? 

"  Do  you  seriously  declare,  upon 
your  honour,  that  you  are  prompted 
to  solicit  the  privileges  of  Masonry  by 
a  favourable  opinion  of  the  institution, 
a  desire  of  knowledge,  and  a  sincere 
desire  of  being  serviceable  to  your  fel- 
low creatures  ? 

**  Do  you  seriously  declare,  upon 
your  honour,  that  you  will  conform  to 
the  ancient  established  usages  of  the 
order?*' 

In  some  lodges  howeter,  the  candi- 
date is  requested  to  sign  a  certificate, 
t^xpressive  of  sentiments  contained  in 


tbe  abore  questions,  instead  of  their 
being  verbally  put. 

OF  A  LODGE  AND  ITS  OOVBBNMBKT. 

The  word  lodge,  is  expressive  both 
of  the  place  where  Masons  meet,  and 
the  members  of  which  it  is  composed. 
,  Every  lodge  ought  to  assemble  for 
work  at  least  once  a  month,  and  to 
consist  of  as  many  members  as  the 
master,  and  a  majority  of  tbe  breth- 
ren shall  think  expedient. 

The  officers  of  a  lodge  should  con- 
sist of  a  roaster,  a  senior  and  a  junior 
warden,  a  secretary,  a  treasurer,  one  or 
raord  masters  of  ceremonies,  two  dea- 
cons, one  or  more  stewards,  and  a  tyler. 

OF  THE  ELECTION  OF  OFF1CBB8. 

The  officers  must  be  annually  elect- 
ed, by  ballot,  each   member  having 
one  vote;  and  the  election  always  to 
be  held  on  the  evening  of  a  regular 
communication.     As  all   prefemieat 
among  Masons  depends  on  real  merk, 
no  person  should  be  put  in  nomination 
through  prejudice,  or  for  his  birth  or 
fortune,  and  the  only  consideration 
should  be,  whether  he  is  worthy,  and 
ca|)able  of  filling  the  office  with  ho- 
nour to  the  lodge,  and  to  the  advance- 
ment of  the  general  interests  of  the  fra- 
ternity.   No  brother  can  be  master  of 
a  lodge  till  he  has  previously  served 
in  the  capacity  of  warden,  excepting 
in  cases  where  a  new  lodge  is  to  be 
formed,  and  no  former  warden  is  to  be 
found  among  the  members;  in  which 
case,  three  well  qualified  roaster  Ma- 
sons, who  have .  never  served  in  such 
offices,  may  be  constituted  master  and 
wardens  of  the  new  lodge,  or  of  aoy 
old  lodge,  in  like  emergency.     No 
brother  has  a  right  to  refuse  his  ser- 
vices in  any  office  to  which  he  may 
be  elected,  unless  he  has  previoasly 
served  in  the  same  office. 

<lF  THE  master's  DITTT. 

The  master,  after  having  been  duly 
elected  and  installed,  has  it  in  special 
charge,  to  see  that  the  by-laws  of  his 
lodge,  as  well  as  the  general  regula- 
tions of  the  grand  Jodge,  be  duly  ob- 

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MAIONIC. 


4S 


lerved,  iktU  lib  itibordiiiate  officers 
fiiithfully  perforin  their  duty,  and  that 
they  shidl  be  examples  of  diligence 
tad  moral  rectitude  to  the  rest  of  the 
craft.  He  is  to  admit  no  apprentice 
or  fellow  craft  into  his  lodge  unless^ 
he  has  sufficient  employment  for  him,^ 
and  finds  him  duly  qualified  for  leam- 
ingy  and  understandiug  the  sublime 
m^eries  of  the  art.  He  has  the 
power  of  calling  a  special  meeting, 
upoo  the  applic|ition  of  any  of  the 
bfethren,  or  upon  any  emergency, 
which  in  his  own  judgment  demands 
it,  and  he  is  to  fill  the  chair  when 
preseoc.  It  is  also  his  duty,  together 
with  his  wardens,  to  attend  the  com- 
jnuoicaticms  of  the  grand  lodge,  if 
within  such  distance  as  the  laws  of 
the  grand  lodge  have  ascertained,  and 
wbes  there,  they,  or  either  of  them, 
have  power  to  represent,  and  to  trans- 
act all  matters  of  their  lodge,  in  the 
jame  manner  as  if  the  whole  body 
were  present.  It  is  the  duty  of  the 
Blaster  to  take  charge  of,  and  carefully 
preserve  the  warrant  or  charter* 

or  THE  WARDENS. 

Veae  but  those  who  have  arrived 
ta  th^  sublime  degree  of  master  Ma- 
aoB,  can  be  elected  wardens  of  a 
Mge. 

The  general  duty  of  the  wardens  is 
to  assist  the  master  in  transacting  the 
bnioeas  of  the  lodge  in  due  form. 
Some  particdar  lodges  however,  by 
tlieir  by-laws,  assign  to  their  wardens 
odier   duties,  for  their  own  conveni- 
eoce,  which  they  have  a  right  to  do, 
provided  they  keep  ha  view  the  anci* 
enc  landmarks,  and  in  no  way  violate 
fhe  tree  genius  and  spirit  of  Masonry. 
la  the  master's  absence,  the  duties  of 
bis  oCee  devolves  on  the  senior  war- 
den, and  in  case  of  the  master's  death, 
remoiral,  or  resignation,  he  is  to  fill 
Ibe  chair  till  the  next  regular  election : 
Mid  in  case  of  the  absoace  of  the  se- 
rden  takes  the  au- 
wrever,  a  p<z9t  mas- 
generally  reqoesl- 
to  take  the  chair, 
rly  congregated. 


OP  THE  SBCtttAET. 

It  is  the  duty  of  the  secretary  to  re- 
cord all  such  transactions  of  the  lodge 
as  are  proper  to  be  committed  to  wri- 
ting, that  soeh  minutes,  or  an  antheli- 
ticated  copy  of  them  may  be  laid  be*- 
fore  the  ^rand  lodee  when  required* 
He  is  also  to  keep  a  correct  list  of  all 
the  members  of  the  lodge,  with  the 
dates  of  their  admission,  and  annually 
to  forward  to  the  grand  secretary,  a 
complete  list  for  the  time  being,  at 
such  time  as  may  be  required.  He  is 
also  required  to  collect  all  dues,  and 
pay  them  over  to  the  treasurer. 

OF  THE  TREASUREE. 

It  is  the  duty  of  the  treasurer  to  re- 
ceive all  monies  raised,  and  to  pay 
them  out  agreeably  to  orders  drawn 
on  him  by  proper  authority :  making 
regular  entries  of  both  receipts  and 
expenditures,  and  always  having  his 
books  and  vouchers  ready  for  ins(>ec- 
tion.  He  has  also  charge  of  the  jewels 
and  furniture  of  the  lodge,  excepting 
when  it  is  thought  proper  to  a}  point 
some  other  brother  for  that  particular 
duty,  or  when  the  officers  of  the  lodge 
choose  to  take  the  charge  immediate- 
ly upon  themselves. 

OP  THE  DEACONS. 

The  deacons  are  to  assist  the  war- 
dejis  in  the  execution  of  their  duty,  to 
examine  a|id  welcome  visiting  breth- 
ren, to  prepare  candidates,  and  to  per- 
form, such  other  services  as  are  assign- 
ed them. 

OP  THE  MASTERS  OP  CERE  MONIES. 

The  duties  of  these  officers  arc 
taught  them  in  the  lodge ;  and  are  well 
known  to  every  master  Mason. 

OP  THE  STEWARDS. 

The  stewards  are  to  provide  refresh- 
ments, and  make  a  regular  report  of 
the  expense  to  the  treasunr ;  and  to 
see  that  the  regalia  of  the  lo<]ge  are  in 
good  order,  and  always  ready  for  use, 

OP  THE  TYLER. 

In  order  that  due  decorum  be  ob- 
served, while  the  lodije  is  eiit/aged  in 
business,  and  for  the  presefvation  of 
secrecy  and  good  harmony,  a  well 


BIASONfC 


skilled  roaster  Mason,  is  appointed 
and  paid  for  tyling  the  k>dge,  during 
the  time  of  coannunkation.  ^Gene- 
rally a  brother  is  to  be  preferred,  to 
whom  the  fees  of  the  office  may  be 
necessary  and  serviceable,  on  account 
of  his  particular  circurostances. 

His  duty  is  fixed  by  custom,  and 
known  to  every  brother.  He  is  to  be 
true  and  irustifj  and  to  obey  the  spe- 
cial directions  of  the  lodge, 

OP  THB  NUMBER  TO  BE  INITIATED. 

Not  more  than  five  candidates,  can 
be  initiated  into  a  lodge  at  one  and  the 
same  time,  excepting  by  a  special  dis- 
pensation from  the  grand  master,  or 
his  deputy  in  bis  absence. 

OP  PRIVILEGES  IN  LODOBS. 

The  majority  of  any  lodge,  when 
duly  congregated,  have  the  right  of 
instructinf  the'rr  master  and  wardens 
relative  to  their  conduct  in  the  grand 
lodge;  and  when  it  so  happens,  that  a 
lodge  cannot  attend  the  communica- 
tions of  the  grand  lodge,  they  may  ap- 
point a  worthy  brother,  not  under  the 
rank  of  a  past  master,  and  give  him 
insrructions  to  represent  them,  and 
vote  in  their  behalf.  He,  bearing  their 
ceriincate  under  the  seal  of  the  lodge, 
and  signed  by  the  master  and  wardens, 
may,  if  approved  by  the  officers  of  the 
grand  lodge,  take  his  seat  among  them, 
and  vote  and  act  in  the  name  of  the 
lodge  he  represents.  Buf  no  individ- 
ual can  appear  for  more  than  one 
lodge  at  the  same  time. 

Lodpes  have  place  according  to  the 
date  of  their  constitution ;  but  shquld 
any  lodge  cease  to  meet  regularly  for 
twelve  months  successively,  their  char- 
ter is  forfeited. 

OF  ATTENDANCE. 

Every  brother  should  be  a  member 
of  some  regular  lodge,  if  circumstances 
will  admit,  and  it  is  his  indispensable 
duty  regularly  to  attend.  By  the  an- 
cient rules  of  Masonry,  which  every 
lodge  would  do  well  to  adopt  in  their 
by-law.^,  no  excuse  was  judged  su(i*« 
cicDt  tor  absence,  short  of  satisfying 
the  lodge  that  it  was  occasioned  by 


some  extntaidiiiary  or  rafbrBfeen  ae- 

cessity. 

OF  BEHAVIOUR  IN  A  LODOB. 

No  private  committees  are  allowecf 
while  the  lodge  stands  open  for  worky 
and  all  conversation  foreign  to  the 
business  of  the  lodge  is  strictly  forbid- 
den. Strict  attention  is  required  while 
any  brother  is  addressing  himself  to 
the  chair,  and  during  the  performance 
of  the  more  solemn  duties  of  the  lodge; 
Obedience  to  the  piDper  authority  is 
to  be  observed,  and  a  due  respect  paid 
to  all  the  brethren. 

OF    THE     BEHAVIOUR     OF    MASONS    Uf 
THEIR  PRIVATE  CHARACTER. 

Masons  should  be  extremely  cair- 
tions  of  their  behaviour  in  all  places  ^ 
carefully  avoiding  every  kind  of  ex- 
cess or  immorality;  as  being  directly 
contrary  to  the  principles  of  the  frater- 
nity, and  in  violation  of  the  direct  comu 
mands  of  that  Being,  to  whom  strict 
obedience  is  due,  and  who  every  Mason 
acknowledges  as  his  Grand  master. 

It  ts  particularly  enjoined  on  Ma- 
sons, to  be  true  to  the  constitution  of 
the  civil  government  under  which  they 
live,  to  pay  strict  obedience  to  the 
laws,  and  never  to  be  concerned  io 
conspiracies. 

Every  Mason  ought  to  be  industri- 
ous in  his  vocation,  and  use  all  proper 
means  to  enable  himself  to  pay  for  all 
the  necessaries  of  life,  so  that  he  may 
not  "  eat  any  man's  bread  for  nought.'* 
And  when  he  is  at  leisure  from  his 
necessary  avocations,  his  time  should 
be  employed  iu  studying  the  Holy 
>criptures,  the  various  arts  and  sci* 
ences,  and  every  thing  calcolated  to 
enable  him  the  better  to  serve  his 
Creator,  and  to  render  him  more  use-' 
ful  to  his  country,  bis  neighbour^  and 
himself. 

Masons  are  to  meet  each  other  in  m 
courteous  manner,  and  no  true  Mctsim  I 
will  neglect  a  brother,  on  account  oT  ' 
fiis  having  through  unforeseen  misfor-  I 
tunes,  or  by  the  afflictive  hand  of  Pro-  J 
videnct,  been  reduced  in  his  circnm- 1 
stances^  but  will  treat  him  with  x^Jk 


UMSK^Hi. 


4i 


if>ect,  and  as  far  as  lies  is  his  pover. 
without  injury  to  himself  or  family, 
administer  to  his  wants ;  and  if  he  be 
ia  want  of  employment,  will  either 
give  it  to  him  himself,  or  use  every 
possible  means  to  procure  it  for  him 
firom  others. 

When  in  company  with  strangers, 
or  those  who  are  not  Masons,  the  ut- 
most prudence  in  conversation,  par- 
ticularly oo  the  subject  of  Masonry, 
ought  to  be  observed,  and  all  imper- 
tineol  or  ensnaring  questions  should 
be  answered  with  caution,  or  the 
convenation  turned  to  another  sub- 
ject. 

The  principles  of  Masonry  prohibit 
slander  of  every  description,  against 
tbe  character  of  any  reputable  person ; 
but  the  Mason  who  aims  it  at  the  cha- 
racter of  a  worthy  brother,  is  guilty  of 
a  tenfold  crime,  it  being  his  solemn 
liuty  to  defend  his  brother's  character 
agaiost  all  unjust  reproaches,  or  maii- 
cioiis  attacks^  and  to  warn  him  of  all 
approaching  danger. 

Suits  at  Taw  between  Masons,  are 
d5rectiy  inconsistent  with  the  ancient 
rules  and  usages  of  the  order,  and 
oiigfit,«as  far  as  possible,  to  be  avoided. 
^9iould  differences  unhappily  arise  be- 
tween brethren,  relative  to  any  teinpo- 
lal  concerns,  application  should  first 

one  or 
ve  the 
should 
hede- 
uldbe 
where 
exist, 
ibove, 
1  bro- 
he  ci- 
iikl  be 
i  pur- 
kJ  be 
*  said 
ion  or 
i  and 
f  and 
It  is 
sufier 
asoQS 


ought  to  be  actuated  by  the  sentiments 
advanced  by  St.  Paul,  in  his  directions 
to  his  Christian  brethren,  in  the  sixth 
chapter  of  the  first  epistle  to  the  Co- 
rinthians, where  he  tells  them  that  there 
is  "  utterly  a  fauit^^  among  them,  be- 
cause they  <<  go  to  law  one  with  ano- 
ther ;'\and  directs  them  to  refer  their 
matters  of  difference  to  the  decision 
of  some  of  their  brethren. 


OF  A  GRAND  LODGE. 

A  GRAND  LODOB  consists  of  the 
masters  and  wardens  of  all  the  regular 
lodges,  within  iu  jurisdiction,  with 
the  grand  roaster  at  their  head,  the  de- 
puty grand  master  on  his  left,  and  the 
grand  wardens  in  their  proper  places ; 
attended  also  by  the  grand  secretary, 
grsnd  treasurer,  grand  tyltr,  grand 
pursuivant,  and  other  necessary  offi- 
cers. 

No  new  lodge  can  be  acknowledged^ 
or  their  ofikers  admitted  into  the  grand 
lodge,  until  such  new  lodge  is  regular- 
ly consli^tuted,  and  registered  by  the 
grand  lodge. 

All  grand  past,  and  deputy  grand 
past  masters,  past  grand  Wardens, 
and  past  masters  of  warranted  lodges 
ou  record,  who  continue  members  of 
any  regular  lodge,  are,  both  by  cour- 
tesy aud  custom,  admitted  to  vote  in 
all  grand  lodges.  Past  grand  secreta- 
ries, and  past  grand  treasurers,  by 
courtesy  have  also  the  privilege  of  sit- 
ting in  all  grand  lodges,  and  of  voting 
on  si»ch  matters  as  they  might  have 
done  while  in  office. 

No  master,  warden,  or  other  men> 
her  of  the  grand  lodge,  should  ever  at- 
tend without  the  jewels^  he  ought  to 
wear  in  his  own  lodge,  unless  1^  can 
produce  a  satisfactory  reason  for  such 
omission.  When  ,the  officer  dt  any 
particular  lodge,  from  urgent  business, 
or  any  casualty,  cannot  personally  at- 
tend, he  may  send  a  brother  of  his 
lodge,  with  his  jewels  and  clothing,  to 
supply  his  place  in  the  grand  lodge.. 
[See  preceding  page,  "  of  the  privi^ 
kge9  in  lodges,'^] 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


46 


MASONIC. 


Any  respectable  master  Mason, 
haTifig  business,  or  whose  attendance 
may  be  necessary  in  point  ofevidence 
or  intelligence,  may  be  admitted  into 
the  grand  lodge,  if  deemed  proper  by 
that  body ;  iMit  he  can  have  no  vote, 
Kor  be  aflowed  to  speak  on  any  ques- 
tion without  special  permission. 

The  grand  lodge  must  have  four 
stated  meetings  a  year,  for  quarterly 
communications;  and  such  other 
meetings  as  business  may  require,  to 
be  held  in  the  grand  lodge  room  only, 
excepting  the  grand  master  should 
think  it  expedient  to  appoint  some 
other  pkice  for  a  special  meeting. 

All  matters  in  tne  grand  lodge  are 
determined  by  a  majority  of  votes,  each 
member  having  one  vote,  unless  for 
the  sake  of  expedition,  certain  subjects 
are  left  to  the  determination  of  the 
grand  master. 

It  is  the  business  of  the  grand  lodge 
to  consider,   transact,  and  settle  all 
matters  concerning  the  craft  in  gene- 
^1,  or  private  lodges,  and  single  bre- 
thren in  particular.     All  differences 
which  brethren  cannot  adjust  between 
themselves,  nor  by  a  particular  lodge, 
•re  here  to  be  considered  and  decided. 
But  if  any  brother  be  dissatisfied  by 
such  decision,  he  may  lodge  an  appeal 
in  writing,  with  the  grand  secretary, 
and  have  a  re-hearing,  and  final  deci- 
sion, at  the  next  quarterly  communica- 
tion, provided  it  be  notion  the  annual 
Sleeting  of  tlie  grand  lodge,  or  on  ei- 
ther of  the  festivals  of  St.  John,  on 
which  no  petitions  or  appeals  are  to 
be  heard,  nor  any  business  transacted 
to  disturb  the  harmony  of  the  assem- 
bly, but  must  all  be  referred  to  the 
next  meeting.   And  in  general,  all  un- 
finished business  of  one  meeting,  may 
be  adjourned,  or  referred  to  a  coro- 
mittle,  to  report  their  opinion  at  the 
aext  meeting. 

The  officers  of  all  subordinate  lod- 
ges irader  the  jurisdiction  of  the  grand 
lodge,  shall,  at  every  quarterly  commu- 
nication ^except  those  of  distant  lodges, 
who  shall  annually,  on  or  befbre  the 
festival  of  St.  John  the  £?angdi^)  de- 


liver a  correct  list  of  such  members  as 
have  been  either  made  or  admitted  by 
them,  since  the  last  communicatton, 
and  books  shall  be  kept  by  the  grand 
secretary,  in  which  such  returns  shaH 
be  duly  recorded;  together  with  9  Hst 
of  all  the  lodges  in  communication,  the 
usual  times  and  places  of  their  meet* 
ing,  and  the  names  of  all  their  mem- 
bers, as  well  as  all  the  proceedings  oC 
the  grand  lodge  which  are  proper  to  be 
written. 

It  is  the  duty  of  the  grand  lodge  to 
adopt  the  most  prudent  and  emctaal 
means  of  collecting  and  managing  such 
moneys  as  may  accrue  to  the  general 
charity  fund. 

op  THS  ELKCTION  OF  THE  GRAND 
MASTBIU 

The  grand  lodge  must  meet  in  some 
convenient  place,  in  order  to  ele«t 
new,  or  reappoint  tile  old  officers,  an^ 
such  election  or  reappointment  must 
be  made  in  such  season  that  the  grand 
lodge  may  be  completely  organized, 
and  duly  prepared  for  the  celebratioQ 
of  the  annual  feast  in  June,  and  other 
important  business  of  the  season^ 

The  election  shall  be  made  either 
by  holding  up  of  hands  or  by  Imllot,  as 
may  be  agreed  by  the  majority,  dn 
motion  made  and  seconded  for  that 
purpose;  provided  always,  that  the 
brother  recommended  by  the  grand 
master  in  office,  as  his  successor,  be  the 
first  voted  for,  either  by  holding  up  of 
hands,  or  by  ballot,  and  if  he  is  not 
chosen,  the  other  candidates  in  the  or- 
der they  were  proposed,  until  one  has 
the  majority  of  voices  or  ballots.  When 
the  election  is  thus  made,  he  is  to  be 
proclaimed,  installed,  and  saluted,  If 
present ;  but  if  not  present,  a  day  is  to 
be  appointed  for  this  ceremony,  which 
is  grand,  solemn,  and  serious,  but  is 
not  to  be  described  in  writing,  nor  ever 
to  be  known  to  any  but  true  master 
Masons.     The  ceremony  of  installing 
the  new  grand  master,  is  to  be  con- 
ducted by  the  last  grand  master ;  but 
he  may,  nevertheless,  order  any  bro- 
ther weB  dulled  In  tte  cfncmony^  to 


Digitized  by  > 


W 


MASONIC 


47 


anot  bim,  <Hr  id  ai  his  deputy,  on 
the  occasion. 

In  case  the  new  gr^od  master,  when 
Bominated  or  chosen,  cannot  attend  at 
the  time  appointed  for  his  instalment, 
he  may  be  installed  by  proxy,  on  sig- 
nifying bis  acceptance  of  the  office ; 
but  siKb  proxy  roust  be  either  the  last 
or  a  ibriner  grand  master,  or  else  a 
Tery  reputable  past  master. 

OP  THB    BLSCTION   OE   APK>INTMENT 
or  THB  DKPUTT  ORAND  MASTER. 

Tbe  last  grand  master  thus  con- 
tboed,  or  a  new  grand  master  thus 
^pointed  and  installed,  has  an  in- 
herent right  to  nominate  and  appoint 
Che  deputy  grand  master ;  because,  as 
tbe  grand  roaster  cannot  be  supp<»ed 
to  h«  able  to  give  his  attendance  on 
eveiy  emergency,  it  has  been  always 
judged  necessary,  not  only  to  allow 
Mm  a  deputy,  but  that  such  deputy 
should  be  a  person  in  whom  he  can 
perfecdy  confide,  and  with  whom  he 
can  have  full  harmony. 

OF  THE  GRAND  WARDEItS. 

The  grand  lodge  has  the  right  of 
electing  the  grand  wardens,  and  any 
member  has  a  right  to  propose  one  or 
both  the  candidates,  either  the  old 
wardens,  or  new  ones ;  and  the  two 
persoos  who  have  the  majority  of 
▼otes  or  ballots,  are  dedared  duly 
dected. 

OP  THE  eEAND  8CCSBTAET.  * 

The  offikce  of  grand  secretory  has 
Veeooie  of  very  great  importance  in 
the  grand  lodge.  All  the  transac- 
lioos  of  the  lodge  are  to  be  drawn  into 
(Mm,  and  duly  recorded  by  him.  All 
petitioat,  applications,  and  appoab, 
are  to  pass  through  his  hands.  No 
wamiBt,  certificate,  or  instruoient  of 
wrkicig  from  the  grand  lodge,  is  ao- 
iheatic,  without  his  attestation  and  sig- 
ooture,  and  hb  affising  the^and  seal 
as  the  laws  require.  The  general  cor- 
lespoodence  with  lodges  and  brethren 
sirer  the  whole  world,  is  to  be  managed 
hy  Imu,  agreeably  to  the  voice  of  the 
grand  kx^e,  and  directions  of  the 
g^aad  Miatfier  or  hisdepnty^  whom  he 


misif  thai*fore,  be  ^hwfs  ready  lo 
attend,  with  the  books  of  the  lodge,  in 
order  to  give  all  necessary  iiiformationi 
concerning  the  general  state  of  mat* 
ters,  and  what  is  proper  to  be  done 
upon  any  emergency. 

For  these  reasons,  at  every  anmud 
election  or  appointment  of  grand  offi* 
cers,  the  nomination  or  appointment 
of  the  grand  secretary  has  been  con- 
sidered as  the  right  of  the  grand  mas* 
ter,  being  properly  his  amanuensis, 
and  an  officer  as  necessa^'y  to  him  as 
bis  cleputy.'  But  in  general,  grand 
masters,  not  being  tenacious  of  prero- 
gative, have  relinquished  this  privi- 
lege; and  the  grand  secretory  is  cho- 
sen by  the  nomination  and  vote  of  the 
grand  lodge. 

The  grand  secretary,  by  virtue  of 
his  office,  b  a  memb^  of  the  grand 
lodge,  aiid  may  sit  and  vote  accord- 
ingly. 

The  grand  secretary  may  appoint 
an  assistant,  but  he  will  not  be  con- 
sidered a  member,  nor  admitted  to 
vote. 

OP  THE  ELECTION  AND  OPPICE  OP 
GRAND  TREASURER. 

The  grand  treasurer  is  elected  by 
the  body  of  the  grand  lodge,  in  thie 
same  manner  as  the  grand  wardens  f 
he  being  considered  as  an  officer  pe- 
culiarly responsible  to  all  the  members 
in  due  form  atsembM,  as  having  the 
chaife  of  their  common  stock  and  pro- 
perty. Ta  him  is  committed  the  care 
of  flil  money  raised  for  the  general 
diarity,  and  other  uses  of  the  grand 
loc^ ;  an  account  of  which  he  is  re- 
gularly to  enter  in  a  booky  whh  the 
respective  oses  for  which  the  several 
sums  are  intended.  He  is  likewise  to 
pay  out,  or  expend  the  same  upon 
such  orders,  signed,  as  the  rules  of  the 
grand  lodge  in  this  respect  shall  allow 
to  be  valid. 

The  grand  treasurer,  by  vktoe  of 
his  office,  is  a  member  of  the  grand 
lodge,  and  has  a  right  to  appoint  an 
anaistaat,  or  clerk,  who  most  be  a  mas- 
ter Mason,  but  not  eiMisidered  a  mem- 
Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


4» 


MASONIC. 


b^  of  die  grand  lodge.  He  of  his 
clerk,  shall  always  be  present  In  the 
lodge,  and  ready  to  attend  the  grand 
master  and  other  grand  officers,  with 
his  books  for  inspection  when  required; 
and  likewise  any  committee  that  may 
bte  apporoted  for  adjusting  and  examin* 
ing  his  accounts. 

OP  THE  GRAND  TYLER,  AND  GRAND 
PURSUIVANT. 

These  officers  of  the  grand  lodge 
must  be  master  Masons,  but  none  of 
them  are  mdmbers  of  the  grand  loiljjc. 
The  tyler's  duty  is  to  attend  at  ibe 
door,  to  see  that  none  but  members 
enter  into  the  lodge. 

The  business  of  the  pursuivant  is  to 
stand  at  the  inward  door  of  the  grand 
lodge,  and  to  report  the  names  and 
titles  of  all  that  want  admittance,  as 
given  to  him  by  the  tyler.  He  is 
also  to  go  upon  messages,  and  per- 
form other  services  known  only  in  the 
lodge. 

OP  THE  GRAND  DEACONS. 

The  grand  deacons,  whose  duty  is 
well  known  in  the  grand  lodge,  as 
particular  assistants  to  the  grand  mas- 
ter and  senior  warden,  in  conducting 
the  business  of  the  lodge^  are  al- 
ways members  of  the  same ;  and  may 
be  either  nominated  occasionally  on 
every  lodge  night,  or  appointed  annu- 
ally. 

GENERAL  RULES  PORCONmnrrUlO  THE 
BUSINESS  OP  THE  ORAlID  LODGE,  IN 
CAgE  OP  THE  ABSENCE  W  ANT  ONft 
OP  THE  GRAND  OPPtCERS. 

In  the  absence  of  the  grand  master, 
bia  deputy  supplies  his  place,  in  the 
absence  of  both,  the  senior,  and  in  case 
of  bis  absence  also,  the  junior  warden 
takes  the  chair.  All  grand  officers, 
present  and  past,  take  place  of  every 
master  of  a'  lodge,  and  the  present 
grand  officers  take  place  q(  all  past 
grand  officers.  Nevertheless,  any  of 
them  may  resiga  their  privilege,  to  do 
hGttour  to  any  eminent  brother  and 
past  master,  whom  the  lodge  may  be 
willing  to  place  in  the  chair  on  any 
parlioilar  occasion. 


If  tlie  grand  officers  are  not  present, 
the  master  of  the  senior  private  lodge 
who  may  be  present,  b  to  take  the 
chair,  although  tliere  may  be  masters  - 
of  lodges  present,  who  are  older  Ma- 
sons. 

But  to  prevent  disputes,  the  grand 
master,  when  he  finds  he  must  be  ne- 
ces!<arily  absent  from  any  grand  lodge, 
usually  gives  a  special  commission, 
under  his  hand  and  seal  of  office,  coun- 
tersigned by  the  grand  secretary,  to 
the  senior  grand  warden,  or  in  his  ab- 
sence to  the  junior,  or  in  case  of  the 
absence  of  both,  to  any  other  grand 
officer  or  particular  master  of  a  lodge, 
past  or  present,  to  supply  his  place,  if 
the  deputy  grand  master  be  necessarily 
absent. 

But  if  there  he  no  special  commis- 
sion, the  general  rule  of  precedence  is, 
that  the  junior  grand  warden  suppU^ 
the  place  of  the  senior  in  his  absience  ; 
and  if  both  are  absent,  the  oldest  A>r- 
mer  grand  wardens  take  place  im me- 
diately, and  act  as  grand  wardens,  pro 
tempore,  unless  they  resign  their  pri- 
vilege. 

When  neither  the  grand  wardens  of 
the  present,  nor  of  any  former  year, 
are  in  company,  the  grand  master,  or 
he  that  legally  presides  in  his  stead, 
calls  forth  whom  he  pleases  to  act  as 
deputy  grand  master  and  grand  waiw 
dens,  although  the  preference  is  gene- 
rally given  to  the  master  or  past  mas- 
ter of  the  oldest  lodge  present.  The 
presiding  grand  officer  has  the  further 
privilege  of  appointing  a  secretary,  <»• 
any  omer  grand  officer,  if  neither  the 
stated  officers,  nor  the  deputies  of  such 
of  them  as  have  a  right  to  nominate  a 
deputy,  be  present. 

In  case  of  the  death  of  a  grand  mas- 
ter, the  same  order  of  succession  and 
precedency  takes  place,  as  is  above 
set  forth,  tmtil  a  new  grand  master  is 
dulv  clKMen  and  installed. 

Old  grtmd  officers  may  be  again 
chosen  officers  of  private  lodges,  and 
this  does  not  deprive  them  of  any  of 
the  privileges  to  which,  as  old  grand 
officers,  ihey  are  entitled  in  the  grand 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


KASOMia 


49 


kfdge^  only,  an  old  ^nnd  officer,  be^ 
big  the  officer  of  a  pnvate  lodge,  mast 
dnntte  a  past  officer  of  bis  particular 
feoge  to  act  for  him  in  the  grand  loc^e, 
when  he  ascends  to  his  fomer  rank  in 
the 


I 

I 


OP  OKAND   VISITATIONS,  COMMUNICA- 
TIONS,  ANNUAL  FEASTS,  &C. 

The  grand  master  with  his  deputy, 
the  grand  wardens,  and  grand  secre- 
tary, shall,  if  possible,  annually,  go  at 
leak  once  round,  and  visit  all  the  lod- 
gB  under  his  jurisdiction;  or,  when 
UH3  laudable  duty  becomes  impracti- 
cable, from  the  extent  of  his  jurisdic- 
tion, and  large  number  of  iod||i%  he 
shall,  as  often  as  necessary,  and  if  pos- 
sible annually,  appoint  vbiters,  of  dif- 
ferent districts,  composed  of  his  gruid 
officers,  and  such  other  assistants  as 
be  may  think  proper,  who  shall  make 
Uthfiil  report  of  their  proceedings  to 
Ae  grand  lodge,  according  to  the  in- 
stnictions  given  them. 

When  l^th  the  grand  masters  are 
ahsent,  the  senior  or  junior  grand  war* 
ien  may  preside  as  deputy  in  visiting 
lod^esy  or  in  constituting  any  new 
lodge* 

The  brethren  of  all  the  regular  lod- 
ges, in  the  same  general  jurisdiction, 
wd  grand  communication,  shall  meet 
in  some  convenient  place  on  St.  John^s 
day,  to  celebrate  their  festival ;  either 
in  dieir  own,  or  any  other  regular 
MgjSf  as  th^  shall  judge  most  con- 
fcnienc.  And  any  brethren,  who  are 
foond  true  and  faithful  members  of  the 
aacjent  craft,  may  be  admitted.  But 
inly  those  who  are  members  of  the 
gnmd  lodge  must  be  present  duiing 
the  instaUatlon  of  grand  officers. 

ne  ceremonies,  charges,  pnyerh  &e. 
me  hereafter  to  be  giveoi  mider  their  pro- 
Btrkewii. 

_  oompeadiaai  is  generil, 
_  the  rales  sod  regalations  of  lod- 
|es  throa^oot  the  world.  We  design,  in 
nsaeeding  nambersy  as  we  may  have  room, 
lo  nMsfa  from  time  to  time,  any  such  rules 
mk  regalaSloiit  of  diffcfent  grand  lodges, 
assay  be  oomiMuueated  to  as  for  that  par- 
Ma,  together  with  lepUar  lists  of  sobor- 
mmit  lodfes  oader  (beir  seyeral  jurisdio- 


tk>BS,  the  time^  of  their  regaltr  eemndoni- 
eationt,  and  the  names  of  their  offioen. 
To  this  end,  we  respeetfuily  solicit  oof 
brethren,  the  secretaries  of  all  the  grand 
lodges  in  the  United  States,  and  the  Brit- 
ish and  Spanish  dominions  In  Aoierioa,  to 
iiimiih  as  with  sach  doanaeots  relative  to 
their  respective  lodges,  as  are  suitable  to 
be  comipitted  to  writing,  and  would  be  for 
the  general  information  and  Interest  of  the 
ffoternity,  to  record  in  the  Register. 

For  TBS  Masoivic  RtoiSTBB. 
ORATION, 
Delivered  at  St.  Johv?$  HaO,  Netd- 
York,  befhre  Coltjmbi an  Encamp- 
M£NT,  at  their  quarterly  comnntni^ 
caHmtj  on  the  2&h  of  August,  5819^ 
by  Sir  Geoeob  Howaad,  Ukuiri* 
ous  grand  prelate, 

JTttihYork,  Jhig.  27,  6810. 
SiR  GxoaOB, 

Pursuant  to  a  resolution  of  Cohimbiaa 
Encampment,  die  undersigned  bee  leaTe 
to  tender  the  thanks  of  that  body^  for  the 
very  eloquent  and  appropriate  address  de- 
livered by  you  on  the  26th  inst.  and  to  re- 
quest a  copy  for  publication. 

In  making  this  leqaes^,  the  committee 
talce  the  piesent  opportunity  to  assure  yo«» 
that  the^  feel  both"  prida  and  pleasuref  im 
the  performance  of  that  du^ ;  at  the  same 
time  expressing  their  entire  satlsfactiOB  of 
your  exertions  on  that  occasion. 
Accept,  Sir, 
The  assurance  of  our  idgfa  regsrdy 
Silas  Ltovi  ^ 

Joel  Joms,  >  Committee* 

Gakuet  MoROAir, ) 
akr  Qtm-gi  BfUfOrd,  lUmuisftts  Oimd 
fkolate. 


Ae»-Yi>rk,Mg.27,B9W. 
Sir  Ksiobts, 

f  ou  reauest  from  me  a  copy  of  ray  ad-* 
dress  at  tne  Quarterly  Commiioication  of 
Columbian  Encampment. 

Tour  wishes  shall  be  gvotilledy  althoodk 
I  ieel  a  deUcoqr  in  lajrhag  before  the  pabfie 
a  subjeet  whicb.1  hao  so  Uttle  time  to  ar* 
ranee.  Such  as  it  is,  I  present  it  to  youy 
and  with  it  my  thanks  for  the  kind  espres- 
dons  conuined  In  yoor  letter. 

Aceept  for  yoanoHres,  and  the  body  Yoa 
represent,  the  assurances  of  respect  ana  ee- 
teem  of  your  Companion 

And  very  bumble  serWAt, 

GvoRoe  Howard.  ' 
SmaOmLsfoth        )    Committeafroa 

,  Joel  Jones,         >  Cohwibian  Enposst* 


50 


Mksomc. 


ORATION. 

Bbstrrsn, 

As  pilgrims  from  the  East  are  you 
assembled,  companions  in  feHowship 
and  brotherly  love,  convened  to  con- 
summate the  social  relations  which 
bind  you  together  as  Masons ;  you  form 
an  interesting  group. 

While  my  feeble  powers  are  exert- 
ed on  the  present  occasion,  I  am  for- 
ced to  claim  your  kind  indulgence; 
that  if  aught  shall  escape  my  lips 
which  shall  create  disgust,  or  fail  to 
please,  let  the  benignant  hand  of  Cha- 
rity cover  with  her  mantle  my  imper- 
fections, and  eternal  silence  cqosign 
them  to  the  tomb. 

For  the  consideration  of  an  ignorant 
and  uninterested  world,  I  have  no- 
thing to  offer ;  I  leave  their  opinions 
floating  upon  the  billows  of  uncertain- 
ty and  doubt. 

'Tis  to  you,  who  have  emerged  from 
the  shades  of  ignorance,  who  have 
passed  from  chaos  and  confusion,  to 
light,  and  symmetry,  and  order ;  who 
have  been  rai^  from  the  tomb  of 
mental  blindness,  and  brought  to  view 
the  beauties  of  the  order  in  their  native 
lustre;  to  you  only  would  I  address 
myself  on  this  occasion. 

Brethren,  the  fields  of  Masonry  and 
Christianity  are  too  extensive  for  our 
feeble  vision ;  the  strongest  mind  can- 
not fathom  their  depths ;  the  eye  can- 
not search  their  i^gth  and  breadth, 
and  the  combined  powers  of  human 
nature  become  exhausted  in  tracing 
the  variegated  beauties  of  the  one,  and 
the  inestimable  riches  of  the  other. 

Astonishment, love,  and  admiration, 
seal  the  faculties ;  and  the  man  whose 
ardent  spirit  excites  him  to  dwell  up- 
on a  subject  so  highly  interesting ;  a 
theme  so  heavenly  sweet,  is  drawn  in- 
sensibly from  the  uninteresting  scenes 
of  this  world,  and  with  an  ecstacy  un- 
known and  unfelt  but  by  kindred  spi- 
rits, his  tongue  breaks  out  in  rhapsodies 
of  bliss  !  Hail,  thou  sacred  and  eter- 
nal rock  on  which  the  storms  of  world- 
ly tjoubles  beat  in  vain;  thou  tiire 
ibmidation,  against  which  the  sirocco 


of  infidelity  rolls  harmless,  and  the 
cold  blasts  of  unbelief  waste  unheeded 
at  your  base :  on  thee,  my  grasp  111 
firmly  fix,  and  bid  the  earth  roll  swift- 
ly on,  nor  heed  her  idle  whirl.   * 

Your  attention  is  claimed  to  a  re» 
trospective  view  of  Masonry  from  the 
first  moment  of  its  existence  to  the 
present  time.     Accordingly,  for  the 
more  full  comprehension  of  the  sub- 
ject, 1  shall  present  it  to  you  arranged 
into  several  important  periods :   the 
first  commencing  with  the  sublime  and 
awful  grandeur  of  the  scene  when  the 
Supreme  Architect  dissolved  the  pow- 
ers of  chaos,  and  from  a  darksome, 
dreAiy  void,  spoke  into  existence  my- 
riads of  shining  spheres,  when   the 
Creator's  wisdom  arranged  them  in 
such  elegant  order,  and  the  smile  of 
Omnipotence  beamed  light  and  life 
throughout  them  all,  and  crowned  the 
splendour  of  the  work,   by  placing 
man,  supremely  blest,  as  monarch  of 
the  whole.     From  Adam,  who  was 
created  in  the  image  of  his  God,  per- 
fect in  symmetry y  strength^  and  beau- 
ty ;  whose  heart  possessed  all  the  vir- 
tues unpolluted,  who  understood  the 
book  of  nature  in  its  full  extent,  and 
who,  by  the  irresistible  fiat  of  his  Cre- 
ator, was  pronounced  both  good  and 
great ;  from  this  fountain  of  human  ex- 
cellence, w|}ose  spirit  ministered  with 
that  of  angels,  and  who  walked  abroad 
accompanied  by  Divinity  itself,  ema- 
nated the  first  principles  of  Masonry. 

Unhappily,  in  a  moment  of  forget- 
fiilness,  he  forfeited  the  favour  of  Hea- 
ven. The  angelic  partner,  created 
from  his  own  body,  and  placed  with 
him  in  the  enchanting  recesses  of 
Paradise,  alas! — fell  a  victim  to  thei 
subtlety  of  a  sinful  appetite,  and  gor^ 
|ed  wit)i  a  delicious  repast  on  the 
forbidden  fruit !  The  self-condemned, 
crisunals  awaited  in  trembling  anxiety 
the  anathema  of  an  insulted  Creator.! 
The  judgment  came;  it  descended  upon 
them  like  a  torrent  of  fire ;  yet,  iha^ 
tender  mercy,  which  ever  shines  con^ 
Hpicuous  in  the  character  of  Deity,  sa^ 
ved  the  wretched  victims  from  dissolul 

Digitized  by  VjOOQiC 


tfASONIC. 


51 


tioe.  The  Grand  Ardikect  dul  not 
ottrrly  reject  him  from  the  building ; 
k  was  spared,  and  with  him  remained 
^  elements  of  our  order.  Through 
the  eadowments  of  memory,  Adam 
was  enabled  to  teach  a  numerous  pro- 
geny  the  sciences  he  had  comprehend- 
ed in  the  blissful  bowers  of  Ederi,  and 
the  knowledge  he  had  gained  of  Na- 
tore,  and  her  God.  As  the  inhabitants 
mcreased  throughout  the  earth,  those 
lessons  of  troth  fell  into  confusion  and 
corroption,  and  were  retained  in  their 
utiTe  lustre  but  by  few*  But  thanks 
to  the  Tirtues  of  that  few,  they  survi- 
ved the  apathy  of  the  ignorant,  and 
the  universal  language  escaped  uncor- 
rapted,  one  of  the  greatest  judgments 
and  most  horrid  catastrophes  nature 
e?cr  witnessed.  Nor  shall  the  names  of 
laied.  and  Mahaleel,  of  Enoch,  and 
Tiibal-Cain,be  erased  from  the  records 
of  Masonic  fame,  until  the  remem- 
brance of  the  universal  deluge,  which 
wrapt  in  wretchedness  and  death  the 

!  hmnao  family,  shall  sink  in  oblivion, 
and  chaos   come  again.     From  our 

I  grand  master  Noah,  his  deputy,  and 
two  wardens,  we  are  once  more  to 
date  the  revival  of  our  order.  The 
space  of  one  hundred  years  elapsed, 
and  a  namerotts  prdgeny  had  been  ini- 
tiated as  brethren  of  the  craft,  when 
the  obstinate  superstitions  of  mankind, 

I  again  brought  upon  them  the  frowns  of 
an  angry  Deity.  But  from  the  ruins 
of  Bad>el,  from  the  confusion  of  Shi- 
oar's  spacious  plain.  Freemasonry  ex- 
tended itself  to  every  comer  e#  the 
flobe. 

I  Through  hands  which  were  strength- 
e^d  by  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  it  waxed 
powerfal  and  great,  until  another  pe- 
liod  was  matured  by  the  birth  of  So- 
kmioo,  and  the  completion  of  the  tern- 
pie. 

It  is  with  peculiar  sensations  of  de- 
B|^,  we  survey  the  many  interesting 

|,      events  of  this  period,  for  on  them  are 

I  iKtnded  almost  all  the  landmarks  of 
OKideni  Masonry. 

L        A  temple  was  to  be  built  to  the 
I  GcBid  Architect  of  Universal  Nature, 


it  was  to  he  de<ficated  to  the  worship 
of  the  great  I  AM,  and  sanctified  by 
the  presence  of  Jehovah. 

Who  was  competent  to  the  task  ? 
What  mind  shonld  conceive  the  plan? 
What  hands  perform  the  work  ? 

Solomon  was  endowed  with  wisdom 
from  on  high  to  designate  the  plan  ; 
he  called  the  craft  together,  and  the 
temple  of  our  God,  was  began  and 
finished,  solely  by  Masonic  hands. 

It  is  a  pleasing  thing  to  mention,  that 
although  corruption,  perjury,  and  trea- 
son^ assailed  our  ancient  brethren,  their 
authors  were  discovered  by  the  unerr* 
ing  eye  of  justice,  and  doomed  to 
suffer  penalties  tantamount  to  their 
crimes. 

The  destruction  of  this  celebrated 
building,  and  the  captivity  of  the  Jews 
by  Nebuchadnezzar,  king  of  Babylon, 
closes  the  third  and  interesting  pe- 
riod. 

The  light  once  more  dawns  in  splen- 
dour, from  the  eastern  hills,  and  Cy- 
rus, king  of  Persia,  sounds  the  wel- 
come notes  of  freedom,  to  the  wretch- 
ed slaves  of  Babylon. 

The  fourth,  the  joyfiil  era  commen- 
ces, when  Zerubbabel,  the  chosen  of 
the  Lord,  once  more  lays  the  founda- 
tions of  tfie  house.  He  reared  its 
walls ;  he  established  its  pillars,  and 
brought  forth  the  head  stone  thereof, 
ami^  the  exulting  shouts  of  the  faith- 
ful of  the  craft,  crying  grace,  grace, 
unto  it. 

It  was  promised  that  the  glory  of 
this  latterj  should  exceed  the  glory  of 
the  former  house.  It  didj  it  was  more 
extensive^  costly,  and  magnificent; 
and,  my  brethren,  it  was  hallowed  by 
the  presence  of  Jesus  thk  Hkdekher. 
The  countenance  of  the  world^s  Sa- 
viour shed  ifc?  benignant  rays  through- 
out its  expansive  arches,  and  beamed 
bright  in  all  its  avenues.  First,  a 
temple  enlightened  by  the  Father's 
glory,  next,  the  hallowed  sanctuary  of 
the  Prince  of  Peace. 

Thus,  brethren,  closes  the  sketch  of 
Ancient  Masonry.  .  A  subject  more 
sublime  can  never  be  conceived,  more 

Digitized  by  VjOOQ IC 


VASONIGk 


lUi 


m  U  MT«r  pftseiit  itsdf  to 
has  passed  the  ordeal  of 
es,  stood  the  test  of  scrud- 
ions,  and  the  influence  of  its 
shall  become  obsolete,  and 
eer  the  wfggy  pilgrim,  but 
uisummations  of  omversal 

ave  of  ^is  part  of  oar  sub- 
aim  your  iadulgeace  to  Ma- 
now  stands. 

ist  be  the  heart,  and  insen- 
eelings  of  him,  who,  as  he 
I  bright  road,  is  not  filM 
ration  at  each  advancing 
c  and  futile  must  be  the 
m,  who,  as  he  journejeth 
^nsecrated  ground,  does  not 
If  exalted  far  above  the  le- 
world.  He  does,  my  bre- 
genutne  Mason  feels  it  all : 
oment  his  wondering  eyes 
i  interior  of  those  wsdls, 
ght  but  friendship  can  ex- 
the  moment  he  feels  the 
sure  of  that  friendly  hand 
tucts  him  tlirough  the  pass- 
iPPRBNTiC£SiiiP,  and  pre- 
lefore  the  altar  of  brotherly 
(els  his  SQul  enlarged,  he 
self  upon  the  purity  of  his 
and  the  magnanimity  of  his 

only  of  true  Masons;  I 
those  who  are  such  in  heart 
of  him,  who,  through  the 
>f  that  mysterious  v^me, 
}  deposit  wkmre  dwell  the 
he  fintemity,  is  fully  enti- 
c  as  a  Mason,  and  a  Chris* 
le  cannot  be  one^  and  not 
Although  the  ignorant  may 
iastkution  they  know  noth- 
witl»tanding  the  enemies  of 
may  say,  these  is  no  con- 
tween  Masonry  and  Chris- 
have  full  evidence  within 
feel  a  strong  glow  of  thank- 
I  a  separation  of  the  t^ms 
le ;'  that  it  would  be  as  pro- 
t  god  of  day  to  deny  the 
ower;  for  each  bright  orb 
ss  in  radiant  lustre  o'eur  ow^ 


*^«»»*«*eliAoor 


01 


headfl)  4o  cWjn  seitooalence,  or  fbr 
human  nature  to  deny  its  relation  to 
the  Grand  Architect  of  the  Universe. 

permit  me  here  to  quote  an  extract 
from  an  oration  delivered  at  Boston^ 
and  published  in  the  New-£n^and 
Galaxy. 

^^  The  Christian  Mason  is  taught  tm 
esteem  the  first  great  light  in  the  gold- 
en candlestick,  as  infinitely  superior  to 
the  light  of  nature,  reason,  and  phil<^ 
sophy,  united  in  triple  rank ;  superior 
to  the  sun  of  genius,  or  the  morning 
star  of  science ;  thb  light  of  heavea 
itself,  his  raptured  spirit  hails,  and 
faithful  as  the  star  which  led  the  ador^ 
ing  Magi  to  Bethlehem's  peaceful  vale^ 
this  light  in  death  shall  lead  the  soas 
of  peace,  the  friends  of  virtue,  and  of  ,  ^  ^^^ 
man,  to  the  eternal  fountain  of  light  iu  '^  '^'^  W  thei 
self,  who  alone  is  worthy  of  the  mora-  '^'^  ' 
ing  song,  the  noon-tide  shoutings,  and 
the  ceaseless  anthems  of  praises  firom 
all  his  works*" 

To  return;  his  eye  rests  upon  the    ''^fciylir  \^^*' 
CAEPET,  and  the  field  of  his  labour  is    ^nt  ^  w,,?^  ^ 
exhibited  to  his  view;  he  stretches    ^^'■HniTn    ^*^^ 
forth  his  hand,  and  the  working  tools 
of  his  profession  are  presented  to  hioi  ^ 
he  is  attired  in  the  robes  of  innocence, 
commences  his  labour  with  a  cheerfoi 
zeal,  nor  ceases  until  he  passes  the 
shades  of  superstition,  and  finds  him^   ^^  n^  ^^ 
self  raised  to  that  proud  station  which  .^Itap^rff  '^  in  in 
defies  the  storms  of  adversity;    he  ^^TLtoS^'^^X 
SQUARES  his  actions  with  rectitude, 
and  one  masterly  sweep  of  the  coas«. 
PASS  circuflg^cribes  his  wishes,  and  his 
views. 

It  would  require  too  much  time  to 
follow  him  through  his  whole  course 
of  labour,  and  descant  upon  the  various 
work  upon  which  he  is  employed,  un- 
til he  arrives  on noLT  ground;  we  will 
therefore  place  him  upon  the  Mosaic 


it] 


••(^wn 


•P- 


»»»ev, 


PAVEMENT,  and  associate  at  once  the  ^  ^  ^ifc,  sKaif^'^S 
Masonic  and  Christian  virtues.  .^^  '••^ral^^^  '^^v^ 

<^  On  this  ground,  companions,  wa-^k^'^lny^*^^  oi 
can  walk  and  not  stumble ;  here  we  ^jj^^"^  <tf  ^'^^ 
can  in  safety  travel  together,  safe  aaA)^^^  f  ^'^^fat 
on  the  pavement  which  God's  owia  ^J^  %itk^P'«i*  ni 
right  hand  hath  laid,  and  which  ^--'^^  ^'^t^An^  .  «l 
perpetual  d^crte  sapports,    It  is 

Digitized  by  VJ^fO^;  *tW  f  '^''^    k^ 


|^AtOKI«. 


dS 


*efa»dd»<wc  whkliliyitfiefoaad- 
atkm  of  tb«  everlasting  eovmiMBiy  and 
tbe  brazen  sinews  whieh  bind  tbe  work 
of  the  Great  Architect  together. 

^  Doth  the  90T  o^  inoxnsk^  the 
qnctkn  of  the  fraternity,  cause  its  o^ 
ferings  to  arise  in  sweet  perfumes  to- 
wards tbe  BLAziKO  SI7N,  that  die  kbour 
sf  die  TAOWCL  may  be  accepted,  and 
Ae  poiiit  of  the  swoan  be  turned  from 
pierdng  tbe  heart ;  bow  significant  of 
ibe  acceptable  service  of  him  whose 
iaceose  ascends  in  grateful  perfumes 
ia  behalf  of  ^he  oniversal  fraternity  of 
aH  tnie  believers. 

^  Do  you  ascend  to  tbe  key,  by  a 
sevenfold  progressioo,  so  in  the  num- 
ber SEVEN  y€>u  have,  the  perfect  grade 
of  your  ascent.  You  have  then  attain- 
ed to  all  the  elevation  of  thought  which 
tbe  Masonic  art  in  this  irailding  can 
give;  tbe  grade  is  finished,  tbe  strokes 
yoo  heretoibre  have  struck,  receive 
their  crown,  the  men  may  be  called  off 
fcr  refreshment,  not  to  return  to  this 
wofk  again,  but  to  obtain  the  full  ac- 
cyoqilishiBeDt  of  their  hopes  in  the 
BMnnoB  of  amore  noble  edifice,  whose 
builder  and  founder  i^  God.  When 
to  tbb  scene  you  shall  have  surrender- 
ed the  ncved  symbob  committed  to 
yaiff  charge,  the  sun  shall  be  in  its 
foil  radiance,  the  moon  shall  wax  and 
wuie  no  more,  the  lion's  oarp  shall 
bind  the  work  in  one  settled  decree, 
tbe  trump  of  the  Almighty  shall  open 
tbe  g^ves  of  them  that  rest,  and  the 
verdant  branch,  long  since  strewn  up- 
on tbe  bosoms  of  our  sleeping  breth- 
ren, shall  vegetate  and  flourish  in  ev- 
erlasting bloom.'' 

When  tbe  Mason  shall  have  be- 
come perfect  in  his  order,  and  uniting 
the  Christian  in  his  faith,  shall  have 
passed  through  the  several  grades  of 
experience,  until  he  shall  have  arrived 
al  the  Most  Holy  Order  of  Knight- 
hood, a  true  and  faithful  Templar  of 
Jesus  Christ,  and  shall  with  due  hon- 
our and  fortitude,  have  supported  tbe 
amazing  trials,  and  dangerous  vicissi- 
tudes of  this  noble  order;  ^hen  he 
AaB  have  attained  to  the  further  de- 


grees of  the  aBDCBOts,  and  tbeMBD- 
iTBKBANKAN  PASS  'j  wheu  he  cau  shake 
the  wily  ssaPBNT  from  his  hold,  nor 
feel  the  deadly  poison  of  his  embrace, 
then  may  he  feel  assured  that  Death 
and  Hen  are  conquered  in  his  behalf, 
and  that  his  name  shines  bright  on  the 
register  of  Heaven's  Eternal  Chief. 

Then  shall  the  heart  overflow  with 
gratitude  to  Rex  Reguniy  et  Domintu 
Dominorumy  and  his  tongue  shout 
praises  to  him  who  reigns  triumphant 
King  of  Saints. 

Brethren,  tak^  a  view  of  the  sym- 
bols of  our  order  ;  see  the  coffin,  that 
narrow  dwelling  in  which  we  are  to 
be  laid,  and  tbe  spade,  used  Uat  plant- 
ing our  bodies  in  tbe  dust. 

Look  into  the  grand  volume  of  hu- 
man nature,  and  read  the  uncertainty 
of  life.  You  will  learn  that  it  is  like 
the  dew  which  bespandes  the  moun- 
tain, 'tis  exhaled  by  Vne  rays  of  the 
rising  sun,  and  not  one  trace  remains 
to  denote  its  former  being. 

That  the  tender  bubble  which  floats 
upon  the  fountain,  breaks  not  easier 
than  the  fragile  cord  which  binds  us 
to  existence. 

That  it  is  rapid  in  its  course,  as  the 
wild  stream  of  the  mountain,  that 
rushes  with  resistless  fory  to  the  silent 
vale  below. 

Let  the  sign  of  the  cross,  supported 
by  the  bridge,  point  you  the  way  to 
cross  in  safety  tne  Jordan  of  Deaths 
for  the  night  will  soon  come,  that  night 
of  gloom  which  will  wrap  all  human 
nature  in  the  darksome  uiroud,  and 
doom  our  bodies  to  undivided  dust. 
But  thanks  be  to  him  whose  irresisti* 
ble  fiat  gave  bbth  to  tbe  universe, 
there  is  a  li£;ht  shall  pierce  the  deep- 
est tomb,  snail  scatter  every  sombre 
cloud,  and  break  the  sleep  of  death. 

It  is  the  star  which  beams  en  high, 
the  Great  Redeemer's  countenance, 
which  casts  \\s,  rays  throughout  crea- 
tion's empire,  and  kindly  welcomes  all. 

It  bears  us  through  the  last  dread 
hour  of  our  existence  here,  disgorges 
earth  of  all  her  sleeping  tenants,  and 
cancels  Calvary's  blood. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


54 


MASOKtC. 


It  guides  08  to  the  portids  of  the  sky, 
con&cts  us  to  the  realms  of  bliss,  and 
presents  us  perfect  in  our  order,  to  the 
Great  I  AM. 

GRAND  LODGE 
OP  THE  STATE  OP  NEW-TOIUC. 

At  an  emergent  meeting  of  the  R.W. 
grand  lodge,  held  at  the  grand  lodge 
room  in  the  City  Hotel,  in  the  city  of 
New- York,  on  Tuesday  evening,  the 
12th  Sept.  A.L.  5820. 

Present,  the  M.  W.  his  excellency 
Daniel  D.  Tompkins,  vice  president 
of  the  United  States,  &c.  &c.  on  and 
MASTER,  in  the  chair: 

The  M.  W.  G.  M.  stated  that  he 
^  had  caused  this  emergent  meeting  to 
be  called  for  the  purpose  of  consulting 
with  the  grand  lodge  on  the  subject  of 
grand  visitations ;  and  upon  the  subject 
being  taken  up,  after  a  full  discussion 
of  the  same,  and  a  variety  of  proposi- 
tions being  submitted,  on  a  motion  of 
the  W.  Br.  Hatfield,  seconded  by  the 
W.  Br.  Lott,  the  following  preamble 
and  resolution  were  passed  by  a  large 
majority. 

Whereas  the  book  of  Constitutions 
of  the  grand  lodge,  as  well  as  the  regu- 
lation adopted  iu  5806,  and  collated 
in  5819,  provides  for  the  system  of 
grand  visitation,  pursuant  to  which, 
two  different  methods  of  carrying  into 
effect  those  resolutions  were  adopted, 
both  of  which  have  been  found  inex- 
pedient, and  have  been  abolished  ;  the 
fn^  in  5814,  and  the  second  in  June, 
5820 :  and  whereas  it  appears,  from 
the  accounts  exhibited  by  the  grand 
visiters,  appointed  by  the  resolutions 
of  58 14,  and  audited;  that  the  coun- 
try lodges  have  paid  large  sums  in 
5819,  to  the  funds  of  this  grand  lodge^ 
that  is  to  say,  in  the  second  district, 
1842  dollars  87  cents ;  and  in  the  third 
district,  3572  dollars  21  cents;  of 
which,  upon  auditing  the  accounts  of 
the  grand  visiters  of  said  second  and 
third  districts,  1130  dollars  have  been 
allowed  to  the  grand  visiter  of  the  sec- 
ond district,  dim  1300  dollars  to  the 
grand  vbiter  of  the  third  district^  for 


their  senrices  and  expeiltes;  wUdl 
appear  to  be  unreasonable  deductions 
from  the  dues  of  the  lodges  within 
said  districts,  without  benefiting  the 
funds  of  the  grand  lodge,  or  contribut- 
ing to  its  ability,  by  means  thereof,  to 
answer  the  charitable  purposes  of  the 
institution :  and  whereas,  it  is  the  wish 
and  intention  of  this  grand  lodge,  to 
continue  the  system  of  visitation  by 
grand  visiters  under  its  jurisdiction,  &» 
essential  to  the  preservation  of  that 
intimate  connection  and  intercourse 
between  the  grand  lodge,  and  all  the 
lodges  under  its  jurisdiction,  on  which 
the  harmony,  usefulness,  and  dignity 
of  the  order  in  this  state,  and  its  cha* 
racter  and  station  in  the  great  Masonic 
family  must  depend : 

Therefore  resolved,  that  at  the  next 
quarteriy  communication  in  December 
next,  the  number  of  the  grand  visiters^ 
and  the  determination  of  their  dis- 
tricts, duties,  and  compensations,  be 
submitted  to  the  grand  lodge  for  their 
final  disposition,  and  that  the  grand 
secretary  cause  a  copy  of  thb  resolq| 
tion  to  be  forthwith  transmitted  to  all 
the  lodges  under  the  jurisdi^ioD  o£ 
this  g[rand  lodge. 

A  true  copy  from  the  mintttes. 
A.  LOTT,  &9miant  grand  secreiarf. 


GE4ND  LODGE  OF  K£NTUCT. 

The  grand  lodge  of  Kentucky  elect- 
ed the  following  officers  at  its  session 
on  the  29th  of  August. 

M.  W.  Henry  Clay,  grand  master. 
R.  W.  David  G.  Cowan,  D.  G.  n»as- 
ter.  R.  W.  John  M'Kinney,  Jr.  S.  G. 
warden.  R.  W.  Asa  K.  Lewis,  J.  G. 
warden.  M.  R.  Caleb  W.  Cloud,  G. 
chaplain.  Br.  John  Rowan,  G.  orator. 
Br.  Daniel  Bradford,  G.  secretary.  Br. 
Michael  Fishel,  G^  treasurer.  Br.  John 
H.  Crane,  S.  G  deacon.  Br.  J.  Speed 
Smith,  J.  G.  Deacon.  Br.  Craven,  P. 
Luckit,  G.  marshall.  Br.  Thooms 
Smith,  G.  sword  bearer.  Br.  John  D. 
Halstead,  G.  pursuivant.  Br.  Francis 
Walker,  G.  steward  and  tyler. 

The  grand  lodge  of.Kentucky  holds 

)igitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MASONIC. 


55 


lis  annual  meeting  in  Lexington,  on 
the  last  Wednesday  in  August. 

Portsmouth^  N.  H.  Sept.  l6. 

MASONIC  DEDICATION. 

Last  evening  the  new  Masonic  Hall, 
ia  the  building  lately  erected  by  IVlr. 
Boardman,  in  Congress-street,  adjoin- 
ing the  Portsmouth  hotel,  was  dedica- 
ted with  the  usual  ceremonies.     R. 
W.  Brother  S.  Larkin,  roaster  of  St. 
John's   lodge,  presided  in  the  east; 
W.  past-master  B.  Brierly,  supported 
hy  the  senior  wardens  of  St.  John's 
and  Pythagoras  lodges,  in  the  west ; 
and   W.  .past-master  J.    Davenport, 
supported  by  the  junior  wardens  of 
the  same  lodges,  in  the  south.     Pray- 
ers were  offered  to  the  Great  Architect 
of  the  Universe  from  the  Rev.  Breth- 
ren of  the  Order,  and  an  address  was 
made  by  Rev.  Brother  Streeter.    It  is 
with  pleasure  we  notice  the  attention 
of  the  brethren,  to  the  interests  of  the 
Mystic  Fraternity,  in  this  town.   The 
Hall  thus  solemnly  dedicated  to  St. 
John,  b  scarcely  surpassed  in  beauty 
and  splendour  in  any  city  in  America. 
On  this  occasion  we  were  happy  to 
observe   several  of  the  clergy,   and 
many  gentlemen  and   ladies,  invited 
guests.      Several  beautiful  paintings 
adorned  the  hall,  from  the  pencil  of 
Brother  Pierce;  that  over  the  Mas- 
ter's h^ad.  narticularlv  drew  our  at- 

lear 
iour 
ttest 
Jor 

ic/e. 


the 
Be- 

chu' 

imas 
;,jr. 
jrer. 
ezer 


Kimball,  S.  D.  Ebenezer  Fuller,  jr. 
J.  D.  Stephen  Stone,  S.  S,  Otis  Fay, 
J.  S.  Josiah  Holland,  marshall.  Amos 
Wright,  tyler. 


GRAND  CHAPTER  OF  MASSACHU- 
SETTS. 

At  a  meeting  of  the  M.  E.  grand  R. 
A.  C.  of  Massachusetts,  in  Boston,  on 
the  12th  of  September  last,  the  follow- 
ing officers  were  elected  and  appointed. 

Jonathan  Gage,  of  Newbury  port,  G. 
H.  P.  Samuel  L.  Knapp,  of  Boston, 
D.  G.  H.  P.  Caleb  Builcr,  of  Gro- 
ton,  G.  K.  Rev.  James  Morss,  of 
Newburyport,  G.  S.  Thomas  P.  Jack- 
son, of  Boston,  G.  treasurer.  John  J. 
Loring  of  Boston,  G.  secretary.  Rev. 
Paul  Dean,  of  Boston,  E.  L.  Bascom, 
of  Phillipston,  G.  W.  Olney,  of  Gardi- 
ner,  Samuel  Osgood,  of  Springfield, 
G.  chaplains.  William  Barry,  of  Bos- 
ton, G.  Marshall.  Michael  Roulston, 
Daniel  Baxter,  jr.  John  Scott,  John 
Cook,  G.  Stewards.  Stephen  S. 
Hodge.  G.  I.  S.  William  Eaton, 
Joseph  Currier,  G.  tylers.— Ga/axy. 

MASONIC  ADDRESS. 

The  following  address  wmF  delivered  at  a 
erand  visitation)  A.  L.  5807,  by  the  Rev. 
James  Milvori  then  grand  master  of 
Masons  in  Pennsylvania ;  but  now  grand 
chaplain  to  the  g;rand  lodge  of  the  state 
of  New- York. 

Worshipful  Master  J  OjficerSy  and 
*  Brethren  J 

As  the  representatives  of  that  digni- 
fied body  to  which  you  owe  your  ex- 
istence as  a  lodge  of  Masons,  we  come 
to  pay  you  our  annual  and  fraternal 
salutations.  We  are  not  more  strong- 
ly prompted  to  the  performance  of 
this  service,  by  the  duty  we  owe  the 
R.  W.  G,  lodge  in  the  various  offices 
we  fill,  than  by  our  own  inclinatious ; 
for  to  persons  interested,  as  we  are,  in 
the  prosperity  of  the  craft,  what  can 
be  more  gratifying  than  to  pursue  and 
survey  its  varied  operations  in  the 
several  departments  of  the  institution, 
from  the  unsi^iiful,  but  well  intended 
exertions  of  the  diffident  apprentice, 


56 


MASONIC. 


to  the  maturer  efforts  of  the  uddustri- 
ous  fellbw  craft ;  from  thence,  to  the 
sublimer  performances  of  the  expert 
master  workman  ;  and  finally,  to  that 
perfect  conclasion  of  the  whole  sys- 
tem to  be  found  in  the  exalted  degree 
of  our  order  represented  here,  by  the 
deputation  with  which  I  am  honour- 
ed, from  our  most  holy  grand  royal 
arch  chapter  ? 

What  can  be  more  gratifying  than 
these  things  ?  Nothing,  my  brethren, 
if  we  have  the  pleasure  to  see  you  sev- 
erally engaged  with  zeal  and  alacrity, 
ful61ling  the  obligations  of  your  seve- 
ral stations,  to  your  own  honour,  and 
the  advantage  of  the  institution  which 
has  adopted  you  as  its  members. 

I  say  fulfilling  the  duties  of  your 
different  stations  ;  for  perhaps,  no  er- 
ror is  more  common  in  our  society, 
than  the  promotion  of  brethren  to  the 
highest  honours  of  the  lodge,  before 
they  have  acquired  that  superior 
knowledge  of  the  work  of  the  craft, 
which,  connected  with  the  merit  of  a 
good  personal  character  for  sobriety, 
integrity,  and  industry,  both  in  and 
out  of  lodge,  ought  alone  to  entitle  any 
brother  to  expect  them.  It  becomes 
me  to  say,  that  I  fi>rcibly  feel  in  my 
own  person,  the  force  of  this  observa- 
tion. Raised  bv  the  favour  of  my 
brethren  to  this  high  station,  without 
the  years,  experience,  or  leisure  to  ac- 
quire knowledge,  which  would  give  it 
dignity,  and  weight,  and  usefulness, 
while  I  look  back  with  veneration  and 
res[)ect  to  my  aged  and  honoured  pre- 
decessors, I  look  forward  ahnost  with 
despondency.  Yet  I  have  the  satis- 
faction X6  believe,  that  the  same  kind- 
ness, which  has  prematurely  thrown 
upon  me  the  responsibility  of  a  situa- 
tion so  far  above  my  merits,  will  like- 
wise aid  me  in  the  discharge  of  its 
arduous  duties.  Thus  assisted,  my 
administration  may  be  rendered  not 
wholly  useless :  without  such  support, 
little  would  be  my  dependence  on  any 
labours  of  my  own.  A  nd  let  me  press 
it  upon  you,  as  applicable  to  my  case 
98  well  as  others,  that  whenever  liie 


choice  of  the  bod/  for  any  particular 
office  has  fallen  apon  a  brother,  wfco 
has  modesty  enough  to  feel  his  own 
insufficiency,  let  his  difficulties  be  les- 
sened by  the  earnest  and  ingenuous 
co-operation  and  aid  of  all  who  hav€ 
contributed  to  his  advancement. 

To  prize  as  we  ought  the  impor- 
tance of  these  stations,  we  must  have 
proper  conceptions  of  the  dignity  and 
excellence  of  the  institution  itself. 
And  what  institution  can  be  more  dig- 
nified, than  one  which  travels  not  back 
a  few  centuries  for  the  commence- 
ment of  its  existence,  but  whose  origin 
is  lost  in  the  remotest  antiquity ; 
which  has  extended  its  ramifications 
into  every  part  of  the  civilized  world, 
and  has  boasted,  as  its  patrons,  the 
wisest  statesmen,  the  bravest  heroest, 
and  the  most  generous  benefactors  of 
the  human  race,  from  our  ancient 
grand  master  Solomon,  down  to  Amer^ 
ica's  best  friend,  our  beloved  and  la- 
mented Washington?  What  institu- 
tion can  be  more  excellent  than  one 
which  inculcates  piety  towards  God^ 
love  towards  man,  morality  and  jus-^ 
tice  in  all  our  actions,  and  kindness 
and  charity  towards  those  of  our  fel- 
low-creatures, from  whom  fortune  has 
withdrawn  her  smiles,  and  who,  with- 
out our  support,  would  be  compelled 
still  to  wander  on  the  barren  wilds  of 
adversity  and  want. 

But  I  am  not  now,  brethren,  to  pro- 
nounce the  eulogy  of  our  order,  lour 
feelings  anticipate  all  my  praises :  and 
I  fear,  that  my  feeble  voice  would  di- 
minbh  rather  than  exalt  its  worth. 

Let  me  therefore  decline  the  at- 
tempt, and  assume  the  humble  task  of 
adverting,  for  a  few  moments,  to  some 
particulars,  which  my  official  duty 
calls  upon  me  to  notice. 

I  have  ^anced  at  the  important  ob- 
ject of  care  in  the  judicious  sdectioii 
of  the  officers  of  the  lodge.  I  must 
now  urge,  as  no  less  important,  the 
exercise  of  great  caution  in  the  admis- 
sion of  new  members.  How  has  the 
craft  been  disgraced  by  inattention  in 
this  partial  in  some  of  w  lodges  f 

igitize     y  g 


MAaOKIC. 


57 


Have  tbey  beoi  se  w»ioHwMe  m  to 
introduce  among  theqaselves  a  maa  of 
passiouaad  resenliaeot?  how  c^uickly 
bave  bis  iiBbridled  feelings  involved 
the  ]od£e  in  turmoil  and  coniiisioB? 
b  a  maa  dishooest  in  kis  priaeiples, 
aad  unjuat  ia  bis  dealings  ?  be  degrades 
ibe  iMsiicutioii  in  the  eyes  of  the  world 
to  bis  owtt  lively  and  practices  his  dis- 
honesty  Bmd  injustice  upon  bis  unsus- 
pecting brethren.  Is  be  iiiteaiperate 
labis  habits  ?  the  social  and  moderate 
refreshnaeat  which  we  allow,  when 
d^labours  of  tiie  lodge  are  completed^ 
he  perverts  to  the  injury  of  his  consti- 
tution, the  bad  example  of  others,  the 
lij^ust  of  all  sober  brethren,  and  the 
degradatioB  of  the  craft.  Is  he  a  re- 
Vikr  of  that  holy  religion  on  which  we 
depend  for  all  our  sanctions  in  the 
lodge  belowy  and  our  hopes  of  an  en^ 
trance  into  the  lodge  above  the  skies  ? 
where  then  is  your  security  for  bis 
£utbfiilness?  and  what  will  be  said  of 
the  pretensions  of  a  society  of  such 
men,  to  the  character  which  ours 
boasts,  of  being  founded  on  the  corner 
atone  of  religion. 

My  brethren,  while  we  disclaim 
lank  and  fortune  as  criterions  of  ad- 
mission to  our  mysteries,  let  us  tyle 
otB-  doon  witb  the  utmost  sedolous- 
aess  a^inst  unworthy  candidates;  and 
let  us  rather  for  the  general  good, 
ofiend  a  weak  brother,  whose  mista- 
ken partiality  induces  him  to  recom- 
mend such  characters,  than  by  a  con- 
trary course  destroy  the  beauty  of  the 
Mge. 

A  careful  preservation  of  the  funds 
of  the  lodge  by  avoiding  unnecessary 
expenditure,  and  devoting  them  to  the 
jfCDper  objects  of  the  institution,  .a 
ponctaal  discharge  of  the  dues  on  the 
part  of  each  member,  so  that  the  lodge 
■ttj  also  be  enabled  to  satisfy  with- 
out dday  the  claims  of  the  grand 
lodge, 4be  keeping  of  fair  and  accurate 
Miates  of  year  transactions,  and  ma- 
h^ig  regular  semi-annual  returns  to  the 
aK|ierior  body,  are  dtities  of  so  obvious 
anatufe,  and  have  been  in  general  so 
veil   attended  to,  that  I  barely  men- 


fl 


I  tfuit^  I  sMl  not  be  constd^ed  as 
having  reference  to  any  lodge  in  par- 
ticular, if  1  do  not  pass  quite  so  light- 
ly over  another  curcumstaace :  I  mean 
order  and  decorum  in  the  lodge.  How 
have  I  seen  the  beauty  of  our  work 
sullied  by  a  want  of  deference  and  re* 
spect  to  the  presiding  officers,  by  un- 
guarded aud  heated  expressions,  by  a 
restlesa  change  of  place,  by  continual 
wbispersy  by  needlessly  going  out  of 
and  returning  into  lodge,  by  unseason- 
able atteacbnce,  and  by  a  want  of  re- 
verence during  thet  most  awful  and 
solemn  rites !  These  faults  are  by  no 
means  universal  amongst  us ;  but  they 
do, exist;  and  I  trust  my  respected 
friends  who  now  hear  me  (wiiile  1  as- 
sure them  the  picture  in  the  extent 
portrayed  is  not  intended  for  them) 
will  ingenuously  acknowledge  and  a- 
mend  any  particular  feature  that  may 
apply. 

Permit  me,  without  any  knowledge 
of  the  practice  of  tliis  lodge  in  parti- 
cular, to  mention  as  a  matter  of  »ome 
concern,  a  usage  which  has  prevailed 
of  allowing  refreshment  in  the  adjoin- 
ing room  before  the  business  of  the 
ewoing  has  closed.  The  almost  cer- 
tain consequence  of  this  is  irregularity 
and  disorder;  and* I  therefore  confi- 
deatly  trust,  that  my  affectionate  but 
urgent  request^  for  its  t^)tal  discontinu- 
ance, will  not  be  taken  in  ill  part  by 
the  brethren,  nor  their  compliance  be 
refused. 

The  general  good  order,  harmony 
and  social  enjoyment,  that  universal ty 
prevail  during  [he  proper  and  allotted 
season  of  refreshment,  increase  the 
delights  of  our  association;  and  these 
indulgencies  are,  in  my  view,  innocent 
and  useful :  but  for  the  purpose  of 
rendering  this  pleasing  sweetener  of 
oar  laboturs  more  truly  Masonic,  I  re- 
commend the  opening  on  these  occa- 
sions of  a  table  lodge,  which  it  should 
be  the  duty  of  the  mastel*  to  close  at 
ai)  early  and  seasonable  hour;  and 
after  which,  no  brother  should  be  per- 
mitted to  continue  the  re|>ast.  I  fear 
instances  have  existed  wherein  the 

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58 


VAsomc. 


neglect  of  the  recomni^idalton  £ow  U 
given  has  contributed  to  bring  otir  so- 
ciety under  evil  impatati<Hia.  God 
forbid  that  so  Adr  a  fabric  as  that  of 
Masonry,  should  ever  become  the  tem- 
ple of  intemperance  and  excess ! 

After  thus  complying  with  a  sense 
of  duty  by  an  undisguised  exposure  of 
my  sentiments,  in  which  I  am  happy 
to  have  the  approbation  and  concur- 
rence of  all  my  worthy  assistants  in 
this  visitation,  I  eondude  with  no- 
ticing an  object  of  as  great  importance 
as  can  engage  our  attention.  I  allude 
to  the  more  immediate  work  of  the 
craft.  In  this  there  is  not  a  sufficient 
uniformity  among  the  different  lodges, 
nor,  on  the  part  of  some  masters,  a 
competent  portion  of  correctness  and 
skill.  What  is  the  occasion  of  this  ? 
Is  it  neglect  and  indolence  on  the  part 
of  those,  whose  exalted  and  responsi- 
ble stations  should  excite  them  to 
every  possible  exertion  to  become 
bright  and  perfect  examples  to,  and 
instructers  of  others  ?  Not  so.  The 
truth  is,  one  bad  workman  will  make 
many;  and  an  incorrect  administra- 
tion of  our  solemnities,  copied  in  suc- 
cession by  one  master  from  another, 
affords  no  prospect  of  amendment; 
but,  on  the  contrary^  every  step  leads 
to  still  greater  error  and  deterioratioo. 
There  are  few  correct  lecturers  among 
us :  there  is  then  a  want  of  the  means 
of  information.  Tbn  is  a  radical  evil ; 
and  how  is  it  to  be  remedied  ? 

1  see,  at  present,  no  other  mode  than 
the  establishment  of  a  grand  lecturing 
lodge,  composed  of  the  grand  officers 
and  officei*s,  for  the  time  being,  of  the 
several  subordinate  lodges.  This 
would  at  least  promise  uniformity; 
and  I  hope  that  tliere  would  be  found 
some  individuals,  whose  superior  ta- 
lents in  this  important  branch  of  Ma- 
sonic science  might  be  essentially  ser- 
viceable to  others.  At  all  events, 
there  would  be  a  pr6bability  of  con- 
centrating in  this  body,  and  thence 
umversally  diffusing,  all  the  Masonic 
light  our  sev^  lodges  possess.  If 
tte  seasoa  should  now  be  considered 


as  too  6r  advanced  to  begin  this  #orky 
I  recomsiend  it  to  the  attention  of  the 
brethren,  as  a  measore  which  may  be 
matured  so  as  to  go  into  operation  the 
ensuing  autumn. 

I  have  trespassed  thus  long  opoa 
your  patience,  brethren,  onder  a  hope 
of  being  able  to  awaken  your  attenticm 
to  some  matters  which  I  consider  of 
importance.  Should  you  difler  from 
me  on  all  or  any  of  them,  I  can  enly 
say,  that  I  have  performed  my  con- 
scientious duty  in  suggesting  them  for 
your  consideration,  it  is  your  right 
to  judge  of  them;  and  I  pray  the  Su- 
preme Grand  Master  to  teach  you  and 
me  to  judge  aright. 

Before  I  sit  down,  let  me  congratu- 
late you  on  the  general  prosperity  of 
the  craft,  and  particularly  of  that  por- 
tion of  it,  which  is  more  immediately 
under  the  jurisdiction  of  the  grand 
lodge  of  Pennsylvania.  Much  hamno- 
ny  prevails  among  the  brethren ;  noa- 
ny  valuable  accessions  have  been 
Blade  of  such  as  walk  worthy  of  their 
vocatioki ;  and  under  the  auspices  of 
the  Grand  Architect  of  the  Universe^ 
we  haVe  reason  to  hope,  that  the  use- 
fulness and  respectability  of  our  insti- 
tution will  continue  to  increase.  May 
it  advance  in  wisdom,  strength,  and 
beauty,  till  time  itself  shall  merge  in- 
to eternity ! 

MASONIC  PRECEPTS. 
From  the  German. 

Adore  the  Most  High,  by  whose 
'  order  every  thine  which  exists  had  its 
origin,  and  by  whose  unremitting  ope- 
rations every  thing  is  preserved. 

Every  Free  Mason,  without  anj 
consideration  to  what  religious  deno- 
mination he  belongs,  where  he  is  boniy 
or  what  rank  he  holds,  is  thy  brothor, 
and  has  a  claim  upon  thee  for  assist- 
ance, when  he  stands  in  need  of  it. 

Often  unveil  and  examine  thy  heait, 
so  that  thou  mayest  discover  its  most 
secret  dispositions;  for  the  knowled^ 
of  one's  self  is  tlw  sum  of  all  Masomc 
precepts.   3ig,,,,  by  Google 


MASOm^. 


59 


JIASOmC  P3ALM. 

do  wiagv  of  harmoDT  upbornei 
Wide  flew  the  exuftins  sound ; 

ianiekms  beam'd  the  festal  morn 
Tbat  cail'd  the  tribes  around. 

To  Sa]eiii*8  favoiir*d  towers  and  |}lfldns 

Tbe  bands  fraternal  move ; 
fier  shores  repeat  the  solemn  ftrainji 

That  swell  to  peace  and  love. 

fwr  o'er  these  plaros  tbe  admiring  eyes 

See  opulence  spread  wide ; 
While  toil  its  best  exertion  jplies 

To  o'er- arch  the  floent  tide. 

Ob  tbe  fair  work  now  Science  beams^ 
DesoendiDg  powers  approve ; 

Wfl  waft  across  the  honoor'd  streams 
Hm  sttaliis  of  peace  and  love. 


MASONIC  HTBIN. 

Grand  Master!  most  sublime ! 
Hich  tfaron*d  in  ^ory's  radiant  clime ; 
Be£^  thj  sons,  on  bended  knee, 
Guiven'd>  O  God !  to  worship  Thee ! 

Aad  as  lis  thine  with  open  ear, 
The  snppUant  voice  of  firajrer  to  hear ; 
QrsBt  thoQ,  O  Lord !  this  one  request, 
Ut  Masons  be,  in  blessing,  Uest 


0  pve  the  craft,  irofli  pole  to  pole, 
I     The  leeling  heart,  the  pitying  soul, 
The  g^*roas  breast,  tne  Ub'ral  hand, 
CoBupnssioB's  balm,  and  mercy's  band ; 

With  Charity,  that  pours  around 
Hk  wine  and  oil,  on  mis*Ty's  wound ! 
And  heals  the  widow's,  orphan's  heart, 
Deep  piere'd  by  sorrow's  venom'd  dart. 

Then  to  thy  throne  the  craft  shall  raise 
One  deathless  song  of  flratefiil  praise ; 
And  Masons,  men,  in  cnorus  join, 
To  hyvin  tbe  pow'r  of  Love  divine. 

IWt  Love  supreme,  thy  Love,  O  God ! 
WUeh  fleuiv'n  itself  shall  pour  abroad ; 
T9  Light,  Life,  Peace,  adorn  the  vale, 
And  aiigels>  men,  pronounce,  all  hail ! 


ELEGANT  BIASONIC  SONG. 

WW  TBB  B.   W.  B£V.  T.  V.  BARRIS. 

TIs  ahnost  high  noon. 
And  our  labour  may  soon 

1b  id  Tarioos  toils  be  suspended, 
And  the  Grand  Master's  call, 
Shall  announce  to  us  all, 

That  with  joy  onr  refreshment  is  blended. 

Bat  ere  we  have  done, 
iAit  OS  look  at  the  Son, 
ikid  adnife  his  meridian  beauty; 


Tis  a  roost  cheerhir  sidtt, 
Pure,  glorious,  and  oright, 
Enlightening  and  prompting  to  duty. 

We  rejoice  !n  the  day, 
And  wish  stUl  to  display 

The  effects  of  fair  wisdom  and  kindness  ^ 
And  pity  the  pl^jht 
Of  those  who  have  liriit, 

Yet  wilfully  grope  in  their  Imndness. 

With  hidostiy  still. 

And  with  seal  and  good  wiD, 
Let  us  work  for  ourselves  and  for  others^ 

Free,  accepted,  and  true. 

What  is  worthy  pursue, 
As  becomes  a  firm  bana  of  good  brotheivi 

Sowhenatthelasty 

Our  davs  are  all  past, 
Apd  the  mandate  to  rest  shall  be  ^ven, 

Wc  all  may  be  fit 

These  labours  to  quit* 
To  be  oall'd  to  refreshment  hi  H«avecb 

Be  it  then  our  delight 

Hand  in  hand  to  unite, 
Of  trve  lovey  and  of  help  the  sura  token  > 

That,  ascending  the  skies. 

Hand  in  hand  we  mav  rise, 
And  our  union  continue  unbroken. 


The  fonowUigM^soinc  One,  Is  Uiserted 
at  the  request  of  a  number  of  our  worthy 
brothers,  of  Gerxah  Ubioii  Lonosy  where 
it  is  occasionally  sung. 

AM  UHRSt AGE  DER  EINWEIHI7NO. 

Last  uns  ihr  Bruder 

Weisheit  erbohn ! 
Singet  ihr  Licder, 

Feurig  and  schon. 

Maurer  Euch  bindet 

Heili^  pilight ! 
Sucbet  ihr  findet. 

Wahrheit  and  Licht. 

Lachet  der  Thoren 

Die  Weisheit  sraahn, 
Wir  siiid  Erkohren : 

Wahrheit  zu  sehn. 

Gotten  der  Erden 
Fliehen  den  Throhn ! 

Maurer!  zu  werden, 
1st  ihren  Lohn. 

Ihr  die  zu  Sohnen 

Weisheit  erkohr, 
Weinenden  szenen  ; 

Leihet  das  Ohr. 

Menscheo  begtdcket 
Lebrt  uns  natur. 


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60 


CJfiOOlUinUGAL. 


FoUt  nut  EntBokeni 
Mieiurer  der  spur. 

Thranen  Vcrwandlen 
Id  beutern  Blick,, 

Gottlieb  8U  bandlen, 
Dis  sey  eur  Gluck. 

Stralilen  zu  borgen 
Breucben  wir  nicbt. 

Cos  leucbt  vom  Morgen  ; 
Gottliches  Licbt. 

£a  leucbt  uns  wieder, 
Bis  in  die  Graft ; 

Wo  uiM  Gott  wiederi 
Scbopferiicb  Ruft 


GEOGRAPHICAL^ 

THE  rSLAND  OF  MADEIRA. 

The  climate  of  this  island  is  stated, 
in  a  late  English  publication,  to  be  ex- 
cellent, behig  between  the  extremes  of 
heat  and  cold ;  and  a  soil  producing 
the  fruits  of  the  earth,  with  very  little 
cultivation  by  the  inhabitants,  who  are 
represented  to  be  very  negligent.  Be* 
sides  almost  every  kind  of  European 
vegetable,  the  most  delicious  fruits  are 
very  abundant. 

The  hills  are  cav^red  with  very 
large  chestnut  and  walnut  trees ;  the 
former  prorlucing  the  finest  fruit  of  its 
kind  in  the  world,  and  forming  one 
source  of  sustenance  to  the  hardy 
peasantry. 

7'he  island  is  formed  of  one  im- 
mense hill,  or  mountain,  runnhig  from 
east  to  west,  affording  views  beauti- 
fully romantic,  abounding  with  fine 
springs  of  the  purest  water  in  the 
univei'se ;  while  verdure  and  fertility 
cover  the  most  unpromising  situations. 
Pico  Kuivo  is  five  thousand  one  hun- 
dred feet  high. 

The  city  of  Funchal  is  very  delight- 
fully situated  at  the  foot  of  this  lofty 
range  of  nuMintains,  on  the  south  side 
of  the  island ;  which  forms  a  kind  of 
amphitheatre,  and  has  a  beautiful  ap- 
pearance from  the  shipping  as  you  ap- 
proach it,  the  environs  abounding  with 
vineyards,  generally  in  the  most  lux- 
uriant state ;  and  in  the  midst  of  the 
green  foilage  of  ihe  vine,  orange,  lem- 


on, pomegranate,  banaonas,  myitle, 
cypress,  cedar,  &:c.,  are  oimiierous  vil- 
las belonging  to  the  native  gentry,  or 
to  the  British  merchants,  which,  being 
quite  white,  add  greatly  to  the  beauty 
of  the  scene. 

Funchal  is  the  emporium  of  the 
bland ;  it  contains  about  twenty  thou- 
sand inhabitants,  (the  population  of 
the  whole  island  is  one  nundred  thou- 
sand souls,)  and  is  the  residence  of  a 
governor,  bishop,  corrigidor,  juis  da 
foro,  and  other  public  functionaries. 
It  is  a  very  irregular  built  town ;  the 
street*  are  generally  narrow  and  crook- 
ed, having  no  foot-paths,  and  are  bad- 
Iv  paved ;  but  it  is  quite  the  reverse  of 
Lisbon,  being  extremely  clean.  The 
old  houses  are  ill  built ;  but  they  have 
lately  much  improved  in  architeeture; 
for  the  modem  buildings  are  generally 
handsome,  and  are  invariably  buUt 
with  stone,  plastered  over  and  white- 
washed :  most  of  the  houses  of  the  gen- 
try are  stuccoed  inside,  many  of  them 
are  very  elegant,  and  they  are  lor  the 
most  part,  handsomely  furnished  in  the 
English  style. 

The  residence  of  the  governor  is 
oalled  the  palace  of  Fort  St.  Lawrence ; 
it  is  a  large  ancient  buildtng :  a  iew 
years  since,  it  was  greatly  improved 
by  the  addition  of  a  new  suit  of  apart- 
ments, which  are  elegant  and  Commo- 
dious, built  under  the  direction  of  an 
English  gentleman. 

There  are  in  Funchal  several  hand- 
some churches,  the  altar  pieces  of 
which  are  highly  ornamented  with 
paintings,  silver  lamps,  and  railings, 
together  with  richly  carved  and^giH 
figures,  &c. 

There  are,  on  the  island,  about 
twelve  hundred  secular  priests;  gov- 
erned by  a  dean  and  chapter,  wmk  a 
bishop  at  their  head. 

Funchal  towards  the  sea-side,  is 
protected  by  a  parapet  wall,  properiy 
called  the  musketry  parapet ;  the  for- 
tifications consist  of  a  castle  erected 
upon  a  steep  rock,  on  the  west  side  of 
the  harbour,  and  is  within  a  few  yards 
of  the  shore;  k  is  very  ancient)  aod 

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GEOeAAPmCAL. 


61 


nounls  nine  ginu  of  d*rfferent  ealibre. 
This  fort  retoras  the  salute  of  the  dif- 
ferent vessds  of  war  ancboriog  in  the 
nnds ;  and  the  castle  serves  for  a  state 
prisoo. 

There  bone  small  T^table  and 
frait  market,  hot  the  cattle,  beef  and 
Ub  markets,  are  miserable. 

The  prisoDs  are  ill  constructed,  badly 
governed,  and  insecure.  They  are 
altogether  a  disgrace  to  the  island. 

AU  the  towi»  and  villages,  of  which 
there  are  several,  are  invariably  stta- 
aled  on  the  sea  coast. 

The  country  is  too  uneven  for 
wheel  carriages,  except  just  in  the 
town  and  its  vicinity;  the  mode  of 
traveUing,  therefore,  is  on  horseback, 
or  on  mules,  and  in  palanquins  or 
baaunocks. 

The  oative  inhabitants  of  Madeira, 
are  commonly  of  a  middling  stature, 
wdl  limbed,  and  of  a  darker  complex- 
ioii  than  the  inhabitants  of  the  cold- 
er climates  of  Europe,  possessing  a 
warmth  of  feding  with  moie  volatile 
hoiBour  than  is  u»ial  in  the  phlegmat- 
ic consthntions  of  people  of  more 
Bostheni  coimfries;  they  are  courte- 
008  ht  their  dispositions,  and  are  very 
polite  ia  thm  manaers  among  them- 
sdvet,  aa  well  as  towards  strangers. 
The  females  display  great  taste  in 
adonnng  their  hair,  the  blackness  of 
wlridi  corresponds  with  their  dark 
expressive  eyes,  and  gives  them  a 
iwry  iaterestiag  appearance ;  they  are 
^Biost  univeRAlly  distinguished  for 
the  whiteness  of  their  teeth,  the  smali- 
aess  of  their  feet,  and  their  finely 
torned  ancles. 

The  convulsed  state  of  Europe,  for 
so  many  years,  occasioned  such  an  in- 
creased demand  for  the  wines  of  Ma- 
4Pb,  that  they  have,  in  consequence, 
advanced  to  nearly  treble  the  price 
at  which  they  were  sold  at  the  com- 
■lencement  of  the  French  revolution. 
The  cause  b  removed,  but  the  effect 
is  still  continued,  by  the  impolicy  of 
the  British  merchuits,  who  out-bid 
<ai^  uber  io  their  purchases  from  the 
bad  fvoprioton  a&d  wia^e  jobbers: 


this  rise  in  the  price  of  wkie  has  pro- 
duced an  increase  of  income  to  tlie 
landholders,  and  thus,  (to  use  the  ian% 
guage  of  one  of  their  own  writers) 
many  now  live  in  splendour,  whose 
parents  were  content  whh  the  simple 
manners  of  their  neighbours  on  the 
opposite  coast  of  BarlMU'y.  Both  sex- 
es dress  now  in  the  highest  style  of 
English  fashion;  while  most  of  the 
principal  families  have  their  card  and 
music  parties,  rputs,  balls,  &c. 

There  is  no  imprisonment  for  debt, 
and  condign  punbbment  is  never  in- 
flicted in  Madeira;  for  certain  crimes 
the  criminal  is  sometimes  banished  to 
the  Cape  de  Verds,  and  when  the 
crime  b  death,  according  to  the  Portu- 
guese law,  the  felon  is  sent  prisoner 
to  Lisbon,  there  to  await  his  ^te. 

Many  of  the  natives  are  possessed 
of  a  turn  for  poetry,  and  almost  the 
whole  of  them  are  rhymesters. 

The  blanders  have  a  great  taste 
for  music,  and  are  very  graceful  dan- 
cers. 

The  highest  gratifications  of  the  na- 
tives, are  the  church  festivals,  and  re* 
iigious  processions;  their  avidity  for 
these  spectacles  b  so  great,  that  they 
come  from  all  parts  of  the  island  to 
see  them;  although  it  is  constantly 
a  repetition  of  the  same  thing;  the 
streets  are  crowded  with  the  delighted 
multitude,  and  the  windows  of  the 
houses  filled  with  the  sennoras,  who 
assemble  there  full  dressed,  to  see  and 
be  seen. 

It  is  the  custom  to  bury  their  dead 
within  twenty-four  hours  after  their 
demise;  they  carry  the  body  in  an 
open  bier,  to  the  place  of  interment, 
with  the  face  and  arms  exposed  to 
full  view,  attended  by  a  concourse  of 
priests  and  friars,  chaunting  a  funeral 
dirge  (that  is,  when  Ibe  deceased 
leaves  money  to  pay  for  it,  otherwise, 
no  penny,  no  pater-noster;)  then  fol- 
low the  friends  of  the  departed,  and  a 
motley  tribe  of  beggars  bearing  light- 
ed torches,  although  it  should  be  at 
mid^day.  When  the  body  is  consign- 
ed to  tbo  grave,  a  quantity  of  lime  and 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


HEOGRArUlCkh. 


Tin^ar  is  throw  in  to  coosmne  it,  in 
order  to  make  room  for  others,  as  they 
always  bury  within  the  church.  Rela- 
tives do  not  accompany  the  funerals, 
being  supposed  to  be  too  much  affect- 
ed by  their  loss.  Widows  of  rank  do 
not  cross  the  threshold  for  twelve 
months  after  the  death  of  their  Caro 
Sposos. 

(Continued  in  page  100.) 


For  the  Masohic  Uzgistkiu 
LENOX  ACADEMY. 

Lenox  Academy  is  situated  in  the 
town  of  Lenox,  in  the  county  of  Berk- 
shire, Massachusetts.  The  courts  for 
the  county  are  there  held.  It  is  a 
pleasant  village,  mcreasiug  in  wealth 
and  population.  It  lies  about  thirty 
miles  from  Albany,  and  as  far  from 
Hudson.  The  state  of  society,  among 
the  chizens,  as  to  religion,  manners, 
and  morals,  is  good  and  exemplary. 
The  village  is  built  on  elevated  ground, 
and  is  a  remarkable  healthy  place. 

The  academy  stands  in  the  centre 
of  the  village,  and  is  a  substantial  and 
spacious  edifice,  with  two  large  rooms, 
and  a  convenient  hall  on  the  basement 
story,  and  one  room,  fifty  feet  by 
twenty  on  the  second,  with  a  stage  for 
declamation  and  public  speaking,  and 
two  smaller  rooins  for  select  students. 
It  was  erected  in  the  year  1801,  in- 
corpoi^ted  in  1803,  and  is  under  the 
government  of  fourteen  trustees,  se- 
lected from  the  clergymen  and  civil- 
ians of  the  vicinity,  by  the  act  of  in- 
corporation, half  a  township  of  land, 
in  the  district  of  f  laine,  was  placed  at 
the  disposal  of  the  trustees,  for  the  be- 
nefit of  the  institution ;  but  which  hc^s 
hitherto  been  unproductive,  and  the 
Academy  is  wholly  without  funds,  ex- 
cept from  voluntary  contribution. 

The  studies  pursued  in  the  school 
comprelfend  the  whole  circle  of  sci- 
ence. Beginning  with  English  gram- 
mar and  Arithmetic,  the  pupil  is  con- 
ducted through  the  Latin  and  Greek 
languages,  geography,  natoral  philos- 
ophy, logic,  rhetoric,  and  the  higher 


branches  of  the  mathematics,  iackid- 
ing  trigonometry,  plain  and  spherical 
conic  sections,  surveying,  navigation, 
algebra,  geometry,  astronomy,  &c.,  to- 
gether with  moral  philosophy,  and  the 
science  of  the  human  mind. 

There  are  two  terms  in  a  year,  of 
twenty-three  weeks  each,  succeeded 
by  a  vacation  of  three  weeks  respec- 
tively; the  summer  term  commences 
on  the  tenth  of  May,  and  the  wmter 
term  on  the  tenth  of  November.  Be- 
longing to  the  institution,  are  a  pair  of 
globes,  a  good  assortment  of  ancient 
and  modem  maps,  a  small  philosophic 
apparatus,  and  a  well  selected  and  in- 
creasing library. 

Composition  and  j>ublic  speaking 
are  frequent  exercises  in  the  Academy ; 
and  some  time  in  each  term,  usually 
in  Februaiy,  and  August,  there  b  a 
public  examination  of  the  scholars, 
concluded  by  the  recitation  of  various 
dialc^es,  and  single  pieces  in  prose 
and  verse. 

As  to  the  time  of  study,  it  rni^  be 
stated,  that  the  instructors  meet  some 
of  the  classes  by  appointment,  as  soon 
as  it  is  light  in  the  morning,  and  con- 
tinue to  hear  them  rec^ite  successivelv^ 
till  the  hour  of  breakfast.  At  ei^ 
o'clock  the  whole  school  assembles, 
and  continues  together  till  twelve« 
After  dinner  the  scholars  again  assem- 
ble at  two,  and  pursue  their  studies 
till  near  night,  when  they  are  dismiss- 
ed for  the  day,  if  in  the  summer  sea- 
son;  but  in  the  winter,  after  an  hour 
spent  at  supper,  the  evening  studies 
commence,  and  close  at  eight.  This 
course  may  seem  laborious  and  bur- 
densome, but  upon  trial  it  is  found 
otherwise;  the  whole  time  is  usefully 
employed,  and  none  is  left  for  idleness 
and  dissipation,  while  sufficient  leis^ 
is  allowed,  at  proper  intervals,  ^r 
such  exercise  as  is  conducive  to  health. 

Mr.  Levi  Glezen,  the  principal  of 
this  Academy,  after  completing  a  lib- 
eral education,  with  great  reputation, 
as  a  scholar,  began  the  business  of  in- 
struction, in  the  year  1798,  in  a  copi- 
mon  school,  aod  manifested  such  skill 

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OKOGRAPHTCAL. 


68 


and  industry,  diat  when  the  academy 
was  organised,  he  was  unanimously 
appointed  the  principal  instructor,  in 
midi  station  he  has  continued  ever 
smce,  with  distinguished  honour  to 
Inaself,  and  advantage  to  his  pnpils. 
From  the  banning,  be  has  b€«n  oc- 
casionaily  aided  by  an  assistant,  and 
ht  several  years  past  the  students 
have  been  so  numerous,  tliat  it  has 
been  necessary  to  employ  one  constant- 
ly, and  sometimes  another,  for  a  long- 
er or  shorter  term.  The  present  as- 
sistant is  Mr.  Isaac  Hills,  who  has 
lately  completed  his  collegiate  course, 
and  has  the  reputation  of  being  an  ac- 
complistied  scholar. 

The  students  of  this  academy  have 
mnally  finished  their  studies  in  some 
of  the  colleges  in  the  vicinity,  and  have 
feoerally  entered  in  the  sophromore, 
or  junior  classes ;  and  it  has  been  a 
common  remark,  that  the  scholars 
from  this  academy  have  been  more 
th<mN^hly  initiated  in  the  rudiments 
of  science,  than  those  generally  are 
who  receive  their  education  in  any 
odier  place.  Many  others,  who  are 
now  eminent  literary  characters,  be- 
gan and  finished  their  studies  here.  It 
is  but  stating  a  fact  to  say,  that  many 
yoeng  gentlemen,  who  at  this  time  do 
Mionr  to  our  country,  in  the  pulpit, 
ia  the  senate,  and  at  t^  bar,  laid  the 
faundatioa  of  their  honours  and  useful- 
ness, by  entering  on  their  scientific 
eoorse  at  tfab  school.  It  is  presumed 
tint  no  northern  institution  of.  the 
auofi  gjrside^  has  had  so  many  pupils 
from  die  mithem  part  of  the  Union, 
as  thb  Academy. 

The  rules  for  the  government  of 
dns  school,  are  few  and  simple,  yet 
exnGcit  and  intelligible.  They  regu- 
latetbe  behaviour  of  the  scholars,  du- 
ring the  l}our8  of  studv,  and  in  their 
imercoune  with  the  inhabitants.  The 
penalties  for  their  transgression  are 
trivial  in  themselves,  but  calculated  to 
eneomrage  a  sense  of  honour,  and  a  spi- 
rit of  laudable  emulation,  rather  than 
to  excite  shame,  and  depress  the  am- 
I  of  the  delinquent    Every  scho- 


lar, at  his  entering  this  school,  is  pre- 
sented with  a  copy  of  these  rules,  and 
a  promise  of  implicit  obedience  to 
their  requirements  is  exacted  of  him ; 
and  such  have  been  the  wisdom,  the 
prudence,  and  .the  authority  of  tht 
governors  of  the  institution,  that  sel- 
dom has  any  penalty  been  exacted, 
and  only  a  single  instance  of  expulsion 
has  occurred. 

In  justice  to  Mr.  Oleeen,  it  will  be 
proper  to  observe,  tlNit  from  his  intui- 
tive judgment,  jomed  to  great  discrim- 
ination, and  aided  by  long  experience, 
he  readily  accommodates  himself  to 
the  genius,  the  temper,  and  disposi- 
tion of  his  pupil,  both  in  instruction 
and  government,  in  a  manner  highly 
pleasing  and  successful.  In  this  par- 
ticular he  is  justly  considered  to  excel. 
In  a  word,  it  is;often  remarked,  as  well 
by  gentlemen  of  extensive  erudition, 
who  have  visited  this  academy,  as  by 
the  community  in  general,  that  its 
character,  as  a  school  for  initiatii^ 
youth  in  the  first  principles  of  science, 
holds  a  high  rank  among  similar  insti- 
tutions in  this  country. 

The  price  for  tuition  in  the  English 
language,  and  arithmetic,  b  from  three 
to  four  dollars  for  a  quarter,  and  from 
fou^  to  five  dollars  in  the  learned  lan- 
guages, and  the  higher  branches  of 
science.  Board  varies  according  to 
the  price  of  provision,  but  for  some 
time  past  it  has  been  established  at 
two  dollars  a  week  in  the  village,  in- 
cluding washing,  lodging,  and  room- 
rent,  and  for  less  at  a  small  dbtance. 
Each  scholar,  at  his  entrance,  pays 
twenty-five  cents  for  the  use  of  the  li- 
brary, and  the  same  sum  annually. 

Ine  number  of  students  in  the  acad- 
emy varies  from  sixty,  to  one  hundred 
and  twenty.  The  whole  number  who 
have  been  enrolled  as  students,  since 
its  incorporation,  is  about  fifteen  hun- 
dred. £.  Lu 

DESCRIPTION  OF  CAIRO. 
The  houses  in  the  city  of  Cairo  are 
not  equal  in  elegance  to  those  of  the 
large  cities   of  Europe;    and  their 

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64 


HISTOEICAL. 


Streets  are  crooked,  narrow,  and  un- 
pa%'ed ;  their  squares  are  large  trregu- 
iar  places,  destitute  of  embellishment ; 
during  the  inundation  of  the  iSile,  they 
are  chiefly  pools  of  water,  and  they 
become  fields  or  fasdens  when  the 
river  has  retired.  The  city,  which  is 
considerably  more  ua  length  than  in 
breadth,  covers  a  space  of  eight  or  nine 
miles.  Its  population,  consisting  of 
Turks,  Arabs,  Moors,  Copts,  Syrians, 
Greeks,  Jews,  and  Europeans,  is  esti- 
mated at  four  hundred  thousand.  In- 
habitants of  the  winged  race  also  take 
up  their  abode  m  Cairo;  kites  and 
crows  living  on  the  terraces  of  the 
houses  in  perfect  security,  adding  their 
screams  and  croakings  to  the  tumult 
of  the  restless  populace.  The  prowl- 
ing vulture  increases  the  group  of  this 
singular  society  :  the  plaintive  and 
amorous  turtle,  having  nothing  to  dread 
from  the  talons  of  these  devourers,  or 
from  the  guns  of  the  inhabitants,  enters 
their  dwellings  without  fear,  giving 
them  practical  lessons  of  love  and 
tenderness,  in  the  caresses  and  atten- 
tion of  domestic  happiness. 


HISTX)RICAL. 

TflE  INFLEXIBLE  FATHER. 

In  the  year  1526,  James  Lynch 
Fitz-Stepheu,  merchant,  being  elected 
mayor  of  Galway,  in  Ireland,  sent  his 
only  son  commander  of  one  of  his 
ships,  to  Bilboa  in  Spain,  for  a  cargo 
of  wine.  Former  dealings  at  this 
place  were  the  means  of  fecommend? 
ing  the  father's  credit,  whicli  young 
Lynch  took  advantage  of,  to  secrete 
the  money  for  his  own  use,  with  which 
his  father  entrusted  him  for  the  pur- 
chase of  the  cargo.  The  Spaniard, 
who  supplied  him  on  this  occasion, 
sent  his  nephew  with  him  to  Ireland, 
to  receive  the  debt,  and  establish  a 
further  correspondeoice.  The  young 
men  who  were  much  of  an  age,  "sailed 
together  with  that  8«%ming  satisfaction 
wliich  congenial  situations  generally 


create  among  mankind.  Open  iai 
generous,  the  Spaniard  anticipated  the 
pleasures  which  be  should  enjoy  with 
such  a  friend,  in  a  phice  then  remark- 
able for  qualities  which  we  are  now 
no  longer  to  look  for  but  in  the  narra- 
tive of  other  times.  The  ship  pro- 
ceeded on  her  voyage;  and  as  every 
day  must  bring  them  nearer  the  place 
of  destination,  and  discover  the  fraud 
intended  by  Lynch,  be  conceived  the 
diabolical  resolution  of  throwing  his 
friend  overboard.  After  sounding  the 
sentiments  of  the^nds  on  board,  he 
brought  the  majcV  part  of  them  over 
to  his  purpose,  by  promise  of  reward, 
and  the  rest  by  fear.  On  the  night  of 
the  fifth  day,  the  unfortunate  Spaniard 
was  violently  seized  in  his  bed,  and 
thrown  overboard.  A  few  days  more 
brought  them  to  port ;  his  father  ai)d 
friends  received  him  with  joy,  and  in 
a  short  time  bestowed  a  sufficient  cap- 
ital to  set  him  up  in  business.  Secu- 
rity had  now  lulled  every  apprehension 
of  danger;  and  he  proposed  himselJ 
to  a  beautiful  girl,  the  daughter  of  a 
neighbour,  in  marriage.  His  terms 
were  accepted,  and  the  day  appointed 
which  was  to  crown  bis  yet  successful 
villaay,  when  one  of  the  sailors,  who 
had  been  with  him  tn  the  voyage  to 
Spain,  was  taken  ill,  and  finding  him- 
self at  the  poitit  of  death,  sent  for  the 
father,  and  communicated  a  full  rela- 
tion of  the  horrid  deed  his  »on^^ 
committed  on  the  high  seas.  Tw 
father,  though  struck  ^P^^^^^J^ 
astonishment  and  grief,  at  length  shook 
ofi*  the  feelings  which  incline  the  pa*  j 
rent  to  natural  partiality.  *^Justic«^ 
shall  take  its  course,"  said  the  hwig* 
nant  magistrate ;  and  he,  within  a  k^ 
minutes,  had  his  son  seized,  with  tn 
rest  of  the  crew,  and  threw  them  wU 
prison.  They  all  confessed  the  crime 
a  criminal  process  was  made  ^ 
against  them ;  and  in  a  few  <**y*jj 
small  town  in  the  west  of  Ireland  M 
held  a  sight  parallelled  by  very  few  m 
stances  in  the  historj^of  mankind;^ 
father  sitting  in  judgment,  like  anoth' 


OISTOilfiAlt- 


65 


aiMy  tike  him  too^  coodBmaiog  faim  to 
die  as  a  sacrifice  to  publk  justice! 
**  Were  aoy  other  but  your  wretched 
&tber  your  judge  (said  the  inflexible 
na^tstrate)  I  might  have  dropped  a 
tear  over  my  child's  misfortunes,  and 
solicited  for  his  life,  though  stained 
with  ,n]nrder ;  but  you  must  die  ! — 
These  are  the  last  drops  which  shall 
^pieQch  the  sparks  of  nature ;  and  if 
jou  dare  hope,  implore  that  Heaven 
■ay  not  shut  the  gates  of  mercy  on 
tlje  destroyer  of  his  fellow-creature." 

He  was  led  back  to  prison,  rfnd  a 
skxt  time  appointed  for  his  execution. 
Amaxement  sat  on  the  face  of  every 
one  within  this  litrle  community, 
which  at  most  did  not  consis^t  of  more 
than  thre€  thousand  people.  The  re- 
lations of  the  unhappy  culprit  sur- 
roanded  the  father;  they  conjured 
him  by  all  the  solicitude  of  nature  and 
compassion  to  spare  his  son.  His 
wretched  mother,  whose  name  was 
Blake,  flew  in  distraction  to  the  heads 
of  her  OWD  family,  and  at  length  pre- 
vailed oo  them,  for  the  honour  of  their 
bouse,  to  rescue  her  from  the  igoomi- 
IV  his  death  must  bring  on  their  name. 
'ikey  anned  to  deliver  him  from  pri- 
soa ;  when  bis  father,  being  inlbrmed 
of  their  intention,  had  him  conveyed 
lo  his  own  house,  which  he  surround- 
ed  with  the  officers  of  justice.  He 
Bade  the  executioner  fasten  the  rope 
to  bb  neck :  ^'  You  have  Ihtle  time 
to  live,  my  son,"  said  he  5  "  let  the  care 
of  yoar  soul  employ  the  few  moments; 
lake  the  last  embh^e  of  your  unhappy 
tktber!" 

He  ordered  the  rope  to  bt  well  se- 
cored  to  a  window,  and  compelled  the 
coBrtables  to  throw  the  body  out ;  a 
kw  mtnutes  put  an  end  to  his  existence. 
Under  the  window,  in  Lombard-street, 
to  this  day,  a  skull  and  bones,  carved 
is  black  marble,  are  to  be  seen,  and 
which  the  father  put  up  as  a  memento 


Succeeding  times  looked  upon  an  act 
with  astonishment,  which  the  produc- 
tioa  <)f  the  arts  in  this  country  should 
pfrpeCoate  with  statues. 


ROMAN  ^OBCftECY. 
The  senators  of  anciem  Rome  had 
established  it  as  a  rule,  that  the  son 
of  each  member  might  be  admitted  to 
hear  the  debates;  a  practice,  which 
was  found  to  be  productive  of  great 
utility,  as  youth  were  thus  initiated 
into  the  principles  of  government,  en- 
abled to  become  good  statesmen,  and 
taught  the  truly  important  duty  of 
keeping  secrets. 

It  happened  upon  one  occasion,  that 
this  venerable  body  being  engaged  in 
the  discussion  of  a  subject  of  more^ 
than  usual  importance,  continued  their 
sitting  to  a  very  late  hour.  No  deci- 
sion, however,  took  place  on  that 
night,  and  the  body  was  adjourned 
till  the  following  day,  with  an  express 
injunction  of  secrecy.  Amongst  the 
other  young  Romans,  who  had  attend- 
ed at  this  interesting  debate,  was  the 
son  of  Papirius,  whose  family  was  one 
of  the  most  illustrious  in  Rome. 

The  young  man  having  come  home, 
his  niother,  with  that  curiosity  which 
is  natural  to  her  sex,  was  anxious  to 
ascertain  the  weighty  business,  which 
had  kept  the  senate  so  many  hours 
longer  in  session  than  usual.  He  told 
her  in  the  most  conrteous  manner,  that 
it  was  a  matter  which  it  was  not  in  his 
power  to  reveal,  as  he,  in  common  with 
others,  had  been  laid  under  the  most 
solemn  injunction  of  secrecy. 

His  refusal  made  her  more  impor* 
tunate,  and  nothing  short  of  the  infor- 
mation which  she  required  would  satis- 
fy  her.  By  caresses  and  liberal  pro- 
mises, she  endeavoured  to  extort  the 
secret ;  but  her  efforts  were  to  no  pur- 
pose, nor  was  she  more  successful  when 
she  resorted  to  blows. 

The  young  man,  6nding  a  mother's 
threats  to  be  very  unpleasant,  and  her 
stripes  still  more  so,  began  to  contrast 
the  love,  which  he  owed  to  her,  with 
the  duty  which  he  owed  to  his  father 
and  to  his  country.  He  placed  her 
and  her  insatiable  curiosity  in  one 
scale,  and  his  own  honour,  and  the 
solemn  injuiictTon  to  secrecy  in  the 
other,  when   he  found  her  intrinsic 

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66 


Historical. 


weight  lighter  ihafi  air;  but  io  order 
to  appease  b^r,  be  ini^eoted  the  follow- 
kig  ingenious  fiction. 

Dear  mother,  you  may  1*^11  blame 
the  senate  for  their  long  sitting,  at 
least  for  calling  in  question  a  case  so 
important:  for  except  the  wives  of 
senators  be  admitted  to  consult  there- 
on, there  can  be  no  hope  of  a  conclu-^ 
sion.  I  speak  this,  however,  with  dif- 
fidence, {IS  1  have  been  taught  that 
modesty  should  ever  be  a  distinguish- 
ing characteristic  of  a  young  man. 
When,  therefore  I  am^  in  the  presence 
of  the  seoate,  the  high  opinion,  which 
I  entertain  of  their  gravity  and  wis- 
dom, confound  me.  To  them,  how- 
ever, since  you  have  obliged  me  to  tell, 
h  seems  necessary  for  the  increase  of 
population,  and  for  the  public  good, 
that  every  senator  should  be  allowed 
to  have  two  wives,  or  that  their  wives 
should  have  two  husbands.  I  shall 
hardly,  under  one  roof,  call  two  men 
by  the  name  of  father,  but  had  rartier 
call  two  women  by  the  name  of  mo- 
ther. This  is  the  question,  which  has 
so  much  engrossed  the  attention  of  the 
senate,  and  to-morrow  it  must  be  de- 
cided. 

^  The  mother  took  all  this  for  abso- 
lute truth.  Her  blood 'Was  speedily 
in  a  ferment,  and  she  flew  into  a  rage. 
J  need  not  observe,  that  such  sudden 
gusts  of  passion  seldom  admit  of  re- 
flection; but  that,  on  the  contrary, 
they  hurry  the  faculties  to  greater 
rashness,  by  which  we  are  rendered  in- 
capable of  extricating  ourselves  from 
impending  danger.  So,  without  con- 
sulting any  one,  she  forthwith  sent  in- 
formation to  the  ladies  of  Rome  con- 
eemmg  this  weighty  afiair.  The  in- 
telligence agitated  the  mind  of  every 
female.  A  meeting  was  immediately 
couvoked,  and  though  it  has  been  said 
that  an  assembly  of  women  coald  not 
be  governed  by  one  speaker;  yet  this 
aflair  being  so  urgent,  the  least  delay 
so  dangerous,  and  the  result  ot  soch 
infinite  importance,  the  revealing  wo- 
man was  allowed  to  officiate  for  herself 
and  associates. 


On  the  eosnhig  morning,  there  was 
such  a  confusion  at  the  senate  door  that 
all  Rome  seemed  to  be  tb  ao  uproar. 
Tt  had  been  determined  by  these  good 
ladies,  that  their  intentions  should  not 
be  revealed  till  they  should  be  able  to 
obtain  an  audience ;  and  it  was  here 
proved  to  a  demonstration,  that  wo- 
men can  keep  a  secret.  They  were 
admitted,  and  an  oration  delivered  by 
the  lady  of  Papirius,  in  which  she  re- 
quested, that  womeu  might  have  two 
husbands,  rather  than  men  two  wives, 
&c. 

On  hearing  a  speech  so  very  un- 
common, the  senators  appeared  thun- 
derstruck, but  upon  the  solution  of  the 
riddle,  the  noble  youth  was  highly 
commended  for  his  fidelity,  and  the 
ladies  deemed  it  expedient  to  retire, 
not,  however,  without  considerable 
confusion. — Aidue  GeUius, 


IMMOLATION  OF  HUMAN  BEINGS. 

In  the  kingdom  of  the  Essantees, 
in  Africa,  (forming,  it  is  supposed,  a 
population  of  about  a  million,  and 
possessing  a  disposable  force  of  one 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  men,)  tlie 
prevalence  of  thb  horrible  rite  exists 
to  an  appalling  extent.  An  authen- 
tic communication  recently  received, 
states,  that  it  forms  a  leading  feature 
in  all  their  great  festivals,  some  of 
which  occur  every  21  days,  and  that 
no  fewer  than  100  victims  are  sacrifi- 
ced at  each.  Besides  these,  there  are 
sacrifices  at  the  death  of  every  person 
of  rank,  more  or  less  bloody,  ac- 
cording so  their  dignity.  On  the  death 
of  his  mother,  the  kiiig  butchered  no 
fewer  than  8,000  victims!  the  fuoe* 
ral  rites  of  a  great  captain  were  repeat- 
ed weekly  iw  three  months,  and  near- 
ly 400  persons  were  slaughtered.  At 
the  funeral  of  a  person  "Of  rank,  it  it 
usual  to  wet  the  grave  with  tlie  bloo<1 
of  a  freeman  of  respectability ;  all  th^ 
retainers  of  a  family  are  present,  an^ 
the  heads  of  all  the  victims  beii^  de^ 
posited  in  the  bottom  of  the  g([ave,  sevi 
eral  are  unsuspectedly  called  out  to  as| 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


AORICULTURAL. 


er 


sist  ID  pladng  the  ooflbif  vuA  just  as 
k  rerts  oo  the  heads  or  skulls,  a  slave 
from  behind,  stuns  one  of  these  free^ 
men  by  a  violent  blow,  followed  by  a 
deep  gash  in  the  back  part  of  the  neck, 
and  be  is  rolled  in  on  the  top  of  the 
body,  and  the  grave  instantaneously 
fiUed  up  J 

AGRICULTURAL. 

rmoM  tm  colovbiah. 
CURE  FOR  PE4CH  TREES. 
A  sure  remedy  for  the  preservation 
if  Peach  Trees,  against  the  destruc- 
tive gnawings  of  a  small  white  worm, 
at  or  near  the  root,  which  hath  caus- 
ed such  a  devastation  of  that  super- 
uriaable  fruit,  for  a  series  of  years,  in 
ills  and  the  states  adjoining,  has  for 
•mny  years  been  in  my  possession, 
and  chinng  a  number  of  which,  in  suc- 


operation;  and  this  bein^  a 
season  for  its  application^  I 
t  it  a  duly  I  owe  to  the  public  to 
pObKih  it,  hoping  that  all  who  are  in- 
lULHed  in  the  raising  of  this  fruit  will 
fwe  it,  at  least,  ode  trials  it  being  so 
tepk  and  withal  so  cheap  a  cure. 
Hjtamtdy  is  by  an  application  of  an 
ngnent,  commonly  ^led  itch  oint- 
■enC,  aioond  the  trunk,  at  the  very 
{Toond'a  surface,  where  lie  theene- 
ay's  eotsencfaments,  which  after  the 
Bioald  b  reknoved,  to  leave  the  lop  of 
the  main  roots,  uid  (choosing  a  fine 
day  for  the  operadon)  the  tree  quite 
dnved  of  all  remaining  mould  (or  dirt) 
Bost  be  spread  about  one  inch  in  depth, 
md  wiQ  soon  in  the  sun's  rays,  extend 
2  or  3  inches  on  the  ^>ark,  diffusing 
its  poisonous  qualities  quite  into  the 
imer  rind  of  the  same,  causing  an  im* 
Bediate  decampment  of  its  natural  de- 
vonrer,  and  shielding  h  Ibrever  after 
front  further  mischief  by  the  sting  of 
its  progenitors.  The  quantum  requir- 
ed for  aoointii^  per  tree,  is  from  1-4 
lo  1  oz.  accordmg  to  its  size;  taking 
doe  care  that  all  such  as  are  diseased, 
he  thohMighly  cleared  from  the  issu- 
i^  gnra  (the  dire  effects  of  the  hidden 
d^ourer;  and  that  a  portion  of  this 


anguent  he  applied  into  the  waim4 
when  it  gushes.  Two  such  anoi^t« 
ings,  one  in  autumn,  and  one  at  mid* 
spring,  will  suffice  for  completely  era* 
(heating  the  foe.  This  article  may  be 
obtain^  from  the  druggist  at  from  300 
to  400  per  cent  upon  the  first  cost ! 
Hence  I  would  advice  the  manufac- 
turing of  ,rt  from  the  following  process: 
purchase  from  the  druggist  lib.  of 
crude  qvicksilver  (cost  7s-)  and  with 
5  lb.  of  lard  (the  more  rancid  the  bet- 
ter) put  them  together  into  an  iron 
pot,  to  which  attach  a  rope  5  or  6  feet 
in  length,  made  fast  overhead,  into 
which  place  a  cannon  ball  14  or  18lb. 
and  let  a  strong  hand  be  applied  to 
two  legs  of  this  vessel,  and  round,  and 
round,  and  round,  let  it  be  twirled  for 
one  hour,  and  the  ingredient  thence 
deposited  in  a  stone  jarr,  and  if  kept 
close  covered,  will  retain  its  virtues  for 
years,  and  serve  for  the  anointing  of 
200  or  230  trees,  and  all  preserved  for 
the  small  pittance  of  one  dollar  forty- 
four  cents.  An  olo  GAanaNSK. 
Season  of  fruits,  9th  moon,  1S20. 

AGRICULTURAL  MEMORANDA. 

At  a  shting  of  the  Board  of  man- 
agers of  the  ^<  New- York  County  Ag- 
ricultural Society,^  on  the  21st  of 
September,  a  number  of  interesting 
communications  were  made. 

A  variety  of  wheat,  maize,  com, 
plants,  melons,  cabba^,  &c.  from 
Egypt,  Sicily,  Spain,  and  various  parts 
of  Europe,  were  presented,  some  from 
the  agricultural  board  at  Albany,  and 
some  from  «tnr  intelligent  consul  at 
Malaga,  George  P.  Barrel,  Esq.  A 
certined  record  from  Mr.  Van  Ranst, 
the  owner  of  the  Bussorah  Arabian, 
was  ordered  to  be  put  on  file,  for  the 
purpose  of  establishing  hereafter  the 
pedigree  of  the  coUm  of  that  celebrate4 
horse.  The  Board  also  ordered  that 
notice  should  be  given  in  the  papers, 
inviting  genUemen  who  reside  jo  the 
neighbouring  states,  and  who  have  fine 
domestic  animals  or  implements  of 
husbandry  which  thev  wish  to  sell  or 
exchange,  to  attend  toe  fair  which  is 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


68 


A<SKIC(JLTURAL. 


to  follow  flie  aiward  of  premldms  at 
M^unt- Vernon  on  the  7th  and  8th  of 
November  next.  A  gentleman  of  this 
city  presented  the  Board  with  four  fine 
peacnes,  taken  from  his  garden.  The 
tree  was  a  wilding,  and  has  borne  a 
large  quantity  of  fruit  this  season. 
The  largest,  which  grew  on  a  single 
stem,  measured  10  1-4  inches  in  cir- 
comference,  and  weighed  8  1-4  ounces. 
The  other  three  grew  on  one  small 
stem  in  a  cluster,  ilveraged  7  ounces  a 
piece.-^D.  Adv. 

FINE  FRUIT. 

The  Hartford  Mirror  tells  us  of  ap- 
ples of  an  unusual  size,  produced  m 
the  vicinity  of  that  city.  Six  apples, 
called  pvmphin  sweetingBj  weighed 
five  pounds  and  fourteen  ounces:  the 
largest  weighed  seventeen  ounces  and 
a  half.  Six  apples  of  the  kind  called 
seek-no-further,  weighed  seventy-two 
ounces,  the  largest  thirteen  punces  and 
a  half.  3ix  apples  of  the  jnpj^;in  kind, 
raised  by  Mr.  John  Jones,  of  Cast- 
Hartford,  were  weighed  in  the  pres- 
ence of  several  persons^  and  certified 
to  be  as  follows: 

1  apple  weighed  18  02. 

1     do        do  17 

4    do        doeach  160^.64 

Total,  99  tMB- 

SYSTEMATIC  AGRICULTURE. 
Systematic  agriculture  requires  suf- 
iiciency  of  hands.  Whatever  scale  of 
farming  any  man  undertakes  to  fill, 
hands  enough  to  do  it  well^  are  essen- 
tial. Although  this  is  a  plain  dictate 
of  common  sense,  yet  the  want  of  be- 
ing guided  by  it,  in  practice,  is  one 
^^iieatcause  of  ill  success,  in  our  agri- 
culture. ^c€£use  we  hear  everv  day, 
that  <<  labour  runs  away  with  all  pro- 
fits in  farming,"  almost  «very  farmer 
lays  it  down  as  a  maxim  to  do  with 
as  little  labour  as  possible.  Now  this 
maxim  almost  always  results  in  prac- 
tice, in  doing  with  less  than  he  ought. 
The  effect  is  almost  every  where  seen 
in  loss  of  time ;  loss  of  season ;  loss  of 


the  employ  of  working  cattle,  and  loss, 
or  deterioration  of  crop.  Now,  in 
truth,  labour,  as  such,  never  yet  di- 
minished any  man's  profit,  on  the 
contrary,  it  is  the  root  and  spring  of 
all  profit.  Labour  unwisely  directed 
and  unskilfiilly  managed,  is,  indeed,  a 
great  consumer  of  the  farmer's  pros- 
perity. But  labour,  wisely  directed, 
and  fljcilfuliy  managed,  can,  from  the 
nature  of  things,  result  in  nothing  else 
than  proiit.  What  is  skilful  manage- 
ment, and  what  is  wise  direction  of  la- 
bour, opens  a  field  almost  boundless ; 
and  not  to  be  attempted  on  the  preseat 
occasion.  A  single  remark  must  su^ 
fice.  The  great  secret  of  European 
success  in  agriculture,  is  stated  to  be 
<^  much  labour  00,  comparatively,  Uu 
tie  laud.''     .  <iixiNOY. 

EARLY  SEED. 
£very  attentive  observer,  wiii  il»- 
mark  among  the  plants  of  almost  every 
kind  of  crops,  somtf  individual  tuMa 
which  are  distinguishable  ft^m  tht 
others  by  a  greater  degree  of  heaM^ 
or  luxuriance,  or  earliness,  or  some 
ocher  pecnliarity.  A  friend  of  frine 
remarked  a  few  years  ago/a  psfticiH 
lar  stem  of  peas  among  his  carlleat 
crop,  which  came  into  flo^prer  and  vw 
pened  long  before  the  others.  He 
marked  tins  stem^nd  saved  the  whole 
of  its  produce  for  seed^  These  ome 
as  mudi  earlier  as  they  had  origl&aliy 
done.  Thi)  produce  was  also  tRved 
for  seed,  and  thus  h^  obtained  a  partis 
cular  kind  of  early  pease,  that  caase  ait 
least  a  week  before  the  best  smt  be 
could  bay  in  the  shops,  if  sewn  at  the 
sanie  time  with  them.  Doctor  Atider-. 
son  relates  facts  similar  to  this,  respect- 
ing  wiieat  and  beans^  The  general  idea 
he  means  to  inculcate  is  obvious,  aad 
extremely  worthy  attention. 

C0RE  FOR  CANEEH  IN  CATTLE. 

The  following  recipe,  published  in 
the  Watchman  of  the  31st  of  Decem- 
ber last,  we  are  informed  has  provc^tl 
generally  successful  on  trial;  as  tl^e 
disease  of  the  tongue  in  cattle  has  agsun 


MISCBLLAKSOUS. 


69 


Rttde  its  appearance,  it  may  be  nsefnl 
lert^-^blish  it. — DcL  Watchman. 

Brandy. eine  Hundred,  Dec.  1819. 

Mr.  Osburn,  if  you  think  the  follow- 
iDw  recipe  worth  a  place  in  your  use- 
ful paper,  it  may  be  of  great  use  to  the 
^ic  in  general.  The  most  of  my 
hones  and  cattle  had  the  canker  on 
ihrir  tongues,  and  I  tried  several  rem- 
edies :  but  the  only  one  that  I  found 
soccessful,  is  the  following. 

Robert  FoRWOOD. 

Honey,  saltpetre,  and  allum.  One 
pint  of  honey,  to  half  an  ounce  of  each 
of  the  other,  boiled  together.  Rub  it 
with  a  swab  on  the  tongue.  Oil  of 
sptke  is  also  very  good  to  rub  with. 


MISCELLANEOUS^ 

Fob  tbx  Mjksozvic  Register. 
THE  EXCURSION. 
It  WW  in  that  season  of  the  year 
wfaeB  Acrtomn  scatters  her  fruits  upon 
Ikt  earthy  and  opens  the  heart  of  roan 
io  gvalitBde,  ^t  I  made  my  annual 
fctreat  from  the  busy  hum  of  the  city, 
t»  a  BBiait  coontry  place,  on  the  banks 
of  a  beaatiful  stream.  This  place 
seemed  of  aW  others  the  best  calcula- 
ted  to  dispose  the  mind  to  contempla- 
tion. It  exlwbited  an  agreeable  con- 
trast ^  the  pleasing  and  the  sublime : 
dte  eye  m  wandering  over  its  scenery, 
beheld  oo  the  one  hand  the  green  and 
level  lawn,  where  flocks  and  herds 
vere  carelessly  grazing  or  ruminating 
beneath  the  spreading  foilage  of  the 

>  while 
chards 
J  other 
le  tow- 
awful 
lie  the 
flowed 
?mnity 

s  noise 
een  so 
the  un- 
intbis 


secluded  spot,  wWk  they  threw  a  me- 
lancholy gloom  over  my  mind,  left  me 
fully  abandoned  to  reflection ;  the 
years  that  were  gone  "arose  before 
me  with  all  their  deeds,'*  and  awaken- 
ed the  voice  of  a  slumbering  con- 
science. The  sins  of  my  youth  crowd- 
ed upon  my  mind  in  alarming  num- 
bers, and  that  shadow  of  religion, 
moral  deportment,  in  which  I  had 
wrapt  myself  from  earliest  life,  now 
disappeared  from  my  view,  and  left  me 
exposed  naked  to  my  own  contempt. 
I  had  formerly  sucked  in  the  poison  of 
deistical  writers,  and  had  often  ridi- 
culed the  superstition  of  a  Christian 
devotee ;  but  I  now  feh  the  bands  of 
prejudice  and  error,  which  infidelity 
had  fastened  on  my  mind,  bursting  like 
threads  before  the  consuming  Are  of 
the  wrath  of  God,  "  which  drank  my 
spirits  up.''  Imagination,  armed  «hh 
a  whip  of  sccopions,  aroused  every 
power  of  my  soul  to  misery,  while  re- 
collection exclaimed,  "  guilty  before 
God !"  Long,  long,  did  I  drink  of  the 
<<  wormwood  and  the  gall,"  till  at 
length  the  shades  of  night  fled,  and  the 
morning  smiled ;  for  the  Sun  of  Rigb« 
teodsness  arose  with  healing  in  his 
wings. 

Then  it  was  that  I  relished  indeed 
the  beauties  of  nature.  O  with  what 
delight  did  I  enter  those  scenes  which 
lately  proved  so  bitter  to  my  taste ; 
not  a  cloud  now  darkened  my  horizon, 
and  my  heart  bounded  with  delight, 
"Are  these  the  pleasures,''  I  involun- 
tarily exclaimed;  on  gaining  the  sum- 
mit Of  a  lofty  hill,  which  commanded 
a  view  of  the  surrounding  country. 
*f  Are  these  the  pleasures  from  which 
infidelity  debars  its  votaries.  Did 
the  young  and  the  gay  but  know  the 
happiness  I  now  enjoy,  how  quickly 
would  they  break  the  thongs  which 
bind  them  to  the  wheel  of  fashion,  and 
fall  with  penitential  awe  at  the  feet  of 
au  injured  Redeemer!  Yes,  said  I, 
while  my  heart  glowed  with  the  rising 
fervour,  were  religion  but  a  phantom, 
with  what  rapture  would  I  fold  the 
imagined  form  ^o  my  bosom  I   even 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


70 


mSCELLANEOUS. 


MW  my  wokAj  kkMag  wtth  heavenly 
fire,  and  winged  with  faith^  springs 
from  the  earth,  and  mounting  above 
the  sorrows  o(  life,  pursues  her  Course 
\o  the  shores  of  immortality !'' 

£U6ENIUS* 


TASHIONABLE  LYLXG. 

The  following  article  is  copied 
from  the  <^  heralo,"  a  paper,  pub- 
lished in  this  ctty  upwards  of  twenty- 
three  years  ago.  What  effect  it  may 
have  had  in  correcting  the  habit  of 
FASHIONABLE  LYING,  at  that  time,  we 
are  unable  to  determine.  But  sure  we 
are.  that  it  was  far  from  having  been 
eradicated. 

« I'M  NOT  AT  HOME." 

*'  A  pretty  excuse  this,  to  get  rid  of 
an  unwelcome  visiter  ! . 

<<  What  a  crooked  path  is  this  to 
the  point  aimed  at !  A  lady  b  very 
busy,  perhaps  she  has  a  mantua  ma- 
ker with  her,  she  cannot  spare  fifteen 
minutes  to  see  a  friend,  or  she  has  not 
on  the  poticul^  dress  in  which  her 
pride  will  be  gratified,  or  in  short,  she 
is  lolling  on  her  sopha,  and  cannot 
take  the  pains  to  go  down  stairs ;  she 
directs  her  servant  to  tell  all  her  visit- 
ers, SHE  IS  NOT  AT  ROME.      Mighty 

genteel  truly !  a  lie !  Yes,  a  plumper, 
to  do  that  which  honest  truth  would 
jdo  with  half  the  trouble. 

'^  But  it  is  fashionable,  it  is  custom- 
ary to  tell  such  lies ;  there  is  no  harm 
in  complying  with  fashion  ! 

^<  Pray,  madam,  is  there  no  danger 
ID  yourself  in  indulging  insincerity  ? 
May  not  practice  grow  into  habit,  and 
send  you  astray  ?  Are  you  not  teach- 
ing your  servants  and  children  danger- 
ous lessons? 

^<  Oh,  as  to  that  we  must  risk  it,  it 
is  the  fashion,  it  is  well  understood, 
there  is  no  deception  in  it,  every  body 
knows  what  is  meant. 

^  Well,  if  every  body  knows  what 
is  meant,  you  may  as  well  tell  them 
the  blunt  truth  at  once. 

^  Oh|  ao^  that  would  not  do,  it 


would  be  so  monstrous  valgnr  to  speak 
the  truth ;  why  the  whole  town  would 
laugh  at  us,  it  won't  do,  it  won't  do^ 
but  in  an  evasion  there  seems  to  be 
something  so  delicate^  so  polite^  go 
weVrbred^  so  fashionable,  that  noth- 
ing suits  so  well.  Sincerity  !  Bless  me, 
what  an  outlandish  thing  is  that !  Sin- 
cerity, hail ;  a  coarse  commodity,  that 
is  fit  only  for  a  log  house. 

'<  But  let  me  tell  you  a  short  aneo* 
dote  about,  ^^  I'm  not  at  home."  ft 
sets  this  fashionable  evasion  in  a  very 
happy  point  of  view.   ^ 

"  A  clergyman  of  my  acquaintance 
wanted  to  write  a  sermon,  he  had  but 
one  day  to  do  it  in,  and  he  wished  not 
to  be  interrupted.  He  directed  his 
servant  for  the  first  tioM,  to  vaSwm 
visiters,  "  he  was  not  at  horoe,^*  and 
retired  to  his  study.  At  twelve  oVlocb, 
a  gentleman,  appeared  at  the  door,  it 
was  General  Washington,  who  call- 
ed to  return  a  visit  which  had  been 
paid  him  by  the  clergyman ;  the  ser- 
vant did  not  know  him,  aiid  obeyed 
his  instructions.  The  general  left  hia 
card,  and  departed.  The  servant  hand- 
ed his  card  to  the  clergyman :  what 
was  his  astonishment  and  remt !  It 
was  the  first  time  in  a  life  of  forty  or 
fifty  years,  he  had  durected  the  excuse 
of  <<  I'm  not^at  home,"  to  be  deliver- 
ed to  a  visiter,  and  it  was  the  first  and 
only  opportunity  he  had  ever  had  to 
receive  a  visit  from  the  illustrious 
Washington ! 

^  The  clergy man'si mortification  was 
extreme !  he  acknowledged  his  faulty 
and  declared  he  would  never  be  guilty 
a  second  time. 

^<  The  fact,  which  fell  within  the 
writer's  knowledge,  is  a  fine  comment 
on  the  ridiculous  practice  of  getting 
rid  of  visiters. 

<<  Pray,  why  b  it  not  easy  to  make 
it  polite,  and  genteel,  and  delicate,  and 
well-bred,  to  tell  the  truth ;  suppose 
the  servant  should  be  instructed  to  say, 

"Mr.  ,  or  Mrs.  ,  b  very 

much  engaged,  but  will  be  happy  to 
see  you  at  another  time."  A  little 
practice  would  mak^  it  set  light  and 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MISCSliLANSOUt. 


7i 


eftsy  on  the  ftMbiomble  workL  But 
tiiat  tyrant  custom!  bowr  shall  we 
break  his  chains  ?" 


FEMALE  SHERIFFS. 
Among  the  anomalies  of  the  British 
constftotion,  that  of  recc^izing  the 
right  of  females  to  be  sherififs  is  not  one 
of  the  least  extraordinary.  It  is  a  fact 
howerer,  that  the  office  of  sheriff  of  the 
comity  of  Westmoreland  is  herecfitary 
in  the  family  of  the  earl  of  Thanet^and 
dmefore  when  that  title  descends  to  a 
femate^  she  becomes  sheriff  both  in 
fight  and  fact.  Two  instances  of  such 
aa  occurrence  are  recorded.  The  one 
was  IB  the  person  of  the  widow  of  Sir 
Bqger  de  Clifford,  who  inherited  by 
nnmriage ;  after  his  death,  she  sat  in 
person,  as  sheriff,  in  h^  castle  of  Ap- 
pleby, with  tlie  judges.  The  second 
was,  to  that  of  the  daughter  of  the  third 
earl  of  Cumberland,  the  17th  in  de- 
scent of  the  CUfford  family,  who  had 
held  as  lord  and  hereditary  high  slteriff 
of  Westmoreland.  His  daughter,  when 
a  widow,  about  the  year  I06O,  sat  reg- 
ularly in  person  with  the  judges,  as 
dieriff,  in  the  castle  of  Appleby.  This 
kdy  left  two  daughters,  the  surviver  of 
whom  married  the  earl  of  Thanet; 
hence  the  title  and  rights  were  trans- 
tmed  to  this  family. — London  paper. 

EUGENIA  DE  MIRANDE, 

AM  IKTEABSTING   STORT. — FROM  THE 

PAENCH. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  summer, 
a  young  man  named  Liaval,  walking 
in  the  Thuilleries,  found  near  the  de- 
l^htAil  bower,  where  the  exquisite 
statues  of  Hippomenes  and  Atalanta 
are  placed,  the  following  billet : 

<^  An  opportunity  b  offered  to  the 
person  who  shall  find  this  billet  of  do- 
ing a  good  action.  If  the  person  is 
disposed  to  do  it,  he  is  requested  to  go 
to  the  me  de  Sainto^,  No.  1342,  and 
ask  for  Li^nia  de  Mirande.^' 

^  P.  S.  Should  the  finder  be  tmwil- 
liag  to  go  to  the  assistance  of  an  uih 
^Dftmiate  mother,  he  is  requested  not 


to  preirent  anodnr  pcnoa  fron  doing 
it,  but  to  drop  the  biilec  where  be 
found  it." 

LJnval  is  the  best  d«ic«r  in  Paria 
after  Treuis ;  he  read  the  InHet,  hum* 
med  a«iiew  air  while  he  was  reading  it, 
and  then  with  a  stroke  of  hb  bamboo^ 
whisked  it  into  the  air,  and  hastened 
to  the  Fauxbonrgh  de  Rould,  to  give 
his^  opinion  upon  a  robe  of  exqittrite 
taste,  but  which  it  was  feared  was  not 
soificiently  striking. 

The  second  person  who  picked  it 
up,  was  a  maikof  middle  age,  mmjpAf 
clad,  and  walking  quick.  He  stopped, 
however,  to  read  it,  but  casting  his 
eyes  towards  heaven,  as  if  he  meant 
to  say,  ^  It  is  not  to  me  this  letter  is 
addressed,'^  he  placed  it  respectfully 
in  its  former  place. 

A  contractor  came  next,  one  of 
those  men  who  think  themselves  mo- 
derate, because  they  are  content  with 
the  trifling  gain  of  three  thousand 
francs  a  day,  and  who  are  purse-proud 
and  impudent ;  be  first  kicked  the  bil- 
let, then  took  it  up  from  curiosity. 
Scarcely  had  he  read  it,  when  he  tore 
it  iuto  a  thousand  pieces,  exclaiming, 
«  ^Tis  a  trap.'' 

The  next  day,  precisely  at  the  same 
place,  another  billet  was  deposited, 
exactly  similar  to  the  former.  The 
first  person  who  perceived  it,  had  the 
delicacy  to  take  the  address,  and  to 
place  the  billet  where  he  found  it.  A 
young  marri^  couple  perceived  it  a 
iew  minute^  afterwards.  After  having 
read  it,  madame  C*^^*,  who  was  on 
tlie  point  of  becoming  a  mother,  said 
to  her  husband,  ^  My  love,  let  us  see 
the  person  to  whom  we  are  directed. 
What  we  have  to  give  is  hot  little ; 
but  a  slight  benefit  often  prevents  the 
unfortunate  from  giving  themselves  up 
to  despair,  and  inspires  them  with 
courage  to  wait  for  better  days.'' 

Tli^  young  couple  proceeded  to  the 
rue  de  Saintonge.  But  at  Paris,  hav- 
ing the  name,  the  street,  and  the 
number,  is  by  no  means  sufficient  to 
insure  the  finding  of  the  real  place. 
Sonne  houses  have  the  numbers  they 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


72 


MUCBLLANBOUt. 


bad  before  thereTohiticni;  from  other 
bouses  tbe  revoluHon  has  removed  for- 
mer numbers  aod  placed  others.  The 
sections  hav«  aocuiiiulated  upoii  the 
walls  of  P^is  ciphers  of  all  colours, 
afid  not  at  all  regdar.  After  having 
walked  twice  op  and  down  the  streets, 
the  young  couple  at  length  found  out 
No.  1842.  They  learned  that  the 
house  was  occupied  by  an  old  man, 
formerly  a  physician,  who  had  retired, 
and  passed  for  a  rich  men ;  and  who 
had  an  only  danghter,  distinguished 
for  her  wit,  and  her  talents. 

The  young  couple  were  shown  op  a 
very  handsome  staircase  to  the  first 
floor,  where  tfaey  were  ushered  into  a 
room  fomished  without  gaudiness,  but 
with  perfect  taste.  They  asked  to 
speak  with  Eugenia  de  Mirande ;  and 
a  young  lady  of  twenty-two  or  twenty- 
three  years  of  age,  graceful  and  elegant, 
rose  and  showed  them  into  a  small 
apartment,  where  every  thing  proved 
that  the  useful  and  agreeable  were  ha- 
bltuftlly  cultivated ;  books,  pamphlets, 
music  books,  instruments,  drawings, 
were  in  different  parts  of  the  room ; 
tjvery  thing  denoted  affluence. 

^'  I  fear,"  said  madame  C»^^,  "  I 
have  fallen  into  seme  mistake.  We 
read  your  address,  madame,  upon  a 
billet  we  found  in  the  Thuilleries,  and 
determined  to  offer  some  assistance 
to  the  person  pointed  out;  but  we  per- 
ceive here  that  thete  are  charms  to 
delight,  not  sorrows  to  be  relieved." 

Eugenia  de  Mirande,  for  it  was  to 
her  they  spoke,  explained  to  them, 
but  with  some  embarrassment,  that 
she  was  only  the  organ  of  a  lady,  very 
much  to  be  pitied :  who,  from  a  sen- 
timent of  pride,  vnshed  to  conceal  her- 
self, but  who  was  worthy  the  interest 
she  had  excited. 

^  In  that  case,"  said  madame  C***, 
"  request  her  to  permit  me  to  see  her ; 
I  do  not  think  that  she  ought  to  blush 
at  the  visit  of  one  of  her  own  sex,  wbo 
is  not  a  stranger  to  sorrow," 

The  young  lady  evaded  the  request, 
under  a  pretext  that  her  protege  had 
a  whimsical  imagination,  which  ren- 


dered it  dil&cult  to  ooofer  an  obliga- 
tion upon  her. 

"  But  she  has  children  ?" 

^^  Three ;  and  she  has  just  lost,  af- 
ter a  long  and  ex|>en8ive  illness,  a 
husband,  whose  labour  supplied  theoi 
with  the  means  of  liviug." 

<'  Good  heaven  !  what  a  situation ! 
and  what  age  arc  the  children  ?" 

"  They  are  all  young ;  a  girl  of  five 
years  and  a  half  is  the  eldest." 

"  I  shall  soon,"  said  madame  C***, 
with  a  blush  which  lent  a  new  charm 
to  her  beauty,  "be  a  mother  myself; 
thb  is  sufficient  to  interest  roe  for  the 
fate  of  these  little  innocents ;  yet  this 
circumstance  unfortunately  prevents 
me  from  havini;  the  satisfaction  of 
taking  one  of  the  children ;  my  own 
will  demand  all  ray  care  :  but  permit 
me  at  least  to  send  a  small  bundle  for 
the  eldest  child ;  for  I  omnot  believe 
that,  with  such  a  friend  as  you,  the 
family  can  be  exposed  to  the  want  of 
the  necessaries  of  life." 

Eugenia  de  Mirande  thanked  the 
lady  in  the  name  of  her  friend,  and 
accepted  the  present,  aAer  takii^  dowa 
the  name  and  address  of  madame  C. 

Scarcely  had  the  young  couple  re- 
tired, when  a  young  man  came  upoa 
the  same  errand. 

^^  Your  pardon,  madam,"  said  be 
to  Eugenia,  "it  is  not  you  I  am  im 
search  of,  but  Eugenia  de  Mirande." 

A  similar  explanation — similar  as* 
tonishment.  After  having  beard  the 
story  of  the  unfortupate  person,  the 
young  man  appeared  to  be  much  mo- 
ved. 

"  How  happens  it^  that  a  widow 
and  three  little  innocents  should  be 
absolutely  without  succour,  upon  so 
fertile  a  soil  as  ours,  and  in  the  midst 
of  an  enlightened  nation  ?" 

"  You  are  in  the  right,  sir ;  but 
where  is  the  remedy  ?" 

"  The  remedy,  madam,  would  be 
to  give  a  little  more  provident  wisdom 
to  Frenchmen,  and  make  them  under- 
staad,  that  after  to*morrow  there  is 
aaotber  day  to  come ;  and  thai  wbeii 
we  quit  life  we  leeve^  behind  us  often 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


HtSGXLLAMSOVS. 


78 


tk  dearest  piurt  of  ourselves.  But 
that  is  not  the  point  to  be  considered 
now.  The  situation  of  the  lad  j,  about 
wbom  you  have  interested  yourself,  is 
dreadful;  and  whatever  be  the  causes, 
let  OS  try  to  soilen  them." 

Eugenia  received  the  present  tlie 
joaag  man  gave. 

^  I  am  not  rich,  madam,  and  that  is 
the  reason  my  donation  is  so  trifling ; 
bat  when  we  are  prudent,  we  can  al- 
ways, though  young,  have  something 
to  give.'' 

^  Bat,  Sir,  money  is  not  the  sole 
benefit  we  can  extend  to  the  wretched ; 
good  offices  and  tenderness  do  them 
noch  more  service.'' 

^  Is  your  friend,  Madam,  in  want  of 
sacfa  offices?  Speak  the  word,  and 
there  is  nothing  I  will  not  do  upon 
yonr  recommendation." 

"Yet  forgive  me,  Sir;  let  my  mo- 
dves  excuse  my  indiscretion.  Does 
your  situation  in  life  afford  you  the 
means  of  speaking  to  the  minister  ?" 
"  No,  naadam;  my  father  cultivates 
prop^ty  in  the  environs  of  Paris ;  he 
has  passed  bis  whole  life  in  doubling 
its  value  by  constant,  Qare  and  good 
manageflient,  but  never  was  he  seen 
ii  the  aTenues  of  power ;  this  is  what 
I  coi^;ratulate  him  upon  more  than  I 
pruse  him,  for  we  do  not  frequent  the 
anticfaainbers  of  men  in  place  for  plea- 
sure. Happily,  I  have  no  more  need 
to  do  so  than  he.  I  partake  with  five 
brothers  and  sisters,  who  love  me,  and 
whom  I  love,  the  patrimony  he  will 
leave  as  ;  and  I  hope  the  minister  will 
never  hear  us  s]k)ken  of.  Yet  if  it  be 
necessary  to  solicit  him  in  favour  of 
year  friend,  I  am  ready  to  do  it.  AViiat 
a  it  she  wants  ?" 

(Continued  in  p.  107.) 

PERSECUTION  IN  CHINA. 

A  letter  from  a  Catholic  Missionary 
at  Bfacao,  dated  July  1,  ISIQ?  affords 
sooie  detaib  relative  to  the  persecu- 
tiops  of  the  Christians  in  China.  Eve- 
ry E«2ropcui  priest  that  is  discovered, 
tt  iastantly  sdzed,  and  put  to  death ; 


Chinese  Christian  priests  undergo  the 
same  fate.  Christians  of  the  laity,  un- 
less they  will  apostatize,  are  first  dread- 
fully tortured,  and  then  banished  into 
Tartary.  This  year,  in  the  prisons 
of  one  province  alone,  (Sutcuen)  two 
hundred  Christians  were  expecting  the 
orders  for  their  exile.  A  Chinese 
priest  has  just  been  strangled,  and  two 
others  were  also  under  sentence  of 
death.  Throughout  the  whole  em- 
pire, there  are  but  ten  missionaries, 
five  of  whom,  at  Pekin,  have  no  coni^ 
munication  with  the  inhabitants  unless 
it  be  secret.  The  emperor  has  more- 
over declared  that  he  will  no  longer 
tolerate  either  painters  or  watchma- 
kers, or  even  mathematicians.  The 
bishop  of  Pekin  has  in  vain  attempted 
to  introduce  himself  under  this  title, 
into  his  diocese.  The  only  way  left 
to  the  missionaries  to  penetrate  into 
the  country,  is  by  gaining  the  messen- 
gers or  couriers  that  pass  from  Macao 
to  Pekin,  but  if  discovered,  both  the 
missionary  aiid  the  courier  suffer  death 
on  the  spot. 

SYMPATHY. 
A  man  of  rank  and  worth,  having  a 
great  and  unexpected  loss  in  his  reve- 
nues, thus  addressed  his  wife :  **  Cour- 
age and  economy  are  our  chief  resour- 
ces. You  know  I  submit  to  many  de- 
privations, and  among  others  have  dis- 
missed two  old  and  faithful  servants. 
It  is  painful  to  speak  of  your  favourite 
chamber-maid,  but  your  own  good 
sense  will  suggest  that  we  cannot  af- 
ford to  keep  her."  The  countess  re- 
tired, and  summoning  the  maid,  im- 
parted to  her  the  sad  necessity  of  their 
.separation.  The  pooi  girl,  bursting 
into  tears,  answered,  ^  Madam,  you 
know  I  work  well  at  my  needle,  and 
can  easily  get  my  bread.  Suffer  me 
then  to  keep  my  little  chamber,  and 
eat  by  myself,  and  I  shall  always  be 
delighted  to  serve  you  as  usual,  but 
without  any  wages,  or  any  expense  to 
you  whatever."  The  tears  became 
reciprocal,  and  the  lady  went  to  ast^ 
quaint  her  husband,  who  was  greatly  * 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


74 


MISeSLLANEOUS. 


affected,  and  soon  showed  that  he 
scorned  to  be  surpassed  in  noble  and 
generous  procedure.  For  when  he 
entered  the  dining-room  with  his  wife, 
he  ordered  another  cover,  and  the 
lady  asking  if  he  expected  a  friend,  he 
answered, "  Yes,  madam,  a  real  friend. 
Will  you  have  the  goodness  to  call 
Jliss  ♦*♦*?**  naming  her  maid. — 
When  she  appeared,  trembling,  as 
the  expected  notice  seemed  to  in- 
dicate sudden  dismission,  the  count 
took  her  hand  and  placed  h^r  at  the 
table,  saying,  "The  nobility  of  your 
sentiments.  Miss,  renders  you  our 
equal,  the  goodness  of  your  heart,  our 
friend.  This  is  your  place  in  future.*' 
And  when  fortune  became  more  pro- 
pitious, she  continued  on  the  same 
footing  as  the  friend  of  the  family. 

PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  SOUFIES. 

tRARSLATEO   FROM   CHSV.   CHARDI2f*8  VOT- 
AGS8  EH  FER8I. 

The  philosophy  of  Epicurus  and 
Democritus  is  not  known  lo  Persia ; 
but  that  of  Pythagoras,  is  the  great 
and  universal  philosophy  of  the  Hin- 
doos, and  of  all  the  idolatrous  nations 
of  tlie  east.  That  philosophy  is  taught 
amongst  the  Mahommedans,  and  more 
particularly  amongst  the  Persees,  by  a 
cabal  of  people  called  Soufies.  They 
are  an  ancient  and  celebrated  sect, 
which  is  nevertheless  but  little  known, 
because  its  doctrine  is  all  mysterious, 
and  those  who  profess  it,  make  it  a 
principal  business  not  to  reveal  the 
end  bQt  with  sO  much  discretion  that 
neither  the  religion  nor  philosophy  of 
the  country  may  be  troubled. 

They  have  a  book  in  which  all 
their  sentiments  are  collected,  as  weH 
on  philosophy  as  on  theology,  which 
may  be  called  their  theological  sum 
total.  They  call  it  Gulchenras,  that 
is  to  say,  Garden  of  Mysteries,  which 
is  understood  to  be  a  mystical  theolo- 
gy. Notwithstanding,  it  is  difficult  to 
understimd  precisely  the  sentiments 
and  discipline  of  those  Soufies;  for  it 
is  a  cabal,  in  which  it  is  difficult  to  get 
initiated,  and  hi  which  secrecy  is  the 


most  important  precept.   On  this  sub- 
ject they  say,  that  true  wisdom  has  in 
view  the  repose  and  tranquility  of  so- 
ciety, as  well  as  that  of  the  understand- 
ing, and  will  not  allow  public  tran- 
quility to  be  disturbed  by  opposition 
to  popular  belief.  If  you  do  not  doubt, 
say  they,  the  opinions  of  your  fore- 
fathers, hold  to  them :  they  suffice  for 
you.     If  you  doubt,  search  truth  gent- 
ly ;  but  do  not  disturb  others.    They 
say,  co^rmably  to  this  principle,  that 
the  sentiments  of  the  wise  must  be  of 
three  sorts:    The  first,  consisting  of 
the  opinions  of  the  country,  as  for  ex- 
ample, the  predominant  religion,  and 
the  received  philosophy;  the  second,  in 
the  opinions  which  it  is  permitted  to 
communicate  to  all  those  who  have  their 
doubts,  and  who  search  for  truth ;  the 
third,  in  those  which  are  kept  to  one's 
self,  and  of  which  you  confer  with  those 
only  who  enjoy  the  same  sentiment. 
They  call  doubt,  the  key  to  knowledge, 
upon  which  they  allege  this  sentence : 
who  doubts  not,  examines  not ;  who 
examines  not,  discovers  not ;  who  dis- 
covers not,  is  blind,  and  remains  blind. 
But  to  arrir^  at  the  bottom  of  their 
philosophy,  they  are  reputed  to  be  of 
the  sentiment  of  Pythagoras,  and  to 
believe  in  the  grancf  soul  of  the  world. 
It  is  reported  that  their  principal  doc- 
tors say,  in  speaking  of  themselves, 
Hacknemeriy  I  am  that  isj  (the  tru« 
being ;)  what  you  see  is  as  a  garmeni 
which  covei-s  the  eternal  infinite  es- 
sence, which  is  called    God.      Tb^ 
Mahommedan  devotees  accuse  theb 
plainly  of  Atheism,  not  believing  in  \ 
God,  nor  in  the  resurrection ;  and  the; 
have  made  current  against  them  thi 
distich,  which  they  say  is  the  myster 
of  the  Soufies : 

Yek  vojoad  amed  vely  souret  ttsar ; 
Kearet  souret  ae  dared  ahtebar. 
There  is  only  one  essence,  but  there  are 

thousand  forms  or  figures : 
The  form  of  nothing  has  neither  consist^ 
cy  nor  reality. 

That  is  to  say,  Whateyer  appea 
to  yoiur  eyes  isonly  diversidHd  figu^ 
of  one  same  immutable  essences 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC  '^ 


mscxLLAxisoua. 


79 


When  they  are  told  that  there  is  no 
mse  in  tfaeir  sentimenu,  and  that  their 
sect  abounds  with  stupid  igno^nt  peo- 
ple; they  answer,  that  our  incredulity 
nost  account  for  it;  that  their  reii- 
^on  is  better  felt  than  described ;  that 
kis  an  interior  light,  which  is  ineffable, 
ihhough  very  clear ;  and  that  in  vain 
ve  pretend  to  treat  of  theur  mysteries 
by  means  of  our  sciences,  as  logic  and 
physics,  for  thejr  are  human  inyentions 
vliicfa  cover  light  instead  of  idissemi- 
aating  it.  They  profess  to  love  every 
body,  and  to  curse  no  one:  looking 
upon  all  men  as  the  production  of  one 
ud  the  same  father,  and  the  several 
xcts  of  men  as  the  several  jslaves  and 
iovants  of  the  same  sovereign. 

That  sect  has  produced  several 
celebrated  authors,  amongst  whom 
a  certain  BU  Ixmaid,  who  has  been 
amamed  *^  the  king  of  the  Soufies," 
lot  so  much  on  account  of  his  learn- 
ing, as  of  the  austerity  of  his  life, 
and  that  of  his  disciples,  to  whom 
be  tai^ht  principally  contempt  of  the 
vorkl. 

As  for  the  rest,  the  Persees  ac- 
knowledge that  it  is  difficult  to  disttn- 
pnsh  among  these  Soufies,  the  atheists 
or  malhead,  as  the  Persians  call  them, 
toxMn  the  el  eUaricatj  who  are  the  con- 
templatists  or  fanatics,  and  resemble 
die  Ubaama^os  of  Spain,  the  molinO" 
uttt  oi  Italy,  and  the  quietists  of 
France.  It  is  probable  that  this  mys- 
tical theology  of  the  Soufies  passed 
from  east  to  west  by  way  of  Africa; 
tod  that  it  has  thus  infected  first  Spain, 
aod  then  the  rest  of  Europe. 

]La  viMite  est  on  poid,  dont  on  ne  pent. 
' ;  avoir  ses  bttlanees  trop  chargees. 


AiniQUmES  OF  TENNESSEE. 
On  the  farm  of  Turner  Lane,  £sq. 
ive  miles  south-east  of  Sparta,  on  the 
waters  of  the  Caney  Fork  or  Cumber- 
land, and  on  other  farms  adjacent, 
bve  lately  been  found  small  graves 
ask  into  the  earth  from  one  foot  to 
Qibteen  inches  below  the  surface. 
Ikqr  aie  about  ten  inches  broad,  and 


eighteen  inches  long,  hiiving  a  flag 
limestone  rock  at  each  of  the  ends  and 
sides,  and  covered  with  the  same  spe* 
cies  of  rock.  In  these  graves  are  found 
scull  bones,  about  three  inches  in  di- 
ameter, nearly  sound ;  the  other  bones 
being  proportionally  smaU.  Between 
two  and  three  hundred  of  these  graves 
have  been  discovered.  In  every  tomb^ 
yet  (^ned,  was  found  a  black  earthen 
pot,  about  one  pint  in  capacity,  con« 
taining  a  small  conckshell,  undecayed, 
of  a  grey  colour  on  the' exterior,  and 
red  within,  end  as  transparent  as  this 
species  is  usually  found.  The  pot 
when  broken,  exhilnts  numerous  white 
specks  of  round  shining  particles. 

It  is  a  matter  of  striking  curiosity, 
that  there  is  not  to  be  found  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  this  place,  any  lime^ 
stone  o{  the  same  species  with  that  of 
which  these  tombs  are  constructed. 

In  the  vicinity  of  the  place  where 
these  graves  are  found,  there  are  the 
vestiges  of  a  large  town  having  parallel 
streets  extending  east  and  west.  The 
sutures  of  the  heads  of  these  skeletons 
are  closed,  and  as  sound  and  solid  as 
the  other  parts  of  the  sculls. 

At  Mr.  Anderson's,  two  miles  and  a 
half  in  a  south  westerly  direction  from 
the  &rm  of  Mr.  Lane,  were  found 
other  skeletons  of  the  same  dimensions^ 
in  tombs  coostruoted  upon  the  same 
plan,  and  of  similar  materials.  One 
at  least  it  is  said,  was  observed  to  have 
teeth  and  all  the  bones  belonging  to 
the  human  body. 

The  facu  above  suted  are  attested 
by  Mr.  Lane,  of  White  county,  who 
has  seen  the  skeletons  very  often :  by 
his  son,  Jacob  A.  Latie,  Esq.  of  Sparta, 
in  the  same  county ;  and  by  another 
son,  Alexander  Lane,  Esq.  a  student 
at  law,  who  all  say  they  can  be  veri* 
fied  by  all  the  inhabitants  in  the  vici- 
nity of  the  farm  of  Mr.  Lane.  Mr. 
Lane,  the  father,  who  is  a  man  of  ob- 
servation, gives  it  as  his  decided  opi- 
nion, that  these  are  the  skeletons  of 
adult  persons.  He  founds  his  opinion 
upon  the  soj  idity  oi  the  bones  of  the 
heads,  and  also^  upon  the  fact,  of  the 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


76 


MIftGSLLAN£OUt. 


sutures  of  the  scuib  beiiQ  entirely 
dosed  and  solid. 

The  tress  growing  where  they  were 
Arand  are  of  as  great  size  and  age  as 
any  in  the  surrounding  forest.  Both 
at  Mr.  Anderson's  and  Mr.  Lane's  are 
many  extensive  circular  elevations  of 
eBxihy  raised  two  or  three  Ibet  above  the 
common  surface,  arranged  in  order, 
having  the  very  appearance  of  once  po- 
pulous towns,  upon  which  are  stand- 
ing large  trees ;  on  one  of  them  a  pop- 
lar of  5  feet  diameter  at  least.  The 
small  graves  at  Mr.  Lane's  are  arrang- 
ed ;  but  at  Mr.  Anderson's  there  is  a 
large  burying  ground  full  of  them,  with^ 
out  any  order  as  to  position.  That  the 
bones  are  human,  Mr.  Lane  says  there 
can  be  no  doubt,  and  that  they  are 
not  the  bones  of  children,  he  thinks 
unquestionable. — Nashmlle  Whig. 

CHRISTIAN  FORTITUDE. 
A  poor  little  African  negro,  only 
ten  years  of  age,  went  to  hear  the 
preaching  of  one  of  the  missionaries, 
and  became,  through  bis  instrumental- 
ity, a  convert  to  the  Christian  religion. 
His  master  (an  inveterate  enemy  of 
missions)  hearing  of  it,  commanded 
him  never  to  go  again,  and  declared 
he  would  have  him  whipped  to  death 
if  he  did.  The  poor  little  boy,  in  con- 
sequence of  this  mandate,  was  very 
miserable.  He  could  scarcely  refrain 
from  going,  yet  knew  that  his  death 
was  inevitable  if  he  did.  In  this  crit- 
ical situation  he  sought  direction  and 
assistance  at  the  throne  of  grace ;  and 
after  having  done  this,  he  felt  convin- 
ced that  it  was  his  duty  still  to  attend, 
but  to  be  careful  that  this  should  nev- 
er interfere  with  his  master's  business, 
and  for  the  rest,  to  leave  himself  in  the 
hand  of  God.  He  therefore  went,  and' 
on  his  return  was  summoned  to  his 
master's  presence,  and  after  much  vi- 
olent language,  he  received  five  and 
twenty  lashes ;  and  then,  in  a  sarcas- 
tic tone  of  blasphemous  ridicule,  his 
mastej*  exclaimed,  ^^  What  can  Jesus 
Christ  do  for  you  now  ?"  "  He  ena- 
Sles  me  to  bear  it  patiently,"  said  the 


poor  child.  ^  Give  him  five  and  twen- 
ty lashes  more,"  cried  the  cruel  wr^(k. 
He  was  obeyed.    ^^  And  what  cao  Je- 
sus Christ  do  for  you  now  ?"  asked 
the  unfeeling  monster.  ^^  He  helps  me 
to  look  forward  to  a  future  reward," 
replied  the  little  sufferer.     "  Give  him 
five  and  twenty  lashes  more,"  vocife- 
rated the  inhuman  tyrant  in  a  trans- 
port of  rage.     They  complied;  and 
while  he  listened  with  savage  delight 
to  the  extorted  groans  of  his  dyiog 
victim,  he  again  demanded,   "  What 
can  Jesus  Christ  do  for  you  now  ?" 
The  youthful  martyr,  with  the  last 
efibrt  of  expiring  nature,  meekly  an- 
swered, <'  if  e  enables  me  to  pray  for 
you,  Massa,"  and  instantly  breathed 
his  last ! 

GENUINE  ANECDOTE. 
The  honourable  William  Gray,  of 
Boston,  celebrated  as  "  the  rich,"  and 
respected  for  his  exemplary  virtues, 
some  years  since,  on  his  accustomary 
visit  to  the  market,  found  a  newly  ad- 
mitted lawyer  seeking  for  some  boy  to 
carry  home  his  meat.     Mr.   Gray, 
whose  usual  and  ordinary  dress  is  plain 
and  simple,  and  whom  the  lawyer  did 
not  know,  stepped  up  and  oder«d  to 
take  it  home  for  him,  which  ofier  the 
attorney  immediately  accepted;  and 
00  arriving  at  his  house,  and  laying 
down  the  meat  where  he  was  directed, 
the  attorney  inquired  how  much  he 
charged  for  carrying  it ;  "  Mr.  Gray 
repUed,  he  left  it  to  his  "  generosity  ;*' 
upon  which  the  other  gave  him  a  shil- 
ling, which  he  readily  accepted  with 
thcmks;  observing,  that  if  he  had,  at 
any  time,  any  market  things  to  carry 
home,  he  would  readily  do  it  for  him  ; 
and  ^^if  i  should  not  happen  to   be 
there,"   said   he,   "Just  inquire    for 
Billy  Gray,  and  I  will  come  iramedi- 
ately."    It  is  unnecessary  to  add  the 
surprise  and  mortification  of  the  laivr-i 
yer,  on  hearing  that  a  man  worth   m 
million  of  dollars  had  performed  Ifii^ 
menial  service  fo^  him ;  but  it  had  ltd 
effect,  for  he  never  afterwards  requir 
ed  the  assistafice  of  any  one,  to  aiii 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


M1SCBLLA1IS0U8. 


77     - 


bim  ia  performing  his  marketiiigy 
to  cany  home  hU  meat. 


or 


THE  PENSIONER. 
An  aged  pensioner^  who  was  attend- 
iog  our  cotiDty  court  for  the  purpose 
of  making  oath  to  his  poverty,  accord- 
ing to  the  late  act  of  congress,  hear- 
ing it  announced  that  the  court  would 
require  four  dollars  and  seventy-five 
cents  from  every  pensioner,  drew  from 
his  pocket-book  an  old  coiitinental  bill 
of  sixty  dollars,  remarking  that  was  all 
he  had  ever  received  for  his  services 
in  the  revolutionary  war ;  and  that  if 
the  court  insisted  upon  any  compensa- 
tion from  him,  they  must  take  their 
pay  out  of  that  bill,  for  he  had  no 
other  property  or  means  of  payment. 
A  gentleman  present  prevented  its 
being  handed  to  the  court,  but  it  is 
needless  to  add  that  it  would  not  have 
been  received. — Connecticut  JowmaL 

INFALLIBLE   CURE  FOR  THE  DYS- 
ENTERY. 

Stmmer  together  one  quart  of  strong 
via^ar,  and  one  and  a  half  pounds  of 
best  quality  loaf  sugar,  for  twenty  min- 
utes, in  a  pewter  dish,  with  a  pewter 
cover,  and  no  other  will  answer.    If 

bowels 
s,  united 
itimony ; 
d.  One 
s  then  to 
and  day, 
e  cure  is 
new  it  to 
fatal  dis». 
I  hpuiir, 
poysen- 

[CINE. 


le  of  pa- 
1  in  our 
nthly  ao- 
And  this 
of course 


always  out  of  season  ;  as  the  mode  in 
May,  for  instance,  can  never  arrive 
here  till  June ;  so  that  it  merely  grati- 
fies the  curiosity  to  know  what  was 
the  fashion,  or  enables  us  to  come  into 
it  a  year  after.  How  can  the  pride  of 
our  fair  country  women  submit  to 
this  ?  It  might  be  some  comfort^  to  be 
sure,  for  a  blooming  American  girl 
to  know,  that  on  the  morning  of  this 
blessed  20th  of  June,  1820,  she  had 
on  a  morning  dress  like  that  of  the 
Dutchess  of  A,  or  the  Countess  of  D, 
in  England,  at  the  same  time.  But 
to  think  of  this  being  a  cast-off  fashion 
of  the  preceding  month,  or  preceding 
year,  already  supplanted  by  a  new 
one---Oh  fie !  It  b  too  much  like  pick- 
ing the  bones  of  the  gay  world  ! 

llnve  we  not  ladies  of  talents,  of 
taste  and  general  accomplishments,  as 
capable  of  inventing  fashions,  as  those 
of  England  ?  I  believe  so.  But  if  not, 
are  we  destitute  of  milliners  and  man- 
tua  makers,  of  sufficient  ingenuity^ 
whose  interest  would  lead  diem  to 
change  the  mode  as  often  as  tHe  most 
extravagant  belle  could  desire.  After 
all,  what  is  this  fashion  but  a  mere 
illusive  meteor,  that  is  gone  as  soon  as 
found?  ril  engage  for  it,  that  any 
pretty  girl,  or  even  one  not  pretty, 
who  will  cultivate  the  talents  edlotted 
to  her,  cherish  the  virtues  of  the  heart, 
and  walk  decorously  in  society,  will 
lose  nothing  by  adapting  the  colour, 
proportion  and  quality  of  her  dress  to 
tier  complexion,  figure  and  circum-< 
stances,  at  least  in  the  estimation  of 
the  judicious  of  either  sex.  As  for  the 
mere  dandy,  who  is  nothing  without 
dress,  and  very  little  with  it,  it  is  worse 
than  lost  time  to  dress  for  him. 


REOPE  FOR  A  LADrS  DRESS. 

Let  your  ear-rings  be  attention  en- 
circled by  the  pearls  of  refinement; 
the  diamonds  of  your  necklace  be  truthy 
and  the  chain  ckrietianity  ;  your  bo- 
som-pin charity  J  ornamented  with  the 
pearls  o( gentleness  /  your  finger-rings 
be  afecti(m,  set  round  with  the  dia- 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


HISCSLLANEOUS. 


moodt  of  mAiHnf ;  yoor  girdle  be 
simplicUyy  with  the  tussels  of  good 
humour  :  let  your  thicker  garb  be  vir- 
tue, and  your  drapery  |M>/i/6iie*«;  let 
your  shoes  be  wisdom^  secured  by  the 
buddes  of  jp&'severance. 

For  the  Masonic  Registkiu 
THEOPHILUS  AND  ACASTOxN. 

A  beautiful  summer's  moroing  had 
invited  Hieophilus,  at  an  early  hour 
|o  rise  from  bis  bad,  to  taste  the  sweet 
refreshing  breeze,  (in  company  with 
his  venerable  tutor ;)  the  sun,  just 
emerging  from  the  horizon,  began  to 
shed  his  reviving  light  and  heat  around 
our  hemisphere,  while  all  nature  seem- 
ed to  greet  his  appearance  with  grati- 
tude and  joy.  The  variegated  carpet 
of  nature  seemed  more  bright,  the  ef- 
fluvia from  the  trees,  now  in  blossom, 
more  delicious,  and  the  feathered 
songsters  of  the  woods  to  chant  their 
matin  lays  with  more  animation  than 
he  had  ever  observed  before:  he  felt 
like  a  philosopher  who  had  studied, 
all  hb  life,  in  the  deserts  of  Siberia, 
and  had  read  often,  but,  for  the  first 
time,  tasted  the  pleasures  of  a  more 
indulgent  clime. 

"  What  pleasure,  respected  Acas- 
TON,"  cries  he,  ^^  can  be  equal  to  that 
I  now  enjoy.  The  glare  of  midnight 
assemblies,  the  parade  of  the  rich,  or 
the  grandeur  of  the  most  elegant  man- 
sions or  cities,  are  trifling  in  compari- 
son with  those  charms  that  are  found 
in  nature.  Could  art  contrive  a  sight 
more  noble  than  the  rising  sun,  beyond 
those  lofty  hills,  whose  tops  are  al- 
ready illumined  by  his  vivifying  rays  ? 
Can  the  most  expert  gardener  plan  a 
more  elegant  retreat  from  its  perpen- 
dicular rays,  than  what  can  be  derived 
from  those  trees,  that  have  spontane- 
ously risen  in  elegant  disorder,  or  can 
the  best  orchestra  afford  such  soft  and 
enchanting  music,  as  that  which  arises 
from  every  surrounding  bush  ?  Why 
do  men  desert  the  simple  cot^  the  cul- 
tivated farm,  or  the  umbrageous  shel- 
ter of  softly  melancholy  groves,  for 


that  bane  of  all  virtue,  a  popidoas 
city  ?  Surely  the  studious  man  cannoc 
enjoy  his  dear  loved  meditations 
amidst  scenes  of  anxious  busiiiess,  or 
unphilosophic  pleasure;  or  humani- 
ty continue  its  geuerons  feelings  un- 
contamkiat^*  where  every  object- 
aroundf  hJm  >affofc<ls  the  gloomy  evi- 
dence ot  triuiiipbstfit.vice,  or  suflfering 
virtue;  where  the  n^isy  mirth  of  the 
hymenial  banqiiiet,.and  the  heart-pier- 
cing cries  of  funeral  sorrow,  strike  the 
ear  at  the  same  time :  and  where  the 
gay  or  gloomy  cavalcade  meet  us  at 
every  \am,  I  have  been  much  in 
lai^e  cilies,  have  studied  the  views  and 
dispositions  of  their  inhabitants,  and 
the  result  has  been,  a  fixed  dislike  to 
their  low  cunning  and  mercenary  pur- 
suits. Often  have  I  wished  that  my 
destiny  had  placed  me  as  a  resident  of 
some  more  benign  planet,  whose  hap- 
py inhabitants  have  no  occasion  to 
blush  for  the  vices,  or  weep  for  the 
miseries  of  their  fellow-creatures.'^ 

^^  If  you  ever  attain  to  such  a  happi* 
ness,"  replied  hb  tutor,  ^^  it  must  indeed 
be  in  some  other  planet ;  the  rural  re- 
treat has,  with  the  busy  city,  its  pe- 
culiar temptations,  and  human  nature 
has  the  bias  and  propensity  to  cherisk 
them ;  there  are  likewise  some  temp* 
tationsthat  are  natural  to  both.  Biblus 
is  as  much  a  drunkard,  and  a  knave, 
in  one  as  in  the  other,  for  he  carries 
with  him  the  same  inclinations  and 
views ;  and  while  these  are  his  rulings 
passions,  they  will  tyrannize  over  him 
when  opportunity  offers.    To  a  mind 
contaminated  by  avarice,    it  is   the 
same,  whether  he  empties  the  purse 
of  the  affluent,  or  grinds  the  face  of 
the  qpor.     He    seizes  with  avidity^ 
similar  in  its  principle,  the  earthen 
vessel,  or  straw  bed  of  the  cottager,  as 
the  silver  utensils,  or  down  couches  of 
the  luxurious ;  and  is  as  much  the  tT*> 
rant  of  the  plain  as  he  would  be  of  the 
city,  if  heaven  had  cursed  them  with 
his  residence." 

<<  Are  titers  then  no  pleasures  to  be 
derived  from  the  shady  groves  and 
sweet  retirement  of  rural  lUe  ?'^ 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


FOETICAt. 


W 


^  There  certainly  are.  Though  vice 
reigns  in  both,  virtue  may  find  a  resi- 
drace  in  either.  Yet  a  man  possessed 
of  sufficient  fortitude  and  virtue,  may 
be  more  useful  in  a  city,  than  in  a 
tpuntry  retirement ;  but  it  will  be  at 
die  Apence  of  every  enjoyment  that 
is  dear  to  /a  philosophical  mind :  and 
except  the  satisfaction  that  he  has 
done  his  duty,  he  has  little  to  compen- 
sate him  for  resigning  the  solitary  for- 
est and  the  purling  stream.'' 

AJ'.B. 


Bowery^  Oct.  ),  1820. 


POETICAL. 


FoK  TBS  MAfoine  RceiSTBJi. 

hN  EVENmO  VISIT   TO  A  SISTER'S 
GRAVE. 

Beaeadi  this  tarf  thit  fonn  reclines 
Which  late  bad  youth  and  beauty  t00| 

And  the  cold  grave  that  heart  confineti 
Habere  every,  plant  of  virtue  grew. 

Hot  ah,  the  kindred  spirit 's  fled, 
And  wither'd  leaves  bestrow  thy  grave  ; 

Save  where  the  wild  flow*n  lift  their  head, 
And  o*er  thy  lonely  mansion  wave. 

Say,  if  thy  spirit  hovers  near. 
And  listens  to  my  plaintive  lay  ? 

For  oft  thon  *st  check'd  the  falling  tear. 
And  drove  my  youthful  cares  away. 

IW  ebOdren  too,  no  more  shall  claim 
Thy  kindness  and  thy  guardian  care ; 

liipiiigl  heard  them  call  thy  name, 
Sot  ah  !  no  mother  answered  there ! 

Near  yonder  willow's  drooping  shade, 
Metfainks  I  see  thy  shadowy  form — 

And  BOW  it  flits  along  the  glade. 
And  flies  to  meet  the  coming  storm. 

**  Charlotte !"— thy  voice  is  silent  still. 
The'  foncy  seem'd  to  catch  the  sound  :— 

Twas  hut  the  noise  of  yonder  rill 
That  faintly  murmurs  o'er  the  ground. 

faBaeiBBtion  painted  gay 
xBy  pleasing  image  to  my  sight, 

Tet  quick  the  vision  speeds  away. 
Dissolving  in  the  shades  of  night 


I  111  leave  this  dreary  clime, 
WlKMeshoRsare  wasfa'd  by  sorrow's  wave, 
LuBOcfa  firom  yuk^rumbliiig  banks  of  time. 
And  land  wkh  thee,  beyond  the  grave. 


Oh,  then,  on  that  eternal  shore. 
Our  kindred  spirits  shall  unite, 

And  sorrow's  voice  be  beard  no  more, 
Nor  clouds  obscure  those  realms  of  light. 
Eoosmus. 


FoK 
(for 


Tho'  I've  o  M. 

ingi 
A  feeling 
Tho'  my  sp  not 

be  gone,  ^^ 
Tet  surely  it  cannot  be  love ! 
No,  I  am  not  in  love, 
No,  surely  it  cannot  be  love ! 

Tho'  tiie  eyes  of  Adonis  have  rays  that  will 
melt. 
Could  a  glance  all  my  foititude  move  * 
Tho'  I  feel  what  in  childhood  I  could  neC 
have  felt, 
Tet  surely  It  cannot  be  love ! 
NO|  I  am  DOtt  &c. 

Tho'  my  bosom  has  found  what  it  wishes 
to  hide. 
While  prudence  steps  in  to  reprove, 
Tho'  I  saw,  and  my  heart  beat,  I  blush'd 
and  I  sigh'd, 
Tet  surely  it  cannot  be  love ! 
No,  I  am  not,  &e.  M.T.  S. 


WOMAN. 

The  following  lines,  written  eiterapoiv,  are 

from  the  pen  of  Moses  T.  Scott 
There  is  a  ray  of  love  in  woman's  eye 
That  with  its  magic  wins  the  soul  it  warms. 
There  is  a  smile  of  beauty  on  her  lips 
That  soft-beguiling,  beckons  to  its  banquet : 
But  there's  a  mild  serenity  of  virtue 
That  in  thb  sonnv  paradise  prevails. 
Hallows  each  charm,  and  awes  profane 
approach. 


Fob  TBS  Masohic  Rsoistsb. 

Lines  addressed  to  the  beautiful,  but  more 

amiable  Miss  A——  3        ,  of  this  city, 

O  sweet  were  the  roses  I  saw  on  thy  cheek. 
And  sweet  were  the  blushes  that  rioted 

there. 
Bat  sweeter  the  language  they  mildly  did 

speak; 
But  ah,  twas  the  language  that  wkisper'd 

despair.  , 

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rOCTKAt. 


Ah  few  are  the  pieaswei  thii  world  can 

WAatour 

And  fewer  the  objects  that  kindle  them 

here. 
But  thine  eyes  can  eitingoish  the  poiion  of 

^^'  -     ^    ^^ 

ifltingr^  dear. 

lall  rush  o'er 

ershadow  its 

over  purity 

odours  from 
S.C. 


LT  MAOAZtiri. 

THE  SABBATH. 
Sweet  to  the  soul  the  parting  ray, 

Which  ushers  placid  evening  in» 
When  with  the  still  expiring  day, 

The  Sabbath's  peaceful  hours  begin ; 
How  grateful  to  the  anxious  breast, 
The  sacred  hours  of  holy  rest ! 

I  love  the  blush  of  vernal  bloom, 
When  morning  gilds  night's  sullen  tear ; 

And  dear  to  me  the  mournful  gloom 
Of  Autumn — Sabbath  of  the  year, 

But  purer  pleasures,  jovs  sublime, 

Await  the  dawn  of  Holy  Time. 

Hush'd  is  the  tumult  oCthe  day, 

And  worldly  cares,  and  business  cease. 

While  soft  the  vesper  breezes  play. 
To  hymn  the  glad  return  of  peace ; 

O  season  blest ;  O  moments  given 

To  turn  the  vagrant  thoughU  to  Heaven ! 

What  though  involv'd  in  lurid  nijj;ht, 
The  loveliest  forms  in  nature  tade. 

Yet  'mid  the  gloom  shall  heavenly  light. 
With  joy  the  contrite  lieart  pervade  ; 

O  then,  great  source  of  light  dWine, 

With  beams  ethereal  gladden  mine. 

Oft  as  this  hallowed  hour  shall  come, 

O  raise  my  thoughts  from  earthly  things. 
And  bear  them  to  my  heavenly  home, 

On  living  Caith's  immortal  wings- 
Till  the  last  gleam  of  life  deea^ 
In  one  eternal  Sabbath  Day ! 


FROM  THE   ABERDIEV  JOURHAL. 

HEAVEN. 

There  is  a  land  of  calm  delight, 
To  sorrowing  mortals  given ; 
There  rapturous  scenes  enchant  the  sight, 
And  all  to  soothe  their  souls  unite ', 
Sweet  is  their  rest — ^in  Heaven. 

There  ^lory  beams  on  all  the  plains ', 
And  joy,  for  hope,  is  given  ; 


There  nnisic  swelU  in  sWeeteA  stralas, 
And  spotless  beaut]^  ever  reigns ; 
Ana  all  is  love — in  Heaven. 

There  cloudless  sides  are  ever  bright. 
Thence  gloomy  scenes  are  driven  ; 
Thfcre  suns  dispense  unsullied  li£ht. 
And  planets,  beaming  on  the  si^t,    ^ 
niume  the  fields — of  Heaven. 

There  is  a  stream  that  ever  flows. 

To  passing  pilgrims  given ; 
There  fairest  truit  immortal  grows ; 
The  verdant  flower  eternal  blows 

"  Amid  the  fields — of  Heaven. 

There  is  a  great,  a  glorious  prize. 

For  tibse  with  sm  who've  striven  : 
'Tis  bright  as  star  of  evening  skies, 
And,  far  above,  it  glittering  Ties ; 
A  golden  croWn — in  Heaveo- 


FROIf  TB£  WtWKCU  OW  LAOT  eUIOlT. 

DIVINE  LOVE. 

Sweet  tenants  of  the  erove ! 

Who  sing  without  design, 
A  song  of  artless  love. 

In  unison  with  mine ; 
These  echoing  shades  retunl. 

Full  many  a  note  of  purs, 
That  wise  ones  cannot  learn. 

With  all  their  boasted  pow'rs. 

Oh  Thou !  whose  sacred  charms 

These  hearts  so  seldom  love, 
Altbourh  Thy  beauty  warms, 

And  olesses  all  above  ; 
How  slow  are  human  things, 

To  choose  their  happiest  lot ! 
All-glorious  King  of  kings. 

Say,  why  we  love  Thee  not  ? 


TO  OORRBSPONDENTS. 

We  have  received  our  friend  Atwater's 
letter  from  Cuxleville,  Ohio,  in  which  be 
states  that  he  has  delayed  his  promised 
communication,  on  the  antiouttles  of  that 
country,  a  short  time,  in  order  for  further 
investigation,  "by  which  it  will  lose  no- 
thing in  the  end."  We  hope  the  delay  will 
be  short,  as  many  of  our  readers  look  for 
his  communication  with  anxiety. 

«  Temporal  and  spiritual  love  contrast- 
ed,'* contains  most  excellent  sentimeDta* 
but  is  of  too  great  length  for  our  limits.*' 

Several  communications  were  received, 
just  as  the  last  sheet  of  this  number  was 
coing  to  press.  They  shall  receive  atten- 
Bon. ^^ 

HOTT  &  BOLMORE,  PRINTERS, 
70  Bowery,  Ne^-York. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


THE 


AMERICAN  MASONIC  REGISTER, 


AND 


Ladr^^^nd  Gentlemen's  Magazine. 


0  ■  ^-M  ' 


BY  LUTHER  PRATT. 


Oiarity  Bever  faileth :  but  whether  th^re  be  prophecies, tbey  shall  fail ;  whether  there  be 
tongiiesy  they  shall  oeaie;  whether  there  be  knowledge,  k  sliall  Tanisb  away. 

iad  now  abideth  faith,  hope,  charity,  these  three ;  but  the  greatest  of  these  b  cha- 
»iTT.  St.  Paul, 


[No.  III.]         FOR  NOVEMBER,  A.  D.  1820.  A.  L.  5820.         [Vol.  I.] 


MASONIC. 


OF  FOEMINO  A  NEW  LODGE. 

Any  number  of  master  Masons,  not 
mder  seven,  resolved  to  form  a  new 
lodge,  must  apply,  by  petition,  to  the 
grand  Master;  stating  that  they  are 
regubr  Masons,  and  are,  or  have  been, 
niembers  of  some  regularly  constituted 
lodge  or  lodges ;  that  feeling  aniious 
i)r  the  prosperity  of  ibe  fraternity,  they 
are  willing  to  exert  their  best  endeav- 
ours to  promote,  and  diffuse  the  genuine 
principles  of  Masoury :  that,  for  the 
cooveniency  of  their  respective  dwell- 
u^,and  other  substantial  reasons,  they 
ate  desiroiis  to  form  a  new  lodge,  to  be 
aamed       ?  and  have  nomi  nated  and  do 
recoBOiend  A.  B.  to  be  the  first  mas- 
ter, C.  D.  senior,  and  E.  F.  junior  war- 
deos :  that,  in  consequence  of  this  reso- 
kcioo,  they  pray  for  a  warrant  of  con- 
stitatioii,  to  empower  them  to  assemble 
»  a  r^ular  lodge,  on  the         of  every 
jBootli,  at         ,  ajid  then  and  there  to 
<focfaarge  the  duties  of  Masonry,  in  a 
i^idar  and  constitutional  manner,  ac- 
confiiig  to  the  original  forms  of  the  or- 
der,  and  the  hiws  of  the  grand  lodge ; 
daty  the  prayer  of  the  petition  being 
~ ,  thsy  proipise  a  strict  conform- 


ity to  all  the  regulations  and  commands 
of  the  grand  master,  and  to  all  the  con- 
stitutional laws  of  the  grand  lodge." 

This  application  being  properly 
signed,  and  recommended  by  bre- 
thren of  approved  reputation,  who  are 
acquainted  with  the  petitioners,  is  to 
be  laid  before  the  grand  lodge ;  and,  if 
it  meets  their  approbation,  a  warrant* 
is  granted,  in  form  similar  to  the  fol- 
lowing. 

FORM  OF  A  WARRAl«rr. 

S.  eRAtrO  WARDKir.        omAVD  MASTSR. 
J.  ORAVD  WARDEN.      B.  GRAKO  MASTER. 

WE,  The  grand  lodge  of  the  most 
ancient  and  honourable  fraternity  of 
free  and  accepted  Masons,  of  the  state 
of  ,  in  ample  form  assem- 

bled, according  to  the  old  constitu- 
tions regularly  and  solemnly  establish- 
ed under  the  auspices  of  prince  Ed- 
win, at  the  city  of  York,  in  Great 

*  A  dbpensation,  authorising  the  peti- 
tioQcrs  to  assemble  as  a  legal  lodse,  for  a 
specified  term  of  time  is  generally  issued 
preriDOs  to  the  granting  of  a  warmat.  In 
some  jurisdictions,  the  grand  and  deputy 
grand  masters,  respectively  have  power  of 
granting  such  dispensations,  during  fiie  re- 
cess of  tlie  grand  lodge.  Lodges  working 
under  dispensations,  are  considered  as 
merely  agents  of  the  grand  iodg^,  in  Which 
their  officers  have  neither  vote  nor  voice. 

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«2 


MASONIC. 


BritaiOy  hi  the  year  of  Masonry  4926, 

VIZ, 

GEAND  BIASTER. 
DEPUTY  GRAND  MASTER. 
SENIOR  GRAND  WARDEN. 
JUNIOR  GRAND  WARDEN. 

Do  by  these  presents,  appoiut,  autbor- 
ize,  and  empower,  our  worthy  brother 
to  be  the  master ;  our 
worthy  brother  to  be  the 

senior  warden ;  and  our  worthy  bro- 
ther to  be  the  junior  war- 
den, of  a  lodge  of  free  and  accepted 
Masons,  to  be,  by  virtue  hereof,  con- 
stituted, formed,  and  held 
which  lodge  shall  be  distinguished  by 
the  name  or  style  of 
and  the  said  master  and  wardens,  and 
their  8uccessoi*8  in  office,  are  hereby 
respectively  authorized  and  directed, 
by  and  with  the  asMstance  and  consent 
of  a  majority  of  the  members  of  the 
said  lodge,  duly  to  be  summoned  and 
present  upon  such  occasions,  to  elect 
and  install  the  officers  of  the  said  lodge 
as  vacancies  occur,  in  manner  and 
form  as  is  or  may  be  prescribed  by  the 
constitution  of  this  grand  lodge.  And 
further,  the  said  lodge  is  hereby  invest- 
ed whh  full  power  and  authority  to  as- 
semble upon  proper  and  lawful  occa- 
sions, and  to  make  Masons,  to  admit 
members,  as  ajsoto  do  and  perform  all 
and  every  sudi  acts  and  things  apper- 
taining to  the  craft,  as  have  been,  and 
ought  to  be  done,  for  the  honour  and 
advantage  thereof;  conforming  in  all 
their  proceedings  to  the  constitutions 
of  this  grand  lodge,  otherwise  this  war- 
rant and  the  powers  thereby  granted, 
to  ceUse  and  be  of  no  further  efiect. 
Given  under  our  hands,  and  the  seal 
of  our  grand  lodge,  in  the 

this 
day  of  in  the  year 

of  our  Lord,  one  thousand  eight 
faimdred,  and  and  in  the 

year  of  Masonry,  five  thousand 
eight  hundred,  and 

GRAND  SECRETARY. 

Registered  in  the  ^ 
book  of  the  grand  > 
lodge,  vol.    page     ) 


After  a  charter  Is  granted  by  the 
grand  lodge,  a  day  and  hour  is  ap- 
pointed by  the  grand  master,  for  the 
constituting  and  consecrating  the  new 
lodge,  and  for  installing  its  officers. 

If  the  ceremony  is  attended  by  the 
grand  master,  in  person,  the  lodge  is 
considered  to  be  constituted  in  a^* 
PLE  form;  if  by  the  deputy  grand 
master  only,  it  b  considered  to  be  coo-  ^ 
stituted  in  due  form  ;  but  if  the  power 
of  performing  the  ceremony  is  vested 
in  any  subordinate  lodge,  it  is  consid- 
ered only  to  be  constituted  in  form. 

When  it  is  inconvenient  for  the 
grand  officers  to  attend,  the  grand  mas- 
ter, or  his  deputy,  may  issue  an  in- 
strument, under  his  hand,  and  private 
seal,  empowering  some  worthy  pres- 
ent or  past  master,  to  conjngate,  con-* 
stitute,  and  install  the  petitioners. 

OF  CONSTITUTING,  AND  CONS^CRATlNO 
A  LODGE,  AND  INSTALLING  ITS  OP- 
FIGERS. 

At  the  time  appointed,  the  proper 
officers  for  performing  the  ceremony^ 
meet  in  a  convenient  room,' near  to 
that  in  which  the  lodge  to  be  constitu- 
ted is  assembled,  and  open  the  grand 
lodge  in  the  three  degrees. 

The  officers  of  the  new  lodge  are  to 
be  examined  by  the  deputy  grand  roas- 
ter ;  after  which  they  return  to  their 
own  lodge,  and  after  making  prepara- 
tions for  the  reception  of  the  grand 
lodge,  send  a  messenger  to  the  grand 
master,  informing  him  that  they  wait 
his  pleasure.  The  grand  lodge  then 
walk  in  procession  to  the  hall  of  the 
new  lodge,  where*  the  grand  honours 
are  given,  as  the  grand  master  enters ; 
and  the  officers  of  the  new  lodge  resign 
their  seats  to  the  grand  officers,  and 
take  their  several  stsUions  on  the  left. 
After  the  necessary  cautions  are  given, 
all,  excepting  masters,  and  past  mas- 
ters, are  requested  to  retire,  until  the 
master  of  the  new  lodge  is  placed  iq 
the  chair  of  Solomon.  After  wbicb, 
he  is  bound  to  the  foithfnl  peiformance 
of  his  duties,  and  invested  with  tlbt 
characteristics  of  his  office.    ^ 

Upon  due  noticei  the  kwetbren  ai0 

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83 


recondiicted  by  the  grand  marshal^  into 
tiie  bally  and  all  take  their  places,  ex- 
cepting the  members  of  the  new  lodge, 
who  form  a  procession  on  one  side,  to 
sahjte  their  master;  and  the  grand 
master  addresses  them;  '<  Brethren, 
behold  your  master!"  and  as  they 
pass,  they  make  the  proper  salutation. 
After  all  have  passed,  their  new  mas- 
ter jdns  them,  and  takes  his  appro- 
priate station.  After  which  a  grand 
processicni  is  formed  in  the  following 
order,  viz. 

Tyler  with  a  Drawn  Sword; 

Two  Stewards  with  White  Rods; 

Entered  Apprentices; 

Fellow  Crafts ; 

Master  Masons ; 

Stewards ; 

Junior  Deacons ; 

Senior  Deacons; 

Secretaries; 

Treasurers; 

Past  Wardens; 

Junior  Wardens; 

Senior  Wardens; 

Past  Masters; 

Royal  Arch  Masons; 

Knights  Templars; 

Masters  of  Lodges ; 

7^  New  Lodge. 

Tyler  with  a  drawn  sword ; 

Stewards  with  White  Rods ; 

Entered  Apprentices; 

Fellow  Crafte; 

Master  Masons; 

Deacons ; 

Secretary  and  Treasurer ; 

Two  ft^hren,  canying  the  Lodge;* 

Joni<»r  and  Senior  Wardens; 

The  Holy  Writings,  carried  by  the 

Oldest  Member,  not  in  Office ; 

The  Master; 

Music. 

Tke  Grand  Lodge. 

Grand  Tylor  with  a  Drawn  Sword; 

Grand  Stewards,  with  White  Rods; 

A  brother  carrying  a  Golden  Vessel 

of  C^n;t 


TIqwHb^ 


i  Whwit. 


Two  Brethren,  canying  Silver  Tea- 
sels ;  one  of  Wme,  the  other  of  Oil; 
Grand  Secretaries; 
Grand  Treasurer ; 
A  Boming  Taper,  borne  by  a  Past 

Master; 
A   Past  Master,  bearing  the   Holy 

Writings ; 
Square  and  compass  supported  by  two 

Stewards  with  Hods ; 
Two  Burning  Tapers,  borne. by  two 

Past  Masters ;  Clergy  and  Orator ; 

The  Tuscan  and  Composite  Orders ; 

The   Doric,   Ionic,   and   Corinthian 

Orders; 

Past  Grand  Wardens ; 

Past  Deputy  Grand  Masters; 

Past  Grand  Masters : 

The  Globes;     ^ 

Junior  and  Senior  Grand  Wardens  ^ 

Right  Worshipful  Deputy  Grand 

Master ; 

The  Master  of  the  Oldest  Lodge,  car^ 

rying  the-  Book  of  Constitutions ; 

The  M.  W.  Gbano  Master; 

The  Grand  Deacons,  on  a  line  seven 

feet  apart,  on  the  right  and  left  of 

the  Grand  Master,  with 

Black  Rods; 

Grand  Sword  Bearer,  with  a  Drawn 

Sword ; 

Two  Stewards  with  White  Rods. 

The  procession  then .  moves  on  to 
the  house  of  service,  where,  when  the 
front  of  the  procession  arrives,  the 
whole  halt,  open  to  the  right  and  left, 
and  face  inward,  while  the  grand  mas- 
ter and  others  in  the  rear,  pass  through, 
anc)  enter  the  Jiouse. 

The  grand  officers  are  seated  on  a 
platform,  in  front  of  the  pulpit.  The 
bible,  square  and  compass,  with  the 
book  (tf  constitutions,  are  placed  upon 
a  table  in  front  of  the  graud  master, 
the  lodge  is  placed  in  the  centre,  upon 
the  platform,  covered  with  white  silk 
or  linnen,  and  encompassed  by  the 
three  tapers,  and  the  vesseb  of  corn, 
wine,  and  oil. 

After  the  performance  of  a  piece  of 
music,  the  services  commence  with 
prayer.     An  appropriate  oration  or 

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MASONK). 


sermon,  is  then  delivered  by  the  grand 
chaplain,  or  some  other  suitable  per- 
son, which  is  succeeded  by  music,  &c. 

By  direction  of  the  grand  marshal, 
the  officers  and  other  brethren  of  the 
new  lodge,  form  in  front  of  the  grand 
master,  and  the  deputy,  thus  addresses 
him : 
«  Mo8t  Worshipful^ 

"  A  number  of  brethren,  duly  in- 
structed in  the  several  degrees  of  Ma- 
sonry, and  good  workmen,  having,  by 
virtue  of  a  warrant  granted  them  for 
that  purpose,  assembled  as  regular 
Masons,  do  now  desire  to  be  consti- 
tuted into  a  regular  lodge  under  the 
jurbdiction  of  this  grand  lodge ;  agree- 
able to  the  ancient  usages  and  customs 
of  the  fraternity  .*' 

Their  secretary  then  delivers  the 
charter  and  records  to  the  master  elect, 
who  presents  them  to  the  grand  master. 
The  grand  master  after  examining  the 
records,  if  they  are  found  correct,  pro- 
claims them  as  such,  and  says, 

<<  Upon  due  deliberation,  the  grand 
lodge  have  granted  the  brethren  of 
this  new  lodge,  a  charter,  confirming 
them  in  the  rights  and  privileges  of  a 
regidarly  constituted  lodge  ^  which  the 
grand  secretary  will  now  read.'^ 

After  tlie  charter  is  read,  the  grand 
master  says, 

"  We  shall  now  proceed,  according 
to  ancient  usage,  to  constitute  these 
brethren  into  a  regular  lodge.^ 

Whereupon  the  jewels  and  badges 
are  delivered  up  by  the  officers  of  the 
new  lodge,  to  their  master,  who  pre- 
sents them  with  his  own,  to  the  depu- 
ty grand  master,  and  he  to  the  grand 
master. 

The  deputy  graud  master  now  pre- 
sents the  master  o(  the  new  lodge  to 
the  grand  master,  saying, 

"  Most  Wwshipfulf  I  present  you 
brother  ,  whom  the  members 

of  the  lodge,  now  to  be  constituted; 
have  chosen  for  their  master.'' 

The  grand  master  asks  them,  if  they 
remain  satisfied  with  their  choice. 
\Tkey  bow,  in  token  of  assent.] 

The  master  then  presents,  one  after  H 


the  other,  his  wardens  and  other  oi!i« 
cers;  naming  them  and  their  office. 
The  grand  master  asks  the  brethren, 
if  they  are  satisfied  with  each  and  alt 
of  them.     [ITtey  bow  as  before  J] 

Next,  during  the  solemn  music,  the 
lodge  is  uncovered.  All  devoutly 
kneel.  The  music  ceases;  and  the 
grand  chaplain  rehearses  the  follow- 
ing or  some  other  suitable  prayer : 

"  Great  Architect  of  the  Universe ! 
Maker  and  Ruler t>f  all  worlds !  Deign, 
from  thy  celestial  temple,  from  realms 
of  light  and  glory,  to  bless  us,  in  all  the 
purposes  of  our  present  Assembly ! 

"  We  humbly  invoke  thee  to  give 
us  at  this,  and  at  all  times,  wisdont  in 
all  our  doings,  strength  of  mind  in  all 
our  difficulties,  and  the  beauty  of  haiw 
mony  in  all  our  communications ! 

"  Permit  us,  O  thou  centre  of  light 
and  life,  great  source  of  love  and  hap- 
piness, to  erect  this  lodge,  and  now 
solemnly  to  consecrate  It  to  the  honour 
of  thy  glory  I 

"  Glori/  be  to  God  on  Mghr^ 
[Response  by  the  brethren.] 

As  it  was  in  the  beginning,  is  now, 
and  ever  sJmU  be.    Amen  I    ' 

During  the  response,  the  deputy 
grand  master,  and  grand  wardens^ 
take  the  vessels  of  corn,  wine^  and  oil, 
and  sprinkle  the  elements  of  consecra- 
tion upon  the  lodge;  after  which  the 
grand  chaplain  proceeds : 

<<  Grant,  O  U>rd  our  God,  that  they 
who  are  now  about  to  be  invested  with 
the  government  of  this  loc^,  may  be 
endued  with  wisdom  to  instruct  their 
brethren  in  all  their  duties.  May  bro- 
therly love  and  charity  always  prevaii 
among  the  members  of  this  lodge ; 
and  may  this  band  of  union  continue 
to  strengthen  the  lodges  throughcHit 
the  world ! 

<<  Bless  all  our  brethren,  whereso- 
ever dispersed :  and  grant  speedy  re- 
lief to  all  who  are  either  OfifKessed  or 
distressed. 

"  We  affectionately  commend  to  thee 
all  the  members  of  thy  whole  family. 
May  they  increase  in  the  knowledge  ot' 
thee,  and  in  tile  love  of  each  other. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MAiomc 


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^Fhiallyy  may  we  flaish  all  otnr 
works  here  below,  with  thine  appro>- 
batloD ;  and  then  have  our  transition 
from  this  earthly  abode  to  thy  heaven- 
ly tenaple  above,  th<*re  to  enjoy  light, 
glory,  and  bliss  ine/fable ! 

Glory  he  to  God  on  high  ! 

[Rbsp<»;8b  by  the  brethren.] 

Ab  it  was  in  the  beginningy  m  now, 
&nd  ever  shall  be  / 

AxsN !  So  mote  it  be !  Amen  ! 

Then  succeeds  solemn  music,  while 
ihe  lodge  n  covering.  The  grand 
chaplain  then  dedicates  the  lodge,  in 
the  feOowing  terms : 

^To  tbe  memory  of  Holy  Saint 
John,  we  dedicate  this  lodge.  May 
efery  brother  revere  his  character, 
and  imitate  his  virtues ! 

^  COory  be  to  God  on  high/ 
[Rbsponsb  by  the  br^ren.] 

^  a  was  m  the  beginning,  is  nov, 
and  ever  shall  be,  world  without  end! 

Ambm  !  so  mote  it  be !  Amsn  ! 

After  this,  during  solemn  music,  the 
•fficers  of  the  new  lodge  advance  to 
stbte  the  grand  lodge,  with  their 
hands  crossed  oo  their  breasts,  bowing 
as  they  pMSs.  They  then  take  their 
pfaces,  wad  ^aad  as  they  were. 

Hie  intitie  cettses,  md  the  master 
proceeds  to  constittite  the  lodge,  as 
follows: 
Brethren^ 

In  the  name  of  the  most  worshipful 
grand  lod|e,  I  now  constkate  you  into 
a  lodge  of  free  and  accepted  Masons ; 
and  fraoi  henceforth  empower  yoa  to 
act,  as  a  regular  lodge,  constituted  in 
osalbrmity  to  the  rites  of  our  order, 
aad  the  cbafges  Gi  oar  ancient  and 
honourable  Eternity,  and  may  oar 
Soppeme  Grand  Master,  the  Great 
ArduteeC  of  tlie  Universe,  prosper, 
direct,  and  counsel  you  in  all  your  do- 
ngs. 

[Responm  by  the  members  of  Urn 
grmd  lodge.'] 

So  mote  It  be ! 

The  graad  honours  are  then  given, 
and  the  cereaony  of  mstallation  suc- 
ceeds. 

Tlw  gfaad  waastf  r  aiko  tbe  dqw^ 


grand  master,  wheAer  he  has  examin- 
ed the  master  nominated  in  the  war- 
rant ;  and  finds  bin  well  skilled  in  the 
science  of  Masonry,  and  worthy  to  be 
invested  wkh  the  government  of  a 
lodge? 

The  deputy  grand  master  answer- 
ing in  the  affirmative,  the  grand  mas- 
ter says,  "  Present  him  to  me.'' 

The  deputy  grand  master  takes  the 
master  by  the  hand,  and  presents  him 
to  the  grand  master,  saying, 
"Most  Worshipful, 

^  I  present  you  my  worthy  brother, 
,  to  be  installed  master  of  the 
new  lodge.  I  find  him  to  be  of  good 
morals,  and  of  great  skill,  true  and 
trusty ;  and  a  lover  of  the  whole  fra- 
ternity, wheresoever  dispersed  over 
the  face  of  the  earth ;  and,  I  doubt  not 
he  will  discbarge  his  duty  with  fide- 
lity.'' ^ 

The  grand  nnuter  then  says  to  him, 
«  Brother , 

"  Previous  to  your  investiture,  it  is 
proper  that  you  signify  your  assent  to 
those  ancient  charges  and  regulations, 
which  contain  the  duty  of  a  master  of 
a  lodge.  They  will  be  read  to  you 
by  the  grand  secretary." 

The  following  are  accordingly  read : 

<<  You  agree  to  be  a  good  man,  and 
true ;  and  strictly  to  obey  the  moral 
law. 

'^  You  agree  to  be  a  peaceable  sub> 
ject,  and  cheerfully  to  conform  to  the 
laws  of  the  country  in  which  yon  re- 
side. 

^  Yon  promise  not  to  be  concerned 
in  plots  or  conspiracies  against  go- 
vernment, but  patiently  to  submit  to 
the  decisions  of  the  supreme  legisla- 
ture. 

^You  agree  to  pay  a  proper  re- 
spect to  the  civil  magistrate ;  to  work 
diligendy,  live  in  credit,  and  act  ho- 
nourably with  all  men. 

^  You  agree  to  hold  in  veneration 
the  original  rulers  and  patrons  of  the 
order  of  Masonry,  and  their  regular 
successors,  supreme  and  subordinate, 
according  to  their  stations ;  and  to 
submit  to  the  awards  and  resolutions 

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of  your  brediren,  when  convened,  to 
every  case  consistent  with  the  Con- 
stitutions of  the  order. 

"  \ou  agree  to  avoid  private  quar- 
relsy^and  to  guard  against  aU  intempe- 
rance and  excess. 

^^  You  agree  to  be  cautious  in  your 
behaviour,  courteous  to  your  brethren, 
and  faithful  to  your  lodge. 

^^  You  promise  to  respect  true  and 
ftnthful  brethren,  and  to  discounte- 
sance  all  impostors. 

<^  You  agree  to  promote  the  gene- 
ral good,  to  cultivate  the  social  vir- 
tues, and  to  propagate  the  knowledge 
•f  true  Masonry. 

On  the  master  signifying  his  assent 
to  these  charges,  Uie  secretary  pro- 
ceeds to  read  the  following  regula- 
tions: 

"You  promise  to  submit  to  the 
grand  master  for  th^me  being,  and 
to  his  officers,  wheifduly  installed; 
and  stricdy  to  conform  to  every  regu- 
lation of  the  grand  lodge,  or  general 
assembly  of  Masons,  that  is  not  sub- 
versive of  the  principles  of  Masonry. 

"You  admit  that  it  is  not  in  the 
power  of  any  man,  or  body  of  men,  to 
■lake  alteration  or  innovation  in  Ma- 
sonry. 

"You  promise  a  regular  attend- 
ance on  the  committees  and  commu- 
Bicatiotis  of  the  grand  lodge,  on  re- 
ceiving proper  notice ;  and  to  pay  at- 
tention to  all  the  duties  of  Miasonry 
Ml  convenient  occasions. 

"  You  admit  that  no  new  lodge 
should  be  formed,  without  permission 
of  the  grand  master,  and  with  the  con- 
Knt  of  the  grand  lodge. 

"  You  admit  that  no  person  can  be 
tegularly  made  a  Mason,  or  admitted 
into  any  lodge,  without  previous  no- 
tice, and  due  inquiry  into  his  charac- 
ler* 

"^  You  promise  that  no  visiters  shall 
be  received  into  your  lodge,  without 
due  examination,  or  being  vouched  for 
by  some  well  known  brother. 

"  The^  are  the  regulations  of  free 
and  accepted  Masons.'' 


The  grand  master  then  addresses 
the  master  elect  in  the  following  man- 
ner: 

"  Do  you  submit  to  these  charges, 
and  promise  to  support  these  regula- 
tions, as  masters  have  done  in  all  ages 
before  you  ?" 

The  new  master  having  signified  his 
submission,  the  grand  master  says, 
"  Brother, 

"  In  consequence  of  your  conformi- 
ty to  the  charges  and  regulations  of  the 
order,  you  are  now  to  be  installed 
master  of  this  new  lodge,  in  full  confi« 
dence  of  your  care,  skill,  and  capacit/ 
to  govern  the  same.'' 

He  then  invests  him  with  his  jewel^. 
and  thus  addresses  him : 

"  I  invest  you  with  the  honourable 
badge  of  the  office  of  master  of  this 
lodge.  And  now  present  you  the  in* 
signia  of  your  office,  and  the  necessa* 
ry  furniture  of  your  lodge. 

"  The  Holy  Bible,  that  great  l%bt 
of  Masonry,  will  guide  you  to  all 
truth ;  will  direct  you  to  the  temple  of 
love :  and  point  to  you  t^e  whole  du* 
ty  of  man» 

"  The  Square  is  *  to  bring  all  rude 
matter  into  form,'  teaches  you  to  form 
and  instruct  all  Masons  under  yoar 
care,  and  to  make  them  perfect  in 
their  order. 

"  The  CofftpoMet  direct  you  to 
keep  your  brethren  within  the  limits 
of  Masonry :  and  so  to  regulate  your 
lodge,  tbdt  none  be  admitted  but  such 
as  are  worthy  that  higher  sphere  of 
merit,  and  of  worth. 

"  I  present  you  also  this  book^ 
which  contains  the  Canstitutioms  of 
Masonry,  Search  it  at  all  times.  Let 
it  be  read  in  your  lodge;  that  none 
may  pretend  ignorance  of  the  excel* 
lent  precepts  it  enjoins. 

"  Lastly,  I  give  into  your  charge  the  < 
By-lawM  of  your  lodge.  See  ttmt  ev« 
ery  member  abides  by  them." 

The  iewels  of  the  officers  of  the 
new  lodge  are  then  returned  to  the 
master,  who  delivers  them  respective* 
iy  to  the  officers  of  the  grand  lodge^ 
according  to  dlieir  nmk.    The  officers 

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U'  tke  mnd  kxlge,  thea  proceed  to 
brest'  the  officers  of  the  new  lodge, 
with  their  respective  jewels ;  the 
irand  wardens,  iavestiiig  the  wardens 
of  the  oew  lodge ;  the  grand  secreta- 
ry, the  secretary,  and  so  on,  according 
to  their  rank ;  at  the  same  time  pre- 
lentil]^  the  new  officers  to  the  grand 
oaster,  who  delivers,  or  causes  to  be 
delivered  to  each  of  them  a  short 
diarge. 

(To  be  concladed  in  our  next.) 

GRAND  LODGE  W  KEr^TUCKY. 

The  following  is  a  complete  list 
d'the  lodges  under  the  jurisdiction  of 
Ibe  grand  lodge  of  Kentucky,  at  their 
ooBuamaication  in  August  last,  with 
which  we  have  been  favoured  by  our 
worthy  brother  Edmund  Guthrie,  Esq. 
worsliiplul  master  of  Bloomfield  lodge, 
Jfo.  57. 

heodngton  LodgCy  No.  1. — Lexing- 
toB,  Fayette  county.  Saturday  buc- 
ceedtng  the  second  Monday.* 

Sram  Lodge^  No.  4. — Frankfort, 
Fnakiin  county.     Third  Monday.* 

Soionum's  Lodge,  No.  5.— Shelby- 
tile,  Sbdby  county.  Third  Monday.* 

MrmkoM^s  Lodge,  No.  8. — Louis- 
vSe,  Jeietvon  county.     Second  Mon- 

Jertual  m  Lodge,  No .  9*-**Hender- 
«fi,  Henderson  county.  Saturday 
SDccecfiag  the  first  Monday.* 

Sr.  Jokn^s  Lodge,  No.  11.— Flem- 
mgabarg,  Fleming  county.  First  Sat- 
vday.* 

Mama  Vernon,  No.  14. — George 
twn^  Scott  county.    First  Monday.* 

Paris  Vnkm  Lodge,  No.  l6. — Pa- 
nt, Bourbon  county.  Second  Satur- 
day* 

RMBebnOe  Lodge,  No.  17— Rus- 
Kirille,  L.ogan  county.  Saturday  suo- 
eeedfa^  the  third  Monday.* 

'A.  Andrew^s  Lodge,  No.  18.—- 
CjBtbiaiia,  Harrison  county.    Second 

WmMngUm  Lodge,  No.  19.— 
WMJilmlony  Mason  coonty.     First 


MASONIC.  87 

WinckoBter  Lodge^  No.  2a— Win- 
chester, Clark  county.  First  Fri- 
day.* 

Madison  Lodge,  No.  21. — Hunts- 
ville,  Madison  county,  state  of  Ala* 
bama.     First  Friday.* 

Daviesf^  Lodge,  s^o.  22. — Lexmg- 
ton,  Fayette  county.  Second  Mon- 
day.* 

Montgomery  Lodge,  No.  23.— 
Mount  ^rling,  Montgomery  county. 
Second  Friday.* 

Allen  Lodge,  No.  24. — ^Glasgow, 
Barren  County.     First  Friday.* 

Richmond  Lodge,  No.  25. — ^Rich- 
mond, Madison  coimty.  Second  Fri- 
day.* 

MaymnRe  Lodge,  No.  26. — Mays- 
ville,  Mason  county.  Second  Fri^ 
day.* 

Columbia  Lodge,  No.  27* — Co- 
lumbia, Adair  county.  Tuesday  suc- 
ceeding the  first  Monday.* 

FrankUn  Lodge,  No.  28.-^Dan- 
ville,  Mercer  county.  First  Satuiw 
day.* 

BwrbviUe  Lodge,  No.  30.— Buiflu- 
ville,  Cumberland  county.  Friday 
preceding  the  second  Monday.* 

Simpmrn  Lodge,  No.  31. — ^New« 
Castle,  Henry  county.  Fust  Mon- 
day.* 

Saint  PauPa  Lodge,  No.  32.— 
Middletown,  Jefferson  county.  First 
Friday.* 

Lawrence  lAxlge,  No.  34. — Shaw^ 
neetown,  Gallatin  county,  State  of  Illi- 
nois. 

Murray  Lodge,  No.  35. — Lexing- 
ton, Fayette  county.  Friday  suc- 
ceeding the  second  Monday.* 

Hofkimville  Lodge,No.  37,— -Hop- 
kinsville,  Christian  county.  Thurs- 
day succeeding  the  fir^t  Monday.* 

Barditown  ljodge,No,  38. — Bards- 
town,  Nelson  county.  Third  Satur- 
day.* 

Amity  Lodge,  No.  40.— Millers- 
burg,  Bourbon  county.  Third  Satur- 
day.* 

LanAnark  Lodge,  No.  41. — Yer- 
saillesy  Wood^Mrd  comity.  First  Mon* 
day.* 

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MASONIC. 


Induitry  Lodge,  No.  42. — Fratik- 
finrt,  Franklin  coun^.  First  Monday.* 
Feliciana    Lodgej    No.    46. — St. 
Francbville,  Feliciana  county,  Louis- 
iana.    Last  Saturday.* 

Fortitude  Lodge,  No.  47.— Tran- 
sylvania, Jefferson  county.  Third 
Saturday.* 

Springfield  LodgCy  No.  50.— 
Springfield,  Washington  coonty.  Se- 
cond Saturday.* 

Clark  Lodgey  No.  51. — Louisville^ 
Jefferson  couoty.  Firet  and  llurd 
Thursdays.* 

Confidence Lodge^f^o.  52. — Mays- 
ville,  Mason  county.  Second  Satttr« 
day* 

Warren  Lodge,  No.  55. — Harrods- 
borg,  Mercer  county.  Friday  suc^ 
ceeding  the  second  Monday.* 

Greenshurg  Lodge,  No.  54. — 
Greensbnrg,  Greene  comity.  Fourth 
Monday.* 

Webb  Lodge,  No.  55. — Owings- 
ville,  Bath  county. 

Burlington  Lodge,  No.  ^6. — Bur- 
lington, ^Soom  connty. 

Bloomfield  Lodge,  No.  57.— 
Bloomfiefd,  Nelson  county.  Second 
and  fourth  Saturdays.* 

BenewAence  Lodge,  No.  58.-* 
Blue  Spring,  Fayette  county. 

Arkamaa  L^e,  No.  59. — Arkan- 
sas, Arkansas  coonty,  MissouH  terri- 
tory. 

Lincoln  Lodge,  No.  60.— ^Stanford, 
Lincoln  county. 

Hart  Lodge,  No.  6l. — Nicholas" 
ville,  Jessamine  county^ 

Aurora  Lodge,  No.  62.— Freder- 
icksburg, Oallath)  county. 

Temple  Lodge,  No.  63 — Covidg- 
ton,  Campbell  county. 

Lancaster  Lodge,  No.  64.-^-Lan- 
caster,  Garrard  county. 

Nicholas  Lodge,  No.  65.*-^arli8l«!, 
Nicholas  county. 

Morganfield  Lodge,  No.  66. — 
Morganfield,  Union  coonty. 

Port  WiUiam  Lodge,  U.  D.— Port 
William,  Gallatin  county. 

•Regular  eommimications  every  moatik 


MASONIC  MAXIM. 
Be  thankful  that  thou  wert  born  in 
a  country,  which  is  blessed  with  ibe 
glorious  light  of  the  gospel.  Confes, 
thb  divine  religion  every  where,  and 
let  none  of  its  duties  be  neglected. 

BY-LAWS 

or  BLOOMFIELD   LODGE,  NO.  57, 

In  Bloomfield,  Nelson  county,  Ken- 
tucky. 
Section  1.  The  LoAge  shall  meet 
on  the  second  and  fourth  Saturdays  in 
each  month,  on  each  St,  John's  day, 
and  such  other  times  as  the  master  or 
presiding  officer  may  thick  proper. 

Sec.  2.  The  offiicers  shall  be  cho- 
sen on  each'St.  John's  day.  No  mem.* 
ber  in  arrears  shall  vote  or  be  voted 
for.  A  committee  of  accounts  shall 
be  appointed  at  the  same  time,  or 
when  necessity  may  require. 

Sec.  3.  The  treasurer  shall  pay  no 
moneys,  but  on  the  order  of  the  mas- 
ter or  presiding  officer,  with  the  cob« 
sent  of  the  lodge. 

Sec.  4.  Any  member  may  with- 
draw by  paying  all  dues  and  giving 
notice.  The  secretary  shall,  on  ap* 
plication  of  any  member  who  has  paid 
all  dues  and  obtained  leave  of  the 
lodge,  deliver  him  a  diploma  in  pro* 
per  form,  for  which  he  may  demand 
and  receive  of  the  applicant  one  dek 
lar. 

Sec.  5.  Any  member  in  arrears  six 

months,  shall  be  notified  of  the  sam^ 

by  the  secretary ',  af^er  which  he  n»a|r 

he  suspended  until  payment  is  made. 

Seg.  6.  Petitions  for  initiation  taoA 

be  accompanied  with  ten  doUana 

must  be  recommended  by  two  master 
Masons,  and  lie  over  one  month,  and 
admitted  by  an  unanimous  vote.  If 
rejected,  the  money  to  be  returned. 

Sec.  7*  If  a  candidate,  after  bcm^ 
elected^  fails  to  attend  for  initkitioa 
three  months,  unless  for  good  caiEifitt, 
to  be  determined  at  a  stated  meetia^ 
he  shall  forfeit  his  deposit,  and  to  be 
considered  as  if  he  had  never  presenlMI 
a  petition* 

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Svec.  8.  A  by  brother  i^ishing  to 
become  a  member  of  tfais  lodge,  most 
produce  (m  acquittance  for  aH  dues 
/rom  ihe  lodge  of  which  he  was  last  a 
member,  if  in  the  United  States,  aud 
be  recommemled  and  ballotted  for  as 
a  raadidate  for  initiation. 

Sec.  9.  Any  brother  desirous  of 
beiog  advanced,  must  undergo  an  ex- 
aaiioation  in  open  lodge ;  afAT  which 
the  propriety  of  advancing  him  to  the 
proposed  d^ee,  shall  be  decided  by 
beBoiy  and  unanimity  shall  be  neces- 
«ry. 

Sbcx.  10.  The  iees  for  initiation, 
passing,  and  raising,  shall  be  ten  dol- 
lars each,  to  be  paid  before  the  d^ree 
is  conferred.  For  admisiijon  (if  not 
made  in  this  lodge)  two  dollars. 

Sec  11.  Each  member  shall  pay 
a  monthly  contribution  of  twenty-five 
cents,  and  fifty  cents  ou  each  St. 
John's  day. 

Sec.  12.  The  tyler  shall  receive 
<me  dollar  for  each  meejting  he  attends 
and  performs  the  duties  of  his  office. 

Sac  13.  All  committees  shall  be 
appcmited  by  the  master.  The  mas- 
ter and  wardens  shall  be  a  committee 
af  charity. 

Sbc  14.  At  the  stated  meetings 
aft  boBUiegs  must  originate.  No  busi- 
■eas  can  be  transacted  at  an  extraor- 
dimary  meeting,  except  that  for  which 
it  is  convened. 

Sac  15.  Propositions  to  amend 
die  by*lavs  must  be  made  in  writing, 
at  a  stated  meeting,  and  lie  over  one 
vacation. 

Unanimoosly  approved,  July  20, 

EnM.  GoTHRiR,  Master, 
Attest.  E.  B.  Miles,  Secretary. 


diUNB  ENCAMPMExNT  OF  THE 
STATE  OF  INEW  YORK. 

PewUt  Clinton,  M.  E.  I.  G.  M. ; 
yfcofnaB  Lowndes,  D.  G.  M. ;  Alex- 
raider  S.  Glass,  G.  Generalissimo; 
£^ra  AnieSy  C.  General;  Jonathan 
Sebiefieiio,  S.  G.  Warden;  Gerrit 
^iCo^aii,  J.  6.  Warden ;  Rev,  James 


M 


Milnor,  G.  Orator  i  Harman  Wester- 
velt,  G.  Recorder ;  Joseph  Guion,  G. 
Treasurer;  Tobias  W.  Bedell,  G. 
Standard  Bearer;  S'das  Lyon,  G.  S. 
Bearer;  Ht^ea  Dodge,  G.  Centinel. 

COLUMBIAN  ENCAMPMENT  OF 
KNIGHT  TEMPLARS,  No.  6. 

George  Howard,  M.  E.  G.  Com- 
mander; Gerrit  Morgan,  Generalissi- 
mo; John  G.  Munn,'  Captain  Gene- 
ral; Aaron  II.  Palmer,  Prelate;  J. 
W.  Bedell,  S.  Warden ;  Joseph  Ho- 
mer,  J.  Warden;  N.  Rosse,  Treas- 
urer; J.  Jones,  Recorder;  Joseph 
Potter,  Warder;  F.  L.  Vultee,  S. 
Bearer ;  B.  U.  Peck,  Standard  Bear- 
er; John  Utt,  Centinel.  Regular 
communications  on  the  fourth  Thurs- 
days in  May,  August,  November,  and 
February. 

GRAND  COUNCIL  OF  ROTAL  MAS- 
TER  MASONS. 

Silas  Lyon,  T.  111.  R.G.  M.;  Ger- 
rit  Lansing,  D.  R.  G.  M. ;  Hosea 
Dodge,  G.  Warder;  P.  T.  Decevce, 
G.  R.  M. ;  Gerrit  Morgan,  S.  G.  R. 
M.;  Joel  Jone^,  J.  G.  R.  M.;  Thomas 
Slade,  G.  R.  R.;  Caleb  Bacon,  G.  R. 
T.;  B.  W.  Peck,  G.  R.  H.;  Joseph 
Potter,  G.  R.  C. ;  John  Utt,  G.  R.  C. 
Regular  communications  on  the  eighth 
of  every  lunar  month. 

AARON'S  BAND  OF  R.  P.  No.  L 
Hosea  Dodp:e,  R.  [L  P.  J.  P.;  B. 
W.  Peck,  K.  l\,  P.  6.  P. ;  Josesh  Pot- 
ter,  R.  H.  P.  5  P. ;  Daniel  Sickels, 
R.  fl.  P.  4  P.;  Joel  Jones,  R.  H.  P. 
3  P. ;  Gerrit  Morgan,  R.  H.  P.  2  P.; 
Gair  Blanchard,  R.  H.  P.  1  P.;  A. 
Bell,  secretary.  Regular  communica- 
tions once  every  lunar  month. 

LLST  OF  PAST  MASTERS, 
In  tJte  city  of  Ntto-Yorky  and  its 

t  vicinity, 

St.  Jokn\  No,  I.  Stephen  Kings- 
land,  Daniel  Sutherland,  Lewis  Sey* 
mour,  Thaddeus  Seymour,  Samuel  S. 
S.  Hoyt,  Stephen  Cave,  Jonas  Bush, 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


90 


MASOttm. 


George  Carrol^  Williaiu.  Lairrence, 
Isaac  Hand. 

Independent  Rot^  Arch,  No.  2.— 
Lincoln  Tibbab,   Nicholas    Rooine,/| 
J(»ho  P.  Roome,  John  N.  ^obnston^  J. 
Van  Benschocen^  Daniel  Stanton,  Geo. 
M'Kinley. 

St.  Andrews^  No.  7.— Martin  Tloff- 
man,  Cornelius  Bogert,  George  Bruce^ 
Thomas  W.  Garniss,  John  Leonard. 

St.  Ji)hn\  No.  9.— -Archibald  Ball, 
Thomas  Foote,  James  Lyons,  sen. 
James  Lyons,  jun.  Samuel  B.  Fleming. 

Hiram^  No.  10. — T*  Waring.  Sam- 
uel Montgomery,  John  Marriner,  E. 
Guion,  Edward  Rockwell,  HenryAbel, 
Resolvent  Stephens,  James  Bertinc* 

Hollamdj  No.  16.t — Elias  Ilicks,  A. 
S.  Glass,  Thomas  Slidcll,  William  M. 
Price,  Abraham  Lott. 

Trinky,  No.  Si). — J.  Navaro,  J. 
Vanderbih,  jun.  J.  S.  Delamnter,  John 
Utt,  Philip  Earle,  William  Monroe. 

PhcsitiXf  No.  40* — George  Hodg- 
son, Gerrit  Lansing,  William  Carlisle, 
JHUies  R.  Stuart,  Samuel  C.  Sutton, 
John  Sickels,  jun.  Pierre  Teller. 

U  Union  FrancaUe^  No.  74. — John 
G.  Tardy,  Pierre  Feriere,  Joseph 
Bouchaud. 

Ahram%  No.  83. — John  Coffin, 
Adrian  Hageman,  Nevison  Greenard, 
Robert  Young,  Zebedee  Ring,  William 
Bakcwell,  Daniel  D.  Smitjb,  Bush  Q. 
Brown,  James  Webster. 

WoBJiington^  No.  84. — ^Thomei 
Lownds,  David  Dunham,  Matthew  L. 
Davis,  Stephen  Baker,  Thomas  MiU 
fer,  Asher  Martin,  Jonathan  Carlton, 
William  H.  Bogle,  John  Brady. 

Warren^  No.  85. — Samuel  Jones, 
jun.  Thumas  Walden,  Abraham  S. 
Hallett,  John  W.  Mulligan,  Richard 
Hatfield,  Aaron  H.  Palmer,  Samuel 
Hawkins,  Watson  £.  Lawrence. 

Adelphiy  No.  91. — Benjamin  Price, 
William  H.  Hunter,  Archibald  Craig, 
John  R.  Satterlee,  Matthew  Reed, 
John  L  Boyd. 

Fraternal,  No.  107.— David  L 
Dani^,  Francis  Dunbar,  John  Ditch- 
ett,  /onas  Humbert,  jun.  Zadock 
Seeiy,  Wdter  Barmore. 


JMbrfon,  No.  I08.--John  Degez, 
Sidney  W.  Andrews,  Isaac  Bogert, 
James  Smith,  Peter  D.  Turcot,  Caleb 
Bacon,  Daniel  Sickles. 

Mount  Moriahj  No,  132-— Hcnrjr 
C.  Southwick,  Bernard  Sprong,  George 
W.  Heyer,  Charles  Debevoise,  Jofci 
M^MuHen,  Thomas  F.  Popham,J.  M. 
Lester,  Simeon  Van  Bearen. 

Beit^len^,  No.  1 42.— Sam'l  Clark,  i 
B.  Andariese,  J.  Forester,  H.  Marsh,  { 
William  Homan,  R.  O.  P^arsall. 

Clinton y  No.  143. — Samson  Sim* 
son,  Richard  Riker,  John  L  SickeU, 
Roswell  W.  Lewis,  Daniel  Rapelyc, 
John  Telfare,  James  P.  Allaire. 

Meclumic,  No.  153. — J.  M*C«be 
Joseph  Burjeau,  William  M^Laughlan, 
Thomas  Barker,  Andrew  Lloyd. 

Neta  Jeruealeniy  No.  158. — Matthew 
McGinn,  Arthur  M'Carter. 

Concordy  No.  304. — George  B. 
Smith. 

German  Union,  No.  322. — Charles  i 
Meyer,  Philip  Becanon.  I 

Fortitude,  No.  84. — ^Isaac  Nicliols, 
L.  Van  Nostrand,  G.  Duryea,  Joha 
Harmer,  James  Boyd,  John  Hamoill. 

AN  ADDRESS  TO  FREE  MASONS 

IN  GENERAL. 
To  stretch  forth  your  hands  to  as- 
sbt  a  brotlier  whenever  it  is  in  your 
power ;  to  be  always  ready  to  go  any 
where  to  serve  him ;    to   ofifer  your 
warmest  petitions  for  his  welfare ;  to 
open  your  breasts  and  hearts  to  him ; 
to  assist  him  with  your  best  counsel 
and  advice ;  to  soothe  the  anguish  of 
ins  soul,  and  betray  no  cooiideDce  he 
reposes  in  you;  to  support  him  with 
your  authority;  to  use  your   utmost 
endeavours  to  prevent  hina  from  fall- 
ing ;  to  relieve  his  wants  as  far  as  you 
are  able,  without  injuring  yourselves 
or  your  families.    lu  short,  mutually 
to  support  and  assist  each  other,  and 
earnestly   to  promote  one    another's 
interests,  are  duties  which  (well  yoy 
kndw)  are  incumbent  upon  you.     Bui 
do  these  duties  always  infioence  you  ? 
Are  they   not  too  often    forgotten  ? 
Your  worthy  brother  top  frequettly 

Digit^ed  by  Google  ^  ^\ 


MASONIC. 


91 


Beglected,  and  the  stranger  preferred 
to  those  of  your  own  household  ?  Ye 
are  cooaected  by  solemn  promises; 
let  those  always  be  so  remembered  as 
lo  direct  your  actions :  for  then,  and 
ihea  only,  will  you  preserve  your  con- 
sciences void  of  offence,  and  prepare 
that  linn  cement  of  utility  and  affec- 
tion, which  tia:ie  will  have  no  power 
Co  destroy,  a  p.  m. 


Xa£  FIVE  POINTS  OF  FELLOWSHIP 
ILLUSTRATED. 

1.  When  the  necessities  of  a  bro- 
tber  call  for  my  aid  and  support,  I 
will  be  ever  ready  to  lend  him  such 
assistance  to  save  him  from  sinking, 
as  may  not  be  detrimental  to  myself  or 
ccNmections,  if  I  iind  him  worthy 
thereof. 

2.  Indolence  shall  not  cause  my 
JKitrteps  to  halt,  nor  wrath  turn  them 
aside ;  but  for^tting  every  selfish 
consideration,  I  will  be  ever  swift  of 

to  serve,  help,  and  execute  bene- 
to  a  fellow  creature  in  dis- 
w,  and   more  particularly   to   a 
brother  Mason. 

3.  When  I  offer  up  my  ejaculations 
to  Aloaighty  God,  a  brother's  welfare 
i  will  remember  as  my  own ;  for  as 
die  voices  of  babes  and  sucklings  as- 
cend to  the  Throne  of  Grace,  so  most 
aaaoredly  will  the  breathings  of  a  fer- 
vent beart  arise  to  the  mansions  of 
blias,  as  our  prayers  are  certainly  re- 
quired o(  each  other. 

A*  A  brother's  secrets,  delivered  to 
oae  as  such,  I  will  keep  as  I  would  my 
own;  as  betraying  that  trust  mighl 
be  doing  him  ^  greatest  injury  he 
Gosid  sustain  in  his  mortal  life ;  nay^ 
ic  would  be  like  the  villany  of  an  as- 
sassia,  who  lurks  in  d^kness  to  stab 
lus  advenary,  when  unarmed,  and 
least  prepared  to  meet  an  enemy. 

5.  A  brother's  character  I  will  sup- 
port, in  his  absence  as  I  would  in  his 
i:  I  will  not  wrongfully  revile 
myself^  nor  will  I  sufier  it  to  be 
dooe  by  otbersj  if  in  my  power  to  pre* 
iu 


Thus  by  the  five  pomts  of  fellow^ 
ship  we  are  linked  together  in  one  in- 
divisible chain  of  sincere  affection, 
brotherly  love^  relief,  and  truth. 


a  p.  Bt.. 


SECRECY. 

One  of  the  principal  parts  that 
makes  a  man  be  deemed  wise,  is  his 
intelligent  strength  and  ability  to  cov- 
er and  conceal  such  honest  secrets  as 
are  committed  to  him,  as  well  as  liis 
own  serious  affairs.  And  whoever  pe- 
ruses sacred  and'profane  history,  finds 
a  great  number  of  virtuous  attempts, 
in  peace  and  war,  that  never  reached 
their  designed  ends,  through  defect  of 
secret  concealment ;  and  yet,  besides 
such  unhappy  prevention,  infinite  evils 
have  thereby  ensued.  But  before  all 
other  examples,  let  us  consider  that 
which  excels  all  the  rest,  derived  even 
from  God  himself.  WHio  so  especially 
preserves  his  own  secrets  to  himself, 
never  letting  any  man  know  what 
should  happen  on  the  morrow;  nor 
could  the  wise  men  in  ages  past  divine 
what  should  befall  us  in  this  age: 
whereby  we  may  readily  discern  that 
God  himself  js  well  pleased  with  se- 
crecy. And  ahhough,  for  man's  good, 
the  Lord  has  been  pleased  to  reveal 
some  things,  yet  it  is  impossible  at  any 
time  to  change  or  alter  bis  determina- 
tion J  in  regard  whereof  the  reverend 
wise  men  of  ancient  times,  evermore 
affected  to  perform  their  intentions 
secretly. 

We  read  that  Cato,  the  censor,  of- 
ten said  to  his  friends,  that  of  three 
things  he  had  good  rrason  to  repent,  if 
ever  he  neglect^  the  true  perform- 
ance of  them ;  the  first,  if  ever  he  di- 
vulged any  secret ;  the  second,  if  he 
adventured  on  the  water  when  he 
might  stay  on  dry  land ;  and  thirdly, 
if  he  should  let  any  day  neglectedly 
escape  him  without  doing  some  good 
action.  The  latter  two  are  well  wor- 
thy of  observation,  but  the  first  con* 
eema  our  present  underuking. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


92 


MASONiC. 


Alexander,  having  received  divers 
letters  of  great  importance  from  his 
mother,  after  he  had  read  them,  in  the 
presenQB  of  none  but  his  dear  friend 
EpbestioH,  he  drew  forth  his  signet, 
which  sealed  his  most  private  letters, 
and  without  spealdng,  set  it  upon 
Ephestion's  lips,  intimating  thereby, 
that  he  in  whose  bosom  a  man  buries 
his  secrets,  should  have  his  lips  locked 
up  from  revealing  them. 

Anaxarchus  (as  related  by  Pliny,  in 
his  seventh  book,  and  twenty-third 
chapter)  who  was  taken,  in  order  to 
force  his  secrets  from  him,  bit  his 
tongue  in  the  midst  between  his  teeth, 
and  afterwards  threw  it  into  the  ty- 
rant^s  face. 

Qiiintius  Curtius  tells  us,  that  the 
Persians  held  it  as  an  inviolable  law 
to  punish  most  grievously  (and  much 
more  than  any  other  trespass)  him  that 
discovered  any  secret ;  for  confirma- 
tion thereof,  he  says,  that  king  Darius, 
being  vanquished  by  Alexander,  had 
made  his  escape  so  far  as  to  hide  him- 
self where  he  thought  he  ntight  rest 
secure;  no  tortures  whatsoever,  or 
liberal  promises  of  recompense,  could 
prevail  with  the  faithful  brethren  that 
knew  it,  or  compel  them  to  disclose  it 
to  ahy  person.  And  he  farthermore 
sa^^s,  that  no  man  ought  to  commit  any 
matter  of  consequence  to  him  that  can- 
not truly  keep  a  secret. 

Lycurgus,  among  his  continual  laws, 
would  have  every  man  keep  secret 
whatsoever  was  done  or  said.  For 
this  reason  the  Athenians  were  wont, 
when  they  met  at  any  feast,  that  the 
most  ancient  among  them  should  shew 
every  brother  the  door  whereat  lie  en- 
tered, saying ;  Take  heed  that  not  so 
much  as  one  word  pass  out  from 
hence,  of  whatsoever  shall  here  be  act- 
ed or  spoken. 

The  first  thing  that  Pythagoras 
tauehi  his  scholars  was  to  be  silent, 
therefore  (for  a  certain  time)  he  kept 
them  without  speaking,  to  the  end  that 
they  might  the  better  learn  to  preserve 
the  valuable  secrets  he  had  to  commu- 
nicate to  them,  and  never  to  speak  but 


when  thne  required,  ezpiessiug  there^ 
by  that  secrecy  was  the  rarest  virtue. 

Aristotle  v^  asked  what  thing  ap- 
peared most  difficult  to  him ;  he  an- 
swered, to  be  secret  and  silent. 

MASONIC  PRECEPTS. 

Thy  first  homage  thou  owest  to  the 
Deity.  Adore  the  Being  of  ail  beings, 
of  whom  thy  heart  is  full :  although 
thy  confined  intellects  can  neither 
conceive  nor  tlescribe  God. 

The  mother  country  of  a  Mason  is 
the  world  ;  all  that  concenui  mankind 
is  contained  within  the  drcle  of  bis 
compass. 

Look  down  with  paty  upon  the  de- 
plorable madness  of  those  who  torn 
their  eyes  from  the  light,  and  wander 
about  in  the  darkness  of  accidentia 
events. 

Let  all  thy  actions  be  distinguished 
by  enlightened  piety,  without  bigotry 
or  fanaticism. 

Love  affectionately  all  those  who, 
as  ofisprings  of  the  same  progenitor, 
have  like  thee  the  same  form,  the  same 
wants,  and  an  immortal  soul. 


MASOmC   ADDRESS. 

The  following  ADDRESS  was  deliv-  i 
ered  at  Bath,  in  the  county  of  Steuben,   i 
on  the  festival  of  St.  John  the  Bap- 
tist, before  Enos  master's  lodge,  No, 
3^,  and  Zion  mark  master's  lodge,   , 
No.  81,  on  the  24th  of  June  last,  by 
brother  William  B.  Rocbsstek. 

Worshipful  Master,  Wardens, 

and  Bretbren,  I 

The  meekness  and  the  benevolence 
of  the  eminent  and  inspired  patron  of 
Masonry,  the  anniversary  of  whose 
nativity  we  are  this  day  Celebrating, 
will,  if  practically  appreciated,  prove 
a  salutary  lesson  both  to  the  speaker 
and  to  the  hearer,  on  the  present,  as 
well  as  on  all  other  occasions. 

Supported  by  this  belief,  and  long 
sensible  of  the  harmonized  feeliogs 
i^hich  impart  a  charm  <o  our  secret 


MASONIC. 


95 


that  pvery  effort,  whether  of  thought 
uf  expressioD,  however  crude  or  ill- 
timed,  will  be  received  with  that  fra- 
itTiuil  indulgence  which  dttracterizes 
the  craft  ? 

When  I  look  around  me,  and  be- 
hold so  many,  my  seniors  in  years,  in 
discretion,  and  in  science,  I  must  be 
permitted  to  declare,  that  nothing  short 
of  a  profound  sense  of  that  willing  obe- 
dience which  is  due  to  the  wishes  of 
the  fraternity,  could  have  prompted 
■le  to  attempt  so  prororineat  a  part  of 
.our  hiteresting  exercises. 

Assembled  as  we  are,  to  exhibit  a 
public  manifestation  of  reverence  for 
the  virtues  of  a  sainted  brother,  let  it 
be  deeply  impressed  upon  our  memo- 
ries, that  external  ceremonv  does  not 
udrelentingly  indicate  the  homage  of 
the  heart,  and  that  the  world  will  look 
to  oar  conduct  for  the  test  of  our  sin- 
cerity and  merit,  whether  as  men,  as 
MasoDs,  or  as  Christians. 

Masonry  is  a  system  coeval  with 
the  first  rudiments  of  civilisation  and 
refinement;  nay,  some  who  have  min- 
istered to  the  altar,  have,  without  com- 
promising their  orthodoxy,  ventured 
to  trace  its  origin  to  that  momentous 
period,  when  man,  by  the  Almighty 
fiat,  was  spoken  into  existence,  when 
^  the  spirit  moved  upon  the  face  of  the 
waters,  and  God  said  let  there  be 
Light.''  Its  antiquity,  however,  can- 
not, will  not  be  disputed ;  history  con- 
fijmis  the  fact  that  it  has  existed  in  all 
ages,  and  ^flourished  in  all  amntries  5 
nor  can  its  Tuscan  pillars  and  Corin- 
thian columns,  which  are  based  on 
the  deep  foundations  of  immutable 
truth,  be  destroyed,  until  they  are 
swept  into  the  abyss  of  universal 
desolation. 

It  was  not  until  king  Solomon  built 
the  temple  at  Jerusalem,  on  Moriah's 
moQot,  where  first  the  destroying  an- 
gel was  appeased,  that  Masonry  as- 
sumed its  stability  of  form,  and  beauty 
of  proportion;  it  was  not  until  that 
memorable  epoch,  that  a  regularity  of 
workmg,  and  symmetry  of  structure 
were  established* 


Such  was  tlie  wisdom  and  forecast 
of  the, royal  Architect,  that  notwith- 
standing  his  visible  fabric  has  long 
since  mingled  whh  the  dust,  Ml  the 
towering  speculative  edifice,  whose 
Mosaic  pavement  stands  upon  holy 
OROtTND,  whose  teisel  encompasses 
the  living  springs  of  refined  and  plastic 
enterprize,  and  the  head  of  « whose 
corner  is  made  of  the  stone  which  the 
builders  rejected,^  remains  unimpair- 
ed by  the  ravages  of  time. 

It  has  survived  the  reign  of  barbar- 
ism, the  rude  shocks  of  Gothic  vio- 
lence, and  the  convulsions  of  extermi- 
nating war.  Societies,  systems,  cities, 
Viations,  and  empires,  have  successive- 
ly disappeared.  Nought  but  broken  co- 
lumns and  dilapidated  temples  desig- 
nate the  site  where  once  stood  Rome\ 
illustrious  rival;  and  Rome  herself, 
proud  Rome,  is  almost  a  pile  of  ruins; 
the  lofty  spires  of  her  four  hundred 
temples,  are  nodding  to  the  earth; 
the  brazen  statues  have  fallen  into  de- 
cay; the  villas  of  the  Fahii  and  the 
Caesars,  have  become  the  lurking  re- 
treau  of  brigands  and  desperate  assas- 
sms ;  the  mistress  of  Asia  is  blotted 
from  the  face  of  empire;  yet  Masonry 
exists  in  all  its  pristine  vigour  and 
beauty,  scattering  blessings  to  the  four 
corners  of  the  habitable  globe. 

Wherever  the  liberal  arts  and  sci- 
ences have  flourished,  they  have  been 
made  tributary  to  the  mystic  behest, 
and  perhaps  at  rto  period  since  the  dis- 
tinguished era,  to  which  allusions  have 
been  made,  could  the  aniwb  of  Ma- 
sonry more  justly  than  at  present 
boast  of  its  imperishable  grandeur. 
Indications  of  decay,  have,  it  is  true, 
in  the  lapse  of  ages,  apparently  threat- 
ened the  demolition  of  the  noble  struc- 
ture, but  it  was  only  the  mould  of  ne- 
glect, forming  for  a  season,  over  the 
rough  ashlers  of  the  building,  which 
were  exposed  in  the  shades  of  igno- 
rance, the  damps  of  superstition,  and 
the  mildews  of  vandalism.  The  corro- 
sive incrustation  has  long  since  yield- 
ed to  the  gavel  of  science,  and  the  , 
cAttte/  of  refinement.    The  pplished    J 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC  M 


94  MASONIC* 

fabric  on  whose  key^tfxme  is  ^^nrritten 
the  new  name,  which  no  mdn  knoweth 
saving  hiin  that  receiveth  it,"  at  this 
day  presents  to  the  ackniring  view  of 
the  accepted,  its  originaTEphesian  as- 
pect, bearing  upon  its  pilasters  the 
stamp  of  duration,  and  containing  with- 
in its  spacious  apartments,  the  incense 
of  devout  gratitude,  and  the  hidden 
manna  of  life.  The  nations  of  the 
east  are  gradually  emerging  from  hea- 
thenish darkness.  The  day  star  seems 
to  proclaim,  that  light  is  beginnmg 
to  dawn  again  in  that  once  favoured 
land  which  gave  birth  to  Masonry, 
and  which  received  the  impress  of  a 
Saviour's  feet.  < 

Our  sublime  institution,  has  for  its 
fundamental  principles,  universal  be- 
nevolence, and  brotherly  love ;  it  sti- 
mulates its  professors  to  deeds  of  cha- 
rily, and  offers  to  them  dignity  and  re- 
spect ;  it  illustrates  those  awful  truths 
which 

. **  Point  out  an  hereaftefi 

"  And  intimate  eternity  to  man." 

To  a  corrected  mind,  and  a  faithful 
heart,  it  furnishes  a  balm  for  every 
affliction.  There  is  no  selfish  inclina- 
tion >il^hich  it  is  not  calculated  to  ban- 
ish ;  no  generous  sentiment  which  it 
is  not  intended  to  inculcate;  it  dis- 
courages defamation;  it  tempers  the 
passions,  and  fortifies  the  heart;  it  en- 
joins us  to  be  faithful  to  our  trusts ; 
to  let  the  words  of  our  mouths  express 
the  thoughts  of  our  hearts ;  to  renounce 
error ;  to  avoid  rash  engagements,  but 
what  we  do  promise,  religiously  to 
perform. 

It  would  however  be  useless  to  de- 
claim upon  the  excellence  of  the  vir- 
tues, which  are  constantly  arrayed  be- 
fore us  in  the  most  captivating  manner. 
Every  maxim  of  the  craft  breathes 
with  them ;  every  example  of  our  dis- 
tinguished sages  illustrates  them;  ev- 
ery admonition  contained  in  our  mys- 
tical pages,  eloquently  enforces  them ; 
every  tenet  learned  from  the  oral  lec- 
tures of  our  enlightened  compeers, 
teaches  the  bright  lesson  of  love,  cha- 
ty,  and  universal  benevolence. 


When  the  direfiil  blasts  of  war  as^ 
sail  an  unhappy  country,  and  embat- 
tled legions  o(  kindred*  men  are  enga- 
ged in  the  strife  of  blood ;  when  thou- 
sands perish  by  the  victoi^s  sword,  and 
humanity  shudders  at  the  siglit,  the 
Mason's  well  known  sign  preserves  the 
captive  from  chains.  Instead  of  receiv- 
ing the  fatal  weapon  in  hb  bosom,  he 
finds  himself  encircled  within  the 
arms  of  an  affectionate  brother,  and  his 
heart  is  gladdened  by  the  generous 
sympathies  of  a  kind  friend. 

We  have  innumerable  legends,  which  , 
are  treasured  in  memory,  and  consti- 
tute a  species  of  intellectual  heritage. 
Tradition  has  preserved  and  transmit- 
ted them  from  brother  to  brother,  In  a 
manner  which  makes  them  indescrib- 
ably more  impressive,  than  the  naodes 
of.  communication  adopted  by  other 
institutions.  They  are  not  the  day- 
drefims  of  a  romantic  imaginatMM%  bot 
a  pleasing  reality;  the  banquet  of 
chastened  thought,  combined  with  the 
fruits  of  tender  monition,  which  are 
equally  delightful,  ittte/e8ting,and  per- 
manent. 

Our  entire  system  is  conceived  in  a 
strain  of  beautiful  allegory,  and  fur- 
nishes hieroglyphics  to  remind  us  con- 
stantly of  our  duty  to  ourselv^  to  our 
neighbour,  and  to  our  God.  The  ark 
of  innocence  will  waft  its  inmates  in 
triumph  over  the  tempestuous  billows 
of  adversity,  and  the  anchor  of  well 
grounded  hope,  which  has  been  cast 
in  the  furnace  of  affliction  and  repent- 
ance, will  safely  moor  them  in  the 
peaceful  haven  of  felicity  ^^  where  the 
wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the 
weary  are  at  rest.'* 

Can  you,  my  brethren,  without  9&ar 
satlons  which  can  be  better  felt  than 
expressed,  seriously  meditate  upon  the 
uncertain  tenure  of  life  ?  Behold  our 
appropriate  emblem :  how  almost  im- 
perceptibly the  minute  particles  pas» 
away,  and  yet  in  one  ^Hittle  hour" 
they  are  all  exhausted !  Thus  wastes 
man :  ^  to  day  he  puts  forth  the  tender 
leaves  of  hope;  to-morrow  blossoms, 
and  bears  his  blushing  hoaoois  thick 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MASONIC. 


95 


opon  Ibid;  next  day  comes  a  frost,  a 
killing  frost,  which  nips  the  bud,  and 
he  thinks  his  greatness  is  a  ri- 


pening," the  brittle  thread  of  life  is 
kngtl^ned  out  to  tbe  kst  strike  of  the 
reel,  is  suddenly  snapt  in  twain,  and 
his  accountable  soul  launched  into  the 
boundless  ocean  of  eternity. 

Masonry  has  ranked  among  her  vo- 
taries, m&i  most  prodigal  of  ^)od  gifts 
to  the  human  family,  and  celebrated 
ibr  their  sterling  virtues:  philosophers 
and  statesmen,  heroes,  kings  and  prin- 
ces, both  in  ancient  and  modem  days, 
have  been  proud  to  dives^  themselves 
of  the  ermined  robes  of  power,  in  order 
to  put  on  the  more  honourable  badges 
of  our  order;  and  have  thought  it  no 
disgrace  to  bring  themselves  to  the  lev- 
el, which  knows  no  rank,  but  that 
attained  by  superior  wisdom  and  pu- 
rity ;  and  acknowledges  no  distinction 
but  that  which  untiring  seal,  and  Ma- 
somc  ctevotion  secure  to  their  posses- 
sor. 

SolomoD,  who  preferred  wisdom  to 
ail  other  earthly  blessings,  Hiram, 
who  erected  the  temple  of  the  living 
God,  and  St.  John  the  Baptist,  and  pre- 
cra-ser  of  him  <^  who  spake  as  never 
nan  spake,"  have  consecrated  our  an- 
nals. But  without  resorting  to  anti- 
quity, or  adverting  to  the  many  living 
omamoDts  who  at  this  day  adorn  the 
ecclesiastical  and  civil  departments  of 
the  world,  our  own  favoured  country 
furnishes  a  splendid  list  of  departed 
worthies,  who  yielded  not  their  attach- 
ment except  with  their  last  breath. — 
Warren,  the  martyred  hero,  who 
lougbt,  and  bled,  and  died,  under  the 
first  ensign  of  liberty  which  America 
bravely  unfurled,  was  a  Mason,  so  was 
Franklin,  the  philosopher  who  could 
wrest  the  lightning  from  heaven,  and 
nuke  it  familiar  with  the  implements 
of  his  laboratory.  And  so  also  was 
Washington,  ^*  that  blazing  star  amidst 
the  bright  constellation  of  the  universe, 
which  eclipses  the  splendour  of  every 
surroondhig  lummary." 

WeU,  indeed,  may  the  institution 
which  can  boast  of  such  champions, 


dispense  with  the  m^ed  of  a  studied 
eulogium,  ^  recorded  honours  shall 
gather  round  their  monuments,  and 
thicken  ofer  them  ;  they  are  solid 
fabrics,  and  will  support  the  laurels 
that  adorn  them." 

Masonry  knows  of  no  geographical 
boundaries ;  its  residence  is  the  uni- 
verse )  the  suns  of  India  and  America 
alike  shine  upon  its  diffused  existence : 
mysteriously  bound  by  the  unbroken 
compact,  it  is  spread  over  the  surface 
of  hnth  hemispheres,  it  ranges  resist- 
less through  eveiy  region,  and  through 
every  clime.  The  thunders  o(  the 
Vatican,  the  receipts  of  imperial  cles- 
potism,  the  terrors  of  the  Auto  da  /e 
and  the  tortures  of  the  inquisition, 
have  in  vain  essayed  to  check  its  illim- 
itable progress,  **  no  tint  of  words  can 
spot  its  Snowy  mantle,  nor  chymic 
power  turn  its  sceptre  into  iron." 

Religious  and  political  disputes  enter 
not  our  portals :  every  sect  (acknowl- 
edging a  Supreme  Being)  is  equally  re- 
spected by  our  order  :  all  are  left  free 
to  pursue  whatever  they  deem  impor- 
tant to  Zion,  or  to  the  world  ;  never 
forgetting  however,  that  we  are  to  keep 
within  the  square  with  all  men,  and  to 
regard  the  sacred  volume  as  the  only 
sure  guide  to  eternal  happiness. 

The  principles  and  privileges  of  the 
order  are  open  to  all,  whose  capacities 
qualify  them  for  exercising  the  one,  or 
imbibing  the  other :  but  let  it  not  be 
vainly  supposed,  that  therefore  every 
individual  who  enters  our  mystic  sanc- 
tuary is  necessarily  a  free  and  an  ac- 
cepted Mason ;  far  from  it ;  and  bro- 
ther Masons,  however  humiliating  the 
reflection,  too  true  it  is,  we  must  ac- 
knowledge to  die  world  the  lamenta- 
ble fact,  many,  after  long  trial,  and 
strict  examination,  have  come  out  of 
the  furnace,  seared  and  scarred :  dis- 
qualified and  unworthy:  many,  too, 
many  have  been  '^  weighed  in  the  bal- 
ance and  found  wanting :"  they  only 
who  hold  out  to  the  end,  who  in  aU 
situations,  and  in  defiance  of  every 
temptation,  prove  themselves  true  and 
trusty :  they  alone  (^ch  the  unquench* 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


w 


HAsorciu. 


nUe  dement  which  ammates  the  craft, 
and  incites  them  to  deeds  of  honour, 
and  noble  daring. 

He  who  can  faithfully  represent  that 
certain  point,  within  the  circle,  em- 
broidered by  the  parallels  of  Christian- 
ity, on  whose  Vertex  rests  the  volumes 
of  inspiration,  and  wherein  are  con- 
tained the  commandments  on  which 
bang  the  law  and  the  pro))hets,  may 
well  exclaim  with  the  philosopher  of 
Sancos,  Vrekoj  I  have  found  it ;  and 
it  will  not  require  the  sacrifice  of  a 
hecatomb  to  secure  to  him  the  benefits 
of  the  discovery. 

I  am  aware  that  many  persons, 
strangers  to  the  inviolate  principles 
which  unite  the  craft,  make  the  mis- 
conduct of  some  of  oar  associates,  a 
radical  objection  to  the  institution. 

Without  intending  to  enter  into  a 
laboured  strain  of  polemical  disquisi- 
tion with  such  ftistidious  cavillers,  it 
may  be  answered,  that  even  the  inspi- 
red  precepts  of  the  Mediator  have  not 
been  secure  from  abuse  and  profana- 
tion. When  Moloch  fell,  his  defection 
left  no  blemish  on  the  white  throne 
where  sits  Supreme  Majesty.  Shall 
Religion,  that  sacred  principle  (with- 
out holy  reverence  for  which  it  is 
morally  impossible  to  become  a  Ma- 
son) be  neglected  and  rejected  ?  Shall 
the  house  of  prayer  and  worship  be 
avoided,  because  apostates  and  pre- 
tenders have  forsaken  the  glories  of 
perfection,  to  wander  in  the  mazes  of 
infidelity?  No;  forbid  it  genius  of 
Masonry ;  forbid  it  every  promise 
which  keeps  alive  the  hope  set  before 
us,  and  intimates  to  fallen  man,  the 
bright  prospect  of  immortality  and 
salvation. 

However  numerous,  and  however 
ilainrant  may  be  the  instances  which  fur- 
nist^  cause  of  regret  for  the  aberrations 
of  frail  human  nature,  I  boldly  main- 
tain, and  I  call  upon  every  brother 
within  the  sound  of  my  voice,  to  sup- 
port the  declaration,  that  whilst  on  the 
one  hand.  Masonry  has  confirmed  the 
wise  determinations  of  the  virtuous  and 
fhe  pioos ;  on  the  other,  our  history, 


our  records,  and  our  tradjiion,  abound 
with  memorable  instances,  where  a 
misguided  fellow-mortal  has  been  en- 
tirely reclaimed  from  the  haunts  of 
vice,  and  suddenly  arrested  from  a 
course  of  self-destroying  depravity, 
after  every  suggestion  of  native  pride 
or  intuitive  principle  had  failed. 

This  is  not  ordinary  praise.  Yet  f 
will  go  further ;  I  solemnly  declare,  in 
the  presence  of  this  respectable  assem- 
blage, that  I  never  witnessed  among 
Masons,  when  employed  in  their  useful 
labours,  any  thing  like  envy,  strife,  or 
malice,  nor  the  gleam  of  any  sentiment 
incompatible  with  warm  friendship, 
and  cordial  brotherly  love;  nothing  to 
poison  the  feast  of  reason,  which  is 
seated  in  the  heart,  or  to  dim  the  calm 
sunshine  which  plays  upon  the  soul. 

Never  have  I  beheld  within  the  bo* 
dy  of  a  just  and  regularly  constituted 
lodse,  erected  to  God  and  dedicated 
to  the  holy  order  of  St.  John,  a  hypo* 
crite,  a  pretender,  or  an  apostate. 

The  occasion  does  not  require  that 
we  should  trace  the  unhallowed  denun- 
ciations of  every  tyro  who  has  thought 
proper  to  wield  against  us  the  shafts  of 
ridicule  and  calunmy.  Indeed  it  would 
be  equally  useless  and  improper,  at 
present  to  notice  the  several  quips  and 
cavils  which  have  at  various  times 
been  started  by  the  weak,  the  vain,  and 
the  sceptical.  We  are  taught  by  our 
cardinal  principles  to  avoid  disputa- 
tions, and  the  unequivocal  conscious- 
ness of  their  influence  and  tendency, 
denies  to  the  contumacious  levity  of 
our  enemies,  any  other  feeling  than 
that  of  silent  charity.  Let  us,  how- 
ever, whilst  on  this  branch  of  the  sub- 
ject, glance  for  a  moment  at  one  in- 
quiry, which  has  been  the  fruitful 
source  of  much  idle  and  captious  con- 
jecture. 

Every  brother  will  at  once  anticipate 
the  question.  Why  are  not  the  gent- 
ler sex  permitted  to  become  members 
of  our  institution  ? 

To  this  the  answer  is  brief,  and  ought 
to  be  satifactory. 

Masonry  is  founded  in  die  fitness  of 

Digitized  by  VjOQQIC 


nAsoNie. 


97 


tbings,  relative  to  raen  exclusively, 
which  forbids  the  idea  of  subjecting 
'  female  tenderness  to  the  preparatory 
dispositions  for  initiation,  and  to  the 
labours  required  to  secure  advance- 
ment. Besidesi  the  implements  of  the 
craft  are  not  adapted  to  the  delicacy 
of  the  female  hand. 

The  x)lan  of  Deity  has  desired  the 
fair  for  ff  <|iij|^nt,  and  no  less  enchant- 
ing sphere  in  the  wide  range  of  intel- 
Rgent  existence.  The  advancement 
of  female  happiness,  th6  protection  of 
widows  and  of  orphans,  the  defence 
•f^injared  innocence,^'  and  "suffering 
Yirtne,'^  seem  peculiarly  allotted  to  the 
hardier  sex,  and  among  none,  more 
ftian  among  Masons,  have  these  laud- 
Mile  objects  been  cherished  with  more 
devoted  zeal,  from  time  immemorial. 

All  that  is  lovely,  aH-  that  is  virtu- 
oos,  all  that  is  dignifying  to  the  most 
charming,  and  amiable  part  of  crea- 
tion, is  h«ld  by  us  in  sacred  reverence. 
Eden  was  a  wilderness,  its  fragrance 
was  wasted  in  the  "  sad  solitude"  of 
man's  companionless  hour,  ^^  till  wo- 
fflai  smiled.^  She  is  "  the  glory  of 
the  man." 

The  mantle  which  surrounds  the  fe- 
male character,  is  made  of  so  delicate 
a  texture,  that  even  the  breath  of  sur- 
mise will  sully  its  purity ;  and  that  se- 
crecy, which  givef  value  to  our  indb- 
pensable  labours,  would  render  it,  in 
the  eyes  of  a  sensorious  world,  obno^K- 
ioQS  to  the  blasts  of  suspicion.  Man 
is  formed  of  coarser  materials,  and  in 
a  roi^her  mould :  he  is  doomed  to  en- 
coooter  dangers  and  difficulties :  he  is 
apt  to  become  morose,  vindictive,  and 
inexorable :  he  needs  all  the  mfluence 
of  Masonic  discipline  to  soften  the  rug- 
gedness  of  his  nature ;  to  quiet  his  an- 
gry passions,  and  to  render  him  mild, 
tolerant,  and  humane.  But  how  dif- 
ferent the  attributes  of  the  last,  and 
more  perfect  part  of  creation !  Who 
tbat  has  seen  the  seraph  form  of  beau- 
ty, bendii^  with  fond  anxiety  over 
die  cradle  of  sleeping  innocence,  and 
guarding  with  a  mower's  care  its  in- 
&ot  slumbers^  who  that  has  beheld 


the  tender  wife,  soothing  the  sorrows, 
encouraging  the  hopes^  and  whispering 
comfort  to  the  bosom  of  an  afflicted 
husband  ^  or  the  affectionate  daughter 
supporting  the  tottering  steps  of  decli- 
ning age,  and  smoothing  the  pillow  of 
sickness ;  u'ho  that  has  seen  woman, 
ever  susceptible  ojjfenerous  emotions, 
dispensing  blessings  with  "a  hand, 
open  as, day  to  melting  charity  j"  who 
that  has  known  her  as  the  ministering 
angel  in  health,  and  in,  sickness,  in 
weal,  and  in  woe ;  who  tnat  has  seen, 
and  known,  and  felt  all  this,  would 
willingly  subject  her  to  vocations,  ap- 
pointed by  Providence  exclusively  for 
masculine  exertions  ?  Among  the  fore- 
most ranks  of  her  guardians  and  pro- 
tectors, win  Masons  ever  be  found  ^ 
the}'  cannot  be  accessary  to  a  violation 
of  the  laws  of  nature. 

It  would  ill  comport  with  the  situa- 
tion or  duty  of  any  reflecting  crafts- 
man, to  attempt  to  cull  the  meretri- 
cious decorations  of  fancy,  or  to  scatter 
the  floivers  of  persuasion  among  those 
who  are  not  Masons,  for  the  purpose 
of  procuring  an  accession  to  the  num- 
bers of  the  fraternity.  Masonry  needs 
no  resort  1o  such  means,  to  give  it  ei- 
ther strength  or  durability.  We  ex- 
pect, nay  we  wish,  no  one  to  approach 
our  mystical  altar,  who  comes  not 
spontaneously,  to  undergo  Ihe  severe 
difficulties  and  dangers  which  beset 
and  embarrass,  the  most  courageous 
candidate  at  every  gradation.  That 
there  are  difficulties  and  dangers,  and 
those  of  the  most  unexpected  and  try- 
ing nature,  a  regard  for  truth  will  not 
allow  us  to  deny.  We  who  have  sur- 
mounted some  of  them  unhurt,  may 
well  exclaim,  cold  must  be  that  bosom 
which  has  not  been  warmed  by  the 
electrifying  ordeal !  and  obdurate  in- 
deed must  be  tliat  heart,  which  has 
not  been  softened  by  those  trials  and 
tribulations. 

Brethren,  it  is  time  that  my  present 
work  were  finished.  Let  me  earnestly 
entreat  you  to  cherish  with  devotional 
affection,  the^  cardinal  principles  of 
frieBd,hip,  morJitj^^r^l^^y  love, 


9» 


ilA^OMIO. 


andchiurity;  m^  tbf ro  yopr  moroing  [j 
study^yopr  evening  iQ<^dkatioD«  The 
fcible,  the  greM  light  «f  Masonry,  will 
^i(kyou  to  all  trufb, and  direct  your 
maroli  to  the  tt^mple  of  bapptoess, — 
l^et  no  dazzling  delusion,  no  epheme- 
ral glare,  pq  fal$e  estimate  of  mere 
worldly  acquisitioak  lead  you  astray 
fronn  the  straight  nne  of  moral  recti* 
^de,  which  tnis  sacred  book  points 
out,  and  illuminates.  One  false  step 
pften  leads  the  bewildered  traveller 
through  the  intricate  qi^zes  of  folly,  I 
^nto  ^he  lab^ynths  of  vice,  whence 
potliing  short  of  divine  interposition 
ci^B  rescue  l?im-  "  Let  your  light  so 
sl;in^  Jjefor^  lyien  th^t  they  may  see 
youiT  gqod  worlds."  "  Mark  well  the 
entering  of  the  bouse,  and  every  going 
forth  (S  the  sanctuary."  May  your 
deeds  of  ciiarity  be  as  constant  as  the 
fuming  warns  of  the  distressed  wi- 
dow, and  tlie  cries  of  the  helpless  or- 
phan. "Take  good  heed  of  these 
things,  for  the  night  cometh  when  no 
man  can  work."  The  all-seeing  eye 
of  the  Supreme  Architect  is  upon  us. 
{le  sees  pot  as  mm  seea.  He  looka. 
directly  on  the  heart. 

**  While  you  have  the  Hgfct,  believe 
in  the  light,  that  ypo  he  not  cast  into 
outer  d^kness ;  that  voa  warn  not 
knock  when  the  door  shall  be  ihot.'' 
May  the  rules  and  designs  laid  down 
00  your  tessel  boards  be  well  guaged 
^d  plumbed*  If  any  of  yon  have  pa»- 
sed  the  veil  of  the  sanctuary,  let  no 
^D  or  blemish  tarnish  the  spotless 
purity  of  the  white  banner  entrusted  to 
3fOur  care ;  clasp  to  your  embrace  wth 
redoubled  fondness,  the  immoveable 
jewal,^  and  let  nothing  short  of  the  last 
throe  of  departing  liie,  disengage  it 
from  your  grasp. 

May  you  be  enabled  to  perform  with 
honour  every  kind  office,  and  every  en- 
aearing  charity  of  hie :  may  your  first 
and  last  care  be  to  diminish  Uie  aggre- 
gate of  human  misery :  may  you  be 
taught  to  win  all  who  oome  within  the 
sfil^re  of  your  agency,  to  the  exercise 
of  those  tender  duties..  May  you  a& 
fothers,  as  husbands^  (s  friends,  as 


worthy  men,,  and  worthy  Masons,  bt 
enabled  to  distinguish  and  adorn  the 
profession. 

Let  every  brother  be  faithfol  to  his 
conscience, that  inward  monitor  whose 
warning  voice  no  human  art  can  si- 
lence:  pause  for  a  moment,  behold 
how  swiftly  the  sands  run !  how  rapid- 
ly our  lives  are  brought  to  a  close ! 

May  we  all,  amidst  d^  ca[fes  and 
troubles  of  this  transitor^fl^  prepare 
for  the  approach  of  the  king  o(  terrors; 
may  we  be  more  strongly  than  ever 
cemented  by  the  ties  of  union,  hospi- 
tality and  friendship;  may  the  short, 
but  precious  time  of  our  mortal  ejuat- 
ence,  be  wisely  employed ;  may  we 
cherish  an  unceasing  desire,  in  the  ii^ 
tercbange  of  kindness  and  affection,  to 
promote  not  only  our  own  mutual  in- 
terests,  but  the  happiness  and  welfare 
of  all  around  us ;  may  the  whole  fra* 
ternity  spread  over  the  globe,  be  not 
weary,  but  persevere  in  well  doing  5 
and  fiualty,  by  the  unmerited  grace  of 
Immanuel,  be  iuvjgorated  to  finish  aU 
their  work,  and  to  take  a  seat  in  that 
^^  spiritual  building,  that  house  nut 
made  witb  hands,  eternal  in  the  Hen* 
vens.^^ 


MASONIC  ODE. 

Wben  first  Eternal  jgrstice  bade 
Life's  varied  ills  untemper'd  ^ow, 
'Twas  then  Almighty  floodneM  said, 
Go  Pity*  cheer  the  realms  of  woe. 
Go  mild  CompasskiDrgo  CbaHty  and  Lov«» 
Toll  man  there's  mercy  yet  above. 

Scarce  fled  from  heaven  the  birii  bebeat^ 
That  whelm'd  In  light  the  smiling  eartb^ 
Ere  wide  creation,  doubly  bl^s'd 
Haird  MASONRY'S  propitjous  birth. 

With  strains  mujestici  ye  Mason *s  lift  (b^ 
skies, 

Let  grateful  haUeli^jalis  rise. 

Hail  K9ytU  Art !  in  hoipble  seal, 
The  Mason  greets  thy  gladd'ning  sway  jr 
*Ti8  thine  to  teach  his  heart  to  tte\. 
And  thine  to  bid  hi*  hand  obey. 

Tw^s  Wisdom  fushj^n'd,  'twas  Sirta^  tfag^ 
terople  raised, 

And  Beauty  o*er  the  fabric  blaz*d. 

Sweet  Charity,  whose  soothing  art 
Cai4  bid  di|ll  a|>at^y  ^d^it, 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


Caa  cwecfA  tlie  chords  of  sTcrjbearti 

PruDaval  narmooy  restore. 
^Hoe  lovely  stsler>  come  smooth  lUe's  rag- 
ged way. 
And  lead  oitr  souls  to  realms  of  day. 

GBSANG  DBS  GROSSMElStERS. 

b  fclitar  Maurer  Hallen 

steht  Tugeod  felsenfest; 
laat  lasst  das  Lob  erscballeot 

den  Weisheit  nieveri&sst. 
^nk  M»C  er  hier  in  Etotrachtsbend, 

io  Brwderaraiy  an  Fieaades  Uaad. 

b  Qofrer  Lo^e  Mauern, 

wo  B^nsch  den  Menschen  liebt, 
CoiiB  haeine  JUcbstKiht  dauem, 

da  FPMBd  dem  Feind  vergiebt. 
(Wra  Manrerlebrea  nicht  erfreuny 

verdieiit  kein  Ordenssoho  sa  feyn.) 

{He  word  der  Baa  vwgeben, 
-wtm  elaieli  der  Tod  uma  treunt ; 

£r  wiffdr  aiait  fiegreich  stehen 
fan  hdhem  Orient. 

(per  Btkk  in  jenes  sCemenlicht, 

r  biedern  Maurer  nicht.) 


Whose  firmdaos  of  Imm,  hk  tretehrt  of 
arts 
To  the  eyes  of  the  vulgar  uldinowny 
Whose  lustre  can  beum  new  dignity  and 
ftime 
On  the  pcdpit,  tbe  b^,  4nd  the  t 

Indiasolnble  bands  ear   h«art>   Imd^ont 
hands 

In  social  beoevolerite  bind^ 
For,  true  to  his  cause,  by  immutable  lawj, 

A  Bfasoa's  a  friend  to  aninfcind. 

Let  Joy  flow  around,  aud  perxcyotive-bound 

Preside  at  our  mystical  rites. 
Whose  candour  maintains  our  anspicuMift 
doBMlas, 

And  freedom  with  order  unites. 

Nor  let  tbe  dear  ttaidTotfr  mysterie!^  di^, 
Nor  think  ftietHk  re^gnant  to  love ; 

To  beauty  we  bend,  and  her  empire  de« 
fend, 
Har  empire  deriVd  from  above. 

Then  let's  all  unite,  sineere  and  uMighr, 

On  the  LXTXA  of  virtae  to  stand ; 
No  mortals  can  be  mc»re  haMiy  than  we, 
»bU  in 


Soft  ioi  Zenith  der  Frenden 

MoMt  Blanrern  Wohlergehn; 
Befreyt  von  Srdenleiden 

'   I  rie,  sieh  WeHen  drebn. 
taiaimgoldnen  Orient 
k  aae  das  Licht,  das  Maurern  brennt) 


8ii^  dana  in  voTlen  Chdren 

wcthlirter  Brftder  Wohl ; 
Vat,  'AMeml,  die  whr  ehren, 

and  Maiiin  schmiicken  soil. 
(Die,  Brider,  sey  stets  unser  Bohm  ; 

aie  aey  dee  Bondes  Eigenlbum.) 

MASONIC  SONG. 

Yk  tfeiee  happy  fbw,  whose  hearts  have 
bona  ti«e, 
la  ooneord  and  unity  found ',' 
tet*s  sing  and  rejoice,  and  unite  ev'ry 
voice, 
To  send  the  gay  chorus  around. 

CHORUS. 

lor  IBlb  pOIars  we  stand,  an  immoveable 
bond, 
Vidtti  in  friendship  and  love ; 
Ifea  Maaoory  hafl !  thy  charms  shaU  pre- 
vail, 
^nn  we  meet  io  the  grahd  lodge  above. 


Arahitect,  whose  word  did 
erect 
Elemily,  meaaore,  and  space, 
Ibnl  laid  the  fair  plan,  on  which  we  began, 
CoHteiflroflMhaioirf  and  i^ehce. 


With  a  brother  and  friea 


each  hand., 

a».  WV . 


ON  BENEVOLKNCS!. 

ar  lowiB  0.  yaAsait 

Come,  sweet  fismvoLBvca,  eelosHoI  mt&di 

Come  rob'd  in  parity,  In  smiiif^  array*d ; 

Expand  our  hearts,  that  we  may  dlr  Hktf 

thoe. 
Pursue  the  diolaiao  of  liuaiaiiSty : 
Inspire  us  to  infold  In  one  embrace 
Thowihioekiadfedo#tiiohamao'r«eo» 
And  though  oor  hearts  no  vile  diftinotlonf; 

know, 
But  vibrate  strong  to  ev'rr  chord  of  woe ; 
Yet  when  we  hoar  a  brotoer  Mason's  sighs. 
They  claim  an  extra  tear  from  Masou'tf 

eyes  j 
Nor  can  one  partial  bounty  bo  arrai^'d 
Should  we  prefer  a  BKOTBua.to  a  friend. 


.      ROYAL  MASTER'S  ODE. 

By  Hiram's  arts,  the  aspiring  dome. 
In  stately  column's  sfmH^ arisen; 

All  climates  were  his  native  homtf ; 
His  learned  actions  reach  tlie  pides, 

Heroes  and  kings  revpre  bis  name, 

While  Poets  sing  his  lasting  fan^e. 
Heroes  and  kings,  &t€,  / 

Great,  noble,  generous,  good  Jrnd  bi-ave  ; 

Are  titles  he  most  juitly  cj&.ims 
His  deeds  shall  live  beyoiid  /the  ^rave, 

Which  those  unborn,  shai' 
Time,  shall  his  glorious  act 
While  love  and  friendship 
Time  shall  '" 


loud  {iroclaim; 
unroll, 
tliarm  the  soulr. 


and  friendship  aliarm  the  sc 


100 


UEOaftAFHiCAL. 


THE  MASON'S  DAUUHTEK. 

4j  altered  and  revitedf  for  Parmele*s  Key  to 
the  Matonie  Mirror, 

on's  dauehter,  fair  and  young, 
'de  of  all  the  virgin  throng, 
hf  to  her  lover  said  ; 
Tbo^li  Damon  I  I  year  flame  approve ; 
Your  actions  praisei  your  person  love, 
I  still  must  live  a  maid. 

No  youth  shall  loose  my  vfarein  aone, 
But  one  to  whom  the  secret  s  known 

Of  ancient  Masonry ; 
In  which  the  great  and  good  combine, 
To  raise,  with  eenerous  design, 

Man  to  feucity. 

f  hate  the  fop,  the  churl,  the  fool. 
The  plodding  knave,  the  party  tool. 

The  libertine  and  slave  ; 
I  love  the  roan  that's  good  and  true. 
Who  learns  his  pas8k)ns  to  subdue ; 

Is  generous  and  brave. 

I  love  the  frank  and  faithful  breast. 
On  which  the  aehing  head  may  rest. 

And  quite  forget  Hs  pain  ; 
Where  charity  prefers  her  prayer. 
And  finds  a  ready  helpar  there, 

Nor  needs  to  aik  again. 

This  said,  he  bow'd  and  went  away-— 
AppW  *d---was  made  whlKMit  dolay ; 

Then  to  his  charmer  came,  ^ 

She  sweetly  granted  his  request ; 
And  claspine  l>anon  to  his  breast, 

ConfessM  a  kindred  flame. 


GEOGRAPHICAL.^ 

THE  ISLAND  OF  MADEIRA. 

(Concluded  from  page  62.) 
The  dress  of  the  peasantry  is  very 
simple,  consisdng  of  a  shirt  and  draw- 
ers of  linnen  of  their  own  manufacture, 
the  kee-bands  of  the  latter^  and  collar 
of  the  former,  are  worn  both  open  ;  a 
pair  of  loose  light  goat-skin  boots, 
which,  with  a  small  blue  doth  cap  of 
a  conical  shape,  turned  up  with  red, 
completer  their  dress ;  although  they 
have  a  blue  cloth  jacket,  but  it  is  gen- 
erally thrown  over  one  shoulder,  be- 
ing seldom  worn.  They  are  very  civil 
when  they  laeet  a  stranger ;  they  take 
off  their  cap,  and  "  hope  the  Lord 
will  prosper  him ;  and  when  they  en- 
counter one  another,  they  stand  cap  in 


hand,  though  undef  a  perpeedkuter 
sun,  till  they  have  satisfied  each  other 
as  to  the  welfare  of  their  wives,  chil- 
dren, relatives,  acquaintances,  cattle, 
domestic  animals,  and  so  on :  there  is 
then  a  good  deal  of  ceremony  in  set- 
tling the  important  qeustion  who  shall 
first  put  his  cap  on  again.  Tlley  are 
very  muscular,  and  are  capable  of  un- 
dergoing incredible  fatigue. 

A  more  desirable  spot  for  the  astln 
roatic  or  consumptive,  uniting  such  nu- 
merous advantages,  cannot  be  found  $ 
the  town  of  Funchal  being  situated  in 
a  valley  open  only  to  the  south,  while 
it  is  completely  defended  by  the  moan- 
tains  rising  behind,  from  those  north- 
em  blasts,  which  in  other  situations 
too  often  prove  fatal  in  cases  of  d^ 
cline;  and  the  temperature  of  the  at- 
mosphere is  very  litde  subject  to 
change,  the  thermometer  being  seldom 
higher  than  from  75  to  78  in  Bummer^ 
and  rarely  below  6b  in  winter :  indeed 
the  climate  is  so  favourable  for  in- 
valids, that  were  it  resorted  to  before 
the  disease  becomes  too  long  confirm- 
ed it  would  seldom  fail  in  restoring 
their  health :  but  it  is  to  be  regretted 
that  this  resource  is  oftmi  defeired  till 
it  b  too  late  for  any  hopes  of  recovery! 
and  when  the  patient  has  scarcely 
strength  to  undergo  the  fatigues  of  the 
voyage. 

When  the  island  was  first  colonized, 
prince  Henry  had  the  sugar  cane 
tansplanted  hither  from  Sicily ;  and, 
at  one  time,  there  were  forty  sugar 
mills  on  the  island,  that  article  then 
foming  the  staple  commodity;  nofr 
there  is  only  one  mill  remaining,  at 
which  little  sugar  b  made,  but  that 
little  is  excellent,  and  has  a  scent  like 
the  violet. 

Instead  of  the  cane,  vine  is  now  cul- 
tivated, the  produce  of  which  b  wdl 
known  and  esteemed  all  over  the  world? 
the  vin^  run  on  trellises  of  cane  work, 
about  three  feet  from  the  ground,  and 
tb^  grape  b  usually  fit  for  making  bM 
wine  at  the  beginning  of  September, 
when  they  are  obliged  to  tie  up  aU  the 
dogs,  to  prevent  their  getting  at  the 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


OCOGRAPHICAL. 


101 


mpci^y  of  which  they  are  very  fond. 
Great  quantities  are  destroyed  by  rats, 
lizards,  and  wasps. 

Tiie  wine-press  is  a  wooden  trough 
about  six  feet  square,  and  two  feet  deep; 
over  which  is  a  large  cUwisy  lever. 
When  the  trough  is  nearly  filled,  about 
half  a  dozen  peasants,  bare  legged^  get 
10,  and  with  their  feet  press  oat  the 
precious  juice ;  after  which  the  husks 
and  stalks  are  coDected  in  a  head,  and 
pressed  with  the  lever,  this  last  press- 
ing produces  the  stibogest  and  choi- 
cest wine.  The  best  wine  is  produced 
oo  the  south  side  of  the  island,  and 
vhefl  first  made,  is  as  deep  coloured 
as  port;  ferments  for  about  six  weeks 
after  it  b  made.  It  is  computed  that 
about  twenty  thousand  pipes  are  made 
aoiMially,  of  which  about  two  thirds 
are  exported,  principally  to  Great  Bri- 
taia  and  British  colonies,  and  the  re- 
mainder is  consumed  on  the  Island. 

There  are  many  difiereut  descrip- 
tions of  grapes,  the  largest  size,  and 
which  .is  merely  a  table  grape,  and  is 
not  made  mto  wine,  is  about  the  siae 
of  a  muscle  plumb,  and  the  bunches 
9re  so  large  as  sometimes  to  weigh 
twenty  pounds. 

Tk^  wines  shipped  from  Madeira, 
are  classed  Tinia,  or  Madeira,  Bur- 
gundy, Malmsey,  Sersial,  and  simple 
plain  Madeira;  the  three  first  are 
thirty  pounds  per  pipe  dearer  than  the 
latter,  which  is  60/.  per  pipe  of  1 10 
gallons  free  on  board.  This  high 
price  is  occasioned  by  the  want  of 
unanimity  among  the  English  mer- 
chants, or  indeed  a  want  of  good  Ofith 
towards  each  other,  for  they  appear 
occasionally  to  rouse  from  theft*  leth- 
argy, meet  at  their  consul's,  and  agree 
to  give  only  certain  prices  for  the  wines 
9i,  the  press,  but,  immediately  after, 
each  outtHds  the  other,  and  the  wine 
jobber  laughs  in  his  sleeve,  and  profits 
by  their  folly.  Were  a  dozen  of  the 
principal  wine  shippers  to  be  unani- 
mous, they  might,  with  ease  reduce 
the  wines  at  the  press  one  third  of  the 
present  exorbitant  prices,  and  could,  of 
coursei  mak^  a  su&ilaf  reduction  in 


the  shipping  prices,  when  they  would 
consequently  have  larger  orders;  but 
what  can  scarcely  be  credited  is,  that 
when  they  had  what  they  term  ^6e- 
torial  matting,  to  affix  the  shipping-pri- 
ces for  1 8 1^^  all  but  two  of  the  sapient 
assembly  were  for  raiding  the  price  £S 
per  pipe ;  and  when  these  two  proved 
to  a  demonstration  that  such  conduct 
would  only  induce  the  wine-jobbers  to 
make  a  similar  rise,  and  merely  add 
to  their  coffers,  already  overflowing 
with  the  efiect  of  the  merchants'  past 
follies;  the  meeting  still  deemed  it 
necessary  to  adjourn  for  a  few  da^'s, 
before  they  would  allow  themselves  to 
be  convinced. 

No  foreign  wine  is  allowed  to  be 
imported,  not  even  a  few  dozens  of 
Port  for  private  use,  although  it  is  the 
produce  of  the  mother  country;  this 
is  being  very  strict  indeed,  yet.it  is 
justifiable,  as  a  very  few  years  since  a 
discovery  was  made  of  a  smuggle  into 
the  bland  of  a  number  of  pipes  of 
wine  from  tlie  island  of  Fayal  and 
Tenerifie ;  and  had  not  the  most  rigid 
methods  been  adopted  the  wine  of 
Madeira  would  have  lost  its  reputa- 
tion, as  no  one  who  imported  wine 
from  thence  could  have  been  certain 
of  having  it  genuine:  consequently 
the  wines  were  seized,  and  the  beacbs 
of  the  casks  were  knocked  out  in  pub- 
lic market-place,  which  overiWed 
with  the  contents:  the  boats  that 
landed  it  were  confiscated,  and  the 
smugglers  condemned  to  transporta- 
tion, or  to  pay  to  the  crown,  in  addi- 
tion to  losing  the  wine,  twice  its 
amount. 

The  island  is  well  supplied  with 
%pod  beef,  mutton,  poultry,  and  some 
wild  pigeons,  quails,  partridges,  snipes, 
woodcocks,  wild  rabbits,  &c.  The 
I  Atlantic  furnishes  the  island  with 
abundance  of  excellent  jew-fish,  johu- 
dory,  pike,  mullet,  hake,  makerel, 
pildmrds,  turtle,  crayfish,. crab,  lim- 
pets, shrimps,  &c.  lliey  have  a 
breed  of  small  but  handsome  and  ser- 
viceable horses. 

Most  of  the  coifimercial  characters 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


lot 


GBOOEAnaCAL. 


•n  the  Island  are  English ;  and  among 
tbem  are  some  respectable  iong-estab- 
Bshed  houses,  possessing  considerable 
capitab :  there  are  abcMit  twenty  dif- 
ferent firms,  and  as  many  families.-^— 
The  total  number  oi  British  subjects 
in  Madeira,  including  women,  child- 
ren, clerks,  and  servants,  amount  to 
•ne  hundred ;  but  they  are  too  haugh- 
ty, too  jealous,  and  too  envious  of 
each  other,  to  be  sociable. 


IMPORTANT  DISCOVEKT. 

The  following  letter  from  J.  Ro- 
binson, Esq.  to  the  Hon.  Dr.  S.  L. 
Mitchill,  was  originally  published  in 
the  Columbian.  It  cannot  fkil  to  be 
highly  interesting  to  such  of  our  read- 
ers as  have  not  bad  an  opportunity  of 
perusing  it,  and  tl^ill  excite  no  small 
degree  o(  surprise,  that  these  islands 
should  thus  long  have  remained  unex- 
plored. 

Valparaiso^  Jan.  23, 1820. 

Sir— I  avail  myself  of  an  opportu- 
nity to  write  by  the  way  of  England, 
to  notify  you  of  a  recent  important 
dbcovery  of  land  in  the  South  Seas. 

In  the  month  of  February,  of  the 
present  year,  Captain  Smith,  master 
of  the  British  merchiuit  brigantine 
Williams,  on  a  passage  from  Buenos 
Ayres  to  this  port,  round  Cape  Horn, 
in  lat.  61, 40,  south,  discovt*red  land. 
When  he  arrived  here,  he  reported 
what  he  had  seen,  but  most  persons 
were  incredulous.  Mortified  by  this 
scepticism,  upon  his  return  passage  to 
Montivedeo,  he  sailed  to  the  southward 
to  ascertain  whether  he  had  been  de-^ 
ceived  or  not;  but  meeting  bad  wedB 
ther,  and  encountering  ice,  he  was 
obliged  to  desist,  and  prosecute  his 
voyage:  yet  without  abandoning  his 
original  intention,  or  losing  his  san* 
guine  belief  in  the  existence  of  land  in 
that  neighbourhood*  In  Montivedeo, 
he  prepared  his  vessel  rather  better 
than  commoB,  and  proceeded  a  second 
time  round  the  Cape,  Uiwards  Valpa- 
vaiso^  and  oa  the  idth  of  October, 


was  gratified  by  a  second  s%ht  of  m 
same  land  he  bad  seen  before.  The 
water  was  then  high  coloured,  and  he 
sounded  in  ststy-ftve  fathoms,  black 
and  white  sand  and  shells.  The 
soundings  gradually  decreased  to  25 
fothams,  and  less,  but  coarser,  and  of 
an  oosy  greenish  colour,  as  he  ap- 
proached Sie  shore. 

Captain  Smith  was  obliged  fO  stand 
off  and  on,  by  a  heavy  swell,  until  the 
I7th  uhimo,  when  be  landed  in  lati- 
tude 64  43  south,  and  57 10  west  lon- 
gitude, 1^  observation,  and  an  excel- 
lent chronometer. 

Here  he  saw  many  seals,  sea-^on% 
whales,  and  sea  fowls ;  ail  perfectly 
firariess  and  unacquainted  with  dan^ 
ger. 

This  land  he  calls  a  continent,  ani 
gave  it  the  name  of  New  Soutk  Bn* 
tam^  upon  which  he  hoisted  the  Bri' 
tish  flag. 

On  the  north  coast  of  this  land, 
there  is  a  chain  or  line  of  islands, 
from  two  to  ten  miles  distant  firomthe 
main,  to  which  he  gave  the  name  of 
Penguin  Islands,  Between  these 
jslaads  and  the  main  land,  there  is  a 
kind  of  channel,  from  two  to  ten 
miles  wide,  with  some  current;  and 
in  one  f^ace  an  appearance  of  break- 
ers, produced  probably  by  a  narrow 
passage,  and  sunken  rocks.  The  pas- 
sage there,  is  not  more  than  a  mile 
wide,  but  captain  Smith  did  not  ejc- 
plore  it. 

Captain  Smith  coasted  to  the  wesf^ 
and  west  of  south,  sometimes  inside 
<^the  islands,  at  others  between  them 
and  the  main  land,  to  the  latitude  of 
63  53.  south,  longitude  64  west ;  the 
#ind  then  blowing  from  the  south- 
west,  he  took  his  departure  and  steer* 
ed  from  the  land  north  by  west,  whett 
it  bore  south  and  west,  as  far  as  could 
be  discerned  with  good  glasses,  and 
with  every  appearance  of  its  extend- 
ing furdier.  He  describes  the  whole 
of  this  bad,  both  the  main  and  the 
islands,  as  being  very  high,  even 
above  the  clouds,  and  the  summits  as 
having  beett  covered  with  amow,  and 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


0EOd&APBIQAL. 


103 


vidi  generally  a  tterifte  banen  aspect, 
bot  with  some  indications  of  vegeta- 
doo^  shrubbery  and  wood  in  the  val- 
lies  and  apertures  of  the  hilb  and 
moQiitaios,  and  likewise  with  rivers 
aad  creeks.  He  stretched  along  this 
coast,  three  hundred  miles,  with  gene- 
rally cool  pleasant  weather,  bmnot 
haTiog  been  properly  provided  with 
boats,  he  did  not  attempt  to  re-land, 
notwithstanding  he  saw  fine  bays  and 
sandy  beaches. 

Captain  Smith  saw  many  fish  of  all 
cokHifs  and  sites,  and  different  denom- 
iaations.  The  most  remarkaMe  re- 
sembied  the  codfish  of  Cape  Augully 
Bank  and  the  Isle  of  Joan  Fernandez. 
The  wkiles  were  like  those  of  Hud- 
aon's  f^y  and  Davis'  Straits.  Besides 
these  he  saw  a  species  of  wbhe  whale 
MdUackfish. 

I  The  soundings,  or  rather  the  matter 

drawn  op  with  the  k»d,  at  each  east, 
are  preserved,     i  have  seen  them, 

I  and  likewise  a  draught  of  the  land,  by 
a  good  band.  Captain  Sheriff,  of  the 
Andromache,  and  other  British  naval 
ferees  in  these  seas,  wiH  dispatch  a 
ve»el  in  a  few  days  to  survey  this 
knd,  and  report  upon  it. 

Thinking  that  this  discovery  mav 
be  interesting  to  you,  sir,  in  as  much 
as  it  may  be  the  means  of  throwing  a 
new  light  upon  geography,  navigation, 
and  theory  of  the  earth,  I  take  the 
liberty  to  cummunicate  the  informa- 
tion, in  the  hopes  that  the  facts  will  be 
gratifyii^  to  the  Lyceum,  and  useful 
to  society  in  general. 

Permit  me  to  hint,  that  it  is  proba- 
ble niany  great  discoveries  are  yet  to 
be  made  in  this  hemisphere,  and  that 
much  has  escaped  the  most  carious 
observers  in  the  Pacific  Ocean.  Should 
the  government  of  the  United  States, 
equip  and  commission  a  vessel  with 
proper  persons  for  a  voyage  of  discov- 
ery to  this  quarter  of  the  world,  I  think 
thai  the  government  and  nation  woi^d 
be  woBLpky  lewarded  by  the  acquisition 
of  knowledge,  in  adchtion  to  the  con- 
scious satisfaction,  acisingfrom  haviog 


patronised  aad  preioted  laudable  in* 
telligence,  adventure  and  enterprise. 

Perhaps  new  sources  of  wealth, 
happiness,  power,  and  revenue  would 
be  disclosed,  and  science  itself  be  be- 
nefited there^.  The  land  lately  dis- 
covered, lies  in  the  track  of  vessels 
bound  into  and  out  of  the  Pacific 
Ocean. 

With  great  respect,  I  have  the  hon- 
our to  be,sir,yoQr  most  obedient  hton^ 
ble  servant. 

J.  ROBINSON. 
To  ths  Hod.  Stmutl  L.  AOteheU, ) 

It.  L.  D.  President  of  the  Lyceuor  > 

of  Nat.  History,  N.  York,  &c.         ) 

New-London,  Sept.  27. 
We  observe  that  accounts  are  pub- 
Ibhed  in  the  American  papers  of  the 
discovery  of  a  new  island  or  conti- 
nent, (lying  in  S.  lat.  64  deg.  4d  min. 
and  long«  57  deg.  10  min.  W.)  by  the 
captain  of  an  English  Whaleman,  who 
eailed  along  the  coast  for  more  than 
200  miles,  and  who  took  formal  pos- 
session of  it  in  the  name  of  his  king. 
This  newly  discovered  land  has  been 
known  for  several  years  to  some  of 
our  Yankee  whalemen;  and  it  is  a 
fact,  that  several  vessels  have  sailed 
from  Stonington  to  the  above-men- 
tioned continent  or  island,  the  last 
summer,  on  sealing  voyages.  Cap- 
tain Sheffield,  who  commands  one  of 
the  ships,  represents  the  appearance 
of  the  country  as  eirceedingly  moun- 
tainous, and,  during  what  may  be 
termed  summer,  covered  with  snow ; 
that  it  was  destitute  of  inhabitants, 
and  that  it  can  only  be  useful  for  the 
purpose  of  fishing  and  sealing ;.  seab 
being  stated  to  be  exceeding  plenty, 
and  perfectly  tame ;  thus  proving  tliat 
they  had  not  been  visited  by  that 
scourge  of  their  race — man. 

CHINA  PROPER. 
Eitends  from  the  great  wall  in  the 
N.  to  the  Chinese  Sea  in  the  S.  about 
1,330  mOes.  The  breadth  from  the 
shores  of  the  Pacific  to  the  frontiers  of 
Thibet,  may  be  computed  at  1,0^ 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


'  104  HiSTOaiCAli. 


miles.  In  the  i^are.  miles  the  con- 
tents may  be  estimated  at  1,298,000. 
According  to  the  information  received 
by  Sir  George  Staunton,  from  a  man- 
darin of  high  rank,  the  population  is 
computed  at  333,000,000.  From  the 
calculations  in  NeuhofPs  travels,  il  is 
more  probable  that  the  population  is 
about  230,000,000. 


HISTORICAl- 


CHINESE  CHAQUEN. 
An  officer  of  high  rank,  in  a  pro- 
vince of  China,  having,  for  some  days, 
applied  himself  to  business,  suddenly 
shut  up  his  gates,   pretending  to  be 
sick,  and  would  admit  nobody  to  see 
or  speak  to  him.     A  mandarine,  and 
friend  of  his,  dreading  the  consequen- 
ces, after  much  entreaty  was  permitted 
to  visit  him,  and  told  him  the  great 
discontent  the  city  was  in  for  want  of 
dispatching  business.     The  officer  put 
bim  off  with  pretences  of  being  indis- 
posed in  his  health.    "  I  sec  no  symp- 
toms of  it,"  said  the  mandarine,  ''  but 
if  your  exccMency  will  acquaint  me 
With  the  true  cause,  I  will  endeavour 
to  serve  you."     The  chaquen  (for  that 
was  the  name  of  the  officer)  replied, 
"  somebody  has  stolen  the  king's  seal 
out  of  the  cabinet  where  I  usually  kept 
it,  and  has  left  it  locked  as  if  nothing 
httd  been  taken  out ;  so  that  if  I  should 
[five  audience,  I  can  seal  no  dispatches, 
and  if  I  should  discover  my  careless- 
ness in  suffering  the  king's  seal  to  be 
stolen,  I  shall  lose  both  my  govern- 
ment, and  my  head."     "  Who  do  you 
suspect  as  the  author  of  this  mischief?" 
said  the  mandarine.     "  The  governor 
of  the  city,"    replied  the  chaquen, 
**who  is  my  professed  enemy."  "Go 
then,"  said  the  mandarine,  "and  com- 
mand all  your  best  moveables  to  be 
caried  into  the  innermost  part  of  your 
palace,  set  fire  on  the  rest,,  and  cry 
out  for  help  to  quench  it,  and  the  go- 
vernor must  come  by  virtue  of  his 
office  in  such  accidents.     When  you 
Qrst  set  eye  upon  him,  call  to  bm 


with  an  tumble  Voice,  and  give  him 
the  cabinet  locked  as  it  is,  to  secure  it 
for  you ;  for  then  if  he  has  robbed  yon 
of  the  seal,  be  will  return  it  with  the 
cabinet,  or  if  he  does  not,  your  excel- 
lency  will  have  a  fair  opportunity  to 
charge  him  with  neglectinft  to  secm« 
it,  and  so  both  free  yourself  lirom  the 
impending  danger,  and  revenge  your- 
self npon  your  enemy."  The  stmln- 
gem  had  the  desired  suecesa ;  for  the 
next  morning,  the  fire  being  extin- 
guii^hed,  tlie  governor  brought  him  the 
cabinet,  with  the  king's  seal  in  it; 
both  concealing  the  robbery  of  tlie 
one,  and  the  carelessness  of  tiie  other, 
and  all  •was  well  again.— Alvarez  Se- 
medo,  Hist.  Chin. 
* 

JULIUS  CJE6AR 
Is  as  renowned  in  history  for  his  ex- 
traordinary clemency  as  his  great  vic- 
tories; for,  by  the  former,  he' con- 
quered his  enemies,  and  by  the  latter 
he  overcame  himself,  which  is  tht 
noblest  conquest  in  the  word.  Cor- 
nelius Phagita,  one  of  Sylla's  bloody 
agents,  having  surprised  him  in  his 
retirement,  and  with  much  ado  let 
him  escape  at  the  price  of  two  talents; 
when  it  was  in  Cwsar's  power  to  take 
dire  revenge,  yet  he  would  do  him  no 
injury,  saying,  "  He  could  not  be  an- 
gry with  the  wind  and  waves  when 
the  storm  was  at  an  ejid."  He  par- 
doned  his  utter  enqmy  Domitius,  and 
gave  him  his  life,  liberty,  and  estate. 
After  his  decisive  victory  at  Pharsa- 
lia,  he  allowed  every  one  of  his  sol- 
diers to  save  one  of  Pompey's  party, 
and  by  proclamation  licensed  all  that 
he  had  not  then  pardoned  to  return 
into  Italy,  and  freely  enjoy  their  pos- 
sessions, dignities,  and  commands, 
witholbt  molestation.  And,  when  he 
had  notice  of  Pomp^'s  death,  by  the 
base  treachery  and  barbarity  of  Ptol- 
emy king  of,  Egypt,  was  so  far  from 
rejoicing  at  it,  that  he  shed  tears  of- 
sorrow  for  the  loss  of  so  great  a  man, 
and  pursued  his  murderers  with  blood 
and  slaughter,  till  he  had  ruined  them 
and  their  country.7-«Lips.  Monit* 

JigitizedLyLjOOgle 


HISTORIC  At. 


105 


FIUAL  AFFECTION. 
In  the  unhappy  civil  wars  between 
Octaviamis  and  Antonius,  Meteilus, 
the  son,  was  for  the  former,  and  hb 
Cadier  Metellos,  for  the  latter;  and  in 
the  Tktory  at  the  battle  of  Actium, 
being  taken  prisoner,  was  brought  be- 
fore Octavianus,  to  have  the  sentence 
of  death  pronounced  against  him; 
Metellus,  the  son,  knew  him,  though 
nrach  brokth  by  sortow  and  cbn6ne- 
ment,  and  ran,  with  tears  of  joy  in  his 
eyes,  into  his  father's  arms,  and  turn- 
tog  to  OctavianuSy  said,  ^Tbis  thy 
enemy  has  forfeited  his  life,  but  I  have 
merited  a  reward  for  the  services  I 
have  done  thee  in  war ;  I  entreat  thee, 
therefore,  give  this  venerable  aged 
mah  his  life,  and  pot  Ine  to  death 
instead  of  him.''  Octavianus,  moved 
by  his  filial  piety,  (though  he  had 
been  a  considerable  enemy;  gave  the 
son  the  life  of  his  father. — London 
Theat. 

POMPONIUS, 
A  Roman  knight,  being  in  Lucul- 
Ins's  army  against  Mithrid^es,  had  the 
nusfortane  to  be  desperately  wounded 
and  taken  prisoner;  and,  being  brought 
before  the  king,  he  demanded  if  he 
should  take  care  to  cure  him,  he  would 
be  his  friend;  to  whom  Pompontus 
answered,  ^<lf  he  would  be  a  friend  to 
the  people  of  Rome,  be  would  be  so 
to  ium;  but,  if  otherwise,  notwith- 
standing any  obligation  he  could  lay 
spoQ  him,  he  must  expect  him  to  be 
his  mortal  enemy." — Fulgos.  £x. 


INVENTION. 
A  stranger  publicly  said  that  he 
could  teach  Dionysius,  the  tyrant  of 
Syracuse,  an  infallible  way  to^find 
out  and  discover  all  the  conspiracies 
his  subjects  should  contrive  against 
hiiQ,  if  he  would  give  a  good  syra  of 
mneney  for  his  pains.  Dionysius  bear- 
ing of  it,  caused  the  man  to  be  brought 
b^bre  him,  that  lie  might  learn  an  art 
so  necessary  to  his  preservation ;  and 
having  asked  him  by  what  art  he 


might  make  such  discoveries,  the  fbl« 
low  made  answer,  that  all  the  art  be 
knew,  was,  that  Dionysius  should  give 
him  a  talent,  and  afterward  boast  that 
"  he  had  received  ajjreat  secret  from 
him."  Dionysius  hked  the  invention, 
and  accordingly  caused  six  hundred 
crowns  to  be  counted  out  to  him,  and 
this  served  as  well  to  keep  his  ene- 
mies  in  awe,  as  if  it  liad  been  real.  . 
Mont.  Ess.  Eog. 

couragje. 

L.  Sylla,  finding  his  army  almost 
broken  to  pieces,  and  ready  to  give 
way,  in  a  batde  against  Archelaus  ge* 
neral  of  king  Mithridates,  dismounted, 
laid  hold  of  an  ensign,  and  rushed  a- 
mong  his  enemies,  crying  out,  "  Here 
Roman  soldiers,  I  resolve  to  die, 
though  you  should  I^ave  me ;  and,  if 
any  man  hereafter  shall  ask  you  how 
and  where  you  left  your  general,  tell 
them  you  left  him  fighting  alone  in 
the  field  of  Orthomeuura.^*  The  sol- 
diers shamed  with  these  words,  stood 
their  ground,  renewed  the  figlit,  and 
won  the  victory. — Fulgas.  Ex. 

HENRY, 
Earl  of  Holsatia,  sumamed  Iron,  by 
reason  of  his  extraordinary  strength 
and  courage,  being  a  iavourite  of  Ed- 
ward III,  king  of  England,  was  hated 
by  the  courtiers,  who  taking  advan- 
tage of  the  king's  absence,  prevailed 
on  the  queen  to  make  trial  whether 
he  was  notdy  descended,  by  exposing 
him  to  a  lion,  alleging  the  li^n  would 
not  hurt  him  if  he  was  truly  nobl^ 
For  this  purpose  a  Hon  was  turned 
loose  in  the  nig'>/t;  and  Henry,  having 
a  oigift-gowa  on,  over  his  shirt,  with 
bis  girdle  and  sword,  in  which  pos- 
tute  he  used  to  walk  in  the  morn- 
ing, in  the  base  court  o(  Ac  castle, 
to  take  the  air,  met  with  the  lion 
roaring  and  frizding  his  shaggy  crest, 
buf  the  earl  being  undaunted,  said  in 
a  harsh  and  angry  tone,  **  Stand,  you 
dog;"  at  which  the  lion  crouched  at 
his  feet,  and  the  earl  took  him  by  the 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


106 


£fXSTOiUQAL. 


neck  and  pttt  him  into  his  den,  leav- 
ing the  nightcap  upon  the  lion's  back, 
and  so  wflJked  off  unconcerned ;  and 
looking  up  to  the  windows  where  the 
courtiers  were,  said,  <<Now  let  the 
proudest  of  you  all,  that  boast  so 
much  of  your  noble  birth,  go  and  fetch 
my  nigbt-ci^,  and  take  it  for  his 
pains;''  but  they  shamefully  pulled 
in  their  heads,  and  made  no  reply.— 
Grants.  Hist.  Saxon. 

For  the  Masohic  Rbgister. 
Mr.  Pratt, 

If  you  think  the  following  Biogra- 
phical Scraps  worthy  an  insertion  in 
^our  Register,  the  trouble  of  transcrib- 
mg  them  will  be  fully  paid. 

A.  F.  B. 
CURrOS  DANTATUS, 
Was  a  Roman,  and  lived  in  the  be- 
ginning of  the  Republic,  he  was  three 
times  consul,  received  twice  triumphal 
honours,  but  returned  always  aAer  his 
victories  to  the  plough,  and  lived  hum- 
bly on  his  farm.  Receiving,  once,  from 
certain  ambassadors,  considerable  of- 
fers of  gold  and  silver,  he  shewed  them 
his  kettle  full  of  radishes  and  greens, 
saying,  ^Mudge  if  a  man  who  b  con- 
tented with  such  repast,  has  need  of 
your  riches."  What  a  glorioos 
pie  for  independent  Americans ! 


THE  REV.  JOHN  WESLEY. 
Perhaps  the  most  charitable  man  in 
England  was  Mr.  Wesley  ^  his  Ube- 
rality  to  the  poor  knew  no  bounds. 
He  gave  away  not  merely  a  certain 
portion  of  his  income,  but  all  that  he 
had  (his  Own  necessaries  provided  for.) 
This  was  a  good  work,  in  which  he 
engaged  at  a  very  early  period.  When 
he  had  thirty  poimds  a  year,  he  lived 
upon  twenty-eight,  and  gave  away 
forty  shillioga.  The  next  year  receiv- 
ing sixty  pounds,  he  still  lived  on 
twaaty-eiglit,  and  gave  away  thirty- 
two;  the  third  year  he  received  ninety 
pounds,  and  gave  away  sixty-two; 
tlie  fourityeto:  he  received  one  hun- 


dred and  twenty  pounds,  still  he  lived 
on  twenty-eiglit,  and  gave  to  the  poor 
ninety-two  pounds.  At  this  rate  he 
proceeded  during  the  rest  of  his  life, 
upon  a  moderate  calculation  having 
given  away  in  about  fifty  years,  twemy 
or  thirty  thousand  pounds  sterling, 
which  almost  any  other  but  himself 
would  have  taken  care  to  put  out  at 
interest,  on  good  security. 

Go  ye,  unmarried  men^  fnd  do  like- 
wise. 

THE  RIGHT  REV.  GEORGE  HORN, 
In  his  writings  was  ironical  and  gay. 
When  Dr.  A.  Smith  wrote  an  eulogium 
on  Hume,  Horn  reprobated  the  ful- 
some panegyric  with  the  most  exqui- 
site humour.  He  laments  that  a  man 
of  sense  should,  in  compliment  to  a 
few  agreeable  qualities,  overlook  a 
design  to  subvert  every  idea  of  truth 
and  comfort,  salvation  and  immortal- 
ity, and  the  providence,  nay,  the  ex- 
istence of  God.  He  says  in  his  letter 
to  Smith,  ^  Hume,  I  doubt  not,  was  as 
you  affirm,  a  social  agreeable  person, 
of  a  convivial  turn ;  told  a  good  story, 
and  played  well  at  his  favourite  game 
of  whist.  I  know  not  that  John  the 
painter  did  the  same,  but  there  is  no 
absurdity  in  the  supposition;  if  he 
did  not,  he  might  have  done  it.  I 
would  only  infer  this  much,  that  I 
could  not,  on  that  account,  bring  my-* 
self  absolutely  to  approve  his  odd  fan- 
cy of  firing  all  the  dock-yards  in  the 
kingdom.''  Thus  ludicrously  keen  he 
repelled  the  contagion  of  infidelity, 
and  refuted  that  vain  philosophy,  the 
utmost  scope  and  power  of  which  is 
to  give  mankind  '^  a  doubtful  solution 
of  doubtful  doubts." 


KING  HENRY  II, 

In  his  expedition  against  the  Welch, 
passing  a  streight  among  the  roouo- 
tains  of  Wales,  had  the  misfortune  to 
lose  many  of  his  men;  and  Eustace 
Fhz  John>  with  Robert  Coursy,  and 
the  king  hin^elf,  were  reported  to  be 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


lor 


killed ;  which  so  discouraged  diat  part 
of  the  £nglisb  army  that  had  not  pass- 
ed the  streights,  that  Henry,  Earl  of 
Essex,  threw  down  the  kingV  stand- 
ard, that  be  carried  by  inheritance, 
and  fled  ;  but  the  king  soon  made  it 
known  that  he  was  alire,  for  he  routed 
the  Welch,  aifd  brought  them  to  seek 
their  peace  by  submission.  The  earl 
of  Essex  was  afterwards  accused  of 
cowardice  by  Robert  dc  Blainfort,  and 
having  the  combat  granted  him,  was 
overcome,  and,  at  the  intercession  of 
his  friends,  pardoned  for  life,  but  was 
condemned  to  be  shorn  a  monk,  to  be 
pot  into  the  Abbey  at  Reading,  and 
all  his  lands  and  estate  wyre  confisca- 
ted to  the  king. — Hist.  Eng. 


MISCELLANEOUS. 

EUOEraA  DE  MIRANDE. 

AN  INTERESTING    STORY. — FROM   THE 
PRENCH, 

(Concluded  from  page  78.) 

*^  To  establish  a  claim  that  is  just, 
the  security  of  one  of  our  armies  ren^ 
dered  it  necessary  to  destroy  an  estab- 
lishment which  the  husband  of  the 
widow  founded :  she  adu  for  indem- 
nity." 

^And  must  she  have  protection, 
madam,  to  obtain  thb  ?" 

^  Protection  is  not  necessary  to  ob- 
tain it,  because  it  is  just ;  but  we  wish 
for  protection,  in  order  that  the  busi- 
ness may  not  linger  in  the  bureaux^ 
before  it  is  seen  b^  the  minister." 

^<I  see,"  said  Latremblaye,  the 
name  of  the  young  man,  ^'  that  we 
must  lay  before  the  minister  a  con- 
cise and  clear  memorial,  which  shall 
make  him  feel  ^e  justices  of  the 
claim." 

« That  is  just  the  thing ;  but  the 
memorial  must  be  drawn." 

Both  were  silent. 

"I  scarcely  dare  ask  you,"  said 
Eugenia. 

"  Why  not  ?  I  should  have  offered 
to  do  it,  if  I  had  not  been  afraid  of 


doing  it  ill.  Besides,  I  am  ignorant 
of  the  details  of  the  affair." 

''  I  win  communicate  them." 

Eugenia  retired  a  moment,  and  re- 
turned with  her  father.  She  requested 
him  to  ask  Latremblaye  to  dinner,  in 
order  that  he  might  be  furnished  with 
the  details  of  the  business  in  question. 
The  old  gentleman  intreated  the  young 
man  to  fix  a  day,  which,  after  mutual 
compliments,  he  did. 

Latremblaye  came  at  the  appointed 
time ;  the  dinner  was  gay,  and  the 
conversation  lively :  every  subject  was 
introduced,  except  the  one  which  had 
been  the  occasion  of  the  dinner.  La- 
tremblaye thought  Eugenia  charming. 
She  was  well  informed,  and  had  viva- 
city and  wit  After  dinner  she  intro- 
duced the  affiiir  of  the  unfortunate 
lady.  Latremblaye  heard  her  with 
attention,  and  promised  to  draw  up 
the  memorial  in  two  days.  He  pei^ 
formed  his  promise,  and  succeeded 
perfectly  well :  energy,  clearness,  pr^ 
cision :  nothing  was  wanting.  Euge- 
nia read  it  with  marks  of  the  highest 
satisfaction. 

"  There  is  a  strength,  a  sensibility, 
snr,  in  the  style,  which  render  it  im- 
possible for  the  minister  not  to  yield 
to  your  reasoning ;  and  wer^  I  in  the 
minister's  place,  you  should  certainly 
not  experience  a  refusal." 

Latremblaye  blushed,  and  knew  not 
what  to  reply. 

<*  Nor  is  this  all,  sir ;  we  must  givfc 
to  your  memorial  a  new  degree  of 
^oquence;  it  must  be  presented  by 
the  person  herself  who  is  supposed  to 
have  written  it.  The  gesture,  voice, 
and  look  of  the  person  interested  will 
add  to  the  impression  it  ought  to  pro- 
duce* Attempt  to  procure  a  rendez- 
vous, in  order  that  the  Udy  may  de^ 
liver  it  herself  to  the  minister." 

After  a  week's  exertions,  Latrem* 
blaye  came  one  evening  to  Eugenia 
with  a  triumphant  air.  <<  I  have  pro- 
cured an  interview  for  to-morrow; 
give  your  friend  notice,  and  wkh  this 
paper  all  doors  will  be  open  to  her." 

<<  What  gratitude  do  I  not  owe  you  ? 


108 


IUSCELLANB0U8. 


You  will  have  the  satisfaction  of  hav- 
tcg  snatched  this  poor  family  from 
despair;  but  do  not  abundop  her  till 
you  have  conducted  her  to  the  door. 
A  woman  softened  by  grief,  and  timid, 
would  appear  to  disadvantage  unac- 
companied. Do  you  consent  to  go 
with  her  ?" 

This  last  act  of  complaisance  cost 
Latremblaye'rauch;  yet  the  habit  of 
yielding  to  the  wishes  of  Eugenia,  the 
desire  of  insuring  the  success  of  the 
business,  a  curiosity  to  see  the  un- 
known,  conquered  his  repugnance, 
and  be  promised  to  come  the  next  day 
to  Eugenia's,  where  the  mysterious 
lady  was  to  be. 

The  next  day,  EugeqK!,  without  be- 
ing fijll  dressed,  was  more  carefully 
dressed  than  usual;  her  hair  fell 
gracefully  over  her  forehead  and  down 
her  neck,  her  eyes  sparkled,  and  her 
bosom  heaved,  as  Latremblaye  enter- 
ed. He  looked  round  the  room,  and 
said,  "  the  lady  is  not  yet  come  ?** 

^<  No,''  replied  Eugenia,  with  some 
emotion. 

"I  will  wait  for  her.** 

He  took  a  seat  near  the  tea-table  at 
which  Eugenia  was  sitting.  A  silence 
of  some  minutes  ensued.  Each  stole 
looks  at  the  other.  Latremblaye 
blushed,  and  would  have  been  put  out 
of  countenance  if  Eugenia  had  not 
blushed  also. 

Latremblaye  at  length  said,  but  with 
some  hesitation,  ^'  I  ought,  madam,  to 
bless  this  circumstance  (Eugenia  cast 
her  eyes  upon  the  ground),  which  has 
introduced  me  to  your  acquaintance." 

"  Whatever  satisfaction  you  feel,  sir, 
you  roust  derive  from  a  conviction  of 
merit.  The  zeal  you  have  shown — I 
assuve  you  I  have  been — gratified, 
pleased  with  it." 

A  second  silence  ensued  as  long  as 
the  first.  Latremblaye  at  length  took 
a  desperate  resolution. 

*'  I  know  not  that  I  am  doing  right ; 
but  I  cannot  conceal  what  I  feel — ^you 
know  it  as  well  as  I  do." 

Eugenia  could  by  a  word  have  reliev- 
ed his  embarrassment;  but  in  such  cir- 


cumstances the  female  bosom,  however 
humane,  never  carries  its  humanitj 
so  far,  and  when  arrived  at  that  point, 
women  force  us  to  tell  them  what  they 
know  already ;  so  that  the  poor  young 
man  confessed  he  loved  her.  Eugenia 
had  propriety  enough  to  keep  a  just 
medium  between  the  ofiended  air  which 
only  would  have  suited  a  prude,  and 
that  satisfied  manner  which  ill  accords 
hwith  the  modesty  of  her  sex.  The 
conversation  changed ;  but  it  became 
animated  and  lively ;  relieved  from  a 
burden,  it  proceeded  with  lightness, 
grace,  and  case.  Questions  were  ask- 
ed and  answered  without  hesitation ; 
each  communicated  their  pursuits, 
their  modes  of  thinking  and  speaking 
upon  different  subje^s,  with  such  con- 
fidence, that  they  did  not  perceive  they 
had  been  waiting  for  the  lady  three 
quarters*  of  an  hour. 

Latremblaye  at  length  noticed  the 
non-arrival. — "  She  is  not  come  yet !" 

"  She  will  not  come  at  all,"  replied 
Eugenia. 

Latremblaye,  in  utter  astonishment, 
looked  at  Eugenia,  whose  eyes  an- 
swered only  by  an  expression  of  lan- 
gour,  mixed  with  a  smile,  which  pro- 
duced together  an  inexpressible  grace. 

"  Would  you,"  said  Eugenia,  "  be 
very,  very  angry  with  me,  if,  by 
chance,  there  should  be  no  truth  in 
the  history  of  my  unfortunate  lady? 
if  all  this  was  but  a  proof,  a  means  of 
pointing  out  to  my  heart  a  man  whose 
sensibility  was  not  the  efiect  of  sensual 
desires  ?" 

Latremblaye  knew  not  what  to 
answer. 

"You  will  perhaps,  believe  me," 
continued  Eugenia,  ^^  when  I  tell  you 
that  I  have  received  the  homage  of 
several  men;  will  yeu  also  believe 
roe,  when  I  add,  that  none  of  those  , 
who  distinguished  me  was  precisely* 
such  a  one  as  I  wished  ?  The  death 
of  my  mother,  whom  I  lost  early,  has 
given  a  considerable  degree  of  inde- 
peiuience  to  my  mind.  My  father  is 
my  filenil ;  I  consult  him  always;  his 


msC^LLANBOUS. 


109 


he  permitted  me  to  make  a  trial,  a 
bold  one  without  doubt,  but  which, 
however,  could  go  no  further  than  I 
wished.^' 

"  I  am  not  recovered  from  my  sur- 
prise,'* said  Latrembraye— "  What ! 
was  It  but  a  feint?  It  has  cost  you 
oiuch,  I  am  sure,  for  I  recollect  seve- 
ral circumstances  in  which  you  were 
iaterdicted." 

^It  is  true;  but  I  was  supported 

Sr  the  intention  of  confessing  every 
mg." 

**  And  my  memorial  ?** 

^  I  will  keep  it,''  said  Eugenia,  ^^  as 
a  monument  of  the  goodness  of  your 
heart,  and  the  eloquence  o||pur  style.'' 

^  And  the  author  of  the  memorial, 
-what  will  you  make  of  him  ?" 

"My  husband,"  replied  Eugenia, 
with  downcast  looks,  "if  he  wishes  it, 
and  if  our  two  families  consent." 

The  two  lamilies,  composed  of 
good  persons,  easily  consented,  and 
the  young  couple  were  united  at  Paris 
a  few  weeks  ago. .  As  soon  as  they 
were  united  tf^y  went  to  pay  a  visit 
to  madame  C****,  to  relieve  her  from 
her  benevoleat  anxiety,  and  to  make 
her  an  elegant  present  for  the  bundle 
which  she  had  sent  for  the  unfortunate 
hdji 

—^^^■"# 
AN  INTERESTING  ORIENTAL  TALE. 

A  family  in  a  moderate  condition 
dwelt  at  Vou  Si,  a  town  dependent  on 
Uie  city  of  Tchat^Tcheou  in  thd  pro- 
vince of  Kiang  $an:  three  brotners 
composed  this  family ;  the  eldest  was 
called  Liu  the  Diamond,  the  next  Lin 
the  Treasure,  and  tlie  third  Liu  the 
Pearl;  the  latter  was  not  yet  old 
enough  for  marriage,  but  the  other  two 
were  already  married ;  the  wife  of  the 
first  was  called  Oaang,  and  that  of  the 
younger  Yang,  and  they  had  both  all 
those  charms  that  render  women  agree- 
able. 

Liu  the  Treasure  had  a  strong  pas- 
sion for  earning  and  drioking,  and  dis- 
covered little  inclination  to  any  thing 
that  was  good ;  his  wife  was  of  the 


same  character,  and  had  little  regard 
for  virtue,  greatly  differing  in  this  from 
Ouang  her  sister-in-law,  who  was  an 
example  of  mpdesty  and  regularity ; 
thus,  though  these  two  women  seem- 
ingly kept  up  a  good  understanding 
between  each  other,  their  hearts  were 
but  weakly  united. 

Ouang  had  a  son  sumamed  Hieul, 
that  is.  The  Son  of  Rejoicing ;  this 
child  was  but  six  years  old,  when  one 
day  stopping  in  the  street  with  other 
children  in  the  neighbourhood,  to  be- 
hold a  solemn  procession,  he  was  lost 
in  the  crowd,  and  did  not  return  home 
in  the  evenings 

This  loss  rendered  his  parents  in- 
consolable, who  put  up  advertise- 
ments m  all  public  places,  and  in- 
quired after  him  in  every  street,  but 
all  to  no  purpose,  for  they  could  hear 
no  news  of  their  dear  son.  Liu  his 
father  was  overwhelmed  with  sorrow, 
and  in  the  midst  of  his  melancholy  he 
determined  to  forsake  his  bouse, 
where  every  thing  called  to  mind  the 
memory  of  his  dear  Hieul;  be  bor- 
rowed of  one  of  his  friends  a  small 
sum  to  carry  on  a  little  traffic  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  city^  flattering 
himself  that  in  those  short  and  fre- 
quent excursions  he  should  at  length 
find  the  treasure  he  had  lost. 

As  his  mind  was  wholly  taken  up 
with  his  son,  he  was  little  affected 
with  the  advantages  he  gained  from 
trade ;  however,  he  carried  it  on  for 
the  space  of  five  years,  without  going 
a  great  dbtance  from  his  own  house, 
whither  he  returned  every  year  to  pass 
the  autumnal  season;  in  short,  not 
finding  his  son  after  so  many  years, 
and  believing  him  lost  without  re- 
demption, and  perceiving  likewise 
that  bis  wife  Ouang  was  likely  to  have 
no  more  children,  he  determined  to 
withdraw  himself  entirely  from  so 
much  un^iness ;  and  as  he  had  in- 
creased his  stock,  his  design  was  to  go 
and  trade  in  another  province. 

On  the  road  he  met  with  a  rich 
merchant,  who,  perceiving  his  talents 
and  skill  in  trade,  made  him  an  ad« 


110 


MISCJULLANCOUS. 


vantageous  oflfer,  and  the  desire  of 
groiriDg  rich  made  him  forget  hb 
trouble. 

Hardly  were  they  arrived  in  the 
province  of  Chang  Si,  but  every  thing 
succeeded  to  their  wishes ;  they  had  a 
quick  sale  for  their  merchandise,  and 
the  profit  was  considerable:  the  pay- 
ment, which  was  deferred  on  account 
of  two  years  famine  that  afflictea  the 
country,  and  a  tedious  distemper 
wherewith  Liu  was  seized,  kept  him 
three  years  in  that  province;  after  he 
had  recovered  his  health  and  his  mo- 
ney, he  set  out  in  order  to  return  to  his 
own  country. 

Happening  to  stop  on  the  road  near 
a  town  called  Tcfain  Lieou  to  recover 
from  his  fatigues,  he  perceived  a  gir- 
dle of  blue  cloth  in  the  shape  of  a  long 
narrow  bag,  such  as  is  worn  tmder  a 
gown,  and  used  to  carry  money  in  5 
going  to  take  it,  he  found  it  of  a  con- 
siderable weight,  and  drawing  a  little 
to  one  side,  he  opened  the  baig,  and 
found  about  two  hundred  taels. 

At  the  sight  of  this  treasure  he 
made  the  following  reflections:  ^'It 
is  my  good  fortune  that  has  put  this 
sum  into  my  hands,  and  1  may  keep 
it  if  I  please,  and  make  use  of  it  with- 
out dread  of  any  bad  consequence; 
however,  he  who  has  lost  It,  as  soon 
as  it  comes  to  his  knowledge,  will  be 
in  a  dreadful  agony,  and  retturfi  to 
seek  it  as  soon  as  possible:  k  has 
been  said  that  our  ancestors^  when 
they  have  found  money  in  this  man- 
ner, have  taken  it  fiprno  other  end  but 
to  restore  it  to  the  true  owner :  this 
seems  to  me  just  and  equitable,  and 
worthy  of  imitation,  especially  con- 
sidering that  I  an  grown  old,  and 
have  no  heir  to  succe^  me,  I  have  no 
occasion  to  retain  money  which  I  can- 
not strictly  call  my  own." 

At  the  same  instant  he  went  and 
placed  himself  near  the  spot  where  he 
found  the  bag,  and  waited  there  the 
whole  day  wimout  any  person  coming 
to  claim  it,  and  the  next  day  be  conti- 
nued his  journey. 

After  six  days'  traveling,  he  arrivi- 


ed  in  the  evening  at  Nan  Sou  Tcheoo, 
and  took  up  his  lodging  in  an  inn 
where  were  several  other  merchants ; 
their  discourse  falling  upon  the  acci- 
dents of  trade,  one  of  the  company 
said,  ^^five  days  ago  when  I  left 
Tchin  Lieou  I  lost  two  hundred  taets^ 
which  1  had  in  my  undermost  girdle ; 
I  had  taken  off  this  girdle,  and  placed 
it  near  me  while  I  took  a  little  test, 
when  suddenly  a  Mandarin  with  all 
his  train  passing  by,  I  got  put  bf  the 
way  for  fear  of  an  insult,  and  forgot  to 
take  up  my  money,  and  it  was  not  till 
I  went  to  undress  myself  at  night  that 
I  perceived  my  loss ;  I  was  fully  con- 
vinced tha^  would  be  to  so  purpose 
to  return  back,  since  the  place  where 
I  slept  was  much  frequented,  ana 
therefore  it  was  not  worth  while  to' re- 
tard my  joimiey  in  search  of  what  I 
was  sure  not  to  find." 

Every  one  pitied  his  hard  lot,  and 
Liu  immediately  demanded  the  name, 
and  place  of  abode ;  your  servant,  re- 
plied the  merchant,  is  called  Tchin, 
and  lives  at  Yang  Tcheou,  where  he 
has  a  shop  and  a  pretty  large  stock  | 
but  pray  nay  I  ask,  in  my  turn,  to 
whom  I  have  the  honour  of  speaking  ? 
Lin  told  him  his  name,  aod  that  M 
was  an  inhaWtant  of  the  city  Votf -^  ; 
my  direct  way  thither,  added  he,  is 
through  Yang  Tcheou,  and  if  yoo 
please  I  will  do  myself  the  pleasure 
of  accompanying  you  to  your  own 
house. 

Tthm  replied,  with  a  great  deal  of 
poBteness,  with  all  my  hKsart,  if  yon 
please,  we  will  go  together,  and  I 
think  myself  happy  to  meet  with  such 
good  company.  Early  the  next  morn- 
ing they  set  out  on  t\mr  journey  t^ 
gether,  and  as  it  was  not  very  long, 
they  soon  came  to  Yang  Tcheou. 

After  the  usual  civilities,  Tchin  in- 
vited his  fellow-traveller  into  the 
house,  and  served  up  a  small  colla- 
tion ;  then  Liu  began  to  talk  of  the 
money  lost  at  Tchm  Lieou :  of  what 
colour,  said  h?,  was  the  girdle  where- 
iu  your  money  was  contained  ?  and 
how  was  it^p^gy^It  was  of  blue 


MiSCELLANKOUS. 


in 


cloch,  replied  Tchin,  and  that  which 
distinguished  it  from  all  others  was 
the  character  Ti^hln  at  one  of  its  ends^ 
which  is  my  name,  and  is  worked  in 
with  white  silk.N 

Tbb  description  leaving  no  farther 
doabt,  Liu  said  with  a  cheerftil  air,  if 
I  have  asked  you  so  many  questions, 
it  18  because  I  have  found  such  a  gir- 
dle as  you  describe,  and  drew  it  out 
at  the  same  time ;  see,  said  he,  if  this 
bdoiun  to  you ;  it  is  the  very  same, 
said  TchiO)  upon  which  Liu  present- 
ed it  to  its  true  owner. 

Tchio,  full  of  gratitude,  pressed 
Um  greatly  to  accept  of  half  df  the 
sm,  but  to  no  purpose,  for  Liu  would 
tiiiie^  nothing :  how  great  is^y  obliga- 
twDfTesumed  Tchin !  where  may  be 
fattna^such  great  honesty  and  generos- 
ity as  yours  ?  He  then  ordered  a 
handsome  treat,  and  they  invited  each 
other  to  drink  with  great  demonstra- 
tions of  Iriendship. 

Tchin  said  within  himself,  where 
shaH  I  find  in  these  days  a  man  of 
equal  probity  with  Liu  ?  people  of  his 
character  are  very  rare ;  but  why 
should  I  receive  so  great  a  benefit 
from  him,  and  not  think  of  an  ac- 
knowledgment ?  I  have  a  daughter 
about  twelve  years  old,  and  am  desi- 
rous o^  alliance  with  so  good  a  man ; 
but  has  he  ever  a  son  ?  tliat  is  what  I 
am  ignorant  of:  dear  friend,  said  he 
to  him,  have  you  a  son  ?  and  of  what 
age  may  your  son  be  ? 

At  thb  question  the  tears  fell  from 
^  eyes  of  Lin:  Alas!  replied  he,  I 
had  but  one  son,  who  was  infinitely 
dear  to  me,  and  seven  years  ago 
walking  out  to  behold  a  procession  he 
<fisappeared,  and  I  could  learn  no 
news  of  him  ever  since ;  and  to  add 
to  my  unhappiness,  my  wife  has  had 
no  more  children. 

At  this  relation  Tchin  seemed  very 
thoughtful  for  a  moment,  then  resum- 
ing the  discourse,  my  brother  and 
benefactor,  said  be,  how  old  was  your 
dear  child  when. you  lost  him?  He 
was  5ix  years  old,  replied  I  iu :  What 
was  bissurnaime?  added  Tchia,  and 


how  was  he  made  ?  We  called  him 
Hieul,  replied  Liu;  he  had  had  the 
small  pox,  but  it  had  left  no  marks 
upon  his  face;  bis  complexion  was 
fair  and  florid* 

This  account  gave  great  joy  to 
Tchin,  and  he  could  not  help  show- 
ing it  in  his  eyes  and  countenance; 
he  immediately  called  one  of  his  do- 
mestics, to  whom  he  whispered  some- 
thing iu  his  ear ;  the  servant  made  a 
sign  that  he  would  obey  his  master^s 
orders,  and  went  hilo  the  inward  part 
of  the  house. 

.  Liu  attentive  to  these  various  ques- 
tions, and  the  cheerfulness  that  ap- 
peared in  the  countenance  of  his  host, 
was  taken  up  with  a  great  many 
doubts,  when  he  saw  enter  a  young 
domestic  about  thirteen  years  old;  he 
was  clad  in  a  long  gown  and  a  hand- 
some surtout;  he  was,  well  shaped, 
his  features  were  regular,  his  air 
modest,  and  hb  carriage  agreeable ; 
be  had  fine  black  eyebrows,  and  eyes 
lively  and  piercing,  which  immedi- 
ately struck  the  heart  and  eyes  of 
Liu. 

When  the  young  boy  saw  a  stran- 
ger sat  at  the  table,  he  turned  towards 
him  and  made  him  a  low  bow,  then 
going  near  Tchin,  he  stood  in  a  mod- 
est manner  over  against  him :  My 
father,  said  he,  with  a  sweet  and 
aiit'ecable  voice,  }*ou  have  called 
liieiil,  what  would  you  be  pleased  to 
have  with  him  ?  I  will  tell  you  by  and 
by,  replied  Tchin,  therefore  stand  near 
me,  and  wait  a  little. 

The  name  of  Hieul,  that  was  given 
to  the  boy,  still  increased  the  suspi- 
cions of  Liu  ;  a  secret  impression 
seized  his  heart,  and  by  a  wonderful 
syfnpaiby  of  nature  recalled  to  his 
mind  the  image  of  his  son,  his  shape, 
his  visagei  his  air,  and  his  manners ; 
he  saw  Uiem  all  in  the  person  that  he 
beheld,  and  there  was  nothing  but  the 
name  of  father,  which  he  gave  to 
Tdiin,  that  put  him  to  a  stand ;  be 
thought  it  «i  as  not  civH  to  ask  Tchin 
whether  be  was  in  reality  his  s6n,  be- 
cause it  i^iigbl  lumpen  that  tW9  cbi!' 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


lU 


MISCSLLAlMBOUS. 


dern  might  have  the  same  narae^  and 
resemble  each  other. 

Liu  was  so  taken  up  with  these  re- 
flections that  he  thought  little  of  the 
entertainment;  the  strange  perplexity 
he  was  in  might  be  seen  ip  his  counte- 
nance, and  something  unaccountable 
made  him  steadfastly  keep  his  eye  on 
the  young  boy,  insomudt  that  he  could 
look  at  nothing  else :  Hieul,  on  the 
other  hand,  notwithstanding  the  fear- 
fulness  and  modesty  of  his  age,  looked 
steadfast  upon  Liu,  and  it  seemed  as 
if  nature  had  discovered  at  that  instant 
that  he  was  his  father. 

In  short,  Liu  could  no  longer  sup- 
press the  agitation  of  his  heart,  and 
breaking  silence  all  of  a  sudden,  ask- 
ed Tchin  if  he  was  in  reality  his  son  ? 
It  was  not  from  me,  replied  Tchin, 
that  he  received  life,  though  I  look 
upon  him  as  my  own  son;  seven 
years  ago  a  man  passed  through  this 
city,  le^ngthis  boy  in  his  hand,  and 
by  chance  addressed  himself  to  me, 
and  prayed  me  to  assist  him  in  his 
extreme  necessity :  My  wife,  says  he, 
is  dead,  and  has  only  left  me  this  child ; 
the  bad  state  of  my  affairs  has  obliged 
me  to  kave  my  country  for  a  time, 
and  retire  to  Hoai  Ngnan  among  my 
reiutions,  from  whom  I  expect  a  sum 
of  money  that  1  may  settle  myself 
again;  E  have  not  wherewithal  to 
bear  the  charges  of  my  journey,  will 
you  therefore  be  so  charitabk  as  to 
advance  three  taels?  I  will  restore 
them  faithfully  when  I  return,  and  as 
a  pledge  of  my  honesty  I  will  commit 
to  your  keeping  what  I  hold  most  dear 
in  the  world,  that  is,  my  only  son ;  I 
shall  -no  sooner  arrive  at  Hoai  Ngnan, 
but  I  will  return  and  fetch  this  dear 
child. 

This  confidence  affected  me  much ; 
I  put  into  his  hands  the  sum  that  he 
required,  and  when  he  left  me  shed 
tears,  testifying  that  he  left  his  son 
with  extreme  regret;  though  what 
surprised  me  was  that  the  child  seem- 
ed unconcerned  at  the  separation; 
but  not  seeing  the  pretended  father 
return,  I  bad  suspicions  that  I  wanted 


to  have  cleared  up;  .1  called  the  diild, 
and  by  the  different  questions  that  I 
asked  him,  I  found  that  he  was  bom 
in  the  city  of  Vou  Si ;  that  one  day 
being  from  home  to  see  a  procession 
pass  by,  and  going  a  litde  t6o  far,  he 
was  deceived  and  carried  off  by  a  per- 
son unknown;  he  told  me  alsa  the 
name  of  his  father  and  mother,  and  I 
soon  perceived  that  the  child  had 
been  stolen  by  a  villain,  foi:  which 
reason  I  treated  hhn  with  compassion, 
and  his  behaviour  to  me  gained  my 
heart :  I  have  often  intended  to  take 
a  journey  on  purpose  to  Vou  Si,  to 
gain  information  concerning  his  fami- 
ly, but  still  I  have  been  prevented  by 
some  acciSnt  or  other:  it  happened 
very  fortunately  that  a  few  momenlp 
ago  yon  were  speaking  of  your  son, 
and  some  of  your  words  recalled  past 
transactions  fresh  to  my  memory, 
upon  which  I  sent  for  the  boy  to  see 
if  you  knew  him. 

At  these  words  Hieul  began  to  shed 
tears  through  excess  of  joy,  at  the 
sight  of  which  Liu  did  the  same ;  a 
particular  mark,  says  he,  will  make 
this  matter  stiU  more  plain;  a  little 
above  hb  knee  is  a  black  spot,  which 
was  the  effect  of  his  mother's  longing 
when  she  was  with  child  of  him  ;  at 
this  Hieul  showed  a  mark,  whicli  Lio 
seeing,  took  him  up  in  his  arms  a^t 
embraced  him :  My  son !  said  he, 
my  dear  son  I  by  what  good  fortune 
have  I  found  thiee  again  after  so  lon^ 
an  absence! 

(Continued  in  p.  149.) 


raOlf  THt  LONDOV  LX1IM3ER. 

CAUSE  OF  CRIME. 
In  aU  the  inquiries  that  have  been 
made  into  the  state  of  criminality  in 
thb  country,  it  has  been  uniformly 
found,  that  habits  of  drinking  have 
been  the  primary,  or  the  occasional . 
cause.  In  all  the  trials  at  the  Old 
Bailey,  the  first  evidenc^e  given  is  the 
visit  to  the  public  .house,  and  the 
quantity  of  gin  drank  by  the  panies. 
All  the  rest  fdllows.of  course,  and  the 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


BOSOBLLAltlOtrS. 


113 


faupdibeod  or  barbarity  disT^yed  in 
the  commission  of  the  crimen  is  clearly 
traced  in  the  use  of  ardent  spirits.  But 
it  is  Hot  new  H>  complain  of  this  mis- 
chief^ this  national  cause  of  crime. 

Id  1732  or  1733,  when  distilled  li- 
ooors  were  comparatively  little  known, 
mey  were  styled  the  ^*  bane  of  the 
aation/'  and  parliament  mterfered, 
to  keep  them  as  much  as  possible 
from  the  hands  of  the  lower  class. 
*Ia  about  ten  years,  however,  that  law 
vas  80  nK>dified,  and  in  part  repeal- 
ed, that  the  same  facilities  were 
l^ven,  as  the  public  now  enjoy,  mid 
vbat  was  then  foretold,  has  come  to 
pass.  We  are  all  convinf^  of  the 
cri/,  and  we  know  the  remedy ;  but 
ve  dare  not  propose  it ;  for  if  we  at- 
tempt such  a  proposition,  we  shall 
be'itnniediately  told  of  the  vast  reve- 
ille arising  from  spirits,  and  of  the 
fast  number  of  persons  who  get  their 
bread  by  making  or  selling  them. — 
Doubdess,  sir,  to  annihilate  the  man- 
ofiicture  of  spirits,*  would  now  be  a 

rat  evil.  But  here  is  the  mischief, 
would  not  have  been  a  great  evil 
once,  if  the  arguments  with  which  the 
senate  and  pulpit  resounded,  at  the  pe- 
nod  abovementioned,  had  been  listen- 
ed to.  It  would  have  been  an  evil  of 
comparatively  very  slight  extent.  But 
BOW,  I  am  willing  to  allow,  it  would 
be,  in  a  Jinancial  view,  a  very  great 
evil;  and  if  h  be  brought  about  at  all^ 
OQght  to  be  brought  about  very  grad- 
ually, and  with  as  little  risk  of  indi- 
vidoal  kiss  as  possible.  Still  let  us 
Bot  despsdr.  Let  us  not  shut  our  eyes 
to  the  miseries  occasioned  by  the  ez-^ 
cessive  use  of  ardent  spirits,  nor  be  so 
frr  deluded  as  to  look  for  any  cause, 
while  thb  mott  ofmou»  one  exists. 
Our  prison  reformers  very  properly 
recommended  that  nothing  of  the  kind 
should  be  admitted  into  pHtons.  This 
b  an  open  acknowledgment  of  the  fact 
I  have  stated.  Bot  would  not  much 
more  good  be  done,  and  the  labours 
of  tfaei«  reformers  be  much  shortened, 
tf  the  prohibition  extended  to  those 
•ut  of  jail^  as  weQ  as  those  in  it? 


I  observe  it  is  recommended  to 
apotbecaries  to  put  upon  certain  med- 
icines, a  labd,  with  the  word/K>iso» 
on  it.  Would  it  not  be  equally  salu- 
tary to  write  poiaon  upon  every  IxHtle 
of  gin  in  a  public  hooee  ? 

Another  writer  on  the  ^  cause  of 
paoperiam"  says,  <*  you  boast  of  hav- 
ing  laws  and  a  constitution  to  make 
nten  happy,  yet  you  suffer  a  great 
calamity  to  eiist,  which  is  the  heart 
of  all  miseries.  You  hang  a  man  for 
stealing  a  sheep,  yet  you  consider  it 
an  encroachment  on  liberty,  to  pre* 
vent  the  means  of  his  becoming  a 
thief.  England  wants  only  sobriety 
to  make  her  an  example  to  every  na- 
tion on  earth ;  but,  alas  !  to  speak  the 
honest  truth,  she  is  now  pointed  at  as 
the  drunken  .nation,  and  I  may  add, 
the  swearing  nation,  which  is  a  natu- 
ral consequence  of  inebriety ;  as  men. 
when  flushed  with  liquor,  are  urged 
to  a  violation  of  all  decency.  Thrice 
happy  Scotland,  where  drunkenness 
is  a  rarity,  common  swearing  never 
heard,  and  crime  nearly  unknown,  as 
appears  from  an  observation  in  the 
Momhag  Post,  stating  that  there  had 
not  been  an  execution  for  murder  in 
Glasgow  for  twelve  years,  although 
the  population  of  the  circtut  exceeded 
two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  souk  / 
This  happy  state  of  things  I  should 
impute  more  to  the  sobriety  of  the 
Scotch  people,  than  even  to  their  re- 
ligious instructions ;  for  the  most  ex- 
act religious  establishment  can  do  but 
little  toward  lessening  crime,  or  pre- 
serving morals,  where  the  mass  of  the 
people  are  debased  by  the  use  oi  strong 
drink  /  Surely,  surely,  sir !  it  cannot 
be  said  that  bad  habits,  fraught  w^th 
ruin  to  man  and  society,  smild  ire 
licensed  any  more  than  th^crimes 
whic^  they  produce. 


A  CftOWN. 

A  Frencb  officer,  who  was  a  pris* 
oner,  on  his  parole  at  Reeding,  met 
with  a  Bible«  He  read  it,  and  was  so 
struck  wid|  its  contaal^  Unt.  he  was 

,  digitized  by  VjOOQ  Ic 


114 


MI8CBLLAMBOU8. 


convinced  of  ^tt  felly  of  sceptical 
principles^  and  of  the  truth  of  Chris- 
tianity,  and  resolved  tobecome  a  pro- 
t«*stant.  When  his  gay  associates  ral- 
lied him  for  takinjBf  so  serioos  a  turn, 
he  said  in  his  vindication,  <H  have 
done  po  more  thao  my  old  school-fel- 
low Bemadotte,  who  is  become  a  Ln- 
therail.''  ^  Yes,  but  he  became  so/' 
said  his  associates,  ^  to  obtain  a 
crown.*^  '<  My  motive,'*  said  the 
Christian  officer,  ^Ms  the  same;  we 
only  differ  as  to  place.  The  object  of 
Bernadotte  was  to  obtain  a  crown  in 
Sweden — mine  is  to  obtain  a  crown  io 
Heaven." 

A  FAITHFUL  TIMEPIECE. 
A  corporal  of  the  king  of  Prussia's 
guard,  who  was  remarkably  vain,  but 
reckoned  a  man  of  great  bravery,  be- 
ing unable  to  purchase  a  watch,  fixed 
a  leaden  bullet  to  a  chain,  and  wore  it 
in  his  fob.  The  king  one  day  having 
a  mind  to  be  merry,  addressed  him 
thus  z  "  Well,  Mr.  Corporal,  you 
must  have  been  a  great  economist,  to 
be  able  to  purch^  a  watch.  By 
Qiine  it  is  now  siz-rpray  tell  me  what 
o'clock  b  it  by  yours."  The  corpo- 
i^al,  who  guessed  the  king^s  intentions, 
immediately  drawing  the  ball  from 
his  fob,  said,  ^^  Sire,  my  watch  neither 
points  to  five  nor  six  o'clock,  but  eve- 
ry moment  informs  me  that  I  must 
die  for  your  majesty." — "  Hold,  my 
friend,"  said  the  king,  who  was  mpch 
affected  by  the  speech,  "  take  this 
watch^  that  you  may  also  know  the 
hour  wl^en  you  die  for  me ;"  and  im- 
immedjately  he  put  into  his  hand  his 
own  watch  which  was  richly  set  with 
diamond^ 

THE  ANT. 
What  has  been  said  with  exaggera- 
tion of  the  European  ant,  is  however 
true,  if  asserted  of  those  of  the  tropic- 
al cHmates.  They  build  an  ant-hill 
with  great  contrivance  and  regularity, 
tbey-  lay  up  provisions,  and  as  they 
probayy  live  the  whole  year,  they 


snbmit  themselves  to  reguladons  en- 
tirely unknown  among  the'  ants  of 
Europe. 

Those  of-  Africa  are  of  three  kSnds, 
the  red,  the  green,  and  the  black;  the 
latter  are  above  an  inch  long,  and  ia 
every  respect  a  moat  formidable  in- 
sect.  Their  sting  produces  extreme 
pain,  and  their  depredations  are  some* 
times  extremely  destructive.  They, 
build  an  ant-hill  of  a  very  great  sise^ 
from  six  to  twelve  feet  high;  it  is 
made  of  viscous  clay,  and  tapers  into 
a  pyramidical  form.  Thi«  habitttion 
is  constructed  with  great  artifice ;  and 
the  cells  are  so  numerous  and  even, 
that  a  ho^y  comb  scarcely  exceeds 
them  in  number  and  regularity. 

The  inhabitants^  of  this  edifice  seem 
to  be  under  a  very  strict  regulation. 
At  the  slightest  warning  they  will 
sally  out  upon  whatever  dbturbsthem  ; 
and  if  tbey  have  time  to  arrest  their 
enemy,  he  is  sure  to  find  no  mercy* 
Sheep,  hens,  and  even  rats,  are  oftea 
destroyed  by  these  merciless  insects^ 
and  theu*  flesh  devoured  to  the  bone. 
No  anatomist  in  the  world  can  strip  a 
skeleton  so  completely  as  they ;  and 
no  animal,  how  strong  soever,  whea 
they  have  once  seised  upon  it,  has 
power  to  resist  them. 

It  often  happens  that  these  insects 
quit  their  retreat  in  a  body,  and  go  in 
quest  of  adventures.  ^^  During  my 
stay,"  says  Smith,  "  at  Cape  Corse 
Castle,  a  body  of  these  ants  came  to 
pay  us  a  visit  in  our  fortification.  Jt 
was  about  day-break  when  the  ad- 
vanced guard  of  this  famished  crew 
entered  the  chapel,  where  some  negro 
servants  were  asleep  upon  the  floor. 
The  men  were  quickly  alarmed  at  the 
invasion  of  this  unexpected  army,  and 
prepared,  as  well  as  they  could,  for  a 
defence.  While  the  foremost  batta- 
lion of  insects  had  already  taken  pos- 
session of  the  place,  the  rear-guard 
was  jQore  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
distant.  The  whole  ground  seemed 
alive^  and  crawling  with  unceasing 
destruction.  After  deliberating  a  few 
.noments  upoa  wl»y.^gj^  <to«e. 


nsCBUL'ANCOITS. 


115 


k  was  resolved  to  lay  a  large  train  of 
gunpowder  along  the  path  they  had 
taken :  by  this  means  milUoos  were 
MowD  to  pieces ;  and  the  rear-goard, 
perceiving  the  destruction  of  their 
leaders,  thought  proper  instantly  to 
return,  and  make  back  to  their  origin- 
al habitation.^ 

-  The  order  which  these  ants  ob- 
serve, seems  very  extraordinary ; 
whenever  they  sally  forth,  fifty  or 
atxty,  larger  than  the  rest  are  seen  to 
bead  the  band,  and  conduct  them  to 
their  destined  prey.  If  they  have  a 
ized  spot  where  their  prey  continues 
to  resort,  they  then  form  a  vaulted 
gallery,  which  is  sometimes  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  in  length ;  and  yat  they  will 
boUow  it  out  in  the  spac^  of  ten  or 
twelve  hours. 

But  far  exceeding  in  wisdom  and 
poBcy  the  Bee,  the  Ant,  or  the  Bea- 
ver, is  the  White  Ant  inhabitrag  the 
^ains  of  East-India,  Africa,  and 
Sooth-America.  The  animals  of  this 
extraordinary  community ,  coasist  of 
woriiing  insects  or  labourers,  about 
half  an  inch  long,  having  six  feet,  and 
BO  eyes;  fightmg  insects  or  soldiers, 
about  an  inch  long,  with  a  large  head, 
and  no  eyes;  and  the  perfect  male 
and  female  insect,  which  alone  are 
fivnished  with  wings.  They  build 
nyranidal  straetures,  ten  or  twelve 
itet  in  height,  and  divided  into  appro- 
priate apartments.  These  are  so 
firmly  cemented  together,  that  they 
will  easily  bear  the  waght  of  four  or 
ive  oMn  to  stand  upon  them ;  atad  in 
the  vast  plains  of  Senegal,  they  appear 
like  the  hnts  of  the  natives. 

GoUsmitJL 


THE  CREWL£SS  BARK. 

^  About  sixty  years  ago,  the  inhab- 
fcants  of  the  island  of  Rhode-Island, 
had  their  attention  attracted  by  the 
appearance  of  a  square-rigged  vessel, 
tinder  fall  sail,  coming  in  from  sea, 
from  a  south-easterly  direction,  with 
Ae  apparent  intention  of  putting  into 
Nara^uiset  Bay.  The  vessel  was  seen 


early  in  the  morning,  at  a  great  dis- 
tance. As  she.  came  near  the  island, 
about  II,  A.  H.  a  number  of  the  in- 
habitants collected  on  the  shore  to  as- 
certain her  name  and  character.  But 
instead  of  making  good  harbour,  the 
vessel  came  under  ^11  sail  directly  on 
shore.  No  persons  were  seen  on  deck, 
nor  had  any  persons,  from  the  time 
the  vessel  hove  in  sight,  been  seen  to 
leave  her.  Some  of  the  inhabitants 
from  the  shore  went  immediately  on 
board;  when,  to  their  great  surprise 
and  astonishment,  they  found  a  tea- 
kettle ftver  the  fire  in  the  cabin,  the 
fire  burning,  the  table  set  for  break- 
fast, as  if  for  a  number  of  hands,  and 
yet  not  one  of  the  crew  on  board ;  nor 
was  one  soul  of  them  ever  after  heard 
of.  No  living  creature  was  found  in 
the  vessel,  except  a  shit  and  her  litter 
of  puppies.  The  boat  of  the  vessel 
was  mis^ng.  The  truth  of  the  above 
story  cannot  with  propriety  be  doubt- 
ed. The  writer  of  this  bad  his  in- 
formation from  a  gentleman  who  had 
the  particulars  of  the  history  from  a 
Mr.  Lawton,  a  man  of  unquestionable 
veracity,  who  (being  then  a  boy)  saw 
the  vessel  come  in,  and  went  on  board 
of  her.  Mr.  Lawton  lives  on  the 
island.  Other  persons  also  testify  the 
same  thing.  The  place,  moreover, 
whete  the  vessel  was  run  aground,  has 
from  this  circumstance  ever  since 
been  called  The  Wreck.  The  vessel 
belonged  to  owners  in  Newport.  Pa- 
pers and  writings  were  found  in  regu- 
lar order.^ 

NeuhBrumwkk  Times. 

SINKING  OF  A  MOCNTAIN. 
A  high  ridge  of  mountains  on ,|he 
Moselle,  called  the  Sieben  Uhren 
Berg,  has  been  observed  for  some 
years  past  jo  have  in  it  very  lai^e 
clefts,  which,  for  the  last  ^\t  years, 
ml^asured  above  a  foot  in  breadth; 
thus  exciting  in  the  inhabitants  of  the 
adjacent  banks  no  unreasonable  ap- 
prehension of  an  approaching  fall  of 
part  of  the  mountain.  This  has  now 
taken  plaee.    On  theTih  of  iuly>  i» 

Jigitized  by  VjOOQIC 


liG 


MISCILCAMEOOS* 


the  evening,  earth  and  irtones  wete 
seen  rolling  down  from  the  summit, 
which  continued  increasing  in  quantity 
till  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  when 
a  whole  mass  of  rock  came  loose,  and 
fell  with  such  violence  into  the  McMelle, 
that  it  forced  the  water  out  of  its  chan- 
nel, overflowed  the  opposite  bank  to 
some  distance,  and  drifted  away  the 
vessels  lying  at  Bruttig.     The  dam- 
age done  is  incalculable;  it  appears 
that  about  forty  vineyards  have  been 
precipitated  with  the  rixk  into  the 
river.     The  mountain  on  the  opposite 
^de,  called  the  Kessel,likewise  threal- 
ens  to  fall.     As  thb  mountain  is  rent 
and  torn  with  frightful  clefts,  as  well 
at  the  top  as  in  the  middle  and  bwer 
parts,  and  the  front  part  had  sunk  thre^ 
feet  on  the  morning  of  the  8th,  and 
large  masses  continually  rolled  down, 
,  it  is  to  be  feared  that  the  whole  enor- 
mous body  will  fall  into  the  Moselle 
and  fill  up  the  greater  part  of  the  chan- 
nel, which  would  make  the  river  over- 
flow its  hanks,  and  cause  the  most 
dreadful  ravages.*— Lon.  Times. 

For  ths  Masonic  Rboistsr. 
THE  BULLrBAIT. 

I  would  not  enter  on  mv  list  of  friendi, 
Though  grac'd  with  poUsfa'd  maDuers  and 

0ne  sensCy 
Yet  waotingsensibility,  the  man       -^ 
Who  uefedlessly  sets  foot  upon  a  wonn. 

COWPSR. 

Having  some  business  the  other  day 
at  Witliamsburgh,  my  curiosity  led  me, 
for  the  first  time,  to  see  an  amugemerU 
that  ^*  princes  had  often  admired !"  The 
path  whkh  led  to  the  circus  was  over 
a  field,  through  which  crowds  of  rag- 
ged mnd  half-served  boys  were  making 
their  way  to  see  the  bull-bait.  1  had 
scarcely  arrived  within  sight  of  the 
circus,  when  my  ears  were  saluted 
with  the  shouting  of  the  spectators : 
and  ^  set  on  the  dogs,  set  on  the  dogs,'' 
was  reiterated  from  every  mouth.  My 
hieart  felt  sick  at  the  thought  of  view- 
ing such  a  scene,  and  I  walked  around 
the  place  undetermined  how  to  act, 
till  at  iength  curiosity  prevailed,  and 
I  entered.     It  presented  a  scene  of 


vice  I  had  never  seen  equalled. 
«  Good  Heavens;''  1  exclaimed,  as  I 
ascended  the  scaflcilding  erected  for  the 
spectators,  is  this  a  school  for  the  citi- 
zens of  New- York.  My  Wood  froze  ia 
my  vein9,and  i  could  scarcely  persuade 
myself  that  I  was  among  mortals  j 
it  seemed  better  to  coincide  with  sense 
descriptions  I  had  read  of  the  low^r 
regions.  The  howling  of  the  ^og^ 
the  roaring  of  the  bull,  the  blasphe- 
mous, imprecations  and  oaths  of  many 
of  the  muhitude,  might  have  been 
pleasing  to  the  ear  of  an  infernal  spirit,  * 
bat  must  have  grated  on  the  soul  of 
any  man  possessing  sensibility. 

The  demoralizing  mfluence  of  the 
practice  of  bull4>aiting,  1  think  can 
already  be  seen  in  the  yquth  who  fr^ 
quent  that  place  for  amusement.  Sucb 
scenes  are  a  disgrace  to  any  civilised 
na^n.  Their  uniform  tendency  is  to 
debase  the  mind,  to  harden  the  heart, 
and  render  man  ferocious  as  the  wiidl 
beast  of  the  forest :  and  I  h^tate  not 
to  say,  that  before  a  man  can  take 
pleasure  in  a  buU-bait,  he  must  be- 
come  a  savage.  EuoENitJS. 


Varieties  of  nature. 

The  physical  world  displays,  in  all 
its  parts,  the  wisdom  and  regard  of 
the  Supreme  Architect.     Around  ob^ 
above,  and  below  us,  we  see  the  stu- 
pendous operations  of  that  Being  who 
said,  "  let  there  be  light,  and  there 
was  light"    The  blue  concave  which 
envelopes  this  orb,  and  conceals  from 
us  the  splendid  and  awful  presence  of 
the  Deity,  was  framed  for  most  bene- 
volent  purposes ;  in  that  has  the  Al- 
mighty pointed  out  the  track  of  the 
glorious  orb  of  day,  whose  presence 
delights  the  face  of  nature,  and  gives 
to  man  the  grateful  vicissitudes  of  day 
and  night     When  the  sun  has  sunk 
beneath  the  western  horizon,  the  sil* 
ver  moon  (fit  emblem  of  the   mild 
majesty  of  its  Creator)  cheers  us  with 
her  smiles,  until  the  revolution  of  the 
earth  has   again  brought  to  us  the 
prime  soarce  of.li^t    .The  pheao* 

Digitized  by  VjDOQIC 


lUiCltLAlfBOm. 


117 


of  the  tides,  whkhare  connect- 
ed with  the  moon,  have  been  a  sub- 
ject for  the  exercise  of  the  immortal 
Newton,  whose  talents  seem  to  have 
been  the  peculiar  gift  of  the-  Deitv. 
The  contemplation  of  the  heavenly 
kniiea,  which  roll  with  so  much  ma- 
jesty, and  regularity  ihrough  the  im- 
mensity of  infinite  3{>ace,  is  another 
source  of  w<H)der.  Some  of  them  are 
opaque,  others,  whose  nalnre  is  as 
that  of  our  sun,  were  constructed  to 
cnlighttn  superior  worlds,  and  those 
worlds  must  be  inhabited.  The  Cre- 
atorhas  made  nothing  without  adjudg- 
ing it  aone  purpose ;  and  those  siins 
above  were  not  mftde  for  afibrdiitg  this 
cuth  a  dubious  light.  A  most  con- 
vincing foct  may  be  mentioned  as  a  fur- 
Aer  proof  of  the  plurality  of  worlds ; 
that  the  Qptic  tube  discovers  at  every 
gkuce  more  worlds  and  systems  in 
the  bhie  immense;  and  Huy|ens,  a 
■ame  recorded  in  the  temple  of  astro- 
nomic fame  with  the  most  brilliant 
characters,  has  carried  the  idea  so  far 
as  to  suppose  that  there  are  stars  so 
far  removed  from  us,  that  their  light 
has  not  travelled  down  to  us  since  the 
creation,  although  light  travels  at  the 
inconceivable  rapidity  of  twelve  mil- 
fions  of  miles  in  a  minute.  Marvel- 
lous are  thy  works,  thou  Parent  of  all 
food !  and  lovely  is  the  fair  creation 
^t  sprung  from  beneath  thy  plastic 
touch  !  'Tis  pleasing  to  observe  the 
regulations,  in  this  globe.  The  air, 
the  earth,  and  the  water,  have  each 
their  respective  inhabitants  assigned ; 
in  the  flood,  sport  the  finny  tribe,  from 
the  whale,  whose  hiige  bulk  makes 
ocean  groan,  to  the  animalcule,  whose 
world  is  an  atom.  In  the  air,  the  ea- 
gle monarch  of  birds,  and  the  mosque- 
toe  almost  invisible,  repose  with  equal 
security,  and  eat  from  the  \i9i\d  of 
Providence,  which  has  liberally  pro- 
vided for  tticm.  To  the  third,  an  in- 
habitant was  wanting;  and  the  Al- 
mighty created  man  after  his  own  im- 
age, and  infused  into  hb  nostrils  the 
breath  of  life :  to  him  has  he  assigned 
tte  tiommuul  o£  them,  and  air,  earth, 


and  water,  are  eq^y  sabsenrient  lo 
his  withes. 

RATIONAL  LOVE. 
We  all  know  the  power  of  beauty; 
but  to  render  it  permanent,  and  make 
human  life  more  happy  and  agreeable, 
it  must  have  the  beauties  of  the  mind 
annexed.  For,  as  Dr.  Blair  very  justly 
observes,  <<  Feetie  are  the  attractions 
of  the  fairest  form,  if  nothing  within 
corresponds  to  the  pleasinj^  appear- 
ance without.  Love  and  marriage 
are  two  words  much  spoken  of,  Init 
seldom  found  united.  To  be  happy 
in  the  choice  of  the  (air  one  we  ad- 
mire, is  to  cultivate  that  regard  we  ex- 
perience for  her,  into  lasting  esteem* 
The  connubial  state  was  certainly  de- 
signed to  heighten  the  joys,  and  to 
alleviate  the  miseries  of  mortality. 
To  cherish  and  admire  her,  who  came 
into  your  arms,  the  object  of  joy  and 
pleasure;  and  to  comibrt  the  same 
dear  object  of  your  afiections,  when 
the  douda  of  advershy  surround  her. 
Happy  within  yourself,  and  happy  in 
your  connections,  you  ought  to  fook 
up  to  the  author  of  all  good  gifts,  and 
to  give  him  praise.  In  the  liveliest 
hour  of  social  enjoyment."  What  avail 
all  the  pleasures  of  this  sublunary 
state,  if,  when  we  shift  the  flattering 
scene,  the  man  is  unhappy,  whei^ 
happiness  should  begin, a<  home/  An 
uninterrupted  interchange  of  mutual 
endearments,  amon^  those  of  the  fa- 
mily, imparts  more  solid  satisfaction, 
than  outward  show,  with  inward  un- 
easiness. Love  is  a  tender  and  deli- 
cate plant ;  it  must  be  guarded  from 
all  inclement  blasts,  or  it  will  droop 
its  head  and  die.  To  enliven  our 
hours,  to  pass  our  life  agreeable,  let 
us  enrich  our  mental  soil;  for  this, 
joined  with  love,  will  forever  adorn 
this  happy  state.  A  young  lady,  be- 
ing asked  her  opinion  of  love,  ^^nid, 
"  If  youth  and  beauty  ai^  the  objects 
of  your  regard,  hve,  founded  on  youth 
and  beauty,  cannot  pos^^ibly  endure 
longer  tl  an  youth  and  beauty  last. 
Love  should  be  sincere  and  generous, 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


118 


POBTICAL. 


tti  Heaven  first  inspifed  it,  and  court- 
ship void  of  mean  dissimulation.  But 
love,  at  this  time  of  day,  is  raising  the 
imagination  to  expectations  above  na- 
ture, and  iajtng  the  sure  foundation  of 
disappointment,  on  both  sides,  when 
Hymen  shifts  the  scene.''  Love  then, 
according  to  this  amiable  young  lady's 
opinion,  is  a  ptMsaion  founded  on  e»- 
ieem,  A  sincere  regard  for  the  object 
of  our  affections,  joined  with  a  love, 
•  the  most  pure,  rational,  and  dignified. 

A  PATHETIC  FRAGMENT. 

*•••••  In  the  sheltering  grave, 
the  wofraught  heart  will  be  at  ease : 
the  clouds  of  anguish  which  darken 
life's  short  day  pervade  not  that  still 
retreat.  The  poisonous  breath  of  ca- 
lumny, and  the  invenomed  tongue  of 
envy,  here  lose  their  corroding  influ- 
ence. The  sympathetic  mind,  ago- 
sized  by  distress^  unable  to  support 
the  storm  of  ill-fortune,  sinks  calmly 
into  the  embrace  of  death,  into  the 
placid  enjoyment  of  uninterrupted 
tranquillity.  Oppressed  virtue  finds 
a  secure  asylum  from  overbearing 
greatness ;  and  the  upbraiding  charity 
of  proud  opulence  is  no  longer  painful 
to  its  object.  The  distinctions  in  so- 
ciety, which  consign  merit  to  oblivion, 
i^d  raise  the  worthless  from  the  dust, 
are  here  forgotten.  Unfeeling  pride 
b  disrobed  of  its  splendid  covering, 
and  the  fjLrgeoQs  mantle  is  torn  from 
the  shoyid^rs  of  the  undeserving. 
Humble  worth  ceases  to  kneel  sup- 
pliant at  the  feet  of  afl9uence,  the 
torn  offspring  of  poverty  fails  to  en- 
treat from  avarice  the  stinted  boon. 
The  victim  of  malevolence,  who  es- 
says in  vain,  to  parry  the  thrusts  of 
unmerited  obloquy,  glad  that  in  death 
the  dagger  of  contumely  wounds  not, 
welcomes  with  joyous  aspect  the  ck)s- 
ing  period. 

DECENCY  IN  DRESS; 
Women  should  not  oonfine  their  at- 
tention to  dress  to  their  public  appear- 
ance.   They  should  accustom  them- 


selves to  an  habitual  neatness,  so  that 
in  the  most  careless  undress,  in  their 
mdst  unguarded  hours,  they  may  have 
no  reason  to  be  ashamed  of  their  ap- 
pearance. They  will  not  easily  be- 
lieve how  much  men  consider  their 
dress  as  expressive  of  their  characters ; 
vanity,  levity,  slovenliness,  folly,  ap- 
pear through  it..  An  elegant  simpli- 
city is  an  equal  proof  of  taste,  and  of 
delicacy. 


POETICAL. 

Fob  the  Masonic  Rcgistkr. 

IRE  WANDERER. 

Sabbath,  Jt7Lr>  1819. 
How  blest  tlie  return  of  thb  heait-cliear- 
ing  morning, 
When  snmnier's  bright   smile   spreads 
over  the  pfaio  ;.- 
How  sweet  to  arise  as  the  Sabbath  is  dawn- 
ing, 
And  hear  the  birds  carol  their  gay  song 
again. 

In  fancy  I  rove  to  the  home  I've  forsaken* 
.  Where  the  friends  of  my  youth  receive 

roe  with  loy ; 
While  my  oold  languid  heart  with  new 

hopies  awaken, 
0/ pleasing  contentmant,  unmixed  with 

alloy. 

Bat  aroused  from  my  dream  by  unlund  re- 
collection, 
These  landscapes  of  pleasure  recede  fn>iii 
my  view ;  • 

And  fancy's  frail  cord,  that  was  wove  by 
affection. 
By  the  strong  hand  of  fate  is  broken  ia 
two. 

But  why  should  I  strike  on  the  wild  notes 
of  sorrow, 
Since  immortal  life  has  been  purcbas'd 
for  man  ? 
The  harp  of  the  Psalmist  my  heart  fftin 
would  borrow, 
«And  strike  to  the  numbers  of  Edea 
again/' 

Though  we  should  be  severed  by  the  waves 
of the  ocean, 
The  *"  Day  Star"  of  peace  shall  enlight- 
en  our  way ; 
And  the  morn  ot  each  Sabbath  wall  haul 
with  devotion, 
As  the  tumults  of  life  with  the  night  rolls 

Jigitized  by  VjOOQIC 


FQBTICAL. 


119 


0  then  let  iu  seek  for  a  mantton  in  baeven, 

Wbere  riven  of  pleasure  forever  shall 

iiow: 

Tbe  bright  crown  of  triompb  to  uf  shall  be 

given, 

ff  we  bread  in  tlie  paths  of  religion  below. 

Oar  moflttent  of  life  will  shortly  be  o'er, 
We*re  hastening  down  to  death's  silent 
shade, 
Let  ti9  strive  then  to  meet  on  that  happy 
shore, 
In  tbe  white  (lowing  robes  of  redemption 
anraiy'd. 

EUGXKIDS. 


Foil  TB£  Masonic  Rkoistxbu 
ODE  TO  MELAxNCHOyr. 
Melancfaolyf  mournful  maid ! 
Seeker  of  the  silent  shade, 
Foe  to  empty  noise  and  strife, 
Lever  of  a  lonely  life ; 
Come,  lov'd  nymph,  with  me  to  dwell 
lo  dreary  waste,  or  midnight  cell ! 
Come  to  one  who  courts  thy  charmsy 
Equal  foe  to  vain  alarms. 
Ever  welcome  here  to  rest, 
Weep  recofflbent  on  my  breast ; 
Wbere  indulg'd,  and  free  from  fear. 
Discontent,  and  deep  despair, 
Companions  of  the  silent  teai^ 
AH  await  thy  coming  here. 
We'll  attena  thy  moonlight  walks. 
Where  the  pensive  spectre  stalks ; 
O'er  the  mansions  oT  the  dead, 
Wbere  ambition  droops  her  head ; 
Throogh  rows  of  elms,  or  ancient  oaks 
Wbere  the  ominous  raven  croaks, 
Ormoomful  nightingale  complains 
To  shady  woods  and  silent  plains  ; 
la  the  peaceful,  gloomy  grove. 
Where  the  branches  gently  move. 
Or,  if  tempted  o'er  the  dew, 
Well  thy  lonely  steps  pursue, 
When  the  moon's  reflected  beam 
Silvers  o'er  the  sylvan  scene ; 
Whilst  the  grass-bom  insect  hop^ 
Feeding  on  the  peariy  drops  : 
And  the  dogs,  affrighted  howl. 
At  the  shrill,  foreboding  owl ; 
Then,  in  some  sequestcr'd  bow'r 
Rrtir'd,  eigoy  a  pensive  hour. 

A.  Bell. 


FoK  THE  Masonic  Register. 
THE  NEGRO'S  LAMENTATION. 
By  the  side  of  a  wide  spreading  stream, 

Beneath  the  broad  shade  of  a  tree, 
A  neero  was  heard  to  proclaim  ; 
A  nave,  in  the  land  of  the  free : 
Worn  down  by  hard  toils,  and  old  age» 
His  head  was. as  white  as  the  snow. 


Aad  the  ftraias  ndgfat  bam  nrited  millet 
While  he  told  the  sad  tale  of  hit  woe. 

Te  masters,  who  boast  of  the  hoard 

Of  your  gold,  and  your  ill-gotten  store  ; 
WJiile  yon  revel  and  laugh  round  your 
board, 

Ton  have  left  a  poor  wretoh  to  deplore : 
A  wretch  from  his  country  yoa've  torn. 

And  from  all  that  fond  nature  holds  dear; 
llie  object  of  hatred  and  sconr, 

Aiid  the  sut^t  of  sorrow  and  fear. 

Fair  commerce,  yoa  say,  shall  proclaim 

Your  name  and  your  wealth  o'er  the 
worid; 
And  with  pleasnre  you  see  on  the  stream, 

The  bark  with  her  topsails  unfuri'd. 
But  for  me,  when  across  the  broad  wave 

1  see  the  tall  vessel  eiplore, 
I  mourn  at  the  lot  of  a  slave. 

And  I  pine  for  my  own  naiive  shore. 

No  monarcbs,  nor  nobles,  you  say, 

Your  land  by  their  laws  shall  coniiney 
But  fair  liberty's  call  von 'II  obey, 

And  with  thotuancU  will  bleed  at  her 
shrine. 
But  can  liberty  reign  in  a  land 

Where  dwells  such  a  mortal  as  me ; 
Condemn *d  to  your  lash  and  command, 

And  a  Blare  Ib  tbe  <<  land  of  the  fi«e  r 
A.  F.  B. 


Foa  TBE  Masonic  Reoistsr. 

REFLECTIONS  ON  A  BULL-BAFT. 
And  can  it  be  that  man  has  sank  so  low 

As  to  delight  in  giving  useless  pain  ; 
Will  he  ne'er  listen  to  the  voice  of  woe, 

Nor  kind  compassion  melt  bis  soul  again  .^ 

Say,  can  Columbia's  sons  find  pleasure  hero. 

Where  mis'ry  and  destruction  spread  the 

feast? 

The  answer  sure  must  start  the  conscious 

tear. 

The  soul  of  man  can  sink  below  the  beastl 

Oh  strange  employment  for  a  noble  mind, 
Of  teaching  dogs  tbe  wondrous  arly  **  to 
fight!" 
To  close  the  heart  to  all  that  b  refined, 
And  bar  the  conscience  'gainst  the  beams 
of  light. 

But  why  should  my  resentment  rise  so  high, 
On  such  small  evils  fix  eternal  blarae  ;   - 

And  calmly  pass  those  mightier  bull -baits  by? 
For  Wars  are  bull  baits  of  a  nobler 


The  world's  extended  plain  the  circus,  where 
Nations  with  headlong  rage  to  combat 
rush; 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


120 


Poetical. 


Where  rbe  (he  howls  of  woe,  end  deep 
despair, 
Till  deaib  and  darkness  the  wild  tumult 
hush. 

The  price  for  which  these  combatants  en- 

Is  but  a  "  silver  collar"  at  the  last,     ^ 
Witness  his  iate*  who  fought  with  fiercest 

rage, 
And  gaind  the  priae  of  fame  which  chain'd 
him  fast.  Asoa. 

*Bant^parte. 


For  Tan  Masohic  Hjcgister. 


dines  addressed  to  Miss  H — ^M — B^*— , 
of  this  city. 

Fair  blooms  thy  gav  and  youthful  charms, 

Each  sorrow  to  oeguile, 
But  all,  there's  nought  the  bosom  warms, 

Liice  triendship's  cheering  smile. 

Tbouj^b  thou  wert  fairer  than  the  rose, 

9'he  rose  must  die  away  ; 
Tef  virtue's  plant  new  beauty  shows, 

With  evi-y  op'ning  day. 

Let  other's  rush  to  Hymen's  bow>, 

Aod  clasp  an  empty  vine  ; 
111  be  content,  when  comes  that  hour ; 

That  I  shall  call  thee  mine. 

Tljen  vainly  adverse  storms  will  blow, 

O.i  inp  misturtune's  guest, 
Thy  s.:»ifc  would  calm  the  tempest,  so* 
1  iiat  I  should  stiti  be  blest. 

Then  (oil  itic  il  I  may  obtain, 
'  'JHy  Irieridsliip  and  esteem  ; 
Bid  hope  and  joy  revive  a^ain, 
And  peace  once  more  shall  beam. 

B.  B. 


'  Fob  the  Masonic  Register. 

TO  MISS  F A , 

OF  Kew-Lokdom. 

Swe^t  is  the  dawn  of  rising  day, 
Wlien  the  glad  heart,  refresb'd  aod  gay, 

IkatH  with,  the  pulse  of  joy; 
But  sweeter  siill  the  plndsinjg;  smile, 
Of  love  and  trieudship  free  &om  gidle, 

W  hU:h  time  can  ne'er  destroy. 

Sweet  is  the  hour  of  silent  night, 

"When  the  soul  mounts  with*  calm  delight, 

Beyond  the  bounds  of  tine ; 
Bui  aa,  it  .^'er  can  give  that  bliss,  , 
As  comei>  from  sotit  affection's  kisS| 

When  genial  hearts  eatwioe. 


Each  flowV  in^Qut  thee  droopa  awav, 
Aud  pleasures  sink  in  swift  decay. 

And  clouds  the  sky  o'ereast ; 
But  let  me  clasp  tbee  to  my  breast. 
And  then  I  am  supremely  blest. 

And  eveiy  storm  is  pest.^  W.  H. 

A  PERFECT  ARTIST. 

The  human  race  a  thousand  varioos  ways 
Pursue  the  road  to  happiness  aud  praise ; 
Fancies  so  singular  inspire  each  soul. 
Scarce  would  you  think  one  artist  made  the 

whole. 
The  flattest  dunce  some  humour  camiot 

hide 
Which  marks  him  out  from  aU  the  world 

beside: 
For  In  th4|nind,  as  plainly  as  the  £ice, 
Features  peculiar  to  itselt  we  trace  ; 
Though  aU  in  many   points   resemblaooi 

claim. 
No  tingle  pair  are  perfectly  the  same. 

REFLECTIOff 

BT  A' PERSON   UC   HIS    SIXTUETa  TSAR. 

Plac'd  on  the  world's  distracted  stage. 
And  forc'd  to  act  a  Joyless  part, 

Why  should  1  shrink  at  creeping  age, 
Which  warns  me  friendly  to  depart  f 

Why  do  I  rather  not  rejoice, 
That  I  my  hapless  course  hare  ran  ^ 

And  rul'd  by  wisdom's  Heavenly  voice, 
Make  my  last  exit  like  a  man. 

Fierce,  tho*  aflliction's  billows  roll. 
And  deep  distress  deforms  the  scene ; 

If  innocence  defonh  the  soul. 
Vain  is  thehr  rage,  the  tttmuH  vain. 

Serene  she  smiles,  yet  smfliog  sighs, 
To  quirthis  darksome,  dull  abode, 

Wishing  to  win  her  native  sties, 
And  fin4  a  lasting  rest  in  God. 

Weari'd,  then  let  me  quit  the  strife, 
Kind  Heav'n  assent  and  set  me  free ! 

For  why  should  I  be  fond  of  life»  - 
When  life  itself  is  tir'd  of  me  I 


THE  WISH. 
Let  Qselesf  riches  ne'er  engross  my  eare, 
The  bane  of  piety,  the  miser's  pray V  j 
Yet  let  my  purse  the  mod'rate  store  contaMt 
To  satisfy  my  wants,  and  ease  my  pain ; 
And  when  the  needy  at  my  threshold  stand» 
To  soothe  their  caret,  and  fill  the  ciariag 
hand. 


HOrr  &  BOLMORE,  PRINTERS, 
70^ .^ 

Digitizecf 


IBM 


AMERICAN  MASONIC  REGISTER, 

AND 

Ladies'  and^Gentlemen^s  Magazine. 


BY  LUTHER  PRATT, 


WUso  stoppetk  hk  ean at  the  cry  of  the  poor,  he  also  shall  cfy  himself;  but  shall  not 

be  heard. 
The  rich  and  the  poor  meet  together ;  the  Lord  is  the  maker  of  them  all. 

SoLovoir. 

[No.  IV.]  FOR  DECEMBER,  A.  D.  1 820.  A.  L.  5820.         [Vol.  I.] 


MASONIC. 

cnciiosnr     op     constituting     a 

LODGE,  AND    INSTALLING     ITS   OF- 
nCERS. 

(Concluded  from  page  87.) 

CHARGES. 

to  THK  SENIOR  WARDEN. 

Brother j 

You  are  appointed  senior  w^den 
of  this  new  lodge,  and  I  now  invest 
jTou  with  the  ensign  of  your  office. 

Tliis  LEVEL  demonstrates  the  equal- 
ity of  man,  that  we  all  descended  from 
the  same  common  parent,  and  partake 
of  the  same  nature ;  and  though,  to 
pf eserve  subordination,  certain  dbtinc- 
tioos  are  necessary,  no  elevation  in 
life,  should  cause  us  to  forget  that  we 
are  brethren,  and  that  the  most  indi- 
gent man  on  earth,  is  equally  entitled 
to  our  regard,  with  the  monarch  on 
tis  throne,  provided  he  be  equally 
vfatuous.  It  also  teaches,  that  death, 
the  GRAND  LEVELLER  of  human  great- 
ness, will  reduce  us  to  the  same  state. 

Yoor  regular  attendance  at  every 
communication,  b  highly  necessary. 
In  the  master's  presence,  you  are  to 
mhi  him  in  the  government  of  the 
lodge,  and  in  his  a^nce,  you  are  to 


take  the  goverpmeut  upon  yourself. 
May  you  be  i^abled  to  perform  the 
duties  of  this  important  office  with 
fidelity,  and  become  a  pillar  of  strength 
to  the  lodge.    Look  well  to  the  west«> 

TO  THE  JUNIOR  WARDKN. 

Brother  — , 

You  are  appointed  junior  warden 
of  thb  new  lodge,  and  I  now  invest 
you  with  the  badge  of  your  office. 

The  PLUMB  admonishes  us  to  act 
with  uprightness  in  whatever  stations 
we  may  t^  placed,  to  hold  the  scale 
of  justice  in  equal  poise,  to  observe  a 
just  medium  between  pleasure  and  in- 
temperance, and  to  cause  our  passions 
and  prejudices  to  coincide  with  tlie 
line  of  our  duty. 

To  you,  wkh  such  assi^ance  as  is 
necessar}',  is  entrusted  the  examina- 
tion of  visiting  brethren,  and  the  re- 
ception of  candidate^.  The  lodge  is 
committed  to  your  care  during  the 
hours  of  refreshment ;  it  is  therefore 
of  the  highest  importance,  that  you 
should  not  only  be  temperate  and  dis- 
creet yourself,  but  use  every  precmi- 
tion  that  none  of  the  craft  convert  the 
pur{)oses  of  refreshment  into  intem- 
perance. 

In  the  ijpaence  of  the  master  and 

Q  Digitized  by  Google 


122 


(SEBSMONT  OP  CONSTiTUTION  AND  CONSBOUkTUflf. 


senior  warden,  you  are  to  taketbe 
chair. 

^  our  punctual  attendaiice  is  abso- 
lutely necessary,  and  you  will  un- 
doubtedly faithfully  execute  the  duties 
of  your  office.     Look  well  to  the 


SOUTH. 


TO  THX  SICRBTAET. 


Brother  — , 

You  are  now  invested  with  the 
badge  of  your  officeof  secretary.  It 
is  your  dirty  to  keep  fair,  regular,  and 
faithful  records  of  such  transactions 
of  the  lodge  as  are  suitable  to  be  com- 
mitted to  writing,  to  receive  all  monies 
due  the  lodge,  and  pay  them  over  to 
the  treasurer,  taking  his  receipt  for  the 
same,  and  always  having  your  books 
and  vouchers  ready  for  inspection. 

Your  love  of  masonry,  and  attach- 
ment to  this  lodge,  will  undoubtedly 
induce  you  to  a  faithful  discharge  of 
the  duties  of  your  office,  and  thereby 
merit  the  applause  of  your  brethren. 

TO  THS  TREASURER. 

Brother  — , 

I  now  invest  you  with  the  badge  of 
your  office,  as  treasurer  of  this  lodge. 
Your  duties  are  important,  and  I  have 
no  doubt  you  will  fulfil  them  with 
honour  to  yourself,  and  to  the  satis- 
faction of  your  brethren.  You  are  to 
receive  all  monies  from  the  hands  of 
the  secretary,  make  regular  entries  of 
the  same,  and  pav  therb  out  by  order 
of  the  worshipftii  master,  with  the 
consent  of  the  brethren,  always  keep- 
ing your  books  ready  for  inspection. 

TO  THE  SENIOR  AND  JUNIOR  DEACONS. 

Brothers ,  and , 

I  invest  you  with  these  columns, 
as  badges  of  your  office,  trusting  in 
your  yigiience,  and  attention,  in  the 
performance  of  your  respective  duties. 
You  are  to  attend  on  the  master  and 
wardens,  and  to  act  as  their  proxies  in 
llie  active  duties  of  the  lodge.  You 
are  to  receive  all  candidates,  and  to 
introduce  and  accommodate  all  visit- 
ing brethren.  Your  regular  attend- 
mice  on  the  lodge  will  be  allarticular 


duty,  which  your  attachment  to  the 
order  will  undoubtedly  induct  you 
cheerfully  to  perform. 

TO  Tm  STEWARDS. 

Brothers  — — ,  and , 

You  are  appointed  stewards  of  this 
lodge,  and  are  now  invested  with  th^ 
badges  of  your  office.  You  are  to  as- 
sist in  the  collection  of  dues  and  sub** 
scriptions,  to  see  that  the  tables  are 
suitably  iumished  at  refreshmentSy 
that  every  brother  is  prbperly  pro- 
vided for,  and  to  keep  an  accurate  ac- 
count of  the  expences  of  the  lodee* 
You  are  also  occasionally  to  assist  uie 
deacons,  and  other  officers,  in  the  per- 
formance of  their  respective  duties. 
Your  regular  and  early  attendance  on 
the  lodge,  will  be  the  surest  proof  of 
your  attachment  to  the  fraternity. 

TO  THE  TTI4:R« 

Brother , 

I  now  invest  you  with  the  badge  of 
your  office,  as  tyler  of  this  lodg^,  un- 
der a  confident  impression,  that  you 
will  faithfully  discharge  your  duty, 
for  the  safety  of  the  cViSt.  Your  con- 
stant attendance  upon  the  lodge,  can- 
not be  dispensed  with,  without  special 
permission. 

THANKS  OF  THE  MASTER  O^   THX 
NBW  LODOB, 

7b  the  grand  nuuter^  and  oiher  mem- 
bert  of  the  grand  lodge. 
Permit  me,  most  worshipful,  for 
myself,  and  in  behalf  of  the  brethren 
of  this  lodge,  to  tender  you,  and  our 
worshipful  brethren  of  the  grand  lodg^ 
in  general,  our  hearty  thanks  for  tfi^ 
honour  now  on  us  conferred ;  and  be 
assured,  it  shall  be  our  particular  care, 
to  cultivate  the  sublime  art,  and  to 
assiduously  perform  the  respective 
duties  we  owe  to  our  own  lodge,  and 
the  whole  Masonic  Family. 

Charge  of  the  grand  master,  to 
the  officers,  and  other  breth- 
ren of  the  nsw  lodge* 

«  Worshipful  Mastery 

«  The  gi'and  lodge  having  committed 
to  your  care  the  superintendence  and 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


OV  CmtlTITUTKW  AXB  COHSlCftATKMf. 


Ida 


of  the  bretbreD  wbo  are 
Id  compost  this  new  lodf^e,  yoa  cannot 
be  insensible  of  the  obNgatioos  which 
devolve  on  you,  as  their  head ;  nor  of 
fmr  responsibility  for  the  faithful  dis- 
charge <Kf  the  important  duties  annex- 
ed to  your  appomtment. 

^  Tlie  honour,  reputation^  and  use- 
iidneas  of  your  lodge,  will  materially 
depend  on  the  skill  and  assiduity  with 
which  you  manage  its  conoems ; 
while  the  happmess  of  its  members 
vill  be  generally  promoted,  in  pro> 
portioa  to  the  wtu  and  ability  with 
which  JOB  propagate  the  genuine 
pm^aples  of  our  iostilutioo. 

''For a  pattern  of  imitation, con- 
■der  the  great  luminary  of  nature, 
which^  rising  in  the  Eagt^ ,  regularly 
dURnes  light  and  lustre  to  all  within 
its  circle.    In  like  aumner  it  is  your 
worince  to  spread  and  communicate 
Ight  and  instruction  to  the  brethren  of 
your  lodge.     Forcibly  '  impress  upon 
them  the  dignity  and  high  importance 
af  Masoniy  ;  and  seriously  admonish 
ikem  never  to  disgrace  it.     Charge 
iiem  to  practise,  out  of  the  lodge, 
those  ditfies   which  th^  have  b^n 
Ittigbt  ui  it;  and  by  amiable,  dis- 
creet, and  virtuous  conduct,  to  con- 
vince mankind  of  the  goodness  of  the 
iastitQtioo ;  so  that  when  anv  one  is 
said^to  be  a  member  of  it,  the  world 
nay  know  tl^  be  is  one  to  whom  the 
hartbened  heart  may  pour  out  its  sor- 
rows; to  whom  distress  may  prefer 
Its  suit;  whose  hand  is   guided  by 
JBsdce,   and  his  heart  expanded  by 
benevolence.    In  short,  by  a  diligent 
observance  of  the   by-law»  of  your 
lodge,  the  constitutions  of  Masonry, 
and  above  all,  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
niiich  are  ^ven  as  a  rule  and  guide  to 
your  faith,  vou  will  be  enabled  to  ac- 
quit yoorself  with  honour  and  reputa- 
tion, and  lay  up  a  croum  ofrefoicingy 
which  shall  continue  when  time  shall 
be  no  more. 

*  Brother  Semor  and  Junior 
tfardenif 
^  Tom  mre  too  weU  acquainted  with 
die  p^sdfles  of  Masonry,  to  warrant 


any  distrust  that  you  will  he  Ibnnd 
wanting  in  the  discharge  of  your  re*  - 
spective  duties.  Suffice  it  to  mention^ 
that  what  you  have  seen  prmseworthy 
in  others,  you  should  carefully  imi-^ 
tate ;  and  what  in  them  may  have  ap- 
peaned  defective,  you  should  in  yoi^ 
selves  amend.  You  should  be  exam- 
pies  of  good  order  and  regularity ;  for 
It  is  only  by  a  due  regard  to  the  law* 
in  your  conduct,  that  you  can  expec| 
obedience  to  them  from  others.  Vou 
are  assiduously  to  assist  the  master  in 
the  dischajrge  of  his  trust :  diflusinff 
light,  and  imparting  knowledge,  to  all 
whom  he  shall  place  under  your  care. 
In  the  absence  of  the  master,  you  will 
succeed  to  higher  duties;  your  ac- 
quirements must  therefore  be  such,  as 
that  the  craft  may  never  suffer  for 
want  of  proper  instruction.  From  the 
spirit  which  you  have  hitherto  evin- 
ced, I  entertain  no  doubt  that  your  fu?* 
ture  conduct  will  be  such  as  to  merit 
the  applause  of  your  brethren,  and 
the  testimony  of  a  good  conscience. 

*<  Brethren  of Lodge^ 

**  Such  b  the  nature  ^  am  confti- 
tution,  that  as  some  must  of  necessity 
rule  and  teach,  so  others  must  of 
course  learn  to  submit  and.  obey.  Hu* 
mility  in  both  is  an  essential  duty. 
The  officers  who  are  appointed  to 
govern  your  lodge,  are  snfficieT|tly 
conversant  with  the  rules  of  propriety 
and  the  laws  of  the  institotion,  to  avoid 
exceeding  the  powers  with  which  they 
are  entrusted;  andyou  are  of  too  gen- 
erous dbpositions  to  envy  their  pre- 
ferment. 1  therefore  trust  that  you 
#111  have  but  one  aim,  to  please  each 
other,  and  unite  in  the  grand  design  of 
being  happy,  and  communicating  hap- 
piness. 

"  Finally,  ray  brethren,  as  this  a^ 
sociation  has  been  formed  and  perfect- 
ed in  so  nmch  unanimity  and  concord, 
in  which  we  greatly -rejoice,  so  may  it 
long  continue.  May  you  long  enjov 
every  satisfaction  and  delight,  which 
disinterested  friendship  can  afford* 
May  kindness  and  brothprly  aftrctton 
distinguish  your  conduct  as  men,  and 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


ia4 


CSEKMOmr  OF  CONSTITUTION  ANO   «0NS«CBlT10W. 


is  Masons.  Within  your  peaceful 
walls,  may  your  ckildren^s  children 
celebrate  with  joy  and  ^"titude  the 
transactions  of  this  aospicious  solemn 
nity.  And  may  the  ieneti  of  otn- pro- 
fession be  transmiued  through  your 
lodge,  pure  and  unimpaired,  from 
generation  to  generation." 

The  grand  marshal  then  proclaims 
the  new  lodge,  in  the  following  man- 
ner, VIZ. 

<<  In  the  name  of  the  most  worship- 
ful grand  lodge  of  the  state  of j  I 

proclaim  this  new  lodge,  by  the  nanie 
of lodge,  duly  constituted.*' 

This  proclamation  is  made  thrice, 
and  each  time  followed  with  a  flourish 
of  drums  or  trumpets. 

The  grand  chaplain  then  makes  the 
concluding  prayer,  which  ends  the 
public  ceremonies. 

The  grand  procession  is  then  form- 
ed in  the  same  order  as  before,  and 
returns  to  the  hall. 

The  grand  master,  deputy  grand 
master,  and  grand  wardens,  being 
seated,  td\  but  master  Masons  are 
earned  to  retire,  and  the  procession 
continues  round  the  hall,  and  upon 
passing  the  several  grand  officers,  pays 
them  due  homage,  by  the  usual  con- 
gratulations and  honours,  in  the  differ- 
ent degrees.  During  the  procession 
(which  passes  three  thnes  round  the 
lodge)  the  following  song  b  sung, 
which  concludes  the  ceremony  of  in- 
stallation. 

HAIL,  MASONRY  divine  t      . 
Glory  of  ages  shine  ', 

Long  may'st  thou  reign : 
Wherever  thy  lodges  stand. 
May  they  have  great  command. 
And  alwajrs  frace  the  land, 

ThoQ  Art  divine  1 

Great  iabries  still  arise. 
And  grace  the  aEore  skies ; 

Qreat  are  thy  schemes : 
Thy  noble  orders  are 
Matchless  beyond  compare; 
No  art  with  thee  can  share, 

Thou  Art  divine. 

Hiram,  the  architect, 
Did  all  the  craft  direct 
How  they  should  build ; 


SormoTn, great  WeVs  king, ')  ChgrUt 

Did  mighty  blessings  bring,  C  Tkm 

And  left  us  room  to  sing,     C  Tintft. 
Hail,  royal  Art !              J 

The  lodge  is  then  closed  wich  Ae 
usual  solemnities  in  thedMlerent  d^ 
grees  by  the  grand  master  and  fai» 
officers. 

This  is  the  usual  ceremony  obseir* 
ed  by  regular  masons  at  the  constitu- 
tion of  a  new  lodge,  which  the  grand 
master  may  abridge  or  extend  at  plea- 
sure; but  the  material  poiats  are  oa 
no  account  to  be  omitted.  The  same 
ceremony  and  charges  attend  every 
succeeding  loitaUatioo  of  new  offiK 
cers.* 


MASONIC  PRATER:    BT  DK  W. 
SMITa 

Father  of  light,  of  life,  and  of  love ! 
Supreme  Architect  and  Ruler  of  Hea^ 
ven  and  Earth  I  Infinitely  gloriout 
God — Thou,  at  the  beginning,  wiUing 
to  communicate  happiness,  and  to  es- 
tablish beauty,  ocder,  and  harmony^ 
didst,  from  the  womb  of  thine  owa 
awful  eternity,  give  birth  to  time  ; 
and,  commanding  the  jarring  elements 
of  matter  to  cease  their  strife,  didst 
marshal  them  into  an  universe  com- 
plete f  Then,  while  the  heavenly  hier- 
archies, with  voice  and  harp,  sung  the 
loud  anthem  of  joy,  thou  didst  crowa 
thy  glorious  work,  by  breathing  the 
breath  of  life  into  thine  own  image- 
Man  ! 

Be  thou  with  us  at  our  present  be- 
ginning, and  to  the  end.  In  thy  name 
we  assemble,  and  in  thy  name  we  de-^ 
sire  to  proceed  in  all  our  doings.  Let 
the  wisdom  of  thy  blessed  Son,  by 
the  grace  and  goodness  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  so  sulKlue  every  discordant 
passion  within  us,  so  harmonize  and 

*  Various  charges  have  beea  written  for 
this  occasion  ;  but  we  find  no^  more 
suitable,  or  more  eomprehensive,  than  that, 
contained  in  our  late  worthy,  and  much 
lamented  brother  Webb's  Monitor,  and 
have  taken  the  liberty  of  copying  it  verba.- 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


CBJIBMONT  AT  THS  OPENING  OP  A  BRIDOS. 


I2S 


enrich  our  hearts  with  a  portion  of 
thine  own  love  and  goodness,  that  the 
lodge  at  this  time  raay  be  a  sincere, 
though  humble  copy  of  that  order,  and 
beauty,  and  unity,  which  reign  forever 
before  thy  heavenly  throne,  r 

We  thankfully  acknowledge  that 
thou  hast  loved  us,  O  Lord  our  God, 
with  an  exceeding  great  and  eternal 
love ;  and  hast  chosen  us  out  of  every 
people  and  language.  Our  fathers 
trusted  in  thee,  and  were  not  ashamed 
— ^for  thou  didst  teach  them  the  sta- 
tutes of  life,  that  they  might  do  of  thy 
good  pleasure  with  a  perfect  and  wil- 
lii^  heart."^  As  thou  didst  unto  them, 
to  do  thou  unto  us ;  still  remembering 
thy  gracious  promise,  "  that  where 
two  or  three  are  inet  together  in  thy 
name,  thou  wilt  be  in  the  midst  of 
them." 

By  thus  seeking  and  loving  thee, 
and  by  lovii^  each  other  for  thy  sake, 
shall  thy  blessing  and  peace  be  upon 
OS  from  the  four  comers  of  the  earth. 
Thou  shalt  put  understanding  into  our 
hearts,  and  make  us  diligent  to  hear, 
to  teach,  and  to  do,  all  the  words  of 
thy  law  in  love — So  shall  we  be  built 
op  a  spiritual  lodge,  never  to  be  sha- 
ken :  but  cleaving  to  thy  great  name, 
and  united  to  thee  in  love,  and  praise, 
and  freedom  of  soul  forever  f 

Amen,  so  may  it  be,  for  the  sake  of 
Christ  oor  Saviour ! 


CEREMONY  AT  THE  OPENING  OF 
A  BRIDGE. 

>uring 
roces- 
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at  the 
grand 
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to  be 
mblic 
to  be 
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Idress 
ed  to 


They  then  march  over  the  bridge 
and  return  with  music.  The  procU- 
tnations  are  again  made.  After  which 
there  is  a  discharge  of  artillery.^ 

The  grand  lodge  then  returns  in 
procession,  and  is  closed  in  form. 


FORM  OF  RETURN 

frank  tubordinaU  lodges  to  the  grand  lodge. 


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Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


126 


9IUirD  LODOS  09  CONNXCTICtTT. 


THE  GRAND  LODGE  OF  CONNECT- 
ICUT, 

At  their  annual  communication, 
holden  in  New-Haven,  ia  May  last, 
elected  the  following  brethren,  to  the 
offices  annexed  to  their  respective 
names: 

M.  W.  Olivee  Wolcott,  grand 
master. 

R.  W.  Ltman  Law,  deputy  grand 
master. 

W.  Thomas  H.  Cushino,  senior 
grand  warden. 

W.  Ralph  I.  Inobbsoll,  junior 
grand  warden. 

W.  Hbnrt  Champion,  grand  trea- 
surer. 

VV.  William  W.  Jones,  grand  se- 
cretary. 

W.  Jeekmt  L.  Cross,  grand  lec- 
turer. 
The  grand  master  appointed 
W.  Thomas    K«    Brace,   senior 
grand  deacon. 

W.  Elisur  Goodrich,  junior  grand 
deacon. 

W.  and  Rev.  Msnzies  Ratner, 
grand  chaplain. 

It  ap])earsthat  this  grand  commu- 
nication was  attended  by  the  officers 
of  all  the  lodges  excepting  four,  under 
its  jurisdiction,  or  their  proxies. 

A  charter  was  granted  for  the  es- 
tablishment of  a  new  lodge  in  Bark- 
hamstead,  by  the  name  of  Northern 
Star  Lodge,  No.  58. 

A  charter  was  also  granted  for  the 
establishment  of  a  new  lodge  in  Suf- 
field,  by  the  name  of  Apolh  Lodges 
No.  59. 

A  petition  was  presented,  praying 
for  the  establishment  of  a  new  lodge  in 
Goshen;  and  another  praying  for  a 
new  lodge  in  Stafford,  both  of  which 
were  read,  and  continued  to  the  next 
grand  communication. 

A  number  of  petitions  of  a  local 
nature  were  presented,  and  properly 
disposed  of ;  and  after  rn  address  to 
the  throne  of  grace,  by  the  worshipful 
and  reverend  Menzies  Rayner,  the 
grand  lodge  was  closed,  in  due  and 
AMPLE  form,  and  adjourned  to  the 


next  anuual  grand  oommonicatiofi,  im 
be  holden  in  the  city  of  Hartford,  io 
May  next* 

MASONIC  iDimESS. 
,  The  following  Address,  was  deKv- 
oed  on  the  24th  of  July  fast,  at  Doyls- 
town,  Pennsylvania,  before  the  breth- 
ren of  Benevolent  Lodge,  No*  168, 
attended  by  a  number  of  visiting  bre- 
thren, and  a  large  cooc<Hine  of  other 
citizens. 

Bt  Brother  Lewis  Deftebach. 
ADDRESS. 
DearBrethren^ 

Friends  and  PeUom  Ciitxeme^ 
When  reflection  awakens  me  to  « 
sense  of  the  important  duty  which  de- 
volves upon  me  this  day,  when  I  bring 
to  mind  that  I  am  about  to  address  this 
assembly  on  so  momentous  an  occa- 
si(m  as  the  present,  when  I  view  my- 
self, and  feel  the  conscious  want  of 
ability,  I  am  ready  to  retire  fVom  the 
task  with  which  I  am  honoured.     BuC 
why  ?  Diffident  as  I  feel,  and  inferior 
as  I  know  my  abilities  to  do  justice  Io  ^ 
my  friends,  wad  to  myself,  yet  when  t" 
look  around  me,  and  on  the  one  hand 
find  myself  in  the  presence  of  men  '] 
connected  with  me  by  the  most  sacred  ] 
ties  that  can  bind  man  to  his  felloiT 
man ;  and  on  the  other  witness  an  a9» 
semblage  of  my  friends,  and  my  neigh-   ' 
hours,  J  feel  myself  doubly  strength-  ^ 
ened,  I  feel  myself  doubly  fortified. 

Did  1  possess  the  eloquence  of  a  ' 
Cicero,  or  the  oratorial  powers  of  a 
Demosthenes,  I  would  exhibit  to  thb  ^ 
assembly,  such  a  scene  as  would  in  a 
moment,  remove  every  unfavourable 
impression  they  may  entertain  of  our  ^ 
ancient    and    honourable    fraternity,  i 
Yes,  my  friends,  I  would  advance  such 
arguments  that  all  the  malice  of  the  i 
wicked  and  the  unbelieving,   wrould  ' 
appear  before  you  as  faint  and  itnbe-  ^ 
cile  as  the  midnight  taper,  compared- 
with  the  glowing  splendour  of  the  me-  i 
ridian  sun ;  but  aware  of  my  inability, 
I  crave,  and  an^cipate  your  indik- 

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MASOlflC  AM>RS8S. 


IV 


rse,  ivliife  I  oilhr  a  few  remarks  ob 
advantages  of  our  iostitution. 
You  are  well  aware,  that  repeatedly 
bas  It  been  urged,  that  the  erection  of 
lodges,  and  the  inculcation  of  the  prin- 
dpks  of  Maaov}',  are  not  only  hoa- 
tile  to  truth  and  justice^  but  opposite 
to  tile  welfare  and  harmony  of  society ; 
that  the  band  of  brothers,  who  occa- 
sionally meet,  meet  bat  to  revel  in 
intoxication  and  wine;  that  it  has  a 
tendency  to  pervert  morals,  distract 
&milies,  and  render  the  man  who  may 
embrace  it  an  abiect  wretch;  that  it 
does  not  hold  forth  any  inducement  tu 
an  honourable  Ceding  man,  to  unite 
with  many  others ;  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, is  calculated  seriously  to  destroy 
that  individual  who  may  consider  it 
his  imperious  duty  to  connect  himself 
,  with  the  fraternity.    Nay,  the  preju- 
(fices  and  unftivounible  impressions  ad- 
vanced do  not  stop  here.    There  are 
men  so  lost  to  sensibility,  as  to  argue, 
that  it  is  hostile  to  religion  and  the 
iscred  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ.     My 
dear  friends,  I  regret  extremely  being 
compelled  to  say,  that  this  argument 
b  too  frequently  advanced ;  that  men 
v^  weak  enough  to  advance  senti- 
aeats  so  opposite  to  an  institution,  the 
benefits,  advantages,  and  foundation 
of  which,  they  are  as  ignorant  as  the 
Mahometan  or  the  worshipper  of  Jug- 
i^aut.     It  Is  ungenerous;  it  is  un- 
gnteltd,  for  any  person  to  give  birtfi 
tosQch  erroneous  ideas.  As  well  may 
,    it  be  urged,  that  man  was  bom  for  no 
v»c  purpose,  as  that  Masonic  princi- 
ples are  in  o[^)ositjon  to  sacred  writ ; 
as  weU  may  you  say  that  this  building 
»  erected  of  cob-webs,  as  to  urge  that 
Masonry  is  hostile  to  the  sacred  man- 
dates of  the  Most  High;  as  well  may 
you  urge  that  this  arm  is  destitute  of 
feeling,  as  to  urge  that  Masonry  is  not 
^ded  to  benefit  and  enlighten  all 
™  may  embrace  it ;  Oh !  my  friends, 
^ifh  the  idea,  from  your  bosoms; 
^fwfc  at  ieast,  the  hope  that  it  is 
^1  grounded,  and  that  its  intentioas 
**«  objects  ane  pure,  though  it  pos 
"^9  Uke  all    institalions,  members 


destitute  of  a  luMHrlmfee  adequate  to 
appreciate  its  worth.  1^,  my  friendSi 
when  a  melancholy  gloom  hung  sus- 
pended over  the  world,  Masomy  anisei 
and  with  its  expanded  rays,  extended 
its  genial  beams,  and  lighted  to  life 
everlasting,  the  expiring  victim  of  de- 
luded egotism ;  when  o^ncholy  and 
doubt  prevailed.  Masonry  was  bom ; 
and  in  the  dark,  silent,  solitary  hour, 
wh^n  man  was  unacquainted  with  the 
true  and  living  God,  it  fired  the  torch 
that  directed  his  steps  to  that  path 
which  leads  to  die  mansion  of  eternal 
felicity. 

Religion,  my  friends,  is  the  founda- 
tion oi(  Masonry:  its  origin  may  be  da- 
ted with  the  commencement  of  the 
worid ;  its  pillars  are  rauTH,  CHAaiTTi 
JUSTICE,  and  paiENDSHip.  But  per- 
mit me  here  to'  present  you  a  compli- 
ment paid  the  fraternity  by  biotlier 
Summer : — 

^  Masonry  b  moral  Ught^  and  what- 
ever moment  the  first  gleam  of  good- 
ness brightened  in  the  heart  of  man, 
Masonry  was  bom.  Thus  remote,  aad 
thus  honourable,  is  the  origin  of  our 
institution.  Goodness  was  l^r  father, 
Chfrrity  her  mother,  and  her  study  is 
the  happiness  of  man.  Masonry  is 
both  a  science  and  an  art.  As  a  sci- 
ence she  studies  the  interest,  and 
searches  for  the  wants  of  suflering  hu- 
manity :  as  an  art,  she  cultivates  those 
interests,  and  relieves  those  wants, 
{*]  ven  in  the  dark^t  ages  of  antiquity, 
when  liteiature  was  a  strauger  to  the 
world,  aiKd  when  virtue  was  rather  a 
relic  of  pristine  ignorance  than  a  cul- 
tivated plant  in  the  terrestrial  garden. 
Masonry  disclosed  her  radiance,  in  the 
chambers  of  the  east,  and  beamed 
with  celestial  lustre  on  the  admiring 
world.  As  Masonry,  like  the  rising 
sun,  was  at  first  seen  illuminating  a 
complete  horizon,  so,  like  him,  she  is 
still  uiuversal  in  the  benign  emanation 
of  her  genial  beams.  Her  influence 
b  restricted  by  no  local  boundaries  of 
climate,  sect,  or  country.  By  the  sac- 
red inviolable  rigour  which  distinguish 
the  fraternity,  they  are  every  where 

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>28 


known  to  their  intelligent  and  discern- 
ii^  brethren.  Thus,  they  enioy  an 
universal  language,  and  thus  a  decided 
i^vantage  is  given  them  over  every 
other  society  that  has  studied  the  hap- 
piness of  man." 

The  advantages  and  benefits  are 
numerous  and  diversified;  so  great 
and  powerful  are  they,  that  every  man 
who  has  a  regard  for  justice,  and  for 
truth;  for  charity,  and  for  feeling, 
must  acknowledge  its  influence,  and 
confess  its  power.  The  Arab  of  the 
desert,  and  the  savage  of  the  wilder- 
ness, who  is  sensible  of  the  living  God, 
will  embrace  a  brother  Mason,  where- 
soever he  may  meet  him.  If  you  are 
a  M^n,  and  immured  within  the 
gloomy  confines  of  a  loathsome  dun- 
geon, should  Providence  direct  to  the. 
door  of  your  solitary  dwelling,  him 
whom  before  you  never  saw,  if  he  is 
a  brother,  that  which  would  distin- 
guish you  from  him  as  a  stranger,  will 
tonnect  you  as  masons;  the  manly 
hand  of  friendship,  and  brotherly  af- 
fection, will  be  immediately  extended, 
and  even  at  the  risk  of  life,  will  he  fly 
to  your  protection,  and  your  relief. 
,  Is  there  a  woman  present  who  is  a 
widow?  If  there  is,  permit  me  to  in- 
quire of  her  her  situation.  Is  she  pen- 
nyless ;  is  she  destitute ;  does  she  stand 
in  need  of  a  husband — a  protector? 
Oh,  that  she  were  the  widow  of  a 
Mason;  then  every  brother  who  wears 
that  badge  of  innocence,  would  be  a 
husband,  every  brother  who  is  clothed 
with  that  mantle  of  purity,  would  be 
'to  her  a  solace  in  the  hour  of  afllic- 
tion ;  a  companion  in  adversity ;  a  par- 
ticipator in  the  cares  and  perplexities 
of  this  nether  world,  and  a  foundation 
stone  whereon  she  might  erect  hopes 
which  would  defy  even  the  rude  hand 
of  time  itself! 

Is  there  present  an  orphan  child  ? 
If  there  is,  let  roe  inquire  its  situation  ? 
It  is  no  doubt  m  want  of  the  adminis- 
tering hand  of  a  kind,  indulgent,  and 
affectionate  father.  It  is  presumable, 
that  from  its  forlorn  situation,  it  is 
oompelled  to  buflet  the  rude  billows 


VASONIO  AftDKESS. 


of  the  world,  and  contend  with  the 
angry  and  conflicting:  passions  of  a 
careless,  unfeeling,  and  ungrateful  com- 
munity. If  that  orphan  was  the  child 
of  a  Mi^son,  how  altered  would  be  its 
prospects,  how  materially  diflerent  its 
views  of  affluence  and  contentment ; 
of  poverty  and  distress.  In  every  one, 
I  trust,  whom  I  address  by  the  appel- 
lation of  brother,  would  the  innocent 
little  urchin  find  a  father.  In  every  ^ 
one  present  who  possesses  the  small- 
est regard  for  the  honour,  welfan;,  and 
dignity  of  our  institution,  would  it  re- 
co^ize  a  protector.  Not  an  arm  would 
be  left  unstretched  that  could  guard  it 
against  the  rude  and  caUous  blasts  of 
an  ungrateful,  and  a  selfish  world ;  not 
an  obstacle  would  be  left  imsurmount- 
ed,  if  calculated  to  benefit  the  little 
innocent;  not  a  difficulty  would  be 
permitted  to  interrupt  its  youthful  sim- 
plicity; nor  would  an  exertion  be 
wanting  that  had  the  least  tendancy  to 
promote  its  interests,  or  to  advance  its 
welfare.  Oh,  fellow  citizens,  con- 
tracted are  your  views  of  Masonry, 
and  of  its  concomitants.  It  is  not  lim- 
ited to  a  village  or  a  city;  nor  is  it 
confined  to  a  state,  a  onion,  a  king- 
dom, or  an  empire ;  its  range  is  wide, 
and  expended  from  the  north  to  the 
south,  from  the  east  to  the  west ;  its 
walk  is  neither  circumscribed,  nor  its 
limits  prescribed ;  for  the  whde  habi- 
table globe  is  its  mansion.  Let  one 
brother  me^t  another  on  the  deserts  of 
Arabia,  an  early  hour  makes  them 
familiar.  Let  a  Mason,  in  the  dark 
solitary  hour  of  midnight,  approach 
the  threshold  of  another,  and  he  can 
readily  procure  admittance ;  he  is  im- 
mediately recognized.  When  care, 
perplexity,  and  misfortune  assails, 
one  finds  a  resting  place  on  the  bosom 
of  another.  If  in  want  of  food,  a  brcK 
ther,  if  truly  such,  will  not  withhhold 
it ;  if  raiment  is  necessary,  readily  will 
it  be  procured ;  ^'  Ask,  and  it  shall  be 
given  you ;  seek,  and  ye  shall  find : 
knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened  unto 
you,"  ought  to  be,  and  1  trust  ev^  ts^ 
the  motto  of  every  brother  Mason* 

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HAfONlC  ABDRStf. 


149 


Ycm  are  not  aware,  my  frieods,  of 
tiM  muneroiM  benefits  which  wait  upon 
Mascmry.  When  sickness  overtakes 
tti,  every  brother  is  a  physician ;  when 
poverty  encircles  us  in  her  icy  folds, 
sriief  presents  itself  in  the  shape  of  a 
brother ;  when  malice,  hatred,  perse- 
cotion,  and  the  great  host  of  fiend-like 
cvik  assail  us,  in  every  brother  we 
find  a  friend ;  one  who  will  array  him* 
self  against  oor  enemies,  and  fight  the 
battles  ^justice,  and  of  virtue.  When 
banger  preys  upon  us,  we  are  fed ; 
when  ivaked,  we  are  clothed  ;  and 
when  friendless  and  deserted,  we  are 
taken  in.  Oh,  enviable'  indeed,  is  the 
pare  and  noble  hearted  Mason.  He 
possesses  a  hope  which  extends  even 
beyond  the  grave ;  he  cherishes  a  cor* 
rect  and  consistent  view  of  religion, 

'*  Looks  thitragb  nature  im  to  Aature't  God, 
Hope  heart  moi  tbrougn,  nor  quits  him 
when  he  dies/' 

Under  views  of  this  description,  fel- 
low-citixens,  permit  me  to  exhort  you 
ta  be  cautious  when  you  judge,  least 
you  vourselves  be  iudged  ere  you  ex- 
pect it.  Be  careful  how  you  make  in- 
roads and  innovations,  by  giving  free- 
dom to  pictures  framed  only  in  the 
ibnciful  imagination,  and  reared  only 
in  the  hot-bed  of  prejudice.  Remem- 
ber the  extent  to  which  our  views  go  5 
rtoierober  that  religion  is  its  basis, 
and  that  the  evangelist  and  divine 
were  the  first  to  propagate  and  incul- 
cite  its  inestimable  privileges,  and 
sacred  principles;  remember  these 
tlnngs;  he  wise;  be  generous. 

But  further,  if  evidence  is  desira- 
ble or  wandng,  to  corroborate  what  I 
have  urged,  as  regards  its  general  be- 
Dtt^ence,  let  me  introduce  to  you  the 
foUowing  section  of  the  by-laws  of 
;       our  lodge. 

**  Ervery  widow,  or  child  of  a  de- 

cecsed  member,  sbaH  he  entitled  'to 

'       the  same  benefits  in  adversity,  that  the 

I       member,  if  living,  would  have  enjoy- 

'       ed;  and  if  the  funds  of  the  lodge  will 

tin  ktler  shall  be  educated  aad 


provided  with  a  profession  at  the  ei« 
pense  of  the  lodge.'* 

BHit  further  still,  my  friends,  let  wnt 
ask,  are  there  none  present,  who  are 
the  descendants  or  widows  of  Masons^ 
that  have  experienced  the  charitable 
dictater  and  principles,*  which  have 
for  ages,  so  peculiarly  characterized 
oar  fraternity  ?  If  there  are  none  now 
present,  there  aiey  be  before  toHDor* 
row's  sun  sinks  in  the  west,  and  with 
his  dying  beams  gilds  the  horiaoo 
round.  Yes,  ere  Aurora  ushers  in 
another  day,  the  veil  of  oblivion  may 
drop  from  its  suspension,  and  shroud 
beneath  her  sable  mantle,  the  heart  of 
many  a  generous,  many  a  faithful, 
feeling  brother.  And  is  it  not  presu- 
mable, that  among  the  number  who 
may  thus  early  become  tenants  of  the 
tomb,  there  may  be  some  who  will  be 
compelled  to  leave  behind  the  com- 
panion of  their  bosoms,  the  partner  of 
their  cares,  the  participator  of  their 
joys.  To  such  I  address  myself. — 
Pieced  in  this  disagreeable  dilemma, 
they  would  then,  and  then  only,  expe- 
rience the  benefits  and  advantages 
which  flow,  (pure  as  the  waters  of  the 
crystal  fountain,)  from  the  ordinary, 
essential,  and  salutary  provisions  of 
such  articles  as  the  one  just  mention- 
ed. Yes,  m  V  friends,  as  I  before  ob- 
served, the  charitable  hand  of  M asoo* 
ry  would  then  be  extended,  and  cheer 
the  drooping  spirits  of  the  afflicted^ 
and  the  disconsolate. 

Still  further  might  I  proceed  ^ 
stronger  proof  could  1  still  adduce  of 
the  true,  genuine  principles,  whidi 
ever  ought  to  actuate,  and  warm  the 
bosom,  and  prompt  to  exertion  the 
hand,  and  the  heart,  of  every  Mason. 
I  could  lay  before  you  numerous  ac* 
comits  of  persons,  who  reside  not  only 
in  the  city,  but  the  country,  that  are 
supported  by  the  fostering  hand  of 
Masonry:  whose  weekly,  nay  daily 
wants  are  supplied ;  who  are  hourly 
waited  upon  by  the  brother  of  the  de* 
parted  brother.  By  his  kind  atten- 
tions, aad  unremitting  exertions  to  do 
goody  the  thorny  piBow  is  lyadertd 

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130 


lUfONlC  A1H»UH« 


toft  as  down,  and  the  teir  of  nielaii- 
clboly  and  distress,  wiped  from  the  eye 
of  Diaiiy  a  disconsolate  widow,  many 
a  heart-broken  orphan. 

Can  it  be  possible  then^  that  under 
•uch  circumstances,  there  is  present 
one  individual  so  dead  to  feelmg,  so 
steeled  a^nst  truth  and  justice,  as  yet 
to  entertain  anv  prejudice  against  Ma- 
sonry.    Yes,  1  regret  to  sav,  there  are 
no  doubt  many,  who,  with  all  ^these 
evidences  before  them,  will  still  urge, 
diat  their  vieiys  of  the  order  are  cor- 
rect and  consistent.     Let  such  secrete 
themselves;  let  such  as  are  not  wil- 
ling to  rely  upon  what  I  have  urged, 
be  ezclud^  from  the  human  family  ; 
they  are  contaminating  weeds ;  bane- 
ful to  the  eye,  as  they  are  noxious  to 
the  touch  and  taste.     Plain  and  con- 
clusive as  must  appear  what  1  have 
submitted,  still,  I  fear,  there  are  those 
present  who  will  continue  to  cherish 
a  spirit  of  hostility,  unwarranted  by 
truth,  and  the  dictates  of  common 
justice.  How  oAen  have  my  ears  been 
assailed  by  the  heart  rending  language 
of  reproach  and  censure;  how  oAen 
have  I  heard  it  asserted  that  the  lodge 
of  this  village,  makes  it  a  general  and 
universal  practice  to  adjourn  from  its 
room  to  a  public  house,  (or  the  pur^ 
pose  of  revelling  in  liquor ;  and  that 
disorder  and  collusion  always  prevail. 
Nay,  I  have  heard  it  urged  from  the 
very  pulpit,  that  Masonry  was  detri- 
mental to  the  peace  and  welfare  of  so- 
ciety, inimical  to  religion ;  and  in  eve* 
ly  step  which  marks  its  course,  mili- 
tating against  the  saered  writings  !    If 
you  can  confide  in  what  1  say,  if  you 
can  place  credit  on  my  word,  if  you 
dare  venture  to  rely  on  ray  honour, 
believe  not  those  tales  of  the  wicked, 
the  ignorant,  and  the  malicious.  Like 
all  associated  bodies,  Masonry  u  lia- 
ble to  be  imposed  upon ;  and  many 
who  are  respectable  when  they  em- 
brace it,  become  profligate  and  vkious, 
and  are  rendered  objects  of  commis- 
aeration  and  scorn.     But  how  manv 
are  there  attached  even  to  the  church, 
who  are  as  destimte  of  a  Uving  God, 


as  the  Hhidoo :  yet,  is  it  conmbit 
justice  to  condemn  all  the  follower^ 
and  advocates  of  religion,  because  m 
few  unworthy  persons  have  received 
admission  into  the  sanctuary  of  holt- 
ness  and  virtue  ?   Is  it  not  oppressive^ 
therefore,  that  an  institution  so  an* 
cient  and    honourable  as    Masonry, 
should  be  so  cruelly  censured,  because 
half  a  doeen  unworthy  persons  are  al> 
tached  to  it  ?    Shall  we  alone  be  su^ 
ject  to  the  whim  and  caprice  of  a  pre- 
judiced world  ?    If  it  is  just,  let  it  be 
so ;  but  1  solemnly  declare,  that  it  is 
not  only  ungenerous,  but  untrue,  and 
for  the  truth  of  what  I  say,  I  appeal 
to  Him  who  ndeth  over  all ;  who  la 
aware  of  every  thoi^t,  and  familiar 
witli  every  act  and  deed.     Cheerfully 
would  I  here  conclude,  but  my  feelinfs 
will  not  permit.     There  is  yet  stron- 
ger proof  to^  be  adduced ;  there  is  yet 
more  powerful  evidence  to  be  laid  be- 
fore you.     A  nation's  father;  a  na^ 
tion's  greatest  pride  ;  the  saviour  of 
our  country.    Shall  I  forget  him  thus 
early  ?  Shall  I,  in  the  infancy  of  my 
years,  blot  from  the  book  of  leraem^ 
brance  the  name  of  the  immortaJ,  i^ 
lustrious  Washington  ?   No !  nevcar. 
He  who  suffered  for  many  a  long 
period,  the  privations  of  the  camp,  tlie 
fatigues  of  war,  and  braved  for  more 
than  eight  years  the  dangers  of  tke 
battle.      Oh  illustrious  diief;    hov 
pleasing  to  reflect  upon  thy  many  good 
works !  how  awfully  sublime  to  watek 
thy  majestic  eye  rolling  in  grandeur 
over  those  whom  thou  once  rallied 
round  the  standard  of  liberty  I     Loi^ 
will  thy  deeds  be  remembered,  lor 
they  are  registered  upon  the  hearts  of 
a  grateful  posterity:    as  thou  went 
<<  first  in  peace,  first  in  war,"  so  wik 
thou  continue  to  be  first  in  the  ^^  beauts 
of  thy  countrymen.''     Yet  this  man— - 
liiis  same  George  Washington,  who 
wove  the  laurel   wreath  of  victory, 
aud  won  for  the  western  world  an  im- 
perishable name,  and  an  inheritance^ 
was  a  Mason  J  yes,  he  was  entitled 
to    the  endearing    appellation    of  si 
broths.    And  of  such  n  eiae,  dare 

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MASOMIC  AimWBi. 


181 


foa  tttter  micilit  darogatorj  ?  When  a 
■lan  like  WashlnclOB  connects  him- 
self with  Masonry,  who  is  base 
enough  to  question  its  utility,  and  its 
advantages  ?  If  you  believe  me  not^ 
go,  my  friends,  and  kneel  upon  the 
coosecrated  mound  that  contains  his 
relics,  and  ask  of  him  whether  Ma- 
sonry is  detrimental  to  the  peace  and 
harmony  of  society,  and  inimical  to 
lelfgioa  and  the  commands  of  the 
Most  High.     But  further— 

Let  lis  take  a  retrospective  glance 
at  the  American  revolution ;  let  us 
pay  a  tribute  to  the  many,  who  during 
that  period,  achieved  so  many  glorious 
deeds.  Oh  !  I  trust,  my  prayers  for 
their  names  are  long  since  registered 
ki  Heaven !  Oh !  'twas  a  memorable 
epoch  !  I  reflect  on  it  but  with  delight ; 
I  read  of  it  but  with  transport ;  I  bear 
of  it,  and  it  awakens  my  soul  to  ec- 
stacy !  It  was  at  that  period  that  so- 
ciety was  robbed  of  one  of  its  brightest 
ornaments;  its  most  essential  mem- 
bers. The  remains  of  the  immortal 
W  A  KEEN  were  consigned  to  the  tomb  i 
Tes,  he  is  numbered  with  the  dead  ! 
Let  us  attempt  a  (ncture ;  Behold 
stretched  on  yonder  hillock  one  of 
the  worthiest  of  the  human  family. 
The  ftital  ball  has  pierced  his  tender 
ride.  Hark  ?  he  groans,  he  sighs  ! 
Hb  eyes  roll  awfully  terrific  around ; 
the  lids  decline ;  he  gazes  on  his  com- 
panions in  arms ;  he  is  unable  to  cheer 
them  in  the  last  eniring  moments  of 
life !  He  writhes !  ne  groans  again,  he 
dies  h  His  compatriots  shriek  at  the 
sad  reverse!  But  all  is  vain,  he  is 
•dead,  forever  lost  to  the  world,  for- 
ever lost  to  his  countiy!  But  mark 
yon  distracted  wife!  see  how  she 
raves  at  the  awful  news !  Like  a  shock 
of  electricity  it  darts  through  her  eve^ 
ly  vein ;  she  calls  on  his  name,  but  he 
ai»wers  not;  cold  and  inanimate  is 
that  frame  that  once  moved  in  all  the 
majesty  of  man :  insensible  to  touch 
the  hand  that  drew  from  the  scabbard 
the  avenging  sword  in  defence  of  a 
peoj^'s  freedom!  Oh  brave,  gene- 
rous, and Dobfe  Warren}  wodd  that 


the  spot  which  eontmns  diy  relks  ^ 
here;  freely  would  I  fall  prostrate  b^ 
its  side ;  kneel  upon  it,  and  with  t^ 
tears  of  genuine  affection  and  grati- 
tude, bedew  the  sacred  mound  !  Bat 
suffice  it  to  sav,  he  is  dead;  he  fell 
amidst  the  battles  of  his  country ! 

This  man  too,  who  rendered  such 
esseutial  services  to  his  countiy,  was  $, 
[  Mason — Yes,  Warren  was  a  Mason, 
whose  bosom  cherished  a  heart  that 
ever  beat  in  unison  with  the  dictates 
of  charity,  and  the  governing  princi- 
ples of  the  order.  And  is  no  respect, 
is  no  forbearance  to  be  anticipated  for 
a  man  so  noble,  so  amiable,  and  so 
virtuous ;  who  lived  and  died  in  the 
full  belief  of  the  utility  of  Masonry  ; 
a  man  who  while  living,  devoted  his 
every  leisure  hour  to  advance  its  uk^ 
terests,  and  promote  its  welfare  ? 

But  oh,  last,  though  not  least,  let 
me  bring  to  your  recollection,  the  in^ 
mortal  Feanklin.  He  is  also  an  in- 
habitant of  the  "  narrow  house,**  but 
his  services  and  his  precepts,  bloom, 
fresh  and  gay  as  ever.  He  also  was 
a  Mason — the  first  grand  master  the 
state  of  Pennsylvania  ever  had.  Is 
there  present  one  person  who  dare 
raise  a  single  objection  against  the 
general  moral  deportment,  and  con- 
sistent conduct  of  Benjamin  Frank- 
lin  ?  I  trust  not— -his  whole  earthly 
career  was  marked  by  one  general, 
one  correct  system  of  prudence,  sobri- 
ety, industry,  justice,  and  honesty.— 
And  are  the  ideas  which  he  entertain- 
ed of  Masonry  to  have  no  weight  ?  I 
trust  they  wiU,  and  reiving  on  your 
good  understandings,  I  leave  y  ju,  to 
ofier  a  few  remarks  to  my  brethren, 
more  immediately  connectjsd  with 
their  interests. 

You  are  the  members  of  one  of  the 
most  ancient  and  honourable  institu- 
tions existing  this  day  upon  the  face 
of  the  habi^ble  globe ;  you  are  the 
supporters  of  an  order  more  honoura- 
ble than  the  titles  which  kings,  lords, 
and  dukes  can  confer  upon  you.  Its 
advantages  are  numerous ;  its  benevo- 
lence without  limit^aad  Its  djEiim  to 

ligitized  by  VjOOQ  iC 


your  support  poverfiiL  It  is  needlfss 
to  recount  them :  io  my  preceding  re- 
marks, 1  endeavoured  to  do  tbem  all 
the  justice  oiy  feeble  abilities  would 
permit.  When  I  view  you,  clothed  Id 
those  garments  which  so  peculiarly 
distinguish  us,  and  portray  the  purit> 
of  our  order,  I  feel  a  conscious  glow 
of  satisfaction  at  my  relation  tu  you, 
dart  through  every  vein ;.  but  when  i 
perceive,  in  so  many  brethren,  locks, 
over  which  has  hastened  in  hurried 
confusion,  the  blast  of  many  a  wintry- 
day,  1  feel  a  great  degree  of  reluctance 
and  delicacy  in  addressing  them.  But 
why  ?  the  duty  which  I  aiu  attempting 
to  discharge,  was  by  the  request  of 
many.  Therefore,  let  me  intreat  you, 
not  to  conceive  it  arrogance  in  me,  if  1 
presume  to  trespass  upon  your  pa- 
tience, by  attempting  briefly  to  mark 
out  a  course  which  every  Mason  ought 
to  pursue,  while  a  resident  in  this  sub- 
lunary sphere  of  alfliction  and  distress. 
Permit  me  here  to  ofier  the  following 
selected  remarks  :  "  The  Christian 
Mason  is  taught  to  esteem  the  Arhf 
Great  I  Jght  in  the  golden  candlesticks, 
as  infinitely  superior  to  the  light  of 
nature,  reason,  and  philosophy,  united 
in  triple  ranks ;  superior  to  the  son  of 
genius,  or  the  morning  star  of  science. 
The  light  of  heaven  itself  his  enrap- 
tured spirit  hails,  and  faithful  to  the 
star  wnich  led  the  adoring  magi  to 
Bethlehem's  vale^  this  light  in  death 
shall  lead  the  sons  of  amity  and  peace ; 
the  friends  of  virtue  and  of  man,  to  the 
eternal  fountain  of  light  itself,  who 
alone  is  wortlw  of  the  morning  song : 
the  noontide  shoutings',  and  the  cease- 
less anthems  of  praise  from  all  his 
works.'* 

There  is,  or  ought  to  be  one  peculi- 
arly distinguishing  feature  in  the  char- 
acter of  every  Mason.  It  is  the  foun- 
dation stone  of  Masonry,  and  must 
every  remain  the  main  pillar  of  the 
order.  I  mean  that  charitable  and 
benevolent  feeling  which  one  member 
of  our  fraternity  ought  to  entertain  for 
another.  Iftberefore,  a  brother  knocks 
at  the  door  of  your  habitationj  even 


MASOXIC  AnOOKftS. 


at  the  aiidnight  boor,  oot  a  i 
heMtation  is  necessary  before  yms 
^ive  him  entrance;  if  a  brother  a|^ 
;)roach  your  threshold  uaked,  hesitate 
not  to  clothe  him ;  if  he  is  hungry,  can 
you  withhold  nourishment?  It  is  a 
ruling  pindple  ^^  that  you  do  as  you 
would  be  done  by,"  and  that  you  '^  will 
Jove  your  neighbour  as  yourself."  It  is 
however,  an  unfortunate  drcumstance, 
and  it  is  with  extreme  regret  I  men- 
tion it,  that  too  many  embrace  the 
dictates  of  the  order,  and  becone 
craftsmen  in  the  erection  of  the  same 
work,  solelv  from  selfish  views. ,  I  an 
aware  of  this,  for  I  have  bore  witness 
to  the  realization  of  my  remark,  in  too 
many  instances.  Despicable  and  con* 
tracted  indeed,  most  be  that  man, 
who  is  thus  lost  to  justice,  and  to  feel- 
ing ;  callous  to  principle  he,  who  would 
thus  imolate  his  all  at  the  altar  of  per- 
sonal feeling,  and  self-aggrandizement. 
I  Excuse  the  observation ;  you  are  aware 
of  its  correctness,  and  my  feelings  out- 
weigh every  other  consideration  ^  I 
cannot  withhold  what  1  conceive  ca^ 
culated  to  promote  the  interest  of  the 
order,  or  advance  the  wel^e  of  thi^ 
craft. 

It  is  an  invariable  rule  and  govern- 
ing principle  in  Masonry,  that  he  who 
enters  a  lodge  as  a  '^  Christian,  ncvef 
passes  into  deism,  nor  is  he  raised  bj 
in(ideUty ;  but  being  taught  to  regard 
the  first  great  light  of  the  Holy  Bible, 
as  the  most  precious  of  gifts,  he  finds 
himself  strengthened  in  faith  more  than 
assured  in  hope,  and  divinely  impelled 
to  abound  in  works  of  charity." 
,  Thus  you  perceive,  my  dear  breth- 
ren, that  upon  religion  is  erected  the 
glorious  temple  qf  our  hopes,  while 
charity  guards  the  door,  to  deny  ad* 
mittance  to  deism  and  avarice.  Is 
there  then  present,  a  single  Mason, 
who  would  withhold  theprayer  of  grat-^ 
itude  from  his  Heavenly  Father;  and 
in  the  hour  of  adversitv,  the  balm  bf 
consolation  from  his  amicted  brother  ? 
If  there  is,  let  his  name  be  registered, 
with  the  unworthy ;  Let  his  ingratitude 
be  recorded  on  the  heart  of  every  fg^^ 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


iiAtdNic  jam$M$fi. 


1S9 


-iigfeferykMdvA  Mower  id  tbe  wake 
of  religioa.  Is  there  one  present  who 
pirports  to  clHim  connection  with  our 
order,  and  who  wears  the  sacred  robe, 
tkit  couid  view  unmoved  the  tear  ol 
distress  marking  its  furrowed  courst^ 
down  the  cheek  of  the  discoosolare 
partner  of  a  deceased  brother?  If 
tlKre  by  let  hia  liide  his  head  where 
the  moHal  eye  cannot  ken  htm,  nor 
koman  discernaient  ascertain  his  place 
ofooBceaknenk 

He  who  connects  himself  with  Ma* 
soory,  c«Hmects  himself  with  all  ma»- 
kliid.  I  mean  thus  far;  that  when  he 
enhracesy  and  practices  the  golden 
precepts  of  the  orderi  he  is  recognici^d 
aad  kjM>wa  as  such,  at  the  eastern  and 
the  weatern,  the  northern  and  the 
southern  boundaries  of  the  world. — 
And  when  thus  bound,  and  that  too, 
by  the  strongest  ties  which  can  possi- 
bly bind  man  to  man,  lie  ought  to  im- 
bibe such  principles,  maxims,  and 
governing  rules,  as  are  wellcalcola- 
ted,  Boc  oaly  to  promote  his  own  in- 
terest, bot  to  advance  the  interest  of 
every  brother. 

.  It  n  your  duty,  then,  my  brethren, 
carefally  to  guard  yourselves  against 
any  measure,  having  for  its  object  the 
infliction  of  an  injury  upon  a  brother ; 
it  tt  your  duty  to  watch  over  his  wel- 
fare as  over  your  own ;  to  aid  him  in 
the  hour  of  peril,  and  of  danger ;  to 
aReviate  his  distresses  wheresoever 
yon  may  meet  him ;  be  a  physician 
to  him  in  sickness  j  a  partner  in  care, 
a  solace  in  adversity,  and  a  comforter 
in  the  last  expiring  moments  of  ago- 
nixing  woe,  and  ms  terrestrial  resi- 
dence; to  strew  his  paths  with  the 
odoriferous  flowers  of  consolation,  and 
to  extend  and  administer  the  balsam 
of  eternal  life,  »  an  imperious  duty  in- 
combent  upon  every  brother,  who  by 
the  sacred  principles  we  cherish,  is 
taog^  tofetl  <<  another's  woe.''  Re- 
flect for  a  moment,  ray  brethren, 
upoo  the  pleasant  sensations  experi- 
enced by  him,  who  when  he  retires  to 
his  pillow,  tt  accompanied  by  the  con- 
soli^  hope,  that  ttie  past  day  has 


been  spent  in  the  exercises  of  a  voca- 
rion,  which  has  tended  to  benefit  a 
ff*llow-creature.  He  sinks  into  the 
avms  of  Morpheus,  with  sensations  in* 
expressibly  ddigbtliil,  and  retires  to 
repose,  with  the  conscious  satisfaction 
of  having  devoted  his  last  hour  to  the 
welfare,  advantage,  and  relief,  of  «t 
least  one  of  the  great  human  familv. 
Oh  delightful  sensation  !  oh  extaoc 
teeling !  how  enviable  is  he  who  can 
thus  close  his  earthly  chreer,  and  re- 
posing on  the  ^*  bosom  of  his  fathtr, 
and  his  God,''  exchange^this  trai»ito- 
ry  sphere  of  mortification  and  disap- 
pointment, for  ^  another  and  a  better 
workt" 

it  is  our  duty,  also,  as  Masons,  at 
members  of  society,  to  preserve  invi* 
ohite,  those  sacred  principles  and  dic- 
tates which  ever  govern  the  honest 
man,  who  is  ^  the  noblest  work  of 
God."  Without  we  parsue  a  course 
rather  enviable  than  otherwise,  we 
are  unworthy  members  of  the  commu- 
nity, and  tend  to  degrade,  and  lessen 
ourselves  in  the  estimation  of  our  fel- 
low men.  Our  actions,  then,  through 
life,  should  be  such  as  are  calculated 
to  endear  us  to  all,  and  entitle  us  to. 
the  admiration  of  every  member  of 
society.  In  oar  ordinary  transactions 
and  dealings,  we  should  ever  act  upon 
the  level,  and  nqwtre  those  actions  ac- 
cording to  the  gokJen  precepts  of  re* 
ligion.  Moral  rectitude,  correct  de- 
portment, a  strict  adherence  to  tnith, 
and  a  proper  regard  for  every  thing 
calculated  to  advance  the  interest  of 
mankind,  in  conjunction  with  a  decent 
respect  for  the  opinion  of  all  religious 
denominations,  will  ever  have  the  de- 
sired efiect  to  promote  the  Aiture  pro^ 
pects  and  welfare  of  every  Mason. 

With  these  few  and  incomplete  ob- 
servations, my  brethren,  I  commit  you 
to  the  care  of  Him  who  ruleth  over 
all,  relying  on  his  mercy  and  good- 
ness, to  guide  and  direct  your  steps^ 
and  in  t£e  end,  prepare  you  for  an  in-« 
heritauce  in  the  Grand  Lodge  above, 
^  not  made  with  hands,etemal  in  hea* 
^cen!" 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


134 


CHARITT  THE  FIHST  OF  MASONIC 
DUT1£S. 

Matiy  valuable  and  important  pa- 
pers have  been  written  on  the  subject 
of  Freemasonry,  which,  in  a  word, 
serve  to  illustrate  the  principles  of  the 
institution.  It  would  be  unnecessary 
to  ofler  any  remarks  on  this  head,  h 
is  my  intention  to  show,  that  charity 
does,  and  always  did,  form  a  particu- 
lar ingredient  in  the  character  of  a 
free  and  accepted  Mason.  Although 
the  charity  of  a  Mason  extends  to  the 
whole  human  family,  of  which  each 
individoal  if  a  child,  yet,  a  cerUin 
dass  of  men  having  iniisted  under  the 
banners  of  the  order,  to  partake  of  the 
several  benefits  and  privileges,  it  is 
but  reasonable  to  suppose,  that  they 
should,  individuaUy  and  collectively, 
eome  nnder  our  particular  notice.  Is 
it  not  the  fact  in  all  societies  designed 
for  charitable  purposes  ?  Do  not  the 
hidividuals  composing  such  an  insti- 
lution  miite  together,  in  order  to  as- 
sist their  fellow  memt>er8  in  the  hour 
of  distress  a^d  trial  ?  Are  they  not,  in 
a  particular  manner,  subservient  to 
other  ends :  for  the  relief  of  widows, 
orphans,  Ssc.  ? 
All  these  institutions,  which  are  nu- 
.  merous,  and  generally  well  conducted, 
have  at  all  times  received  the  patron- 
age of  the  liberal  and  enlightened. 
Ihit  my  reader,  in  the  order  of  Free- 
masonry, the  instances  are  numerous 
and  beyond  calculation,  where  the  be- 
nefits of  the  society  have  extended  to 
the  relief  of  distr^sed  brethren,  wi- 
dows, and  orphans.  It  is  sometimes 
said,  by  those  who  have  not  been  ini- 
tiated into  the  society,  <<I  have  never 
seen  any  eood  arising  from  it,"  nor, 
indeed,  will  they,  until  they  are  regu- 
larly initiated.  As  well  might  ti^y 
eadeavour  to  obtain  the  secrets  of  a 
Mason,  which  We  all  know  have  ex- 
isted from  time  immemorial,  as  to  be- 
come acquainted  with  the  charitable 
transactions  of  a  lodge ;  or  to  know 
when  an  individual  stretches  out  his 
hand  to  serve  a  distressed  brother, 
with  whom  be  is  often  made  acquaint- 


ed by  tbose  inviolable  aecrtts,  wfatek- 

constitute,  among  Freemasons,  a  uni* 
versal  language.  What  has  the  world 
to  do  with  private  transactions ;  whe- 
ther a  widow,  an  orphan,  or  a  pil- 
grim has  obtaroed  relief?  IfMejrwere^ 
then,  as  well  might  the  myHericM  of 
light  be  unfolded  lo  them ! 

The  peculiar  excellency  of  the  in- 
stitution does  not  rest  m  the  display 
of  virtues  merely  civil,  nor  in  the 
jewels  which  adorn  the  Mason  ^  oor 
in  a  word,  in  external  show  or  gran- 
deur. Though  these  have  their  seve- 
ral ends,  some  of  which  are  absolutely 
essential  to  the  appropriate  clothui^ 
of  a  Mason,  yet,  charity,  benevolence, 
and  love,  constiCate  the  basis  of  the 
temple.  Thousands,  and  I  may  add 
tens  of  thousands,  have  witnessed  the 
kindl V  offices  of  Masons :  the  widow 
and  the  orphan,  whose  petitions  have 
never  been  rejected,  can  also  witness, 
not  only  in  this,  but  in  every  quarter 
of  the  globe,  the  cluurity  of  a  Mason. 

Charity!  thou  heaven)x>m  virtue f 
long  mayest  thou  preside  as  the  goaiw 
dian  genius  of  Masonry:  and  may 
wisdom,  strength  and  besuty,  remain 
the  three  great  pillars.  c 


GRAND  LODGE  OF  THE  STATE  OP 
NEW-TORK. 

The  following  is  the  address,  deliv- 
ered by  his  excellency  Daniel  D. 
Tompkins,  grand  master  of  Masons 
in  the  Stale  of  New- York,  and  vice 
president  of  the  United  Stales,  on  the 
fifth  of  July  last ;  on  his  taking  the 
chair,  the  first  time  after  his  installa- 
tion. 

GRAND  LODOK. 

Nsw-Tou,  6th  ^pt  A.  L.  6tt0. 

RxsoLTZD,  That  a  committee  be  appofait- 
ed  to  wait  on  hit  exeelieney  tke  moit  wo^ 
shipfnl  gnod  master,  and  respectfiiUy  re- 
queat  oftiuii,  for  pubUcatioOf  a  cop^  of  hit 
address,  delivered  ob  5th  July,  hewn  the 
grand  hKige.  .igitzedbyGoOglc 


oftAim  uAwrmws  abhsiu. 


l^ 


Jl9soLvsi>,TbiittlieW.Br.Loa,of  No.  16. 
The  W.  Br.  Lyons,         of  No   9. 
And  Br.  Dacacbet,  J.  W,  of  No.  2, 
sonstitute  the  Committee^ 

£xtract  from  the  minotes.        

A.  LOTT, 
AdiUaU  Grmid  aeareiary. 

Nbw-Tork,  7th  9»ft.  1820. 
MoiC  Wonhipltil  Sir, 

In  conformity  with  the  abore  reso- 
lirtSoDy  wp  were  appointed  a  committee  to 
caiw  iU  object  iato  effect 

We  most  earnestly  hope  yon  will  gratify 
tke  expectation  of  the  grand  lodeci  by  a 
compliance  with  their  requeati  and  furnish 
w  with  a  copy  of  your  addreM  of  5th  Jnlyy 
lor  pubBeatloo. 

We  are,  with  great  retpect, 
And  fraternal  regard, 
Your  obedient  servants, 
A.  LOTT, 
JAMES  LYONS, 
HENRT  W.  DUCACmr. 
To  hit  excellency  Daviel  D.  ToHr-  i 
KiMS,graBd  masterof  Masons  in  and  > 
for  the  state  of  New-York  ) 

Nc  w-YosLB  Sirr.  90th,  1820. 
Wershipfiil  Brothers, 

In  compliance  with  yonr  commonl- 
calion  of  the  7th  instant,  transmitting  a  res- 
olution of  the  erand  lodge,  and  requesting 
a  eonr  of  the  address  of  the  6(h  of  July  last, 
parnant  thereto  i  Iharethehonoartopre* 
sent  to  yoa  the  enclosed  copy. 

With  great  fralend  i^ard  and  affeetion, 
lam, 
Worshipfal  Brothers, 
Yom-  Friend  and  Brother, 

Daniel  d.  tompkins. 


W.  AaaH.  LoTT, 

W.  Jambs  Ltuhs, 

Br.  H.  W.  DOCACHST, 


No.  16.  > 


ADDRESS. 

Wonkigfrnl  Broihen, 

Awaie  of  my  inexperience^  of  late 
years,  in  the  transactions  of  th^  fra- 
tonity,  nothing  but  a  confidence  that 
the  same  eomrtesy  and  liberality 
which  iadoced  you  to  confer  on  me 
the  office  of  grand  BMster,  would  be 
extended  to  the  performance  of  its  da- 
tie%cottld  faaf«  justified  mv  accept- 
ance of  that  honour.     I  shall  erer  I 


appreciate  this  instance  U  your  coofr* 
dence  with  the  most  friendly  and  live* 
ly  recollection,  not  only  as  an  honour 
of  the  highest  nature,  but  as  a  gratify* 
ing  testimonial  of  the  respect  and  es* 
teem  of  men  whom  it  will  always  ha 
my  greatest  pleasure  to  claim  as  bro- 
thers. 

Although  it  belongs  to  more  profi* 
cient  brethren  than  myself  to  developn 
the  origin  and  history  of  Masonry, 
and  to  pronounce  its  encomium ;  yet 
it  will  i»ot,  I  hope,  be  deemed  irrele- 
vant, on  the  present  occasion,  concise- 
ly to  review  the  lofty  and  noble  char- 
acter which  has  hitlierto  distinguished 
our  fraternity,  and  to  indulge  in  a  per- 
spective view  of  our  future  destinies, 
and -of  the  benefits  that  may  result 
from  our  foture  operations. 

The  refiection  that  this  institution 
is  the  most  ancient  of  all  moral,  so- 
cial, political,  literary,  and  benevolent 
societies,  b  just  cause  of  pride  and 
satisfoction  to  every  enlightened  and 
candid  member.  History  produces 
no  parallel  of  its  duration. 

Whatever  may  be  the  diversity  of 
opinion  as  to  the  precise  period  of  its 
commencement,  it  seems  to  be  con- 
ceded by  all,  that  it  is  at  least  coeval 
with  the  building  of  Solomon's  temple. 
What  thrones  have  not  been  shaken 
within  that  space  of  tibie  1    What  em* 
pues  have  not  forever  disappeared 
from  the  political   horiam !     What 
moral,  literary  or  religiouB  tribunals, 
formed  within  that  interval,  have  not 
been  broken  into  fragments,  or  totally 
annihilated  !    Governments,  civil  and 
religious,  have  been  instituted  and  de* 
stroyed.    Powers  and  dominions  in* 
numerable  have  arisen    and    passed 
away,  without  leaving  a  trace  behind. 
Kvery  thiqg  but  Masonry,  seems  to 
have  been  constantly  changing,  from 
the  remotest  periods   of   history.— 
About  the  date  of  the  departure  of  the 
Romans  from  Britain,  and  for  a  lapse 
of  time  afterwanb,  during  the  sangui- 
nanr  conflicts  that  ensued,  Masonry 
sufiered  a  decline,  and  then  had  its 


tS6 


OEAini  MASTKIS'S  ADDKSS8. 


was  only  in  the  dirrk  age,  which  pre- 
ceded the  introduction  of  Christianity, 
that  thb  noble  institution  drooped  for 
a  time.  When  the  figlit  of  religion 
had  dissipated  the  preyaiKng  dark- 
ness, Masonry  was  again  revived,  by 
the  countenance  and  patronage  of  the 
great  and  learned  men  of  the  age,  and 
has  ever  since  maintained  its  pristine 
^gour  and  lustre. 

it  is  equally  a  source  of  pleasing 
reflection,  in  the  review  of  our  past 
operations,  that  our  institution  is 
known  and  embraced  throughout  tln^ 
whole  habitable  globe;  and  that  its 
iFotaries  find  brethren  and  friends,  of 
the  same  family,  wherever  choice  or 
tiestiny  may  convey  them.  Among 
the  innumerable  chsuracteristics  of  the 
craft,  it  is  not  the  least  grateful,  that 
besides  the  jnomotion  of  philanthropy, 
morality,  fnendship,  benevolence,  civ- 
ilization and  religion,  it  has  always 
been  made  subservient  to  the  advance- 
ment of  literature,  and  the  promotion 
of  the  fine  arts.  It  is  our  boast  too, 
that  for  ages  past,  the  most  illustrious 
sovereigns,  statesmen,  divines,  and 
philosophers  of  every  age  and  coun- 
try, have  been  proud  to  enrol  them- 
selves as  brethren  of  the  most  benevo- 
lent and  distinguished  association  that 
man  ever  formed,  and  that,  pntwith- 
standing  the  wide  diffusion  of  its  mys- 
teries to  brethren  of  all  politics,  climes, 
and  religions,  they  have  been  inviola- 
bly withheld  from  the  rest  of  the 
world. 

I'hese  considerations,  with  others, 
which  the  heart  and  imagination  of 
every  member  of  this  worshipful 
grand  lodge  will  easily  supply,  ought 
to  impress  us  deeply  with  the  propri- 
ety and  necessity  of  devoting  our- 
selves to  the  preservation  of  its  char- 
acter and  usefulness.  To  accomplish 
this  desirable  object,  I  shall  feel  my- 
self authorized  to  put  in  requisition 
the  united  eiperience  and  wisdom  of 
the  brethren  d  this  worshipful  frater- 
nity. 

The  existing  state  of  pecaniary  dis- 
tress throughout  the  country,  admoi^ 


ishes  us  to  anticipate  additional  calb 
on  the  charitable  fund,  both  of  the 
grand  lodge,  and  of  the  lodges  under 
its  jurisdiction,  at  the  same  time  that 
the  means  of  the  brethren  at  large  to 
contribute  to  that  fund  are  proportion- 
ably  diminished.  It  is  our  duty  there- 
fore to  economise  the  resources  of  the 
institution,  and  to  diminish  its  expen* 
ditures,  so  that  these  accumulated  de- 
mands may  be  met  with  that  prompt- 
itude, and  character  for  benevoleocey 
which  has  heretofore  so  justly  and  so 

{>re-eminently  distinguished  this  grand 
odge. 

To  preserve  friendship,  harmony^ 
and  social  intercourse  In  the  bosom  of 
a  lodge,  it  is  desirable,  if  not  indis- 
pensable, that  mutual  respect  and  es- 
teem sho  uldbe  cherished  amongst  its 
members ;  and  therefore  the  greatest 
circumspection  ought  to  be  exercised , 
in  relation  to  the  moral  and  charitable 
character  and  disposition  of  candi- 
dates for  the  mysteries  and  benefits  of 
the  craft.  But  above  all,  we  should 
scrupulously  examine  and  guard  our- 
selves against  the  indulgence  of  secta- 
rian or  political  feelings  within  these  . 
sacred  walls.  These  have  been  the 
bane  of  all  moral,  charitable,  and  lite« 
rary  societies,  that  ever  were  formed ; 
^nd  it  b  in  vain  to  hope,  that  the  pil- 
lars of  our  fabric,  though  of  long  du- 
ration, and  firmly  established  now, 
will  be  exempt  from  the  downfall, 
which  the  same  causes  have  invaria^ 
bly  accomplished  in  other  institutions*  , 
Here  we  are  brethren  of  the  same  fam- 
ily, endeared  by  ties  that  ought  never 
to  be  broken.  Here  the  lion  and  the 
lamb  truly  lie  down  together.  The 
objects  we  have  in  view  are  the  same, 
and  concerning  them  there  can  be  no 
diversity  of  opinion  or  sentiment.  Let 
us  then  cordially  unite  our  hearts,  in 
the  accomplishment  of  the  grand  work 
and  duty  before  us,  with  a  singie  eye 
to  their  honourable  and  fell  perform- 
ance ;  and  thereby  we  shall  preserve 
and  perpetuate  the  character  and  ble»- 
sings  of  this  venerable  and  exaked  aa^ 
gociatioB#  .    r  -         I 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MAflOmC  DimCATIOM. 


BEDICATIOIf  OF   TttE   MASONIC 
HALL  AT  PHILAD£LPfflA. 

The  MBaotAc  Hall  in  the  city  o^ 
Pluladelphia,  which  was  destroyed  by 
fire  about  nineteen  months  ago,  has 
recently  been  rebuilt,  in  a  style  of  ele- 
gance far  surpassing  that  of  the  former 
building.  It  was  dedicated  on  Wed- 
nesday the  first  day  of  November  last. 
The  event  was  celebrated  by  the  craft, 
about  one  thousand  in  number,  with  a 
dq^ree  of  pomp,  splendour,  and  good 
crder,  exceeding  any  for^ner  exhibi- 
tioB  of  the  kind,  and  feelings  of  joy 
and  gratitude,  were  evinced  by  the 
oretbren* 

A  grand  procession  was  formed  at 
Washington  Hall,  in  true  Masonic  or- 
der, composed  of  the  brethren  of  the 
difierent  lodges  in  Philadelphia,  join- 
ed by  others  from  various  parts  of 
the  United  States;  and  after  moving 
through  the  priadpal  streets  in  the 
dty,  proceeded  in  regular  order,  to 
Zion  church  in  Fomth-etreet,  where 
they  entered  with  the  usual  ceremo- 


rtr 


On  the  entranoe  of  the  processioii, 

VOLUNTARY    ON   TH£  OldOAN, 

By  Brother  R.  Taylor. 

SYMPATHT^By  Bfilgrav). 


I  no  man 


e  upon  K 
Whom  DO  man  can  comfort)  whom 

can  save; 
With  darkneis  mmmiidcdy  by  terrors  dis- 

may'd; 
b  tolBng  and  rowing  thy  strength  is  de- 

cay'd. 

CRoavs. 

Forget  thee,  I  will  not,  I  cannot;  thy 

name, 
Eograv*d  on  my  heart,  do!^  forever  remain. 
The  palms  of  my  hands,  whilst  I  look  on, 

I  see 
The  wounds  I  received  when  snifring  for 

thee: 
I  fed  at  my  heart,  all  thy  sighs  and  thy 

groans, 
Fcr  tboa  art  most  near  me,  my  flesh  and 

my  bones. 
In  an  thy  cBstresses,  thy  Head  feels  the 

pain; 
TetattaiemostaeedM;  not  one  is  hi  vain. 


PBATER, 

M)rgeC.Fotl 
Iain. 

APfTHEM.~By  C.  Meinecke. 


By  the  Rev.  George  C.  Fotto,  Grand  Ch«>- 
Jain- 


O  praise  the  Lord,  in  that  blest  place, 

From    whence    his   goodness    largely 
flows : 
Praise  him  in  heav'n,  where  be  his  Cbm^, 

Unveil'd  in  peifect  glory,  showj. 
caoaes. 
Praise  him  for  all  the  mighty  acts, 

Which  he  in  our  behalf  has  done : 
His  kindness  this  return  exacts, 

With  which  our  praise  should  eoeal  ran. 
Let  the  shrill  trumpet's  warlike  voice. 

Make  rocks  and  bills  bis  praise  rebound  ; 
Praise  him  with  harp's  melodious  voicci 

And  ^ntle  psaltry's  silver  sound. 
Let  virgin  troc^  soft  tnnbrels  bring, 

And  some  with  eraoefal  motion  dance ; 
Let  instruments  of  various  strings, 

With  organs  ^n'd,  his  praise  advance ; 
Let  those  who  jo)rful  hymns  compose^ 

To  cvmbals  set  their  songs  of*  praise ; 
Cymbsilsof  coounon  ate,  and  those 

That  loudly  sound  on  solemn  days. 

WVhL  CRORUi. 

Let  all,  who  vHal  breath  enjoy. 
The  breath  be  doth  to  them  afford, 

bi  lost  ret«ms  of  praise  employ ; 
Letev'iy  creature  praise  the  Lord. 
Amehi  AMsir. 

ORATION, 

By  Brother  Bayse  Neweomby  Ef<j[. 

R,W.  Grand  MatUr. 

HTMN. 

▲la. 
Why  wake  the  soft  harmonious  lays  .^ 
Why  do  our  songs  united  raise  ? 
Tb  heav'n-bom  charity  we  praise. 
The  souKe  of  all  our  earthly  joys. 

CODA. 

Han,  charity !  what  heart  but  gtows  with 

thee, 
Bright  emanation  of  the  Peity. 

PRAYER. 

By  the  Rev.  Dr.  William  Rogers, 

Grand  Chapiain, 

MASONIC  ODE, 

Composed  by  Mr.  W.  B.  Tappan.— Mufic 
by  Pucitta/- Arranged  by  Brother  B.  Osrr. 

«  Strike  the  cymbal, 
Roll  the  tymbal !"  , 

SweU  the  note  of  gretefid  love^iC 


Ill 


rVNBRAL  OftATION. 


Lend  your  voices ! 
fhuM  the  ARCHITECT  tbove. 

Godofgloiy ! 

The  long  of  Tict'rVt 
Ftens  loud  are  ever  tnioe— 

Chembt  tSagingy 

Glad  are  bringing 
Off  rings  to  JEHOVAH'S  Shrine ! 

Lo!  in  graiidetir» 

Bedeck'd  in  splendour, 
9ee  tlie  Temple  proodly  tises  ? 
Masonry  triampbant  gues ! 

Wbere^  red  gleanungr   ' 

Ruin  beaming 
Spreads  the  midnight  terror  roottd ! 

Art  combining, 

Grace  entwining, 
CHARITT  the  comer  stone: 

Discord  never 

Can  dissever 
Fabrics  rear'd  on  God  alone ! 
FAITH  and  HOPE  our  chosen  stqr» 
Love  ilhnnes  with  mystic  ray ; 
Tmth  and  reason  still  combiney 
StHI  adorn  the  halloir'd  shsine. 
Pnise, praise  the  ArehHect!  Opraise! 
HofluiiiAl  HoMiinn!  Hoaannal 


UlTBDICTIOir. 

The  brethren  in  the  cfaurdiwere 
fiEivoured  with  the  preience  of  the 
clergy  of  differeDt  denominatiooBy  va- 
rious civil  officers  of-the  state  and  dty, 
and  the  trustees  and  directors  of  the 
several  learned  institutions,  together 
with  a  briUiant  assemblage  of  ladies. 

After  the  conclusion  of  the  ceremo- 
nies at  the  churdiy  the  procession 
again  formed,  and  proceeded  to  the 
Hall,  in  Chestnut-street,  where,  after 
the  brethren  had  entered,  and  the 
grand  nuister  having  reached  Solo- 
mon's chair,  thoidoors  were  tyled,  the 
grand  lodge  op^ied,  and  the  HaU  was 
solemnly  dedicated,  agreeably  to  the 
usages  and  customs  of  the- order.  A^ 
ter  the  grand  lodge  was  closed,  the 
officers,  with  those  of  the  grand  lodge' 
of  New-Jersey,  and  a  great  number 
oT  rc^MCtable  visiters,  partook  of  a 
banquet  in  the  grand  sakxm  of  the 
HalL 

During  the  whole  celebration,  no 
aeddent,  nor  any  thing  unpleasant  oc- 
curred, notwithstanding  the  immense 
concoune  of  spectators. 


Fon  nu  BUsone  RsoistKii. 

.  AN  ADDRESSi 
Ddivered  at  the  interment  of  a  dece«i»- 
ed  brother,  at  Newburgfa :— By  the 
late  Benjamin  F.  Lkwis. 

It  falls  to  my  lot  tj  address  you  oo 
a  most  solemn  occasion ;  a  feliow- 
citiaen,  and  a  worthy  brother,  who  but 
a  few  days  since,  was  actively  engag- 
ed in  the  busy  scenes  of  life,  now  lies 
before  you  a  breathless  corpse.  Sud- 
denly snatched  from  the  society  of  his 
relatives  and  ftiends,  and  wrapped  m 
a  mournful  shroud,  he  is  placed  before 
^ou  on  the  brink  of  that  opening  grave  ^ 
It  is  there  placed  for  a  moment,  to 
give  us  a  pause  for  serious  reflection  ^ 
and  to  dnm  a  tributwy  tear  to  bis 
memory.  Such  a  scene  as  this  pro- 
claims, io  accents  louder  than  triple 
thundar^  this  all  important  truth,  that 
wumUmoriaL 

It  was  the  desiie  of  our  departed 
brother,  while  he  yet  was  a  tenant  of 
mortality,  that  his  funeral  sc^emnities 
should  be  attended  with  masonic  hon- 
ours. Iff  accordance  to  his  wishes, 
and  at  the  request  of  my  surviving 
brethren,  I  now  appear  before  this 
assembly  of  mourning  friends,  to  bear 
a  part  in  the  obsequies  of  the  deceased. 
You  this  day  behold  the  solemn  pro- 
cession,  and  contemplate  these  badges 
of  met  From  these  ceremonies  we 
shall  team  many  interesting  lessons, 
which  in  the  ordinary  course  of  life, 
we  should  never  regard;  and  while 
out  of  respect  to  the  memory  of  a  de- 
parted friend,  or  brother,  we  are  indi^ 
ced  to  exchange  the  common  routine 
of  pleasure  or  business,  for  the  house 
of  mourning,  and  a  temporary  inter- 
course with  its  inmates,  and  to  bedew 
its  sacred  portals  ^with  sympathetic 
tears  for  toeir  distress.^  In  these  se- 
rious and  endeared  moments,  we  are 
feelfngly  idive  to  the  charms  of  virtue, 
and  the  dictates  of  religion.  We  are 
necessitated,  in  a  measure,  to  clothe^  - 
ourselves,  in  imagination,  with  the 


^ttOEBAL  OKAftOM. 


199 


gttb  of  Ae  dead,  well  knowing  ttwt 
▼ery  toon  we  must  wear  it  In  lialtty. 
On  nidi  occasions  we  should  endeav- 
onr  to  copy  tbeir  laudable  ciamples, 
and  to  catdi  some  portion  of  the  di- 
vine  spirit,  which  has  ascended  to 
Heaven. 

It  was  not  only  the  custom  of  the 
Egyptians,  and  the  Greeks,  to  oel»> 
braie  the  bnrial  of  a  deceased  friend, 
wkfa  fiineral  pomp;  but  the  sacred 
aoriptnras  also  furnish  OMUiy  instances 
of  a  similar  kind,  and  bear  testimony 
to  its  propriety,  and  tendency  to  sof- 
tea  the  manner^  and  to  mend  the 
iMart.  When  Joseph  heard  of  the 
death  of  his  venerable  fiither  Jacob, 
be  hastened  to  visit  the  breadiless 
day;  he  fell  opoait,  wept  over  it,  and 
kisaed  It,  and  commanded  his  physi- 
dans  to  embalm  k.  He  then,  witb 
all  his  brethren,  and  those  of  his  own, 
and  of  hb  Other's  boose,  with  charioa 
and  hoffseoien,  a  very  great  company, 
went  op  tobary  him,in  his  own  bury- 
ing groond,  and  made  a  great,  and 
very  sore  lamentation  Ibr  their  ihther, 
for  sefca  days.  How  auich  more  re- 
spedfol  was  this  soieBmiQr,  than  the 
nacereaoaioos  manaer,  which  too 
generally  prevails  at  the  present  day, 
«f  borying  the  dead,  even  without  the 
coiloflHuryservieesc^  religion.  Such 
negligence  and  inattention,  has  the 
ypcarance  of  thonghtlessncss,  and 
that  it  is  our  chief  concern  to  succeed, 
as  qokkly  as  possible,  to^^he  estates 
af  OOP  iwparted  parentt;  witb  very 
mde  respect  to  their  memories,  or  any 
due  sense  oftheir  former  kindness  to 
OB,  nsdnbess  to  the  world,  or  the  lea- 
sons  which  their  exam[Aes  should 
teach. 

The  aadent  Christians,  besides 
their  funeral  solemnities,  were  wont  to 
meet  freqaently  at  the  graves  of  their 
BMityred  saints,  and  mI  v  men,  and 
there  to  write  the  histories  of  their 
sufferings,  mid  their  triumphs,  for  the 
furpose  of  deeply  infixing,  in  their 
own  minds,  that  onconquered  bold- 
ness, and  fervent  piety,  which  charac- 
tciiied  these  disciples  of  Immanud; 


and  to  furmsh  tfaemsdves  with  all  the 
peculiar  virtues  of  these  Christian 


Our  business,  this  day,  is  to  recal 
to  our  memories,  a  truth  which  can* 
not  be  too  often  repeated,  thai  we 
wnmiaOdiej  and  render  a  strict  and 
impartial  account  of  our  stewardship, 
to  oor  Maker ;  and  the  wisest  know 
not  how  soon,  or  how  sudden,  this 

Cand  irreversible  change  may 
en  to  each  one  of  us. 
But  a  few  short  months  have  dap- 
aed,  since  we  were  called  upon  to  per- 
ferm  the  bst  sad  honours  of  Masonry, 
over  die  mortal  remains  of  one  of  oor 
oldest,  and  most  respectable  brethrea, 
and  this  day  we  have  reodved  a  fra* 
temal  summons  to  convey  to  the  si- 
lent tomb,  the  corpse  of  a  worthy  and 
venerable  brother,  who  was  walking 
our  streets,  not  a  week  since,  and  was 
assiduously  engaged  in  the  aflairs  of 
die  worid,  in  dl  the  bloom  and  pride 
of  bis  usud  hedth.  He  has  mdeed 
been  suddenly  called  from  his  station 
among  us;  but  we  have  good  reason 
to  hem  and  bdieve,  that  he  was  not 
wholly  unprepared  to  exchange  hie 
bouse  for  a  coffin,  his  activity  in  soci- 
ety for  solitude  and  silence,  and  his 
exertions  for  doing  good  to  mankind 
for  darkness  and  the  grave.  Froai 
the  busy  scenes  of  thb  mortd  life,  it 
hath  pleased  the  Sovereign  Dispoaer 
of  events,  to  call  him,  as  we  trust,  to 
become  a  member  of  the  church  tri* 
umphant,  in  Heaven ;  from  his  family 
in  thtt  world,  to  the  paradise  of  God. 
To  them  this  providence  must  be  pe- 
euliariy  afflictive  ;  and  coosidenng 
the  licavy  lom  which  they  have  si»> 
tained,  and  the  keen  sensibility  It 
must  have  excited,  I  feel  mysefr  in 
doubt  how  to  proceed*  Slmuld  I 
dweU  upon  the  dark  side  of  this  dis- 
pensation, it  would  only  open  wider 
the  springs  of  grief,  and  enlarge  the 
avenues  of  sorrow.  1  wish  not  to  add 
affliction  to  the  afflicted;  but  would 
rather,  if  I  knW  the  means,  adminis- 
ter comfort  and  consobtion  to  the 
broken  hm^rted;  though  their  best  and 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


140 


-BEksasn  wmtL  masokio  iicbbct. 


dearest  earthly  frieod  is  gone,  never 
Bore  to  be  &  resident  in  this  our  world^ 
yet  they  have  a  rational  hope  to  sop* 
port  them  under  their  trials^  that  be 
has  exchanged  worlds,  infinitely  H 
his  advantage. 

Charity  forbids  thai  we  should  place 
him  any  where  but  in  the  bosom  of 
Abraham,  surrounded  with  myriads  of 
kindred  spirhs,  solacing  him  with  be- 
atific joys,  at  the  Ibuntaui  of  delight, 
and  drinking  full  draughts  of  the  rivers 
of  pleasure,  which  flow  at  God's  right 
hand.  He  died  but  to  live  again,  and 
to  live  in  a  more  happifying  and  ex- 
alted manner,  than  when  here  on 
earth.  His  relatives  and  friends  have 
no  reason  to  lament  his  death,  as  a 
lots  to  himself;  for  while  to  him  to 
Uoe  wa»  Ckristj  so  fac  hun  to  dietoas 
his  eternal  and  unspeakable  gain. 

But  I  hasten  to  a  conclusion.  Fu- 
neral addresses  are  intended  only  for 
the  benefit  of  the  living ;  therefore  let 
the  virtues  and  noble  example  of  our 
departed  brother  be  long  cherished  hi 
our  memories,  and  precious  to  our 
hearts.  Let  us  dry  up  our  tears,  and 
silence  every  vain  complaint.  Let  us 
sot  question  the  dispensations  of  Pro- 
vidence, nor  ask,  with  a  murmuring 
temper,  with  a  certain  conceited  phi- 
losopher. Whether  it  were  not  desira- 
ble, that  the  virtues  and  talents  of  em- 
inent men  should  be  hereditary  ?  Let 
us  rather  trust,  with  confidence,  that 
the  Bountiful  Giver  of  life,  and  its 
Uessinp,  will  in  the  end,  do  us  ample 
justice.  Let  us  persevere  in  the  line 
of  our  duty,  and  serve  our  generation 
faithfullv,  according  to  the  divine 
will,  well  knowing  that  the  all-seeing 
eye  of  our  great  and  glorious  Grand 
Master,  continually  olraerves  and  re- 
cords all  our  actions;  and  may  we 
learn  from  him,  that  a  heart  pure,  and 
detached  from  sordid  pleasures ;  a 
soul  panting  after  perfection,  and  de- 
voted to  the  service  of  its  Maker,  and 
the  best  interests  of  mankind,  shall  at 
length  rise,  and  mix,  in  eternal  fellow- 
ship, with  the  bealified  iamily  of 
God. 


<<  In  thMe  bcj«M  tegkmt  oTcalMlil  41^, 
Far  other  scenesy  iar  other  pleasares  reign  j 
All  beautv  here  below,  to  them  compared, 
Wottldi  like  a  rose  before  th^  mid-day  dnn. 
Shrink    ap  iti  bloswNns ;   Ilka  a  babble 

break 
The  passing  poor  laaffaificeiice  of  kings ! 
For  there  the  kine  of  nature,  in  full  blatfe. 
Calls  ev'ry  splendour  forth,  and  tibere  Ws 

court, 
Aiiid  etheriai  powers  and  virtues^  holds ! 
Angels,  archangels*  tutelaiy  gods 
Of  cities,  nations,  empires,  and  of  worids  ! 
But  sacred  be  the  veil  that  kindly  shrouds 
A  light  too  keen  for  mortals."*-— * 


REASONS  FOR  MASONIC  SECREST. 

If  the  secrets  of  Masonry  are  re* 
plete  with  such  advantases  to  man* 
kind,  it  may  be  asked^  my  are  they 
not  divulged  for  the  general  good  of 
society?  Tothis  it  may  be  answered^ 
were  the  privileges  of  Masonry  to  be 
indiscriminately  dispensed,  the  puiw 
poses  of  the  institution  would  be  siiri^ 
verted,  and  our  secreu  being  feosiliary 
like  other  imnortant  oiattera,  would 
lose  their  value,  and  sink  into  dis- 
regard. 

It  is  a  weakness  in  human  nature, 
that  men  are  generally  more  charmed 
with  novelty,  than  with  the  intrinsic 
value  of  thii^  ImmmecBble  testi* 
monies  might  be  adduced  to  confiraa 
this  truth.  The  most  wondeitful  op* 
erations  of  the  Divine  Artifictr,  how* 
ever  beautiful,  magnificent,  and  um-^ 
ful,  are  overlooked,  because  comnxNi 
and  familiar.  The  sun  rises  and  sets, 
the  sea  flows  and  reflbws,  rivers  glid^ 
along  their  channels,  trees  and  phints 
vegetate,    men  and  beasts  act,   yat 


these  being  perpetually  open  to  v«cw, 
pass  unnoticed.  The  most  astonisb* 
ing  productions  of  nature  on  the  same 
account  escape  observation,  and  ex- 
cite no  emotion,  either  in  admiration 
of  the  great  cause,  or  of  gratitude  for 
the  blessing  conferred.  Even  virtue 
herself  is  not  exempted  from  this  un- 
happy bias  in  the  human  frame.  Nov» 
elty  influences  all  our  actions  and  de- 
terminations. What  is  new,  or  diffi- 
cult in  the  acquisition,  however  tri- 
I  fling  or  iusigaificant)  readify  capti- 

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TEMamccrwa  m  masomit. 


141 


\  the  iiBiliiiilfiMy  haA  insures  a 
temporary  admiratioo ;  iHule  what  is 
familiar^  or  easily  attained,  however 
noble  or  eminent,  is  sure  to  be  disre- 
garded by  the  giddy  and  the  unthink- 
ing. 

Did  the  essence  of  Masonry  consist 
in  the  knowledge  of  particular  secrets 
<ir  peculiar  forms,  it  might  be  alledged 
that  out'  amasenc-nts  were  trifling  and 
CTperficial.  But  this  fs  not  the  cas«. 
These  are  only  keys  to  oar  treasure, 
and  having  their  use,  are  preserved ; 
while,  from  the  recollection  of  the  les- 
aona  which  they  inculcate,  the  well 
informed  Mason  derives  instruction, 
draws  them  to  a  near  inspection, 
views  them  through  a  proper  medium, 
adverts  to  the  circumstances  which 
Kave  them  rise,  and  dwells  upon  the 
tends  which  they  convey.  Findhog 
then  replete  with  useAil  information, 
he  priies  them  as  sacred ;  and  con- 
vineed  of  their  propriety,  estimates 
their  vabe  torn  their  atiMty. 

PEMECimOfN  OF  MASONKT. 
It  is  stated  that  th^king  of  Prussia 
has  ordered  all  the  Freemason's  lodges 
in  his  dominions  to  be  closed,  and  tnat 
flie  same  measure  is  proposed  to  be 
taken  nr  Austria,  and  throughout  Ger> 
many.  Vain  and  presumptuous  ty- 
rants! Dothey  now  think  to  suppress 
an  institution,  that  has  stood  unmoved 
Ibr  ages,  in  defiance  of  all  the  storms 
nused  against  it,  by  ignorance,  bigot- 
ry, and  superstition  ?  As  well  might 
Oey  order  the  wrads  to  cease  from 
liloiwing,  or  the  rivers  to  run  over  the 
highest  hiQs,  as  to  oppose  their  feeble 
power  to  an  institution,  supported  by 
the  strong  pillars  of  Trutn  and  Jus- 
dee,  and  einbraced  in  all  parts  of  the 
known  world,  not  only  by  men  pos- 
sessing the  highest  <|rivil  honours,  but 
by  th^  of  the  purest  piety. 

MASdNlC  HYMN. 

BT  BBOTMSR  A.  SICHOLS,  JCM. 

Great  Architect,  supreme,  divine, 
Whose  wisdom  planned  the  great  design, 
And  gave  to  natnre  iMrth ; 


I 


Whote  word  wiUi  light  adoni'd  thsskkes» 
Gave  matter  fom,  bade  order  riie. 
And  biess'd  the  •ew4x>ni  earth! 

O  bleM  this  love-oemented  baady 
ForOD'd  and  sapported  by  diy  1 

For  Charity's  esiplov, 
To  shield  the  wretched  from-deMalr, 
To  spread  through  scenes  of  grief  and  care* 

Reviving  rays  of  joy. 


The  liberal  arts  by  Thee  desi|;n'a 
To  polish,  comfort,  aid  mankiady 

We  labour  to  improve. 
WUIe  we  adorv  Jenovah's  aamet 
Pour  on  our  hearts  thy  melting 

And  mould  oar  souli  to  love! 


Till  love  shall  cease,  till  order  dies. 
To  Thee  masonic  praise  shall  rise ! 


ODE  TO  MASONRT. 

BY  BROTHER  A.   HICHOLS,  JITB.' 

Hail  sons  of  light  and  Masonry, 
United,  happy,  social,  free, 
four  m3r8tic  square  shall  ever  be 
The  seat  of  peace  and  innocence! 

While  virtue  has  a  friend  below, 
Or  tears  for  ethers*  criefs  shall  flow. 
So  long  shall  man  (felight  to  know. 
Blest  royal  art  thy  secret  wortii! 

Wh0e  wisdom,  strength,  or  beaoty  chams, 
Friendship  or  love  the  bosom  warms, 
Thy  (aithiiil  sons  from  care's  alarms 
Shall  walk  secure  in  paths  of  peace! 

While  pure  religion  calms  the  sonl, 
Subjects  the  passions  to  control , 
From  east  to  west,  from  pole  to  pole, 
MillkAs  shall  hail  Freemasonry ! 


BUNDESLIED. 

Segen  jener  grossen  Stunde, 

Da  die  Weisheit  ons  begliickt, 

Da  in  edler  Brftder  Ronde 

Wir  das  voile  Licht  erfolickt. 

Da  in  dnbekauntem  Streife, 

Uo  umhullt  von  finsterer  Nacht, 

Whr  der  Prufung  grosse  Reife 

An  der  Freundschafts  Hand  gesMoht  I 

Der  Bertilendmig  dunkle  Hulle 
Ldste  ihre  Zauderkraft, 
Zu  der  Weisheit  ihrer  Folle 
Fihrte  ens  die  Wissensehaft, 
Zu  des  Lebens  sehdnster  Blithe 
Und  Zurficksurgoldnen  Zeit, 
Da  noch  Freundfofaiift---Hmensg6(a 
Ihren  goldnes  Banen  stoeut. 

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142 


AlKAHfAW  TBUITOKf «. 


Vor  dM  liier  ynMbnmmima  Thurea 
Lectder  Font  den  Pmpv  ab, 
Una  des  Bundes  Lehrea  fihrea 
Zu  der  Mens<;heit  ifan  berth ; 
Wir  rind  gieicb,  and  tile  Bnider! 
Hier  ertaebt  oicbt  Gold— olebt  Stand, 
PesMD  hertz  nor  rein  «td  bMer, 
VHrb  all  Bruder  hier  erktaot. 

Vin  die  Afenschheit  m  beglookaoy 
Beichen  wir  1100  bier  die  baml, 
Vor  der  Reugler  scbtrfM  BUcbea 
Zieht  Venchwiegenheit  den  itand ; 
Wo  die  Armuth  bilflos  klaget» 
Wo  veritSMie  Unschold  weint. 
Wo  Verblendong  Menscben  plagclt 
Sind  aur  Hilfe  wir  verefait 

SeenietdniBi  die  grotke  Stund9k 
Da  die  Weiahett  nnt  beglickl. 
Da  in  edier  Brider  Runde 
Wir  daa  voile  Licht  erhliclrty 
Da  in  nnbekanntem  Streife, 
Und  umbiUlt  von  finatier  Nadit, 
Wir  der  Prufung  groie  Reife 
An  der  Freundachaft  Hand  gemacht  f 


MASONIC  ODE. 

When  etrth*t  foundation  flrat  was  laid» 
By  the  Ahnighty  Artist's  hand; 
It  was  then  onr  perfect,  our  perfect  laws 
were  made, 
Established  by  his  strict  conu&and. 
CfunrtiM. 
Hafl!  mysterions,  hail!  glorious  Masoniyy 
That  makes  ns  ever  great  and  firee, 

JU  mtn  throoghoot  for  shelter  sought, 

In  vain  from  place  to  place  did  roam; 

Until  from  Heaven,  from  Heaven  he  was 

ttngbti 
To  plan,  to  build,  and  111  his  home. 

Hail!  ipysterions,  &c 

Hence  illustrioiis  ioae  our  art. 
And  now  in  beauteous  pQes  appear: 
Which  shall  to  endless,  to  endless  time  Im- 
part, 
How  worthy  and  how  great  we  are. 
Hail!  mysterious,  &c. 

Nor  we  less  iam*d  for  every  tie, 
By  which  the  human  thought  is  bound; 
Love,4nith,  and  friendship,  and  friendship 
aocially 
Doth  join  our  hearts  and  hands  around. 
Hail!  mysterious,  &e. 

Our  actions  Jtlll  by  virtue  blest. 
And  to  our  nrecepts  ever  true; 
Hie  world  aomhring,  admiring  shtD  re- 
quest 
To  leam,  and  our  bright  paiths  pmrsne. 
Haa!  ttQpileriftiia,ke. 


waomeAOL 

Mse,  rise  the  choral  sinfah 
TtthtU  the  noble  traia 

Of  Masons  bright; 
ho  where  the  social  band ! 
Honoured  with  high  commandr 
Still  firm  in  wisd<MD  stand. 

Hail  chiefs  of  light! 


GEOGRAPHICAJU 

THE  AKKANSAW  TEmiTOBT. 

The  following  extract  of  letter  from 
governor  Miller,  to  a  friend  in  Peters- 
borough,  NewHampshire^  will  be  read 
with  pleasure^not  only  by  the  geogra- 
phical Inquirer,  but  by  every  lover  of 
natural  hirtory. 

Post  op  Arkansaw,  Sept.  2^  I820« 

^  I  would  have  answered  yao  sooik 
er,  but  I  have  been  sick  almost  ever 
since  I  received  jroiir  letter;  and  this 
is  the  first  day  I  have  fek  able  td 
write :  I  am  now  very  weak.  Thin 
country  must  be  called  sickly.  Every 
new  comer,  without  ezceptioB,  hm 
been  sick.  The  sickness  here  Is  fever 
and  ague;  a  slow  biHoos  fever,  te» 
Very  few  deaths  occur  by  disease^- 
but  people  remain  weak  and  fit  for 
nothii^  a  long  time.  My  brother  la 
apparently  better  in  hedth  thaok  lie 
has  been  in  two  years. 

^Isuppose  it  would  be  agreeable 
to  you  to  receive  some  descripdoo  of 
this  unknown  coiwtry.  It  b  situated 
betweed  33  and  S6  deg.  30  min.  n» 
latitude,  and  extends  from  the  Misab* 
sippi  to  the  western  boimdary  of  tim 
possessions  of  the  United  States.  It 
is  a  very  large  extent  of  country.  la 
the  village  of  Arkansaw,  thm  ar6 
seventeen  houses,  (dwellings)  and  thia 
is,  perhaps,  as  large  a  village  as  in  the 
territory.  From  this,  on  the  mail 
route,  we  have  to  travel  without  « 
house  or  shelter,  three  days,  to  get  to 
a  settlement,  across  a  prairie.  In 
crossing  this,  water  u  a  scarce  article^ 
In  fact,  there  is  a  great  want  of  water 
aU  overthia^  countiyi  with  v^  fear 
exceptk>ns. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


AftKAltlAW  TBlttTOiar. 


14s 


Hie  Aikaiwnr  it  a  fine  aaYigable 
river,  for  more  than  a  tboutand  miles, 
at  a  middle  ttage  of  water,  and  afibrds 
as  rich  land,  on  both  sides,  as  there  it 
Mthe  world.  In  iact,  on  all  the  riv- 
«n  is  to  be  Iband  land  abandtndy  rich 
and  ^nrtile;  andoniformly  to  befoond. 
Back  from  the  water  streams,  the  land 
is  qinte  indifferent,  yon  may  say  poor, 
till  you  go  west  two  or  d»ee  hundred 
BUM,  t£en  it  is  very  good,  llieconn- 
tiy  is  very  flat  and  1^^  from  the  Mis- 
atssippi,  west,  ibr  150  miles,  then  it 
tecomes  hiUy  and  broken,  and  rocky 
<»  all  the  hHls«  Of  animals  in  this 
omntry,  both  winged  and  quadruped, 
vve  have  no  want.  There  Is  almost 
every  species  of  the  bird  and  fowl 
in  great  abundance;  wild  geese  and 
prans,  turiues,  quails,  rabbits,  rao- 
lUKmsy  bear,  wclf,caCattount,  wild-cat, 
heaver,  otter,  dear,  elk,  and  buflaloe; 
Ihe  hnnnmaa  has  foU  scope. 

^  As  to  minerals,  we  have  pienlj  of 
iron,  lead,  coal,  salt,  &c 

**TM%  country  is  the  best  ibrrais- 
mg  stock  of  every  kind  I  have  ever 
seen.  A  man  may  raise  and  keep, 
summer  and  winter,  any  number  be 
pleases.    They  grow  laige  and  hand- 


^  Cotton  and  com  are  the  staple  ar- 
ticles. The  land,  well  tended,  will 
average,  about  one  thousand  pounds, 
in  the  seed,  to  the  acre;  com,  from 
Mty  to  siity  bushels.  The  crop  is 
good  this  year;  but  the  birds  destroy 
vast  quantities  of  the  com. 

<<I  have  spent  more  than  two 
months ona  visit  to  the  Cherokee  and 
Osage  Indians,  this  summer.  The 
aftost  of  the  rest  of  the  time  I  have 
been  sick.  The  object  of  my  visit  to 
theindiaa  villages,  was  to  setdea  dif- 
iculty  betwixt  tbem.  I  went  on  to 
the  Chetokees,  (25  miles)  and  held  a 
counsel  with  them.  They  agreed  to 
send  four  of  their  chiefs  with  me  to 
to  the  Osages,  about  350  miles  flfl^ 
4ier.  'Ihe  settlement  of  the  Cbero- 
kees  is  scattered  Ibr  a  long  eitent  on 
the  river,  and  appears  not  much  dif- 
ftfent  from  those  of  the  white  people. 


Thev  are  considerably  advanced  lo- 
wardb^vilization,  and  were  very  da- 
ceot  in  their  deportment..  Tb^  in- 
habit a  lovely,  rich  part  of  the  conn- 
try.  The  Oiage  vilbge  Is  bulk  as 
compactly  as  Borton,  in  the  centre  <d 
a  vast  prairie.  We  rode  Ibrty  mifes 
into  it  before  we  came  to  the  town. 
All  the  warriars,  chisi^  and  young 
men  met  us,  two  miles  from  the  town, 
on  horseback,  mounted  on  good  horses 
and  as  fine  as  they  had  feathers  or 
any  diing  else  to  make  them.  They 
professed  much  friendship.  Igot  them 
to  suspend  their  hostilities.  TheOsage 
town  consisted  of  145  dweHings,  with 
from  ten  to  fifteen  in  each  house,  llie 
average  height  of  the  men  is  more 
than  six  feet  They  are  entire  in  a 
state  of  nature.  Very  few  while  peo- 
ple have  ever  been  among  them.— • 
They  know  nothing  of  the  use  of 
money,  nor  do  they  use  any  ardent 


^1  pitched  my  tent  about  half  a 
mile  from  the  town,  and  stayed  five 
days.  They  made  dances  and  pUiy, 
every  night  to  amuse  me.  These  in-^ 
cfians  have  a  native  r^  ligion  of  thdr 
own,  and  are  the  only  tribe,  I  eyer ' 
knew,  that  had.  At  dav  break,  every 
morning,  I  could  hear  mem  ^prayer, 
and  cryinff  for  an  hour.  They  ap- 
peared to  be  as  devout  in  their  way 
as  any  class  of  people.  They  madie 
me  a  psesent  of  eight  horses,  when  I 
left  them. 

<^I  got  there  two  homed  frog9^ 
they  are  a  curiosity.  I  kept  one  of 
them  alive  twenty-two  days;  it  laid 
twenty-two  eggs,  as  large  and  about  the 
shape  and  appearance  of  a  large  white 
bean,  and  died.  I  have  them  all  safely 
preserved  in  spirits.  1  obtained  tlie 
skin  of  a  young  wild  hog;  this  is  a 
curiosity :  likewise  the  skin  of  a  badg- 
er. I  procured,  also,  some  salt  that 
came  from  the  salt  prairie,  which  is 
covered,  iox  many  miles,  from  four  to 
six  inches  deep,  with  pure,  white 
cbrystalized  salt  All  men  agree,  both 
white  aud  indian,  who  have  been  there, 
that  they  can  cut  and  split  off  a  piece 


144 


NOKTH  WBSTERN  BBOION. 


a  foot  tqutre.  lUi  )dace  is  about 
1300  milesy  by  tht  course  of  the  river, 
above  thb.  One  branch  of  the  Ar- 
1  kaosaw  passes  through  this  prairie, 
and  fcoinetimes  overflows  it.  When 
that  is  ^  case,  the  water  hi  the  river 
here  is  too  salt  to  drink.  There  is  a 
place  about  150  miles  from  this, 
where  the  water  gushes  out  of  a  moun- 
tain so  hot,  that  you  may  scald  and 
dress  a  hog  with  the  water  as  it  conies 
from  the  ground.  This  is  a  fact  which 
admits  of  no  doubt. 

^  David  Starret,  ikat  himfelf  m 
iiemstead  county,  in  this  territory, 
about  one  year  since ;  leaving  a  wife 
and  two  children,  and  but  very  little 
property.  He  went  by  the  name  of 
William  Fisher.  The  cause  of  shoot- 
ing himself  was  this:  He  was  engaged 
in  a  law-suit  which  involved  his  whole 
property;  and  in  order  to  save  it,  it 
became  necessary  to  send  to  Boston 
for  evidence.  This  he  found  would 
lead  to  his  true  name,  and  he  rather 
chose  to  put  an  end  to  all  at  once." 


NORTHWESTERN  REGION  OF  THE 
UNITED  STATES. 

From  the  National  loteUigencer, 

We  were  yesterday  gratified  with 
a  few  minutes  conversation  with  cap- 
tain J.  R.  Bell,  who  arrived  in  this 
city  on  Tuesday,  from  Cape  Girardeau, 
in  Missoinri,  which  place  he  left  on  the 
13th  October  last.  The  information 
derived  ftom  him  was  so  interesting 
to  us,  that  we  believe  our  readers  will 
be  pleased  with  some  account  of  it. 

Captain  Bell  was  second  in  rank 
ofanexploriug  expedition,  under  the 
command  of  major  Long,  the  objects 
of  which  were  topographical  and  sci- 
entific information  respecting  the  vast 
wilderness  of  country  which  stretches 
from  the  Council  Bluffs,  on  the  Mis- 
souri, to  the  foot  of  the  rocky  moun- 
tains, of  which  so  little  is  yet  known. 
The  expedition  being  wholly  pacific 
in  its  objects,  consists!  of  some  twenty 
soldiers  only,  and  the  following  offi- 
cers and  artists,  besides  the  two  offi- 


cers already  mentioned.  Lieutenant 
Graham,  Lieut.  Swift,  Dr.  Say,  Dr. 
Jam^,  and  Messrs.  Seymour  and 
Perfis,  designers  and  painters. 

The  expedition  sat  out  from  the 
Council  Bluf^  on  the  6th  of  June,  di^ 
reeling  their  course  first  to  the  Pawnee 
villages,  on  a  fork  of  the  La  rlatte, 
distant  about  one  hundred  and  twenty 
miles  from  the  Council  Bluffs,  and 
thence  proceeded  to  the  rocky  moun- 
tains, distant  about  four  hundred  miles 
from  the  Pawnee  villages.  The  in- 
terval is  a  rolling  prairie  country,  of 
course  destitute  of  nills  and  wood,  so 
that  the  mountains  are  visible  «it  the 
dbtance  of  one  hundred  and  twenty 
miles.  Time  has  not  yet  allowed  a 
calculation  of  the  observations,  which 
were  made  as  accoratdy  as  circuuH 
stances  would  allow,  but  it  is  suppo- 
sed the  greatest  height  of  the  ridge 
does  not  exceed  the  elevation  of  four 
thousand  feet  above  the  base  of  the 
mountain. 

The  expedition  separated  into  two 
parties,  near  the  point  of  Arkansas  de- 
signated on  the  maps  of  iHke's  Mock 
house. 

The  party,  under  the  command  of 
major  Long,  proceeded  thence  with 
a  ^ew  to  strike  the  head-waters  oi 
Red-river,  But  it  appears  the  maps 
which  we  have  are  very  defective, 
the  courses  of  the  rivers  being  almost 
wholly  conjectural,  and  often  entirely 
fabulous.  The  expedition  did  not  at- 
tain  the  object  sought,  because  it  was 
not  to  be  found  where  it  is  laid  down 
in  the  maps,  and  fell  upon  the  waters 
of  the  Canadian  fork  of  the  Arkansas, 
which  it  pursued,  and  terminated  its 
tour  at  Belle  Point  on  the  Arkansas, 
the  post  mentioned,  in  the  late  mes- 
sage of  the  president  to  Congress,  as 
bf  ing  the  advanced  post  of  our  cordon 
in  that  direction. 

The  other  party,  under  the  com- 
mand of  capt.  Bell,  proceeded  down 
the  Arkansas  to  Belle  Point,  which 
place  they  reached  on  the  9th  Septem- 
ber, after  an  absence  of  three  OKHdths 
from  the  haunts  of  dvitiaation. 


1^ 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


f3 

.1 


P 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


tents  OP  TICONDBBOaA. 


145 


Below  the  first  fork  of  the  Arkan- 
sas, as  H  was  named  by  Pike,  they  met 
Several  haotidg  parties  of  strange  In- 
dians, whose  names  even  have  rarely, 
if  ever,  been  heard  of  before,  belong- 
hig  to  the  tribes  of  the  Arrapahoes, 
the  Kaskayas,  the  Kiawas,  and  t^ 
Chayennes.  They  are  frequently,  and 
perhaps  at  present  engaged  in  war 
with  the  Pawnees,  Osages,  and  other 
tribes  of  whom  we  have  some  know- 
ledge. Of  the  Indians  met  by  our 
party,  none  have  ever  been  into  our 
settlements.  They  appeared  to  be 
wholly  ignorant  of  the  existence  of 
Sttch  a  people  as  those  of  the  United 
States,  or  indeed  of  the  existence  of 
Imy  people  of  a  fairer  complexion  than 
the  inhabitants  of  Mej(ico,  or  the  ad- 1 
jaoeot  Spanbh  provinces,  of  whom  it 
appeared  they  had  some  knowledge. 
Being  made  to  understand  the  existence 
of  such  a  government,  its  power  ^d 
hs  humane  policy,  as  exemplified  in 
Its  treatment  of  other  Indian  tribes, 
^bej  expressed  a  great  desire  to  be 
taken  by  the  hand  by  the  United  States, 
and  to  place  themselves  imder  ourpro- 
tectioD. 

The  topographers,  medical  gentle- 
Ben,  and  palmers,  attached  to  tliis 
expedition,  have  collected  abundant 
materiflb  for  correcting  some  of  the 
gross  errors  in  the  received  geography 
of  this  part  of  onr  country;  for  mak- 
ing Important  additions  to  medical 
b^any,  and  to  the  stock  of  our  geo- 
logical knowledge  of  our  own  territo- 
ry ;  and  the  painters  have  many  inter- 
esting and  valuable  sketches  of  the 
prominent  features. of  the  country. — 
Besides  possessing  the  government  of 
sach  informadoQ,  as  was  indispensable 
to  judkioas  arrangements,  for  the  sup- 
port and  protection  of  the  American 
population  penetrating  into  that  coim- 
try,  this  expedition  ought,  and  we 
hope  will,  forn)  the  subject  of  one  of 
the  most  attractive  works  ever  pub- 
lished in  die  country. 

What  struck  us  naost  impressively 
fli  this  brief  narrative  was,  that  some 
tboasMid  miles  go  this  side  of  our  crt* 


most  western  boundaiy,  or.  In  other 
words,  about  half  way  between  th# 
Mississippi  river  and  the  Pacific 
ocean,  an  exploring  party  had  met 
with  several  tribes  cS*  men,  the  abori* 
gines  and  proprietors  of  the  soil  of  tfai 
country,  who  were  ignorant,  not  only 
of  the  existence  of  the  people  of  im 
United  States,  but  of  the  existence  of 
a  race  of  white  people  I  It  give  us  aa 
awful  idea  of  the  magnificent  extent  of 
the  domahi  of  the  repubUo. 

mBmmBSBmsBssmmtmBeaamm 

HISTORICAL^ 

■  ■''■'-"■'  ■  'j^ ' 

RUINS  OF  TICONDEROGA. 

As  a  frontispiece  to  this  number, 
we  present  our  readers  with  an  en- 
graving of  ^^  the  ruins  of  Ticonderoga 
forts,  on  Lake  Champlain."  The  fol« 
lowing  is  copied  from  diat  interest* 
iag  work,  entitled  ^  Anakctic  Maga* 
zine.^  It  will  doubtless  be  peni^ 
with  pleasure  by  all  classes,  and  e»» 
pedaby  by  our  historical  and  geo- 
graphical readers* 

^  TicoxfUsaooA  is  a  name  AuDiliar 
to  the  readers  of  our  early  history^  its 
capttire  was  one  of  those  auspiaoua 
successes  which  ushered  in  the  dawn 
of  the  revoluti<Mi,  and  subsequent  events 
have  attached  to  Lake  Champlain  a 
memorable  interest,  by  the  dedsivo 
victory  of  Macdonoti^h  in  the  (ate  war. 
It  is  situated  about  fifteen  miles  south 
of  Crown  Pdnt,  and  about  thirty  north 
of  Sktenesborough  (now  Whitehall,) 
where  Wood  Creek  foils  into  Lake 
Champlain.  It  is  formed  by  a  sharp 
anffle  in  the  narrow  waters  of  the 
LuLe,  and  an  arm  of  that  Lake 
stretching  to  the  westward,  which  r^ 
ceives  the  waters  of  Lake  George,  at 
the  foot  of  a  precipitous  fall  of  about 
twenty  feet.  The  stream  which  con- 
nects these  lakes  makes  a  considerap 
ble  curvature  to  the  west,  and  hi  the 
distance  of  two  miles  tumbles  over 
successive  strata  of  rocks  about  three 
hundred  feet,  the  diflerence  of  the  le- 
vel between  the  soriaceof  Ltfke  George 


146 


ituiira  or  hoondbro^a. 


and  that  of  Lake  Champlainy  furnish- 
iog  a  vanety  of  excellent  mill  scites, 
accessible  to  the  navigable  waters  of 
Lake  George  forty  miles,  and  to  those 
of  Lake  Champlain  and  the  river  So- 
rel,  which  empties  itself  into  the  St. 
Lawrence,  about  one  hundred  and* 
thirty  miles.  From  this,  the  conse- 
quence of  the  situation  will  readily  be 
perceived, 

Ticonderoga  was  long  considered 
an  important  post,  as  ft  commanded, 
in  times  when  the  country  was  little 
explored,  and  still  less  cleared,  all  the 
passes  between  Canada  and  the  other 
provinces.  It  was  fortified  in  the 
time  of  the  French,  long  prior  to  the 
war  of  1756.  On  the  projecting  rock 
that  overhangs  the  margin  of  the  lake, 
they  established  a  barrier  post  named 
Carillon,  a  quadrangular  work,  with 
regular  bastions  of  masonry.  During 
that  war,  it  was  rendered  famous  by 
the  repulse  of  general  Abercrombie 
from  before  it,  8tb  July,  1758,  after 
having  sustained  a  loss  of  near  2000 
men  in  killed  and  wounded,  although 
he  might,  by  taking  possession  of  a 
iieighi)ourtng  height,  called  mount 
Defiance,  have  'easily  carried  the 
place. 

The  French  officer  who  command- 
ed at  Ticonderoga,  when  he  beard 
of  general  Abercrombie's  approach, 
found  it  necessary,  to  the  defence  of 
tht'  post,  to  take  possession  of  an  ele- 
vateid  ridge,  on  the  direct  route  to  it 
from  the  landing  at  lake  George, 
which,  at  less  than  half  a  mile,  entire- 
ly overlooked  the  works.  This  ridge 
is  fiat  on  the  summit,  and  extends 
westwardly  about  half  a  mile  to  the 
saw-mills,  at  the  perpendicular  fall 
before  menticmed,  where  it  terminates 
in  still  higher  ground,  called  Mount 
Hope.  On  the  south  it  presents  a 
bold  acclivity,  washed  by  the  strait, 
and  to  the  north  it  declines  until  it 
sinks  into  a  plain,  which  is  extended 
about  an  hundred  rods  to  the  shore  of 
the  lake,  where  the  bank  is  ten  or 
twelve  feet  high ;  across  the  crown  o; 
tills  ridge,  at  the  extremity  qearest 


the  fort,  the  garrison  hastily  threw^up 
an  entrenchment,  with  a  common 
ditch,  judiciously  fianked,  which  was 
strengthened  by  felling  the  forest  trees 
in  front  outwards^  and  these  they 
trimmed,  pointed,  aiid  formed  into  an 
impervious  abattis,  sixty  or  eighty  rods 
deep,  in  which  the  assailants  becmrae 
entangled,  and  were  deliberately  shot 
down,  until,  after  repeated  attempts 
during  four  hours,  in  which  the  most 
persevering  resolution  was  displayed, 
they  were  called  ofl",  and  the  army  im- 
mediately retreated  without  molesta- 
tion. On  the  approach  of  general 
Amherst  however,  in  17^99  with  a  so* 
perior  force,  Monsieur  Bourlemarque, 
the  French  commander,  retired  from 
Ticonderoga  with  his  main  body,  teav^ 
ing  a  garrison  of  four  hundred  men  to 
defend  the  forts,  and  entrenched  him- 
self on  the  opposite  side  of  the  strait, 
formed  by  Crown  Point  and  Chim» 
ney  Point.  General  Amherst  opened 
trenches  against  Carillon  the  23d  Jo* 
ly,  and  the  place  was  abandoned  and 
blown  up,  after  some  opposition,  on 
the  26th. 

At  the  peace  of  1763,  it  was  con- 
firmed to  the  British  possession,  and 
the  forts  were  repaired,  and  placed  in 
a  ppsture  of  defence.  In  pn^ress  of 
tid^e,  as  fresh  roads  and  communica- 
tions were  opened,  it  became  of  infe- 
rior consequence  as  a  pass,  on  which 
account  it  was  in  some  degree  neglect- 
ed, though  serving  as  a  nucleus  for  the 
resort  of  Indians,  whom  the  policy  of 
hostilities  might  instigate  to  take  up 
arms.  On  this  account,  it  attracted 
the  early  attention  of  the  adjacent 
states  of  Vermont  and  Connecticut,  on 
the  breaking  out  of  the  war  of  the  ro- 
volution,  and  colonel  Allen,  at  the 
head  of  two  hundred  and  thirty  ^een 
nunmtain  boys\*  as  they  were  termed^ 

*  So  called  from  their  residing  withia 
the  limits  of  the  Green  Mountains,  as  th« 
Hampshire  grants  were  denominated,  froia 
the  range  of  Green  Mountains  that  nios 
tbrou^  them — a  brave  hardy  race,  chiefly 
settlers  from  New-Uampshire,  Massachu> 
setts,  and  Connecticut.  The  territory  has 
now  the  name  of  VenDoq^QQ[^ 


1U1M9  OF  TIOONDBBOOA. 


wmM  appointed,  sooo  after  the  news  of 
the  battle  of  Lexington^  to  undertake 
tbe  r^iictjon  of  the  place.  Intelli- 
^ence,  at  to  the  state  of  the  garrison, 
was  obtained  by  means  of  an  officer 
who  disguised  himself,  and  entered 
the  fort  in  the  character  of  a  couotry- 
■MB  wanting  to  be  shaved.  Jn  search- 
ing for  a  barber,  he  observed  every 
diiog  critkaUy,  asked  a  number  of 
nistic  questions,  affected  great  igno- 
nmoe,  and  passed  unsuspected.  Be- 
foce  night  he  withdrew,  joined  his 
party,  and  at  an  early  hour  in  the 
morning,  guided  tiiem  to  the  most 
vninenible  point.  Colonel  AJlmi  ar- 
rived opposite  to  Ticonderoga  on  the 
9Ch  of  May,  1775.  Boats  were  pro- 
cored  with  difficulty,  when  he  mossed 
over  with  83  men,  and  landed  near 

\  Ifae  garrison.  The  colonel  headed, 
accompanied  by  the  officer  who  was 
to  act  as  guide,  and  entered  the  fort 
leading  to  the  works,  eafly  in  the 
normng.  A  sentry  snappy  his  piece 
9X  cokmel  Alien,  and  then  retreated 
thrcMigfa  the  covered  way  to  the  pa- 
imde,  foUowed  by  the  assailants.  Cap- 
tain De  la  Place,  the  commander  of 
the  plaoe,  was  surprised  in  his  bed. 
Colonel  Allen  demanded  the  surren- 
der of  the  keys,  and  upon  the  captain 
asking  by  what  authority^  he  replied, 
*  1  demand  them  in  the  name  of  the 
great  Jehovah  and  the  continental 
congress."  Had  the  garrison  been 
alanned    in  time,  they  could    have 

,  made  no  effectual  resistance,  as  the 
fort  was  out  of  repair,  and  the  effect- 
ives in  it  did  not  exceed  49  men.* 


**  The  prisoners  were,  the  cnptain,  lien- 
tenant,  a  goooer,  two  sergeants,  and  foKv- 
four  rank  and  (Ue,  beside  women  and  chiU 
dreo.  There  were  captured  about  120  iron 
cannon  from  6  to  24  pounders  ;  2  brass 
cannon  ;  'OO  swivels  ot  different  sizes;  2 
ten  inch  mortars ;  1  howitzer ;  1  cohom  ; 
10  tons  of  niiisket  bails ;  3  cart-loads  of 
ilnts ;  80  new  gun-carriages  ;  a  considera- 
ble quantity  of  sheHs ;  a  store- house  full  ot 
materials  to  carry  on  boat-building ;  100 
stand  of  small  arms ;  10  casks  of  powder, 
30  barrels  of  flour ;  18  bamls  of  poric>  and 
iDme  beans  and  pease. 


147 

Could  he  have  gained  timely  ilitelU* 
gence,  he  might  have  procured  a  rein- 
forcement from  Su  John's;  but  the 
coup  de  main  was  so  secretly,  and 
well  conducted,  that  not  the  remotest 
suspicion  of  the  intended  attack  was 
entertained. 

In  the  progress  of  the  war  of  the 
revolution,  we  find  Ticonderoga  occu- 
pied by  a  detachment  of  the  Ameri* 
can  army,  employed  in  improving  the 
old  French  lines,  and  erecting  new 
works  on  the  same  side  of  the  lake, 
and  also  on  Mount  Independence, 
which  is  separated  from  Ticonderoga 
by  a  strait  about  80  poles  wide.  Gen-  * 
eral  Gates  had  his  head-quarters  here, 
and  was  afterwards  succeeded  by  ma^ 
jor  general  St.  Clair.  On  tlie  ap- 
proach of  the  British  army,  under 
Ueutenant  general  Burgoyne,  m  1777% 
it  was  judged  proper  to  evacuate  the 
place,  owing  to  the  very  superior  force 
of  the  enemy,  and  the  want  of  ad** 
quate  means  of  defending  both  the 
fcMts  and  Mount  Independence,  poa- 
session  of  the  latter  being  essential  to 
the  preservation  of  the  former.  At 
that  period,  it  was  impossible  to  spare 
reinforcements,  operations  to  the  east- 
ward requiring  the  services  of  every 
individual  of  the  main  army. 

In  the  course  o(  the  war,  however, 
after  the  surrender  of  Burgoyne's  ar» 
my  at  Saratoga,  it  reverted  to  the  pos- 
session of  the  American  army. 

The  view  is  taken  from  the  cottage, 
seen  at  Latobie  point,  and  bears  • 
western  aspect.  The  foru  are  in  a 
state  o(  ruin ;  but  the  stone  walls  of 
the  barracks  are  standing,  and  from 
the  durability  of  the  ma^rials,  likely 
to  remain  in  a  state  of  good  preservap 
tion  for  a  considerable  time.  The 
officers'  wing  of  apartments,  being 
buih  of  brick,  is  dilapidated,  and  sup* 
plies  the  bouse  below  on  the  shore^ 
which  is  inhabited  by  a  farmer,  with 
building  materiab.  This  house  for- 
merly was  a  store  of  the  garrison ; 
and  a  bridge  once  stretched  across 
from  the  fort  to  the  opposite  shore. 
The  remains  of  the  b$^|^^  co  the 

)igitized  by  Vji. 


14S 


conic  AicBiTscnnx. 


taeky  iHro|eGHoo,  under  wbkh  th" 
sloop  k  leeoy  and  which  comnMUMk 
the  navignfion  of  the  lake,  are  still  ex- 
iilii^.  The  character  of  the  adjacent 
coontryy  k  will  be  Men,  is  mountain* 
nos ;  00  the  VermoDt  side  it  is  level. 
It  is  remarkably  healthy,  and  many 
of  the  inhabitants  attain  to  longevity. 
The  beanty  of  the  situation,  and  curi- 
osity, excited  by  a  recollection  of  the 
tvenU  <»  lake  Champlain,  now  peace- 
fiiily  navigated  by  the  steam-boat, 
which  carrier  passengers  at  a  very 
moderate  rate,  contribute  to  attract 
the  resort  of  numerous  travellers  in 
the  summer  season,  and  to  attach 
something  more  than  an  ordinary  in- 
terest to  the  scene  represented. 


ON  GOTHIC  ARCHTTKCTURE. 

The  cathedral  of  Strasburg,  as  Dr. 
Moore  remadu,  is  a  very  fine  build- 
ing, and  never  fails  to  attract  the  at- 
tention of  s^mgers. 

Our  gothic  ancestors,  like  the  Greeks 
and  Iu>mans,  built  for  posterity. — 
Their  ideas  of  architecture,  though 
diferent  from  those  of  the  Grecian 
artists,  were  vast,  sublime,  and  gene- 
rous, (9jr  superior  to  the  selfish  snug- 
ness  of  modem  taste,  which  u  gene- 
rally confined  to  one  or  two  genera- 
tions ;  the  plans  of  our  ancestors  with 
a  more  extensive  benevolence  embrace 
different  ages.  Many  gothic  buildings 
still  habitable,  evince  this,  and  ought 
to  inspu€  sentiments  of  gratitude  to 
those  who  have  not  gmd^  such  la- 
bour and  expense  for  the  acconunoda- 
tton  of  their  remote  posterity. 

The  number  and  mc^tude  of  goth- 
ic churches,  in  the  difl^rent  countries 
of  Europe,  form  a  presumption,  that 
the  dergy  were  not  devoid  of  public 
spirit  in  those  days;  for,  if  the  pow- 
oful  ecclesiastics  had  been  entirely 
actuated  by  motives  of  self4ntere8t, 
they  would  have  turned  the  excessive 
influence  which  they  had  acquired 
over  the  minds  of  their  fellow  citizens, 
to  purposes  more  immediately  advan- 
tageous to  themselves;  instead  of  en- 


ouraffing  them  to  raise 
churches  for  the  use  of  the  pobli^ 
they  might  have  preached  it  up  as  still 
nore  meritorious  to  build  fine  houses 
^nd  palaces  for  the  immediate servanis 
of  God. 

So  species  of  architecture  b  bettnr 
contrived  for  the  dwelling  of  Ae^ven^ 
peruive  comUmplationy  than  the  gotb- 
ic ;  it  has  a  powerful  tendency  to  fill 
the  mind  with  sublime,  solemn,  and 
religious  sentiments.  The  antiquitjr 
of  the  gothic  churches  contributes  to 
increase  that  veneration  which  their 
form  and  sise  inspire. 

The  religious  melancholy  whiclk 
usually  possesses  the  mind  in  laiige 
gothic  churches,  b  cSonsiderably  coun- 
teracted by  certain  satirical  bas  re- 
liefs, with  which  the  pillars  and  cor- 
nices of  this  church  of  Strasburg  wai 
oriffinally  emameated. 

The  vices  of  monks  are  here  expoa* 
ed  under  the  allegorical  figures  of 
hogs,  apes,  monkeys,  and  foxes,  whioli 
being  dressed  in  monkbh  habits,  per- 
form the  most  venerable  fmictiona  of 
religion.  And  for  the  edification  oC 
those  who  do  not  comprehend  alleges 
ry,  a  monk  in  the  robes  of  Ins  order 
is  engraved  on  the  pulpit  in  a  most 
indecent  posture,  with  a  nun  ^ng  bjr 
him. 

Upon  the  whole,  the  cathedral  pf 
Strasburg  b  considmd  by  some  peo- 
ple, as  the  most  impious,  and  1^ 
others,  as  the  merriest  gothic  churdi 
in  Christendom.  The  doctor  had  the 
curiosity  to  ascend  the  steqple  of  thb 
cathedral,  which  b  reckoned  one  of 
the  highest  in  £urq)e,  its  height  being 
574  feet. 

Among  the  curiosities  of  the  cathe* 
dral,  the  doctor  mentions  two  lai;ge 
beUs,  which  they  show  to  strangers^ 
one  b  of  brass,  and  weighs  ten  tons ; 
the  other  of  silver,  wluch  they  say 
weighs  above  two.  They  also  show 
a  large  French  horn,  whose  history 
b  as  follows:  About  four  hundred 
years  ago,  the  Jews  formed  a  conspi* 
racy  to  betray  the  city,  and  with  thb 
identical  homi  they  intended  togiva 

Digitized  by  VjOOQ iC 


All  onniTAt  ui^ 


149 


to  begin  the  | 
«ttack.  "The  plot,  boweven  Vfu  dit- 
coveved,  and  maBT  of  the  Jewi  were 
boffoed  aiive^  and  the  lest  were  dun- 
<lered  of  their  effects,  and  baniihed 
the  town.  And  this  horn  is  sounded 
twke  every  night  from  the  battlements 
of  the  steq>le,  in  gratitude  lor  the  de- 
Uveraooe. 

The  Jews  deny  every  circumstance 
of  this  story,  except  the  murdering 
and  pUlaging  their  countrymen*  They 
sny  the  whde  story  was  fabricated  to 
ftniish  a  preteitfor  these  robberies 
and  murders;  and  assert,  that  the 
steeple  of  Scrasburg,  as  has  beoi  said 
cf  the  monument  <rf  London : 

«<IAeatdlbany,  IMbup  itobeadaodBes." 


T£MFL£  OP  DIANA  AT  EPHESUS. 

TUs  aslonishii^  ten^  was  425 
feet  kmg,  and  220  broad,  k  was  a- 
darned  oA  the  out  and  insides,  with 
137  cahmns  of  mast  ezouisite  niar> 
ye,  60  leet  m  height,  of  which  86  had 
oraaments  of  basso  relievo.  All  Asia 
was  employed  in  buiMiag  of  tUs  tem- 
ple for  220  years. 

it  was  raised  on  a  marshy  ground 
at  a  great  expense,  to  secure  it  iroro 
eart^iuakies.  Thename  of  the  archi- 
tect was  Chersmhron.  The  beams  and 
doovs  were  cedar,  the  rest  of  the  tim- 
ber cypress^  A  staircase  made  of  the 
wood  of  Cyprus  vines,  kd  up  to  the 
trmple.  The  form  of  it  w^  oblong, 
and  the  lengdi  was  twice  its  breadth. 

The  most  ftunous  statues  of  this 
temple,  were  the  workmanship  of  Prax- 
iteles, and  the  paintings  of  Thraso. 
Herosbatns,  to  perpetuate  his  memo- 
xy,  set  ire  to  thb  temple,  the  same 
itaj  in  which  Alexander  the  Great  was 
hoffn9vk.A.ic.3549. 


COVETOUSNESS. 

Valerius  Masimus  tells  us,  that,  when 
Harniibnl  had   besi^ed  Cassilinuro, 
1  the  garrison,  for  want  of 


food,  to  ilm  last  extremity,  a  sohSer 
happened  to  catch  a  mouse,  and  his 
oovetousness  exceeding  his  hunger,  Jie 
sold  it  to  one  of  his  comrades  for  more 
than  eleven  shillings  sterUng;  hut  it 
proved  a  very  fatal  bargain  to  him, 
for  he  that  bought  the  mouse  saved 
his  lifo  by  the  purchase,  and  he  >thal 
sold  it  died  of  fomine* 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


AN  INTERESTING  ORIENTAL  TALE. 
(Oontbmed  from  pt^  II5L) 

In  these  happy  moments  itis  eas^ 
to  conceive  what  trannMNts  of  joy 
were  feb  both  by  the  fotber  and  son : 
after  a  thousand  tendar  embraces  Liu^ 
forcing  himself  from  the  anns  d'his 
son,  went  and  threw  himsetf  at  the 
feetofTchin:  how  much  am  I  obliged 
to  you,  said  he,  for  taking  him  inta 
your  house,  and  bringing  up  with  sa 
much  goodness  this  dear  part  of  my- 
self!  Without  you  we  might  never 
hi^ve  been  reunited. 

My  amiabie  benefactor,  replied 
TcUn,  Bftinr  him  up,  'tis  this  gene- 
rous act  of  vurtue  in  restoring  the  two 
hundred  taek  which  has  moved  the 
compassion  of  Heaven  i  'tis  Heaven 
itself  that  has  conducted  you  hither, 
whoe  you  have  recovered  what  you 
lost,  and  have  vainly  sought  so  many 
years5  now  I  know  that  this  lovdy 
boy  belongs  to  you,  I  am  uneasy  that 
I  did  not  use  him  with  greater  friend- 
sfatp. 

Prostrate  yourself  my  son,  said  Lhi, 
and  showyour  gratitudte  to  your  bene- 
factor. Tchin  put  himself  in  a  pos- 
ture to'  return  w  compliments  that 
were  made ;  but  Liu,  in  confosion  for 
this  excess  of  civility,  immediately  ap- 
(Broached  him,  and  prevented  his  pur- 
pose. These  ceremonies  being  at  an 
end  they  sat  down  again,  and  Tcbia 
placed  young  Hieul  on  a  seat  near  his 
father. 

Then  Tchin  began  to  speek :  my 
brother,  said  he  pyXw^f^  it  is  a 

3igitized  by 


&50 


AM  OMkSNTAL  TALE. 


fiame  I  shall  ^ve  ydu  henceforward, 
I  have  a  daughter  almost  thirteen,  my 
design  is  to  give  her  in  marriage  to 
your  son  diat  we  may  be  more  firmly 
united  by  this  alliance :  this  proposal 
was  made  wfth  such  an  air  of  sincerity, 
that  Liu  did  not  think  it  necessaiy  to 
make  the  osual  compliments  which 
civility  requires^  he  therefore  got  over 
them,  and  immediately  gave  his  con- 
sent. 

As  it  was  late  they  parted,  Hieul 
went  to  rest  in  the  same  room  with  hi9 
father,  and  one  may  judge  with  how 
much  tenderness  they  passed  the  night. 
The  next  day,  Liu  tlKNight  of  taking 
leave  of  his  host,  but  could  not  re- 
sist Iris  earnest  persuasions  to  stay: 
T^n  had  preparad  a  second  feast, 
wherein  he  mared  nodiing  to  regale 
the  intended  mther  in  law  of  his  daugh- 
ter and  new  son  in  law,  to  comfort 
them  at  their  departure ;  they  drank 
large  draughts^  and  gave  thonsdves 
up  to  joy. 

Towwis  the  end  of  the  repast 
Tchln  took  a  purse  of  twenty  taeis, 
and  looking  upon  Liu^  my  amiable 
son  in  law,  said  he,  durii^  the  time  he 
has  been  with  me  may  have  suffered 
something  contrary  to  my  intention 
and  my  luowledge,  here  is  a  little  pre- 
sent for  him  till  I  can  give  more  sub- 
stantial testimonies  of  my  tender  af- 
fection, and  I  would  not  by  any  means 
have  him  refuse  it. 

How!  replied  Liu,wi]en  I  contract 
so  honourable  an  alliance,  and  ought, 
according  to  custom,  to  make  mar- 
riage-presents myself,  and  only  defer 
it  for  a  while  because  I  am  on  a  jour- 
ney, must  you  load  me  with  gifts  ?  It 
is  too  much,  i  cannot  accept  of  them ; 
this  would  cover  me  with  confusion. 

Alas !  who  thought,  said  Tchin,  of 
offering  you  so  small  a  matter?  It  is 
tp  mv  son  in  law,  and  not  to  you,  that 
I  make  this  little  present ;  in  short,  if 
you  persist  in  the  refusal  it  will  be  to 
me  a  certain  sign  that  my  alHance  is 
not  agreeable. 

Liu  saw  very  well  that  he  must 
4:omply,  and  that  resistance  was  use- 


less; he  therefore  humbly  accepted 
the  present,  and  making  his  son  rise 
from  the  table,  ordeied  him  to  make 
a  profound  reverence  to  Tchin.  That 
wliich  I  give  yoii^  said  Tchin^  raising 
him  up,  is  but  a  trifle,  and  deserves 
no  thanks.  Hieul  then  went  into  the 
inward  part  of  the  house  to  return  his 
mother  in  law  thanks.  The  whole 
day  was  spent  in  feast  and  diversions, 
which  were  not  ended  till  the  ap- 
proach of  night. 

Liu,  being  retired  to  his  chamber^ 
gave  lu'mself  up  to  reflections  on  this 
strange  event :  it  must  be  owned,  cri- 
ed he,  that  in  restoring  the  two  hon- 
dred  taels  that  I  found,  I  did  an  action 
agreeable  to  Heaven,  since  I  am  re- 
warded by  the  happiness  o(  fiudiiig 
my  son,  and  contracting  so  honourable 
an  alliance;  this  is  happiness  upon 
happiness,  and  is  like  working  flow- 
ers of  gold  upon  a  piece  of  b^tiful 
silk :  how  can  I  show  my  gratitude  for 
so  many  favours  ?•  Here  are  twenty 
taels  that  Tchin  has  given  to  my  son  ; 
can  I  do  better  than  to  lay  them  oat 
for  the  subsistence  of  virtuous  booses  ? 
this  will  be  like  scattering  blessing 
upon  the  earth. 

The  next  day,  after  breakfast,  the 
father  and  son  made  ready  their  bag* 
gage,  and  took  leave  of  their  hostf 
they  went  to  the  port  and  hired  a 
bark,  but  hardly  had  they  sailed  half 
a  league  before  they  came  to  a  place 
iu  the  river  whence  arose  a  confused 
noise,  and  the  water  seemed  in  great 
agitation;  it  was  a  bark  laden  witb 
passengers  that  was  sinking;  they 
heard  the  poor  wretches  cry  out  for 
help;  and  the  people  On  the  bank, 
planned  with  the  sight,  called  to  seve* 
ral  small  harks  to  go  to  their  assist<^ 
ance ;  but  t.w  watermen,  being  a  kind 
of  hard-hearted  people,  required  the 
assurance  of  a  good  reward  before 
they  would  give  any. 

During  this  debate  Lui  and  hb  baiic 
arrived;  when  he  understood  what 
was  the  matter,  said  hev  within  him- 
!idi\  to  save  a  man^s  life  is  much  more 
meritoRous  than  to  adorn  temploi  and 


AN  ORItNTAl*.  TAUB. 


IM 


laahituii  booses;  let  as  consecrate 
the  twenty  taels  to  this  good  w<H'ky 
and  saceour  these  poor  wretches  who 
•re  nkely  to  perish ;  at  the  same  in- 
stant he  declared  that  he  would  give 
twenty  taels  among  those  who  should 
save  io  their  barks  these  half  drowned 
prople. 

No  sooner  was  this  offer  made  but 
the  watermep  covered  the  river  in  a 
moment ;  even  some  of  the  spectators 
who  stood  upon  the  bank,  and  were 
skilled  in  swimming,  threw  themselves 
precipitately  into  the  water;  and  in  a 
few  minutes  they  were  ril  brought  safe 
to  land.  Lauy  greatly  pleased  wkh 
the  success,  immediately  gave  the 
promised  reward. 

These  poor  people  taken  out  of  the 
water^and  from  the  gates  of  death, 
came  to  return  thanks  to  their  deliv- 
erer; one  of  the  company,  surveying 
Ua  more  attentively,  suddenly  cried 
out,  How !  b  it  you  my  elder  brother  ? 
by  what  good  fortune  do  I  meet  yon 
hiere?  Liu,  turning  about,  knew  hb 
diird  brother  Liu  Tchin,  and  was  so 
transported  with  joy  that  he  was  quite 
ID  a  raptare,  and  joining  his  hands 
together,  O  wonderfiil!  said  he,  Uea- 
veo  has  conducted  me  hither  at  thb 
critical  moment  to  save  my  brothers 
life  !•  after  which  he  lent  him  his  hand, 
embraced  him,  helped  him  into  the 
baik,  assbted  him  to  take  off  hb  wet 
garmentiy  and  gave  him  others. 

Liu  Tchin,  being  coaie  to  himself, 
performed  all  the  duties  that  custom 
requires  from  a  younger  brother;  and 
die  elder  having  made  a  proper«retum, 
called  Hieol,  who  vas  hi  one  of  the 
soonu  of  the  bark,  to  come  and  salute 
hb  uncle ;  thm  he  related  all  hb  ad- 
ventures, which  filled  Liu  Tchin  with 
araasement,  from  which  he  did  not 
soon  recover:  But  let  me  know,  said 
Liu,  what  could  bring  you  into  thb 
part  of  the  country  ? 

It  b  not  possible,  said  Liu  Tchin  to 
tell  you  in  a  few  words  the  cause  of 
my  journey:  When  you  had  been 
thre^jears  absent  from  your  house 
weafinews  that  you  died  of  a  dis- 


ease in  the  piovlnoe  of  Chan  Si;  mv 
second  brother,  as  head  of  the  fan»* 
ly  in  your  absence,  made  an  inquiry^ 
and  assured  us  that  it  was  true ;  thb 
was  like  a  cbp  of  thunder  to  my  sla- 
ter in  law,  who  was  ii|consolable,  and 
went  in  d^p  mourning ;  as  for  myself, 
I  constantly  aflkmed  that  the  news 
was  not  certain,  and  that  I  believed 
nothing  of  it. 

A  few  days  ailer,  ray  second  brother 
pressed  my  sister  in  law  to  think  of  9. 
new  marriage,  but  she  always  reject 
the  proposition ;  in  short  she  engaged 
me  to  undertake  a  journey  into  Chan 
Si,  to  ittf<Mrm  myself  upon  the  spot 
coQcemif^  your  affairs;  and  when  I 
least  thought  of  it,  being  ready  to  per- 
ish in  the  waves,  I  met  with  my  dear 
brother  who  saved  my  life :  this  pro- 
tection of  Heaven  is  so  truly  wonder- 
ful; but,  my  brother,  believe  me  there 
is  no  time  to  be  lost;  make  what  haste 
you  can  to  your  house  to  roidgate  the 
sorrows  of  my  sbter  in  law,  who  un- 
dergoes too  violent  a  persecution ;  and 
the  least  dday  may  cause  mbfortunes 
that  are  not  to  be  remedied. 

Liu  was  in  great  consternation  at 
this  recital,  and  sending  for  the  mas- 
ter of  the  bark,  though  it  was  late^ 
gave  him  orders  to  set  sail  and  pro- 
ceed on  hb  voyage  all  the  night. 

While  Liu  met  with  these  adven- 
tures, Ouang  hb  wife  was  ia  the  ut- 
most distress ;  a  thousand  reasons  pre- 
vailed upon  her  not  to  believe  her  hus- 
band was  dead ;  but  Liu  Pao,  who  by 
thb  pretended  death  became  master  oif 
the  hou§e,  affirmed  it  so  positively  that 
at  length  she  seemed  convinced,  and 
went  into  mourning. 

Liu  Pao  had  a  wicked  heart,  and 
was  capable  of  the  most  dbhonourable 
actions:  I  make  no  doubt,  said  he, 
but  my  eldest  brother  b  dead,  and  I 
am  become  master.  My  sister  in  law 
is  young,  handsome,  and  well  made, 
her  relations  live  at  a  distan^  and 
she  cannot  readily  procure  theii^|ssist- 
ance:  I  will  force  her  to  marry  again 
as  soon  as  possiUe,  by  whidu  means 


152 


AH  (MtHNTAt  fAfife. 


He  eomnraneatMl  Us  litMitioiii  to 
Us  wife  Yangy  and  ordered  her  to 
mnphy  a  skil^  iiuurriagt»-broker)  but 
Oaang  refjwed  to  hearken  td  the  pro- 
poritioa;  she  swore  she  would  conti* 
ime  a  widow,  and  honour,  by  her  wi- 
dowhood, the  memory  of  her  httsband. 
Her  brother  in  law,  Lhi  Tehin,  con- 
irmed  her  in  this  resolution ;  insomoeh 
that  all  the  artifices  they  coald  make 
use  of  had  no  success.    She  could  not 

ait  out  of  her  mind  but  that  her 
kmnd  ^ras  sdH  living,  and  deshred 
to  be  siKdsfied  about  it.  Reports,  said 
die,  are  often  felse,  and  without  send- 
ing to  the  place  it  is  impossible  to  be 
AiUy certain:  the  journey  indeed  is 
long,  at  least  two  haadred  leagues; 
but  what  then,  1  know  the  good  dis- 
position of  my  brother  Liu  Tchin;  I 
ahould  be  glad  if  he  would  go  into  the 
province  (rf*  Chan  Si,  and  inform  him- 
sdf  of  the  truth ;  and  if  I  have  been 
so  unfortunate  as  to  lose  mv  husband, 
he  will  at  least  bring  back  lus  pre- 
fdons  remains. 

Liu  Tchin  was  desired  to  undertake 
this  journey,  and  he  accordingly  de- 
parted ;  his  absence  rendered  Lm  Pao 
■tore  ardent  in  bis  pursuits;  besides 
having  for  some  dajrs  past  had  ill  suc- 
cess at  gaming,  he  coqld  not  tell  where 
to  get  money  to  try  to  recover  his 
losm:  III  the  strait  that  he  wasin,he 
BMt  wit^  a  merchant  of  Kiang  Si, 
who  had  just  lost  his  wifo,  and  was 
looking  for  another.  Liu  Pao  laid 
bold  of  the  opportunity,  and  proposed 
his  sister  in  law;  the  mp^hant  agreed 
to  the  proposal,  but  not  without  taking 
the  precaution  to  i|iform  himself,  whe- 
ther she  was  young  and  handsome; 
and  as  soon  as  lie  li^w  the  certainty, 
he  lost  no  time,  and  paid  twenty  taeis 
to  ooDclttde  the  aflmr. 

(Jo  be  eoDcladed  ia  our  of  it.) 


THE  MAN  OF  MT  CHOICE. 

My  studies  this  evening  a0brd  me 
a  character,  which  I  am  confident  the 
ladies  wiUadmiye;  end  I  theiefore 


hope  the  sigUi^  StrepboBs  wK  t&^ 
deavoor  to  imitate  It. 

A  lady,  upon  being  replroadied  with 
hnensibUity,  and  an  unnatural  cfM^ 
ness  of  disposition,  made  the  following^ 
reply.  It  may  be  added,  that  tte 
origaal  Is  in  the  French  hmginige. 

The  austere  coldness  and  insensi* 
bifity  you  reprtwch  me  ti^ith,  lind  per- 
haps think  a  cone^tutic^  defect,  ii 
neither  die  effect  of  prudeiy,  nor  tte 
mdancholy  scruples  tsf  a  silly  girL 
Believe  me  above  such  little  motvres 
of  actioti;  b^eve  that  my  Mood  oP 
ted  eircuhktd^^widi  rapidHy;  believef 
that  I  know  there  is  but  one  spring  kji 
the  year  of  Bfe,  andthat  love  is  cdtah* 
bined  with  and  attached  to  humanity  | 
nay,  I  wHI  even  permit  you  to  believe  ' 
that  Cupid,  In  certain  attire,  Jbas  ai^ 
many  cnanns  in  my  eyes  as  In  thos^ 
of  the  rest  of  my  sex;  yet,  after  all 
these  confessions,  which  I  make  vHth 
pleasure  and  openness,  as  artifice  and 
disguise  are  only  the  refiige  of  IMe 
minds,  for  which  I  have  no  occasion^ 
I  teU  you,  that,  as  much,  as  I  honour 
love,  I  dCMspise  lovers,  add  detest  theh' 
perfidious  flames,  theh*  decdtfol  drts^ 
with  their  false  vows,  atai!  often  but 
too  much  credited  by  our  amhdile  and 
credulous  sex,  merely  because  thejr 
ieel  no  trace  of  such  perfidy  in  tbeir 
own  gentle  bosoms. 

But  if  you  wpttld  see  my  frigid  sys- 
tem vanish  into  air,  let  fortune  thro^ 
into  my  way  sudi  a  man,  as  my  im^ 
gination  sometimes  creates,  and  whooi 
I  am  afiuld  is  only  to  be  found  there; 
however,  take  my  flMStil  jMcture  of  ^ 
him. 

He  nmst  have  a  gentle,  though  lively 
I  temper,  to  hide  a  stros|^  and  masca- 
Ime  nund. 

His  ex)M!essions  of  attach inent  muMf 
neither  be  dictatM  I7  avarice  or  van* 
ity,  but  proceed  dhreetly  from  a  fM* 
iqg  heart 

He  must  be  -well  informed  ^hout 
pretefisioiis,  serious  without  mdan* 
choly,  free  without  licentiousness,  amJL 
in  shfnrt,  carry  nothing  to  exoMI  but 
love  and  prudence  j  nayi 


iteanLLA]QeoD9» 


ifit 


all  ms^nMf  and  adoie^-oniy 


He  iiNMt  hide  hi*  pasiion  id  public^ 
at  I  desire  no  other  proofs  of  h  there, 
but  a  passiag  jlailoe  to  convey  the 
feelmgt  of  \m  heart,  which  nobody 
■UBt  obsmre  bat  myself. 

In  private  he  may  make  m  for 
public  itttraiat,  by  breathing  a  chaste 
aad  driicate  pasMon ;  and,  if  be  morit 
It^  he  BMiy  probably  hear  of  a  recipro- 
e^  flame,  pure  as  the  love  that  fans  it. 

To  rewter  this  union  of  heart  more 
darable,  he  mast  be  niv  guide,  ay 


friead,  my  counseflor,  Ad  my  lover, 
ao  thai  whea  jiear  him,  my  mind  may 

k       iranre  devatfam  atid  grandeur. 

^  YeS)  I  coaiess  it,  should  fortune 

ArowsQch  a  man  in  my  way,  my 
coldness  woald   vanish  at  'bis   ap- 

i  pvoadi^  like  saow  in  auaahiHe,  and  i 
would  accompmy  his  footsteps  at  all 
times,  and  in  all  places ;  but  whether 
ID  a  cottage  ora  palace,  1  would  never 
ddgn  to  bestow  a  thought. 

lUl  that  idol  of  my  heart  and  miad 
be  realized,  I  desire  not  to  please, 
aad  shall  parsevere  in  my  coldness, 
^  which  never  cost  me  an  effort. 

The  croup  of  admirers,  whom  my 
feeble  charms  attract,  are  not  flatter- 
ing to  me;  I  despise  their  sentiments, 
with  their  little  arts  to  please,  and 
yawn  at  thdr  incense. 

Let  them  seek  the  weak  and  the 
vain,  who  will  listen  to  their  sighs 
and  sufferings :  the  zephyr  bends  the 
reed,  but  lun  no  effect  on  the  sturdy 


MAXIMS  FOR  PROMOTING  MATRI- 
MON^  HAPPINESS. 

The  most  nkely  way,  either  to  ob- 
tain a  good  husband,  or  to  keep  one 
ao,  b  to  be  good  yourself. 

Avoid,  tMth  before  and  after  mar- 
riage, all  thoughts  of  managing  your 
bosband.  Never  endeavour  to  deceive 
or  impose  on  his  understanding,  nor 
give  him  uneasiness  (as  some  do,  ve- 
nr lytfishly  to  try  his  temper^;  but 
4|Hph  always,    beforehana  with 


sincerity,  aad  afterwaids  wlA  aHec- 
tion  and  respect. 

Resolve  every  morning  to  be  cheer- 
ful and  good  natured  that  day:  and 
if  accident  should  happen  to  bleak 
that  resolotioo,  sufler  it  not  to  pat 
you  out  of  temper  with  every  thing 
besides;  and  especially  with  your 
husband* 

Be  assured  a  woman*s  power,  i)9 
wdl  ^  happiness,  has  no  other  found- 
Btian  but  her  husband's  esteem  aad 
love;  which  consequently,  it  is  her 
undoubted  interest  by  all  means  pos- 
sible to  preserve  and  increase.  Do 
you,  therefore,  study  his  temper,  and 
command  your  own ;  epjoy  bis  satis* 
faction  with  him,  share  and  sooth  his 
cares,  and  with  the  utmost  dMigenpe 
conceal  his  infirmities. 

Read  frequently,  with  due  attention, 
the  matrimonial  service,  and  take  care, 
in  doing  so,  not  to  overlook  the  word 
o6cy. 

Always  wear  your  wedding  ring; 
for  therein  lies  more  virtue,  than  is 
generally  imagined:  if  you  are  ruffled 
unawares,  assaulted  with  improper 
thoughts,  or  tempted  in  any  kind  a- 
gainst  your  duty,  cast  your  eyes  upon 
it,  and  call  to  mind  who  gave  it  you, 
where  it  was  received,  and  what  pass- 
ed at  that  solemn  time* 

Let  the  tenderness  of  your  conjugal 
love  be  expressed  with  such  decency, 
delicacy,  and  prudence,  as  that  it  may 
appear  plainly,  and  thoroughly  dis- 
tinct from  the  designing  fondness  of  a 
harlot. 


/S  PRUDENT  HINT  TO  YOUNG  LA- 

DIES. 
-  When  I  was  a  voung  man  I  often 
visited  a  distant  relation  whom  I  much 
loved,  and  to  whom  I  and  my  famij^y 
had  been  much  obliged.  This  gen- 
tleman had  nine  ameable,  nay,  beau* 
tiful  daughters,  who  had  oAen  enter- 
tained roe  with  the  slip-slop*  conver- 
sation of  a  rich,  but  low,  unbred  wo^ 
man,  their  neighbour,  whose  husband 
II  being  appointed  high  sheriff,   occa^ 

|-  Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


154 


MlSCELLANXOUr. 


sioned  ber  to  talk  much  to  these  ladies 
about  the  i(rand  siteriff  ditmer  sh** 
was  to  give :  I  am  determined  (said 
she)  to  have  no  custards ;  for  if  I  have 
custards,  I  must  have  cheesecakes; 
and  if  I  have  cheesecakes,  I  must 
have  jellies ;  if  jellies,  fruit,  &c. 

As  1  usually  spent  ray  Christmas 
at  the  country  seat  of  this  friend  with 
his  lovely  family,  there  sometimes 
arose  a  kind  of  merriment,  called 
Christmas  gambols,  questions  and 
commands,  &c.  Now  these  innocent 
sports  led  the  gentlemen  sometimes 
to  salute  the  young  ladies  all  around ; 
a  pleasure  in  which  I  alone,  who  per- 
haps loved  them  best,  always  declined 
partaking.  This  shyness  in  me  seem- 
ed so  unaccountable  to  them,  that  they 
one  and  all  seized  an  occasion  to  rally 
me  for  possessing  a  mauvaise  honu , 
so  contrary  to  the  etiquette  at  that 
time  of  tKe  year.  I  confessed  the  force 
of  the  charge,  andtully  acknowledged 
my  guilt;  adding,  that  the  only  excuse 
I  could  offer  was — that  if  I  had  cust- 
ardi^  I  must  have  cheesecakes;  if 
cheesecakes,  jellies ;  if  jellies,  fruits; 
and  if  in  short,  before  1  had  half 
done  with  my  (/»,  they  all  ran  away, 
and  left  me  in  the  field  of  battle,  and 
ncv(T  rallied  to  make  an  attack  on  me 
again.    * 


FROM   TUE    PROVIDE5rK    GAZETTE. 

RESUSCI I  ATION. 
That  the  mysterious  union  subsist- 
ing between  the  body  and  spirit,  dis- 
solved, can  ever  be  restored,  except 
by  supernatural  a^'cricy,  is  not  to  be 
supposed,  as  it  is  in  direct  contrariety 
to  reason  and  revelation.  Yet  incon- 
testible  evidence  is  offered  in  confir- 
matitm  of  the  supposition,  that  reaui- 
mation  may  take  place,  after  life,  bo 
far  as  ^  human  ken  can  reach,'!^  ^ 


tovanimate  the  body.     A  Uf%^  ^foitPdward. 


which  occurred  a  few  days  sii.ce,  m 
this  towit^-as  it  affords  another,  in  ad- 
dition to  i  the  nunieiuus  instances  of 
resuscitation^  may  not  be  wholly  unin- 
teresting;.   A  squirrel  of  the  coounon 


striped  kind,  kept  for  die  anatemenf 
oi  children,  was  discovered  in  the 
morning  to  be  apparently  dead.  The 
idea  of  resuscitatiou  occurred,  without 
the  most  distant  prospect  of  success, 
however,  as  the  squirrel  was  already 
cold  and  stiff,  and  life  to  all  appear- 
ance had  been  extinct  for  hours.  The 
experiment  was  made  by  pkciog  one 
end  of  a  rye  straw  into  the  mouth  of 
the  animal,  and  blowing  through  it, 
taking  care  to  k<^p  the  sides  of  the 
niootli  closed,  that  the  air  might  not 
escape.  When  the  lungs  became  in- 
flated, the  aiAhas  confined  was  pres»- 
ed  out,  and  fne  operation  repeated, 
until  after  a  repetition  of  the  process 
five  or  six  times,  the  squirrel  became 
enabled  to  exhale  the  air  himself;  al- 
though be  was  unable  to  inhale  it,  or 
exhibit  any  signs  of  life  by  motioiu 
Shortly,  however,  by  continuii^  the 
process  of  inflating  the  lungs,  the  joints 
became  limber,  and  in  the  chest  a  mo- 
tion, not  unlike  the  rise  and  &11  of  m 
pair  of  bellows,  was  discpvered.  Sooa 
the  aninHil  became  sufficiemly  acdve 
to  walk,  and  to  swallow/ood  given  it^ 
thus  exhibiting  an  instance  of  resusci- 
tation, which,  although  .the  subject 
was  a  brute,  ought  to  induce  persons 
to  make  the  experiment  more  fre- 
quently than  thev  do,  particularly  m 
drowning,  and  other  sudden  exits. 

XXPCUMKNTOIU 


FROM   8U,LIIIAS*S  TOVE. 

MISS  M^CRPA.  ^ 
The  story  of  this  unfortunate  junii^ 


lady  is  well  known,  nor  should  nnen- 
tion  it  now,  but  for  the  fact  that  the 
place  of  her  murder  wu«-f$ointed  out 
to  us  near  Fort  Edwtfrar 

W  e  s^vf  and  conversed  with  a  per- 
o^  j^  IfS^  was  acquainted  with  her  fti- 
i<r^1^y:they  resided  m  the  village  of 


It  seenks  she  was  betrothed  ton 
Mr.  Jones,  an  American  refugee,  who 
was  with  Durgoyne,  and  being  anxi- 
ous to  obtain  possession  of  his  exnect- 
ied  ^ide^  he  despatched  a  paittnil^ 

Digitized  by  GOOgleW' 


J«»cnXANKdl7». 


155 


ifittM  to  escort  her  to  the  BritUh  ar- 
mj*  Where  were  his  afiectioo  and 
lib  gallantry,  that  he  did  ootgo  bini' 
ueMj  or,  at  least,  that  he  did  not  apcoin- 
paay  ius  savage  emissaries  ? 

Sorely  against  the  advice  and  re> 
iDOOstrances  of  her  friends^  fkhe  com- 
mitted herself  to  these  fiends;  sUange 
infatuation  in  her  lover,  to  solicit  such 
confidence :  stranger  presumption  in 
htfT,  to  yield  to  bis  wishes ;  what  treat- 
ment bad  she  a  rignt  to  expect  from 
sucli  guardians  \ 

The  party  set  forward,  and  she  on 
horseback:  they  had  proceeded  not 
more  ihan  a  mile  from  r  ort  Edward, 
when  they  arrived  at  a  spring  and 
halted  to  drink.  The  impatient  k>ver, 
had,  in  the  mean  time,  despatched  a 
second  party  of  Indians  on  the  same 
arrand;  they  came,  at  the  unfortunate 
moment,  to  the  same  spring,  aod  a 
collision  immediately  ensued  respect- 
ing the  promised  reward.  [A  barrel 
<ifnHu.] 

Both  parties  were  now  attacked  by 
the  whites,  and  at  the  end  of  the  con- 
flict, the  unhappy  young  woman  was 
found  tomahawked,  scalped  and  (it  is 
said)  tied  fast  to  a  pine  tree  just  by 
the  spring.  Tradition  reports  that  the 
Indians  divided  the  scalp,  and  tliat 
each  party  carried  half  of  it  to  the 
agonized  lover. 

This  beautiful  spring,  which  still 
flows  limped  and  real  from  a  bank 
near  the  road  side,  and  this  fatal  tree, 
we  saw.  The  tree,  which  is  a  large 
and  ancient  pine,  <^  fit  for  the  mast  of 
some  tall  admiral,^'  wounded  in  many 
places  by  the  balls  of  the  whiles,  fired 
at  the  Indians;  they  have  been  dug 
out  as  fai'^asthey  could  be  reached, 
hut  others  st^Mr«||ain  in  this  ancient 
tree,  which  u  iTTi  "Tllh>i[d|ir  emblem 
of  wounded  innocence,  an^he  trunk 
twisted  off  at  a  considerable  elevation 
by  some  violent  wind,  that  has  left 
only  a  few  mutilated  branches,  is  a 
happy,  though  painful  memorial  of 
the  fate  of  Jenne  M^Crea. 

Her  name  is  inscribed  on  the  tree, 
^it)Mie  date  ITTT^  and  no  traveller 


passes  this  spot  withaat  spending  a 
plaintive  moment  in  contemplating 
the  untimely  fate  of  youth  and  lov^ 
liness. 


RUSSIAN  ORPHAN  BOY. 

Mr.  Dmiterfsay,  the  correspondent 
of  the  Bible  Society  in  Wiadimei,  and 
the  director  of  the  schools  there,  com- 
munkated  to  4he  committee  the  fol- 
lowing slnecdote : 

"  A  peasant  boy  came  one  day  into 
the  college  and  requested  a  Bible.  Oil 
my  asking  him  what  that  book  con- 
tained, and  what  he  intended  to  do 
with  it,  he  replied,  <  I  have  been  «• 
formed  of  a  great  deal  of  what  is  writ- 
ten in  it,  and  much  about  Christ.'  But 
who  is  Chrjst?  '  Our  dear  God,  and  I 
should  he  glad  to  become  acquainted 
with  him.'  But  where  have  you  heard 
any  thing  about  him  ?     ^  Many  of  the 
workmen  in  our  aianufactory  go  to 
the  miniaier,  and  get  a  book  frooi  him, 
in  which  they  afterwards  read.'     Can 
you  read  ?    *  Tolerably  well.    I  work 
in  the  manufactory,  and  with  my  earn- 
ings support  myself,  my  tnother,  sister 
and  a  little  brother.'     1  then  tried  the 
boy  by  desiring  him  to  read  a   hw 
lines,  and  was  surprised  at  the  fluency 
with  which  he  did  it.     l/pon  my  ask- 
ing him  who  taught  him  to  read,  he 
said,  <  the  workmen  in  the  manufactot- 
ry  have  given  me  a  primer,  and  in- 
structed me  at  times.'     Phrased  with 
the  wish  expressed  by  the  boy,  I  said 
to  him,  'There,  tflJce  the  holy  book :  I 
make  you  a.pft^sertt  of  it,  read  dili- 
gently in  it,  but  alwa}'«  with  prayer, 
and  a  heart  turned  toward  the  Lord.' 
He    took   the   book    containing  the 
words  of  eternal  life  in  his  hands,  fell 
upon  his  knees,  full  of  |?nititude,  and 
hastily  withdrew  fwim  the  room  with 
a  count«u.ance   brightened    witlt  joy. 
He  sat  ^towiLupoa  the  stairs,  opened 
the  book  with  a  holy  impatience,  and 
read  eagmy^in^'it;   then  putting  it 
in    his    pocket,    departed    rejoicing. 
Blessed   be  the   Lord  our  God,  who 
hath  ordained  praise  to  be  ^ven  him, 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC  '   ' 


iS6 


inwoiLAiisoOi. 


not  only  by  the  wiie  and  lenmedi  bul 
also  out  of  the  mouths  of  babet  and  { 
tockliogt." 


POINT  OF  HONOUR. 

An  anecdote  has  been  related  to  me, 
of  a  character  so  extraordinary,  that  I 
think  it  ought  to  be  recorded.  It 
comes  from  a  source  entitled  to  per- 
fect cndit.  Duilne  the  revohitionary 
war,  two  Eritish  soldiers,  of  the  army 
of  Lord  Comwallis,  went  into  a 
bouse  and  abused  a  young  woman  in  a 
most  cruel  and  shameful  manner.  A 
third  soldier,  in  going  into  the  house, 
met  them  coming  out  and  knew  them. 
The  girl  acquitted  him  of  all  blame, 
but  he  was  imprisoned  because  he  re- 
fused to  disclosi!  the  names  of  the  o^ 
fenders.  Every  art  was  tried,  but  in 
vain,  and  at  length  he  was  condemned 
by  a  court  martial  to  die.  When  on 
the  gallows.  Lord  Comwallb,  sur* 
pris^  at  %ts  pertinacity,  fode  near 
him — 

^^  Campbell,"  said  he,  ^what  afool 
are  you  to  die  thus.  Disclose  tlie 
names  of  the  guilty  men,  and  you  shall 
be  immediately  ijreleased.,  otherwise 
you  have  not  fifteen  minutes  to  live." 

**  You  are  in  an  enemy's  country, 
my  Lord,"  replied  Campbell,  **  you 
oan  better  Spare  one  man  than  twoJ' 

Firmly  adhering  to  his  purpose  he 
died. 

Does  history  furnish  a  similar  in- 
stance of  such  strange  devotion  for  a 
mistaken  point  of  honour. 

ViU.  Rec. 

WAR  HORSE. 
I  do  not  recollect  to  have  seen  the 
fact  stated,  though  it  deserves  to  be 
remembered.  General  Washington 
had  two  favourite  horses.  A  large 
elegant  parade  horse,  of  a  chestnut 
colour^  high  spirited,  and  of  a  gallant 
carriage;  this  horse  had  belonged  to 
the  British  army.  His  other  was 
smaller,  and  his  polour  sorrel ;  this  he 
used  alwa>^  to  ride  in  time  of  action, 
so  that  wlienever  the  general  mounted 


him,  the  wofd  ran  ibroiigli  Ae  raahs, 
<<  We  have  busmess  oo  hand." 

At  the  battle  of  GermajntowD,  gene- 
ral Wayne  rode  his  gallairt  roan,  wad  ib 
chaipng  the  enemy  his  horse  received 
a  wound  in  bis  head  and  ietl,  as  was 
supposed,  dead.  Two  days  after  the 
roan  returned  to  the  Am^tican  camp, 
not  materially  injured,  and  was  again 
fit  for  service.— ii. 


SYMPATHIES  OF  A  CARD  TABLE. 

— So,  Miss  Hectic  died  this  morn- 
ing of  a  consumption.  She  was  no 
more  than  seventeen — a  sweet  girl ! 

A  me !  is  she  dead  ?  Poor  thing— > 
What's  trumps? 

The  man  is  dead,  my  dear,  whom 
we  employed  to  clear  the  mouth  of 
the  well  ft>ehind  our  house,  and  which 
he  fell  into. 

Is  he  ?  I  thought  he  could  not  re* 
cover; — Play  a  spade,  madam. 

There  were  upward  of  four  thou- 
sand killed  in  the  last  engageoient* 
How  many  childless  parents  are  iibv 
in  sorrow? 

Ah !  how  many,  indeed  i — ^The  odd      ^ 
tridi  b  ours. 

The  Captain  is  now  reduced  to  such 
poverty,  that  I  am  told  h  would  be 
charity  to  send  a  joint  of  meat  to  his 
family. 

lliat's  hard. — ^I  have  not  a  heart, 
indeed,  sir. 

He  fell  on  his  head,  and  has  been 
delirious  ever  since,  and  the  physici- 
ans have  np  hopes  that  he  will  ever 
recover  the  use  of  his  reason. 

Oh!  I  recollect:  he  rode  against 
somebody. — Play  a  spade,  if  you 
please. 

The  prospect  to  the  poor,  this  win- 
ter, is  dreadful  indeed.  There  will 
be  a  powerful  appeal  to  the  feelings 
of  the  rich. 

Yes— one  really  gives  so  much  in 
charity — I'  11  bet  you  a  crown  on  the 
game. 

Pray,  lady  Dashall,  have  you  heard 
of  the  dreadful  accident  which  J^ 
happened  to  Mrs.  Prvabout ? ,     W^ 

Digitized  by  VjOOQ iC 


mMcmjuamom* 


isr 


What!  her  son  dfowned?  O^ 
Mind  we  are  eight,  partner. 

Qeorge,  madnn ;  George,  I  am  sor^ 
ry  to  say  it,  pot  an  end  to  fais  life  last 
Tdesday — 

YoQ  don't aay  so? — Iliad  two  ho- 
nors in  my  own  hand. 

Yes  ;*aiiid  as  misfortuoes never  come 
iJone,  his  mother  and  sister  are  in  a 
stale  of  distraction — 

Dear  me!  that's  bad— Single^  doo- 
Ue,  and  the  rub. 

THE  TEA  PLANT. 

A  Phfladelphia  botanist,  C.  S.  F. 
Rafinesque,  in  two  ingenioiis  letters  to 
Dr.  Mitchill,  reeonmiends  introducing 
the  tea  plant  from  Cliiaa  mto  the  Uni- 
ted Stales,  where,  he  is  positive,  it 
may  be  successfully  cultivated.  More 
dian  12,000,000  of  dollars  are  annu- 
idly  paid  to  the  Chinese  lor  the  article 
of  tea,  which  may  be  saved  to  our 
coantiy  by  thb  project.  He  points 
out  the  manner  in  which  the  plant 
may  be  obtained,  and  recommfencb  the 
formation  of  a  society  for  its  natural* 
ixation,  as  collective  exertions  have 
generally  a  better  chance  <^  success 
than  individual  zeal. 

It  seems  important  to  mention,  that 
die  tea  plant  of  tbe  Hyson  species  b 
said  to  be  growing  in  ponsiderable 
qoantilies,  at  a  settlement  of  the 
Friends,  on  Blue  River^  Jacl^spn 
county,  Indiana.  Some  seeds  were 
fbnnd  by  one  of  the  society,  a  few 
yean  since,  in  a  lot  (^  tea  purchased 
at  Louisville;  tbey  were  planted,  and 
succeeded  so  well,  that  some  of  the  fa- 
milies in  the  neighbourhood  raise  a 
sufficiency  for  their  own  consump- 
doo. — Lk.  Cab. 


WINTER  BUTTER, 
An  idea  prevails  very  extensively, 
that  good  butter  cannot  be  made  in 
the  winter.  This  is  a  great  mistake. 
When  the  process  is  well  understood, 
as  fine  batter  is  made  in  the  depths  of 
winto-,  as  at  any  season  of  the  year. 


[Ef  pursuing  tlie  following  eoorse,  the 
matter  wHl  be  accomplisl^ : 
Let  the  cows  be  kept  under  cover 
in  a  warm  stable,  well  fed  widi  the 
best  hay  and  provender,  and  milked 
regularly  morning  and  evening.  Place 
the  milk  in  pans,  in  as  cold  a  place  as 
may  be  found  about  the  dairy  house; 
the  sooner  it  freeses  the  better.  As 
soon  as  it  is  froxen  thoroughly,  take 
the  cream  from'the  top,  the  frost  will 
force  the  cream  to  the  surface ;  and 
chum  it  with  no  other  warmth  than 
the  air  of  the  kitchen,  at  the  distance 
of  eight  or  ten  feet  from  the  fire- 
place. It  requires  more  time  to  fetch 
the  butter;  but  when  brought,  it  will 
be  of  the  finest  flavour  and  quality. 


EXTRAORDINARY  PRODUCT. 
There  has  been  raised  and  gathered 
this  year  from  one  acre  of  land  on  the 
farm  of  the  Hon.  Jonathan  Hunqn- 
well,  at  Newtown,  Massachusetts,  0910 
hundred  and  ekven  huahek  and  a 
h^  of  Indian  corn.  We  believe  this 
has  never  been  equalled  in  Massachu- 
setts, if  in  New^Englaad.  An  account 
of  the  culture  ami  quality  of  this 
maize^  will,  we  learn,  be  communi- 
cated to  the  Agricultural  Society  for 
publication. 

ANECDOTE. 
A  grandee  of  Spain  handing  some 
refreshments  to  a  circle  of  ladies,  ob- 
served one  with  a  most  brilliant  ring, 
and  was  rude  enough  to  say  in  her 
hearing,  ^  I  should  prefer  the  ring  to 
the  hand.^  «  And  I,  (^aid  the  lady, 
looking  steadfasUy  at  the  glittprinff 
order  suspended  to  the  don\  neck) 
should  prefer  the  coUar  to  the  beast /^ 


LITERARY. 

Ma.  M.  Nash,  preceptor  of  the 
Literary,  Mathemanical,  and  Com- 
mercial School,  at  No.  33 1  Broadway, 
hm  commenced  therpublicadon  of  a 

ligitized  by  V±i 


158 


?OBTftT. 


new  work,  to  be  (Niblbhed  anmwHy, 
entitled  "The  Ladies'  and  Gentle- 
men's Diary,  or  United  Stateet  Alma- 
nac, containing,  besides  an  enlarged 
Almanac,  an  interesting  variety  of 
matters  relative  to  the  Sciences  and 
Arts,  so  as  to  have  the  effect  of  a  Phi- 
losophical Magazine."  The  work  is 
comprised  in  ninety-^ix  duodecioM 
pages,  each  number,  neatly  printed, 
with  a  handsome  small  type,  by  J. 
Seymour.  This  work  cannot  fail  to 
he  highly  interesting  to  the  astrono- 
mer, mathematician,  and  philosopher, 
and  will  undoubtedly  meet  with  the 
patronage  of  those  who  are  capable 
of  appreciatiQg  its  merits.  It  is  high- 
ly approved,  and  recommended  by 
Robert  Adrian,  l.  l.  d.  professor  of 
mathematics  and  natural  philosophy, 
Columbia  college  5  James  Thompson, 
William  Marrat,  Edward  C.  Ward, 
teachers  of  mathematics  and  natural 
astronomy ;  R.  Tagart,  teacher  of  ma- 
thematics; and  Wm.  Forrest,  teacher 
of  mathematics,  Manhattan  School. 


MASONIC  POSTSCRIPT. 

BENEVOLENT  LODGE,  No.  143. 
AT  ST.  John's  hall. 
Nem^York,  Dec,  9,  5820. 

At  a  regular  communication  of  this 
lodge,  being  the  time  of  the  annual 
election,  the  following  brethren  were 
elected  to  the  offices  annexed  to  their 
respective  names,  for  the  ensuing  year : 

Alexander  Frazer,  worshipful  mas- 
ter; James  Hays,  senior,  and  Wil- 
liam M<Quin,junior  wardens;  Michael 
Murphey,  secretary;  Henry  Marsh, 
treasurer;  James  Thorbum,  senior, 
and  Thomas  Harrison,  junior  deacons ; 
Frederick  VVemill,  and  WiUiam  Ad- 
amsj  masters  of  ceremonies;  Alexan- 
der Cascaden,and  David  Russel,  stew- 
ards; Samuel  Clark,  tyler;  Frederick 
Wemill,  Daniel  West,  Alexander  Cas- 
caden,  James  Hays, and  Wm.  M^Quin, 
standing  committee. 

Voted^l  hat  the  Secretary  be  in- 
structed to  baiui  a  list  of  the  newly 


elected  offietn  to  brother  Pratt,. wkh 
a  request  that  it  may  be  published  m 
the  Masonic  Register* 


POETICAL. 


For  the  Masoitic  RvotrrkB. 

PAINS  OF  RECOLLECTION. 

The  ceaseless  memory  of  joy  that's  fled. 
Of  bfmpiness  that  is  forever  past, 

The  path  of  disappointmeot  I  must  tread ; 
A  neTer-ending  jouraey-^ope's  eternal 
blast 

Inhere  are  the  happy  days  of  fond  deiigbt. 

Which  fir'd  the  feelings  that  no  mind 

controuls 

Which  were  the  rapture  of  the  dreary  night, 

When  mingling  interchange  of  lore  unl* 

fid  auient  souls  P 

Oh,  they  have  fled,  save  where  the  midnight 
sleep 
Wafts  back  to  pleasure's  gentle  flowing 
streams, 
Whose  ideal  charms  could  I  possesaioii 

keep, 
*  rd  sleep  forever  in  such  love-enchanting 
dreams  1 

Yes,  thejr  are  past — fled,  never  to  return  ? 
Yet  painful  recollection  ne'er  will  cease, 
'Till  life's  last  glimmering  light  no  more 
shall  bum ; 
Till  wrapt  in  waJtelesi  slumbers,  ever- 
lasting peace. 

No  more  can  charm  the  rosv  blush  of  morn. 
When  usher'd  in  by  tuneful  warbler's 
notes. 
In  vain  themselves  the  meads  with  flowers 
adorn. 
In. vain  confusive  birds,  ye  strain  your 
noisy  little  throals ! 

Thou  cheerful  painted  group,  no  gloom 
o'erclouds 
Thy  harmony,  through  life's  short  bliss- 
ful reign. 
Save  where  the  marksman  a  lov'd  mala 
enshrouds, 
£xnltin£  in  the  death  of  her,  which  thou 
sbalt  ne'er  regain. 

Thy  merry  songs  no  more  attract  my  ear, 
Whilst  wauderiog  through  thy  most  me- 
lodius  haunts, 
Where  bordering  lowlands  to  the  woods 
adliere ; 
Where  mateles?  Robin  his  lost  love  in 
mournful  requiem  chaunls. 

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POBTEY. 


159 


PfMir  lonely  red-brta8t>  I  tbygirief  can  feet, 
For  tbhie  the  self-same  cause  which  iiai 

Tlie  misety  that  no  balm  can  ever  heal— > 
Was  dealt  in  masked  friendship,  by  that 
reptiie^^MaH. 

R.  S.  H. 


Fob  tbx  Masohic  RBoitnuu 
HOPE. 

Oh  hope  !  thou  potent  healing  balm. 
Come  dwell  within  my  breast ;         ' 

Each  gloomy  doubt  expel,  or  caloii 
And  luU  each  fear  to  rest. 

Were  wretched  mortals  ne*er  to  taste 

Thy  bright  consoling  ray, 
life  were  a  dwk,  a  dreary  waste, 

And  joyless  were  each  day. 

When  cares  perplexing  throng  my  mmd, 

And  troubles  press  me  nigh, 
Then  hope,  on  thee  and  Heav'n  re^n*d» 

My  troubles  seem  to  fly. 

In  this  my  joyless,  dark  career. 

Blest  hope,  to  thee  I  turn, 
Thy  lovel  V  form  my  heart  doth  cheeri 

Aad  bids  it  cease  to  mourn. 

Then  balmy  hope  be  thou  my  guest. 
Through  troubled  life  my  iriend, 

m  nurse  thee  in  my  drooping  breast, 
While  prayers  to  Heav'n  1  send. 

HZN&IBTTA. 

"■^^^"^     • 
Fos.  THX  Masohic  Rbgister. 
TU£  MUSE. 

«  Thy  seat  with  the  mnses  I  see  thou  ha3t 
taken,** 

Thu0  accosted  my  (riend,  **  bnt  if  I'm  not 
mistaken. 

Instead  of  nurant  UeHcon's  commit  so  fine 

A  garret  surrounded  with  cobwebs  is  thine. 

Ifo  Parnassian  height,  nor  Pierian  spring, 

rior  Arcadia  for  poets  Columbia  doth  bring. 

The  Elysian  grottos  so  famous  of  old. 

Were  to  poets  assigned  as  in  fables  we're 
told; 

But  American  bards  other  fates  do  attend, 

No  patron  to  genius  their  cause  fo  befriend ; 

Unpitied,  passed  by,  like  a  harp  that's  un- 
strung, 

^eir  c^uj^is  neglected,  their  praises  un- 
sung!" 
But  though  tbb  be  the  fate  of  the  sons  of 
the  muse. 

Were  it  east  to  my  lot,  the  hard  portion  I'd 
choose. 

For  the  lyre  has  a  magic  each  care  to  be- 
gaile, 

And  cheer  the  lone  bosom  with  genius's 
snUe. 


While  moumfaiigforevilsIcanMCaBMiidy 
1  then  court  the  muse  and  she  still  b  mj 

friend  •  # 

In  accents  of  comfort  she  speaks  to  my 

soul, 
And  points  me  above  to  the  heavenly  goal. 
Where  the  bards  and  the  muses  tog^er 
/  conspire. 

Their  genius  to  mhL  with  the  heavenly 

chofa", 
In  praises  to  him  who's  their  patron  and 

friend, 
Whose  breath  first  insplr'd  and  whose  love 

has  no  end. 

Gsosez. 


ON  THE  ABOVS. 

On  setting  the  types  for  the  above  the  com^ 
positor  was  led  into  the  following  reflec* 
tious : 

Since  printers  wHh  poets  unite, 
To  disseminate  light  through  the  earthy 

Perhaps  ^oo  may  think  I  am  right 
In  giving  my  sentiments  birth. 

The  fair  soil  of  freedom,  to  me 
Produces  spontaneous  flowers, 

And  though  poor,  I  exult  when  I  see 
The  blessings  that  liberty  showers. 

Tou-say  that  the  rich  and  the  oreat 

Our  cause  will  no*  deign  to  befiriendt 
yet  I  know  that  an  em^  re's  estate 
'  Could  not  make  you  to  flatt'iy  descend. 

No  **  lanreat"  here  panders  his  fame 
The  gariand  of  poesy  to  twine 

For  the  brow  of  the  coward — whose  name. 
To  infamy  we  should  consign. 

The  guardians  of  tredonia's  shore. 
Must  exult  in  the  rank  that  they  hold, 

For  tyranti  can  never  reign  o'er 
The  bards  of  American  mould. 

Ttfe. 


For  tbb  MASono  Rboistsr. 
On  witneasing  preparatiotts  for  reboildlng 

THE  PARK  THEATRE. 
Oh  build  ye  no  more-^et  those  ruins  re- 


Memorials  of  hopes  I  have  fbster'd  in  vain ! 
Uopes  malice  hath  crush'd  e'er  their  buds 

had  unfbri'd 
To  sHence  the  doubtful,  and  startle  the 

wortd. 

Let  the  bleak  winds  of  winter  at  midnight 
carouse 

'Roood  the  shivering  wrecks  of  that  deso- 
late house ; 

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160 


PiHimr. 


Let  tliem  lay  like  the  typical  void  of  my 

seal, 
Aii^nd  whieh  the  storms  ot  despondency 

roll. 

And  oh,  there's  another»Anotfaercanse  why 
I  torn  from  these  signs  of  destruction— end 

»%h; 
Twas  there  Jolia  whispered  vfarginity*s  vow, 
1  befiev*d  her-^^mt  wnat — och  what  }b  she 

now.  M'DoHAJLD  Classx. 


CHURCH  FELU)W8HIP. 

People  of  the  liring  Ctod, 

I  have  sought  the  world  aroundi 
Paths  of  sin  and  sofrow  trod. 

Peace  and  comfort  no  where  found } 
Now  to  you  my  spirit  turn^- 

Turns,  a  fugitive  nnblest ; 
Brethren,  where  your  altar  bums, 

O  receive  me  to  your  rest 

Lonely,  I  no  longer  roam, 

Like  the  cloud,  the  wind,  the  wavoy 
Where  you  dwell  shall  be  ray  home, 

Where  you  die  shall  be  my  ^ve. 
Mine  the  God  whom  you  adore^ 

Your  Redeemer  shdl  be  mine ; 
Earth  can  fill  my  soul  no  more} 

£v*iy  idol  I  resign. 

Tell  me  not  of  gain  and  loss, 

Ease,  enjoyment,  pomp,  and  power; 
W^eome  poverty  and  cross,  ^ 

Shame,  repr      h,  afBiction's  hour. 
<  Follow  me,*  I  know  thy  voice— 

Jesus,  Lord,  thy  steps  i  see  ; 
Now  Itake  thy  yoke  by  choice, 

.(iight  thy  burthen  now  to  me. 

J.  MONTGOMEHT. 


MARRIEb. 

Oh  the  9th  of  November,  by  the  Rev 
JoHATHAN  Lyon,  Mr  Johk  Harpeb,  Prin- 
ter, of  the  firm  of  J.  &.  J.  Harper,  to  Miss 
Tammi$i!i  Hiogins,  daughter  of  Mr.  Abner 
Higgins,  all  of  this  city. 

Qn  the  11th  of  November,  by  the  Rev. 
3bth  Crowkll,  Mr.  BsincnicT  Bolmore, 
Printer,  of  the  firm  of  f  loyt  and  Bolmort, 
to  Miss  Hehrictta  Maria  Brewster, 
daughter  of  tlie  Jate  Dr.  fUisha  Brewster, 
.  all  of  this  city. 

The  editum  of  life,  may  they  trorib  off  com- 
plete, 
On  the  pntt  of  affection  and  love. 
May  picksy  monks,  and  friartf  be  free  from 
each  sheet, 
And  the  points  of  esteem  never  move. 

When  death  ai  the  la^t  shall  throw  into  pie , 
Or  'Jistribvte  their /ornw  in  his  ease, 

Mav  they  be  again  set  in  the  qfiu  on  high; 
And  imposed  on  t^e  stone  of  fret  grace. 


OBITUARY. 
Died  OD  the  17th  October,  Jqbn  ft. 
Shaw,  Esq.  in  the  30th  year  of  hi» 
age*  Mr.  Shaw  was  a  native  of  Ma- 
ryland, and  was  educated  ibr  Ibe  pioo 
fession  of  the  law.  At  the  commeace- 
meat  of  the  late  contest,  he  reoetred 
the  appointment  of  Purser  in  thelJ.  S. 
Navy,  aed  entered  as  such,  on  board 
the  Essex,  under  captain  Porter.  lo 
he«memorable  cruise  of  that  frigate^ 
he  was  distinguished  alike  for  his  ao-^ 
tivity  and  firmness.  He  enjoyed,  to 
a  high  degree,  the  confidence  of  liis 
gallant  commander,  and  in  the  mt- 
merous  Captures  which  occurrecl  in 
the  Pacific  ocean,  he  received  the 
appointment  of  prise-master  of  the 
whaling  ship  New  Zealander.  In  that 
novel  capacity,  his  sound  discretion 
more  than  countertMriaoeed  hn  inex- 
perience in  the  practical  dutfes  of  a 
sailor,  and  ensiled  him  to  peribrm  a 
service  so  foreign  to  his  profession,  to 
tlie  pedl^ct  »![tisfaction  of  his  saperior 
officer.  Aiier.the  war  lie  was  trans- 
ferred to  the  Hornet,  but  in  conse> 
quence  of  ill  health,  he  kft  that  vessel 
during  a  cruise,  and  was  never  after- 
wards in  active  service.  In  dbposi- 
tion,  Mr.  Shaw  was  open,  candid,  and 
benevolent.  Free  from  dissimulation 
hifnself,  he  reposed  unlimited  confi- 
dence in  others,  and  not  unfirequently 
to  the  disadvantage  of  his  own  inter- 
ests. His  generosity  was  unbounded^ 
and  he  rejected  no  application,  wlieo 
in  his  power  to  relieve  it.  Hb  feel- 
ings were  extremelv  ardent,  bofi  \us 
resentments  were  of  short  duration. 

<«When  much  enforced,  they  show'd  a 

hasty  spark, 
Which  straight  was  cold  again.*' 

His  deportment  to  the  world  at 
large,  was  strictly  conformable  to  the 
injunctions  of  the  Craft,  and  to  the  last 
moments  of  his  existence,  he  enters 
tained  the  utmost  respect  for  the  Order 
to  whi^h  he  was  attaciied,and  in  which 
he  at  the  time,  held  a  station  of  high 
responsibility  and  trust.  s.  t. 

HOTT  &  BOJUMOW,  PRINTERS. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


THE 


AMERICAN  MASONIC  REGISTER, 

AND 

.    Ladies'  and  Gentlemen's  Magazine. 


BY  LUTHER  PRATT. 


Then  came  PetiHr  to  him,  and  said,  Lord  bow  oft  shall  my  brother  tfn  ai^mt  me,  and  1 
for^e  faiai?  till  seven  times  f  Jesas  saith  uato  hm^  I  say  not  unto  thee,  until  sevai 
timet ;  but,  until  seventy  times  seren. 

St.  Matthew  xvfii.  21,  22. 


[No.  v.] 


FOR  JANUARY,  A.  D.  1821.  A.  L.  5821. 


[Vol.  L] 


MASONIC* 

ANCIENT  CEREMONIES. 

CBRKHOfTT  OB^HIVED  AT  LATXNG  THB 
FOITNDATION  STONES  09  PUHUC 
STtUCTUUS. 

This  ceremoDy  is  conducted  by  the 
mad  master  and  his  oflBcers,  assisted 
by  the  members  of  the  grand  lodge. 
They  are  accompanied  by  the  officers 
and  brethren  of  neighbouring  lodges, 
and  stich  other  Masons  as  can  conven- 
iently assemble  on  the  occasion.  The 
chief  magistrate,  and  other  civil  offi^ 
cers  of  the  place  where  the  building 
b  to  be  erected,  generally  attend. 
The  ceremony  is  thus  conducted : 

At  the  time  appointed,  the  grand 
lodge  b  convened  at  some  convenient 
plaqe,  approved  by  the  grand  master. 
Music  is  provided,  and  the  brethren 
appear  with  the  insignia  of  the  order, 
and  with  white  gloves  and  aprons. 
The  lodge  is  opened  by  the  grand 
master,  and  the  rules  for  forming  the 
procession  to  and  from  the  place  at 
which  the  ceremony  is  to  be  perform- 
•d,  are  read  by  the  grand  secretary, 
and  committed  to  th**  grand  marshal. 
The  necessary  cautions  ivre  then  given 


J  from  the  chair,  and  the  lodge  is  ad* 
joumed :  after  which  they  move  io 
procession  to  the  place  for  the  founda- 
tion of  the  building. 

A  triumphal  arch  is  usiully  erected 
at  the  place  where  the  ceremony  is  to 
be  performed :  under  which  the  breth* 
ren  pass,  and  repair  to  their  stations, 
and  the  grand  master  and  his  officers 
take  their  place  on  a  temporary  plat- 
form, covered  with  a  carpet.  An  ode, 
suited  to  the  occasion,  is  then  sung. 

The  grand  master  commands  si- 
lence, and  the  necessary  preparations 
are  made  for  laying  the  stone,  on  which 
is  engraven  the  year  of  Masonry,  with 
the  name  and  titles  of  the  grand  mas- 
ter, &c.  &c.  The  workmen's  tools  are 
presented  to  the  grand  master ;  who 
applies  the  square,  plumb,  and  level,  to 
the  stone,  in  their  proper  positions, 
and  pronounces  it  to  be  <<  well  formed, 
true,  and  trusty."  The  stone  is  next 
raised  up,  by  means  of  an  engine  erect- 
ed for  that'  purpose,  and  the  grand 
chaplain  rep^s  the  following  prayer. 

«  May  the  Grand  .Architect  of  the 
Universe  grant  a  blessing  on  this  fouw- 
dation  stone,  which  we  have  noif  laid ; 
and  by  hi^  providence  enable  us  to 
finish  this  and  all  our  works  with 
skill  and  success^" 


W 


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164 


mMftAL  nk^cs. 


of  tiMse  Mgw  maj  aeeompany  their 
officers  in  t^m. 

All  the  brethren  should  appear  in 
deeeat  moiirniag;  dressed- in  i^ite 
Stockings,  gioves,  and  aproos,  the  usual 
olothing  of  master  Masons. 

The  officers  should  appear  with  the 
badges  of  the  lodge,  aad  such  as  have 
holden  offices,  may  wear  the  badges 
el"  their  former  stations,  provided  that 
the  brethren  actually  in  office  are  dia- 
tinguished  by  sashes  &c. 

The  brethren  should  first  assemble, 
if  possible,  in  their  lodge  room,  and 
open  in  due  form,  and  remain  standing 
during  the  first  part  of  the  service, 
which  may,  in  common  cases,  be  per- 
formed in  their  hall,  with  the  usual 
ceremonies. 

A  procession  .is  then  formed ;  the 
lodges  move  according  to  seniority, 
except! nf  that  the  lod^^e,  of  which  the 
deceased  was  a  member,  moves  near- 
est to  the  corpse. 

In  the  graveyard,  the  brethren  pro- 
ceed to  the  grave,  and  then  entering 
at  its  foot,  open  so  that  the  master 
may  stand  at  the  head  of  the  grave, 
and  the  mourners  may  halt  at  the  foot, 
while  the  brethren  encircle  it.  Whilst 
the  prayers  are  reading  at  the  grave, 
the  brethren  may  slowly  approach  it, 
till  they  are  as  near  as  they  can  with 
comfort  stand. 

If  no  part  of  the  service  has  been 
already  performed  in  the  lodge,  or 
some  public  buildtug,  with  proper 
ceremouies,  then  it  is  here  rehearsed ; 
or  such  as  may  be  substituted  by  the 
direction  of  the  master. 

The  service  may  be  performed  by 
responses,  or  by  one  voice  at  dbcre* 
.tkm. 

The  master  speaks,  or  the  chaplain 
by  his  direction, 

Where  is  now  our  brother? 

He  sojoarncth  in  darhiwsB. 

Can  we  redeem  our  brother? 

We  have  not  the  ransom.  The 
place  that  knew  him  shall  know  him 
MO  more  ! 

Shall  his  name  be  lost  ? 
[Here  the  roll  is  unfolded*] 


Tktmemorji  of'«  htMer  is  pre- 
ciom.     We  wiUrecord  his  nawte.* 
[ViewiBg  the  roll.] 

Write  It  here ! 

WewiU  writeitin our  hearts^ 

How  will  it  then  be  known ! 
[Here  strew  flowers.] 

It  shall  live  in  his  virtues  j  whick 
shaUlivs  in  usandin  every  hrether. 

Was  he  worthy  ? 

We  toiU  live  Uke  true  hreikten, 
and  our  last  endshoB  be  in  peace. 

He  was  indeed  our  brother; 

Buiy  who  haihdone  this? 

The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  ta« 
keth  away. 

Let  us  then  bless  the  name  of  the 
Lord. 

EJACULATION. 

What  is  our  life f  Itisashad(%!  a 
dream! 

We  once  were — but  what  were  we  f 

Whither  are  we  going  ?  what  shall 
we  become  ? 

Whoispoorf  Whoisriehf  The 
king  and  the  beggar  lie  down  togetk" 
er.  , 

Our  brother  hath  forsaken  us ! 

He  is  no  longer  one  of  ourselves  ! 

Every  connection  of  life  has  ceased  ! 

The  form  is  no  longer  beautiful  / 

He  stretcheth  not  his  hands  to  us. 

The  hour  of  death  has  overtaken 
Mm! 

Shall  not  some  friend  comfort  us  ? 

An  oration  may  here  be  delivered ; 
but  if  one  has  not  been  prepared  for 
the  occasion,  the  following  may  an- 
swer: 

"  Here  we  view  a  striking  instance 
of  the  uncertainty  of  Kfe,  and  the  van- 
ity of  all  human  pursuits.  The  last 
o^es  |>aid  to  the  dead,  are  only  use- 
ful as  lectures  to  the  living ;  from  them 
we  are  to  deiive  instruction,  and  con- 
sider every  solemnity  of  this  kmd,  as 
a. ^summons  to  prepare  for  our  ap*> 
proaching  dissolution. 

<<  Notwithstanding  the  vartons  me- 
mentos of  mortality  with  which  we 
daily  meet,  notwhhstanding  death  has 
established  his  enopire  over  all  the 
works  of  nature,  ye<^  through  some  un- 

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9t!ffnAli  SiWfCB^ 


acocNHitable  iiifbtuation,  we  forget  that 
we  are  born  to  die.  We  go  on  from 
one  design  to  another,  add  hope  to 
hope,  and  lay  out  phins  Ah*  the  em- 
ploymeBt  of  many  years,  till  we  are 
suddenly  alarmed  with  the  approach 
of  death,  when  we  least  expected  him, 
and  at  an  hour  which  we  probably  con- 
ehided  to  be  the  meridian  of  oar  ei- 
istence. 

**  What  are  all  the  externals  ofmaje»> 
ty,  the  pride  of  wealth,  or  charms  of 
bi»iity^hett  nature  has  paid  her  just 
debt  ?  Fix  your  eyes  on  the  last  scene, 
and  view  life  stript  of  her  ornaments, 
and  exposed  in  her  natural  meanness ; 
you  will  then  be  convinced  of  the  fn- 
tHity  of  those  empty  delusions.  In 
die  grave  all  felacies  are  defected, 
all  ranks  are  levelled,  and  all  distino- 
tiotts  are  deue  away. 

"While  we  drop  the  sympathetic 
tear  over  the  grave  of  our  deceased 
friend,  let  charity  incline  bsto  throw  a 
veil  over  his  f<Mbles,  whatever  tbey 
may  have  been,  and  not  withhold  from 
his  memory  the  praise  that  his  virtues 
may  have  claimed.  Suffer  the  apolo- 
gies of  human  nature  to  plead  in  his 
behalf.  Perfection  on  earth  has  never 
been  attained ;  the  wisest,  as  well  as 
the  best  of  men,  have  erred.  His 
meritorious  actions  it  is 'our  duty  to 
imitate,  and  from  his  weakness  we 
ought  to  derive  instmction.      < 

^Let  the  present  example  e^te 
our  most  serious  thoughts,  and  strengths 
en  our  resolutions  of  amendment.  As  j 
fife  is  uncertain,  and  all  eartyy  pur- 
suits are  vain,  let  us  no  longer  post- 
pone the  important  concern  of  prepar- 
ing for  eternity ;  but  embrace  the  hap- 
py moment,  while  time  and  opportu- 
nity offer,  to  provide  against  the  mat 
change,  when  all  the  pleasures  of  thb 
world  shall  cease  to  delight,  and  the 
reflections  of  a  virtuous  life  yield  the 
only  comfort  and  consolation.  Thus 
our  expectations  will  not  be  frustrated, 
nor  shall  we  be  hurried,  unprepared, 
into  the  presence  of  an  all-wise  and 
powerful  Yudee,  to  whom  the  secrets 
of  lA  nearts  are  Known,  ana  trpm 


]« 


wliose  ikead  tribonal  no  coiprii  can 
escape. 

'<Let  us,  while  in  this  stage  of  ex* 
istence,  support  with  propriety  the 
character  of  our  profession,  advert  to 
the  nature  of  our  siriema  ties,  and  puf^ 
sue  with  assiduity  the  sacred  tenets-of 
the  order:  dien,  with  becomiag rev>- 
erence,  lee  us  supplicate  the  divine 
grace,  and  rasore  the  favour  of  that 
eternal  Being,  whose  goodness  and 
power  know  no  hound ;  that  when  the 
awful  moment  arrives,  be  it  soon  «r 
late,  we  may  be  enabled  to  prosecute 
our  journey,  without  dread  or  appre- 
hension, lo  that  for  distant  country, 
from  which  no  traveller  returns.  By 
the  light  of  the  divine  countenancOi 
we  shall  pass,  without  trembling, 
through  those  gloomy  mansions  where 
aU  things  are  forgotten;  and  at  the 
great  and  tremendous  day  of  trml  and 
retribution,  when  we  are  arraigned  at 
the  bar  of  divine  justice,  let  us  hope 
that  judgment  will  be  pronounced  in 
our  fovour,  and  that  we  riiall  receive 
our  reward,  in  the  possession  of  an 
Immortal  inheritance,  where  joy  flows 
innoeeeatinned  stream,  and  no  mound 
can  check  its  course.'' 

The  following  invocations  are  thea 
to  be-  made  by  the  master,  and  the 
Qsaal  honoors^  to  accompany  each. 

Master.  ^May  we  be  true  and 
fokhfol ;  and  may  we  hve  and  die  in 
lovaP' 

Response.    ^  So  moie  iihe.'^ 

Master.  **  May  we  profoss  what  is 
good,  and  may  we  always  act  agreea- 
bly to  our  profession.'' 

Response.    ^  So  moie  it  kf.^ 

Master.    ^  May  the  Lord  bfcas  us, 
aQd  prosper  us;  and  may  all  oar  goma* 
intentions  be  crowned  with  success !" 

Response.    ^  So  mote  it  ^." 

The  secretaries  are  then  to  advance, 
aifd  throw  their  rolls  into  the  grave 
with  the  usual  forms,  while  the  chap- 
lain repeats,  with  an  audible  voice, 

<'  Glory  be  to  God  on  high,  6n  earth 
peace  and  good  will  towards  men." 

Response.  ^^  So  mote  it  be,  nom, 
from  kenee/orikf  and  for  evermore  J* 

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169 


QK  tVE^  DSATM  OT  THOMAS  SMtTH  WBtB. 


Aer,  conpaiioo,  noAsier,  and  commmn- 
ifer.  Colonel  Thomas  Smith  Webb  is 
no  more !  His  obsequies  have  been  per- 
ftimed  in  various  ptols  of  the.  United 
States,  and  In  vmson  with  the  breth- 
len  of  oar  extenBive  fnitcMty,  of  which 
ke  was  the  head,  guide,  instructor,  and 
^fident  master,  we  would  by  the  so- 
lemnity aifimerai  riie$  bear  an  hum- 
.Me  testimony  to  the  poignancy  of  oor 
grief,  at  so  great  a  loss. 

In  scriptural  biography,  perhaps  no 
iocident  is  more  sublime,  interesting, 
and  affecting,  than  that  which  occa- 
rioaed  the  words,  from  th^  sacred  ora- 
cles just  read. 

Elt^b,  the  champion  of  Israel,  and 
the  prophetic  master  of  his  time,  hav- 
ing, »  a  degenerate  age,  arisen  to  the 
kigbest  eminence  in  the  service  of  his 
God,  and  having  contended  with  prin- 
cipalities, and  powers,  and  ^iritual 
wickedness  in  high  places;  having 
home  a  faithful  testimony  to  the  truth, 
mod  having  dispensed  his  instructions 
lo  the  fraternity  of  prophets,  the  sons 
of  inspiration,  he  received  intimation 
Ikat  his  tiresome  pilgrimage  on  earth 
was  about  to  be  terminated,  and  be 
translated  to  efeenu)!  felicity.  *  He  set 
•at,  with  his  successor,  to  the  place  of 
his  translation;  and  in  the  way,  ap- 
pears to  have  exerted  himself  to  re- 
move the  agony  which  tortured  the 
diacoosolate  breast  of  his  oHnpanion ; 
and  by  the  administration  of  divine 
oordials  of  consolation  and  instruction, 
to  inspire  him  with  heavenly  fortitude, 
and  zeal  for  the  future  prosperity  and 
glory  of  the  church  militant  on  earth. 
In  the  midst  of  this  interesting  conver- 
tttion,  of  which  we  have  but  little  ac- 
count, ^behold!  there  appeared  a  char 
riot  of  fire,  and  horses  of  nre,  and  par- 
ted them  asunder;  and  Elijah  went  up, 
by- a  wlnrlwind  into  Heaven!"  The 
afflicted  witnen  of  this  miraculous 
toene,  the  successor  of  this  great  pro- 
pket  of  ^e  Lord,  with  wild  consterpa- 
tion,  and  in  the  most  poignant  lan- 
guage of  heart  rending  and  astonish- 
ed grief,  seeing  his  master,  and  his 
d,  thua  suddenly  taken  away  ficom 


him,  exclaims  ^  Afy  F^ker^  my  F0- 
tker/  The  chariot  of  laraely  cmd  the 
horsemen  thereof  ^  Thereby  imply- 
ing, that  as  the  strength,  beauty,  grai|- 
deur,  protection,  and  sai^ty  of  the  n»* 
tion  oflsrael,  consisted  in  their  char^ 
lots  and  horsemen,  so  Klijah  l^ad  been 
as  it  were,  the  chariot  and  borsemea 
of  the  true  Israel  of  God ;  that  is,  their 
protection,  their  sfk-eng^,  and  their 
glory ;  and  that  it  was  now  departed 
from  them,  he  was  gone  foi%ver,  aa«l 
they  might  now  rend  their  garments^ 
in  the  biltemess  of  g^,  for  ^key  should 
see  hira  no  more. 

Our  beloved  and  departed  brotfier^ 
whose  memory  we  this  day  oekbratei 
was  not  only  a  member  of  that  ancient 
fraternity  which  aims  at  the  alleviik^ 
tion  of  human  miseries,  and  cherishes 
the  sentiments  most  congenial  witlv 
charity  and  benevolence,  but  he  was  a 
res)ilendent  luminary,  who  shed  forth 
the  rays  of  intelligence  into  every  de* 
partment  of  the  society ;  he  was  ita 
Dead,  its  leader,  its  father,  its  iostnic- 
tor,  and  its  brightest  omameaC  And 
in  the  private  walks  of  life,  as  well  as 
in  the  eclat  of  publio  ceremony,  he 
gave  the  strongest,  and  mostmieqaivw 
ocal  evidences  of  the  full  possession, 
and  liberal  exercise  of  those  benevoleat 
sentiments  embraced  in  the  Masoaic 
institution.  The  refined  powers  and 
feelings  of  bis  mind,  caused  him  to  be 
an  ardent  lover  of  the  arts,  and  of 
those  systems  of  improvement. wimA 
are  so  powerful  in  their  nature  and 
tendency  for  the  aitielioration  of  human 
misery,  and  for  increasing  the  comlbit 
and  happiness  of  mankind,  as  well  as 
to  disengage  from  an  ignominious  thral- 
dom the  powers  of  the  mind,  and  en- 
noble the  sentiments  of  the  soul. 

His  genius  was  great  for  enter- 
prise, afiable  for  society,  tend^  fat 
friendship,  and  soothing  for  distress. 
In  that  monitor  of  which  he  was  the 
author,  and  which  has  been  extensive^ 
ly  distributed  through  the  worid,  he 
will,  to  the  latest  period,  speak  inte^ 
ligence,  instruction,  and  admonition  to 
tte  attentive  craftamoi.    He  was  ki^ 

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YCHfd  with  the  oAce  of  defMty  geoe- 
idl  gnmd  eommander  of  tke  mtod  tn^ 
tmmpmetti  of  Knight  Templars,  and 
dteputy  gctraral  grand  high  priest  of 
tlie  general  graad  royal  arch  chapter 
m  iIms  United  States ;  he  was  chosen 
i^  the  highest  Masonic  office  in  the 
Usion,  and  in  every  department  pro- 
ved hiBMelf  a  master  workman,  and  a 
wlae  superintendent ;  in  every  respect 
laeritorioos  of  the  most  exalted  hoo- 
•ors,  and  the  most  aAectiooate  remem* 
brance.     He  was  a  Christian  by  pro- 
festrion,  and  we  believe  piety  reigned 
hi  his  heart,  for  some  of  us  have  seen 
him   cheerfully  take   the  mortifying 
drought  of  self-denial,  weep  over  the 
lomb  of  onr  Saviour,  and  humbly  at  the 
foot  of  the  cross,  exulting  in  the  trinm- 
plial  victories  of  redeeming  love.     But 
his  transit  b  uver ;  he  appeared  an  iU 
lostrioos  star  on  this  obscure  disk  of 
mortality,  and  suddenly  disappeared. 
He  is  gone,  his  spirit  has  fled,  and  we 
hope  now  rests  in  the  temple  above. 
In  veneration  for  such  men,  to  ex« 
change  the  accustomed  walks  of  plea- 
sore  for  the  house  of  moumiug,  to 
bedew  its  sacred  recesses  with  tears  of 
gratitude  to  their  memory,  to  strive,  if 
pessibte,   to  catch  some  portion  of 
their  e0ierial  spirit,  as  it  mounts  from 
tfau  earthly  sphere  into  perfect  union 
with  congenial  spirits  above,  is  a  lau- 
dable custom  coeval  with  society,  and 
sanctioned  by  the  example  of  the  wis- 
est nations ;  in  order  that  they  might 
long  be  preserved  in  public  view,  as 
examples  of  virtue, and  although  dead, 
yet  speaking.    This  practice  teaches 
to  posterity  the  important  lesson,  that 
whatever  distinction^  our  wants  and 
vices  may  render  necessary,  in  this 
short  and  imperfect  state  of  our  being, 
they  are  all  cancelled  by  the  hand  of 
death;  and  through  the  untried  pe- 
riods which  succeed,  virtueiind  bene- 
ficence will  make  the  true  distinctions, 
and  be  the  only  foundations  of  happi- 
ness and  renown.     *^  Those  who  have 
bestowed  their  lives  to  the  public  ^mkI, 
and  (or  the  amendment  of  society, 
teceive  a  praise  that  will  never  die^  a 


109 


sepulchre  which  will  dwi^  be  most 
Hlustrioos ;  not  that  in  whieb  theit 
bones  lie  mouldering,  but  that  iii  whidh 
their  fane  is  preserved.  The  whole 
worid  »  the  sepulchre  of  ilhistrioos 
and  useful  citissM,  and  their  inscrip- 
tioo  is  written  on  the  hearts  of  all 
good  men." 

Bot  as  funeral  solemnities  are  not, 
in  this  enlightened  age,  intended  so 
much  for  the  benefit  of  the  dead  as  Ux 
the  Kvtng,  h  is  our  imperious  duty  to 
contemplate  the  ravages  of  death  for 
our  own  use ;  and  while  we  evidence  a 
grateful  remembrance,  and  heartfelt 
bereavement,  on  account  of  the  depar* 
ture,  of  our  esteemed  and  beloved  friend 
and  brother,  it  becomes  us  to  improve, 
for  our  own  advantage,  the  deep,  and 
aflectifig  loss.  We  have,  on  this  oc- 
casion, a  striking  instance  of  the  un* 
certainty  of  earthly  expectations,  and 
are  invited  to  reflect  in  what  rapid  pro* 
gression,  mankind  are  hurrying  through 
the  shades  of  death,  to  their  etermd 
home.  Multitudes  who  were  lately 
acting  a  conspicuous  part  on  the  stage 
of  this  busy  world,  now  rest  in  their 
graves.  The.scene  is  cbsed,  the  cur- 
tain is  drawn,  and  they  are  hidden 
from  our  view.  **  They  are  ,  gone 
where  there  is  no  distinction;  con** 
signed  to  the  coounon  earth.  A  su^ 
ceeding  generation  fytnU  into  life; 
another,  and  yet  another  billow  has 
rolled  on ;  each  emulating  its  pred»> 
cessor  in  heiglit,  towering  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  curling  its  foaming  honoots 
to  the  clouds ;  then  roaring,  breaking, 
and  perisfaang  on  the  same  shore." 
.  5^otonly  is  human  ontore  to  be  of- 
fered a  sacrifice  to  death,  but  the  fo- 
bricks  which  man  has  reared  to  im- 
mortalize his  memory,  must  sink  into 
oblivion;  so  that  in  the  pathetic  and 
sublime  solemnity  of  the  poet,  we  may 
exclaim, 

"  The  cloud  capp'd  towen,  the  georgeons 
palaces, 

The  8ol«Din  templaft,  the  great  globe  it- 
self. 

Yea,  all  which  it  inhcritt  shall  dissolve  ; 

And  like  the  hasMiless  fabric,  of  a  vision 

Leave  not  a  wreck  behind!" 

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-170 


am  T«B  vrnxTU  aw  tboma* 


rv  WEBB. 


<<Odeatii '  h  is  thine  to  tread  out 
empires,  and  to  quench  the  stars!'' 
While  thus  tossed  on  the  expansive 
ocean  of  desolating  horror^  and  the  an- 
gry tempest  bears  death  in  every  blast, 
where  shall  the  weather-beaten  mari- 
ner on  lif<''s  stormy  sea,  find  a  harbour 
of  defence,  from  the  swelling  tide  of 
bereaving  sorn>w,and  the  pitiless  storm 
of  affliction,  which  threatens  the  final 
dissolution  of  every  tender  bond  of 
friendship  and  humanity  ?  Lift  up  your 
streaming  eyes,  ye  disconsolate  mourn- 
ers, look  through  the  portals  of  your 
shattered  bark,  and  behoK.  the  celes- 
tial dove  descending  through  the  im- 
pelling cloud ;  hovering  on  the  balmy 
wings  of  heavenly  perfume,  and  ex- 
tending the  olive  branch,  plucked  from 
the  tree  of  life  in  the  midst  of  the  Par- 
adise of  God:  the  emblem  of  peace 
and  divine  consolation ;  a  sure  token 
of  the  subsiding  storm. 

^  Hence  hope,  ou  exulting  wings, 
may  rise  to  the  eternal  throne,  for  life 
And  immortality  are  brought  to  light 
by  the  gospel,''  ivhose  messenger  is 
the  dove-like  Spirit  of  God. 

This  is  the  blessed  anchor  of  hope,  of 
which  those  who  are  divinely  illumi- 
uated,  are  possessed.  It  assuac es  the 
sonrow  of  the  mourner,  fills  up  the  va- 
auum  of  bereavement,  and  sustains  in 
life's  last  agony. 

The  shades  of  death  to  an  infidel, 
are  mdeed  terrific  and  gloomy.  He 
-stands  upon  the  brink  of  eternity,  but 
cannot  discover  what  will  be  the  event 
when  he  makes  the  awful  plunge. 
Hence  it  is  death  indeed,  4or  him  to 
die ;  his  imagiuation  beholds  the  gla^ 
mv  monster  before  he  comes,  and 
when  he  makes  the  exterminating 
blow,  the  poor  mortal  sinks— yet  not 
into  repoae. 

But  Co  the  believer,  to  the  virtuous, 
it  is  very  different.  The  scriptures 
almost  invariably  »pmk  of  the  happy 
termination  of  iportnl  existence,  as  u 
sleep,  a  state  of  sweet  repose ;  a  rest 
firom  labour,  a  deliverance  from  pain 
"  i  htrt:  ihf?  wickt^d  cease  from  trou 
bling,  and  there  the  weary  are  at  rest. 


There  the  prisoners  rest  together^ 
They  hear  not  the  voice  of  the  op- 
pressor. The  small  and  the  great  are 
there,  aad  the  servant  is  freed  (torn 
his  master."  And  he  who  sleeps  in 
the  arms  of  Jesus,  is  not  only  corpora 
ally  at  rest,  but  the  ^  vital  spark  of 
heavenly  fiame"  flies  lo  the  great  ori* 
ginal  fountain  of  light  from  whence  it 
emanated,  and  rests  in  the  bosom  of 
its  eternal  God,  enjoying  all  that  eche- 
rial  bliss  which  its  exiwnded  powers 
are  capable  of  receiving  through  eter- 
nity. How  desirable  b  it  to  the  fra^ 
grile,  sickly  nature  of  man,  thus  to  meet 
with,  and  welcome  death,  as  a  lon^ 
expected  friend  of  relief;  to  have  the 
cold  damp  cell  of  clay  converted  ioto^ 
an  .easy  bed  of  angelic  down ;  and  for 
the  soul  to  rise  from  nature's  ruins,  to 
the  unclouded  smuhine  of  Heaven's 
eternal  day. 

But  what  evidence  have  we  that 
this  is  the  happy  termination  of  any  ? 
How  shall  we  be  released  from  the 
corroding  gloomy  thoughts,  that  in  the 
loss  of  those  whom  we  love  and  es» 
teem,  we  lose  every  thing,  and  that  all 
the  world  becomes  a  blank?  The 
openmg  Heaven  for  the  reception  of 
Elijah,  shows  humanity's  admittance 
there,  and  the  blessed  hope  at  which 
we  slightly  glanced,  dissolves  the  mu 
of  dull  mortality;  it  wide  expands 
Heaven's  golden  gates,  and  poura  a 
flood  of  day  on  poor  benighted  nor- 
uls. 

But  Oh !  can  there  live  one  dark, 
hopeless  idolater  of  chance,  beneatk 
the  broad  expanse  of  heaven,  content 
to  dismiss  all  immortal  energy,  and 
call  this  barren  world  sufficient  bliss  ? 
thou  wretched  infidel !  thou  poor  pil- 
grim of  a  day,  wedded  in  joyless  unioa 
to  the  dust,  gUtteriog  dust,  afibrdiog  a 
momentary  fire  to  light  you  to  the 
grave,  and  tliere  to  sink  in  night  and 
silence,  and  rise  no  more  !  awake  to 
hope;  that  ^  hope  which  maketh  not 
ashamed." 

What  would  yon  do  on  the  dashing 
waves  of  the  expansive  ocean,  made 
angry  by  tl^e  sweeping  Mann,  without 

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OH  THK  WfEATB  OT  IVOHAt  SMITH  WBBB. 


die  tncbor's  firm  find  peoetratiiie^ 
■KMnrine :  whHe  livid  flashes  of  Heav- 
CD's  fire  gave  yoa  a  momentary  ^ance 
i^tlie  fewrful  desolation  on  which  you 
were  feat  drifting;  ^  and  th»  than* 
der's  repercnrsive  roar  loud  bellowed 
througfa  the  affirighted  deep?^  This 
^cture,  however  gloomy,  will  not  suf- 
ficiently set  forth  the  condition  of  the 
■liad  of  the  infidel,  tossed  on  the  sea 
of  tumoltuous  distress,  in  dreadfiil 
ancertainty  respecting  a  fiituee  state, 
witliont  that  blessed  hope  which  is  an 
anchor  to  the  sool.  The  tremendous 
dreary  abyss  is  just  ahead ;  the  irre- 
fistibie  whirlwind  of  God's  eternal 
fiiry  is,  with  inconceivable  velocity 
borsting  on  the  rear :  while  the  proud 
billows  of  remorseful  agony  penetrate 
tbe  sinkinc:  soul,  and  complete  its  eter- 
nal anguish.  O  how  wretched  is  the 
man  withoot  hope,  the  blessed  hope 
of  the  gospel !  then  shall  we  not  seek 
to  possess  it? 

Are  we  subject  to  every  degree  of 
temporal  sofiering,  calamity,  and  sor- 
row ?  Is  there  not  in  every  flower  a 
thorn  ?  in  every  dasding  prospect  of 
terrestrial  felicity,  an  inconceivable 
degree  of  real  disapointment  ?  Friends 
cannot  save  or  support  us  ;  for  from 
tlM«i  we  must  be  parted  asunder; 
Ood  only  can. 

O  what  is  man  !  poor,  feeble,  and 
wretched,  his  days  few  and  full  of 
sorrow.  Yet  he  frequently  towers  to 
Heaven  in  imagination  ;  grasps  the 
universe  in  his  arms ;  shakes  the  earth 
#ith  Iris  bustle,  and  in  pride  out-caps 
the  most  exalted  mountains.  He  glit- 
ters with  shining  dust,  rolb  in  pleas- 
ure, riots  in  laxury,  and  walks  roaje»- 
tk  as  a  god  !  yet  this  great  indepen- 
dent sell^fficient  being  is  of  few  days, 
and  without  hops,  is  wretched  beyond 
description.  Is  it  possible,  that  in  a 
temporal  respect,  there  is  not  a  single 
cup  for  man,  but  that  of  wretchedness, 
filled  with  wormwood  and  gall ;  not  a 
nngle  day  of  those /ear  but  that  wfuU 
•f  trouble  ?  Disappointment  and  af- 
fliction in  variety  beset  him.  and  ar< 
appointed  to  snatch  every  oonsolatton 


away,  and  to  pierce  hm  thrwgh  wiA. 
ten  thousand  sorrows,  hven  theve^ 
fined  sensibility  of  the  heart,  is  the 
food  of  ita  own  wretchedness.  Henoi 
the  look  of  disappontmeot  at  earthly 
losses ;  hence  the  pang  of  misplaced 
confidence ;  heiice  the  sigh  of  wretcb- 
edness,  the  groan  of  bereavement,  the 
sympathy  of  suflerii^,  the  torture  of 
oppression,  the  agony  of  death.  O 
man,  thy  cup  is  the  cop  of  bitterness  ; 
and  thy  heart  the  receptacle  of  woe ! 
Where  sbal^  we  fly  for  relief  from  thk 
accumulation  of  agonixing  sorrow?  O 
Faith  !  thou  ^  substance  of  things  • 
hoped  for,  the  evidence  of  things  not 
seen,''  we  look  to  thee.  O  hope ! 
<<  thon  anchor  of  the  soul^  sure  and 
steadfast,  and  which  entereth  into  that 
within  tbe  veB,"  we  rest  on  thee. 
Sweet  Charity  divine !  which  beareik 
all  things,  htHeveth  all  things,  hopetk 
all  things,  and  endurethaU  things;  we 
embrace  thee. 

Ye  triune  graces  of  the  triune  God; 
sent  firom  the  regions  of  eternal  cooso* 
lation,  to  the  poor,  forlomv  wretched 
abode  of  earth's  weeping  orphans;  wo 
would  cherish  you  in  our  nearts,  and 
by  your  divine  influence,  would  we  rise 
above  tbe  storm,  and  stand  unmoved^ 

'*  Like  some  tall  rock,  which  rean  its  sW« 

ful  (ormy 
Swells  from  tiM  vale,  aad  addnay  leai^s 

tbs  storm ; 
Thoof  b  rolUo^  clouds  around  its  broaH  ars. 

spread, 
Eteroa)  sunshii^e  settles  on  its  head.** 

Thou  afflicted  daiugbter  of  oqr  belov- 
ed father  and  brother;  the  solitary 
mourner  in  these  western  wilds,  may 
we  not,  although  thou  art  absent  oa 
this  occasion,  be  permitted  to  speak  to 
thee  in  the  language  of  sjrmpathy  and 
condolence;  especially  as  thy  fiur  sis- 
ters of  this  assembly,  do  cheerfiilly  ra^ 
present  thee.  How  often  hast  thoo  cri* 
ed  <<  My  father,  mv  father."  Restraia 
thy  grief,  and  let  thy  sorrow  be  assna* 
ged ;  ahbough  his  weU-known,  tune* 
ful  voice,  no  more  accompanies  thv 
harp  of  solemn  sound,  yet  we  hope  it 
sounds  in  Hswrm^  and  that  he  hi» 

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172 


ON  TMfi   DBATB  OT  THOMAS  flttt^   WSBB* 


§m»e  to  ike  saUbrioas  climes  of  eternal 
day,  into  which  the  torture  of  paio, 
the  anguish  of  sin,  nor  the  darts  of  ma- 
levolence can  ever  penetrate.  The 
lanjnia^e  of  departed  spirits,  is  ^  weep 
not  for  me,  but  for  yourseives."  You 
are  in  a  weeping  world,  but  the  reli- 
gion of  our  Great  High  Priest,  proves 
a  regard  for  the  sorrows  of  the  afflict^ 
ed,  infinitely  soothing  and  supporting. 
^  It  changes  the  thorny  couch  into  a 
bed  of  down ;  closes  with  a  touch,  the 
wounds  of  the  soul,  and  converts  a  wil- 
derness of  woe  into  the  borders  of  pa* 
radise.  When  you  are  forced  to  drink 
the  cup  of  bitterness,  mercy,  at  your 
call,  will  stand  by  your  side,  and  min- 
gle sweetness  with  the  draught ;  while, 
with  the  voice  of  aiildness  and  conso- 
lation, she  will  whisper  to  you  that 
these  unpalatable  afflictions  will  assu- 
redly establish  in  3rou  immortal  health. 
The  same  sweetner  of  life  will  accom- 
pany you  to  tlie  end,  and  seating  her- 
s«lf  by  your  dying  bed,  will  draw  aside 
the  curtains  of  eternity^  and  witt  bid 
you  close  your  eyes  on  the  end  of  sor- 
row, pain  and  bereavement ;  and  in  the 
opening  gates  of  peace  and  glory,  will 
point  to  y<Hir  view,  angelic  choirs  wait- 
ing to  hail  your  arrival. 

Among  the  various  arguments  of 
consolation,  on  the  loss  of  our  friend ; 
an  important  one  is  drawn  from  the 
pleasing  hope  of  a  future  meeting,  in 
perfect  felicity.  Grief  subsides  into  a 
tender  soothing  rememberauce,  and 
the  mind  is  comforted  with  joyful  ex- 
pectation of  one  day  seeing  them 
again ;  meting  (never  more  to  sepa- 
rate) those  whom  death  hath  torn  from 
our  affectionate  embraces,  and  remov* 
ed  a  little  before  us,  to  our  Heavenly 
Father's  house  above. 

Into  the  arms  of  a  mereifol  Savour 
mt  commit  you.  To  hhn  who  hath 
promised  to  protect  the  fatheriess,  and 
the  orphan,  from  the  grasp  of  unfeel- 
ing avarice,  and  smiling  treachery ; 
and  who  will  plead  your  cause  at  the 
bar  of  Heaven's  high  chancery.  He 
will  guid(?  you  by  his  counsel,  and  af- 
tarwaiids  rcaehre  yon  ta  glory. 


WonhipMMiistttr,  Wardens,  aiki] 

of  Centre  Star  Lod(;e,  mad  viiitiog  Breth- 
ren, 

Melancholy  and  interesting  is  ths 
scene  which  visits  our  eyes  thb  day* 
It  casts  a  mournful  ray  on  the  feeble^ 
ness  of  human  nature,  and  awakens  the 
soul  to  its  highest  interest.     Here  we 
behold  the  termination  of  our  terrestri- 
al career,  and  the  commeaceiDent  of 
an  immutable  eternity.    <<  Man  goetb 
to  his  long  home,  and  the  mourners  gi> 
about  the  streeu.^'     The  silver  cord 
is  loosed,  the  golden  bowl  is  broken, 
our  harp  is  turned  to  mourning,  and 
our  oigan  into  the  voice  of  them  that 
weep.     Ovr  father  and  our  brother  has 
left  us.     He  has,  we  hope,  been  hon- 
ourably  dischai^ged ;  has  passed  with 
the  approbation  of  the  Grand  Tyler 
of  this  earthly  lodge,  and  by  the  sue* 
cessive  gradations  ^  inaprovement,  as* 
cended  to  the  Grand  Lodge  above^ 
We  have  saluted  him  on  the  equality 
of  mystery,  and  he  has  left  us  on  the 
square  of  infallible  equity.     Although 
eialted  in^harocter,  and  in  rank,  yH 
he  always  walked  upon  the  level  widi 
a  brother,  and  his. extensive  benevo* 
lence  embraced  the  great  circle  of 
mankind.     In  his  notions  he  was  gov* 
emed  by  the  t^More,  and  kept  within 
the  compoMt  of  good  will  to  all  laeo* 
He  was  indeed  a  great  light,  sent  to  us 
by  the  Grand  Master  above,  to  ilhjuii- 
nateour  darkness  here  below.     But 
those  eyes  which  looked  with  so  much 
pleasure  on  a  brother,  are  now. closed 
in  death.     Those  ears  which  have  lis* 
tened  with  so  much  attention  to  their 
complaints,  are  now  stopped  in  dust} 
and  the  hands  which  have  been  so  oA 
ten  extended  to  relieve  their  wants,  and 
their  distresses,  will  never  more  be  rai- 
sed,   lake  a  rooming  star,  he  dawned 
in  the  ea»t,  with  increasing  splendour  $ 
he  arose  to  the  senitb  of  glory  but  sud- 
denly sunk  in  the  wett.     Let  us  catch 
the  last  twinkUng  rays,  and  by  theai 
read  the  great  lesson  of  obligation  de- 
volving upon  us.     He  has  resigned  hia 
office  as  master,  his  seat   is  empty  | 
he  has  now  no  more  occasion  for  fevpf 

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KIBW  DTftVIStTIOft. 


m 


w  pkaAHm.  H »  worii  ii  compk- 
led ;  he  has  passed  the  veiU  of  trial 
aod  afflkticMi.  He  has  presented  the 
trae  mgmei  and  has  been  accepted. 
He  bas  made  good  his  defence  in  dis- 

gayinf  the  red  banners  of  the  cross, 
e  has  terminated  his  wvnry  pibri- 
■age,  bavh^  seen  the  stone  rolled 
from  the  month  of  the  holy  Sepvlchre, 
and  we  believe  now  mingles  his  rays 
with  the  iwehe  hmmdriet^  where 
there  is  no  defecHtm^-^mA  that  he  b 
now  qnnfling  the  hist,  the  sweet  libap 
tion  of  eternal  joy^noc  from  the  bitter 
cnp  of  mortality,  bat  from  the  fountain 
of  immortality  itself.  And  is  it,  in- 
deed true  that  our  beloved  master  is 
no  more ;  u  he  ^one  who  was  the 
head,  the  strength,  and  the  glory  of 
our  fraternity?  how  spontaneously 
will  each  of  us  pay  htm  the  meritori- 
ous tribute  of  pathetically  exclaiming, 
«*  my  father,  my  Either  !  the  chariot 
of  Israel,  and  the  horsemen  tiiereof." 
Brethren, 
Let  us  endeavour  to  imbibe  a  dou- 
ble poitiOD  of  his  spirit ;  let  us  copy 
the  bright  example  of  this  oor  belo- 
ved brother,  and  by  a  sacred  re^rd 
to  his  memory,  and  our  own  solemn 
engagements,  pursue  with  unremitted 
asnduity,  the  tenets  of  our  profession. 
Let  w  feed  the  hungry,  clothe  the  na- 
ked,  viait  the  sick  and  afflicted,  do  fus- 
tice,  love  mercy,  and  walk  humbly 
with  oor  God.  Then  shall  we  be  a- 
We  to  silence  ^  the  tribe  of  scomers, 
and  to  convince  them,  the  only  quali- 
ties we  wish  to  honour,  are  those 
which  fi)rm  eood  men,  ami  good  citi- 
zens ;  and  the  only  buiidincfs  we  seek 
to  raise,  are  temples  for  vntue.  and 
dungeons  for  vice.*'  And  O  !  let  us 
•hove  aU,  seek  for  and  cherish  that 
liope  which  is  as  an  anchor  tatbe  soul, 
ami  which  exults  in  the  prospect  of 
the  boundless  joys  of  Heaven. 

'^Elemal  hope,  when  yonder  spheres 
wblime, 
FssJ'dtheriret  Botes,  to  soandthe  march 

of  time; 
Ihv:  joyous  youth  began,  byt  not  to  fade 
Wben  uA  the  sister  plimets  hare  decay'd  ; 


Wbenwinp*dia  «rs,te  i«ahnsoC«thar 

glow, 
And  heaven's  last  thunder  shakes  the  world 

below, 
ThdOr  nndtsoMy'd,  shall  o*«r  the  nkm 

smile. 
And  light  thy  torch  at  nature's  funeral  pile.' 


A  NBW  INQUISITION. 

The  Western  (PeuDsylvania)  Regis- 
ter says — "  We  are  informed  that  at 
the  last  meeting  of  the  Presbyterian 
Synod  of  Pittsburg,  some  of  the  clergy 
introduced  a  resolution  to  exclude 
Free-Masons  from  the  rights  and  bone- 
fits  of  the  Church,  except  in  case 
where  they  might  confess  their  errors, 
and  abjure  their  Masonic  principles.'* 

C7*  We  can  hardly  believe  the 
above  statement  correct,  although 
there  is  no  telling  how  far  ignorance 
and  prejudice  may  lead  the  best  men 
astray ;  for  such  a  proposition  could 
only  have  originated  with  those  who 
are  utterly  ignorant  of  the  principle^ 
of  the  Mosonic  order,  and  who  are 
therefore  prejudiced  against  them,  for 
they  know  not  what.  HThe  society  of 
Masons  includes  a  very  large  propor- 
tion of  the  most  respectable  citizens  in 
Europe  and  America.  The  order 
has  been  preserved,  it  has  erown,  and 
flourished,  for  ages,  and  in  despite  of 
the  most  bitter  and  cruel  persecutions ; 
and  in  the  present  enlightened  age,  any 
body  of  men  might  as  well  attempt  to 
overturn  the  Andes,  as  to  crush  orei^ 
tineuish  it.  Perceivine:  the  streneth 
with  which  the  order  has  taken  root, 
and  the  benefits  it  has  conferred,  and 
is  daily  conferring,  upon  those  socie- 
tii*s  within  the  circle  of  its  influences, 
even  the  Pope  has  ceased  his  opposi- 
tiomand  the  thunders  of  the  Vatican 
are  no  lon^r  rolling  over  the  heads  of 
our  brethren  in  Europe.  And  are 
huUi  of  excommunication  to  be  issued 
against  us  liere,  in  this  land  of  dvil  and 
relidous  freedom  ?  And  who  are  to  be 
thus  singled  out«  and  marked  as  beinc 
without  the  pale  of  the  visible  Church  r 
The  great  body  of  Eree  Masons,  the 
principles  of  whose  order  are  as  pure 


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174 


MASONIC  BLSCTfOMB. 


and  as  cbane  as  the  driftecl  snow : — A 
society  who  are  conffregated  for  the 
delightful  purpose .  of  cementing  the 
bonds  of  union  in  the  great  family  of 
man,  by  promoting  and  cherishing  bro- 
therly love  and  affection  :  Whose  mot- 
to is,  <<  Behold  kdw  good  and  how 
fleasani  ii  it  for  br^hvn  to  dwell  tO' 
gether  in  laiity*^^  Whose  principles 
teach  them  to  feed  the  hungry^  and 
dothe  the  naked  y  to  ease  the  aching 
heart  of  the  father  when  his  children 
are  crying  for  bread,  and  he  has  none 
to  give  :  to  cause  the  widow's  heart 
to  sing  for  joy,  and  to  wipe  the  tear 
from  the  cheek  oi  the  distressed  or- 
phan. And  is  it  for  such  principles, 
such  professions,  and  such  practices, 
that  we  are  to  be  eicluded  <<  from  the 
rights  and  benefits  of  the  Church !" 
Com,  Adv. 

In  addition  to  the  above,  we  would 
request  those  Reverend  Inquisitors  to 
turn  to  the  Gospel  according  to  St. 
Matthew,  and  in  the  sixth  Chapter, 
and  twenmhird  verse  of  that  Chapter, 
they  will  find  these  remarkable  words: 

^  If,  therefore  the  light  that  is  in 
thee  be  darkness,  how  great  is  that 
darkness  f  *' — Preeman^i  Journal. 

MASONIC  ELECTIONS, 

In  the  city  of  New- York,  during  the 

month  of  December  last. 

AlfaENT  CHAPTER,  No.  1. 
M.  E.  Caleb  Bacon,  High  Priest; 
M.  E.  Alexander  Eraser,  King; 
M.  E.  Frederick  L.  Vultee,  Scribe; 
M.  E.  John  Anderton,  Captain  of  the 

Host; 
M.  E.  Thomas  Clark,  Royal  Arch 

Captain ; 
M.  E.  Christian  Lebtner,  Principal 

Sojourner ; 
M.  £.  P.  H.  P.  John  Coffin,  first 

Grand  Master ; 
M.  E.  P.  H.  P.  Richard  Hatfield,  sec 

ond  Grand  Master ; 
M.   E.  Edward  Higgin  third  Grand 

Master; 
M.  E.  P.  H.  P.  Samael  Montgomery, 

Treasurer; 


M.  E.  Alexander  Divrer,    B^pu^ 

Scribe; 
M.  £.  Saarael  Clarii.  Centkiel ; 

Most  excellent  compankms  John 
Coffin,  Alexander  Eraser,  Frevkrick 
L.  Vultee,  Robert  Banks,  and  Pbil^i 
Becanon,  Standing  Cocnmittea. 

Regular  ciMDmnakations  on  lbs 
third  Wednesday  of  every  oKmtfa. 

PHOENIX  CHAPTER,  NO.  a 
M.  E.  Janhes  Thorbum,  Hidi  PrieiC; 
M.  E.  Edmund  Hamilton,  King; 
M.  £.  John  Degee,  Scribe ; 
M.  £.  P.  H.  P.  Asa  Hidl,  Captaiii  of 

the  Host; 
M.  E.  EdoniMl  Copetand,  Piindpri 

Soioumer; 
M.  E.  Daniel  Adams,  Royal  Ardk 

Captain ; 
M.  E.  Edward  Arents,  third  Grand 

Master; 
M.  E.  Edward  Chard,  second  Grand 

Master; 
M.  E.  W.  M<Kenney,  first  Grand 

Master; 
M.  E.  James  Hall,  Treasurer ; 
M.  £.  P.  H.  P.  Sanmel  MaTerkk,  De- 

puty  Scribe; 
M.  E.  Thomas  Scott,  Herald ; 
M.  E.  Hosea  Dodge,  Centinel: 

Most  excdlent  ^Mnpanions,  JaniSr 
Thorbum,  James  Hamilton,  John  De> 
ges,  Asa  Hall,  and  Edmund  Copeland, 
Standing  Committee. 

Regular  communications,  on  the 
second  and  fourth  Mondays  of  every 
month. 

JERUSALEM  CHAPTER,  Na  a 

M.  E.  Christian  Truss,  High  Priest ; 

M.  E.  Charles  N.  Baldwin,  King; 

M.  E.  Thomas M'Cready,  Scribe; 

M.  E.  Eplnraim  Beman,  Captain  of  the 
Host; 

M.  E.  Peter  Brewer,  Principal  So- 
journer ; 

M.  E.  Jacob  Whitman)  Royal  Arch 
Captain ; 

fd.  E.  Luther  Pratt,  third  Grand  Mas- 
ter; 

M.  E.  .^ohn  I.  Qantz,  second  Grand 
Master; 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MAtoinc  BtBCnOflf. 


m 


If.  E«  Linker  Hioes,  fiwt  Grand  Mas- 
ter; 
M.  C.  Patrick  Mott,  Deputy  Scribe ; 
If.  E.  Thadeus  Whkiock,  TreaMirer ; 
H.  E.  Oeei|[e  WaMer,  Herald  $ 
M.  e.  John  Vttf  Ceatinel. 

Most  exceUent  compaaioas  John 
Utt,  Charies  N.  Baldwin,  Thomas 
M^Cready,  William  Patterson,  and 
Ephraim  Beman,  Standiu|v  Committee. 
Regular  communications  on  the  sec- 
ond i^id  fourth  Wednesda3rs  of  every 


RISING  SUN  CHAPTER,  NO  Id. 
M.  E.  Silas  Lyon,  High  Priest  j 
M.  E.  John  M.  Lester,  King; 
M.  E.  Joel  Jones,  Scribe; 
M.  £.  Gair  Blanchard,  Captain  of  the 

Host; 
M.  E.  Pierre  T.  Decevee,  Principal 

Scnoumer; 
M.  E-   Anthony  Thompson,  Royal 

Arch  Captain; 
M.  E.  Charles  Herwick,  tkurd  Grand 

Master; 
M.  E.  Martin  Brabant,  second  Grand 

Master; 
M.  E.  John  Gassner  first  Grand  Mas- 
ter; 
M.  E.  Thomas  Slade,  Deputy  Scribe; 
M.  E.  James  Hazleion,  Treasurer ; 
M.  E.  Joseph  Taylor;  Centinel. 

Most  excellent  companions  Silas 
Lyon,  John  M.  Lester,  Joel  Jones, 
Ransom  Beach,  and  Francis  Obry, 
Standing  Committee. 

Regukir  communications  on  the  se 
cond  and  fourth  Thursdays  of  every 
month. 

FREDONIAN  CHAPTER,  NO.  19. 
M.  E.  William  D.   Morgan,  High 

Priest; 
M.  E.  Benjamin  W.  Peck,  King; 
M.  E.  Hosca  Dodge,  Scribe ; 
M.  E.  Isaac  B.  Camp,  Captain  of  the 

Host; 
M.  E.  Leonard  Dunkley,  Prmcipal 

Sojourner; 
M.  E.  Paul  Laropson,  Royal  Arch 

Captain ; 


M.  E.G.  Maffaii,  third  GMd  Master; 
M.  E.  John  TdOBur,  second  Graaa 

Master; 
M.  E.  ThMMs  Barker,  fiist  Grand 
.Master; 
M.  E.  James  C.  LeAngwell,  Deputy 

Scribe; 
M.  E.  Thaddeus  Seymour,  Treasurer; 
M.  E.  Simeon  Van  Beuren,  Herald; 
iVf.  E.  Levi  Nathan,  CentineL 

Most  excellent  companion^  William 
D.  Morgan,  Benjamin  W.  Peck,  Hosea 
Dodge,  Isaac  B.  Camp,  Leonard  Dunk- 
ley,  Standing  Committee. 

Regular  communications  on  the 
first  and  third  Thursdays  of  every 
month. 


EAGLE  CHAPTER,  NO.  54. 
The  officers  of  this  chapter  stand 
the  same  as  they  did  last  year,  with 
the  exception  of  M.  E.  companion 
Levi  Nathan,  having  been  appointed 
t^tinel.     See  No.  3,  page  90. 

PAST  HIGH  PRIESTS. 

See  No  3,  page  89|  for  the  namei 
of  all  the  past  high  priests  of  every 
chapter  in  the  city. 

The  meetings  of  all  the  Rojdl  Arch 
Chapters  m  the  dty  of  New- York,  are 
held  at  St.  John's  HaU,  No  8  Frank- 
fort-street, kept  by  companion  Hosba 


ST.  JOHN'S  LODGE,  NO.  1. 

Br.  Smith  Ovutt,  Worshlpftil  Master; 

Br.  Richard  E.  Ptardy,  Senior  War- 
den; 

Br.  John  B.  Spier,  Junior  Warden ; 

Br.  Charles  Ripl^^  Senior  Deacon ; 

Br.  Thomas  D.  Miller^  Junior  Dea^ 
con;  ^ 

Brs.  Isaac  M.  Hand,  and  George  Car- 
roll.  Masters  of  Ceremonies ; 

Brs.  W.  P.  M.  Lewis  Seymour,  and 
W.  P.  M.  WiUiam  Lawrence,  Stew- 


Br.  Bryan  Rossetter,  Tyler; 
Brs.  W.  P.  M.  Thaddeus  Seymour, 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


I7« 


tfAtomc  tLBcnoM«. 


W.  M.  SmitK  OnMt^Rlclwrd  C.  Pur- 
Ay,  and  Jolni  B.  Spier,  Standiiig  Com- 
mittee. 

Regular  eommunicatloM  on  the  sec- 
ond and  fourth  Thursdays,  from  the 
25lh  of  September,  to  the  2:  th  of  May, 
and  the  remainder  of  the  year  every 
second  Tburaday,  at  Tammany  Hall. 

INDEPENDENT  ROYAL   ARCH 

LODGE,   NO.  2. 

Br.    George    MOCinley,    Worshipful 

Master ; 
Br.  Henry  William  Ducachet,  Senior 

Warden : 
Br.  John,  Nesbit   Hawthorn,  Junior 

Warden ; 
Br.  William  L.  Mentis,  Secretary ; 
Br.  Aaron  Foantaia,  Treasurer  $ 
Br.  Moses  Cunoingharay  Senior  Dea- 
con; 
Br.  Jacob  WyckofT,  Junior  Deacon ; 
Brs.  Richard  Pennell,  and  William 

H.  Coleman,  Masters  of  Ceremonies  ^ 
Br.  Nicholas  Rosse,  Steward ; 
Br.  Alexander  (^auley,  Tyler. 

Brothers  William  D.  WHson,  Wil- 
liam E.  Ross,  Detloff  Henry  Schmidt, 
John  C.  Green,  Theodore  M.  Moore, 
Standinef  Committee. 

Regular  commnnkatioBs,  on  the 
the  second  and  fourth  Mondays  in  eve- 
ry month,  at  the  City  Hotel* 

ST.  ANDREW'S  LODGE,  NO  7. 

Br.  Martin  E.  Thompson,  Wgrshipful 
Master; 

Br.  Thaddeus  Wbitlock,  Senior  War- 
den; 

Br.  Josiah  Hoxie,  Junior  Warden  | 

Br.  James  B.  Walker,  Secretary ; 

Br.  Henry  W.  Peckwell,  Treasurer. 

Br.  Samuel  Walker,  Senior  Deacon; 

Br.  John  Coats,  Junior  Deacon; 

Brs. Rogers,  and  Motes  Y.  Scott, 

Masters  of  Ceremonies ; 

ftrs.  John  Feamley,  and  John  Febrick, 
Stewards ; 

Br.  Sebastian  Mitchell,  Expert; 

Br.  Bryan  Rossetter,  Tyler ; 

Worshipful    Past    Masters    John 

Leonard^  Thomas  W.  Gamiss,  Vallen- 


thw  Van  Oe  Watttr,  and  Bts.  Henry 
W.  Peckwell,  and  A.  Ledentee, Stand- 
ing Committee. 

Regular  commanieations  o*  the  sec- 
ond and  fbordi  Fridays  of  cwiy 
month,  at  Tammany  Hall. 

ST.  JOHN'S  LObGE,  NO.  9. 

Br.  James  Lyons  jr.  Worshipful  Mas- 
ter; 

Br.  Robert  Bumside,  Senior  Warden ; 

Br.    Alexander    Diwer,  jr.    Junior 
Warden ; 

Br.  Samuel  B.  Burgess, Secretary; 

Br.  James  Lyonr,  jr.  Treasurer; 

Br.. John  Cochran,  Senior  Deacon; 

Br.  John  O.  Clark,  Jnnior  Deacon ; 

Brs.  James  Wilkie,  and  John  C.  Era- 
ser, Masters  of  Ceremonies ; 

Brs.  Daniel  Phillips,  and  Paul  Healey^ 
Stewards ; 

Br.  Patrick  Millen  Tyler; 
Brs.  W.  P.  M.  James  LyoBs,jr.  W. 

P.  M.  Samuel  B.  Flemming,  Jame» 

Wilkie,  John  C.  Eraser,  Rolmt  Bum- 
side,  Standiug  Committee. 

Regular  Communications    on    the 

second  and  fourth  Wednesdays  of  eve^ 

ry  month,  at  St.  John's  Hall. 

HIRAM  LODGE,  NO.  10. 
Br.  William  F.  Stevenson,  Worsliip- 

fal  Master; 
Br.  Charles  G.  Ferris.  Senior  Warden  ^ 
Br.  Robert  Phillips,  Junior  Warden ; 
Br.  W.  P.  M.  Samuel  Montgomery, 

Treasurer; 
Br.  John  R.  Le  Count,  Secretary; 
Br.  David  Fenton,  Senior  Deacon ; 
Br.  John  Timson,  Junior  Deacon ; 
Brs.  William  Schureman^  and  George 

West,  Masters  of  Ceremonies  ; 
Brs.  Robert  W.  Keating,  and  Dennis 

Hannigan,  Stewards ; 
Br.  Samuel  Wood,  Tyler.. 

Brs.  W.  P.  M.  Resolvent  Stevens, 
Charles  G.  Ferriss,  Robert  PhiUips, 
Charles  Thompson,  and  Henry  Hemp- 
sted,  Standing  Committee. 

Regulrr  communications  on  the  first 
and  third  Tuesdays  of  every  month,  at 
St.  John's  Hall. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MASONIC  XLICTIONf. 


177 


HOLLAND  "LOpcit,  NO.  10. 
9r*  Efias  Hicks,  Worshipfal. Master 
Ibr.  Edward  Seaman,  Seotor  Warc^ea ; 
Br.  John  D.  Meyer,  Junior  Warden ; 
Br.  Francis  Barretts,  jr.  Secretary ; 
Br.  William  Delafield,  Treasurer; 
Br.  Edward  Hardv,  Senior  Deacon ; 
Br.  Ed^^ard  N.  Twer,  Junior  Deacon ; 
Brs.  Charles  G/ Haines,  and  Thomas 

Carteri  Masters  of  Ceremonies. 
Br.  Samuel  Sharp,  Tyler; 

Brs.  W.  P^  M.  Alexander  S.  Glass, 
W.  P.  M.  Abi^iam  Lott,  Robert  M' 
Memiomy,  Benjamin  P.  Kissam,  John 
B.  Yates,  Standing  Committee. 

Regnlar  commonications  on  the  first 
and  uiird  Tuesdays  of  every  month, 
attheCityHoCd. 

TRINITY  LODGE,  NO.  39. 
Br.  Thomas  Clark,  Worshipful  Master; 
Br.  James  G.  Finn,  Senior  Warden ; 
Br.  David  Medler,  Junior  Warden ; 
Br.  Charles  Byrne,  Secretary ; 
Br.  Gilbert  Lewb,  Treasurer ; 
Br.  Ephraim  Beemao,  Senior  Deacon ; 
Br.  Peter  Byrne,  Junior  Deacon ; 
Br.  Peter  T..  Decevee,  and  William 

CyLerry  Masters  of  Ceremonies ; 
Brs.  John  M^Carr,  and  Luke  Doyle, 

Stewards: 
Br.  Andrew  Forrister,  Tyler. 

Brs.  W.  P.  M.  Archibald  M'Coulm, 
John  M^Carr.  David  Medler,  James  G. 
Finn,  and  Hunt  Underbill,  Standing 
Committee. 

Regular  communications  on  the  sec- 
ond and  fourth  Mondays  of  every 
Month. 

PH(EN1X  LODGE,   NO.  4a 

Br.  W.  P.  M.  George  Hodgson,  Wor- 
shipful Master; 

Br.  W.  P.  M.  James  R.  Stuart,  Sen- 
ior  Warden ;  ' 

Br.  W.  P.  M.  Pierre  Teller,  Junior 
Wardens 

Br.  William  Willson,  Secretary ; 

Br.  Thomas  Jeremiah,  Treasurer ; 

Br.  Calvin  Poullard,  Senior  Deacon ; 

Br.  James  T.  Harding,  Junior  Deacon ; 
Brs.  James  C.  L^AngweU^  and  W. 


P.  Sheys,  Masters  of  Ceremoniies ; 
Br.  Bryan  Rossetter,  Tyler. 

R^lar  communications  on  the 
second  and  fourth  Wednesday  of  ev^ 
ry  month,  at  Tanunany  Halt 

L'UNION  FRANCAISE  LODGE,  NO,  74. 
Br.  Joseph  Bouchaud,  Venerable ; 
Br.  E.  Millon,  Premier  Sorveiilant ; 
Br.  L.  Dias,  Second  SurveiUant; 
Br.  J.  Carret,  Secretaire; 
Br.  P.  Dessomme,  Tresorier ; 
Brs.  Etienne,  and  Martinet,  Maitres 

Cereroo. ; 
Br.  A.  Demontaigue,  Garde  du  Ten^ 

pie; 

Regular  communications,  on  the 
first  and  third  Fridays  of  every  month, 
at  die  City  Hotel. 

ABRAM'8  LODGE,  NO.  88. 
Br.    James   A.  Moore,    Worshipful 

Master; 
Br.  Amos  Hulse,  Senior  Warden ; 
Br.  Luther  Claik,  Junior  Warden ; 
Br.  W.  P.  M.  John  Coffin, Secretary; 
Br.  W.  P.  M.  Zebedee  Ring,  Trea*. 

urer; 
Br.  William  Cheesman,  Senior  Dea- 
con; 
Br.  John  Hawley,  Junior  Deacon : 
Brs.    Lyman    Mead,    and     Stephen 

Ketcham,  Stewards ; 
Brs.  W.  P.  M.  Jafnes  Webster,  and 

W.  P.  M.  Robert  Young,  Masters 

of  Ceremonies ; 
Br.  Samuel  Bliss,  Tyler; 

Worshipful  Past  Masters,  Robert 
Young,  William  Bakewell,  Daniel  D. 
Smith,  and  James  Webster,  and  Br. 
William  Cheeseman,  •Standmg  Com- 
mittee. 

Regular  Communications,  on  the 
first  and  third  Mondajrs  of  every 
month,  at  St  John's  Hall. 

WASHINGTON  LODGE,  NO.  84. 
Br.  William  Hampton>   Worshipfiil 

Master ; 
Br.  Hosea  Dodge,  Senior  Warden ; 
Br.  Asa  Butmau,  Junior  Warden ; 
Br.  Isaac  B.  Camp,  Secretary; 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MASONIC  XLECTI0N8. 


a7S 

Br.  W,  P.  M.  Aiher  MarUoy  Treasurer ; 

Br.  W.  P.  M.  Silas  Lyon,  Senior  Dea- 
con; 

Br.  John  Adams,  Junior  Deacon ; 

Brs.  W.  P.  M.  John  Brady, and  Thom- 
as S.  Potter,  Masters  of  Ceremonies. 

Br.  Joseph  Renville,  and  Br.  Lewis 
Evans,  Stewards ; 

Br.  Stephen  Garthwait,  Tyler. 

Brs.   W.    M.   William    Hampton, 

Hosea  Dodge,  Asa  Biitraan,  W.  P.  M 

Silas  Lyon,  W.  P.  M.  John  Brady, 

Standing  Committee.  . 

Regular  communications  on  the  first 

and  third  Tuesdays  of  every  month, 

it  St.  John's  Hall. 


WARREN  LODGE,  NO.  86. 
Br.  Abraham  Rider,  Worshipful  Mas- 
ter; 
Br.  Robert  Dingee,  Senior  Warden ; 
Br.  W.  B.  Cozens,  Junior  Warden  5 
Br.  Silas  Duncan,  Secretary,    • 
Br.  W.  P.  M.Richard Hatficld,^ Treas- 
urer; 
Br.  J.  McDonald,  Senior  Deacon ; 
Br.  J.  C.  Cooper,  Junior  Deacon ; 
Br.  Joseph  Jacobs,  Tyler; 

Brs.  W.  M.  Rider,  Duncan,  Din- 
gee,  Palmer,  and  Cozens,  Standing 
Committee. 

Regular  Communicatioi^,  on  the 
first  and  third  Tuesdays  of  every 
month,  at  Tammany  Hall. 

ADEL«'HI  LODGE,  NO.  91. 

Br.  Tunis  Bergfa,  Worshipful  Master; 

Br.  John  P.  G^niss,  Semor  Warden ; 

Br.  James  A.  Smith,  Junior  Warden ; 

Br.  W.  P.  M.  John  D.  Brown,  Treas- 
urer ; 

Br.  George  Scriba,  Secretary; 

Br.  penjamin  Lowerre,  SeniorDeacon  5 

Br.  John  Hart,  Junior  Deacon ; 

Brs.  W.  P.  M.  John  I.  Boyd,  and  W. 
P.  M.  Matthew  Reed,  Masters  of 
Ceremonies  j 

Brs.  John  Guion,  and  Arthur  Hirst, 
Stewards ; 

Br.  Samuel  Shaip,  Tyler ; 

Worshipful  Past  Masters  John  D. 

Brown,  John  I.  Boyd,  William  G. 


Hunter,  Matthew  Bred,  and  Br.  Johif 
Solomons,  Standing  Committee. 

Regular  Coi^unications  on  tbie. 
tirst  and  third  Thursdays  of  every 
month,  at  the  City  Hotel 

FRATERNAL  LODGE,  NO.  107. 

Br.  Jonas  HumbeA,  juo.  Worshipfol 
Master ; 

Br.  W.  P.M.  David  L  Daniels,  Se- 
nior Warden ; 

Br.  Charles  Elmer,  Jnnior  Warden ; 

Br.  Joseph  Whitman  Seoretary ; 

Br.  W,  P.  M.  John  Ditchett,  Treas- 
urer; 

Br.  P.  M^Keon,  Senior  Deacon ; 

Br.  Charles  West,  Junior  Deacon ;     . 

Br.  John  Brown,  Tyler ; 
Brs.  W.  M.  Humbert,  W.  P.  M. 

Daniels,    and    W.  P.   M.  Djtchetl^ 

Standing  Committee. 

Regular   communications  on  the 

first  and  third  Mondays    of  every 

month,  at  Tammany  Hall. 

MORTON  LODGE,  NO.  106. 

Br.  Benjamin  W.  Peck,  W^orshipful 
Master  ; 

Br.  Joel  Curtis,  Senior  Warden ; 

Br.  Robert  Wauchope,  Junfor  War^ 
den ; 

Br.  William  F.  Piatt,  Secretary  5 

Br.  James  Dukes,  Treasurer ; 

Br.  John  Dixon,  Senior  Deacon ; 

Br.  Joseph  Knapp,  Junior  Deacon ; 

Brs.  James  Tay{or,  Morris  Fitzger- 
ald, Masters  qt  Ceremonies ; 

Brs.  Ilobert  Ba/nes  and  Andrew  Wal- 
lace, StewaHs ; 

Br.  Alexander  Bruce,  Tyler ; 

Brs.  Joel  Curtis,  Robert  Wauchope, 

W.  P.  M.  Daniel  Sickles,  James  Bal- 

lantine,  and  Eldward  Copeland,  Stand- 

ii^  Committee. 

Regular    communications  on  the 

first  and  third  Thursdays  of  every 

month,  at  St.  John's  Hall. 

MOUNT  MORL\H  LODGE,  NO.  132. 
Br.  David  Haselton,  Worshipful  Mas- 
ter; 
Br.  William  P.  Hallett,  Senior  Warden; 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MASONIC  ELKCTIONS. 


1» 


Br.  Bartholomew  De  La  Pierre^  Sen- 
ior Warden ; 

Br.  John  F.  Spear,  Secretary  5 

Br.  W.  P.  M.  Geoi^  W.  Hyer,  Treas- 
urer; 

Br.  Abraham  Frazer,  Senior  Deacon ; 

Br.  Daniel  VaiL  Junior  Deacon  ; 

Brs.  Jatftes  L.  Hedenberg,  and  James 
Holmesy  Masters  of  Ceremonies ; 

Brs.  CcHinid  Sweet,  and  Robert  R. 
Waddell,  Stewards ; 

Jk.  Wifliam  Fisher,  Tyler; 

Brs.  WUliam  P.  Hallett,  W.  P.  M. 

John  M .  Lester,  W.  P.  M.  Bernard 

Sprong,  Bartholoinew  De  La*  Pierre, 

and  W.  P.  M.  Simeon  Van  Beuren, 

Standing  Committee. 
Worwipful  Past  Masters,  George 

W.  Hyer,  John  M^Mullen,  and  John 

M.  Lester,  Trustees  of  the  Charitable 

Fond. 

Regular    communications  on  the 

irst  and  third  Wednesdays  o>  every 

month,  at  Sc  John's  Hall. 

BENEVOLEM'  LODGE,  NO.  148. 
Br.    Alexander  Frioer,    Worshipful 

Br.  JaBies  Hays,  Senior  Warden ; 
Br.  William  McQueen,  Junior  Warden ; 
Br.  Michael  Murphy,  Secretary ; 
Br.  Henry  Marsh,  Treasurer ; 
Br.  James  Thorbum,  Senior  Deacon ; 
Br.  Thomas  Harrison,  Junior  Deacon ; 
Brs.  Frederick  Wemill,  and  William 

Adams,  Masters  of  Ceremonies ; 
Brs.  Alexander  Cuscaden,  and  David 

Rossel,  Stewards ; 
Br.  Samuel  Clark,  Tyler ; 

Brs.  Frederick  Wemill,  Daniel 
West,  Alexander  Cuscaden,  James 
Hays,  and  William  McQueen,  Stand- 
ing Committee. 

Regular  communications  on  the 
second  Tuesday  of  every  month^  at 
St.  John's  Han. 

CLINTON  LODGE,  NO.  M3. 

Br.  James  P.  Allaire,  Worshipful 
Master; 

Br.  Alexander  Wiley,  Senior  Warden ; 

Bs.  I^oois  Des  Coudres,  Junior  War- 
den; 


Br.  James  T.  Billany,  Secretary; 
fer.  David  Hart,  Treasurer ; 
Br.  Azariah  Jones,  Senior  f )eacon  5 
Br.  John  Halsey,  Junior  Deacon ; 
Brs.  Thomson  Price,  and    William 

Hackney,  Masters  of  Ceremonies ; 
Brs.  Anthony  W.  Jones,  and  Nehe- 

miah  B.  Cooke,  Stewards ; 
Br.  Joseph  Jacobs,  Tvler  ; 

Brs.  Cornelius  N.  Snarpe  JThomson 
Price,  W.  M.  James  P.  Allaire,  W.  P. 
M.  John  Telfair,  and  Alexander  Wi- 
ley, Standing  Committee. 

Regular  communications  on  the 
second  and  fourth  Tuesdays  of  every 
month,  at  Tammany  Hall. 

MECHANIC  LODGE,  NO  168. 
Br4John  Thompson,  Worshipful  Ma»> 

tor; 
Br.  James  Teller,  Seni<Hr  Warden ; 
Br.  Isaac  Chipp,  Junior  Warden ; 
Br.  John  Walsh,  Secretary ; 
Br.  Bartholomew  Granger,  Treasurer  ; 
Br.  Leouurd  Donkley,  Senior  Deacon ; 
Br.  H.  Basley,  Junior  Deacon ; 
Br.  John  Tonnelly,  Master  of  Cers^ 

monies; 
W.  P.  M«  Andrew  Lloyd,  and  W.  P« 

M«  Thomas  Barker,  Stewards; 
Br.  Christian  Corley,  Tyler  5 

Brs.  W.  P.  M.  Thomas  Barker, 
W.  P.  M.  Andrew  Lloyd,  Isaac  Chipp, 
W.  P.  M.  Paul  LaoMon,  and  Jamei 
Teller,  Standing  Committee. 

Regular  communications  on  the 
second  and  fourth  Tuesdays  of  every 
mouth,  at  St.  John's  Hall. 

CONCORD  LODGE,  NO.  304. 
Br.  Cornelius  M.  Allen,  Worshipful 

Master; 
Br.  John  Hunn,  Senior  Warden  ; 
Br.  Martin«i»  Swaim,  Junior  Warden  ^ 
Br.  Daniel  Johnston,  Secretary ; 
Br.  William  T.  Harris,  Treasurer; 
Br.  Gregory  Snethen,  Senior  Deacon  ; 
Br.  Amasa  Higgins,  Junior  Deacon ; 
Brs.  Peter  M'Cartee,  and  William  Will 

lis.  Masters  of  Ceremonies  ; 
Br.  George  Mather,  and  Philip  L  Ar- 

cularius,  Jr.  Stewards ; 
Br.  Bryau  Rosseiter,  Tyler; 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


uo 


MAsomc  aticTzovi* 


Brs.  George  Bl  Smtth,  John  Huod, 
P.  M.  Edward  S.  Bellamy,  Martines 
Swaini;  aud  Caleb  BrowD^  Standing 
Committee. 

^  Regular  communici^tions  on  the 
second  Tuesdays  of*  every  month  at 
Sjt.  John^s  HalL 

GERMAN  UNION  LODGE,  NO.  322. 
'   l^r.  F.  L.  Vultee,  Worshipful  Master ; 

Br.  C.  Leistner,  Senior  Warden ; 

Br.  Henry  Willet,  Junior  Warden; 

Br.  Sierich  Blanke,  Secretary ; 

Br.  Christian  Meday,  Treasurer ; 

Br.  Julius  Tieman,  Senior  Deacon ; 

Br.  John  Neaff,  Junior  Deacon ; 

Brs.   Heni^  Fechttnan,  and  Henry 
Bittel,  Arasters  of  Ceremonies ; 

Brs*  Henry  Los^,  and  Henry  Chap- 
man, Stewards ; 

Br.  Lorent2  Wenddken,  Tyler ; 
Brs.  W.  P.  M.  Philip  Beeanon,  H. 

Willet,  J.  Bindemagel,  J.  Gattiker, 

and  J.  Tieman,  Stai^ling  Committee. 
Regnlar  communications,  on  the  se- 
cond and  fourth  Thundtys  of  every 

nontli* 

PAST  MASTERg. 
A  list  of  the  past-masters  of  the  sev- 
eral lodges  in  the  city  of  New- York,  is 
to  be  found  in  No.  3.  page  90,  except- 
ing those  who  have  passed  the  chair, 
at  the  late  elections;  whose  name? 
will  be  found  at  the  head  of  the  Tist  of 
officers  of  their  respective  lodges,  for 
the  year  past,  No.  2,  page  55. 

MARK  LODGE,  NO.  40. 
This  is  the  only  Mark  Master's  Lode;^ 
(unconnected  with  the  Chapters)  in  the 
city  of  New-York.  It  holds  its  charter  un- 
der the  GrAnd  Rovml  Arch  Chapter  of  th.e 
8ta|«  of  New-¥orky  grante<}  February  3d, 
1808. 

Br.  John  Utt,  Worshipful  Master; 
Br.  J.  G.  Loy,  Senior  Warden ; 
Br.  Peter  Brewer,  Junior  Warden; 
Br.  Sierich  Blanke,  Secretary ; 
Br.  C.  iVIeday,  Treasurer ; 
Br.  Jocob  Bindernagle,  .Grand  Inspec- 
tor; 
Br.  William  Munro,  Senior  Inspector ; 


Br.  L.  Toms,  Jmnor  Inq>ector; 

Br,  Charles  Phillips,  Master  of  Cere- 
modies; 

Qrs.  Phillip  Becanon,  and  Jol.ius  Tie- 
man,  Stewards ; 

Br.  Peter  Utt,  Tyler, 
Past  Masters  of  tt^  above  lodge.-^ 

Joseph  Forrester,  Andrew  Forrester, 

Phillip    Becanon,    Israel    Navarro, 

John  Wester^eld,  John  Utt,  Phillip 

Carl,  aud  Albert  Wunenberg. 

Regular  communici^tions  on  th|5 

third  Monday  of  every  m^ntby  al  St« 

John's  Halt. 

NEW  JERUSALEM  UODGH,   NO.  Ii6. 
AT  MANHATTANVILL«. 

Br  Isaac  Jenkinson,  Worshqjftil  Mas- 
ter; 

Br.  James  Flanagan,  Senior  Warden  ; 

Br.  James  Meakim,  Junior  Warden ; 

Br.  Samuel  Seaman,  Treasurer ; 

Br.  Ricnard  Crawford,  Secretary; 

Br.  Lewis  Bulkrd,  Senior  Deacon  ; 

Br.  Henry  Hallet,  Junior  Deacon ; 

Br.  James  Haydock,  and  John  Duruit,' 
Masters  of  Ceremonies^ 

Br.  lames  Nodine,  Tyler. 
Regular  communications  on  the  s^ 

cond  Tuesday  of  every  month,  at  the 

house  of  W.  P.  M.  Arthur  Mf  Carter. 

WEST-CHESTER  LODGE,  NO.  46. 

Br.  James  Herring,  Worshipful  Mas- 
ter; 

Br.  J,  W.  Go^shall,  Senior  Warden ; 

Br,  George  WiHiams,  Junior  Warden  ; 

Br.  Jacob  Bartow,  Secretary ; 

Br.  Gideon  Goggoshall,  Treasurer ; 

Br.  William  S.  Williams,  Senior  Dea- 
con; 

Br,  Peter  £•  Gallaudet,  Junior  Dea- 
con: 

Br.  Jonn  Seacord,  Tyler ; 

Br.  Thomas  Carpenter,  and  Joseph. 
Kilpatrick,  Masters  of  Ceremonies ; 

Brs.  Joseph  Anderson,  and  Zadock 
Newman^  Stewards ; 
Regular    communications    every 

Monday  evening  in  the  week  in  which 

the  moon  fulls,  at  the  house  of  ^Br. 

James  Herring,  New-RocheUe. 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MASOtOG  MLBonmsi 


in 


LIST  or  THE  GRAND  OFFICl^BS  OF 
THE  MOaX  p.-.  SOV/  GBiAND  CON- 
SISTORY. 

Sov.  Orand  Commander. 
T.-.  M.-.  111.'.  Joseph  Cernbau, 
YuX  Master. 

DeptUy  Cr.\  Commander, 
T.-.  M.-.  ni.-.  B.-.  De  Witt  Clin- 
ton, Governor  of  the  State  of  New- 
York,  Past  Grand  Master  of  the  Grand 
Lodge  of  the  State  of  New- York, 
tst  Ldeui.  Grand  Commander, 
T.-.  M.*.  111.'.  Charles  GnBBiN, 
PM  Master. 

2d  Lieut.  Orand  Commander, 
T.'.  M.-.  ni-.  B.'.  Jambs  B.  Du- 
KAN0,  Past  Master. 

IH  Minister  of  State. 
T.'.  M.'.  in.'.  B.'.  John  W.  Mul- 
uo AN,  Deputy  Grand  Master  of  the 
Crrand  Lodge. 

2J  Miniiter  of  State, 
T.'.  M.'.  HI.-.  B.-.Cadwalai>brD. 
CoLBBN,  Mayor  of  the  City  of  New- 
York^  Past  Senior  Grand  Warden  of 
the  Grand  Lodge. 

Grand  Chancellor. 
T.'.  M.'.  111.'.  B.'.  Aaeon  H.  Pal- 
MB^  Past  Master. 

Grand  Secretary. 
T.%  M.'.  111.'.  B.'.  Joseph  Bou- 
GHAUD,  Past  IVf^er. 

Isir  Ametant  to  0.-.  Se(^y.\ 
T.\  M.\  in.'.  B.'.  Francis  Du- 
BDAB,  Past  Master. 

2d  Assistant  to  Do. 
T.'.  M.-.nL'.  B. .  Harman  Wbst- 
brvelt. 

Grand  Treasurer. 
T.\  M.'.  HI.'.  B.'.  Jabies  Gels- 

TOH. 

Grand  Keeper  of  the  Seals. 
T.'.  M.'.  in.'.  B.'.  Elias  Hicxs, 
Grand  Secretary  of  the  Grand  Lodge. 
1st  Grand  Master  of  Ceremonies. 
T.'.  M.'.    in.'.  B.'.    Jonathan 
ScHiEFFELiN,  Past  Master. 

2d  Grand  M.\  of  Cer.\ 
T.'.M.'.IH.-.B.'.  Thomas  LowNDS, 
P^t  Master. 

G.\  Expr.\  Introd.'. 

T.'.  M.-.  in.'.  B.'.  TOUSSAINT  MiDY. 


T.'.  M.'.  IB.'.  B.'.  John  Telfair, 
^Past  Master. 

Grand  C(wt.\  of  G.\ 
T.'.  M.-.  in.'.  B.'.  Martin  Hoff- 
man, Past  Deputy  Grand  Master  of 
the  Grand  Lodge. 

Grand  Hospatalier. 
T.'.M.-.  ni.'.  B.'.  Abraham  LoTT, 
W.  P.  M.  of  Honand  Lodge. 


ELECTION  OF  OFFICERS    oV   Tftt 
GRAND  LODGE  OF  OHIO. 

On  Wednesday  the  20th  of  Decem- 
ber last,  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Ohio 
convened  at  Cdorobos,  and  elected 
the  foUowing  oAcers,  for  the  present 
year: 

M.  W.  John  Snow,  of  Worthing* 
ton,  Grand  Master. 

R  W.  E.  WniTTLBsfcY,  of  Can- 
field,  Deputy  Grand  Master; 

W.  B.  Gardinbb,  of  Colnnibaii 
Grand  Senior  Warden. 

W.  Warnbr,  of  Marietta, 

Grand  Junior  Warden. 

W.  A,  J.  M^DowELLy  of  FrankUn- 
ton.  Grand  Secretary. 

W.  L.  GrooDALB,  of  Columbus, 
Grand  Treasurer. 

M.  W.  Rev.  Philandbr  Chasb,  of 
Worthington,  Grand  Chaplain. 

R.  W.  JosEPi^  ^.  Hughes  of  Dela- 
ware, Grand  Orator. 

W.  D.  F.  Rebmbr,  of  LebcMon, 
Grand  Marshal. 

W.  Jacob  D.  Dibtrick,  of  Lancas- 
ter, Grand  Senior  Deacon* 

W.  ThorKly  L.  White,  of  West 
Union,  Grand  Junior  Deacon. 

W.P.  Spraoub  of  Delaware,  Grand 
Sword  Bearer.  • 

W.  W,  Long,  of  Colunabus,  Grand 
Tyler. 


MASONIC  ANTHEM. 

Hail  Masonry  !  thou  glorious  light, 
That  spread'st  by  Heaven's  design, 

O'er  gloomy  superstition's  night, 
Thy  bridtent  rays  dirine. 


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182 


8PIT8BE1IOEN. 


CKOflVS. 

In  thy  blest  charms  the  worUt  can  find, 

It  grateful  unitv, 
The  virtues  \«hicb  adorn  naukiud, 
.    Hail  glorious  masonry ! 

Thine  is  the  pleasing  power  to  charm, 

Each  auiious  care  to  rest. 
With  love  the  savage  breast  to  warm, 

lUuminate  the  breast. 

In  thy  blest  charms,  ke. 

Beneath  thy  rapture-kindling  b«am, 
More  lasting  pleasures  spring. 

Than  glow  in  Fancy's  brilliant  dream. 
Or  poets  e'er  can  sing. 

In  thy  blvst  charms,  &c. 

Amid  the  nation's  angry  strife, 
Tis  thou  canst  whisper  peace, 

Canst  strew  with  flowers  the  paths  of  life, 
And  bid  all  discord  cease.  , 

In  thy  blest  charms»  kc» 

Still  let  thy  pore  unsullied  blaze, 

in  ev'ry  lodge  be  seen, 
Whilst  hamonv's  meridian  ra^-s, 

Inspire  witli  joys  serene. 

In  tliy  blest  charms^  Lc. 


For  the  Masonic  Hxoistxr. 
Lines  written  on  the  deatli  of  the 
HON.  PHILIP  OSMAN,^ 
Who  departed  this  life,  October  21st,  1820, 
at  Columbia,  Herkimer  county,  aged  80 
years. 
O  !  much  lov'd  Osman,  now  devotion  pays, 
A  grateful  tribute  to  thy  worth  in  deatn  ', 
Elysium's  portals  sparkle  to  thy  praise, 
.  While  holy  accents  meet  thy  bhssiul  breath. 

Ere  nature's  impulse  left  thy  aged  brow, 
The  dew  of  faith  oft  moisten'd  thy  fond  lip ; 
A  Saivour's  grace  had  taught  thy  soul  to 

know. 
Religion's  beauty,  and  ambrosial  sip. 

Tho'meek  ey'd  pity  bids  thy  kindred  weep, 
And  gives  a  pathos  to  each  bursting  tear ', 
Yet  laith  assuit^s  them  that  thy   mansuet 

sleep, 
Isting'd  with  rapture,  and  estrange 'd  from 

fear. 

But  ah !  dear  Osman,  ne'er  s{ial1  rosy  mom 
In'spleandour  wake  thee  from  thy  lowly  bed ; 
Nor  evening  cynthia  with  her  beams  adorn. 
That  soul  ¥mich  spotless  purity  hath  fed. 

In  vaio  may  friendship  woo  with  dulcet 

voice. 
Thy  clay-cold  cheek  to  light  the  cheering 

smile  ; 


In  rain  may  life  bewaU  thy  recent  choice* 
While  death  is  heav'u— a  Mav'n  nuknowik 
to  guile. 

The  fabric  of  thy  aoul  now  prostrate  lies. 
The  ktjf^one  of  thy  arch  of  life  has  fled ; 
Thy  great  grand  master  now  the  square  ap- 

pfies. 
And  finds  tktt  righteous  as  the  blissful  dead. 

As  some  blown  flowe'r  which  deck'd  the 

verdant  grot. 
Is  pluck'd  to  bloom  and  grace  its  owner's 

breast ; 
So  heav'n  has  ta'en  thee  from  thy  humbler 

lot, 
To  bloom  and  blossom  in  eternal  rest. 

*  Father  of  Sir  Knight  John  Osman. 


GEOGRAPHIC  A  T.> 

SPITSBERGEN. 

The  following  interesting  "obser- 
vations made  during  a  voyage  to  the 
Arctic  Seas,"  are  copied  from  a  late 
Edinburgh  paper.. 

"On  the  evehing  of  the  14tli  of» 
April,  Spitsbergen  came  into  view ;  it 
is  an  island  of  vast  extent,  and  is  equal 
to,  if  it  does  not  exceed,  Great  Britain*  . 
Our  latitude  hy  account  was  80  de- 
grees north.  The  land  had  a  most 
stupendous  appearance,  being  chiefly 
composed  of  a  ridge  of  lofty  moun- 
tains, rising  almost  perpendicularly 
from  the  level  of  the  sea ;  to\ii^ds  the 
summit  they  terminated  in  conical 
points,  or  hills,  which  varied  as  to 
height  and  general  figure :  by  the  in- 
tersection of  the  mountains,  many  ho1« 
lows  and  valleys  were  found  of  great 
depth.  The  aspect  of  the  whole  was 
nigged,  rocky,  and  barren,  and  the 
surface  was  covered  with  snow,  which 
in  the  vallies  and  recesses  continues 
unmelted  throughout  the  year.  The 
coast  appeared  to  be  six  or  seven 
miles  from  the  ship,  when  actually  it 
was  at  least  forty  or  fifty ;  this  extra- 
ordinary fact  proceeds  from  the  great 
beieht  of  the  land,  and  the  clearness 
of  ue  polar  atmosphere.  Spitsbergen 
has  never  been  sufiiciently  exf^ored, 
so  as  to  enable  one  to  judge  correctly 


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8PIT8BBRBKN. 


1^ 


0f  its  magnitude ;  the  Dutch  say  they 
have  sailed  round  it. 

During  tiie  whole  of  April,  volumes 
of  smoke  continued  to  emanate  from 
the  suH^ce  of  the  sea,  which  b  always 
a  proof  of  reduced  temperature ;  it  ari- 
ses from  the  air  on  the  immediate  sur^ 
lace  of  the  water,  having  greater  capa- 
dty  for  moisture  than  the  superincum- 
bent air,  and  this  proceeds  from  their 
difference  of  temperature.  There  is 
alwavs  a  quantity  of  caloric  issuing 
from  the  poiar  seas  on  the  disruption 
of  the  ice  during  spring,  which  renders 
the  air  on  the  surface  of  the  water 
more  capable  of  holding  moisture  in 
solution  ^  and  this  ajr,  from  being  spe- 
cifically lighter,  soon  ascends  into  a 
medium  much  reduced  in  temperatui*^, 
and  the  moisture  is  instantly  deposited 
in  the  solid  form  of  ice,  and  which, 
ff  om  the  minuteness  of  the  particles, 
resembles  smoke.  It  is  denominated  by 
Wm.  Scoresby,  jr.  Esq.  "  frost  rime," 
who  has  written  a  learned  work  on  the 
Arctic  Regions  and  the  Whale  Fishery. 
Hoar  frost  resembles  frost  rime,  bat 
still  there  b  considerable  difference ;  in 
hoar  frost,  the  moisture  is  first  depos- 
ited on  the  object,  and  then  frozen,,  so 
that  a  temperature  of  3 1  or  32  deg.  may 
cause  it ;  but  in  frost  rime  the  moisture, 
is  deposited  in  the  air,  m  the  ibrm  of 
ice,,  and  requires  the  reduced  tempera- 
ture o(  10  or  12  deg.  to  effect  it.  Tues- 
<lay,  the  25th  of  April,  was  the  coldest 
day  we  experienced.  Fa^nheit's 
thermometer  sinking  to  the  zero  f — 1. 
Od  the  5th  of  June  our  latitude,  by  ob- 
servation, was  80  deg.  26  ro.  north. 
Soon  after  this  we  directed  our  course 
to  the  southward  and  westward,  as  (ew 
whale  fish  were  seen  to  the  northward. 
We  sailed  so  &r  to  the  westward,  that 
on  ^e  18th  of  July,  the  east  side  of 
West  or  Old  Greenland  was  distinctly 
seen ;  it  appeared  mountainous  and 
rugged  like  Spitsbergen.  We  were 
witliin  thirty  miles  of  the  shore;  our 
latitude  by  account,  was  71  deg.  l.>m. 
north,  lliis  is  supposed  to  be  a  con- 
tinuation of  the  same  ridge  of  moun- 
tains that  is  seen  up  Davis's  Strait.    It 


has  never  been  explored,  and  hence 
forms  a  fine  field  for  discovery.  Our 
success  in  the  fishery  was  now  great, 
which  amply  repaid  us  for  our  want 
of  fortune  in  the  fore  part  of  the  sea- 
son. 

"  On  the  evening  of  the  28th  July, 
(latitude  by  account,  70  d^.  20m 
north ;  a  strong  gale  arose,  when  we 
were  homeward  bound,  and  trying  to 
get  through  rank  ice  into  the  open 
ocean,  finding  this  hazardous,  we  sail* 
ed  back  in  order  to  avoid  the  dangers 
attendant  on  the  swell  and  subsequeat 
aurition  of  the  heavy  Bow  pieces  of  ice 
with  which  we  were  surrounded.  In  a 
case  of  this  kind,  the  farther  the  ves- 
sel is  removed  from  the  outer  margin 
of  the  ice  at  sea  edge^  the  greater  is 
the  safety  on  the  occurrence  of  a  gale 
of  wind,  as  the  presence  of  much 
always  prevents  the  formalioa  of 
waves ;  hence  vessels  employed  in  the 
Greenland  whale  fishery,  seldom  ex- 
perience a  heavy  sea  in  the  usual  fish- 
ing stations.  Our  retreat  was  soon 
checked  by  the  ice,  and  in  a  few  min- 
utes the  passage  of  the  ship  was  block- 
ed up  by  heavv  fiow  pieces,  some  of 
them  at  least  thirty  feet  in  thickness; 
providentially  however,  the  gale  cea- 
sed, and  with  it,  for  the  moment,  our 
fears  and  anxieties. 

<^  Sunday  morning,  the  dOth  of  July, 
the  prospect  from  deck  was  gloomy  in 
the  extreme,  as  before  our  eyes  in  eve- 
ry direction  were  presented  heavy 
flow  sheets  of  ice,  which  seemed  to  form 
an  everlasting  barrier  to  the  passage 
of  a  ship.  Situated  as  we  were,  with- 
out the  means  of  escape,  there  was 
much  cause  for  alarm,  as  there  was  a 
probability  of  the  ship  being  detained 
during  the  winter ;  and  upon  the  event  of 
a  gale  ofwind  arising,  our  feeble  barque 
could  never  have  withstood  the  fearful 
concussions  of  such  heavy  flow  sheets 
of  ice.  But  we  were  protected  by  a 
superintending  Providence.  On  the 
afternoon  of  the  same  day,  to  the  un- 
speakable joy  of  all  the  ship's  crew, 
the  ice  appeared  gradually  to  open ; 
the  opportunity  was  seized,  and  by  the 

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194 


BFTTSBCROKlt. 


'  acthnty  $ni  pMflhoe  of  mind  of  the 
captakii  along  with  the  exertions  of 
the  officers  and  men^  the  ship  was 
got  through  the  ice,  and  was  sa(e  in 
open  water  by  half  past  ten,  P.  M. 

<<  Before  leaving  the  ice,  we  laid  in 
a  supply  of  excellent  ftesli  water,  col- 
lected from  different  pools  Of  water, 
formed  on  the  flows,  the  purity  and 
coolness  of  which  were  surprising;  it 
afforded  to  the  thirsty  jailor  a  most 
refreshing  beverage.  On  the  morning 
of  the  3d  of  August,  agreeably  to  the 
captain's  reckoning,  the  island  of  Ice- 
land came  into  view.  The  moun- 
tains reared  their  loAy  heads  far  above 
the  clouds.  By  12nOon,  the  fog  hav- 
ing partly  cleared  away,  the  land  was 
seen  distinctly,  and  by  the  assistance 
of  the  telescope,  men,  cottages,  and 
cattle  were  distinguished ;  as  we  were 
not  acquainted  with  our  situation,  the 
sounding  line  was  used  to  ascertain 
the  deptS  of  the  water,  w4iich  was  from 
SO  to  18  fathoms  within  a  mile  of  the 
shore ;  latitude  by  observation  66  deg. 
29  min.  north.  At  6  P.  M.  after  tea, 
preparations  were  made  for  going  on 
shore ;  acconlingly,  at  20  minutes  be- 
fore 7,  a  bout  was  manned,  and  we 
rowed  towards  the  land  ;  as  we  ap- 
proached the  coa^t,  the  inhabitants 
of  the  place  stood  gazing  with  aston- 
ishment, but  upon  a  signal  being  made 
to  theifi  with  our  hats,  they  ran  down 
to  the  sea  edge  and  received  us ;  we 
went  to  their  cottage,  or  rather  hut, 
end  were  showed  every  attention. 
The  hut  was  composed,  outwardly,  of 
several  houses  in  the  shape  of  a  cross, 
which,  inwardly,  all  communicated, 
furming  a  variety  of  apartments.  On 
the  left  wing  the  fire  was  placed  in  the 
middle  of  the  floor  5  around  it  were 
stationed  sheepskins  in  the  form  of  a 
couch;  the  fuel  was  composed  of 
wood,  and  the  smoke  escaped  by  a  hole 
in  the  roof;  many  sea-fowls'  were  sus- 
pended* in  the  smoke,  and  a  number 
seemed  ready  cooked  in  a  wooden  ves- 
•el  near  the  fire ;  there  were  likewise 
a  quantity  of  cods^  fivers,  from  which 
they  extracted  oil.    Oa  entering,  we 


experienced  an  odour  pecafiarly  d^ 
fensiye,  and  at  first  we  could  not  di»* 
tinguish  the  objects  around  us,  from 
the  ckNid  of  smoke. 

^  According  to  the  method  of  salu- 
tatidn  in  Iceland^  the  captain  was  res 
ceived  by  a  kiss  on  the  back  of  thfe 
hand,  and  afterwards  on  the  cheek. 
The  family  was  composed  of  a  veijr 
cheerful  middle-aged  woman,  an  elder- 
ly, active,  cheerfhl  man,  a  middle-aged 
man  of  rather  a  gloomy  coontenance, 
a  sturdy  boy  ami  giri,  with  two  or 
three  children.  The  hostess  on  ovtt 
arfhral  was  churning,  and  we  had  a 
copious  draught  of  milk.  The  bat 
was  surrounded  by  a  green  fertile 
space  of  ground,  on  whidi'were  se\'^ 
ral  small  wharehooses,  containing  im- 
plements, wool,  sea-birds,  and  dried 
fish,  ^c. ;  and  lambs,  sheep,  a  horse 
and  cow,  were  feeding  in  the  neighbour-* 
hood ;  they  did  not  appear  to  differ 
much  in  appeamce  from  those  of  Great 
Britian.  The  sheep  were  of  the  small 
breed,  and  were  very  tame  and  docile. 
The  captain  bartered  with  them  for 
a  sheep  and  lamb.  It  was  surprising 
that  a  number  of  the  words  of  their 
language  resembled  our'sin  sound,  on 
which  account,  and  by  the  use  of  signs, 
we  understood  one  another  wonder 
folly  well.  We  were  an  hour  on 
shore.  The  coast  was  very  bold,  and 
the  land  assumed  a  hilly  and  rugged 
form  immediately  above  the  huts, 
which  were  situated  a  short  way  above 
the  water  edge.  On  the  face  of  the 
hill  were  dis^vered  quantities  of  tbo 
vesicular  lava>  specimens  of  which  the 
captain  took  on  board.  Soon  after 
our  arrival  on  board  the  ship,  a  boat 
came  alongside  with  the  sheep  and 
lamb  :  the  woman,  two  men,  and  boy, 
composed  the  crew ;  they  supped  witk 
us  in  the  cabin,  where  a  bartering  took 
place  for  stockings,  mittens,  &c.  The 
hostess  got  a  pint-bottle  filled  with 
rum,  which  she  hugged  and  pushed 
into  her  bosom.  The  giatkude  diey 
showed  can  scarcdy  be  expressed. 

From  the  above  account,  a  proper 
idea  cannot  be  fonrfed  o(ibe  IcehMMk 

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MfiCELLANKOUS. 


185 


crt  in  general,  as  the  fonily  we  visited 
were  far  removed  from  society,  Uviog 
OD  a  neck  or  promontory  of  land,  jut- 
ting into  the  o^ean ;  on  this  account 
they  had  a  wild,  unculdvated  appear- 
ance ;  but  nncultivated  as  they  were, 
wilh  few  or  no  opportunities  of  im- 
provement, they  would  have  put  many 
of  the  inhabitants  of  Britian  to  the 
blosli,  by  their  being  capable  of  wri- 
dng  tbeir  own  names,  which  they  did 
before  leaving  the  ship.  The  part  of 
kdand  on  which  we  landed,  is  named 
Langaneas  ^  its  relative  situation  is 
detiaeated  in  a  mttp  ifi  Pr.  Hender- 
son's ialeresting  work  on  Iceland.  On 
oar  passage  home,  we  eiperienced 
many  gales  of  wind,  accompanied 
wkh  a  heavy  sea ;  the  cabin  was  in- 
nadated  hy  the  waves  breaking  through 
the  stem  windows,  which  made  it  ne- 
cessary, for  security,  to  put  in  dead 
lights.  On  the  1 1th  of  August,  we  sail- 
ed within  two  miles  of  one  of  the  Fan>e 
Islands  ;  (lat.  by  account,  62  deg.  10 
m.  N  ;)  tbe  coast  was  bold,  very  rug- 
ged and  rocky,  and  was  elevated  at 
least  1000  feet  ebove  th<f  level  of  the 
saa.  On  the  1 5th  the  gale  was  violent, 
and  the  surrounding  ocean,  during  mid- 
night, presented  to  the  eye  a  most  sub- 
line spectacle,  although  accompanied 
with  feeling»<^ dread ;  the  billows  roll- 
ed mountains  high  ;  their  tops  curled 
into  foam,  which  glittered  through  the 
darkness  of  the  scene. 

^Before  leaving  the  ice,  Thomas 
Fage^  harpooner,  secured  four  young 
bears,  and  brought  them  on  board,  af- 
ter laming  the  mothers  in  their  de- 
fence: their  attachment  to  their  off- 
aprtng  is  very  strong.  Two  of  the 
cabs  died  on  the  passage,  the  remain- 
ing two  arrived  safe  in  Queen's  Dock, 
Liverpool,  on  the  2dd  of  August,  and 
next  day  were  led  from  the  ship  to 
the  oil-yard,  along  the  streets,  amidst 
hundreds  of  spectators.  They  were 
very  savage,  and  before  their  removal 
from  the  deck  two  sailors  felt  the  ef- 
fects of  their  fury. 

^  We  had  the  misfortune,  on  the 
passage  out,  to   loee  our  carpenter, 


Thomas  Harrison,  a  m6st  exemplary 
man, and exceNem artist:  hefellover^ 
board  into  the  wide  Atlantic,  w4ien 
the  rate  of  sailing  was  seven  knots  an 
hour.  The  ship  was  immediately 
hove  to,  and  a  boat  despatched }  but 
before  die  crew  had  polled  to  the  spot, 
he  had  sunk  to  rise  no  more.  A  stib* 
scription  was  made  for  his  widow  on 
board  the  ship.  By  inserting  the  a- 
bove  remarks,  you  will  much  oblige 
yoor  obedient  humble  servant. 

N. 


MIISCKL.L.ANKOUS* 


For  the  Ma$o5ic  Reoister. 
MEMORV. 

There  is,  perhaps,  no  stronger  proof 
of  theiimmortality  of  the  soul,  than  its 
capacity  to  retrace  its  steps  through 
all  the  vari6ns  periods  of  its  existence. 
In  this  respect  the  mind  must  be  as- 
tonished at  her  own  powers ;  she  (inds 
her  capacity  enlarged,  and  views  her- 
self no  longer  as  the  creature  of  a  day, 
but  measures  her  duration  by  eternity. 
The  "  years  that  have  gone"  roll  bl^ 
fore  her,  and  the  future  bursts  upcm 
her  view,  the  fetters  of  cla>  are  bro- 
ken by  the  hand  of  imagination,  whilst 
memory  t>espeaks  the  soul  of  "  subtler 
essence  than  the  trodden  clod." 

That  sensibility  also,  which  warns 
us  of  error,  and  inclines  us  to  fly  its 
approach,  springs  up  from  the  luxuri- 
ant soil  of  memory ;  a  soil  in  which 
every  weed  that  poisons  the  cup  of 
mortal  felicity,  grows  almost  sponta- 
neous: it  is  here  we  must  look  for 
those  <^  roots  of  bitterness,"  hatred, 
envy,  jealousy,  revenge,  which  like 
the  far-feraM  Upas,  spread  their  with- 
ering influence  around,  and  render  oor 
hearts  a  barren  and  0<nty  desert. 
And  here  too  are  to  be  found,  if  found 
at  all,  those  ever-blooming  flowers  of 
virtue,  whose  /Vagrance  cheers  the  bed 
of  death,  the  couch  of  him 
**  Whose  yesterdays  look  backward  with  a 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


i^ 


OlSCEVLAJSEOXm* 


With  whfit  drlipfht  the  sdul  springs 
forward  for  the  prise  of  bliss,  when 
tirged  by  tlie  recoUectioo  of  those  we 
loved,  who  have  gone  bdbre  us,  but 
whom  we  expect  so  soon  to  meet  nev- 
er to  part  again.  Here  indeed,  our 
eyes  are  often  blindf>d  by  prejudice, 
and  though  the  fire  of  love  and  friend- 
ship may  be  kindled  in  our  bosoms, 
the  cold  rains  of  adversity  in  some 
neasure  quench  the  spark  which 
Heaven  designed  should  bum  forever. 
Tl^e  Idea  of  our  importance  in  the 
stale  of  existence,  because  we  are 
rich,  like'  the  difference  of  casts  in 
India,  burste  through  the  barriers  that 
Christianity  presents,  and  bear»  us  in 
imagination  above  those  of  our  fellow 
travellers  on\he  !»reat  journey  qf  life, 
but  who  move  *^  along  its  cool  seques- 
tered vale."  But  how  sweet  it  must 
be  to  him  who  has  borne  <<  the  rich 
man's  scorn,"  to  think  of  meeting 
even  those  who  from  erroneous  views 
have  treated  him  with  contempt,  in  a 
world  wliere  they  shall  acknowledge 
him  their  equal.  How  then  will 
memory  enhance  the  pleasures  of 
those  peaceful  shores!  With  what 
emotions  will  the  good  man  look  back 
upon  the  ocean  of  time  through  which 
he  so  hiteiy  passed,  but  whose  storms 
are  hushed  forever !         Euosnius. 


FoK  THE  Masonic  Rsoistxr. 
MIRTH. 
It  is  a  litigated  point  among  some 
sectarians,  whether  we  ought  or  ooght 
^  not  to  give  way  to  mirthful  emotions. 
The  one  contending  with  philosophi* 
ch]  gravity  that  Heaven  designed  we 
sboiild  laugh,  or  it  would  not  have 
given  the  power.  Nay,  proving  from 
liistory  too,  that  many  a  great  man 
was  born  latching.  (Though  by  the 
by  I  thitjk  it  no  laughing  matter  to  be 
bom  into  such  a  world  as  this.)  How- 
ever^ after  all  that  has  been  said  by 
Democritus,  dr  Heraclitus,  and  ten 
thou^md  others,  I  confess  I  am  no 
nearer  bemg  convinced  on  the  subject ; 
Mit  if  there  is  any  thing  that  can  ej^ 


cite  mirdi  it  most  be  tfie  ioMy  of  si3c6 
dispotes.  And  this  brings  to  mind  a 
circumstance  with  which  I  became 
a^uainted  while  in  Connecticut.  A 
gentleman  of  some  respectability  hati 
separated  from  his  wife,  and  the  cause 
of  it  was  as  follows:  his  wife  one 
momtag  had  stnfied  a  pig  with  an  in-  . 
tentioa  of  baking  it,  and  was  proceed- 
ing to  put  it  into  the  oven  *^  head  fore- 
most ;"  but  he  takii^  a  whim  to  be 
contrary,  insisted  that  the  pig  should 
enter  in  reversed  order :  and  (he  wife, 
seeing  the  injustice  of  the  case,  deter- 
mined on  carrying  her  point ;  I  need 
not  say  that  the  pig  escaped  ^  a  roasts 
ing."  And  from  that  time  till  they 
parted,  which  was  net  long  after,  this 
became  the  order,  or  rather  the  disor- 
der of  the  day,  the  wife  in  all  caaea 
taking  the  pig  by  the  head  and  he  by 
the  tail/  A. 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  SAADIS. 
The  people  anciently  called  Psylli^ 
who  supplied  themselves  possessed 
of  the  power  of  fascinating,  command* 
ing,  and  eating  serpents,  and  of  curing 
their  bites,  are  still  existing  in  Egypt. 
They  are  called  Saadu^  from  tne 
name  of  theur  founder,  a  satat  highly 
venerated  by  the  Egyptian  mussulmea. 
Saint  Saadie  was  the  nephew  of  a 
wealthy  man  in  Syria,  who  sent  hiai 
one  day  into  the  wilderness  to  procure 
a  bundle  of  sticks ;  when  the  young 
man  had  collected  sufficient  fud  to 
form  a  faggot,  he  was  at  a  loss  for  a 
band  to  tie  it  up,  but  after  some  con- 
sideration, he  came  to  a  resolution  of 
knotting  several  serpents  togethiv  to 
form  a  band,  and  with  this  livkig  cord 
he  careftiUy  bound  up  his  sticks.  The 
uncle,  charmed  with  the  Ingemiity  of 
his  nephew,  said  to  hins,  **  Go  about 
your  business,  for  yon  know  more 
than  I  do,  and  are  adequate  to  the  task 
of  making  your  way  in  the  world.'' 
Taking  the  hint,  the  ingenious  youth 
travelled  over  several  countries,  cfaai^ 
ming  serpents  by  his  supematm^ 
skilly  till  he  ac<|uM  a  great  niniber 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


•f  4ibci{^  i»  mtmy  of  whom  he 
conuiHiiiicated  his  art.  His  tonb,  ii 
the  ne^bourfoMd  of  Damaaeiu,  is 
Ml  of  serpents  and  other  veoonous 
CTeatares,  ainong  which  a^  person 
nay  tie  down  and  repose  iii>  perlect 
safety. 

Soch  IS  the  saperstkioos  ori^  as- 
cribed to  this  extraordinary  sect,  each 
indiTidual  of  whieh  ventures  boldly 
lo  affino,  that  be  inherits  the  skill  and 
properties  of  the  foander.  His  festi- 
^isMiniiaSycelebratejd;  each  of  the 
sect,  during  the  procession,  walking 
with  a  live  serpent  in  his  hand,  which 
he  gnaws,  bites,  and  swallows  as  he 
passes,  accompanied  with  the  moat 
horrid  grimaces  and  contortions.  M. 
Souniai,  however,  could  opt  see  this 
festival,  it  being  only  celebrated  in  the 
sammer,  and  it  was  winter  when  that 
gentleman  was  at  Rosetta;  hut  his 
curiosity  being  excited  by  the  subject, 
he  prevailed  on  one  of  the  sect  to  in- 
dulge him  with  the  exhibition  of  his 
art  in  his  own  apartment 

The  priest  brought  in  his  bosom  a 
luge  serpent,  of  a  dusky  green  and 
copper  colour,  which  he  was  conttn- 
uaUy  handling  ;  and,  after  having  re^ 
cited  a  prayer,  presented  it  to  the  Saa- 
di,  who  seised  it  with  an  anxious  hknd ; 
the  teeth  of  the  reptile  had  been  ex- 
tracted, but  it  was  very  lively ;  and 
on  its  entwining  itself  round  his  arm, 
his  countenance  changed,  his  eyes  roll- 
ed, and  he*  uttered  the  most  piercing 
cries ;  he  then  bit  the  serpent  in  the 
head,  and  tore  off  a  morsel,  which  he 
instandy  chewed  and  swallowed.  On 
this  his  agitation  became  convulsive, 
his  mouth  foamed,  and  hb  countenance 
assume^  the  features  of  insanity,  while 
he  occanonally  devoured  fresh  pieces 
of  the  animal.  Three  men  endeav^ 
•ored  to  hold  him,  but  in  vain  ;  he 
dragged  them  round  the  room  with 
vic^ice.  At  length  the  priest  took 
the  serpent  from  him  ;  but  his  con- 
Tidsions  and  insanity  did  not  immedi- 
ately forsake  him,  he  bit  his  hands,  and 
hb  fury  continued.  The  priest  th<*n 
clasped  him  in  his  arms,  put  his  band 


W 

gently  OQ  hii  hack,  rafsed  him  fram 
the  ground,  and  reciM  some  prayers, 
when  his  agitations  gradually  suh«» 
ded,  and  he  sunk  into  a  state  of  coa^ 
piete  lassitude. 

From  thk  Haverhill  Gazxttb« 
AN  INTERES'ilNG  ANECDOTE.  , 

The  following  interesting  inddenf, 
extracted  from  the  correspondence  <if 
the  British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society, 
wiH  s«*vc,  in  some  measure,  to  ^bow 
the  extreme  solicitude  frequently  man- 
ifested by  the  Russtfin  peasantry,  for 
procuring  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  the 
unfeigned  gratitude  with  which  they 
receive  them. 

**  It  is  customary,  on  the  eves  of  the 
great  feasts  in  the  Greek  Church,  to 
read  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles  to  the 
people  who  are  assembled  in  the 
churches.  A  young  womaA  had  re- 
cently gone  as  nsual,  and  Walking  up 
and  down,  happened,  as  she  pas^  the 
reader,  tp  hear  sometbhig  that  arrest- 
ed her  attention.  She  listened,  and 
the  more  she  heard,  the  more  did  she 
feel  interested,  and  was  chained  to  the 
spot  till  the  reading  of  the  Scriptures 
was  finished. 

^  The  foUowing  day,  she  went  to  th^ 
priest,  and  expressed  her  earnest  de- 
sire to  be  permitted  to  read  the  book 
which  she  had  beard  read  the  prece- 
ding evening  in  Church.  He  immedi- 
ately took  down  one  of  the  Society^s 
New  Testaments,  and  beginning  to 
read  the  portion  of  Scripture  she  had 
heard  in  the  public  service  ;  ^^  Yes," 
she  exclaimed,  <<  these  are  the  very 
words."  Slie  was  now  almost  in  aq 
ecstacy,  and  taking  the  New  Te9ta- 
ment  home  with  her  she  sat  up  two 
whole  nights,  in  order  to  read  through 
the  Acts  of  the  AposUes.  On  return- 
ing the  New  Testament,  she  could  n^ 
sufficiently  extol  it,  but  delivered  it 
into  the  hands  of  the  priest,  with  down- 
cast looks,  aud  a  strong  degree  of  ra- 
luctance,  which  phuiily  intimated  that 
she  would  have  kept  the  volume  if 
she  durst.    Yon  may  cooodve  what 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MS 


UlMXLLANmOVi* 


was  her  joy  when  she  was  presented 
with  the  treasure  she  so  higiily  pri- 
led." 


RARE  BOOK. 
Dr.  Sims,  late  of  Bath,  bequeathed 
the  celebrated  volume  of  Servetus,  en- 
titled, Christianismi  RestUutis^  to  Dr. 
Sicfmood.  "  The  fate  of  this  book," 
says  our  informant,  ^<  has  been  nut  a 
little  singular.  All  the  other  copies 
were  burned,  together  with  the  jiuthor, 
by  the  implacable  Calvin.  This  copy 
was  secreted  and  saved  by  D.  Celadon, 
one  of  the  Judges.  Af^er  passing 
through  the  library  of  the  Landgrave 
to  Hesse  Cassel,  it  came  into  the 
bands  of  Dr.  Mead,  who  endeavoured 
to  give  a  quarto  edition ;  but,  on  the 
17th  of  May  17'^3,  at  the  instance  of 
Dr.  Gibson,  bishop  of  London,  the 
copies,  not  half  completed,  were  sei- 
zed by  John  Kent,  messenger  of  the 
press,  and  Wiili3m  Squire,  messen- 
ger in  ordinary,  and  were  burnt  with 
the  exception  of  a  few.  The  late 
Duke  de  Valiere  gave  near  400  guin- 
eas for  this  volume.  At  his  sale  it 
was  purchased  for  2810  livres.  It 
contains  the  first  account  of  the  circu- 
lation of  tlie  blood,  above  70  years 
before  the  immortal  Harvey  published 
his  discovery,  and  the  theory  of  John 
Hunter,  at  thin  day  a  subject  of  philo- 
sophic inquiry.  The  life  is  in  the 
blood  is  distinctly  advjinced  and  de- 
fended, upon  the  very  grounds  it  is  at 
present  supported.  The  Lalin  in 
which  it  is  written  is  pure  and  elegant, 
and  was  puWbhed  in  the  year  J  jj3." 

a::  nVTERESTING  ORIENTAL  TALE 
(Conclutied  from  page  t52.) 
When  Liu-Pao  had  received  the 
sum,  I  oneht  to  acquaint  you,  said  he 
to  the  merchant,  that  my  s»ter-in-law 
is  proud,  haughty,  and  a  great  lover 
of  formality  ;  she  will  make  a  ?reat 
many  dtfliculties  when  she  is  to  leave 
the  house,  and  you  wiil  have  some 
mmble  to  brieg  her  to  a  resolution ;  I 


will  tell  you  therefore  what  you  i 
do :  at  the  beginning  of  the  night  bring 
a  chaur  adorned  as  usual,  with  good 
strong  porters,  make  as  little  noise  as 
you  can,  and  be  ready  at  the  door  4 
she  that  will  appear  with  a  mourning 
head-dress  is  my  sister ;  say  never  m 
word  to  her,  nor  hearken  to  what  she 
says,  but  take  her  about  the  middle, 
force  her  into  the  chair,  and  conduct 
her  to  your  bark  as  soon  as  you  can. 
This  expedient  pleased  the  merchant, 
and  the  execution  of  the  project  secna 
edeasy. 

In  tlie  mean  time  Lio-PftO  returned 
home,  and  that  his  sister-in-Uiw  night 
have  no  suspicion  of  his  design,  he  took 
no  notice  of -any  thing  while  she  was 
by ;  but  as  soon  as  she  was  withdrawn 
he  made  his  wife  a  confident  iu  the 
project,  and  told  her  of  the  trick  he 
was  going  to  play;  it  is  necessary, 
said  he,  that  this  two-legged  noerchan- 
dise  should  be  taken  away  this  n^bt, 
of  which  1  have  not  tne  least  reason  to 
doubt :  however,  I  am  not  willhug  to 
be  present  at  the  transaction,  so  that  I 
will  be  absent  for  some  time ;  tMit  it  is 
necessary  that  vou  should  know  that 
as  soon  as  night  appears  there  will 
come  a  consid«;rable  crowd  to  our  door, 
and  'will  take  her  away  in  a  chair. 

He  was  goine  to  proceed,  when  he 
was  suddenly  stopped  by  the  noise  that 
he  heard  :  it  was  his  sister-in-law  that 
passed  near  the  window  of  the  room ; 
at  which  Liu-Pao  went  h&tily  out  at 
another  door,  iusoOiuch  that  he  had 
not  time  to  add  the  circumstance  q€ 
the  mourning  head-dress :  it  was  doubt- 
less by  the  particuhir  direction  of  Hea- 
ven that  this  circumstance  was  omitted. 

Ouang  readily  perceived  that  ^te 
noise  she  made  at  t!ie  window  had  obli- 
ged Liu-Pao  to  break  off  his  discourse 
abruptly :  the  tone  of  his  voice  plani- 
ly  showed  that  he  had  still  something 
more  to  say,  but  she  had  heard  enough: 
for  finding  by  hb  aur  when  he  entered 
the  room  that  he  had  some  secret  to 
conummicate  to  his  wile,  she  pretend- 
ed to  withdraw,  and  listening  secretly 
at  the  window  heard  these  words  dis- 

Digitized  by  VjOQQIC 


MHjcmr.T.ANoqs, 


199 


linctlyy  ihet^  wiB  carr^  her  af^  they 
will  fmt  her  im  m  cktdr. 

These  words  greatly  strengtfaeaed 
ller  luspicioQs :  theo  eoterini;  the  room, 
and  goiog  to  Yang-Sang,  she  declared 
her  uneasiness  to  her.  Sister  in  law, 
said  she  to  her^  you  behold  an  unfor- 
:toBate  widow  who  is  bound  to  you  by 
the  strongest  ties  of  the  most  sincere 
^pdship,  and  therelure  by  this  very 
mbdship  I  conjure  you  to  acknow- 
ledge freely  whether  your  husband  per- 
sists in  his  former  design,  of  forcing  me 
to  a  marriage  which  will  prove  my  ut- 
ter ruiBw 

•  At  these  words  Yang  appeared  in 
confusion,  and  biilshed ;  but  recover- 
ng  herself  soon  after,  why  should  you 
have  sodi  thoughts,  sister,  said  she  to 
her,  and  why  do  such  strange  fancies 
disturb  your  mind  ?  if  there  was  a  de- 
sign of  a  second  marriage,  do  you 
think  there  would  be  any  great  diffi- 
culty in  the  matter  ?  but,  alas !  to  what 
■  purpose  should  a  person  throw  himself 
into  the  water  before  the  bark  is'going 
to  be  cast  away? 

When  Ouang  heard  the  proverb  of 
the  bark,  she  understood  better  the 
.sense  of  the  private  discoqrse  of  her 
brother  in  law:  she  immediately  gave 
herself  up  to  complaints  and  tettrs,  and 
quite  overwhehned  with  grief,  shut  her- 
self  up  in  her  room,  where  she  wept, 
'  sighed,  and  lamented.  What  a  wretch 
am  I,  said  she,  that  I  know  not  what 
b  become  Af  my  husband !  Ltu-Tchin 
my  brother-in-law  and  friend,  whom 
•  I  might  depend  upon,  b  on  a  journey ; 
my  parents  and  relations  live  at  a  great 
dbtance ;  if  thb  affiiir  b  hastened, 
how  can  I  give  them  notice  ?  1  can 
hope  for  no  assistance  from  my  neigh- 
bours, for  Liu-Pao  is  become  formida- 
ble among  them,  and  they  know  he  b 
capable  of  the  blackest  villany ;  wretch 
that  I  am  !  1  cannot  escape  from  hb 
snares ;  if  my  ruin  b  not  perfected  to- 
night^  it  will  to-monrow,  or  in  a  very 
short  time  ;  the  only  thing  I  can  do  b 
to  put  ap  end  to  thb  painful  life  ;  to 
jdie  once  is  much  better  than  to  suf- 


fer a  thousand  dealitt;  and  what  b 
my  life  but  one  continual  death. 

She  then  came  to  a  resdution,  but 
deferred  executing* it  till  the  evening. 
As  s(fon  as  day  had  left  our  heml»- 
phere,  and  darkness  had  succeeded  in 
its  room,  she  retired  into  her  chamber^ 
and  shutting  herself  up,  took  a  cord, 
and  fastened  one  end  of  it  to  a  beam, 
and  at  the  other  made  a  running  noose; 
she  got  upon  a  stool,  modestly  adjusted 
her  garments  about  her  feet,  and  then 
cried  out  Supreme  Tien,  avenge  my 
cause.  After  this  she  threw  down  her 
head-dress,  and  putting  her  head  and 
ueck  into  the  running  noose^  she  hfok- 
ed  away  the  stool  with  her  foot,  and 
was  left  suspended  in  the  air. 

Here  was  an  end,  as  one  would  ima- 
gine, of  thb  unfortunate  lady  ;  but  h 
somehow  happened  that  the  cord, 
though  made  of  hemp,  and  seemingly 
very  strong,  immediately  broke,  and 
she  fell  to  the  ground  half  dead. 

Yang  ran  towards  the  room  as  soon 
as  she  heard  the  noise  which  was  oo> 
casioned  by  her  violent  fall,  and  found 
the  door  barricadoed  ;  she  thought  it 
was  the  effect  of  a  troubled  mind,  and 
therefore  took  a  bar  and  wrenched 
open  the  door ;  as  the  night  was  ex- 
tremely dark,  in  entering  the  room, 
her  feet  were  entangled  in  Ouanff's 
garment,  which  threw  her  down ;  thb 
fall  forced  her  head-dress  to  iome  db- 
tance, and  the  fright  she  was  in  made 
her  faint  away  for  a  few  moments; 
when  she  had  recovered  her  senses 
she  rose  up  and  went  to  seek  for  a 
lamp,  and  returning  to  the  room  found 
Ouang  extended  upon  the  floor  with- 
out motion,  and  her  breath  almost 
gone^  for  the  chord  bound  her  so  very 
tight  that  she  foamed  at  the  mouth, 
upon  which  she  immediately  loosened 
the  running  noose. 

While  she  was  proceeding  to  do 
other  services,  she  beard  a  knocking 
at  the  door ;  she  made  no  doubt  but 
it  was  the  merchant  of  Kiang*Si  that 
came  to  fetch  hb  purchased  spouse ; 
she  ran  hastily  to  receive  them,  and 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


190 


MlSCCLLAKBOtrS. 


iDtrodoce  them  into  ber  chambpr  that 
they  might  be  wknetses  of  Hrhat  had 
JiuMieaed;  through  haste,  and  not 
friUiDg  to  appear  wkhoat  a  head* 
dress,  she  took  ap  that  wUch  she 
found  at  her/eet,  which  was  the  monrn- 
ing  head-dress  of  Oaai^« 

It  was  itt  reality  t^  merchant  of 
Kiaag-Si  who  came  to  take  away  the 
lady  that  had  been  promised  him ;  he 
bad  a  wedding  chair  adorned  with 
streamers  of  silk,  festoons,  flowers, 
and  several  fine  lanterns  i  it  was  sur- 
rounded with  domestics  who  carried 
lighted  torches,  and  a  crowd  of  musi- 
daas  who  were  to  play  on  flutes  and 
bantboys.  All  these  attendants  were 
placed  in  the  street  without  playing  on 
their  music,  or  making  the  least  noise : 
the  merchant  had  advanced  a  little  for- 
ward, and  knocked  softly  at  the  door, 
bat  fim&ig  it  half  open,  he  entered 
the  house  with  lighted  flambeaux. 

When  Yang  appeared,  the  mer- 
diant  seeing  her  in  a  mourning  bead- 
dress,  wbioi  was  the  signal  agreed 
upon,  and  being  likewise  charmed 
with  her  air  and  features,  he  laid  hold 
of  her  as  a  hungry  hawk  seizes  a  little 
belpless  bird :  his  followers  ran  to  hb 
assistance,  and  shut  the  lady  up  in  the 
ehak  which  was  there  ready  to  receive 
her;  in  vain  slie  cried  out,  you  are 
deceived,  it  is  not  me  you  seek  for ; 
the  noise  of  the  instruments  was  soon 
heard,  which  drowned  her  voice,  while 
the  chairman  that  carried  her,  rather 
flew  than  walked  to  transport  her  to 
the  bark. 

While  this  was  acting,  Ouang,  who 
had  received  assistance  from  tl^  care 
of  her  sister-in-law,  was  come  to  her- 
sdf  and  had  recovered  her  senses^ 
the  great  noise  that  she  heard  at  the 
door  renewed  her  fears,  and  filled  her 
with  dreadful  inquietudes;  but  when 
slie  perceived  the  noise  of  the  trum- 
pets, and  the  confusion  of  voices,  and 
Bttdcal  instruments  go  still  farther  and 
fofther  ofi^  she  began  to  grow  bolder, 
and  in  about  half  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
^pentured  to  go  and  see  what  was  die 


AAer  she  had  called  her  sister  ia 
law  several  times  to  no  purpose,  sfae 
imagined  that  the  merchant  nad  made 
a  mistake,  and  had  taken  herawajr 
though  he  came  for  another ;  bat  sbe 
was  fearful  of  some  troobfesome  inc»> 
dent  m  return,  when  Lkh¥9aAoMt 
be  informed  of  the  nuslake.  Sfaetbett 
shut  benelf  up  in  her  chamber,  wbet« 
she  collected  her  seattesed  jewels  vad 
other  paru  of  her  head-dress  that  iAk 
left,  and  entertained  thoughts  of  t»> 
king  a  little  rest ;  bot  she  ooold  not 
dose  her  eyes  doriag  the  whole  ntght*. 

Early  in  the  morning  she  rose  op^ 
and  while  she  was  seeking  bermonriH 
ing  head-dress  to  put  it  on,  she  heard 
a  noise  at  the  door,  of  one  knockmr 
very  hard,  crying  out  open  the  door  1 
it  was  the  voice  of  Liu-Pao,  whick 
she  was  well  acquainted  with.  She 
was  not  long  in  resolving  what  to  do^ 
but  let  him  knock  without  answering : 
he  swore^  cursed,  and  bawled,  till  be 
grew  hoarse  ;  at  last  Ouang  went  to 
the  door,  and  standing  behind,  witfa> 
out  opening  it,  who  » that  that  knocks  ? 
said  she,  and  who  is  it  that  makes  such 
a  noise  ?  Liu-Pao,  who  quickly  distin- 
guished the  voice  of  his  sister«in4««ry 
was  immediately  seised  with  a  strange 
dread,  especially  when  she  refused  to 
open  the  door ;  Sister-in4aw,  said  he, 
1  have  good  news  to  teH  you,  Lnt^ 
Tchin  our  younger  brother  b  return- 
ed, and  our  eldest  brother  enjoys  p^^ 
feet  health ',  open,  quickly. 

At  these  words,  concerning  the  i«u 
turn  of  L4u-Tchio,  Ouang  ran  to  take 
the  Uack  head-dress  that  Yang  bad 
left,  but  in  vain  did  she  expect  to  see 
her  dear  Uu-Tdno,  for  there  was-  no- 
body but  Lio-Pao,  who  entered  imme- 
diately her  room,  but  not  seeing  his 
wife  there,  and  moreover  observing  a 
black  head-dress  on  his  sister-in-law's 
bead,  his  suspicions  were  strangely  re- 
newed. At  length  he  cried  out,  witer^ 
is-your-sister  in  law?  You  ought  to 
know  better  than  I,  replied  Ouang, 
since  it  was  you  that  carried  on  dm 
fine  intrigue.  But  tell  me,  repMed  Lh^ 
Pao,  why  do  you  not  wear  yoor  white 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


imcniLAinRius* 


m 


ftcad-dress  ?  In  answer  to  wfucb^  Oa- 
u^  was  so  complaisant  as  te-  relate 
tbe  history  of  what  hail  happened  du* 
ring  his  absence. 

She  had  hardly  made  an  end  of  her 
story  before  LiohPao  began  to  beat 
his  breast)  and  acted  like  a  madman, 
bat  coming  to  himself  by  degrees,  I 
have  one  comfort  in  my  misfortunes, 
said  be  to  himself,  I  will  sell  my  sister- 
in-law,  and  with  the  money  I  will  buy 
another  wile,  and  nobody  ^11  know 
that  I  have  been  so  unfortunate  as.  to 
sell  my  own.  He  had  been  playing 
aU  the  night,  and  had  lost  the  thirty 
caeb  which  he  had  recdved  from  the 
merchant  of  Kiang-Si,  who  was  alrea- 
dy at  a  great  di^aace  with:  his  new 
bride  ;  he  was  preparing  to  go  out  in 
Older  to  negociate  this  i^r,  when  he 
perceived  at  the  door,  four  or  five  per* 
sons  who  wanted  admittance:  they 
were  his  eldest  brother  Lin-Yu,  his 
youngest  brother  Liu*Tchin,  his  ne- 
phew Hi-Elul,  and  two  domestics  that 
carried  the  baggage.  Liu^Pao  amas* 
ed  at  this  sight,  and  not  having  the  as- 
surance to  confront  them,  made  what 
haste  he  could  oat  at  the  back  door, 
and  vanisbed  like  lightning. 

The  lady  Ooang,  transported  with 
joy,  came  to  recmve  her  dear  husband ; 
bat  how  exceeding  was  her  delight, 
when  she  perceived  her  son,  wJMim 
she  hardly  knew,  he  was  grown  so 
-nncii,  and  had  so  fine  a  person*  AhJ 
by  what  good  fortune,  said  she,  have 
yon  brought  back  this  dear  son  whom 
I  sopposed  to  be  fost  ? 

Lau«  Yn  enteied  into  the  detail  of  all 
his  adventures,  and  Ooang  in  her  turn 
related  at  large  all  the  ind^ides  that 
L*io-Pao  had  made  her  suffer^  and  the 
extremities  to  which  he  had  reduced 
her. 

Then  Lin-Yu  having  bestowed  on 
his  wife  the  commendatioos  that  her 
fidelity  deserved,  If  by  a  bliud  pas» 
moa  for  riches,  said  Ip,  I  had  kept  the 
two  himdred  taels,  which  I  found  by 
phaace,  how  should  I  have  recovered 
any  dear  ^ild  ?  If  avarice  had  hio- 
dmd  me  from  giving  the  twenty  taeb 


to  save  thoet  who  irerer  salMig  shtp-^ 
wreck,  my  dear  brother  had  peririiec^ 
in  the  water,  and  I  should  never  have 
seen  him :  If  by  an  unlooked-for  ad- 
venture I  had  not  met  with  this  amii^ 
We  brother,  how  should  I  have  discov* 
ered  the  trouble  and  disorder  that 
reigned  in  my  house?  without  this, 
my  dear  wife,  we.  should  never  have 
been  reunhed,  our  family  would  have 
been  dismehibered,  and  we  sbouM 
have  been  phmged  into  afBlction.  All 
this  is  die  effect  of  the  particular  prov* 
idence  of  Heaven,  who  has  over-medt 
these  different  events :  as  for  my  other 
brother,  who  without  design  sold  his 
own  wife,  he  has  justly  brought  on 
himself  his  own  misfortunes:  the  Al- 
mighty Tien  treats  mankind  as  they 
deserve,  let  them  not  therdbre  think 
to  escape  his  justice. 

Not  long  after  Hi-Eul  #ent  to  fotch 
his  bride,  the  daughter  of  Tchin ;  the 
marriage  was  concluded  and  proved 
a  very  happy  one;  they  had  severd 
children,  and  saw  a  great  number  of 
their  grand-children,  many  of  which 
were  advanced  by  their  learning,  and 
raised  to  the  highest  offices  ;  thus  this 
family  became  illustrious. 

Faon  THx  CiscursATi  Gazetts. 

ABXWm  FITZROY,  OR  THE  YOUNO 
BACKWOOPSMAN. 

Daring  an  excuisioo  of  pleasure  ui 
the  spring  of  the  year  1S14,  after  a 
pleasant  day's  ride,  I  found  myself  on 
the  cliffs  of  the  Kentoeky  river:  the 
taftntive  ferryman  as  we  crossed  the 
stream,  pointed  to  a  neat  country 
house,  at  the  distance  of  some  half  a 
mile  on  the  opposite  shore,  "  where,*' 
said  he,  <<they  keep  tavern,  and  you 
can  be  accommodated."  Amused  with 
his  simple  garrulity  I  bade  him  fare- 
well, and  ascended  by  a  winding  path 
the  towery  cliff. 

The  sky  was  brilliant  with  the  thiu 
of  the  setting  sun ;  beyond  the  numer- 
ous and  variegated  farms  which  my 
elevation  overiooked,  the  distant  hills 
lost  their  tops  in  the  Woe  mists  of  heav- 


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192 


MlS<SLLANBOtrS. 


eo ;  all  ntitare  was  hushed  to  a  solema 
stillness,  save  the  hollow  echo  of  the 
feixymao's  song ;  even  the  impetuous 
stream  as  it  dasned  along  between  the 
stupendous  masses  of  calcareous  rock, 
whiih  presented  an  insurmountable 
barrier  on  either  side,  seemed  fearful 
of  disturbing  the  general  repose.  Nev- 
er have  I  been  more  delighted  with 
the  contemplation  of  nature;  every 
idea  for  a  while  was  lost,  save  that  of 
the  manii<Jd  and  resplendent  beauties 
which  surrounded  me.  As  I  rode 
along  the  brink  of  the  precipice  to- 
ward the  tavern  to  which  1  had  been 
directed,  I  discovered  at  a  short  dis- 
t^ce,  on  my  right,  a  small  country 
church,  to  which  I  involuntarily  turned 
Biy  horse :  I  have  ever  admired  the 
appearance  of  a  country  church  and 
grave-yard,  in  some  parts  of  Ken- 
tucky: in  the  copse  neiur  the  road 
side  a  neat  wooden  building  is  erect- 
ed 9  the  undergrowth  for  some  distance 
around,  cleared  away ;  while  the  ma- 
jestic trees  of  the  forest,  wave  their 
green  foil  age  in  silence,  over  the  clay 
tenements  of  those  who  have  ^^  been 
gathered  to  their  fathers."  The  graves 
are  scattered  around  the  ohurch,  and 
quite  shut  out  from  the  rays  of  the 
sun,  by  the  boughs  of  the  overhanging 
trees ;  no  costly  monuments  are  to  be 
seen,  but  occasii^nally  a  willow  or  an 
evergreen,  planted  by  some  kindred 
spiritj  awakens  a  train  of  emotions 
which  the  finest  marble  could  never 
1  mpart .  The  little  rural  temple  which 
stood  before  me,  was  built  of  hewn 
logs,  one  story  in  height,  and  ahpost 
hid  by  the  surroahding  forest.  As  I 
drew  nearer,  my  attention  was  arrest- 
ed by  the  commanding,  and  I  may 
add  martial  figure  of  a  man,  who  with 
down  cast  looks  was  standing  near  the 
foot  of  a  recent  grave,  over  which  was 
scattered  a  profusion  of  evergreens. 
There  was  a  degree  of  woe  depicted 
in  his  manly  but  sun-burnt  face,  that 
I  have  seldom  seen  exhibited ;  his  long 
dark  hair  hui^in  graceful  curls  below 
his  cap  of  fur,  and  the  green  hunting 
shut  in  which  he  was  clad,  was  fast- 


ened around  his  robost  body  by'aa 
Indian  belt ;  his  mockasins,  although 
much  wora,  were  of  the  beautiliil  kind, 
manufactured  by  the  natives  of  our 
north-west.  My  path  led  near  the 
side  of  the  church  yard,  Trhere  he  was 
standing  with  folded  arms,  but  petri- 
fied as  it  were  by  grief,  bie  appeared 
as  insensible  to  surrounding  objects  as 
a  statue  of  marble.  My  feelings  were 
deeply  interested  in  the  personage  be- 
fore me^  but  unwilling  to  appear  iu- 
trusive,  1  passed  on  to  the  tavern 
which  was  distant  but  a  few  hundred 
yards,  and  had  no  sooner  seated  my- 
self in  the  portico,  than  I  observed  the 
object  of  my  attention,  leave  his  posi- 
tion, and  with  a  slow,  and  measured 
step,  pursue  the  path  which  had  con- 
ducted me  up  the  steep  declivity.  Just 
as  he  was  disappearing  from  ray  view, 
the  landlady  entered,  and  calling  her 
attention  to  the  strange  figure  that  I 
had  been  contemplating,  i  enquired  W 
she  knew  him?  "Yes  sir,"  she  re- 
plied with  adee|S  sigh  and  serious  look^ 
"  I  know  him  well ;  he  was  formerly 
the  pride  of  our  neighborhood,  and  tlie  * 
happiest  youth  who  dwelt  upon  these 
hilb ;  his  history  is  a  sad  one,  but  if 
you  desire  to  hear  it,  as  soon  as  sop* 
per  is  over  I  will  relate  it  to  yoiu** 
On  our  retunuto  the  portico,  after 
having  partaken  of  some  refreshment^ 
my  landlady  begging  me  to  excuse 
her  country4ike  manner  of  relating  « 
story,  gave  me  the  following  narra- 
tion. 

"  The  name  of  the  unhappy  young  - 
man  of  whom  you  desire  me  to  speak 
is  AaTHtra  Fitzroy.  His  parents^ 
though  poor,  belonged  to  a  highly 
respectable  family  in  Virginia,  and 
were  among  those  who  eany  em^ra- 
ted  to  this  state,  and  made  the  ija- 
provement  where  they  now  reside, 
about  two  miles  from  the  opposite 
shore.  A  rthur  the  only  child  was  bom 
soon  after  their  aivival,  and  breathing 
nothing  from  infancy  but  the  salubri- 
ous air  of  these  mountainous  clifls,  and 
exercised  by  the  labours  of  the  farm 
and  chase,  his  person  attained  tiie 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


lUfoeixAJitotiaf^ 


m 


ake  anil  lAai^y  htmsij  wlueh  It  bow 
ohibitB ;  while  his  intellectual  (acul* 
ties,  improved  by  the  ablest  teachers 
which  could  be  procured,  gave,  at  the 
age  of  twenty,  iiMlicatkios  of  a  mind. 
yngcMtcuB  in  its  perceptions  and  repine 
with  the  noblest  feelings  of  our  na- 
ture. At  this  period  he  receified  from 
li  wealthy  uncle  in  Vifgittia^an  invita- 
tion to  spend  a  cauple  of  years  east  of 
the  mountains.  Arthur  was  enraptur* 
ed  with  the  idea,  and  upon  expressing 
his  wishes  to  his  parents,  woo  were 
ever  desirous  of  his  improvenief|t,  they 
wilUngly  consented.  The  day  (or  hn 
departure  soon  arrived,  and  well  in 
foct  do  f  remember  it :  the  coropan- 
kios  of  his  childhood,  both  male  and 
ftfliale,  for  many  miles  around,  had  as- 
sembled to  say  farewell,  and  witness 
his  departure;  and  cu  he  passed  a- 
Mund,  extending  bis  hand  with  an  as- 
aamed  air  of  cheerfulness,  there  was 
not  a  dry  eye  in  the  whole  circle. 

During  the  latter  part  of  the  twa 
years  which  he  spent  east  of  the  moun* 
tains  in  vishing  t|ie  principal  cities, 
Bnd  reading  wc^rks  of  general  litera- 
ture, be  became  acquainted  with  Em- 
etine Huntington,  the  daughter  of  a 
wealthy  merdiant  in  the  city  of  Rich- 
iBOod,  where  his  uncle  resided.  She 
had  just  entered  her  nineteenth  year, 
aad  to  a  mind  highly  cultivated,  poa- 
aessing  every  native  virtue,  there  was 
added  a  degree  of  fervour  and  eleva* 
lioo  of  fancy,  which  occasi<Amlly  seem- 
od  bordering  on  the  romantic.  Artless 
as  ao  infant,  divested  of  envy,  suspect- 
ing none  in  others,  she  was  esteemed 
by  all  who  knew  her,  whibt  the  con* 
tiBaed  sprightlhiess  of  her  manners, 
and  the  brilliant  eorruscationa  of  lier 
wi^  gave  a  2mi  to  the  enjoyment  of 
every  circle  in  which  she  mingled : 
ter  ware  the  attractions  of  her  mind 
wrpttsseci  by  those  of  her  person  ; 
caat  in  the  ^nest  aioold  of  her  sex, 
grace  characterized  every  movement, 
aad  loveliness  sai  enthroned  upon  her 
face. 

In  ouryoismg  Backwoodsman,  her 
eayiadiaslic  mind  iauod  a  congenial 

Aa 


spirit,  and  for  twait  W^uld  she  Itstesn, 
enraptured,  to  bis  flowing  descripriont< 
of  the  land  of  his  nativity,  aad  the 
hardships,  privations,  and  battles  with 
which  the  adventurous  piooeers  to  civ- 
ilisation in  the  western  country,,  bad' 
tocceaend.  Arthur  had  been  acqun I nt«' 
ed  Willi  her  bat  a  tew  moathsfre  he 
discovered  that  her  audHy  was  e.  ^  <'a- 
tial  to  his  happiness,  and  the  n^it't  uf 
a  protracted  Interview,  wUch  sooa 
took  place,  rendered  him  the  happiest 
of  men ;  in  short,  emotions  of  a  new 
kind  were  awakened  in  the  breast  of 
each,  aud  Heaven  was  called  to  wit* 
neas  their  dedaratioiis  of  unshakea 
constancy.  That  corredaess  of  de- 
portment which  had  ever  chaiacter^ 
eed  Emeline,  was  again  mantfesiad  by 
an  early  disclosure  to  her  parents,  of 
the  engagement  which  she  had  formed } 
but  great  was  her  surprise,  and  al« 
most  insuppprtable  her  gve(,  upui^ 
learning  that  they  were  utterly  hcMi-  . 
tile  to  the  connection  ;  they  could  rlly 
bnx^e  the  idea  of  marrying  tbejf  ^ 
daughter,  pctssessing  wealth,  beauty, 
and  Intelligence,  to  a  young  back* 
woodsman,  without  fortune,  and  with* 
out  celebrity.  He  was  furtharith  for* 
bid  the  touse,  aud  she  enjoined  to 
break  off  all  communication  with  that 
mah,  for  whom  alone  life  now  seemed 
to  her  worth  possessing.  Aillmrmade 
several  unsticcessful  attemps  for  a  per* 
sonal  interview,  and  with  feehngs 
highly  lacerated,  disappointed  hopes, 
aiul  mortified  pride,  returned  to  the 
Western  Country.  His  arrival  was  a 
source  of  joy  to  bis  fond  parents,  and 
delight  to  the  neighbourhood,  and  a 
twelve-month  soon  glided  away  with* 
out  the  occurrence  of  any  event  wor« 
thy  of  narration,  lite  remembrance 
of  the  beloved  object  of  his  afiections, 
dissipated  his  former  gaiety,  and  in 
vain  were  hn  books,  and  the  pleasures 
of  the  chase  resorted  to,  as  a  means  of 
restoring  his  wonted  cheerfulness.  In 
this  gloomy  mood  he  was  most  pleas- 
antly surprised  by  the  arrival  of  the 
beauteous  Lmeline  in  his  own  immedi- 
ate uflighborhood.    One  of  those  un- 

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194 


MlftCBLLANSOOS. 


fortunate  specolalioiis  wbkh  so  frp- 
qaently  fuio  cotDniercial  meOy  haci 
swept  away  the  wealth  of  her  father, 
and  induced  him  to  seek  an  asylum  in 
the  west ;  but  whether  his  settlement 
in  thi3  immediate  neighborhood,  arose 
'  (jrom  his  owning  tlie  small  tract  ol 
Sand  en  which  he  now  resides,  or  the 
hope  of  renewing  the  engagement  be> 
tween  Fitxroy  and  his  daughter,  is  un- 
certain. Tlie  connection  however  was 
immediately  renewed,  and  never  per- 
haps was  there  a  more  perfect  coinci- 
dence of  thought  and  feeling,  than  this 
happy  pair  exhibited.  Often  have  I 
seen  them  clambering  over  these  nig- 
ged cliffs;  wandering  in  the  shady 
groves,  or  sitting  on  the  rocks  engaged 
ID  reading  and  conversation ;  her  fan- 
ciful imagination  seemed  now  to  real- 
ize all  the  former  anticipations  of  love 
in  a  cottage,  and  happiness  amid  the 
uncultivated  wilds  of  the  west. 

The  day  for  the  solemnization  of 
the  marriage  had  been  appointed,  and 
was  distant  but  two  weeks,  when  the 
imwelcome  intelligence  of  (ienerat 
HulPs  disgraceful  surrender,  reached 
Kentucky.  The  call  of  the  executive 
for  volunteers  to  protect  the  defence- 
less^ frontiers  of  the  northwest,  bad  no 
sooner  met  the  ear  of  young  Fitzroy, 
than  his  resolution  was  formed. — 
That  love  of  country,  and  proud  spirit 
of  independence  whkh  have  charac- 
terized the  natives  of  the  west,  shone 
forth  in  him  with  an  increased  brill- 
iancy ;  his  bosom  fired  with  the  im- 
pulse of  a  noble  enthusiasm  in  the 
cause  of  his  country  and  suflering  hu- 
manity, permitted  him  not  for  a  mo- 
ment to  hesitate  in  exchanging  the 
blandishments  of  love,  for  the  hiabili- 
ments  of  war,  or  his  anticipated  union 
to  a  beloved  female,  for  t^e  fatigues 
of  the  camp :  the  preparations  for  the 
approaching  ceremony  at  the  ahw  of 
Hymen,  were  instantly  changed  to 
those  for  a  campaign^  and  m  teh  days 
Fitzroy  was  ready  for  the  teuted  field. 
1  was  myself  present  at  the  last  inter- 
view between  him  and  his  intended 
bride,  which  took  place  on  the 


iog  of  his  departure.  Oh.  it  was  aa 
u&cting  scene,  and  one  that  I  shall 
ever  remember.  H'ls  warlike  dress 
and  martial  mien  were  finely  contrast- 
ed with  her  delicate  form  and  simpli- 
city of  habit.  She  rose  as  he  entered 
the^room,  and  with  a  melancholy  look 
extended  her  tremUing  hand,  which 
he  seized  with  a  convulsive  grasp,  and 
pressed  to  his  lips — <^  I  go,  sweet 
girl,"  said  he,  ^  to  avenge  the  cause 
of  our  injured  country— to  protect  de- 
fenceless women  and  children  from 
savage jMrbarity,  and  wipe  away  the 
disgrace  of  an  ignominious  surrender  ; 
and  be  assured  that  in  the  midst  of  bat- 
tle, the  recollection  of  my  beloved  Em- 
eline  shall  nerve  this  arm  with  ten  fold 
vigor,  and  relying  upon  your  unshaken 
constancy,  and  the  smiles  of  Heaven^ 
I  shall  fearlessly  march  to  victor\  or 
death."  He  gazed  for  a  moment  ill 
silence  upon  1^  beautiful  face,  which 
wa^  bathed  in  tears ;  pressed  her  to 
his  bosom,  and  imprinting  upon  her  ru- 
by lips  a  fervent  kiss,  tore  himself  a- 
way,  and  joined  his  companions  in 
arms. 

(To  be  concluded  in  our  next.) 

THE  MUSICIAIV. 
**  Music  hath  cbanns  to  soothe  the  savage 
breast" 

An  inhabitant  of  Albertcn,  in  Eng- 
land, who  could  occasionally  handle 
his  fiddle,  on  his  way  home,  from 
whence  he*  had  been  exercising  his 
musical  talents,  for  the  eniertainaieiit 
of  his  c^Mjntry  neighbours,  in  passing 
through  a  field  about  three  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  in  the  month  ef  June, 
was  attacked  by  a  bull.  After  seve- 
ral efibrts  to  escape,  lie  attempted  to 
ascend  a  tree,  not  however  succeeding 
in  the  attempt,  a  momentary  impulse 
directed  him  to  pull  out  his  fiddle,  and 
fortifymg  himself  behind  the  tree  as 
well  as  he  could,  began  to  play ;  upon 
which  the  enraged  animal  beoune  to» 
tally  disarmed  of  his  ferocity,  and  a|>- 
peared  to  listen  with  great  attention. 
The  afifrighted  man,  finding  his  fierce 
and  formidable  enemy  so  much  ^ 

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MfGIUiANIOOA 


19d 


fouitif  befui  to  think  of  making  his 
eKape,  left  off  playing,  and  was  mov- 
ing off  without  even  the  slightest  de- 
sire to  know  who  should  pay  the  pi- 
per. This  however  the  bull  would 
not  sufler,  for  no  sooner  had  our  Or- 
pheus ceased  his  fascinating  strain, 
Ihno  the  bull's  rase  appeared  to  return 
with  as  much  violence  as  before.  He 
was  therefore  glad  to  have  recourse  a 
second  time  to  his  fiddle,  which  io- 
ttantly  operated  as  a  magic  charm 
vipoa  die  bull,  who  became  as  com- 
posed and  attentive  as  before.  He 
afterwards  made  several  more  at- 
tempts to  escape,  but  no  sooner  did 
he  stop  his  fiddle  than  the  bull's  anger 
vetumed,  so  that  he  was  compelled  to 
'  continue  fiddleing  till  six  o'clock, 
about  three  hours,  when  the  family 
came  to  fetch  the  cows,  by  which  he 
was  relieved  and  rescued  from  a  tire- 
some situation.  He  is  perhaps  the 
first  man  upon  record  who  may  really 
be  said  to  have  fiddled  for  his  life,  ami 
who  has  so  truly  fulfilled  the  poet's 
idea,  that  ^  Music  hath  charms  to 
aooChe  the  savage  breast." 


SINGULAR  RELATION. 

Tbom  ths  Pktbksburo  Rbpublioah. 

If  you  think  the  following  narra- 
tive worthy  of  your  attention,  you  are 
welcome  to  insert  it  in  your  paper. 

While  I  resided  in  Newbem,  North 
Cardina,  in  1814,  being  informed  that 
a  Negro  Woman  mjd  two  small  chil- 
dren, had  been  that  day  brought  in, 
who  had  been,  runaway  for  several 
years,  I  felt  a  wish  to  go  and  see  them, 
particularly  a^  there  was  something 
carious  connected  with  their  history. 
My  friend,  accompanied  me  to  the  jail, 
Ibr  they  bad  b^  lodged  there  lor 
^afe  keeping.  We  there  learned  the 
particulars  of  the  life  wliich  they  lived, 
or  rather  the  miserable  existence  which 
they  dragged  out,  during  the  seven 
'years  which  they  had  spent  in  the 
swamps  in  the  neighbourhood  of  New- 
bcro« 

TIte  awoer  of  this  woman^  about 


seven  years  previooily,  removed  to 
the  Western  country,  and  carried  with 
him,  all  hb  slaves,  except  thb  woman 
and  an  iniant  girl,  then  in  the  arms  of 
its  mother,  who  rather  than  be  sepa^- 
r^ed  from  her  husband,  who  was 
owned  by  another  person,  timely  elo- 
ped with  her  <;)uld,  and  completely 
avoided  the  vigilance  of  her  puisu^ 
ers. 

Those  who  are  acquainted  with  the 
lower  sections  of  that  state,  well  know 
that  it  abounds  in  marshei  and  kosy 
overgrown  with  weeds,  and  intersper^ 
sed,  in  som^  places,  with  clumps  of 
pine  trees.  Into  one  of  these  dreary 
retreats  this  womau  found  means  to 
conceal  herself  for  the  space  of  seven 
years;  and  to  find  meai^  also  ibr  her 
subsistence,  part}y  by  her  own  exer- 
tions and  the  assistance  of  her  hus- 
band, who  would  occasionally  make 
her  a  visit.  Living  in  this  situation^ 
she  soon  had  an  additional  burthen 
upon  her  hands,  by  the  birth  of  anoth- 
er cliild. 

The  manner  in  which  she  conceal* 
ed  herself  as  well  as  children  from 
discovery,  was  truly  singular ;  by  the 
strictest  discipline,  she  prevented  them 
ever  crying  aloud,  she  compelled  them 
to  stifle  dieir  little  cries  and  com- 
plaints, though  urged  to  it,  by  pinch- 
iqg  hunger,  or  the  severest  cold.  She 
prohibited  them  from  speaking  louder 
than  a  whisper.  This  may  appear 
strange  to  priate,  but  it  is  certainly 
true:  and  as  a  proof  that  no  decep- 
tion* was  used  in  this  case,  it  was 
satisfactorily  ascertained,  that  after 
they  had  remained  in  town  ibr  more 
than  a  month,  in  the  company  of 
children  who  were  noisy  and  clamour- 
ous, they  were  not  known  in  a  single 
instance  to  raise  their  voices  higher 
than  a  soft  whisper.  At  first,  it  was 
with  great  difficulty  that  they  could 
stand  or  walk  erect,  and  when  they 
did  attempt  to  walk^it  was  with  a  low 
stoop,  the  bust  inclining  forward,  and 
with  a  hasty  step  like    a  partridges 

*  Unless  a  deception  ii  pMOtlMd  apoa 
i».p-a,  ». 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


19^  HACBULAlOBOVi. 

Bat  their  fevoarite  posidon,  wa^  that 
of  squatting  upon  tmtir  hams.  In  this 
posture  they  could  remain  for  hours, 
without  any  apparent  we«rines8 ;  and 
at  a  ^iven  signal,  would  move  one  af- 
ter the  other  with  great  facility,  and  at 
the  same  time  with  so  much  caution, 
that  not  the  least  noise  could  be  heard 
by  their  footsteps. 

Their  method  of  subsistence  was  the 
ihost  extraordinary  ;    sometimes  the 
husband,  according  to  the  woman's  ac* 
count,  would  fail  to  bring  them  sup- 
plies ;  and  whether  the  fear  of  detec- 
tion prevented  her  from  intruding  on 
the  ric:hts  of  others,  or  whether  she 
was  prevented  by  conscientious  mo- 
tives, is  not  for  me  to  determine ;  bur 
in  this  dreadful  exigence,  she  would 
for  the  support  of  herself  and  children, 
have  recourse  to  expedients,  which  no- 
thing but  the  most  pressing  necessity 
could  ever  suggest.     Frogs  and  terra- 
pins were  considered  as  rare  dainties, 
and  even  snakes  would  be  taken  as  a 
lawful  prise  to  satisfy  the  calls  of  hun- 
ger.    It  was  the  custom,  said  the  wo- 
man, in  the  little  family,  when  they 
made  up  a  (ire  in  the  night,  and  this 
was  done  only  in  the  cold  nights  of 
winter,  for  one  to  sit  up,  while  the 
others  slept.     The  one  who  watched, 
had  a  double  duty  to  perform,  not 
only  to  do  the  ordinary  duty  of  a  cen- 
tinel,  but  to  watch  for  mice,  which 
they  contrived  to  catch  in  the  follow- 
ing manner.     I'he  pe^-lbn  watcbine, 
would  spread  a  little  meal    on    the 
ground,  ot^a  few  grains  of  com,  or 
peas,  or  for  want  of  these,  a  crust  of 
bread,  when  they  had  it;  over  which, 
an  old  handkerchief,  or  piece  of  cloth, 
was  spread;  tbeti,  observing  a  pro- 
found and  deathlike  silence,  the  mioe 
would  creep  from  their  retreats  in  or- 
der to  possess  themselves  of  the  bait. 
The  cenriiiel,  true  to  his  pott,  as  soon 
as  the  cloth  was  moved  by  the  vagrant 
mouse,  would  very  dexterously  sm»ck 
down  a  pair  of  hands  upon  him,  and 
secure  him  for  purposes  j^et  to  be  raen- 
lioned,     1  he  flesh,  as  may  be  suppo 
sed,  was  used  for  food,  which  they  4^ 


(Hired  with  as  little  ceremooy  M  H 
boy  would  eat  a  snow-bird ;  but  evea* 
the  skin  was  not  thrown  away:  for 
this  beirigcarefully  preserved,  the  hair, 
or  fur  was  picked  off,  and  mixed  with 
wool  or  cotton  for  the  purpose  of  mak- 
ing gloves  and  stockings;  and  they 
managed  to  spin  up  the  materials  they 
could  procure,  by  means  of  a  stick, 
about  six  or  eight  inches  in  lengtli« 
This  was  held  in  the  lef^  hand,  while, 
with  the  right,  they  held  the  material* 
to  be  spun.  They  gave  us  a  sped- 
men  of  their  adroitness  in  this  art| 
and  the  little  boy  who  was  not  abov^ 
five  years  old,  could  manage  hb  slick 
with  surprising  dexterity.  SevenU 
pair  of  stockings  and  gloves  wens  ^ 
shown,  which  had  been  knit  by  these  * 
singular  beings,  during  their  voluntary  t 
banishment.  They  were  grotesqtie 
enough  in  their  appearance,  and  wefc 
made  up  of  a  greater  medley  of  nsa* 
terials  than  are  generally  used  in  the 
civilized  world. 

How  much  longer  this  deluded  Afri- 
can, with  her  two  wretched  childtpeo^ 
would  have  remained  in  the  comfort* 
less  Savannahs  of  North  Carolina, 
is  not  known,  had  not  the  woman 
been  deserted  by  her  husband.  Being 
deprived  of  the  solace  she  derived 
from  his  transient  visits,  and  theaean- 
ty  subsistence  she  received  from  hik 
hand,  her  situation  became  miserable 
beyond  description.  At  length,  weak 
and  emaciated  with  hunger,  she  crept 
to  the  road,  and  gave  herself  up,  witk 
her  equally  meagre  looking  charge,  %m 
the  first  person  she  saw,  who  happen- 
ed very  fortunately  to  be  a  man,  willi 
his  cart,  going  towards  ttfwn,  the  sIgliC 
indeed,  to  the  citizens,  was  a  nova 
one,  if  we  may  judge  from  the  nimi* 
bers  who  crowded  to  see  and  detar- 
mine  for  themselves. 


SINGULAR  PHENOMENQir. . 

At  Sag-Har{K)ur,  on  the  30A  4f 

l>ecember,  about  10  o'clock,  A*n*  m 

streak  of  fire  about  the  \ngoeu€iM 

maa^s  body^  Mid  about  atey  ft«l  im 

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jmetmJMmm. 


tfr 


a,  WW  mPBM  to  shoot  frooi  the 
footb  in  the  western  hemisphere.^*- 
The  air  at  that  time  was  entirely  dear, 
and  scarcely  a  dond  to  be  seen.  We 
ihould  like  to  hear  the  opinioo  of 
m  astroQOXQer  respecting  it 

HONESTY  IS  THE  BEST  POLICT. 
The  eiperience  of  every  day  proves 
ihe  soundness  of  this  maxim,  and  it  is 
ibrcibly  exemplified  in  the  following : 
An  individual  in  trade,  finding  he 
coald  no  longer  carry  on  bis  business, 
without  unlawful  sacrifices,  became 
bankrupt.  A  meeting  of  his  creditors 
was  called, -and  an  examination  had  of 
hb  accounts,  goods,  &c.  which  resuh- 
ad  so  much  to  their  satisfaction,  (not, 
Iwwever,  on  account  of  the  amount  gf 
property  he  possessfed,  as  from  the 
Aill  disclosure  he  made  to  them  of  his 
effects  and  very  fair  state  of  his  books) 
that  they  aot  only  released  htm  from 
die  operation  of  their  claims,  but  also 
gave  the  individual,  by  general  con- 
mt,  the  sum  of  one  thousand  dollars. 
In  addition  to  the  pecuniary  gratuity 
so  (redy  voted,  the  debtor  retains  the 
character  of  an  hopourable  man. — 
While  we  take  pleasure  in  recording 
this  fisu;t,  as  honorary  to  the  debtor. 
Mid  so  estimable  in  the  creditors,  we 
Juive  to  regret  that  such  instances  are 
IKK  more  common. 

fOMSH  BARBARtTt. 

The  96th  number  of  the  Letters 
Jfarmands  contains  the  following  his- 
torical fact. 

General  Lasalle  being  at  Toledo, 
went  to  visit  the  palace  of  the  inquisi- 
tion (for  in  Spain  the  inquisitors  like 
other  monks,  wear  tiie  coarsest  stufi* 
for  dothes,  and  inhabit  the  most  beau- 
tiful marble  palaon.)  At  sight  of  the 
Untnunents  of*  torture,  the  general  and 
the  soldiers  who  accompanied  him 
4uiddt»ed.  It  was  more  h^ble  than 
the  most  dreadful  Add  of  battle.  A- 
moag  these  instrumAits  w^s  ont>. 
which  from  the  species  of  sacrilege  o! 
which  it  cqiiveye^l  the  idea^  fixed  more 


particdad^nha  aMeatfmK^thn  FVeodi 
officer.  In  a  subterraneous  prison^ 
near  a  room  which  was  occupied  1^ 
the  inquisitor,  whose  business  it  wm 
to  interrogate  people  accused  of  here- 
sy, there  stood  in  a  niche  the  stat«r 
of  the  Virgin  Mary.  A  golden  ^]0tf 
surrounded  the  mother  of ^  the  Ro^ 
deemerofthe  homao  race,  ^*;r  right 
hand  held  the  oriJUnnb^  a  drapery  of 
sHk  stuff  descended  from  her  shouhiers 
to  her  feet,  and  through  the  folds  dT 
a  mantle  a  sort  of  cuirass  was  to  bo 
seen.  Thb  statue  seemed  to  be  an 
imitation  of  the  statue  of  Joan  d'Arc, 
which  is  seen  at  Orleans.  Examin- 
ing it  more  closely,  they  (bund  that 
the  cuirass  of  the  Virgin  was  filled 
with  blades  of  knives  and  sharp  point* 
ed  nails.  The  arms  of  the  statue 
were  moveable;  and  were  set  in  mo- 
tion by  an  instrument  behind  the  par- 
tition. The  general  gave  orders  to 
one  of  the  servants  of  the  inquisitToi^ 
to  set  this  machine  in  motion^  the 
bag  of  a  Polish  grenadier  took  the 
place  of  the  heretic.  The  statue 
caught  it  in  her  arms  and  squeesed  it 
verydosdy.  When  it  was  taken  away 
the  beg  was  found  pierced  with  hole% 
the  poiots  of  the  nails  ;^iid  the  koivoa 
having  penetrated  to  a  oondderabk 
depth.  Thus  the  merdfol  Mary,  the 
queen  of  angels,  became  in  the  hands 
of  the  inquisitors  the  Uoody  minister 
of  fimatical  fury;  and  that  notldo^ 
might  be  wanting  to  the  odious  proftn- 
ation,  they  had  given,  by  a  sort  of  play 
upon  words,  the  name  of  Modbne  aohf 
rota  to  thb  terrible  statue. 


WOOD  MAY  BE  RENDERED  INCOAf- 
BU3T16LE. 

A  person  in  or  near  London  made 
known  to  the  public  that  he  had  pro* 
vided  materials  for  a  bouse,  all  of 
wood:  and  that  they  were  proof 
against  fire ;  and  that«  on  a  day  fijeed, 
he  would  have  it  on  rutney  Common^ 
■^nd  a  sufficient  quantity  of  combusti- 
hles  to  try  the  experiment.  Accord- 
ingljf  a^reat  c9n«ottrte  of  people  at- 


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198 


pomcuL. 


sembled.  The  house  was  set  op,  and 
fire  set  to  it  in  several  places,  but  it 
would  not  burn.  The  fact  is,  the 
wood  had  been  rendered  incombusti- 
Me  by  its  being  previously  soaked  in 
ahini  water.  Boards  that  are  used 
near  a  stove-pipe,  or  in  any  situation 
near  the  fire,  might  be  soaked  with  the 
above,  and  so  prevent  them  from 
catching  fire,  and  save  all  the  calami- 
ty whic^  so  often  follows  such  acci- 
dents. 

THE  MABRIEB  STATE. 

The  conjugal  state  is  certainly  re- 
plete with  friendship  of  the  most  refin- 
ed nature ;  when  two  congenial  hearts 
unite  in  virtuous  love,  their  every  httle 
domestic  joy  is  heightened  into  bliss 
by  a  mutual  sympathy  of  feeling.  The 
teuderest  emotions  of  the  soul,  the 
warmest  efiiisions  of  the  heart,  kindly 
vibrate  to  the  responsive  ties  of  afiec- 
tion  and  solicitude,  and  continue  to  dif- 
liise  unspeakable  joy  all  around. 

ARCHBISHOP  OF  COLOGNE. 
An  emperor  of  Germany  coming  by 
accident  into  a  church,  where  he  found 
an  ill-favoured  ooked  priest  saying 
mass,  ^  PenefK>rtentum  nature,''  that 
teemed  a  scandal  to  human  nature,  the 
emperor  despised  him,  as  unfit  to  dis- 
charge the  sacred  ofiices  of  the  church ; 
but  hearing  him  read  in  the  psalm  ap- 
pointed for  the  day,  ^  It  is  He  that 
made  us,  and  not  we  ourselves,''  the 
emperor  reproved  himself  for  his  proud 
aid  harsh  opinion ;  and  inquiring  into 
die  qualifications  of  the  priest,  and 
finding  him  a  person  of  exemplary  pie- 
ty and  erudition,  he  made  him  arch- 
Ittshop  and  elector  of  Cologne,  which 
great  perferment  he  discharged  with 
all  the  care  and  fidelity  imaginable. 

INDUSTRY. 
Miss  Sophiah  Taylor  of  Verona, 
Oneida  county,  spun,  at  the  house  of 
Jabez  Loomis,  Elsq.  on  the  8th  of  No- 
vember last,  162  knots  of  woolen  yam, 
'Htt  k  common  large  wl«Bel,betweenflie  p 


hours  of  six  in  the  moming  and  nitttf 
in  the  evening: ^Ladies, out  dotfaia 
if  you  can." 

ENIGMA. 
The  following  letters  wer6  found 
written,  in  a  Welch  chnrch,  over  the 
tern  commandments,  and  remained 
more  than  a  century  unexpluned. — 
The  meaping,  when  discovered,  com- 
mands admiration. 

PRSVRYPRFCTMN, 
VRKPTHSPRCPTSTN. 
To  read  the  above,  make  use  of  a 
vowel  as  often  as  necessary. 

HOGS! 
Mr.  Daniel  Gidley,  a  fanner  of 
Poughkeepsie,  Dutchm  county,  New- 
York,  fatted  in  the  last  season  120 
hogs,  averaging  232  lbs.  each,  making 
in  the  aggregate  23,630  pounds,^  and 
13  waggon  lo^  of  pork. 


POETICAL 


For  TBS  Masohic  RcoisrxAk. 

EPISTLE, 

To  Miss ^* 

When  all  the  world  has  sunk  to  rest* 
And  business  stays  its  rolling  wheel ; 

Life's  anxious  cares  no  more  mole^ 
The  throbbing  heart  has  leave  to  feel ; 

How  sweet  'tis  then  to  think  of  those 
For  whom  we  onlv  wish  to  live. 

Whose  viKueSf  like  the  blushing  rose, 
New  frag^tmoe  to  each  hour  can  give. 

When  wand'riiig  on  some  distant  thore. 
As  youth's  gay  prospects  pass'd  away,* 

Sick  of  the  world,  my  soul^  would  soar> 
To  regions  of  celestial  day] 

Redons  where, love  forever  reigns, 

And  kindred  spirits  reunite  ; 
Where  spring  bedecks  the  flow'ry  plains 

With  scenes  of  permanent  delight. 

Then  would  the  thought  of  meeting  the^, 
SetQe  and  calm  rav  troubled  lod,        ' 

Hush  the  wild  tainuft  of  the  sea, 
And  bid  its. billows  cease  to  roll. 

0,  if  those  dreams  forever  last ; 
And  I  thy  frien^ip  but  secure  ; 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


posnou.. 


m 


D*i  eoM  And  cheeriest  Mait, 
f  unrepiiiiog  will  endure. 

Wheo  death's  cold  hand  thall  dim  my  eyet, 
And  blot  thy  vision  from  my  view, 

Sink  to  the  tomb— then  from  It  rise, 
To  dwell  in  heaven— 4o  dwell  with  yea ! 

Ah  pardon  me,  this  heart  has  long 
Been  cold  as  Zenabla's  froien  shore, 

Where  winter  howls  its  dreary  song, 
With  wild  and  never  ceasing  roar. 

rve  trac*d  «aeh  stream  of  earthly  bliss. 
Each  spring  alas !  did  bitter  prove  : 

Bat  if  there's  one  that's  sweet,  it's  this. 
The  spring  of  friendship,  and  of  love. 


For  the  Masoihc  Rboistbe. 

AN  ADDRESS  TO  DEATH. 

Death,  king  terrific,  trembling  at  thy  sway, 

MaB  hates  thtf  tyrant  power  be  most  obey, 

Crr  the  wide  worid,  eitends  thy  dread  do- 


AD  nature  bows,  subjected  to  thy  reiga  ; 

The  gentle  aephyrs,  waft  thy  baneful  pow- 
er, 

Aad  tforms,  and  tempests,  all  thy  terrors 
shower : 

Earth,  whose  klnd^  fruits,  prolong  our  vi- . 
tal  breath,.  "^ 

B^  Qoiious  steams,  accelerates  our  death 

Men  ihiKisand  evils  push  us  to  our  doom, 

Man's  sad  rasoaroe>  the  soUlary  tomb. 
A.F.  B. 


For  TBS  MisoMic  Rroistbr. 

Lines  addressed  to  Mrs.  Mary  L**^*. 

Friend  to  my  life,  accept  the  feeble  lay. 
The  greatest  tribute,  that  my  heart  can  pay, 
Which  led  bv  cheerful  thanks,  for  Joys  be- 

stow*d» 
Would  bless  that  being,  from  whom  those 

fiivours  flow'd ; 
Whose  ceo'rous  soul,  its  golden  worth  dis- 
plays, 
And  helps  the  pilgrim,  through  lifis's  devi- 
ous ways. 

Whilst  you  enjoy  the  «alm,  and  cool  re- 
treat. 

With  Autumn's  plenty,  'midst  the  Sum- 
mer's heat. 

Whilst  choicest,  treasures,  in  assemblage 
wait, 

To  crowd  thv  lobby,  and  besiege  thy  gate, 

Thou  ne'er  hast  heard,  unmov'd,  the  poor 
complain, 

Ifor  has  the  needy  ask'd  of  thee  iq  vain. 

Flora's  rich  study,  oft  thy  time  employs. 
When  Snmmer':i  sun,  dispenses  heat  and 


And  vegetatioa,  sflllliig  la  ti^  Mds, 
For  all  thv  trouble,    all  their  prodnea 

Then   plentv  relgas   around  thy  festive 

board. 
And  pressing  welcome,  dwells  upon  thy 

worcL 

When  Winter  stem,  old  earth  with  ice  has 

bound. 
And  thrown  its  white  snow  mantle  o'ertha 

ground, 
*Tis  then  thy  greeB-house  all  its  charms. 

disclose. 
Of  tall  oleander,  and  the  blushing  rose  f 
The  sweet  baibanum,  with  the  oranga' 

hue. 
Ail  charm  the  sensesaad  enrich  the  view. 

From  distant  climes  with  choicest  plants 

It's  fraught, 
That  please  the  sight,  or  captivate  the 

thought; 
Arabia's  jessamins  here  in  beauty  blow : 
And  choice  geraniums  breathe  in  sweets 

.  below : 
Which  all  conspire  great  richnem  to  ^Bs- 

And  in  thefar  beauties  all  thy  cares  repay. 
A.  F.  B. 


For  TtiB  Masonic  Reoistibr. 
THE  WAT-WORN  PILGRIM. 

O'er  rugged  hills,  through  deserts  wOd, 
The  way-worn  pilgrim  forc'd  to  roam  ;- 

Finds  many  a  tedious  hour  beguil'd. 
In  thinmng  of  his  native  home. 

Where  wily  snakes  encircled  lie 
In  every  lonely  shade  and  brake, 

Doom'd  the  untasted  spring  to  fiy  ; 
Hungry,  the  fruit  he  dare  not  take. 

Umbrageous  trees  whose  lofty  heads, 
Entwifl'd  obstruct  the  solar  ray : 

Lonely  with  cautk>as  feet  he  trcMs, 
The  briery  path,  the  thorny  way. 

Whilst  lightnings  iash,  near  thunders  rolf> 
Fierce  winds  pursue  the  drifting  rain, 

While  terror  halt  unmans  his  soul, 
He  seeks  the  shelter'd  cot  in  vain. 

A.  F.  B. 


^  For  the  MaSohic  Rsoistsr. 
ENIGMA. 
Pour  letters  form  a  patriarch's  namat 
And  «rhat  applies  wnen  we're  to  blame, 
And  what  is  used  to  cover  shame. 
And  that  which  from  the  devil  came. 
And  what  all  wish  to  do— the  saiae^ 
N.  B.  A  solution  is  rNpi^ctJ. 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


fOBTtCAl. 


A  volMme  of  poetry  has  lately  appeared 
/  ip  England  and  paBsed  a  second  cwlHienf 
at  the  prodoction  of  a  NorthamptODshife 
fieMaot  aod  day  labourer*  oamed  John 
Clare.  In  the  last  Quarterlv  Review , 
itrong  testimony  is  borne  to  the  merit  of 
bis  Gompositions.  The  following  b  among 
the  spectmens  which  that  Joamal  ouotes, 
and  n  certainly  not  a  little  creditable  to 
the  genius  of  tlie  unlettered  poet 

^  And  what  is  life  ?— >An  hour  glass  on  the 
ruUf 
A  mist  retreating  from  the  morning  san, 
Abnsvybustlingy  stilt  repeated  dfeam— 
Its  length?— -a  .minute's  pause,  a  mo- 
menPs  thought : 
And  happinesif-ra  bubble  on  the  stream, 
That  in  the  act  of  selling  sinks  to  nought. 

^' And  what  b  hope  ?— the  pnfling  gale  of 
moruy 
Tliat  robs  each  llow'ret  of  its  gem— and 
dies, 
A  eob-web,  biding  disappointment's  thorn, 
^hich  stings  more  keenly  through  the 
thin  disguise. 

^  And  what  u  death  ? — Is  stilL  the  cause 

unfound .' 
Ibat  dark ,  mysterious  name  of  horrid  sound  ? 
A  long  and  lingering  sleep  the  weary 


And   peace  ?— where   can  its   happiness 
abound? 
Ko  where  at  aU^-^are  Heareai  and  the 


«TbeD  what  is  life  ?--wben  sttfpp*d  of  its 
disguise, 
A  thing  to  be  desfaned  it  cannot  be : 
Since  every  thing  that  meets  our  fo<^ish 
eyes, 
Gives  proof  sufficient  of  its  vanity. 

Tis  bat  a  trial  all  most  undergo ; 

To  teacb  untfaankfel  mortals  howto  pitee 
That  happiness  vain  man*s  denied  to  know 

UntUlies  caU'd  to  claim  H  in  the  skies." 


ON  A  VOtTNG  If  AN  HJOEPINa  IN 
CHURCH. 

Awake,  poor  youth !  ah  sleep  not  here. 
Hark!  Heavenly  strains  begin. 

Come  Join  in  strong  prevailing  pnyer ; 
Anop^^^  yo«r  soul  fpoas  sio. 

Awake,  and  join  the  angelic  thiongi 

Improve  the  talent  given ; 
Seraphie  music  ioats  apoand, 

Ajid  lifts  t^e  sonl  to  Heaviyi. 


R«;ltgion,  sacred,  awful,  de«pi 
And  warm  devotion  Hows ; 

tVhibtthou  art  lock'd  in  stupid  sleefpf 
And  bound  in  soft  repose. 


Lethargic  so«l,  awake  i  for  i 

And  purify  thy  breast ; 
Break  the  vain  cobwebs  of  a  dreaSf 

The  silken  bands  of  rest 

No  kmMr  clasp  an  airy  shade, 

A  visidnary  form; 
You  shaasefidlv  the  nan  degradar 

Tour  soul  with  guilt  deform. 


THE  DftUrOCARD. 

Go !  self  polhited  kpathseme  wretcb—  \ 

Disgraoe  of  human  kind, 
iio'-waste  thy  substance  and  thy  healthy 

And  brutalne  thy  mind '. 

Go— haoQtthe  tavern  nig^t  and  day, 

And  live,  eiist  in  vain ; 
Gi>— league  thyself  with  every  vke  I 

And  barter  peace  for  pain ! 

Go— live  accurst  to  social  joys, 

Till  life  a  burthen  b; 
Go— court  disease,  and  death  and  sUmie- 

Then  mock  thy  miseries ! 

Go— like  a  demon  to  thy  home. 

Destroy  aaeh  oomfort  there. 
And  from  thy  sorrowing  iuoJOf 

Wring  oat  the  bitter  tear. 

Enough!  enough!  if  ought  remain 

Of  virtue  in  thy  soul. 
Forsake  thy  mad  and  loathsooMnatli, 

And  spurn  the  treacherous  bowL 


8ATIKE. 


At  a  tsvertt  ona  night, 

Messrs.  More,  Strenea  and  Wright* 

Met  tocethar,  good  thoughU  to  eidumgev 

SajTS  More,  of  us  three, 

The  whobrtown  will  agreet 

There  b  but  one  knave,  and  that*s  Strange. 

tes,  says  Stuuge,  rather  sore, 

I'm  sure  there's  one  More, 

A  most  terrible  rogue  and  a  bite, 

Who  tied  up  hb  mother. 

And  knock  d  down  hb  brother ; 

0 !  yes,  replied  More,  that  is  W-right. 


MAXIM. 
If  you  vKwld  shun  remt  and  care. 
Be  sure  to  act  upon  toe  sgnore. 

HOYT  k  BOLMORE,  PRINTUS. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


TBE 


AMERICAN  MASONIC  REGISTER, 


AND 


Ladies^  and  Gentlemen'^  Magazine* 


BY  LUTHER  PRATT. 


H»  diat  U  slow  to  wrath  is  of  gnat  uadentanding :  but  he  that  is  hasty  of  spirit, 
naUMk  folly. 

He  that  oppressetk  the  poor,  reproacheth  his  Maker :  b«t  he  that  honoibieA  Hl»» 
hath  mercy  on  the  poor.  Solomov. 


[No.  VI.]  FOR  FEBRUARY,  A.  D.  1821.  A.  L.  5821.         [Vol.  I.] 


MASONIC* 

OftDCR  OF  PROCESSION  AT  LAYING 
THK  FOUNDATION  STONKi  OF  PUB- 
LIC  STRUCTURfiS,  &C. 

Two  tylen,  with  drawo  swords, 

Mvsic, 

Tyler  of  the  oldest  lodge,  with  a 

drawn  sword, 
Two  stewards  of  the  oldest  lodge, 
with  white  rods, 
E^alered  Appremices, 
"3  Fellow  Crafts, 

"S  Mastar  Masons, 

J  Tylers, 

Stewards, 
Janior  Deacons, 
Senior  Deacons, 
Secretaries, 
Tireasurers, 
Fft9t  Wardens, 
^  Junior  Wardens, 

-S         Senior  Wardens^ 
%  Past  Masters, 

S  Masters^ 


Graad  tj^,  with  a  drawn  sword, 

Grand  stewards,  with  white  rods, 

A  hnHber  carrym^  a  golden  vessel 

containing  com, 

Two  others  carrying  silver  urns,  ooe 

containing  wine,  the  oth'^r  oil. 


Principal  Architect, 

Grand  secretary  and  treasorer, 

Bible,  square  and   compass,  carried 


by  a  master  of  a 


:  whet 


supported 


by  two  stewards:  when  not  sup- 
ported by  stewards,  the  grand 
chaplain  walks  with  the  master  of 
the  lodge  who  supports  the  bible, 
square,  and  compass, 
^  Past  grand  wardens, 

.|      Past  deputy  grand  masters, 
a  Past  grand  mastei-s, 

S      Chief  magistrate  of  the  place, 
1  Two  large  lights,  borne  by  two 
C  masters  of  lodges, 

^  Grand  Wardens, 

One  great  light,  borne  by  a  master  of 
a  lodge. 
Deputy  grand  masters. 
Master  of  the  oldest  lodge,  bearing  the 

book  of  constitutions. 
Grand  deacons,  with  black  rods,  pla- 
ced five  feet  apart, 
Grand  Master, 
Grand  sword  bearer,  with  a  drawn 
sword. 
Two  stewards^  with  white  rods, 
Gentlemen  who  choosy  to  join  the 
procession  follow. 

NoTB. — When  two  or  more  lodges 
walk  in  procession,  they  form  as 
above,  either  in  one  body,  or  in  sepa^ 

>  Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


202 


KASONIC. 


rate  lodges  ;  if  separately,  the  youn- 
ger lodge  precedes  the  elder  The 
cushion,  on  which  the  Holy  Bible  is 
carried,  is  covered  with  crimson  satin, 
or  velvet.  Marshals  are  to  walk  on 
the  left  of  the  procession.  All  offi- 
cers of  lodges,  in  processions,  should 
wear  the  badges  of  their  office^ 

ORDER  OP  PROCESSION  AT  A  FUNE- 
RAL, OR  ON  ANY  COMMON  OCCA- 
SION. 

Tyler,  with  a  drawn  sword, 
J-tewards,  with  white  rods, 
Musicians,    if   brethren :    otherwise 
they  form  on  the  right  and  left 
of  the  procession,  or  pre- 
cede the  tyler, 
^      Entered  Apprentices^ 
^  Fellow  Crafts, 

^  Master  Masoirs, 

S  Deacons, 

Secretary  and  Treasurer, 
Seuior  and  Junior  Warden, 
Past  Masters^ 
The  Holy  Bible,  square,  and  compass, 
carried  by  the  oldest  member  of 
the  lodge  not  in  office,  ac- 
companied with  the 
chaplain. 
Master. 
Clergy. 
Note. — At   funerals,  the  cushion 
on  which  is  carried  the  Holy  Bible, 
should  be  covered  with  black  crape, 
or  silk  ;  a  black  knot  should  be  pla- 
ced on  the  hilt  of  the  tyler's  sworcf,  at 
the  end  of  each  steward's  rod,  and  on 
the  musical  instruments.     The  body 
follows  next  in  order,  to  the  clergy, 
with  the    insignia,  and  two  swords 
crossed  on  the  coffin. 


GENERAL    REMARKS   ON    TttE   EXCEL- 
LENCE  OF  MASONRY. 

Masonry  is  an  art  useful  and  ex- 
tensive. In"  every  art  there  is  a  mys- 
tery, which  requires  a  progress  of 
study  and  application  to  arrive  at  any 
degree  of  perfection.  Withoiit  much 
Instruction,   and   more  exercise,  no 


man  can  beskilfol  in  any  art ;  in  like 
maimer,  without  an  assiduous  applica- 
tion to  the  various  sabjects  treated  in 
the  different  lectures  of  Masonry,  no 
person  can  be  sufficiently  acquainted 
with  its  true  value. 

From  this  remark  it  must  not  be 
inferred,  that  persons  who  labour  un- 
der the  disadvantage  of  a  confined  ed- 
ucation, or  whose  sphere  of  life  re- 
quires assiduous  attention  to  business 
or  useful  employment,  are  to  be  dis- 
couraged in  their  endeavours  to  gain  a 
knowledge  of  Masonry.  To  qualify 
an  individual  to  enjoy  the  benefits  of 
the  society  at  targe,  or  to  partake  of 
its  privileges,  it  is  not  absolutely  ne- 
cessary tlwt  be  should  be  acqmuiited 
with  all  the  intricate  parts  of  the  sci- 
ence. These  are  only  intended  for 
persons  who  may  have  leisure  and  op- 
portunity to  indulge  such  pursuits. 

Som#  may  be  more  able  than  oth- 
ers, some  more  eminent,  some  more 
useful,  but  all,  in  their  different 
spheres,  may  prove  advantageous  to 
the  community  $  and  our  necessities, 
as  well  as  our  consciences,  bind  us  to 
love  one  another.  .  It  must  be  admit- 
ted, that  those  who  accept  offices  and 
exercise  authority  in  the  lodge,  oogkt 
to  be  men  of  prudence  and  address, 
enjoying  all  the  advantages  of  a  well- 
cultivated  mind,  and  retentive  memo- 
ry. All  men  are  not  blessed  with  the 
same  powers  and  talents;  all  men, 
•therefore,  are  not  equally  qualified  to 
govern.  He  who  wishes  to  teach, 
must  submit  to  learn ;  and  no  one  is 
qualified  to  support  the  higher  offices 
o(  the  lodge,  who  has  not  previously 
discharged  the  duties  of  (hosei  whicm 
are  subordinate.  Experience  is  the 
best  preceptor.  AH  men  may  rise  bj 
gradation,  and  merit  and  industry  are 
the  first  steps  to  preferment. 

TUB   OOviRNMBNT    OF  THE  FEATXE- 
HITT. 

The  mode  of  govemmeot  observed 
by  the  fraternity  will  give  the  best 
idea  of  the  nature  and  design  of  tfce 
Masonic  system. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MA80IIIC. 


203 


Three  classes  are  estiMtlied  among 
Masons,  under  different  appellations. 
The  privil^es  of  each  class  are  dis- 
tinct, and  particular  means  adopted  to 
presenre  those  privileges  to  the  iust 
and  meritorious.  Honour  and  probity 
are  recommendations  to  the  first  class  ^ 
in  which  the  practice  of  virtue  is  en- 
forced, and  the  duties  of  morality  are 
inculcated,  while  the  mind  is  prepar* 
ed  for  a  regular  progress  in  the  princi- 
ples of  knowledge  and  philosophy. — 
Diligence,  assiduity,  and  application, 
are  qualifications  for  the  second  class  ; 
in  which  is  given  an  accurate  elucida- 
tion of  science,  both  in  theory  and 
practice.  Here  human  reason  is  cul- 
tivated by  a  due  exertion  of  the  intel- 
lectual powers  and  fiiUAilties ;  nice  and 
dtfficuit  theories  are  explained;  new 
discoveries  are  produced,  and  those  al- 
ready known  are  beautifully  embel- 
lished. The  third  class  is  r^tricted 
to  a  selected  lew,  whom  truth  and 
fidelity  have  distinguished,  whom 
years  and  experience  have  improved^ 
ad  whom  merit  and  abilities  have 
entitled  to  preferment.  With  them 
^  ancient  landmarks  of  the  order  are 
preserved ;  and  from  them  we  learn 
the  necessary  instructive  lessons, 
which  dignify  the  art,  and  qualify  its 
professors  to  illustrate  its  excellence 
and  utility. 

This  is  the  established  plan  of  the 
Masonic  system.  By  this  Judicious 
arrangement,  true  friendship  is  culti- 
vated among  different  ranki  of  men, 
hospitality  promoted,  industry  reward- 
edy  and  ingenuity  encouraged. 


THS   CXBEMONY    OP    OPKNINO  ^D 
CLOSING   A   LOnOK. 

In  all  regular  assemblies  of  men, 
who  are  convened  for  wise  and  useful 
purposes,  the  commencement  and  con- 
clusion of  business  is  accompanied 
with  some  form.  In  every  country  of 
the  world  the  practice  prevails,  and  is 
deemed  essential  From  the  most  re- 
mote periods  of  antiquity  it  i$  traced, 


and  the  refined  improvements  of  mod- 
em times  have  not  abolished  iL 

Ceremonies  simply  considered,  are 
little  more  than  visionary  delusions ; 
but  their  effects  are  sometimes  import 
tant  When  they  impress  awe  and 
reverence  on  the  mind,  and  attract  the 
attention  to  solemn  rites  by  external 
forms,  they  are  interesting  objects^ 
These  purposes  are  effected,  when  ju- 
dicious ceremonies  are  regularly  con- 
ducted and  properly  arranged.  On 
this  ground  they  have  received  the 
sanction  of  the  wisest  men  in  all  ages, 
and  consequently  could  not  escape  the 
notice  of  Masons.  To  begin  well,  is 
the  most  likely  means  to  end  well ; 
and  it  is  justly  remarked,  that  where 
order  and  method  are  neglected  at  the 
beginning,  they  will  seldom  be  foundi. 
to  take  place  at  the  end. 

The  ceremony  of  opening  and 
closing  the  lodge  with  soiemoity  and 
decorum,  is  therefore  uni^^ersally  a- 
dopted  among  Masons*;  and  though 
the  mode  in  some  meetings  may  vary, 
knd  in  every  degree  must  vaiy,  still  an 
uniformity  in  the  general  practice  pre- 
vails in  the  lodges ;  and  the  variation 
(if  any  Vis  solely  occasioned  by  a 
want  oi  method,  which  a  little  appli-* 
cation  will  easily  remove. 

To  conduct  this  ceremony  with  pro- 
priety, ought  to  be  the  peculiar  study 
of  every  Mason ;  especially  of  those 
who  have  the  honour  to  rule  in  our 
assemblies.  To  persons  who  are  thus 
dignified,  every  eye  is  directed  for  re- 
gularity of  conduct  and  behaviour; 
and  by  their  example,  other  brethren, 
less  informed,  are  naturally  expected 
to  derive  instruction. 

From  a  share  in  this  ceremony  no 
Mason  is  exempted ;  it  is  a  general 
concern,  in  which  all  must  assist. 
This  is  the  first  request  of  the  master, 
and  the  prelude  to  business.  No 
sooner  has  it  been  signified,  than  eve- 
1^  officer  repairs  to  his  station,  and 
the  brethren  rank  according  to  their 
degrees.  The  intent  of  the  meeting 
becomes  the  object  of  attention,  and 
the  mind  id  insensibly  drawn  from  the 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


ji()4  MASONIC 

hidncrimiiiate  subjects  of  conversa- 
tion^ which  are  apt  to  intrude  on  our 
less  ferious  moments. 


*rftl    naST    AND    LAST    CABS    09    A 
MASOir. 

Our  first  care  is  directed  to  the  ex- 
ternal avenues  of  the  lodge,  and  the 
proper  officers,  whose  province  it  is  to 
<Hscnarge  that  duty,  execute  the  trust 
with  fidelity.  By  certain  mystic 
forms,  of  no  recent  date,  it  is  intima- 
ted that  we  may  safely  proceed.  To 
detect  impostors  among  ourselves,  an 
adherence  to  order  in  the  character  of 
Masons  ensues,  and  the  lodge  b  open- 
ed or  closed  in  solemn  form. 

At  opening  the  lodge,  two  purposes 
are  effected:  the  master  is  reminded 
of  the  dignity  of  his  character,  and 
the  brethren  of  the  homage  and  vene- 
ration due  from  them  in  their  sundry 
stations.  These  are  not  the  only  ad- 
vantages resulting  from  a  due  observ- 
ance of  the  ceremony ;  a  reverential 
awe  for  the  Deity  b  inculcated,  and 
the  eye  fixed  on  that  object  from 
whose  radiant  beams  light  only  can 
be  derived.  Hence  in  thb  ceremony 
we  are  taught  to  adore  God,  and  sup- 
plicate his  protection  on  our  well- 
meant  endeavours.  The  master  as- 
sumes his  government  in  due  form, 
and  under  him  his  wardens ;  who  ac- 
cept their  trust,  after  the  customary 
salutations.  Then  the  brethren,  with 
one  accord,  unite  in  duty  and  respect, 
and  the  ceremony  concludes. 

After  closing  tlie  lodge,  a  similar  form 
takes  place.  Here  the  less  important 
duties  of  the  order  are  not  passed  over 
unobserved.  The  necessary  degree 
of  subordination  which  takes  place  in 
the  ^vernment  of  the  lodge  is  pecu- 
liarly marked,  while  the  proper  trib- 
ute of  gratitude  b  ofiered  up  to  the 
beneficent  Author  of  life,  whose  bless- 
in?  b  invoked  and  extended  to  the 
whole  fraternity.  Each  brother  then 
faithfully  locks  up  tUe  treasure  which 
he  has  acquired,  in  his  own  repository  5 
and,  *pl«ja»ed  wi&  his  reward,  retires,  || 


to  enjoy,  and  disseminate  among  th^ 
private  circle  of  his  friends,  the  fruits 
of  his  labour  and  industry  in  the  lodge. 
These  are  faint  outlines  of  a  cer« 
emony  which  universatty  prevail* 
among  Masons,  and  distingunhes  aB 
their  meetings. 


A  PRATEB  SUITABLS   TO  BK  USSD  AT 
OPBJiINO'  A   LODOK. 

Most  holy,  most  glorious,  and  ever 
to  be  adored.  Lord,  God  Almighty} 
thou  great  Architect  of  the  Universe, 
thou  giver  of  all  good  gif^s  and  graces^ 
who  hast  promised  thy  presence  where 
two  or  three  are  gathered  together  hi 
thy  name;  we  would  roost  humbly  be- 
seech thee,  to  bless  us  m  our  labcrami 
and  all  undertakings  that  are  agreeable 
to  thy  holy  will ;  and  to  grant  os  wis- 
dom and  strenrth,  that  we  mi^  ia  all 
things,  be  enabled  to  dbcharge  our  du- 
ty to  thee,  to  each  other,  and  to  the 
whole  human  family ;  and  that  all  our 
actions  may  tend  to  thy  elory,  and 
our  advanceHw^nt  In  knowledge,  and 
in  virtue.    So  mote  it  be. 


A  CRABOE  GIVEN  AT  THE  OPENINO  OF 
A  LODGE. 

The  ways  of  science  are  beautlfhL 
Knowledge  b  attained  by  degrees* 
Wisdom  dwells  with  contemj^ation. 
There  are  we  to  seek  her.  Though 
the  passage  be  difficult,  the  farther  we 
proceed,  tlie  easier  it  will  become. 

If  we  are  united,  our  society  nrast 
fiouribh.  Let  all  things  give  place  t* 
peace  and  good  fellowship.  Uniting 
in  the  grand  design,  let  us  be  happv 
in  ourselves,  and  endeavour  to  coBtn* 
bute  to  the  happiness  of  others.  Let 
us  promote  the  useful  arts ;  and  bjr 
them  mark  our  superiority  and  distinc* 
tion.  Let  us  cultivate  the  moral  vir* 
tues ;  and  improve  in  all  that  b  good 
aud  amiable;  Let  the  genius  of  Mason* 
ry  preside  over  our  conduct ;  aiid  un- 
der its  sovereign  sway  let  us  act  with 
becoming  dignity.  Let  our  recres« 
tions  be  innocent,  and  pursued  wMi 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MtfONiq. 


2(ys 


tnoderatioD.  -Never  let  us  expose 
our  character  to  derision.  Thus  shall 
we  act  in  conformity  to  our  precepts, 
and  support  the  name  we  have  always 
borne  of  being  a  respectable,  a  regu- 
lar, and  an  uniform  society. 


k  CHASOB    AT  THE   CLOSING  OF  A 
LODOE. 

Brethren, 

You  are  now  to  quit  this  sacred  re- 
treat of  friendship  and  virtne.  to  mix 
9gsda  with  the  world.  Amidst  its 
concerns  and  employments,  forget  not 
the  duties  you  have  hftard  so  frequent- 
ly inculcated,  and  forcibly  recommend- 
ed in  this  lodge.  Be  dil^^ent,  prudent, 
temperate,  discreet.  R^ember,  that 
around  this  altar  you  have  promised  to 
befriend  and  relieve  every  brother, 
who  shall  need  your  assistance.  Re- 
member, that  you  have  promised  to 
lemind  him,  in  the  most  tender  man- 
ner, of  his  failings,  and  aid  his  refor* 
jnation.  Vinmcate  his  character, 
when  wrongfully  traduced,  and  when 
be  is  justly  reprehended,  suggest  in 
his  behalf  the  most  candid  and  favour- 
able circumstances.  Let  the  world 
observe  how  Masons  love  one  another. 

These  generous  principles  are  to 
extend  farther.  Every  human  being 
has  a  claim  upon  your  kind  offices. 
^  Do  good  unto  all.^'  Recommend  it 
more  ^  especially  to  the  household  of 
the  faithful.'' 

By  diligence  in  the  duties  of  your 
fespective  callings,  by  liberal  benevcH 
lence  and  diffusive  charity,  by  con- 
stancy and  fidelity  in  your  friendships, 
discover  the  benefiqfd  and  happy  ef- 
fects of  this  ancient' and  honourable 
institution.  "^ 

Let  it  not  be  supposed  that  yon  have 
here  ^laboured  in  vain,  and  spent 
your  strength  for  nought;  for  your 
work  is  with  the  Lord,  and  your  re^ 
compense  with  your  God." 

^  Finally,  brethren,  be  ye  all  of  one 
mind,  live  in  peace,  and  may  the  God 
of  love  and  peace  delight  to  di^ll 
wiUp  and  to  bless  yon1" 


A  piAvn  surrAtui  to  bb  utai>  At 

CLOSING  A   LODOK. 

May  the  blessing  of  Heaven  rest 
upon  us,  and  all  regular  Masons 
throughout  the  world ;  may  brotherly 
love  prevail;  may  we  be  cemented 
by  the  moral  and  social  virtues ;  and 
may  we  in  all  places,  so  perform  our 
work,  as  to  meet  the  approbation  of 
our  Great  Grand  Master  in  Heaven. 
So  mote  it  be. 


A  PKATEll  SUITABLK   TO  BE  VOtD  AT 
MAKIKO   A   MASON. 

Grand  Architect !  Behold  us  mh- 
ring  towards  thee.  And  let  thv  worls 
fill  us  with  rapture.  Heaven's  gates 
stand  open  to  welcome  those  who  are 
faithfol,  to  glory. 

Behold  our  friend,  and  soon  to  be 
our  brother !  May  his  confidence  iu 
thee  be  unshaken  f  May  love  burst  the 
Silence  around  him,  and  salute  him 
welcome  at  the  first  step.  May  ioy 
triumph  in  his  heart,  and  fViendship 
guide  him  as  be  ascends.  May  his 
countenance  be  cheered  by  the  light, 
and  confidence  increase  as  he  passes 
on.  May  he  behold  the  emblems  of 
his  jabour,  and  his  heart  reply  in  rea^ 
dy  obedience.  May  the  cheerfulness 
inspired  by  the  dawning  light,  attend 
him  through  the  day:  and  when  a 
long  day  is  complete,  may  he  find  his 
lot  with  the  faithful,  in  the  immortal 
glory  of  the  temple,  which  is  pure 
with  the  light  of  God,  and  eternal  in 
the  Heavens !     So  mote  it  be. 


CHARGB   AT   INITIATION    INTO    THB 
FIRST  OBGRBB. 

frhis  charge  is  originally  very  ancient. 
Verbal  alterations  have  been  made  by  a 
variety  of  authors,  to  suit  the  language  of 
modem  days ;  but  none  that  we  have  seen, 
so  n^ucb  to  the  purpose^  as  thts»  which  b 
copied  froip  Thomas  Smith  Webb.] 

Brother, 

As  you  are  now  introduced  into  the 
first  principles  of  Masonry,  I  congrat- 
ulate yon  on  being  accepted  into  this 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


^0$ 


HAIONIC* 


fmcteiit  and  hoDOuraUe  order;  an- 
cienty  as  having  subsisted  from  time 
immemorial;  and  honourable,  as  tend- 
ing, in  every  particular,  so  to  render 
all  men  who  will  be  conformable  to  its 
precepts.  No  institution  was  ever 
raised  on  a  better  principle,  or  more 
solid  foundation;  nor  were  ever  more 
excellent  rules  and  useful  maxims  laid 
down,  than  are  inculcated  in  the  sev- 
eral Masonic  lectures.  The  greatest 
and  best  of  men  in  all  ages  have  been 
encouragers  and  promoters  of  the  art, 
and  have  never  deemed  it  derogatory 
from  their  dignity,  to  level  tliemselves 
with*the  fraternity,  extend  their  priv- 
ileges, and  patronize  their  assemblies. 

There  are  three  great  duties,  which, 
as  a  Mason,  you  are  charged  to  incul- 
cate— to  God,  your  neighbour,  and 
yourself.  To  God,  in  never  mention- 
ing his  name,  but  witli  that  reveren- 
tial awe  which  is  due  from  a  creature 
to  his  Creator ;  to  implore  his  aid  in 
aU  your  laudable  undertakings,  and  to 
esteem  him  as  the  chief  good :  to  your 
neighbour,  in  acting  upon  the  square, 
and  doing  unto  hmi  as  you  wish  he 
should  do  unto  you :  and  to  yourself, 
in  avoiding  all  irregularity  and  intem- 
perance, which  may  impair  your  facul- 
ties, or  debase  the  dignity  of  your  pro- 
fession. A  zealous  attachment  to 
these  duties  will  insure  public  and  pri- 
vate esteem. 

In  the  state,  you  are  to  be  a  quiet 
and  peaceful  subject,  true  to  your  gov- 
ernment, and  just  to  your  country; 
you  are  not  to  countenance  disloyalty 
or  rebellion,  but  patiently  submit  to 
legal  authority,  and  conform  with 
cheerfulness  to  the  government  of  the 
country  in  which  you  live. 

In  your  outward  demeanour  be 
particularly  careful  to  avoid  censure 
or  reproach.  Let  not  interest,  fa- 
vour, or  prejudice^biasyour  integrity, 
or  influence  you  to  be  guilty  of  a  dis- 
honourable action.  Although  your, 
frequent  appearance  at  our  regular 
meetings  is  earnestly  solicited,  yet  it 
is  not  meant  that  Masonry  shpukl  in- 
terfere  with   your  necessary  voca- 


tions ;  for  these  are  on  no  accouat  fo 
be  n^ilected:  neither  are  you  to  suf- 
fer your  zeal  for  the  institution  to  lead 
you  into  argument  with  those  who, 
through  ignorance,  may  ridicule  it. — 
At  your  leisure  hours,  that  you  may- 
improve  in  Masonic  knowledge,  you 
are  to  converse  with  well  informed 
brethren,  who  will  be  always  as  ready 
to  give,  as  you  will  be  ready  to  re- 
ceive, instruction. 

Finally,  keep  sacred  and  inviolaUe 
the  mysteries  of  the  order,  as  these 
are  to  distinguish  you  from  the  rest  of 
the  community,  and  mark  your  conse- 
quence among  Masons.  If,  in  the  di* 
de  of  your  acquaintance,  you  find  a 
person  desirous  of  bfhig  initiated  into 
Masonry,  be  particularly  attentive  not 
to  recommend  him,  unless  you  are 
convinced  he  will  conform  to  our 
rules ;  that  the  honour,  glory  and  re^ 
nutation  of  the  institution  may  be 
firmly  established,  and  the  worid  at. 
large  convinced  of  its  good  efiects. 


ADDBESS  AT    THE   INITIATION    OF   A 
CLERGYMAN. 

You,  brother,  are  a  preacher  of  that 
religion,  which  inculcates  universal 
benevolence,  and  unbounded  charity. 
You  must,  therefore,  be  fond  of  the 
order,  and  zealous  for  the  interests  of 
Freemasonry,  which  in  the  strongest 
manner,  inculcates  the  same  charity 
and  benevdence,  and  which,  like  that 
religion,  encourages  every  moral  and 
social  virtue ;  which  introduces  peaca 
and  good'  will  among  mankind.  So 
that  whoever  is  warmed  with  the 
spirit  of  Christiantty,  must  esteem, 
must  love  Freemasonry. 

Here  virtue,  the  grand  object  io 
view,  luminous  as  the  meridian  sun, 
shines  refulgent  on  the  mind ;  enliv* 
ens  the  heart,  and  jvarms  with  synt- 
pathy  and  auction. 

Though  every  man,  who  carefully 
listens  to  the  dictates  of  reason,  may 
arrive  at  a  clear  persuasion  of  tkie 
baauty  and  necessity  of  virtue,  both 
private  and  public^  ^et  it  is  a  fiil|  re* 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MAsomc. 


2(7 


CDiniiiendation  of  a  society,  to  have 
these  pursuits  continually  in  view,  as 
the  sole'  objects  of  their  association : 
and  these  are  the  laudable  bonds 
which  unite  us  in  one  indissoluble 
fraternity. 

ADDaESS  AT    THE    IKITIATION  OF   A 
POREIGNKB. 

You,  brother,  the  native  and  sub- 
ject o(  another  nation,  by  entering  in- 
to our  order,  have  connected  yourself, 
by  sacred  aind  affectionate  ties,  with 
thousands  of  Masons  in  this  and  other 
countries.  Ever  recollect,  that  the 
order  you  have  entered  into,  bids  you 
always  to  look  upon  the  world  as  one 
great  republic,  of  which  every  nation 
is  a  family,  and  every  particular  per- 
son  a  child.  When,  therefore,  you 
return  and  settle  in  your  own  country, 
take  care  that  the  ^ragrtss  of  friend- 
ship be  not  confined  to  the  narrow 
circle  of  national  connections,  or  par- 
ticular religions ;  but  let  it  be  univer- 
sal, and  extend  to  every  branch  of  the 
human  race«  At  the  same  time  re- 
member,  that  besides  the  common 
ties  of  humanity,  you  have  at  this 
time  entered  into  obligations,  which 
engage  you  to  kind  and  friendly  ac- 
tions to  your  brother  Masons,  of  what- 
ever station,  country,  or  religion. 


AODRSSS   AT    THE   INITIATION    VT  A 
90LDISE. 

OcK  institution  breathes  a  spirit  of 
general  philanthropy.  Its  benefits, 
considered  in  a  social  view,  are  exten- 
sive. It  unites  all  mankind.  It  in 
every  nation  opens  an  asylum  to  vir- 
tue in  distress,  and  grants  hospitality 
to  the  necessitous  and  unfortunate.-^ 
The  sublime  principles  of  universal 
goodness,  and  love  to  all  mankind, 
winch  are  essential  to  it,  cannot  be 
lost  in  national  distinctions,  prejudi- 
ces, and  aniiaosities'.  The  rage  of 
contest  it  has  abated,  and  substituted 
in  its  stead  the  milder  emotions  of  hu- 
aumity.    It  has  even  taught  the  pride 


of  victory  to  give  way  to  the  dictatct 
of  an  honourable  connection. 

Should  yotnr  country  demand  yoor 
services  in  foreign  wars,  and  captivity 
should  be  your  portion,  may  you  find 
affectionate  brethren,  where  others 
would  only  find  enemies. 

In  whatever  nation  you  travel, 
when  you  meet  a  Mason,  you  will  find 
a  brother,  and  a  friend,  who  will  do 
all  in  his  power  to  serve  you;  and 
who  will  relieve  yon,  should  you  be 
poor  or  in  distress,  to  the  utmost  of 
nis  ability,  and  with  ready  cheerful- 
ness. 

[Having  gone  through  witli  a  compfliMli- 
um  of  the  coastitutioiisi  ntlef ,  and  regala-> 
tions  of  our  order  in  the  three  fint  de- 
mes,  together  with  various  prayert,  or> 
ders  of  procestioui  forms,  charges,  and 
addresses,  suitable  to  be  used  on  diflTerent 
occasions ;  it  is  our  design,  in  the  neit 
Bumber»  to  enter  upon  the  appropriate 
Masonic  lectures.] 


MASOmC   CHARACTER  OF   WASH- 
INGTON. 

By  the  M.  W.  O.  M.  Bigelow,  of  Massa- 
chusetts. 
Having  already  contemplated  such 
a  variety  of  distinguishing  features  in 
this  gi:eat  and  amiable  character,  does 
it  still  admit  of  addition  ?  Is  there 
room  in  the  portrait  for  another  trac^ 
of  the  faithful  pencil,  that  will  in- 
crease its  beauty  ?  Yes,  my  brethren, 
to  us  another  and  no  less  interesting 
view  remains.  Animated  with  a  gen- 
erous philanthropy,  our  deceased  bro- 
ther early  sought  admission  into  our 
ancient  and  honourable  fraternity,  at 
once  to  enable  him  to  cherish  with  ad- 
vantage this  heavenly  principle,  and 
enlarge  the  sphere  of  its  operation. 
He  cultivated  our  art  with  sedulous 
attention,  and  never  lost  an  opportu- 
nity of  advancing  the  interest,  or  pro- 
moting the  hommr  of  the  craf^. — 
While  commander  in  chief  of  the 
American  revolutionary  army,  he 
epdhtenanced  the  establishment,  and 
encounlged  the  labours  of  a  travelling 
lodge  among  the  ipilitary.  He  wi^ly 
considered  it  as  a  school  of  urbanity, 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


^08 


MAMMiC. 


wtH  caleulal«d  16  4ii»tmu^t  thoie 
mild  virtues  of  the  heart,  so  oma^ 
Ment^  to  the  honaa  character,  and 
to  peculiarly  useful  to  correct  the  fero- 
city of  soldiers,  and  deviate  the  mise- 
ries of  war*  The  cares  of  his  high 
office  engrossed  too  much  of  his  time 
to  admit  of  his  engaging  in  th^  dirties 
of  the  chair ;  yet  he  found  frequent 
opportunities  to  risit  the  lodge,  and 
thought  it  oo  derogation  from  his  dig- 
nity there  to  stand  on  a  level  with  the 
brethren.  True  to  our  principles  on 
all  occasions,  an  incident  once  occur- 
red which  enabled  him  to  display 
their  influence  ib  his  foes.  A  body  of 
American  troops,  in  some  successful 
rencounter  with  the  enemy,  possessed 
themselves,  among  other  booty,  of  the 
jewels  and  furniture  of  a  British  trav- 
elling lodge  of  Masons.  This  proper- 
ty was  directed  by  the  commander  in 
chief  to  be  returned,  under  a  flag  of 
truce,  to  its  foraiar  proprietors,  ac- 
companied with  a  message,  purport- 
ing tliat  the  Americans  did  not  make 
war  upon  institutions  of  benevolence. 
Of  bis  attachment  to  our  order  in 
''general,  you,  my  reapecied  brethren 
of  the  most  worshipful  grand  lodge  of 
this  commonwealth,  have  had  person- 
al knowledge*  His  answers  to  your 
repeated  acklreases,  breathe  through- 
out the  spirit  of  brotherly  love  ;  and 
his  afiectionate  return  of  thanks  for 
the  book  of  constitutions  which  you 
presented  him,  and  for  the  honour,  as 
he  was  pleased  to  consider  it,  which 
you  did  him  b  the  dedication,  must  be 
evidence  highly  satisfactory  of  the  re- 
spectful estimation  in  which  he  hdd 
you.  The  mformation  received  from 
our  brethren,  who  bad  the  happiness 
to  be  members  of  the  lodge  over 
which  he  presided  many  years,  and  of 
which  he  died  the  master,  furnishes 
abundant  proof  of  bis  persevering  aeal 
for  the  prosperity  of  the  institution. 
Constant  and  punctual  in  his  iittend- 
ance,  scrupulous  in  his  observance  of 
the  regulations  of  the  lodge,  and  soli- 
citous at  all  times  to  communicate 
light  and  instruction,  he  discharged 


the  duties  of  the  ctuir  With  I 
dignity  and  intelligence,  in  all  the 
mysteries  of  our  art.  Nothing  can 
more  highly  conduce  to  the  prospeiw 
ity  and  honor  of  Masonry^  than  a  soe^^ 
cessful  imitation  of  his  bright  ema^ 
pies.  It  cannot  fail  of  its  ^ect  upon 
our  brethren  in  its  immediate  neigh- 
bourhood in  the  south  ;  they  will 
beautify  their  column.  And  shall  we 
be  outdone  in  aeal  ?  Placed  geogra^ 
phically  in  the  east,  in  a  quarter  of 
the  Union  from  which  the  nation  has 
been  accustomed  to  learn  wisdom,  it 
should  be  our  peculiar  care  to  dif^ 
fuse  l^t  throughout  the  temple  of 
Masonry.  As  it  is  known  that  we 
shared  largely  in  the  esteem  and  af- 
fection, of  our  deceased  brother,  it  is 
easy  to  perceive  that  our  good  conduct 
will  itself  be  an  encomium  on  his 
memory.  We  see  before  us,  among 
the  sad  emblems  of  mortality,  not  on- 
ly the  sword  which  in  this  neighboor- 
hood  he  drew  in  defence  of  hb  coun- 
try, but  also  the  very  attire  which  he 
has  ofiten  worn  as  a  Mason.  How  de- 
voutly is  it  to  be  w'ished,  that  these 
striking  memorials  may  stimulate  us 
to  a  noble  emulation ;  that,  like  the 
mantle  of  Elijah,  they  may  inspire  as 
with  an  unalterable  attadiment  to  vir^ 
tue  and  benevolence  !  This  day  wit^ 
nesses  to  the  world  in  what  venera- 
tion we  hold  the  memory  of  departed 
greatness  ;  let  not  the  sdenmity  be 
without  Its  appropriate  efleet  upon 
ourselves.  While  with  funeral  pomp 
and  Masonic  honours,  we  celebrate 
the  obsequies  of  our  deceased  bfotber, 
while  we  bend  with  anguish  over  the 
urn  which  contains  a  part  of  what 
was  jpaortal  in  him,*  kt  us  like  hbii 
remember,  that  we  are  animated  with 
a  heavenly  flame,  wiii<^  the  chill 
damps  of  death  cannot  extiaguisli ; 
like  him  resolve  to  square  our  actions 
by  the  rule  of  rectitude,  persevere  in 
the  line  of  our  duty,  and  restrain  our 
passions  within  th^  compass  of  prft- 

*A  lock  of  General  Washington's  hair 
was  deposHed  In  the  urn  borne  in  Ma- 
sonic fuersYproeaiiion  on  this  occsaioa* 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


HiSONlC. 


fm^ 


pdiCy,  knowing  dmt  die  aU-feeing  ^e 
^C  our  Supreme  Grand  Master  above, 
^Kntinuatly  observes  us:  that  when 
we  shall  have  perfonned  the  task  as- 
signed us  here,  we  may  like  him  be 
called  ftofn  our  work  to  those  i^esh- 
ments  wt^ch  alone  can  satisfy  oar  im- 
mortal desires :  that  when  we  put  off 
thb  earthly  clothings  we  may  be  ar- 
rayed with  the  garments  of  glory,  put 
oB  thejewels  of  %ht,aBd  shitte  forev- 
er in  the  iullliHM  aidi  above. 


POETICAL  ADimESS. 
BTanoTHia  AiroaEW  c.  iriTcasLL. 

Whpn  first  the  world  with  all  it«  woes 
begMD, 
Man  was  the  deadliest  foe  to  fellow-roan ; 
And  thus,  to  c^rly  days,  ere  laws  had  force 
Toward  the  virtuous,  or  direct  their  course, 
Sec^ties  were  forui'd ;  their  ead  and  aim^ 
To  shelter  weakness,  and  aspire  to  fame  ; 
And  in  the  highest  i*ank,  exalted  see 
Immortal  stands  our  tiiue-crown'd  Masonry 
Th  this  wc  celebrate,  and  hail  the  day 
Which  gave  new  life  to  its  expiring  my, 
Which  Ugfits  ourwortdy  as  we  its  brethren 

prove. 
To  bonds  of  friendsfaip,  unity,  and  love. 
Built  on  religion,  and  on  truths  sublime, 
Ov  fi^hric  ftandsy  the  favouHte  child  of 

time: 
its  corner-stone  and  arch  still  perfect  stand, 
Nurs'd  by  hu  care  and  foster'd  by  his  hand ; 
And  thoagb  from  clime  to  clime  her'chil- 

"  drea  ran^y 
Tkey   ineet  thi3r  fiibrick  still  without  a 

change. 
The  Ufoley  compass,  and  the  square  proclaim 
Beiigion,  order,  equity  her  aim, 
And  that  her  laws  such  principles  impart, 
As  mend  the  morals  and  improve  the  heart. 
Yet  still  to  keep  the  sacred  spot  secure 
From  intemiptton  and  from  steps  impure, 
Mjfderwtu  nte$    and  toUmn  signs  were 

pv'o, 
Svmbeis^  earthly  love  inspir'dby  Heav'n ; 
These,  (ike  the  nighty  and  never-ending 

time, 
Live  in  obscurity,  yet  live  sublime  : 
Searched  for  by  alh  yet  still  by  all  uofound, 
(Like  diamonds,  buried  in  the  deepest 

ground) 
Except  bv  Masons,  whose  unfilmed  eyes, 
Enp^ore  the  azure  of  the  vaulted  ^kies*; 
And  as  they  worship,  ra3rBteries  they  feel, 
Bevere  those  rites  they  dare  not  to  reveal. 
T<.t9  notwithstanding  to  the  world  we 

prove 
Our  truth,  our  secrecy,  and  mutaal  loiw, 


Still  there  are  lome  in  igBormicef  maintaiii 
Our  aims  are  vicious,  and  our  ends  are 

gam; 
Heavens !  could  such  vUe  injustice  stain 

the  shrine, 
Which,  God4ike,  beams  with  moral  tnitiis 

divloe ! 
So  just,  so  virtuous,  that  m  Heaven's  owa 

sphere, 
Angels  tJiemsetves  might  Masonize  it  theie. 
Behold !  those  climes  where  superstition 

reigns, 
Theh*  children  bound  in  ignorance   and 

chains ; 
How  stands  our  order  there  ?— Abns'd,  de- 

fac'df 
Robb'd  of  lU  honours,  slight^  and  dis- 

grac'd. 
Who  dares  to  be  an  honest  Mason  there. 
Is  doomed   a  duitgton's  dreary  gloom  to 

sbar^. 
To  waste  his  life  In  unavailing  pray'rs, 
In  eqdiess  hopes,  and  agonizing  tears : 
For  superHitim,  where  she  reigns,  controls 
The  noblest  impulie  of  the  noblest  souls ; 
Hid  in  her  cowl,  and  nurs'd  in  monkish 

gloom, 
She  meditates  on  mis'ry  and  the  tomb. 
The  face  of  nature,  blooming  in  its  pride  i 
Is  lost,  is  dead,  where  faaatics  preside  ; 
For  superstUion  teaches  them  to  fesu- 
That  which  their  better  reason  would  ra* 

vere, 
To  hold  our  order  as  an  impious  league. 
Our  mysteries — mischief ;  and  our  rite^— 

intrigues 
Bids  them  believe  what  reason  would  de- 

.   ride, 
That  we  with  fiends  and  demons  are  allied ; 
And  that  with  magic  word,  or  mystic  spell, 
We  can  upraise  the  ministers  of  hell. 
Unhappy   climes !    which  thus  in  fettei^ 

bind 
The  best,  the  noblest  priv'lege  of  the  mind  ; 
And  by  enslaving  reason,  thus  debase 
Man's  boldest  energies,  and  blast  his  race ! 
Yet  bless'd  !  oh  doubly  bless'd,  this  happy 

land! 
Bless'd  by  that  freedom  which  our  fathers 

plann'd, 
That  Tickle  btrthright  each   has  sworn  tb 

guard. 
Strain  next  his  heart,  and  wear  upon  his 

sword ; 
Tb  here,  no  monkish  fears  appal  the  heart ; 
Reason  our  ^lide,  uhilosophy  our  chart: 
*'ris  here,   religion  feels  no  de8|)ot's  rod, 
And  i^ftn'  in  all  bis  strength,   adores  his 

God: 
Bound  by  no  dogmas,  here  religion  reigns, 
Not  dress'd   with  gewgaws  or  defil'd  by 

chains } 
Bound  by  no  form,  each  bends  before  tJie 

throne, 
And  worships  Heaves  on  principles  his 

own.  , ,  . 

[•  Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


2lt 


MASONIC. 


How  stands  odr  order  here  ?--Oii  virtue's 

base; 
Which  time  must  strengthen  and  can  ne'er 

deface. 
On  this  bless'd  clime,  where  heaven-bom 

freedom  stood) 
Burst  slav'ry's  chains  and  dash'd  the  des- 
pot's rod. 
(Immortal  Washingtoh  !  her  chosen  son> 
To  gild  those  honours  which   his  valour 

won ',) 
On  this  blessM  clime  auspicious  fates  pre- 
side. 
To  guard   our  temple,   and  its   votaries 

guide; 
For  he,  the  hero  Washington,  has  borne, 
Our  sacred  secret,  and  onr  honours  worn  ; 
And  now  translated  to  celestial  skies, 
He  reigns  the  guardian  of  oui  mysteries. 
Tet  not  alone  to  mysteries  allied^ 
The  Mason  boasts  a  Uditmatuc  guide. 
His  thidtl  and  buckler  in  the  hour  of  wo. 
Which  oft  hath  sav'd  him  from  th'  infuriate 

foe  ; 
And  when  no  human  skill  his  life  could 

save. 
Hath  snateh'd  him  from  the  margin  of  the 

grave ; 
For  lo  !  the  traveller,  by  land  or  tide. 
Or  borne  by  ^'skarfcd  bark"  o'er  waters 

wide, 
Who,  while  hb  dial  marks  the  hours  which 

fly. 
Now  builds  on  hope,  or  dreads  his  destiny, 
If  bv  a  savage  corsair  he  be  met* 
And  death  must  be  the  forfeit  of  defeat, 
How  droops  his  heart  as  m^m'rv  ever  true, 
Paints  ev'iy  cherish'd  object  to  his  view, 
Of  sister,  parents,  children,  wife  foriom, 
Who  shall    his  loss  deplore— in  anguish 

mourn  ; 
Or  if  on  Afric's  dry  and  barren  sand, 
Or  in  the  north,  where  ice  envelops  landy 
If  by  adventure,  or  misfortune  thrown, 
Where  savage  plunder  marks  him  for  her 

own, 
Chiird  is  his  hear^  for  succonr  is  afar — 
And  blood,  and  murder,  mark  this  desp'rate 

war. 
Suppose  him  here  !  by  savage  faryiress'd, 
The  victor's  steel  now  pointed  at  his  oreast, 
Or  high  uprais'd,  is  brandish'd  o'er  his  head, 
Which  if  it  fall,  he  slumbers  with  the  dead ; 
One  hope  yet  lives:  he  lifts  hb  eyes  to 

Heaven, 
And  gives  that  sign  by  none  but  Masons 

giv'n ; 
As  quick  as  lightning  fklb  the  conq'ror's 

sword. 
Palsied  his  arm,  and  easping  for  the  word  ; 
An  instant's  pause-^e  folds  him  in   his 

arms, 
Guards  him  from  01,  and  shelters  him  from 

harms. 
To  Heaveirs  high  throne  the  wand'rer's 

pray'rs  ascend, 


That  in  his  deadliest  foe  he  met  a  friend. 
Are  such  thy  pow'rs,  blest  Masoorv  divin^^^ 
Bless'd  be  thine  altars,  cherish'd  be  tUl^' 

shrine  ; 
And  may  his  hand,  who  Heaven's  higb 

tliunders  huri'd, 
The  Mighty  MoMa^MoMon  of  the  W^M, 
Protect  thy  TmpU,  that  thy  deeds  maj 

rise, 
With  Virtue  crown'd,  immorUU  to  the  tkie*. 


THE  MASON'S  ADIEIU, 

Br  EBOTBSR  ROBBIIT  BUBM. 

Adieu,  a  heart-fond,  warn,  adieu, 
Te  brothers  of  the  mystic  tie ; 
Ye  favour'd  and  enlighten'd  fowy 
Companions  of  my  social  joy ; 
Thou^  1  to  foreign  lands  must  hie, 
Pursumg  fortune's  slippery  ba*  : 
With  melting  heart  and  bnoifii'  eye^ 
I'll  mind  you  still  when  far  awa*. 

Oft  have  I  met  your  social  band. 
To  spend  a  cheerful,  festive  night, 
Oft,  honour'd  with  supreme  command. 
Presiding  o'er  the  sons  of  light : 
And  by  that  hieroglvphic  bright. 
Which  none  but  crammen  ever  saw. 
Strong  mem'ry  on  my  heart  shnll  write, 
iThose  happy  scenes  when  far  awa'. 

May  freedom*  harmony  and  love. 
Cement  you  in  the  ^rand  design. 
Beneath  tb'  Omniscient  Eye  above^ 
The  giorions  Architect  divine : 
That  you  may  keep  th'  onerring  line* 
Still  guided  by  the  plummet's  Jaw, 
Till  order  bright  completely  shine. 
Shall  be  my  pray'r^when  far  awa'. 

And  ye,  farewell,  whose  merit  claims 
Justly  the  highest  badge  to  wear,  . 
May  Heaven  bless  vournoble  names» 
To  Masonry  and  fnendship  dear  : 
My  last  request  permit  me  here^- 
When  yeariy  ye 're  assembled  a', 
One  round,  I  ask  it  with  a  tear. 
To  himi  your  friend,  that's  far  «wa'.< 

And,  ye  kind-hearted  sbters,  fair, 

I  sing  farewell  to  all  your  charms, 

Th'  impression  of  jrour  pleasing  air, 

With  rapture  oft  my  bosom  warms. 

Alas !  the  social  winter's  night 

No  more  returns  while  breath  I  draw, 

'Till  sisters,  brothers,  all  unite. 

In  that  Grand  Lodge  that's  tar  awa'. 


WEAKNESS    OF   THE    OBJECTlONg 
AGAINST  MASONRY. 

The  following  elegant  extrac 
from  a  sermon  delivered  by  the 
Doct.  Turner.    It  completely  ex]j 
the  absurdity  and, weakness 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MASONIC^ 


^1} 


pbjections  usually  brou|;fat  against  our 
andeot  and  honourable  fraternity,  by 
the  prejuciiced  aud  ignorant  part  of 
ibe  commuuity,  who  'speak  evil  of 
those  tbjngs  which  they  know  not.' 

•^  Ma^ouryi  I  afiirm  to  be  a  m^'stic 
science,  wherein,  under  apt  figures, 
select  Dombers,  and  choice  emblems, 
solemn  afid  important  truths,  naturally 
teodliig  to  improve  the  understanding, 
to  oiend  tbe  heart,  and  to  bind  us 
more  closely  one  to  another,  are  most 
expressly  contained.  In  proportion 
as  tbe  wise,  the  learned,  and  the  good 
have  studied  it«  tbey  have  loved  it. — 
But  like  all  other  virtuous  characters, 
orthings,^  it  hath  met  with  persecu- 
.  tion.  Its  enemies  have  been  many  ; 
nor  have  its  friends  been  few.  Ma- 
tore  reflection  on  the  ^hara<fters  of  its 
adversaries,  in  a  great  measure,  de- 
stroys all  they  say«  For,  in  the  first 
pbee,  no  truly  sensibb  man  will  ever 
^leak  against  what  he  doth  not  un- 
dmtuid.  There  are  some  bigots  in 
thck  opinioas  against  it.  It  is,  cry 
tkey,  a  bad  thing,  an  unlawful  thing, 
a  siiiliil  tbing.  Why?  because  we 
detest  it,  and  abhor  it.  To  pity  such, 
if  no  laeao  part  of  Christian  love ; 
■ace,  I  am  persuaded,  that  even  in 
good  hearts,  the  first  emotion  respect- 
ing them,  were  those  of  scorn  and 
coptempt.  Of  what  use  is  it  to  reasoo 
villi  bigots,  whether  in  religion,  mor- 
als, or  peptics  ? 

*^  There  are  some  who  speak  against 
h,  more  from  the  vanity  of  saying 
somewhat  oa  the  point,  than  that  they 
caBmnge  a  sii^le  rational  objection. 
If  it  be  good,  say  they,  why  not  tell 
k  ?  But  we  apprehend,  continue  these 
wneacies,  tfaMere  is  nothing  in  it.  As 
for  words,  signs,  tokens,  all  stuff,  de- 
pend upon  it,  there  are  no  such  things, 
^w,  what  genuine  son  of  ancient 
Mamory  would  hold  converse  with 
sotfa  people?  Let  them  prattle  on ;  if 
it  pl^oes  any  ^ho  hear,  they  must  be 
as.  weak  as  themselves  j  and  it  never 

^  llie  weightiest  objection  is  yet  to 
mmi,  mx  will  I  flinch  from  it.  Many  R 


thinking,  serious,  and  judicious  per- 
sons, urge  thus  : — The  reasoifi  why  we 
are  enemies  to  Masonry  is,  the  effects, 
which,  from  close  obseivatioo,  we 
have  repeatedly  traced.  We  have 
seen  those,  who  call  themselves  warm, 
zealous  Masons,  most  regular  in  their 
attendance  on  lodges,  ready  to  go 
any  lengths,  both  as  to  distance  of 
place,  loss  of  time,  and  expenses,  im 
pursuit  of  Masonry,  who  never  ap- 
peared at  church,  and  frequently  left 
their  families  without  bread.  Others 
we  have  remarked,  apparently  brim- 
ful of  Masonry,  and  vastly  fond  of 
each  brother,  doubtless,  in  tbe  lodge, 
according  to  their  principles,  who  yet 
would  cheat,  deceive,  and  supplant 
those  very  brethren  in  trade,  and  the 
ordinary  transactions  of  society.  They 
would  (tefame  them, and  were  it  practi^ 
cable,  we  should  behold  them  attempt- 
ing to  take,  as  it  were,  the  very  bn^ 
out  of  their  mouths.  Instead  of  being 
friends  to  mankind,  or  one  another, 
they  are  like  wolves,  preying  with 
ferocity  on  whatever  comes  in  |henr 
way. 

^^  Jn  the  first  place,  the  abuse  of  a 
thing  is  no  valid  objection  to  its  inher- 
ent goodness.  How  many  call  them- 
selves Christians,  who  are  a  disgrace 
to  it,  yet  ultimately  hurt  not  the  gos- 
pel, but  themselves  ?  Besides,  man's 
worth  is  not  to  be  rated  firom  bis  own 
exaggerated  account  of  the  matter, 
but  from  what  he  actually,  uniformly, 
and  absolutely  is.  The  apostle  has 
told  us,  that  whosoever  provideth  not 
for  his  own,  is  an  infidel;  therefore 
we  conclude,  that  no  good  Mason  will 
ever  be  deficient  in  the  due  perfonn- 
ance  of  all  moral  and  relative  duties. 
If  a  man  is  negligent  in  religious 
points,  depend  on  it  he  is  good  iot  lit- 
tle in  the  lodge. 

•*  As  to  the  second  part  of  the  ob- 
jection, viz,  that  they  will  backbite 
and  injure  one  another,  it  is  too  tjrue. 
But  what  doas  it  prove?  simply  this^ 
that  in  the  best  institutions  upon  eyrth, 
worthless  characters  may  occasionally 
be  founds    In  th»  b^y  family  it9^f> 

Digitized  by  VjOOQiC 


tit 


MASONIC. 


consi^iBg  but  of  twelve,  one  was  a 
devil.  Did  that  hurt  the  inteffrity  of 
the  eleven  ?  far  from  k.  Why  lay 
the  faults  of  a  few  at  the  doors  o( 
large  respectable  bodies  of  men,  who 
by  assiduously  workiiig  at  the  craft, 
have  done  honour  to  human  nature  ? 
Where  the  heart  is  bad,  what  can  vou 
expect  from  the  tongue?  After  all,  is 
it  more  than  what  happens  in  the 
most  solemn  duties  of  religion  ?  Have 
there  not  been  wretches  who  could  go 
to  the  table  of  the  Lord,  and  the  very 
next  day  traduce  the  moral  character 
of  the  minister  from  whdse  hands  they 
received  the  holy  sacrament  ?  And  if 
that  was  not  making  it  to  themselves 
the  cup  of  devils,  I  know  not  what  the 
apostle  meant  when  he  made  use  of 
those  terms. 

"  Why  need  I  multiply  words  to  con- 
firm it  ?  Built  on  and  drawn  from  rev- 
elation, must  it  not  be  of  divine  origin- 
al ?  Adorned  by  the  beneficent  actions 
and  amiable  virtues  of  thousands,  the 
iirst  in  point  of  rank,  knowledge,  and 
moral  excellence,  of  every  language,  in 
every  age,  and  every  clime,  must  it 
not  possess  an.  inherent  worth  ?  Thou 
Heaven    descended   beam  of    light, 
beauty,  and  perfection  !    how  oft  hast 
thou  been  the  means  of  saving  life 
and   property;    reconciled  the  most 
jarring  interests,  and  converted  fier- 
cest foes  to  dearest  friends  !    On,  on 
then,  my  dear  brethren,  pursue  the 
great  lecture  with  alacrity  and  firm- 
ness, each  moving  on  the  square  of 
truth,  by  the  compass  of  God's  word, 
according  to  your  respective  stations, 
in  all  the  rules  of  symmetry,  order, 
and    proportion.     Nor   dread   when 
your  earthly  lodge  shall  be  dissolved  ; 
your  jewels  will  still  be  safe,  and  you 
shall  be  admitted  into  a  more  glorious 
lodge,  even  an  house  not  made  with 
hands,  eternal  in  the  Heavens  5  where 
angels  and  saints  shall  be  yow  fellow- 
erafts  and  companions ;  and  the  Su- 
preme Architect  01'  the  Universe  your 
ineiably  great  and   glorious  Grand 
Master — your  light — ^yonr  life— your 
joy-— yout  all ! 


ELEGANT  EXTRACT. 
The  following  extract  from  brother 
Elder  Osgood's  sermon,  delivered  at 
Sacket's  Harbour,  at  the  installatkm 
of  Athol  Lodgeyhas  been  inserted  id 
several  American  Gazettes,  and  has 
undoubtedly  been  perused  by  many 
of  our  readers.  All,  however,  who 
consider  its  merits,  mtist  be  pleased, 
by  having  it  recorded  in  the  Masonic 
Register,  where  it  can  be  preserved 
from  the  fate  which  generally  awaits 
publications  in  a  common  newspaper* 
It  contains  sentiments  highly  honour- 
able to  the  reverend  atithor,  and  to 
the  fraternity  in  general,  which  ought 
to  be  treasured  up  in  the  heart  of  eve- 
ry individual  member.  > 

EzKJtiEL  xliv.  6. 
And  the  Lord  said  unto  me,  Son  of  Mim, 
Mark  well !  And  behdid  with  th&ne  eyM, 
and  bear  with  thine  ^aiv,  all  that  I  say  un- 
to tbee  concermag  all  the  ordinances  of 
the  house  of  the  Lord)  and  all  tlie  la\VB 
thereof,  and  mark  well  the  entering  In  of 
the  bouse,  wHh  every  going  forth  of  tlie 
sanctuary. 

"  The  Masonic  Society  in  its  an- 
cient purity  resembled  the  building 
that  was  reared  by  its  art.  *  The 
stones  were  hewed  and  squared  in  the 
quarries,  the  timber  prepared  in  the 
forest  of  Lebanon,'  so  that  the  mate- 
•  rials,  when  they  were  collected,  were 
found  to  be  prepared  in  such  beautiful 
order  and  proportion,  that  it  came  to- 
gether without  the  sound  of  axe,  ham- 
mer, or  any  tool  of  iron ;  and  had 
more  the  resemblance  of  the  handy 
work  of  the  Supreme  Architect  c4^ 
universe,  than  that  of  humto  hands. 
Such  was  ancient  Freemasomy,  when 
none  were  admitted  to  participate  in 
its  sublime  mysteries  but  the  woiihy 
and  meritorious. 

"  To  *  mark  well '  the  entering  in 
of  the  house,  in  tc  Masonic  sense  is  to 
observe  well  the  institutions  of  Ma- 
sonry. 

"  In  the  temple  of  Solomon,  there 
were  guards  placed  at  the  different 
gates,  to  see  that  none  passed  without 
they  were  duly  prepared.  In  like 
manner,  those  who   are  placed    as 


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219 


guards  id  our  Masonic  temple,  are  to 
p«y  particular  attention  to  the  gene- 
ral character  of  those  who  present 
themselves  as  candidates  for  the  mys- 
leries  of  our  order* 

^  AmOi^  all  the  societies  formed  in 
tins  fall^  world,  there  is  but  one  that 
embraces  so  aobk'ah  object  as  the  in- 
ttitutkni  oi  Masoniy  f  and  that  is  mic- 

tlOlON. 

^  Three  great  duties  every  Mason 
Is  charged  to  incnkate ;  ^  to  God,  his 
neigbbonr,  and  himself.'  <  To  God, 
In  never  mentioning  hb  name,  but 
with  that  reverential  awe  which  is  due 
from  a  creature  to  his  Creator.'  *  To 
Us  neighbour,  in  acting  upon  the 
square.'  ^  To  himself,  in  avoiding 
all  'irregularity  and  intemperance, 
which  may  impiir  his  faculties,  or  de- 
base the  (i^nity  of  his  profession.'  it 
has  its  secrets  like  all  other  societies ; 
and  havii^  had  them  from  time  imme> 
inerial,  it  is  a  language  of  all  nations. 
Such  are  the  characteristics  and  prtn- 
-dplesthe  ancient  institution  of  Ma- 
sonry* etnbraced;  sod  such  only  now 
k  recognises  as  Inrethren. 

^  Do  we  see  a  man  possessed  of  a 
covetous  disposition,  ^nth  a  manifest 
desire  to  monopolize  all  to  himself, 
'mark  well'  the  entering  in  of  the 
house ;  admit  him  not,  he  will  aehher 
have  any  affection  for  the  general 
good,  or  unite  in  any  probable  means 
to  obtain  it ! 

^  Do  we  see  a  man  often  in  diffi- 
culty with'  his  neighbours,  and  is  al- 
ways first  in  his  own  cause,  and  right 
in  his  own  eyes,  *  mark  wdl,'  if  he  is 
adnutted  he  will  have  no  regard  for 
good  order  and  subordination  ! 

^  Do  we  see  a  man  spending  his 
time  idly,  intemperate  in  his  habhs, 
neglectful  of  his  family,  '  mark  well 
the  entering  in  of  the  house.'  He  is 
not  a  good  husband,  he  is  not  a  good 
citizen,  and  he  can  never  be  made  a 
good  Mason ! 

^  Do  we  see  a  man  addicted  to 
lewd  company,  or  hear  him  advocate 
the  principle,  '  mark  well'  the  seventh 
chapter  of  Proverbs ! 


^  Do  we  see  a  man  cniel  and  op- 
pressive, overreaching  his  neighbour. 
^  mark  well  the  entering  in  of  th% 
house  !'  If  be  is  admitted,  he  will 
have  no  affection  for  the  object ;  the 
widow  and  the  orphan  will  never 
havfr  the  tear  of  sorrow  wiped^jirtray 
with  such  a  hand ;  the  poor  and  pen- 
nyless  wiH  never  find  a  home  undier 
such  aroo£ 

^  Do  we  hear  a  man  often  speak- 
ing reproochfbUy  of  his  neighbour, 
trompethw  abroad  the  fiiultsof  otl^rs, 
<  mark  w&'^-a  brother's  character  is 
not  safe  on  his  tongue ! 

<'  Do  we  hear  a  man  speak  lightly 
of  religion,  and  deny  the  inspiration 
of  the  Scriptures,  smd  the  mediatioa 
of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  <  mark  well 
the  entering  in  of  the  house' — let  eve- 
ry gate  be  duly  guarded  ! 

"  Take  from  Mssonry  the  validity 
of  the  Bible,  that  great  Light,  and  to-> 
tal  darkness  will  ensue.  If  the  Scrip- 
tures are  not  what  they  are  said  to  be, 
the  unerring  word^  of  God,  what  an 
awfui  falsehood  they  are !  Moses,  the 
man  c^  God,  that  was  raised  up  to  de- 
liver Israel  from  the  land  of  £gypt, 
and  the  ^  house  of  bondi^,'  would 
then  deliberately  utter  fals^oods.  He 
tells  us  that  he  saw  the  '  burning 
bush'  at  Horeb,  and  that  the  Lord 
called  upon  him  out  of  the  midst  of 
the  bush,  <  and  said  unto  him,  Mo- 
ses, Moses  ! — And  he  said,  Here  am 
I.  And  he  said,  draw  not  nigh  hith- 
er ;  put  off"  thy  shoes  from  off*  thy 
feet,  for  the  place  whereon  thou  stand- 
est  is  holy  ground.'  'Moreover  be 
said,  I  am  the  God  of  thy  fathers,  the 
God  of  Abraham,  the  God  of  iMac, 
and  the  God  of  Jacob. '  '  And  Moses 
hid  his  face,  for  he  was  afraid  to  look 
upon  God.'     \ 

''  When  a  w^ll  instructed  Mason  is 
Bsked  what  ancient  production  of  his 
^jt  does  he  find  previous  to  the  erec- 
tion of  King  Soibmon's  temple,  how 
qmck  will  be  point  to  the  tabernacle 
in  the  wilderness,  and  say,  behold  a 
perfect  model  of  the  temple  of  Solo- 
mon ! 

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214 


majoNju 


^  If  the  uBhallowed  fool  of  the  De- 
ist presumes  to  step  upon  thy  pave- 
Jheiit,  spurn  him  from  thence,  for  he 
can  never  frame  to  pronounce  the 
shibboleth  of  Masonry ;  and  if  by  his 
duplicity  he  should  gain  admittance 
there,  and  should  dare  approach  the 
vail  of  our  sacred  tabernacle,  let  all 
the  guards  be  assembled,  and  spurn 
him  from  thence,  for  he  is  not  a  true 
descendant  of  any  of  the  twelve  tribes 
of  the  children  of  Israel. 

'^  The  introduction  of  such  stran- 
gers to  the  genuine  principles  of  Ma- 
sonry, is  talculated  to  make  confusion 
among  the  craft ;  they  are  not  fit  ma- 
terials for  the  Masonic  edifice ;  they 
are  neither  oblong  nor  square :  they 
will  answer  none  of  the  dimensions  or 
weight  of  Masonry :  neither  can  any 
of  the  working  tools  of  the  craft  be 
adjusted  upon  them. 

"  Weigh  iheni  in  the  balance,  they 
are  found  u'anting ;  Tekel  must  be 
wrote  upon  them. 

"  Do  we  put  upon  them  the  twenty- 
four  inch  guage,  there  is  no  division  to 
be  found,  no  part  for  God. 

^^  Bring  the  plumb-line  to  such  an 
one ;  he  neither  stands  upright  before 
God  or  man. 

"  Lay  upon  him  the  square  of  vir- 
tue, put  the  mallet  and  engraver's 
chissel  into  the  hand  of  the  most  skil- 
ful workijnan,  there  can  no  eppearaoce 
of  the  diamond  be  found. 

^  Lay  upon  him  the  level,  and  who 
will  be  willing  to  be  placed  upon  an 
equality  with  some  of  the  before-men- 
tioned characters  ? 

^<  Bring  him  upon  the  circle  of  be- 
nevolence, present  him  with  some  of 
our  precious  jewels ;  he  has  no  eyes 
to  see  them,  be  will  cautiously  avoid 
them. 

<<  Point  him  to  the  rounds  of  Jacob's 
ladder ;  he  cannot  climb  •them :  hea- 
ven-born charity  is  a  stranger  to  his 
bosom. 

Attempt  to  make  use  of  the  trowel, 
there  is  no  cement  of  brotherly  love 
and  afiection  in  him  :  such  materials 
are  totally  unfit  for  the  Masonic  ectt-  { 


fice,  and  ought  to  be   thrown  over 
among  the  rubbish. 

"  And  now,  brethren,  by  reason  of 
the  introduction  of  such  strangers 
among  the  workn^en,  our  ancient  and 
honourable  institution  is  brought  into 
disrefHite  among  the  pious  cmd  candid* 
Let  our  actions,*  and  our  morality^ 
therefore,  be  such  as  to  silence  the 
tongue  of  slander,  and  blunt  the  dart  oC 
envy. 

'^  Let  us,  my  iirethren.  In  viewing 
the  evils  tliat  have  come  on  Masonry^ 
erect  a  temple  of  reparation,  and  have 
it  situated  near  the  borders  of  the  wii- 
demess,  on  that  side  which  is  stretched 
oot  towards  the  regions  of  light :  and 
in  it  erect  an  altar  of  repentance,  of 
just  a  cube,  which  every  nation  knows 
to  be  a  figure  of  six  equal  sides ;  each 
side  is  three  feet  square ;  and  suspend 
it  three  feet  from  the  pavement,  ser 
that  the  top  of  the  altar  may  exactly 
answer  to  the  height  of  a  man,  so  that 
no  one  may  think  himself  above  or 
below  the  humble  exercise  of  repent- 
ance. And,  as  four  sides  of  the  altar 
will  be  perpendicular,  and  the  other 
two  in  a  horizontal  position,  the  four 
sides  will  face  the  four  caidinal  points: 
and  on  each  side,  we  will  have  an  iQr- 
scription,  in  large  capitab.  Qn  the 
east  side,  illumination  ;  and  on  tbe 
west,  HUMANITY ;  on  the  north,  reso- 
lution ;  and  on  the  south,  ^epen^ 
ENCE.  On  the  bottom  we  will  place 
a  stone,  with  this  inscription,  ^  Tbe 
stone  which  the  builders  rejected  » 
become  the  head  of  the  comer.'  And 
upon  the  top  we  will  have  inserted  in 
letters  of  gold,  no  deist  ok  stupid 

LIBERTINE   CAN   BE   A    MASON.    TheB 

we  will  write  upon  tbe  pavement^ 
^  whosoever  humbles  himself  shall  be 
exalted.'  We  will  then  sacrifice  upos 
this  altar,  our  pride  and  prejudice^ 
and  pusillanimity  and  rashness.  This 
temple  being  situated  due  east  and 
west,  we  will  pass  along  the  aisle  of 
reformation  to  the  east  gate  of  regen- 
eration, that  opens  into  tbe  regions  of 
day.  And  9^  the  opening  of  this  gate, 
W0  shaU  receive  a  pass-word  wiuch' 

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215 


irifi  be  this,  'The  Lord  our  Righte^ 
' '    At  the  same  time  we  shall 


receive  a  bn^astplate^  inserted  upon  it 
faith,  hope,  and  charity— explained 
in  this  way : — faith  in  GKod — hope  in 
immortality^^harity  to  all  mankind, 
•Kd  love  to  God  supremely.  And 
■ow  being  completely  divested,  having 
sacrificed  all  upon  the  altar^  we  shall 
be  invested  with  a  mitre  and  robe, 
with  <  holiness  to  the  Lord'  inserted 
upon  every  part  of  it. 

^  Then  shall  we  wear  the  lambskin 
to  advantage,  and  be  continually  re- 
IDinded  thereby  of  that  purity  of  life 
and  conduct,  which  is  so  essentially 
necessary  to  gain  admktance  into  the 
celestial  lodge  above,  where  the  Su- 
preme Architect  of  the  universe  pre- 
sides ;  which  nwqyye  all  be  so  happy 
as  to  obtain,  throl^i  Jesus  Christ  our 
l^ord.    Amen." 


OHIO  GRAND  CHAPTER. 

The  most  excellent  Royal  Arch 
Chapter  of  the  state  of  Ohio^,  met  at 
Colusabos,  on  the  13th  of  December 
last,  and  aft^  transacting  their  ordi- 
nary business,  which  continued  sev^ 
nd  days,  they  constituted  the  foUow- 
ing  officers  for  the  ensuing  year. 

M.  E«  Davis  Embbxb,  of  Cincin- 
nati, grand  high  priest. 

M.  £.  Anaximander  Wabbtbr,  of 
Marietta,  deputy  grand  high  priest 

M.  £•  Daniel  F.  Rxedek,  of  Leb- 
anon, grand  king. 

M.  £.  Joseph  S.  Hughs,  of  Dela- 
ware, grand  scribe. 

M.  £.  Benjamin  Garoiner,  of 
Columbus,  grand  secretary. 

M.  £.  Lincoln  Goodalb,  of  Co- 
)umbus,  mod  treasurer. 

M.  £,  Rev.  Philander  Chase,  of 
Worthington,  grand  chaplain. 

M.  E.  Abram  J.  McDowell,  of 
Franklinton,  grand  marshal. 

M.  E.  J.  Bailhachb,  of  Chilicothe, 
prand  captain  of  the  host. 

M.  E.John  Satterthw ait,  grand 
principal  sojourner. 


M.  E.  BoiuAMur  Smith,  of  Gthi- 

ville,  grand  royal  arch  captain. 

M.  E.  Luther  D.  Barker,  of  Ma- 
rietta, grand  master  of  the  third  vaiL 

M.  E.  Potter  Wright,  of  Worth- 
ington,  grand  master  of  the  second 
vail. 

M.  E.  Allison  C.  Looker,  of 
Chilicothe,  grand  master  of  the  first 
vail. 

'   M.  E.  Charles  Sloper,  of  Colum- 
bus, grand  sword  bearer,  and  tyler. 

SKETCHES  OF  THE  ROYAL  ART. 

From  the  earliest  ages  of  antiquity, 
the  royal  art  was  ever  taught  with  the 
greatest  circumspection,  not  in  schools 
or  academies,  to  a  promiscuous  audi* 
enee,  but  was  confined  to  certain  fam- 
ilies ;  the  rulers  of  which  instructed 
their  children  or  disciples,  and  by 
this  means  conveyed  their  mysterious 
knowledge  to  posterity. 

After  the  floods  the  professors  of 
this  art  were  first  distinguished  by  the 
name  of  Noachid^e,  afterwards  by  that 
of  sages,  or  wise  men,  (men  instructed 
as  Moses,  in  all  the  wisdom  of  the 
Egyptians,)  Chaldeans^  philosophers, 
masters  in  Israel,  ^.,  and  were  ever 
venelnted  as  sacred  persons.  They 
consisted  of  persons  of  the  brightest 
parts  and  genius,  who  exerted  their 
utmostabilities  in  dUcovering  and  nt- 
vuHgating  the  various  mysterie$  of 
nmture^  firom  whence  to  draw  im- 
provements, and  inventions  of  the 
nost  useful  consequences.  Men  whose 
talents  were  not  only  employed  io 
speculation,  or  in  private  acts  of  bene- 
ficence ;  but  who  were  also  public 
blessings  to  the  age  and  countries  in 
which  they  lived,  possessed  with  mod- 
erate desires,  who  knew  how  to  con- 
quer their  passions  j  practisers  and 
teachers  of  the  purest  morality,  and 
ever  exerting  themselves  to  prompte  » 
the  harmony  and  felicity  of  society^ 
They  were  therefore  consulted  from 
all  parts,  and  venerated  with  that  sin- 
cere homage  which  is  never  paid  but 
to  real  merit ;  and  the  greatest  and 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


tl« 


M  addiliM  to  dMT  i«pcml  difMM; 
to  be  wroQetf  asMS^  fliicb  bngfal  4 


A  prmcfpal  eiedkace,  whidi  nm- 
4ef«i|  tbeM  inwMMaaMMg  aea,  wan 
tacUmrmtjfy  wfaicfa  m  a  pecofiar  maa- 
wrtbej  practised  aad  kKalcated  as 
■cciiwiy  for  coacealiiif  iiroai  tbe  ■>- 
wortbj  irint  few  were  qoafified  lo 
Icvn,  and  tdB  fewer  to  teach.  Qn'  t 
neweM  iaeertj  mewcU  loftd.* 

CHARACTEB  OT  iOS£PH  CLAT,  Wjni  . 

fa  a  letter  fnoa  J— ei  CnftuMh,  Wocskip- 
fol  Mafter  of  Lodfe,  No.  2,  hbciarfir  on  i 
Cbemhtry,  ke.  to  a  Paft  Master  of  one 
of  tbe  lAMfytn  in  Ibe  eitr  of  PhBadelphia, 
•oon  after  Mr.  Clip's  deatfa. 

The  dmracter  of  Mr,  Clay  wifl  ev- 
^  grace  the  pace  of  Americaii  biofrra- 
pby.  His  mighty  mhid  comprehend- 
ed within  its  sphere  the  learning  of  the 
present  day.  In  truths  the  enidition 
€f  our  much  lamented  brother  was  as 
extensive  as  the  circle  of  the  arts  and 
sciences.  His  knowledge  was  not 
confined  to  any  particolar  branch  of 
learning,  which  generally  character^ 
ises  men  in  higher  stations ;  but  it  was 
of  that  kind,  embracing  physical  and 
metaphysical  reasoning,  which  exalted 
his  mind  to  the  ^ontemphition  of  ce- 
lestial and  terrestrial  nature ;  and 
which  called  forth  all  the  actite  ener- 

?fies  of  the  intellectual  faculty.  We 
ind  him  at  once  the  statesman,  natu- 
ral historian,  philosopher,  chemist, 
and  mathematician.  He  was  also 
versed  in  Greek,  Latin,  and  Arabic ; 
and  during  his  confinement,  when  the 
viulei)ce  of  the  disorder  abated,  his 
mind  was  employed  in  the  study  of 
the  Hebrew  tongue ;  in  which,  I  am 
informed,  he  made  great  progress. 
How  great  is  that  mind  which  embra- 
ces within  its  scope  so  many  intricate 
aiW  complicated  sciences  !  How  ex- 
alted is  the  contemplation  of  nature  ! 
His  knowledge  of  botany,  mineralogy, 
and  some  other  departments  of  natu- 

*  He  th^t  knows  not  how  to  be  silent, 
can  never  know  how  to  speak. 


ike  bewihfafed  travdlery 
».     A^ 

coffciBgly  he  was  MmlMKmriy  eleded 
aa  koMwary  fellow  of  tiie  Pluladd- 
pbia  LjBBseaa  Socictjr- 

Aj  aasaa  of  besevoleiice  and  char- 

;  as  a 
,  ins  judgmeat 
sbone  with  icspleadeet  hmtae  in  tbe 
coagRss  of  ike  United  States.  Asa 
represeotative,  tkerdbfe,  he  did  boat 
our  to  bis  u— iiiiwnln.'and  to  his 


country ;  fer  ke  was  always  Ibuod  ii^ 
tbat  lioe  of  duty  be  cmtd  his  cooBtij 
and  its  geaeral  vdftre.  As  a  Maaoa^ 
no  oae  was  OKwe  expert  ia  the.  wori^ 
of  the  crafu  Id  tbe  high  aad  exalted 
slatioB  of  worsbipfal  nsaster  of  kxlge 
No.  3,to  which  b^ras  called  by  the 
brethiea  of  said  Mlee,  be  shone  as  a 
star  of  the  first  magnitude  in  the  east ; 
as  the  pillar  of  wisdom,  he  ilhiroined 
the  lodge ;  as  a  cohrain  of  the  Corin- 
thian coder,  he  gave  strength  to  his 
design,  and  beaoty  to  hb  worL  More 
lately,  h»  anremilted  zeal  Im- tbe  or- 
der of  Masonry  was  shewn  at  tbe  con* 
secration  of  the  New  Hall,  in  tbe  so- 
leaui  rkes  and  cereaoaies  ia  which 
be  paitidpated.  With  that  seal  and 
peiscvcraDse  in  works  of  charity  aad 
oenevolence,  we  find  him  at  tbe  bead 
of  a  new  chapter  in  tbe  Holy  Royal 
Arch,  in  the  chwacter  of  high  priest^ 
tbe  soleoin  duties  of  whioh  he  con- 
ducted with  wisdom,  barmooy,  and 
beauty — ^But,  aUs !  hie  is  no  more.*** 

TO  MASONIC  CLERCTMEN. 

Masonry  is  ofteji  censured  on  ac- 
count of  the  multiplicity  of  dergymen, 
who  totally  neglect  to  attend  and  per- 
form their  wo&k  in  the  lodges  to 
which  they  respectively  belong,  or 
in  any  other  lodge  where  it  is  their 
duty  to  attend,  for  fear  of  incurring 
Ihe  displeasure  of  a  few  scrupulous 
members  of  their  congregations. — 
"  Our  minister,'^  say  they,  **  is  a  Free- 
mason ;  he  was  initiated  into  the 
lodge  while  he  was  a  student  in  col- 
lege^  before  be  was  sufficiently  ao- 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MItCBIXANSOtrt. 


217 


^^iatnted  with  tbe  principles  of  the 
leKgioo  which  he  now  professes,  and 
was  tb^e  any  good  iq  Masonry,  he 
wodd  not  thus  neglect  the  institution.'' 
Let  such  ministers  of  the  gospel  as 

I  hkve  been  initiated  into  the  mysteries 
of  Masonry,  in  a  conscientious  man- 
t&y  answer  this  objection ;  let  them 
inquire  of  -  their  own  consciences 
whether  they  are  doii^  their  duty  in 
neglecting  to  lend  their  aid  to  one  of 
the  most  ancient,  ^nourable,  and  be- 
aevolent  institutions  in  the  world  ;  an 

'  institutieQ  nearly  allied  to  the  holy 
rdigion  of  which  they  are  teachers; 
an  institution  which  none  of  them 
dare  X6  condemn,  and  which  they  are 
under  the  most  solemn  obligations  to 
support.  That  there  are  refractory 
and  immoral  members  in  our  lodges 
and  chapters,  we  do  not  pretend  to  de- 
Bj ;  but  we  do  deny  that  the  institu- 
tion ought  to  be  condcanned  on  that 
account  f  and  we  know  that  the  punc- 
tual attendance,  and  salutary  precepts 
of  our  truly  pious  brethren,  whether 
clergy  or  laity,  has  a  tendency  to 
^  mend  the  morals  and  improve  the 
heart.'' 

I      k  XRUE  SERVANT  WILL  OBEY  fflS 
!  MASTER. 

There  b  nothing,  perhaps,  in  which 
a  good  servant  Skes  more  delight, 
than  in  stricdy  obeying  the  ccmmands 
of  a  beloved  master.  And  perhaps 
no  greater  inconsistency  can  exist,  in 
a  human  being,  than  to  profess  his 
love  and  devotion,  and  to  acknow- 
ledge his  allegiance  to  a  master, 
whose  precepts  he  treats  with  con- 
tempt, and  whose  commands  he  puts 
at  d^ance.  And  who  is  the  acknow- 
ledged Master  of  every  Freemason  ? 
It  is  no  less  a  Being  than  He  who 
crested  all  things  out  of  nothing !  the 
Great  Architect  of  the  Universe,  the 
Everlasting  God,  who  holds  the  desti- 
•ny  of  every  creature  in  his  hand,  and 
whose  eye  b  continually  on  all  our 
works;  ^ho  looks  down  from  the 
Grand  Lodge  above,  into  the  body  of 
every  lo<^  beneath  the  lun,  and  into 


the  heart  of  every  member;  whoscru- 
tinises  every  action,  and  knows  every 
thought ;  who  measures  our  work  by 
his  own  unerring  rule,  .and  who  will 
brinff  us  to  an  account  for  the  manner 
in  which  we  have  performed  our  duty 
towards  Him  and  towards  our  breth- 
ren. This  same  Grand  Master  has 
plainly  given  in  that  book,  which  we 
profess  to  take  for  the  rule  of  our  faith,  . 
in  the  20th  chapter  of  Exodus,  bis 
peremptory  commands ;  which  every 
true  Mason  will  strive  with  all  his 
might  to  obey. 

Every  Mason  who  makes  me  of 
the  name  of  God,  in  any  other  man* 
ner,  than  *^  with  that  reverential  awe 
which  is  due  from  a  creature  to  his 
Creator j^^  is  not  only  guilty  of  highly 
UNM Asomc  CONDUCT,  and  places  him- 
self upon  a  level  with  the  lowt^t  dregs 
of  society,  but  incurs  the  penalties  of 
the  laws  of  his  country ;  laws  which, 
as  a  Mason,  he  is  most  solemnly  bound 
to  obey,  and  to  support  both  by  pre- 
cept and  example.  He  gives  the  lie 
to  his  professions,  and  greatly  contri- 
butes towards  bringing  into  disrepute 
an  institution  highly  honourable  in  it- 
self, and  beneficial  to  the  world. 


MISCELLANEOUS^ 

WONDERS  OF  CREATION. 

BT  THE  REV.  DATID  SIMPSON. 

The  grand  evidence  of  Christianity 
rests  beyond  doubt  on  the  claims  od 
Revelation  \  but  this  consideration 
should  not  prevent  our  attention  to  the 
auxiliary  testimony  which  is  furnished 
by  the  Author  of  nature  in  his  physic- 
al creation. 

While  we  daily  study  the  former, 
we  shall  do  well  to  pay  all  due  atten- 
tion to  the  latter,  according  to  our 
opportunities  of  investigation.  To  an 
enlightened  observer,  they  both  carry 
indubitable  marks  of  their  great  ori- 
ginal. *  The  heavens  declare  the  glo- 
ry of  God,  and  the  earth  is  full  of  his 
riches.'  The  most  perfect  catalogue 
of  stars,  before  Herschel  appeared,  did 
d 


218 


MTSCELLANXOUS. 


not  contain  quite  5000,  but  by  the  va^t 
superiority  of  his  glasses,  he  hath  dis- 
covered 44,000  stars,  in  a  few  degrees 
of  the  heavens ;   and  by  the  same 

C portion,  it  is  supposed  that  T^  mil- 
IS  are  exposed  in  the  expanse  to  hu- 
man investigation.  Lalande  sup*poses 
that  a  glass  of  HerschePs  power  may 
discover  90  millions  of  stars  in  the 
whole  surface  of  the  heavens,  and  that 
even  this  number  is  but  small,  in  com- 
parison of  what  exists.  A 11  these  stars 
are  of  a  fiery  nature,  and  conjectured 
to  be  so  many  suns,  with  their  systems 
of  planets  moving  round  them.  VW 
know  the  sun  to  be  the  centre  of  our 
system.  It  b  accompanied  with  29 
planets,  besides  about  450  comets. 
What  an  amazing  idea  does  this  give 
us  of  the  works  of  God  !  And  if  such 
be  the  work,  what  must  the  Work- 
man be  ! 

Every  part  of  nature,  with  which 
we  are  acquainted,  is  full  of  living 
creatures,  with  stores  of  every  kind  to 
supply  their  necessities.  Thb  little 
globe  of  ours  is  known  to  contain  with- 
in its  bowels  a  great  variety  of  valua- 
ble minerals,  and  to  be  covered  with  a- 
bout  20,000  different  species  of  vegeta- 
bles, 3000  species  of  worms,  120,000 
species  of  insects,  200  species  of 
amphibious  animals,  550  species  of 
birds,  2,600  sp^ies  of  fish,  and  200 
species  of  quadrupeds,  flow  immense 
theft  must  be  the  number  of  individ- 
uals !  One  fly  is  found  to  bring  forth 
:.'000  at  a  time,  and  a  single  codfish 
to  produce  considerably  more  than 
three  millions  and  a  half  of  young. 
Leewenhock  tells  us,  that  there  are 
more  animals  in  the  melt  of  a  single 
codfish,  than  there  are  men  upon  the 
whole  earth.  Over  all  these  crea- 
tures preside  upwards  of  730  millions 
ofljunmn  beings.  Such  is  the  family 
of  the  great  Father  here  upon  earth  ! 
And  when  it  is  considered,  that  the 
eat  ill  itself,  with  all  its  furniture,  is 
no  more,  when  compared  with  the 
whole  system  of  things,  than  a  single 
gruin  of  sand,  when  compared  with  a 
huge  mountain,  we  are  lost  in  the  im- 


mensity of  God's  works,  and  constrain* 
ed  to  cry  out,  ^  Lord,  what  is  man,  that 
thou  art  mindful  of  him,  or  the  son  of 
man,  that  thou  vbitest  him  i^  And  if 
to  this  immensity  of  the  works  of  cre- 
ation, we  add  the  admirable  strocture 
of  the  whole,  and  the  exquisite  per- 
fection of  every  part,  we  shall  oot  fail 
of  being  exceedingly  aflected  with  the 
ineffable  wisdom  of  the  Divine  Arch»- 
tect.  To  bring  thb  consideration  ntore 
within  the  grasp  $(  human  compr^ 
heusion,  let  us  take  to  pieces  and  ex- 
amine the  several  parts  of  any  one 
creature  which  God  hath  made ;  and 
we  shall  find  a  perfection  among  its 
several  powers,  and  an  adaption  of  its 
situation  in  the  grand  scale  of  exist- 
ence, far  surpassing  human  skilL  Let 
the  most  perfect  anatomist  that  ever 
existed,  make  his  observations  upoD 
the  human  frame:  let  him  examine 
with  the  greatest  possible  attentioa 
the  tout  ememble  of  the  structure, 
then  let  him  proceed  to  the  several 
parts,  of  which  the  microcosm  is  com- 
posed ;  first,  the  powers  of  the  mind ; 
the  understanding,  the  will,  the  men> 
or^,  the  conscience,  and  the  various 
afiections ;  next  the  five  senses ;  the 
touch,  the  taste,  the  smell,  the  hear- 
ing, and  the  sight ;  afterwards  let  him 
proceed  to  the  several  fluids  of  tl^ 
body ;  and  then  to  the  300  bones,  the 
40  different  sorts  of  glands,  the  4^ 
muscles,  the  40  pair  ot  nerves,  the  fi- 
bres, the  membranes,  tlie  arteries,  the 
veins,  the  lymphaeducts,  the  excretory 
vessels,  the  tendons,  the  ligaments, 
the  cartilages;  and  let  him  explore 
the  whole  and  every  part  with  the 
greatest  degree  of  accuracy,  know- 
ledge, and  judgment,  that  ever  center- 
ed in  man  ;  and  then  let  him  honestly  ' 
say,  whether  he  could  suggest  the 
smallest  improvement  in  any  one  re- 
spect. If  he  were  an  atheist  before 
such  an  investigation,  like  the  cele- 
brated Galen  he  would  be  converted 
to  the  belief  of  the  Divine  Exbteuce, 
would  compose  a  hymn  in  praise  of 
the  Creator  of  the  world,  and  sing 
with  the  great  progepitor  of  maoklnd  : 

Digitized  by\jOOQlC 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


219 


*'  These  are  thy  glorioas  works,  Parent  of 

good; 
Almighty,  thine  this  universal  frame. 
Thus  wondrous  fair ;  Thyself  how  wond'- 

rou8  then ! 
Unqieakable !    who    sttt'st   above    these 

heav'ns, 
To  us  invisible,  or  dimly  seen «   * 
lo  these  tiiy  lowest  works  ;  yet  these  de- 

clare 
Thy  goodness  beyond  thought,  and  power 

divine.'* 


BLACK  HOLE  OF  CALCUTTA. 

The  foHowiog  particulars  of  the 
horrible  imprisonment  of  the  English 
in  the  Black  Hole,  after  the  capture 
ef  Calcutta  by  storm,  in  June,  1756, 
are  from  Ome's  excellent  "  flistory  of 
the  Military  Transactions  of  the  British 
Nation  in  Indostan/' 

<*  At  five  the  Nabob  entered  the  fort 
accompanied  by  his  Greqeral,  Meer 
Jaffier,  and  most  of  the  principal  of- 
ficers of  his  army;  he  immediately 
ordered  Onnichund  and  Hissendas, 
to  be  brought  before  him,  and  receiv- 
them  with  civility;  and  having,  bid 
some  officers  to  go  and  take  posses- 
sioD  of  the  Company's  treasury,  he 
proceeded  to  the  principal  apartment 
of  the  Factory,  where  he  sat  in  state, 
aad  received  the  compliments  of  his 
court  and  attendants,  in  magnificent 
expressions  of.his  prowess  and  good 
Ibrtone.  Soon  after,  he  sent  for  Mr. 
Holwell,  to  whom  he  expressed  much 
resentment  at  the  presumption  of  the 
Englbh  hi  daring  to  defend  the  fort, 
and  much  dissatisfaction  at  the  small- 
nesyof  the  snm  found  in  the  treasury, 
which  did  not  exceed  fifty  thousand 
ropees.  Mr.  Holwell  had  two  other 
conferences  with  him  on  this  subject 
before  seven  o'clock,  when  the  Nabob 
dismissed  him,  with  repeated  assuran- 
ces, OB  the  word  of  a  soldier,  that  he 
should  suffer  no  harm. 

Mr.  Holwell,  returning  to  hii  un- 
fortunate companions,  found  them  as- 
sembled, and  surrounded  by  a  strong 
guard.  Several  buildings  on  the 
north  and  south  sides  of  the  fort 
were  already  in  flames,  which  ap- 


proached with  so  thick  a  smoke  on 
either  hand,  that  the  prisoners  ima- 
gined their  enemies  had  caused  thb 
conflagration,  in  order  to  suffocattt 
them  between  the  two  fires.  On 
each  side  of  the  eastern  gate  of  the 
fort  extended  a  range  of  chambers 
adjoining  to  the  curtain ;  and  before 
the  chambers  a  varanda,  or  open  gal- 
lery ;  it  was  of  arched  masonry,  and 
intended  to  shelter  the  soldiers  from 
the  sun  and  rain,  but  being  low,  al- 
most totally  obstructed  the  chambers 
behind  from  the  light  and  air;  and 
whilst  some  of  the  guard  were  look- 
ing in  other  parts  of  the  factory  for 
proper  places  to  confine  the  prisoners 
during  the  night,  the  rest  ordered  them 
to  assemble  in  ranks  under  the  varan- 
da,  on  the  right  hand  of  the  gateway ; 
where  they  remained  for  some  time 
with  so  little  suspicion  of  their  im- 
pending fate,  that  they  laughed  among 
themselves  at  the  seeming  oddity  of 
this  disposition,  and  amused  them- 
selves with  conjecturing  what  they 
should  next  be  ordered  to  do.  About 
eight  o'clock,  those  wlto  had  been  sent 
to  examine  the  rooms,  reported  that 
they  had  found  none  fit  for  that  pur- 
pose. On  which  the  principal  oflirers 
commanded  the  prisoners  to  go  into 
one  of  the  rooms  which  stood  behind 
them  along  the  varanda.  It  was  the 
common  dungeon  of^he  garrison,  who 
used  to  call  it  the  Black  Hok.  JVl  any 
of  the  prisoners,  knowing  the  place, 
began  to  expostulate ;  upon  which  the 
officer  ordered  his  men  to  cut  down 
those  who  hesitated ;  which  the  pris- 
oners obeyed.  But  before  all  were 
within,  the  room  was  so  thronged, 
that  the  last  entered  with  difficulty. 
The  guard  immediately  closed  and 
locked  the  door,  confining  One  hun- 
dred and  forty-six  persons  in  a  room 
not  twenty  feet  square,  with  only  two 
small  windows,  and  these  obstructed 
by  the  varanda.  It  was  the  hottest 
season  of  tiie  year,  and  the  nisriit  un- 
commonly sultry,  even  at  this  se-j  <on. 
The  »  xcessive  pressuie  of  their  bodies 
against  one  another,  and  the  intolera- 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


220 


MI8CELLANBOU8. 


ble  heat  which  prevailed  as  soon  as 
the  door  was  shut,  convinced  the  pris- 
oners that  it  was  impossible  to  live 
through  the  night  in  this  horrible  con- 
finement, and  violent  attempts  were 
immediately  made  to  force  the  door, 
but  without  effect,  for  it  opened  in- 
ward ;  on  which  many  began  to  give 
loose  to  rage. 

«  Mr.  Holwell,  who  had  placed  him- 
self at  one  of  the  windows,  exhorted 
them  to  remain  composed,  both  in 
body  and  mind,  as  the  only  means  of 
surviving  the  ni^ht,  and  hb  remon- 
strances produced  a  short  interval  of 
quiet :  (|uring  which  time  he  applied 
to  an  old  Jemaudtar,  who  bore  some 
marks  of  humanity  in  his  countenance, 
promising  to  give  him  a  thousand  ru- 
pees in  the  morutng,  if  he  would  sep- 
arate the  prisoners  into  two  chambers. 
The  old  man  went  to  try,  but  return- 
ing in  a  few  minutes,  said  it  was  im- 
possible ;  when  Mr.  Holwell  offered 
him  a  larger  sum ;  on  which  he  re- 
tired once  more,  and  returned  with 
the  fatal  sentence,  that  no  relief  could 
be  expected  because  the  Nabob  was 
asleep,  and  no  one  dared  to  awake 
him. 

"  In  the  mean  time  every  nainute 
had  increased  their  sufferings.  The 
first  effect  of  their  confinement  was 
a  profuse  and  continual  sweat,  which 
soon  produced  intolerable  thirst,  suc- 
ceeded by  excruciating  pains  in  the 
breajt,  with  difficulty  of  breathing 
little  short  of  suffocation.  Various 
means  were  tried  to  obtain  more  room 
and  air.  Every  one  stripped  off  his 
clothes;  every  hat  was  put  in  mo- 
tion ;  and  these  methods  affording  no 
relief,  it  was  proposed  that  they  should 
all  sit  down  on  their  hams  at  the  same 
time  ;  and  ai'ter  remaining  a  little 
while  in  this  posture,  rise  all  together. 
This  fatal  expedient  was  thnce  re- 
peated before  they  had  been  confined 
an  hour ;  and  every  time,  several,  un- 
able to  raise  themselves  agaiiiy  fell, 
and  were  trampled  to  death  by  their* 
companions.  Attempts  were  again 
pade  to  force  the  door^  whicb|  faiiiog 


as  before,  redoubled  their  rage :  bui 
the    thirst   increasing,    nothing    but 
"  water  !  water  !"  became  soon  after 
the  genera!  cry.     The  good  Jemaud- 
tar immediately  ordered  some  skins  of 
water  to  be  brought  to  the  wmdows  ^ 
but  instead  of  relief,  his  benevolence 
became  a  more  dreadful  cause  of  de- 
struction ;  for  the  sight  of  the  water 
threw  every  one  into  such  excessive 
agitations  and  ravings,  that,  unable  to 
resist  this  violent  impulse  of  nature, 
none  could  wait  to  be  regularly  serv- 
ed, but  each,  with  the  utmost  ferocity, 
battled  against  those  who  were  likely 
to  get   it  before  him :  and,  in  these 
conflicts,  many  were  either  pressed  t* 
death  by  the  efforts  of  others,  or  sufib* 
cated  by  their  own.    This  scene,  in- 
stead of  producing  compassion  in  the 
guard  without,   only    excited    their 
mirth ;  and  they  held  up  lights  to  the 
bars,  in  order  to  have  the  diabolical 
satisfaction  of  viewing  the  deplorable 
contentions  of  the  sufferers  within  ; 
who  finding  it  impossible  to  get  any 
water  while  it  was  thus  fiuriously  dis- 
puted, at  length  sufiered  those  who 
were  nearest  to  the  windows  to  convey 
it  in  their  hats  to  those  behind  them. 
It  proved  no  relief,  either  to  their 
thirst  or  other  sufierings,  for  the  fever 
increased  every  moment  with  the  in- 
creasing depravity  of  .the  air  in  the 
dungeon,  which  had  been  so  often 
V  respired,  and  was  saturated  with  the 
hot  and  deleterious  effluvia  of  pntri^ 
ing  bodies,  of  which  the  stench  was 
little  less  than  mortal. 

Before  midnight,  all  who  were  alive, 
and  had  not  partaken  of  the  air  at  the 
windows,  were  either  in  a  lethargic 
stupefaction,  or  raving  with  deliriom. 
Every  kind  of  invective  and  abuse 
was  uttered,  in  hopes  of  provoking 
the  guard  to  put  an  end  to  their  mise- 
ries, by  firing  into  the  dungeon ;  and, 
whilst  some  were  blaspheming  their 
Creator,  with  the  firantic  execrations 
of  torment  and  despair,  Heaven  was 
invoked  by  others  with  wild  and  inco- 
herent prayers ;  until  the  weaker,  ex- 
hausted h^  Aese  agitations,  at  length 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


JUacSLLANSOUS. 


221 


kid  dMm  qoieCly  a«d  expired  oo  the 
bodies    of  their  dead  or  agonizing 
friends.     Those  who  still  survived  in 
the  inward  part  of  the  dungeon,  find- 
ing that  the  water  had  afforded  them 
no  relief,  made  efforts  to  obtain  air,  by 
cndeavoaring   to  scramble  over  the 
hoA  of  those  who  stood  between 
diem  and  the  windows ;  where  the  ut- 
aiost  strengdi  of  every  one  was  em- 
ployed two  hours,  either  in  maintaio- 
mg  htt  own  ground,  or  in  endeavour- 
ing to  get  that  of  wnich  others  were  in 
possession.     All  r^ards  of  compas- 
sion or  affection  were  lo8t,.and  no  one 
would  recede  or  give  way  for  the  re- 
Bef  of  another.    Faintness,  sometimes 
gave  short  pauses  of  quiet,  but  the  first 
BK>tion  of  any  one  renewed  the  strug- 
'^  throiKh  all,  under  which  some  one 
sunk  to  Tue  no  more.    At  two  o'clock, 
oo  more  thau  fifty  remained  alive; 
but  eren  this  number  were  too  many 
to  partake  of  the  saving  air,  the  con- 
test for  which,  and  life,  continued  un- 
til the  mom,  long  implored,  began  to 
bfeak  ;  and,  with  the  hope  of  relief, 
gave  the  few  snrvivers  a  view  of  the 
dead.     The  survivers  then  at  the  win- 
dow, finding  that  their  entreaties  could 
>Bot  prevail  on  the  guard  to  open  the 
door^  it  occurred  to  Mr.  Cooke,  the 
secretary  of  the  council,  that  Mr. 
HoJw^l,  if  alive,  might  have  more  in- 
llaeoce   to  obtain  their  relief;   and 
two  of  the  company,  undertaking  the 
search^  discovered  him,  having  still 
some  sisns  of  life ;  but  when  they 
brou^it  him  towards  the  window,  ev- 
ery one  refused  to  quit  hb  place,  ex- 
eepdng  captain  Mills,  who,  with  rare 
generosity,  oflRsred  to  resign  his ;  on 
which   the    rest  likewise    agreed  to 
make  room.     He  bad  scarcely  begun 
to  recover  his  senses,  before  an  oflS- 
cer,  sent  by  the  Nabob,  came  and  in- 
quired if  the  English  chief  survived  ; 
and  soon  after  the  same  man  returned, 
with  an  order  to  open  the  prison.  The 
dead  were  so  thronged,  and  the  survi- 
yers  had  so  little  strength  remaining, 
that  they  were  employed  near  half  an 
kour  in  removti^  the  bodies  which 


lay  against  the  door,  befor  diey  could 
clear  a  passage  to  go  out  one  at  a 
time ;  when,  of  one  hundred  and  for- 
ty-six who  went  in,  no  more  than 
twenty-three  came  out  alive,  the  roost 
ghastly  forms  that  were  ever  seen 
alive.  The  Nabob's  troops  beheld 
them,  and  the  havock  of  death  from 
which  they  had  escaped,  with  indiffer- 
ence ;  but  did  not  prevent  them  from 
removing  at  a  distance,  and  were  im- 
mediately obliged,  by  the  intolerable 
stench,  to  clear  the  dungeon,  whilst 
others  dug  a  ditch,  on  the  outside  of 
the  fort,  into  which  all  the  dead  bodies 
were  promiscuously  thrown. 

Mr.  Holwell,  unable  to  .jtand,  was 
soon  after  carried  to  the  Nabob,  who 
was  so  far  from  showing  any  compas- 
sion for  his  condition,  or  remorse  for 
the  death  of  the  other  prisoners,  that 
he  only  talked  of  the  treasures  which 
the  English  had  buried;  and  threaten- 
ing him  with  farther  injuries,  if  he  per- 
sisted in  concealing  them,  ordered  him 
to  be  kept  a  prisoner.  The  officers, 
to  whose  charge  he  was  delivered,  put 
him  into  fetters,  together  with  Messrs. 
Court  and  Walcot,  who  were  likewise 
supposed  to  know  something  of  the 
treasures;  the  rest  of  the  .^urvivers, 
amongst  whom  were  Messrs.  Cook 
and  Mills,  were  told  they  might  go 
where  they  pleased ;  but  an  Englbh 
woman,  the  only  one  of  her  sex  a- 
mongst  the  prisoners,  was  reserved 
for  the  seraglio  of  the  general,  Meer 
Jaffier.  The  dread  of  remaining  any 
longer  within  the  reach  of  such  bar- 
barians, determined  the  most  of  them 
to  remove  immediately,  as  far  as  their 
strength  enabled  them,  from  the  fort, 
and  most  tended  towards  the  vessels,  . 
which  were  still  in  sight ;  but  when 
they  reached  Govindpore,  in  the 
southern  part  of  the  Company's 
bounds,  they  were  informed  that 
guards  were  stationed  to  prevent  per- 
sons from  passing  to  the  vessels ;  on 
,  which  most  of  them  took  sheher  in 
deserted  hut^  where  some  of  tbe  na- 
tives, who  had  serve^i  the  tnf.llsh  in 
different  employments,  came  and  min- 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


t22 


HISCSLLANEOUS. 


istered  to  their  imoiediatewaots*  Two 
or  three,  however  ventured,  and  got 
to  the  vessels  before  sunset.  Their 
appearance,  and  the  dreadful  tale 
they  had  to  tell,  were  the  severest  of 
reproaches  to  those  on  board,  who, 
intent  only  on  their  own  preservation, 
had  made  no  efforts  to  facilitate  the 
escape  of  the  rest  of  the  garrison. 
Never,  perhaps,  was  such  an  oppor^ 
tunity  of  performing  an  heroic  action 
so  ignominiously  neglected  j  for  a  sin- 
gle sloop,  with  fifteen  brave  men  on 
board,  might,  in  spite  of  all  the  efforts 
of  the  enemy,  have  come  up,  and,  an- 
choring under  the  fort,  have  carried 
away  dl  who  suffered  in  the  dungeon. 

ARTHUR  FITZROY,  OH  THE  YOUNG 
BACKWOODSMAN. 

(Concluded  from  page  194.) 
The  tragical  events  of  the  22d  of 
January,  which  encrimsoned  the  banks 
of  the  river  Raisin,  with  the  blood  of 
Kentucky's  noblest  sons,  were  an- 
nounced to  Emeline  the  morning  after 
the  receipt  of  a  letter,  which  Fitxroy 
had  written  her  from  Fort  Defiance. 
With  a  clow  of  fervent  patriotism,  he 
had  depicted  his  bright  hope  of  that 
halo  of  glory,  which  he  fancied  would 
be  his,  should  he  gallantly  fall  in  de- 
fence of  his  country,  and  with  the 
most  touching  pathos  did  be  dwell  up- 
on the  still  brighter  hope  of  an  hon- 
ourable return  to  the  home  of  his  pa- 
rents, and  the  bosom  of  his  beloved 
Emeline. 

I  need  not  attempt  to  paint  her  emo- 
tions, when  the  awful  intelligence  was 
communicated ;  for  a  month  she  suf- 
fered every  pang  which  the  most  ter- 
rible suspense  could  inflict,  until  one 
of  the  companions  of  her  unfortunate 
fiHend  arrived  in  the  neighbourhood, 
from  whom  she  learned  Uiat  the  com- 
pany to  which  he  and  Fitzroy  belong- 
ed, was  one  of  those  under  the  com- 
mand of  the  gallant  Madison,  that 
maintained  its  position  with  determin- 
ed intrepidity,  until  the  order  of  Win- 
chester, the  commanding  general,  to 


surrender  theihselves  prisoners  ofwar^ 
was  received ;  that  some  time  previ« 
ous  to  the  capitulation,  a  musket  ball 
struck  Fitzroy  in  the  left  ancle,  from 
which  the  blood  flowed  profusely,  but 
he  refused  to  leave  his  post,  and  tying 
his  handkerchief  closely  around  the 
wounded  part,jContinued  fighting  most 
valiantly  until  the  cessation  of  arms. 
When  the  prisoners  were  marched 
for  Maiden,  Fitzroy,  although  faint 
with  the  loss  of  blood,  justly  fearing 
the  incensed  savages,  resolved  upoo 
accompanying  his  companions,  and 
had  proceeded  with  their  assistance 
about  three  miles,  when  the  pain  aris- 
ing from  his  wound  became  so  exces- 
sive that  he  was  compelled  to  stop^ 
and  seating  himself  on  a  toe  by  the 
road  side,  his  fellow  prisoners  left  him, 
apparently  waiting  his  fate  with  manly 
composure.  According  to  his  own 
statement  since  his  return,  he  had  re- 
mained in  this  situation  but  half  an 
hour  when  he  was  taken  prisoner  by 
a  Pottawatamie  chief,  called  the  Little 
Owl,  to  whom  he  offered  a  considera- 
ble reward,  provided  he  should  be 
conducted  to  Maiden.  The  chiei^ 
however,  pleased  with  his  fine  ap- 
pearance, immediately  resolved  upon 
retaining  him,  refused  the  proffered 
reward,  and  marched  him  back  to  the 
battle  ground,  where  they  remained 
until  evening,  when  they  set  off  in 
company  with  several  Indians,  and 
having  proceeded  a  couple  of  mUes  to 
the  north,  encamped  for  the  night } 
the  chief  perceiving  the  pain  and  ex- 
haustion of  his  prisoner,  procured  him 
some  food,  and  made  an  application 
of  roots  to  his  wound,  which  gave  im- 
mediate relief.  On  the  following 
morning  they  renewed  their  march, 
and  after  a  few  days  travelling,  ar^ 
rived  on  the  shore  of  Lake  Michigan,' 
where  they  remained  several  weeks, 
suffering  every  privation  which  the 
rigours  of  a  northern  winter  and  the 
scarcity  of  food  could  inflict.  Fit«- 
roy's  wound  in  the  mean  time  was 
marly  cured  by  the  Indian  specifics 
that  w*ere  administered  :  but  another 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


BftSCKLLANEOUS. 


223 


mbfortune  awaited  :   Little  Owl,  bis 
master^  who  had  treated  him  with  ev- 
ery degree  of  kindness,  was  taken  sick 
and  died^  his  prisoner  was  claimed 
by  two  Indians  of  the  same  tribe,  and 
by  them  sold  to  a  Kickapoo  chief, 
wiio  happened  to  be  in  company,  and 
from  whom  he  was  destined  to  receive 
every  species  of  cruelty  that  savage 
boriMu^y  could  inflict ;  he  was  imme- 
diately   loaded    with   plunder,    and 
marched  to  the  head  waters  of  Fox 
River,  a   stream  that    empties  into 
Winebago  Lake  at  the  head  of  Green 
Bay,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  which 
be  remained,  constantly  guarded,  until 
the  spring  of  1814,  when  an  unsuc- 
cessful attempt  to  escape  drew  down 
upon  him  the  fiend-like  ire  of  hi^  mas- 
ter, and  after  a  solemn  debate  among  \ 
the  chiefs  of  his  tribe,  it  was  resolved 
that  he  should  be  burnt  to  death  :  the 
funeral  pile  was  soon  erected,  by  pla- 
cing a  quantity  of  dry  wood  around 
a  young  elm  that  stood  on  a  bigh  bluflf 
bank  i^  the  river  near  their  encamp- 
ment.    According  to  custom,  previ- 
ous to  the  sacrifice  of  their  victim,  a 
war  dance  was  held  over  the  prisoner, 
which  lasted  for  half  an  hour,  replete 
With  horrors  that  no  pen  can  describe, 
and  doubly  appaling  when  accompa- 
nying the  awful  solemnities  of  a  dying 
hour.     With  exultation  Fitzroy  was 
DOW  led  to  the  stake  ;  and  as  they 
were  about  to  confine  his  hands,  con- 
scious that  the  last  moment  for  resist- 
ance had  arrived,  and  that  no  conse- 
quences could  result  from  his  attempt 
more  dreadful  than  the  smoking  pile 
which  awaited  him,  he  sprung  from 
the  midst  of  those  who  were  tying 
him,  rushed  to  the  brink  of  the  preci- 
pice, leaped  down  on  a  projecting 
rock,  and  from  thence  into  the  water, 
to  the  astonishment  of  the  Indians, 
who  stood  for  an  instant  amazed  at  his 
daring  intrepidity.     His  master^  per- 
ceiving that  he  had  descended  unhurt, 
and  was  swimming  for  the  opposite 
shore,  raised  the  war-whoop,  and  de- 
scending by  the  same  projecting  rock, 
pursued  his  prisoner,  who  had  by  this 


time  gained  the  opposite  shore.  Fits- 
roy  observing  that  in  addition  to  his 
master,  many  warriors  were  descend- 
ing the  bluff  some  distance  below,  and 
aware  that  nothing  but  immediate 
flight  could  save  him,  set  off  with  the 
utmost  celerity.  His  incensed  master 
ascended  the  opposite  bank  before  he 
was  hid  by  the  thicket,  and  shouting 
to  his  companions  to  follow,  pursued 
with  all  the  fleetness  and  sagacity  of  a 
blood-hound ;  at  the  end  of  half  a 
mile,  the  chief,  from  his  superior 
swiftness,  seized  Fitzroy  by  the  shoul- 
der, who  immediately  wheeled,  and  a 
most  desperate  struggle  ensued ;  lock- 
ed in  each  other's  arms  they  tell  to 
the  ground,  and  twice  was  the  savage 
uppermost,  and  in  the  act  of  drawing 
his  scalping  knife,  when  a  vigoroia 
'  effort  gave  his  prisoner  the  ascendan- 
cy, and  grasping  the  knife  which  a  mo- 
ment before  had  threatened  his  owo 
existence,  he  plunged  it  into  the  heart 
of  his  savage  antagonist^  the  crim- 
soned blood  gushed  forth  in  torrents — 
an  awful  scream  succeeded — his  mus- 
cles relaxed  in  the  agonies  of  death, 
and  Fitzroy  found  himself  disengaged 
from  the  hold  of  the  dying  chfef. 
Aware  that  a  moment's  delay  would 
prove  fatal,  as  the  yell  of  the  remain- 
ing savages  was  distinctly  heard,  he 
drew  from  the  beh  of  the  fallen  foe  his 
tomahawk,  and  again  fled  with  re- 
doubled energy;  availing  himself  of 
the  knowledge  which  he  had  gained 
of  the  country  durmg  his  captivity,  he 
directed  his  course  towards  the  Ouis- 
consin,  which,  at  its  great  eastern  bend^ 
approaches  within  a  few  miles  of  the 
waters  of  Fox  River,  but  did  not  reach 
it  until  day-light  next  morning.  After 
a  few  hours  sleep  he  crossed  the 
stream,  and  proceeded  down  on  the 
opposite  shore,  for  the  post  of  Prairie 
du  Chien,  which  he  knew  was  loca- 
ted at  the  junction  of  the  Ouisconsin 
with  the  Mississippi,  and  on  the  forti- 
eth day  from  that  on  which  he  made 
his  escape,  he  trod  with  an  exulting 
step  and  grateful  heart  the  soil  of 
Kentucky.    The  fatigues  of  the  camp, 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


224 


MISCCLLAKB0C8. 


the  bloody  tngedy  of  the  river  Rai- 
sin,  the  cruelty  of  the  savages,  and 
their  dreadful  funeral  pile,  were  now 
all  forgotten,  with  the  fond  anticipation 
of  a  return  to  civilised   life,  to  the 
borne  and  caresses  of  hb  parents,  and 
above  all,  to  the  outstretched  arms 
and   palpitating  bosom  of  a  bvely 
female,  whose  every  aspiration  was 
breathed  for  his  happiness,  and  upon 
whose  love  and  fidelity  he  had  ever 
implicitly  relied,  retained  undivided 
possession  of  his  soul.     Flushed  with 
the  idea  of  dissipating  her  anxious  un- 
certainty as  to  his  fate,  and  elate  with 
the  confident  h(^  of  a  speedy  union 
to  the  engaging  object  of  his  wishes, 
he  dreamed  not  of  disappointment, 
nor  for  a  moment  believed  that  the 
lowering  hand  of  fate  would  dash  from 
his  lips,untasted,  the  nectarkms  bowl. 
It  was  under  the  influence  of  such 
emotions,  that  last  Sabbath  day  after- 
noon he  approached  the  dwelling  of 
his  dear  Emeline's  lather;  he  sprang 
from  his  horse,  entered  the  door  un- 
perceived,  and  stood  before  the  family ' 
for  a  moment  unrecognized :  his  pen- 
etrating eye,  however,  had  scarcely 
glanced  around,  ere   he  read,  from 
their  mournful  countenances,|he  heart- 
rending tale ;  the  idol  of  his  affections 
was  gone ;  the*  unrelenting  hand  of 
death  had  carried  to  the  cold  tomb  his 
friend,  his  companion,  his  infe;  an 
uninterrupted' waste  of  jovless  exist- 
ence was  spread  before  him,  without 
the  intervention  of  a  single  enlisjening 
ray  to  cheer  his  gloomy  path ;  over- 
whelmed with    iBsappointment   and 
grief,  he  sunk  into  a  chair,  and  was 
unable  for  some  time  to  give  utterance 
to  a  single  word ;  his  countenance  as- 
sumed the  wo-begone  aspect  which  it 
now  bears,  and  at  the  close  of  each 
-  day  since  his  return,  has  he  sought 
consolation  in  weeping  over  the  dark 
and  narrow  house,  which  contains  the 
mortal  part  of  his  lovely  friend. 

Had  Emeline  been  certain  of  the 
fall  of  Fitzroy  in  the  midst  of  battle, 
by  the  arms  of  a  magnanimous  foe, 
her  grief  might  perhaps  have  been  as- 


suaged; bat  the  drea^Mul  uncertaiotjr 
of  h'ls  fate,  the  screams  of  the  mangled 
warriors,  the  yeH  of  the  ruthless  bar* 
barian,  and  the  crackling  flames  of  the 
house  which  formed  the  funeral  pile  o€ 
the  wounded  prisoners,  struck  upon 
her  mind  with  redoubled  horror ;  and  • 
as  the  commissioned  by  the  king  of 
terrors,  early  marked  her  as  die  un- 
happy   victim   of  consuming  gri^. 
Month  aft«'  month  rolled  away,  with- 
out bringing  her  any  ii^elligence  of 
the  ultimate  fate  of  Fitzroy ;  the  re. 
turn  of  each  of  his  companions  was 
gladly  hailed,  and  every  newspaper  ' 
read  with  avidity,  in  hope  that  some 
light  mi^t  be  shed  upon  the  subject, 
but  all  in  vain :  little  doubt  remained 
but  what  he  had  either  been  toma- 
^hawked  by  the  road  side  when  he  was 
left  by  his  companions,  or  marched 
back  to  the  battle  ground,  and  inhu- 
manly burnt  with  the  wounded  prison- 
ers,  for  whose  protection  from  savage 
baiWity,  the  faith  of  a  British  general 
was  solenmly  pledged.     Ea<^  sao- 
ceeding  day  now  gradually  diminished 
the  fond,  but  fearfully  cherished  hop^, 
which  Emeline  had  hitherto  enter- 
tained, of  his  still  being  held  a  captive 
among  the  Indians,  and  the  probabill- 
tyof  his  escape  and  return.  The  glow 
of  youthful  health  fled  from  her  cheeky 
her  sprightly  eye  was  bathed  in  tears, 
her  hosom  beat  high,  but  not  with  Jo  j, 
it  was  the  thiob  of  fearfid  aj^refaeii- 
sion,  and  the  dread  foreboding  that 
another  hour  might  tell  in  her  ear  the 
unhallowed  death  of  her  lover :    in 
vain  were  the  sympathy  and  condo- 
lence of  parents;   in  vab  was  the 
magic  of  books  and  of  travelling ;  and 
equally  Vain  were  her  own  exertions 
to  rise  superior  to  disappointment  and 
sorrow,  and  bury  in  the  tomb  of  obli- 
vion the  sad  recollection  of  the  sever* 
ed  tie  of  friendship  and  love :  the 
calamity  was  too  great ;  she  sunk  into 
a  state  of  melancholy  wretchedness, 
in  which  she  lingered  until  a  few  days 
previous  to  the  return  of  her  long  ta« 
mented  friend ;  and  at  the  close  of  her 
mortal  career,  with  a  firm  relianire 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


9fUaBLLAMSO08. 


225 


apoQ  her  God,  she  ccdmly  hade  adiea 
to  the  fleeting  joys,  and  ever  occur- 
ring sorrows  of  this  lile,  and  stretch* 
11^  forth  her  hands  towards  the  por* 
tas  of  Heaven,  she  gladly  wetcomed 
4eath  as  the  harbinger  of  endle^  hap- 
Msess* 

Her  emaciated  body,  beaut^  even 
in  death,  now  reposes  in  tranquil  si- 
lence in  yonder  clay  tenement,  which 
is  dally  decked,  by  sympathizing 
friends,  with  evergreen  and  wild  flow- 
ers from  the  adjacent  clifl*,  and  over 
which  her  disconsolate  lover  has  just 
been  pouring  forth  his  sighs  and  la- 
nentations. 

O  !  short  be  .his  sufierings,  and 
*  light  the  clay  that  presses  l^r  deli- 
«e  fonn.^  C. 

CLAUDINE. 

AN  INTSRESTIMO   SWISS  TALE« 

Happening  in  )he  month  of  July 
178S,to  be  atFerney,  which  ever  since 
the,  death  of  Voltaire  has  resembled 
one  o{  those  deserted  cistles,  which 
were  formerly  inhabited  by  genii,  I 
resolved  to  pay  a  visit  to  the  famous 
glaciers  of  Savoy.  A  friend,  an  in- 
habitant of  Geneva,  had  the  goodness 
to  accompany  me. 

In  order  to  suit  the  present  taste,  it 
woald  be  neoessary  that  I  should  a- 
dopt  that  style,  exalted,  subfime,  onin- 
telligible  to  the  profane,  which  a  sen- 
timental traveller,  after  he  has  aclvan- 
ced  two  leagues  On  his  journey,  can- 
not possibly  do  without :  I  must  speak 
of  nothing  but  my  feelings,  my  suscep- 
tibilities, and  my  ecstatic  sensations ; 
but  I  must  confess  that  those  phrases, 
although  now  so  common,  still  sound 
strange  to  my  ears.  I  have  seen 
Mount  Blanc,  the  Frozen  Sea,  and 
the  source  of  the  Averon.  I  long 
contemplated  in  sHence  those  dreadful 
«t)^ks,  covered  with  hoar  frost ;  those 
points  of  ice  which  pierce  the  clouds ; 
that»Iarge  river  which  is  called  a  sea, 
arrested  in*  the  midst  of  its  course, 
whose  solid  billows  appear  as  if  still  in 
lagitadon;  that  iipmense  vault,  formed 


£  e 


by  the  aceamnlated  snows  of  so  many 
ages,  from  whence  th^  issues  a  foam* 
ing  torrent,  forcing  in  its  passage  huge 
blocks  of  ice  over  rocky  precipices. 
The  whole  scene  impressied  on  my 
mind  a  mingled  sensation  of  terror 
and  melancholy :  methought  I  beheld 
the  horrid  scene  of  nature  without  a 
SUB,  abandoned  to  the  fury  of  the  god 
of  tempests. 

Oh,  my  good  friend  Gesner,  vou 
sang  the  shady  woods,  the  verdant 
flel^,  the  limpid  streams ;  but  sbep* 
herds  and  rural  swains  were  never 
wanting  to  inculcate  lessons  of  love,  of 
piety,  or  of  beneficence.  Reading 
you,  the  pleased  e3re  runs  over  the 
landscape  you  have  described ;  and 
the  mind,  still  more  delighted,  is  me- 
liorated by  c»eful  precepts,  and  enjoys 
a  delicious  calm. 

Such  were  the  ideas  that  empbyed 
my  hiiod  while  descending  fft>m  Mon- 
tanverd,on  my  return  from  the  Frozen 
Sea.  After  two  hours  of  a  painful 
journey,  I  arrived  at  the  fountain 
where  I  had  rested  in  the  morning. 
There  I  again  wished  to  repose  my* 
self;  for,  though  I  am  no  admirer  oi 
torrents,  I  am  very  fond  of  fountains  ; 
besides,  I  was  extremely  fatigued.  I 
intreated  my  brave  and  honest  guide, 
Francis  Paccard,  to  sit  down  by  me ; 
and  we  began  an  excellent  conversa- 
tion concerning  the  manners, .  the 
character,  and  the  mode  of  living  of 
the  inhabitants  of  Chamouny.  I  was 
pleased  with  the  good  Faccard's  ac- 
count of  those  simple  manners,  about 
which  it  b  so  pleasing  to  converse, 
were  it  only  to  regret  them,  when  a 
beautiful  girl  came  and  ofiered  me  a 
basket  of  cherries.  I  took  them,  and 
paid  her  for  them.  As  soon  as  she 
was  gone,  Paccard  said  to  me,  laugh- 
ing, ^  About  ten  years  ago,  in  this  ve- 
ry spot  where  we  now  are,  it^cost  one  ^ 
of  our  young  peasants  very*dear  for 
coming  to  ofler  a  basket  of  fhiit  to  a 
traveller."  I  begged  of  Paccard  to 
relate  the  story.  "  It  is  somewhat 
long,^'  said  he :  ^f  I  have  learned  the 
most  minute  circumstances  of  it  from 

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526 


Mi^cnxANKOud* 


the  curate  of  Salenches,  who  hiUKself 
bore  a  considerable  part  in  it."  I 
pressed  Paccard  to  relate  to  me  what 
be  had  heard  from  the  curate  of  Salen- 
ches;  and  being  both  seated  on  the 
ground,  leaning  our  backs  agaidst  two 
ash  trees,  and  eating  our  cherries, 
Paccard  thus  began  his  tale : 

<'  You  must  know,  sir,''  said  he, 
' ''  that  our  valley  of  Chamouny,  ten 
years  ago,  was  not  so  celebrated  as  it 
is  now-a-days.  Travellers  did  not 
then  come  to  give  us  their  gold  for  the 
sake  of  looking  at  frozen  snow,  and 
picking  up  our  pebbles.  We  were 
poor,  ignorant  of  evil ;  and  oar  wives 
and  daughters,  employed  in  the  cares 
of  the  family,  were  still  more  ignorant 
than  ourselves.  I  mention  this,  that 
you  may  have  some  charity  for  the 
fault  of  Claudine.  The  poor  child 
was  so  simple,  that  it  was  an  easy 
matter  t^deceive  her. 

<<  Claudine  was  the  daughter  of  old 
Simon,  a  labourer,  at  Prieure.*  This 
5in)on,  whom  I  knew  well,  for  be  has 
only  Ijeen  dead  two  years,  was  the 
syndic  of  our  parish.  All  the  country 
respected  him  for  hb  probity  \  but  his 
character  was  naturally  severe:  he 
pardoned  nothing  to  himself,  and  s^t^ 
little  to  others :  he  was  equally  es- 
teemed and  feared.  If  any  of  our 
neighboui-s  had  quarrelled  with  his 
wife,  or  drank  a  glass  too  much  on  a 
holiday,  he  would  not  have  dared  to 
Speak  to  Simon  the  whole  week. 
When  he  passed,  even  the  children 
stopped  their  noise:  they  took  off 
their  hats,  and  never  returned  to  their 
amusements  till  M.  Simon  was  at  a 
distance. 

**  Simon  had  remained  a  widower 
since  the  death  of  Madelene,  his  wffe, 
who  had  left  ii<m  two  daughters.  Na- 
nette, the  eldest,  was  well  enough ; 
but  Claudine,  the  youngest,  was  an 
anj:rel  ofbeauty.  Her  handsome  round 
countenance ;  her  black  eyes,  full  of 
animation ;  her  thick  arched  eye- 
brows ;  her  little  mouth,  the  very  pic- 

*  The  principal  village  of  the  valley  of 
Cbamouny. 


ture  of  that  cherry ;  her  appeai«aoe 
of  iDDocence  and  gaiety,  made  all  tbe 
young  men  of  our  village  her  admiters  ; 
and  when  on  a  boU^y  she  joioed  the 
dance,  with  a  vest  of  blue  cloth  closdy 
fitted  to  her  fine  shape,  her  straw  hai 
ornamented  with  ribbonds,  and  hes 
little  cap,  which  could  hardly  cootani 
her  beautiful  hair,  it  was  who  should 
have  the  honour  to  dance  with  Clm^. 
dme. 

^^  Claudine  was  only  fourteen  :  her 
sister  Nanette  was  nineteen,  and  com- 
monly remained  at  home  to  look  after 
the  affairs  of  the  family.  Claudine. 
as  being  the  youngest,  took  care  of  the 
flock  which  grazed  on  MontanverdL 
She  carried  with  her  her  dinner  and 
her  distaff,  and  passed  the  day  in  siogw 
ing,  in  spinning,  or  chatting  with  the 
other  shephercfesses.  In  the  eveninir 
she  came  home  to  Simon,  who  read 
some  portion  of  the  Bible  to  bis  daugh- 
ters, gave  them  his  blessing;  and 
then  aU4be  family  went  to  bed. 

*^  About  that  time  strangers  begaa 
to  visit  our^flaciers.  A  young  Eih 
glishman  of  the  name  of  Belton,  the 
son  of  a  rich  merchant  of  London,  in 
passing  through  Geneva  to  go  to  Italy, 
had  the  curiosity  to  make  the  tour  of 
Chamouny.  He  stopped  at  Madame 
de  Couteran's  ;♦  and  the  next  day,  at 
four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  he  ascend- 
ed Montanverd  to  see  theFroeen  Sea, 
conducted  by  my  brother  Michael, 
who  iB  now  deacon  of  the  guides.  He 
returned  about  eleven,  and  tested 
himself,  as  we  do,  by  the  side  of  this 
fountam,  when  Claudine^  who  tend^ 
her  sheep  just  by,  came  to  offer  the 
fruit  and  milk  she  had  for  her  dinner. 
The  Englishman  thanked  her,  looked 
at  her  very  attentively,  and  offered  her 
five  or  six  guineas,  which  Claudiae 
refused;  but  poor  Claudine  did  not 
refuse  to  take  Mr.  Belton  to  see  her 
flock,  which  she  had  left  among  the8<^ 
lofty  tiees.  He  desired  the  guide  ta 
wait  for  him,  and  departed  with  Clau- 
dine.    He  was  absent  for  two  long 

*  The  well-known  oame  of  the  mistress 
of  the  most  ancient  inn  at  Chamoiuiy. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


koiHrs.  As  to  ihe  sequel  of  their  con- 
venalion,  I  canaot  indeed  repeat  it  to 
you>  as  nobody  heard  it.  It  is  suffi- 
cient  to  know  that  Mr.  Belton  set  out 
the  same  eFeniog ;  and  that  Claudiiiey 
an  her  return  home  to  her  fether^  ap- 
peared pensive  and  meianehofy^  and 
bad  on  her  finger  «  beautiful  emerald 
wluch  the  Englishman  had  given  her. 
Her  sister  asked  her  where  she  got 
that  nng.  Claudine  answered  that 
she  had  found  it.  Simon,  with  a  dis- 
eentented  air^  took  the  ring,  and  carri- 
f  d  it  to  Madame  de  Couteran,  in  order 
to  discover  the  person  who  had  lost 
k.  No  traveller  ever  claimed  it.  Mr. 
Belton  was  already  far  off;  and  Clau- 
dine, to  whom  the  emerald  was  resto- 
red, became  every  day  more  melan- 
tholy. 

^^  Five  or  six  months  thus  passed 
away.  Claudine,  who  every  evening 
xetinrned  with  reddened  eyes,  at  length 
resolved  to  confide  in  her  sister  Na- 
nette. She  confessed  that  the  day 
she  met  Mr.  Belton  on  Montanverd, 
he  had  told  her  that  he  was  in  love 
with  her ;  that  he  meant  to  settle  at 
Chamouny,  never  more  to  leave  it ; 
tod  to  marry  her.  ^  I  believed  it/ 
added  Claudine,  <  for  he  swore  it  to 
Bie  more  than  a  hundred  times.  He 
said  that  business  obliged  him  to  re- 
fom  to  Geneva ;  but  that  in  a  fort- 
night he  would  again  be  here,  that  he 
would  buy  a  house,  and  that  our  mar- 
riage should  take  place  immediately. 
He  sat  down  beside  me,  called  me  his 
wife,  and  gave  me  this  beautiful  rii^ 
as  a  token  of  our  marriage.  I  dare 
BOC  tell  you  any  more,  my  sister ;  but 
J  have  many  fears ;  I  am  very  ill ;  I 
weep  all  day :  in  vain  do  I  fix  my  eyes 
CHD  the  road  to  Geneva — there  is  no 
^pearance  of  Mr.  Belton  !^ 

^<  Nanette,  who  was  rast  married, 
pressed  poor  Claudine  with  questions ; 
at  lengtb,Wter  many  tears,  she  learn- 
ed that  the  Englishman  had  basely 
betrayed  this  simple  and  unhappy 
giri ;  and  that  Claudine  was  with 
child. 

**  What  was  to  be  done  ?  How  was 


ltfSCCLLAIfB0l7».^  S8J 

it  possible  to  announce  this  misfortune 
to  the  terrible  M.  Simon  ?  To  conceal 
it  from  him  was  impossible.  The 
good  Nanette  did  not  augment  tb^ 
despair  of  her  sister  by  useless  re- 
proaches: she  even  endeavoured  to 
console  her,  by  expressing  hopes  of  a 
pardon  which  she  knew  would  not  he 
obtained.  After  long  consideration, 
Nanette,  with  her  consent,  went  to 
find  our  good  curate,  and  confided  to 
him  the  whole  secret ;  begged  him  to 
mention  it  to  her  father ;  to  endeavour 
to  appease  his  wrath ;  and  try  to  save 
the  honour,  or  at  least  the  life,  of  the 
unhappy  victim  of  deceit.  Our  cu- 
rate was  much  hurt  at  the  news :  be 
however  undertook  the  task,  and  re- 
paired to  the  house  of  Simon  at  the 
time  when  he  was  sure  Claudine 
woold  be  opon  Montanverd. 

<<  Simon  was  as  usual  reading  the 
Old  Testament.  Our  good  curate  sat 
down  by  him,  and  be^n  to  talk  of 
the  beautiful  stories  which  are  con- 
tained in  that  divine  book :  he  dwelf 
particularly  on  that  of  Joseph,  when 
he  pardons  his  brethren ;  on  that  of 
the  great  king  David,  when  he  par- 
dons his  son  Absalom,  and  many  otiv 
ers  I  do  not  know,  but  are  well  known 
to  the  curate.  Simon  was  of  the  same 
opinion.  The  curate  said,  that  God 
had  given  us  these  examples  of  mercy, 
that  we  in  like  manner,  being  com* 
passionate  to  others,  might,  at  the  last 
day,  expect  to  find  mercy  from  the 
FatKer  of  all.  All  this  was  said  in  a 
much  better  manner  than  I  can  tell  it 
to  you ;  but  yon  may  easily  conceive 
that  our  curate  endeavoured  to  pre- 
pare the  old  man  for  the  reception  of 
his  bad  news.  He  was  long  of  com- 
prehending him ;  at  last  he  did :  and 
starting  up,  pale,  and  trembling  with 
rage,  he  seized  the  musket  with  which 
he  used  to  hunt  the  chamois,  and  was 
rushing  forth  to  kill  his  daughter. 
The  curate  threw  himself  upon  him, 
and  disarmed  him ;  and  by  rousing 
his  attention  to  the  duties  of  a  Chris'' 
tian,  by  lamenting  his  misfortunes, 
and  sharing  in  his  grief,  he  at  lengtk 

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228 


^mgcaOLANBOtS. 


prevailed  so  far,  that  old  SimoD,  whose 
eyes  had  been  hitherto  dry,  his  lips 
pdcy  and  his  whole  frame  convulsed, 
sunk  back  into  his  chair,  covered  his 
face  with  his  two  hands,  and  burst 
ioto  tears. 

(To  be  continued.) 


THE  EYE  OF  MAN. 

PBOM  CBALI1KB*8  OISGOURSXS. 

There  is  a  limit,  across  which  man 
cannot  carry  one  of  his  perceptions, 
mod  from  the  ulterior  of  which  he  can- 
not gather  a  single  observation,  to 
guide  or  to  inform  him. 

While    he  keeps    by  the  objects 
which  are  near,  he  can  get  the  know- 
ledge of  them  conveyed  to  his  mind 
through  the  ministry  of  several  of  the 
senses.     He  can  feel  a  substance  that 
is  withm  reach  of  his  hand.     He  can 
smell  a  flower  that  is  presented  to 
him.     He  can  taste  the  food  that  is 
before  him.     He  can  hear  a  sound 
of  certain  pitch  and  intensity ;  and  so 
much  does  this  sense  of  hearing  widen 
his  intercourse  with  external  nature, 
that  from  the  dbtance  of  miles,  it  can 
bring  him  in  an  occasional  intimation. 
But  of  all  the  tracks  of  conveyance 
which  God  has  been  pleased  to  open 
up  between  the  mind  of  roan  and  the 
theatre  by  which   he  is  surrounded, 
there  is  none  by  which  he  so  multiplies 
his  acquaintance  with  the  rich  and 
varied  creation  on  every  side  of  him, 
as  by  the  organ  of  the  eye.     It  is  this 
which  gives  to  him  his  loftiest  com- 
mand over  the  scenery  of  nature.     It 
is  this  by  which  so  broad  a  range  of 
observation  is  submitted  to  him.     It  is 
this  which  enables  him,  by  the  act  of 
a  single  moment,  to  send  an  exploring 
look  over  the  surface  of  an  ample  ter- 
ritory, to  crowd  his  mind  with  the 
wh<de  assembly  of  its  objects,  and  to 
fill  his  vision  with  those  countless  hues 
which  diversify  and  adorn  it.    It  is 
this  which  carries  him  abroad  over  all 
that  is  sublime  in  the  immensity  of 
distance  J  which  sets  him,  as  it  were, 


on  an  elevated  pbUferm^fromiHiflBC^ 
he  may  cast  a  surveying  glance  over 
the  arena  of  innumerable    worlds  ; 
which  spreads  before  him  so  mighty 
a  province  of  contemplation,  that  tlie 
eartli  he  inhabiu  only  appears  to  fur- 
nish him  with  the  pedestal  on  which, 
he  may  stand,  and  from  which  he 
may  descry  the  wonders  of  all  thai 
magnificence  which  ^e  Divinity  has 
poiu^  so  abundantly  around  him.   It 
IS  by  the  narrow  outlet  of  the  eye,  tb«t 
the  mind  of  man  takes  its  excursive 
flight  over  those  golden  tracks  wbere, 
in  all  the  exhaustlessneas  of  creative 
wealth,  lie  scattered  the  suns,  and 
systems  of  astronomy.     But  oh  !  hew 
good  a  thing  it  b,  and  how  becomiiig 
well,  for  tl^  philosopher  to  be  hum- 
ble even  amid  the  proudest  march  of 
human  discovery,  and  the  sublimest 
triumphs  of  the  human  understanding, 
when  he  thinks  of  that  unsealed  baup- 
rier,  beyond  which  no  power,  either  id 
the  eye  or  of  the  telesope  shall  carry 
him ;  when  he  thinks  that  on  the  oth- 
er side  of  it  there  is  a  height,  and  a 
depth,  and  a  length,  and  a  breadth,  lo 
which  the  whole  of  this  concave  and 
visible  firmament  dwindles  into  the 
insignificancy  of  an  atom :  and  above 
all,  how  ready  should  he  be  to  cait 
his  every  lofty  imagination  away  fraai 
him,  when  he  thiuks  of  the  God, 
who,  on  the  simple  foundation  of  fail 
word,  has  reared  the  whole  of  this 
stately  architecture ;  and,  by  the  font 
of  his  persevering  hand,  continues  to 
uphold  it ;  aye,  and  should  the  word 
again  come  out  firom  him,  that  this 
earth  should  pass  away,  and  a  portkni 
of  the  heavens  which  are  around  it, 
shall  again  fall  back  into  the  anaifailft- 
tion  from  which  he  at  first  summoned 
them ;  what  an  impressive    rebidce 
does  it  bring  on  the  swelling  vanity  of 
science,  to  think  that  the  whole  fidd 
of  its  most  ambitious  ente^nrise  may 
be  swept  away  altogether,  and  there 
remain  before  the  eye  of  him  who  »t- 
teth  on  the  thnme,  an  untravelled  im- 
mensity, which  he  hath  filled  with  in- 
numerable splendomv,  and  over  the 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


|flfCSLLANBOUS« 


229 


^Mt  faee  of  wbidi  be  hath  inscribed 
die  evidence  of  his  high  attributes,  in 
all  their  might,  and  in  all  their  mani- 
festtUioD. 

But  man  has  a  great  deal  more  to 
keep  him  humble  of  his  understand- 
fl^,  than  a  mere  sense  of  that  bound- 
ary which  skirts,  and  which  termi- 
■ates  the  material  fidd  of  his  contem- 
pbtioos.     He  ought  also  to  feel  how, 
withio  that  boundary,  the  vast  major- 
ity of  things  b  mysterious  and  un- 
known to  lum ;  that  even  in  the  inner 
Channfoer  of  his  own  consciousness, 
where  so  much  lies  hidden  from  the 
observatioD  of  others,  there  b  also  to 
hinuelf  a  Httle  world  of  incomprehen- 
sibles;  that  if,  stepping  beyond  the 
fimits  of  this  fauniliar  home,  he  looks 
BO  ftuther  than  to  the  members  of  hb 
funily,  there  is  much  in  the  cast  and 
the  colour  of  every  mind,  that  b  above 
hb  powers  of  divination ;  that  in  pro- 
portioB  as  he  recedes  from  the  centre 
of  hb  own  personal  experience,  there 
b  a  cloud  of  ignorance  and  secrecy, 
idacfa    spreads,  and    thickens,    and 
throws  a  deep  and  impenetrable  veil 
over  the  intricacies  of  every  one  de- 
partment of  human  contemplation; 
that  of  all  around  him,  his  knowledge 
is  naked  and  superficial,  and  confined 
to  a  few  of  those  more  conspicuous 
lineaments  which  strike  upon  hb  sen- 
ses ;  ^at  the  whde  feKse,  both  of  na^ 
lure  and  society,  presents  him  with 
questions  which  he  cannot  unriddle, 
and  tdb  him  how  beneath  the  surface 
of  all  that  the  eye  can  rest  upon,  there 
liies  the  profoundness  of  a  most  un- 
searchable latency;  .Aye,  and  should 
he^  in  some  lofty  enterprise  of  thought, 
leave  this  world,  and  shoot  afar  into 
those  tracks  of  specidation  which  as- 
tronomy has  opened ;  should  he,  baf- 
4ed  by  the  mysteries  which  beset  his 
every  footstep  upon  earth,  attempt  an 
ambitious  flight  toward  the  mysteries 
^f  Heaven :  let  him  go,  but  let  the 
jiBrtness  of  a  pious  and  philosophical 
modesty  go  along  with  him :  let  him 
forget  not,  that  from  the  moment  his 
jmnd  hfti  taken  its  ascending  way  for 


a  few  little  miles  above  the  world  he 
treads  upon,  his  every  sense  abandons 
bfan  but  one ;  that  number,  and  mo^ 
tion,  and  magnitude,  and  figure,  make* 
up  all  the  barrenness  of  its  elem.entary 
infbrmations ;  that  these  orbs  have 
sent  him  ^carce  another  message,  than 
told  by  their  feeble  glimmering  upon 
his  eye,  the  simple  fact  of  their  ex- 
istence; that  he  sees  not  the  land- 
scape of  other  worlds ;  that  he  knows 
not  the  moral  system  of  any  one  of 
them ;  nor  athwart  the  long  and  track- 
less vacancy  which  lies  between,  does 
there  fall  upon  his  listening  ear,  the 
hum  of  their  mighty  populations. 

THE  SLUTTISH  WIFE. 

As  I  am  to  a  fauh  fond  of  neatness, 
and  even  elegance  in  the  dress  of  the 
fair  sex,  I  shall  not  pretend  to  vindi- 
cate altogether  their  carelessness  in 
thb  respect ;  yet  I  think  a  little  may 
be  said  in  their  favour,  and  that  the 
fault  does  not  solely  rest  with  them. 
It  is  but  too  often  the  case  with  the 
generality  of  husbands,    when   they 
have  gained  the  heart  and  afiections 
of  a  deservii^  female,  and  when  after 
the  honey-moon  b  over,  that  they 
treat  them  with  so  much  indifference, 
and  merely  as  a  sort  of  upper  ser- 
vants, that  a  woman  of  any  spirit  can 
never  brook,  and  which  she  conceives 
to  be  totally  incompatible  with  the 
ideas  of  equality  and  reciprocity  of 
affection  and  tenderness  :   some   by 
this  treatment  are  forced  to  seek  their 
company  and  amusements  in  other  pla- 
ces than  home;  and  surely  it  is  no 
wonder,  when  they  find  their  tender- 
ness and  affection  treated  with  neglect, 
perhaps  disdain.     Others  of  a  more 
serious  and  domestic  turn,  are  so  dis^ 
heartened,  that  they  grow  quite  indif- 
ferent about  society,  and  careless  of 
themselves  and  families :  ashamed  to 
complain,  or  let  the  world  know  their 
unhappy  situation,  (and  it  must  be  truly 
so  to  a  susceptible  mind)  they  court 
solitude  and  retirement,  brooding  over 
the  bitter  reflection.    Instead  of  the 

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230 


liflSGELtANKOtf* 


kind  and  attentive  hosband,  they  find 
perhaps  they  have  got  the  muddling 
80ty  "who  loiters  away  his  leisure  hours 
in  a  coflee-house  or  a  tavern,  hours 
which  a  virtuous  wife  thinks  she  may 
without  presumption  claim  a  right  to, 
and  only  favours  his  family  with  his 
company  when  all  others  fail,  or  when 
satiated  with  his  common  routine. 
And  now,  sir,  what  a  comfortable 
companion,  must  such  a  man  be  to  a 
sensible  woman  !  yet  these  very  men 
will  not  be  backward  in  their  animad- 
versions, and  may  perhaps  be  joined 
by  their  pot  companions,  against  a 
woman,  who  from  ill  treatment,  has 
lost  aU  heart  to  care  about  her  dress 
or  family  concerns,  which  she  other- 
wise undoubtedly  would  do,  were  she 
used  with  kindness.  This  much  may 
be  said  for  the  fair  sex:  that  if. men 
were  only  'as  loving,  attentive,  and 
solicitious  after  marriage  to  retain,  as 
as  they  are  before  to  win,  the  a^ec- 
tion  of  a  virtuous  woman,  I  am  convin- 
ced, that  not  one  husband  in  a  thou- 
sand would  find  any  cause  to  complain. 
The  fault  lies  most  commonly  with 
themselves  :  let  a  woman  be  treated 
with  kindness,  attention,  and  respect, 
and  be  assured  she  will  make  a  most 
liberal  and  generous  return,  leaving  no 
shadow  of  complaint  of  being  a  slut- 
tish wife. 

THE  FUNERAL. 

How  deeply  interesting  and  impres- 
sive to  the  reflecting  mind  is  the  pas- 
sing funeral.  The  eye  is  struck  by 
the  appearance  of  a  long  and  mourn- 
ful train,  shrouded  in  the  sad  habili- 
ments of  grief,  moving  with  a  slow 
and  measured  step,  preceded  by  the 
car  of  death,  dressed  with  the  embel- 
lishments of  funeral  ceremony ;  while 
the  deep  and  solemn  tones  of  the  dis- 
tant bell  fall  on  the  ear  at  intervals, 
and  cause  the  blood  to  recede  to  the 
heart.  We  ask  with  hesitation  and 
awe,  why  is  this  ?  And  why  is  it  ?  It 
is  because  death  has  again  triumphed 
over  man.    On  yonder  hearse  is  an- 


other victim  of  this  insane  apoiUTf - 
another  trophy  of  his  victory.     An- 
other   mortal  is  going  to   hk  long 
home,  that  dark  and  narrow  hooae^ 
the  grave ;  and  another  spirit  has  pas- 
sed to  the  mansions  of  immortality* 
A  few  days  since,  and  what  is  now 
cold  and  lifeless,  was  warm  and  ani- 
mated.    What  is  now  so  loathsome 
that  the  earth  must  cover  it,  was  flit- 
ting about  in  the  joy  of  health,  de^ 
lighting  and  delighted ;  but  the  spoiler 
came,  and  where  is  he  ?    Riches  per- 
haps he  possessed,  but  riches  couki 
not  purchase  his  ransom ;  friends,  oo 
doubt  he  had,  who  woukl  have  laid 
down  their  lives  in  his  defence,  but 
they  could  not  -save  him.     Hope  pro- 
bably cheered,  and  bid  him  look  for- 
ward to  future  hours  of  happiness  |^ 
but  hope  deceived  him.     Health,  that 
Heaven  born  blessing  had  flown,  nor 
could  all  the  eflbrto  of  man  recal  it  for 
a  movent.    The  icy  hand  of  death 
passed  over  him,  and  while  the  soul 
winged  its  way  to  eternity,  the  frail 
covering  it  tenanted,  retlimed  to  the 
dust.     Alas  !   how  uncertain  is  the 
tenure  of  life ;  not  a  moment  can  we 
<M  our  own ;  not  a  coming  day  caa 
we  look  to  with  certainty,  for  evea 
this  night  our  souls  may  be  required 
of  us ;  even  in  this  hour,  we  may  be 
as  lifeless  as  he  who  now  occupies  the 
few  feet  of  ground  allotted  as  the  laal 
receptacle  of  man.     How  awful,  how 
tremendously  awful  would  this  appear, 
if  the  grave  was  indeed  our  last  home ; 
if  that  terminated  all  our  prospects, 
and  shut  forever  the  golden  hope  of 
perfect  happiness  from  our  sight.  But, 
thanks  to  Him  who  made  us,   the 
grave  is  not  our  final  home.     We  are 
IMMORTAL — and  if  we  follow  the  steps 
of  our  divine  Redeemer,    we  shall 
awake  from  the  darkness  of  death  te 
the  glorious  light  of  eternal  life,  and 
never    failing  felicity.      Then    why 
should  we  mourn  for  the  frailty  of 
man.    Why  despond,  because  be  is 
called  from  pain  and  care  to  the  great 
object  of  his  search,  happiness.     We 
shall  soon  follow  him..    JMoum  nok 

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231 


tii€ii,  nor  repuie,  but  trust  in  God, 
and  lay  up  thy  riches  in  Heaven ;  for 
why  should  our  hopes  and  wishes  cen- 
tre here,  why  should  we  sacrifice  our 
everlasting  welfore  for  the  enjoyment 
ef  a  life  so  uncertain  and  transitory  as 
«Brs  ?  Let  us  consider  that  our  terra 
is  but  threescore  years  and  ten.  And 
that  the  umted  ages  of  every  beii^ 
that  ever  bad  existence,  will  amount 
to  nothing  in  comparison  with  eterni- 
ty.   Let  us  consider-— and  be  wise. 

HENRY  IV,  OF  FRANCE. 

When  Henry  IV,  of  France  was 
advised  to  attempt  takipg  Paris  by  an 
assault,  before  the  king  of  Spain's 
troops  arrived  to  succour  his  leaguers, 
be  absolutely  protested  against  the 
measure,  on  the  principle  of  humanity. 
^  I  will  not,''  said  he,  "  expose  the 
capital  to  the  miseries  and  horrors 
which  must  follow  such  an  event.  I 
am  the  father  of  my  people,  and  will 
ibilow  the  el^ample  of  the  true  mother, 
who  presented  herself  before  Solo- 
moo.  I  had  much  rather  not  haVe 
Paris,  than  obtain  it  at  the  expence  of 
jbumanity,  and  by  the  blood  and  death 
4>f  so  many  innocent  persons. 

Henry  reduced  the  city  to  obedience 
without  the  loss  of  more  than  two  or 
three  burgesses^  who  were  killed. 
^  If  it  was  m  my  power,"  said  this 
bumane  monarch,  "I  wouWgive  My 
tboosand  crowns  to  redeem  those  citi- 
ceos,  to  have  the  satisfaction  of  in- 
forming posterity,  that  I  had  subdued 
Paris  without  spilling  a  drop  of 
t^ood.''  ' 

EMPEROR  FRANCIS  11. 

One  arm  of  the  Danube  separates 
the  city  of  Vienna  from  a  large  sub- 
urb caUed  Leopoldstadt.  A  th^w  in- 
mdated  this  suburb,  and  the  ice  car- 
ried away  the  bridge  of  communica- 
ticMi  with  the  capital.  The  popula- 
tioo  of  Leopoldstadt  began  to  be  in 
the  greatest  distress  for  want  of  provi- 
A  number  «f  boate  were  col- 


lected and  loaded  with  liread,  but  no 
one  felt  hardy  enough  to  risk  the  pas- 
sage, which  was  rendered  extremely 
dangerous  by  large  bodies  of  ice. 
Francis  the  Second,  who  was  then  em- 
peror, stood  at  the  water's  edge ;  he 
begged,  exhorted,  threatened,  and 
promised  the  highest  recbmpences^ 
but  all  in  vsun ;  whibt  on  the  other 
shore,  his  subjects  famishing  with 
hunger  stretched  forth  their  hands 
and  supplicated  relief.  The  mon- 
arch's sensibility  at  length  got  the 
better  of  his  prudence;  he  leaped 
singly  into  a  boat  loaded  with  bread, 
and  applied  himself  %o  the  oars,  ex- 
claiming, **  Never  shall  it  be  said  that 
I  made  no  effort  to  save  those,  who 
would  risk  their  all  for  me."  The  ex- 
ample of  the  sovereieii,  sudden  as 
electricity,  inflamed  the  spectators, 
who  threw  themselves  in  crowds  into 
the  boats.  They  encountered  the  sea 
successfully,  and  gained  the  suburb 
just  when  their  intrepid'  monarch, 
with  the  tear  of  pity  in  his.eye,  held 
out  the  bread  he  had  conveyed  a€ros;!( 
at  the  risk  of  his  Dfe. 


ARCHDUKE  CHARLES. 

WTicn  the  Archduke  Charles  was 
on  his  way  from  Bohemia,  to  take 
comraand  of  the  Austrian  army,  he 
met  near  the  scene  of  action  a  number 
of  wounded  soldiers,  who  had  been 
abandoned  by  their  commander  on  the 
road,  for  want  of  horses  to  draw  theii: 
carriages  in  the  retreat.  The  prince, 
who  on  many  occasions  has  exhibited 
striking  instances  of  humanity,  imme* 
diately  ordered  the  horses  to  be  taken 
from  several  pieces  of  cannon,  that 
were  akeady  retreating,  saying,  ^  the 
lile  of  one  brave  man  is  better  wortb 
preserving,  than  fifty  pieces  of  ord- 
nance." When  general  Moreau,  into 
whose  hands  the  cannon  thus  aban- 
doned had  fallen,  heard  of  the  motive 
that  had  prompted  the  sacrifice,  he 
ordered  the  whole  to  be  restored,  ob- 
serving, that  he  should  be  unwoithy 
of  being  the  opponent  of  his  imperisa 

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232 


inSCELLANBOtJfl* 


Bighnessy  if  Ke  todc  any  advantage  of 
so  noble  an  act  of  humanity. 

INSTINCT. 

A  German  count  had  a  vcir  valua- 
ble dog,  a  large  and  noble-looking  an- 
imal ;  in  some  description  of  field- 
sports  he  tvas  reckoned  exceeding  use- 
ful, and  a  iiriend  of  the  count's  applied 
for  the  loan  of  the  dog  for  a  few  weeks' 
excursion  in  the  country :  it  was  grant- 
ed; and,  in  the  course  of  the  rambles, 
the  dog,  by  a  fall,  either  dislocated  or 
gave  a  severe  fracture  to  -one  of  his 
legs.  The  borrower  of  the  dog  was 
in  the  greatest  alarm,  knowing  well 
how  greatly  *  the  count  valued  htm  ^ 
and,  fearing  to  disclose  the  fact, 
brought  him  secretly  to  the  count's 
surgeon,  a  skilful  man,  to  restore  the 
limb.  After  some  weeks'  applica- 
tion, the  surgeon  succeeded,  the  dog 
was  returned,  and  all  was  well.  A 
month  or  six  weeks  after  this  period, 
the  surgeon  was  sitting  gravely  in  his 
closet,  pursuing  bis  studies,  when  he 
heard  a  violent  scratching  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  door;  he  rose,  and,  on 
opening  it,  to4iis  surprise,  he  saw  the 
dog,  his  late  patient,  before  him,  in 
company  with  another  dog,  who  had 
broken  his  leg,  and  was  thus  brought 
by  his  friend  to  be  cured  in  th&«ame 
manner. 

I  have  heard  before  now  a  futner 
say,  that  he  had  a  horse  in  his  stable, 
who  always,  on  losing  hit  dioe,  went 
of  his  own  accord  to  a  farrier's  shop, 
a  mile  ofi";  but  I  never  yet  heard  of  a 
horse  taking  anoUier  horse  to  a  farrier 
ibr  the  purpose.  In  the  case  of  the 
dogs,  there  must  have  been  a  commu- 
nication of  ideas ;  they  must  have 
come  to  a  conclusion  before  they  set 
out ;  they  must  have  reasoned  togeth- 
er on  the  way,  discussing  the  merits 
of  the  surgeon,  and  the  nature  of  the 
wound. 

SHEPHERDS  OF  THE  LANDES. 

The  following  description  of  the 
shepherds  of  the  Landes,  in  the  south 


of  France,  is  extracted  frwn  a  kttar  qf 
Thomas  Maynard,  Esq.  to  the  editor 
of  the  Journal  of  Arts  and  Sciences. 

"  This  tract  of  country  lies  between 
the  mouths  of  the  Adour  and  the  Gi- 
rone,  along  the  sea  coast ;  and,  ao- 
cording  to  tradition,  was  once  the  bed 
of  the  sea  itself,  which  flowed  in  as 
far  as  Dax.*  Through  this  district 
the  guards  marched  from  Bayonne,  at 
the  conclusion  of  the  war  in  June^ 
1 814,  to  embark  at  Bordeaux  lliis 
afforded  us  an  opportunity  of  seeing  a 
country  seldom  visited  by  travellers. 
It  is  a  bed  of  sand,  flat,  in  the  strictest 
sense  of  the  word,  and  abounding  with 
extensive  pine  woods.  These  woods 
afibrd  turpentihe,  resin,  and  charcoal^ 
for  trade,  as  well  as  a  sort  of  candles, 
used  by  the  peasantry,  made  of  yarn 
dipt  in  the  turpentine.  This  road  it 
through  the  sand,  unaltered  by  art^ 
except  where  it  is  so  loose  and  de^ 
as  to  require  the  truAks  of  the  fir-treeas 
to  be  laid  across,  to  give  it  firmness* 
The  villages  and  hamlets  stand  on 
spots  of  fertile  ground,  scattered  like 
islands  among .  the  sands.  The  ajv 
pearance  of  a  corn-field  on  each  side 
of  the  road,ienced  by  er^en  hedges,  a 
clump  of  trees  at  a  Uttle  distance,  and 
the  spire  of  a  rustic  church  tapering 
ttom  among  them,  i;ave  notice  of  our 
approach  to  &n  inhabited  spot.  On 
entering  the  villages,  we  found  neat 
white  c<4tagesy  scattored  along  a  bit  of 
green,  surrounded  by  well  cultivated 
gardens  and  orchards,  and  shaded  by 
fine  old  oaks  and  walnuts.  Through 
the  centre  of  the  village,  a  brook  of 
the  clearest  water  was  always  seen 
running  amongst  meadows  and  hav- 
fields,  and  forming  a  most  grale&l 
contrast  to  the  heat  and  dust  of  the 
sandy  road,  ft  was  between  the  vil- 
lages of  Castel  and  La  Buharre  that 
we  first  saw  these  shepherds,  mounted 
on  stilts,  and  striding,    like  storks, 

•  This  is  not  the  only  change.  The  riv- 
er Adonr  also  has  altered  its  course :  the 
old  bed  of  the  river  is  marked  by  an  exieo.' 
sive  lake  and  morass  to  the  north  of  the 
present  course,  and  along  the  high  road  U^ 
Dax. 


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MISCBLLANCOUS. 


233 


along  the  flat.  These  stilts  raise  them 
horn  three  to  five  feet :  the  foot  rests 
on  a  surface,  adapted  to  its  sole,  carv- 
ed out  of  the  solid  wood  ;  a  flat  part, 
shaped  to  the  outside  of  the  leg,  and 
reaching  to  below  the  bend  of  the 
knee,  is  strapped  round  the  calf  and 
ankle.  The  foot  is  covered  by  a  piece 
of  raw  sheep's  hidel  In  these  stilts. 
they  move  with  perfect  freedom^  and 
astonishing  rapidity;  and  they  have 
their  balance  so  completely,  that  they 
run,  jnmp,  stoop,  and  even  dance, 
wkh  ease  and  safety.  We  made  them 
run  races  for  a  piece  of  money,  put  on 
a  stone  on  the  ground,  to  which  they 
poanced  down  with  surprising  quick- 
ness. They  cannot  stand  quite  still, 
without  the  aid  a(  a  long  staff*,  which 
they  always  carry  in  their  hands. 
This  guards  them  against  any  acci- 
dental trip,  and  when  they  wish  to  be 
at  rest,  forms  a  third  leg,  that  keeps 
^m  steady.  The  habit  of  using  the 
stilts  is  acquired  early,  and  it  appeared 
that  the  smaller  the  boy  was,  the  lon- 
ler  it  was  necessary  to  have  his  stilts. 
By  means  of  these  odd  additions  to  the 
natural  leg,  the  feet  are  kept  out  of  the 
water,  which  lies  deep  during  winter 
•n  the  sands,  and  from  the  heated 
sand  during  the  summer :  in  addition 
to  which,  the  sphere  of  vision  over  so 
perfect  a  flat  is  materially  increased 
by  the  elevation,  and  the  shepherd 
can  see  his  sheep  much  farther  on  stilts 
than  he  could  from  the  ground.  Tliis 
department  of  France  is  little  known, 
and  if  what  I  have  here  related  be  as 
new  to  your  readers  as  it  was  to  me  at 
the  time  I  first  saw  them,  this  descrip- 
tion may  possibly  afibrd  them  some 
amusement. 

I  remain,  dear  sir,  &c.  &c« 

THOMAS  HAXNAKD.^ 


PERSEVERANCE. 

it  b  not  generally  known  that  the 
extraordinary  perseverance,  which 
vas  the  feature  most  remarkably  dis- 
played in  Timour's  character,  during 
a  fifty  years  co&tiaued  sedes  of  battl^^ 


was  excited  first  by  a  better  cause 
than  excouraged  Robert  Bruce  to  sim- 
ilar exertions.  "  I  once,"  said  Ti- 
mour,  ^^  was  forced  to  take  shelter 
from  my  enemies  in  a  ruined  building, 
where  I  sat  alone  many  hours.  De- 
sir  ine  to  divert  my  mind  from  my 
hopeless  condition,  I  fixed  my  obser- 
vation on  an  ant  that  was  carrying  a 
S^ain  of  corn  larger  than  itself  up  a 
high  walL  If  numbered  the  efiforts  it 
made  to  accomplish  this  object.  The 
grain  fell  sixty-nine  times  to  the 
ground;  but  the  insect  still  perseve- 
red, and  the  seventieth  time  it  reached 
the  top  of  the  wall.  This  sight  gav^ 
me  courage  at  the  moment,  and  I  have 
never  forgotten  the  lesson  it  convey- 
ed/> 


AUDLET,  THE  UStJRER. 

A  person  whose  history  will  serve 
as  a  canvas  to  exhibit  some  scenes  of 
the  arts  of  the  money-trader,  was  one 
Audiey,  a  lawyer,  and  a  great  practi- 
cal philosopher,  who  concentrated  his 
vigorous  faculties  ip  the  science  of  the 
relative  value  of  money.  He  flourish- 
ed through  the  reigns  of  James  I, 
Charles  I,  and  held  a  lucrative  office 
in  the  *  court  of  wards,'  till  that  sin- 
gular court  was  abolished  at  the  time 
of  the  restoration.  In  his  own  times 
he  was  called  '  the  great  Audiey ;'  an 
epithet  so  often  abused,  and  here  ap- 
plied to  the  creation  of  enormous 
wealth.  But  there  are  minds  of  great 
capacity,  concealed  by  the  nature  of 
their  pursuits ;  and  the  wealth  of  Aud- 
iey may  be  considered  as  the  cloudy 
medium  through  which  a  bright  ge> 
nius  shone,  who,  had  it  been  thrown 
into  a  nobler  sphere  of  action,  the 
^  greatness'  would  have  been  less  aio- 
biguous. 

This  genius  of  thirty  per  cent  first 
had  proved  the  decided  vigour  of  his 
mind,  by  his  enthi^siastic  devotion  to 
his  law  studies ;  deprived  of  his  leis- 
ure for  study  through  his  busy  day,  he 
stole  the  hours  from  his  late  nigbta 
and  to  «riy  »«»l^^^^,rtlh«.,t 


i34 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


the  means  to  procure  a  law-library,  he 
iovented  a  method  to  possess  one  with- 
out the  cost ;  as  fast  as  he  learned,  he 
taught ;  and,  by  publishing  some  use- 
ful tracts  on  temporary  occasions,  he 
was  enabled  to  purchase  a  library. — 
He  appears  never  to  have  read  a  book 
without  its  furnishing  him  with  some 
new  practical  design,  and  he  probably 
studied  too  much  for  his  own  particu- 
lar advantage.  Such  devoted  studies 
was  the  way  to  become  a  lord  chan- 
cellor :  but  the  science  of  the  law  was 
here  subordinate  to  that  of  a  money- 
trader. 

When  yet  but  a  clerk  to  the  clerk 
in  the  counter,  frequent  opportunities 
occurred,  which  Audley  knew  how  to 
improve.  He  became  a  money  tra- 
der as  he  had  become  a  law-writer, 
and  the  fears  and  follies  of  mankind 
were  to  furnish  him  with  a  trading 
capital.  The  fertility  of  his  genius 
appeared  in  expedients  and  in  quick 
contrivances.  He  was  sure  to  be  the 
friend  of  all  men  falling  out.  He 
took  a  deep  concern  in  the  affairs  of 
6f  his  master's  clients,  and  often  much 
more  than  they  were  aware  of.  No 
man  so  ready  at  procuring  bail  or 
compounding  debts.  Thb  was  a  con- 
siderable traffic  then,  as  now.  They 
hired  themselves  out  for  bail,  swore 
what  was  required,  and  contrived  to 
give  false  addresses.  It  seems  they 
dressed  themselves  out  for  the  occa- 
sion :  a  great  seal-ring  flamed  on  the 
finger,  which,  however,  was  pure  cop- 
per, gilt,  and  often  assumed  the  name 
of  some  person  of  good  credit.  Sav- 
ings, and  small  presents  for  gratuitous 
opinions,  often  afterwards  discovered 
to  be  very  fallacious  ones,  enabled  him 
to  purchase  annuities  of  easy  landhold- 
ers, with  their  treble  amount  secured 
on  their  estates.  The  improvident 
owners,  or  the  careless  heirs,  were  en- 
tangled in  theusurer^s  nets :  and  after 
the  receipt  of  a  few  years,  the  annui- 
ty, by  some  latent  quibble,  or  some  ir- 
regularity in  the  payments,  usually 
entied  in  Audley's  obtaining  the  treble 
forfeiture.    He  could  at  all  thnes  out- 


knave  a  knave.  One  of  these  inci- 
dents has  been  preserved,  A  draper 
of  no  honest  reputation,  being  arrested 
by  a  merchant  for  a  debt  of  two  hun- 
dred pounds,  Audley  bought  the  debt 
at  (brtv  pounds,  for  which  the  draper 
immediately  offered  him  ^hy»  But 
Audley  would  not  consent,  unless  the 
draper  indulged  a  sudden  whim  of  ht^ 
own :  this  was  a  formal  contract,  that 
the  draper  should  pay,  within  twenty 
years,  upon  twenty  certain  days,  a 
penny  doubled.  A  knave  in  haste  to 
sign,  is  no  calculator  :  and  as  the  co- 
temporary  dramatist  describes  one  of 
the  arts  of  those  citizens,  one  part  of 
whose  business  was 

<  To  swear  and  break :  they  all  grow  rich 

by  breaking  V  s 

the  draper  eagerly  compounded.  He 
aflerwairds  *  grew  rich.'  Audley,  si- 
lently watching  his  victim,  within  two 
years,  claims  his  doubled  pennies,  ev- 
ery month  during  twenty  months. — 
The  pennies  had  now  grown  up  to 
pounds.  The  knave  perceived  the 
trick,  and  preferred  paying  the  forfeit- 
ure of  his  bond  for  ^s^  hundred  pounds 
rather  than  to  receive  the  visitation  of 
all  the  little  generation  of  compound 
interest  in  the  last  descendant  of  twd 
thousand  pounds,  which  would  have 
closed  with  the  draper's  shop.  The 
inventive  genius  of  Audley  might 
have  illustrated  that  popular  tract  of 
his  own  times,  Peacham's  *  Worth  of 
a  Penny ;'  a  gentleman,  who,  having 
scarcely  one  left,  consoled  himseU' 
by  detailing  the  numerous  comforts 
<^  life  it  might  procure  in  the  days  of 
Charles  H. 

This  philosophical  usurer  never 
pressed  hard  for  his  debts ;  like  the 
fowler,  he  never  shook  his  nets  lest 
he  might  startle, satisfied  to  have  them, 
without  appearing  to  hold  them. — 
With  gireat  fondness  he  compared  his 

<  bonds  to  infants,  which  battle  best 
by  sleeping.'  JTo  battle  is  to  be 
nourished,  a  term  still  retained  at  the 
university  of  Oxford.  His  familiar 
companions  were  all  subordinate  ac- 


BifSCXLLAKBOUf. 


2S5 


£ormmg ;  ke  too  had  hit  part  in  the 
scene.  When  not  taken  by  surprise, 
oo  his  table  usually  lie  opened  a  great 
,  Bible,  with  bishop  Andrew's  folio  ser- 
,  SBOQS,  which  often  gave  him  an  oppor* 
tnnity  of  railing  at  the  covetousness 
«f  the  clergy  J  declaring  their  religion 
was  '  a  laere  preachy'  ano  that  ^  the 
dme  would  never  be  well  till  \#e  had 
queen  EUizabeth's  protestants  again  in 
fasfaioa.'  He  was  aware  of  all  the 
evils  arising  out  of  a  population  be- 
yond the  means  of  subsistence,  and 
dreaded  an  inundation  of  men,  spread- 
ing like  the  spawn  of  a  cod.  Hence 
I  he  coosidared  marriage  with  a  modem 
I  political  eocnoinist,  us  very  danger- 
ous; bitterly  censuring  the  clergy, 
whose  children  he  said  never  thrived, 
and  whose  widows  were  left  destitute. 
An  apostolical  life,  according  to  Aud- 
kj,  required  only  bodes,  meat,  and 
drink,  to  be  had  for  fifty  pounds  a 
year  I  Celibacy,  voluntary  poverty, 
and  all  the  mortifications  of  a  primi- 
tive Christian,  were  the  virtues  prac- 
tised by  this  puritan  among  his  money 
bags. 

Ifet  Audley's  was  that  worldly  wis- 
dom which  derives  all  its  strength 
IroBA  the  weaknesses  of  mankind.—- 
Every  thing  was  to  be  obtained  by 
stratagem,  and  it  was  his  maxim,  that, 
to  grasp  our  object  the  faster,  we  must 
go  a  little  round  about  it.  His  life  is 
said  to  have  been  one  of  intricacies 
mod  mysteries,  usmg  indirect  means 
in  all  things ;  but,  if  he  walked  in  a 
labyrinth,  it  was  to  bewilder  others  ; 
for  the  doe  was  still  in  his  own  hand ; 
all  he  sought  was  that  his  designs 
'  should  not  be  discovered  by  his  ac- 
tions. His  word,  we  are  told,  was 
his  bond;  his  hour  was  punctual;  and 
his  opinions  were  compressed  and 
weighty ;  but,  if  he  was  true  to  his 
bond-word,  it  was  only  a  part  of  the 
system  to  give  facilitv  to  the  carrying 
on  of  his  trade,  for  he  was  not  strict 
to  his  honour ;  the  pride  of  victory, 
as  well  as  the  passion  for  acquisition, 
combined  in  the  character  of  Audley, 
as  in  i^ore  tremendous  conquerors. 


His  partners  th^ded  the  effects  of  his 
law-library,  and  usually  relinquished 
a  claim  rather  than  stand  a  suit  against 
a  latent  quibble.  When  one  menaced 
him  by  showing  some  money-bags, 
which  he  had  resolved  to  empty  in  law 
against  him,  Audley,  then  in  office  in 
the  court  of  wards,  with  a  sarcastic 
gria,  asked  ^  Whether  the  bags  had 
any  bottom  ?'  /  Aye  !'  replied  the  ex* 
ulting  possessor,  striking  them,  <  In 
that  case  1  care  not,'  retorted  the  cy- 
nical officer  of  the  court  of  wards; 
^  for  in  this  court  I  have  a  constant 
spring,  and  I  cannot  spend  in  other 
courts  more  than  I  gain  in  tliis.'  He 
had  at  oitee  the  meanness  which  would 
evade  the  law,  and  the  spirit  which 
could  resist  it. 

The  career  of  Audley's  ambition  , 
closed  with  the  extinction  of  the  court 
of  wards,  by  which  he  incurred  the  loss 
of  above  one  hundred  thousand  pounds. 
On  that  occasion  he  observed  that 
'  his  ordinary  losses  were  as  the  shav- 
ings of  his  beard,  which  only  grew  the 
faster  by  them ;  but  the  loss  of  this 
place  was  like  the  cutting  off  a  mem^ 
ber ;  which  was  irrecoverable.*  The 
hoary  usurer  pdned  at  the  decline  of 
hb  genius,  discoursed  on  the  vanity  of 
the  worid,  and  hinted  at  retreat.  A 
facetious  friend  told  him  a  story  of  an 
old  rat,  who,  having  acquainted  the 
young  rats  that  he  would  at  length  re- 
tire to  lus  hole,  desiring  none  to  come 
near  him,  their  curiosity,  ai^er  some 
days,  led  them  to  venture  to  look  into 
the  hole ;  and  there  they  discovered 
the  old  rat  sitting  in  the  midst  of  a  rich 
parmesan  cheese.  It  is  probable  that 
the  loss  of  the  last  one  hundred  thou- 
sand pounds  disturbed  his  digestion, 
for  he  did  not  long  survive  his  court  of 
wards. 

FALL  OF  ROBESFIERKE. 

FBDM  LAYALLXa's  H18TOKT  OP  THE  FRXSCa 
FACTIOSS. 

^'  Never  since  the  trial  of  Louis 
XVI,  had  the  convention  been  so  nu- 
merous. '  At  ten  o'clock  it  was  all  as* 
sembled.     The  mob  of  Bobe^ierre 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


256 


inSCBIitARCOUS. 


filled  the  tribunes.  He  appeared; 
murmurs  annchinced  his  arrival;  he 
entered  elate  with  hope ;  he  sat  down 
depressed  with  fear.  St.  Just  ascend- 
ed the  tribune,  but  he  had  uttered  only 
a  few  sentences  when  he  was  inter- 
rupted by  Tallien  from  the  summit  of 
the  Mountain.* 

In  how  high  a  rank,  observes  ano- 
ther author,  does  that  orator  deserve 
to  be  placed,  who,  concealing  a  dag- 
ger in  his  vest,  durst  form  the  fearless 
resolution  of  sacrificing  Robespierre 
in  full  senate,  if  his  eloquence  had  fail- 
ed to  beat  down  the  tyrant,  and  who 
overthrew  him  by  the  force  of  his 
words  alone.  Sufficient  car^  ha&  not 
been  taken  to  record  the  terrible  and 
vehement  eloquence  of  Tallien  in  that 
•  decisive  moment.  Never  perhaps  did 
any  orator  combine  such  physical  and 
moral  powers  to  uncover  an  abyss  and 
reveal  its  dangers  to  his  affrighted 
hearers.  Never  was  a  more  rapid 
and  more  terrible  impulse  communica- 
ted :  his  voice,  his  gesture,  his  broken 
words,  his  eyes  flashing  with  anger 
"and  horror,  the  shuddering  of  his  whole 
frame,  all  announced  the  sublimest  ef- 
fort of  human  eloquent.  It  triumph- 
ed ;  and  had  this  been  its  only  service 
to  humanity,  its  blessings  should  be 
held  in  eternal  memory. 

•'  Hardly  had  Tallien  finished, 
when  Robespierre  darted  to  the  tri- 
bune. At  the  same  moment,  twenty 
members  rush  towards  it.  Instantly 
the  whole  mountain  arose,  and  cries 
of  ^  Down  with  Robespierre,'  *  Down 
with  the  tvrant,  resounded  from  eve- 
ry side.  Vadier,  Amar,  Bourdon  de 
roise,  Lecointre  de  Versailles,  Collot 
d'Herbois,  Leonard  Bourdon,  Ja vogue, 
Legendre,  even  Billaud  de  Varennes, 
roused  from  his  profound  dissimula- 
tio  •  by  a  dexterous  appeal  from  Tal- 
Iie:i,  spoke  in  succession.  O  what 
c'imes,  what  hatetbl  intrigues,  what 
b  oody  oppressions,  what  unheard  of 
i  iiquities,  were  brought  to  light  on 
that  terrible  morning  I   During  more 

*"  A  part  of  tbe  haU  so  called. 


than  two  hotnrs  Robespierre  was  ab- 
solutely in  convulsions ;  all  the  move- 
ments of  his  frame  expressed  the  rage 
which  devoured  him.  A  hundreid 
times  did  he  demand  permission  ta 
speak,  and  could  not  obtain  it.  He 
clung  to  th^  stair  of  the  tribune^  and 
could  not  be  torn  from  it,  and  in  this 
position  the  speakers  who  followed 
each  other  in  rapid  succession,  seem- 
ed like  so  many  divinities  launching 
thunders  at  his  head,  and  the  count- 
less details  of  his  atrocities  streamed 
upon  him  like  a  rain  of  fire.  His 
strength  at  last  gave  way  He  sought 
on  every  seat  a  resting  place,  and  ev- 
^ry  where  met  with  a  repulse.  He 
was  pursued  from  place  to  place  wkh 
the  bitterest  reproaches.  When  he 
seemed  nearly  fainting^  one  said  te 
him,  *  You  are  choaked  with  the  blood 
of  Danton  !'  *  Wretch,  touch  not  that 
bench,'  exclaimed  another,  <  for  there 
sat  Vergniaux.'  He  advanced  to  the 
galleries,  and  raising  his  arm  towards 
those  who  filled  Uiem,  exclaimed, 
^  Will  you  abandon  me,  will  you  sul^ 
fer  me  to  perish  ;  me,  your  champi- 
on ?'  All  were  silent ;  and  those  very 
men  who  were  posted  there  by  htm* 
self,  terrified  at  so  unexpected  a  scene, 
remained  motionless  at  his  appeal. 
Robespierre,  sinking  with  exhaustion, 
succeeded  once  more  in  reaching  the 
front  of  the  tribune.  Thuriot  was 
president.  Robespierre  exclaimed  t» 
him  :  ^  President  of  assassins,  for  the 
last  time  I  ask  leave  to  speak.'  At 
this  moment  a  general  cry  bursts  fortk 
— ^  The  decree  of  accusation  to  the 
vote !'  The  President  put  the  ques- 
tion, and  not  a  single  deputy  kept  hia 
seat." 

At  this  very  time,  when  Robes]»erre 
seemed  abandoned  by  all,  and  hunted 
to  the  very  precipice  of  his  fate,  a^ 
dreadful  proof  was  afforded  of  the  aw- 
ful ascendency  which  he  had  acquhv 
ed.  One  member  demanded  to  be  in- 
cluded in  his  act  of  accusation,  and 
when  be  wa«  conveyed  to  prison  by 
the  gens  d^armes,  the  jaUors,  one  and 
all,  refused  to  incur  tHe  responsibility 

Digitized  by"CjOOQlC 


ll1S€itt.LANE0U^. 


a»r 


of  receiving  hlm^  and  he  was  convey^ 
edto  the  Commune,  which  immedi- 
ately ordered  the  tocsin  to  be  rung^ 
and  declared  itself  in  a  state  of  insar- 
reclion.  Had  Robespierre  possessed 
common  courage,  he  would  probably 
«v«D  now  have  been  victorious ;  but 
but  he  was  wholly  unmanned^  he 
wept  like  an  infant,  and  whined  most 
lamentably  about  the  ingratitude  of 
men.  In  the  mean  time,  the  leaders 
of  the  oppoBite  party  acted  with 
promptness  and  decision.  Legendre, 
singly,  entered  the  hall  of  the  jacobins, 
and  by  his  rude  but  vigorous  elo- 
ijpjence,  actually  dispersed  them,  put 
out  the  lights,  locked  the  doors,  and 
carried  the  keys  to  the  convention.-— 
Barras  and  Leonard  Bourdon  collect- 
jed  some  battalions  of  national  guards, 
and  their  columns  met  at  the  house  of 
the  C^ommune.  They  ascended  the 
staircase  amii  shouts  of  <  vive  la  caiP' 
ventiom^  and  the  reign  of  Robespierre 
was  at  an  end» 


ANECDOTE  OF  DR.  YOUNG. 
Dr.  Toung  was  once  on  9  pjurty  of 
pleasure  with  a  few  ladies,  going  up 
by  water  to  Yau^hall,  and  he  aaiused 
t^ra  with  a  tqne  on  the  German  flute. 
Behind  him  several  officers  were  also 
In  a  boat  rowing  for  the  same  place, 
and  soon  came  alongside  the  boat  in 
«4iich  were  the  doctor  and  his  party, 
the  doctor,  who  was  never  conceited 
of  his  playing,  put  up  his  flute  on  their 
Approach.  One  of  the  officers  in- 
stantly ask^d  why  he  ceased  to  play, 
or  put  up  his  flute  ?  ^  For  the  same 
reason  (said  he)  tbtit  I  took  it  out— 
to  please  myself."  The  son  of  Mars 
▼ery  peremptorily  rejoined,  that  if  he 
did  not  Instantly  take  out  his  flute, 
and  contique  his  music,  he  would  throw 
him  into  the  Thames.  The  doctor, 
10  order  to  allay  the  fears  of  the  ladies, 
pocketed  the  insult,  and  continqed  \o 
play  all  the  way  qp  the  riveft  Du- 
ring the  evening,  however,  he  observ- 
ed the  officer  by  himself  in  one  of  the 
walks,  and  making  up  to  him,  said 


with  great  coolness,  ^  It  wts,  sir,  t^ 
avoid  interrupting  the  harmony  either 
of  my  company  or  yours,  that  I  conw 
plied  with  your  arrogant  demand ;  but 
that  you  may  be  satisfied  courage  may 
be  found  under  a  black  coat  as  weU 
as  under  a  red  one,  I  expect  you  wiii 
meet  me  to  morrow  morning  at  a  cer- 
taia  place,  without  any  second,  the 
quarrel  bdng  entirely  entre  nou$.^^ 
The  doctor  further  covenanted  that 
the  afiair  should  be  decided  by  swords. 
To  all  these  conditions  the  <^cer  as- 
sented, and  the  duellists  met ;  but  the 
moment  the  officer  took  the  ground, 
the  doctor  pulled  out  a  horse  pistol* 
"  What  (said  the  officer)  do  you  in- 
tend to  assassinate  me  ?"  "  No,  (re- 
plied the  doctor)  but  you  shall  instant- 
ly put  up  your  sword  and  dance  a  mi- 
nuet, otherwise  you  are  a  dead  man.'' 
The  officer  began  to  bluster,  but  the 
doctor  was  resolute,  and  he  was  obli- 
ged to  comply.  "  Now,  (said  Young) 
you  forced  me  to  play  against  my  will, 
and  I  have  made  you  dance  against 
vours ;  we  are  therefore  again  on  a 
level,  and  whatever  other  satisfaction 
yon  nny  require,  I  am  ready  to  give 
it."  The  officer  acknowledged  his 
entHT,  and  the  afiair  terminate  in  a 
lasttfig  iiiendship* 

B£4L  GREATNESS. 
There  are  few  characters  that  ^mupp- 
kle  upon  us  with  a  histure  more  en* 
dearingthan  that  of  Commodore  Mac- 
donough.  In  the  decisive  engage- 
ment on  Lake  Champlain,  in  the 
midst  of  action,  he  reproved  one  of 
his  officers  for  taking  the  name  of  the 
Deity  in  vain.  He  is  now  actively 
engaged  in  the  distribution  of  tiie  word 
of  immortal  life,  and  does  not  blush 
to  associate  the  name  of  Christian  to 
that  of  hero.  In  the  late  cruise  under 
Commodore  Steward,  he  was  thought 
to  transgress  the  rules  of  naval  disci- 
pline, and  was  by  that  commander, 
for  such  an  ofl*ence  deprived  of  his 
sword.  The  crew,  anxious  to  testify 
theiresteeniiforachjiLra^^rs^  high^ 

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53S 


UlSGfeLLANBOUtf. 


beloved^  w»hed  to  prefent  him  with 
a  awordy  a  proposition  whkh  he  gen- 
erously and  nobly  declined,  until  his 
ewo  sword  should  be  restored  by  the 
sentence  of  a  comrt-aiartiaL  On  his 
return  to  his  native  country,  he  had 
the  heroism,  the  magnanimity,  to  ac- 
knowledge his  error,  and  was  imme- 
diately reinstated  in  his  former  rank 
and  dignity.  There  is  something  in 
this  conduct  so  far  superior  to  that 
personal  haughtiness  that  disdains  all 
compromise,  and  seeks  revenge  only 
by  blood,  that  we  scarcely  know  in 
what  terms  to  express  our  esteem  and 
veneration  for  such  a  character. 

Commodore  iVf acdonougb,  is  above 
risquing  his  life  in  a  duel ;  he  feels 
the  claim  of  Christianity  no  less  than 
that  of  his  countrv  upon  him,  both  of 
them  contradict  the  wanton  exposure 
of  life  in  single  combat.  Afterwards 
we  hear  of  his  benevolence.  He  ren- 
ders his  service  as  a  mediator  to  pre- 
vent a  duel  between  Commodore  Bar- 
ron and  Commodore  Rodgers,  both  of 
whose  lives  may  have  been  preserved 
by  this  timely  interference.  We  love 
to  gase  at  the  star-crowned  laurel  of 
victory;  and  there  is  something  in 
this  Christian  elevation  of  the  soul, 
that  dares  to  acknowledge  an  error, 
so  brilliant,  that  even  the  glory  acqui- 
red on  Lake  Champlain,  in  die  con- 
templation of  this  spectacle,  fades 
from  our  eyes.  Courage  n  a  mere 
animal  virtue ;  it  may  even  depend 
on  a  callous  insensilNlity  of  nerves  ; 
but  Christian  courage  is  very  diffi- 
rent — it  dares  to  acknowledge  its  own 
defects  and  errors,  and  the  star  of  con- 
quest gleams  with  a  double  splen- 
dour, when  it  twinkles  on  the  front  of 
Christian  magnanimity. 

BcUt.  Ckron. 

MODE  OF  CATCHING  MONMES.  ^ 
The  ring-lailed  monkey,  called  in 
Spanish,  mona,  is  common  to  South 
America.  The  monkies  are  very  art- 
ful and  mischievous ;  and  if  annoyed, 
^equeutly  attack  their  disturber  from 
(he  tops  of  trees,  with  nuts  and  stones. 


The  negroes  in  the  c<^n]es  have  a  lu- 
dicrous method  of  catching  tbem; 
which  is  by  putting  a  lump  of  sugar 
into  the  hole  at  the  end  of  an  empty 
cocea^uit  shell,  laying  it  on  the  groun^ 
and  strewing  some  sugar  round  it — 
The  monkey,  whose  curiosity  prompts 
him  to  search  the  spot  you  have  Icft^ 
no  sooner  tastes  the  sweet  repast,  than 
in  search  of  more,  he  puts  his  paw  in- 
to the  shell,  and  grasps  the  sugar ;  but 
as  the  hole  is  just  lar^e  enough  to  ad- 
mit his  withdrawing  it  empty,  he  is  so 
tenacious  of  his  prize,  that  he  is  easily 
surprised — the  large  shell  fixed  at  his 
paw. 


IXINERANT  PRIESTS  IN  BRAZIL. 

Certain  priests  obtain  a  licence  from 
the  bishop  of  Pcmambuco,  and  travel 
through  these  regions  widi  a  small  al- 
tar, constructed  for  the^purpose,  of  a 
size  to  be  placed  on  one  side  of  a  pack- 
saddle;  and  they  have  with  them  aH 
their  apparatus  for  saying  mass.  Thus 
with  a  horse  conveying  the  necessary 
paraphernalia,  and  a  boy  to  drive  it, 
who  likewise  assists  in  saying  mass, 
and  another  horse,  on  which  the  priest 
himself  rides,  and  carries    his  own 
small  portmanteau,  th^e  men  make 
in  the  course  of  the  year  between  150 
and  20a£ — a  large  income  in  Brasit, 
but  hardly  earned,  if  the  inconveni- 
ences and  privations  which  they  must 
undergo  to  obtain  it  are  taken  into 
consideration.     They  stop  and  erect 
the  altar,  wherever  a  sufficient  num- 
ber of  persons  who  are  ^iUi'^  ^o  P^y 
for  the  mass  is  collected.     This  will 
sometimes  be  said  for  three  or  four 
shillings :  but  at  other  times,  if  a  rich 
man  takes  a  fancy  to  a  priest,  or  has 
a  fit  of  extreme  devotion  upon   him, 
he  will  give  eight  or  ten  mil  reit^  (two 
or  three  pounds ;)  and  it  does  happea  i 
that  one  huudred  mil  rew  are  received 
for  saying  mass,  but  this  Is  very  rare  ;t 
at  times  an  ox,  or  a  horse,  or  two  or 
three,  are  given.    These  men  have 
their  use  in  the  world  :  if  this  costom 
did  not  exist;  all  ^m  of  wordsip 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


POETICAL* 


ilS9 


wrald  be  completely  oat  of  the  reach 
of  the  inhabitants  of  many  districts, 
or  at  any  rate  they  would  not  be  able 
to  attend  more  than  once  or  twice  in 
the  course  of  the  year ;  for  it  must  be 
remembered  that  there  is  no  church 
within  twenty  ojc  thirty  leagues  of 
nine  parts. 


POETICAL. 


FoK  THB  Masonic  lUeiBTfifU 

Hast  diofi  e*er  lov'd,  and  know'st  thou  not 
Love's  chain  is  form'd  of  bitter  tears  ? 

Of  joYBy  ID  one  short  hour  for^t, 
OkgM,  remembered  still  lor  years  ? 

Of  dadnev,  lighting  lowers  eyes 

Wtob  beams  that  mock  the  painter's  art  ? 
Aad  also  fona'd  of  secret  sigfas, 

Jlat  dim  the  eye,  and  break  the  heart  ? 

HXKBISTTA. 


Foa  TBX  M4SOVIG  RxoisTaa. 
SOLtmON  OF  THE  POETICAL  ENIG- 
MA IN  THE  LAST  NUMBER. 

ACROSTrC. 

La!  aD  fhinp  are  changing  as  time  roUs 

along, 
E  *eii  the  names  of  great  heroes  scarce  live 

but  insoag. 
T  lew  the  tribe  of  old  Lari  of  which  he  was 


1 1  flourished  awhile,  and  then  sank  with 
the  dead. 

View  Ilia  fate  of  the  viU  as  in  Sodom  of 
old, 

la  Lot's  wife  the  justice  of  Heavan  be- 
hold ! 

I  attfaek'  oveithrow  warn  us  each  error  to 
shon; 

£  ver  ^  kaap  to  the  right"v  as  life's  journey 
we  run. 

?  iee  asder  a  ttS  itself  would  conceal, 
£  adb  deed  tboogh  thus  hidden,  one  day 

roust  reveal ; 
1  a  die  garden  of  Eden,  so  Adam  and  Eve, 
L  «t  their  virtue ;  but  found  'twas  in  vain 

to  deceive. 


EtA 


_  J  never  came  from  the  Author  of 

good; 
?  i«a^  too,  H  is  certain  was  known  ere  the 

4ood. 
tfjmrtiddk's  notsoWd  I'm  surely  to 


£^  amfchf  hat^yg  from  Satw  e'er  came. 


L  etthe  storms  of  affliction  still  gather  a: 

round  ; 
I  n  vain  may  they  roll,  while  hope  shall 

abound, 
V  ain  man  would  stiH  cling  to  h'ls  mansion 

below, 
£  ver  here  would  he  itte,  tho'  surrounded 

with  woe. 


ANOTHER 

A  patriarch  liv'd  in  days  of  yore,  ' 
Four  letters  form'd  his  name. 

And  Leviy  (which  contains  the  four,) 
Spells  vUt  when  we're  to  blame. 

And  when  our  shame  we  seek  to  hide^ 

A  veil  those  letters  makes  ; 
And  should  we  into  tvil  slide, 

The  blame  the  devH  takes. 

On  frmcy's  wing  we  often  range, 
In  search  of  pleasure's  prize, 

But  still  would  livej  nor  e'er  exchange, 
The  earth  to  gain  the  skies. 

Foa  TBB  Masonic  Reoistbr. 
THE  SNOW-COVERED  GRAVE. 

Fair  stranger !  hither  bend  thy  course, 
To  reason^  port  thy  passage  force. 

Secured  fit>m  folly's  wave ; 
For  soon  thy  voyage  of  life  is  o'er, 
Come  then,  and  view  its  farther  shore, 

The  cold,  snow-cover'd  grave. 

The  sun  around  now  throws  his  rays. 
The  glist'ning  fields  reflect  the  blase, 

Where  sleep  the  silent  brave  ; 
But  not  ambition's  gaudy  vnvath, 
Chu  charm  the  eye  that  sleeps  beneath, 

The  cold,  snowcover'd  grave. 

The  flowers  of  beauty  wither'd  lie, 
And  wealth,  and  honour  swiftly  fly, 

Here  fashion  frees  her  slave , 
The  willow's  verdure  now  has  fled. 
Its  boughs  hang  dreaiy  o'er  the  deadj 

The  cold,  snow-cover*d  grave. 

Reflect !  this  is  thy  certain  doom. 
There  u  no  arm  that  from  the  tomb 

Thy  feeble  form  can  save : 
Each  prospect  fahr,  which  smiles  to  view, 
Is  but  a  light,  to  guide  thee  to 

The  cold,  snow-covered  grave. 

THE  ONLY  HAPPINESS^^ 

Our  life  at  best  is  but  a  dream, 

A  transient  meteor  flying  i 
Whatever  we  enjoy  therein, 

Loses  its  sest  by  dying. 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


240 


rOSTYCAL* 


Tfae  bliss  it  gives  tho'  e'er  so  brigiit, 
With  paia  and  grief  is  blended  : 

And  whilst  it  glitters  in  the  sights 
Oar  short  lived  joy  is  ended. 

Hie  mind  pursues  the  earth  arotindy 
In  seared  of  lasting  treasure  ; 

But  does  she  find  her  labour  crown'd 
With  one  substantial  pleasure  ? 

Still  anxious  and  unsatisfied 
With  what  she  now  possesses : 

She's  pleased,  amusedi  and  oft  defidet 
The  object  she  caresses. 

The  only  happiness  on  earth 

To  us  poor  mortals  given^ 
Is  to  be  bom  of  heav'nly  birth. 

And  taste  the  jo}^  of  heaven. 


WINTER   EVENINGS    AMUSEMENT 
FOR  JANE   AND  ME. 

In  summer  days  I  till  the  ground. 
And  tug  and  toil  and  get  my  bread ; 

No  interval  can  then  be  found, 
Between  my  labour  and  my  bed* 

My  wife  decliues  o  knit  by  night, 

And  I  to  read  by  candle  light. 

But  when  the  south  receives  the  soil 

Beyond  the  equinoctial  line  ; 
When  all  my  summer  work  is  done. 

Substantial  pleasures  then  are  mine. 
Then  Jane  bezins  to  knit  at  night. 
And  I  to  read  by  candle  light. 

Vm  then  content,  and  never  sigh, 
Nor  fly  from  home  some  bliss  to  find ; 

And  Jane  is  pleased  as  well  as  I, 
It  so  completely  feasts  her  mindt 

To  sit  her  down  to  knit  by  nipht. 

And  hear  me  read  by  candle  light. 

For  when  I  read  she  alwajrs  hears. 
And  when  she  heats  she  tries  to  scan ; 

Wben  aught  to  her  obscure  appears, 
Then  I  explain  it  if  I  can, 

0  how  she  loves  to  knit  by  nizht^ 
And  hear  me  read  by  candle  light. 

But  when  she  drop  a  stich,  and  gapes. 
Soon  gapes  agam,  and  nods  her  head, 

1  close  my  book,  and  say,  perhaps 

'Tis  time  my  dear  to  go  to  bed : 
So  knit  again  to  morrow  night, 
And  hear  me  read  by  candle  light. 


THE  CYPRESS  TREE. 

Slender  tree  upon  a  bank 

In  lonely  beauty  towers, 
So  dark,  as  if  it  only  drank  • 

The  essence  of  the  thunder  showtn : 


When  birds  were  at  their  evening  songs, 

In  thoughtful  reverie, 
I've  mark'd  the  shadows,  deep  and  long, 

Outstretching  from  that  cypress  tre. 

I've  thought  of  oriental  tombs, 

Of  silent  cities,  where. 
In  manv  a  row  the  cypress  glooms, 

In  token  of  despair ; 
And  thought,  beneath  the  evening  star, 

How  many  a  maiden  crept 
From  busy  life's  discordant  jar. 

And  o'er  the  tomb  in  silence  wept 

I've  thought,  thou  lonely  cypress  tree, 

Thou  hermit  of  the  grove. 
How  many  a  heart  is  left  like  thee 

In  loneliness,  on  earth  to  rove  ; 
When  all  that  charm *d  the  eariy  day, 

And  cheer'd  the  youthful  mind, 
Have,  like  the  sunbeams,  pass'd  away, 

And  left  but  clouded  skies  behind ! 

Thou  wert  a  token  unto  me. 

Thou  stem  with  dreary  leaf 
So  desolate  thou  seem  st  to  be, 

That  earth  is  but  a  home  of  grief ! 
A  few  shoK  years  shall  journey  by, 

And  then  thy  boughs  shall  wave, 
When  tempests  beat,  and  breezes  sigh. 

Above  thy  head,  and  o'er  my  grave. 


NIGHT. 

The  sun  has  gone  down  on  the  \ 

wave. 

And  nature  is  wrapt  in  a  living  grave ; 
Deep  silence  reigns — save  where  the  gentk 

breese, 
Which  whispers  in  darkness  throu^  tk^ 

trees'^ 
Or  the  bubbling  sound  of  the  pearly  riU, 
Which  sofUy  breaks  on  the  sacred  still : 
'Tifl  an  hour  when  the  thoughts  of  maa 

should  rise 
To  the  splendour  above  these  dariien'd 

skies — 
When  the  soul  should  i^st  on  the  TbroM 

of  Light, 
In  Hope,  through  the  vista  of  changing 

nieht 
Sbonld  the  moon  shine  forth  with  her 

milder  ray»^ 
'TIS  a  teraper'd  gleam  of  a  brighter  blaft, 
Ofa  beaming  light  &om  the  Fount  of  Love, 
Which  shows  us  darkly  the  worlds  above*, 
'Tis  a  ray  from  the  Great  Jehovah's  eye, 
Which  flashes  its  radiance  through  the  sky. 
We  can  see  that  blasEe — but  we  cannot  see 
The  vastly  depths  of  EXERfHTV ! 

l*HiLo  Oscab. 


HOYT  AND  BOLMORE    PRINTERS, 
No.  70  Bowei^,  New-Yoriu 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


THE 


AMERICAN  MASONIC  REGISTER, 

AND 

Ladies^  and  Gentlemen's  Magaziiier 


BY  LUTHER  PRATT. 


Jud^  not  ficcording  to  appearaoee ;  bat  Judge  righteous  judgment.  Judge  nothing 
before  the  time. 

Judge  not|  that  ye  be  not  judged.  For  with  what  judgment  ye  judge,  ye  shall  be  jndg^ 
ed:  and  with  what  measure  ye  raete>  it  ahall  be  measured  to  you  again.  Bible. 


[No.  VII.] 


FOR  MARCH,  A.  D.  1821.  A.  L.  5821. 


[Vol.  I.] 


MASONIC. 


A  WEW  INQUISITION. 

Under  this  head,  we  published,  in 
ear  January  number,  an  article  from 
^  Western  Register,  puroorting  that 
at  a  *^  meeting  of  the  Presbyterian 
Synod  of  Pittsburgh,  (Peimsylvama,) 
some  of  the  clergy  introdoeed  a  resolu- 
tion to  exclude  Free  Masons  from  the 
rights  of  the  church,  except  in  case 
where  diey  might  confess  their  errors, 
and  abjure  their  Masonic  principles,'' 
^xh  some  very  appropriate  remarks 
l^  ^  ettttor  of  the  Commercial  Ad- 
verCaser,  apd  a  hint  to  the  Synod  by 
the  editor  of  the  Freeman's  Journal. 
At  the  time,  we  were  disposed  to 
doabt,  with  the  editor  of  tl^  Adver- 
tiser, the  vali(fity  of  the  report,  think- 
ing it  almost  incredible  that  a  body  of 
men,  whose  proceedings  ought  to  be 
such  as  to  command  the  respect  and 
veaeration  of  all  classes  of  citizens, 
should  to  debase  the  cause  of  that  reli- 
gion which  it  is  their  bounden  duty  to 
support,  and  inculcate,  as  to  denounce 
an  institution  whose  principles  are 
drawn  from  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and 
are,  in  themselves,  '^  pure  as  the  drift- 
ed mow."    But  it  IS  now  ascertained 


that  a  committee  was  really  appointed 
by  that  body,  to  ^^  consider  the  inqui- 
ry respecting  Free  Masonry,"  and  the 
report  of  that  committee  is  now  before 
the  public,  to  which,  together  with 
tde  subjoined  remarks,  and  the  pro- 
test of  the  three  lodges  of  the  city  of 
Pittsburgh,  the  candid  attention  of 
our  reiM^rs  is  requested. 

FROM  THE  PITTSBCReR  MKRCVRT. 

MASONIC  SOCIETIES. 
Mr.  Snowden — An  article  denounc- 
ing the  reverend  Synod  of  Pittsburgh, 
as  A  "  New  Inquisition,"  and  charg- 
ing them  with  excluding  Free  Masons 
from  the  rights  feind  privileges  of  the 
church,  has  been  published  in  many 
of  the  newspapers  of  the  United  States, 
and  was  last  week  copied  into  the 
Pittsburgh  Gazette.  The  charge  is 
not  founded  in  fact.  I  send  you  a 
copy  of  the  report  and  resolutions, 
for  publication  in  your  useful  paper. 
It  is  an  act  of  justice  due  to  the  synod, 
that  they  should  be  published.  The 
subject  was  finally  referred  to  the  ge- 
neral assembly.  Let  the  friends  of 
Christian  principles  and  Christian  mo- 
rals, reflect  seriously  on  this  docu- 
ment, and  then  say  whether  the  synod 
was  governed  by  an  inquisitorial  dis- 
positiotti  or  by  a  sincere  desire  to  pro- 


S4t 


aiABOHIC. 


mote  the  true  and  eveiiasting  inter* 
ests  of  their  fellow  men. 

A  PBBSnTTBRIAZf* 

Jatvuary  IS,  1821. 

REPORT. 

The  coramittee  appointed  by  the 
synod  to  consider  the  inquiry  respect- 
ing Free  Masonry,  report  :— 

That  having  seriously  deliberated 
on  the  same,  they  are  of  opinion  that 
this  subject  imperiously  demands  the 
attention  of  this  synod,  and  of  the 
church  at  large.  We  are  aware  that 
in  discharging  our  duty,  and  in  the 
expression  of  our  sentiments  relative 
to  Masonic  societies,  unpleasant  sen- 
sations may  be  excited  in  the  minds 
of  many  who  are  alive  to  every  thing, 
affecting,  in  any  way,  the  supposed 
sacredness  of  their  order.  We  are, 
also,  aware,  that  the  subject  ought  to 
be  treated  with  due  caution,  so  as  not, 
unnecessarily,  to  provoke  hostility, 
and,  with  suitable  respect  to  some 
valuable  members  of  society,  who  are 
partial  to  Masonry,  and  are  still  con- 
nected with  its  institutions,  as  well  as 
those  who,  upon  experience  in  the 
praptical  effects  of  Masonry,  have  dis- 
continued their  attendance  on  tfaeir 
lodges. 

Nevertheless,  It  appears  to  us  to  be 
the  duty  of  the  synod,  firmly  to  bear 
their  testimony,  and  ft^y  to  express 
their  sentiments  on  this  subject ;  and 
also  to  warn  and  admonish  the  pr<y- 
fessorsof  religion,  with  wliom  uiey 
are  specially  connected,  agamst  be- 
coming members  of  Free  Mason  iodg^ 
es,  or  if  members,  against  contindng 
to  attend  on  their  meetings. 

Your  committee  do  not  design  to 
trace  the  origin,  nor  to  enter  into  a 
discussion  on  the  merits  of  i^Iasonry. 
We  do  not  mean  to  urge  the  objec- 
tions against  the  very  nature  of  this 
institution,  from  the  fact  of  keeping 
secret  frpm  the  world  that  which  is 
held  to  be  so  important  to  the  object 
of  charity  and  benevolence;  and  also 
from  the  requisition  of  an  oath  of 
eecrecy^  without  knowing  its  nature  or 
ol:^e<^  nor  to  dwell  on  the  su^clous 


character  of  a  society  which  seeks 
concealment  and  darkness  for  its  pro- 
ceedings. Your  committee  confine 
their  attention  chiefly  to  the  effect  of 
these  societies,  on  religion  and  morals. 
In  this  view  we  think  it  an  incumbent 
duty  solemnly  and  affectionately  to 
warn  our  members,  and  especially  onr 
youth. 

We  ask,  what  good  moral  effects 
have  these  societies  ever  produced? 
What  reformation  have  they  ever  e^ 
fected  ?  What  youth  have  they  erer 
reclaimed  ?  What  Christian  has  ever 
improved  in  piety,  by  entering  a  Ma- 
sonic lodge  and  holding  fellowship 
and  communion  with  its  members  ?  Is 
such  a  fellowship  at  all  consistent 
with  communion  with  the  people  of 
God;  and  with  the  Father  and  his  Sod 
Jesus  Christ?  And  what  Christian, 
eminent  for  piety,  has  not  abandoned 
his  intercourse  with  them  ?  How  ma- 
ny mournful  instances  of  degradation 
and  ruin  to  the  bodies  and  souls  of 
men,  may  be  traced  to  a.coonectioQ 
and  intercourse  with  such  characteis 
as  too  generally  compose  the  lodges 
in  our  country  ?  At  how  vast  a  ilik 
does  any  one,  and  especially  an  un- 
guarded youth,  enter  an  asaodatiooy 
<<  embracing  with  equal  affection,  the 
Pagan,  the  Turk, and  the  Christian?'' 
How  hqmiliating  and  disgusting  must 
it  be,  lib  persons  of  intelligence  and 
taste,  to  mingle  in  the  close  intimacy 
of  brotherhood,  with  those  whose  s<^ 
ciety  they  would  spurn  on  all  ordinaiy 
occasions  ? 

We  think  it  not  unimportant  lo  no- 
tice, how  inconsistent  with  the  My 
charity  and  exteruive  benevolence  ot 
the  gospel,  is  that  peculiar  attachment 
and  preference  of  the  brethren^  which 
is  the  boast  of  their  order.  A  prefeiw 
ence  not  founded  on  intrinsic  worth, 
but  merely  on  the  badges  of  Masonry; 
not  to  mention  the  Imleful  InfiueBce 
which  Masonic  partialities  may  be 
expected  to  produce  in  the  disO'ibu- 
tion  of  justice,  in  elections,  or  ap- 
pointments to  office,  and  in  the  vari- 
ousUaMactio|Bof^«^gjg 


MAMCmC 


94S 


How  vtin  also,  if  not  f^resiimpta- 
ousy  tlie  pretence  of  insthutmg  a  sod* 
ety,  the  benevolence  of  which  shaU 
exceed  the  charily  enforced  by  the 
Son  of  God?  The  gospel  of  Christ 
explains  and  enforces,  with  the  htgh- 
eit  po6«ble  motives,  the  principles  of 
charity.  The  gospel  and  it^  rites  and 
institntionsy  are  the  means  appmnted 
id  God  for  the  reformation  of  the 
world.  It  needs  not  the  lights  nor 
die  ajdn  of  Masonry,  by  which  it  is 
unknown  to  us,,  that  one  instance  of 
genliine  reformation  was  ever  efi^t- 
ed. 

We  also  consider  Masonry,  In  ex- 
doding  firom  its  rites,  its  confidence, 
and  its  privileges,  all  females,  as  in- 
sulting to  the  dignity,  and  hostile  to 
the  comfort,  of  the  most  amiable  of 
our  species.  Woman  was  destined  by 
our  benevolent  Creator  to  be  the  af- 
fectionate friend,  the  counsellor,  and 
Biost  intimate  confidante  of  man.  It 
is  believed  then,  that  a  man  of  a  gen- 
erous and  affectionate  heart,  will  hesi- 
tate before  entering  an  institution, 
which  would  forbid  him  to  entrust  to 
die  wife  of  his  bosom,  secret  commu- 
mcatioiis,  imparted  to  the  most  worth- 
lufs  of  his  own  sex ;  and  which  would 
dienate  from  her  and  her  children 
their  common  property,  without  the 
privilege  of  being  permitted  to  know 
for  what  purpose,  or  to  what  object. 

We  think  it  also  not  unworthy  the 
consideration  of  American  youth,  who 
j«stly  revere  the  free  political  institu- 
tions of  their  country,  what  a  danger- 
Ottft  medium  secret  aodeties  have  fur^ 
niahed  to  designing  men  (or  accom- 
{dishing  purposes,  ruinous  to  the  in- 
terests of  other  governments,  and  how 
dangerous  they  may  yet  prove  to  our 
ewn. 

Under  the  iniuence  of  the  above, 
and  other  reflections,  your  committee 
would  not  hesitate  to  say  to  all  the 
membars  of  our  churoh,  and  especial- 
ly to  our  youth,  ^^come  out  from 
SMiong  them  and  be  separate:  have  no 
communion  with  the  unfruitful  works 
of  dSen-ibioas^  but  <«lh«r  reprove  th^;" 


and    do  recommend  the   synod   to 
adopt  the  following  resolutions  : 

1.  Resiiivedy  That  Masonic  lodges^ 
especially  as  composedand  conducted 
in  various  parts  of  our  country  ^  have 
had,  and  are  calculated  to  have,  a 
pemictous  influence  on  morals  and 
religion;  and  that  attendance  on 
them  is  unsuitable  to  the  profession  of 
the  holy  religion  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  Therefore—        • 

2.  Resohedy  That  it  is  the  duty  of 
all  ministers  of  the  gospel,  elders,  pa- 
rents, and  professional  Christians,  to 
use  their  influence  to  prevent  those 
under  their  care  from  entering  these 
associations,  and  induce  those  who 
may  have  entered,  to  discontinue  their 
attendance. 

3.  The  synod,  deeply  impressed 
with  concern  for  the  general  interest 
of  society,  civil  and  religious ;  particu- 
larly with  concern  for  some  amiable 
men,  who  now  stand  connected  with 
the  aforesaid  society,  [recommend 
them]  to  take  with  earnestness  the 
course  of  safety  for  themselves ;  and 
in  the  present  crisis  of  the  conflict  of 
the  kingdom  of  God  with  the  kingdoa 
of  darkness,  to  show  themselves  on 
the  Lord's  side,  and  to  perform  zeal- 
ously, the  duties  which  their  attitude 
in  relation  to  the  church  of  Christy 
and  to  those  societies,  particularly  re* 
commend ;  so  as  not  only  to  promote 
the  cause  of  godliness  generally,  but 
also  the  eternal  welfare  of  their  breth- 
ren, with  whom  they  may  he-connect- 
ed, and  upon  whom  they  mny  ej^ert  a 
saktary  influence. 

REMARKS. 

With  suitable  deference  to  the  sy<» 
nod;  we  would  ask,  upon  what  grounds 
this  inquiry  was  instituted,  and  upon 
what  information  the^.^ommittee 
founded  their  report  ?  Did  they  take 
up,  and  in  a  dispassionate  and  unpre- 
judiced manner,  read  the  varipur^ti- 
thors  who  have  written  in  diflerent 
ages  on  the  subject  of  Free  Masonry  I 
Old  they  examine  the  Masonic  ^^  Book 


344 


IUUK)MIC» 


era!  brindpleS)  is  wdl  as  the  pwtdc- 
alar  duties  of  Masons  are  so  plainly 
pointed  out^  that  they  cannot  be  mis- 
understood by  any  person  of  the  most 
ordinary  capacity  ?  Did  they  peruse 
aay  of  the  great  variety  of  orations 
and  discourses  delivered  on  the  sub- 
ject by  truly  pious  and  respectable 
dergymen  of  the  fraternity ;  or  did 
they  form  their  judgments  from  the 
vague  reports  so  industriously  circu- 
lated among  the  bigoted  and  supersti- 
tious ;  or  from  the  disorderly  conduct 
of  some  of  the  craft,  many  of  whom, 
perhaps,  for  their  cnuasonic  con- 
duct, have  been  for  years  expelled 
from  all  communication  with  the  or^ 
der  ?  We  apprehend  that  the  latter  is 
the  case;  and  that  this  theological 
body  have,  with  too  little  considera- 
tion, interfered  in  a  subject,  with 
which  they  are  almost,  if  not  entirely 
unacquainted.  We  would  rather  at- 
tribute the  transaction  to  an  error  of 
the  head,  than  of  the  heart  We 
wish  to  exercise  that  charity  so  strong- 
ly inculcated  in  the  principles  of  our 
order,  towards  all  mankind ;  and  par- 
ticularly towards  those  who  are  select- 
ed as  telM^hers  of  the  religion  of  the 
blessed  Redeemer,  to  whatever  sect  or 
denomination  they  may  be  attached. 

We  would  further  inquire  of  these 
gentlemen,  if  ever  they  heard  of  a 
body  of  Free  Masons  warning  or  ad- 
nioBishing  their  brethren  against  be- 
coming members  of  a  Presbyterian,  or 
any  other  church  professing  the  prm- 
cjples  of  Christianity  ?    If  they  can 

Sroduce  a  solitaiy  instance,  of  a  Free- 
lason's  attempting  to  instigate  a  bro- 
ther from  the  solemn  obligations  he 
was  under  to  the  church  ?  We  think 
these  questions  must  be  answered  in 
the  negative;  and  we  charitably  hope, 
that  had  the  committee  ^^  seriously 
and  dt^>assionately''  deliberated  on 
the  subject,  and  was  it  possible  for 
them  to  know  the  obligations  that 
every  Mason  is  under  to  the  lodge  of 
which  he  is  a  member,  as  well  as  to 
every  individual  of  the  great  family  of 
Masons  throughout  the  woiU^iastead 


of  warning  attd  admanishkig  proAss* 
ors  of  religion  against  continuing  to 
attend  on  Masonic  meetings,  Uity 
would  have  exhorted  such  as  are  Ma- 
sons, to  a  punctual  attendance,  a  strict 
adherence  to  their  duty  as  memben  of 
the  fraternity,  and  the  use  of  every 
possible  means  to  correct  any  errors 
that  might  have  crept  in  among  them  ; 
for  although  no  religious  disputations 
are  allow^  within  the  walls  of  any 
well  related  lodge  or  chapter,  and 
there  is  no  contention  about  the  sec- 
tarian doctrines  of  Luther,  Calvi% 
Whitefield,  Wesley,  or  Ilopkins, 
whose  private  opinions,  it  Is  to  be 
feared,  too  many  professing  Ckria- 
tians  of  the  present  day  take  for  the 
rule  of  their  faith ;  yet  the  precepts  of 
the  Holy  Scriptures  are  inculcated 
and  enforced,  and  every  member  is. 
bound  to  hear,  and  pay  due  attemion 
to  the  admonitions  and  remonstraacca 
of  a  brother. 

The  following  well  written  protest 
of  the  three  lodges  of  the  city  of  Pitta* 
burgh,  precludes  the  necessity  of  any 
further  remarks  from  us  on  the  sub* 


ect: 


rROHl  THE   PITTSBURG B  GAZSTTC 

MASOiNIC  PROTEST. 


The  report  of  the  reverend  Synod  ci 
Pittsburgh,  on  the  subject  of  Free  M»> 
sonry,  having  been  presented  to  the 
world  through  the  medium  of  a  public 
paper,  assumes  a  shape  which  rendeia 
it  necessary  that  the  western  lodges 
should  take  notice  of  it.  And  al- 
though they  have  been  informed  tlial 
the  report,,  at  now  pMMedj  was  not 
adopted  by  the  synod,  yet,  as  it  seends 
uncharitable  to  charee  the  reverend 
gentlemen  by  whom  it  was  communis 
cated,  with  having  given  a  mutiUUed 
account  «f  their  proceedings,  h  must 
be  jN^ecimie^  that  the  report  Is  entiray 
and  it  is  fair  to  consider  it  as  the  act 
of  the  whole  body. 

It  is  a  document  so  uncoortcous  ha 
its  BMoner,  and  so  false  in  its  matter^ 
that  It  B  difficult  to  say  whether  a8to».    ,i 


ttAtOStC 


M9 


ky  Its  perusal;  but  be  tkb  as  it  mayy 
k  cooses  before  the  public  as  the  joint 
production  of  a  body,  wliose  sacred 
fonctioos  cbimthe  respect  of  the  world, 
^articulariy  of  the  Masonic  part,  and 
on  this  account  it  merits  that  considera- 
ticN],  to  whi<h  it  would  not  otherwise 
be  entitled.  The  lodges  of  the  city  of 
Pittsburgh^  firom  the  sincere  veneration 
they  feel  for  the  order  to  which  they 
heloogf  and  ftom  a  sense  oCduty  which 
they  owe  to  themselves^  as  citizens  of 
the  place  where  the  report  was  framed, 
have  thought  it  necessary  to  come  out 
openly  to  deny  the  foul  chai'ges  which 
have  been  so  wantonly  instituted  a- 
gaiiist  them,  and  to  defy  their  reverend 
iitthors  to  the  proof.  The  unassuming 
and  inofiensive  spirit  of  Masonry  re- 
bietantly  intrudes  upon  the  public ; 
but  to  submit  passively  to  the  unfound- 
ed accusation,  would  be  to  carry  Chris- 
tiatt  meekness  to  a  fault. 

The  members  of  the  three  lodges  of 
the  eity  of  Pittsburgh,  always  impress- 
ed wkh  that  respect,  which  it  is  the 
Bride  and  pleasure  of  the  Christian 
Mason  to  observe  towards  the  minis- 
ters of  the  Gospel,  enter  their  solemn 
protest  against,  and  denial  of,  every 
portion  of  the  insinuations  and  charges 
coatahied  in  the  late  synodical  report; 
and  without  intendine;  to  enter  into  a 
regular  discussion  of  the  merits  of  their 
order^  they  conceive  that  tliey  may  be 
excused  for  cursorily  noticing  some  of 
the  accusations  of  that  most  singular 
production. 

The  first  objection  is  the  secrecy  of 
the  order.  That  there  are  certain 
mysteries  existing  among  Masons,  is 
most  truef  but  the  comment  of  the 
reverend  synod  on  this  fact,  is  entirely 
^dse  and  unsupported,  and  only  proves 
the  danger  of  touching  on  subjects 
with  which  we  are  unacquainted.  Citi- 
asQS  are  never  invited  to  become  Ma- 
sons ;  a  member  who  solicits  any  in- 
dividual to  join  the  fraternity,  is  guilty 
of  a  breach  of  the  rules  of  the  order; 
nor^  when  an  applicant  is  accepted,  is 
be  called  upon  blindly  to  promise  se- 
ciesy ;  the  candidate  for  the  iighu  of 


Masonry,  Is  assured  that  he  will  never 
be  required  to  do  any  thing  but  what 
is  in  perfect  consonance  with  the  duties 
of  a  Christian  and  a  citizen.  But  tim 
second  and  great  oharge,  and  the  one 
which,  no  doubt,  gave  rise  to  the  whole 
report  of  the  reverend  synod,  is  the 
presumed  looseness  of  ideas  ou  rel^ 
gious  subjects,  which,  it  has  been  the 
vuJgar  opinion,  is  a  distinctive  trait  of 
Masonry :  it  is  triumphantly,  and  with 
characteristic  magisterialness  asked, 
^^  what  good  moral  effects  have  these 
societies  ever  produced  ?  What  youth 
have  they  ever  reclaimed?  What 
Christian  has  ever  improved  in  piety, 
by  entering  a  Masonic  lodge,  and  hid- 
ing communion  with  its  members  ?'' 
These  questions,  the  reverend  synod 
did  not  intend  should  be  answered  spe* 
cifically ;  they  are  of  that  general  na- 
ture that  may  well  become  an  unmean- 
ing rhapsody  of  declamation,  but  are 
unworthy  of  being  introduced  into  a 
serious  paper,  in  which  fairness  and 
candour  ought  to  predominate.  But 
to  come  as  near  to  satisfying  these  in- 
terrogatories, as  the  nature  of  the  case 
will  admit,  the  lodges  will  reply,  <<  Go 
to  the  destitute  widow,  and  helpless 
orphan,  and  ask,  if  ever  they  have  ap- 
pealed in  vain  for  those  benefits  which 
might  render  their  worldly  situation 
more  tolerable ;  examine  the  periodi- 
cal reports  of  the  difierent  grand  locoes 
of  the  union,  and  observe  how  many 
lectures,  ho^r  many  suspensions,  how 
many  expulsions,  yearly,  take  place  for 
difierent  breaches  of  the  moral  code.'* 
And  as  for  the  last  portion  of  the  in- 
terrogatories, it  is  boldly  answered  by 
another  question,  <<  What  real  Chris- 
tian ever  became  a  Mason,  who» 
piety  was  not  thereby  improved  ?" 

It  is  to  be  regretted,  that  the  rever- 
end synod,  whose  members  ought  to 
be  as  charitable  as  they  are  zealous, 
and  as  well  informed  as  they  are  de- 
vout, should  fall  into  a  vulgar  error, 
on  the  subject  of  the  religion  of  Ma- 
sons ;  it  is  true,  that  they  date  their 
origin  from  a  period  antecedent  to  the 
birth  of  Chrbt;  it  is  tru^jthat  their 

)igitized  by  > 


U6 


MASONIC. 


institotioii  wks  first  organized  for  the 
perpetuation  of  the  mechanic  arts, 
and  for  keeping  alive  the  mild  fire 
of  charity  and  t^nevolence^  from  age 
to  age ;  but  it  is  not  true,  that  the 
brotherhood  arrogate  to  themselves 
an  exclusive  code  of  ethics;  the  mis- 
sion of  our  blessed  Saviour  was  hailed 
as  the  hlippiest  era  for  the  order,  and 
the  meek  irresistible  doctrine  of  the 
New  Testament  has  become  the  rul- 
ing light,  in  the  lodges  throughout 
Christendom.  Christian  Masons,  to 
be  sure,  do  not  pretend  to  interfere 
with  the  duties  of  the  clergy  :  Mason- 
ry is  any  thing  rather  than  presumptu- 
ous ;  if  it  can  procure  a  portion  of  the 
good  Samaritan's  oil  to  pour  upon  the 
external  wounds  of  a  feiiow-creature, 
the  care  of  the  bruised  spirit  it  leaves 
to  holier  hands. 

The  reverend  synod  again  ask  in 
their  usual  tone,  ^^What  Christian, 
eminent  for  piety,  has  not  abandoned 
his  intercoorse  with  them  ?''  In  this 
question  there  is  something  more  spe- 
cific, and  there  is  a  possibility  of  an- 
swering it,  which  will  be  done,  not  as 
fully  as  could  be  if  room  were  afibrd- 
od,  but  sufficiently  to  remove  any 
doubt  from  the  minds  of  the  reverend 
synod,  if  such  doubts  really  eonst. 
The  reverend  James  Milnor,*^  of  New- 
York,  late  grand  master  of  Pennsylva- 
nia, continues  as  devoted  to  the  cause 
of  Masonry,  since  he  has  taken  orders 
as  a  preacher  of  the  gospel,  as  he  was 
whibt  delighting  the  ears  of  '<  a  lis- 
tening senate,''  or  leading  in  chains 
the  minds  of  a  Philadelphia  jury.  This 
gentleman's  piety,  it  is  presumed,  can- 
not be  doubted,  since  it  is  notorious 
that  he  forsook  a  most  lucrative  prac- 
tice, and  great  legal  fame,  to  take  up 
the  cross  of  Christ.  But  as  the  rev- 
erend synod  may  think  that  the  con- 
duct of  an  J^piacopalian  minister  does 

*Tbe  reverend  James  Milnor  is  now 
mnd  chaplaia ;  and  the  reverend  Benry 
G.  Feltus,  a  gentleman  equally  distinguish- 1 
ed  for  hb  exemplary  piety,  b  demitv  grand 
cbaiflain  to  the  gmud  lodge  of  tne  state 
ofNew-Yoik«  MtaudcRtgitUr. 


not  afibrd  a  case  in  point,  a  few  exam- 
ples shall  be  ofiered  from  their  owo 
persuasion:  the  late  reverend  James 
Ingles,  of  Baltimore,  who  was  at  the 
head  of  the  church  in  Maryland,  coin 
tinned  firm  in  the  cause  of  Masonry, 
to  the  last  hour  of  hb  life :  the  laile 
reverend  James  Muir,  of  Aiexanckiay 
was  not  only  a  warm  Mason,  bat,  to 
the  day  of  his  death,  was  chaplain  to 
Washington  lodge,  over  which  Wash- 
ington long  presided ;  and  finally,  it 
being  unnecessary  to  swell  the  cata- 
logue to  greater  extent,  the  late  reve- 
rend Robert  Steele,  of  this  city,  was 
unremitting  in  his  Masonic  fervour; 
and  a  better  Christian  and  worthier 
man,  it  is  humbly  believed,  is  not  m 
the  niinbtry. 

The  string  of  synodical  interrogato- 
ries and  exclamations  is  closed  by  the 
following  sentence,  in  which  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  say  whether  pride  or  illibeFaliC^f 
is  most  conspicuous ;  at  all  events,  it 
contains  a  sentiment  which  was  not  to 
have  been  expected  from  the  commil- 
tee  of  a  reverend  synod,  reporting  om 
religious  subjects :  ^<  How  humiliating 
(exclaims  these  expounders  of  the  At^ 
nUlitff  and  gospel  of  Christ)  and  dis- 
gusting must  it  be,  to  persons  of  int^ 
ligence  and  taste,  to  mingle  ia  the 
close  intimacy  of  brotherhood  wick 
those  whose  society  they  would  spora 
on  all  ordinary  occasions."  The  rev* 
erend  synod,  whose  iutelligence,if  not 
taste,  the  world  has  ample  reason  to 
doubt,  are  informed,  that  Masons  nev- 
er '^mingle  in  close  intimacy  with 
those  whose  company  they  would  avoiii 
on  any  occasion."  If  a  brother  has  be> 
come  so  lost  to  decency  and  dectmua 
as  to  be  an  improper  companion  for 
a  citizen,  he  is  excluded  from  all  oon^ 
munication  in  a  lodge.  But  if  the 
reverend  synod  meant  to  charge  the 
Masons  with  a  want  of  aristocratic 
distinctions,  the  fraternity  plead  guil- 
ty; there  is  nothing  aristocratic  in 
Masonry ;  the  king  and  the  humblest 
dtiien  in  a  lodge  meet  upon  the  levei^ 
and  part  upon  the  square:  and  al- 
though  inteliigeoceaiuitaite  are  hi^ 

Digitized  by  VjOOQiC 


MAsomc. 


347 


ly  estimated  by  the  brotherhood,  yet 
me  qiiaiifications  of  the  heart  are  the 
grand  standard  of  appreciation.  Ma- 
sonry is  modest  and  meek ;  and  ever 
keeps  in  mind  the  humility  of  the  Son 
of  God,  of  which  so  many  examples 
are  recorded  by  the  Evangelists:  it 
was  instituted  for  benevolent  purposes, 
and  not  to  establish  orders  in  society. 

With  one  more  remark,  the  lodges 
of  the  city  of  Pittsburgh  will  close 
diis  tbeir  protest  against  the  report  of 
the  synod  of  Pittsburgh.  The  com- 
mittee most  disingenuously  insinuate 
tiMU  the  secret  meetings  <^  the  order 
Biay  be  made  dangerous  to  the  inter- 
ests of  the  government.  The  folly  of 
Ms  sentiment  is  too  apparent  to  merit 
a  denial :  the  accusation  might  be 
plausible  coming  from  the  holy  inqui- 
sition of  Spain,  or  from  the  late  cabi- 
net of  the  bigot  Ferdinand ;  tkey  had 
cause  to  dread  associations  of  every 
kind,' and  it  was  their  interest  to  keep 
the  ndnds  of  the  people  as  much  en- 
thralled as  tbeir  bodies:  light  was 
dangerous :  but  in  a  free  country  the 
suspicion  is  idle ;  and  more  than  pro- 
bable was  never  entertained  by  the 
reverend  synod  themselves.  The  first 
•f  American  patriots  were  distinguish- 
ed Masons,  and  their  conduct  is  the 
best  guarantee  for  the  purity  of  the 
order  generally.  Washington  was 
grand  master  of  Virginia,  Franklin 
•f  Pennsylvania,  and  Warren  of  Mas- 
sachusetts; and  whilst  history  is  wear- 
ily the  wreath  of  immortality  for  diese 
patrioU,  Masonry  may  be  excused,  if, 
in  the  fuhiess  of  heart,  she  exclaim, 
<«  They  too  wer^  brothers  !*' 

The  lodges  of  the  city  of  Pitts- 
Imrgb,  in  entering  the  above  protest 
against  the  intemperate  report  of  the 
severend  synod,  deprecate  the  idea  of 
arraying  theipselves  agaiqst  the  clergy 
of.  any  denomination  \  they  yiew  the 
report  as  a  work  of  supererogation, 
cuculated  to  do  more  harm  than  good 
to  the  cause  of  religion ;  and  they  are 
certain  that  the  great  body  of  the  min- 
iatry  will  mark  it  with  the  most  de* 
ci^  oansore.    Bot  when  the  docu- 


ment was  introduced  into  the  columns 
of  a  popular  journal,  aiid  by  that 
means  acquired  an  extensive  circula- 
tion, the  fraternity  could  not  avoid 
coming  forth  in  self  defence ;  if  they 
had  not,  the  brotherhood  abroad  would 
have  had  ample  cause  to  call  them  to 
a  strict  account,  for  they  must  have 
concluded  that  their  conduct  must 
have  been  bad  indeed,  to  have  given 
rise  to  such  language  as  is  contained 
in  the  report.  Whilst  the  objection  to 
Masonry  is  confined  to  the  hurtless 
ridicule  of  individuals,  who  aflect  to 
sneer  at  some  of  the  forms  and  cere- 
monies of  the  order,  or  to  general  ani- 
madversions on  the  ioteroperaiM:e  of  a 
few  unfortunate  members,  the  unob* 
trusive  spirit  of  Masonry  submits  in 
silence ;  it  shudders  at  the  iron  sound 
of  disputation  and  argument,  where 
the  absence  of  Masonic  light  prevents 
conviction;  and  if  it  has  failed  on 
many  occasions  to  bring  back  an  err- 
ing brother  to  the  paths  of  virtue,  it  is 
also  to  be  lamented,  that  the  reverend 
clergy  themselves  frequently  fail,  al- 
though aided  by  the  superior  light  of 
the  gospel  itself.  But  when  the  char- 
ges assume  the  imposing  attitude  of  a 
synodical  report,  silence  would  sub- 
ject them  to  just  suspicion.  They 
have  repelled  the  charges,  and  they 
hope  with  decorum ;  as  a  body,  they 
have  no  desire  to  prolong  the  scene  of 
crimination.  If,  however,  the  dignity 
of  the  order  should  require  it,  it  will 
be  found  that  the  mildness  of  Masonry 
is  equalled  by  her  firmness. 
By  order  of  the 

Lodges  of  Pittsburgh. 


To  ihe  editor  of  the  Mtitonic  Register. 

Cqufanion  Pratt, 

Observing,  in  a  report  prefotory  to 
certain  resolutiops  on  the  subject  of 
Free  Masonry,  recommended  to  be 
adopted  by  the  synod  of  Pittsbuigh, 
^  the  following  queries;  whi(jh,from  the 
preceding,  and  subsequent  observa- . 
tioiiSi  might  easily  be  mistaken  for 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


248 


MASONIC. 


asiertions,  clodied  in  the  guise  of  can- 
dour, to  give  them  peculiar  freedom 
and  effect ;  it  being,  however,  more 
charitable  to  consider  them  as  indica* 
tive  of  a  sincere  wish  for  information, 
they,  together  with  the  few  remarks 
which  occurred  at  tiie  moment,  are 
transmitted  for  publication,  if  you 
deem  them  worthy  a  place. 

1 .  <<  How  humiliating  and  disgusting 
must  it  be  to  persons  of  imelligence 
and  taste,  to  mingle  in  the  close  inti- 
macy of  brotherhood  with  those 
whose  society  they  mtm  on  all  ordi- 
nary  occasions  V^  In  all  this  we  dis- 
cover no  imputation  that  was  not  laid 
to  the  charge  of  Christ  himself  while 
on  earth  :  he  was  even  accused  of  be- 
ing the  friend  and  associate  of  publi- 
cans and  sinners ;  and  gave  command 
to  all  his  followers  to  let  their  light 
so  shine  before  men,  that  others  seeing 
their  good  works,  might  glorify  Ood. 
The  Jews  of  that  day  felt  their  pride 
wounded,  that  one  who  was  bom  their 
king,  should  proclaim,  and  treat  as 
brethren,  those  whom  they^  on  all  OC' 
casionsy  were  wont  to  spttm.  Hence 
they  became  ibetmwiUing  instruments 
of  accomplishing,  what  they  vainly 
strove  to  prevent,  the  purposes  ofdi- 
vine  mschnL 

2.  ^^  At  how  great  a  risk  does  any 
one,  especially  an  unguarded  youth, 
enter  an  association,  embracing  with 
equal  affection,  the  Pagan,  the  Turk, 
and  the  Christian  ?*'  In  the  Old  Tes- 
tament we  are  taught  that  the  universe 
is  the  handy  work  of  one  Supreme 
Being,  and  that  all  men  are  descend- 
ants from  one  common  parent ;  in  the 
New,  as  brethren  of  one  common 
family,  (in  our  devotions)  to  suppli- 
cate our  Heavenly  Father  to  be  gra- 
cious to  us,  as  we  are  charitable  to 
others.  And  as  Christ  is  proclaimed 
the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  light  5  the 
light  of  the  world,  that  lightedi  every 
one  that  cometh  into  it ;  a  light  shi- 
ning in  darkness,  though  the  darkness  I 
comprehendedi  it  not,  it  is  difficult 
to  perceive  what  risk  the  Pagan  or 
Turk  runs  in   associating  with  the  | 


Christian ;  or  what  risk  the  Christian, 
runs  by  following  the  example  of  his 
Lord  and  Master. 

3.  "  How  many  mournftil  instances 
of  degradation  and  ruin,  both  to  the 
bodies  and  souls  of  men,  may  be  tra- 
ced to  a  communication  and  inter- 
course with  such  characters  as  too 
generally  compose  the  lodges  of  our 
country?'*  In* this  we  discover  only 
an  uncharitable  attack  upon  a  large 
and  respectable  portion  of  the  com- 
munity, embracing  many  of  the  first 
characters  in  the  union ;  indicative  of 
a  want  of  that  humility,  which  has 
ever  been  considered  a  distinguishing- 
characteristic  of  the  followers  of  the 
meek  and  lowly  Jesus ;  and  that  un- 
feigned piety  which  constitutes  the 
savour  of  the  salt  of  the  earth. 

4.  "What  Christian  eminent  for 
piety  has  not  abandoned .  his  inter- 
course with  them  ?"  Comment  is  un- 
necessary, upon  what  appears  equally 
a  sarcasm  upon  the  many  professing 
Christians  and  eminent  divines,  who 
are  members  of  the  fraternity;  and 
who  are  not  surpassed  by  any  in  the 
exercise  of  the  Christian  graces,  and 
the  practice  of  every  moral  and  sociid 
virtue.  The  true  description  of  that 
piety  for  which  the  enemies  of  Mm^ 
sonry  are  eminent,  may  be  most  pro- 
fitably studied  in  the  character  of  the 
Spanish  inquisition,  the  See  of  Rmne^ 
and  the  Bbhop  of  Winchester,  who 
have  severally  published  their  bulls, 
and  fulminated  their  thunders  against 
the  fraternity. 

5.  ^^  Is  such  a  fellowship  at  all  con- 
sistent with  communion  #ith  the  peo- 
ple of  God,  and  with  the  Father  and 
his  Son  Jesus  Christ  ?^   Without  at- 
tempting to  define  the  precise  mean- 
ing  of  the  term  people  of  God,  as  hero 
used,  it  may  be  sufficient  to  remark 
that  it  is  beyond  the  reach  of  hnmatt 
effort  to  set  boundaries  to  the  doraia*^ 
ion,  or  comprehend  the  wisdom,  pow- 
er, and  goodness  of  Deity ;  and  sad 
indeed  would  be  the  situation  of  mor-i^ 
tals,  was  divine  grace  subject  totfaefe 
control  of  the  caprice^  prqudtce,  s^*^ 


MAaOMf. 


249 


perflition,  or  faaaticifiii  of  any  portioo 
of  the  boraan  race. 

6.  ^<  What  Christian  has  ever  un- 
proved in  piety  by  entering  a  Mason- 
ic lodge,  and  holding  communion  and 
followship  with  its  members  ?''  AU 
thoiigh  ao  Mason  ever  professed  io  be 
DMMre  pious  than  the  worshippers  of 
tW  true  Oody  or  more  virtuous  thaa 
the  Christian  of  any  sect  or  denomi- 
aatioQ,  or  even  better  than  his  neigh- 
bour^ yet  who  amongst  the  greia 
&niily  ojf  mankind,  it  may  with  pro* 
priety  be  asked,  has  ever  been  too 
pious  to  pay  his  devotions  to  the  ^ 
preme  Architect  of  the  universe  ?  or 
too  virtuous  to  practice  the  moral  and 
social  duties  inculcated  in  the  divine 
law  ?  Jf  any,  let  him  bear  testimony 
against  tlie  principles  of  Free  Ma- 
sonry. 

7.  **What  youth  have  they  ever 
reclaimed  f^^  The  insidiousoess  of 
this  question  may  be  fairly  tested,  by 
considering  the  application  of  the 
term  as  used  by  sectarians,  who  con- 
sider an  in  erroTy  who  do  not  sub- 
scribe to  their  particular  creed. 

8.  ^What  reformation  have  they 
ever  effected  ?"  Many,  both  in  man- 
ners and  morals :  by  inculcating  the 
true  principles  of  civilisation,  and  en- 
couraging free  toleration.  They  have 
not  been  surpassed  by  any  human  in- 
institution,  in  ^ving  facility  to  the 
spread  of  the  gospel  of  Christ ;  nor 
kaive  they  been  outdone  by  any  in  the 
practice  of  that  charity  which  doeth 
DO  ill,  knoweth  no  ill,  nor  even 
Ibinks  ill,  but  beafs  away  upon  its 
balmy  wings  in  the  peHWe  gale, 
every  productioB  calculated  to  give 
offence. 

9.  ^  What  good  moral  efiects  have 
they  product  ?"  As  this  is  partially 
involved  in  the  preceding  question, 
and  opens  an  extensive  field  for  discus- 
sion, we  shall  make  it  a  subject  of 
subsequent  communication,  and  close 
the  present  with  that  awful  message  of 
St«  John,  delivered  to  the  world,  that 
^  God  b  light,  and  in  him  is  no  dark-  H 


aess  at  all;"  and  that   we  are  not  H  the  profession ;  and  £E>r  your  zeal  and 

H    h  .  Digitized  by  CjOOQIC 


worthy  of  the  true  followihip,  ^un- 
Im  we  walk  in  the  Ugki  and  do  Um 
trutk.'^  L.  S. 

Fob  tbb  Maioiiic  RaeiSTBa. 

On  reaittNf  M«  np^  9/ the  emnmiUet  of 

the  tynod  of  PUttburgh. 
Oh  wyt  Bball  the  art  now  decay, 

Which  has  rivall'd  the  empire  of  timt ; 
Has  mock'd  at  the  batths's  array, 

Aad  louriili'd  in  every  dime  ? 

When  the  standard  of  virtue  lies  low, 
And  anarchy's  banner's  nnforl'd, 

Then  strike  on  the  wild  harp  of  woe, 
Fer  Maaoufy  flies  from  tha  woiid. 

Till  then  Its  fair  temple  shall  standi 
Supported  hjr  friendship  and  love ; 

For  Hs  arch  must  spread  over  each  iand^ 
And  encircle  the  regions  above. 

We  Dity  the  effbns  of  those 
Who  fain  would  our  fabric  deform ', 

For  firmer  and  stronger  it  grows, 
And  thrives  like  the  oak  in  the  storm. 
fiuoBmvf. 


A.X  ADDRESS, 
Delivered  hy  a  noble  Brother  to  kii 
soTiy  on  his  Jirst  imtitUion  inio 
Free  Mfuonry. 

I  congratulate  you  on  your  admis- 
sion into  the  most  ancient,  and  per* 
haps,  the  most  respectable  society  in 
the  universe.  To  you  the  mysteries 
of  Masonry  are  about  to  be  revealed  \ 
and  so  bright  a  sun  never  showed  lus- 
tre on  vour  eyes.  In  this  awful  mo- 
meiit>  when  prostrate  at  this  holy  altar, 
do  you  not  shudder  at  every  crime, 
and  have  jou  not  confidence  in  every 
virtue!  May  this  reflection  inspire 
you  with  noble  sentiments ;  may  you 
be  penetrated  with  a  religious  abhor* 
rence  of  tsery  vice  that  degrades  hu- 
man nature^  and  may  you  feel  the 
elevation  of  soul  which  scorns  a  dis- 
honourable action,  and  ever  invites  to 
the  practice  of  piety  and  virtue. 

These  are  the  wishes  of  a  father 
and  a  brother  conjoined.  Of  you  the 
greatest  hopes  are  raised ;  let  not  our 
expectations  be  deceived.  You  are 
the  SON  OF  A  MASON,  wha  glories  in 


250 


MAlMAc. 


attachment,  yoor  silence  and  good 
conduct,  your  father  has  already 
pledged  his  honour. 

You  are  now,  as  a  member  of  this 
illustrious  order,  introduced  a  subject 
of  4  new  country,'  whose  extent  is 
bo^^ndiess.  Pictures  are  open  to  your 
view,  wherein  true  patriottsBi  is  ex- 
emplified in  glaring  colours,  and  a  se- 
ries of  transactions  recorded,  which 
the  rude  hand  of  time  can  never  erase. 
The  obligations  which  influenced  the 
first  Brutus  and  Manlius  to  sacrifice 
their  children  to  the  love  of  their 
country,  are  not  more  sacred  than 
those  which  bind  me  to  support  the 
honour  and  reputation  of  this  venera- 
ble order. 

This  moment,  my  son,  you  owe  to 
me  a  second  birth ;  should  yonr  con- 
duct in  life  correspond  with  the  prin- 
ciples of  Masonry,  my  remaining 
years  will  pass  away  with  pleasure 
and  satisftMition.  Observe  the  great 
example  of  our  ancient  masters,  pe- 
ruse our  history  and  our  constitutions. 
The  best,  the  most  humane,  the 
bravest,  the  most  civilized  of  men, 
have  been  our  patrons.  Though  the 
vulgar  are  strangers  to  our  works,  the 
greatest  geniuses  have  sprung  from  our 
order.  The  most  illnstrious  charac- 
ters on  the  earth  have  aided  the  foun- 
dation of  their  most  amiable  qualities 
in  Masonry.  The  wisest  of  princes, 
Solomon,  planned  our  instftuti<m,  and 
raised  a  temple  to  the  eternal  and  su- 
preme Ruler  of  the  universe. 

Swear,  my  son,  that  you  will  be  a 
true  and  faitliful  Mason.  Know,  from 
this  moment,  I  centre  the  affection  of 
a  parent  in  the  name  of  a  brother  aikl 
a  friend.  May  your  heart  be  suscept- 
ible of  love  and  esteem,  and  may  yon 
burn  with  the  same  iseal  your  father 
ponsesses.  Convince  the  world  by 
your  new  alliance  you  are  deserving 
our  favours,  and  never  forget  the  ties 
which  bind  you  to  honour  and  to  jus- 
tice. - 

View  not  with  indifference  the  ex- 
tensive connections  you  have  formed, 
but  let  universal  benevolence  regulate 


yoor  conduct.  Exert  yoor  abfUtiet 
in  the  service  of  your  kin^,  and  your 
country,  and  deem  the  knowledge  yon 
have  this  day  attained,  the  happiese 
acquisition  of  your  life. 

Kecal  to  yoor  memory  the  ceremo- 
ny of  your  initiation ;  learn  to  bridle 
your  tongue,  and  govern  yoor  pa»-, 
sioos ;  and  ere  long  you  will  have  oc- 
casion to  say ;  ^  In  becoming  a  Ma- 
son, I  truly  become  a  man ;  and  while 
I  breathe  will  never  disgrace  a  jewel 
that  kings  may  prize.'' 

If  I  live,  my  son,  to  reap  the  froNa 
of  this  day's  labour,  my  liappiness 
wHl  be  complete.  I  will  meet  dea^ 
without  terror,  close  my  eyes  in  peace, 
and  expire,  without  a  groan,  in  die 
arms  of  a  vutoous,  and  a  worthy 
Free  Mason. 

**  Fathers  alone  a  father's  heart  can  know 
What  secret  tides  of  still  enjoyment  flow 
When  brothers  love ;  but  if  their  hate  soe^ 

ceedsy 
They  wage  the  war,  but  'tis  the  father 
-     bleeds." 

^  -^  -< 

OF  THE  THREE  FIRST  DEGREES  OF 
MASONRY. 

The  three  first  degrees  of  Masonry, 
are  those  of  the  entered   apprkn- 

TICK,  FELLOW  CRAPT,  and  MASTER  MA- 

soNj  and  though  each  of  these  d^ees, 
has  its  peculiar  beauties,  the  latter 
is  much  more  important,  and  sublime, 
and  far  exceeds  the  preceding,  In  sa- 
eredness  and  solemnity. 

THE  ENTERED  APPRENTICK. 
THE  FIRST  LECTURE 

Is  divided  into  sections,,  in  wlucfa 
virtne  is  most  beautifully  painted,  and 
morality  strictly  enforced;  many  im. 
portant  lessons  are  deeply  impressed 
upon  the  mind,  and  all  the  social  ¥ir> 
tues  inculcated. 

THE   FIRST   SECTION, 

Which  is  suited  to  all  capacities, 
and  ought  to  be  well  Icnown  to  every 
Mason,  uiffolds  an  unbounded  field  for 
speculation,  and  communicates  much 
useful,  and  highly  interestii^  knowl- 
edge.  It  qualifies  us  to  try  and  exam- 
ine the  rights  of  others  to  our  privile- 

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WAMMC. 


231 


«%akdaMbfet  mtoprmfe  owrtehres. 
kiemiads  us  of  our  entire  dependence 
Ml  tlie  superintending  band  of  Provi- 
dknee,  tnd  our  duties  to  each  others 
and  serves  as  an  hitrodw^ion  to  sub- 
jects afterwards  more  fully  explained. 

It  is  the  indispensaUe  duty  of  every 
■aater  of  a  lodge,  previous  to  the  ini- 
^atioD  of  a  can<ydate,  to  inform  him  of 
tke  purpose  and  design  of  the  instito- 
lion,  to  explain  to  him  the  na^ire  and 
sokimity  of  the  engagements  into 
which  he  is  about  to  enter ;  and  in  a 
■Mnnef  peculiar  to  our  order,  to  require 
hm  (^eerfbl  assent  to  the  duties  of 
BonMty  t  and  all  the  sacred  tenets  of 
fbe  fratiemity. 

In  this  section  is  explained,  that  pe» 
•■liar  ensign  of  Masonry,  the  lams- 
skin,  or  whits  LEATHER  APXeN,  whlch 
is  ao  emblem  of  iimocence,  and  the 
badge  of  a  Mason ;  more  ancient  than 
the  golden  fleece,  or  the  Roman  eagle ; 
more  honourable  than  the  star  and 
garter,  or  any  other  order  that  could 
be  emkrred  on  the  candidate  at  the 
lime  of  his  initiation,  or  at  any  subse- 
^aeat  time,  by  Idng,  prince,  potentate, 
ar  any  other  person  except  he  be  a 
Mason,  aad  which  every  one  ought  to 
wear  with  equal  pleasure  to  himself, 
and  honour  to  the  fraternity. 

Tins  section  is  closed  with  an  ez- 
fbnation  of  the  twxntt-poub  inch 
OCAGX,  and  the  common  ga vsl,  which 
are  the  working  tools  of  an  entered 


i  TWENTT-rOUB  INCH  OUAOE,  IS 

t^  operative  Masons  to  measure 
and  kiy  out  their  work ;  but  we\  as 
ipecalative  Masons,  are  taught  to  use 
jtibramore  glorious  and  noble  pur- 
Ipsse,  that  uf  BMiking  a  suitable  division 
al  o»r  time.  Its  twenty-four  equal 
parts  are  emblematical  of  the  twciity 
iimr  hours  in  a  day,  which  Masonry 
teaches  us  to  divide  into  three  equal 
■art%  whereby  we  may  find  eight  hours 
If  tbe  service  of  God,  and  a  worthy 
Imnber  in  distress ;  eight  hours  for 
IwMKiiUy  and  eight  for  refreshment 

^ht  GOUMON  ^avxl  is  Msedftby  op- 


erative Masons,  to  bredc  off  the  cor* 
ners  of  rough  stones,  the  better  to  fit 
them  for  tM  use  of  the  builder ;  but 
we,  as  speculative  Masons  are  taught 
to  use  it  for  a  more  glorious  and  no- 
ble purpose,  thiu  of  divesting  our  minds 
and  consciences,  of  the  vices,  super- 
fluities, and  prejudices  of  life,  thereby 
fitting  our  bodies,  as  living  stones,  for 
that  spiritual  building,  not  made  with 
hands,  eternal  in  the  Heavens. 

The  following  passages  of  Scripture 
may  be  read  or  rehearsed  during  the 
time  of  initiating  a  candidate : 

^^  I  will  bring  the  blind  by  a  way 
that  they  know  not ;  I  will  lead  them 
in  paths  that  they  have  not  known ;  I 
will  make  the  darkness  light  before 
them;  and  crooked  things  straight; 
these  things  will  I  do  unto  them  and 
I  will  not  forsake  them. 

<<  Trust  in  the  Lord  with  all  thine 
heart ;  and  lean  not  to  thine  own  ui^ 
derstanding* 

<<  In  all  Uiy  ways  acknowledge  hira^ 
and  he  shall  direct  thy  paths. 

<<  Turn  not  to  the  right  hand  nor 
to  the  left ;  remove  thy  feet  from  eviL 

<<  In  the  beginning  God  created  the 
heaven  and  the  earth.  And  the  earth 
was  without  form  and  void,  and  dark- 
ness was  on  the  face  of  the  deep.  And 
the  spirit  of  God  moved  upon  the  face 
of  the  waiters.  And  God  said,  Let 
diere  be  light,  and  there  was  light." 

For  a  sdtable  prayer,  together  with 
a  charge  at  initiation  into  the  first  de* 
gree,  ue  reader  is  referred  to  number 
VI,  p^e  205. 

THE  SECCmO   SECTION 

Accounts  for  the  various  peculiar 
ibrms  and  ceremonies  used  at  the  ini- 
tiation of  a  candidate  into  the  ancient 
mysteries  of  Masonry,  and  demon- 
strates the  propriety  of  our  rites,  as 
well  as  their  excellence  and  utility.  It 
teaches  us  our  duty  of  making  daily 
progress  in  the  art,  pursuing  the  paths 
of  virtue,  practising  justice  with  all 
mankind,  and  accurately  elucidating 
those  symbolical  mysteries,  tending 
to  embellish  aod  adorn  the  mind.  The 
attention  b  engaged,  and  very  serious 

Digitized  by  VjOOQiC 


2dS 


luaoictc. 


and  solemn  tmtht  «vfttiiiprtnted  on  tiM 
memory,  by  every  tbkig  that  strikes 
Ae  eye;  each  figure  and  emUem  hav* 
iDg  a  moral  tendency,  and  beinr  cal- 
culated to  inculcate  the  principles  of 
virtue. 

THC  TUtlUI  SBCTf ON 

Expluns  the  nature  and  pnnciples 
of  our  constitution,  teaches  us  &ith- 
fully  to  dncharge  ^e  duties  of  our  re- 
spective stations,  instructs  us  relative 
to  the  forms,  support,  coverings,  fur- 
niture, ornaments,  lights,  and  jewels 
of  a  lodge;  how  it  ahould  be  situ- 
ated,  and  to  whom  dedicated;  while  a 
proper  attention  is  paid  to  our  ancient 
and  venerable  patrous. 

Masonry  is  not  confined  to  any  par- 
ticular section  of  the  globe ;  ito  bounds 
being  mat  ked  by  the  circuit  of  the  sun, 
and  its  cohering  no  less  than  the  canoi' 
py  of  Heaven,  fftw/oia,  s/rew^A,  and 
beauty^  are  said  to  be  its  supports ;  as 
all  great  and  important  undertakings, 
require  wisdom  to  contrive,  strength 
to  support,  and  beauty  to  adorn  them. 
Faithy  kopey  and  charity^  ara,  in  this 
section,  represented  by  the  three  prin* 
cipal  rounds  of  the  ladder  which  the 
patriarch  Jacob  discovered  in  his  vi^ 
sion,  ascending  from  earth  to  Heaven ; 
which  admotiifAies  us  to  have  faith  m 
God,  hope  in  immortality,  and  to  the 
exercises  of  charity  towards  all  man- 
kind. 

Every  well  governed  lodge  b  fur- 
nished with  the  Holy  Bibky  the 
square  J  and  the  compose.  The  Bibk, 
that  ine<4timable  gift  of  God  to  man, 
is  dedicated  to  the  bountiful  giver, 
and  points  out  the  path  that  leads  to 
eternal  happiness.  The  squarSy  which 
is  dedicated  to  the  master  of  the  lodge, 
being  the  proper  emblem  of  his  office, 
teaches  us  to  regulate  our  conduct  by 
the  principles  of  morality  and  vhlue, 
and  serves  constantly  to  remind  the 
master  of  the  doty  he  owes  the  lodge. 
The  comjKiss^  which  is  dedicated  to 
the  crafty  teaches  us  to  limit  our  de- 
sires, in  whatever  station  we  may  be 
placed,  and  to  keep  our  passions  with- 
in due  bounds. 


The  ommmmM  parts  of  a  todge^ 
here  displayed,  are  the  Moeotc  /MRie- 
msjtf,  the  indent^  temely  and  tha 
bbBcingstar.  The  Af osot  c  jMSOfMotf 
represent  the  ground  floor  of  \sk% 
Sotomon's  temple;  the  indent^  fet> 
sdy  that  beaatiAdly  tesseUatad  bordkr 
or  skirtii^  by  which  it  was  sontMod- 
ed;  aid  the  Hazing  star  in  the  cen- 
tre, is  commemorative  of  that  star 
which  appeared  to  the  wise  men  of 
the  east,  to  guide  them  to  the  plaee  of 
the  birth  of  our  Sarioiir.  TheJHbtiM 
pavemeid  is  also  emblematical  of  fa»- 
man  life,  which  in  all  stages,  is  ui  a 
degree  chequered  with  good  and  avil ; 
the  border  with  which  it  is  encircled, 
is  indicative  of  the  numerous 4iioas- 
ings  and  comforts  which  surround  ns, 
and  whioh  we  may  hope  to  obtain, 
by  a  fkithful  reliance  on  tlurt  Divine 
Providence,  which  is  hieroglyphkallj 
represented  by  the  Uaxing  star  in 
the  centre. 

Our  attention  in  this  section  is  riao 
called  to  the  moneii&le  and  iaunov^ 
ablejewels. 

The  roii^A  stshler  is  a  stone,  M  ta- 
ken from  the  quarry  in  its  rude  and 
natural  stale,  and  serves  to  remiad  us^ 
of  dur  rude  and  imperfect  state  bj 
nature,  forcibly  exeoiplifying  the  spo- 
tnilative  use  of  the  common  gaveL 
The  perfect  ashler,  is  a  stone  ready 
prepared  by  the  workmen,  to  be  ad- 
justed by  the  tools  of  the  fellow  craft, 
and  serves  to  remind  us  of  that  stata 
of  perfettion  at  which  we  may  hope 
to  arrive,  through  the  means  <^  a  viiw 
tuoQs  education,  and  our  own  eodc^ 
vours,  with  the  blessing  of  God.  The 
trestle  board,  is  that  on  which  the 
master  workman  draws  hti  des^;n^ 
and  serves  to  remind  us,  that  as  the 
operative  workman  rears  his  tempo- 
ral building  agreeably  to  the  rules  and 
designs,  thus  laid  down  by  the  master 
workman  on  his  trestle  board,  ae 
should  we,  both  operative  and  speca- 
lative,  use  oUr  utmost  endeavours  te 
erect  our  spiritual  building,  agreeaUjr 
to  the  rules  and  designs  laid  down  fajr 
the  Supreme  Architect  of  the  uni- 

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e^  in  the  book  of  Kfe^  wUdi  is  our 
iplritoal  trestle  board 

Brotherly  bve,  relief^  truth,  tempe- 
rance,  fortitude,  prudence,  justice,  and 
OBtversal  charity,  are  tbeooes  on  which 
every  true  Mason  delights  to  dwell, 
asd  the  firtnciples  of  whkh  he  will 
•adeavoor  to  enforce,  both  by  pre- 
cept and  example.  But  among  the 
gmttst  of  these  yktues^  is  charity. 

<<  Charity  is  the  chief  of  every  social 
virtue,  and  the  distinguishhig  charac- 
teristic of  Masons.  Thb  virtue  in- 
cludes a  supreme  degree  of  love  to  the 
great  Crec^  and  Governor  of  the 
universe,  and  an  uiriimited  affection 
to  the  beings  of  his  creation,  of  all 
eharaeters  and  of  every  denomination. 
This  last  duty  is  forcibly  inculcated 
fcy  the  example  of  the  Deity  himself, 
who  liberally  dispenses  his  benefi- 
cence to  unnumbered  worlds. 

^  It  is  not  particularly  our  province 
to  enter  into  a  disquisition  of  every 
Iwaiich  of  this  amiable  vhtue;  we 
shall  only  bri^y  state  the  happy  ef> 
lects  of  a  benevolent  disposition  to- 
ward soankind,  and  shew  that  charity, 
exerted  on  proper  objects,  is  the 
greatest  pleasure  man  can  possibly 
eiwoy. 

^  The  bounds  of  the  ^eatest  nap 
-tfott,  or  the  most  extensive  empire, 
cannot  ctrcumscribe  the  generosity  of 
a  liberal  mind.  Men,  in  whatever 
situation  they  are  placed,  are  still,  in 
a  great  measure,  the  same.  They 
are  exposed  to  similar  dangers  and 
misfortunes.  They  have  not  wisdom 
to  foresee,  or  power  to  prevent,  the 
evils  incident  to  homsn  nature.  They 
hang,  as  it  were,  in  a  perpetual  sus- 
pense between  hope  and  fear,  sick- 
ness and  health,  plenty  and  want.  A 
mutual  chain  of  dependence  subsists 
throughout  the  animal  creation.  1  he 
whole  human  species  are  therefore 
proper  objects  for  the  exercise  of  cha- 
rity. 

^  Beings  who  partake  of  one  com- 
mon nature,  ought  to  be  actuated  by 
the  same  motives  and  interests.  I^ence, 
to  joothe  the  unhappy,  by  sympathiz- 


ing with  their  susibrtuses,  and  to  ra» 
store  peace  and  tranquillity  to  agi- 
Uted  spirits,  constitute  the  |eneral 
and  great  ends  of  the  Masonic  institu- 
tion. This  humane,  this  generous  dis* 
position  fires  the  breast  with  manly 
leelings,  and  enlivens  that  spirit  of 
compassion)  which  is  the  gk>ry  of  the 
human  frame,  and  whidi  not  only 
rivals,  but  outshines,  every  other  plea- 
sure the  mind  is  capable  of  enjoying. 

^  AM  human  passions,  when  direct* 
ed  by  the  superior  principle  of  reason, 
proflsote  some  useful  purpose;  but 
compassion  toward  proper  objects,  is 
the  most  beneficial  of  all  the  afi^- 
tions,  and  excites  the  most  lasting  de- 
grees of  happiness;  as  it  extends  to 
greater  numtyers,  and  tends  to  allevi- 
ate the  infirmities  and  evils  whkh  are' 
incident  to  human  existence. 

^Possessed  of  this  amiable,  this 
godlike  disposition,  Masons  are  shock- 
ed at  misery  under  every  form  and 
appearance.  Wh^n  we  behold  an  ob- 
ject pining  under  the  misenes  of  a 
distrened  body  or  mind,  the  healing 
accents  which  flow  from  the  tongue, 
mitigate  the  pain  of  the  unhappy  sul- 
ferer,  and  make  even  adversitv,  in  its 
dismal  state,  look  gay.  When  our 
pity  is  excited,  we  assuage  grief,  and 
ch^rfully  relieve  distress.  If  a  bro- 
ther be  in  want,  every  heart  is  moved ; 
when  he  is  hungry,  we  feed  him; 
when  he  is  naked,  we  clothe  him; 
when  he  is  in  trouble,  we  fly  to  his 
relief.  Thus  we  confirm  the  propri- 
ety of  the  tide  we  bear,  and  convince 
the  world  at  large,  that  brotbee, 
among  Masons,  is  something  more 
than  a  name. 

"  The  most  inveterate  enemies  of 
Masonry  muse  acknowledge,  that  no 
society  is  more  remarkable  for  the 
pi;pctice  of  charity,  or  any  association 
of  men  more  famed  for  disinterested 
liberality.  Our  charitable  esUblish- 
ments  and  occasional  contributions, ex- 
clusive of  private  subscriptions  to  re- 
lieve distress,  prove  that  we  are  ever 
ready  with  cheerfuluess,  in  proportion 
to  our  circumstances,  to  contribute  to 

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idleviate  the  mbfertuiies  of  our  feiiow 
creatures.  Considering,  however,  the 
variety  of  objects,  whose  distress  the 
dictates  of  nature,  as  well  as  the  ties 
of  Masonry  incline  us  to  relieve,  we 
find  it  necessary  sometimes  to  inquire 
into  the  cause  of  misfortunes  5  lest  a 
roisconteived  tenderness  of  disposition, 
or  an  impolitic  generosity  of  heart, 
might  prevent  us  from  making  a  pro- 
per  distinction  in  the  choice  of  objects. 
Though  our  ears  are  always  open  lo 
the  distresses  of  the  deserving  poor, 
yet  our  charity  is  not  to  be  dispensed 
with  a  profuse  liberality  on  imf  lostors. 
The  parents  of  a  numerous  offspring, 
who,  through  age,  sickness,  infirmity, 
or  any  unforeseen  accident  in  life,  are 
reduced  to  want,  pariiculariy  claim  our 
attention,  and  seldom  fail  lo  experi- 
ence the  happy  effects  of  our  friendly 
association.  To  such  objects,  whose 
situation  b  more  easy  to  be  conceived 
than  expressed,  we  are  induced  libe- 
rally to  extend  our  bounty.  Hence 
we  give  convincing  proofs  of  wisdom 
and  discernment;  for  though  our  be* 
nevolence,  like  our  laws,  be  unlimited, 
yet  our  hearts  glow  principally  with 
affection  toward  the  deserving  part  of 
mankind. 

^  From  this  view  of  the  advantages 
which  result  from  the  practice  and  pro- 
fession of  Masonry,  every  candid  and 
impartial  mind  must  acknowledge  its 
utility  and  importance  to  the  state; 
and  surely  if  the  picture  here  drawn 
be  just,  it  must  be  no  triffmg  acquisi- 
tion to  any  government,  to  have  under 
its  jurisdiction,  a  society  of  men,  who 
are  not  only  true  patriots,  good  citi- 
zens and  subjects,  but  the  patrons  of 
science,  and  the  friends  of  mankind." 
On  the  other  cardinal  Masonic 
virtues,  we  design,  hereafter,  to  give 
further  illustrations;  and  shall  qpw 
dose  this  section  by  observing,  that 
Masonry,  in  ail  its  degrees,  is  a  regu- 
lar system  of  morality,  and  that  new 
beauties  are  unfolded  to  the  faithful 
inquirer  at  every  step.  On  this  dis- 
tinguished theatre  of  human  action, 
the  noblest  energies  of  our  nature  are 


called  into  exercise,  the  best  aflectloiit 
of  the  soul  are  displayed,  and  the  re* 
ward  which  we  shall  receive,  if  we 
conduct  with  dignity  and  propriety^ 
will  be  the  ^<  testimony  of  our  coobgi- 
ences,"  the  fellowship  of  the  good,  and 
the  approbation  of  our  Supreme  Grand 
Master. 

A  letter  from  the  learned  Mr.  JoHir  LocEx* 
to  the  Right  Honourable  Thomas,  Earl 
of  Pembroke,  with  aa  old  manuscript,  in 
which  the  principles  of  Masoniy  are  ex.- 

plained. 

May  6, 1696- 
My  Lord, 

I  have  at  length,  by  the  help  of  Mr. 
Collins,  procured  a  copy  of  that  man* 
uscript  in  tlie  Qodleian  lAiawryy  which 
you  were  so  curious  to  see :  and  in 
obedience  to  your  lordship's  oon- 
mauds,  I  herewith  send  it  to  you.  MoH 
of  the  notes  annexed  to  it  are  what  I 
made  yesterday  for  the  reading  of  my 
Lady  Masham,*  who  is  become  90 
fond  of  Masonry,  as  to  say,  that  she 
now  more  than  ever  wishes  herself  a 
man,  that  she  might  be  capable  of 
admission  into  the  fraternity. 

The  manuscript,  of  which  this  is 
a  copy,  appears,  to  be  about  a  hundred 
and  sixty  years  old ;  yet,  as  your  lord* 
ship  will  observe  by  the  title,  it  b  iv 
self  a  copy  of  one  yet  more  ancient  by 
about,  one  hundred  years;  for  tlie 
original  is  said  to  have  been  the  hand- 
writing of  King  Henry  VI :  where  thai 
prince  had  it,  is  at  present  an  uncei^ 
tainty :  but  it  seems  to  me  to  be  an 
examination  (taken,  perhaps,  before 
the  king)  of  some  one  of  the  brotbev- 
hood  of  Masons ;  among  whom  |ie  en- 
tered himself,  as  it  is  said,  when  he 
came  out  of  his  minority,  and  thence- 
forth put  a  stop  to  the  persecution 
that  had  been  raised  against  them: 
but  I  must  not  detain  your  lordship 
longer  by  my  prefaces  irom  the  thin^ 
itself. 

*  This  letter  seems  to  have  been  written 
at  Oates,  the  country  seat  of  Sir  Francis 
Masham,  in  Essex,  where  Mr.  Locke  diedi^' 
Oct.  28,  n04».ia  the  73d,year  of  hisage* 

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255 


IknawwA  what  effiKi  the  ^t  of 
Ais  old  pap«r  may  have  opon  your 
lordship ;  hot,  for  my  own  part,  I  can- 
Bot  deoy,  that  it  has  so  much  raised  my 
curioaity^  as  to  induce  me  to  enter  my- 
self into  the  fraternity,  which^  I  am 
determined  to  do  (if  l.may  be  admit- 
ted) the  neit  time  I  go  to  Locdoo, 
and  that  will  be  shortly. 
I  am,  my  lord, 

your  lordship's  most  obedient 
and  mo^t  humble  servant, 
John  Locke. 


QUESTIONS  BY  KKf  G  HEimY  VI. 

Ceriayne  queityom  with  anawereM  to 
ike  $ame  concemynge  the  my  fiery 
of  Af  ACONBTS  ;  wrytienne  by  the 
kande  ofhynge  HwtxKTE^the  eixtke 
of  the  name^  ondfmUhfidLye  copy- 
ed  by  me  (I)  John  Leylandb, 
Antiqaarins,  by  the  commande  of 
kie  (2)  Highneese. 

Th^  be  as  foUowethf , 
<iueet.  What  mote  ytt  be?  (3) 
Arte.  Tttbeeth  the  tXryOe  of  nature, 
the  anderstondynge  of  the  myghte  that 
jrs  hereytme^  and  its  sondrye  werck- 
yngee;  sonderlyche,  the  skylle  of 
rectenynge^  of  waightes,  and  metyngee 
and  the  treu  raanere  of facormynge  al 
tfa3mges  for  mannes  use,  hecuUye, 
dwellynges,  and  buyldynges  of  alle 
kinder,  and  al  odher  tbynges  that  make 
gudde  to  manne. 

Quest.  Where  dyd  ytt  begyne  ? 

(1)  John  LcTtiirDC  was  appointed  by 
Ileiuy  Vni,  at  the  dissolution  of  monaste- 
ries, tor  search  for,  and  save  such  books  and 
records  as  were  valuable  among  them. 
Be  was  a  man  of  great  labour  and  industiy. 

(2)  His  Biobhbssk,  meaning  the  said 
klog  Henry  VUI.  Our  kings  had  not  then 
the  tide  ot  majesty. 

(3)  What  moU  ytt  ht?]  That  is,  what 
may  this  mystery  of  Masonry  be  ?  The  an- 
swer imports,  mat  it  consists  in  natural, 
mathematical,  and  mechanicar knowledge. 
Some  part  of  which  ("as  appears  by  what 
follows)  the' Masons  pretend  to  have  taught 
the  rest  of  mankind,  and  some  part  they 
M\  conceal. 


Ane.  Ytt  dyd  begynne  with  the  (4) 
fyrste  menne  yn  the  £ste,  which  were 
before  the  (5)  fiyrste  manne  of  the 
Weste,  and  coroyi^  westlye,  ytt  bathe 
brought  herwith  alle  comfortes  to  the 
wylde  and  comfortlesse. 

Qitegt,  Who  dyd  brynge  ytt  wes- 
ytle? 

Ane.  The  (6)  Venetians,  whoo  be- 
nynge  grate  merchaundes,  comed 
ffyrste  firomme  the  Este  ynn  Venetian 
fibr  the  commodytye  oi  marchaundv- 
synge  beithe  Cste  and  Weste,  bey  the 
redde  and  Myddlelond^sees. 

Quett.  How  comede  ytt  yn  Eiq[e- 
londe? 

Am,  Peter  Gower  (7)  a  Grecian, 
joumeyedde  ffor  kwmynge  yn  Egypte, 
and  yn  Syria,  and  yn  everyche  londe 
whereae  the  Venetians  hadde  plaun- 
tedde  Maconrye,  wyrmynge  entrance 
yn  al  Lodges  of  Maconnes,^  he  lemed 
muche,  and  retoumedde,  and  woned 

(4)  (6)  Fyntenmmeynthe  uU,  &c.1  It 
should  seem  by  thb,  that  Masons  believe 
there  were  men  in  the  east  betore  Adam,* 
who  is  called  the  *  fl^rrste  manne  of  ths 
weste;*  and  that  arts  and  sciences  begaa 
in  the  east  Some  authors  of  great  note 
for  learning  have  been  of  the  same  opi- 
nion f  and  It  is  certain  that  Europe  and 
Africa  (which,  in  respect  to  Asia,  may  be 
called  western  countries)  were  wild  and 
savage,  long  after  arts  and  politeness  of 
manners  were  in  great  perfection  in  China 
and  the  Indies. 

(6)  7%e  Fenetiant,  &c.]  In  the  times  of 
monkish  iffnorance.  It  is  no  wonder  that 
the  Phenicians  should  be  mistaken  for  the 
Venetians.  Or,  perhaps,  if  the  people  were 
not  taken  one  lor  the  other,  similitude  of 
sound  might  deceive  the  derk  who  first 
took  down  the  examinatioD.  The  Pheni- 
cians were  the  greatest  voyagers  among 
the  ancients,  and  were  in  Europe  thought 
to  be  the  inventors  of  letters,  which  per- 
haps they  brought  from  the  east  with  other 
aHs. 

(7)  Peter  Chwer,]  This  must  be  another 
mistake  of  the  writer  I  was  pusaeled  at 
first  to  guess  who  Peter  Gower  should  be, 
the  name  being  perfectly  English ;  or  how 
a  Greek  should  come  by  such  a  name; 

*  This  is  a  mistaken  idea,  as  to  the  gene- 
ral opinion  of  the  fraternity ;  for  whatever  i 
might  have  been  the  opinion  of  tome  of  tba  { 
ancients,  Masonrv  inculcates  nothing  con^  j 
trarr  to  the  true  letter  of  the  scriptures,  , 

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MAfiOKie. 


7n  Orecia  Magna  TS)  wichtyn^j  and 
becommynge  a  mygtite  (9)  iKyseacre, 
and  gratelyche  renewed,  and  her  be 
framed  a  grate  Lodge  at  Groton  (10) 
and  maked  nHiny  Maconnes,  some 
whereofle  dyd  journeye  yn  Fraunce, 
and  maked  many  Maconnes,  where- 
fromme,  yn  procese  to  tyroe,  the  arte, 
passed  jm  Lngtonde. 

Queit.  Dothe  Maeonnes  detcouer 
there  Artes  unto  odhera? 

Am.  Peter  Gower,  whenoe  he 
joornedde  to  lemne,  was  fiyrste  (11) 
made,  and  anonne  techedde;  evenne 
soe  shulde  alt  odhers  be  yo  recbt. 

But  as  soon  as  I  tbongfat  of  Pytbagons,  I 
could  scarce  forbear  srailiog,  to  fiod  Urat 
pbilosopher  bad  undergone  a  metempsv- 
•hosis  be  never  dreampt  of.  We  need  only 
consider  the  French  pronunciation  of  bn 
name,  Pythagore,  that  is,  Petagore,  to  con- 
ceive how  easily  such  a  nuistake  may  be 
made  by  an  uulearned  cleric.  That  Pytba- 
roros  travelled  for  knowledge  into  Egypt, 
Jic.y  is  known  to  all  the  leai'iied  ;  and  that 
he  was  initiated  into  several  different  or- 
ders of  priests,  who  in  Uiose  days  kejvt  all 
their  learning  secret  from  the  vulgar,  Is  as 
well  known.  Pythagoras  also  made  every 
geometrical  theorem  a  secret,  and  admit- 
ted only  such  to  the  knowledge  of  them, 
AS  bad  first  undergone  a  five  yean  silence. 
He  is  supposed  to  be  the  inventor  of  the 
47th  proposition  of  the  first  book  of  Euclid, 
for  wbicb,  in  the  joy  of  his  heart,  it  is  said 
he  sacrificed  a  hecatomb.  He  also  knew 
the  true  system  of  the  world,  latelv  revived 
by  Copernicus :  and  was  certainly  a  most 
^iv'onderful  maa.  See  his  life  by  Diod.  Hal. 

(8)  Grscia  Maoha,  a  part  of  Italy,  for- 
merly so  called,  in  which  the  Greeks  kad 
fettled  a  large  colony. 

(9)  IViuacre.]  This  word  at  present  sig- 
nifies simpleton,  but  formerly  bad  a  quite 
contrary  meaning.  Wiseacre,  in  the  old 
Saxon,  b  pbilosopher,  wiseman,  or  wizard, 
and  having  been  frequently  used  bt>nical- 
ly,  at  lengith  came  to  have  a  direct  mean- 
ing in  the  ironical  sense.  Thus  Duns  Sco- 
tus,  a  man  famed  for  the  subtilty  and 
acuteness  of  bis  understanding,  has,  by  the 
same  method  of  irony,  given  a  general 
name  to  modem  dunces. 

(10)  GroUm.\  Groton  is  (he  name  of  a 
place  in  England.  The  place  here  meant 
IS  Crotona,  a  city  of  Grecia  Magna,  which 
in  the  time  of  Pythagoras  was  very  popu- 
lous. 

(1 1)  FfyrtU  made.]  The  word  hadb,  I 
fupp<»e,  has  a  particular  meaning  among 
the  Masons}  perhaps  it  iigaifies,  iaitialfd. 


Netheless,  (12)  Mteonaea  hatithe  td- 
wey$  yn  everyche  tyroe  from  tyme  to 
tyme  commanycatedde  to  Mannkynde 
socbe  of  her  secrettes  as  generallycbe 
mygbte  be  osefulle ;  they  haoeth  k^ 
p^  backe  socbe  allien  as  shulde  be 
harmefolle  yff  they  comraed  yn  eoylt 
haudesy  oder  socbe  as  ne  myghte  be 
holpynge  wytbooten  the  tecbynget  to 
be  joynedde  berwythe  in  the  Lodge, 
Oder  socbe  as  do  bynde  the  Frm% 
more  strongelyche  togedert  bey  tht 
profiytte,  and  commodytye  coroyoge 
to  the  Confrerie  berefromme. 

Qices^.  Wbattes  Artes  haiieth  the 
Maeonnes  techedde  maokynde  ? 

j4n$.  The  arts,  (18)  Agricultural 
Architectural  Astronoraia,  Geometria, 
Numeres,  Musica,  PoesiCy  Kjrmiakyoy 
Govemmentey  and  Rely]p^oDe. 

Quest.  Howe  comnc^  Maeonnes 
more  teachers  than  odher  raenne  ? 

Am.  They  kem$elfe  faaueth  aUien 
the  (14)  Arte  of  fyndynce  neue  artes, 
whyche  arte  the  fyrste  Maeonnes  re* 
ceaued  from  Godde ;  by  the  whyche 
arte  they  fyndethe  whatte  artes  hem 
pleseihCf  and  the  true  way  of  tecbynge 

(12)  Macotmei  hmieth  ecmmwtyeaiedde, 
kc.}  This  paragraph  bath  soDietbing  ra- 
OMrkable  in  it  It  cootains  a  iustificatioB 
of  the  secrecy  so  macb  boasted  of  by  Ma* 
sons,  and  so  much  blamed  by  others;  as« 
serting  that  they  have  in  all  ages  discover- 
ed such  things  as  might  be  useifu),  and  that 
they  ooneeal  such  only  as  wooM  be  hatt- 
ful .  either  to  the  world  or  themselves. 
What  these  secrets  are,  we  see  aftarwaids. 

(13)  The  mieM,  M^neuHwa^  kt.]  It  aeeiaa 
a  bolo  pretence,  this,  of  the  Masons,  that 
they  have  taught  mankind  all  these  arts. 
They  have  their  own  authority  for  it ;  and 
I  know  not  bow  we  shall  disprove  tfaem. 
.But  what  appears  most  odd  is,  that  they 
reckon  religion  among  the  arts. 

(14)  Me  offyndmge  neue  artes.']  Th« 
art  of  inventing  arts,  roust  certainly  be  a 
most  useful  cjt.  My  lord  Bacon's  Novani 
Organum,  b  an  attempt  towards  somewhat 
of  the 'same  kind.  But  I  much  doubt,  that 
if  ever  the  Masons  had  it,  they  have  now 
lost  it ;  since  so  few  new  arts  have  been 
lately  invented,  and  so  many  are  Wanted. 
The  idea  I  have  of  aneh  an  art  is,  that  it 
must  be  something  proper  to  be  employed 
in  all  the  sciences  generally,  as  alMbra  is 
in  norabers,  by  the  help  of  whidi  new 
roles  of  arithmetic  are  and  may  be  ibua^ 

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(he  Min^.  Whatt  odher  Menoe  do- 
ethe  fiynde  out,  ys  onelyche  bey 
chance,  aod  berfore  but  lytel  I  tro. 

QuesL.  Whatt  dothe  the  Maconnes 
concele  and  byde  ? 

Ans.  Thay  conceletbe  the  arte  of 
ffyndynge  neue  artes,  and  tbatys  for 
here  owoe  profyete,  and  (15)  preise : 
they  concetetlie  the  arte  of  kepynge 
(16)  secrettes,  that  soe  the  worlde 
mayeth  notbinge  concele  from  them. 
Thay  conceletbe  the  arte  of  Wun- 
derwerckynge,  and  of  foreaayinge 
thynge$  to  comme^  that  soe  thay  samie 
artes  may  not  usedde  of  the  wyckedde 
to  an  euylle  ende;  thay  ako  conce- 

I  Icthe  the  (17)  arte  of  chaunges,  the 
wtyof  wynnynge  the  Facultye(18) 

I  tiCAbraCy  the  sky  lie  of  becommynge 
gode  and  parfygbte  wytbouten  the  ho- 
lypnges  of  fere  and  hope;  and  the 
aoiTerselle  (19)  longage  of  JVlaconnes. 

(15)  ^eiit.]  It  seems  the  Masons  have 
I     ptai  regard  to  the  reputation  as  well  as 
I     2be  profit  of  their^rder »  since  they  make' 
it  one  reason  for  not  divulging  an  art  in 
I     commooy  that  it  may  do  nonour  to  the 
possessors  of  it.    I  think  in  this  particular 
tiMVsbofWtoo  modi  regard  for  tbeir  own 
sodety,  and  too  little  for  the  rest  of  man- 
kind. 
,        (1«)  Arte  of  kepynge  $ecrettes.]     What 
kind  of  an  art  this  is,  I  can  by  no  means 
imazine.    But  certainly  such  an  art  the 
Bla£nf  must  have :   For  though,  as  some 
people  suppose,  they  should  nave  no  se- 
cret at  all,  even  that  must  be  a  secret, 
!     whicbbeinff  discovered,  would  expose  them 
to  the  hisbest  ridicule;  and  therefore  it 
reoujres  the  utmost  caution  to  conceal  it. 

(17)  Arieofdi&iimga,']  I  know  not  what 
this  means,  uoleas  it  be  the  transmutation 
of  metals. 

(18)  FatvJUyt  of  Mrac.l  Here  I  am  ut- 
terW  in  the  dark, 

(19)  VnweneUt  hngage  of  Maeormet.} 
An  univehwl  language  has  been  much  de- 
sired by  the  learned  of  manv  ages.  It  is  a 
thine  rather  to  be  wished  than  hoped  for. 
But  It  seems  the  Masons  pretend  to  have 
such  a  thing  among  them.  If  it  be  true,  I 
guess  it  must  be  something  like  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Pantomimes  among  the  an- 
cient IUhuuis,  who  are  said  to  be  able,  by 
signs  only,  to  express  and  deliver  any  ora- 
tion intelligibly  to  mei>of  all  nations  and 
languages.  A  man  who  has  all  these  arts 
*af  advantages,  is  certainly  in  a  condition 
to  be  envied:  But  we  are  told  that  this  h 


I 


Q.  Wylle  be  tecbe  me  thay  same 
artes? 

A,  Ye  sballe  be  teehedde  yfT  ye  be 
w^rtbye,  and  able  to  leme. 

Q.  Dothe  alle  Macomies  kunne 
more  than  odher  memie  ? 

A.  Not  so.  Thay  onlyche  baneth 
rechty  and  occcuyanne  more  than 
odher  menne  to  kunne,  butt  many 
doeth  fale  yn  capacity,  and  manyc 
more  doth  want  industrye,  thatt  ys 
pemeceBBorye  for  the  gaiiynge  all 
lamnynge, 

Q.  Are  Maconnes  gudder  menne 
then  odhers? 

A.  Some  Maconnes  are  nott  so  ver« 
tuous  as  some  odher  menne ;  but  yn 
the  moste  parte,  thay  be  more  gude 
then  thay  woulde  be  yf  thay  war  not 
Maconnes. 

Q.  Dothe  Maconnes  love  eidther 
odher  myghtyly  as  beeth  sayde  ? 

A,  Yea  verylyche,  and  yt  may  not 
odherwysebe:  for  gude  menne.  and 
true,  kennynge  eidber  odher  to  be 
soche,  doeth  always  love  the  more  as 
thay  be  more  gude. 

not  the  case  with  all  Masons;  for  though 
these  arts  are  among  them,  and  all  have  a 
right  tfnd  an  opportunity  to  know  them, 
yet  some  want  capacity,  and  othen  indus- 
try to  acquire  them. 

However,  of  aH  theur  arts  and  secrets, 
tliat  which  I  most  desire  to  know  is,  *'  the 
skylle  of  becommynge  gude  and  par- 
fyghte;"  and  I  wish  it  were  communi- 
cated to  a)]  mankind,  since  there  is  nothing 
more  true  than  the  beautiful  sentence 
contaiij|d  in  the  last  answer,  <*  that  the 
better  oRi  are,  the  more  they  love  one  an- 
other." Virtue  having  in  itself  something 
so  amiable  as  to  charm  the  hearts  of  all 
that  behold  it. 


A  Olossakt  to  explain  the  words  in 
itaUc  characterMj  as  in  the  forego- 
ing manuscript. 

AUien^  only.    Alweys,  always. 
Beithcy  both. 

Commodytyey  conveniency. 
ConfrertCy  Fraternity. 
Facotmyngey  forming. 
Faresayinge,  prophecying. 
Freresy  brethren.        , 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


258 


MAftONIO. 


Headlye,  cUtty, 

Hem  pleteike,  they  please. 

Hemselfcj  themselves. 

Her,  there^  .their.    Hereynne^  thereto. 

Hertnytky  with  it. 

Holpyngej  beneficial. 

Kunne^  know. 

KunnyngCi  knowledge. 

Make  guddcy  are  beneficial. 

Metyngci^  measures.     MotCy  may. 

MyddleUmdej  Mediterranean. 

Myghte^  power. 

Occasionney  opportunity. 

Oder,  or.     Onelyche,  only. 

Pemecessarye,  absolutely  necessary. 

PreisCy  honour.     Rechty  right. 

Reckenynges,  numbers. 

Sonderlyche,  particularly. 

Skylle,  knowledge. 

Wackaynge,  growing. 

Wercky  operation.     Wey,  way. 

WAere<w,  where.     ^Towec?,  dwelt. 

WuTiderwerckynge,  working  miracles. 

Wylde,  savage.    Wynnyngey  gaining. 

Wyseacrey  learned.     Ymy  into. 

Hxtract  of  a  letter,  from  a  respect- 
able and  much  eHeemed  brothery 
4n  CircleviUey  OhiOy  to  the  editor 
of  the  Masonic  Regittery* dated 
February  10, 1821. 

^'Masonry  flourishes  among  us, 
there  being  now  about  sixty  lodges  in 
the  state,  besides  a  number  of  chap- 
ters of  royal  arch  Masons,  at  Cincin- 
nati, Chillicothe,  Marietta,  Worthiog- 
ton,  &c.  H 

**  The  proceecfings  of  our  grand 
lodge,  at  Columbus,  in  February  last, 
ivhich  I  attended  part  of  the  session, 
will  give  you  a  list  of  all  the  subordi- 
nate lodges,  with  the  names  of  their 
officers,  which  I  will  forward  you,  if 
I  can  procure  a  spare  copy. 

<^  So  far  as  I  can  learn,  your  valu- 
able Magazine  and  Register,  is  very 
well  received  throughout  the  state.'' 

The  above  extract  shows  the  rapid 
increase  of  Masonry,  in  the  growhig 
state  of -Ohio,  which,  according  to  the 
best  information,  three  yean  ago  did 


not   contrin 
lodges. 


more  than   twenty-«g 


HardcadU^M  Annual  Masonic  Regis- 
ter y  and  Pocket  Magazine. 
A  work  under  this  title  has  beea 
regularly  published  in  this  city,  for 
several  years  past,  by  brother  J  one 
Hardcastle.  His  number  for  the 
present  year,  is  now  before  the  public, 
It  contains  a  copious  list  of  lodges, 
chapters,  encampments,  &c.,  togtfther 
with  the  names  of  the  officers  of  the 
different  grades  of  the  order,  in  the 
city  of  New- York;  with  a  list  of  the 
past  masters  of  the  different  lodges, 
Mc.  &c.  It  is  comprised  in  thirty-six 
pages,  neatly  printed  on  good  paper, 
and  sold  for  twenty-five  cents  each. 

We  have  receiv4d  the  copy  of  an 
excellent  oration,  delivered  at  Savan- 
uah,  Georgia,  by  brother  De  La  Motta, 
which  it  was  our  intention  to  have  in- 
serted in  this  number,  but  owing  to 
the  length  of  the  documents  from  Pitts- 
burgh, with  the  remarks,  we  shall  be 
obliged  reluctantly  to  defer  it  till  our 
next. 


MASONIC  ODE. 
Genius  of  Masonry  descend, 

In  mystic  numbers  while  we  sing ; 
Enlaf|e  our  souls,  the  cmft  defend, 

And  hither  all  thy  influence  brioff  ; 
With  social  thoughts  our  bosoms  fiU, 
And  give  thy  turn  to  every  will. 

Behold  the  Lodge  rise  into  view, 
The  work  of  industry  and  art  ; 

Tis  grand,  and  regular,  and  tnie» 
For  so  is  each  good  Mason*ft  heart ; 

Friendship  cements  it  from  the  groond^ 

And  secrecy  shall  fence  it  rouodT 

A  stately  dome  overlooks  our  East, 
Like  orient  Fhcebus  in  the  mom ; 

And  two  tall  pillars  in  the  West, 
At  once  suppoK  us  and  adorn  ; 

Upholden  thus  the  structure  stands, 

Untouch 'd  hy  sacrilegious  hands. 

Then  may  our  vows  to  virtue  move, 
To  virtue  own*d  in  all  her  parts ; 

Come  candour,  innocence,  and  love. 
Come  and  possess  our  faithfu]  hearts  r 

Merc^,  who  reeds  the  hungry  poor. 

And  silence,  guardian  of  the  door. 


MISCSLLAIIOUS. 


259 


faUBOital  Science  too,  be  near; 

We  owq  thy  empire  o'er  the  mind ; 
Dress'd  in  thy  radiant  robes  appear. 

With  all  thy  beauteous  train  behind ; 
lovention  young  and  blooming  there, 
Aad  Geometry,  with  rale  and  square. 

Though  lost  to  half  of  human  race* 
With  us  the  virtues  shall  revive : 

And  driven  no  more  from  place  to  place, 
Here  science  shall  be  kept  alive  ; 

And  manly  taste  the  child  of  sense. 

Shall  banish  vice  and  dullness  hence. 

Ihiited  thus,  and  for  these  ends. 
Let  acorn  deride  and  envy  rail ; 

From  age  to  age  the  craft  descends, 
And  what  we  build  shall  never  fail ; 

Nor  shall  the  world  our  works  survey. 

Bid  every  brother  keeps  the  key. 


AFR££-MASON'S  EPITAPH  NEAR 
BAGDAD. 

jB^  (kt,0^f  of  Lttendt  of  Lampidoaa^  f«, 
T^ead  softly  here  or  pause  to  breathe 
A  prayer  o*er  him  who  sleeps  beneath, 
Though  savage  hands  in  silence  spread 
The  nameless  sand  that  hides  the  dead ; 
Tet  here,  as  wand'ring  Arabs  tell, 
Antardian- spirit  loves  to  dwell ! 
'lu  said;  such  gentle  spirits  seek 
The  tears  on  widow'd  beauty's  cheeky 
And  bring  those  precious  drops  to  lave 
The  sainted  pilgrim's  secret  grave. 

Tread  softly !— though  the  tempest  blows 
Unheeded  o'er  his  deep  repose, 
Though  now  the  sun's  relentless  ray 
Has  parch'd  to  dust  this  hol^  clay, 
The  spirit  in  this  clay  enshnn'd 
Once  mounted  swifter  than  the  wind- 
Once  look'd,  O  Sun  !  beyond  thy  sphere, 
Then  dared  to  measure  ttiy  career. 
And  rose  above  this  earth  as  far 
As  comets  pass  the  meanest  star. 

Tread  softly  !— 'midst  thi^  barren  sand ! 
Lie  relicks  of  a  bounteous  hand  ! 
Tbat  hand,  if  living,  would  have  press'd 
The  wand'ring  stranger  to  his  breast. 
And  fill'd  the  cup  of  gladness  her^ 
Thy  dark  and  dreary  path  to  cheer — 
O  spare  this  dust ! — it  once  was  part 
Of  an  all-kind  all -bounteous  heart ! 
If  yet  with  vital  warmth  it  glow'd. 
On  thee  its  bounty  would  have  flow'd. 

Tread  softly !— on  this  sacred  mound 
The  badge  of  brotherhood  is  found  \ 
Revere  the  signet ! — in  bis  breast 
In  holiest  virtue  was  confess'd— 
He  ooly  liv'd  on  earth  to  prove 
Xha  faUneflB  of  a  Brother's  love. 


rf  in  ihy  bosom  dwells  the  sign 

Of  charity  and  love  diviney 

Give  to  this  grave  the  duteous  tear, 

Thy  friend,  tny  Brother*  slumbers  here. 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


For  the  Masoitic  Register. 
THE  ROCK-HOUSE  BANDITTI. 

In  one  of  the  deepest  recesses  of 
those  towering  mountains  which  bor-. 
der  on  the  western  shores  of  the  Ta[>- 
pan  sea,  there  is  a  cavern  now  scarcely 
known^  but  formerly  well  remembered 
as  the  scene  of  many  important  and 
terrific  adventures. 

It  was  an  excavation  in  an  elevated 
rock,  uid  its  interior  appearance,  (al- 
though of  much  greater  lateral  extent) 
bore  no  iqconsiderable  resemblance  to 
the  common  horse-shed  of  a  country 
inn.*    Its  location  was  exceedingly  . 

*  A  partieular  topographical  description 
of  this  cavern,  may  with  more  propriety 
occupy  a  marginal  station.  It  is  situated 
in  Rockland,  near  the  boundary  line  of 
Orange  county,  aud  about  four  miles  ir  b. 
c»f  the  Romapough  Factory.  The  front, 
or  exposed  side,  races  to  the  w.  s.  w.,  ana 
is  66  feet  in  extent  The  breadth,  or  ra^ 
ther  width  of  the  ground  under  s|>elter,  is 
17  feet;  and  the  average  height  of  the 
rock,  8  feet  at  the  eves,  and  about  6  feet 
in  the  interior.  The  rock  itself  is  of  tha^ 
species  of  granite,  called  gneia;  aod  it/ 
bititude  at  the  summit,  about  40  feet.  No- 
thing however  in  its  whole  appearance,  it 
more  calculated  to  excite  the  feelings  of 
the  spectator,  and  bring  to  recollection  the 
dark  and  mischievous  designs  contrived 
under  its  roof,  than  the  remains  of  a  rode 
stone  wall,  which  partially  excludes  tha 
northern  winds,  and  is  now  th*  only  rail* 
of  its  former  occupants.    OOglC 


2G0 


BtfSGBLLAMBOOil. 


well  calculated  for  the  purposes  to 
which  it  was  adapted  by  those  whose 
history  we  are  to  relate — being  en- 
vironed by  many  rocky  eminences, 
whose  bases  were  but  the  summit  of  a 
lofty  and  almost  inaccessible  moun- 
tain. 

In  this  gloomy  retreat,  assembled 
in  the  early  part  of  our  revolutionary 
war,  an  association  of  desperate  indivi- 
duals, avowedly  united  for  the  support 
of  the  royal  cause,  but  whose  subse- 
quent* deeds,  manifested  them  rather, 
"  By  bold  ambition  led,  and  bolder  thirst 
"Ofgold^ ' 

In  the  common  language  of  the  day, 
'  they  were  designate  Thowever  in- 
gloriously)  "  the  horse  ttiieves'^;  but 
as  their  actions  excited  much  more 
terror  than  contempt,  we  shall  be  ex- 
cused in  awarding  them  the  more  dig- 
ni6ed  title  of  the  "  Rock-House  Ban- 
ditti.*' Their  chosen  leader  was  a 
native  of  the  contiguous  country,  and 
in  every  respect  was  well  qualified  for 
the  station  to  which  he  had  been  call- 
ed. His  name  was  Claudius  ^  and 
his  whole  life  wanted  nothing  but  po- 
litical importance,  to  have  rendered 
it  a  fit  parallel  for  the  Roman  despot 
whose  cognominnl  attribute  had  been 
commemorated.  Next  in  power  was 
Rovelines;  he  too  was  a  native  of  the 
bordering  country,  and  in  no  wise  un- 
worthy  of  the  confidence  reposed  in 
him.  Of  the  other  individuals  of  thb 
band  of  marauders,  little  is  known, 
and  even  their  names  are  now  no  lon- 
ger remembered. 

I'o  detail  the  numerous  robberies 
of  this  mountain  horde,  would  require 
a  volume ;  and  we  shall  therefore  only 
give  a  description  of  their  general 
mode  of  operations,  with  a  brief  notice 
of  a  few  of  their  most  prominent 
actions.  A  dark  night  was  usually 
selected,  when  Claudius  and  Rove- 
lines,  at  tlie  head  of  their  clan,  de- 
scended the  rugged  declivities  which 
surrounded  their  rocky  abode,  and 
winding  thehr  way  along  the  gloomy 
valley  which  leads  through  the  moun- 
tains^ they  sallied  forth  into  the  inha* 


bited  districts,  abbut  that  dismal  boof . 
when  night  is  "just  at  odds  with  day.'' 
Their  victims,  surprized  and  unpre- 
pared^ could  ofier  no  resistance;  and 
the  ready  relinquishment  of  their  most 
valuable  articles,  generally  secured 
them  from  further  annoyance.  The 
barns  and  stables  were  never  forgot* 
ten ;  and  no  steed  that  could  hinoaelf 
'^  carry  his  slow  length  along,'^  failed 
accompanying  them,  with  the  "  move- 
ables'*  of  his  master.  Thehr  very 
careful  attention  to  this  depaitment 
of  their  vocation,  gained  them  the  cBs- 
tinguishing  epithet  which  was  in  thai 
day  prefixed  to  their  professional  ap- 
pellation. Sometimes,  the  banditti 
would  amuse  thcroaelvcs  with  throw- 
ing  the  looking-glasses  and  china  out 
ofthe  windows,  or  with  scattering  the 
contents  of  the  feather  beds  in  the  air  ^' 
but  to  the  persons  of  the  pliteiierad, 
they  rarely  oflered  molestation.  Grow- 
ing bolder  however,  by  repeated  sim> 
cess,  they  commenced  a  more  vigo- 
rous system  of  measures ;  and  on  one 
occasion  they  hung  an  honest  old 
Scotchman  to  the  door  post,  because 
he  was  a  little  tardy  in  disclosing  the 
place  of  his  secreted  treasures;  but 
as  he  soon  made  satisfactory  signs  of 
having  recovered  his  communicative- 
ness, he  was  taken  down,  after  suffer^ 
ing  little  other  inconvenience  than  a 
short  strangulation,  and  a  veiy  cob* 
siderable  fright.  A  proceeding^  some* 
what  similar,  soon  after  succeeded; 
but  without  the  slight  justification 
which  attended  the  other,  and  with  a 
result  far  more  tragical.  Having  ra- 
vaged a  house  in  one  of  their  excur- 
sions, they  with  wanton  cruelty  led  its 
tenant  to  the  orehard,  where  "  on  the 
first  tree,  he  was  hung  alive,"  while 
the  banditti,  mounting  their  stolen  ani- 
mals, retunied  to  the  cavern  in  the 
mountains.  The  inhabitant  of  the 
country,  who  had  hitherto  borne  these 
outrages  with  stoical  resignation,  now 
became  aroused,  and  called  ioucUy  on 
the  authorities  for  protection ;  while 
old  Governor  Clinton  issued  procla- 
mation for  the  app^j^^ipiuof  Clau- 

JigitizecTby 


mt^IXAHBOUf. 


36l 


(&»  add  bis  associates,  ^deed  or 
afive  f "  But  the  wary  banditti  of  tbe 
Rock-hcmse,  evaded  all  pursuit :  when 
it  becane  too  close,  they  retired  with- 
io  the  enemy's  liues,  at  New- York, 
(the  usual  market  for  their  spoils) ; 
and  were  less  freqoent  in  their  visits 
to  their  favourite  cavern,  and  consc- 
tfoetxi  excursions  to  the  viUages  '^  be- 
yond the  high  hills  of  the  Highlands ;" 
as  an  okli  knd  patent  hati^  designated 
these  regions. 

Tbe  marauding  career  of  the  band 
was  now  near  its  close.  Having  sw- 
foooded  a  house  one  nighty  th<^  sur- 
Bffized  a  seigeant  and  bis  guard  who 
md  been  in  ques\>f  a  deserter.  He 
was  paroled  however,  on  condition  of 
Ins  raising  no  alarm,  until  they  had 
secured  their  retreat.  The  scrupulous 
^ men  of  blood^'  kept  his  word;  but 
^  a  qaaker  sly''  upon  whom  they  im- 
nosed  a  similar  restriction,  preserved 
"^•o  faith  with  heretics,"  and  without 

I  delay  gave  information  to  the  garri- 
SQD,  at  the  block*house  near  the  con- 
feies  of  the  mountains.  A  pursuit 
was  immediately  commenced,  and  the 
band  over  taken ;  they  fought  with  des- 
perate vakNHr,  but  were  routed  in  ail 
directions. 

I  Claudiua  with  a  few  others  escaped 

by  planging  down  a  precipice,  and  fol- 
lowing a  bye  path  which  led  to  the 
Hudson  river.  Rovelines,  while  dis- 
playing a  resdittion  and  conduct  wor- 
thy of  the  leader  of  armies,  was  shot 
through  the  head  by  a  sharp-sighted 
aiilitia  man  of  Shawangunk.  The  re- 
mainder of  the  band  experienced  a 
naaika'  late ;  each  man,  iixer  the  ex- 
ample of  the  Roman  conspirators, 
covering   vrith   his    body   the  same 


t  This  antjqaated  but  poetical  qnotatiaiiy 
was  tbe  subiect  of  a  long  investigation,  in 
a  celebrated  law-suit,  wnich  occurred  in 
that  country,  about  thirty  vears  ago.  The 
phwao  had  been  used  in  defining  a  bound* 
aiy  of  an  extensive  tract  of  hnAy  and  as 
tbe  decision  involved  a  laree  anount  of 
property,  tbe  counsel  on  ehner  side,  used 
every  exertion  in  support  of  an  interpre- 
UAioB  thst  sidled  ditir  respective  hiterests. 


ground,  which  be  occupied  when 
alive:"  ^' Quern  quUque  vivuM  pUg' 
nando  locum  ceperot^  cum^  am$9a 
anima,  corpore  tegehaiP 

Their  remains  lay  fbr  many  years 
exposed,  on  the  side  of  the  mountain 
where  they  fell ;  but  at  a  later  period 
their  bones  were  collected,  and  receiv- 
ed those  sepulchral  rites,  which  the 
exasperated  feelings  of  the  community 
had  so  long  denied  them. 

Claudius,  with  the  remnant  of  his 
band,  reached  New-York  in  safety. 
Sometime  afterwards  he  passed  over 
to  Long-Island:  but  his  movements 
were  closely  watched;  and  ^  party  of 
enterprising  islanders,  whose  patriot- 
ism had  exiled  them  to  the  shores  of 
New  England,  resolved  to  secure  his 
p^i-son.  They  accordingly  crossed  the 
Sound,  in  a  whale-boat,  during  the 
night,  and  after  marching  several 
miles,  reached  the  habitation  where 
he  lodged.  They  were  admitted  with- 
out hesitation,  and  a  fire-brand  from 
tbe  hearth,  lighted  them  to  the  cham- 
ber of  Claudius ;  tbe  door  was  forced, 
and  before  he  could  seize  the  pistols, 
upon  which  he  always  slept,  a  dozen 
tmyonets  were  at  his  breast.  Resist- 
ance would  have  been  in  vain;  and 
he  was  bound  hand  and  foot,  trans- 
ported to  the  boat,  and  thence  across 
the  Sound,  to  Connecticut  Eventu- 
ally, he  was  carried  on  a  horse,  with 
his  feet  chained  under  the  body  oCthe 
animal,  to  the  country  which  had  been 
the  scene  of  hb  depredations.  Of  his 
innumerable  crimes,  the  proof  was  su- 
perabundant, and  Claudius  was  doom- 
ed to  undergo  the  extreme  sentence  of 
the  law.  ( 

At  the  gallows  he  evinced  the  same 
utter  disregard  of  all  moral  restrictions 
that  had  been  manifested  in  every 
action  of  his. life;  and  his  last  exploit, 
(like  that  of  Jonathan  Wild)  was  the 
kicking  off  his  shoes,  -in  order  to  fal- 
sify a  jocular  prediction  of  hb  mother. 
The  last  dire  signal  was  given,  and 
the  celebrated  chieftain  of  the  moun- 
tain horde,  was  numbered  with  the 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


262 


MIICBLLANBOU8. 


CLAUDINt. 


AH  nrTXKXSTIIfO  SWISS  TALB. 


(Continued  from  page  228.) 
,  «<  The  curate  allowed  him  to  weep 
for  some  time  without  saying  a  word ; 
at  leugfh  he  wished  to  consult  with 
him  relative  to  the  measures  it  was 
necessary  to  take,  in  order  to  save  the 
honour  of  Claudine ;  but  Simon  inter- 
rupted him :  "  Master  curate,^  said 
he,  <<it  is  impossible  to  save  that 
which  is  lost;  every  means  we  could 
take  would  render  us  more  culpable, 
by  obliging  us  to  tell  lies.  The  un- 
happy wretch  must  no  longer  remain 
here ;  she  would  be  the  scandal  of  us 
all,  and  the  punishment  of  her  father  1 
let  her  be  gone,  master  curate;  let  her 
live,  since  infamy  can  live;  but  let 
roe  die  far  distant  from  her.  Let  her 
depturt  this  very  day;  she  must  leave 
this  country,  and  never  let  her  again 
present  herself  before  my  gray  hairs, 
which  she  has  dishonoured." 

"  The  curate  tried  to  soften  Simon, 
but  his  efforts  were  in  vain.  Simon 
repeatt^'J  the  positive  order  for  the  de- 
parture of  Claudine.  Our  good  old 
curate  was  going  away  in  sadness, 
when  the  old  man  ran  after  liim, 
brought  him  back  into  his  apartment, 
and  shut  the  door ;  then  putting  into 
his  hand  an  old  purse  of  leather,  cou- 
taininof  fifty  crowns.  *  Master  curate,' 
said  he,  ^  this  wretch  will  be  in  want 
of  every  thing.  Give  her  these  ^hy 
crowns,  not  as  from  me,  but  as  a  cha- 
rity from  youi-self :  tell  her  it  is  the 
goods  of  the  poor,  which  compassion 
induces  you  to  bestow  on  her ;  and  if 
you  could  write  to  any  one  in  her  fa- 
vour, or  give  her  a  letter  of  recom- 
mendation  1  know  your  goodness; 

and  I  neither  wish  to  hear^  or  to  speak 
any  more  about  her.' 

« I'he  currate  answered  him  by  a 
squeeze  of  the  hand,  then  ran  to  meet 
Nanette,  who  was  waiting  for  him  in 
the  street,  more  dead  than  alive.  <  Oo 
instantly,'  said  he,  <  and  pack  up  all 
your  sister's  clothes,  and  brins  them 
to  my  house.'    She  obeyed  wi£  tears 


in  her  eyes,  being  but  too  sore  of 
what  had  happemni,  and  put  into 
Claudine's  bundle  the  little  money  she 
was  mistress  of.  She  then  returned 
to  the  curate,  who  i^elated  to  her  the 
conversation  he  had  with  Simon,  and 
gave  her  a  long  letter  for  the  curate  of 
SalencheS)  and  said  to  her,  ^My  dear 
child,  you  must  thu  very  day  conduct 
your  sister  to  Salenches ;  give  her  this 
purse,  and  this  letter  to  my  good  bro- 
ther. Accompany  her  to  the  village^ 
and  then  return  to  your  father,  who  has 
occasion  for  your  wisdom  and  virtue, 
to  lessen  the  chagrin  produced  by  the 
conduct  of  your  sister.'  Nanette,  sigh* 
ing,  went  in  quest  of  her  sbter  oi^ 
Montanverd.  She  found  Claudine 
stretched  weeping  on  the  ground ;  but 
when  she  heard  that  her  departure 
must  be jmmediate,  she  screamed,  and 
tore  her  hair,  repeating  contmuaHy, 
<I  am  banished  with  my  lather's 
curse!  Kill  me!  my  sister,  kill  me? 
or  I  will  throw  myself  over  this  pre* 
cioice.'  Gradually  she  became  more 
calm,  by  promising  that  things  might 
still  be  made  up.  At  length  Claudine 
resolved  to  set  out ;  and  at  night-fall 
they  took  the  road  to  Salenches,  avoids 
ing  our  village,  where,  notwithstand* 
ing  the  darkness^  poor.Claudine  would 
have  thought  that  every  one  saw  her 
crime  painted  in  her  face. 

*^  It  was  a  melancholy  journey,  as 
you  may  easily  imagine ;  nor  did  Uiey 
arrive  till  break  of  day.  Nanette  took 
her  leave  of  Claudine  before  they  en- 
tered the  village,  and,  after  pressing 
her  a  long  while  to  her  bosom,  left 
her,  being  nearly  as  miserable  as  her 
unhappy  sister. 

<^  As  soon  as  Claudine  found  her- 
self alone,  all  her  courage  deserted 
her:  she  hid  herself  in  the  mountain^ 
and  passed  the  whole  day  without 
taking  any  nourishment;  but  when 
the  night  drew  on,  her  fears  forced 
her  towards  the  village,  where  she  in- 
quired for  the  house  of  the  curate,  and 
knocked  softly  at  tlie  door,  which  was 
opened  by  an  old  housekeeper. 

^  Claudine  said  she  came  from  K« 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


llnCBUiANBOUS. 


263 


ibe  curate  of  Prietire.  The  hoase- 
keeper  led  her  directly  to  her  master, 
who  was  theD  alone,  eating  his  sup- 
per by  the  comer  of  his  fire.  With- 
out uttering  a  word,  or  lifting  her  eyes, 
Claudine,  with  a  trembline  hand,  de- 
livered the  letter ;  and,  while  the  cu- 
rate drew  near  the  light,  in  order  to 
rend  it,  the  poor  gui«covered  her  face 
with  her  hands,  and  dropped  on  her 
knees  near  the  door.  The  curate  of 
Saienches  is  a  good  and  a  worthy  man, 
and  is  respected  as  a  parent  by  his 
whole  parish.  When  he  had  finished 
the  letter,  and  turning  his  head  saw 
ikis  younc  girl  on  her  knees,  and 
iMhed  with  tears,  he  also  wept.  He 
raised  her,  probed  the  sincerity  of  her 
lepentance,  gave  her  hopes  of  a  par- 
don for  a  fignlt  that  had  cost  her  so 
many  tears,  and  obliged  her  to  eat  in 
spite  of  her  refusal ;  then  calling  his 
governess,  desired  her  to  prepare  a 
bed  for  Claudine. 

^Cfandine,  surprised  to  find  any 
one  who  did  not  despise  her,  kissed 
hb  bands  ^ihout  saying  a  word.  He 
spoke  to  her  in  the  most  friendly  man- 
ner, and  inquired  after  his  good  bro- 
dttr  ^  curate.  He  dwelt  with  plea- 
sare  OD  the  good  deeds  of  that  worthy 
nan,  and  observed,  that  one  of  the 
mML  pleasing  duties  of  their  ministry 
was  to  conscMe  the  unhappy,  and  heal 
the  broken  hearted.  Claudine  listen- 
ed whb  respectful  gratitude.  He  ap- 
peared to  her  as  an  angel  sent  from 
beaven  lo  comfort  her.  After  supper 
die  retked  to  bed  in  a  calmer  state  of 
nmd;  and  if  she  did  not  sleep,  she 
at  least  rested. 

^  Go  the  morrow  the  good  curate 
ieardied  through  Saienches  for  a  little 
chamber  where  Claudine  might  lie  in. 
An  old  vroman,  called  Madame  Felix, 
ofiered  an  apartment,  and  promised 
•ecrecy.  Claudine  repaired  thither 
m  the  evening;  the  curate  paid  three 
WMrths'  rent  in  advance;  the  old  lady 
fused  her  for  a  niece  lately  married 
It  Chambery;  and  every  thing  was 
Miled.  Indeed  it  was  high  time,  for 
journey,  and  tbe  agita- 


tion of  mind  that  Claudine  had  sus- 
tained, brought  on  the  premature  birth 
of  a  fine  boy,  beautiful  as  the  day^ 
whom  Madame  Felix  caused  to  be 
baptised  by  the  name  of  Benjamin. 

"  The  curate  was  desirous  of  imme- 
diately putting  the  child  out  to  nurse ; 
but  Claudine  declared  with  tears  in 
her  eyes,  that  she  would  rather  die 
than  be  separated  from  Benjamin, 
She  was  allowed  to  keep  him  for  the 
first  few  days ;  at  the  end  of  which 
time  her  maternal  fondness  had  in- 
creased. The  curate  reasoned  with 
her;  represented  to  her,  that  such 
conduct  deprived  her  of  all  hopes  of 
ever  returning  to  Chamouny,  or  of  be- 
ing reconciled  to  her  father.  Clau- 
dine's  only  answer  was  to  embrace 
Benjamin.  The  time  slipped  on; 
Claudine  nnrsec)  her  child,  and  re- 
mained with  Madame  Felix,  who 
loved  her  with  all  her  heart. 

"  The  fifty  crowns  from  her  father, 
and  the  little  money  Nanette  had  put 
into  her  bundle,  bad  hitherto  paid  her 
expenses.  Nanette  did  not  dare  to 
come  to  see  her;  but  she  sent  her  all 
she  could  spare,  and  thus  Claudine 
wanted  for  nothing.  She  employed 
her  time  in  learning  to  read  and  write 
of  the  old  lady,  who  had  formerly  kept 
a  school  at  Bonville,  and  in  tekii^ 
care  of  Benjamin,  Claudine  was  not 
unhappy,  and  little  Benjamin  grew 
charmingly;  but  such  happiness  could 
not  last  One  morning  the  curate  of 
Saienches  came  to  pay  her  a  visit. 

"  My  dear  girl,"  said  he,  "  when  I 
received  you  under  my  protection, 
when  I  covered  your  fault  with  the 
mantle  of  charity,  my  design  was  to 
take  care  of  your  child,  to  enable  him 
to  gain  his  bread ;  and  I  hoped,  dur- 
ing that  interval,  to  have  appeased 
the  anger  of  your  father ;  to  have  pre- 
vailed on  him  to  receive- you  once 
more  into  his  house,  where  your  re- 
pentance, your  modesty,  your  love  of 
virtue,  and  of  labour,  might  gradually 
have  induced  him  to  forget  the  distres- 
ses of  which  you  have  been  the  source. 
But  this  plan  you  have  yoitfself  op- 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIc 


204 


snSCBLLAlttOUS. 


posed.  With  what  eyes  could  Simon 
look  upon  this  child  ?  he  must  neces- 
sarily remain  a  lasting  monument  of 
your  misconduct  and  disgrace.  I  can 
discern  by  your  eyes  that  your  choice 
IS  made ;  but  you  ought  to  consider, 
that  you  cannot  always  remain  with 
this  good  woman,  whose  circumstan- 
ces, however  desirous  she  might  be  of 
befriending  you,  render  it  impossible. 
The  money  that  Nanette  sends  you  is 
taken  from  the  support  of  herself  and 
family.  Nanette  labours  the  ^ound 
while  you  caress  Benjamin ;  and  Na- 
nette has  been  guilty  of  no  fault.  You 
have  but  one  resource,  which  is  to  go 
into  service  either  at  Geneva  or  Cham- 
bery;  but  I  "doubt  whether,  without 
separating  from  your  child,  you  would 
easily  find  a  place.  I  allow  you  two 
days,  to  reflect  on  these  matters.  You 
will  then  inform  me  of  your  determin- 
ation :  and,  depend  on  it,  I  will  do 
every  thing  in  my  power  to  assist 
3'ou."  Claudine  was  sensible  of  the 
truth  of  all  the  curate  had  said;  but 
she  found  it  impossible  to  live  without 
Benjamin. 

<^  After  passing  a  day  and  a  night  in 
reflecting  on  what  she  ought  to  do,  she 
at  last  resolved :  and  after  writing  a 
letter  to  the  curate,  acknowledging  all 
his  kindness,  which  she  left  on  her 
table,  she  made  a  bundle  of  her  dothes, 
tied  up  twenty  crowns,  which  still  re- 
mained, in  a  handkerchief,  and  taking 
Benjamin  in  her  arms,  she  departed 
from  Salenches. 

^  She  took  the  road  to  Geneva,  and 
slept  that  night  at  Bonville ;  for,  on 
account  of  little  Benjamin,  she  could 
not  travel  far.  The  second  day^he 
arrived  at  Geneva.  Her  first  care  was 
to  sell  all  her  female  clothes,  and  pro- 
vide herself  with  a  suit  of  man^  at" 
tire ;  she  even  sold  her  fine  black  hair, 
and  bought  a  knapsack,  into  which 
she  put  her  clothes.  She  fastened  the 
ring  which  she  had  always  hitherto 
worn  on  her  finger,  round  her  neck. 
Thus  clad  like  a  young  Savoyard,  whh 
a  stout  stick  in  her  hand,  her  knap- 
sack on  her  back,  on  the  top  of  which 


Benjamin  was  seated,  clasping  hb 
hands  round  her  neck,  she  set  out  fnm 
Geneva  on  the  road  to  Turin. 

^*  She  was  twelve  days  in  crossing 
the  mountains;  and  people  were  so 
much  pleased  with  the  air  and  appear- 
ance of  this  handsome  little  Savoyard, 
and  of  the  child  whom  she  carried  en 
her  back,  and  oMed  her  little  brother, 
that  she  w^  hardly  allowed  to  pay 
any  thing,  but  commonly  discharged 
her  reckoning  by  amusing  the  compa- 
ny with  some  of  the  little  beaotifbi 
songs  peculiar  to  her  country ;  so  that 
when  Claudine  arrived  at  Turin,  she 
had  still  some  of  her  money  left,  with 
which  she  hired  a  little  garret,  bought 
a  brush  and  blacking,  and,  followed 
by  little  Benjamin,  who  never  left  her, 
she  set  up  a  little  stall  for  blacking 
shoes,  in  the  Palais  Royal,  under  the 
name  of  Claude. 

(To  be  ooncloded  in  oar  next) 


•SINGULAR  PRESERVATION. 

An  interesting  article  upon  the  col- 
ony of  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  in 
which  the  emigrants  are  «iK>ut  to  set* 
tie,  appears  in  a  late  English  pe* 
nodical  work ;  portra3rinf  its  nA* 
vantages  and  disadvantages,  with  the 
situation  the  emigrant  is  likely  to  be 
placed  in,  on  his  first  arrival.  In  no* 
ticin|  the  unerring  skill  of  the  graeieri 
(or  Keboor)  Colianist  with  his  omsket^ 
the  writer  of  the  article  rdates  the 
following  little  narrative,  the  heio  of 
which  was  a  person  ci  the  name  ef 
Van  Wyk,  and  the  story  of  his  ^<  per^ 
ilous  and  fearful  shot,''  is  given  in 
his  own  words. 

^^  It  is  now,"  said  he,  ^^  more  than 
two  years,  in  the  very  place  where 
we  stand,  I  ventured  to  take  one  of 
the  most  daring  shots  that  ever  was 
hazarded.  My  wife  was  sitting  with- 
in the  house,  near  the  door ;  tlM  diil* 
dren  were  playing  about  her:  andrl 
was  without,  near  the  honse,  busied 
in  doing  something  lo  a  waggon; 
when,  suddenly,  though  it  was  mid- 
day, an  Nenoruotts  Uoo  appeared)  c 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


W8CBLLANBQD1U 


116$ 


vp^  Whd  laid  Umalf  lyiiatly  dowft  hi 
the  shade,  upon  the  threshold  of  the 
door.  My.  wife,  either  frosea  with 
fear,  or  aware  of  the  danger  attending 
any  attempt  to  fly,  renmined  motion- 
leaa  in  her  place,  while  the  children 
took  reff^  in  her  lap.  The  cry  they 
uttered  attracted  my  attention,  and  I 
hastened  towards  the  door;  but  my 
astonishtaent  may  well  be  conceived 
when  I  found  the  entrance  to  it  barred 
in  such  a  way.  Although  the  anhnal 
had  not  seen  me,  unarmed  as  I  was 
escape  seenied  impossiWe ;  yet,  I  gli- 
ded gently,  scarcely  knowing  what  I 
Bseant  to  do,  to  the  side  of  the  house, 
np  to  the  window  of  my  chamber, 
where  I  knew  my  loaded  gun  was 
standing.  By  a  most  happy  chance  I 
had  set  it  in  a  comer  close  by  the  win- 
dow,  so  that  I  could  reach  it  with  my 
hand ;  the  opening  being  too  small  to 
adaah  of  my  having  got  in,  and  still 
■mre  Airtunately,  the  door  of  the  room 
was  open,  so  that  I  could  see  the  whole 
danger  of  the  scene.  The  lion  was 
beginnmg  to  move,  perhaps  with  the 
intentioQ  of  making  a  spring.  There 
was  Bo  longer  any  time  to  thiidi;  I 
called  softly  to  the  mother  not  to  be 
alarmed,  and  invoking  the  name  of 
the  Lord,  fired  my  piece.  The  ball 
passed  directly  over  the  hair  of  my 
poy^s  head,  and  lodged  in  the  forehead 
of  the  lion,  immediately  above  his 
eyes,  which  shot  forth,  as  it  were, 

rks  of  fire,  and  stretched  him  on 
ground^  so  that  he  never  stirred 


From  t!ie  Boston  Patriot. 

THE  ORPHAN. 

A  Mltttdk  from  the  MitceOmy  MS. 

of  Mr.  Charkon. 

*  The  tempest  of  a  dark  December 
Bight  had  for  some  time  vented  its 
wyy  when  a  wretched  woman,  drench- 
ed by  the  rain,  dishevelled,  and  in 
tattered  garments,  simk  on  the  ground 
as  she  journeyed  over  the  heath.  She 
had  vvMlifftd  ifom  har  hama^rHAome  / 

K 


alas!  she  had  none!    She  was  api  prv 

phan.  Long  had  a  mother's  voice 
ceased  to  instruct  her  by  its  pr^pepts; 
a  father's  arm  to  protect  andi^^^nj^ 
ter  by  its  labour  to  her  ne^^es^ie^. 
Both  had  been  consigned  to  the  grave ; 
and  Emma  was  left  without  %  friend, 
on  whom  tio  depend  for  <^nsel  or  as- 
sistance. Sha  was  then  beauteous; 
her  form  and  graceful  movements 
were  those. of  Diana;  the  health  of 
Hygeia  bioomed^^u  hiyrcb^k;  and 
the  lily's  spotless  whitaness  lent  ii^ 
complesionto  b«r  neck  and  bosom. 
Her  mind  was  iateUig€1^,  though  not 
ieamed ;  her  h^st  a  GOBApauod  of  vir- 
tue and  credul^y.  Never  h44()i^nuna 
performed  an  act  that  was  wrong, 
imowimg  it  to  ba  so;  mye/r  stispected 
guile  or  treackery  in  another,  judging 
the  world  as  it  were  by  the  standard 
of  her  mpm  booesQr  and  truth.  Thus 
acting  and  beltevii^^;  aaskiiled  in  the 
deceptive  character  of  man ;  forlorn 
and  needy;  she  was  approadied  by  a 
youth,  whose  prepossessing  form  and 
manners  soon  engaged  her  afiections. 
With  the  malice  and  cunning  of  the 
arch  fiend  of  old,  he  wooed,  won, 
and  deserted  her  I  Wretched  Emma ! 
Virtue  was  once  thy  richest  pride 
and  solace^-virtee/  And  is  it  then 
but  a  name  that  the  charitable  look  at  ? 
Art  thou,  Emma,  stiU  virtuous  ?  Shall 
the  lell  machinations  of  a  villain  cast 
that  approbrium  upon  thy  purer  na- 
ture, which  only  his  iufam v  deserves  ? 
Yet  it  may  be  said  that  thou  too  art 
infamous !  No,  not  so ;  thou  art  wretch- 
ed but  not  infamous.  It  was  not  a 
rsy||Lto  believe  as  thou  hast  believed ; 
itWp  a  ausfortune.  Ihat  innocence 
which  sh6uld  have  been  thy  protec- 
tion, is  nevj^rtheless  thy  apology.  You 
saw  the  tears  trickle  down  from  eyat| 
while  those  eyes  beamed  rapture  upon 
you ;  you  heard  a  voice  silvery  and 
sweet,  which  formed  itself  to  your  situ^ 
ation,  declared  its  passions,  and  pledg- 
ed ite  unalterable  truth.  Cooid  you 
doubt  it?  No:  that  heart  which  n^ 
ver  deceived,  that  heart  which  had  so 
oOan  throbbed  with  sympa^edc 

.  Digitized  by  VjCJOyiC 


2j^  MISCELLAN80US. 

tions  at  the  bare  recital  of  **  past  talei 
of  sorrow/'  could  not  suspect  decep- 
tion in  another,  when  its  feel  is  laid 
In  snj^dication,  promises,  and  vows. 
MThotK^,  Emma,  brands  you  infa- 
mous ?  "  What  voice  of  sorrow  brealcs 
upon  my  ear,  giving  to  the  night's 
loud  gust  a  wilder  and  more  appalling 
accerit?''  inqnired  a  horseman,  as  he 
cautiously  approached  the  spot  where 
die  wretched  orphan  lay.    "  A  being 
disgraced;  persecuted  by  the  world, 
and  forsaken  by  heaven,  (she  replied.) 
Three  days  have  passed  since  these 
fambhed  lips*  have  tasted  the  coarsest 
food;  and  many  a  long  liigbt  #ince 
the  ro«f  of  hospitalily  sheltered  her 
from  the 'pitilesk  storm.^  I  am  a  wo- 
man ;  I  am  att  orphan  \^  ^  Why  have 
you  been  persecuted  by  the  world? 
Why  should  you  he  forsaken  by  hea- 
ven?''   "I  thought  not  of  the  opini- 
ons of  the  one ;  and  I  have  violated 
an  ordinance  of  the  other.     I  loved 
too  well  and  was  undone !"    **  Take 
thy  miserable  fate!"  interrupted  the 
horseman,  and  galloped  forward.   He 
was  a  moralUt.   Through  the  gloomy 
severity  of  the  blast,  a  firm  and  steady 
step  was  heard  to  approach.     There 
was  something  in  its  sound  presaging 
succour;  something  which  conveyed 
hope  to  the  heart.    A  glow  of  com- 
fort flashed  upon  her  froKcn  cheeks. 
A  ddicious  sensation,  (like  to  that 
which  is  experienced  when  we  feel 
the  congenial  sigh  breathe  upon  os, 
when  It  leaves  the  warm  bcvom  of 
friendship)  animated  her  with  new 
life.    She  rose  widi  strength  and  feel- 
ings she  knew  not  how  to  aocouM|pr ; 
she  hurried  to  meet  him  ^mt^p- 
proached  her,  and  in  the  ne^ifmstant 
fell  senseless  into  his  arm^^    ^  Child 
of  affliction!"  inouired  the  stranger, 
as  he  wrapped  net  shivering  form 
more    tenderlv  it)  his   mande,   and 
watched  th^  returning  life  in  her  pallid 
face,  by  the  indirect  beamings  of  the 
mopifwhi^H' had  arisen:  <<  Child  of 
9mci\fH^*  why  hast  thou,  on  this  lone 
'    night,  Wanderef^  from  thy  friends  and 
hoaae  ?"    « Itave  none/'  rallied  the 


dlscotisolate   Emma,  with  convulsed 
emotion,  while  she  cast  upon  htm  a 
look  which  might  have  melted  a  stone, 
and  endeavoured  to   relieve    herself 
from  his  embrace.    It  was  the  first 
time  srace   her  nnhappy  seduction, 
that  she  had  been  cherislied  by  man. 
"  I  am  very  young  (she  continued) 
but  have  experienced  an  age  of  mis- 
ery.    Seduced  by  a  heart  1  beliewd 
to  l>e  the  oracle  of  truth  and  constan- 
cy ;  an  orphan ;  shunned  by  my  for- 
mer friends;  scoffed  at  bv my  undoer ; 
trapitied,  unprotected,  I  have  wander- 
ed alone;  the  canopy  of  heaven,  at 
night,  my  only  covering;  the  scanty 
fruit  of  the  forest,  my  only  sustenance. 
I  could  not  love  sin  sufficient  to  pur- 
sue it  for  my  bread ;  and  who  would 
administer  to  the  woman  dishonoured  ? 
Stranger,  the  measure  of  my  suCTernig 
is  filled.    In*a  few  moments  all  that 
wHl  remain  of  the  orphan  for  the  ex- 
ercise of  tby  humanity  will  be  the  in- 
terment of  her  corpse,  and  the  inscrip- 
tion of  her  oflence,  that  others  mny 
profit  by  her  misforttmes,  and  sfatru 
that  rock  on  which  she  strack   and 
perished."    "Orphan,  thou  wilt  not 
die!"  replied  the  strauger,  pressii^ 
her  cold  form  firmly  in  his  arms.     ^  I 
am  childless,   and    will    make  thee 
mine.     The  worid  shall  yet  respect 
and  bless  the  orphan,  whose  offence  is 
treated  with  too  much  severityi  and 
whose  wants  it  refuses  to  supply/' 
"  Whose  voice  b  this,"  exclain^  the 
sinking  Emma,  "  that  sends  such  ti- 
dings through  my  bewildered  bram  r 
who  calls  me  from  the  grave?" 

"One  (replied  the  stranger)  ^v^ho 
feeb  it  his  duty  to  succour  Sie  afflict- 
ed; one  that  never  sported  with  the 
unhappy,  nor  promiaed  but  to  per- 
form." "Angel!  minister  of  heav^en  z^^ 
exclaimed  the  orphan  and  sunk,  hex 
icy  forehead  upon  hb  bos6m.  He 
was  a  Mason  I  and  the  Masoa  Itas 
kept  bis  word.  Emma  b  seen,  bloom 
ing  and  beaudful  as  ever,  moving  |j 
plenty.  Her  error  has  been  long  ' 
forgotten  by  all  but  herself,  iif 
sideratioQ  of  her, 

)igitized  by 


r(«^l^1K«t»e«„ 


and  the  exercise  of  her  charities.  She 
is  the  almoner  of  the  village.  Her 
kindness  heals  the  afflicted;  her  pre- 
cepts tame  the  obdurate.  Once  a  year, 
when  the  night  winds  blow  bleak,  does 
Emma  hie  her  to  the  spot  where  her 
preserver  found  her.  He  accompa- 
nies her.  It  is  the  indulgence  of  a 
whim  in  her  which  he  sanctions,  more 
b^aose  he  believes  it  to  be  the  exer- 
cise of  a  penance  for  her  crime,  than 
from  a  fear  that  without  any  perpetu- 
ation of  it,  she  might  again  fall  its  vic- 
tim. One  act  originating  in  extreme 
sensibility  and  uncounscUed  by  ejcpe- 
rience,  weaned  from  her  the  sympa- 
thies of  the  world.  One  generous  bo- 
som snatched  her  from  destruction, 
and  gave  to  society  again  its  brightest 
ornament.  Adieu  sweet  Emma!  thy 
sufferings  and  thy  persecutions  are 
tteasnred  up  in  every  honest  heart; 
and  the  hour  is  blest,  in  which  the 
Mason  fouDd  thee  an  orphan  on  the 
heath. 


From  the  Boston  Pdladimn. 

IMnSfANA  MOVNTAIN  OF  SALT. 

.la  the  interesting  letter,  written  by 
generai  Miller,  governor  of  Arkansas, 
dared  Sei^tember  2d,  1 820,  lately  pub- 
fi^ed,  among  other  important  facts  is 
mentiooed  an  extent  of  country  cover- 
ed with  pure  chrystalized  salt,  six 
nsdies  deep.  He  adds,  ail  men  agree, 
bctb  white  and  Indian,  that  this  arti- 
de  it  io  such  abundance,  some  dis- 
ttvee  shore  where  he  was,  that  they 
cooid  cut  and  split  off  pieces  a  foot 

The  public  cannot  have  forgotten 
that  tM  subject  of  the  Louisiana  Salt 
Moootftbis,  was  the  butt  of  ridicule  in 
Mr«  JeflS>rson^s  administration.  The 
credoBly  of  the  philosopher  of  Monti- 
ccBor  was  the  subject  of  wit  and  ridi- 
Goft  m  newspapers,  and  in  our  most 
MBumilite  circles.  It  may  be  re- 
t  too  that  one  of  the  profess- 
ibrkteS;  had  the  courage  to 
\  the  i£a  in  his  lectures,  and 
^llgqpers;  and  some  may 


IflSCKLLANEOUS.  %^ 

• 

recollect  the  odium  he  brought  upon 
himself,  by  telling  his  pupils  and  the 
'  public,  that  vast  bodies  of  the  purest 
salt  were  to  be  found  io  different  parts 
of  Europe  and  Asia,  and  that  he  fully 
believed  what  was  related  of  its  ex- 
istence in  our  newly  purchased  terri* 
tory. 

Now,  ^^fairptav  is  a  jewel,^  says 
the  proverb;  and  it  is  but  right  that 
those  who  were  ridiculed  and  injured 
then,  should  have  justice  done  them 
now.  Abused  as  president  Jefferson 
was,  at  that  time,  he  never  said  a  word 
on  the  subject,  and  the  reason  of  his 
silence  will  appear  in  the  following 
extract  from  one  of  his  letters,  at  late 
as  1813^  a  long  time  after  he  had  re- 
tired from  public  life.  ' 

"  ^he  fact  (says  Mr.  Jefferson)  was 
stated  by  major  Stoddert;  but  I  never 
heard  of,  it  till  certain  writers  drew 
forth  the  morsel  so  delicious  for  the 
exercise  of  their  wit.  I  thought  it  as 
innocent  a  tub  for  the  whale  as  could 
be  given  them,  and  said  nothing. 

"  But  if  truth  is  their  object,  they 
may  now  take  up  the  Majors  book  oo 
Louisiana,  lately  published,  in  which 
(page  403)  he  vindicates  his  former 
assertions,  and  produces  facts,  on 
whom  the  wits  may  display  all  their 
science,  and  aAer  demolishing  major 
Stoddeit's  salt  mountain,  may  solicit 
an  auto  da  fe  to  burn  you,  who  be- 
lieve in  the  heresy.." 

From  the  HavcrfaUl  Gui9tte. 
BEAUIIFUL  ILLUSTRATION. 
Gather  up  the  fragments  that  remain^ 
^     that  nothing  he  lost. 
The  exemplification  of  this  moral 
is  perpet>ially  occun'ing  on  the  most 
common   directs  of  daily   attention. 
The  very  paW^  on  which  I  am  now 
writing  affords  T^e  an  example.     A 
little  while  ago  it  9fe  clipped  off  from 
an  old  garment,  an  unless  rag.    Bet- 
ty would  have  swept  it  to  the  door, 
but  the  industrious  rag-man  took  it  up 
and  gave  it  to  thet  paper-maker,  who 
ictumed  tome  the  former  old  lygin 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


26S 


MI6CCI.LA1IS0U1. 


a  new  form,  lio  less  pleasing  than  use- 
ful. My  gentle  friends,  in  obedience 
to  the  great  Master,  gather  up  the 
fragments  which  remain.  The  little 
piece  of  cloth  which  falls  from,  your 
scissors,  may  be  tlie  means  of  carrying 
the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  the  glo- 
ry of  God  to  far  distant  and  benighted 
lands. 

God  himself  loses  nothing;  and  to  a 
contemplative  mind  it  is  both  instruc- 
tive and  entertaining  to  observe  the 
many  ways  which  he  takes  to  gather 
np  the  fragments.  I  rose  up  from  the 
feast,  and  went  out  to  drink  the  fresh 
evening  air.  As  I  passed  the  gate, 
old  Lazarus,  the  beggar,  was  sitting 
and  making  a  rich  repast  on  the  very 
piece  of  baked  mutton  t  had  left  on 
my  plate.  His  dog  stood  by,  and  the 
bones,  &c.  of  which  Lazarus  could 
make  nothing,  afforded  a  tielicious 
meal  to  poor  Trim.  By  the  time  I 
returned,  a  little  flock  of  sparrows  oc- 
cupied the  ground  where  Lazarus  had 
sat  with  Trim,  and  picked  up  the 
crumbs  which  had  fallen  from  them, 
they  flew  off"  at  my  approach ;  but 
ttieir  place  was  instantly  seized  by  a 
number  of  flies  and  other  insects, 
all  greedily  devouring  the  fragments 
which  remained  of  the  sparrows ;  and 
that  nothing  might  be  lost,  a  little  la- 
borious ant  had  got  a  huge  crumb  on 
her  shoulders,  and  tottering  under  the 
burden,  was  canning  it  to  her  nest. 
A  small  affair  it  seemed,  indeed,  to 
me,  but  small  as  it  was,  it  aflbrded  a 
full  feast  to  liei*self  and  her  little  fami- 
ly, "  Go  to  the  ant,  thoo  sluggard, 
consider  her  ways  and  be  wise."  C^rd 
God  Almighty,  how  manifold  ar^liy 
works.'  in  the  vast  range  of  thy  eco- 
nomy, nothing  is  lost ! 


From  the  FranklHi  Clironicle. 
CONTRASTKD  JOYS. 
A  real  fact.  The  reverend  James 
Harvey  was  once  riding  in  a  stage 
coach,  with  a  gay  young  lady,  who 
expatiau  d,  in  a  'very  lively  manner, 
on  the  pleasures  of  the  tbeatre.  Indeed 


Tshe  said)  I  enjoy  much  happiness  b^ 
fore  I  go,  in  anticipation,  and  when 
there,  my  pleasure  is  indescribable  j 
and  the  recollection  of  the  scene  af* 
fords  me  much  happiness  the  foUow- 
lowing  day. 

Mr.  Harvey  replied,  "  and  is  that 
all  the  happiness,  juadam,  the  theatre 
affords  you  ?  Is  there  not  one  joy  be- 
side ?  Have  you  forgotten  the  happi- 
ness it  will  aflbrd  you  in  the  bour  of 
death?'' 

The  youth,  struck  with  the  scene  of 
eternity,  which  opened  to  her  imagin- 
ation, was  brought  under  genuine  con- 
viction of  sin,  and  the  vanity  of  fugi- 
tive amusement,  to  participate  iu  tne 
solid  pleasures  of  religion. 

From  the  Montreal  Herald. 

Kingston,  Feb.  6. 
On  Saturday  last,  two  men,  resi- 
dents at  Cape  Vincent,  on  the  Ameri- 
can   side,    observed,    while   coming 
round  the  southern  end  of  Wolf  Island, 
a  strange  anioial  on  the  ice,  aboat  two 
miles  from  the  shore.     Tbey  imme- 
diately pursued  it,  and  on  catcfaJi^  it 
found  that  it  was  a  $eaL    Tbey  have 
brought  it  over  to  this  place  to  exhi- 
bit as  a  curiosity,  and  multitudes  are 
flocking  to  view  this  new  inhatHtant 
of  our  fresh  water  sea.     When  first 
informed  of  the  circumstance  we  were 
rather  sceptical,  and  were  inclined  to 
think  that  the  animal  had  in  reality 
been  brought  from  the  ocean,  and  that 
the  story  in  circulation  was  a  mere 
hoax.    We  have,  however,  the  most 
respectable  testimony  on  the  subject,  , 
and  can  no  longer  doubt  the  fact, of 
the  seal  having  been  found,  as  de-i 
scribed,  on  the  ice  in  our  neighboar«^ 
hood.     \Ve  hear,  also,  on  the  aathor-* 
ity  of  Indian  traders,  that  seals  havQ 
heretofore  been  seen  on  the  borders  oj 
our  lake,  though  the  circumstance  i^ 
one  of  very  rare  occurrence.     Conjec<i 
ture  is  busy  in  devising  by  what  meaiu 
the  animal  found  its  way  here,  ami 
some  persons  suppose  it  must  timvi 
come  up  the  St.  lAwrence  vnder  tJk 

Jigitized  by  V^:  **" 


■fSTOmCJlL. 


us 


act,  iririk  otbav  tcmeme  that  it 
bred  on  the  lake.  It  is  perhi^  as 
|in>babiey  that  the  anima),  being  oft 
Here  adTentinoos  qiirit  than  its  k^ 
lofPB,  or  probably  willing  to  make 
the  fa»kio9^pbie  tew  to  tl^  Niagara 
Falls,  strayed  awsr^  from  the  ocean 
^  during  the  summer,  and  that  it  was  at- 
tempting to  leave  the  €^n  part  of  the 
lake  for  better  quarters^  when  it  was 
caught,  ft  seems,  however,  to  have 
found  good  living  in  our  fresh  water, 
and  it  affords  oceular  demonstration 
to  the  inhabitants  of  this  inland  coun- 
try, of  the  propriety  of  the  common 
saying,  <<  It  is  as  fat  as  a  seal." 


ANECDOTE  OF  FRANKUN. 

From  the  letters  of   Dr.  Lettson. 

I  passed  one  day  with  Dr.  Frank- 
Cn  at  Spithead,  with  Sir  J.  Banks  and 
the  late  Dr.  Soiander,  (one  of  the 
most  pleasant  men  I  ever  met  with) 
when  they  went  to  smootli  the  water 
with  oil.  Lord  Loughborough  was  of 
the  party.  I  remember  there  was  but 
little  conversation,  except  from  Solan- 
der,  and  a  laughable  scene  between 
an  officer  on  board  -the  ship  and  Dr. 
Franklin,  on  the  properties  of  thun- 
der and  lightning.  The  officer,  con- 
tinually contradicted  the  Doctor  with 
saying,  ^*  Sir,  you  are  quite  wrong  in 
your  opinion.  Dr.  Franklin  says  so 
aad  so;  the  Doctor  and  you  are  quite 
contrary  in  your  ideas.  I  never  will 
aOow,  Sir,  that  Dr.  F.  is  wrong.  No, 
Sir;  I  am  sure  he  is  right,  aad  you  are 
wrong,  begging  your  pardon.'^  The 
Doctor  never  altered  a  feature  at  the 
conversation.  All  the  company  en- 
joyed a  laugh  except  the  disputants. 


From  the  New-Haven  Kegister. 
REVIVAL  OP  REUOION. 
NorH  KiOingufortky  Feb.  U 

In  North-Killingworth,  Connecticut, 
a  revival  of  religion  began  among  the 
youth  about  the  1st  pf  September, 
and  as  ihere  has  been  an  unusual  so- 


lenntty  opon  At  BBtodi  of  keth  eld 
and  young,  it  can  justly  be  said  thu 
in  this  work,  God  has  been  ^'  no  re- 
specter of  persons ;"  for  the  work  has 
bieen  powerful  on  all  ages  from  eight 
years  old  to  upwards  of  seventy .«- 
One  hundred  and  nine  persons  stood 
propounded    for   admittance   to  the 
Church  on  the  first  Sabbath  in  Jan- 
uary,^ hot  the  two  first  Sabbaths  being 
very  stomy,  they  were  not  admitted 
irotil  (he  third.  On  that  day,  one  hun- 
di*ed  and  seven,  before  a  crowded  a»- 
senibiy,  professed  their  faith  in  the 
Redeemer.      Two   were  .necessarily 
detained.     The  day  being  very  pleas- 
ant, many  of  the  brethren  and  sisters 
from  other  churches  were  present. — 
The  manner  in  which  they  were  ad* 
mitted  was  peculiarly  interesting  and 
solemn.     As  the  subjects  of  this  work 
sat  promiscuously  in   the  assembly,  - 
the  Parson  called  them  by  name,  to 
take  their  proper  places  for  admit- 
tance.    It  was    very  effecting,  and 
gave  an  unusual  force  to  the  scripture, 
<<  One   shaJl  he  taken  and  anatMer 
lefty^^  4t.    The  ordinance  of  baptism 
was  administered  to  six  adults  in  a  very 
impressive    manner,    and   after  the- 
whole  were  admitted  to  full  commun^ 
ion,  aboirt  Foiir  Hundred  Communi-^ 
cants  sat  down  to  the  table  of  the 
Lord.    To  whom  shall  we  ascribe 
this  work?  Shall  it  be  unto  us?  No — 
not  unto  lis,  but  to  thy  great  name,  Q 
God  !  be  all  the  praise — for  Thou  art 
worthy !  The  work  appears  to  con- 
tinue, and  several  youth  in  our  scboda 
are  under  serious  impressions. 


HISTORICAL. 


BERGEN-OF-ZOOM. 
The  following  letter  is  extracted 
from  the  works  of  the  Count  Algarotti, 
(chamberlain  to  Frederick  the  Great 
of  Prussia)  and  relates  to  the  capture 
of  the  place,  in  1747,  by  the  French. 
His  opinions,  as  to  the  strength  of  the 
fortifications,  have  been  fully  corro- 
borated from  the  sanguinary  defeat  of 

Digitized  by  VjOOQlC 


27^6  HuroKCM*. 


the  Cflfltfh  army  uodar  generd  Gta* 
ham,  io  an  aasault  Qpon  the  same 
works,  in  the  year  1814.  The  iiwnc 
of  tills  acfaiereroent  •  was  lost  in  the 
magnitude  of  the  more  important 
events,  which  there  occurred ;  and  the 
fimJ  overthrow  of  Napoleon,  deprived 
the  public  of  even  the  name  of  the 
gallant  commandant,  whose  defence 
shone  so  resplendent  amid  the  /lisas- 
trous  events  of  that  memorable  cam- 
paign. The  military  district,  how- 
ever, which  comprised  this  important 
post,  was  under  Count  Carnot,  one  of 
the  ablest  engineers  in  Europe ;  and 
a  patriot,  who,  with  the  tutelar  maid 
of  France,  was  ever  ready  to  yield, 


-body,  soul)  and  ally 


**  Before  that  Eoglaiid  give  tke  French  the 
foiir 

**  It  was  a  matter  of  astonisliment 
to  all  Europe,  to  hear  that  Count 
Saxe,  the  commander  in  chief  of  the 
French  army  in  Flanders,  had  deter- 
mined on  the  seige  of  6ergen*-op- 
Zoom ;  but  how.  much  more  so,  to 
hear,  in  a  few  weeks  after,  that  Low- 
endahl,  who  was  left  to  conduct  the 
siege,  had  carried  it  by  assault!  Be- 
sides the  marshal's  staff,  which  he 
has  obtained  by  conquest,  he  will 
justly  acquire  the  fitle  of  the  Po/tor- 
cetes  of  the  present  age. 

"This  enterprise  must  indeed  be 
acknowledged  a  glorious  one,  yet  owes 
a  great  part  of  its  glory  to  fortune, 
which  for  some  time  back  has  seemed 
disposed  to  favour  the  French.  Ber- 
gen-op-Zpoom  is  one  of  the  barrier 
towns  of  Holland,  the  master-piece  of 
the  famous  Coehorn.  The  works  are 
very  extensive,  anil  mined  almost  in 
every  part ;  by  subterranean  passages 
there  is  a  communication  with  an  en- 
trenched camp  without  the  town, 
where  an  army  can  subsist  in  perfect 
security.  It  has  besides  an  open  com- 
munication with  the  sea. 

"  It  has  been  asserted,  that  there  is 
no  place  in  the  world  entirely  impreg- 
nable. This  assertion  is  perhaps  ill 
founded.  Konigstein  in  Saxony,  may 
be  an  instance  to  the  contrary  5  a  place 


sitinted  oit  a  very  steep  mooocaidy 
with  a  running  spring  witliin,  and  a 
sufficiency  of  arable  land  to  maintaip 
the  little  garrison  requisite  to  defeiul 
It.  But,  setting  aside  thb  fortrew^ 
which  seems  to  be  intended  by  nature 
for  the  Bastile  of  Saxony,  or  the  repo- 
sitory of  the  treasures  of  Gren-Vek 
in  case  of  war,  what  shall  we  say  of 
Gibraltar  ?  The  English  indeed  took 
it  without  difficulty  in  the  Spanidft 
war;  but  then  it  had  not  an  adequate 
defence,  either  by  sea  or  land :  whereas 
now,  that  it  has  a  strong  garrison, 
with  plenty  of  provisions,  and  a  nu< 
merous  fleet  in  its  harbour,  what  man 
in  his  senses  can  suppose  it  is  in  any 
danger  of  being  taken?  They  roust  first 
triumph  over  the  English  flag,  drive 
them  from  what  they  consider  their 
proper  element,  and  send  out  a  pow* 
erful  navy  to  scour  the  ocean  and  pre- 
serve the  dominion  of  it. 

"  Bergen-op-Zoom  does  not  yield  to 
Gibraltar  in  regard  to  its  communica- 
tion with  the  sea;  and  has  the  further 
advantage  of  being  supported  by  aa 
entrenched  camp,  whence  the  garrisoo 
may  te  relieved  every  day,  if  neces- 
sary. A  hedge  defended  by  a  body 
of  grenadiers,  who  had  it  in  their 
power  to  relieve  one  another,  might 
defy  the  attacks  of  a  Vauban;  while, 
on  the  other  hand^  a  Bergen-op-Zoom, 
with  a  sufficient  garrison,  but  com- 
manded by  a is  no  better 

than  a  hedge. 

"  The  famous  Benjamin  Robinson, 
the  best  military  mathematician  of  the 
age,  being  called  over  from  England 
by  the  prince  of  Orange,  to  assist  in 
the  defence  of  the  place,  00  his  arri- 
val found  it  taken.  Having  minutely 
examined  every  part  of  it,  he  declared 
that  it  was  as  tenable  when  the  French 
entered  it  bv  assault,  as  it  was  when 
they  first  began  their  approaches; 
and  that.  If  it  had  been  defended  as  it 
should  have  been,  neither  force  nor 
stratagem  could  have  reduced  it. 
Marshal  Schmettaw,  wTio  knew  the 
practical  part  as  well  as  the  other  did 
the  theory,  and  to  whom  a  journal  of 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


HISTORICAL. 


271 


the  besiegers  and  the  besieged  was 
sent  twice  a  week,  was  ready  from  the 
begHiDing  to  lay  any  wager  against 
Lowendahl,  if,  as  he  said  bimself,  the 
Hollanders  only  made  use  of  a  single 
arm  to  defend  it. 

"  How  then  was  it  taken  ?  Why, 
the  commandant  did  not  take  the  least 
precaution,  or  follow  the  most  simple 
roles  of  his  profession.  He  neither 
made  timely  sallies,  sprung  his  mines, 
nor  gave  any  other  interruption  to  the 
approaches  of  the  enemy.  He  nei- 
ther filled  the  ditch  with  water,  nor, 
io  a  word,  observed  a  single  article  of 
wbal  was  prescribed  in  a  manuscript, 
left  by  Coehorn  himself,  for  the  in- 
stroctioQ  of  those  who  might  ^n  a  fu- 
ture oocasion  have  to  defend  the  place, 
Mke  a  fother's  last  will  in  favour  of  a 
bek^ved  daughter.  This  valuable  man- 
uscript was  found  among  the  common 
lumber  of  the  governor,  who  gave 
himself  so  little  concern,  that  one 
nonuBg,  while  the  French  were,  con- 
trary to  custom,  mounting  quietly  a 
breach  which  they  had  made  in  one 
fkf  the  bastions  of  the  place,  he  was 
extended  at  hb  ease  upon  a  feather 
bed,  not  caring  either  to  expose  his 
person,  or  even  to  bestow  a  thought 
an  the  defence  of  his  garrison ;  so  that 
they  paid  him  a  visit  in  his  very  house, 
and,  on  waking  him  out  of  his  sleep, 
haikd  him  their  prisoner.'^ 


MIRACULOUS  ESCAPE  OF  COLONEL 
PONSONBT, 

At  tJie  Battle  of  Waterloo. 

From  Mitford's  Historical  Account  of  the 
Battle. 

Among  the  examples  of  intense  suf- 
fering, and  miraculous  escape,  which 
the  eventful  history  of  this  day  disclo- 
sed, there  is  not  one  more  calculated 
to  excite  our  sjrmpathy,  than  the  case 
of  the  Hon.  Col.  Ponsonby,  of  the  12th 
dragoons.  I  have  been  favoured  with 
an  account,  drawn  up  by  a  friend  of 
that  gallant  officer,  to  satisfy  the  pain- 
Ail  curiosity  of  liiis  family,  taken  al* 


roost  literally  from  his  own  words  3  an 
account  equally  remarkable  for  its  af^ 
fecting  simplicity  and  moral  reflections. 
If  the  reader  peruse  it  with  the  same 
emotions  I  have  experienced,  he  will 
be  thankful  for  its  introduction,  and 
rejoice  with  me,  that  notwithstanding 
bis  many  perils.  Col.  Ponsonby  still 
survives  for  bn  country  and  his  friends. 

Dear  Lady  B , 

"  You  have  often  wished  for  some 
written  account  of  the  adventures  and 
sufferings  of  your  son,  Col.  Ponsonby, 
in  the  field  of  Waterloo ;  the  modesty 
of  his  nature  is,  however,  no  small 
obstacle  in  the  way.  Will  the  follow- 
ing imperfect  sketch  supply  its  place 
until  it  comes  ?   The  battle  alluded  to 

one  morning  in  the  library  at  A , 

and  his  answers  to  many  of  the  ques- 
tions which  were  put  to  him,  are  here 
thrown  together,  as  nearly  as  I  could 
remember,  in  his  own  words : — 

"  The  weather  cleared  up  at  noon, 
and  the  sun  shone  out  a  little  just  as 
the  battle  began.  The  armies  were 
within  800  yards  of  each  other ;  the 
videttes,  before  they  were  withdrawn, 
being  so  near  as  to  be  able  to  con- 
verse. At  one  moment  I  imagined 
that  I  saw  Bonaparte  with  a  consider- 
able stafTj  moving  rapidly  along  the 
front  of  our  line. 

<<  I  was  stationed  with  my  regiment 
(about  300  strong)  at  the  extreme  of 
the  left  wing,  and  directed  to  act  dis- 
cretionally ;  each  of  the  armies  were 
drawn  up  on  a  gentle  declivity,  a  small 
valley  lying  between  them. 

"  At  one  o'clock,  observing,  as  I 
thought,  unsteadiness  in  a  column  of 
French  infantry,  (50  by  20  (1000)  or 
thereabouts)  which  were  advancing 
with  an  irregular  fire,  I  resolved  to 
charge  them.  As  we  were  descend- 
ing on  a  gallop,  we  received  from  our 
own  troops  on  the  right,  a  fire  much 
more  destructive  than  theirs,  they 
haf  ing  began  long  before  it  could  take 
elSect,  and  slackening  as  we  drew 
nearer;  when  we  were  within  fifly 
paces  of  them  they  turned,  and*much 
execution  was  done  among  them,  as 


272  aiafOEicAL. 

we  were  foSowcd  by  some  Belgians, 
who  had  remarked  our  success. 

^^But  we  had  no  sooner  passed 
through  them,  than  we  were  attacked 
in  our  turn,  before  we  could  form,  by 
about  300  Polish  lancers,  who  had 
come  down  to  their  relief.  The 
French  artillery  pouring  in  among  us 
a  heavy  fire  of  grape-shot,  which, 
however,  for  one  of  our  men,  killed 
three  of  their  own  ;  in  tlie  meteej  I  was 
disabled  almost  instantly  in  both  my 
arms,  and  followed  by  a  few  of  my 
men,  who  were  presently  cut  down, 
(no  quarter  being  asked  or  given ;)  I 
was  carried  on  by  my  horse,  till,  re- 
ceiving a  blow  on  my  head  from  a  sa- 
bre, I  was  thrown  senseless  on  my 
face  to  the  ground.  Recovering,  I 
raised  myself  a  little  to  look  round, 
(being  I  believe  at  that  time  in  a  con- 
dition to  get  up  and  run  away)  when 
a  lancer  passing  by,  exclaimed,  *  Tu 
n'es  pas  mort,  coquin  ?'  [Thou  art  not 
dead,  villain  ?']  and  struck  his  lance 
through  my  back ;  my  head  dropped, 
the  bluod  gushed  into  my  mouth,  a 
dif]&culty  of  breathing  came  on,  and  I 
thought  all  was  over. 

"  Not  long  afterwards,  (it  was  then 
impossible  to  measure  time,b\]t  I  must 
have  fallen  in  less  than- 10  minutes  af- 
ter the  charge)  a  tirailleur  tame  up  to 
plunder  me,  threatening  to  take  my 
fife.  I  told  him  he  might  search  me, 
directing  him  to  a  small  side  pocket, 
in  which  he  found  three. dollars,  being 
all  1  had  :  he  unloosed  ray.  stock,  tore 
open  my  waistcoat,  and  then  left  me 
in  a  very  uneasy  posture :  he  was  no 
sooner  gone  than  another  came  up  for 
the  same  porposey  but  on  my  assuring 
him  I  had  been  plundered,  he  left  nie  \ 
when  an  officer  bringing  on  some 
troops,  (to  which  probably  the  tirail- 
leurs belonged)  and  halting  where  I 
lay,  stooped  down  and  addressed  me, 
saying  he  feared  I  was  badly  wound- 
ed; I  replied  that  I  was,  and  expres- 
sed a  wish  to  be  removed  into  the  rear ; 
be  said  it  was  against  the  order  to  re- 
move even  their  own  men,  but  that  if 
th^  gained  the  day,  as  they  probaUy 


would,  (for  he  aadetstood  the  Duke  of 
Wellington  was  killed,  and  that  six  of 
our  battalions  had  surrendered)  every 
attention  in  his  power  should  be  shown 
me.  I  complained  of  thirst,  and  he 
held  his  brandy  botde  to  my  lips,  d^ 
recting  one  of  his  men  to  lay  me 
straight  on  my  side,  and  place  a  knap- 
sack under  my  head ;  he  then  passed 
into  the  action.  I  shall  never  knov 
to  whose  generosity  I  was  indebted, 
as  I  conceive,  for  my  life;  of  what 
rank  he  was  I  cannot  say,  he  wore  a 
blue  coat.  By  and  by  another  tirail- 
lenr  came  and  knelt  and  6red  over 
me,  loading  and  firing  many  tames^ 
and  conversing  with  great  gaiety  all 
the  while ;  at  last  he  ran  off,  <^  Vena 
feree  bien  aise  d'entendre  que  noos 
alions  nous  retirer;  bon  jour,  mon 
ami,  [*  You  will  be  very  glad  to  hear 
that  we  are  retreating ;  good  day,  tnf 
friend.n 

^^  While  the  battle  continued  iatliat 
part,  several  of  the  wounded  men  mmA 
dead  bodies  near  roe  were  bit  witk 
the  balls,  which  came  very  thick  ki 
that  place.     Towards  evening,  wlieo 
the  Prussians  came,  the  continiied  roar 
of  the  cannon  along  theirs  and   tke 
Bntish  line  growing  loader  and  iond^- 
as  they  drew  near,  was  the  finest  thi^ 
I  ever  heard.     It  was  dnsk,  when  taw» 
squadrons  of  Prussian  cavalry,  both  of 
them  two  deep,  passed  over  me  in  UM. 
trot,  lifdng  me  from  the  ground,  and 
tumbling  me  about  cruelly ;  the  clat* 
ter  of  their  approach,  and  the  appre- 
hensions it  excited,  may  be  easily  con* 
ceived :  had  a  gun  came  that  way,  it 
would  have  done  for  me.    The  battle 
was  then  nearly  over,  or  removed  to 
a  distance :  the  cries  and  groans    of 
the  wounded  all  around  roe,  becaxue 
every  instant  more  and  more  audible, 
succeeding  to  the  shouts,  imprecatioiiB, 
outcries  of  ^  Vive  PCmpereur,'  the  dls-> 
charges  of  mu$quetry  and  cannon  ; 
now  and  then  intervab  of  perfect  ;4d- 
lence,   which   were   worse   than   the 
noise — I  thought  the  night  would  nev- 
er end.     Much  about  this  time,  I  foasul 
a  soldier  of  tbeJRoyal^^jriis^^acroift  ny 


mSTQlICAL. 


273 


1^8,  wbo  bad  probably  orawkd  tkith- 
er  10  his  agonv ;  bis  weight,  convul- 
sive motipiMy  bis  noises,  aad  the  air  is- 
suing through  a  wound  in  his  side,  dis- 
tress me  greatly,  the  latter  circuQK 
itance  most  of  all,  as  the  case  was  my 
Qwn.  It  was  not  a  dark  nighty  and 
tbe  IVassians  were  wandering  about 
to  plunder  3  and  the  scene  in  Ferdi- 
oand^  Count  Fathom,  came  into  my 
nund,  though  no  women,  I  believe, 
were  there;  several  of  them  came 
and  looked  at  me,  and  passed  o|i ;  at 
l)?n|tb  one  stopped  to  examine  roe«  I 
told  him  as  well  as  t  could,  ((or  I  could 
say  but  little  in  German,)  that  I  was  a 
British  officer,  and  had  been  plunder- 
ed already ;  he  did  not  desist  howev- 
er, and  pulled  me  about  roughly  be- 
Ibre  he  left  me.  About  an  hour  be- 
Ibre  mtdniffht,  I  saw  a  soldier  iu  an 
English  uniform  coming  towards  me; 
be  was,  I  suspect,  on  tbe  same  errand. 
He  came  and  looked  in  my  face;  I 
spoke  instantly,  telling  him  who  I  was, 
and  assurini  him  o(  a  reward,  if  he 
vould  remain  by  me.  He  said  that 
be  belonged  to  the  40th  regiment,  but 
bad  misa^  it.  He  released  me  from 
tbe  dying  man;  being  unarmed,  be 
took  up  a  sword  from  the  ground  and 
stood  over  me,  pacing  backwards  and 
forwards.  At  eight  o'clock  in  the 
D)oming,  some  English  were  seen  at  a 
£stance ;  be  ran  to  them,  and  a  mes- 
senger was  sent  off  to  Hervey.  A 
cart  came  for  me.  I  was  placeid  in  it, 
carried  to  a  farm  house,  about  a  mile 
and  a  half  dbtant,  and  laid  in  the  bed 
from  which  poor  Gordon  (as  1  under- 
stood afterwards^  bad  been  just  ear- 
ned out ;  the  jolting  of  the  cart,  and 
the  difficulty  of  breathing,  were  very 
painful.  I  had  received  seven  wounds; 
a  surgeon  slept  in  my  room,  and  I  was 
saved  by  continual  bleeding,  120 
ounces  iu  two  days,  besides  the  great 
loss  of  blood  on  the  field." 


ISLAND  OF  MALTA. 
In  the  vicinity  of  the  cathedral  of 
Cetta  Veccia^  in  the  island  af  Malta, 


a  smaO  grotto  is  to  be  seen,  in  wbicb 
a  statue  of  St.  Paul  is  erected ;  that 
apostle  being  highly  venerated  by  tbe 
Maltese,  wbo  suppose  him  to  have  de- 
livered that  bland  from  serpents^  with 
which  it  was  before  infested.  This 
grotto  was  formed  by  scooping  from  a 
certain  spot  a  species  of  soft  and  cal- 
careous  white  earth,  known  at  Malta 
by  the  name  of  St  Paul's  earth.  Ta- 
bles are  made  of  it,  on  which  is  im- 
pressed the  imaffe  of  the  apostle,  with 
a  sierpent  in  his  baad.  This  earth  hat 
also  the  reputation  of  being  a  specific 
against  fevers,  and  highly  efficacious 
IB  aMAy  other  diaaases;  but  tbe  leara- 
ed  deny  that  it  has  ai^  other  proper- 
ty than  that  of  Aimishing  a  gentle  su- 
dorific. 

The  Maltese  also  affirm  that  a  con- 
tinual miracle  is  performed  by  St. 
Paul,  as  the  mass  in  the  grotto  appears 
to  sufier  no  diminution,  whatever  quan- 
tity may  be  taken  from  it.  For  this 
assertion  there  is  apparently  some 
foundation,  but  a  speedy  reproduction 
may  probably  be  caused  by  the  hu- 
midity of  the  grotto,  and  tbe  earth's 
want  of  consistency ;  cavities,  howev- 
er, are  in  many  places  observable, 
where  pieces  have  been  detached  from 
the  mass  by  tbe  application  of  sharp 
instruments.  A  white  lichen  grows 
over  tlie  interior  surface  of  the  vault 
of  St.  Paul's  grotto. 

In  tiie  environs  of  this  city,  large 
caverns  are  in  many  places  to  be  seeui 
divided  into  such  numerous  ramifica> 
tions  as  to  ibrm  a  labyrinth,  where  aa 
inconsiderate  person  might  lose  him- 
self and  perish :  they  were  formerly 
places  of  sepulture,  and  now  retain 
the  name  of  catacombs.  Stone  coffins 
are  placed  in  ihem  on  each  side,  one 
above  another.  Some  of  diese  babi*' 
tations  of  stone  are  much  broader  than 
others,  and  present  an  excavation  for 
two  heads,  significantly  intimating  that 
they  were  probably  intended  for  hus- 
band and  wife.  These  catacombs 
perhaps  served  for  a  retreat  for  the 
Maltese,  when  their  island  experienced 
tbe  frequent  ravages^o^^^jcur^    Malta 

I      I  )igitized  by  > 


'dwe 


2r4 


eiooEAraicAL. 


is  situated  almost  centrally  between 
Africa  and  Sicily,  in  the  Mediterra- 
nean sea,  being  about  twelve  miles  in 
breadth,  and  twenty-one  in  length. 

It  is  little  more  than  a  rock,  almost 
bare,  consisting  of  a  white  calcareous 
kind  of  stone,  of  a  loose  texture,  which 
does  not  absolutely  repel  cultivation. 
No  vestige  of  a  volcano  is  to  be  found 
on  Malta,  nor  even  any  vitrifiable  sub- 
stances; excepting  tale,  gypse,  and 
clay,  every  thing  is  calcareous;  and 
the  clay,  which  is  thinly  scattered,  is 
mixed  with  calcareous  matter. 


GEOGRAPHICAL. 


KINGDOM  OF  ASHANTilE  IN 

AFRICA. 

We  are  much  mistaken  if  the  short- 
est and  best  road  for  Europeans,  to 
Tombuctoo,  will  not  be  found  to  be 
that  from  Cummazee,  the  capital  of 
tlie  Ashantees.  It  is  somewhat  re- 
markable that  we  should  just  now, 
for  the  first  time  in  the  course  of  two 
hundred  years,  learn  any  thing  of  this 
rich  and  populous  nation,  whose  ca- 
pital is  situated  not  a  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  from  the  British  factory. — 
In  the  course  of  last  year  a  mission 
from  the  governor  of  Cape  Coast  Cas- 
tle, was  sent  to  Zey  Tooloo  Quamina, 
king  of  Ashantee,  consisting  of  Mr. 
Bowdich,  Mr.  Hutchison,  and  Mr. 
Tedlie.  For  some  time  after  their 
arrival  in  the  capital,  ihey  were  kept 
in  close  confinement,  owing  to  the 
jealousy  instilled  into  the  king's  mind 
by  some  Moorish  merchants.  Their 
good  conduct,  however,  enabled  them 
to  overcome  all  difiieulties,  and  the 
king  was  ^o  well  satisfied  of  the  sin- 
cerity of  their  views  and  declarations, 
that  he  concluded  a  treaty  with  them, 
and  consented  to  send  his  children  to 
be  educated  at  Cape  Coast  Castle. — 
The  following  extract  of  a  letter  from 
Mr.  Bowdich  will  amuse  our  readers: 

*  The  place  itself  is  most  magnifi- 
cent, the  frame  work  of  some  of  the 


windows  is  made  of  gold,  and  the 
architecture  is  so  perfect,  that  it  might 
be  technically  described.  We  were 
permitted  to  enter  soon  after  two 
oMock,  and  the  king  received  us  with 
the  most  encouraging  courtesy,  and 
the  most  flattering  distinction ;  we 
paid  our  respects  in  pairs,  passing 
along  a  surprising  extent  of  line  to 
the'  principal  Caboceers,  many  from 
remote,  and  some  from  Moorish  ter- 
ritories, all  of  them  encircled  by  re- 
tinues, astonishing  to  us  from  their 
number,  order,  and  decorations.  We 
were  then  requested  to  remove  to  a 
distant  tree  to  receive  their  salutes, 
which  procession,  though  simply 
transient,  continued  until  past  eight 
o'clock;  it  was  indescribably  im- 
posing from  its  variety,  magnificence, 
and  etiquette.  When  the  presents 
were  displayed,  nothing  could  surpass 
the  surprise  of  the  king,  but  the 
warm,  yet  dignified  avowal  of  his  ob- 
ligation. "  Englishmen,^'  said  he, 
(admiring  the  workmanship  of  the  ar- 
ticles,) "know  how  to  do  every 
thing  proper,^'  turning  to  his  favourite 
with  a  smile  auspicious  to  our  inter- 
ests. On  Wednesday  morning  the 
king's  mother  and  sisters,  and  one  of 
the  Caboceers  of  the  largest  Ashan- 
tee towns  on  the  frontier,  paid  us  a 
visit  of  ceremony;  their  manners 
were  courteou?^  and  dignified,  and 
they  were  handed  and  attended  with 
a  surprising  politeness  by  the  captains 
in  waiting- 

<  To-day  we  were  conducted  to  a 
large  yard,  where  the  king,  encircled 
by  a  varied  profusion  of  insignia, 
more  sumptuous  than  what  we  had 
seen  before,  sat  at  the  end  of  a  long 
file  of  counsellors,  Caboceers,  and 
captains.  They  were  seated  nnder 
their  umbrellas  of  scarlet,  or  yellow 
cloth,  of  silk  shawls,  cottons  of  everjr 
glaring  variety,  and  decorated  with 
carved  ^nd  golden  pelicans,  pantbeflk 
baboons,  barrels,  and  crescents,  ^i 
on  the  top ;  their  shape  generally  that 
of  a  dome.  Distinct  and  pompons 
retmnes  were  jpboe^around  with  goU 


OlOGimPBICAL. 


275 


8,  spangled  elephants'  tails,  to 
keep  off  the  flies,  gold-headed  swords, 
erebossed  muskets,  and  many  other 
splendid  Dovelties  too  numerous  to 
mention.  Each  chief  had  the  dignity 
of  his  own  province  to  his  right  and 
left;  it  was  truly  <^ concilium  in^con- 
cUio.''  We  have  observed-  only  one 
horse,  which  is  kept  by  the  chief  cap- 
tain for  state,  the  people  riding  on 
bollocks.  At  the  request  of  the  king 
I  monnted  this  rare  animal,  first  with 
a  Moorish  saddle,  but  it  was  incon- 
venient, and  the  king  having  heard 
Englishmen  could  ride  with  a  cloth 
only,  begged  me  to  display  my  horse- 
manship, which  1  did  for  his  amuse- 
■lent. 

^The  manners  and  deportment  of 
tbe  king  are  dignified  in  the  extreme, 
and  his  sentiments  would  do  credit  to 
the  most  civilised  monarch;  he  is 
laghly  delighted  with  the  medicines, 
and  has  begged  for  a  great  quantity, 
trying  to  learn  by  heart  the  doses  and 
uses  of  each.  The  surgical  instru- 
ments also  attracted  his  close  atten- 
tion, and  when  Mr.  Tedlie  showed 
bin  a  piece  of  bone  which  he  had 
taken  from  an  Indian  blackman's 
head,  who  survived  the  operation,  his 
wonder  could  only  be  equalled  by  his 
admiration.  When  I  displayed  my 
telescope  and  cameraobscura,  the  king 
exclaimed,  ^^  white  man  next  to  God  : 
black  man  know  nothing." 

The  king,  it  seems,  keeps  his  harem 
at  a  little  distance  from  the  capital, 
and  once  took  the  gentlemen  of  the 
anission  on  a  visit  to  it.  The  ladies 
live  in  the  midst  of  a  park,  in  small 
booses  adjoining  one  another,  and  are 
allowed  to  walk  about  within  the  en- 
closure, but  not  to  pass  the  gates, 
wfaach  are  guarded  by  slaves.  The 
number  of  these  ladies,  kept  like 
pheasants  in  a  preserve,  was  said  to 

Qount  to  three  hundred  and  thirty- 


uaoui 


^The  capital  of  Ashantee  b  sup- 
posed to  contain  about  forty  thousand 
iobabitants.  It  lies  in  a  vale,  and  is 
surrounded  with  «ie  onbroken  mass 


of  the  deepest  verdure.  The  houses 
are  low  and  small,  of  a  square  or  ob- 
long form,  and  composed  of  canes 
wattled  together,  and  smoothly,  plas- 
tered over  with  a  mixture  o{,clay  and 
sand  called  awish,  which  is  also  used 
to  form  their  fioora.  The  roofs  are 
thatched  with  long  grass.  A  piece  of 
cloth  passed  round  the  loins,  and  ex- 
tending to  the  knee,  is  the  general 
dress  of  the  natives.  The  richer  class 
have  a  larger  and  finer  piece,  which 
they  sometimes  throw  over  the  shoul- 
ders. They  wear  a  great  number  of 
gold  ornaments,  rings,  bracelets,  neck- 
laces, pendants,  &c.  and  gold  fetiches 
of  every  form. 

While  the  gentlemen  of  the  mission 
remained  at  Cummazee,.a  near  rela- 
tion of  the  king  shot  himself ;  among 
other  ceremonies  observed  at  his  fu- 
neral, a  slave  was  put  to  death  by  tor- 
ture ;  and  it  was  understood  that  hu- 
man sacrifices  were  always  a  part  of 
the  fiKieral  rites  of  all  persons  of  con- 
sequence in  the  state.  It  is  also  said 
that  suicide  is  very  common  among 
them. 

Mr.  Bowdich  has  been  indefatiga- 
ble in  his  endeavours  to  procure  in- 
formation respecting  Ashantee,  and 
the  countries  beyond  it.  From  one 
of  the  travelling  Moors,  he  obtained, 
he  says,  a  route-book,  at  the  expense 
of  his  own  wardrobe  and  the  doctor's 
medicines;  but  the  fellow  told  him 
"he  had  sold  him  his  eye.''  The 
route  from  Cummaxee  to  Tombuctoo, 
it  appears,  is  much  travelled ;  in  the 
way  thither,  the  next  adjoining  territo- 
ry is  that  of  Dwabin,  with  the  king 
of  which,  Bowdich  also  concluded  a 
treaty.  Bordering  on  this  is  a  large 
lake  of  brackish  water,  several  miles 
in  extent,  and  surrounded  by  nume- 
rous and  populous  towns;  and  be- 
yond the  lake  is  the  country  of  Bun- 
tookoo,  with  the  king  of  which,  the 
king  of  Ashantee  was  unfortunately  at 
war.  He  obtained  abo  the  exact  sit- 
uation of  the  gold  pits  in  Ashantee, 
and  the  neighbouring  kingdoms,  from 
which  It  appears  that  the  name  of  the 


276 


AOfttCULTUAAL. 


ina 


ptiy| 


^Gold  Coast"  has  not  b«en 
given  to  this  part  of  Africa. 

Mr.  Bowdicfa  teamed  from  some 
of  the  Moorish  merchants,  who  had 
ibrmeriybeen  at  Haoussa,  that,  during 
thehr  residence  there,  a  white  man  was 
seen  going  down  the  Niger,  near  (hat 
capitflu,  in  a  large  canoe,  in  which  all 
the  rest  were  blacks.  This  drcum- 
stance  bemg  reported  to  the  king,  he 
hnmediatety  dispatched  some  of  his 
|)eople  to  advise  him  to  return,  and 
to  inform  him  that,  if  he  ventured  to 
proceed  much  farther,  he  would  be 
destroyed  by  the  cataracts  of  the  riv- 
er, the  white  man,  however,  persisted 
in  his  voyage,  mistaking  apparently 
the  good  intentions  of  those  sent  by 
the  king  to  warn  him  of  his  danger. 
A  large  party  was  then  dispatched, 
with  orders  to  sei^e  and  bring  him  to 
Haoussa,  which  they  effected  after 
some  opposition;  here  he  was  detain- 
ed by  the  king  for  the  space  of  two 
years,  at  the  end  of  which  he  took  a 
fever  and  died.  These  Moors  de- 
clared that  thev  had  themselves  seen 
this  white  man  at  Haoussa.  This  is 
unqnestionably  a  more  probable  ac- 
count of  the  fate  of  Park  than  that 
which  wto  given  by  Isaaco,  on  the 
supposed  authority  of  Amadoa  Fati- 
ma;  and,  as  ^  Moors  do  not  destroy 


papers,''^  it  is 


that  by 


ofieringa  considerable  sum  of  money, 
those  of  this  unfortunate  traveller  may 
be  recovered  through  the  channet  of 
some  of  the  Moors  of  Ctimmasee. 
Ant.  Mag. 

*     From  Hodges*t  Tmwk  In  bidia. 
CALCUTTA. 
The  appearance  of  the  country  was 
tether  unfavourable  at  the  entrance  of  j 
the  Ganges ;  a  few  bushes  at  the  wa- 
ter's edge,  barely  marking  tfie  distinc- 
tion be^een  sky  and  water.    As  the  ' 
ship  approaches  Calcutta  the  river  be- 
comes narrower.  A  spot  denominated 
Garden  Reach,  presents  a  view  of 
handsome  buildings,  on  a  flat,  sur- 
wunded  by  gardens :  these  stractmt» 


are  the  villas  of  the  opulent  inhahi-' 
unts  of  Calcutta.  After  gaining  an* 
other  reach  of  the  river,  trc  whde  of 
Calcutta  bursts  at  once  upon  the  eye* 
This  capital  of  the  British  possessions 
in  the  east,  b  defended  by  a  consider- 
able fortress  on  the  sooth  side  oi  the 
river,  superior  in  strength  and  correct- 
ness of  design  to  any  one  In  India. 

The  city  of  Calcutta  extends  about 
four  miles  and  a  half  along  the  banks 
of  the  river:  the  breadth  in  many 
parts,  is  inconsiderable.  The  streets 
are  broad,  and  the  line  of  buildings 
surrounding  two  sides  of  the  esplanade 
of  the  fort,  b  magnificent :  their  beittg^ 
detached  from  each  other,  and  tnsnli^ 
ted,  renders  them  additionally  superfK 
The  buildings  are  all  on  a  large  scale, 
that  a  free  circulation  oi  air  mvs  be 
admitted  5  a  very  necessary  Consider* 
ation  in  a  climate  the  heat  of  which 
IS  extreme.  Our  aotlxM*  very  emphat- 
ically says,  '<  every  house  may  be  coq» 
sidered  as  a  temple  dedicated  to  ho»* 
pitality.^ 


AGRICULTURAL^ 

TALUABLE  BEANS. 

The  follonring  article  is  copied  frona 
a  Carolina  paper,  where  it  appears 
these  beans  have  been  suceessAiUy 
cultivated  for  several  years.  Whether 
they  have  been  introduced  into  the 
northern  states  we  are  uninformed,  and 
should  be  thankful  for  ai\y  Informa- 
tion on  the  subject,  from  our  agricul- 
tural friends. 

EARLY  COWXNRT  WSH  BEANS. 

These  excellent  beans  are  of  an  oval 
shape,  and  of  moderate  size;  of  a  co- 
lour chiefly  white,  thiged  with  a  livefy 
red,  e^)eciany  about  the  eye.  The 
culture  of  them  originated^  after  vari- 
ous experiments,  in  cooi'comfort  ^j^ 
den,  near  Charleston,  and  it  was  t^^ 
successfully  continued  for  some  years, 
and  then*  product  widelv  disscsninated. 
They  have  now  taken  the  name  of  eon- 
fy  tomfoTt  iean^,  to  distinguish  them 


AGUCULTimAL, 


277 


(ran  all  odier  torts,  both  native  and 
imported,  over  which  it  is  presumed 
fircMii  loDg  experience,  that  they  may 
fairly  claim  a  decided  superiority. 
They  were  originally  called  the  string- 
less  beans,  because  the  young  ones, 
when  gathered  in  due  tUne,  do  not  re- 
quire stringing.  When  boiled  they 
mre  pecoliariy  tender  and  well  tasted, 
amd  may  be  justly  ranked  with  the 
tnt  aider  of  esculents.  They  will  re- 
sist the  summer^  heat ;  and,  if  planted 
Id  doe  proportions,  and  at  proper  in- 
tenrals,  will  afford  ample  supply  for 
the  tairfe,  (in  ordmary  seasons)  five  or 
six  raoBtlis  In  the  year,  and  at  a  time 
too,  when  there  may  be  a  general  de- 
ficiency of  other  vegetables. 

But,  excluMve  of  then*  excellence 
ivodinary  purposes,  these  valuable 
beans  possess  another  latent  intrin- 
»c  property,  which,  when  generally 
known,  cannot  fail  to  insure  a  ready 
introduction  of  them  to  numerous  fa^ 
Bylies,  wJu>  wish  to  augment  their  do- 
roestjc  comfort.  Strange  as  it  may 
seem,  this  property  consists  in  their 
astonishing  efficacy  in  destroying  those 
▼ery  loatluome  insects  called  cMtfe, 
er  bed-4M^! 

In  a  season  when  there  is  no  pros- 
pect of  an  approaching  frost,  let  a 
quantity  of  these  beans  be  planted; 
idien  diey  are  well  advanced  ia  their 
growth,  so  that  ^  leaves  be  property 
expanded,  let  a  requisite  number  of 
the  plants  be  taken  green  and  fresh, 
but  not  wet,  In  the  evening,  and  placed 
thickly  about  the  bed  and  beddlae,  or 
in  those  parts  of  the  bed-room  where 
the  bugs  are  DMSt  mmeroos;  this 
doae,  yon  may  expect  to  obUiia  a 
comfortable  nights  repose,  free  from 
the  annoyattce  of  those  troublesome 
intruders,  however  great  it  might  hith- 
erto have  been;  for  ia  the  morning 
you  will  find  most  of  them  adhering  to 
the  leaves  and  stalks  of  the  plaats, 
^here  tiwy  will  continue  in  a  torpid 
^R>tionle8s  state,  witiKnit  the  ability  of 
escaping.  Let  the  plants  be  replaced 
with  fresh  ones  a  few  times,  and  you 
win  be  00  I^iv^  iafestcd  with  tbese 


detestable  parioinen  of  your  comfort. 
Probatumest. 


EAST-INDIA  SWASH. 

The  following  account  of  the  Elast- 
India  squash,  says  the  Georgetown, 
(Kentucky)  Wasp,  taken  from  the 
notes  of  a  n  offcer  attsicbed  to  the  Tel- 
low  Stone  expedition,  was  fumlsbed 
us  by  a  friend  for  pnblicatioA. 
EasUjndia  Star  Sqwuk. 
Camp,  Coundl  Bluffs,  Oct.  10, 1820. 

In  the  year  1719,  captain  Bliss,  of 
the  United  States  army,  brought  three 
seeds  to  this  place,  which  he  procured 
from  his  brother,  who  brought  them 
from  the  flast-lndies  to  New- York. 
They  were  planted  by  lieutenant 
Shannoo,  in  the  spring  of  1820.  Two 
of  the  seeds  were  planted  in  a  bottom, 
which  were  destroyed  by  the  munda- 
tioa :  one  was  fortanately  planted  oa 
an  elevated  spot  of  ground,  and  flour- 
ished ;  it  spread  over  half  an  acre  of 
ground,  and  would  have  spread  much 
further,  but  was  prevented  by  lopping 
the  extremities  of  the  vine.  It  pro- 
duced fortv-two  squashes.  The  gene- 
ral size  of  them  were  twenty  inches 
in  length,  and  four  feet  nine  inches  in 
eircumfereDoe.. 


FOUNDERED  HORSES. 

A  letter  from  Salem,  North  Caro* 
I'ma,  contains  a  valuable  cure  for  foon- 
dered  horses. 

A  traveller,  Abraham  Steiner,  by 
feedmg  on  raw  com,  only  at  night, 
and  giving  too  plentifully  o(  water  ia 
the  mormng,  so  focmdered  hb  horse, 
that  before  ten  o'clolck  he  was  unable 
to  move  a  limb.  By  the  advice  of  a 
stranger  who  met  him,  he  asade  a 
decoction  of  the  sassafras  root,  and 
drenched  his  horse  with  it  ^x  or  seven 
times,  at  intervals  of  about  an  hour, 
■sing  a  Mack  bottle  full  at  a  time,  with 
a  handfol  o(  common  sah  in  tt  At 
four  o'clock  the  horse  walked  a  short 
distance  to  a  wheat  field,  and  ate  of 
the  freen  ifheat ;  at  night  he  was  put 


ars 


F<»BTICAL. 


into  a  dry  stabk  wkh  no  other  food 
than  com  blades,  and  in  the  morning 
the  man  continued  his  journey  on  a 
sound  horse.  No  unsoundness  was 
afterwards  discovered  in  the  horse. 


MANURE  FOR  FRUIT  TREES. 

"  Tempus  io  aerorum  cotea  coBsumere 

dulce  eat" 

In  rural  economy,  the  objects  that 
might  be  converted  to  prontable  ac- 
count, are  inconceivably  numerous,  and 
still  but  imperfectly  known,  for  in- 
stance, the  blood  of  the  cow  is  an  ex- 
eellent  manure  for  fruit  trees.  It  also 
forms  the  basis  of  Prussian  blue. 


CATERPILLARS. 
To  rid  a  garden  of  Caterpillars, 
take  the  advantage  of  a  rainy  morn- 
ing, while  the  leaves  are  wet,  sprinkle 
them,  especially  the  vnder  parts,  and 
young  shoots,  with  fine  sand.  The 
caterpillars,  entangled  in  the  sand,  will 
drop  off  in  apparent  agony^  and  will 
not  return. 

SALT  FOR  CATTLE. 
Lord  Somerville  attributes  the  health 
of  his  flock  of  203  Merino  sheep, 
which  he  purchased  in  Spain,  princi- 
pally to  the  use  which  he  has  made  of 
salt  for  the  last  seven  years  on  his 
farm.  These  sheep  having  been 'ac- 
customed to  the  use  of  smt  in  their 
native  land,  his  lordship  considered, 
that  in  this  damp  climate,  and  in  the 
rich  land  of  Somersetshire,  it  would 
be  absolutely  necessary  to  supply 
them  with  it  regularly.  A  ton  of  salt 
is  used  annually  for  every  1000  sheep; 
a  handful  is  put  in  the  morning,  on  a 
j9at  stone  or  slate,  ten  of  which  set  a 
few  yards  apart,  fte  enough  for  100 
sheep.  Twice  a  week  has  been 
usually  found  sufficient.  Of  a  flock  ij4 
near  lOpo,  there  were  not  ten  old 
sheep  which  did  not  take  kindly  to  it. 
and  not  a  single  lamb  which  did  not 
consnme  it  greedily.  Salt  is  likewise 
a  preventive  of  disorders  ia  stock  fed 


with  rank  green  food,  as  clover  or  tur- 
nips, and  it  is  deemed  a  specific  for 
the  rot. 


FOR  RAISING  CABBAGES. 
Take  from  )he  stumps  of  old  cab* 
bages,  which  you  generally  set  out 
early  in  the  spring,  the  most  promi- 
nent shoots,  after  they  have  sufllct- 
ently  expanded  themselves,  and  set 
them  out  in  the  same  mode  yoo  do 
your  plants,  and  they  will  immediately 
take  root,  and  aflbrd  you  a  very  early 
and  luxuriant  cabbage.  Those  who 
have  tried  this  method  affirm,  that 
they  are  much  earlier,  and  by  far  su- 
perior to  any  that  can  be  produced 
from  the  plants.  They  must  be  bro- 
ken  from  the  stumps  and  not  cdt  off, 
as  the  small  fibres  greatly  facilitate 
their  taking  root. 


POETICAT^. 

Fob  the  Masohic  Register. 
TO  SPRING. 

Auspicious  Spring,  thy  blest  return 

With  hearttelt  joy  we  hail ! 
Oh  swiftly  burst  thy  icy  urn, 

And  dmile  across  the  vale. 

The  blasts  of  winter  linger  still, 

Unwilling  to  retreat ; 
And  slowly  creeps  the  murm'riiig  rill 

Beneath  his  icy  feet 

Yet  often  in  the  noontide  ray, 

We  see  thy  glittering  train, 
Whilst  Winter  yields  the  well-fought  day, 

And  scarce  prolongs  bis  reign. 

Soft  on  the  ground  his  snow-white  shield. 

In  sicatter*d  fragments  lie ; 
And  once  again  the  verdant  field 

Meets  the  delighted  eye. 
The  sails  of  commerce  too  shall  feel 

The  health-inspiring  wind ; 
And  business  onward  rolls  hb  wheel, 

Unfetter'd,  unconfin'd. 

Though  winter  should  forsake  our  plain, 

Will  this  thc^  pnn/er  cheer  P 
Each  dwi  will  bring  it  back  again,  M 

And  bear  it  round  the  year.  ^ 

Fair  promises  io  vain  exist, 
Thev  are  but  frosen  trash : 
Bui  Where's  the  ice  that  can  resist 


90XTICAIi» 


27» 


But  if  those  rays  shoald  eaase  U»  shine, 
We  must  resign  our  breath ; 

And  though  weliv'd  beneath  the  line. 
We'd  mn\y  freeze  to  death. 


For  tbe  Masokic  Rxgistke. 

EPISTLE  ' 

From  a  young  man  to  his  friend. 

j      Hail !  happy  youth,  whose  vig'rous  mind 
Abore  this  earth  can  soar ; 
And  muse  those  fields  quite  uneonfin*d» 
Aad  aU  their  walks  eiplore. 

dweet  groves !  where  peil^t  Mist  resides, 

Aod  ever-bloomiag  Qow'rs ; 
Around  the  calm  unruffled  tides* 

Through  the  ethereal  bowers. 

These  happy  regions  you  have  known, 

Aod  trac'd  each  airy  road ; 
And  oft  on  fancy*s  win^rs  yonVe  flown, 

And  converse  held  with  God.  ^ 

Well  George,  go  forth >  the  prize  is  yours, 
Press  on  with  all  your  might ; 

And  soon  00  Canaan's  banu  youli  stand, 
And  taste  those  sweet  delights. 

Ihere  you  will  see  your  Saviour's  fkce, 
And  gaze  upon  tbose  charms, 

Whieh  often  now  he  doth  uov^U, 
To  lure  you  to  hb  arms. 


Fbok  a  LoiTDoir  Patib. 

The  fiUowmg  fr&fcmtnt^  wert  Jmmd  m  tiu 
SktUUm  Cave  at  the  RayeU  Academy.  Hup- 
posed  to  have  bun  deposited  there  by  one 
of  the  ttudenU. 

THE  SKELETON. 

Behold  this  mun !  twas  a  skull. 

Once  of  ethereal  spirit  full ; 

This  narrow  cell  was  life's  retreat. 

This  suaee  was  thought's  mysterious  seat  : 

What  beauteoos  pictures  BiVd  this  spot, 

What  dreams  of  pleasure  long  forgot ; 

Nor  love,  nor  joy,  nor  hope,  nor  fear, 

Have  left  one  trace  or  record  here. 

Beneath  this  mouldering  canopy 

Once  shone  the  bright  and  busy  eye ; 

But  start  not !  at  the  dismal  void 

If  social  love  that  eye  egnpioy'd ; 

If  with  no  lawless  fire  it  flam'd, 

But  tlirough  the  dew  of  kindness  beam'd ; 

«at  eye  shall  be  forever  bright, 
len  stars  and  suns  have  lost  their  light 

Here  b  this  silent  cavern  hung. 

The  ready,  swift,  and  tuneful  tongue ; 

If  falsehoods  honev  it  disdain'd, 

Aad  when  it  coula  sot  praise,  was  chaiii'd ! 


If  bold  In  vlrtiw^s  canta  Hspoke, 

Yet  gentle  concord  never  broke  ? 
That  tuneful  tongue  shall  plead  for  thee, 
When  death  unveils  eternity. 

Say,  did  these  fingers  delve  the  miney 
Or  with  its  envied  rubies  shine .' 
To  hew  the  rock)  or  wear  the  gem, 
Can  nothing  now  avail  to  them  ? 
But  if  the  page  of  (ruth  they  sought, 
Or  comfort  to  the  mourner  brought ; 
These  hands  a  richer  mead  shall  claim, 
Than  all  that  waits  on  wealth  or  fame. 

Avails  it  whether  bare  or  shod. 
These  feet  the  path  of  duty  trod  ? 
If  from  the  bowers  of  joy  they  fled. 
To  soothe  afflictions  humble  bed  f 
If  grandeur's  guilty  bribe  they  spom'd, 
And  home  to  vhrtae^  lap  retum'd  ? 
These  feet  with  angels'  wings  shall  vie« 
And  tread  the  palace  of  the  sky. 


HOPE. 
The  joumey  of  life  is  a  desolate  wi^, 
And  thickly  eneompase'd  with  trouble  and 

sorrow, 
And  thousands  would  sink  'neath  the  grieft 

of  to-dar, 
Were  it  not  for  the  hope  that  they  fisel  In 

the  morrow. 

Tho*  thunders  may  roar,  and  the  pitiless 

blast 
May  loin  its  keen  sting  as  the  tempest  grows 

loud; 
The  traveller  kAOWs  that  the  storm  shall  be 

past, 
And  sunshine  shall  banish  each  Ungering 

eloud. 

Ah!  sweet  b  the  comfort  that  hope  can  im- 

nart. 
It  softens  the  pang  that  affliction  had  giv*n. 
It  breathes  on  the  wound  of  the  suffering 

heart, 
And  kindly  affords  it  a  oordial  from  heav'n. 

And  say,  is  there  one  without  sorrowful 

hours  j 
Who  always  hath  waked  to  a  joyful  mom, 
Whose  foot  hath  pass'd  sweetly  o'er  bios- 

soms  and  flow'rs. 
While  yet  it  hath  never  been  pierced  by  a 

thorn.' 

Ah !  no,  tho'  misfortune  be  distant  awhile, 
And  snflbr  the  smile  of  content  to  appear, 
Tho'  many  are  seen  incontentmentto  smile. 
Yet  each  in  his  season  has  shed  tho  sad  tear. 

Sweet  Hope !  it  is  thou  that  canst  smother 

our  grief. 
And  kiss  from  our  cheek  the  dull  relic  cf 

sorrow. 


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tMTlCAL*. 


tf  to-dMT  w#  are  ftdv  tbM  Q«i^  give  w  re- 

And  render  us  bafipy  and  gay  ere  the  mor- 
row. 

Then^  be  Hum  for  ever  eoBpankm  and 

friend, 
While  tbfo*  this  darkvaHeyof  death  we 

are  haetingy 
Nor  leave  ua  till  tfonble  and  sorrow  shall 

end»  t 

And  tiina  skaH  emerge  Iptolife  everlasting. 

THE  TEARS  TO  COME. 
My  transient  hoar,  my  little  d^. 
Is  speeding  fiist,  bow  fast !  away ; 
Alrendy  hath  my  satnmer  son 
Half  its  raee  of  brightness  ran. 
Ahmel  I  hear  the  wintry  blast. 
My  « Life  of  Life'*  will  soon  be  past; 
The  flush  of  youth  will  all  be  o*er, 
The  throb  oi  joy  wiRfbrob  no  more. 
And  fancy,  mistress  of  my  lyre. 
Will  cease  to  lend  her  sacred  fire. 
My  trembling  heart— prepare,  prepare 
For  skies  of  gloom,  and  tfaooghts  of  care. 
Sorrows  and  wants  will  make  thae  weep, 
And  feait  of  aga  will  o*er  thee  creep. 
Health  that  smil'd  in  blooming  pride, 
Will  eease  to  warm  ihf  sloggish  tide. 
The  shaft  of  pain  the  point  of  wo> 
Will  bid  the  current  cease  to  flow. 
And  wko,  iilasi  »baH  then  be  nigh. 
To  sooth  me  with  affection's  sigh. 
To  pt«8S  my  feeble  hand  in  theVs, 
To  plead  lor  me  in  silent  prayers, 
Andebeer  me  wHb  those  hopes  that  sbe4 
Rapture  o'er  a  dying  bed  ? 
Pityf  of  the  fofure,  oease  to  roll 
Upon  my  wild  affrighted  soul ! 
Mysterious  fate,  I  will  not  look 
WHhln  thy  dark  eventlM  book  j 
Enough  for  me  to  feel  and  know, 
^rhat  love  and  hope  most  shortly  go ; 
That  joy  wlH  vanish,  fimcy  iy, 
And  death  dissolve  the  closest  tie. 
K'en  now  while  moans  my  pensive  rfayma, 
I  list  the  warning  voice  of  time  ; 
And,  oh !  this  si^,  this  start  of  fear ! 
Tells  me  the  night  will  soon  be  here. 


Seen  bar,  wkh  caotidis  footslepa  tredl 

The  path  that  leads  us  to  the  skies  1 
My  heart  exclaim'd,  no  flower  more  fair 

E'er  bloom'd  In  Eden's  blissfnl  grove  f 
O  Hymen  !  if  decreed  to  share 

The  pore  delights  of  wedded  love. 
Grant  at  that  period  of  my  life, 

When  I  a  partner  fair  may  find. 
To  other  thousand  eharms  of  wife, 

She  adds  that  charm,  the  Pioot  mind ! 


PIETY  IN  WOMAN.  * 

There  blooms  no  flower  on  earth  so  bright 

As  piety  in  youthful  breast ; 
BsuotoK)  source  of  pare  dtUgbt» 

Appears  in  radiant  lostre  dross'd. 
When  gaidng  on  sweet  maiden's  face, 

I've  thought,  has  she  a  pions  mind  ? 
Has  her  heart  known  that  heavenly  grace, 

For  mortals'  happiocns  designed  f 

Then  in  her  face  of  love,  I've  read 
]>evotion  sparkling  from  her  ey^e ; 


LITERARY  CASKET. 
Brother  Samuel  Woodworth,  of  thb 
city,  baa  issued  the  prospectus  of  « 
work  to  be  entitled,  ^  1Foodw&riV9 
Literary  Casket,  (tnd  hadia?  and 
Gentlemen^  Pocket  Magaziney^  to  be 
pub^isbed  in  monthty  ourobers,  each 
containing  72  pwffcs  18mo,  at  three 
dollars  a  year.  The  subjects  are  to  be 
American  Biopaphy,  Original  Essays, 
Original  Moral  Tales,  the  Toilet,  the 
Drama,  the  Forum,  Female  character, 
Academical  Reji^ister,  Domestic  Eco- 
nomy, Reviews,  Desultory  Selections, 
Anecdotes,  Probkms,  Original  Poetry, 
&c.  &c.  We  are  inforiDed  that  the 
u  work  wiU  shortly  appear,  and  we  tkmk 
P  the  well  known  literary  acquirements 
of  the  author,  witt  insure  it  a  liberal 
patronage.  Our  agents  at  a  distance 
are  respectfully  solicited  to  forward  us 
the  nanes  of  sodi  ladies  or  fendeoMn 
in  their  vicininr,  as  wish  to  become 
subscribers  to  the  work. 

HAVERTIILL  GAZETTE. 
A  weekly  paper  under  this  title  has 
recently  beeaestablislied  in  HaverliiUf 
Massachusetts,  by  Mesara.  Btmanx  ft 
HBaaw;  which  for  taste  in  arran^ 
ment,and  neatness  of  execution,  is  not 
exceeded  by  any  paper  in  America. 
Its  contents  are  nignly  interesting,  and 
we  consider  it  a  valuable  acquisition 
to  the  many  periodical  works  of  our 
country.  The  vignette  at  the  head^ 
displays  several  ensigns  of  Masonry, 
and  its  columns  are  frequently  en* 
riched  with  matter  loteresUug  to  t^ 
order. 

HOrr  L  BQLBfORE,  FRINTERS, 
70  Boff^ery,  New^Tork. 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


THE 


AMERICAN  MASONIC  REGISTER, 

AND 

Ladies'  and  Gentlemen's  Magazine. 


BY  LUTHER  PRATT. 


The  Lord  preserveth  the  stmrijofer ;  he  relieveth  the  fatherless  and  widow :   bnt  the  way 
of  the  wicked  he  turaeth  upsidedown.  biblx. 


[No.  VIII.] 


FOR  APRIl.,  A.  n.  1821.  A.  L.  5821. 


[Vol.  I.] 


MASONIC. 


The  foUowiog  oradon,  delivered  in 
Savamahy  before  the  Grand  Lodge 
of  the  state  o(  Georgia,  a  number  of 
sobordinate  lodges,  and  a  numeroos 
assemblage  of  dtixeas,  on  the  27tb  of 
December  last,  being  the  anniversary 
of  St.  John  the  Evangelist ;  by  brother 
Jaooe  Db  La  Motta,  M.  D.  W  .P  .  M* 
of  Solomon's  Lodge,  grand  secretary, 
&c;  has  been  poUtely  handed  us  for 
pubtication  in  the  Masonic  Register : 

ORATION. 
Brethren  and  Companions^ 

HcABD  you  not  the  busy  hum  of  in- 
terrogatory; the  inquisitive  intona- 
tioDs,  vibrating  with  an  earnest  of 
intelUgence;  whence  came  this  con- 
»Mine,  designated  by  the  appellative 
title  of  MASONS  ?  Whence  this  proces- 
sioir,  <n-ganized  with  order,  and  mov- 
ing with  solemnity?  Whence  this 
exhibit  of  insignias,  indicative  of  some 
<fig!ii6ed  trust,  some  important  occu- 
P^oQ?  Whence  this  investment,  dis- 
playing ostentatious  pageantry  ?  Why 
these  distinguishing  decorations,  mani- 
^sting  attachment  or  alliance  to  indus- 


M 


trious  pursuits  ?  ^nd  why  these  sym- 
bolical orders,  expressive  of  architec- 
tural labours? 

To  such  diversified  inquiries,  does 
not  the  desire  for  prompt  reply,  occupy 
the  mind  of  every  Mason  ?  Does  not 
the  compliance  to  gratify  rational  cu- 
riosity, meet  with  a  ready  advocate  in 
every  brother  ?  Does  not  the  bosom  of 
each  individual  of  our  fraternity,  ex- 
pand with  pleasing  emotions,  while 
acceding  to  unfold  the  beauties,  utility 
and  attributes  of  an  order  that  has  -en- 
listed his  best  and  dearest  feelings  in 
the  cause  of  humanity  ?  Does  he  not 
ei^rly  grasp  the  opportunity  that  now 
presents  for  explaining  the  excellence, 
and  portraying  in  growing  colours,  the 
importance  of  an  association,  based 
on  the  general  principles  of  universal 
good  ?  Yes ;  for  while  the  excursive 
eye  is  indulged,  it  discovers  a  coinci- 
dence of  sentiment  in  every  look;  and 
each  expressive  countenance  signifi- 
cantly conveys,  that  I  on  this  occasion 
should  andertake  the  task  of  solving 
these  queries.  Methinks,  you  look  to 
me  for  an  explication  of  what  may 
seem  to  the  uninformed,  as  enveloped 
in  the  mist  of  incongruity;  that  I 
should  dbrobe  the  im«^  of  our  admi- 
raticm^  of  the  trappings  of  apparent  w* 

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282 


uiOt&iuo. 


consistency,  and  disdow  ki  pristine 
beauty.  That  I  should  avert  the  ao 
cumulated  weapons  of  ridicule^  hurled 
against  our  ancient  and  honourable  in- 
stitution, and  cause  the  bbloquy  to 
recoil  on  those,  who  would  tarnish  the 
splendour,  that  the  virtuous  conduct  of 
men^  during  the  revolution  of  ages, 
have  been  instrumental  in  poducing. 
-Would  that  my  powers  were  equal  to 
the  theme !  Would,  that  my  eloquence 
could  speak  in  appropHate  language,, 
the  fervour  of  your  thoughts !  Would, 
that  in  complying  with  the  duty  as- 
signed, I  could  succeed  in  gratifying 
those,  who  have  never  been  ^^  broug^ 
to  lightj^^  in  the  mysteries  of  Free 
Masonry. 

Attempting  at  this  exalted  subject, 
how  fragile,  how  impotent  are  my  best 
efforts.  But,  shall  1  in  vaiu  invoke 
the  genius  who  presides  over  this  hal- 
lowed place,  for  a  ray  of  that  heavenly 
light,  which  warms  the  heart  that 
prompts  to  virtuous  deeds  ?  Shall  I 
iiot  catch  a  smile  from  that  munificent 
being,  whose  ubiquitary  power  so  oft 
inspired  the.  worthy  pastor,  who  from 
this  eminence,  and  on  a  similar  occa^ 
sion,  poured  forth  in  strains  of  (riiilan- 
thropic  ardour,  the  importance  and 
transcendent  excellence  of  our  order? 
Shall  I  descend  from  your  view  with- 
out exerting  my  limited  ability  to  carol 
aloud  the  matchless  worth  and  ac« 
knowledged  utility  of  our  Masonic  in- 
stitution ?  No,  my  brethren  and  com- 
panions !  Your  looks  silently  express 
what  your  lips  would  readily  utter; 
and  you  cast  a  glance  of  anxioos  ex- 
pectation, as  if  from  me  will  emenate 
such  explanations  as  are  consistent 
with  our  duties,  and  that  shall  at  onee 
(fisclose  many  mysterious  objects,  that 
luure  repeatedly  excited  the  astonish- 
mealL  of  the  uninformed,  who  have 
never  been  irradialed  by  the  glorious 
light  of  Masonry.  In  accordam^e  then 
with  the  wish  of  those  who  would 
know  the  incentives  that  unite  us  this 
day  in  the  bond  of  fellowship,  and  that 
cause  us  to  appear  as  we  do,  decked  in 
those  badges,  << more  andeat  thaathe 


golden  floeceor  RoaauMgle;  more 
honourable  than  the  star  and  garter  ;" 
I  shall  attempt  to  describe  a  mere  out- 
line of  those  duties  that  embrace  in 
the  circle  of  our  order,  the  best  priiw 
ciples  of  the  heart;  and  that  may 
unfold  our  pretensions  to  those  con- 
spicuous emblems,  that  distinguish  as 
from  other  associations. 

Who,  among  this  auditory,  are  soli- 
citous to  learn  the  motive  principle, 
the  secret  power,  that  controuls  a. 
band  of  brothers,  and  that  cements 
them  in  an  indissoluble  chain,  that  no 
insidious  device,  no  dark  design,  as 
unhallowed  touch  can  sever  or  dis- 
solve? Who,  within  the  reach  of  my 
voice,  would  question  the  correctness, 
doubt  the  purity,  or  condemn  the  ope- 
rations of  our  fraternity;  If  such  be 
present,  let  them  apply  to  be  inducted 
in  the  sant^tuary  of  our  assemblage ; 
let  them  in  due  form,  and  with  up* 
right  intentions,  ask  admission.  We^ 
tuvn  not  from  the  worthy  and  well 
Qualified ;  we  discountenance  bot  the 
free  horn  and  of  good  report;  we 
close  not  our  doors  to  the  aspiring  £ar 
information,  whose  eyes  are  obscured 
from  the  tnie  light  of  Masonry ;  we 
are  willing  to  receive  and  acknow- 
ledge them  ^^  true  and  trmty.^^  We 
are  ever  ready  to  ^<  bring  the  blind  by 
ways  they  know  not;  lead  them  in 
paths  they  have  not  known;  make 
darkness  light  before  them,  and  crook- 
ed things  straight;  these  things  to  do 
unto  them,  and  not  forsake  Uiem.''* 
We  would  rather  extend  the  helping 
hand,  and  open  the  inviolable  reper^ 
tory  of  our  secrets,  for  the  informatioa 
of  the  candidate  for.  Masonry,  whoae 
intentions  are  honest,  whose  «actioBS 
are  laudable,  and  whose  soul  is  readily 
attuned  to  the  softening  notes  of  sup 
pliant  iiumanity.  We  would  rather 
instruct  them  in  the  means  of  acquir- 
ing pre-eminence,  by  maintaining  the 
2e9e/of  integrity,  with  all  man^d; 
of  acting  on  the  eptare  of  probity 
with  all  the  world ;  o(  jilumidHg  their 

•Isaiah,  ck.iiU.v.  16. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MASOmiK 


dl3 


«Mi^uA  by  the  Ime  of  rectHttde;  and 
of  9pread^g  the  cement  of  brotherly 
love  wherever  our  order  «xtciids.  We 
are  cHsposed  even  to  deVelope  the  ca- 
tnre  of  this  mysticisan,  that  in  c6nsi«rn- 
kig  its  votaries  to  perpetual  silehce, 
embraces  in  its  dispensations  the  best 
principles  of  the  human  heart;  tite 
most  promtDent  of  virtuous  pursuits, 
ihiat  prompts  to  acts  of  charity  and  be- 
Bevelence,  without  distinction  or  re- 
gard to  any  particular  sect  or  denomi- 
natioa ;  that  presents  the  hand  of  fel- 
lowship to  all,  and  that  communes 
aUke  with  the  pJefoeian  and  patrician ; 
with  the  lowly  peasant  and  the  ele- 
▼aled  rooMrch  of  unhmited  domains. 
We  have  no  repugnance  in  associating 
witb,  aad  extending  the  ben^ts  of  our 
order,  to  any  of  moral  character,  be 
bis  occupation  high  or  low ;  and  in 
the  words  of  a  distinguished  brother;* 
**  no  matter  what  country  may  have 
giren  him  birth ;  no  matter  what  cli- 
mate, whether  an  eastern  or  an  Afri- 
€sm  sun  may  have  shone  on  him ;  no 
matter  what  religion  he  may  profess, 
whether  Christian,  Jew,  or  Mahome- 
tan ;  no  nmtter  whether  he  now  anti- 
cipate the  eommg  of  the  Messiah ; 
whether  he  perform  a  pilgrimage  to 
Jerusalem,  to  visit  and  bow  at  the  holy 
t€aib;  or  a  pilgrimage  to  Mecca,  to 
adore  and  worship  the  Proph^;  yet 
if  be  believe  in  God,  he  may  be  a  Ma- 
son." Such  indeed  is  the  universality 
of  our  principles ;  such  the  disposi- 
Con  we  profess,  to  initiate  the  uninfor- 
med, and  irradiate  with  undiminished 
glory,  those  who,  reposing  their  trust 
in  Godf  foUow  virtue  a$  a  leader ^  and 
ytareth  no  danger,  h  becomes  then 
the  boanden  duty  of  every  Mason,  to 
support  the  ezahed  character  of  the 
fraternity,  and  maintain  its  objects, 
in  order  to  evince  in  what  these  cha- 
racteristics consist,  I  shall  endeavour 
to  speak  4>(  a  few  of  the  prominent 
points,  comprised  under  the  duties  of 
a  Mason,  but  first  shall  revert  to  the 
origin  of  tte  order. 


'  Wm.  SeUey,  Etq.  deputy  grsad 


Whsn  from  Ihcf  hands  of  the  Su* 
preme  Architect,  the  world  received 
form  and  order,  beauty  and  symmetry, 
sublimity  and  grandeur.  When  by 
his  will  misshapen  chaos  acquired 
appropriate  divi9ions,  and  confusion 
yielded  to  regularity.  When  planets 
ftrst  moved  within  their  spheres,  and 
the  murmuring  ocean  invited  th^ 
dauntless  spirit  to  embark  on  its  tt^m- 
olous  bosoi^.  When  the  earth  yield- 
ed her  iuctease,  and  man,  like  the 
verdant  meadows  sprang  forth  in  the 
order  of  creation— *and  when  the  hu- 
man *race  by  h^reasbg  numbers,  re^ 
sorted  to  those  inventions,  that  i»ere 
to  contribute  in  the  process  of  time,  to 
his  comforts  and  prosperity;  then  it 
was  that  ^  creature  linked  to  creature, 
man  tomao.''  \  Then  it  was,  we  trace 
the  dawnings  of  those  mechanic  arts, 
whose  usefulness  shone  with  the  splen- 
dour of  meridian  glory,  that  was  to  il- 
fumine  the  whole  human  family,  in 
the  attainment  of  diat  distingnbhed 
rank,  which  by  their  inventive  pow- 
ers, they  have  reached.  It  is  almost 
irom  the  infancy  of  creation,  that  we 
discover  the  association  between  ar- 
chitectural pursuits — the  expansion  of 
intellect,  the  formation  of  the  social 
compact^  the  observance  of  philan- 
thropic dtiti^,  and  the  boundless  mu- 
nificence of  the  Supreme  Dispensator. 
H^re  then  may  we  truly  date  the  ori- 
gin of  our  noble  institution,  which 
must  be  considered  in  relation  to  the 
prosperity  of  man,  both  speculative 
and  operative ;  the  utility  of  each  is 
fabricated  on  the  substantial  ground- 
work of  aH  those  moral  excellencies, 
that  render  man  worthy  a  terrestrial 
existence^  and  acceptable  iu  the  sight 
of  him,  who  sits^upreme  in  glorified 
realms.  It  is  then  from  the  primeval 
state  of  society,  that  our  order  dis- 
played its  inseparable  attachment  to 
those  indispensable  labours,  that  im- 
proved the  condition  of  man,  and 
which  has  been  handed  down  from 
generation  to  generation  with  encreas- 
ing  ttsefohiess  and  manifest  improve- 

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2M 


lUSOMIC. 


The  connectioiv  between  operative 
aod  speculative  Masoory,  gradually 
unfolded  to  the  enUghlened,  new  scenes 
of  coi^emplation,  tending  to  exhibit 
the  infinite  works  o(  God,  and  his  a- 
buuJant  goodness  to  the  cliildren  of 
his  creation.  Here  mutual  dependen- 
ces were  first  established  :  here  a  gen- 
eral subserviency  to  worldly  concerns, 
incurred  a  moral  fitness,  only  com- 
mensurate with  divine  command ;  and 
here  man  was  taught  duly  to  appre- 
ciate those  qualifications  of  the  heart, 
that  make  us  ready  participants  in  the 
adversities  of  the  human  family. — 
The  analogy  of  our  order  with  .  the 
progressive  state  of  societyi  while  it 
establishes  its  antiquity,  discloses  its 
usefulness,  and  must  at  once  convince 
the  ignorant  in  our  principles^  tliat 
tkcy  stand  arrayed  in  traoscendant 
splendour,  shedding  a  vivifying  ray  9r 
like  to  all. 

From  the  remote  origin  of  our  in- 
stitution, which  we  now  perceive  may 
be  dated  from  the  Ancient  of  Days ; 
we  cannot  be  at  a  loss  to  conceive  the 
wide  range  and  multifarious  pursuits, 
embraced  in  the  duties  of  a  Mason. 
The  particular  objects  that  claim  the 
serious  cpnsidetation  of  every  bfofher, 
and  that  unfold  the  importance  of  his 
relative  duties,  we  shall  now  consider 
with  peculiar  concern. 

Unconnected  with  operative  Mason- 
ry  as  an  art,  speculative  Masonry  in 
contra  distinction  with  the  former, 
embraces  the  pursuit  of  all  laudable 
occupations,  that  can  in  the  least  exalt 
man,  and  render  him  worthy  his  no- 
ble destinies.  Charity,  benevolence, 
and  humanity,  constitute  the  most 
promineot  characteristics  of  a  Free 
Masouy  and  under  this  denomination, 
points  out  the  observance  of  those 
transceudant  qualities  of  our  species, 
that  must  at  once  excite  respect  and 
veneration :  and  as  these  principles 
are  inseparable  with  the  duties  of  a 
Mason,  thoy  disclose  the  magnitude  of 
our  ancient  and  honourable  fraternity. 

Can  the  niiud  conceive,  or  the 
tongue  delight  to  dwell  on  a  more  en- 


noblii^  aulject  tlma  the  dispensatioQ 
of  chanty  ?  Can  the  imagination,  di^ 
lating  beyond  the  bounds  of  ordinary 
excursions,  pause  to  contemplate  a 
niore  resplendent  duly  ?  Can  the  eye 
in  its  wanderings  through  the  fields  of 
creation,  be  engaged  in  surveying  a 
more  magnificent  object  than  the  hand 
of  charity  extended  for  the  relief  of  a 
fellow  being  ?  Can  human  nature, 
while  in  the  performance  of  a  sut^n- 
nary  pilgrimage,  and  while  careetinf 
through  the  eucbantment  of  a  worlds 
delight  to  engage  in  services  mote 
gratifying  and  beatific,  than  assuegtag 
the  turmoils  incidental  to  an  earthly 
abode  ?  Who  is  so  hardy,  so  insensi- 
ble to  the  finer  feelings  of  our  nature, 
as  to  place  in  com])etition  any  occupa- 
tion that  can  arrest  the  attention  and 
rouse  our  keenest  sensibilities  ?  Such 
indeed  are  the  tendencies,  and  such 
the  engagements  of  the  Masonic  char* 
acter.  1  know  nothing  morf  mag- 
nanimous, nothing  to  throw  a  glitter 
over  the  actions  of  mankind,  amiiist 
the  conflicts  of  this  world,  than  the 
magic  influence  of  benevolence.  It 
sheds  lustre  in  the  darkest  hour  of  ad- 
versity ;  it  elevates  man  above  all  oth- 
er beings  and  approximates  him  to 
divinity.  I  know  nothing  of  such 
overwhelming  influence,  as  the  conn 
miserating  smile — the  sojothing  ex- 
pression— the  melting  tones  of  dulcet 
alleviation.  I  know  nothing  of  such 
heavenly  interposition  as  the  oufc- 
stretched  arm  of  fostering  care.  It 
robs  pain  of  its  annoying  sting,  and 
^Ttez  joy  where  it  was  unknown  be<f 
fore.  It  invests  with  the  majesty  of 
divinity,  and  discloses  the  most  prooa* 
inen^  virtues.  I  know  nothing  more 
alluring  to  refinement,  than  the  exer- 
cise of  the  finer  feelings  of  the  heart, 
that  include  in  its  dictates^  universal 
charity.  But,  my  auditors,  the  excel* 
lence  of  Masonic  duties,  is  not  sole> 
ly  comprised  in  contributing  to  the 
wants  and  necessities  of  a  brother  $ 
they  extend  beyond  this,  and  are  fre- 
quently engaged  in  acts  of  more  per- 
advantage.   , 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MASOWIC. 


is^ 


It  is  not  the  tt^re  sintenaiice  afford- 
ed by  the  hand  of  charity,  that  we 
aloae  regard :  oo^  it  is  that  charity, 
which  gleams  with  enraptured  effal- 
geacc,  which  is  exercised  in  conceal- 
tf^)  rather  than  disclosing  the  foibles 
and  vices,  tlie  errors  and  inconsistent 
cies,  that  man^ncautiouslyencounters. 
It  is  that  charity,  which  actuates  to 
Ae  snpfiort  of  a  Brother  Mason's  cha- 
racter ;  to  remove  the  stains  that  dark- 
en his  reputation ;  and  to  support  him, 
in  every  acceptation  o£  the  terin,  by 
supporting  him  in  his  absence,  amidst 
the  load  of  opprobium  that  shall  be 
lieaped  upon  him,  to  debase  and  de- 
grade..   It  is  that  charity,  which  in 
the  most  friendly  and  affectionate  man- 
Ber,   points  out  improprieties  and  re- 
daims  from  offences.     It  is  that  char- 
ity, which  is  prompt  in  giving  salutary 
advice,  to  save  from  crimes  and  their 
atteodaDt  calamities.     It  is  that  chari- 
ty, which  prompts  to  the  information 
oi  impending  danger,  and  that  rescues 
from  wretchedness,  misery  and  des- 
truction.    It  is  that  charity,  which 
leads  the  indiscreet  brother  from  the . 
path  of  immorality,  and  that  presents 
\      to  his  view,  the  beauties  of  a  blessed 
^       immortality,  for  virtuous  deeds.    It  is 
that  charity,  which  is  ever  ready  in 
sof^eoing  savage  anger,  and  that  melts 
iato  composure  the  angry  elements  of 
wild  and  infuriated  passions,  that  too 
often  cause  us  to  run  counter  our  so- 
ber judgments,  and  heedlessly  to  com- 
mU  iodscretions,  when  it  is  too  late 
to  repent.     It  is  that  charity,  which 
excites  the  utmost  energy  of  soul,  in 
kind  admdnitions,  faithfully  adminis- 
'       tered  with  that  Brotherly  love,  which 
caimot  fail  of  restoring  to  the  world  a 
▼ahied  citizen,  to  the  Lodge  a  useful 
brother,  and  to  an  affectionate  family 
its  prop  and  stay.     It  is  that  charity, 
i^btcb,    disregarding    selfish    vl'^ws, 
luwws  no  fear,  but  the  fear  of  lacking 
power  in  the  deficiency  of  means  to 
gratify  the  impubive  feelings  of  a  phi- 
lasthropic  heart.     Nay,  it  is  that  cha- 
rity ,'which  pauses  not  to  consider  who 
38  the  object  of  relief^tbat  enquires 


not  whether  friend  or  foe,  are  invol- 
ved in  the  shackles  of  misfortune.— 
Such  charities  are  substantial,  and  such 
duties  inestimable.  This  is  indeed 
"  doing  onto  others,  as  we  would  they 
should  do  unto  us.'' 

The  duties  of  a  Mason,  are  only 
limited  by  those  boundaries,  which  are 
fixed  for  the  expansion  of  all  the  bright 
qualities  that  adorn  and  dignify  our 
nature.     They  are  not  even  circum- 
scribed by  time,  by  circumstance,  or 
by  death.     Our  affectionate  duties  ex- 
tend to  the  grave.      They  call  into 
action  the  keenest  emotions,  and  draw 
forth  the  latent  tear,  to  bedew  the  cheek 
of  fraternal  love.     They  are  as  essen- 
tial to  a  deceased  brother,  as  during  his 
existence.     The  performance  of  the 
funeral  rites,  not  only  remind  us  of  the 
present,  but  of  the  future.     They  not 
only  evince  our  attachment  to  each 
other  ill  life,  but  in  death ;  and  afford 
consolation  to  the  bereaved  relatives, 
that  none  are  carried  to  their  grave, 
unattended  and  unlamented ;  or  that  a 
sigh  should  be  wanting  to  add  solem- 
nity to  the  closing  scene.      TIus,  is 
considered  among  us,  an  imperious  du- 
ty, that  none  should  be  tardy  in  ob- 
^rving.     Does  it  not  bespeak  affec- 
tions of  the  most  endearing  cast  ? — 
does  it  not  excite  sensations  that  no 
language  can  sufficiently   express. — 
Need  I  repeat,  what  a  Mason  experi- 
ences on  such  occasions  ?     Have  we 
not  felt!  Oh,  sadly  felt!  the  anguish 
and  lacerations  of  the  finest  feelings, 
while  performing  the  last  melancholy 
duties,  and  while  pronouncing  the  re- 
quiem over  the  remains  of  many  much 
valued  friends  and  brothers?     Have 
we  not  with    alacrity   displayed  our 
brotherly  love,  in  accompanying  to 
the  silent  tomb,   many  worthy  and 
bright  Masons,   who  have   been  cut 
down  by  the  fell-destroyer,  during  our 
late  afflictive  and  calamitous  season  ? 
Can  I  look  round   and  not  discover 
the  absence  of  some  of  our  brightest 
ornaments  ?     Is  not  the  chasm  pro- 
duced, very  perceptible  ?     Shall  I  in 
vain  enquire,  where,  is  our  esteemed 

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286 


MASOitlC^ 


brother^  con8pi<iiioiis  for  bis  Masontc 
virtues  r  Where  b  our  valued  bro- 
ther, remarkable  for  his  Masonic  lore. 
Where  the  youthful  brother  of  pro- 
spective merit?  The  conviction  of 
their  present  abode  in  blissful  realms, 
involuntarily  urges  me  to  exclaim, 
They  are  with  their  God,  enjoying  the 
rich  reward  of  their  meritorious  ac- 
tions !  They  are  awaiting  our  pres- 
ence, in  that  Lodge,  ^<  not  made  with 
hands,  eternal  iq  the  heavens."  Who 
among  us  do  not  deeply  feel  the  force 
and  severity  of  our  loss,  that  has  de- 
prived us  of  many  worthy  brethren 
and  companions  ?  Let  roe  not  dwell 
long  on  this  subject ;  perhaps  in  the 
fervency  of  thought,  and  v^rmth  of 
expression,  I  may  incautiously  open 
wounds  but  just  cicatrised,  and.  that 
still  require  some  consolatory  applica- 
tion to  quiet  the  pains  of  remembrance. 
This  is  not  a  fit  occasion  to  speak  of 
the  merits  of  our. departed  fnends. — 
This  burst  of  feeling  you  will  pardon, 
U  is  but  a  passing  tribute  to  their 
;nemories.  Let  their  virtues  that  have 
^hone  conspicuous  while  gliding  down 
the  declivity  of  (ime,  meet  in  death 
|he  rewards  due  to  genuine  actions, 
^nd  dignified  pursuits.  Yet,  my  friends 
the  duties  of  a  Mason  does  not  close 
here ;  others  of  paramount  considera- 
tion claim  his  special  care  and  atten- 
tion. 1  mean  the  observance  of  all 
those  kind  offices  that  the  commise- 
ratiog  hand  of  a  brother,  is  wont  to 
bestow  on  a  Mason's  widow,  orphans, 
and  relatives.  What  more  estimable, 
than  to  pour  the  balm  of  comfort  in 
the  lacerated  bosom  of  the  bemoaning 
widow  ? — What  more  Grod-like,  than 
to  be  a  father  to  the  fatherless  ^  to 
watch  over  their  infant  cares,  and 
while  administering  to  their  wants,  in- 
stil those  sublime  precepts,  that  were 
inculcated  and  practised  by  their  pa- 
rent ? — What  more  exalting,  than  to 
extend  the  hand  of  charity  to  the  re- 
lief of  the  relative  of  a  departed  bro- 
ther ? — Who  can  conceive  a  more  en- 
nobling duty,  than  to  feed  the  hungry, 
clothe  the  na^ed,  wipe  the  tear  from 


the  furrow«d  cheek,  and  above  alUalm. 
the  tumultuous  bo«om  heaving  wittr 
sorrow  and  the  pangs  of  destitutioa. 
These  are  indeed  the  noblest  attributes 
of  a  good  Mason.  These  are  indeed^ 
inseparable  with  his  moral  and  sockil 
qualities.  These  are  indeed,  the  links 
in  that  chain  of  imperious  obUgatioos, 
that  bind  him  to  the  firatemity,  and 
that  make  him  distingui^ed  net  onlj 
in  the  estimation  of  bis  fellow  maa, 
but  in  the  approbatory  countenance  of 
his  Maker.  Widows  of  deceased  iiro» 
fliers— while  the  heart  bleeds,  and  all 
the  emotions  of  the  soul  are  roitted  by 
thy  tended  wailings,  that  asatti  the 
very  battlements  of  the  stoughtest  feel- 
ings; whilethylamentaltOBSythespoii* 
taneous  result  of  overflowing  grief,  and 
that  sadly  convey  the  anguish  thst  the 

{)ains  of  bereavement  have  exched, 
et  not  desperation  rest  on  the  nitttd^ 
vield  not  to  the  vacant  gaze  of  hope- 
less, hapless  relief.  Turn,  to  die  fra- 
ternity, expect  to  find  in  the  Masonic 
brother  of  your  lost  partner,  a  IKcaidy 
a.cpunsellor,  a  ready  and  willing  stay 
and  support  to  all  thy  cares,  to  idl  thy 
turmoiisf  It  is  his  duty  ta  admiaister 
to  thy  wants,  and  to  raise  thy  droop*- 
ing  spirits,  worn  down  by  afflictlaB.-— 
Orphans  of  deceased  brothers ! — thy 
swelling  bosoms  uoaccustomed  to  har- 
rassing  raisery-^tby  lender  minds,  es- 
trange to  affliction^  render  tAee  par- 
ticnkr  objects  of  sympathy.  Arrest 
the  tear  that  dims  the  sight,  and  look 
to  the  Masonic  Brother  of  thy  iameol- 
ed  parent.  It  is  his  duty  to  receiva 
and  protect  thy  infant  frame  from  the 
trammels  of  destitution,  and  the  wAaS^ 
meat  of  penury  and  want.  It  »  hk 
special  trust  to  clothe  thy  nakedaeti, 
appease  thy  hunger,  still  thy  laoieiita* 
tions,  and  rmr  thee  to  oaaturky  by  his 
fostering  band ;  to  instil  those  )nr»oi* 
pies  which  his  order  enjoins,  and  be 
rigidly  observant  of  all  that  oaa  &ak 
the  man  and  dignify  the  Mason*  SireS| 
howled  in  the  vortex  of  misfoitmBie, 
encircled  by  large  and  youthM  fami- 
lies, whose  infirmities  have  en^tiled 
the  utmost  indigence,  soieriiotthe  vi- 

Digitized  by  CjOOgle 


inAsamc, 


2%7 


par  dedpondence-to  koavr  on  thy  vi- 
lab;  tfainkBot  that  you  see  in  pro- 
apeetive,  your  helpless  family  a  prey 
taatarvation,  and  wanting  the  small 
pittonoe  that  can  hold  life  from  death ; 
coaaifler  not;  that  when  the  lamp  of 
life  shall  be  eztingutshedy  and  exhaus- 
ted natore  shall  return  to  whence  it 
sprang;  that  abjectness  and  the  cra- 
inngs  of  hunger  will  be  their  lot.  En* 
^  qnire  of  thy  Brother,  if  he  indeed  be 
atme  Mason,  toAat  Aetoot  poor  and 
fwuyfeif,  and  unMe  to  amst  him- 
jelf  ,  if  ha  asked  and  received  no  re- 
hrff  he  will  requh^  no  stronger  in- 
centive-4ie  will  surely  arrest  the  pro- 
cess of  the  tear,  and  while  it  rolls 
dovB  thy  venei-able  face,  ornaments 
tiiat  comitenance  over^shadowed  with 
^ooflB — he  will  minister  to  thy  dis- 
tresses, and  cause  thy  winter  sun 
whose  meridian  height  was  obscured 
by  the  mist  of  adv««ty,  to  shine  forth 
with  mild  and  cheering  rays,  and  at 
last  decline  In  a  serene  sky. 

From  such  resplendent  qualificar 
catiDns,  that  elevate  the  character,  and 
slafiBp  the  conduct  of  every  Mason, 
wh4»  can  for  a  moment  think  with 
levity  on  his  duties  ?  This  is  but  a 
faiot  sketch  of  the  true  distribution  of 
Maaomc  employment ;  and  in  this  out- 
line, I  ^1  to  memory  #hat  must  strike 
the  mind  with  pecu^  pleasure. 

The  virtues  of  the  heart,  are  insep- 
ajrably  embraced  in  the  duties  of  a 
Msaon.  Bfotherly  love  comprises  all 
that  can  enlighten  and  exalt  In  the 
catalogue  of  superior  acquirements  it 
stands  in  very  legible' characters.  In- 
doded  Ui  this,  is  undisguised  friend- 
sfaip ;  I  mean  not  that  friendship  which 
owes  its  birth  to  interested  views,  and 
dMt  sacrifices  int  egrity  and  honour 
lor  iu  support  and  strength.  No: 
Itfaaoaie  iirieadship  spurns  the  act  that 
doe?  not  emanate  from  the  heart,  and 
m  carried  t>y  the  crimson  stream, 
tlurough  evety  vdn  and  fibre.  With 
this  is  also  connected,  faith,  hope, 
ttnith,  justice,  mercy,  and  temperance. 
Tkeae  flULk?  the  Mason  truly  estima- 
bW.     Itiatbe exctUeace  of  theorder, 


to  move  within'  compass  of  propriety, 
and  on  the  square  of  probity.  He 
who  rules  his  conduct  by  equity,  need 
fear  no  danger,  for  the  Almighty  go- 
eth  with  iiim,  who  is  attentive  to  these 
divine  precepts;  all  moral  obligations 
being  essential  duties,  that  come  un- 
der the  denomination  of  Masonic. 

While  surveying  the  precious  orna- 
ments, that  adorn  the  republic  of  hu- 
man nature,  and  that  give  stability 
and  worth  to  the  duties  of  a  Mason ; 
how  natural  is  it  for  the  mind  to  rest 
on  such  models  of  superior  admira- 
tion. Female  pre-eminence,  in  the 
scale  of  Masonic  consideration,  should 
ever  preponderate;  and  at  no  time  are 
the  duties,  of  a  Mason  more  conspicu- 
ously great,  than  in  encouraging  the 
production  of  those  splendid  comisca- 
tions  of  tenderness  and  affection,  that 
illumine  the  dejected  hopes  of  the 
children  of  misfortune.  Inseparable 
then  with  the  duties  of  the  fraternity, 
is  an  unremitted  and  unlimited  rf  gard 
for  the  softer  sex,  who,  although  not 
admitted  to  the  benefits  and  mysteries 
of  our  order,  are  not  the  less  entitled 
to  its  dispensations.  They  should  at 
all  times  claim  the  protection  of  every 
brother,  because  in  them  we  perceive 
essential  objects  for  furthering  the 
grand  design  of  Masonic  principles, 
and  of  keeping  in  remembrance  the 
performance  of  all  those  kind  offices 
that  establish  the  Masonic  character. 
In  them  are  discovered  the  unexam- 
pled beamings  of  true  commiseration. 
In  their  association  may  be  found  those 
unrestrained,  uumanacled  precepts  that 
strongly  enforce  this  truth,  that  no 
station  or  employment  can  equal  the 
Masonic,  when  engaged  in  contribu- 
ting to  the  alleviation  of  human  mise- 
ry ;  for  which  purjwse  none  are  so  ef- 
ficient as  woman ;  and  it  is  from  this 
consideration,  thej  merit  the  attention 
of  every  Mason. 

After  this  brief  survey  of  those  du- 
ties which  must  be  discharged  with 
that  sincerity  of  heart,  which,  in  com- 
porting with  the  moral  fitness  of  things, 
stamp  the  intrioalc  worth  of  the  Mason ; 

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288 


MASONIC. 


after  this  imperfect  declination,  that 
no  adventitious  tints  of  art  can  portray 
or  embellish ;  who  can  for  a  moment 
consider  such  a  system,  and  such  at- 
tainments with  indifierence  and  con- 
tempt ?  who  can  now  contemplate  our 
order  as  a  mere  specious  form,  a  hy- 
pocritical sanctity  for  the  concealment 
of  fraud  and  dissipation — of  base  du- 
plicity and  odious  deception  ?  Are  the 
duties  of  a  Mason  nothing  but  naked 
ceremonies,  mantled  under  professions 
of  charity  to  allure  and  deceive  ?  Is 
this  a  semblance  without  the  reality— 
a  shadow  without  the  substance — emp- 
ty words,  used  to  prostitute  the  fairest 
intentions  under  plausible  pretexts? 
Confidently  may  I  hope,  none  within 
the  sound  of  my  voice,  can  disbelieve 
the  verity  of  our  declaration,  or  frown 
indisrnantly  on  OHr  institution. 

Brethren  and  Companions:  I  can- 
not descend  from  the  station  assigned 
me,  without  expressihg  my  satisfac- 
tion in  observing  the  present  celebrity 
and  weight  of  character  our  order  has 
acquired,  in  being  countenanced  by 
thc^ea^  Rnd  goody  and  the  rapid  dis- 
persion of  that  prejudice  and  opposi- 
tion which  have  l)een  manifested  by 
the  ignorant  and  unenlightened.  The 
extension  of  our  attributes;  the  disse- 
mination of  our  principles ;  the  pro- 
motion of  human  happiness,  and  the 
interest  evinced  for  the  fraternity  ;  all 
conspire  to  cement  us  more  firmly  in 
the  great  work  we  are  bound  to  pur- 
sue. Notwithstanding  our  imperious 
observance  of  those  secret  principles, 
we  are  solemnly  pledged  to  keep  and 
treasure  in  our  bosoms ;  not  withstand-, 
ing  the  imposing  measures  and  coer- 
sive  means  used  for  the  violation  of 
our  sacred  trust,  we  still  remain  em- 
blems of  unshaken  fidelity,  presenting  I 
to  the  world  the  brilliant  example  of 
inflexible  adherence  to  those  intrinsic 
and  exalted  virtues,  that  are  not  to  be 
obtained  but  by  those  of  proper  qua- 
lifications and  of  good  report. 

The  beauties  of  the  Masonic  cha- 
racter must  daily  appear  to  you  with 
increasing  lustre,  becaifie  our  duties 


are  not  only  engaged  in  rendering  tnir  ' 
selves  happy,  t>ut  in  bestowing  happi* 
ness  on  others:  and  amiclst  all  the 
splendour  that  vaulting  ambition  can 
obtain;  the  virtuous  actions  of  a  Ma- 
son, appear  peculiarly  conspicuoas, 
and  are  achievements  of  renown  of 
more  than  adamantine  durability,  that 
sheds  around  a  halo  of  glory,  that 
nothing  can  obscure  or  remove. 

The  universal  prevalence  of  yo«r 
relative  dutie? ;  your  ready  co-opera- 
tion in  the  grand  work,  which,  hi 
maintaining  the  rights  and  privil^es 
guaranteed  to  iis  under  all  forms  of 
governments,  and  even  in  times  of 
bigotry  and  oppression,  which  secures 
the  perpetuation  of  our  noble  institti- 
tion^-^nd  the  boundless  expansion  of 
our  order,  which  continues  in  opera- 
tion with  zeal  and  undeviating  aaer* 
gy ;  are  harbingers  of  that  jaccordance 
with  divine  pleasure,  that  must  make 
you  rise  superior  in  the  estimation  of 
the  world ;  and  under  the  munificence 
of  the  Supreme  Architect  of  the  Uni- 
verse, secure  for  you  the  rewards  due 
to  genuine  charity  and  meritorioas 
actions.  So  shall  you,  while  gUdiog 
down  the  stream  of  life,  meet  m  death, 
the  commendations  of  thousands  ;  and 
in  the  world  to  come,  life  etemaL 

Permit  me  tb  repeat  to  you,  the 
words  of  an  inspired  Brother.  "  Be 
assured,"  said  he,  ^*  the  reward  of  a 
good  Mason,  is .  not  only  inestiroaUe, ' 
but  commensurate  with  eternity  it- 
self." 

**  The  stars  shall  fadei  the  saa's  broad  beams 

expire, 
Creation  sink  on  natare's  funeral  pyre ; 
But  virtue's  gifts,  unfading  shall  endure. 
When  skies,  and  stars,  and  sun's  shall  be 

DO  more." 


From  th$  WasMngten  Cky  GaxtUe  ^  F^ 
17,  1821. 
OBITUARY. 
Died,  on  Friday  afternoon,  at  km 

o'clock,  ALBXANDBRM'CoBMICKyE^. 

of  this  city,  aged  aboot  47  years.  Those 
who  kaew  him  will  bear  testioioajr  to 
his beoev.c^Bt  di8poattioiL,and his uae- 

Jigitized  by  VjOOQ IC 


MAsomc. 


289 


i;  to  his  fidelity  in  friendship, 
and  all  tke  relations  of  life ;  to  his  en- 
terprise as  a  naerchanty  and  to  that  un- 
SQSpecting  confidence  which  feels  no 
goiie  WithiBy  and  dreads  none  without, 
His  goodness  laid  him  bare  to  the  blasts 
of  adversity ;  when  he  did  not  receive 
on  the  turn  of  the  wheel  all  that  gene- 
rosity  or  justice,  which  he  had  been  so 
prompt  to  bestow.  Mr.  M^Corniick 
had  ^ed  various  civil  offices,  to  which 
be  was  called  by  the  yoice  of  his  fel- 
low citizens.  He  has  left  a  numerous 
(usily  to  lament  his  loss. 

His  friends  are  requested  to  attend 
his  Ameral,  at  10  o'clock  to-morrow 
■orniogy  the  18th  instant,  from  his 
hie  retidence,  on  Capitol  Hill. 

•  MASONIC  NOTICE. 

The  officers  and  brethren  of  the  re- 
spective lodges  of  the  District  of  Co- 
kmbia,  and  the  brethren  generally,  in 
the  city,  are  requested  to  meet  at  the 
Grand  Lodge  room,  to-morrow  raom- 
mg,  the  18th  instant,  at  10  o'clock, 
to  attend  the  funeral  procession  of  our 
late  brother  Alexander  M^Cormick. 

Fiom  the  same,  of  Feb.  24. 
LOCAL. 

NoCfamg  bo^the  justness  of  the  re- 
bake  that  foHows,  and  the  manly  and 
degaiit  tem#  in  which  it  is  couched, 
iodyoes  its  insertion  so  unseasonably, 
ft  ooght  to  have  appeared  on  Monday 
fast;  but  imcontrolable  circumstances 
have  delayed  it  until  Saturday. 

For  the  WashlngtoD  Grazette. 
To  the  worshipful  master,  subordinate 
officers,  and  brethren  of  lodge  No.  1, 
io  tbe  City  of  Washington,  d.  c. 

Am  m  peacefiil  sojoomer  came  I  a^ 
BMW  yoo;  I  learned  that  the  spirit  of 
the  wustrioas  Hiram  rested  with  you, 
aad  tbe  incense  of  fraternal  love  arose 
mamfci  perfiimes  from  your  conse- 
^StftBd  «Uar8.  My  soul  swelled  with 
ifcaiidiBii  emotion  of  brotherly  com- 
and  1  hailed  with  -pleasing 
.  tbe  hour  which  should  con> 


No 


summate  my  felicity  within  the  sacred 
walls  of  your  lodge.  My  dreams  were 
idle ;  my  hopes  vain  and  illusory.  A 
cloud  arose  iu  the  west,  and  tlie  hori- 
zon was  overcast  with  a  desponding 
gloom:  It  was  the  dark  and  awful 
cloud  of  death ;  it  stretched  its  sable 
terrors  far  abroad,  and  rudely  mocked 
the  fears  it  had  created  in  the  minds 
of  victims  yet  un^^ought :  It  reached 
the  portals  of  your  temple ;  no  bars, 
or  bohs,or  armed  tykrs, could  impede 
its  dreadful  course;  it  rolled  to  the 
Last ;  your  w  orshit^ful  past  master  saw 
the  approach  of  this  exterminating  dse- 
raon,  and  the  awful  forebodings  of  his 
soul  betrayed  the  victim  of  its  ire.  At 
this  solitary  moment  he  might  have 
sunk  in  agonies  of  despair,  but  the 
friendly  star  of  Bethlehem  shone  in 
radiant  splendour  through  an  aperture 
of  the  clouii,  and  the  Hnger  oif  hope 
pointed  the  wandering  eye  to  the  fields 
of  paradise  above.  Already  did  the 
vengeful  enemy  shake  his 'missile  wea- 
pon over  his  devoted  victim,  and  the 
ia*;t  a^^mies  were  anticipated  by  sur- 
rounding friends :  the  storm  for  a  mo- 
ment rested  on  clernily's  dark  brink; 
from  the  dread  verge  he  turned,  one 
sad  and  lingering  look  he  gave,  and 
gently  whispered  his  last  poor  wisih— 
''  That  his  companions  and  brethren 
might  consummate  his  worldly  destiny 
with  the  honours  of  Free  Masonry.'' 
It  was  the  last  sad  wish  of  him,  wliose 
name  stands  foremost  on  the  honour- 
able archives  of  the  order :  the  blow 
is  struck !  the  work  is  done !  his  spirit 
has  returned  to  God  who  gave  it.  I 
heard  the  solemn  dirge!  the  funeral 
procession  moved  on,  and  the  body  of 
ALEXANl>Ea  ♦•**♦♦•*,  was  deposited 
in  the  peaceful  folds  of  its  parent 
earth.  The  deep  drawn  sij^h  of  wid- 
owed constancy  wafted  his  long-loved 
name  to  the  mercy-seat  above.  The 
hallowed  teur  of  orphanage  watered 
the  so<i  which  rests  upon  his  manly 
bosom,  and  his  tomb  uas  markecj  by 
a  countless  throng  of  weeping  fri-  nds. 
Ail,  all  were  alivel  to  the  rcniem- 


290 


MASONIC. 


alone,  the  languid  flame  which  glim- 
mers with  sickJy  hue  in  the  cold  ave- 
nues of  Masonic  hearts.  Where  is 
the  brother's  hand  to  lay  him  on  his 
peaceful  bed  ?  Where  the  emblems  of 
his  former  power?  And  where  the 
sprig  of  cassia  which  is  to  flourish,  in 
immortal  green,  over  his  consecrated 
dust  ?  I  hear  no  companion's  bene- 
diction at  the  grave  I  The  astonished 
senses  seek  in  vain  the  swpet  savour 
of  incense  which  should  be  ofiered  at 
the  shrine  of  departed  worth ;  and  the 
genius  of  Masonry,  in  sorrowing  si- 
lence, weeps  the  cold  apathy  which 
rests  upon  her  votaries  here.  Com- 
panions and  brethren;  ye  heard  his 
last  request,  and  how  could  ye  forego 
the  imperious  duty  ye  owe  to  the 
manes  of  a  departed  friend,  a  iDorthy 
mastery  an  exalted  Mason,  a  most  ea>- 
cellent  past  high  priest?  In  what 
rode  quarry  sleeps  the  conscience  of 
your  present  master,  that  the  expiring 
calls  of  a  past  superior  cannot  call  it 
forth  ?  In  what  lonely  dell  Iiave  you 
buried  the  sweet  sympathies  of  our 
celestial  order,  thiait  the  trembling 
voice  of  a  dying  chieftain  cannot  woo 
thera  ?  *  Turn  to  those  altars,  where, 
on  the  bended  knee  of  adoration  you 
have  sworn,  and  recollect  that  each 
sentence,  as  it  escaped  your  lips,  was 
wafted  to  the  mansions  above,  and  en- 
graven on  imperishable  tablets  by  the 
recording  angeUof  Heaven.  E^ch  ra- 
diant orb,  which  sheds  its  benignant 
lustre  in  the  consecrated  firmament, 
bears  witness  to  your  mutual  obliga- 
tions as  Masons,  and  as  Christicuis. 
flow  could  you  then  remain  unmoved 
by  this  last  request  ?  Has  he  been  lost 
in  the  mazes  of  a  misguided  fancy, 
or  sunk  for  a  moment  beneath  the 
weight  of  human  error  ?  Remember ! 
O  remember,  that  indiscretien  in  him, 
should  not  destroy  humanity  in  you  ! 

But  enough:  he  has  escaped  the 
corrupted  currents  of  human  nature, 
and  reposes  in  the  silent  court  of  death, 
waiting  the  mandate  of  our  Heavenly 
Grand  Master)  to  appear  at  the  open- , 
ing  of  the  celestial  lodge  on  high, 


where  may  we  all  appear  arrayed  in 
the  robes  of  righteousness  and  truihf 
I  address  you  in  The  perfect  bond  of 
unity  and  peace,  and  in  behalf  of  the 
universal  fraternity  of  ChristiA  Ma- 
sons, and  warn  you  to  leave  the  sacred 
mysteries  untarnished,  and  render  un- 
to Caesar  the  things  which  are  Cassar's. 
Accept,  brethren,  the  good  will  of  one 
who  has  travelled  and  not  been  weary, 
and  who  counteth  all  things  as  nothing 

without  CHAKITY. 


FELLOW  CRAFT'S  DEGREE.- 
On  this  degree,  Mr.  Preston  ob- 
serves, "Masonry  is  a  progressive 
science,  and  is  divided  into  diflferent 
classes  or  degrees,  for  the  more  regu- 
lar  advancement  in  the  knowledge  of 
its  mysteries.  According  to  the  pro- 
gress we  make,  we  limit  or  extend  our 
iffqniries;  and  in  proportion  to  oar 
capacity,  we  attain  to  a  less  or  greater 
degree  of  perfection. 

"Masonry  includes  almost  erery 
branch  of  polite  learning  under  the 
veil  of  its  mysteries,  which  compre- 
hend a  regular  system  of  science.  Ma- 
ny of  its  illustrations  may  appear  un- 
important to  the  confined  genius  ;  but 
the  man  of  more-  enUurged  faculties 
will  consider  them  in  the  fa^beat  de- 
gree useful  and  interestHg.  To  please 
the  accomplished  scfaohir  and  iog^eni- 
ous  artist,  the  institution  is  wisely 
planned ;  and  in  the  investigation  of  its 
latent  doctrines,  the  philosopher  and 
mathematician  experience  equal  satis- 
faction and  delight. 

"  To  exhaust  the  various  subjects 
of  which  Masonry  treats,  would  trans- 
cend the  powers  of  tlie  brightest  ge- 
nius ;  still,  however,  nearer  apptoach^ 
es  to  peHectioa  may  be  made,  and  the 
4naQ  of  wisdom  will  not  check  the  pro^ 
pess  of  his  abilities,  though  the  task; 
he  attempts  may  not  seem  insurooonfe* 
able.  Perseverance  and  application 
will  remove  each  difficulty  tt»sr  __ 
curs;  every  Hep  he  advances,  q^^ 
pleasure  will  open  to  his  view, 
ifldtruction  of  the  ^noblest  kmd  att« 


Jigitized  t 


'gt 


MAsomc. 


291 


his  researches.  In  the  dtligeot  par- 
Klit  of  knowledge,  great  discoveries 
are  made,  and  thelntellectual  faeuhies 
ire  wisely  employed  in  promoting  the 
glory  of  God,  and  the  good  of  man. 

**  Such  is  the  tendency  of  every  il- 
kistratioo  in  Masonry.  Reverence  for 
the  Deky,  and  gratitude  for  the  bless- 
ings of  Heaven,  are  inculcated  in  every 
degree.  This  is  the  plan  of  our  sys- 
tem,  mid  the  result  of  all  our  inquiries. 

^  The  first  degree  is  intended  to  en- 
force tlie  duties  of  morality,  and  im- 
print on  the  memory  the  noblest  prin- 
ciples which  can  adorn  the  human 
mind.  The  second  degree  extends 
the  same  plan,  and  comprehends  a 
more  diffusive  system  of  knowledge. 
Practice  and  theory  qualify  the  indus- 
trious Mason  to  share  the  pleasures 
which  an  advancement  in  the  art  ne- 
cessarily affords.  Listening  with  at- 
tentioo  to  the  wise  opinions  of  expe- 
rienced craftsmen  on  important  sub- 
jects, his  mind  is  gradually  familiarised 
to  useful  instruction,  and  be  is  soon 
enabled  to  investigate  truths  of  the  ut- 
most concern  in  Uie  general  transac- 
tions of  life. 

^  From  this  system  proceeds  a  ra- 
tional amusement;  while  the  mental 
powers  are  fully  employed,  the  judg^ 
ment  is  properly  exercised.  A  spirit 
of  ^nulation  prevails;  and  every  bro- 
ther vies,  who  shall  most  excel  in  pro- 
moting the  valuable  rules  of  the  in- 
stitution.^' 

THE  SECOND  LECTURE. 

THE  FIRST  SECTION 

Of  the  second  decree,  ^<  elucidates 
the  mode  of  introduction  into  this  class; 
and  instructs  the  diligent  craftsman 
how  to  proceed  in  the  proper  arrange- 
ment oif  the  ceremonies  which  are 
used  on  that  occasion,  while  it  enables 
him  to  judge  of  their  importance,  and 
convinces  him  of  the  necessity  of  ad- 
hering to  all  the  established  usages  of 
theonler.  Here  he  is  entrusted  with 
particular  tests,  to  prove  his  title  to  the 
privileges  of  this  degree,  and  satbfac- 
tory  reasons  are  given  for  their  origin. 


Many  duties  which  eement  in  the  firm- 
est union  the  well-informed  brethren, 
are  illustrated ;  and  an  opportunity  is 
given  to  make  such  advances  in  the 
art  as  must  always  disttngubh  the  abi- 
lities of  the  able  craftsman. 

"  This  section,  besides  the  ceremo- 
ny of  initiation  into  the  second  degree, 
contains  many  important  particulars, 
with  which  no  officer  of  the  lodge 
should  be  unacquainted.'^ 

Charge  at  Initiation  into  the  Second 

Degree, 
"  Brother, 

^  Being  advanced  to  the  second  de- 
gree, we  congratulate  you  on  vour  pre- 
ferment. The  internal,  and  not  the 
external,  qualifications  of  a  man,  are 
what  IVlasonry  regards.  As  you  in- 
crease in  knowledge,  you  will  consc*- 
quently  improve  in  social  intercourse. 

'^  It  is  unnecessary  to  recapitulate 
the  duties  which^  as  a  Mason,  you  are 
now  bound  to  discharge ;  or  enlarge 
on  the  necessity  of  a  strict  adherence 
to  them,  as  your  own  experience  must 
have  established  their  value.  It  may 
be  sufficient  to  observe,  that  your  past 
behaviour  and  regular  deportment 
have  merited  the  honour  which  we 
have  conferred ;  and  in  your  new  cha- 
racter, it  is  expected  that  you  will  not 
only  conform  to  the  principles  of  the 
order,  but  steadily  persevere  in  the 
practice  of  every  commendable  virtue. 

"  The  study  of  the  liberal  arts,  that 
valuable  branch  of  education,  which 
tends  so  effectually  to  polish  and  adorn 
the  mind,  is  earnestly  recommended 
to  your  consideratiou;  especially  the 
science  of  geometry,  which  is  estab- 
lished as  the  basis  of  our  art.  Geom- 
etry, or  Masonry,  originally  synony- 
mous terms,  is  of  a  divine  and  moral 
nature,  and  enriched  with  the  most 
useful  knowledge ;  while  it  proves  the 
wonderful  properties  of  nature,  it  de- 
monstrates the  more  important  truths 
of  morality. 

"  As  the  solemnity  of  our  ceremo- 
uies  requires  a  serious  deportment, 
you  are  to  be  particularly  attentive  to 

•^  Digitized  by  Google 


^m 


MASONIC. 


your  behaviour  in  our  regular  assem- 
blies; you  are  to  preserve  our  ancient 
usages  and  customs  sa  credand  invio- 
lable ;  and  induce  others,  by  your  ex- 
ample, to  hold  them  in  due  veneration. 

"The  la¥^  and  regulations  of  the 
order  you  are  strenuously  to  support 
and  maintain.  You  are  not  to  palli- 
ate or  aggravate  the  offences  of  your 
brethren;  but,  in  decision  of  every 
trespass  against  our  rules,  judge  with 
candour,  admonish  with  friendship, 
and  reprehend  with  justice. 

"  As  a  craftsman,  in  our  private  as- 
semblies, you  may  ofler  your  senti- 
ments and  opinions  on  such  subjects 
as  are  regularly  introduced  in  the  lec- 
ture. By  this  privilege  you  may  im- 
prove your  intellectual  powers;  qua- 
lify yourself  to  become  an  useful  mem- 
ber of  society ;  and  like  a  skilful  bro- 
ther, strive  to  excel  in  every  thing 
that  is  good  and  great. 

"  All  regular  signs  fmd  summonses, 
given  and  received,  you  are  duly  to 
honour,  and  punctually  to  obey ;  inas- 
much as  they  consist  with  our  pro- 
fessed principles.  You  are  to  supply 
the  wants,  and  relieve  the  necessities 
o(  your  brethren  and  fellows,  to  the 
utmost  of  your  power  and  abilities ; 
you  are  on  no  account  to  wrong  them, 
uor  see  thera  wronged;  but  apprise 
them  of  approaching  danger,  and  view 
their  interest  as  inseparable  from  your 
own. 

"  Such  is  the  nature  of  your  engage- 
ments as  a  craftsman ;  and  to  these  du- 
ties you  are  now  bound  by  the  most 
sacred  ties.'' 

THE  SECOND  SECTION 

To  this  degree,  "presents  an  ample 
field  for  the^nian  of  genius  to  perambu- 
late. It  cursorily  specifies  the  parti- 
cular classes  of  the  order,  and  explains 
the  requisite  qualifications  for  prefer- 
n^nt  in  each.  In  the  explanation  of 
our  usages,  many  renmrks  are  intro- 
duced, equally  useful  to  the  expe- 
rienced artist,  and  the  sage  moralist. 
The  various  operations  of  the  mind 
are  demonstrated,  as  far  as  they  will 


admit  of  eluctcfotiofi,  and  a  fbml  of 
extensive  science  is  explored  through* 
out.  Here  we  find  employment  for 
leisure  hours,  trace  science  from  its 
original  source,  and  drawing  the  at^ 
tention  to  the  sum  of  perfectioe, 
contemplate  with  admiratioo  on  die 
wonderful  works  of  the  Creator. .  Ge- 
ometry is  displayed,  with  all  its  pow- 
ers and  properties ;  and  in  the  disqm- 
sition  of  this  valuable  science,  the 
mind  is  filled  with  rapture  and  delight. 
Such  is  the  latitude  of  this  section,  that 
the  most  judicious  have  fkiled  in  an 
attempt  to  explain  it,  as  the  rational 
powers  are  exerted  to  their  Utmost 
stretch,  in  illustrating  the  beauties  of 
nature,  and  demonstrating  the  more 
important  truths  of  morality.'' 

The  time  of  life  is  the  only  time 
wherein  we  can  prepare  for  another 
world:  and  oh!  how  short  and  un- 
certain is  this  time  I  Hovr  frail  aod 
uncertain  is  the  life  of  man !  What 
multitudes  does  death  surprise  in  an 
hour,  when  they  think  nothing  of  it! 
How  silently  and  insensibly  does  time 
slide  aw^y ;  with  what  a  winged  swift- 
ness does  it  fly,  and  we  cannot  stay 
its  progress,  stop  its  course,  or  retard 
its  hasty  motion. 

GRAND  CHAPTER  OF  KENTUCKY. 
At  a  grand  communication  of  the 
grand  royal  arch  chapter  of  the  state 
of  Kentucky,  held  at  Frankfort  io 
January  last,  the  following  most  ex- 
cellent companions,  were  duly  elected 
to  the  offices  annexed  to  their  resipect- 
ive  names,  for  the  present  year : 

David  Graham  CoiyAN,  of  Dan- 
ville, grand  high  priest. 

WlLLIA-M   GiBBES   HuNT,  of    LeX- 

ington,  deputy  grand  high  priest. 

James  Birney,  of  Danville,  grand 
king. 

William  Bell,  of  Sbelbyville, 
grand  scribe. 

John  Huntingi>on  Crane^  of  Lou- 
isville, grand  secretary. . 

WiNGFiBLD  BdllocK;  of  Shelby- 
ville,  gnmd  treasureroogle 


\ 


MASONIC. 


79S 


B0V.  Cbablbs  Crawforv,  oi  Shel- 
by eouDty,  and  Rev.  Nathan  H. 
OAhLy  of  Soringfield,  grand  chaplains. 

HsNRT  WiNOATKi  of  Fraokfort, 
grand  master. 

John  C.  Wbnzbjj,  of  Louisville,  G. 
C.  G% 

JKiNois  RBTNOLDkSy  of  Frankfort, 
grand  secretary. ' 

Howard  S,  Colbman',  of  Frank* 
fort,  grand  tyler. 

A  warrant  of  dispensation  was  grant- 
ed, authorising  a  royal  arch  chapter, 
|o  be  opened  and  held  in  the  town  of 
Versailles,  to  be  known  by  the  name 
of  Webb  Chapter,  and  companion 
Thomas  P.  Hart  was  appointed  Most 
EjLcellent  High  Priest;  companion  Wil- 
liam Blackburn^Most  Excellent  King, 
and  companion  John  M'Kenney,  jun. 
Most  Excellent  Scribe. 

It  was  unanimously  resolved,  that 
the  future  annual  communications  of 
this  grand  chapter,  while  held  at 
Frankfort;  should  commence  on  the 
first  Monday  in  December  every  year. 

Mew  Castle  Mark  Lodge,  No.  1, 
siinrei^dered  its  charter  to  the  grand 
cha£ter. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  the  seve- 
ral subordinate  chapters  under  the  ju- 
risdiction of  this  grand  chapter. 

LEXINGTON  CHAPTER,  NO.  1. 

William  Gibbes  Hunt,  high  priest. 

James  G.  Trotter,  king. 

Bernard  Metcalf,  scritiMe. 

Richard  B.  Parker,  captidn  of  the 
host. 

Caleb  W.  Cloud,  principal  sojour- 
ner. 

Robert  M^itt,  royal  arch  captain. 

James  M.  Pike,  third  grand  master. 

David  A.  Sajre,  second  grand  mas- 
ter. 

Benjamin  Keiser,  first  grand  master. 

William  H.  Rainey,  secretary. 

James  Graves,  treasurer. 

Francb  Walker,  steward  and  tyler. 

Pcut  high  priests. — John  Tilford, 
William  G.  Hunt,  Caleb  W.  Cloud, 
Thomas  P.  Hart. 

Stated  meetings  at  Lexington  the 
last  Monday  in  every  montlL 


SHELBTTILLE  CHAPTER,  NO.  ^ 

James  Bradshaw,  high  priest. 

William  Bell,  king. 

Joseph  W.  Knight,  scribe. 

James  Moore,  principal  sojonmer. 

John  Willett,  royal  arch  captain. 

Wingfield  Bullock,  third  grand  mas- 
ter. 

John  Scott,  second  grand  master. 

Benjamin  F.  Dupuy,  first  grand 
master* 

John  Bull,  secretary. 

John  Bradshaw,  treasurer. 

William  J.  Tunstall,  steward  and 
tyler. 

Stated  meetings  on  the  second  Moo- 
day  in  every  month. 


FRANKFORT  CHAPTER,  NO.  9. 

Oliver  G.  Wac^ner,  high  priest. 

Alexander  J.  Mitchell,  king. 

Thomas  N.  Loofborough,  scribe. 

John  Woods,  captain  of  the  host. 

Henry  Wingate,  principal  sojourn- 
er. 

Mann  Butler,  royal  arch  captain. 

Edward  S.  Coleman,  third  grand 
master. 

Samuel  B.  Crockett,  second  grand 
master. 

Harry  I.  Thornton,  first  grand  mas- 
ter. 

Benjamin  Hensley,  secretary. 

Chapman  Coleman,  Treasurer. 

Littleberry  Batchelor,  C.  G. 

Francis  Reynolds,  steward  and  ty- 
ler. 

Feat  high  priest — George  M .  Bibb. 

Stated  Meetings  the  fouith  Monday 
of  every  month. 


DANVILLE  CHAPTER,  NO.  4. 
David  Graham  Cowan,  high  priest. 
James  Bimey,  king. 
Benjamin  F.  Pleasants,  scribe. 
Philip  Yeiser,  junior,  captain  of  the 
host. 

M.  Hope,  royal  arch  captain. 
Robert  Russell,  third  grand  master. 
D.  A.  Russell,  second  grand  master. 
John  Yeiser,  first  grand  master. 


tl94. 


MASONIC 


A 


A.  J.  Caldwell,  capt.  G; 

B.  H.  Perkins,  treasurer. 
William  E .  Warren,  secreAry. 
Stated  Meetings  third    Saturday  in 

every  month. 

LOUISVILLE  CHAPTER,  NO.  6. 

Edward  Tyler,  jun.  high  priest. 

George  R.  C.  Floyd,  kJng.i 

John  Sutton,  scribe. 

John  Trott,  captain  of  the  host. 

Temple  Gwathmey,  principal  so- 
journer. 

Henry  Waltz,  royal  arch*  captain. 

Willianf  Munday,  third  grand  mas- 
ter. 

Norbome  B.  Bcall,  second  grand 
master. 

James  L.  Bogart,  first  grand  mas- 
ter, 

E.  T.  Bainbridge,  secretary. 

William  Ferguson,  treasurer. 

William  F.  Pratt,  C.  G. 

Coleman  Daniel,  tyler. 

William  Ferguson,  steward. 

Past  high  priests. — Richard  Fer- 
guson and  Francis  Taylor. 

Stated  Meetings  the  last  Monday  in 
every  month. 

MAYSVILLE  MARK  LODGE,  NO.  2. 
William"  B.  Phillips,  master. 

C.  B.  Shepherd,  senior  warden. 
Andrew  Crookshanks,  junior  war- 
den. 

John  W.  LilUston,  treasurer. 
Lowroan  L.  Hawes,  secretary. 
John  M.  Morton,  C.  O. 
Wilson  Cobum,  S.  O. 
Andrew  M.  January,  J.  O. 
James  Powers,  steward  and  tyler. 
Stated  meetings  (irst  and  third  Sa- 
turdays in  every  month. 


To  the  Editor  of  the  Masonic  RegiMer. 

The  inclosed  valuable  Masonic  doc- 
ument, is  sent  bv  a  brother  and  well 
wisher,  who  thinks  that  it  ought  to  be 
re-published,  for  preservation,  in  your 
Masonic  Register;  and  will  at  the 


same  time  come  ej^trsmely  a  propm 
for  the  serious  consideration  of  the 
reverend  synod  at  Pittsburgh. 

A  little  mure  Masoais  matter  every 
month,  would  no  doubt  please  the 
majority  of  your  subscribers. 

ACT  OF    THE    ASSOCIATE .  S^|pD, 
COXCERNINO   TUtf' MASON  OATH. 

First  publiihed  in  the  Scots  Magazine)  for 
Au^mit  1757. 
Edinburgh,  ^thJlug.  1757. 

Whereas  an  oath  is  one  of  the  inost 
solemn  acts  of  religious  worship,  which 
ought  to  be  taken  only  upon  impor- 
ant  and  necessary  occasions ;  and  to 
be  sworn  in  tnith^  in  judgment,  and  in 
righteousness,  without  any  mixture  of 
sinful,  profane,  or  superstitious  devi- 
ces:— 

And  whereas,  the  synod  had  laid 
before  them,  in  their  meeting  at  Stir- 
ling, on  the  7th  March,  1/45,  an  over^ 
ture  concerning  the  Masonic  oath, 
bearing,  That  there  were  very  strong 
presumptions,  that  among  Masons  an 
oath  of  secrecy  is  administered  to  en- 
trants into  their  society,  even  noder  a 
capita]  penalty,  and  before  any  of  those 
things  which  they  swear  to  keep  se- 
cret be  revealed  to  them;  and  that 
they  pretend  to  take  some  of  these  se- 
crets from  the  Bible;  besides  other 
things,  which  are  ground  of  scruple,  in 
the  manner  of  swearing  the  said  oath ; 
and  therefore  overturing,  that  the  sy- 
nod would  consider  the  whole  afiair, 
and  give  directions  with  respect  to  the 
admission  of  persons  engaged  in  that 
oath  to  sealing  ordinances : — 

And  whereas,  the  synod,  in  their 
meeting  at  Stirling,  on  the  26th  of 
September  1745,  remitted  the  over- 
ture concerning  the  Mason  oath,  to  the 
several  sessions  subordinate  to  them, 
for  their  proceeding  therein,  as  far  as 
they  should  find  practicable,  accord- 
ing to  our  received  and  known  princi- 
ples, and  the  plain  rules  of  the  Lord'i 
word,  and  sound  reason : — 

And  whereas,  the  synod,  in  their 
meeting  at  Edinburgh,  on  the  6th  of 
March  I755y  when  a^particular  cause 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


\ 


MASONIC. 


395 


^iKHit  the  Mason  oath  was  before 
them,  did  appoint  all  the  sessions  un- 
der their  inspection,  to  require  all  per- 
sons 10  their  respective  congregations, 
who  are  presumed  or  suspected  to 
have  been  engaged  in  that  oath,  to 
make  9  plain  acknowledgment,  whe- 
ther or  not  they  have  ever  been  so ; 
and  to  require  that  such  as  they  may 
find  to  have  been  engaged  therein, 
should  give  ingenuous  answers  to  what 
further  inqunrtes  the  sessions  may  see 
cause  to  make,  concerning  the  tenor 
and  administration  of  the  said  oath  to 
them ;  and  that  the  sessions  should  pro- 
ceed to  the  purging  of  what  scandal 
they  may  thus  find  those  persons  con- 
victed of^  according  to  the  directions 
of  the  aboyenieotioned  act  of  Synod, 
in  September  1745. 

And  whereas,  the  generality  of  the 
sessions  have,  since  the  aforemention-. 
ed  periods,  dealt  with  several  persons 
under  their  inspection  about  the  Ma- 
son oath ;  in  the  course  of  which  pro- 
cedure, by  the  confessions  made  to 
tijero,  they  have  found  others,  beside 
those  of  the  Mason  craft,  to  be  involv- 
ed in  that  oath :  and  the  synod,  find- 
ing it  proper  and  necessary  to  give 
more  particular  directions  to  the  seve- 
ral sessions,  for  having  the  heinous 
profanation  of  the  Lord's  name  by  that 
oath,  purged  out  of  all  the  congrega- 
tions under  their  inspection :  There- 
fore,  the  synod  did,  and  hereby  do  ap- 
point, that  the  several  sessions  subor- 
dinate to  them,  in  dealing  with  per- 
sons about  the.  Mason  oath,|shall  par- 
ticularly interrogate  them,  if  they  have 
taken  that  oath,  and  when  and  where 
they  did  so?  If  they  have  taken 
the  said  oath,  or  declared  their  appro- 
bation of  it,  oftener  than  once,  upon 
being  admitted  to  a  higher  degree  in 
a  Mason  lodge ;  if  that  oath  was  not 
adminbtered  to  them,  without  letting 
them  know  the  terms  of  it,  till  in  the 
«ict  of  administering  the  same  to  them  ? 
If  it  was  not  an  oath  binding  them  to 
keep  a  number  of  secrets,  none  of 
which  they  were  allowed  to  know  be- 
fore swearing  the  oath  ? 


Moreover,  the  synod  appoint,  that 
the  several  sessions  shall  call  before 
them  all  persons  in  their  congrega- 
tions who  are  of  the  Mason  crau,  and 
others  whom  they  have  a  particular 
suspicion  of,  as  being  involved  in  the 
Mason  oath,  except  sueh  as  have  been 
already  dealt  with,  and  have  given 
satbfaction  upon  that  head ;  and  that, 
upon  their  answering  the  first  of  the 
foregoing  questions  in  the  affirmative, 
the  sessions  shall  proceed  to  put  the 
other  interrogatories  before  appointed : 
as  also,  that  all  persons  of  the  Mason 
craft,  applying  for  sealing  ordinances, 
and  likewise  others  concerning  whom 
there  may  be  any  presumption  of  their 
having  been  involved  in  the  Mason 
oath,  shall  be  examined  by  the  minis- 
ter if  they  have  been  so :  and  upon 
their  acknowledging  the  same,'  or  de- 
clining to  answer  whether  or  not,  the 
ministers  shall  refer  them  to  be  dealt 
with  by  the  sessions,  before  admitting 
them  to  these  ordinances :  and  that  all 
such  persons  offering  themselves  to  the 
sessions  for  joining  in  covenanting 
work,  shall  be  then  examined  by  the 
sessions,  as  their  concern  in  the  aforer 
said  oatq. 

And  the  synod  further  appoint,  that 
when  persons  are  found  to  be  involved 
in  the  Mason  oath,  according  to  their 
confessions,  in  giving  plain  and  par- 
ticular answers  to  the  foregoing  ques- 
tions, and  professing  their  sorrow  for 
the  same;  the  said  scandal  shall  bo 
purged  by  a  sessional  rebuke  and  ad- 
monition ;  ^ith  a  strict  charge  to  ab- 
stain from  all  concern  afterwards  in 
administering  the  said  oath  to  any,  or 
enticing  any  into  that  snare,  and  from 
all  practices  of  amusing  people  about 
the  pretended  mysteries  of  their  signs 
and  secrets.  But  that  persons  who 
shall  refuse  or  shitt  to  give  plain  and 
particular  aiij»wers  to  the  foregoing 
questions,  shall  be  reputed  under 
scandal  incapable  of  admission  to 
seeling  ordinances,  till  they  answer 
and  give  satisfaction  as  before  ap- 
pointed. 

And  the  synod  refer  to  the  several 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


29$  MASONIC. 

sessions,  to  proceed  unto  higber  cen- 
sure as  they  shall  see  cause^  in  the 
case  of  persons  whom  they  may  find 
involved  in  the  said  oatli,  with  special 
aggravation,  as  taking  or  relapsing  in- 
to the  same,  in  opposition  to  warnings 
against  doing  so. 

And  the  synod  appoint,  that  each  of 
the  sessions  under  their  inspection 
shall  have  an  extract  of  this  act,  to  be 
inserted  in  their  books,  for  executing 
the  same  accordingly.- 

AN  IMPARTIAL  EXAMINATION 

OP  THE  ACT  OP  THE  ASSOCIATE  SYNOD 

AGAINST  THE  PRBE  MASONS, 

(First   published  in  the  Edinburgh  Maga- 
zine for  October,  1767.) 

The  society  of  Free  Masons,  which, 
notwithstanding  the  oppc^ition  of  hu- 
man power,  civil  and  ecclesiastic,  has 
now  subsisted  for  many  ages,  and  al- 
ways maintained  its  inseparable  char- 
acter of  secrecy,  prudence,  and  good 
manners,  stands  at  this  day  in  such 
high  repute,  that  an  apology  in  its  be- 
half is  certainly  unnecessary. 

Public  esteem  has  always  been  re- 
puted a  crime  in  the  eyes  of  malevo- 
lence ;  and  virtue  and  eoodness  have 
always  been  held  as  declared  enemies, 
by  hypocritical  sanctity  and  bigot 
zeal.  To  such  impure  sources  alone 
can  be  attributed  a  very  extraordinary 
act  lately  pronounced  against  this  ven- 
erable society,  by  the  synod  of  the  as- 
sociate brethren,  and  published  in  the 
ScoU  Magazine  for  August  1757. — 
From  this  act  the  practices  of  this  ho- 
ly association  appear  so  agreeable  to 
those  of  the  Roman  Catholic  church, 
that  they  afford  a  shrewd  suspicion, 
that  the  principles  fiom  which  such 
practices  result,  are  of  the  same  na- 
ture, and  have  the  same  dangerous 
tendency,  with  those  professed  by  the 
Roman  See. 

In  the  year  1738,  his  Holiness,  at 
Rome,  by  the  plenitude  of  the  apostol- 
ic power,  issued  a  declaration,  con- 
demnatory of  the  society  of  Free  Ma- 
sons I  with  an  absolute  prohilHtion  to 


all  the  fiuthful  in  Christ,  to  enter  nAo^ 
promote,  or  favour  that  society,  under 
no  less  penalty  than  an  ipso  facto  ex- 
communication ;  and  the  help  of  the 
secular  arm  is  commanded  to  enforce 
the  execution  df  this  declaration.  By 
an  edict,  consequent  to  this  declara- 
tion, informations  are  commanded,  un- 
der the  severest  corporal  punishment ; 
and  encouraged  by  an  assurance  from 
the  Infallible  Chair,  «  Uai  oaiks  of 
secrecy  in  matters  already  condemned 
are^  thereby  rendered  voidy  and  lose 
their  ohligation.^^  Let  it  be  recorded 
in  history,  to  the  honour  of  their  ho- 
linesses,  the  associate  synod  in  Scot- 
land, that,  in  the  year  1757,  they  also 
thundered  out  their  tremendous  BoU 
against  the  Free  Masons:  whereby 
dl  their  votaries  are  enjoined  to  reveal 
every  thing,  which,  under  the  sanctioa 
of  a  solemn  oath,  they  are.  obliged  to 
conceal :  they  are  thereafter  to  ab* 
stain  from  such  societies  themselves, 
nor  are  they  to  entice  others  to  enter 
into  them,  under  the  terrible  certifica- 
tion of  being  reputed  under  scandal, 
debarred  from  sealing  ordinances,  and 
subjected  to  higher  censure,  as  there 
should  appear  cause. 

The  professed  reascms  which  brought 
the  fraternity  under  the  papal  displei^ 
sure  were,  that  they  confederated  per- 
sons of  all  religions  and  sects,  under  a 
shew  of  natural  honesty,  in  a  close 
and  inscrutable  bond,  and  under  cer- 
tain ceremonies;  which,  by  an  oath 
taken  on  the  Bible,  they  obliged  them, 
by  the  imprecation  of  heavy  punish- 
ments, to  preserve  with  inviolable  se- 
crecy. 

These  urged  by  the  Seceders,  as 
the  motive  of  their  proceedings,  are, 
That  the  Masons  administered  their 
oath  of  secrecy  under  a  capital  penal* 
ty,  without  first  declaring  what  the 
matters  to  be  concealed  are ;  and  that 
some  of  these  things  are  taken  from 
the  Bible.  And  the  publishers  ai  th« 
Scots  Magazine  very  quaintly  insinu- 
ate another  reason,  that  the  whole 
matters  thus  communicated  under  the 
strictest  ties  of  secrecVi  are  a  biunlU 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MASONIC. 


tyr 


of  Irides  and  inconsistencies,  unwor- 
thy of  the  solemnity  of  an  oath  :  this 
they  do  by  a  reference  made  to  a  pre- 
tended discovery  of  the  secrets  of  Ma- 
sonry, published  in  their  Magazine, 
1755y  p.  133,  and  communicated  to 
them,  it  may  be  presumed,  by  the 
same  correspondents. 

The  rtcat  conformity  betwixt  these 
two  BoIb^  leave  small  room  to  doubt 
but  the  last,  as  well  as  the  6r$t,  would 
have  had  the  sanction  of  corporal  pun- 
ishments,  if  God,  for  the  curse  of  man- 
kind, had  strengthened  the  hands,  and 
seconded  the  intolerating  views  of  its 
authors  with  secular  power.  They 
baare  not,  however,  omitted  what  was 
within  their  grasp ;  but  have  attempt- 
ed to  erect  a  dominion  over  the  con- 
sciences of  mankind,  by  assumin^^  a 
power  of  dispensing  with  human  obli- 
gations. This  b  a  privilege,  which, 
however  envied,  the  reformed  clergy 
have  hitherto  left,  together  with  his 
jH^tended  infallibility,  in  the  posses* 
sion  of  their  elder  brother  at  Rome ; 
till,  in  this  more  enlightened  age,  these 
bold  asaerters  of  tlM  Christian  rights 
have  dared  to  reclaim  and  vindicate  it 
as  their  own  ;  for,  should  antichrist 
enjoy  any  benefit  which  the  saints  are 
not  better  entitkd  to  ? 

This  b  not  the  least  engine  which 
has  been  successfuUv  employed  to 
rear  up  and  support  the  enormous  fab- 
ric of  the  Roman  hierarchy.  The 
Bost  solemn  treaties  betwixt  princes 
and  stales,  the  allegiance  of  subjects 
to  their  sovereigns,  the  obli«itions  of 
private  contracts,  the  marriage  vow, 
aad  every  other  the  most  sacred 
bond  of  human  society,  are  dissolved, 
and  fly  off  at  the  breath  of  this  dis- 
pensing power,  Hke  chaff  before  the 
whid :  and  to  this,  as  to  their  native 
soorce,  may  be  ascribed  those  many 
wars  and  devastations^  rebellions, 
Massacres,  and  assassinations,  with 
which  every  page  of  the  history  of  the 
Christian  world  is  defiled* 

b  it  possible  that  a  doctrine,  at- 
tended with  floch  a  train  of  dreadful 

O 


consequences,  can  have  any  foundation 
either  in  reason  or  revelation  ? 

The  nature  of  an  oath,  particularly 
of  a  promissary  oatb^  which  this  pre- 
tended power  only  respects,  compre- 
hends a  solemn  invocation  of  the 
name  of  God,  the  supreme  and  omnis« 
cient  being,  the  searcher  of  the  hearts 
and  the  trier  of  the  reins  of  the  chil- 
dren of  men ;  not  only  as  an  impartial 
witness  (Jer.  xlii,  5.)  of  what  is  prom- 
ised, but  likewise  as  the  judge  and 
certain  avenger  of  perjury,  falsehood 
and  deceit.  The  performance  of  the 
oath  b^omes  thereby  cognoscible  by 
the  omniscience  of  the  divine  tribunal ; 
(Jer.  xxix,  23.)  and  bis  justice  and 
omnipotence  will  not  fail  to  pour  out 
the  phial  of  his  threatened  vengeance 
upoa  ttiat  execrated  head,  which  has 
dared  to  invocate  the  name  of  the 
Lord  in  vain. 

[Zech.  V.  4.  Jnrisjurandi  contemp- 
ta  veligio  satis  Deum  uhorem  habet 
P.  and  1.  2.  c.  de  Reb.  cred.  et.  Jure- 
jun.] 

Such  are  the  conclusions  of  sound 
reason,  warranted  by  Scripture.  Can 
it  then  be  imagined,  that  God  has  left 
it  in  the  power  of  man  to  alter  these 
established  rules  of  his  judgments  and 
procedure  ?  Would  not  this  be,  as  the 
poet  says,  to  , 

Snatch  from  his  hand  the  balance  and  the 

rod, 
Rejadge  his  justice,  be  the  God  of  God  ? 

Pop«. 

There  arises  likewise  from  an  oath, 
a  requisitorial  right  to  the  persou  in 
whose  behalf  it  is  conceived.  The 
thing  promised  becomes  his  property; 
of  which,  so  for  as  the  acquisition  does 
not  infringe  any  anterior  obligation, 
he  cannot  be  defrauded  by  any  dis- 
pensing power,  without  manifest  in- 
justice, and  the  exercise  of  an  arbitra- 
ry and  despotic  authority. 

The  cause  of  introducing  oaths  into 
civil  society  affords  another  forcible  ar- 
gument against  this  dispensing  power. 
The  natural  and  indispensible  obliga- 
tions to  justice  and  equity,  even  assist- 
ed by  the  fear  yf  civil  punishmeats. 


500 


MAMlUC. 


puttiog  their  haftd  below  the  thujh  of 
the  peraop  to  whom  |hey  swore ;  (Gen. 
xxvi,  2.— xlvii,  29.^  the  Pagans,  by 
taking  hold  of  the  altar;  (Et,  ut  hios 
Graecorum  est,  Jurandi  causa,  ad  aras 
accederet,  cic.  pro  Balbo)  and  both, 
protending  their  hands  to  heaven: 
(Gen.  xiv.  22.) 

Suspiciens  ecBlam,  tendit  que  ad  sidera 
dextraiD)  Hiec  eadem*  ^nem,  terrain^  marei 
sidera  juro.  Virg.  iE  )L  12,  v.  196. 

in  which  last,  they  have  been  followed 
by  all  Christian  nations;  some  of 
whom,  particularly  oar  sister  kingdom, 
when  they  take  an  oath,  touch  or  kiss 
the  holy  Gospels :  and  not  only  so, 
but  every  private  society,  every  court 
of  justice  have  forms  of  administering 
oaths,  peculiar  to  themselves.  Shall 
not  then  the  society  of  Free  Masons 
be  allowed  that  privilege,  without  the 
imputation  of  superstition  and  idola- 
try? 

The  matter  of  the  oath  comes  next 
under  consideration.     The  Free  Ma- 
sons pretend  to  take  some  of  their 
secrets  from  the  Bihk,    A  grievous 
accusation,  ^ly !   <^  Jack,  in  the  Tale 
of  a  Tub,  pould  work  his  lather's  will 
into  any  shape  he  pleased ;  so  that  it 
served  him  for  a  night  cap  when  he 
went  to  bed,  or  an  umbrella  in  rainy 
weather.    He  would  clap  a  piece  of  it 
about  a  sore  toe ;  or,  when  he  had  fits 
burn  two  inches  unckr  his  nose ;  or,  if 
any  thing  lay  heavy  on  his  stomach, 
scrape  off  and  swallow  as  much  of  the 
powder  as  wo^ld  lie  on  a  silver  penny ; 
they  were  all  infallible  remedies.''  But 
it  ^eems  Knocking  Jack  of  the  north, 
will  not  have  all  ^hese  pearls  to  be 
cast  before  swine,  and  reserves  them 
only  for  his  special  favourites.     What 
magical  virtues  there  ^an  be  in  the 
words  of  the  sacred  passage  men- 
tioned in  the  act,  (1  Kings,  vii,  21.) 
the  world  will  be  at  a  loss  to  discover ; 
and  the  holy  brethren,  sp  well  versed 
in  mysteries,  are  the  most  proper  to 
explain. 

But  th«*e  art  other  things  which  are 
ground  of  scruple,  in  the  manoet  of 
^wearing  pf  the  sa^d  oi^^.    This  the 


synod  hav<e  not  thooghl  fit  to  men^o  ^ 
but  their  publisher  has  supplied  th« 
defect,  by  a  reference  to  a  Mason's 
confession  of  the  oath,  word,  and  other 
secrets  of  his  craft ;  (vide  3cots  Mag. 
1755,  p.  133.)  which  indeed  contaias 
variety  of  matters  insignificant,^-  and 
ridiculous  in  themselves,  and  only  fit 
for  the  amusement  of  such  persons  as 
the  ignorance  and  incoherence  of  the 
author  display  him  to  be. 

The  Free  Mason  does  not  think 
himself  at  ail  concerned  to  defend  and 
support,  whatever  nonsense  shall  be 
fathered  upon  the  craft  by  the  igno- 
rant and  malevolent.  The  honour  of 
the  fraternity  is  not  in  the  least  tar- 
nished by  it. 

The  whole  narrative,  particularly 
the  metliod  of  discovering  a  Mason, 
the  'prentice's  shirt  and  the  Monday's 
lesson,  cannot  fail  to  move  laughter, 
even  in  gravity  itself.  But  absurd 
and  ridiculous  as  the  whole  of  this 
matter  must  appear,  a  passion  of  an- 
other nature  b  thereby  excited,  which 
respects  the  discoverer  himself;  and 
that  is  an  honest  indignation  of  die 
perjury  he  has  committed.  For  if  this 
person,  scrupulously  conscientious,  as  I 
he  is  represented,  was  actually  under 
the  oath  he  pretends,  however  trifling 
and  insignificant  the  thing  itself  might 
be;  yet,  m  the  opinion  of  the  most 
eminent  casuis'ts,  he  was  obliged  to 
keep  his  oath;  the  respect  due  to  tmtfa 
and  falsehood  being  the  same  in  trivial 
matters,  as  in  those  of  greater  import- 
ance; otherwise  €rod  mast  be  invoked 
as  witness  to  a  lie.  [Saundersom  d^ 
obi.  jur.  prael.  3, 115.J 

But  if  Ignorance  or  imbecility,  de- 
luded by  hypocritical  sanctity,or  head- 
strong zeal,  can  afford  any  aJleviation, 
(for  an  absolute  acquittance  it  cannot) 
the  charge  must  fall  with  redoubled 
weight  upon  those  who  induced  him, 
and  would  induce  others,  over  whom 
this  infiuence  extends,  to  put  such  an 
affront  upon  the  honour  of  Cody  and 
to  habituate  themselves  to  the  pia<> 
tice  of  iosipcerity  and  injustice  to- 
wards man:  is  pot  this  to  adopt  the 

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MASOmC. 


301 


pnetioes  and  opinions  of  their  reli- 
gioas  predecessors  in  hypocrisy,  sedi- 
tion, and  rebellion  ?  who  held,  that 

"  Oaths  were  not  porpofed  more  than  law, 
To  keep  the  good  ana  just  in  awe ; 
Bat  to  eoDfiiie  the  bad  aod  sinful, 
Uke  moral  cattle,  in  a  pinfold." 

The  natural  curiosity  of  mankind, 
always  eager  and  impetuous  in  the 
piBsnit  of   knowledge,  when  disap- 
pointed of  a  rational  account  of  things, 
is  afrt  to  rest  upon  conjecture,  and 
oAeo  embraces  a  cloud  in  place  of  the 
goddess  of  truth.     So  has  it  lared  with 
the  secret  of  Masonry.    That  society, 
tiioi^h  venerable  for  its  antiquity,  and 
respectable  for  its  good  behavioiv,  has, 
through  falsehood  and  misrepresenta- 
tion, groundlessly  awakened  the  jea- 
loo^  of  states,  and  the  obloquy  of 
flsaljcious  tongues.    Their  silence  and 
secreey,  as  tl^y  gave  ample  room  for 
Aemost  extravagant  conjectures,  so 
tliey  likewise  afforded  an  opportunity 
for  the  greatest  imputations,  without 
fear  of  a  reAitation.     They  have  been 
tnuhiced  as  atheists  and  blasphemers, 
branded  as  idolaters,  and  ridiculed  as 
the  dupes  of  nonsense.     The  hard 
names,  liberally  bestowed  on  th^r  se- 
CKts  by  the  Seceders,  partake  of  all 
Aese;  (vid.  Scots  Magazine,  17^9 
f.  137.)  but  their  proof  relates  only 
to  the  last;  aod  indeed,  it  seems  ra- 
ther like  the  delirious  ravings  of  a 
bntH  sick  head,  inflamed  with  the 
imnes.  of  enthusiasm,  than  a  rational 
design  to  expose  them.     Its  publica- 
tioo  is  an  affront  upon  the  judgment 
ef  the  world;  no  less  ^han  inserting  it 
in  the  Scots  Magazine^  is  an  impeach- 
iBent  upon  the  taste  of  the  readers  of 
tint  collection. 

To  remove  such  prejudices,  and  in 
some  degree  to  satisfy  the  world,  and 
inquisitive  cavillers,  Masons  haye  con- 
dcaceoded  to  publish  what  op'^nions 
they  maintain^,  with  respect  to  the 
nest  principles  of  human  action. 
^tif  Mi^  in  ^^  >8  founded  upon 
wkjmHotd^  notion  of  his  being  and 


nature,  assisted  by  revelation.  They 
never  enter  into  the  speculative  re- 
gions, so  much  cultivated  by  divines : 
Wliat  cannot  be  comprehended  in  his 
nature,  they  leave  as  incomprehensi- 
ble. They  adore  his  Infinite  Being, 
and  reckon  it  the  perfection  of  man- 
kind to  imitate  his  communicable  per- 
fections. Their  duty  to  their  superi- 
ors, to  theur  neighbours,  and  to  them- 
selves, are  all  expressed  in  a  manner 
the  most  agreeable  to  the  soundest 
morality.  And  when  their  actions  and 
behaviour,  which  alone  are  subject  to 
human  olweryation,  and  affect  human 
society,  are  conformable  to  such  prin- 
ciples, no  power  on  earth  has  a  right 
to  inquire  uirther. 

The  Free  Mason  professes  a  partic- 
ular regard  to  the  liberal  arts ;  and  he 
makes  no  scruple  to  own,  that  many 
of  his  secrets  have  a  reference  to  them. 
From  these,  just  notions  of  order  and 
proportion  are  attained,  and  a  true 
taste  of  symmetry  and  beauty  is  form- 
ed. And  as  the  tranution  from  the 
beauties  of  the  natural  to  those  of  the 
moral  species  are  so  easy  aud  appa- 
rent, if  there  b  any  virtue,  if  there  is 
any  praise,  instead  of  slander  and  de^ 
famation,  protection  and  encourage^ 
ment  ought  to  be  his  reward* 

Men  of  the  greatest  power  and  digr 
nity,  the  divine  and  the  philosopher, 
have  not  been  ashamed,  in  all  ages,  ^q 
own  their  relation  to  this  society,  and 
to  encourage  and  protect  it  by  their 
power  and  influence.  But,  should  thi^ 
combination  terminate  in  nothing  but 
wickedness  and  folly,  omq  it  b^  imaginr 
ed,  either  that  men  of  honour,  wisdom 
and  intq^rity,  would  lend  their  coun- 
tenance to  fraud,  and  encourage  foily, 
merely  to  make  the  world  stare  ?  or 
that  an  association,  resting  on  so  un-. 
tenable  a  foundation,  would  so  ion? 
have  subsisted  \^ithout  the  cement  of 
mutual  trust  and  confidence,  which  re- 
sult from  virtue  and  consistency  alone  ? 
The  Free  Mason,  conscious  of  his 
integiity,  and  persuaded  of  the  good 
teoiitency  of  his  principles  to  promote 
the  purposes  of  virtue  and  human  hap- 

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302 


i      MASONIC. 


piness,  beholds  with  contempt  the  im- 
potent efforts  of  envy  and  ignorance, 
however  sanctified  the  garb,  or  digni- 
fied the  title  tbey  may  assume.  In 
his  lodge,  which  he  considers  as  the 
school  of  justice,  love,  and  benevo- 
lence, he  is  taught  to  oppose  truth  to 
misrepresentation;  good  humour  and 
innocent  mirth  to  sourness  and  grim- 
ace, the  certain  signs  of  malice 
and  imposture.  To  attend  the  im- 
portunate calls  of  his  enemies,  would 
be  to  interrupt  his  tranquillity;  and 
therefore,  wrapt  in  his  own  innocence, 
be  despises  their  impotent  attacks, 
and  for  tbe  future  will  disdain  to  en- 
ter the  lists  with  champions  so  weak 
and  ignorant,  so  deluded  and  deluding. 

R.  A.  M.  T.  I. 

Edin.  Oct  25,  1757- 


MASONIC  CELEBRATION. 

The  splendid  Masonic  Hall,  in  the 
State-house,  in  State-street,  Boston, 
was  consecrated  and  dedicated  in  am- 
ple and  ancient  form,  by  the  grand 
lodge  of  the  commonwealth.  The 
M.  W.  Jolm  Dixwell,  grand  master, 
presided ;  assisted  by  the  R.  W.  and 
Rev.  Brother  Eaton,  acting  as  deputy 
grand  master ;  and  the  R.  W .  and  Rev. 
Brothers  Green  and  Richardson, 
grand  chaplains.  The  introductory 
prayer  was  offered  by  the  Rev.  Br. 
Green,  of  Maiden ;  the  dedicatory 
service,  by  the  Rev.  Br.  Eaton,  and 
the  benediction  by  the  Rev.  Br.  Rich- 
ardson, of  Hiugham.  An  appropriate 
and  eloquent  oration  was  delivered  by 
the  R.  W.  Samuel  L.  Knapp,  Esq. 

T^he  brethren  assembled  were  nu- 
merous and  richly  arrayed,  and  the 
whole  scene  was  impressive.  The 
processions  were  highly  splendid,  as 
were  all  the  regalia  of  the  lodge,  and 
the  decorations  of  the  Hall ;  a  de- 
scription of  them  would  exceed  our 
limits.  The  execution  of  the  work 
reflects  much  taste  on  the  skill  and 
science  of  Brother  Parris,  the  chief 
architect.    A  full  band  of  m  usic,  an 


a  scientific  choir  of  singers  added 
much  to  the  interest  of  the  solemni- 
ties.— Centinel. 


FORTITUDE  LODGE,  No.  81. 
AT  BROOKLYN  (l.  I.) 

Officers  for  the  present  year^ 
Br.    William    B'anning,    Worshipful 

Master; 
Br.  John  Martin,  Senior  Warden  5 
Br.  Levi  Porter,  Junior  Warden ; 
Br.  George  Little,  Treasurer ; 
Br.  David  Storm,  Secretary ; 
Br.  John  Duzendurf,    >    Masters  of 
Br.  John  Wardell,       3  Ceremonies; 
Br.  John  Durland,  Senior  Deacon ; 
Br.  Henry  Cropsy,  Junior  Deacon : 

Br.  John  Okey,  Tyler; 

Regular  coromunicatious  on  the 
first  and  third  Monday  of  every 
month. 

PAST  MASTCRS. 

Brothers  George  A.  Clussman,Wil. 
liam  Carpenter,  Richard  M.  Malcom, 
Daniel  Rhodes,*  Losee  Van  Nostrand, 
Isaac  Nichols,  Dirck  Ammerman,* 
John  Titus,  John  Harmer,*  Garret 
Dury«a,  Abraham  Van  Nostrand^  ' 
James  Boyd,  John  Hammell. 
•  Deceased. 


ANTIQUITIES. 

Extracts  from  old  manuscripts  a»d 

records  in  Great  Britain. 

No.  L 

An  old  manuscri|)t  which  was  destroyed 
with  many  others  in  1720,  said  to  have  l>eea 
in  the  possession  of  Nicholas  Stone»  a  cu- 
rious sculptor  under  Inigo  Jonesvcontaios 
tbe  following  particulars : 

St.  Alb  an  loved  Masons  well,  and 
cherished  them  much,  and  made  their 
pay  right  good ;  for  he  gave  them  ii^. 
per  weeke,  and  iiicf.  to  their  cheer; 
whereas,  before  that  time,  in  all  the 
land,  a  Mason  had  but  a  penny  a  day, 
and  his  meat,  until  St.  Alban  mended 
iti.  And  he  gott  them  a  charter  from 
the  king  and  his  eounsell  for  ,to  bold  a 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MASONIC. 


SOS 


general  counsell,  and  gave  itl  to  name 
Asiiemblie.  Thereat  he  was  hhnselfe, 
and  did  heipe  to  make  Masons,  and 
gave  theni  good  charges.*' 

No.  II, 

A  record  of  the  society,  written  in  the 
aeigD  of  Edward  IV,  formerly  in  tlie  pos- 
sessbn  of  the  famous  Elias  Asnmole,  foun- 
der of  the  Museum  at  Otiordj  and  unfor- 
tunately destroyed,  with  other  papers  on 
the  subject  of  Masonry,  at  the  Revolution, 
gives  the  following  account  of  the  state  of 
Masonry  at  that  period : 

"  Though  the  ancient  records  of  the 
Brotherhc^  in  England  were  many 
of  them  destroyed  or  lost  in  the  wars 
of  the  Saxons  and  Danes,  yet  king 
Athektane  (the  grandson  of  king  A1- 
frede  the  great,  a  mighty  architect,) 
the  first  anointed  king  of  England, 
aad  who  translated  the  Holy  Bible 
into  ibe  Saxon  tongue,  (A.  D.  930,) 
when  he  had  brought  the  land  Into  rest 
and  peace,  built  many  great  works, 
and  encouraged  many  Masons  from 
France,  who  were  appointed  overseers 
thereof,  and  brought  with  them  the 
charges  and  regulations  of  the  lodges, 
preserved  since  the  Roman  times; 
who  also  prevailed  with  the  king  to 
improve  the  constitution  of  the  En- 
gl'ish  lodges  according  to  the  foreign 
jnbdel,  and  to  increase  the  wages  of 
working  Masons. 

"Tli  said  king's  brother,  prince 
Edwin,  being  taught  Masonry,  and 
taking  upon  him  the  charges  of  a  mas- 
ter Mason,  for  the  love  he  had  to  the 
said  craft,  and  the  honourable  princi- 
ples wherecHi  it  is  grounded,  purchas- 
ed a  free  charter  of  king  Athelstane, 
for  the  Masons  having  a  correction 
among  themselves  (as  it  was  anciently 
expressed,)  or  a  freedom  and  power 
to  regulate  themselves,  to  amend  what 
might  happen  amiss,  and  to  hold  a 
yearly  commtmication  and  general  as- 
sembly : 

"  Accordingly  prince  Edwin  sum- 
mooed  all  the  Masons  in  the  realm  to 
meet  him  in  a  congr^atimi  at  York, 
who  came  and  composed  a  general 
1(H^)  of  which  he  was  grand  master ; 


and  having  brought  with  th^m  all  the 
writings  and  records  extant,  some  in 
Greek,  some  in  Latin,  some  in  French, 
and  other  languages,  from  the  con- 
tents thereof  that  assembly  did  frame 
the  constitution  and  charges  of  an  En- 
glish lodge,  made  a  law  ta  preserve 
and  observe  the  same  in  all  time  com- 
ing, and  ordained  good  pay  for  work- 
ing masons,  &c."  And  he  made  a 
book  thereof,  how  the  craft  was  found- 
ed :  and  he  himself  ordered  and  com- 
manded that  it  should  be  read  and 
tolde  when  any  Mason  should  be 
made,  and  for  to  give  him  his  charges. 
And  from  that  day  until  this  time 
manners  of  Masons  have  been  kept  in 
that  forme,  as  well  as  menne  might 
govern. 

"  Furthermore,  however,  at  divers 
assemblies  certain  charges  have  been 
made  and  ordained  by  the  best  advice 
of  masters  and  fellowes,  as  the  exigen- 
cies of  the  craft  made  necessarie." 


For  the  Masonic  Registxr. 
MASONIC  ODE. 

From  the  orient  realms  of  mom, 
Floods  of  pure  eifulgent  light. 

To  these  nettier  regions  borne, 
Burst  on  mortab'  feeble  sight ! 

Rob'd  in  splendour  from  above. 

Only  seen  by  Masons  true : 
Forms  of  harmony  and  love, 

Order's  cMMren  rise  to  view. 

See  the  emblems  which  they  bear 
On  then*  standard  wide  unfurPd ; 

See  tlie  lktbl,  role,  and.  si^DAREr 
And  the  lime  which  girt  the  world. 

Dark  in  light's  effulgent  blaze, 
Glorious  mysteries  lie  coneeard, 

Hid  from  the  world's  unconscious  gflz^ 
To  Masonic  eyes  revcai'd. 

Myst'ries  whiofa  the  tide  of  time, 
Unobscur'd  has  borne  along ; 

Truths  eternal  and  sublime, 
Sages'  glory,  poets*  song. 

All  that  wisdom  can  unfold, 
Whate'er  is  gieat,  or  good,  or  fair, 

Kings  and  princes,  sages  old, 
Sought, acquJr'd,  and  treasur'd  here. 

Through  the  depths  of  mental  night 
We  bare  been  a  leading  st«r[;^ 


I 


304  MlSGkLLANIOtS. 


To  mankiad  a  burning  licbt, ' 
Beaming  lustre  from  afar. 

Like  celestials  from  above, 
Concord,  harmony  and  joy, 

Friendship,  nnity,  and  love, 
Form  our  bond,  are  our  employ. 

PHI  LOS* 


SONG. 

'Tie  Masonry  unites  mankind. 
To  gen'rous  actions  forms  the  soul  *, 

In  friendly  converse  all  conjoin'd, 
One  spirit  animates  the  whole. 

Where'er  aspiring  domes  arise, 
^Vherever  sacred  altars  stand  ; 

Those  altars  Maze  unto  the  skies, 
Those  domes  proclaim  the  Mason's  hand. 

Aspassions  rough  the  soql  dis^ise, 
Till  science  cultivates  the  mmd ; 

So  the  rude  stone  unshapen  lies. 
Till  by  the  Mason's  art  refio'd. 

Tho'  still  our  chief  concern  and  care. 
Be  to  deserve  a  brother's  name  ; 

Yet  ever  mindful  of  the  fair, 

Their  kindest  influence  we  claim.' 

Let  wretches  at  our  manhood  rail ; 

But  they  who  once  our  order  prove, 
Will  own  that  we  who  build  so  well, 

With  equal  energy  can  love. 


MISCELLANEOUS. 

CLAUDINE. 

AN  niTKRESTUlO  SWISS  TALE. 

(Concluded  £rom  page  264.) 

Daring  the  first  days  she  gained  but 
little,  because  she  was  awkward,  and 
took  a  good  deal  of  time  to  earn  a  pen- 
ny ;  but  she  soon  became  expert,  and 
the  work  went  on  well.  Claude,  in- 
telligent, active,  alert,  ran  all  the  er- 
rands of  the  quarter.  Benjamin,  du- 
ring her  absence,  sat  upon  and  guahl- 
ed  the  stool.  If  there  was  a  letter  to 
be  carried;  a  box  to  be  removed,  or 
bottles  to  be  conveyed  to  the  cellar, 
Claude  was  called  in  preference  to 
any  other.  She  was  the  con6dant  and 
assistant  of  all  the  lazy  servants  in  the 
neighbourhood,  and  in  the  evening  of- 
ten carried  home  a  crown  as  the  gains 
of  the  day.  This  was  fully  sufficient 
to  support  her  and  Benjamin,  who 


every  day  increased  in  stature  an^      i 
in  beauty,  and    became  the  favour- 
ite of  all  the  neighbourhood.     This 
happy  life  liad  lasted  for  more  than 
two  years,  when  one  day  Claudine 
and  her  son  being  btisy  in  arranging      i 
their  little  stall,  with  their  heads  b^t 
towards  the  ground,  they  saw  a  foot 
appear  upon  the  stool.    Claudine  took 
her  brush,  and  without  lookmg  at  the 
master  of  the  shoe,  immediately  be- 
gan her  operation.     When  the  most 
difficult  part  was  done,  she  raised  her 
head-rthe  brush  fell  from  her  hands  ; 
she  remained  immovable :  it  was  Mr. 
Belton  whom  she  beheld.    Little  Ben- 
jamin, who  was  not  at  all  affected^ 
took  up  the  brush,  and  with  a  feeble 
hand  attempted  to  finbh  the  work  of 
Claudine,  who  still  remained  motion- 
less, whh  her  eyes  fixed  on  Mr.  Bel- 
ton.     Mr.    Belton    asked    Claudine^ 
with  some  surprise,  why  she  stopped  ; 
and  smiled  at  the  efiorts  of  the  child, 
whose  figure  pleased  him.    Claudine, 
recovering  her  spirits,  excused  herself 
to  Mr.  Beltod  with  so  sweet  a  v<»ce, 
and  such  well  chosen  words,  that  the 
Englbhman,  still  more  surprised,  ask- 
ed Claudine  several  questions  about 
her  country  and  lier  situation.    Clan* 
dine  answered,  with  a  calm  air,  that 
she  and  her  brother  were  two  orphans 
who  gained  their  bread  by  the  em- 
ployment which  he  saw,  and  that  they 
were  from  the  valley  of  Chamouny. 
This  name  struck  Mr.  Belton;  and 
looking  attentively  at  Claudine,  he 
thought  he  recognised  her  features^and 
inquured  her  name.     ^1  am  called 
Claude,"  said  she,  ^<  And  you  are  from 
Chamouny  ?"  "  Yes,  sir ;  from  the  vil- 
lage of  Prieure."  <<  Have  you  no  other 
brother  ?"  ^'  No,  sir  j  none  but  Benja- 
min.'*    "  Nor  any  sister ;"    ^*  Parckni 
me,   sin"    **What  is  her  name?** 
<<  Claudine."   <<  Claudine !  and  where 
is  she?"    "Oh,  I  do  not  know,  in- 
deed, sir."    "  How  can  you  be  igtto> 
rant  of  that?"    "For  many  reaaoaa, 
sir,  which  cannot  interest  you;  and 
which  would  make  we  weep  to  j^** 


MtSGELLANCOU^. 


805 


eyes,  tcld  him  she  had  done.  Mr. 
BeltoQ  put  his  hand  into  his  pocket, 
and  gave  her  a  guinea.  ^'I  cannot 
change  you,"  said  Claudine.  "  Keep 
the  whole,'*  said  Mr.  Belton,  "and 
leil  me,  would  you  be  sorry  to  quit 
joar  present  employment,  and  accept 
«f  a  good  place  ?"  "  That  cannot  be, 
sir."  "Why  not?'*  "  Because  nothing 
in  the  world  would  tempt  me  to  quit 
my  brother."  "  But  suppose  he  were 
to  accompany  you?"  "That  would 
be  another  matter."  "  Well,  Claude, 
you  shall  go  with  me ;  I  will  take  you 
into  my  service;  you  will  be  very 
bappy  in  n)y  house ;  and  your  brother 
shall  accompany  you."  "  Sir,"  replied 
Claudine,  a  little  embarrassed,  "fa- 
vour me  with  your  address,  and  I  will 
call  upon  you  to-morrow."  Mr.  Bel- 
ton  gave  it  her,  aud  bade  her  not  fail 
to  come. 

It  wa»  well  for  Claudine  that  the 
conversation  now  terminated,  for  her 
tears  almost  sufiScated  her ;'  she  has- 
tened to  her  chamber,  and  there  shut 
herself  up  to  reflect  on  what  she  ought 
to  do.  Her  inclination  and  her  affec- 
UOB  for  Benjamin  prompted  her  to  en- 
ter into  the  service  of  Mr.  Belton ;  but 
his  past  treachery,  and  the  promise 
the  had  made  to  the  curate  of  Salen- 
tktt^  never  to  do  any  thing  which 
BMlgiit  endanger  her  virtue,  made  her 
heState ;  but  the  welfare  of  Benjamin 
preponderated :  she  resolved  to  go  to 
Mr.  BehoB,  to  serve  him  faithfully,  to 
make  him  cherish  his  son,  but  never 
to  tell  him  who  she  was. 

Tliis  point  being  settled,  the  next 
manung  she  waited  on  Mr.  Belton, 
nko  ogreed  to  give  her  good  wages ; 
aid  ordered  her  and  her  brother 
dothes  immediately.  Mr.  Belton  now 
wished  to  renew  the  conversation  of 
yesterday,  and  to  inquire  further  con- 
eeroing  her  sister.  But  Claudine  in- 
tem^ed  him;  "Sir,"  said  she,  "my 
tiscer  IS  no  more ;  she  is  dead  of  mis- 
ery ctegrin,    and  jepentance.    All 

r  ftmiijr  have  lamented  her  unhap- 

aod  those  who  are  not  our 

I  no  rlf^t  to  renew  such 


melancholy  reflections.^  Mr.  Belton 
more  than  ever  astonbhed  at  the  spi- 
rit of  Claude,  desisted  from  further  in- 
quiry;  but  he  conceived  a  high  esteem 
and  a  sincere  friendship  for  this  extra- 
ordinary young  man. 

Claude  soon  became  the  favourite 
of  his  master ;  and  Benjamin,  towards 
whom  Mr.  Belton  found  himself  at- 
tached by  an  irresistible  impulse,  was 
forever  in  his  chamber.  The  amiable 
child,  as  if  conscious  that  he  owed  his 
existence  to  Mr.  Belton,  loved  him 
nearly  as  well  as  Claudine;  and  he 
told  him  so  with  such  sweet  innocence 
and  simplicity,  that  the  Englishman 
could  not  do  without  Benjamin,  Clau- 
dine wept  for  joy,  but  she  concealed 
her  tears.  But  the  dissipation  of  Mr. 
Belton  afflicted  the  heart  of  Claudine, 
and  made  her  fear  that  the  hour  of 
discovery  wouldft>ever  arrive. 

By  the  death  of  his  parents,  Mr, 
Belton  had,  at  the  age  of  nineteen, 
beeh  left  master  of  a  very  large  for- 
tune, which  he  had  hitherto  employed 
in  wandering  over  Italy,  stopping 
wherever  he  found  it  agreeable  to  him ; 
that  is,  wherever  he  met  with  agree- 
able women  whom  he  could  deceive 
and  ruin.  Alady  of  the  court  of  Turin, 
rather  advanced  in  life,  but  still  beau- 
tiful, was  his  present  mistress:  she 
was  lively,  passionate,  and  very  jea- 
lous of  Mr.  Behon.  She  required  that 
he  should  sup  with  her  every  evening, 
and  write  to  her  every  morning.  The 
Englishman  did  not  dare  to  refuse. 
Notwithstanding  all  this,  they  had 
many  quarrels :  for  the  smallest  cause 
she  would  weep,  tear  her  hair,  seize  a 
knife,  and  play  a  thousand  fooleries, 
which  began  to  tire  Mr.  Belton.  Claude 
saw  and  felt  all  this,  but  she  suffered 
in  silence.  .Mr.  Belton  gave  her  every 
day  fresh  marks  of  confidence,  and 
often  complained  to  her  of  the  unplea- 
sant life. he  led.  Claude  now  and  then 
risked  a  little  advice,  half  jciSe  and  ' 
half  serious,  which  Mr.  Belton  fieird 
with  approbation,  and  promised  to 
follow  to-morrow ;  but  when  to-mor- 
row  came,  Mr.  Belton  returned  to  th^ 


sd6 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


lady,  more  from  habit  tlmn  ioclination ; 
and  Claude,  who  wept  in  private,  af- 
fected to  smile;  while  she  accompanied 
her  master. 

At  length  there  arose  so  violent  a 
quarrel  between  the  Englishman  and 
the  marquise,  that  he  resolved  never 
again  to  go  near  her;  and  in  order  to 
prevent  it,  connected  himself  with  an- 
other lady  of  the  same  place,  no  bet- 
ter than  the  former.  In  this  change 
Claudine  saw  a  new  subject  of  afflic- 
tion. All  that  she  had  done  was  now 
to  do  again ;  but  she  resigned  herself 
to  the  task  without  complaining,  and 
continued  to  serve  her  master  with  the 
same  fidelity  as  ever.  But  the  mar- 
quise was  not  of  a  disposition  so  easily 
to  yield  up  the  heart  of  her  English 
lover.  She  had  him  watched,  and 
soon  discovered  her  rival;  she  ex- 
hausted every  stratagem  of  intrigue  to 
make  him  return.  But  in  vain :  The 
Englishman  did  not  answer  her  letters ; 
refused  her  appointments;  and  ridi- 
culed her  threats.  The  marquise,  now 
in  despair,  thought  only  of  revenge. 

One  day,  when  Mr.  Belton,  followed 
by  Claudine,  was  as  usual  coming  out 
of  the  house  of  his  now  mistress,  about 
two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and,  alrea- 
dy displeased  with  her,  was  telling  his 
faithful  Claudine  that  be  had  thoughts 
of  setting  out  immediately  for  London, 
suddenly  four  desperadoes  armed  with 
poniards  fell  on  iVIr.  Belton,  who  had 
hardly  time  to  throw  himself  against 
the  wall  with  his  sword  in  his  hand. 
Claudine,  on  sight  of  the  assassins, 
sprang  before  her  master,  and  received 
in  her  bosom  the  stroke  of  a  poniard 
aimed  at  Mr.  Belton:  she  instantly 
fell.  The  Englishman  set  furiously 
on  the  man  who  had  wounded  her, 
and  soon  stretched  him  oq  the  pave- 
ment; and  the  three  others,  finding 
themselves  furiously  attacked,  quickly 
fled^  Mr.  Belton  did  not  pursue  them ; 
•he  returned  to  his  domestic,  raised  him, 
embraced  him,  and  called  on  him  with 
tears;  but  Claudine  did  not  answer, 
lor  she  had  fainted,  Mr.  Belton  took 
h^r  in  his  arms,  carried  her  to  his 


house,  and  laid  her  in  his  own  bed, 
while  others  at  his  desire  ran  for  a  sur- 
geon. Mr.  Belton,  impatient  to  see 
the  nature  of  the  wound,  unbuttoned 
Claudine's  waistcoat,  drew  aside  the 
shirt  covered  with  blood,  looked  and 
beheld,  with  astonishment,  the  bosom 
of  a  woman.  * 

During  this,  the  surgeon  arrives,  and 
examines  the  wound,  which  he  de- 
clares not  to  be  mortal,  as  the  wea- 
pon had  struck  against  the  bone.  The 
wound  U  dressed,  and  stimulants  ap- 
plied ;  but  still  Claudine  does  not  re- 
cover. Mr.  Belton,  who  supported 
her  head,  perceives  a  ribband  round 
her  neck ;  he  pulls  it  and  discovers  a 
rlug.  It  is  his  own:  the  same  that 
he  had  left  on  Montanverd  to  the  beau- 
tiful shepherdess  whom  he  so  cruelly 
abandoned.  Every  thing  is  at  once 
evident,  lie  sends  f^r  a  nurse,  who  • 
undresses  Claudine  and  lays  her  in 
her  own  bed ;  and  the  poor  girl,  at 
length  recovering  hrt*  senses,  throws 
her  eyes  around,  and  sees  with  aston- 
ishment tlie  nurse,  the  surgeon,  her 
master,  and  Benjamin,  who,  awaken- 
ed by  all  this  noise,  had  risen,  and 
run  half  naked  tp  his  brother,  whom 
he  embraced  with  tears. 

Claudine  immediaiely  endeavoured 
to  console  Benjamin;  then  calling  to 
mind  what  had  happened,  seeing  her- 
self in  a  bed,  and  reflecting  with  in- 
quietude that  she  had  been  undressed, 
she  quickly  put  her  hand  to  the  rib- 
band which  held  her  ring.  Mr.  B., 
who  watched  her,  saw  in  her  looks 
the  pleasure  with  which  she  found  it 
was  still  there.  He  then  requested 
every  one  to  leave  the  room ;  knelt 
down  by  the  side  of  the  bed,  and 
taking  the  hand  of  Claudine;  '^Do 
not  be  alarmed,"  said  he,  **  my  sweet 
friend :  I  know  every  thing;  and  it  is 
for  the  happiness  of  us  both.  You 
are  Claudine;  and  I  am  a  monster. 
There  is  but  one  way  that  1  can  cease 
to  be  so,  and  that  depends  upon  yoa. 
I  owe  you  my  life',  and  1  wish  to  owe 
my  honour  to  you ;  for  it  is  1  who 
liavc  lost  it,  not  vou.     Your  wound 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MiSCBLLANBOtrS. 


8or 


is  not  dangerous ;  and  as  soon  as  you 
can  go  out,  you  shall  bestow  on  me 
the  name  of  husbaud,  and  pardon  me 
a  crime  which  I  am  far  from  pardon- 
ing myself.  I  have  long  strayed  from 
the  pallis  of  virtue,  Claudine;  but 
they  will  be  the  more  agreeable  when 
I  am  restored  to  them  by  you."  Im- 
agine the  surprise,  the  joy,  the  trans- 
ports of  Claudine.  She  would  have 
spoke;  but  her  tears  prevented  her. 
She  then  perceived  little  Benjamin, 
who  had  been  turned  out  with  the  rest, 
bat,  anxious  about  his  brother,  had 
softly  opened  the  door,  and  thrust  in 
his  pretty  face  to  see  what  was  going 
forward.  Claudine  showed  him  to 
Mr.  BeltoD,  saying,  "  There  is  yeiir 
son,  he  will  answer  you  better  than  I 
can.''  He  flew:  benjamin  covered 
fatm  with  kisses,  and,  carrying  him  to 
his  mother,  he  passes  the  remainder 
of  the  night  between  bb  wife  and  bis 
child,  with  a  satisfaction  of  mind  to 
which  he  had  been  long  a  stranger. 

Im  fifteen  days,  Claudine  was  well. 
She  bad  informed  Mr.  B^hon  of  all 
that  had  happened  to  her.  Thb  en- 
deared ber  to  the  Englishman,  who 
was  now  fonder  of  her  than  when  he 
saw  her  first.  Claudine,  now  dressed 
as  a  woman,  but  with  great  plainness, 
entered  the  coach  of  the  Englishman 
with  Beniamin,  and  they  went  straight 
to  Salencnes  to  the  house  of  the  curate. 
The  good  man  did  not  at  first  know 
Claudine;  but  at  length  recollecting 
her,  he  ran  to  Madame  Felix,  who 
almost  died  of  Joy  when  she  beheld 
Claudine  and  Benjamin.  The  next 
day  they  set  out  for  Chamouny,  where 
Mr.  Belton,  who  was  a  Catholic,  wish- 
ed tbat  the  marriage  might  be  publicly 
solemnized  in  the  parish  church  of 
Prieure. 

In  the  evening  the  curate  of  Salen- 
ches  was  sent  to  demand  the  hand  of 
his  daughter  of  the  terrible  M.  Simon. 
The  old  man  received  him  with  great 
gravity,  heard  him  without  testifying 
any  joy,  and  gave  his  consent  in  very 
^  few  words.  Claudine  came  to  throw 
'  tierseif  at  his  feet ;  he  allowed  her  to 


remain  a  few  seconds ;  raised  her  with- 
out a  smile ;  and  saluted  Mr.  Belton 
with  great  coolness.  The  good  Na- 
nette laughed  and  cried  at  the  same 
time.  On  the  road  to  chnrch  she  car- 
ried Benjamin  on  one*  hand,  and  held 
her  sister  with  the  other.  The  two 
curates  walked  before,  and  Madame 
Felix  behind  with  M.  Simon.  All  the 
children  of  the  village  followed,  sing- 
ing songs. 

In  this  order  they  reached  the 
church,  where  the  ceremony  was  per- 
formed by  the  curate  of  Salenches. 
Mr.  Belton  had  tables  covered  on  the 
banks  of  tlie  Arva,  where  every  guest 
was  welcome ;  and  the  whole  village 
danced  during  eight  days.  He  bought 
some  good  estates  for  old  M.  Simon; 
but  he  refused  to  accept  of  them.  Na- 
nette was  not  so  impracticable.  She 
accepted  of  an  estate  and  a  handsome 
house  which  Mr.  Belton  gave  her,  and 
is  now  the  richest  and  the  happiest 
woman  in  the  parish.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Belton  went  away  m  about  a  month, 
carrying  with  them  the  benedictions 
of  every  body.  They  are  now  at 
London,  where  I  understand  Benja- 
min has  five  or  six  brothers  and  sisters. 

Such  is  their  history,  which  I  could 
not  shorten,  because  1  tried  to  tell  it 
you  in  the  words  of  the  curate,  whom 
I  have  often  beard  repeat  it.  If  it  has 
pleased  you,  you  will  excuse  me. 

I  thanked  Francis  Paccard,  assur- 
ing him  that  his  tale  had  interested  me 
much.  1  descended  from  Montanverd 
with  my  head  full  of  Claudine ;  and 
during  my  return  to  Geneva  I  wrote 
this  story,  as  Paccard  had  told  it  me, 
without  trying  to  correct  the  mauv 
faults  of  style  which  the  critics  wiU 
no  doubt  discover  in  it. 


For  the  Masonic  Rxqistkr. 

NAPOLEON,  ON  SUICIDE. 

" The  Everlasting  has  fixed 

"His  cauon  'gainst  seif  slaughter.*' 

The  following  order  of  the  Empe- 
ror Napoleon,  is  Jiighl/  deserving  of 


SOS 


UrSCSLLANEOUS. 


record  in  every  publication.  It  was 
written  in  the  flood  of  hit  fortone^  and 
its  precepts  strictly  followed  in  the 
day  of  his  deepest  adversity,  evince  a 
predetermined  course  to  have  ever 
been  marked  obt  by  this  extraordinary 
man.  After  the  fatal  battle  o(  Water- 
loo, it  was  intimated,  even  by  many  of 
his  friends,  that  he  ought  not  to  have 
survived  the  disaster;  '<and  in  fact," 
observes  a  celebrated  writer,  "the 
thought  of  exerting  that  convenient 
privilege  of  ancient  heroism  must  have 
suggested  itself  to  his  mind ;"  as  he 

said  to  his  aid-de-camp,  count , 

"  Quelgue  choee  qui  arrivejje  n^avan" 
cerai  paala  destinee  d^une  keure. 
What  ever  event  may  happen,  I  will 
not  promote  my  destiny  a  single  hour.'' 
The  disappointments  however,  at- 
tending ambition,  may  be  more  easily 
borne  than  many 

<<         of  the  thousand  natural  sjiocks 
*«  That  flesh  is  heu-  to." 

And,  as  in  the  present  instance,  the 
pangs  of  despised  love, 

*<  Lends  the  will  to  desperate  undertakings, 
"  As  oft  as  any  passion  under  heaven." 

In  the  retrospect  of  glorious  events, 
the  warrior  or  statesman,  may  find  re- 
lief for  existing  misfortune;  but  to  the 
desponding  lover,  no  such  consolation 
b  afforded.  His  reflections  on  the 
past — his  remembrance  of  fend  antici- 
pations, now  forever  destroyed,  only 
harrow  up  more  deeply  his  agonized 
feelings.  The  world  before  him  is  one 
dreary  disconsolate  waste.  The  ob- 
ject, beyond  hb  attainment^to  his 
excited  imagination,  now  shines  with 
increased  splendour.  The  obstacles 
between  him  and  his  hopes — to  his 
exaggerating  fancy,  now  appear  utterly 
insurmountable.  His  "  betossed  soul" 
can  tind  no  alleviation — he  b  discard- 
ed thence,  where  he  had 

" gamer'd  op  his  heart ; 

Where  either  he  must  live,  or  bear  no  life.' 

The  document,  to  which  our  re- 
marks are  uuxoductoiyi  appean  to  be 


authentic,  being  attested  by  Bessieres, 
commander  of  the  horse-grenadiers, 
to  the  consideration  of  which  corps, 
it  seems  more  particularly  addressed. 

Order  of  the  22d  Floreal,  year  10. 

The  Grenadier  Groblin  has  destroy- 
ed himself  in  consequence  of  a  love 
affair.  He  was  otherwise  a  respect- 
able man.  This  b  the  second  event 
of  the  kind  which  has  happened  in 
the  corps  within  a  month. 

The  First  Consul  has  directed,  that 
it  shall  be  inserted  in  the  order  of  the 
day  of  the  guard,  that  a  soldier  ought 
to  know  how  to  subdue  sorrow  and 
the  agitation  of  the  passions;  that 
there  is  as  much  courage  in  enduring 
with  firmness  the  pains  of  the  heart, 
as  in  remaining  steady  under  the  grape- 
shot  of  a  battery.  To  abandon  one's 
self  to  grief  without  resistance,  to  kill 
one's  self  in  order  to  escape  from  it, 
is  to  fly  from  the  field  of  battle  before 
one  is  conquered, 
(signed)  Bonaparte,  Ftr«<  Cotwwl 

A  true  copy,  Bessierks. 

Fnm  the  Ammetn  Sentinel 

HIGHLY  JNTERESTING  FACT. 

Mes9r$.  Editors. — In  my  late  re- 
searches for  information,  I  have  not 
met  with  any  article  which  has  so 
deeply  interested  my  mind,  as  the  fol- 
lowing account  of  the  behaviour  of  a 
person  bom  blind,  upon  receiving  his 
sight  at  twenty  years  of  age,  by  the 
operation  of  an  Oculist.  I  think  you 
cannot  afford  a  greater  gratification  or 
treat  to  your  numerous  readers,  than 
by  giving  it  a  place  in  your  useful 
Sentinel. 

Your's  respectfully.    *     lector. 

The  operator,  Dr.  Grant,  havinr 
observed  the  eyes  of  his  patient,  and 
convinced  his  relatives  and  friends, 
that  it  was  highly  probable  he  could 
remove  the  obstacle  which  prevented 
his  sight ;  all  his  acquaintance,  who 
had  any  curiosity  ta  1;^  pVesent^  wben 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


IMSCfiLLAXBOUS, 


6m 


ceofi  of  full  age  and  understandiug  was 
to  receive  a  new  sense,  assembled 
tkemselves  on  this  occasion,  but  were 
desired  to  observe  profound  silence  in 
case  sight  was  restored,  in  order  to  let 
the  patient  make  bis  own  observations 
without  the  advantage  of  discovering 
his  friends  by  their  voices.  Among 
I  many  others,  the  motlier,  brethren, 
sisters,  and  a  young  lady,  for  whom  l>e 
had  formed  a  particular  attachment, 
were  present.  The  operation  was 
performed  with  great  skill,  so  that 
sight  was  instantly  produced. 

When  the  patient  first  received  the 
dawn  of  light,  there  appeared  such  an 
ccstacy  in  his  action,  that  he  seemed 
ready  to  swoon  away  in  the  surprise 
of  joy  and  wonder.  The  surgeon 
stood  before  him  with  his  instruments 
in  his  hands.  The  patient  observed 
him  from  head  to  foot,  and  then  sur- 
veyed himself  as  carefully,  and  com- 
paring the  doctor  to  himself,  he  obser- 
ved, both  their  hands  were  exactlv 
alike,  except  the  instruments,  which 
he  took  for  part  of  the  doctor's  hands. 
When  he  had  continued  in  this  amaze- 
ment for  several  minutes,  his  mother 
codd  DO  longer  bear  the  agitation  of 
'  so  many  passions  as  thronged  upon 
'  her,  but  fell  upon  his  ^eck,  crying  out, 
"  my  son,  my  son  P  The  young  gen-, 
tkman  knew  her  voice,  and  could  say 
no  more  than,  '^  Oh  me !  are  yoti  my 
dear  mother  f^^  and  fainted.  On  his 
recovery,  he  heard  the  voice  of  his  dear 
female  friend,  which  had  a  surprising 
eflfect  upon  him.  Having  called  her 
to  him,  he  appeared  to  view  her  with 
admiiation  and  delight,  and  then  ask- 
ed her  what  had  been  done  to  bim  ? 
Whither,  said  he,  ayn  I  carried  ?  L«  all 
this  about  me,  the  thing  which  I  have 
heard  so  often  <rf ?  IS  THIS  SEE- 
ING ?  Were  you  always  thus  hap- 
py, when  you  said  you  were  glad 
to  see  each  other?  Where  is  Tom, 
who  used  to  lead  me  ?  But,  methinks, 
I  conld  now  go  any  where  without 
him.  He  attempted  to  walk  alone, 
but  seemed  terrified.  When  they  saw  I 
his  iU$culty,  they  told  hip  that  till  be  |{ 


became  better  acquainted  with  hi^Jiew 
being,  he  must  let  the  servant  sUlt 
lead  him.  The  boy  being  fi^ented 
to  him,  he  was  asked  what'  sort  of  a 
creature  he  took  Tom  to  be  beiHre  he 
had  seen  him?  He  answered,  ^^he 
believed  he  was  not  so  large  as  him- 
self, but  that  he  was  the  same  sort  of 
a  creature.'^ 

The  rumor  of  this  sudden  change 
made  all  the  neighbors  throng  to  see 
bim.  As  he  saw  the  crowd  gathering, 
he  asked  bis  physician  '^bow  many 
there  were  in  all  to  be  seen  ?"  His 
physician  replied,  that  it  would  be 
very  proper  for  him  to  return  to  his 
late  condition,  and  suffer  his  eyes  to 
be  covered  for  a  few  days,  until  they 
should  receive  strength,  for  he  might 
well  remember  that  by  degrees  he  had, 
by  little  and  little,  come  to  the  strength 
he  had  at  present,  in  his  ability  of 
walking,  moidng,  &c.  and  that  it  was 
the  same  thing  with  his  eyes,  which, 
he  said  would  lose  the  power  of  con- 
tinuing to  him  that  wonderful  trans- 
port he  was  in,  except  he  would  be 
contented  to  lay  aside  the  use  of  them, 
till  they  became  strong  enough  to  bear 
the  light  without  so  much  feeling  as  he 
underwent  at  present.  With  much 
reluctance  he  was  prevailed  upon  to 
have  his  eyes  covered,  in  which  con- 
dition they  kept  him  in  a  dark  room, 
till  it  was  proper  to  let  the  organ  re- 
ceive its  objects  without  furtl^  pre- 
caution. After  several  days,  it  was 
thought  proper  to  unbind  his  head, 
and  the  young  lady  to  whom  he  was 
attached  was  instructed  to  perform 
this  kind  office^  in  order  to  endear  her 
still  more  to  him,  by  so  interesting^  a 
circumstance;  and  that  she  might 
moderate  his  ecstacies,  by  the  persua- 
sion of  a  voice,  which  had  so  much 
power  over  him  as  her's  ever  bad. — 
When  she  began  to  take  the  bandage 
from  his  eyes,  she  addressed  him  as 
follows : — 

"William,  I  am  now  taking  the 
binding  off  in  order  to  give  you  sight, 
but  when  1  consider  what  I  am  doing, 
I  tremble  wit|i  the  anprehension,  that 

Digitized  by  VjOOQ IC 


310 


mSTOIltCAL. 


though  I  have  from  my  childhood  lov- 
ed you,  dark  as  you  wercy  and  though 
you  had  conceived  a  strong  attachment 
for  me,  yet  you  will  find  there  is  such 
a  thing  as  beauty,  which  may  ensnare 
you  into  a  thousand  passions  of  which 
you  are  now  innocent,  and  take  you 
from  me  forever.  But  before  I  put 
myself  to  that  hazard,  tell  me  in  what 
manner  that  love  you  always  profes- 
sed to  me,  entered  into  your  heart,  for 
its  usual  admission  is  at  the  eyes." 

The  young  gentleman  answered, 
"dear  Lydia,  if  by  seeing,  I  am  to 
lose  the  soft  pantings  which  I  have 
always  felt  when  I  heard  your  voice ; 
if  T  am  no  more  to  distinguish  the  step 
of  her  I  love,  when  she  approaches 
me,  but  to  change  that  sweet  and  fre- 
quent pleasure  for  such  an  amazement 
as  I  experienced  the  little  time  I  late- 
ly saw ;  or  if  I  am  to  have  any  thing 
besides,  which  may  take  from  me  the 
sense  1  have  of  what  appeared  most 
pleasing  to  me  at  that  time,  Twhich  ap- 
parition it  seems  was  you;  pull  out 
these  eyes  before  they  lead  me  to  be 
ungrateful  to  you,  or  undo  myself  I 
wish  for  them  but  to  see  you ;  pluck 
them  from  their  sockets,  if  they  are 
to  make  me  forget  you.'' 

Lydia  was  extremely  satisfied  and 
delighted  with  these  assurances,  and 
pleased  herself  with  playing  with  his 
perplexities  for  a  few  moments,  when 
she  withdrew  the  bandage,  and  gave 
him  light,  to  his  inexpressible  joy  and 
satisfaction. 

In  all  his  conversation  with  her,  he 
manifested  but  very  faint  ideas  of  any 
thing  which  had  not  been  received  at 
the  ear. 


HISTORICAL^ 

ACCOUNT  OF  ALEXANDER'S  EATE- 
DinON  INTO  INDIA. 

From  Dr.  Robertson's  Disquisitions. 

About  an  hundred  and  sixty  years 
after  the  reign  of  Darius  .Hystaspes, 
Alexander  tbe  Great  undertook  his 
expedition  into  India.     The  wild  sal- 


lies of  passiou,  the  indecent  excesses 
of  intemperance,  and  the  osteniutious 
displays  of  vanity,  too  frequent  in  the 
conduct  of   this  extra<^dinary  man, 
have  so  degraded  his  character,  that 
the  pre-eminence  of  his  merit,  either 
as  a  conqueror,  a  politician,  or  a  legis- 
lator, lias  seldom  been  justly  estima- 
ted.    The  subject  of  my  present  en- 
quiry leads  me  to  consider  hb  opera- 
tions only  in  one  light,  but  it  will  en- 
able me  to  exhibit  a  striking  view  of 
the  grandeur  and  extent  of  his  plans, 
lie  seems,  soon  after  his  first  success- 
es in  Asia,  to  have  imbibed  the  idea  of 
establishing  an    universal  monarchy, 
and  aspired  to  the  dominion  of  the 
sea,  as  well  as  the  land.      From  the 
wonderful  efibrts  of   the  Tynans  in 
their  own  defence,  when  left  without 
any  ally  or  protector,  he  conceived  an 
high  opinion  of  the  resources  of  mari- 
time power^  and  of  the  wealth  to  Ik 
derived  from  commerce;  and  to  cs- 
tablbh  a  station  for  it,  preferable  in 
many  respects  to  that  of  Tyre,  as  soon 
as  he  completed  the  conquest  of  Egypt, 
he  founded  a  city  near  one  of  the 
mouths  of  the  Nile,  which  he  honour- 
ed with  his  own  name;  and  with  such 
admirable  discernment  was  the  situa- 
tion of  it  chosen,  that  Alexandria  sooa 
became  the  latest  trading  dty  in  the 
ancient  world;  and,  not^/nthstancBng 
many  successive  revolutions  in  empire, 
continued  during  eighteen  centuries  to 
be  the  chief  seat  of  commerce  with 
India.     Amidst  the   military  opera- 
tions to  which  Alexander  was  soon 
obliged  to  turn  his  attention,  the  desire 
of  acquiring  the  lucrative  commerce 
which  the  Tyrians  had  carried  on  with 
India,  was  not  relinqt^ished.      Events 
soon  occurred,  that  not  only  confirm- 
ed and  added  strength  to  his  desire, 
but  opened  to  him  a  prospect  of  ob* 
taining  the  sovereignty  of  those  re- 
gions which  supplied  the  rest  of  man- 
kind with  so  many  precious  common 
dities. 

After  his  final  victory  over  the  Per- 
sians, he  was  led  in  pursuit  of  the  last 
Darius,  and  of  B^amas  the  nnirtewr 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


HISTOKICAL. 


311 


of  that  unfortunate  monarch,  to  tra- 
verse that  part  of  Asia  which  stretch- 
es from  the  Caspian  Sea  beyond  the 
river  Oxns.  He  advanced  towardr 
the  east  as  Tar  as  Maracanda,  then  a 
city  of  some  note,  and  destined,  in  a 
future  period,  und^r  the  modern  name 
of  Samarcand,  to  be  the  capital  of  an 
f  mptre  not  inferior  to  his  own  in  ex- 
tent or  power.  In  a  progress  of  se- 
veral months,  through  pix)vinces  hith- 
erto unknown  to  the  Greeks,  in  a  line 
of  mardi  often  approaching  near  to 
India,  and  among  people  accustomed 
to  much  imercourse  with  it,  he  learned 
many  things  concerning  the  state  of  a 
country  that  had  been  long  the  object 
of  his  thoughts  and  wishes,  which  in- 
creased lib  desire  of  invading  it.  De- 
cisive and  prompt  in  all  his  resolu- 
tions, beset  out  from  Bactria,  and  cros- 
sed that  ridge  of  mountains  which, 
nader  various  denominations,  forms 
the  Stony  Girdle  (if  I  may  use  an  ex- 
pression of  the  oriental  geographers) 
which  encircles  Asia,  and  constitutes 
the  northern  barrier  of  India. 

The  most  practicable  avenue  to 
every  country,  it  is  obvious,  must  be 
fonnied  by  circumstances  in  its  natural 
situation,  sUth  as  the  defiles  which 
lead  through  mountains,  the  course  of 
rivers,  and  the  places  where  they  may 
be  passed  with  the  greatest  ease  and 
sa^y.  In  no  place  of  the  earth  is 
this  line  of  approach  marked  and  de- 
fined more  conspicuously,  than  on  the 
northern  frontier  of  India ;  insomuch, 
that  the  three  great  invaders  of  this 
country,  Alexander,  Tamerlane,  and 
Nadir  Shah,  in  three  distant  ages,  and 
with'Views  and  talents  extremely  dif- 
ferent, advanced  by  the  same  rout, 
with  hardly  any  deviation.  Alexan- 
der had  the  merit  of  having  first  dis- 
covered the  way.  After  passing  the 
mountains,  he  encamped  at  Alexan- 
dria Paropamisana,  on  the  same  scite 
with  the  modern  city  Candahar;  and 
having  subdued  or  conciliated  the  na- 
tions seated  on  the  north-west  bank  of 
the  Indus,  he  crossed  the  river  at  Tax- 
iia,  now  Attock,  the  only  place  where 


its  streams  are  so  tranquil,  that  a 
bridge  can  be  thrown  over  it. 

After  passing  the  Indus,  Alexander 
marched  forward  in  the  road  which 
leads  directly  to  the  Ganges,  and  the 
opulent  provinces  to  the  south-east, 
uow  comprehended  under  the  general 
name  of  Indostap.  But  on  the  banks 
of  the  Hyd^pes,  known  in  modern 
times  by  the  name  of  the  Betah  or 
Chilum,  he  was  opposed  by  Porus.  a 
powerful  monarch  of  the  country,  at 
the  head  of  a  numerous  army.  The 
war  with  Porus,  and  the  hostilities  in 
which  he  was  successively  engaged 
with  other  Indian  princes,  led  him  to 
deviate  from  hb  original  route,  and 
to  turn  more  towards  the  south-west. 
In  carrying  on  these  operations,  Alex- 
ander nrarched  through  one  of  the 
richest  and  best  peopled  countries  of 
India,  now  called  the  Panjab,  from  the 
five  great  rivers  by  which  it  is  water- 
ed ;  and  as  we  know  that  this  march 
was  performed  in  the  rainy  season, 
when  even  Indian  armies  cannot  keep 
the  field,  it  gives  an  high  idea  both  of 
Alexander's  persevering  spirit,  and  of 
the  extraordinary  vigour  and  hardi- 
ness of  constitution  which  soldiers,  in 
ancient  times,  derived  from  the  united 
efi<^cts  of  gymnastic  exercise  and  mil- 
itary discipline.  In  every  step  of  his 
progress,  objects  no  less  striking  than 
new,  presented  themselves  to  Alexan- 
der. The  magnitude  of  the  Indus, 
even  after  he  had  seen  the  Nile,  the 
Euphrates,  and  the  Tigris,  must  have 
filled  him  with  surprise. 

No  country  he  had  hitherto  visited 
was  so  populous  and  well  cultivated, 
or  abounded  in  so  many  valuable  pro- 
ductions of  nature  and  of  art,  as  that 
part  of  India  through  which  he  had 
led  hb  army.  But  when  he  was  in- 
formed in  every  place,  and  probably 
with  exaggerated  description,  how 
much  the  Indies  was  inferior  to  the 
Ganges,  and  how  far  all  that  he  had 
hitherto  beheld  was  surpassed  in  the 
happy  regions  through  which  that 
►great  river  flows,  it  is  not  wonderful, 
tbM  fais  wgerness^  to^^^egl^  t«»ke 


91^ 


MSTORICALt 


possession  of  them^  should  have 
prompted  hini  to  assemble  his  soldiers, 
aud  to  propose  that  they  should  re- 
sume their  march  towards  that  quarter 
where  wealth,  dominion,  and  fame 
awaited  them.  But  they  had  already 
done  so  much,  and  had  suflered  so 
greatly,  especially  from  incessant  rains 
and  extensive  inundations,  that  their 
patience  as  well  as  strength  were  ex- 
iiau^ed,  and  with  one  voice  they  re- 
fused to  advance  farther.  In  this  re- 
solution they  persisted  with  such  sul- 
len obstinacy,  that  Alexander^  though 
possessed  in  the  highest  degree  of 
every  quality  that  gains  an  ascendant 
over  the  minds  of  military  men,  was 
obliged  to  yield,  and  to  issue  orders 
for  marching  back  to  Persia. 

The  scene  of  this  memorable  trans- 
action was  on  the  banks  of  the  Hy- 
phasis,  the  modern  Beyah,  which  was 
the  utmost  limit  of  Alexander's  pro- 
gress in  India.  From  this  it  is  man- 
ifest, that  he  did  not  traverse  the  whole 
extent  of  the  Panjab.  Its  south-west 
boundary  is  formed  by  a  river  ancient- 
ly known  by  the  name  of  Hysudrus, 
and  now  by  that  of  the  Setlege,  to 
M^hich  Alexander  never  approached 
nearer  than  the  southern  bank  of  the 
Hyphasis,  where  he  erected  twelve 
stupendous  altars,  which  he  intended 
a  monument  of  his  exploits,  and  which 
(if  we  may  believe  the  biographer  of 
ApoUonius  Tynaeus)  were  still  re- 
maining, with  legible  inscriptions, 
when  the  fantastic  sophist  visited  In- 
dia, three  hundred  and  seventy-three 
years  after  Alexander's  expedition. — 
The  breadth  of  the  Panjab,  from  Lud- 
hana  on  the  Setlege  to  Attock  on  the 
Indies,  is  computed  to  be  two  hundred 
and  fifty-nine  geographical  miles,  in  a 
straight  line :  and  Alexander's  march, 
computed  in  the  same  manner,  did  not 
extend  above  two  hundred  miles.  But, 
both  as  he  advanced,  and  returned, 
his  troops  were  so  spread  over  the 
country,  and  often  acted  in  so  many  se- 
parate divisions,  and  all  his  movements 
were  so  exactly  measured  and  deline- 
ated by  men  of  science,  whom  he 


kept  in  pay  for  the  purpose,  that  be 
acquired  a  very  extensive  and  accu- 
rate knowledge  of  that  part  of  India. 
When  upon  his  return,  he  reached  the 
banks  of  the  llydaspes,  he  found  that 
the  officers  to  whom  he  had  given  it 
in  charge  to  build  and  collect  as  many 
vessels  as  possible,  had  executed  his 
orders  with  such  activity  and  success, 
that  they  had  assembled  a  numerous 
fleet,  as  amidst  the  hurry  of  war,  and 
the  rage  of  conquest,  he  never  lost 
sight  of  his  pacific  and  commercial 
schemes.      The    destinBticn  of  this 
fleet  was  to  sail  down  the  Indus  to  the 
ocean,  and  from  its  mouth  to  proceed 
to  the  Persian  gulf,  that  a  communica- 
tion by  sea  might  be  opened  with  In- 
dia and  the  center  of  his  dominions. 
The  conduct  of  this  expedition  was 
committed  to  Nearchus,  an  ofllcerequal 
to  that  important  trust.     But  as  Alex- 
ander was  ambitious  to  acquire  fame 
of  every  kind,  and  fond  of  engaging  hi 
new  -  and  splendid    undertakings,  he 
himself  accompanied  Nearchus  in  his 
navigation  down  the  river.     The  ar- 
mament was,  indeed,  so  great  and  mag- 
nificent, as  deserved  to  be  command^ 
by  the  conqueror  of   Asia.      It  was 
composed  of  an  army  of  a  btnidr^ 
and  twenty  thousand  men,  and  two 
hundred  elephants;  and  of  a  fleet  oetr 
two  thousand  vessels,  various  in  bur- 
den and  form ;  on  board  of  which  one 
third  of  the  troops  embarked,  while 
the  remainder,  marching  in  two  divis- 
ions, one  on  the  right,  and  the  other  on 
the  left  of  the  river,  accompanied  them 
in  their  progress.     As  they  advanced, 
the  nations  on  each  side  were  ehher 
compelled  or  persuaded  to  submit. — 
Retarded  by  tne  various  operations  in 
which  this  engaged  hun,  as  well  as  by 
the  slow  navigation  of  such  a  fleet  as 
he  conducted,  Alexander  was  above 
nine  months  before  he  reached  the 
ocean. 

Alexander's  progress  in  India,  in 
this  line  of  direction,  was  far  more 
considerable  than  that  which  he  made 
by  the  route  we  formerly  traced;  and 
when  we  attend  tqr  the^arious  move- 

)igitized  by  VjTjCJ^ 


ttlSTORICAL. 


813 


aenU  of  hb  troops,  the  number  of 
dtks  wbich  tbej  took,  and  the  cDflfer- 
«it  states  which  they  subdoed,  he  may 
be  said  not  only  to  have  viewed,  but 
lo  have  explored  the  countries  through 
winch  he  passed.  This  part  of  India 
has  been  so  little  frequented  by  Eluro- 
peaos  in  latter  times,  that  neither  the 
fontion  of  places,  nor  their  distances, 
cm  be  ascertained  with  the  same  ac- 
caracy  as  in  the  interior  provinces,  or 
even  in  the  Panjab.  But  from  the  re- 
snrcbesof  Major  Rennell,  carried  on 
«itb  no  less  discernment  than  industry, 
ihe  4£8tance  of  that  place  on  the  Hy- 
topeo,  where  Alexander  fitted  out  bis 
iBctfrom  the  ocean,  cannot  be  less 
dHUi  a  thousand  British  miles.  Of  this 
eitensive  region,  a  considerable  por- 
tion, particulariv  the  upper  Delta, 
itietching  from  the  capital  of  the  an- 
cient Malli,  now  Moultan,  to  Patala, 
the  modem  Tatta,  is  distinguished  for 
its  fertitity  and  population.    " 

Soon  after  he  reached  the  ocean, 
Alexander,  satisfied  with  having  ac- 
complished this  arduous  undertaking, 
led  his  army  by  land  back  to  Persia. 
The  command  of  his  fleet,  with  a  con- 
■derable  body  of  troops  on  board  of 
il,  he  left  to'Nearchus,  who,  after  a 
eaarting  voyage  of  seven  months,  con- 
dacted  it  safely  up  the  Persian  gulf  into 
the  Euphrates.  In  this  manner  did 
Alexander  first  open  the  knowledge  of 
}ndia  to  the  people  of  Europe,  and  an 
extensive  district  of  it  was  surveyed 
with  greater  accuracy  than  could  have 
been  expected  from  the  short  time  he 
lemaioed  in  that  country.  Fortunate- 
ly an  exact  account,  not  only  of  his 
military  operations,  but  of  every  thing 
worthy  of  notice  in  the  countries  where 
they  were  carried  oA,  was  recorded  in 
the  Memoirs  or  Journals  of  three  of 
his  nriacipal  officers,  Ptdemy,  the  son 
of  Lagus,  Aristobukis,  and  Nearchus. 
The  two  former  have  not  indeed 
Rached  our  tiiaes,  but  it  is  probable 
lliattlie  most  important  facts  which 
r  flOBtatnedy  were  preserved,  as  Ar- 
es to  have  followed  them 
( in  his  History  of  the  Ex* 


pedition  of  Alexander;  a  work  which? 
though  composed  long  after  Greece 
had  lost  its  liberty,  and  in  an  age  when 
genius  and  taste  were  on  the  decline, 
is  not  unworthy  the  puresf  times  of 
Attic  literature. 

If  an  untimely  death  had  not  put 
a  period  to  the  reign  of  the  Macedoni- 
an hero,  India,  we  have  reason  to  think 
would  have  been  more  fully  explored 
by  the  ancients,  and  the  European  do- 
minion would  have  been  establislH'd 
there  two  thousand  years  sooner. 
(To  be  couUnued.) 


For  thk  Masoitig  Rboi9tsk. 

COMMODORE  MACDONOUGH. 

Commodore  Thomas  Macdenougli, 
is  of  a  respectable  family,  and  was 
bom  in  New  Castle  county,  in  the  state 
of  Delaware.  His  father.  Dr.  Tho- 
mas Macdonough,  was  an  eminent 
physician ;  who,  at  the  commencement 
of  the  revolutionary  war,  entered  the 
army,  but  a  short  time  afterwards  re- 
tired fi^m  the  service  with  the  rank 
of  major.  On  the  establishment  ot 
our  independence,  he  was  appointed  a 
judge,  in  which  office  he  aontinued 
during  the  remainder  of  his  lite.  He 
died  in  the  year  1796,  leaving  several 
children.  The  eldest  son  was  a  mid- 
shipman under  Tnixton,  and  in  the 
action  with  the  Insurgent,  lost  a  leg, 
which  compelled  him  to  relinquish  his 
profession.  Commodore  Thomas  Mac- 
donough, who  was  a  younger  son,  ob- 
tained a  midshipman's  warrant  on  his 
father's  death,  and  sailed  with  our 
squadron  up  the  Mediterranean. 

At  this  period  he  has  been  describ- 
ed, as  "  grave,  reserved,  and  circui^ 
spect;  yet  possessed  of  a  daring  ivm 
petuous  character." 

Of  this  trait  he  aflforded  many  in- 
stances, but  more  particulariy  in  the 
action  with  the  gun  boats  in  the  har- 
bour of  Tripoli,  where  his  conduct 
obtained  the  marked  approbation  of 
the  gallant  Decatur,  who  led  the  at- 
tack. 

He  was    afterwards    appointed   a 


J 


314 


HiSTOmiCAL. 


lieutenimt;  aiid  while  tcting  af  such 
on  board  the  Syren,  he.  on  a  particu- 
lar occasion,  evinced  a  determination 
in  support  of  ^^  sailors'  rights,*'  which 
we  trust  may  ever  be  imitated.     The 
brig  was  laying  in  Gibraltar  bay,  and 
lieutenant  iVf<Donough,then  command- 
iog  officer  on  board,  discovering  the 
b<nt  of  a  British  frigate  returning  with 
a  man  which  they  had  nefariously 
taken  from  an  American   merchant 
vessel  in  the  harbour,  dispatched  an 
armed  cutter,  and  rescued  the  sailor. 
Immediately  under  the  guns  of  the  fri- 
gate.    A  similar  proof  of  resolution 
was  afterwards  given  in  defence  of  his 
own  personal  rights.     Being  assailed 
by  three  desperadoes,  one  night  while 
on  shore  at  Syracuse,  he,  by  placing 
himself  against  a  house,  succeeded  in 
wounding  two  of  the  gang.   The  third 
fellow  fled,  and  reached  the  roof  of 
a  barracks,  but  finding  himself  closely 
pursued  by  the  lieutenant,  he  threw 
himself  over  the  walls  and  was  killed. 
Soon  after  the  declaration  of  war, 
in  1812,  Lieutenant  Macdonough  was 
promoted  to  the  rank  of  master  com- 
mandant, and  appointed  to  the  com- 
mand o^the  naval  forces  on   Lake 
Ch^Unplain.  At  this  period  it  consisted 
of  only  a  few  vessels,  but  it  was  gradu- 
ally augmented  on  both  sides  till  the 
period  of  the  memorable  conflict.  The 
British  fleet  being  superior  in  force, 
and  in  a  state  of  complete  preparation, 
entered   Cumberiand  bay,  where  the 
American  squadron  were  at  anchor, 
on  the  morning  of  the  l^th  September, 
1814.     The  battle  immediately  com- 
menced, and  was  carried  on  with  gr^at 
violence  for  nearly  two  hours.   Twice 
the  Saratoga,  the  flag  ship  of  commo- 
4iore  Macdonough,  was  set  on  6re  by 
the  hot  shot  of  the  enemy's  frigate. 
At  this  critical  period,  her  guns  on  the 
aide  next  to  the  opposing  vessel  being 
mostly  dismounted,  the  commodore 
ordered  a  stern  anchor  to  be  dropped, 
and    cutting   the   bower  cable,    the 
ship  swung  round  with  her  larboard 
side  on  the  enemy,  when  a  single  dis- 
d»argeof  her  great  guns  compelled  her 


adversary  to  lower  her  colours.  The 
remainder  of-  the  squadron,  with  tho 
exception  of  a  few  row  gallies,  sooo 
followed  the  example.  The  battle 
having  been  contested  with  great  obsti- 
nacy, the  loss  on  both  sides  was  se* 
vere.  The  names  of  the  gallant  men 
who  fell,  received  the  ostul  honorarjr 
tribute  of  their  heroic  commander; 
but  the  fate  of  a  few  who  survived  thf 
bloody  strife,  should  now  be  recorded. 
Sailing-master  Brum,  under  whose  di- 
rection the  decisive  manoeuvre  which 
terminated  the. battle,  was  efifected, 
died  a  few  years  afterwards  in  New- 
York.  And  in  that  city,  likewise,  ex- 
pired midshipman  Baldwin,  a  promia* 
ing  young  officer,  of  a  wound  received 
in  the  action,  and  under  which  he  lin- 
gered for  nearly  a  year. 

During  the  engagement,  a  game  cock 
on  board  the  Saratoga,  flew  into  the 
rigging,  and  continued  crowing  till  the 
victory  was  achieved.  In  the  evening 
of  the  same  day,  the  heavens  were  un- 
usually illuminated  by  tlie  aurora  bo- 
realis,  or  northern  lights.  These  cir- 
cumstances iu  the  time  of  Livy,  would 
no  doubt  have  aflbrded  sufficient  proof 
of  some  supernatural  agency;  but  on 
the  present  occasion,  few  could  pei^ 
ceive  "  the  precurse  of  fierce  events,^ 
iu  the  common 

«  office  of  a  fowl  :" 

or,  transform  the  harmless  corruscar 
tions  of  the  polar  heavens,  into 
"  Fiery  warriors  fighting  in  the  clouds." 

Some  incidents,  however,  afibrding  le« 
speculation  to  the  superstitious,  but 
more  satisfaction  to  a  contemplative 
mind,  may  be  related. 

On  the  appearance  of  the  hostile 
fleet,  the  crew  of  the  ship  was  called 
together,  while  the  commodore  solemn- 
ly invoked  the  favour  of  Heaven^  ui 
his  country's  cause* 

In  the  heat  of  the  battle,  we  have 
understood,  that  a  Scotch  woman  on 
board  the  Saratoga,  came  up  to  Ae 
commodore,  with  a  heavy  complaiiit 
agamst  a  black  boy,  who  she  said  was 
capering  about  the  deck;  makii^  hiifh 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


4 


SIR   WILLIAM   WALLACE, 

Bejecting  the  offer*  ofEduford^t  MmitUrt, 


\ 
\ 

Digitized  by  VjO  AqIC 


HISTORICAL. 


515 


adf  merry)  so  that  she  found  it  impos- 
sible to  get  him  to  do  any  thing.  Sur- 
rocraded  as  he  was  by  scenes  of  horror, 
the  commodore  could  not  refrain  from 
smiling,  as  he  advised  the  poor  woman 
to  endure  her  grievance,  with  a  little 
patience.  For  ourselves,  we  know 
not  which  most  to  admire — the  levity 
of  the  boy,  the  insensibility  of  the 
woman,  or  the  cool  and  collected  calm- 
ness of  the  commodore. 

The  approbatory  rewards  bestowed 
on  the  gallant  commander,  were  nu- 
joerous,  and  general.  But  one  nmre 
solid  and  appropriate  than  the  rest, 
was  a  grant  by  the  state  of  New- York, 
of  one  thousand  acres  of  land,  laying 
on  the  shores  of  the  bay  in  which  the 
action  occurred. 

After  the  war,  comihodore  Macd<^- 
nough  was  ibr  a  short  time  stationed 
at  Portsmouth,  New-Hampshire ;  but 
afterwards  sailed  with  the  Querriere, 
to  the  Mediterranean.  From  thi»  sta- 
tion he  retired  last  year,  in  conse- 
quence of  a  misunderstanding  with 
commodore  Stewart,  which  has  since 
b«€D -satisfactorily  adjusted,  as  already 
related  in  a  former  number  of  the  Ma- 
soDic  Register.*  At  present  be  re- 
sides with  his  family,  at  his  mansion, 
in  Middletown,  Connecticut. 

The  person  and  character  of  i;om- 
modore  Macdonough  is  described  in  a 
late  publication,  as  follows :  ^^  He  has 
a  fine  head,  light  hair,  complexion,  and 
tyes;  and  his  person  tall  and  digni- 
fkd :  strict  in  his  deportment,  and  ex- 
emplary in  his  piety .'^  In  addition, 
it  may  be  observed,  (and  certainly  no 
where  with  more  propriety  than  in 
this  work,)  that  the  commodore  is  a 
worthy  member  of  the  fraternity ;  ha- 
y'mg  been  initiated  several  y^ars  ago, 
in  one  of  the  lodges  in  New-York. 
Did  the  reputation  of  the  order  require 
support,  the  character  of  Macdonough 
would  alone  afford  a  pillar  on  which 
*  H  rmght  securely  rest,  against  the 
fw»t  violfot  assaults  of  bigotry  and 
intoWrailce;    For  where  among  the 

•  Bee  «  Real  Greatness,"  p.  237.  No.  vi. 


opposers  of  Masonry,  shall  we  find 
more  piety,  more  patriotism,  or  valour, 
than  have  been  evinced  in  the  spotless 
life  of  this  heroic  seaman. 


SIR  WILLIAM  WALLACE. 

In  our  present  number  we  have  given 
a  design,  (engraved  on  wood)  repre- 
senting a  well  known  event  in  the  life 
of  this  dtstingushed  chieftain.  His 
valorous  achievements,  unyielding  pa- 
triotism, and  determined  perseverance, 
have  ever  been  tha  favourite  theme 
of  his  countrymen.  With  every  allow- 
ance for  national  predilection,  and  ta 
none  is  a  greater  deduction  reqnisife, 
t^an  to  the  characteristic  feeling  of 
North  Britons,  we  may  still  with  Hume, 
consider  his  <<  exploits  as  lasting  obt 
jects  of  just  admiration."  The  event 
to  which  we  have  alluded  is  thus  nar- 
rated by  a  modern  historian :  "  When 
the  earl  of  Warreone  advanced  to  Stir- 
ling, he  found  Wallace  encamped  in 
excellent  order  on  the  opposite  bank 
of  the  Forth.  Willing  to  try  art*  of 
negociation,  he  sent  two  friars  to  offer 
conditions  of  peace'^ — ^^  Gfo,  said  Wal- 
lace, ten  your  nuuiers^  we  came  noi 
here  to  treaty  but  to  assert  <mr  rights, 
and  to  set  Scotland  free :  k^hem 
advance y  they  toill  Jirid^ts  preStedP 

Indignant  at  this  reply,  tne  c^lish 
commanders  led  their  forces  across 
the  river;  but  although  opposed  b/ 
an  enemy  far  inferior  to  them  in  num- 
bers, they  were  at  once  routed,  and 
almost  entirely  destroyed. 


SAN  PIETRO, 
A  Corsican  general,  in  the  16tb  eentiuy. 

San  Pietro,  called  also  Ba.«telica, 
from  the  town  of  Bastia,  the  place  of 
his  birth,  in  Corsica,  was  a  celebrated 
general  in  the  French  service,  during 
the  reign  of  Francis  I,  Henry  II,  and 
Charles  IX.  He  was  born,  as  it  were, 
with  an  hereditary  hatred  to  the  Ge^ 
noese,  then  sovereigns  of  Corsica. 
From  his  infancy  he  bore  arms  against 
them,  and,  by  his  valour  a^d  i^itary 


Sl<> 


UISTOEICAL. 


skill,  became  formidable  to  tlie  repub- 
lic. His  exploits  gained  him  the  heart 
of  VaDioj  Ornano,  a  very  rich  and 
beautiful  heiress,  the  only  daughter  of 
the  viceroy  of  Corsica. 

Pietro  might  have  lived  in  tranquil- 
lity, protected  by  this  advantageous 
alliance,  had  he  not  supposed  that  the 
Genoese  never  could  pardon  his  of- 
fences. Full  of  this  imagination,  and 
of  new  schemes,  he  retired  into  France, 
with  his  Wife  and  children*  There 
he  served  the  court  very  successfully 
during  the  civil  wars ;  but  still  desirous 
of  restoring  liberty  to  his  country,  he 
was  incessantly  endeavouring  to  dis- 
turb the  Genoese.  He  even  went  to 
Constaotinople  to  solicit  the  Turks  to 
send  a  fleet  against  them. 

During  this  voyage,  the  public,  at- 
tentive to  the  proceedings  of  Pietro, 
sent  their  agents  to  his  wife,  who  was 
then  at  Marseilles,  to  induce  her  to 
return  to  her  country,  by  promising 
the  restoration  of  her  fortune,  and  giv- 
ing hopes  that  her  placing  this  confi- 
dence in  the  state  would  procure  a 
pardon  to  her  husband.  The  credu- 
lous Vanini  was  persuaded.  She  first 
sent  away  her  fumhure  and  jewels, 
and  then  set  sail,  with  her  children, 
for  Genoa.  A  friend  of  Pietro's,  re- 
ceiving early  intelligence  of  this,  armed 
a  ship,  pursued  the  fugitive,  brought 
her  back  into  France,  and  surrendered 
her  to  the  parliament  of  Aix. 

Pietro,  on  hb  return  from  Constan- 
tinople, was  informed  of  this  adven- 
ture. One  of  his  domestics,  who  had 
not  sufficient  resolution  to  oppose  it, 
he  stabbed  with  his  own  hand.  He 
then  went  to  Aix,  and  demanded  his 
wife.  The  parliament  was  unwilling 
to  trust  the  lady  in  his  power;  but  the 
beautiful  Vanini,  superior  to  fear,  al- 
though expecting  some  fatal  event, 
earnestly  solicited  to  be  restored  to  her 
husband.  Her  request  was  cranted, 
and  they  set  out  together  for  Marseil- 
les. When  Pietro  came  to  his  own 
house,  he  found  it  unfurnished.  This 
■-  sight  roused  his  fury.  Without  de- 
parting from  the  respect  he  had  con-  ( 


stantly  preserved  for  his  wife,  becaoae 
her  descent  had  been  greatly  superior 
to  his,  he  reproached  her  (or  her  mis- 
conduct, declared  it  could  be  expiated 
only  by  death,  and  commanded  two 
of  his  slaves  to  execute  this  terrible 
sentence.  "  I  do  net  shrink  from  my 
fate,''  cried  the  heroic  Vanini,  ^  but 
since  I  must  die,  1  beg,  as  the  last  fa- 
vour, it  may  not  be  by  the  hands  of 
these  wretches,  but  by  that  of  the  btm- 
vest  of  men,  whose  valour  first  indn- 
ccd  me  to  espouse  him.''  The  barba- 
rian whom  nothing  could  soften,  sent 
his  executioners  away,  threw  himself 
at  the  feet  of  hb  wife,  called  her  has 
queen,  and  his  mistress,  embraced  ber 
tenderly,  implored  her  pardon  in  the 
most  humble  terms,  and  caused  their 
children  to  be  introduced.  She  em- 
braced them.  He  wept,  with  the  un- 
fortunate mother,  over  these  melao- 
choly  pledges  of  their  afi^ion,  put 
the  fatal  cord  round  her  neck,  and 
strangled  her  with  his  own  hanc^ ! 

Pietro  set  out  immediately  for  the 
court,  where  the  news  of  his  crime 
had  arrived  before  him,  and  he  was 
forbidden  to  appear.  Notwithstand- 
ing thb,  he  presented  himself  before 
the  king,  the  detestable  Charies  the 
ninth.  He  talked  of  hb  services, 
claimed  their  reward,  and  exposing  his 
naked  bosom,  which  was  full  of  scars, 
'  What  signifies  it  to  the  king,' said  the 
savage,  ^what  signifies  it  to  France, 
whether  a  good  or  a  bad  understand- 
ing subsisted  between  Pietro  and  hia 
wife?'  Every  person  was  shocked  at 
the  daring  behaviour  of  thb  maniac ; 
but,  nevertheless,  he  was  pardoned.— 
<  The  semblance  of  herobm  which  was 
joined  to  hb  guilt,'  says  the  author 
of  L'Esprit  de  la  Ligue,  <  easily 
pleaded  his  excuse  in  a  court,  where 
the  sovereign  himself  set  examples  of 
violence.'  This  murder  was  coBunit- 
ted  in  1567>  seven  years  before  the 
reign  of  Henry  HI. 

But  Pietro,  although  he  escaped  in 
the  sequel,  many  perils  of  war,  did  not 
go  to  his  gi*ave  with  impunity.  He 
jipas  slain  in  an  ambuscade  prepared 


AORICULTUItAL. 


3ir 


for  him  by  the  brojthers  of  his  irife,  the 
«iaroituaat«  Vanlni  Ornano. 

Such  was  the  detestation  in  which 
his  crime  was  held,  that  his  son  Al- 
Iboso,  afterward  a  marshal  of  France, 
and  a  distuiguished  warrior,  was  obli- 
ged to  renounce  his  paternal  name, 
and  take  chat  of  Ornano.  He  left  a 
son,  likewise  a  marshal  of  France, 
who  died  a  prisoner  in  the  castle  of 
Viiiceiuies ;  and  the  whole  family  be- 
came extinct,  about  the  middle  of  the 
su^eeoth  century. 


AGRICULTURAL. 

ON  SEED  POTATOES. 

It  may  always  be  observed  of  every 
potCUo,  tlut  in  the  end  opposite  to  that 
in  which  it  b  connected  by  its  stem 
with  the  fibrous  roots  of  the  plant,  the 
ejres  are  double  in  number  of  those  of 
the  other  end ;  and  it  may  also  be  ob- 
served, that  the  shoots  growing  from 
the  end  having  the  greatest  number  of 
eycss,  always  start  the  soonest,  and  grow 
most  rapidly:  this  circumstance,  it 
would  seem,  has  led  to  the  belief  that 
this  end  of  the  potato  only  ought  to  be 
used  for  seed,  as  being  properly  the 
aeeJ  end  of  tlie  root,  and  accordingly 
1  pereeive  a  statement  in  a  late  paper, 
published  in  New-Jersey,  that  by  recent 
experiments,  it  has  been  found,  that  to 
cut  off  about  a  third  of  this  end  of  the 
potato  for  planting,  will  afford  as  great 
a  product  as  to  plant  the  whole  root. 
If  this  be  correct,  two-thirds  of  the 
weight  of  potatoes  commonly  used  for 
seed  may  be  saved;  a  matter  of  no 
small  consequence,  as  potatoes  are 
much  more  expensive  in  the  article  of 
seed  than  any  other  crop  commonly 
cultivated. 

To  ascertain  the  tmth  of  this  mat- 
ter, let  the  cultivator  take,  say  40  po- 
tatoes, as  nearly  of  any  given  size  as 
may  be,  and  plant  them  in  a  row,  put- 
ting one  potato  (uncut)  to  each  hill ; 
take  40  more  of  as  nearly  the  same 
size  as  can  be  selected,  cut  off  the  seed 
^nd  of  each,  so  as  to  include  about  a 


third  of  a  root,  and  plant  one  of  these 
to  each  hill  in  a  row  alongside  of  the 
other  J  give  each  row  the  same  culti- 
vation ;  dig  them  separately,  and  then 
weigh  or  measure  the  products  of  each, 
and  the  result  will  be  considered  as 
pretty  conclusive. 

There  are  other  experiments,  easily 
made,  and  well  worthy  of  attention,  m 
the  culture  of  the  potato,  and  amon? 
others,  I  would  recommend  the  foi» 
lowiug. 

1.  To  ascertain  whether  it  is  most 
profitable  to  use  the  largest,  or  the 
smallest  potatoes,  faf  seed. 

2.  What  increase  of  the  crop  maj 
be  obtained  by  nipping  off  the  blos- 
soms as  soon  as  they  appear  on  the 
stalks. 

3.  To  ascertain  the  proper  qoantitj 
of  gypsum  that  is  best  adapted  for  in- 
creasing the  crop,  as  too  much  of  this 
manure  produces  a  luxurious  growth  of 
stalks,  but  not  a  crorespondent  growth 
in  the  roots. 

4.  To  ascertain  the  difference  in  pro- 
duct that  may  usually  be  expected  ia 
cultivaiing  the  different  varieties  of  the 
plaiu,  and  which,  on  the  whole,  quau- 
tity  and  quality  considered,  are  the  most 
profitable  for  culture. 

From  an  experiment  I  once  made, 
though  not  with  perfect  acciuracy,  I 
am  induced  to  believe,  that  if  a  poMh 
to,  v.T!j^hiug  not  more  than  an  ounce, 
be  planted  whole  in  a  hill,  and  an  an- 
other weighing  eight  ounces,  be  plant- 
ed whole  adjoining  it,  no  essential  di^ 
fere^ce  will  be  found  in  their  products, 

A  case  was  lately  reported  by  the 
Berkshire  Agricultural  Society,  from 
which  it  would  seem  that  an  mcrease 
of  about  a  sixth  of  the  wh<4e  amouflt 
of  a  crop  of  potatoes  may  be  obtained 
by  nipping  off  the  blossoms  as  soon  as 
they  appear  on  the  stalks.  Of  the  truth 
of  this  every  cultivator  may  easily  sa^ 
tisfy  himself. 

In  regard  to  the  use  of  gypsum,  it 
will  probably  be  found  that  merely  to 
immerse  the  seed  potatoes  in  brine,  and 
then  roll  tbem  in  gypsull^  before  plant- 
ing, is  the  mast  advantageous  method 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


318 


FOLTICAL. 


of  applying  this  mafiure  to  the  crop. 
The  brine  is  also  serviceable  in  this 
case,  as  salt  is  a  vahiable  manure  for 
potatoes.  A  little  gypsum  may  after- 
wards be  sprinkled  over  the  hills  to  ad- 
vantage, while  a  greater  quantity  might 
prove  injurious  by  causing  a  redundant 
growth  of  stalks. 

By  attention  to  these  particulars,  it 
is  believed  that  very  essential  bene6ts 
may  be  derived  in  the  culture  of  pota- 
toes.— Floughboy. 


A  PRODIGli^S  POTATO. 
There  were  taken  up  at  Galloway 
bouse,  near  Wigtown,  the  seat  of  the 
Right  Hon.  the  Earl  of  Galloway,  on 
Wednesday,  the  15th  November,  eight 
bushels  (or  eight  fifty-six  pounds)  of 
potatoes,  being  the  produce  of  one  po- 
tato, which  was  raised  last  season  in 
the  field  of  Egemess,  near  Carltes- 
town,  and  preserved  by  Mr.  Kennedy, 
gardener  to  Lord  Galloway.  The 
mother  potato,  which  was  cut  into  ma- 
ny sets,  weighed  S  lbs.  7  oz.  and  many 
of  the  offsprings  this  year  have  cer- 
tainly done  justice  to  such  an  ances- 
tor, one  weigning  5i  lbs.  another  4  lbs. 
a  third  Sk  lbs.  and  many  3  lbs.  The 
sets  were  planted  in  the  op^n  garden 
in  two  rows,  and  received  no  more  at- 
tention from  Mr.  Kennedy  than  any 
other  plant  of  the  same  species,  being 
only  once -covered  and  laid  up. 

Montreal  Herald. 


THE  HOLDERNESS  COW. 

Kecently  imported  by  Mr.  G.  W.  Feather- 
itonhaugfa. 

This  cow  is  of  that  species  of  the 
short  homed  breed  called  the  Holder- 
sess. 

They  are  of  a  large  size,  but  are 
particularly  yalued  for  the  remarkable 
quantities  of  rich  milk  which  they 
give.  It  is  on  this  account  that  the 
breed  prevails  generally  in  the  rich 
county  of  Middlesex,  for  the  supply  of 
the  city  of  London  with  a  sufficient 
quantity  of  succulent  food,  and  by 
regular  milking  three  times  a  day,  they 


yield  from  forty  to  fifty  quarts  of  milk« 
This  animal,  gave  during  an  uncom- 
mon stormy  passage  of  48  days  in  the 
lute  winter  months,  a  constant  profu- 
sion of  milk,  and  on  her  arrival  at 
New- York,  being  much  reduced  in 
flesh,  and  her  hide  extremely  wounded 
in  many  places  by  chafing  against  her 
pen,  gave  sixteen  quarts  at  one  milk- 
ing. She  remained  two  or  three  days 
in  the  city  of  Albany,  and  was  inspect- 
ed by  numerous  persons  amongst  whom 
were  some  of  the  most  respectable 
butchers  of  the  place. 

They  were  unanimously  of  oplnioif 
that  she  was  the  most  remarkable  an- 
imal they  had  ever  seen.  From  the  - 
centre  of  her  horns,  to  the  end  of  her 
buttocks  she  measures  seven  feet  aad 
a  half,  and  two  feet  three  inches  acrost 
her  hips.  Her  hide  is  mellow  to  the 
feet,  and  perfectly  silky  without  any 
Coarse  hairs.  Her  head  and  neck  are 
small  and  remarkably  graceful,  her 
ears  uncommonly  large  and  smooth, 
accompanied  with  a  singular  transpa- 
rency. Her  carcase  is  well  barrelled 
out  and  compact:  her  legs  and  tail 
corresponding  in.  fitness  to  her  bead 
and  neck.  The  batchers  who  inspect- 
ed her,  observed,  that  they  never  sai^ 
any  animal  with  ao  little  ofial.  She 
was  judged  to  weigh  twelve  hundred 
if  in  condition.  She  was  selected  from 
the  first  stock  in  England,  and  is  with 
calf  by  the  descendant  of  the  famous 
bull  Comet,  who  sold  for  a  thousand 
guineas.  She  is  at  present  removed  to 
the  farm  of  the  proprietor  in  Dtianes* 
burgh,  who  expects  a  bull  of  the  same 
breedin  the  course  of  the  spring. 

PUmghboy* 


POETICAL 


FoK  THE  Masonic  Rxgister. 

TO  SPRING. 

Forth  came  the  genius  of  the  southern  sin. 

Diffusing  wide  the  pow'rs  of  genial  warmth 

And  vi^ur  new,  tnrougfa  aii  the  walks  of 

life.— 
I  saw   him  on  the  whirlwind's  ^ddyin^ 

VergCrigitized  by  Google 


POETICAL. 


SI9 


His  im  oatitretch'd,  be  by  a  frosty  lock 
Se»*d  the  rude  demon  of  the  raging  stormy 
Shook  him,  hoarse  bellowing,  from   his 

throne  of  clouds, 
And  hurl'd  him   roaring   to  the  utmost 

north, 
Where    dwells   eternal    discord;    dreary 

realms 
To  life  and  order  equally  unknown  : 
The  fr^d  wasting  steps  of  winter  hoar. 
With  cU>ttds  and  tempests  blust'riog  in  his 

rear, 
Northward  withdrew  their  desolating 

course 
Before  the  vivifying  steps  of  Spring. 
Hail,  child  of  geqtier  bree&es,  lovely 

Spring ! 
vTfae  Kmpid  streams,  fast  bound    in    icy 

chains 
BMme  at  their  oozy  founts,  a  crystal  rock, 
By  thee  are  loosened,  and  meand'rtng  flow 
To  pay   their  tribute  to  the  vales  and 

meads ; 
The  veins  of  vegetable  life  at  thy  approach 
Spring  with  coagulable  juices,    and  the 

green 
Imresliture  of  nature  spreads  abroad 
Through  all  the  leafy  regions  of  thy  reipt. 
The  smiling  vernal  nymphs  come  peeping 

forth 
hi  the  meek  innoeenee  of  youth  array'd.^ — 
But  £fBt  of  Florals  pure  unspotted  tctin, 
The  Snowdrop  and  Narcissus  usher  So 
Thy  mild  and  gentle  steps,  O  Spring ; 
The  mellow  warbling,  and  tne  cheerful 

notes 
Of  pare  harmonious  concord  from  each 

grove, 
Bf  ioT  and  love  inspired  invite  thee  on : — 
Am  iball  not  man  participate  the  Joy, 
The  pore,  unblam'd,  exhilarating  bliss 
Which  thoQ  diffusest  through  toe  moss  of 

life, 
And  join  the  choir,  whose  universal  voice 
Breathes  forth  a  general  anthem  to  the 

praise 
Of  hUn,  whose  providence  walks  through 

the  year 
1h  varied  seasons,  good  alike  in  all. 

PBtLOS. 


For  tbx  Masonic  Reoistxk. 

THE  ZEPHYR. 

Go  gentle  breeee,  and  bear  the  sigh. 
That  swells  my  heart,  to  Anna's  ear; 
As  thou  on  her  bosom  chaste. 
Envied  Zephyr,  sportive  play'st, 
I<eave  its  soft  impression  there.^- 
^  0 !  dim  not  her  peariv  eye 
J^  the  soft  dew-drop  of  a  tear ; 
a  in  her  breast  arise  one  sigh, 
"Wr,0  hftar  it  to  my  ear. 


Fom  TBp  Masovic  Bcoistzr. 
STANZAS. 

AIR— H3ARLA>0   OF   LOVE. 


Oh 


fair  are  the  white  gems  that  frisk  00 

the  storm-wave. 
And  fah*  are  the  rose  leaves  that  bum  on 

its  shore ; 
And  fair  are  the  willows  that  skirt  on  the 

warm  grave, 
But  fairer  the  meek-eyed   young  girl    I 

adore. 
Then  I'll  clasp  a  mild  cbaplet  from  Pas- 
sion's bloom  bowers, 
Pure  and    sweet   as    the  sea  wind  that 

mourneth  on  flowers, 
For  the  fond  and  tiie  m^k-eyed  young  gi^l 

I  adore.  I 

Tho'  I'm  dear  to  a  thousand  blue  eyes  that 

are  weeping, 
And  many  a  spirit  is  aching  for  me ; 
Tho*  my  sigh^  In  the  flash  of  their  tears  are 

now  steeping, 
Yet  Mai7  is  surely  the  dearest  to  me. 
Then  I'll  clasp  a  mild  chaplet,  &lc. 

For  her  soul  is  the  shrine  of  the  holiest 
feelings 

That  ever  breath'd  heaven  on  woman  be- 
low; 

Where  virtue  hath  witness'd  love's  warm- 
est revealings, 

That  promise  to  sweeten  my  trouble  below- 
Then  ril  clasp  a  warm  chaplet,  kc. 

Oh  when  all  life's  ills  see  the  cloud-set  of 

sorrow, 
Thb  mad  pulse  is  still,  and  tlib  kind  heart 

blow ; 
From  the  memory  of  what  I  was  oft  may 

she  borrow 
A  hope  for  her  tears  and  a  rest  for  her  wo. 
J^ew-York,  Oct.  7/A,  1820. 


A  SIAIILE  FOR  THE  LADIES. 

In  limpid  streams  a  thousand  forms  we  spy, 
Wluch  raise  amazement  in  the  wondering 

eye; 
Whate'er  of  beauty  on  their  borders  grows. 
The  floating  glass  in  its  fair  bosom  shows  -. 
The  pride  of  every  grove  together  meets. 
And  charms  us  with  a  wilderness  of  sweets. 
Lo!   with  impetuous  force  a  dreadful 

shower 
In  torrents  falls,  and  blots  out  every 

flower. 


Such  is  the  fate  of  woman.    Oft  we  find 
A  thousand  graces  in  one  body  join'd  ; 
A  faultless  shape,  a  skm  of  snowy  hue, 
AU  that  is  lovely,  tempting,    " 

true, 
A  dei^  cont'd,  •  Venus  i 


body  join  d  ; 
'  snowy  hue,     ^ 
ig,  chaste,  and  i 

I  form'd  anew.  J 


S20 


POETICAL. 


Comet  baneful  sickness,  with  its  numer- 
ous host. 
The  bright,  ecstatic  scene  at  once  Is  tost. 


nU>M  THK  HATSRHILL  OAZKTTE. 

TO  HOPE. 

Auspicious  Hone !  Thou  Sprite  benigii ! 
Blest  inmate  ot  the  peaceful  mind ! 
Thy  soothing  pow'r  elates  with  joy, 
The  wretch,  deep-sunk  in  poverty  ; 
Thy  radiant  beams  illume  the  mind, 
In  wisdom  taught,  by  arts  refin'd 
•Tis  thou  canst  smooth  the  brow  of  care  ; 
Dispel  the  fear  of  bleak  despair  ; 
Raise  from  the  eart||  the  wretch  foriorn, 
And  point  his  way  To  spheres  oukuown. 
Withm  the  precincts  oi  a  cell. 
Thy  blissful  presence  e'er  dost  dwell ; 
The  guilty  murd'rer's  piercioe  groans, 
By  thee  are  chang'd  to  wistlul  toncb  ; 
His  raging  breast,  surcharged  with  grief, 
inspired  by  thee,  now  finds  relief. 
Offspring  of  Heav'n  !  bereft  of  thee, 
Severe,  though  just,  man's  destiny — 
Dooui'd,  thro'    eartli's   ban'en    wilds,  to 

roam  ; 
?(o  shelter  from  th*  impending  storm  : 
Terrific  vuions  haunt  the  mind, 
Immers'd  in  gloom — to  virtue  blind. 
But  cheer'd  by  draughts  of  heav'uly  love, 
Life's  greater  ills,  rich  blessings  prove. 
Let  envy's  base,  envenom 'd  darts-* 
Oppression  bold — suspicion's  arts — 
False  friendship,  hatred,  all  conspire, 
Those  j'jys  annoy,  thou  deis;'nst  inspire : 
As  well  may  man  restrain  in  height, 
Imagination's  tow'ring  flighty. 
i>r  seek  to  chain  that  mind  to  earth, 
Aspiring,  though  of  humble  birth. 
Should  rumbling  thunders  deep  resound, 
And  vivid  lightnings  glare  around; 
Should  yawning  earthquakes   mountains 

rend. 
And  furious  whirlwinds  heav'n-ward  tend ; 
Fair  nature's  realm  in  ruin  lie, 
And  chaos  reign  triumphantly — 
Hope  smiles  !  still  pndismay'd  their  pow'r 

defies; 
Her  eye  intent  on  joys  beyond  the  skies ; 
Faith  prompts  her  flight,  while  Heav'n 

awards  the  pr'tEe. 


THE  HAFPV  MAN. 

Happy  th«  man !  whose  tranc|uil  mind 
Sees  nature  in  her  changes  kmd, 

And  pleas'd  the  whole  purveys ; 
For  him  the  morn  benignly  smiles, 
And  evening  shades  rewanj  the  toils, 

That  measure  out  his  days. 
The  varymg  year  may  shift  the  scene, 
The  sounding  tempests  lash  the  main, 

And  heaven's  own  thunders  roll ; 


Calmly  he  sees  the  bursting  storm. 

Tempests  nor  thunder  can  deform 

The  morning  of  his  soul. 


LITERARY. 
The  6rst  Number  of  Companion 
Woodworth's  Literary  Casket  has 
made  its  appearance,  from  the  press  of 
Companion  Charles  N.  Baldwin,  eon- 
bracing  the  various  subjects  memioned 
in  our  last.  It  is  handsomely  printed, 
and  is  accompanied  with  an  elegant 
copperplate  engraving,  and  several 
wood  devices. 


TO   CORRKSPOIIDKIVTS. 

The  eicellent  Address,  by  Brother  W. 
DoANf  Esq.  is  received,  but  too  late  for  this 
Number;  it  may  be  expected  in  our neit. 

HiftAM  Abiff,  from  Pittsbnrgli,  was  also 
received  too  late  for  publication  this  month. 

J"**^**,  complaining  of  ihe  injnatke  of  a 
brother,  cannot  i»e  admKted  The  reasons 
why,  are  obvious,  and  will  easily  be  per- 
ceived by  the  writer,  on  reflection.  We 
pei-fectly  coincide  with  him  in  opinion  re- 
lative  to  civil  salts  between  brethren  of 
the  fraternity  ;  but  roust  beg  leave  to  dhia- 
gree  witli  him  on  other  points. 

The  £ditor  respecttullv  solicits  an  hh 
terview  with  the  brother  who  coromunicft- 
ted  the  ancient  documents,  **  concerning 
the  Mason  Oath,"  published  in  this  Nuqh 
bcr. 

The  several  favours  of  our  roost  excel- 
lent companions  the  grand  high  priest,  and 
deputy  grand  high  priest  of  the  grand  chap- 
ter of  Kentucky,  are  thankfully  received. 
We  also  acknowledge,  with  gratitude,  the 
receipt  of  the  proceedmgsof  the  grand  lodge 
of  Indiana,  and  the  proceedings  of  the 
grand  chapter  of  Connecticut,  together 
with  two  valuable  discourses,  one  by  com- 
panion Asa  Meech,  and  the  other  by  bro- 
ther William  Burke. 

Brother  Johu  Dean*8  letter,  dated  Bath, 
Upper  Canada,  March  24,  enclosing  a  list 
ot  the  chapters  and  lodges  in  that  province, 
together  with  a  list  of  subscribers  for  the 
Register,  was  received  just  as  the  last  sheet 
of  this  Number  was  gohig  to  press.  Bro- 
ther Dean  will  please  to  accept  our  sincere 
thanks,  in  behalf  of  hmiself  and  the  other 
brethren  who  have  honoured  our  subscrip- 
tion list  with  their  names ;  and  we  aanire 
our  Canadian  brethren  in  general,  that  any 
thing  relative  to  the  fraternity,  on  their  side 
of  the  water,  will  always  be  nratefaUy  re- 
ceived, and  cheerfully  inserted. 

HOYT  L  BOLMORE,   PRINTERS, 
70  Bowery,  New-York. 


THE 


AMERICAN  MASONIC  REGISTER, 

AND 

Ladies'  and  Gentlemen^s  Magazine. 


BY  LUTHER  PRATT. 


Happf  istbe  man  that  findeth  wisdom,  and  the  man  that  gettetb  miderstandio^:  For  (he 
merchandise  of  H  is  better  than  the  merchandise  of  silver,  and  the  gain  thereof  than 
fine  gold.  SoLouoN. 


[No.  IX.] 


FOR  MAY,  A.  D.  1821.  A.  L.  ."iSai. 


[Vol.  I.] 


MASONIC. 


For  ths  Masonic  Rkgistkr. 

BaoTHSR  Pratt, 

I  have  been  permitted  by  the  author, 
to  take  a  copy  of  tbe  following  Ad- 
dress, which,  should  you  deem  it  wor- 
thy of  the  space  it  would  occupy  io 
your  interesting  Register j  you  are  at 
liberty  to  publish.  With  cordial  res- 
pect, and  fraternal  affection, 
I  am.  Sir, 

Yours, 
William  6.  Thrall. 
Chrdeviaiej  Okioy 
Marchj  1821. 

AN  ADDRESS 

Delivered  by  Brother  G.  W.  Doan, 
Esq.  at  Circleville,  (Ohio)  on  the 
24th  of  June,  A.  L.  5818,  on  tlie 
celebration  of  that  day,  by  Pickaway 
Lodge,  No.  23. 

Rbspbcted  Hearbrs, 
You  ask,  why  this  assemblage  on 

this  day?    Why  these  trappings,  and 

why  this  band  of  brothers  separated 

fron^  the  community  ? 
We  answer,  this  day,  to  us,  is  holy. 

We  observe  it  in  commemoration  of 

the  virtues  and  character  of  our  early 

R 


patron,  St.  John.  We  have  convened, 
to  pay  a  tribute  of  respect  due  to  his 
sacred  memory.  It  was  the  day  of  his 
birth. 

You  again  ask,  why  clad  in  these 
emblematical  vestments?  Why  these 
badges?  We  answer,  to  exhibit  to 
the  world  our  high  calling ;  to  shew, 
that  as  there  is  an  uniformity  in  them, 
so  there  should  be  in  our  characters  : 
that  our  morals  should  be  as  spotless 
as  the  lambs  skin;  our  hearts,  pure 
and  mild  as  the  blue  vault  of  heaven. 
To  each  of  our  emblems,  is  attached 
an  important  moral  lesson.  By  them, 
we  are  constantly  reminded  of  our  du- 
ty, aim,  and^nd.  They  are  vivid  bea- 
cons, constantly  throwing  tlicir  light 
upon  the  Mason's  path ;  pointing  out 
his  danger,  and  directing  him  to  his 
destined  port.  Though  silent,  yet  to 
Mm,  they  speak  a  language  more  for- 
cible than  words;  admonitions  more 
solemn  than  ever  issued  from  human 
lips.  If  he  give  ear  to  them,  it  is  well ; 
if  not,  we  can  only  mourn  over  the 
frailty  of  human  nature. 

Our  badges  bespeak  the  station  the 
wearer  holds  in  the  Lodge.  Order 
and  harmony  pervade  the  works  of 
Deity ;  so  should  they  of  man.  With- 
out them,  the  moral,  like  the  natural 


S2t 


,    MAtONIC. 


world,  would  eihibit  a  scene  of  con- 
AuioD,  anarchy,  and  chaos.  Hence, 
in  every  association,  some  must  lead, 
direct,  and  govern.  That  brothers 
may  know  tbese,  a  the  object  of  our 
badges. 

A  more  important  inquiry  follows: 
What  l^  the  design,  object  and  utility 
of  the  Masonic  institution  ?  If  these 
are  not  good,  all  the  rest  is  vain  show, 
idle  ostentation. 

Man,  in  his  primeval  state,  required 
no  props  to  sustain  his  virtue ;  no  ex- 
citements to  awaken  his  benevolence. 
He  ate  the  forbidden  fruit ;  at  that  nH> 
roent  a  moral  death  ensued :  then  evil 
^rang  up  in  his  heart ;  vice  became  a 
part  of  his  composition.  With  these, 
came  haggard  misery :  cruelly,  crime, 
fraud  and  violence  followed.  Paradise 
was  changed  to  a  hell ;  man  to  a  sav- 
age. Still  there  remained  in  his  heart, 
some  seeds  of  his  former  virtue;  some 
portion  of  that  Divine  spirit,  which 
once  wholly  inspired  him,  still  glowed 
in  his  bosom.  To  cultivate  these  seeds, 
to  cherish  and  invigorate  this  spirit, 
was  the  design  of  our  institution. — 
With  whom  the  design  originated,  we 
we  cannot  say.  The  institution  pro> 
bably  had  its  origin  in  Asia,  where  sci- 
ence first  dawned;  where  man  first 
emerged  from  the  low  estate  to  which 
he  had  fallen.  The  broken  column, 
the  lofty  pyramid,  the  ruined  cities, 
bespeak  the  industry  and  the  civiliz% 
Vion  of  the  early  people  of  that  coun- 
try;  so  the  sublime  morab,  the  elegant 
language,  the  beautiful  allusions  of  Ma- 
sonry, bespeak  their  genius,  and  their 
benevolence.  So  early  was  Masonry 
founded,  that  the  date  of  its  origin  is 
veiled  from  human  ken :  no  record,  no 
tradition  hath  transmitted  it  down. — 
No  human  eye  hath  pierced  the  dark- 
ness of  that  period.  But  it  bears  the 
venerated  impress  of  the  remotest  ages. 
We  discover  in  it,  marks  of  Egyptian 
antiquity ;  we  note  in  it  too,  some  pe- 
ailiar  features  of  the  Israelites. 

In  ks  plan,  it  combines  all  that  is 
sublime  in  morals,  great  in  design,  or 
grand  in  object.    It  has  caught  and 


preserved  all  those  grand  moral  max* 
ims,  which  have  been  taught  the  hu- 
man family,  in  that  loug  succession  of 
ages.  It  has  contrived  an  universal 
language.  No  matter  whether  the 
wanderer  be  taught  in  Europe,  Asia, 
Africa,  or  America;  if  he  meet  a  bro* 
ther  Mason,  he  can  converse  with  hioi 
in  friendship  and  confidence;  he  can 
make  known  his  wants;  he  can  gel 
relief.  In  such  a  world  as  this,  filled 
with  hate  and  envy ;  virtue  and  inno- 
cence, wherever  found,  require  protec- 
tion. They  are.  the  same,  whether 
veiled  under  an  Ethiopean,  Indian,  or 
European  skin.  No  matter  whether 
their  accents  fall  in  the  Sanscrit,  the 
Arabic,  the  Russian,  or  the  English 
language ;  if  they  have  the  language 
of  Masonry,  they  will  be  understo<Sl, 
cherished  and  protected.  Thus  the 
curse  that  fell  upon  the  human  race, 
at  Bahel's  awful  tpwer,  is  measurably 
removed.  Masonry,  then,  has  for  iU 
object,  the  mitigation  of  the  two  grand 
curses  that  have  befallen  our  species : 
one  at  the  fall  of  Adam,  and  one  at  the 
building  of  Babel. 

Do  you  ask  for  proof  of  this  ?  ( 
would  point  to  you  the  inhospitable 
coast  of  Algiers.  There  you  see  the 
galley-slave,  loaded  with  chains,  and 
tugging  at  the  oar.  In  anguish,  be 
casts  his  dispairing  eye  around  him: 
is  there  none  to  understand  that  look  ? 
Yes;  it  catches  the  eye  of  a  brother 
Mason:  thrilling  with  transport,  h^ 
flies  to  his  relief;  he  redeems  him ;  be 
sends  him  home,  to  the  bosom  of  a 
joyful  family.*    Turn  to  the  burning 

*  The  redemption  of  captain  Riley  sod  his 
companions,  by  the  benevolent  Wiluhbe,  at 
Mogadore,  has  been  much  admired  by  the 
uninitiated  ;  they  could  not  nadecstaikl  that 
Rilev  and  Winshire  were  Masons ;  and  that 
by  this  secret  bond,  Riley  obtained  that  ai4 
and  friendship,  which  every  Mason  in  Vkm 
circumstances,  was  bound  to  give  him. — 
Daily  instanccjtf  of  a  similar  nature  occsK* 
which  astonish  those  who  cannot  disci^ni 
the  secret  canse.  But  it  b  unbecoming  oiii 
institution,  to  trumpet  them  forth.  To  do 
their  doty,  and  not  to  boast  of  it,  H  the 
pride  of  worthy  Maipi|%  aod  jpculi^ted  bf 
Masonry.      igitized  by  GoOglC 


MASOKIC. 


92S 


deserts  of  Arabia,  to  the  rugged  wilds 
of  Tartary ;  you  see  the  lonely,  pen- 
sive wanderer,  viewing  his  fellow  man 
as  a  deadly  enemy  :  you  see  him  arm- 
ed id  shed  his  blood :  a  stranger  meets 
his  eye,  furiously  he  rushes  upon  him ; 
suddenly  he  discovers  he  is  a  brother 
MasoD ;  his  look  of  fury  is  changed 
to  that  of  joy — his  weapons  fall  harm- 
less from  his  hands — he  embraces 
him  as  a  friend  !  View  vour  battle- 
fields You  see  the  hostile  ranks  im- 
petuously rushing  upon  each  other; 
yoa  hear  the  clashing  of  arms,  the 
groans  of  the  dying :  you  see  one  aim- 
ing his  deadly  weapon  at  the  heart  of 
the  other;  suddenly  he  desists — his 
countenance  changes — he  smiles  in 
kindness  upon  his  victim.  You  in- 
quire the  cause;  he  discovers  they 
are  brother  Masons.  Thus  has  Ma- 
sonry, from  time  immemorial,  strove 
to  promote  humanity,  to  inculcate 
morality,  and  to  assuage' the  miseries, 
which,  in  ten  thousand  shapes,  afflict 
our  species.  The  stranger,  if  a  Ma- 
son, finds  a  home  in  every  lodge,  a 
friend  in  every  brother.  If  naked,  he 
is  clothed ;  if  hungry,  fed  ;  if  in  pris- 
on, visited  and  relieved.  Does  he 
want  money,  it  is  given  him ;  does  he 
want  the  aid  of  friends,  he  need  look 
no  further.  Though  in  adversity,  de- 
serted and  calumniated  by  the  un- 
grateful world,  yet  here  he  shall  find 
friends,  who  will  cleave  to  him  closer 
ihan  natural  brothers. 

These  duties,  it  is  true,  we  owe  to 
^1  mankind ;  and  towards  all  Masons 
are  taught  to  exercise  them.  But  we 
liave  no  pledge  against  imposition. 
With  our  limited  means,  our  bounty 
most  be  confined  to  the  worthy ;  they 
alone  have  imperative  claims  upon  us ; 
it  behoves  us,  therefore,  to  ascertain 
them.  This  is  another  object  of  our 
institution.  If  one  be  a  Mason,  it  is 
to  us  conclusive  evidence  that  he  is 
worthy  of  our  aid.  Though  we  are 
sometimes  deceived,  yet  this  only 
proves  that  poor  human  nature  is  heir 
to  frailty,  that  nothing  human  is  per- 
fect*   Among  the  twelve  disciples  of 


our  Saviour  was  found  one  traitor; 
why  then  should  we  be  stigmatized,  if 
a  few  are  found  occasionally  lurking 
amongst  us?  If  HE  could  not  find 
perfection  among  mankind,  less,  cem 
tainly^  should  it  be  demanded  of  us. 
No  human  means,  however,  could 
iQore  eflectually  guard  against  impo- 
sition. Such,  in  brief,  is  the  design 
and  object  of  Masonry,  its  polar  star, 
its  grand  secret ;  to  feed  the  hungry, 
to  clothe  the  naked,  to  console  the  af- 
flicted, to  stimulate  virtue,  to  curb  the 
angry  passions,  to  humanize  the  spe- 
cies ;  to  inculcate  charity,  benevo- 
lence, friendship  and  philanthropy, 
and  to  adore  the  Deity. 

You  ask  if  it  has  this  eflfect  ?  We 
answer,  this  is  its  tendency.  Though 
we  cannot  tell  what  would  have  been 
the  situation  of  our  species  without 
this  institution,  yet,  next  to  Chris- 
tianity, we  believe  it  has  beeq,  the 
most  operative  instrument  in  cultiva- 
ting, civilizing,  and  humanizing  the 
species.  It  operates  with  a  secret, 
unseen,  and  powerful  force ;  it  moveft 
with  the  silence  of  the  light  of  heaven^ 9, 
it  diflfuses  its  genial  warmth  ;  it  invig- 
orates, vivifies,  and  enlightens  the  iiu- 
man  intellect,  with  a  force  not  inferior. 
Its  maxims  are  constantly  gaining 
ground :  princes  and  nations  assent  to 
their  soundness :  if  fully  adopted,  war 
would  cease,  or  los0  half  its  horrors  ; 
J.  "  the  sword  would  be  beaten  into  the 
^  ploughshare,  and  the  spear  into  the 
pruning-hook.*'  Man  would  forget 
his  enmity,  and  look  upon  his  fellow 
man  as  a  brother.  He  would  pour 
the  oil  of  consolation  into  the  wounds 
of  affliction ;  he  would  cause  the  or- 
phan to  forget  his  loss,  the  widow  to 
smile,  and  the  weary,  destitute  wan- 
derer, to  rejoice.  When  chained  to 
the  stake,  surrounded  by  savages,  and 
the  flames  gathering  around  him,  how 
was  our  Putnam  r^oiced  at  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  brother  Mason !  Though 
a  stranger,  of  another  country  and 
language,  yet  he  discovered  Putnam 
was  a  brother.  Swift  as  lightning  he 
I  flew  %Q  bis  rfjUef  5  he  quenched  the 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC  i 


324 


BftASOMC. 


fireS;  he  aoloosed  the  cords  that  bound 
him,  and  embraced  him  as  a  friend. 
Numberless  other  instances  we  might 
cite  to  prove  the  utility  of  Masonry, 
but  we  are  enjoined  <^  not  to  let  our 
right  hand  know  what,  our  left  hand 
doeth/'  but  to  let  our  conduct  and 
actions  speak  for  themselves,  that  the 
omniscient  eycj  which  looks  down 
from  the  temple  above,  may  reward  us 
openly. 

Yet,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  this 
institution,  so  humane  in  its  design, 
so  mild  and  peaceful  iil  its  move- 
ments, has  excited  the  suspicions,  the 
envy,  and  the  censure  of  mankind.  It 
is  little  consolation  to  us  to  reflect, 
that  Christianity  has  done  the  same ; 
that  its  disciples  too,  have  had  their 
persecutors  and  calumniators.  We 
could  weep  in  silence  over  this  de- 
pravity of  the  human  heart,  and  forget 
its  consequences.  But  these  asper- 
sions, "  based  on  empty  air,"  we  are 
anxious  to  refute  and  silence. 

We  have  been  accused  of  being  <fi«- 
organizing  and  factious.  Where  is 
the  evidence  of  this  ?  Is  it  in  the  good 
oirder,  subordination,  and  perfect  gov- 
ernment of  our  lodges?  Is  it  to  be 
found  in  the  mild  maxims  of  benevo- 
lence, philosophy  and  philanthropy 
which  are  there  taught  ?  Or  is  it  in 
our  lives  and  conduct  that  this  is  dis- 
covered ?  Doubtless  there  have  been 
Masons  who  were  factious,  but  did 
their  proportion  exceed  that  of  other 
bodies  of  men  ?  What  government 
have  they  disturbed  ?  What  people 
have  they  excited  to  commotion  ? 
Some  malignant  writers  of  the  French 
revolution  have  accused  us.  The 
bigotted  emperor  of  Austria,  the  de- 
testable and  sanguinary  inquisition  of 
Spain  still  persecute  us.  We  could 
well  exclaim  ander  such  rule,  <<the 
only  post  of  honour  is  a  private  sta- 
tion." We  might  pride  ourselves  in 
being  persecuted  by  them ;  we  might 
hold  it  up  to  the  worid  as  the  strong- 
est proof  of  the  purity  of  our  maxims 
and  conduct.  We  might  trinmphaiit- 
ly  exclaim,  it  is  our  love  of  mankind 


that  has  alarmed  their  fears :  they  ev- 
idently shew,  that  they  believe  us  a 
barrier  between  them  and  absolute 
despotism.  They  fear  that  we  stand 
between  them  and  the  people,  to  pro- 
tect the  rights  of  the  latter. 

In  France,  when  the  whirlwinds 
and  tempests  of  revolution  overturned 
every  institution,  venerable  for  its  an- 
tiquity, or  lovely  for  its  purity,  how 
could  we  expect  to  escape  ?  When  the 
pestilential  breath  of  the  storm  reach- 
ed and  polluted  every  thing  pure  in 
morals,  or  sacred  in  character,  how 
could  our  institution  stand  unaffected  ? 
Malignant,  envious  pollution  would 
cry  out  she  had  seized  us ;  slie  would 
glory  in  destroying  what  she  could  not 
corrupt. 

Does  the  persecution  of  us  in  Aus- 
tria and  Spain  furnish  any  proof  of  our 
factious  disposition  ?  From  Austria 
we  have  heard  no  whispers  of  dangjer  ; 
not  a  breeze  has  wafted  to  us  the  ac- 
cents of  complaint.  How  then  could 
the  Masonic  institution  be  plotting  in- 
jury to  that  government  ?  It  was  false. 
The  monks  deceived  her  monarch: 
our  enemies  have  caught  him  in  their 
toils.  We  cannot  join  hands  with 
corruption  or  oppression.  With  ihe 
haters,  persecutors,  and  oppressors  of 
man,  we  can  hold  no  communion  : 
hence  we  have  become  obnoxious  to 
the  inquisition. 
Why  are  there  no  complaints  against 
I  us  from  turbulent  England,  suflerhng 
Ireland,  or  injured  Fi-ance  ?  countries 
where  the  language  of  faction  is  loud- 
er; where  the  materials  for  its  sup- 
port are  more  abundant  than  in  any 
other :  In  these  countries,  why  do  we 
not  hear  complaints  of  the  cabals,  the 
intrigues,  and  the  factious  of  Mason- 
ry? Because  there  are  none.  In  these 
United  States,  where  there  are  more 
than  six  hundred  lodges;  where  the 
proportion  of  Masons  exceeds  that  of 
any  other  country ;  where  party-spirit 
runs  higher  than  in  any  other,  why  do 
we  never  hear  the  voice  of  complaint  ? 
It  is  because  there  are  no  grounds  for 
such  complaints;  and^here,  the  people 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MASONIC. 


32!^ 


are  too  liberal  aod  enlightened^  to  sus- 
pect an  institution,  which  has  number- 
ed among  its  members  and  patrons,  a 
Putnam,  a  Warren,  a  Franklin,  a 
Washington,  and  a  long  list  of  worthies, 
to  whom  they  are  indebted  for  their 
liberties  and  their  happiness.  No; 
when  the  Mason  enters  the  lodge,  he 
treads  upon  consecrated  ground:  he 
leaves  the  sandals  of  his  feet,  his  poli- 
tics, his  prejudices,  his  ambition,  at 
the  portal.  His  angry  passions  are 
subdued;  the  raging  of  the  lion  is 
soothed  to  the  gentleness  of  the  lamb. 
None  but  feelings  of  benevolence, 
friendship  and  philanthropy,  can  here 
legally  find  place. 

Our  institution  has  abo  been  accused 
of  being  subversive  of  Christianity : 
what!  an  institution  blended  with  the 
Christian  history;  based  u^^on  Chris- 
tian maxims,  subversive  of  Ckristian- 
iiy  ?  An  institution,  embracing  among 
its  patrons  the  early  saints,  and  the 
modem  clergy,  subversive  of  Chris- 
tianity ?  Think  you  that  Locke  and 
Washington  would  not  have  denounced 
it,  if  this  allegation  were  true  ?  Think 
you,  that  the  numerous  host  of  pious 
Chrbtians,  who  have  enrolled  them- 
selves among  Masons,  would  not,  long 
since,  have  abandoned  and  denounced 
such  an  institution  ?  Do  you  Relieve 
that  it  could  have  triumphed,  over  the 
fall  of  every  other  fabric,  both  mate- 
rial and  moral,  if  it  embraced  such 
principles  ?  Those  stupendous  works, 
which  once  excited  the  astonishment 
and  admiration  of  the  world,  Itave 
crumbled  into  dust ;  the  gnawing  tooth 
of  time  has  demolished  all  coeval  with 
thb  institution ;  yet  this,  '^joining  the 
TJgoar  of  youth  to  the  maturity  of  age, 
outlives  their  glory,  and  mourns  their 
faU :''  could  this  have  been,  if  it  em- 
braced such  principles.'*  No;  no.  It 
would  long  since  have  sunk  under  the 
curtain  of  oblivion.  The  best  test  of 
the  soundness  of  its  principles,  is,  its 
durability,  its  general  progress,  and  its 
Kesent  floftrishiiig  state.  Masons,  we 
jwe  sorry  to  confess,  have  often  proved 
"*1  humai^  beings.     So  have  Chri?- 


tiaf^s :  yet  it  would  be  very  unfair  and 
unreasonable,  to  conclude  from  this, 
that  the  principles  of  Masonry  or 
Christianity  were  bad.  When  human 
nature  arrives  to  perfection,  then  inay 
societies  be  formed,  whose  members 
will  be  free  from  reproach.  Until  then, 
we  must  be  content  in  rendering  them 
as  perfect  as  possible.  Time  will  not 
permit  that  we  should  further  unveil 
the  beauties,  or  answer  the  reproaches 
upon  Masonry.  This  we  assure  you 
is  but  a  feeble  and  imperfect  sketch, 
though  true  and  faithful. 

Worshipful  Master^  Respected  offi- 
cerSy  and  beloved  Brethren — On  this 
natal  day  of  our  sainted  brother,  it  be- 
hoves us  to  call  to  mind  the  virtues  of 
that  bright  constellation  of  worthies, 
who  have  adorned  odr  institution: — 
though  many  of  them  have  been  raised 
to  that  Grand  Lodge  above,  "from 
whose  bourne  no  traveller  returns;" 
yet  their  names  and  their  bright  exam- 
ples live.  Let  us  honor  them,  not  on- 
ly with  our  lips,  but  in  our  lives. — 
Though  our  course  may  not  be  as  bril- 
liant, yet  we  can  render  our  hearts  as 
pure  as  theirs.  Though  it  may  not 
be  marked  by  the  dazzlrog  blaze  of  the 
comet,  yet  we  can  shed  upon  it  the  pure 
lustre  of  the  evening  star.  This  should 
be  our  ambition,  and  our  emulation. — 
A  pure  heart,  the  germe  of  all  noble 
sentiments,  <Uhe  spring  of  all  truly 
great  and  glorious  deeds,''  should  be 
the  jewel  which  we  should  prize  above 
all  price.  In  prosperity,  or  in  adver- 
sity ;  in  peace  or  amid  perils,  we  should 
cling  to  it,  as  the  only  anchor  of  hope  ; 
the  only  ark,  which,  on  this  troubled 
and  tempestuous  sea  of  life,  will  bear 
us  sate  to  port.  This  we  may  pos- 
sess, in  the  cottage^  as  well  as  the  pa-' 
lace ;  it  is  equally  within  the  gra^  of 
the  humble  peasant,  and  the  powerful 
prince :  by  this  alone^  can  we  vindicate 
our  institution :  by  this  alone,  can  we 
gain  credit  for  our  professions. 

Let  us  rise  then,  ia  our  strength,  and 
clothe  ourselves  with  caution^ prudence 
and  wisdonu  Let  us  place  a  faithful 
tykrex  every  port^  of  our  hearts, 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


S2i 


MASONIC. 


for  the  enemy  is  subtle,  and  advaiyres 
upon  us  by  slow  and  un perceived  de- 
grees. We  must  not  flatter  ourselves, 
that  we  can  gratify  this  passion,  or  in- 
dulge this  practice,  and  go  no  further. 
We  cannot  remain  stationary:  we 
must  either  go  forward  in  the  daring 
career  of  vice,  or  retrace  our  steps, — 
So  intimately  blended  are  all  the  moral 
virtues,  that,  like  a  well  modelled  ma- 
chine, one  spring  impaired,  and  the 
whole  is  disordered.  We  may  as  well 
expect  to  pierce  one  of  the  vesicles  of 
the  heart  J  and  preserve  its  vitality,  as 
to  practise  one  vice,  and  preserve  our 
morals  in  other  respects. 

He  that  is  now  the  inexorable  mid- 
night robber,  began  by  pilfering.    The 
sottish  maniac,  who  now  infests  our 
streets,  loathsome  to  the  eye,  a  leech 
upon  the  vitals  of  society,  began  by 
taking  a  social  glass.     These,  often  re- 
peated, generated  the  habit ;  this  form- 
ed, reason  loses  her  controul;   rum, 
like  the  roaring  tornado,  sweeps  from 
him  his  property,  his  morals,  his  repu- 
tation, his  mental  facuhies.      So  it  is 
with  the  gamester :  he  first  sits  ^own 
for  amusement :  to  give  more  interest 
to  the  game,  a  small  wager  is  laid :  in 
a  little  tims  v  is  doubled,  trebled,  and 
quadrupled:  he  wins;  he  cannot,  in 
honour,  now  leave  his  companions;  his 
fortune  turns :  he  loses.     His  avarice 
is  excited ;  stung  to  the  quick  with  the 
loss,  he  is  anxious  to  regain  it :    hope 
stimulates  him  to  proceed :  he  wastes 
his  time;  he  impairs  his  health;  he 
squanders  his  property;  his  feelings 
are  racked;  his  heart  is  transformed; 
he  becomes  a  malignant  misanthrope. 
Resort  is  had  to  the  ^<  liquid  poison," 
to  restore  his  spirits,  to  drive  away  his 
ennui,  and  his  soul^orroding  care :  but 
be  has  placed  in  his  bosom  that  mdture^ 
which  "  gnaweth  without  ceasing.'' — 
No  more  the  tender  ties  of  friendship, 
soothe  or  restrain  him ;  the  lisping  ac- 
cents of  his  children,  are  no  longer 
sweet  to  his  ears;  the  imploring  tears 
of  an  aflfecttonate  wife,  only  add  p<Mg- 
tiancy  to  his  misery.     Deaf  to  their 
iotreatiesj  now  desperate  in  fortune  aiid 


in  character,  he  plunges  into  the  Aeeifi 
bosom  of  destruction,  or  rushes, "  un- 
annealed,  with  all  his  sins  upon  his 
iiead,"  into  the  presence  of  his  God. 
Let  us  then,  take  heed  to  our  steps; 
and  not  deceive  ourselves  in  the  fan- 
cied hope,  that  we  can  practise  one 
vice,  or  uidulge  one  evil  propensity, 
arid  exclaim' "  thus  far  shalt  thou  go, 
and  no  farther.'' 

No;  let  us  exemplify  and  enforce 
the  principles  of   our  institution,  by 
cherishing  and  practising  all  tlie  vir- 
tues, and  eschewing  all  the  vices,  inci- 
dent to  humanity.    Let  us  li  ve  together 
in  peace  and  harmony :  let  us  extirpate 
every  evil  passion;    let  us   nip  the 
young  shoots  of  envy,,  jealousy,  and 
anger,  that  may  spring  up  in  our  hearts, 
ere  they  become  rank  in  vigour  and 
strength.     Let  us  also  remember  our 
own  frailties,  and  hence  learn  to  for- 
give the  errors  of  a  brother :  let  us  re- 
prove him  with  gentleness :  let  us  "  in- 
scribe his  virtues  on  brass ;  his  faults 
in  water."      Let  us  beware  how  we 
suffer  the  tempest  of  passion  to  rise  in 
our  bosoms.     In  its  course,  it  wiF 
sweep  our  cork  from  its  moorings ;  h 
will  engulph  us  <<  in  the  rough  sands 
of  the  sea."     If  we  have  cause  of  of* 
fence,  let  us  "  bear  and  forbear ;  forget 
and  forgive :"  in  short,  let  us  obey  our 
grand  precept,  and  "  learn  to  subdue 
our  passioHS.^^    Thus  shall  we   sail 
down  the  stream  of  life  with  a  pros- 
perous breeze ;   and  when  arrived  at 
the  gate  of  that  "Temple  not  built 
with  hands,"  the  grim  T^ler  death, 
will  usher  us  into  that  Lodge  of  pure 
and  happy  spirits,  where  trouble  is  un- 
known, and    "the  righteous  are    at 
rest :"    So  mote  it  be. 


STATE  OF  MA90NRT  IN  UPPER 

CANADA. 

Extract  of  a  letter  from  brother  Joh:i 

Dean,  dated  Bath,  Upper  Cam  da, 

March  24, 1821. 

"  Enclosed  you  will  receive  a  fist  of 
officers,  chapters,  lodges,  &c.,  of  th* 
G.  R,  A.  C-.  of  Upper  Canada,  sf^ 

Digitized  by  VjOOQ iC 


MASONIC. 


the  Masonic  ConveiAioR.  By  giving 
it  an  insertion  in  your  valuable  work, 
Je  Masonic  Register,  (should  you 
peem  it  sufficiently  inteicsting)  you 
will  greatly  oblige  the  craft  in  this 
quarter/' 

Foa  TH«  Masonic  Rso|8tir. 

MASONIC  CONVENTION 

OP  VFTBR  CANADA,  HELD  AT  KINGSTON. 

TTiis  convention  is  composed  of  the 
Mowing  lodges,  who  entered  into  ar- 
ticiea  of  association,  adopting  tempo- 
rary regulations  for  their  government, 
■otil  a  regularly  organized  provincial 
^d  lodge  could  be  established,  un- 
«r  the  aathority  of  the  Grand  Lodge 
^England,  for  which  purpose  they 
we  petitioned  for  a  charter  for  its 
establishment.   Much  good  has  result- 
ed ffona  the  adoption  of  these  regula- 
tions.   For  a  long  time  the  lodges,  ge- 
nerally, had  been  in  a  declining  state, 
owbg  in  a  great  measure,  to  an  unfor- 
tunate division  between  the  brethren 
of  York  and  Niagara,  arising  from  the 
maovaJ  of  the  late  grand  lodge  from 
the  latter  to  the  former  place,  and  for 
a  considerable  length  of  time  after  the 
dMth  of  William  Jarvis,  Esq.,  our  late 
pwmndal  erand  master,  Masonry  was 
mfoed  to  languish.  To  remedy  these 
evils  the  convention  was  formed,  and 
we  have  reason  to  conmtulate  the 
<iaft  upon  the  salutary  effects  already 

Tienced  from  its  oieasares. 
tmr  lodge,  order  and  regularity 
have  succeeded  anarchy  and  confusion. 
A  re^atar  and  uniform  system  of  work- 
ing IS  established,  a  regular  corres- 
poodence  exists  among  the  lodges; 
ibek  internal  discipline  is  becoming 
More  strict;  tmd  the  line  is  drawn 
between  worthy  and  unworthy  Masons, 
»nA  am-  lodges  are  daily  increasing  in 


327 


and 


nspectabili^  by  the'  admission'  of 
wortky  and  respectable  members ;  and 
it  if  ceafideotly  expected  that  ere  long 
we  sMl  be  able  to  aniyyooce  the  esta- 
Mii^qypt  of  a  provincial  grand  lodge, 
bjvbich  we  hope  to^see  Masonry  in 
tUi  i^eoviace  raiaed  to  that  exalted 
sMe  IMhieb  te  p»cip}es  merit. 


Officers  of  the  ComenHouy  elected 
February^  1821. 

ZebaM.  Phillips, president; 
Samuel  Shaw,  ^     vice-presi- 

John  Batterswortb,  5        dents  2 
Rev.  William  Smart,  chaplain; 
John  Dean,  secretary ; 
Robert  Walker,  treasurer; 
William  Cottier,  M. ; 
A.  J.  Ferns,  P. ; 
C.  Zirams,  tylen 

Visiters, 

William  Campbell,  for  the  district 
of  Johnstown. 

Christian  Fry,  for  the  district  of 
Medland. 

Elisha  Rogg,  for  the  district  of  New- 
Castle. 

Josiah  Cushman,  for  the  district  of 
Home. 

Abner  Everett,  for  the  districts  of 
Gore,  London,  and  Niagara. 

Ust  of  lodges  composing  the  C(mn 
"venUon, 

^ROCKVILLE  LODOS. 

Noah  Lee,  worshipful  roaster; 
William  M.  Dunham, senior  warden; 
Martin  Dewry, junior  warden;  . 
Thomas  C.  Taplin,  secretary ; 
Parker  Webster,  treasurer; 
John  C.  Potter,  senior  deacoQ ; 
Russel  Dart,  junior  deacon ; 
James  M.  Cmu-ch,  tyler. 

KINGSTON  LODOK* 

ST.  John's  LODOE.  (Haldimand) 
Ezra  Annes,  worshipful  master; 
Benjamin  Ewing,  senior  warden; 
Caleb  Mallory,  junior  warden; 
Henry  Skinner,  secretary; 
Thomas  M.  Spalding^  treasurer. 

AODINOTON  LODOJI.    (BotL) 

John  Dean,  wosditpful  master; 
Michael  Asselshue,  senior  warden ; 
Samuel  Lockwood,  junior  warden ; 
Thomas  S.  Wood,  secretary: , 
A.  P-  Forward,  trwurc*>.Ogle 


328 


MASONIC. 


YORK  LODGE. 

Micah  Porter,  worshipful  master; 
Adna  Penfield,  senior  warden ; 
William  W.  Patterwui,  junior  warden ; 
James  Bigelow,  secretary ; 
Josiah  Cushman,  treasurer. 

BELVILLE  LODGE. 


RIDDEAU  LODGE. 

UNION  LODGE.     (Richmond,) 
John  Bradshaw,  worshipful  master; 
George  Schriver,  senior  warden ; 
John  VVindover,  junior  warden; 
Joseph  Pringle,  secretary; 
William  Sagar,  treasurer. 

JARVIS  LODGE.     (JugUStO.) 

NORTH  STAR  LODGE.    (HamiUon.) 
Elisha  Rugg,  worshipful  master; 
John  Gilchrist,  senior  warden; 
Lewis  Stiles,  junior  warden ; 
Hans  P.  Hobbs,  secretary ; 
John  Farley,  treasurer. 

WESTERN  LIGHT  LODGE. 

(NeuhMarkeL) 
Titus  Wilson,  worshipful  master; 
John  Park,  seni6r  warden ; 
Moses  Terns,  junior  warden; 
Charles  Lewis,  secretary ; 
Jacob  Gill,  treasurer. 

UNION  LODGE.      (DutldoS,) 

Nathan  TomlinsoH;  worshipful  master ; 
William  W.  Hutchinson,  sen.  warden ; 
William  Robinson,  junior  warden; 
Frederick  Dresser,  secretary; 
Samuel  Bumburger,  treasurer; 
Abner  Everett,  jr,  senior  deacon ; 
Charles  D.  Selden,  junior  deacon; 
William  Glover,  tyler. 

'  Communications,  Saturday,  on,  or 
preceding  each  full  moon. 

UN1TID  LODGE.    (Murray.) 

PRINCE  EDWARD  LODGE.     (HoUoweU.) 


MOUNT  MORIAH   LODGE» 

(Westmingler.) 
Charles  Duncombe,  worhipful  roaster; 
William  Putnam,  senior  warden; 
Gardner  Merrick,  junior  warden; 
Henry  Shenick,  secretary ; 
Joseph  House,  treasurer; 
Joshua  Putnam,  senior  dieacon ; 
Bartholomew  Swart,  junior  deacon ; 
Williams.  Sumnor,  tyler; 

Communications,  Tuesday,  on,  « 
preceding  each  full  moon. 

UNION  LODGE.     (GrifMby.) 
Robert  Nelles,  worshipful  master; 
Jonathan  Wolverson,  senior  warden ; 
John  Pettit,  Junior  warden ; 
Samuel  S.  Moore,  secretary; 
Samuel  Kitchen,  treasurer ; 
Thomas  Hewet,  senior  deacon ; 
William  Nelles,  junior  deacon; 
Pierce  Moore,  tyler. 

Communications,  Thursday,  on,  oc 
preceding  each  full  mooit; 

KING  HIRAM  LODGE.      (Oxford.) 

Reuben  Hamilton,  worshipful  master; 
Calvin  Martin,  senior  warden ; 
Silas  Williams,  junior  warden ; 
Alanson  Towsley,  secretary; 
David  Curtis, treasurer; 
Noah  Clarke,  senior  deacon; 
Jeremiah  Fuik,  junior  deacon; 
Asahel  Towsley,  tyler. 

Communications,  Tuesday,  succeed- 
ing each  full  moon. 

ROYAL  Edward's  lodge.  (JohnHown.) 

FREDERICKSBURGH  LODGE. 
HARMONY  LODGE.      (JohutOWIi.) 

UNION  LODGE.    (South  Gower.) 

MACK  AY  LODGE.      (Wolford.) 

Noah  Gifford,  worshipful  roaster; 
William  H.  Easton,  senior  warden; 
James  Mac  Leon,  junior  warden; 
Harley  Easton,  treasurer; 
John  H.  Davis,  secretary : 
John  Roche,  tyler  J  OOgle 


MASONIC. 


mg 


TSE  GRAND  MfAL  ARCH  CHAPTER 
OF  UPPER  CANADA, 

Was  fermed  at  Kingston,  27th  August, 
1818. 
Officers  elected  at  a  regular  commo- 
nicatioD,  14th  February,  1821,  forthe 

Kesent  year. 
,  £.  Ziba  M.  PhilUps,  grand  high 

priest. 
M.  E.  Jodah  Cushmko,  deputy  grand 

high  priest. 
M.  E.  Aleiander  Grant,  grand  king. 
M.  E.  Abner  Everett,  grand  secretary, 
M.  E.  Rev.  William  Smart,  grand 

chaplain. 
Bft  E.  R.  H.  Graves,  grand  marshal. 
BL  £.  John  Dean,  grand  secretary. 
M.  E.  Robert  Walker,  grand  treasurer. 
M.  £.  C.  21mBis,  grand  tyler. 


SUBORDINATE  CHAPTERS. 

frontenac, 

No.  1.  Kingston. 

Union, 

2.  Bath. 

Sussex, 

3.  Brockville. 

St.  Johns, 

4.  York. 

Fidelity, 

5.  Haldimand. 

Friendship, 

6.  Belville. 

Hi  ram, 

7.  Ancaster. 

NoT« :     The  names  of  the  officers 

of  several  of 

the  above  mentioned 

h  dges.  and  those  of  all  the  subordi- 
ntte  chapters,  were  not  received ;  but 
we  shall  with  pleasure,  give  them  a 
place  in  the  Register,  wl^aever  they 
may  come  to  hand.  ed. 

MASONIC  CHART. 
Tlie  following  extract,  is  from  a  re- 
view of  the  **  True  Masonic  Chart,  or 
Bieitiglyphic  Monitor,  by  R.  W.Jerk- 
mr  I ..  Cnoss,  G.  L.'^ ;  written  by  Wil- 
liam Gtbbes  Himt,  most  excellent  de- 
puty grand  high  priest  of  the  grand 
chapter  of  the  state  of  Kentucky,  and 
originally  published  in  the  <^  Western 
Review.'*  The  "  real  friends  of  Ma- 
sonr} ,"  will  read  it  with  extatic  plea- 
8«re,  and  recommend  it  to  the  atten- 
tive jierusal  of  every  inconsistent  bro- 
ther, especially  those,  who  on  any  oo- 
canoii,  dare  profane  the  name  of  the 
Great  Architect  of  the  Universe. 


S  s 


'<Mr.  CroBs  is  well  known  in  the 
Masonic  world.  He  has  been  an  able, 
ardent,  and  indefatigable  labourer  in 
the  cause  of  the  craft.  His  amenity, 
and  mod^y  of  deportment,  the  puri- 
ty of  his  principles,  and  correctness  of 
his  life,  in  fine,  his  truly  Mcuonic  cha- 
racter, have  ensured  him  the  esteem 
and  respect  of  his  brethren,  wherever 
the^  have  had  an  opportunity  of  culti- 
vating his  acquaintance.  His  well 
known  uncommon  acquirements  in 
mj^tic  lorcy  united  to  the  affection  en- 
tertained for  him  as  an  individual, 
must  secure  for  his  work  an  extensive 
patronage.  And,  we  confess,  we  hope 
It  will  be  patronised.  Its  merit  con- 
sists in  the  selection  of  the  best  and 
most  universally  approved  system  of 
illustrations,  and  the  classification  of 
Masonic  emblems,  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  assist  the  lecturer,  and  to  pro- 
mote uniformity  in  working.  This 
latter  part  of  the  plan  is  in  a  great  mea- 
sure new,  and  constitutes  an  import- 
ant improvement,  ft  will  be  of  no 
use  however,  to  any  but  "  brothers  of 
the  mystic  tie."  For  them  only  was 
it  intended,  and  by  them  only  will  it 
be  favourably  regarded. 

^^Mr.  Cross  has  devoted  himself  al- 
most exclusively,  for  some  tinse  past, 
to  the  int^ests  of  Free  Masonry.  He 
has  travelled  from  one  end  of  the  ci«B- 
tinent  to  the  other,  lecturing^  in  every 
part  of  his  course,  compaHng  the 
modes  of  work  which  he  has  observed 
in  different  lodges,  and  endeavouring 
as  far  as  possibte  to  bring  about  a  per- 
fect and  unvarying  unifbrmity.  To 
aid  in  the  accompUshment  of  this  jead- 
ing  object  is  the  design  of  the  work' 
before  us.  We  wish  it  therefore  ex^ 
tensive  circulation  among  the  craft, 
that  its  utility  in  this  respect  miy  be 
fairly  tested.  Whether  Mr.  Cross  be 
right  or  not,  in  all  the  minute  particu- 
lars, a  general  acquaintance  with  his 
work  will  tend  at  least  to  awaken  in- 
quiry, and  where  differences  have  ex- 
isted, to  ascertain  which  mode  is  the 
most  correct 

<*  We  know  there^idre  many  of  our 

ligitized  by  V_jOO)j    ' 


^s& 


UAVomc* 


readers,  who  will  think  thetime  daroted 
to  Masonry  absolutely  lost,  or  wor^ 
than  lost.  Notwithstanding  its  anti- 
quity and  general  diffusion,  notwith- 
standing the  purity  of  its  professed 
principles,  and  the  repeated  encoroi- 
wms  of  its  votaries,  its  mysteries  are 
Considered  as  so  much  ^^  solemn  mock- 
ery,''  and  its  existence  is  regretted  as  a 
calamity  to  the  world.  It  is  a  little 
remarkable  likewise,  that  among  the 
enen^  of  an  institution  prQfessedly 
intended  to  make  men  wiser,  happier, 
and  better;  to  subdue  ft^focious  pas- 
sions, and  to  cultivate  all  the  qobler 
feelings  of  our  nature,  there  should  be 
found  so  many  pious  and  sincere  dis- 
ciples of  the  Redeemer.  There  is  cer- 
tainly no  inconsistency  belwei^n  the 
precepts  of  Masonry  and  those  of  the 
Gospel,  l^t  the  Christian  open  the 
volun)e  before  us,  and  find  in  it,  if  he 
can,  a  doctrine  he  would  condemn,  a 
genefal  principle  he  does  not  admire. 
Nor  does  Masonry  arrogantly  profess 
to  assume  the  high  station  of  a  rival, 
or  a  substitute  of  the  religion  of  the 
cross-  «  So  far  as  its  influence  extends, 
it  is  SMbsidiary  to  the  tause' of  Chris- 
tianity. It  is  true.  Masonry  is  not  con- 
fioed  to  the  ;  professors  of  any  form  of 
religion^  It  admits  within  its  sanctu- 
ary the  Turk,  the  Hindoo,  the  Maho- 
metan, and  tiie  Jew,  as  well  as  the  be- 
liever in  the  Gospel.  But  it  presents 
the  sacred  volume  as  its  first  and  most 
briiliaat  lumitiary ,  as  the  rule  of  faith, 
hoA  the  guide  of  practice.  Why  then 
sI>ould  the  Christian  condemn  it?  As 
well  might  he  object  to  the  admissoMi 
of  any  other  than  professors  of  reli- 
gion |o  the  privileges  of  citizen^ip, 
tPihe  light  of  being  heard,  as  a  party 
01^  a  witness,  in  a  cowt  of  justice,  or 
evei>  to  a  seat  within  the  reach  of  fhe 
sound  of  gofi{)el  preaching. 

, "  Many  however,  find  fault  with  the 
Bccrecy  of  Masonry,  which  they  think 
dangerous  in  itself,  and  inconsistent 
with  the  precepts  of  Christianity,  h 
shonkl  however  be  recollected,  that 
the  principles  of  JVlasonry  are  not  se- 
cret, voi  that  we  have  too   many 


pleclg^,1ntlie  characters  q(  those  y 
in  different  ages  and  comitries  have 
joined  thainselves  to  the  fratcmityy  of 
the  sincerity  of  its  public  professions, 
to  leave  room  for  a  suspinioD  of  any 
thing  dangerous  or  improper  behind 
the  veil.  There  is  nothing  secret  in. 
Masonry  but  those  rites  and  mysteries, 
which  are  essential  to  its  preservatioa 
as  a  distinct  order,  and  which  tend  to 
throw  light  upon  the  ancient  history 
of  the  mstitution-  Without  these  sa» 
crets  Masonry  must  cease  to  exist,  b^ 
cause  without  them  there  would  be  n» 
line  of  demarkation  between  the  initi- 
ated and  the  rest  of  the  world.  L«| 
it  be  considered  too,  that  the  extent  of 
the  institution,  the  various  characters, 
conflicting  sentiments,  and  different 
pursuits  of  those,  who  are  admitted  to 
a  familiar  acquaintance  with  its  my»» 
teries  preclude  the  possibility  of  ma- 
king them  the  veil,  behind  which  to 
devise  or  execute  any  dangercttis  plans. 

"  Some  indeed  object  to  secrecy  in 
the  abstract,  and  maintain  that  on  no 
occasion  whatever  should  it  be  tolera- 
ted. This  however  is  evidently  unte- 
nable ground.  It  is  impossible  to  do 
extensive  good  in  the  world,  without 
occasional  secrecy,  and  dur  Savioiir 
himself  has  enjoined  it  upon  us  t9  pray 
in  secret,  and,  when  we  do  alm^y  not 
even  to  let  the  left  hand  know  what 
the  right  hand  doeth. 

"  It  is  said  however,  and  tnrfy  said, 
that  Masonry  does  not  fully  accom- 
plish the  objects  it  professes  to  have 
in  view ;  that  its  principles  are  better 
than  its  practical  results ;  that,  with  aU 
its  boasted  sublimity  apd  eKeileBoe, 
hs  votaries  are  still  but  meoyand  are 
not  sdways  even  the  best  of  aneii.  This 
alas!  though  it  certainly  does ofHcoa* 
stitute  a  so6d  objectwA  to  the  iA«titi»- 
tion,  Masons  i^re  compelled  to  9dinfiy 
is  a  melaticholy  iiatct$  «id  the  <vder 
never  can  cutain  the  elevated  stdndlag 
it  deserves,  in  the  estifiaatioa  of  an  Ml- 
enlightened  world,  till  ad()itiooal  paioi 
are  t^ken  to  correct  the  asorais  ^  tiM 
fraternity,  aad  to  render  more  coiuipi* 
cuous  6y  in  fruka/MMn^MiMmd  i«^ 

3igitized  by  VjOOQic 


MASONIC. 


asi. 


|>ortaBce*  We  ^oow  indeed  the  be- 
neticiai  tendency  of  Masonry,  for  we 
have  seen  its  happy  results,  not  only 
in  extending  seasonable  relief  to  the 
Qofortunate,  but  in  subduing  turbulent 
passions,  in  withholding  the  hand  of 
violence,  in  adjusting  differences  a- 
mong  brethren,  in  producing  a  peace- 
able atonemeat  for  injuries,  and  thus 
promoting  harmony  and  mutual  affec- 
tion. But  these  effects  are  seldom 
koown  to  the  world,  and  it  is  not  a 
matter  of  wonder,  that  unfavourable 
opinions  should  be  formed  of  'an  insti- 
tution, which  appears  to  the  uninitia- 
ted so  little  productive  of  practical 
good. 

**  It  is  time  then,  that  the  real 
friends  of  Masonry  were  roused  from 
tfaeSr  lethargy.  Either  expunge  from 
the  lectures  and  charges  the  strict  in- 
junctions they  contain,  or  evince,  by 
the  lives  and  conversation  of  Masons, 
that  they  are  not  regarded  with  indif- 
ference and  contempt.  Is  it  not  mock- 
ery and  worse  than  mockery  ?  is  it 
not  insulting  the  ancient  luminaries  of 
the  order,  and  the  order  itself,  to  de- 
liver from  the  oriental  chair,  with  an 
affectation  of  solemnity,  and  gravely 
to  hear,  admonitions,  the  impressive 
language  of  which  has  scarcely  ceased 
to  vibrate  upon  the  ear,  before  they 
are  openly  and  unblushingly  vidated  ? 
What  can  the  world  be  expected  to 
think  of  an  institution,  the  votaries 
of  which,  with  solemn  pomp,  enjoin 
upon  their  newly  made  brother,  nev- 
er to  utter  the  name  of  Deity  "  ex- 
cept WITH  THAT  REVERENTIAL  AWE 
WHICH  IS  DUE    FROM   A  CREATURE  TO 

HIS  CREATOR,''  and  almost  in  the  next 
breath,  so  soon  at  least  as  they  have 
letired  irom  the  hallowed  shrine, 
leach  him  comempt  for  the  precept, 
•by  setting  him  an  example  of  the  most 
awful  proiaoity  ?  Indeed  these  things 
•vught  not  so  to  be.  If  Masonry  is  not 
coondered  as  a  mere  mockery,  if  its 
-precepts  are  expected  to  command  for 
it  respect,  they  ought  not  to  be  habit- 
vMy  and  constamly  violated  in  the 
ii0oe  of  the  world,    is  it  not  tiiae  that 


a  reformation  was  commenced  ?  How 
awful  is  the  responsibilhy  imposed 
upon  those,  who  occupy  elevated  sta^ 
tions,  and  possess  extensive  influence 
among  the  fratetnity  !  Let  them  be- 
gin with  a  scrupulous  attention  to 
their  own  lives.  Let  them  never 
lose  sight  of  the  "  three  great  du- 
ties," or  classes  of  duties,  "  which  as 
Masons  they  are  charged  to  inculcate, 
to  God  their  neighbours,  and  them- 
selves." Let  th^  strive  to  become 
examples  of  every  good  word  and 
work,  to  the  newly  initiated,  and  less 
informed  brother.  Then  let  them  eir 
tend  their  views  to  the  conduct  of 
others.  Let  it  be  the  zealous  endeav- 
our of  all,  who  wish  to  support  the  or- 
der to  which  they  are  so  strongly  and 
closely  united,  to  exhibit  an  obvious 
practical  good  effect  of  its  principles 
and  injunctions.  In  this  way  will  they 
best  answer  the  objection  of  the  cavil- 
ler, and  most  effectually  maintain  the 
dignity  of  the  institution. 

"These  remarks  are  made  with  a 
freedom,  which  some  may  be  inclined 
to  think,  savours  of  arrogance  and  pre- 
sumption.    Let  it  however  be  consi- 
dered, that  they   are  founded  upon 
facts  which  cannot  be  denied ;  and  we 
trust  we  shall  be  believed  when  we 
add,  they  are  the  result  of  a  strong 
attachment  to  the  order,  and  of  a  set- 
tled convictioti  that  in  no  other  way, 
than  that  we  have  pointed  out,  can  It 
be  successfully  and  properly  defended. 
"The  condition  and  prospects  of 
Masonry  in  the  western  country  are 
encouraging.    Nothing  is  wanting  to 
its  prosperity,  but  a  more  scrupulous 
attention  to  its  principles  and  injunc- 
tions.   Lodges  are  numerous.  ^^^  ^^^ 
Masonic  light  is  extensive  and  ardent. 
Royal  Arch  Chapters  are  rising  uP 
under    favourable   auspices  in  every 
part  of  the  country,  and  there  is  a 
prospect  of  the  speedy  establishment 
in  Kentucky  of   an  encampment  o( 
knights  templars.*    It  is  only  neces- 

*  An  encampment  has  unce  been  esta- 
blished. XD- 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


332 


MASONIC. 


tfary  then  to  awaken  to  a  sense  of  the 
true  value  and  proper  objects  of  Ma- 
sonry. We  do  not  expect  to  see  the 
day,  when  Masons  will  all  be  strictly 
aprighty  when  uninterrupted  harmony 
unll  prevail  among  the  Eternity ,  when 
all  the  designs  of  faith  will  be  attain- 
ed)  all  the  delightful  visions  of  hope 
be  realized,  and  pure,  unalloyed  cha- 
rity enjoy  a  boundless  and  resistless 
sway.  But  we  trust  the  time  may 
arrive,  when  the  good  influence  of  Ma- 
sonry oo  the  life  and  character  shall 
be  universally  obvious,  when  its  admi- 
rable theories  shall  be  much  more  ge- 
Berally  reduced  to  practice,  and  when 
the  institution  shall  cease  to  be  con- 
demned and  perseet^l^ed  for  the  errors 
ofits  votaries.'^  ^ 


Last  of  Lodges  subordinate  to  the 
GRAND  LODGE  OF  INDIANA. 

Vincennes,  No.  I. — ^Yincennes,  An- 
drew Gardner,  master;  George  F. 
Jaqoes,  secretary.  First  Monday  in 
eveiy  month. 

Imon,  No.  2. — Madison,  Nicholas 
D.  Grover,  master ;  Nathan  B.  Palm- 
er, secretary.  Thursday,  after  full 
moon. 

Blazing  Star,  No.  3.— Charles- 
town,  Isaac  Howk,  master;  James 
Morrison,  secretary.  First  Monday 
in  every  month. 

Lawrencehfurg^  No.  4. — Lawrence- 
burg,  John  Myers,  raster";  James 
Bunell,  secretary.  Tuesday,  preced- 
ing full  moon. 

Piigahy  No.  5. — Corydon,  Jona- 
than Jennings,  master;  Harbin  H. 
Bloore,  secretary.  First  Monday  in 
every  month. 

Rising  5tm,  No.  6. — ^Rising  Sun, 
Abel  C.  Pepper,  master ;  Moses  Tap- 
ley,  secretary.    Wednesday  preceding 


ley, 
fidl 


full  moon. 

Vevayy  No.  7* — Vevay,  WiUiam  C. 
*Keen,  master;  Nathanial  S.  Porter, 
secreuiry.  Thursday  of,  or  preceding 
fiill  moon. 

Zif^  No.  S.— New  Albany,  Asabel 


Clapp,  master;  William  Normans,  se- 
cretary. Third  Tuesday  in  every 
month. 

Posey y  No.  9. — Jeffersonville,  John 
Weathers,  master ;  Charles  M.  Tay- 
lor, secretary.  First  Saturday  in  every 
month. 

Olive  Branchy'So,  10. — Evansville, 
Amos  CUrk,  master ;  John  W.  Shaw, 
secretary.  Wednesday  of,  or  prece- 
ding full  mooo. 

Harmony,  No.  1 1 . — BrookviMe, 
John  Jacobs,  master;  Harvey  Bates^ 
secretary. 

Scotty  No.  12. — Lexington,  Jacob 
Thomas,  master;  James  Goodhue, 
secretary. 

Washington,  No.  18. — ftrowns- 
town,  William  Williams,  master;  Asa 
Glover,  secretary.  Thursday  of,  or 
preceding  full  moon. 

Temple,  u.n. — Hardingsburg,  Tho- 
mas Palmer,  master.  Time  of  meet- 
ing unknown. 

Terre  Haute,  u.d. — ^Terrc  Haute, 
Peter  Allen,  master.  Time  of  meet- 
ing unknown. 

Palestine,  u.  n. — Palestine,  John 
Milroy,  master ;  Patrick  Callam,  sec- 
retary. Thursday  6f,  or  preceding 
full  moon. 

Warren,  u.  d. — Connersville,  John 
Sample,  master.  Tiipe  of  meeting 
unknown. 


FELLOW  CRAFTS  DEGREE. 

THE  SECOND  LBCTVEB. 

(Concladed  from  page  292.) 

THE   THIRD   SECTION. 

<<  The  Third  Section  of  this  Degree 
has  recourse  to  the  origin  of  the  insti- 
tution, and  views  Masoniy  under  tw« 
denominations,  operative  and  specula- 
tive. These  are  (separately  consider- 
ed, and  the  principles  on  whieb  bodi 
are  founded,  are  particularly  eipbin- 
ed.  Their  affinity  is  pointed  out,  bf 
allegorical  figures,  and  typical  rejpn^ 
sentations.  ,  Here  the  rise  of  oiir  go- 
vernment, or  divbion  into  clashes,  is 
examined  ^  the  dispos^^g^  our  nt- 


HASONIC. 


S33 


ieiSf  svprenie  and  subordinate,  is  txzr 
ced ;  and  reasons 'are  assigned  for  the 
establishment  of  several  of  our  pre- 
sent practices.  The  progress  made  in 
architecture,  particularly  in  the  reign 
of  Solomon,  is  remarked;  the  num- 
ber of  artists  who  were  employed  in 
building  the  temple  of  Jerusalem,  with 
their  privileges^  are  specified ;  the  stip- 
'ulated  period  for  rewarding  merit  is 
fixed,  and  the  inimitable  moral  to 
vbic^tbat  circumstance  alludes,  is  ex- 
plained ;  the  creation  of  the  world  is 
described,  and  many  particulars  are 
recited,  which  have  been  carefully  pre- 
served among  Masons,  and  transmit- 
ted from  one  age  to  another  by  oral 
tradition.  In  short,  this  section  con- 
tains a  store  of  valuable  knowledge, 
founded  on  reason  and  sacred  record, 
both  entertaining  and  instructive. — 
The  whole  operates  powerfully  in  en- 
forcing the  veneration  due  to  antiquity. 

"  Masonry  passes  under  two  denom- 
inations— operative  and  speculative. 
By  the  former,  we  allude  to  a  proper 
application  of  the  useful  i*ules  of  arch- 
itecture, whence  a  structure  derives 
figure,  strength^  and  beauty;  and 
whence  result  a  due  proportion  and  a 
just  correspondence  in  all  its  parts. — 
^By  the  latter,  we  learn  to  govern  the 
passions,  act  upon  the  square,  keep  a 
tongue  of  good  report,  maintain  secre- 
cy, and  practise  charity. 

"  Speculative  Masonry  is  so  far  in- 
terwoven with  religion,  as  to  lay  us 
under  the  strongest  obligations  to  pay 
that  rational  homage  to  the  Deity, 
which  at  once  constitutes  our  duty,  and 
our  happiness.  It  leads  the  contem- 
plative to  view  with  reverence  and  ad- 
miration the  glorious  works  of  crea- 
tion, and  inspires  them  with  the  most 
exalted  ideas  of  the  perfections  of  the 
divine  Creator.  Operative  Masonry 
furnishes  us  widi  dwellings,  and  con- 
▼enieQt  shelters  from  the  inclemencies 
•f  seasons;  and  while  it  displays  the 
effects  of  human  wisdom,  as  well  in 
the  choice,  as  in  the  arrangement  of  the 
materiab  of  which  an  edifice  is  com- 
posed, it  demonstrates  that  a  fuod  of 


science  and  industry  is  implanted  ia 
man  for  the  best,  tnost  salutary,  and 
beneficent  purposes. 

'<  The  lapse  of  time,  the  ruthless 
hand  of  ignorance,  and  the  devastations 
of  war,  have  laid  waste  and  destroyed 
many  \'aluable  monuments  of  antiqui- 
ty, on  which  the  utmost  exertions  of 
human  genius  have  been  employed. 
Even  the  temple  of  Solomon,  so  spa- 
cious and  magnificent,  and  constructed 
by  so  many  celebrated  artists,  escaped 
not  the  unsparing  ravages  of  barba- 
rous force.  Free-Masonry,  notwith- 
standing, has  still  survived.  The  at- 
tentive ear  receives  the  sound  from  the 
instructive  tongue,  and  the  sacred  mys- 
teries are  safely  lodged  in  the  reposi- 
tory of  faithful  breasts.  Tools  and 
implements  of  architecture,  symbols 
the  most  expressive !  are  selected  by 
the  fraternity,  to  imprint  on  the  memo- 
ry serious  truths;  and  thus  the  excel- 
lent tenets  of  the  institution  are  trans- 
mitted unimpaired,  under  circumstan- 
ces precarious  and  adverse,  through  a 
succession  of  ages. 


ENTERED  APPRENTICE'S  SON^. 

[TuREi  Com*  Ut  u$  prepare.} 


Just  straight  from  his  home 

See  yon  candidate  come, 
Prepared  for  the  time  and  occasion 

Of  all  that  can  banoy 

We  will  him  disarm, 
That  he  no  way  may  hmrt  a  Free 


His  eyes  oaonot  search 
Out  the  wa^  of  his  march. 
Nor  yet  where  his  steps  be  most  place  Km : 
'         When  him  we  receive, 
He  cannot  perceive 
How  be  came  to  be  made  a  Free  Maso». 

Then  he'll  danger  defy, 

And  on  Heaven  rely 
For  strength  to  sapport  the  occaflioa. 

With  the  blessing  of  pray'r 

He  banishes  fear, 
And  undaunted  is  made  a  Fret  Mason. 

When  he  makes  his  demand, 
By  the  master's  command, 
To  know  if  he's  fit  for  the  station, 
Aroand  be  b  brought, 
Ere  he  get  what  he  soudit 


334 


UASONK^ 


When  girded  with  care, 

By  the  help  of  the  souare, 
Hie  emblem  ot  truth  ana  of  reason» 

In  form  he  is  plac'd, 

While  to  him  are  rehears'd 
The  mysteries  of  a  Free  Mason. 

Then  full  in  his  sight 

Doth  shine  the  grand  light, 
To  illumine  the  works  which  we  trace  on  ; 

And  now,  as  his  due, 

He's  cloth'd,  in  full  view 
With  the  badge  of  an  accepted  Mason. 

Now  bark  !  we  enlarge 

On  the  duties  and  charge, 
Where  bis  conduct  and  walk  be  must  place 
on ; 

Then  our  rites  we'll  fulfil. 

And  show  our  good  will 
To  a  free  and  accepted  Mason» 


\NOTHEa 
[Tune — Cod  saxe  tlu  ^ng.] 

Let  Masons'  fame  resound 
Through  all  the  nations  round, 

From  pole  to  pole  : 
See  what  felicity» 
Harmle.ss  simplicity) 
Like  electricity, 

Runs  through  the  whole. 

Such  sweet  variety, 
Ne'er  had  society 

Ever  before ; 
Faiihy  Hopty  and  Chanty,    ' 
Love  and  sincerity. 
Without  temerity. 

Charm  mora  and  more. 

When  in  the  lodge  we're  met, 
And  in  due  order  set, 

Happy  are  we : 
Oor  works  are  glorious, 
Deeds  meritorious, 
Haver  censorious, 

But  always  firee. 

When  Folly's  sons  arise, 
Masonry  to  despise, 

Scorn  all  their  spite ; 
Laugh  at  tbehr  ignorance, 
Fitv  their  went  of  sense, 
Ne  er  let  them  giv«  offence, 

Firmer  unite. 

Masons  have4ong  been  free, 
And  may  they  ever  be 

Great  as  of  yore  ; 
For  many  ages  past. 
Masonry  has  stood  fast, 
And  may  its  glory  last 

Titt  time's  no  more. 


FJELLOW  CRAfT'S  SOWfe: 
[Tuif«— Ru/c,  BrilmuvUh] 

When  earth's  foundation  first  was  laid. 
By  the  Almighty  Artist's  hand, 

'Twas  then  our  perfect,  our  perfect  laws 
were  made, 
Establish 'd  by  his  striot  commaiidU 

CHORUS. 

Hail,  mysterious — hail,  glorious  Masonry  I 
That  makes  us  ever  great  and  free. 

In  vain  mankind  for  shelter  sought, 
In  vain  from  place  to  place  did  roam. 

Until  from  Heaven,  from  Heaven  he  was 
tanght. 
To  plan,  to  build,  to  fix  his  home. 

Illustrious  hence  we  date  onr  Art, 
And  now  in  beauteous  piles  appear, 

We  shall  to  endless,  to  endless  time  Im- 
part,      • 
How  worthy  and  how  great  we  are. 

Nor  we  less  fam'd  for  every  tie, 

By  which  the  human  thought  as  Ixiand  ; 
lA)ve,  ifuLhi  and  friendship,  and  friendship 
socially, 

Join  all  our  hearts  and  hands  around. 

Our  actions  still  by  vurtue  blest, 
And  to  our  precepts  ever  true, 

The  world  admiring,  admiring  shall  request 
To  learn,  tnd  our  briglit  paths  pursue. 


MASTER  MASON'S  DEGREE. 

The  lecture  on  this  most  beautUb^ 
and  sublime  degree,  is  divided  by  Mr* 
Preston  into  twelve  sections.  ^^  To  « 
complete  knowledge  of  this  kcture 
few  attain;  but  it  is  an  infallible  tmth, 
that  he  who  acquires  by  merit  the 
mark  of  pre-eminence  to  which  this 
degree  entitles  him,  receives  a  reward 
which  amply  compensates  for  all  his 
past  diligence  and  assiduity. 

^*  From  this  class  of  the  Order  the 
rulers  of  the  craft  are  selected ;  as  U 
is  only  from  those  who  are  ^capable  of 
giving  instruction,  that  we  can  proper- 
ly expect  to  receive  it.'' 

TU£  THIRD  LECTURE. 
THE   FIRST  SECTION. 

^<  The  ceremony  of  initiation  kMo 
the  third  degree  is  particulariy  speci- 
fied in  this  branch  of  the  lecture,  and 
many  ifsefid  SQ8lnM^k«»^fu<e  givet^ 


MASOMO. 


ssa 


^SucHlt  the  HBporttnce  of  this  sec- 
don,  that  we  may  safelj  aver,  whoever 
is  onacqaainted  with  it,  is  ill-qualifled 
to  act  as  a  ruler  or  governor  of  the 
work  of  Masonry.^' 

Prayer  at  Initiation  in  the   T^ird 
Degree^ 

^OLord,  direct  us  to  know  and 
sene  thee  aright !  prosper  our  Uuda- 
hie  undertakings !  and  grant  that,  as 
we  increase  in  knowledge,  we  may 
improve  in  virtue,  and  still  farther 
promote  thy    honour    and   glory! — 

"  The  Second  Section  is  an  introduc- 
tion to  the  proceedings  of  a  lodge 
of  Master  Masons,  and  illustrates  se- 
veral points  which  are  well  known  to 
eiperiepced  craftsmen.  It  investigates 
in  the  ceremony  of  opening  the  lodge, 
the  most  important  circumstances  in 
the  two  preceding  degrees. 

"  The  Third  Section  commences  the 
historical  traditions  of  the  Order; 
which  are  cliiefly  collected  from  sa- 
cred record,  and  other  authentic  docu- 
ments. 

"  ne  Fourth  Section  farther  illus- 
tratet  the  historical  traditions  of  the 
Order  j  and  presents  to  view  a  finish- 
ed pietore  of  the  utmost  consequence 
to  the  fraternity. 

^  The  Fifth  Section  continues  the 
ex[^nation  of  historical  traditions  of 
the  Order. 

^'  The  Sixth  Section  concludes  the 
historical  traditions  of  the  Order. 

^  The  Seventh  Section  illustrates 
the  hierc^lyphical  emblen»  restricted 
to  the  third  degree,  and  inculcates 
many  useful  lessons,  in  order  to  ex- 
tend knowledge,  and  promote  virtue. 

''This  section  is  indispensably  ne- 
cessary to  be  understood  by  every 
Master  of  the  Lodge. 

"  The  Eighth  Section  treats  of  the 

Sremment  of  the  society,  and  the 
position  of  our  rulers^  supreme  and 
subordinate.    It  is  therefore  generally 
i^hearsed  at  installations. 
^'Tfhg  Ninth  Si^c^   recites   the 


qualification  of  our  riders,  and  iUu^- 
trates  the  ceremony  of  installation,  in 
the  Grand  Lodge,  as  well  as  in  pri- 
vate assemblies  of  Masons. 

''  The  Tenth  Section  comprehends 
the  ceremonies  ofcon&titution  and  con- 
secration, with  a  variety  of  particulars 
explanatory  of  those  ceremonies. 

'^  The  Eleventh  Section  illustrates 
the  ceremonies  used  at  laying  the  foun- 
dation stones  of  public  edifices,  and 
the  ceremonies  observed  at  the  deflica- 
tion  of  the  lodge,  ^nd  at  the  inter- 
ment of  Master  Masons. 

'^The  Twelfth  Section  contains  a 
recapitulation  o(  the  essential  points  of 
the  lectures  in  all  the  degrees,  and  cor- 
roborates the  whole  by  infallible  tes- 
timony. 

''  Having  thus  given  a  general  sum- 
mary of  the  lectures  restricted  to  the 
difierent  degrees  of  Masonry,  and 
made  such  remarks  on  each  degree,  as 
tend  to  illustrate  the  subjects  treated, 
little  farther  can  be  wanted  to  encour- 
age the  zealous  Mason  to  persevere  in 
his  researches.  He  who  has  traced 
the  Art  in  a  regular  pyogress,  from  the 
commencement  of  trie  first  to  the  con- 
clusion of  the  third  degree,  according 
to  the  plan  here  laid  down,  will  have 
amassed  an  ample  store  of  useful  learn- 
ing; he  will  reflect  with  pleasure  on 
the  good  effects  of  his  past  diligence 
and  attention,  and  by  applying  th<^ 
whole  to  the  general  advantage  of  so-, 
ciety,  will  secure  to  himself  the  ven- 
eration of  Masons,  and  the  approba^ 
tion  of  all  good  men." 

C^rge  at  Initiation  in  the  Third 
Degree^ 
"  Brotheb, 

"  Your  zeal  for  the  institution  of 
Free-Masonry,  the  progress  which  you 
have  made  in  the  art,  and  your  con- 
formity tp  all  the  general  i?egulations, 
have  pointed  you  out  as  a  proper  ob- 
ject of  our  favour  and  esteem, 

« In  the  chfiuracter  of  a  Master-Ma- 
son, you  arc  henceforth  authorised  to 
correct  the  errors  and  irregularities  of 
youjr  brethren  and  fellows,  and  ^uard 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


33y5^,  MASomc. 

them  against  a  breach  of  fidelity.  To 
improve  the  morals  and  manners  of 
men  in  society,  must  be  your  constant 
care;  with  this  view,  therefore,  you 
are  to  recommend  to  ymu*  inferiors, 
obedience  and  submission;  to  your 
equals,  courtesy  and  affability ;  to  your 
superiors,  kindness  and  condescension. 
Universal  benevolence  you  are  always 
to  inculcate;  and  by  the  regularity  of 
your  behaviour,  afford  the  best  exam- 
ple for  the  conduct  of  others.  The 
ancient  landmarks  of  the  order,  which 
are  now  intrusted  to  your  care,  you 
are  to  preserve  sacred  and  inviolable, 
and  never  suffer  by  any  infringement 
of  our  rites,  a  deviation  from  estab- 
lished usage  and  custom. 

<<  Duty,  honour,  and  gratitude,  now 
bind  you  to  be  faithful  to  every  trust; 
to  support  with  becoming  dignity  your 
new  character;  and  to  enforce  by  ex- 
ample and  precept,  the  tenets  of  our 
system,  lit  no  motive,  therefore, 
make  you  swerve  from  your  duty,  vio- 
tete  your  vows,  or  betray  your  trust ; 
but  be  true  and  faithful,  and  imitate 
the  example  of  tljat  celebrated  artist 
whom  you  have  onc^  represented.—- 
Thus  your  exemplary  conduct  will 
convince  the  World,  that  merit  has 
been  the  title  to  our  privileges;  and 
that,  on  you,  our  favours  are  not  un- 
deservedly bestowed.'* 


MASTER'S  SON^. 

BT  IKOTHtR  T.   t.  WEBB. 

[Tore — Greenwieh  Pmiumer.^ 
1  ling  the  Mason's  glory, 

Whose  prying  mind  doth  bum, 
Unto  complete  perfection 

Our  mysteries  to  learn  ; 
Kot  tho«e  who  visit  lodges 

To  eat  and  drink  their  fill, 
Not  those  who  at  our  meetings 

Hear  lectures  'gainst  their  will : 

CHORUS. 

But  only  those  whose  nleasare, 

At  cveiy  lodge,  can  he, 
T'  improve  thems^^es  by  lectures, 

In  glorious  Masonry. 

Hail !  glorious  Masoniy. 

Xbc  faithful,  wortl^  brother, 
Whose  heart  can  feel  for  grief, 


Whose  bosom  with  compassion 

Step*  forth  to  its  relief. 
Whose  soul  is  ever  ready. 

Around  him  to  diffuse 
The  principles  of  Masons, 

And  giiard  them  from  abuse. 

CHORUS; 

These  are  thy  sons,  Mlbose  plcasarc, 

At  every  lodge,  will  be 
T'  improve  themselves  by  lectures 

In  glorious  Masonry. 

Hail !  glorious  Masoofy. 

King  Solomon,  our  patron, 

Transmitted  this  command — 
"  The  faithful  and  pmise-worthy 

True  light  must  understand ; 
And  my  descendants,  also, 

Who're  seated  in  the  Eatt, 
Have  not  fulfiU'd  their  duty. 

Till  light  has  reach'd  the  West. ' 

CHORUS. 

Therefore,  our  highest  pleasure, 
At  every  lodge,  should  be, 

T'  improve  ourselves  by  lectures, 
In  glorious  Masonry 
I  Hail!  glorious  Maso'nnr. 

The  duty  and  the  station, 

Of  master  in  the  cliair, 
Obliges  him  to  summon 

Each  brother  to  prepare ; 
That  all  may  be  enabled. 

By  slow,  though  sure  degrees, 
To  answer  in  rotation. 

With  lionour  and  with  ease. 

CHORUS. 

Such  are  thy  sons,  whose  pleasoftt 
At  every  lodge,  will  b^ 

T'  improve  themselves  by  Icctares 
In  glorious  Masonry. 

Hail !  glorious  Masonry.. 


ANTIQUITIES. 

Extracts  front  M  Mamucripti  a^ 
Records  in  Great  Britain, 

(Concluded  from  page  308) 

NO.  in. 

"  In  the  glorious  reign  of  King  Ed- 
ward m,  when  Lodges  were  more  fre- 
quent, the  Right  Worshipful  the  Mas- 
ter and  Fellows,  with  consent  of  the 
Lords  of  the  realm  ffor  most  great 
men  were  then  Masons)  ordained, 

"That  for  the  future,  at  the  making 
or  admission  of  a  Brother,  the  consU- 
tution  and  the  ancient  charees  should 
be  read  by  the  Master  or  Warden. 


*i^SONIt%  337 


'*  That  such  as  were  to  be  admitted 
Master  Masons,  or 'Masters  of  work, 
diould  be  examined  whether  they  be 
able  of  cunning  to  serve  their  respect" 
ive  Lords,  as  well  the  lowest  as  the 
highest,  to  the  honor  and  worship  of 
the  aforesaid  art,  and  to  the  profit  of 
their  Lords ;  for  they  be  their  Lords 
that  employ  and  pay  them  for  their 
service  and  travel." 
The  following  particulars  are  also  contain- 
ed io  a  very  old  manuscripti  of  which  a 
copy  was  in  the  possessson  of  the  late 
George  PAmE,  Esq.  Grand  Master  in 
(1718. 

"That  when  the  Master  and  War- 
dens meet  in  a  Lodge,  if  need  be,  the 
Sheriff  of  the  county,  or  the  Mayor  of 
tbe  city,  or  Alderman  of  the  town,  in 
vb'rch  the  congregation  is  held,  should 
be  made  fellow  and  sociate  to  the  Mas- 
ter, in  help  of  him  against  rebels,  and 
kr  upbearing  the  rights  of  the  realm. 

"That  entered  prentices,  at  their 
Biaking,  were  charged  not  to  be  thieves 
or  thieves  maintainers;  that  they 
should  travel  honestly  for  their  pay, 
and  love  their  fellows  as  themselves, 
aad  be  true  to  the  King  of  England, 
and  to  the  realm,  and  to  the  Lodge« 

"That  at  such  congregations  it  shall ' 
be  inquired,  whether  any  master  or 
Fellow  has  broke  any  of  the  articles 
agreed  to;  and  if  *the  offender,  being 
ddy  cited  to  appear,  prove  rebel,  and 
will  not  attend,  then  the  Lodge  shall 
determine  against  him,  that  be  shall 
forswear  (or  renounce)  his  Masoniy, 
aad  shall  no  more  use  this  Craft,  the 
which  if  be  presume  for  to  do,  the 
Sheriff  of  the  county  shall  prison  him, 
tnd  take  all  his  goods  into  the  King's 
haode^  until  his  grace  be  grat^ted  him 
aed  issued.  For  this  cause  princi- 
pally have  these  congr^ations  been 
ordained,  that  as  well  as  Uie  lowest  as, 
^  highest  should  be  well  and  truly 
served  in  this  art  aforesaid,  througlih 
eal  aS  the  kingdom  of  England* — 
AjneD|  so  mote  it  be." 
NO.  IV. 
She  Latin  Register  of  William  Molart, 
VMor  of  Caaterboiy,  in  manusoripti  pap. 
^  Mtided,  «<Xifrfr«No  gtntrglu  Xkmini 

S 


OidiehiH  Frioris  BteUtia  Chritti  CmUuari' 
entU,  erga  Fattum  JfalalU  Dommi  1^9," 
infonns  ns,  that,  in  the  year  1429|  during 
the  Hunority  of  Henry  VI,  a  respectable 
lodge  was  held  at  Cant»rbury»  under  the 
patrooage  of  Henry  Chicheley,  the  Arch- 
bishop: At  which  were  present  Thomas 
Stapylton,  the  master ;  John  Morris,  castos 
de  la  lodge  hthomorum,  or  warden  of  the 
locU;e  of  Masons ;  with  fifteen  fellow  crafto, 
and  three  entered  apprentices,  all  of  whom 
are  particularly  named. 

A  record  of  that  time  says,  that 

^^The  company  of  Masons,  lieing 
otherwise  termed  Free  Masons,  of  aun- 
tient  staunding  and  gude  reckoningi 
by  means  of  ad^fable  and  kind  meet- 
ings dyverse  tymes,  and  as  a  loving 
brotherhood  use  to  do,  did  frequeqt 
this  mutual  assembly  in  the  time  of 
Henry  vi,  in  the  12th  year  of  his  reign, 
A.  D.  1434." 
See  also  Stowe's  Survey,  ch.  v.  p.  215. 

The  tame  record  says  further, 

^'  That  the  charges  and  laws  of  (he 
Free  Masons  have  been  seen  and  pe- 
rused by  our  late  Sovereign  King  Hen- 
ry vi,  and  by  the  Lords  of  his  most 
honourable  council,  who  have  allowed 
them,  and  declared.  That  they  be 
right  good  and  reasonable  to  be  hoi- 
|i»den,  as  they  have  been  drawn  out  and 
collected  from  the  records  of  auntient 
tymes,*^  &c.  &c. 

JfO.  V. 

AJVCIENT  CHARGES. 

^  Ye  shall  be  true  to  the  King,  ai^d 
the  Master  ye  serve,  and  to  the  fellow^ 
ship  whereof  ye  are  admitted*  Ye 
sbaU  be  true  to  and  love  eidher  odher. 

<<  Ye  shall  call  eidher  odher  Brother 
or  Fellow,  not  slave,  nor  any  unkind 
name. 

<^  Ye  shall  ordaia  the  wisest  to  be 
Master  of  the  work ;  and  neitfier  for 
love  nor  lineage,  riches  nor  favor,  set 
one  over  the  work  who  hath  bi^t  little 
knowledge ;  whereby  the  Mas{er  woul4 
be  evil  served,  aad  ye  ashamed.  And 
also  ye  shall  call  the  goveroQMr  of  the 
work  Master  in  the  lime  of  workii]i|r 
witii  him :  Andy^  shall  truly  deserve 
your  ^watTfl^'^SWJl^i^e  «rve. 


3$S 


MiaCELLASKOLs. 


"All  ihe  FrereS  shall  treat  the  pe- 
culiarities of  eidher  odlier  with  the 
£eut]eness,  deeencie,  and  forbearauce 
ne  thinks  due  to  his  own. 

**  Ye  shall  have  a  reasonable  pay,  and 
live  honestly. 

"  Once  a  year  ye  are  to  come  and  as- 
semble together,  to  «onsuU  bow  ye 
may  best  work  to  serve  the  Craft,  and 
to  your  own  profit  and  credit." 


To  the  Editor  of  the  Masonic  Register. 
QUERE. 

Can,  or  ought  a  lodge,  during  work- 
ing hours,  on  pretence  of  "  not  having 
time,"  or  any  other  *  pretence,  refuse 
to  examine  and  adm't  a  visiting  bro- 
ther who  presents  himself  at  its  door, 
ready,  able,  and  willing  to  work  his 
way  in. 

Probably  this  quefy  may  not  be 
deemed  unworthy  of  an  answer  from 
the  G.  L.  or  some  of  its  leading  mem- 
bers, and  may  serve  to  remind  other 
lodges  of  tlieir  duty. 

A   BROTHEIU 


MISCELLANEOUS^  . 

THE  CONVICT. 

Robert  Wilson,  was  a  market  gar- 
dener. Early  in  life  he  married  a  de- 
serving young  woman  whom  he  loved 
with  entire  tenderness,  and  by  whom 
he  had  several  children.  No  man  on 
earth  could  be  more  fond  of  his  little 
offspring  than  Wilson ;  and  they  on  the 
other  hand  almost  worshipped  their 
father,  taking  delight  in  nothing  so 
much  as  in  doing  what  he  wished. 
Wilson  was  not  very  wise,  nor  was  h- 
at  all  learned  i  but  his  heart,  which  as 
I  have  said  was  all  of  tenderness,  told 
him  with  unerring  instinct  that  his 
children  would  be  governed  more  per- 
fectly and  with  more  wholesome  effect, 
under  the  dominion  of  love  than  under 
that  of  fear,  and  his  5ras  indeed  a  hap- 
py family ;  where  affection,  pleasure, 
obedience,  and  &hh  (faitk  in  each 


other)  went  hajid  iu  hand.  Wilson 
was  well  situated'  for  passing  his  Hie 
comfortably,  and  rationally,  his  gar- 
den being  just  far  enough  out  of  Lon- 
don to  render  inconvenient  his  mix- 
ing in  the  squalid  profligacies  of  towr, 
had  he  so  inclined ;  and  yet  he  was 
not  so  entirely  in  the  country  as  to  I 
harden  him  into  the  robust  callousness 
and  ignorant  vices  of  a  village  life.  He 
could  just  hear  enough  of  the  ^^  stir  of 
great  Babel,"  to  interest  him  in  it,  and 
to  keep  his  faculties  alive  and  awake 
to  the  value  of  bis  own  quiet,  and  to 
the  utiaffected  caresses  of  his  dear  wife 
and  children,  which  always  appeared 
more  and  more  precious  after  be  had 
been  hearing,  in  his  weekly  visits 
to  town,  some  instances  of  mercenary 
hypocrisy  and  false  heartedness. 

I  lodged  two  years  in  his  house,  and 
have  often  seen  liim  on  asummeFs 
evening  sitting  in  an  open  part  of  his 
garden  surrounded  by  his  family,  in 
unconscious  enjoyment  of  the  still  and 
ricb  sun-set.  I  was  his  guest  the  last 
time  I  saw  him,  poor  fellow,  in  this 
placid  happiness.  We  drank  tea  in 
the  open  air,  and  amused  ourselves 
afterwards,  I  recollect,  with  reading 
the  preceding  day's  news  paper,  which 
Wilson  used  to  hire  for  the  evening* 
We  sat  out  of  doocs  later  thaii  usual, 
owing  to  the  deiicrousness  of  the  night, 
which,  instead  of  deepening  into  dark- 
ness, kept  up  a  mellow  golden  radi- 
ance, sweeter  than  the  searching  day- 
light; for  before  the  colours  of  the 
sun  had  entirely  faded  in  the  west,  the 
moon  came  up  over  the  eastt'xn  hori- 
zon, a;id  the  effect  was  divine.  My 
poor  host,  however,  did  not  seem  so 
happy  as  usual.  He  had  been  thoughr- 
ful  the  whole  evening,  a^ui  now  be- 
came more  pensive,  and  nothing  roos- 
ed  him  even  into  momentary  cheer, 
except  the  playfulness  of  his  eldest 
daughter^  a  meiry  little  girl  of  about 
four  or  five  years  of  age.  If  was  sad 
to  see  him,  with  his  dejected  face  stri- 
ving to  laugh  and  romp  with  the  child, 
who  in  a  short  time  began  to  perceive 
the  alte«tioa«  h^^'^  rnanmn-. 


MI«CELXANX6US. 


SS9 


And  to  reflect  ia  her  smooth  face  the 
uneasiness  of  his.  But  their  pastime 
was' of  short  conthHiance.  It  was  me- 
lancholy pretence.  There  was  notliing 
hearty  in  it,  except  the  dance  of  the 
child's  forehead  locks  tossed  to  and  Iro 
in  the  clear  moonshine. 

1  soon  found  out  the  cause  of  this 
depnression.  He  was  beginntng  to  be 
pinched  nader  an  ngly  coalition,  an 
increasing  family,  decreasing  business, 
and  times  taxed  to  the  utmost.  The 
gentlolEilks,  living  about  the  great 
squares,  did  not  spend  so  much  money 
as  formerly,  in  decking  their  windoiws 
and  balconies  with  early  flowers  and 
rare  exotics,  and  this  was  an  import- 
ant source  of  Wilson's  revenue.  He 
bore  ap,  however,  with  sad  patience, 
for  a  long  time,  till  hunger  thinned 
and  stretched  the  round  faces  of  his 
children,  and  his  wife's  endearments, 
instead  of  coming  with  hope  and  en- 
cooragementj  seemed  like  tokens  of 
k)ve  growing  more  spiritual  and  de- 
voted under  despair;  they  were  em- 
braces hallowed  and  made  sublime  by 
fame.  All  this  was  more  than  the 
poor  man  could  bear.  The  failing 
voices  of  his  unconscious  children, 
were  like  madness  bringing  sounds  in 
his  ear ;  and  one  night,  losing  in  the 
taroult  of  his  thoughts  all  distinction 
between  right  and  wrong,  he  rushed 
forth  and  committed  robbery. 

I  shall  never  forget,  as  long  as  I  live, 
the  hour  when  he  was  apprehended 
by  the  officers  of  justice. 

A  knock  was  heard  at  the  outer 
gate;  and  on  Mrs.  Wilson's  going  to 
open  it,  two  men  rushed  by  her  into 
the  house,  and  seized  her  pale  and 
trembling  husband,  who,  although  he 
expected  and  dreaded  such  an  event, 
was  so  staggered  by  it  as  to  lose,  for 
a  .few  moments,  his  consciousness  of 
all  about  him.  The  first  thing  he  saw 
00  coming  to  himself,  was  his  wife 
stretched  at  his  feet  in  a  fearful  swoon, 
and  as  he  was  hurried  off,  he  turned 
his  eyes  towards  her  with  a  heart  bro- 
ken expression,  calling  out  in  a  tone 


half  raving,  tod  half  imploring,  ^  look 
there,  look  there!" 

It  would  be  vain  to  attempt  a  de- 
scription of  the  wretched  hours  passed 
by  him  and  his  wife  in  the  interval 
which  elapsed  between  this  period  and 
the  time  of  his  trial.  The  madness  of 
his  utter  despair  perhaps,  was  less  in- 
tolerable than  the  sickening  agitation 
produced  in  her  mind  by  the  air  built 
hopes  she  dared  to  entertain  in  weary 
succession,  and  which  were  only  born 
to  be  soon  stricken  back  into  nothiug. 
This  is  indeed.a  ghastly  and  withering 
conflict.  The  poor  woman,  after  en- 
during it  for  three  weeks,  could  not  be 
easily  recognized  by  her  old  acquaint- 
ances. There  were  no  traces  left  of 
the  happy,  bust  jug  wife.  She  moved 
silently  among  her  children,  her  face 
was  emaciated,  and  hectic;  and  lier 
eyes  were  red  with  the  constant  swell 
of  tears.     It  was  a  mighty  change. 

The  day  of  trLJ  at  length  came  on ; 
Wilson  was  founa  guilty,  and  sentence 
of  death  was  passed  on  him.  The 
laws  in  their  justice  had  enforced  tlie 
taxation,  tlie  hard  pressure  of  which 
had  so  mainly  assisted  to  drive  him 
into  the  crime.  But  the  world  is  in- 
explicable. 

His  wife  did  not  survive  this  npws 
many  hours.  She  died  in  the  night 
without  a  struggle.  It  was  of  no  use 
to  let  the  condemned  man  know  this, 
I  knew  he  would  never  ask  to  see  her 
again ;  for  their  meetings  in  prison  had 
already  been  tormenting  beyond  endu- 
rance. 

I  visited  him  in  his  cell  two  days 
before  the  time  appointed  for  his  exe- 
cution. He  was  silent  for  many 
minutes  Bder  I  entered,  and  I  did  not 
attempt  to  rouse  him.  At  length,  with 
a  voice  quivering  under  an  effort  to  be 
composed,  he  said  :  ^<  Although,  Mr. 
Saville,  I  dp  not  request  (I  was  going 
to  say  I  do  not  wish,  but  God  knows 
how  false  that  would  be,)  to  behold 
my  wife  again  na  this  bitter,  bitter 
world,  because  tflch  a/lreary  meeting 
would  drive  her.mad ;  yet  I  think  it 
woold  do  me  good  if  I  could  see  my 


S4X> 


]if48CCtLAmK>U8. 


dtUdy  tey  eldest  girl,  any  little  Betty. 
I  know  not  why  it  is,  but  I  have  an 
idea  that  her  soft  prattle,  ignorant  as 
she  is  of  my  fate,  would  take  some- 
thing away  from  the  dismal  snffieriBg 
I  am  to  undergo  on  Wednesday  : 
therefore  tning  her,  will  you,  this  after- 
tioon ;  and  frame  some  postponing  ex- 
cuse for  my  poor  wife.  These,  dear 
sir,  are  menncholy  troubles,  but  I 
know  you  are  very  good. 

In  the  afternoon  accordingly  I  ta»k 
the  child,  who  asked  me  several  times 
on  the  road  why  her  father  did  not 
come  home.  As  we  walked  along  the 
gloomy  passages  to  his  cell,  she  clung 
close  to  me,  and  did  not  say  a  word ; 
it  was  very  different,  poor  thkig,  to  the 
open  and  gay  garden  about  which  she 
was  used  to  run. 

The  door  of  her  father's  miserable 
dungeon  was  soon  thrown  open,  and 
the  child  rushed  into  hb  arms.  <^  I 
do  not  like  you  t(|dive  in  this  dark 
place,"  she  cried,  "come  home  with 
me  and  Mr.  Saville,  and  see  mother, 
who  is  in  bed." 

^  I  cannot  come  just  now,  my 
child,"  he  answered,  "  you  must  stay 
a  little  with  me,  and  throw  your  arms 
round  my  neck,  and  lean  your  face  on 
mine." 

The  child  did  as  she  was  bid,  and 
the  poor  man  straining  her  to  him, 
sobbed  bitterly  and  convulsively.  Af- 
ter a  few  minutes,  he  looked  with 
yearning  eyes  in  her  face,  saying, 
^^  come,  my  child,  sing  your  poor  fath- 
er that  pretty  song  which  you  know 
you  used  10  sing  to  him  when  he  was 
tired  on  an  evening.  I  am  not  well 
DOW.  Look  at  me,  my  dear,  and 
sing." 

How  sad  it  was  to  hear  the  child^ 
voice  warbling  in  that  dolorous  place ! 
I  could  scarcely  bear  it ;  but  it  seemed 
to  have  a  contrary  effect  on  the  father, 
his  eyes  were  lighted  up,  and  a  smile 
appeared  in  his  countenance.  The 
song  was  of  love,  and  woody  retire- 
ment, and  domestic  repq6e,.and  the 
baffled  frowns  of  fortune.  While  the 
child  was  singing  I  left  the  cell,  to 


make  some  arrangements  with  the 
gaoler,  who  was  walking  ckwc  to  the 
door.  I  had  not,  however,  been  dm 
engaged  for  five  minutes,  before  I 
heard  something  fall  heavily,  aecoa- 
panied  by  a  violent  scream,  and  nisb- 
ing  into  the  cell,  I  saw  the  onhf^PfT 
convict  lying  on  the  floor,  and  his  fit- 
tie  girl  clinging  round  hb  neck.  The 
gaoler  and  I  lifted  him  op,  and  akina- 
ed  at  the  hue  of  his  face,  calkd  on  tie 
medical  attendant  of  the  prison,  whe 
soon  told  us  the  poor  man  was  dead. 

The  account  given  by  the  chiW 
was — that  after  she  had  finished  snig- 
ing,  her  father  started,  then  looked 
slrerply  in  her  face,  and  with  astianp 
and  short  laugh,  fell  from  kiscbtfr. 

I  suppose  she  had  sung  him  into  a 
temporary  forgetfulness  of  his  sitoi' 
tion  ;  that  she  had  conjured  into  Iw 
mind,  with  herinnocem  voicc,abk!i- 
ed  dream  of  past  days  and  enjoymentt, 
and  that  the  spell  ceased  when  her 
melody  ceased  ;  the  troth  of  ttengs 
had  beat  upon  his  heart  with  too  rtan- 
ning  a  contrast,  and  it  had  burst 


ANECDOTE  OF  A  ROBBER* 
At  the  second  encampment  of  the 
English  in  Bojepore,  one  of  the  ofr 
cera  had  a  horse  stolen  by^natiw, 
who  missing  the  road,  before  he  could 
dear    the    tents,  was    detected  and 
brought  back.    The  gentleman  highly 
pleased  at  recovering  his  horse,  and 
much  surprised  at  tl»  fellow's  dexter- 
ity in  carrying  him  off,  while  six  or 
seven  grooms  were  sleephig  aroand 
him,  was  more  inclined  to  admite  the 
address  and  expertness  of  thethief^ 
than  to  punish  him  for  the  robbery. 
The  next  morning,  when  bit  resent- 
ment was  entirely  subsided  into  cow- 
osityj  he  ordered  the  Bojeporeaa  to 
be  brought  before  him,  and  ^'^^'^ 
by  what  cootrivaoce  be  had  wwted 

♦The  Zemiodftra  of  Bojepore  emplof  * 
great  number  of  thieves,  who  jaay  tnejM 
certain  part  of  the  booty  colleeted  two 

^^•"^"•igit  zed  by  Google 


HlSTOKICAft. 


341 


bis  design ;  the  follow  answered^  that  11 
he  could  not  clearly  relate  it,  but  that  || 
if  bis  honour  desirMl  it,  be  would  show  ^ 
him  the  mode  in  which  he  bad  con- 
ducted the  theft-   "  Well  theu,"  repli- 
id  the  officer,  ^^  since  you  are  so  bad 
at  ferbal  description,  let  us  see  how 
you  did  it."     Being  arrived  at  the 
pickets,  the  fellow  crept  softly  under 
the  horse's  belly,    "Now, sir,''  said 
he,  "pray  take   notice — this  is  the 
manner  1  crawled  over  the  grooms: 
the  naxt  thing  I  ba^  to  do,  was  to 
kxMeo  the  horse's  ropes  behind,  which 
I  accomplished  thus;  1  then  put  a  hal- 
ter— observe,  sir,  if  you  please — over 
bis  neck,  thus."    "Admirably  clever, 
by  Jove,"  exclaimed  the  officer,  laugh- 
ing and  rubbing  his  hands."     "In 
this  manner,"  continued  the  thief,  "  I 
jamped  upon  his  back,  and  when  once  | 
I  am  mounted,!  defy  the  devil  to  over- 
\Ae  me."    In  saying  which,  he  gave 
the  horse  a  kick,  and  galloped  away 
inaa  instant,  to  the. astonishment  of 
the  gaping  croud,  and  the  mortifica- 
tion of  the  cajoled  officer. 

CURIOUS  VARIETIES  OF  TASTE,  IN 
FEMALE  BEAUTY  AND  DRESS. 

The  ladies  in  Japan  gild  their  teeth ; 
«iid  those  cf(  the  Indies  paint  them  red. 
The  black  teeth  are  esteemed  the  most 
beautiful  in  GuEurat,  and  in  some  parts 
4ii  America*    In  Greenland,  the  wo- 
men colevr  their  faces  with  blu^and 
yellow.    However  fresh  the  complex^ 
ion  of  a  Muscovite  may  be,  she  woula 
think  herself  very  ugly  if  she  was  not 
iplaistered  over  with  pmnt.    The  Chi- 
nese must  have  their  feet  as  diminutive 
as  ^ose  of  the  she^oats ;  and,  to  ren- 
der them  thus,  their  youdi  is  passed  in 
tortures.    In  ancient  Persia,  an  aqui- 
line note  was  oilen  thought  worthy  of 
the  crown ;  and,  if  there  was  any  com- 
fetitioa  between  two  princes,  the  peo- 
ple generally  went  by  this  criterion  of 
majesty.    In  some  coimtries,  the  mo- 
^lers  break  the  noses  of  their  children ; 
4iid,  in  others,  press  llie  head  between 
two  boards,  that  it  nay  becoioe  square. 


The  modern  Persians  have  a  strong 
aversion  to  red  hair :  the  Turks,  on 
the  contrary,  are  warm  admirer^  of 
these  disgusting  locks.  The  Indian 
beauty  is  thlck^  smeared  with  bear's 
fat ;  and  the  female  Hottentot  receives 
from  the  hand  of  her  lover,  not  silks^ 
or  wreaths  of  flowers,  but  warm  en- 
trails and  reeking  tripe,  to  dress  her- 
self with  enviable  ornanvents. 

At  China,  small  eyes  are  liked ;  and 
tbi  girls  are  continually  plucking  their 
eye-brows,  that  they  may  be  small  and 
long.  The  Turkish  women  dip  a 
gold  brush  in  the  tincture  of  a  black 
drug,  which  they  pass  over  their  eye- 
brows. It  is  too  visible  by  day,  .but 
looks  shining  by  night.  They  tinge 
their  naUs  with  a  rose-colour. 

An  ornament  for  the  iK>se  appears 
to  us  perfectly  unnecessary.  The 
Peruvians,  however,  think  otherwise ; 
and  they  hang  on  it  a  weighty  ring, 
the  thickness  of  which  is  proportioned 
by  the  rank  of  their  husbands.  The 
custom  of  boring  it,  as  our  ladies  do 
their  ears,  is  very  common  in  several 
nations.  Through  the  perforation  are 
hung  various  materials ;  such  as  green 
crystal,  gold,  stones,  a  single  and  some- 
times a  great  number  of  gold  rings. — 
This  is  rather  troublesome  to  them  in 
blowing  their  noses ;  and  the  fact  is, 
some  have  informed  us,  that  the  In- 
dian ladies  never  perform  this  very 
useful  operation. 

The  female  head-dress,  is  carried 
in  some  countries,  to  singular  extrava- 
gance. The  Chinese  fair  carries  on 
her  head  the  figure  of  a  certain  bird. 
This  bird  is  composed  of  copper,  ot 
of  gold,  according  to  the  quality  of  the 
person:  the  wings,  spread  out,  fall 
over  the  front  of  the  head-dress,  and 
conceal  the  temples.  The  tail,  long 
and  open,  forms  a  beautiful  tuft  of 
feathers.  The  beak  covers  the  top  of 
the  nose ;  the  neck  is  fastened  to  the 
body  of  the  artificial  animal  by  a 
spring,  that  it  may  the  more  freely 
play,  and  tremble  at  the  slightest  mo- 

Ition. 
The  extravagance  of  tlie  Myantse* 


$42 


MlSCELLAKiroUS. 


is  far  niorb  ridiculous  than  the  above. 
They  carry  on  their  heads  a  slight 
board,  rather  longer  than  a  foot,  and 
about  six  inches  broad :  with  this  they 
cover  their  hair,  and  seal  it  with  wax. 
They  cannot  lie  down,  nor  lean,  with- 
out keeping  the  neck  very  straight; 
and  the  country  being  very  woody,  it 
is  not  oncommon  to  find  them  with 
their  head-dress  entangled  in  the  trees. 
Whenever  they  comb  their  hair,  they 
pass  an  hour  by  the  fire  melting  the 
wax ;  but  this  combing  is  only  per- 
/ormed  once  or  twice  a  year. 

To  this  curious  account,  extracted 
from  Duhalde ;  we  must  join  that  of 
the  inhabitants  of  the  Land  of  Nntal. 
They  wear  caps  or  bonnets,  from  six 
to  ten  inches  high,  composed  of  the 
fat  of  oxen.  They  then  gratlually 
annoint  the  head  with  a  purer  grease ; 
which  nlixing  with  the  hair,  fastens 
these  bonnets  for  their  lives! 


«  We  art  till  bom  emutly'*  mys  the  Dtciara- 
tion  of  hidtpendtnce. 

SOUTH  CAROLINA  LAW. 

The  following  notification,  was  handed 
Ii|lt  week  to  several  individuals  of  the  der- 
^  and  laity  of  Charleston,  South  Caro- 
lina. 

City  CouncilyJan.  15, 1821. 

Resolved,  That  the  marshal  be  in- 
structed to  inform  the  ministers  of  the 
^pel  and  others,  who  keep  night  and 
Sunday  schoolsy  for  slavesy  tliat  the 
education  of  suck  persons  is  prohibit- 
ed by  lawy  and  that  the  city  council 
feel  imperiously  bound  to  enforce  the 
penalty  against  those  who  may  here- 
after forfeit  the  same. 

Extract  from  the  minutes, 

John  J*  Lafar,  City  Marshal, 


REMARKABLE    INSTANCE  OF  COU- 
RAGE  IN  A  MOHAWK  INDIAN. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  French  and 
Indian  war  in  1 757^  this  was  exempli- 
fied in  one  of  those  savages  encamped 
^i  Fort  George,  in  Canada ;  occasion- 
i  by  a  sentence  being  passed  upon  a 


soldier  to  receive  five  hundred  lashes 
for  intoxication. 

An  Indiart  knoihi  by  the  name  of 
Silver  Heels,  from  his  superior  agility, 
as  well  as  his  admirable  finesse  in  the 
art  of  war,  and  who  had  killed  more 
of  the  enemy  than  any  one  of  the  tribes 
in  alliance  with  Great  Britain,  acci- 
dentally came  into  the  fort,  just  before 
the  soldier  was  to  receive  his  punish- 
ment; and  expressed  his  displeasure 
that  a  man  should  be  so  shamefully 
disgraced.  He  .went  up  to  the  com- 
manding officer,  and  asked  him  what 
crime  the  soldier  had  committed;  the 
officer  not  choosing  lo  be  questioned, 
ordered  one  of  his  men  to  send  Silver 
Heels  away,  and  to  inform  him  that 
the  company  of  Indians  was  not  agree- 
able on  such  occasions :  "  Wa !  wa  f 
oh !  oh  !  oh !"  replied  the  savage, «  but 
what  is  warrior  tied  up  for  ?"  "  For 
getting  drunk,"  answered  the  soldier. 
«  Is  that  all .?"  said  Sijwr  Heels,  "then 
provide  an  other  set  of  halberds,  and  tie 
up  your  chief,  for  he  ^ets  drunk  twice 
a  day."  Having  said  so,  he  instantly 
left  the  foit,  telling  the  soldier  he 
should  quickly  return,  to  endeavour  to 
prevent  the  punishment  btfing  inflict- 
ed. Soon  after  the  deVmquent  was 
tied  up,  ,and  the  drummers  in  waiting 
to  obey  orders,  when  Silver  Heels  re- 
turned $  and  going  up  to  the  officer, 
with  a  tomahawk  an4  scalping  ^nife, 
said  to  him,  "  Father,  are  ^ou  a  war- 
rioif  or  do  you  only  think  yourself  so  ? 
Jf  you  are  brave,  you  will  not  suffer 
your  men  to,  strike  this  soldier  whilst 
1  am  in  this  fort.  Let  me  advise  yoa 
not  to  spill  the  good  English  blood 
which  to-morrow  may  be  wanting  to 
oppose  the  enemy."  The  officer, 
tumitag  upon  his  heel,  answered  with 
an  iti£gnant  look^  ^Mhat  the  soldier 
had  transgressed,  and  mi»t  be  flogged.'' 
<^  Well  I  replied  Stiver  Heels,  then  fiog 
him,  and  we  shall  soon  see  whether 
you  are  as  brave  a  warrior  as  an 
Indian." 

About  two  days  after,  the  officer  wm 
riding  at  some  distance  from  the  fort^ 
and  Silver  Hecb  was  lying  flat  on  bis 


JUSTORICAL. 


34*3 


stofBach,  according  to  his  usual  cus- 
tom when  he  watched  to  surpriZiC  an 
enemy.  I'he  officer  passed  without 
perceiviug  him,  wheu  he  instantly 
sprung  up,  and  laying  hold  of  the 
horse's  bridle,  told  the  officer  to  dis- 
mount and  fi^ht  hira.  The  officer 
judging  it  improper  to  risk  his  life 
against  a  savage,  refused  to  dismount, 
and  endeavoured  to  spur  his  horse. — 
Silver  Heels  perceiving  his  intention; 
tomahawked  the  horse,  who  fell  down 
suddenly,  and  the  officer  rolled  on  the 
ground  without  being  hurt.  "  Now," 
says  Silver  Heels,  "  we  are  on  equal 
terms,  and,  as  you  have  a  brace  of  pis- 
tols and  a  sword,  you  cannot  have  any 
objection  to  fighting  me."  The  offi- 
cer still  refusing.  Silver  Heels  told  him, 
"that  he  thought  himself  a  warrior 

'  when  he  ordered  one  of  his  white 
slaves  to  be  flogged  for  a  brench  of 
martial  law,  but  that  he  had  now  for- 
got the  character  he  then  assumed,  or 
be  certainly  would  have  foiight  him  ; 
and  looking  very  sternly,  added,  that 
he  had  a  great  miiul  to  make  him 
change  his  climate ;  but  as  that  mode 
of  proceeding  would  not  answer  his 
purpose,  and  sufficiently  expose  him 
among  his  brother  warriors,  he  might 
walk  home  as  soon  as  he  pleased ;  and 
that  to-morrow  morning  he  would 
come  to  the  fort  with  the  horse's  scalps 
and  relate  the  circumstance."  The 
officer  rejoiced  to  escape  so  well, 
though  he  was  obliged  to  walk  a  dis- 
tance of  three  miles. 

The  next  morning  Silver  Heels  ar- 
rived apd  asked  to  see  the  officer,  but 
was  denied^  admission  into  his  pre- 
sence. Some  of  his  brother  officers 
came  out,  and  inquired  his  business ; 
he  related  to  (hem  the  circumstance 
between  the  officer  and  himself,  and 
exhibited  the  trophy;  adding,  <^tbat 
to-morrow  he  intended  going  to  war, 
and  should  make  a  point  of  taking  an 
old  woman  prisoner,  whom  be  would 
send  to  take  command  of  the  fort,  as 
the  great  chief  was  only  fit  to  fight 

^^th  bis  dog  or  cat,  when  he  was  eat-  i; 

Ving,  lest  they  should  hav^  n^pre  thao  |] 


him."  Then  asking  for  some  rum, 
which  was  given  him,  he  left  the  fort 
to  fulfil  his  promise ;  but  was  soon  af- 
ter killed  in  an  engagement,  fighting 
manfully  at  the  head  of  a  party  of  Mo- 
hawks, near  the  Bloody  Pond,  joining 
to  lord  Loudou's  road,  in  the  way  to 
Albany. 


EXTRAORDINARY  PROVIDENCE. 

A  foreign  paper  gives  the  following 
account  of  the  interposition  of  Divine 
Providence  in  favour  of  a  widow  and 
her  family,  near  Dordrecht,  ih  the  pro- 
vince of  Holland.  This  industrious 
woman  wat  left  by  her  husband,  who 
was  an  eminent  carpenter,  a  comfort- 
able house,  with  some  land,  and  two 
boats  for  carrying  merchandize  and 
passengers  on  the  canals.  She  was 
also  supposed  to  be  worth  above  ten 
thousand  guilders  in  j-eady  money, 
which  she  employed  in  an  hempen 
aud  sail  cloth  manufactory,  as  the 
means  not  only  of  increasing  her  for- 
tune, but  of  instructing  her  children 
(a  son  and  two  daughters)  in  those 
useful  branches  of  business. 

One  night,  about  nine  o'clock,  when 
the  workmen  were  gone  home,  a  per- 
son dressed  in  uniform,  with  a  mus- 
ket and  broad  sword,  came  to  her 
house^  and  reooested  lodging.  <<  I  let 
no  lockings,  friend,"  said  the  widow ; 
^^  and  besides,  I  have  no  spare  bed,  un- 
less you  sleep  with  my  son,  which  I 
think  very  improper,  being  a  perfect 
stranger  to  us  all."  The  soldier  then 
shewed  a  discharge  from  Dicsbach's 
regiment,  signed  by  the  major,  who 
gave  him  an  excellent  character^  and 
a  passport  from  Comte  de  Mailliebois, 
governor  of  Breda. 

The  widow,  believing  the  stranger 
to  be  an  honest  man,  as  he  really  was, 
called  her  son,  and  asked  him  if  he 
would  accommodate  a  veteran,  whe 
had  served  the  republio  thirty  years 
with  reputation,  with  a  part  of  his  bed. 
The  young  man  consented,  and  the 
soldier  having  tieen  hospitably  enter- 
tained, withdrew  to  rest.    Some  hours 


344 


UlSTOaiCAL. 


after,  a  loud  thumping  was  heard  at 
the  street  door,  which  roused  the  sol- 
dier, who  stole  softly  jdown  stairs,  and 
listened  in  the  hall.  The  blows  were 
repeated,  and  the  door  almost  broken 
through  by  a  sledge,  or  some  heavy 
instrument.  By  this  time,  the  af- 
frighted widow  and  her  daughters 
were  running  abopt,  and  screaming 
murder !  murder  !  but  the  son  having 
joined  the  soldier,  with  a  case  of  load- 
ed pistols,  and  the  lalter,  screwing  on 
his  bayonet,  and  fresh  priming  his 
piece,  which  was  well  filled  with  slugs, 
desired  the  women  to  retire,  as  bloody 
work  might  be  expected  in  a  few 
minutes. 

Soon  after,  the  door  was  burst  in, 
and  two  fellows  entered;  they  were 
instantly  shot  by  the  son,  who  dis- 
charged both  his  pistols  at  once.  Two 
more  returned  the  favour  from  with- 
out, but  luckily  without  effect;  and 
the  intrepid  veteran,  taking  immediate 
advantage  of  the  discharge  of  their 
arms,  rushing  on  them  like  a  lion,  ran 
one  through  with  his  bayonet,  and 
while  the  other  was  running  away, 
lodged  the  contents  of  his  piece  be- 
tween his  shoulders,  and  he  dropped 
dead  on  the  spot  They  then  closed 
the  door  as  well  as  they  could,  re- 
loaded their  arms,  made  a  good  fire, 
and  watched  till  daylight,  when  a 
number  of  weavers  and  spinners  came 
to  resume  their  employments.  We 
inay  guess  their  horror  and  surprise 
on  seeing  four  men  dead  on  a  dung- 
^iU,  whither  the  soldier  had  dragged 
them  before  the  door  was  shut. 

The  burgomaster  and  his  Syndic 
attended,  and  took  the  depositions  of 
the  family,  relative  to  this  affair.  The 
bodies  were  buried  in  a  cross-road, 
and  a  stone  erected  over  their  grave, 
with  this  inscription :  ^<  Here  lies  the 
wretched  carcases  of  four  unknown 
ruffians,  who  deservedly  lost  theur 
lives  in  an  attempt  to  rob  or  murder  a 
worthy  womab,  and  her  family.  A 
stranger  who  slept  in  the  house,  to 
which  Divine  Providence  undoubtedly 
directed  him,  was  the  principal  instru- 


ment id  preventing  xlaff  per^tradoff 
of  such  horrid  designs,  which  ju^y 
entitles  him  to  a  lasting  memorial,  and 
the  tlianks  of  the  public.  John  Adri- 
an de  Vries,  a  discharged  soldier, 
from  the  regiment  of  .Diesbach,  a  na- 
tive of  Middleburgh,  in  Zealand,  and 
upwards  of  seventy  years  old,  was  the 
David  who  slew  two  of  these  Goliahs ; 
the  rest  being  killed  by  the  son  of  the 
family.'^ " 

The  widow  presented  the  soldier 
with  one  hundred  guineas,  and  the 
city  settled  a  handsome  pension  on 
him  for  the  rest  of  his  life. 


HISTORICAL* 

Fur  the  Masokic  Rgoistkr. 

Tiie  "  Life  of  General  Jackson,'' 
published  a  few  years  since  in  an  ocu- 
vo  volume,  was  commenced  by  the 
late  Major  Ileid,  (who  served  as  ao 
aid  to  him  in  the  late  war,)  and  com- 
pleted by  the  honourable  John  H.  Ear 
ton,  now  a  senator  in  congress,  from 
Tennessee.  From  that  work,  (the 
fidelity  of  which  general  Jackson  him- 
self has  acknowledged,)  we  have  made 
the  following  abridgement. 

BIOGRAPHY  OF  GENERAL  JACKSOIY. 

The  parents  of  Andrew  Jaeksoa 
were  Irish.  His  father  (Andrew)  the 
youngest  son  of  his  farailTy  emigrated 
to  America  about  the  year  1765, 
bringing  with  him  his  two  sons,  Hugh 
and  Robert,  both  very  young.  LAnding 
at  Charleston,  in  South-Carolina,  he 
purchased  a  tract  of  landf  in  what  was 
then  called,  the  Waxsaw  settlement, 
about  forty-five  miles  above  Camden ; 
at  which  place  the  subject  of  this  his* 
tory  was  bom,  on  the  15th  of  March, 
1767.  Shortly  after  his  birth  his  fm- 
ther  died,  leaving  three  sons  to  be  pro- 
vided for  by  theur  mother.  She  ap^ 
pears  to  have  been  an  exemplary  wo- 
man, and  to  have  executed  the  arda-' 
ous  duties  which  had  devolved  on  her, 
with  great  faithfulness  and  success. 
To  the  lessoiis  she  ipculcated  on  the 


HISTORICAL. 


345 


youthful  minds  of  her  sons,  was,  no 
doubt,  owing,  in  a  great  measure,  that 
(xed  opposition  to  British  tyranny 
and  oppression,  which  afterwards  so 
much  distinguished  them.  Often  would 
slie  spend  the  winter's  night,  in  re- 
couuting  to  them  the  sufferings  of  tbeir 
grtndfather,  at  the  siege  of  Carrick- 
fergus,  and  the  oppressions  exercised 
by  the  nol>ility  of  Ireland,  over  the 
labouring  poor ;  impressing  it  upon 
them,  as  their  first  duty,  to  expend 
their  lives,  if  it  should  become  neces- 
sary, in  defending  and  supporting  the 
I    natural  rights  of  man. 

Inheriting  but  a  small  patrimony 
from  their  father,  it  was  impossible 
that  all  the  sons  could  receive  an  ex- 
pensive education.  The  two  eldest 
were  theretee  only  taught  the  rudi- 
ments of  tbeir  mother  tongue,  at  a 
common  country  school.  But  Andrew, 
being  intended  by  his  mother  for  the 
nuntstcy;^  was  sent  to  a  flourishing 
acad^rr  in  the  Waxsaw  meeting- 
btMise,  luperiDtendeil  by  Mr.  Humph- 
ries. Here  be  was  placed  on  the  stu- 
dy of  the  dead  languages,  and  contin- 
ued until  the  revolutionary  war,  ex- 
I  teading  its  ravages  into  that  section  of 
I  Sotth-Carolina,  where  be  then  was, 
I  rendered  it  necessary  that  every  one 
should  betake  himself  to  the  American 
I  standard,  seek  protection  with  the  en- 
'  emy,  or  flee  his  country.  It  was  not 
an  alternative  that  admitted  of  moch 
deliberation.  The  natural  ardour  of 
bis  temper,  deriving  eni;ouragement 
from  his  mother,  whose  feelings  were 
not  less  alive  on  the  occasion  than  hb 
own,  quickly  determined  him  in  the 
course  to  be  pursued  ;  and  at  the  ten- 
der age  of  fourteen,  witb  his  brother 
Robert,  be  hastened  to  the  American 
camp,  and  engaged  in  the  sei'vice  of 
his  coontry.  His  oldest  brother,  who 
had  prevKMisly  joined  the  army^  had 
loA  his  tife  at  the  battle  of  Stono,  by 
the  excessive  beat  of  the  weather,  and 
the  fatigues  of  the  day. 

Both  Andrew  and  Robert  were  at 
this  period  pretty  well  acquainted 
^th  the  manuel    exercise,  and  had 

U  u 


some  idea  of  the  diflerent  evolutions  of 
the  field,  having  been  indulged  by 
tbeir  mother  in  attending  the  drill, 
and  general  musters. 

The  Americans  being  unequal,  as 
well  by  the  inferiority  of  their  num- 
bers, as  their  discipline,  to  engage  the 
British  army  in  battle,  retired  before 
it,  into  the  interior  of  North-Carolina; 
but  when  they  learned  that  lord  Corn- 
wallis  had  crossed  the  Yadkin,  they 
retuoied  in  small  detachments  to  their 
native  state.  On  their  arrival,  they 
found  lord  Rawdon  in  possession  of 
Camden,  and  the  whole  country 
around  in  a  state  of  desolation.  The 
British  comm'inder  being  advised  of 
the  return  of  the  settlers  of  Waxsaw, 
major  Coffin  was  immediately  des- 
patched thither,  with  a  corps  of  tight 
dragoons,  a  company  of  infantry,  and 
a  considerable  number  of  tories,  for 
their  capture  and  destruction.  Hear- 
ing of  their  approach,  the  settlers, 
without  delay,  appointed  the  Waxsaw 
meeting-house  as  a  place  of  rendes- 
voas,  that  they  might  the  better  col- 
lect tbeir  scattered  strength,  and  ^^ 
cert  some  system  of  operations.—- 
About  forty  of  them  had  accordingly 
assembled  at  this  point,  when  the  ene- 
my approached,  keeping  the  tories, 
who  were  dressed  in  the  common  garb 
of  the  country,  in  front,  whereby  ^is 
little  hand  of  patriots  were  completely 
deceived,  taking  them  for  captain 
Nesbit's  company,  in  expectation  of 
which  they  had  been  waiting.  £lev* 
en  of  them  wore  taken  prisoners ;  the 
rest  with  difficulty  fled,  scattering  and 
betaking  tbemselves  to  the  woods  for 
concealment.  Of  those  who  thus  es- 
caped, though  closely  pursued,  were 
Andrew  Jackson  and  bis  brother,  who 
entering  a  secret  bend  in  a  creek,  that 
was  close  at  hand,  obtained  a  mo- 
mentary respite  from  danger,  and 
avmded,  for  the  sight,  the  pursuit  of 
the  enemy.  The  aext  day,  however, 
Iwving  gone  to  a  ndgbbooring  boose, 
fcHT.the  purpose  of  procuring  some- 
thing to  eat,  they  were  broken  in  upbn, 
and  made  prisoners,  by  Coffin's  d£«r 


346 


HIsrORICACi. 


gooos,  and  a  party  of  tories  who  ao 
companieU  them.  They  had  approach- 
ed the  house  by  a  route  through  the 
woods,  and  thereby  eluded  the  vigi- 
liuce  of  a  sentinel  who  had  been  post- 
ed on  the  road.  Being  placed  under 
guard,  Andrtw  was  ordered,  in  a  ve- 
ry imperious  tone,  by  a  Britbh  officer, 
to  clean  his  boots,  which  had  become 
muddied  in  crossing  a  creek.  This 
order  he  positively  and  peremptorily 
refused  to  obey,  alleging  that  he  look- 
ed- for  such  treatment  as  a  prisom^  of 
war  had  a  right  to  expect.  Incensed 
at  his  refusal,  the  officer  aimed  a  blow 
at  his  head  with  a  drawn  sword, 
which  would,  very  probabJy,  have 
terminated  his  existence,  bad  he  not 
parried  its  effects  by  throwing  up  his 
left  hand,  on  which  be  receiv^  a  se- 
vere wound.  His  brother,  at  the  same 
time,  for  a  similar  offence,  received  a 
deep  cut  on  the  head,  wiiich  afterwards 
occasioned  his  death.  They  were  both 
now  taken  to  gaol,  where,  separated 
and  cbnfined,  they  were  treated  with 
marked  severity,  until  a  few  days  af- 
ter the  battle  before  Camden,  when, 
in  consequence  of  a  partial  exchange, 
effected  by  the  intercessions  and  exer- 
tions of  their  mother,  and  captain 
Walker,  of  the  militia,  they  were  both 
released.  Captain  Walker  had,  in  a 
charge  on  the  rear  of  the  British  army, 
succeeded  in  making  thirteen  prison- 
ers, whom  he  gave  in  exchange  for 
seven  Americans,,  of  which  number 
were  these  two  young  men.  Robert, 
during  his  confinement  in  prison,*  had 
suffered  greatly;  the  wound  on  his 
head,  all  this  time,  having  never  been 
dressed,  was  followed  by  an  inflamma- 
tion of  the  brain,  which,  in  a  few  davs 
after  his  liberation,  brought  him  to  the 
grave.  To  add  to  the  afflictions  «f 
Andrew,  his  mother,  worn  down  by 
grief,  and  her  incessant  exertions  to 
provide  clothing  and  other  comforts 
for  the  suffering  prisoners,  who  had 
been  taken  from  her  neighbourhood, 
exphred,  in  a  few  weeks  ad^er  her  son, 
near  the  lines  of  the  enemy,  in  the  vi- 
cinity Bf  Charl^toB.    Andrew,  the 


IKI.      v^uniiDg, 

tlMi^ild  be 
owm^Kons, 
n  life,  TC  agaio 


last  and  only  surviving  child,  confined 
to  a  bed  of  sickness,  occasioned  by  the 
sufferings  he  had  been  compelled  to 
undergo,  wliilst  a  prisoner,  and  by 
getting  wet,  on  his  return  from  captiv- 
ity, was  thus  left  in  the  wide  world, 
without  a  human  being  with  whom  he 
could  claim  a  near  relationship.  The 
small  pox  beginning,  about -the  same 
time,  to  make  its  appearance  upon 
him,  had  well  nigh  terminated  his  sor- 
rows and  his  existence. 

Having  at  length  recovered  from 
his  complicated  afflictions,  he  entered 
upon  the  enjoyment  of  his  estate, 
which,  although  small,  would  have 
been  sufficient,  uilder  prudent  man- 
agement, to  have  completed  his  edu- 
cation, on  the  liberal  scale  which  his 
mother  had  de^ftneil.  Unfortunately, 
however,  be,  like  too  Ihany  young 
men,  sacrificii^  future  prospects  to 
present  gratification,  expended  it  with 
rather  too.  profuse  a  hand.  Coming, 
at  lenfth,  to  foresee  that^ 
obliged  to  rely^n  his  owa 
for  support  and  sUicess  in  life,  m  agaio 
betook  himself  to  his  studies,  with  in- 
creased industry.  He  recommenced 
under  Mr.  M^Cullock,  in  what  was 
then  called  the  New  Acquisitioo,  near 
Hill's  iron  works.  Here  be  reviiM 
the  languages,  devoting  a  portion  of 
his  time  to  a  desultory  course  of  stc^ 
dies. 

His  education  being  now  completed, 
so  far  as  his  wasted  patrifaony,  and 
the  opportunities  then  afforded  in  that 
section  of  the  country,  would  permit^, 
at  the  age  of  eighteen,  he  turned  his 
attention  to  acquiring  a  profession^*  and 
preparing  himself  to  enter  on  the  busy 
scenes  of  life.  The  pulpit,  for  which 
he  had  been  designed  by  his  mother, 
was  now  abandoned  for  tlie  bar ;  and, 
in  the  winter  of  1784,  he  repaired  to 
Salisbury,  in  North  Carolina,  and 
commenced  the  study  of  the  law,  un- 
der Spruce  M^Cay,  Esq.  (afterwards 
one  of  the  jtidges  of  that  state,)  and 
continued  it  under  colonel  John  Stokes. 
Having  remained  at  Salisbury  until 
the  winter  of  1 7^6,  he  obtained  a  li- 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


mSTORtCAL. 


347 


I 


from  tbe  judges  to  practice,  and 
coBtinued  in  ttie  state  until  the  spring 
of  1788. 

The  observations  be  was  enabled, 
during  this  tirae,  to  make,  satisfied 
him  that  tbi^' state  presented  few  in- 
ducements to  a  young  attorney ;  and 
recollecting  that  he  stoCKl  a  solitary  in- 
dividual in  life,  without  relations  to 
aid  bim  in  the  onset,  when  indhjmera- 
ble  difficulties  arise  and  retard  sue^ 
cess,  be  determined  to  seek  a  new 
coootry.     But  for  this,  he  might  have 
again  returned  to  his   native  state; 
but  the  death  of  every  relation  he  had, 
had  wiped  away  all  those  recollections 
and    circumstances  which  warp  the 
mind  to  the  place  of  its  nativity.  The 
western  parts  o(  the  state  of  Tennes- 
see were,  about  this  time,  often  spo- 
ken of,  as  presenting  flattering  pros- 
pects to  adventurers.     He  immedi- 
ately determined  to  accompany  judge 
M'Nairy  thither,  who  was  appointed, 
and  going  out  to  hold  the  first  supreme 
court  that  had  ever  sat  in  the  state. 
Bavu^  reached  the  Holston,  they  as- 
certaimd  it  would  be  impossible  to 
arrive  at  the  time  appointed  for  the 
dbBioQ  of  the  court;  and  therefore 
determined  to  remain  in  that  country 
oalil  ialL    They  recommenced  their 
joamey    in    October,    and,    passing 
through  the  wilderness,  reached  Nash- 
vitte  ID  the  same  month.    It  bad  not 
baen  Jackson's  intention,  certainly,  to 
toake  Tennessee  the  place  of  his  fu- 
ture rendence;  his  ..visit  was  merely 
experimental,  and  his  stay  remained  to 
be  determined  by  the  advantages  that 
migfat  be  disclosed ;  but  finding,  soon 
after  bis  arrival,  that  a  conuderable 
opening  was  offered  for  the  success  of 
a  young  attorney,  be  determined  to 
weaoML     His  industry  and  attention 
soon  brought  bim  forward,  and  intro- 
daced  bim  to  a  profitable  practice. 
Shortly  afterwards,  be  was  appointed 
attorney-general  for  the  district,   in 
triiich  capacity  be  continued  to  act  for 
aev^id  years. 

lodiaa  depredations  being  then  fre- 
qoeot  on  the  Cumberland,  every  man 


became  a  soldier.  Unassisted  by  the 
government,  the  settlers  were  forced 
to  rely  on  their  own  bravery  and  ex- 
ertions. Although  young,  no  person 
was  more  distinguished  than  Andrew 
Jackson,  in  defending  the  country 
against  these  predatory  incursions  of 
the  savages,  who  continually  harrass- 
ed  the  frontiers,  and  not  nn frequently 
apjH-oached  the  heart  of  the  settle 
ments,  which  were  thin,  but  not  wide- 
ly extended.  He  aided  alike  in  gar- 
risoning the  forts,  and  in  pursuing 
and  chastising  the  enemy* 

In  the  year  1796,  having,  by  his 
patriotism,  firmness,  and  talents,  se- 
cured to  himself  a  distinguished  stand- 
ing with  all  classes,  he  was  chosen  one 
of  the  members  of  the  convention,  for 
establishing  a  constitution  for  the  state. 
His  good  conduct  and  zeal  for  the  pu\\- 
lie  interest,  on  this  occasion,  bronc^lrt 
him  more  conspicuously  to  vie^  and, 
without  proposing  or  soliciting,  nt  was, 
in  the  same  year,  elected  a  member  #f 
the  house  of  representatives,  in  Con- 
gress, for  the  state  of  Tennessee. — 
The  following  year,  his  reputation  con- 
tinuing to  increase,  and  every  bosom 
feeling  a  wish  to  raise  him  to  still  high- 
er honours,  he  was  chosen  a  member 
of  the  United  States*  senate. 

The  state  of  Tennessee,  on  its  ad- 
mission into  the  Union,  comprising  but 
one  military  division,  and  general 
Conway,  who  commanded  it,  as  ma- 
jor-general, dying  about  this  time, 
Jackson,  without  being  consulted  on 
the  subject,  and  without  the  least  inti- 
mation of  what  was  in  agitation,  was 
chosen,  by  the  field  officers,  to  succeed 
him« 

At  this  period,  the  country  was  dis- 
Imcted  by  party  spirit,  which  prevail- 
ed more  generally,  and  to  a  greater 
excess  than  has  since  been  known. — 
The  causes  of  contention  have  long 
ago  ceased,  and  many  of  the  principal 
actors  themselves  have  now  quit  the 
political  stage:  no  improper  motives 
can  therefore  be  attributed  to  the  re- 
marks which  may  be  offered  on  the 
occasion.     Mr.  /Ad^maiihen  Presi* 

digitized  by  V 


'Sgl^" 


3b0 


HISTORICAL.. 


this   disquisition,  and  will  convey  a 
more  just  idea  than  is  usually  enter- 
tained of  the  original  genius,  and  ex- 
tent of  political  wisdom  which  distin- 
guished this  illustrious  mart.     When 
Alexander  became  master  of  the  Per- 
sian empire,  he  early  perceived  that 
with  all  the  power  of  his  hereditary 
dominions,  reinforced  by  the  troops 
which  the  ascendency  he  had  acquired 
over  the  various  states  of  Greece  might 
enable  him  to  raise  there,  he  could  uot 
hope  to  retain  in  subjection  territories 
so  extensive  and  populous ;  that  to  ren- 
der his  authority  secure  and  permanent, 
it  must  be  established  in  the  affection 
of  the  nations  which  he  had  subdued, 
and  maintained   by  their  arms;  and 
that  in  order  to  acquire  this  advan- 
tage, all  distinction  between  the  victors 
aud  vanquished  must  be  abolished ; 
and  his  £uropean  and  Asiatic  sub- 
jects must   be  incorporated,  and   be- 
come one  people,  by  obeying  the  same 
laws,  and  by  adopting  the  same  man- 
ners, institutions,  and  discipline.     I  lib- 
eral as  this  plan  of  policy  was,  and 
well  adapted  to  accomplish  what  he 
had  in  view,  nothing  could  be  more  re- 
pugnant to  the  ideas  and  prejudices  of 
his  countrymen.      The  Greeks  had 
luch  an  high  opinion  of  the  orfe-cm- 
inence  to  which  they  were^ised  by 
civilization  and  science,  tj>itl  they  seem 
hardly  to  have  ackn9<vfedged  the  rest 
of  mankind  to  be  oi  the  same  spe- 
cies with  themselves.    To  every  other 
people  they  gave  the  degrading  appel- 
lation of  barbarians;   and  in  conse- 
quence of  their  own  boasted  superior- 
ity, they  asserted  a  right  of  dominion 
over  them,  in  Hhe  same  manner  as  the 
soul  has  over  the  body,  and  men  have 
j^ver  irrational  animals.     Extravagant 
as  this  pretension  may  now  appear,  it 
found  admission,  to  the  disgrace  of  an- 
cient philosophers,  into  all  the  schools. 
Aristotle,  full  of  this  opinion,  in  sup- 
port of  which  he  employs  arguments 
more  subtle  than  solid^  advised  Alex- 
ander to  govern  the  Greeks  like  sub- 
jects, and  the  barbarians  as  slaves ;  to 
consider  the  former  as  companions,  the 


latter  as  creatures  of  an  inferior  na- 
ture.    But  the  sentiments  of  the  pupil 
were  more  enlarged  than  those  of  his 
master;  and  his  experience  in  govern- 
ing men,  taught  the  monarch  what  the 
siieculative  science  of  the  philosopher 
did  not  discover.     Soon  after  the  vic^ 
tory  at  Arbela.  Alexander  himself,  a.ul, 
by  his  persuasion,  many  of  his  officers, 
assumed  the  Persian  dress,  and  con- 
formed to  several  of  their  customs. — 
At  the  same  time  he  encouraged  the 
Persian  nobles  to  imitate  the  manners 
oT  the  Macedonians,  to  learn  the  Greek 
language,  and  to  acquire  a  relish  for 
the  beauties  of  the  elegant  writers  is 
that  tongue,  which  were  then  univer- 
sally studied  and  admired.     In  order 
to  render  the  union  more  complete,  he 
resolved  to  marry  one  of  the  daugh- 
ters of  Darius,  and  chuse  wives  for  a 
hundred  of  his   principal    officers  in 
the  most  illustrious  Persian  families. 
Their  nuptials  were  celebrated  with 
great    pomp  and   festivity,  and   with 
high  exultation  of  the  conquered  peo- 
ple.     In    imitation  of  them,  above 
10,000  Macedonians  of  inferior  rank 
married   Persian  women,  to  each  of 
whom  Alexander  gave  nuptial  pres- 
ents, as  a  testimony  of  his  approbation 
of  their  conduct.      But  assiduously  as 
Alexander  laboured  to  unite  his  £uro« 
pean  and  Asiatic  subjects,  by  the  most 
indissoluble  ties,  he  did  not  trust  eQ> 
tirely  to  the  success  of  that  measure 
for  the  security  of  his  new  conquests. 
In  every  province  which  he  subdued, 
he  made  choice  of  proper   stations, 
where  he  built  and  fortified  cities,  in 
which  he  placed  garrisons,  composed 
partly  of  such  of  the  natives  as  con- 
formed to   the  Grecian  manners  and 
discipline,  and  partly  of  such  of  his 
European  subjects,  as  were  worn  oat 
with  the  fatigues  of  service,  and  wish- 
ed for  repose,  and  a  permanent  estab- 
lishment.    These  cities   were  mime*, 
rous,  and  served  not  only  as  a  chain  of 
posts  to  keep  open  the  conununicatioa 
between  the  different  provinces  of  .his 
dominions,  but  as  places  of  strengtb 
to  over-awe  and  curb  the  ponquereil 

Digitized  by  VjOOQiC 


mSTOBICAL. 


8M 


people*.     Thirty  thousand  of  his  new 
subjects,  who  had  been  disciplinf*d  in 
tliese  cities,  and  armed  after  the  Euro- 
pean fashion,  appeared  before  Alexan- 
der in  Susa,  and  were  formed  by.  him 
into  that  compact  solid  body  of  infan- 
try, known  by  the  name  of  the  Phalanx, 
which   constitute(i  the  strength  of  a 
Macedonian  army.     But  in  order  to 
secure  entire  authority  over  this  new 
cor|)s,  as  well  as  to  render  it  more  ef- 
fective^ he  appointed  that  every  officer 
in  it  entrusted  with  command,  either 
saperioror  subaltern,  should  be  £uro- 
peaa.     As  the  ingenuity  of  mankind 
-  naturally  has  recourse  in  similar  situa- 
tions to  the  same  expedients,  the  Euro- 
pean powers,  who  now  in  their  Indian 
territories  employ  numerous  bodies  of 
the  natives  iu  their  service,  have,  in 
forming  the   establishment    of    these 
troops,  adopted  the  same  maxims ;  and, 
probably  without   knowing    it,  have 
modelled  their    battalions  of  Sepoys 
upon  the  same  principles  as  Alexander 
I      did  his  Phalanx  of  Persians.     The  far- 
ther Alexander  pushed  his  conquests 
from   the  banks    of  the    Euphrates, 
which  may  be  considered  as  the  centre 
of  his  dominions^  he  fouiid  it  necessa- 
ry to  build  and  to  fortify  a  great  num- 
ber of  cities.     Several  of  these  to  the 
east  and  south  of  the  Caspian  Sea  are 
mentioned  by  ancient  authors  ^  and  in 
India  itself,  he  founded  two  cities  on 
the  banks  of  the  Hydaspes,  and  a  third 
on  the  Acesines,  both  navigable  rivers : 
which,  after  uniting  their  streams,  fall 
into  the  Indus.     From  the  choice  of 
such  situations,  it  is  obvious  that  he  in- 
tended, by  means  of  these  cities,  to 
keep  open  a  communication  with  In- 
dia, not  only  by  land,  but  by  sea.     It 
was  chiefly  with  a  view  to  the  latter  of 
these  objects  (as  I  have  already  ob- 
served^ that  he  examiyed  the  naviga- 
tion of  the  ^dus  with  so  much  atten- 
tion.    Witti  t^  same  view,  on  his  re- 
turn to  Sosa,  he,  in  person,  surveyed 
the  course  of  the  Euphrates  and  Ti- 
gris, and  gave  directions  to  remove  the 
cataracts  or  dams,  with  which  the  an- 
cient raonarchs  of  Persia,  induced  by 


a  peculiar  precept  of  their  religion, 
which  enjoined  them  to  guard  with  the 
utmost  care  against  defiling  any  of  the 
elements,  had    constructed    near  the 
mouths  of   these  rivers,  in  order  to 
shut  out  their  subjects  from  any  access 
to  the  ocean.     By  opening  the  naviga- 
tion in  this  manner,  he  proposed,  that 
the  valuable    commodities  of    India 
should  be  conveyed  from  the  Persian 
Giilf  into  the  interior  parts  of  his  Asiat- 
ic dominions,  while   by  the  Arabiaa 
Gulf  they  should  be  carried  to  Alexan- 
dria, and  disuibuted  to  the  rest  of  the 
world.     Grand  and  extensive  as  these 
schemes  were,  the  precautions  employ- 
ed, and  the  arrangements  made  for 
carrying  them  into  execution,  were  so 
various,  and  so  proper,  that  Alexander 
had  good  reason  to  entejrtain  sanguine 
hopes  of  their  proving  successful.     At 
the  time  when  the  mutinous  spirit  of 
his  soldiers  obliged  him  to  relinquish 
his  operations  in  India,  be  was  not  thur- 
ty  years  of  age  complete.     At  this  ep- 
terprizing  period  of  life,  a  prince,  of  a 
spirit  so  active,  persevering,  and  inde- 
fatigable, must  have  soon  found  means 
to  resume  a   favourite    measure,    on 
which  he  had  been  long  intent.     If  he 
had  invaded  India  a  second  time,  he 
would  aot,  as  formerly,  have  been  obli* 
ged  to  force  his  way  through  hostile 
and  unexplored  regions,  opposed  at 
every  step  by  nations  and  tribes  of  bar- 
barians, whose  names  had  never  reach- 
ed (Greece.     All  Asia,  from  the  shores 
of  the  Ionian  sea,  to  th^  banks  of  the 
Ilyphasis,  would  then  hav<e  been  sub^ 
ject  to  his  dominions;  and  through 
that  immense  stretch  of  country  be 
had  established  such  a  chain  of  cities, 
or  fortified  stations,  that  his  armies 
might  have  continued  then*  notarch  whh 
safety,  and  have  found  a  regular  suc- 
cession of  magazines  provided  for  their 
subsistence.     Nor  would  it  have  been 
difficult  for  him  to  brrog  into  the  field 
forces  sufficient  to  have  achieved  the 
conquest  of  a  country  so  poptdous  and 
extensive  as  India.    Having  armed  and 
disciplined  his  subjects  in  the  east  like 
Europeans,  they  would  have  been  am- 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


352 


GEOGRAPHtCAt>. 


bitious  to  imitate  and  to  equal  their  in- 
structors ;  and  Alexander  miglit  have 
drawn  recruits,  not  from  his  scanty  do- 
mains in  Macedonia  and  Greece,  .but 
from  the  vast  regions  of  Asia,  which, 
in  every  age,  has  covered  the  earth, 
and  astonished  mankind  with  its  nume- 
rous armies. 

When  Alexander,  at  the  head  of 
such  a  formidable  power,  had  'reached 
the  confines  of  India,  he  might  have 
entered  it  under  circumstances  very 
different  from  those  in  his  first  expedi- 
tion. He  had  secured  a  firm  footing 
there,  partly  by  means  of  the  garrisons 
which  he  left  in  the  three  cities  which 
he  had  buih  and  fortified,  and  partly 
by  his  alliance  with  Taxiles  and  Porus. 
These  two  Indian  princes,  won  by 
Alexander's  humanity  and  benificence, 
which,  as  they  were  virtues  seldom 
displayed  in  the  ancient  mode  of  car- 
rying on  war,  excited  of  course  an 
higher  degree  of  admiration  and  grati- 
tude, had  continued  steady  in  their  at- 
tachment to  the  Macedonians.  Re-in- 
forccd  by  their  troops,  and  guided  by 
their  information  as  well  as  by  the  ex- 
perience which  he  had  acquired  in  his 
former  campaigns,  Alexander  must 
have  made  rapid  progress  in  a  country, 
where  every  invader,  from  his  time  to 
the  present  age,  has  proved  successful. 

But  this,  and  all  (lis  other  splendid 
schemes,  were  terminated  at  once  by 
his  untimely  death.  In  consequence 
of  that,  however,  events  took  place, 
which  illustrate  and  confirm  the  just- 
ness of  the  preceding  speculations  and 
conjectures,  by  evidence  the  most 
striking  and  satisfactory.  When  that 
empire,  which  the  superior  genius  of 
Alexander  had  kept  united  and  in  sub- 
jection, no  longer  felt  this  superintend- 
ing controul,  it  broke  into  pieces,  and 
its  various  provinces  were  seized  by 
his  principal  officers,  and  parcelled  out 
among  them.  From  ambition,  emula- 
tion, and  personal  animosity,  they  soon 
turned  their  arms  against  one  another; 
and  as  several  of  the  leaders  were 
equally  eminent  for  political  abilities, 
»ad  for  military  skill,  the  contest  was 


maintained  long,  and  carried  on  with 
frequent  vicissitudes  of  fortune.-  - 
Amidst  the  various  convulsions  and 
revolutions  which  these  occasioned,  it 
was  found  that  the  measures  of  Alex- 
ander for  the  preservation  of  his  con- 
quests had  been  concerted  with  such 
sagacity,  that  upon  the  final  restora- 
tion of  tranquility,  the  Macedonian  do- 
minion continued  to  be.  established  in 
every  part  of  Asia,  and  not  one  pro- 
vince had  shaken  off  the  yoke.  Even 
India,  the  most  remote  of  Alexander's 
conquests,  quietly  submitted  to  Pytho, 
the  son  of  Agenor,  and  afterwards  to 
Seleucus,  who  successively  obtained 
dominion  over  that  part  of  Asia.  P©- 
rus  and  Taxiles,  notwithstanding  the 
death  of  their  benefactor,  neither  de- 
clined submission  to  the  authority  of 
the  Macedonians,  nor  made  any  at- 
tempt to  recover  independence. 


GEOGRAPHICAL. 


CALCUTTA. 

Extracted  from  Hamilton's  East  India 
Gazetteer. 

The  local  situation  of  Calcutta  is 
not  fortunate,  for  it  has  extensive 
muddy  lakes,  and  an  immense  fores^ 
close  to  it ;  and  was  a|  first  deemed 
hardly  less  unhealthy  than  Batavia, 
which  it  resembled  in  being  placed  in 
a  flat  and  marshy  country.  The  En* 
glish,  it  has  been  remarked,  have  beea 
more  inattentive  to  the  natural  advaii« 
tages  of  situation  tlian  the  French, 
who  have  always  in  India,  selected 
better  stations  for  founding  their  for« 
eign  settlements.  The  jungle  has  since 
been  cleared  away  to  a  certain  dis* 
tance,  the  streets  properly  drained^ 
and  the  ponds  filled  uoi^y  which  a 
vast  surface  of  stagnant  mter  has  been 
removed,  but  the  air  of  the  town  is 
still  much  affected  by  the  vicinity  of 
the  Sunderbunds. 

The  city  stands  about  100  miles  from 
the  sea,  on  the  eastside^lihe  western 


OSOOmAPHICAL. 


353 


braocbof  ^be  Gbdje^^  named  by  Eu- 
ropeans tbe  Hooghly  river,  but  by  ihe 
natives  the  Bhagirathi,  or  true  Can- 
ines, and  considered  by  them  peculiar- 
ly holy.  At  high  water  the  river  is 
here  a  full  mile  in  breadth ;  but,  dur- 
ing the  ebb,  the  opposite  side  to  Cal- 
cutta exposes  a  long  range  of  dry  sand 
banks.'  In  approaching  Calcutta  from 
the  sea,  a  stranger  is  much  struck  with 
its  ma^ificent  appearance;  the  ele- 
gant villas  on  each  side  of  the  river, 
tbe  company's  botanic  gardens,  the 
spires  of  the  churches,  temples,  and 
minarets,  and  the  strong  and  regular 
citadel  of  fort  William.  It  exhibited 
a  very  different  appearance  in  1717, 
of  which  the  following  is  a  correct  de- 
scription: 

The  present  town  was  then  a  village, 
appertaining  to  the  district  of  Nuddea, 
the  houses  of  which  were  scattered 
about  in  clusters,  of  10  or  12  ^ch, 
and  the  inhabitants  chiefly  husband- 


The  modem  town  and  suburbs  of 
Calcutta,  extends  along  the  east  side 
#f  the  river  above  six  miles,  but  the 
bieadth  varies  very  much  at  diflerent 
places.  The  esplanade  between  the 
lown  and  fort  William,  leaves  a  grand 
«peiitiig,  along  the  edge  of  which  is 
placed  the  new  govemment^house, 
aected  by  the  marquis  Wellesley ;  and 
eoatraoed  on  in  a  line  with  this  edi- 
iee,  is  a  range  of  magniOcent  houses, 
annoaented  with  spacious  verandahs. 
Chowringhee,  formerly  a  collection  of 
Bative  huts,  is  now  an  entire  village  of 
pidaces,  and  extends  for  a  considera- 
UedlstaDce  into  the  conntry.  The 
avdiitecture  of  the  houses  is  Grecian, 
^Hbieh  does  not  appear  the  best  adapt- 
ed for  the  country  or  climate,  as  the 
pihffs  of  the  verandahs  are  too  much 
dftvated,  to  keep  out  the  sun  during 

■aonuBg  and  evening,  althou^  at 
'  I  these  times  the  heat  is  excessive ; 

,  In  ibe  wet  season,  the  rain  beats 
Perhaps  a  more  confined  Hindoo 

»  dr  MMii^,  although  less  oma- 
~  '  :  1^  found  of  more  prac- 


W 


GREENLANDERS. 

The  Greenlanders  seem  to  beloi^ 
to  the  Moagul  race;  their  stature  is 
small,  and  they  seldom  ;arrive  at  a 
greater  age  than  fifty  years ;  the  wo- 
men are  nearly  as  tall  and  robust  as 
the  men,  apd  join  with  them  in  all 
their  labours  and  exercises.  Their  ha- 
bitations are  all  situated  near  the  coast, 
as  the  climate  is  there  less  seveie,  and 
it  is  more  convenient  for  fishing,  which 
is  their  principal  occupation ;  they  are 
generally  placed  in  tbe  recesses  of  the 
rocks,  and  are  supported  by  them; 
they  are  constructed  of  large  masses 
of  micaceous  schistus,  the  crevices  of 
whicli  are  filled  with  peat,  and  lined 
with  tuoss.  Each  is  about  fifteen  feet 
square,  and  is  occupied  by  about 
twenty  individuals,  who  lie  in  it  pro- 
miscuously. The  apertures  for  the 
purpose  of  admitting  light  are  closed 
with  the  intestines  of  the  seal  instead 
of  glass;  and  the  entrance  into  the 
huts  is  a  long  and  narrow  passage 
which  just  admits  a  man  to  creep  iiu 
They  are  heated  andiighted  by  a  lamp, 
which  is  suspended  in  the  middle  of 
the  chamber,  and  over  this  they  cook 
the  flesh  of  the  seal,  which  in  the  win- 
ter is  their  principal  food.'  The  houses 
are  almost  totally  without  any  descrip- 
tion of  furniture,  and  are  filthy  to  a 
-degree  which  can  scarcely  be  "Sonceiv- 
ed ;  all  access  of  fresh  air  is  certainly 
excluded,  and  the  heat  and  stench  is 
absolutely  insupportable,  except  to 
those  who  have  been  inured  to  them 
from  infancy.  Their  only  domestic 
animals  are  dogs,  which  serve  as  beasts 
of  burden,  and  are  employed  by  them 
in  place  of  horses. 

The  sea-coast  is  almost  covered  with 
rocks  and  shoals,  and  is  without  any 
appearance  of  vegetation;  the  paft 
which  is  not  composed  of  rock  being 
either  bog  or  marsh.  The  rocks  are 
however,  covered  with  very  beautiful 
lichens  and  mosses  of  the  most  bril- 
liant colours;  and  the  cascades  which 
fall  from  the  glaciers  between  the 
rocks,  occasionsdly  form  very  grand 

Digitized  by  VjOOOIC 


H  Beetles. — / 


2^4 


GCOG&APaiCAL. 


I^IOUNT  ARARAT. 
As  we  crossed  the  plain  from  Abba- 
sabad  to  Nakbjuwan,  we  had  a  most 
splendid  view  of  mount  Ararat.  No 
tnln^  can  be  more  beautiful  than  its 
shape,  more  awful  than  its  height. 
AH  the  suiTOunding  mountains  sink 
Into  insignificance  when  compared  to 
it  It  is  perfect  in  all  its  parts,  no  hard 
rufged  feature,  no  unnatural  promi- 
nences, every  thing  is  in  harmony,  and 
all  combine  to  render  it  one  of  the  sub- 
limest  objects  in  nature.  Spreading 
originally  from  an  immense  base,  the 
slope  towards  its  summit  is  easy  and 
gradual,  until  it  reaches  the  region  of 
snows,  when  it  becomes  more  abrupt. 
As  a  foil  to  this  stupendous  work,  a 
smaller  hill  rises  from  the  same  base 
near  the  original  mass,  similar  to  it  in 
shape  and  proportions,  and  in  any 
other  situation,  entitled  of  itself  to  rank 
amongst  the  high  mountains.  No 
one  since  the  flood  seems  to  have  been 
on  its  summit,  for  the  rapid  ascent  of 
its  snow^.  top  would  appear  to  render 
such  an  attempt  impossible.  Of  this 
we  may  be  certain,  that  no  man  in  mo- 
dern times  has  ascended  it,  for  when 
such  an  adventurous  and  persevering 
traveller  as  Tourn^fort  failed,  it  is  not 
likely  that  any  of  the  timid  supersti- 
tious inhabitants  of  these  countries 
should  have  succeeded.  We  were  in- 
formed that  the  people  have  reached 
the  top  of  the  small  Ararat  (or  as  it 
Is  called,  here,  Cuchuck  Agri  dagh ;) 
.  but  as  all  the  account  which  they 
brought  back  was  a  tale  (like  that  told 
of  Savalan),  about  a  frozen  man  and  a 
cold  fountain,  we  must  be  permitted  to 
disbelieve  every  report  on  the  subject, 
which  we  hare  hitherto  heard  from 
the  natives.  Morier. 


MADRAS. 
The  approach  to  Madras  from  the 
sea  is  very  striking.  The  low  flat  sao^ 
dy  shores  extendmg  to  the  north  and 
soifth,  and  the  small  hills  that  are  seen 
inland;  the  whole  exhibiting  an  i^ 
pnamny  Qf  hywiiiru^  whifh  iff  mirh 


improved  on  closer  inspection*  The 
beach  seems  alive  with  the  crowd* 
that  cover  it.  The  public  offices  and 
store  houses  erected  near  to  the  beach 
are  One  buildings,  with  colonades  to 
the  upper  stories,  supported  on  arched 
bases,  covered  with  the  beautiful  sbeH 
mortar  of  Madras^iard,  smooth,  and 
polished.  Within  a  (ev^  yards  of  the 
sea,  the  fortiflcatioiis  of  fort  George 
present  an  interesting  appearance,  and 
at  a  distance,  minarets  and  pagodas 
are  seen  mixed  with  trees  and  gar- 
dens. With  all  these  external  advan- 
tages it  would  be  difficult  to  find  a 
worse  place  for  a  capital  than  Madras, 
situated  as  it  is  on  the  margin  of  a 
coast  where  runs  a  rapid  current,  and 
against  which  a  tremendous  surf  breaks 
even  in  the  mildest  weather.  The  site 
of  Pondicherry  is  in  every  respect  au* 
perior,  and  b  placed  in  a  rich  and  Afr- 
tile  country,  besides  having  the  great 
advantage  of  being  to  windward,  tlie 
loss  of  which  was  severely  kh  by.  the 
British  settlers  during  the  hard  fought 
wars  of  the  18th  century.  Yet,  how- 
ever inconvenient,  the  expense  of  re- 
moval at  this  late  period  precludes  all 
idea  of  a  change. 

Madras  diflers  in  appearance  consi- 
derably from  Calcutta,  having  no  Eu- 
ropeun  tow^,  except  a  few  houses  in 
the  fort,  the  settlers  residing  entirely 
in  their  garden  houses;  repairing  to 
the  fort  in  the  morning  (or  the  trans- 
action of  business,  and  returning  in  the 
afternoon. 

The  garden  bouses  about  Madias 
are  generally  only  of  one  story,  bat  of 
a  pleasing  style,  of  airchitectare,  imv- 
ing  their  porticoes  and  verandahs  suj^ 
ported  by  chunamed  pillars.  The  walls 
are  of  the  same  materials, either  while 
or  coloured,  and  the  floors  are  covered 
with  rattan  mats. .  They  are  surround- 
ed by  a  field  planted  with  trees  and 
shrubs,  which  have  changed  the  bop- 
ren  sand  of  the  plain  into  a  rich  scese 
of  vegetation,  but  flowers  and  kwta 
are  still  raised  with  difljcnlty.  Pnrai^ 
the  hot  winds,  mats  made  of  thvcools 
of  the  cusa  grass,  which  has  a  j  ' 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


AGRTCULTUKAt. 


355 


tmdlf  are  pfaced  against  the  door's  a«d 
irhidotirs,  and  are  constantly  watered ; 
so  that  the  air  which  blows  through 
them,  spreads  an  agreeable  freshness 
and  fragrance  throughout  the  room. 
The  moment  however  the  cooling  in- 
ikien<^  of  these  mats  is  quttted,  the 
s^sation  is  like  entering  a  furnace, 
although  taking  the  average  of  the 
whole  year,  Madr^  experiences  less 
citreme  heat  than  Calcutta.  In  Ja- 
nuary the  lowest  is  about  70,  and  in 
Jaly,  the  highest  91  degrees. 

The  iociety  at  Madras  is  more  lim- 
ited than  at  Calcutta,  but  the  style  of 
living  much  the  same,  except  that  pro- 
visions of  an  sorts  are  much  less  abun- 
dant, and  greatly  more  expensive. — 
Dtiring  the  cold  season,  there  are 
oionthly  assemblies,  with  occasional 
balls  all  the  year. 

The  greatest  lounge  at  this  presi- 
dency is  during  visiting  hours,  from 
nine  o'clock  in  the  morning  until  ele- 
lea;  during  which  interval,  the  young 
men  go  about  from  house  to  house, 
learn  and  retail  the  news,  and  offer 
tbeir  services  to  execute  commissions 
in  the  city,  to  which  they  must  re- 
pair for  purposes  of  business.  When 
these  functionaries  are  gone,  a  troop 
of  idlers  appear,  and  remain  until 
tiffin,  at  two  o'clock,  when  the  real 
dinner  is  eaten.  The  party  then  sep- 
arate, and  many  retire  to  rest  or  to 
read,  until  five  o'clock;  about  which 
time  the  master  of  the  family  returns 
from  the  fort,  when  an  excursion  to 
the  Mount  Road,  and  dinner  after- 
wards, finishes  the  day,  unless  pro- 
longed by  a  ball  or  supper  party  at 

The  bladL  town  of  Madras  stands  to 
the  northward  of  the  fort,  from  which 
it  is  separated  by  a  spacious  esplanade. 
It  was  formerly  surrounded  by  fortifi^- 
cationsi,  sufficient  to  resist  the  incur- 
ious of  cavalry ;  but  having  long  be- 
come unneeetsary,  are  now  much  neg- 
lected. El  this  town  reside  the  native 
Armetnan  and  Portuguese  merchants, 
9aaA  abo  many  Civopeans  unconnect- 
^wlth  govenmefit.    Like  other  mi- 


tive  towns,  it  is  irregular  and  confused, 
being  a  mixture  of  bricE  and  bamboo 
houses,  and  makes  a  better  appearance 
at  a  distance,  than  when  closely  in- 
spected. In  1794,  the  total  popula- 
tion of  both  towns  was  estimated  at 
300,000  persons,  and  the  city  certain- 
ly has  not  since  diminished  in  any  re- 
spect.— East  India  Gaz. 

AGRICULTURAL. 

FRUIT  TREES. 

The  following  easy,  simple,  and  id- 
fallible  method  of  forcing  every  fruit- 
tree  to  blossom  and  bear  fruit,  has  been 
translated  from  the  German  of  the  Re- 
verend Gpo.  Charlbs  Lewis  Hbm- 
PEL,  (secretary  to  the  Pomological  So- 
ciety of  Altenburgh  in  Saxony),  by 
George  Henry  Noehden,  L.L.  D.  F. 
L.  S.&c.  "In  my  early  years  I  saw 
my  father,  who  was  fond  of  pomology, 
and  skilled  in  that  science,  cutting  a 
ring  on  several  branches  of  trees, 
which  already  were  in  blossom,  for  the 
purpose  of  producing,  by  that  means, 
larger  fruit  than  usual.  This  was  not 
his  own  invention,  but  as  far  as  I  re- 
collect, derived  frorta  a  French  jour- 
nal. Thirty  years  ago,  when  I  was  a 
boy,  I  practised  this  operation,  in  im- 
itation of  him  and  thereby  obtained 
larger  pears,  and  plumbs.  In  repeat- 
ing this  operation  of  rin^aug  the 
branches,  which  I  did  merely  for  the 
purpose  of  getting  larger  fruit,  I  ob- 
served that  the  branches  so  operated 
upon  always  bore  the  next  year.  By 
this  reiterated  appearance  I  was  led  to 
the  idea,  that  perhaps  this  mode  of 
ringing  the  bark  might  be  a  means  of 
compelling  every  unproductive  branch 
to  yield  fruit.  With  this  view  I  cut 
rings  upon  a  considerable  number  of 
branches,  which  as  yet  showed  no 
blossoms ;  and  found,  by  repeating  the 
experiment,  the  truth  of  my  supposi- 
tion  indisputably  confirmed  by  expe- 
rience. The  application  of  this  ex- 
periment, whereby  upon  every  bougb 
or  branch  fruit  may  artificially  be  pro-: 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


355 


A<3EICULTa&AL. 


ducedy  is  Tfry  siaipie  and  aisy.  Whfa 
a  sharp  knife  make  a  cut  in  the  bark 
of  the  branchy  which  you  mean  to  force 
to  bear,  and  not  far  from  the  place 
where  it  is  connected  with  the  stem, 
or)  if  it  be  a  small  branch  or  shoot, 
near  to  where  it  is  joined  to  the  large 
bough:  the  cut  is  to  go  round  the 
branch,  or  to  encircle  it,  and  to  pene- 
trate to  tlife  wood.  A  quarter  of  an 
inch  from  this  cut,  yon  make  a  second 
cut  like  the  first,  round  the  branch,  so 
Aat,  by  both  encircling  the  branch, 
you  have  marked  a  ring  upon  the 
branch,  a  quarter  of  an  inch  broad, 
between  the  two  cuts.  The  bark  be- 
tween these  two  cuts  you  take  clean 
away  with  a  knife,  down  to  the  wood, 
removing  even  the  fine  inner  bark 
which  immediately  lies  upon  the  wood, 
so  that  no  connection  whatever  re- 
mains between  the  two  parts  of  the 
bark,  but  the  bare  and  naked  wood 
appears  white  and  smooth.  But  this 
bark-ring,  which  is  to  compel  the  tree 
|o  bear,  must  be  made  at  the  right 
time,  that  u,  when  in  all  nature  the 
buds  art  strongly  swellii^  or  are 
breaking  out  into  blossoms.  In  the 
tfame  year  a  callus  b  formed  at  the 
edges  of  the  ring,  on  both  sides,  and 
the  connection  of  the  bark  that  had 
been  interrupted,  b  restored  again 
without  any  detriment  to  the  tree,  or 
the  branch  operated  upon,  m  which 
the  artificial  wound  soon  again  grows 
over.  By  this  simple  tluHigh  artifi- 
cial means  of  forcing  every  fruit-tree, 
with  certainty,  to  bear,  you  obtain  the 
the  following  important  advantages: 
1.  You  may  compel  ever>'  young  tree, 
of  which  you  do  not  know  the  sort,  to 
show  its  fruit,  and  decide  sooner  whe^ 
ther,  being  of  a  good  quality,  it  may 
remain  in  its  fifst  state,  or  requires  to 
be  grafted.  2.  You  may  thereby  with 
certain^,  get  fruit  of  every  gooid  sort 
of  which  you  wish  to  see  the  produce 
the  next  year.  3.  This  Qiethod  may 
probably  serve  to  increase  consider- 
ably the  quantity  of  fn^it  in  the  coun- 
try. The  branches  so  operated  upon 
are  hung  full  Of  fruit,  wfaik  the  others 


that  are  not  ringed,oftno  have  nothing 
or  very  little,  on  them.  This  efiect  is 
easy  to  be  explained  from  the  theory 
of  the  motions  of  the  sap.  For,  when 
the  sap  moves  slowly  in  a  tnee,  it  pro* 
ducen  fruit-buds,  which  is  the  case  in 
old  trees;  when  it  moves  vigorously, 
the  tree  forms  wood,  or  runs  infeo 
shoots,  as  happens  with  young  tree*. 
Though  I  arrived  at  this  discovery 
myself  in  consequence  of  trying  thie 
same  process  with  a  difiereat  view, 
namely,  to  increase  only  the  size  of  the 
fruit,  but  not  to  force  barren  branches, 
that  were  only  furnished  with  leaf- 
buds,  to  bear  this  latter  applicatioii« 
being  before  quite  unknown  to  roe ;  I 
will  on  that  account,  by  no  meaos  give 
myself  out  for  the  first  inventor  of  this 
operation :  but  I  was  ignorant  of  the 
effects  to  be  produced  by  this  method, 
and  only  discovered  them  by  repeated 
experiments  of  my  own,  which  I  made 
for  the  promotion  of  pomology.  Fre- 
quent experience  of  the  completest 
success  has  confirmed  the  truth  of  my 
observations.  Nor  do  I  think  that 
this  method  is  generally  known;  at 
least,  to  idl  those  to  whom  I  showed 
the  experiment,  the  efi*ect  prodnced 
appeared  new  apd  surprising.'' 


HORSE  CHESTNUTS. 

In  Turkey,  these  nuU,  the  use  of 
which  has  been  neglected  in  every 
other  country,  are  ground  and  mixed 
with  the  provender  for  horses,  parties- 
larly  for  such  as  are  broken  winded  or 
troubled  with  coughs.  After  ben^ 
boiled  a  little,  to  take  off  the  bitter- 
ness, bruised  and  mixed  with  a  small 
quantity  of  barley  meal,  they  are  a 
good  food  for  rearing  and  lattening 
poultry. 

OIL  CAKES, 

Given  to  milch  cows,  add  coaaider- 
able  to  the  quantity  and  riduieas  of 
their  yield,  without  afiectumf  its  fla- 
vour. That  distingnisbed  i^ncohor^ 
istji  Mr.  J.  C.  Curwen,  in  bis 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


ffQITICA&. 


W7 


lb  the  WasMngton  Society  for  the  ibh 
pnnrement  of  Agricolture,  states  that, 
m  the  course  of  bis  successful  experi- 
ments, be  finds  the  best  mode  of  ad- 
ministering the  oil  caike,  to  be  that  of 
grindiag  it,  mixing  it  in  layers,  and 
boUiag  It  with  the  ehafi;  by  which 
meaos,  half  the  quantity  answers  bet- 
ter than  as  much  more  given  hi  the 
cake.  Oil  €ak%  has  long  been  used 
with  success,  as  the  best  method  of 
teteoii^  oxen,  speedily,  for  the  koife. 

FLOWEHS. 
By  the  following  process,  the  lover 
of  flowers  will  be  able  to  prolong,  for 
a  day,  the  enjovment  of  their  short- 
lived beauty.  Most  flowers  begin  to 
droop  and  fade  ai^r  being  kept  during 
twenty-four  hours  in  water ;  a ,  few 
may  be  revived  by  substituting  fresh 
water  but  all  (the  most  fugacious,  such 
as  the  poppy,  and  perhaps  one  or  two 
others,  excepted)  may  be  completely 
restoredby  the  u^e  of  hot  water.  For 
this  purpose,  place  the  flowers  in 
scalding  water,  deep  enough,  to  cover 
about  one  third  of  the  ieqgth  of  the 
stem ;  by  the  time  the  water  has  be- 
come cold,  the  flowers  will  have  be- 
eotne  erect  and  fresh,  then  cut  ofi*  the 
coddled  end  of  the  stemS|  and  put  them 
wto  cold  water* 


ON  PRESERVING  BfEAT. 

The  following  proportions  of  sugar, 
sah,  and  sall-petre,  has  been  found  to 
preserve  meat  roost  effectually  in  hot 
as  well  as  cold  cUmates. 

Six  pounds  of  salt,  eight  ouOces  of 
brown  fugar,  and  six  ounces  of  salt- 
petre. IHssolve  these  1^  boilii^  them 
m  four  gallons  of  water.  Inthis|Hck- 
le  when  perfectly  coldf  keep  any  sort 
of  flesh  meat  sunk,  and  stopped  close. 

Fluid  is  particukurly  excellent  for 
pork  meaty  and  both  keep  beef  from 
becoming  over  salt,  or  hard  and  dry 
whendrened. 

In  the  Crimea,  and  throughout  the 
#omheni  provinces  ^f  Russia,  beef  is 


potted,  cured  a^d  preserved  in  a  nmi- 
lar  mani^r. 

South  American  beef  could,  yet 
more  conveniently,  be  melted  into 
portable  soup,  and  thus  exported. — 
Portable  soup  is  commonly  sold  at  se- 
veral shops  in  Lonfk>n,  for  distant  voy- 
ages, and  is  found  to  k^  good  for 
yean,  hi  any  chmate.  The  recipe 
might  be  procured,  and  would  be  found 
extremely  useful  both  in  our  navy,  and 
m  our  mercantile  marine. 

A  Spanish  gentleman,  Don  Yenexu^ 
la,  has  lately  discovered  that  fresh  meat 
may  be  preserved  fresh  for  several 
vears  by  keeping  it  immersed  in  mo* 
lasses. 


POETICAL. 


Fom  TBS  MAfloifio  Rboistkr. 

WISDOM  AND  SCIENCE, 
How  happy  is  the  man  whose  aetire  youth 
Has  been  devoted  to  tl|e  high  panaits 
Of  wbdom,  and  of  science !  For  him  the 

bloom 
Of  Spring,  and  Antamn*s  meHow  tints  are 

spread } 
The  hidden  secrets  of  the  aniverae 
Lie  wide  unfolded ;  while  his  active  soul 
Boams  unoonfin'd  through  natiire*s  varied 

forms, 
And  feels  eiaUed,  as  he  Wond*ring  views 
The  mighty  worlcs  of  that  Almigh^  Power, 
Who  spreads  the  fantelleetoal  least,  and 

holfls  # 

The  mirror  of  himself,  aloft  displayed, 
For  those  whom  science  and  enlightened 

taste 
^aye  raised  above  the  range  of  vulgar 

things. 
And  taught  to  soar,  like  angels,  through  the 

s^erasy 
Tin  resting  at  the  yery  footstool  of  his 

throne, 
The  soul  asshnilates  itself  to  him. 
The  source,  the  fulness,  and  the  perfect 
Of  wisdom,  goodness,  and  effulgent  truths 
And  there  r^>oses  in  eternal  Miss. 

SrSSlO   TTBAIITO;. 


Fob  tub  Masovic  Rcoistsb. 

TO  ISABELLA. 

Whan  the  day  that  b  past  shall  retarn  at 

my  calling,  ^  ^  .. 

TIm  waves  at  oommaad  sMl  retire  from 
the  shore; 


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55& 


fOBTXCAfM 


And  (he  bright  dnwt  of  tnm  MA  forever 

cease  fallini^ 
Then  dear  Isabella,  HI  love  thee  no  more. 

When  thy  loul  shall  decay  aa  the  hkisaoot 

that  fadeth, 
!rhe  force  of  attraction  shall  lose  every 

power, 
And  despair  the  abode  of  the  angel  inva- 

deth, 
Xbeii  dear  Isabella,  Til  love  thee  no  mere. 

Until  then  this  fond  heart  its  affection  shall 

cherish 
Unblemish'd,  and  free  as  the  raaid  I  adore, 
UatU  then,  and  O  then  when  my  doom  is 

to  perbh, 
in  breathe  out  a  sigh,  but  can  love  thee  no 

more. 

6REOORIU8   9OA0I. 


For  trs  Masokic  Kcoister. 
AFFECTION. 

Affection,  thoa  source  of  celestial  plea- 
sures. 

Pure  virtuous  emotion  that  flows  from  the 
heart ; 

An  joys  spring  from  thee,  thoa  richest  of 
treasures, 

That  the  bounty  of  Heaven  to  man  doth 
/      impart. 

Tis  thou  that  refin'st  and  exaltest  the  soul, 
And  giv'st  to  mankind  the  perfection  of 

bliss; 
While. the  tend'rest  emotions  around  bb 

heart  roll, 
Inspir'd  by  a^anoe,  and  breath'd  soft  in  a 

kiss. 

Be  thoa  my  companion  through  life's 
drenrj^way, 

My  comfort,  my  guide,  my  wealth  and  de- 
light; 

For  ever  renewed  like  the  coming  of  day, 

Thou  shalt  chase  all  my  griefs  like  the 
mists  of  the  night. 

So  as  time  shall  revolve,  If  attended  by 

thee. 
Its  flight  shall  be  weltom'd  by  bliss  ever 

new; 
My  heart  from  th'  iDtrorions  of  care  ^all 

be  free,    • 
And  111  dwell  *mid  the  prospects  thoa  giv'st 

to  my  view. 

xrxjiio  vrBAirros. 


TO  PLEASURE. 

Ob,  Pleasure,  I  have  /ondlv  woo'd, 
Bat  never  won  thy  fleetmg  favoor ; 

My  eeriy  soit  was  wfld  and  rude. 
And,  startled^  thoa  didst  fly  forever. 


Awhile,  I  dedplv  soitow'd  o'er 
The  wreck  of  all  that  perish'd  thea; 

But  wilder,  sweeter,  thau  before, 
Thy  smile,  (hough  distant,  beam*d  again. 

And,  my  sad  heart,  tho'  deenly  chUrd, 
Still  panting,  sou^t  thy  lov'd  eml^race, 

Trac'd  every  path,  thy  Votaries  ftird, 
To  meet  ^ee  in  thy  Res^g-Place. 

I  saw  thee,  mantling  warm  in  wine. 
And  deeply  bath'd  my  fever'd  lip  ; 

I  saw  thee  pause  at  beauty's  shrine. 
And  Bttfoly  hop'd  thy  sweets  to  sfp. 

But  wine  and  beauty  both  conspiKd 
To  fill  mv  soul  with  dark  regret ; 

For  scarcely  now,  their  sweets  eipir'd, 
And  pleasure,  fleeting,  'scap'd  me  yet.. 

And  now — wilb  scarce  a  feeling  warm. 
When  all  should  bloom  in  hearts  an- 
wasted; 

I  turn  me,  from  thy  lovely  form, 
Thy  joys  unknown,  thy  sweets  unlasted. 

Then  fare  thee  well,  deceitful  riiade  ! 
Tho*  bright  the  charms  that  still  adoni 
thee; 
Too  fondly  press'd,  they  withering  fade* 
And  all  who  follow,  soon  must  scoi^ 
thee. 


SONNET  TO  MAF. 

Sweet  child  of  Spring,  the  magic  of  whose 

voice 
Awakes    each  slumberiog   tenant  of  tha 

plain. 
And   makes  the  vallies  and  the  hills  re» 

joice. 
And  bids  each  faded  blossom  Uoom  i 


Yet  softly  lead  thy  ro^  train  alonr, 

And  sprm  enchantment  thro'  each  flow'ry 

crove; 
Yet  bid  the  warblers  chant  their  vennal 

song. 
And  tune  theur  lays  to  harmony  and  love. 

Sweet  soother  of  my  miad,  tho'  Bot  e'ea 

Spring 
Can  e'er  erase  the  sorrows  of  my  breast ; 
Tet  cherish'd  with  thy  scenes,  Hope  waves 

her  wing, 
And  points  to  vales  ti  evariastiog  resty 
Where  eveiy  wintry  care  shall  fade  away. 
And  all  the  landscape  glow  with  one  eter- 
nal May.  sFsmo. 


ON  A  SHEET  OF  BLANK  PAPER. 

Fair  spotless  leaf  (thou  emblem  pore 

Of  iMiocenoe)  beware  ; 
Nor  think  thy  beanW  lives  secu^Q; 

rrb  dang*roits  to  te  hh.     . 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


^BTJ^AlM- 


^ 


Tewitoteeene,  ^od  impioiis  jest^ 
Theu  lieflt  too  much  expos'd  : 

<tive  trath  possesaion  of  thy  breast, 
Or  he  for  ever  clos'd, 

3offie  waatoa  pen  may  scrawl  thee  o*er, 

Aad  blot  thy  virgin  face ; 
Aad  whiteness,  deem'd  thy  praise  before, 

May  turn  to  thy  disgrace. 

0  nre  m^  then  thy  feultless  (wge, 

Ere  yet  foul  ttain  be  drank, 
Qm  Virtae'0  aide  with  me  ennge, 

Nor  leave  for  Vice  a  Uank. 

By  thee  flfaall  idle  vacant  hearts 

This  useful  moral  learn, 
Tkai  unemplov'd,  the  brightest  parts 

To  vice  and  folly  turn. 

Bf  thee  shall  innocence  be  taogbt. 
What  dangers  wait  on  yonth, 


ffoleaa  with  early  precepts  fraught; 
And  prepoaseas'd  w' ' 


i  with  truth. 


By  thee  shall  beauty  learn  to  yield 
To  real  worth  her  charms ; 

For  virtue  (though  an  ample  shield) 
Bat  incompletely  arms. 


UmUM  HORDM  ? 

Qnnyn,  who  ml'd  the  Persian  throne 

With  high  tyrannic  sway, 
AB  night  in  fancied  chains  would  groan, 

B*t  roee  a  king  by  day. 

Caled,  hie  slave,  in  bondage  held. 
From  friends. and  country  torn, 

1b  dreams  the  regal  staff  would  wield» 
And  wake  a  slave  at  mom. 

Mom  to  tiie  king  restored  the  crown, 

And  made  poor  Caled  cry ; 
Bttoming  night  threw  Osmyn  down^ 

Bat  rai^d  Uie  slave  on  high. 

This  haird  with  joy  the  rising  sun. 
That  saw  his  beams,  and  griev'd, 

Jfiditshed  her  blessings  o'er  the  one, 
The  other  day  reliev'd. 

Te  casuists  !  ('tis  a  doubtful  thing) 

An  answer  quick  I  crave, 
Pray  tell  me,  Was  the  slave  a  king  ^ 

Or,  Was  the  king  a  slave  ? 


ODC  TO  KARNBRiE,  A  DRUID  MOUN- 
TAIN IN  CORNWALL. 

BT  WETWm.  niTDAR,   SS^. 

Bear  yonder  solitary  tow'r, 

*Loiie  gk>ominff  'midst  the  moony  light, 
f  roMi  at  aihlni^t*s  spectred  hour, 
~    "   >thewiUfflsjistiA height: 


Low  to  the  rooontein  tot  me  rer'reat  bow» 
Where  Wisdom,  Virtue,  tau^  their  founts 
to  flow. 

Pale  on  a  rock's  aspiring  steep, 

Behold  a  Draid  sits  fonom, 
I  see  the  white-rob'd  phantom  weepi 

I  hear  his  harp  of  sorrow  moum : 
The  vanish  *d  grove  provokes  his  deepest 

sigh. 
And  altars  open'd  to  the  giudng  ejre. 

O  lover  of  the  twHigbt  gloom, 

That  calls  thee  irom  the  cave  of  death. 
Around  the  wrecks  of  time  to  roam, 

Or  glide  the  grove,  or  naked  heath  : 
Sweet  is  t)iy  mmstralsv  to  him  whose  lay% 
First  sung  the  hallow'd  bill  of  ancient  (hys. 

Permit  me,  Druid,  here  to  stray, 
And  ponder  'mid  thy  drear  retreat  9 

To  wail  the  solitary  way, 
Where  wisdom  held  her  hallow'd  seat. 

Here  let  me  roam,  in  spite  of  folly'?  smil^ 

A  pensive  pilgrim  o'er  each  pitied  pile. 

Poor  ghost !  no  more  the  Draid  race 
SbaU  here  their  sacred  fires  relume: 

No  more  their  show'rs  of  incense  blaze. 
No  more  their  tapers  ^ild  the  gloom. 

Lo!  snakes  obscene  along  the   tempXetf 
creep, 

And  foxes  on  the  broken  altars  sleep. 

No  more  beneath  the  golden  hook, 

The  treasures  of  the  grove  shall  fall  j 
Time  \riomphs  o'er  each  blasted  oak, 
Whose  power  at  length  shall  crash  tht 
ball. 
LeTI  by  the  wrinkl'd  pow'r  with  i^addon'd 

mein, 
Gigantic  ruin  treads  the  weephig  scene. 

No  more  the  bards  in  strains  sublime. 
The  actions  of  the  brave  proclaim, 

Thus  rescuing  fronj  the  rage  of  time. 
Each  glnrions  deed  approv'd  by  fame. 

Deep  in  the  dust  each  lyre  is  laid  uii^tra^ 

Whue  mute  for  ever  stops  each   tuneful 
tongue. 

Here  wisdom's,  virtue's,  awful  voice, 

Inspired  the  youth  of  Cornwall's  plains : 
With  sueh  iio  more  these  hills  rejoice, 
.    But  sullen,  death-like,  silence  reigns, 
While  melanoholv  in  yon  mould'ring  tow'r, 
Sits  list'ning  to  old  ocean's  distant  roar. 


SONNET  TO  TIME. 

Caprioioos  foe  to  human  joy, 
Stdl  varying  with  the  flcetmg  day ; 

With  thee  the  purest  raptures  cloy. 
The  fl|iert4)ro8pects  fade  away. 

Nor  worth,  nor  pdw'r,  thy  wings  caa  bisd, 
AU  eaitl^  pte<>o>^  ^  ^>^  ^l***  ^ 


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360  TOETtCAhf  ice 


f  Inconstant  as  tke  wav'ring  wind, 
That  plays  upon  the  smnmer's  sea. 

I  court  thee  not,  ungentle  guest, 

For  I  have  e'er  bwn  doom'd  to  find 
Life's  eayest  hours  but  idly  drest 

With  sweets  that  pall  the  sick'ning  mind  -. 
When  smiling  Hope  with  placid  mien 

Around  my  couch  did  fondly  play ; 
Too  oft  the  aery  form  I've  seen 

On  downy  pinions  glide  away. 

But  when  perplex'd  with  pain  or  care, 
My  couch  with  thorns  was  scattered  round) 
When  the  pale  priestess  of  despair, 

My  mind  In  fatal  spells  had  bonnd  *, 
When  the  dull  hours  no  joy  could  bring, 

No  bliss  my  weary  fancy  prove ; 
I  mark'd  thy  leaden  pond'rous  wing, 

With  tardy  pace  unkindly  move. 

If  such  thy  zifts,  O  Time !  for  thee 

My  sated  heart  shall  ne'er  repine ; 
I  vow  content  to  Fate's  decree. 

And  with  thy  thorn  thy  roses  twine ; 
Yet,  le'er  thy  fickle  reign  shall  end, 

The  balmy  sweets  of  Friendship's  hour 
1*11  with  mv  cup.  of  sorrow  blend. 

And  smile,  regardless  of  thy  power. 


LITERARY. 
Owhig  to  local  concerns,  we  had  not  the 
pleasure  of  attending  the  late  examination 
of  the  pupib  of  Bowery  Academy,  but  are 
much  gratified  to  learn,  from  highly  re- 
spectable sources,  that  the  result  was  so 
konourable  to  the  preceptors,  and  to  the  pu- 
fjlb.  A  personal  acquaintance  with  Messrs. 
Coats  ^  Hoxn,  has  given  us  an  exalted 
•pinion  of  their  merits;  and  it  Is  with 
pleasure  we  observe  the  following  notices 
in  the  <<  Evening  Post,"  and  the  «  Colom- 
bian." 

From  the  Evening  Post. 
Mr.  Editor, — ^The  subject  of  education  b 
one  of  so  much  importance,  not  only  to  in- 
dividuals but  to  community  at  largcy  that  I 
pake  bold  to  ask  a  place  for  a-  few  words 
oenceming  it,  even  at  eketion  titne.  I  have 
had  the  pleasure  of  witnessing  an  exami- 
nation or  the  pupils  of  Bowkst  AoAi>Einr, 
under  the  care  of  Messrs.  Coats  k.  Hoxie, 
who  are  also  principals  of  the  Philom  Acad- 
eipy  hi  WUiiam-street.  I  cannot  forbear 
expressing  my  decided  approbation  of  the 
method  of  Instruction  pursued  by  these 

rmtlemen,  and  of  the  rapid  improvements 
have  witnessed  in  their  tnstitotion,  which 
h  at  present  the  most  extensive  English 
Mminary  in  the  city.  The  examination, 
which  ofjeupied  the  tHeemoons  aad  even- 


ings of  three  days,  exhibited  in 
in  the  higher  branches  of  En|;)ish  ednca- 
tidn  before  unknown  in  the  part  of  the 
town  where  it  was  held ;  thoogli  the  Bow- 
ery Academy  has  been  little  more  than  a 
nar  in  growing  to  its  present  extent ;  and 
im  credibly  informed  that  an  addition  of 
Mtvtnlten  pupils  was  made  on  the  day  fol- 
lowing the  examinatioa.        A  Tkacbsiu 

From  the  Co/wnM^m. 

Air.  Editor, — ^I  have  attended  an  exami- 
nation of  the  BowERT  AcADxnr,  conduct- 
ed by  Messrs.  Coats  and  Hoxie,  prinripab 
also  of  the  Philom  Academy,  in  Williaffl- 
street ;  and  though  I  have  been  in  the  habit 
of  attending  school  examinations  in  the  city 
for  the  two  last  years,  I  do  not  recollect  to 
have  seen  improvements  in  most  of  Che  £■- 
glish  branches,  superior  to  those  I  have 
witnessed  there.  I  think  it  should  be  knows 
to  the  public,  that  the  institution  of  Biessrs. 
Coats  II  Hoxie,  b  not  only  In  number  the 
most  considerable  one  in  the  city,  but  b  at 
least  otu  of  the  bcMt,  both  in  respect  to  dis- 
cipline and  improvement. 

The  examination  of  the  Bowery  Acade- 
my  was  followed  by  an  immediate  increase 
of  seventeen  scholars. 

A  FBIKVO  OF  LITXBATITRK. 


DIED, 

On  the  30tb  ult  of  a  consMnption,  W.  P. 
M.  brother  William  N.  Bools,  teacher,  of 
thb  city,  aged  48  years. 

On  the  89th  ult.  suddenly,  brother  Loot» 
SoDCHAKD,  formerly  of  Mechanic  Lodge, 
and  preceptor  of  the  French  AcadeBMr, 
No.  198  Broadway. 


TO  COERISPOHDEirrS. 

Notwithstanding  the  communication  of 
our  brother  Hi&ah  Abiff,  b  written  in  a 
style  of  elegance,  and  cont^ns  many  very 
excellent  sentiments,  we  are  rehictaiitly 
compelled  to  decline  giving  it  a  place  la 
the  Masonic  Register,  owing  to  several  ex- 
pressions of  too  great  sevemy,  and  others 
tending  to  recrimination.  The  meek  and 
mil<|  spirit  of  Masopry  allows  us  to  act 
only  on  the  defensive,  and  directs  us  to  mso 
all  possible  charity,  towards  even  our  ene- 
mies. 

The  discourse  of  the  Rev.  DAvre  Yonrc, 
with  which  we  have  been  Csvouied  by  bro- 
thers Spang^er  and  Butler,  of  Amity  Lodge, 
Zanesville,  may  be  expected  In  our  next 

Other  favours,  ^  too  numerous  to  inen^ 
tion,"  will  be  attended  to  as  soon  as  posd- 
bl9« 

HOYT  &  BOLMORE,  PRINTERS, 
70  Bowery,  New-To^ 


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THE 


AMERICAN  MASONIC  REGISTER, 


AND 


Ladies*  and  Gentlemen's  Magazine. 


BY  LUTHER  PRATT. 


IVisdom  hath  builded  her  bouse,  8h«  hath  heWn  oat  her  seven  pillars. 
In  the  lips  of  him  that  hath  understanding  wisdom  is  found :  but  a  rod  it  for  the  back 
of  bim  that  is  void  of  understanding.  SoLOMoit. 


[No.  X.] 


FOR.JUNE,  A.  D.  1821.  A.  L.  5821. 


[Vol.  I.] 


MASONIC. 


Fob  tkk  BIasohio  Rboistsa. 

BlOTHBB  PeATT^ 

The  following  u  the  substanoe  of  a 
discourse  detiTered  before  Amity  lod^ 
No.  5y  and  a  respectable  audience,  m 
Zanesville,  Ohio.  Dec.  27,  1819,  by 
the  Rev.  David  loong;  which,  being 
Mivered  by  one  who  is  not  a  Ma- 
son, is  entitled  to  doable  weigfit,  with 
those  who  are  prejudiced  against  Ma- 
sonry. We,  members  of  said  Amity 
lodge,  have  furnished  you  with  a  copy 
of  said  sermon,  as  it  has  never  appear- 
ed in  print,  hoping  you  will  give  it  a 
place  in  your  Masonic  Register. 

David  Spanouer, 
John  BtrrxJEi. 

DISCOURSE. 

**  And  the  Lord  spal^e  unto  Mos^,  say- 
isgi  iee>  I  have  caltcd  by  name  Besaleel 
the  son  of  Uri,  the  son  of  Hur,  of  the  tribe 
ofJudah:  and  I  have  filled  him  with  the 
spirit  of  God,  In  wisdom,  and  in  ander- 
staading,  mid  in  knowledge,  and  in  all 
nanaer  of  workmanship,  to  devise  cmininff 
woricft,  to  work  in  goia,  and  in  silver,  and 
in  brass,  and  in  cutting  of  stones  to  set  themy 
sod  in  carving  of  tunber,  to  woric  in  all 
AMSDcr  of  woffmansbh)." 

^  Ac0dui  vai,  1—6. 


Xx 


Ignorance  and  error  are  the  bane  of 
society.  The  want  of  ideas,  or  the 
mi$anplic4Uum  pf  them,  has  produced 
much  evil  and  misery  in  the  world. 
These  form  the  foundation  on  which  is 
built  bigotry,  prejudice,  and  uncharit- 
able censoriousness ;  all  of  which  di- 
rect their  shafts  against  deep  reeearcky 
and  uncommon  geniue  or  great  good- 
ness. Who  has  forgotten  the  thral* 
dom  of  poor  Galileo,  for  simply  main- 
taining that  the  earth  turned  upon  its 
own  axis,  or  the  more  astonishing 
madness  of  the  Jews  against  the  author 
of  our  holy  religion.  Not  to  multiply 
examples,  it  seems  plainly  inferable 
from  the  subject  before  us,  that  the 
cotemporaries  of  Moses  were  in  this 
respect  like  other  men,  otherwise  we 
can  see  no  necessity  for  ^the  Lord 
speaking  unto  Moses,''  Scc.j  had  it  not 
been  to  reipove  their  ignorance  of  the 
great  source  of  genius,  and  turn  away 
their  natural  envy  from  Bezaleel,  the 
chosen  constructor  of  the  ark  of  the 
tabernacle. 

In  the  prosecution  of  this  subject, 
we  shall,  in  the  first  place,  give  you  a 
loose  exposition  of  that  part  ii  the 
text  which  seems  obscure. 

Verse  2.  I  have  caUed  by  nawu 
BexaieeL    The  naeamMrof .which is, 

_  Digitized  by  VjCTOyiC 


562 


MASONIC. 


I  have  placed  him  under  my  special 
protecdoo^  and  made  hioi  superintend- 
ent of  the  whole  work. 

Verse  3.  I  havefUed  him  with  the 
tpirit  of  Godf  in  wisdtm:  wisdom 
here  denotes  to  be  wi$€^  akilfvly  or 
prudent.  It  signifies  the  compass  of 
mind,  and  strength  of  capacity  neees- 
sary  to  form  a  wbe  man ;  hence  we 
with  propriety  say,  wisdom,  the  power 
of  judging  what  is  wise,  or  best  to  be 
done. 

"  Understanding.^  The  capacity  to 
comprehend  the  different  parts  of  the 
whole;  to  separate^  distinguthy  di^- 
cent,  connecty  and  arrange,  until  ike 
frame  be  complete. 

^^  Knowledge.^^  This  denotes  a  par- 
ticular acquaintance  with,  or,  of  a  per- 
son or  thinff :  practical  or  experimen- 
tal knowledge. 

Verse  4.  Cunning  works.  Works  of 
invention^  or  genius  in  the  gold  and 
silvers  mith  line^ 

Verse  5.  In  cutting  of  stones^  &c. 
Every  thing  that  concerns  the  lapida- 
ries,  jewellers' ^  and  carvert^  arts. 

This  is  all  we  think  necessary  by 
way  of  explication.  The  doctrine  we 
deduce  from  this  subject  is.  that  Qod 
is  the  author  of  arts  and  sciences; 
for  if  God  inspire  men  with  mechani- 
cal skHt  and  scientific  genius,  then  it 
will  follow  of  course,  that  he  is  the 
author  of  those  arts  and  sciences  pro- 
duced by  that  inspiration.  At  this 
conclusion  you  seem  surprised,  but 
remember,  Noah's  ark,  and  the  ark  of 
the  tabernacle,  together  with  Solo- 
mon's temple,  were  all  erected  by  the 
special  appointment  of  God.  Infinite 
wisdom  discovers  their  usefulness  to 
mankind,  and  why  not  infinite  good- 
ness inspire  men  to  construct  them. 
Thus  we  all  may  see  with  Mqses, 
men  that  are  wise-varied^  whom  God 
has  filled  with  wisdom  for  these  very 
purposes,  that  he  might  help  man  by 
man,  and  that,  as  time  rolls  on,  he 
might  grant  his  intelligent  creatures 
such  proofs  of  his  wisdom  and  provi- 
dence as  should  cause  them  to  render 
him  that  glory  which  is  due  to  his 
great  name. 


How  directly  does  the  prophet  Isa- 
iah refer  to  this  sort  of  teaching  as 
coming  firom  God,  even  in  the  most 
common  and  less  difficult  arts  of  life. 
^<  Doth  the  ploufifhman  plough  all  day 
to  sew  ?  Doth  he  open  and  break  the 
clods  of  the  ground  ?  when  be  hadi 
made  plahi  the  face  thereof,  doth  he 
not  cast  abroad  the  fitches  and  scatter 
the  cummin,  and  cast  the  principal 
wheat,  and  the  appointed  barley,  and 
die  rye  in  their  place,  for  his  God 
doth  INSTRUCT  him — Bread  corn  is 
bruised — This  also  cometh  from  the 
Lord  of  hosts,  who  is  wonderful  io 
council,  and  excellent  in  working." 
Isaiah  xxviii,  24 — 29«  Wegofwlber 
still,  and  not  ouly  affirm  that  God  in- 
spires men  otgeniuSy  qualifiying  them 
to  inventy  or  improve  those  arts  and 
sciences  which  are  necessaiy,  but  that 
he  inspires  them  for  the  execution  of 
those  of  an  ornamental  kind.  For 
the  Lord  said  unto  IVfoses,  ^<thou  shalt 
make  holy  garments  for  Aaron,  thy 
brother,  for  glory  (honour)  and  for 
heautff.''^  See  Exodus,  chapter  xxviii, 
verse  2,  where  it  is  added,  «  Speak  to 
all  the  wisehearted  whom  IhavefMed 
with  the  spirit  of  wisdom,  that  they 
may  make  Aaron's  garments."  For, 
notwithstanding  mankind  never  appear 
ui  a  more  contempdble  point  of  view, 
than  when  ornament  and  decoratioii 
form  their  chief  aim,  yet,  let  any  man 
contrast  an  old  Jewish  sandal  with  a 
modem  pair  of  boots,  or  compare  the 
dress  of  a  real  savage  with  a  decent 
coat,  and  say  if  the  mere  badges  of  re- 
finement are  not  grounds  for  gratitade 
to  the  Most  High. 

It  is  not  intended,  in  the  text  last 
cited,  that  these  men  were  fiUed  with 
the  apirit  of  wisdom  for  this  pmpose 
only;  for  the  direction  to  Moses  was 
to  select  those  whom  he  found  to  be 
eaipert  artists,  and  those  who  were 
such,  Gad  shows  by  these  words,  bad 
derived  their  knowledge  from  hitnadf. 
The  labour  of  men  and  beasts  has  been 
exceedingly  lessened  by  improvements 
on  machinery,  and  whose  hardihood 
prepares  him  .o  »a^^^^^  urimhm 


MJtfOHIC. 


36$ 


whkh  flooglii  out  these  impcovements^ 
did  not  coDoe  from  God  ?  No  possible 
reading  or  study  can  form  such  a  geni- 
MS  :  we  say  it  was  born  with  the  man } 
Mo9es  leaches  us  to  consider  it  divine. 

Who  taught  Newton  to  ascertain 
the  laws  by  which ,  God  governs  the 
univeise?  through  which  discovery  a 
new  source  of  profit  and  pleasure  haa 
been  opened  to^mankind  in  ey^y  part 
c»f  the  civilized  world.  This  princi- 
ple, that  Qod  19  ihe  author  of  all  arU 
mod  sdemcesy  is  too  little  regarded; 
lor  we  have  the  authority  of  St.  James, 
who  dif^mSf  ^^that  every  good  and 
perfect  gift  Cometh  down  from  the 
FATHSE  of  LIGHTS,  with  whom.there  is 
oeitlier  variableness  nor  shadow  of 
turning.  Men  of  great  genius  and 
expanded  minds,  have,  from  the  works 
of  creation,  drawn  a  profusion  of  proofs 
^ — overwhelming  proofs,  both  of  the 
MHg  and  attributes  of  God.  We  can 
but  just  refer  you  to  the  philosophical 
vorkf  of  Derham,  Bonnet,  and  the 
.arcb-bishop  of  Cambray.  Who  gave 
these  men  this  wisdom  ?  Grod,  from 
whom  alone  mind,  and  all  its  attri- 
butes proceed.  The  doctrine  we  have 
jraned  from  the  text  will  further  ap- 
pear to  be  toa  litde  regarded,  if  we 
deliberately  set  down  and  survey 
Bnfibo,  while  he  examines  and  traces 
all  the  curious  laws  and  relations  of 
.tlie  ammal  kingdom  i  Toumefort,  the 
v^etahle,  and  a  host  of  philosophical 
chemists,  from  Thec^rastus,  down  to 
Rack,  the  mineralist.  The  latent 
properties  of  vegetables  and  minerals 
which  they  have  dev^oped;  the  pov- 
erfnl  machines  constructed  by  their 
discoveries,  by  which  the  human  sUxee 
is  restored  to  his  own  place,  and  our 
beasts  of  burden  exchanged  for  steam, 
the  lever  and  dashing  wheels.  NoW, 
we  cannot  help  exclaiming,  the  hand 
ofGodisinallthis! 

it  was  the  Most  High  who  girded 
these  men,  though  many  of  them 
know  him  not,  they  were  inspired  by 
him,  and  to  them  he  opened  the  paths 
to  the  depths  of  science,  and  made 
them  his  minbters  of  good  to  mankind. 


And  if  it  should  be  said,  ^' some  of 
these  men  stained  their  lives  with 
vice,"  what  then  ?  are  we  not  profiting 
day  by  day  through  the  medium  of 
their  researches?  If  thev  did  not  pro6t 
by  the  genius  with  which  they  were  in- 
spired, it  only  proves  that  invention  and 
grace  are  two  things,  but  leaves  us  iu 
pos&ession  of  our  proposition^  that  God 
is  the  author  of  arts  and  sciences, 
though  men  may  abuse  their  end,  or 
disregard  their  author. 

The  same  may  be  said  of  the  dis- 
cemment  and  penetration  of  the  me- 
dalist and  autiquary,  these  come  from 
God  alone;  they  are  his  agents,  by 
whom  the  dark  ages  of  the  world  have 
been  brought  to  light.  A  few  manu- 
scripts, busts,  stones,  coins,  and  culin- 
ary utensils,  by  them  have  been  made 
to  tell,  like  written  documents,  the  his- 
tory of  man  and  of  providence.  The 
providence  that  preserved,  and  the 
genius  that  deciphers  these  materials, 
call  aloud  for  gratitude  to  the  Author 
of  every  good  and  perfect  gift.  This 
last  might  be  greatly  extended,  and  of 
theni  afi  we  might  say,  as  Moses  did 
of  Beasaleel,  iq  the  text :  ^'  God  has 
filed  them  with  the  spirit  of  God,  in 
wisdom,  and  in  understanding,  and  in 
Jknowledge,  and  in  all  manner  of  work- 
manship. The  works  of  the  Lord  are 
gi^eat,  sought  out  of  all.  them  that  have 
pleasure  therein."  On  the  principle 
we  wish  to  establish,  you  will  be  fur- 
nished with  a  clue  by  which  to  re- 
move a  difiicuUy  in  theology  respect- 
ing inspiratioq  and  inspired  men.  You 
cannot  deny  that  God  inspired  Isaiah 
and  Jeremiah,  (for  instance)  though 
there  is  a  surprising  difference  in  the 
manner  of  those  authors.  Now.  with 
us,  admit  that  inspiration  is  two-fold, 
that  the  sacred  writer  was  inspired 
with  the  subject  vuUter  of  his  commu- 
nication, and  that  his  genius  was  horn 
with  him,  by  which  the  manner  will 
be  determined.  On  this  principle  we 
admit  these  prophets,  both  to  have 
pubUshed  eternal  truths,  and  also  ac- 
count for  the  lofty  boldness  of  Isaiah, 
and  see  the  source  of  the  melancholy 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


364 


MAsemc. 


softness  ot  iTereiiiiah.  The  truth  for 
which  we  contend  is  not  novel,  though 
so  generally  disregarded  by  mankind. 
For  darkly  ignorant  as  the  heathens 
were,  yet  they  admitted  that  talents^ 
and  the  seeds  of  arts  and  sciences 
come  from  God.  Homer  attributes 
such  genius  and  arts  as  we  have  men- 
tioned, to  Minerva  and  Vulcan.  (Ocfy. 
/.  6.  V.  232.) 

*'  At  by  some  artist  to  whom  Vulcan  gives 
His  skill  dhinej  a  breathing  statue  lives. 
By  Pallas  taught,  he  frames  the  wondrous 

mould, 
And  o'er  the  silver  pours  the  fusile  gold." 

Popk: 

The  wisest  man  that  ever  lived,  long 
before,  spoke  more  to  the  point  when 
he  said,  "  I,  Wisdom,  dwel^with  Pru- 
dence,  and  find  out  knowledge  oi  witty 
inventionJ^ 

Having,  we  presume,  established  the 
origin  of  geniuty  arts  andsdencesy  it 
would  be  pleasing,  had  we  time,  to  re- 
flect on  the  use  made  of  them  by  mo- 
ral philosophers.  They  have  shown 
us  the  relations  in  which  w^  stand  to 
our  great  Creator,  and  our  fellow  men. 
They  have  demonstrated  that  vice  is 
not  only  hateful  ip  its  own  nature,  but 
that  it  entails  misery  on  its  perpetra- 
tors, and  that  virtue  g^ves  rewards  to 
those  who  follow  her  ways.  Such  re- 
jections are  calculated  to  enlarge  our 
minds,  as  well  as  to  expand  our  hearts. 
We  are  not  only  bound  to  be  grateful 
for  this  source  of  pleasure  and  felicity, 
but  for  every  source  of  health  and 
lawful  pleasure  which  convenience  af- 
fords. The  most  useful  and  perma- 
nent of  all  our  earthly  pleasures  and 
blessings,  are  derived  directly,  or  in- 
directly, from  qiechanical  skill.  The 
great  difference,  between  the  savage 
and  the  civilized,  lies  between  the 
wigwam  and  the  comfortable  house. 
.  Give  the  sick  man  his  medicine,  the 
hungry  man  his  food,  but  let  the  man 
who  is  to  enjoy  the  conveniencies  and 
sinless  pleasures  of  this  life,  repair  to 
a  bouse  of  temperance,  well  furnished, 
Which  is  impossible  without  mechani- 


cal skill,  or  the  advantages  of  Ope¥ar 
tive  Mawnry. 

This  science  in  its  origin,  nature^ 
and  adfHtniageij  has  been  maintained 
by  its  real  friends,  from  Solomon  dows 
to  Christopher  Wren  and  Inigo  Jones^ 
All  that  is  necessary,  has  been  said  on 
this  subject ;  but  taking  into  view  the 
time  and  occasion  on  which  we  are  a»* 
sembled,  it  may  not  be  deemed  irrel- 
evant to  offer,  to  this  assembly,  a  few 
thoughts  on  the  origin^  naturcy  and 
design  q(  Speculative  Masonry,  This 
we  define  to  be  <<the  constitution  and 
laws  by  which  the  Masonic  fintemitj 
are  organized  and  governed,  as  Free 
and  Accepted  Masons.''    On  examin- 
ing the  history  of  the  building  of  the 
temple,  it  seems  impossible  not  to  ad- 
mit that  the  workman  were  regularly 
organized,  and  governed  in  harmony 
and  peace.  Wjiat  then  is  more  natural 
than  that  those  men,  (to  go  no  fordier 
back)  should  have  formed  friendships 
after  tlie  temple  was  completed,  and 
associated  themselves  together  for  be- 
nevolent purposes,  as  Masons  do  at 
this  day.  If  this  be  admitted,  and  some 
think  it  can  be  demonstrated,  we  have 
no  difficulty  about  the  origin  of  spe- 
culative Masonry,  which  can  nciak^ 
us  hesitate  in  determining  it  to  be  of 
longer  standing  than  the  gospel  dis- 
pensation.   It  IS  the  nature  of  this  tn^ 
stitution  to  cement  by  cluuritMe  bemit, 
each  of  its  own  members  to  aU  the 
rest,  on  the  principle  that  they  am 
^^  good  and  true ;"  taking  special  puna 
that  none  but  such  shall  be  kdiaitted 
amonff  them.  Perhaps  this,  like  many 
other  human  institutions,  fails  bytimei 
In  the  reign  of  James  11,  an  apfn^n* 
tice  had  to  be  no  bastopdy  no  bontb* 
many  of  a  good  Idndredy  and  Jree^ 
bom  md  true,*    Is  there  the  same 
attention  paid  to  the  admission  of  ap- 
prentices now?  There  is  no  difiereoee 
between  good  and  bad  laws,  if  neitiMr 
are  enforced.    The  design  oi  Masomy 
is  to  illuminate  die  minds,  and  aEilaige 
the  hearts  of  men.    It  teaches  moral 

*  Vide  Webb's  new  and  improved  eA« 
tion  of  the  Mason's  Moa^u^^pafe  97- 


B1A80NIC. 


365 


by  symbolical  representations. 
The  symbols  are  generally  taken  from 
tbe  implements  of  agricultinre.  The 
professed  intention  is  to  diffuse  Kien- 
tife  light  and  moral  rectitude  through- 
out the  world ;  it  would  be  destroyed 
by  initiating  into  its  mysteries  all  man- 
kiiid^as  completely  as  chemistry  would 
be  destroyed  by  setting  all  men  down  to 
a  laboratory.  Masonry  binds  her  sons 
t©  exercise  brotherly-love;  to  relieve 
tbe  distressed;  to  adhere  strictly  to 
troth;  to  be  guided  by  temperance ;  to 
cuhivate  fortitude;  to  exercise  pru- 
dence; and  invariably  to  practice  jus- 
tice in  all  the  relations  of  life.  She 
iotrodoces  a  brother  by  teaching  him 
las  own  intellectual  and  moral  dark- 
ness, and  points  him  to  the  paths  of 
Ugkt  and  vjisdom^  step  by  step,  until 
be  becomes  acquainted  with  those  in- 
egMt  degrees,  that  may  be  used  by 
mm  as  emblems  of  those  high  degrees 
af  joyi  above,  to  which  the  gospel 
ifi^tes  him  with  all  the  charms  of 
grace. 

Should  you  inquire — Is  Afasonry, 
Religion  ?  We  answer,  no :  Morality 
is  not  Christianity ;  philosophy  is  not 
Christianity;  mathematics  is  not  reli- 
gion^ nor  is  architecture;  yet,  it  would 
be  strange  arguing  to  infer,  that  arts 
and  sciooces  are  of  no  use  to  mankind 
la  this  world,  because  they  will  not 
qndify  diera  for  the  world  to  come ; 
and  sorely,  at  the  least,  as  much  may 
be  8ud  for  Masonry.  Permit  us  to 
add,  that  Masonry  is  a  benevolent  in- 
stitutimi,  and  if  its  principles  inculcate 
nitue,  and  decenc^,  and  good  breed- 
iag,  why  is  it  everywhere  spoken  a- 

e'  lat.  Perhaps  ignorance  and  envy 
e  produced  all  the  clamour  we  have 
heard  on  this  subject  If  the  celebrated 
Dr.  Robertson  had  but  half  examined 
this  sofoject,  sorely  he  would  not  have 
hbonred  to  identify  Masonry  with 
nhraaiiiism,  which  is  known  to  bid 
Arad  defifloice  to  all  laws  and  institu- 
dons,  human  and  divine,  while  one 
ardde  in  a  Mason's  creed  is  I'not  to 
becmcemed  In  plots  and  conspira- 
ms  agBimt  goiwrnflieDt.''    We  have 


been  thus  tedious  because  we  believe 
the  Masons  have  been,  and  still  are, 
misrepresented  in  their  motives  and 
ceremonies.*  How  often  has  it  been 
affirmed,  that  they  have  no  secrets, 
that  the  whole  is  a  hypocritical  farce. 
Who  can  bring  himself  to  believe,  that 
ten  thousand  good  men,  from  Alfred 
tbe  great,  down  to  our  immortal  Wash- 
ington, were  nothing  but  a  set  of  sanc- 
timonious hypocrites  ? 

You  will  then  say  that  some  of  the 
members  of  this  fraternity  are  vicious, 
or  dishonourable :  We  grant  it,  and  ask 
if  the  same  cannot  be  said  of  every 
society  on  earth.  The  Mason  is  ne- 
cessarily an  apostate  from  his  princi- 
ples, who  becomes  intemperate  or  dis- 
honourable, and  the  only  objection 
that  can  be  made  against  the  Masonic 
body  in  such  a  case,  must  be,  that 
they  have  not  excommunicated  the 
undeserving.  It  is  no  trifling  com- 
mendation of  Masonry,  thdt  her  mem* 
bers  cannot  be  infidels.  They  must 
believe  the  Bible;  they  cannot  be  Pe- 
lagians or  Socinians,  they  must  be- 
lieve in  the  moral  depravity  of  the 
human  family;  they  must  believe  in 
the  doctrine  of  the  trinity,  and  of  course 
in  the  operation  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 
Except  the  Masonic,  we  think  there  b 
no  society,  civil  or  religious,  on  eartfe, 
which  has  not  product  talumniators 
of  the  body  to  which  they  had  been  at- 
tached. Monarchy  has  brought  forth 
its  Cromwell  and  Robespierre ;  repub- 
licanism, her  Philip  and  Caesar ;  Chris- 
tianity, her  Julian  and  Tendal;  but 
who  ever  heard  one  of  the  excommu- 
nicated Masons  slander,  abuse,  or  tell 
those  vile  truths  so  often  detailed 
among  the  ignorant  populace.  Does 
it  not  belong  to  human  nature,  when 
irritated,  to  justify  itself  (to  say  the 
least)  by  exposing  the  baseness  of 
those,  if  we  know  it,  who  have  hurled 
everlasting  excommnnicatiou  at  our 
heads. 

*  Heie  the  author  made  sooie  iltustra- 
tioDs  referiDg  to  bb  own  knowMge)  wbieh 
are  omitted.  . .  . 

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UAnostc. 


A  word  to  those  on  whose  account 
we  are  assembled,  and  we  conclude. 

You  are  an  organized  society  of  high 
antiquity,  and  though  we  admit  there 
is  no  moral  duty  enjoined  by  your 
constitution  and  laws,  but  what  is 
urged  with  stronger  motives  by  Chris- 
tianity, yet  it  is  certainly  in  your  pow- 
er to  do  much  good.  We  most  sincere- 
ly recommend  to  you  to  wipe  away 
your  reproach,  by  adhering  firmly  to 
truth,  cleaving  earnestly  to  sobriety 
and  temperance,  modelling  your  lives 
by  equity  and  justice,  and  continuing 
in  the  exercise  of  that  charity  and  be- 
nevolence which  has  long  been  the 
characteristic  of  your  fraternity.  Your 
order  never  was  intended  to  include  all 
men,  and  is  it  not  a  radical  error  to 
admit  members  that  will  never  do  you 
honour.  If  you  cannot  reclaim,  expel 
such  from  among  you ;  for,  according 
to  your  principles,  an  intemperate,  dis- 
honest Mason,  is  as  great  a  contradic- 
tion as  an  irreligious  impious  Chris- 
tian. **  By  putting  away  every  bro- 
ther that  walketh  disorderly ,''  you 
may  become  a  praise  on  the  earth. 
Then,  how  delightful  will  be  your 
work.  To  ameliorate  the  miseries  of 
mankind  will  be  your  joy.  Your  man- 
ner of  doing  good,  ought  to  put  qur 
modem  Christians  to  the  blush,  for 
your  charity  never  reaches  the  news- 
papers and  public  prints,  like  those 
who  do  good  to  be  seen  of  men.  We 
are  sorry,  that  in  this  case.  Christians 
should  have  less  sense  of  propriety, 
and  less  knowledge  of  the  gospel  than 
you.  Be  this  as  it  may,  you  will  go 
on  to  cause  '<  the  widow's  heart  to  sing 
for  joy."  Let  your  bounty  feed  the 
hungry ;  extend  your  clemency  to  the 
distressed,  and  cast  a  ray  of  light  ^n 
every  benighted  mind;  always  culti- 
vate and  cherish  the  sympathies  of 
your  nature ;  let  your  whole  life  be 
without  an  aberration  from  troth,  or  a 
dereliction  from  justice.  You  will  ever 
meet  with  objects  of  distress :  be  ever 
ready  to  prove  the  goodness  of  your 
system  by  shielding  the  defenceless, 
protecting  the  weak^  and  casting  your 


mantle  roond  the  shiveriog  limbiof 
the  naked.  And  if  you  can  do  no 
more,  shed  the  tear  of  sympathy  with 
the  disconsolate;  even  this  seeming 
trifle  may  never  be  forgotten. 

But,  sirs,  I  think  1  am  in  my  proper 
place,  when  I  tell  you,  ^^  Ye  must  be 
bom  again."  Having  obtained  the  fight 
of  your  science,  you  must  seek  and  ob« 
tain  '^  the  light  of  the  glory  of  God,  in 
the  face  of  Jesus  Christ."  Then^ 
squaring  your  lives  by  the  gospel,  and 
regulating  your  hearts  by  the  Spirit  of 
grace,  when  death,  the  gramd  leveOer^ 
comes,  having  finished  your  work,  yea 
shall  be  caught  up  to  the  third  hea- 
vens by  theOreat  Architect  of  the  uni- 
verse, and  spend  eternity  in  unutterable 
praises.  These  blessings,  in  time  and 
eternity  we  sincerely  wish  yo«^ through 
Jesus  Christ.    Amen. 

MASONIC  ARAB. 
The  following  aixouDt  will  be  read  witik 
much  interest  by  the  brethren  of  tbe  crafty 
as  affording  conclusive  evidence  of  the 
truth  of  the  position  assumed  by  them,  that 
the  light  of  Masonry  is  co-extensive  with 
tlie  great  natural  luminary  of  our  planeta- 
ry system ;  and  that  its  principles  flourish 
alike  vigorously  in  the  frozen  regions  c^ 
Lapland,  or  the  scorching  deserts  of  Africa. 
To  our  readers  generally,  it  will  afford 
some  additional  particulars  of  a  country, 
now  familiarized  to  them  by  the  NairatiTe 
of  Riley.  The  Rio  del  Ou^,  or  River  of 
Gold,  in  which  the  sloop  of  war  anchored, 
enters  the  ocean  in  latitude  24,  h .,  botweea 
Cape  Bajador,  where  the  Commerce  was 
wrecked,  and  Cape  Barbas,  tl^  place  at 
which  captain  Riley  was  afterwards  made 
captive  by  the  wandering  Arabs. 

AFBICA. 

We  are  indebted  to  our  correspond- 
ent at  Cape  de  Verd  Islands,  for  the 
following  information  of  the  Rio  Oiiro 
and  the  coast  of  Africa,  from  Cape 
Bajador  to  Cape  Blanco. — Boston  Pa^ 
triot. 

Port  Praya,  St.  JagOj  Dec.  21. 

Arrived  his  Britaiuuc  AfMeiQr'a  aUp 

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MASONIC* 


867 


Lev€U,  Capt.  D.  E.  Bartholomew,  cji. 
commaiKler,  last  from  Rio  Ouro  and 
Cape  Blanco,  and  sailed  on  the  2d 
January,  for  Goree  and  the  Gambia, 
surveying.  Captain  Bartholomew  in- 
forms, that  at  Rio  Ouro,  lie  had  an 
intenriew  with  a  tribe  of  wandering 
Arabs,  and  strange  to  learn,  found 
tunoDg  them  a  Free  Mason,  who  spoke 
a  tittle  Spanish,  and  said  that  in  Ara- 
iMa  Felix,  where  he  had  been,  were 
maoy  Free  Masons,  and  offered  to  go 
on  board  the  ship,  but  was  prevented 
by  the  chief.  These  Arabs  are  in  the 
Inbit  of  burying  their  bodies  in  the 
nnd,  whenever  they  discover  a  boat 
approach  the  shore,  and  lie  thus  con- 
cealed until  the  party  land,  when  by  a 
signal  or  yell  of  the  chief,  they  all  in- 
stantly rise,  surprise  and  make  pnson- 
en  cf  the  party.  The  officers  and 
crew  of  the  Leven,  whenever  they 
landed,  were  prepared  with  side  arms 
and  muskets,  and  when  approaching 
the  natives,  required  them  to  lay  down 
their  arms,  they  doing  the  same.  Cap- 
fain  Bartholomew  describes  them  as  a 
treacherous  race,  and  though  he  never 
saw  above  six  or  seven  persons  at  a 
time,  yet  he  never  saw  the  same  per- 
sons a  second  time,  save  the  chief. 

On  getting  under  weigh  and  coming 
down  the  river,  he  saw  numerous  fires 
along  the  banks,  signals  of  his  depar- 
ture, and  believes  that  a  lai^e  number 
of  the  natives  had  assembled  at  difier^ 
ent  points,  waiting  a  favourable  mo- 
ment to  board  the  ship.  Captain  Bar^ 
tholomew  thinks,  from  their  expres* 
sions,  they  knew  his  ship  to  be  a  man 
of  war,  and  looking  at  the  colours^ 
made  a  loud  yell,  aiid  said  they  were 
not  Spanish.  He  describes  the  river, 
if  such  it  may  be  called,  as  behig  about 
twenty-three  miles  in  length,  and  three 
in  width,  and  the  banks  not  so  high  as 
the  topmast  head,  with  quicksand  bot- 
tom, for  in  weighing  his  anchor,  found 
it  buried  severid  feet  in  the  sand,  and 
voany  fathoms  of  the  chain  worn  per- 
fectly bright.  He  found  the  channel 
winding,  and  passage  intricate,  and 
•a   the  bar  at  the  mouth  was  only 


water  to  pass  at  spring-tide,  coaae- 
quently  had  to  remain  until  the  next 
spring-tide  before  he  could  return. 
.  At  the  head  of  the  river  is  a  small 
island,  containing  two  or  three  acres, 
but  he  could  discover  no  fresh  water, 
though  from  the  appearance  a  large 
stream  emptied  in  against  the  island 
during  the  rainy  season.  No  ore  or 
earth  was  found  containing  gold,  from 
which  the  river  derived  its  name,  nor 
huts,  nor  verdure  discovered  as  far  as 
the  eye  could  reach,  and  nothing  was 
seen  but  a  dreary  sandy  desert.  Cap- 
tain Bartholomew  sounded  the  coast 
from  Cape  Bajador  to  Cape  Blanco, 
which  he  found  regular,  and  anchored 
every  night  in  fourteen  fathoms,  dis- 
tance five  miles  from  shore,  except  at 
Cape  Barbas,  where  he  anchored  in 
fourteen  fathoms,  distance  three  miles 
from  shore.  He  found  good  bottom 
in  twenty-five  fathoms,  distance  tea 
miles  from  shore,  and  thinks  that  ves- 
sels may  with  safety  run  into  nine  fo- 
thoms,  with  cables  bent,  excepting 
into  St.  Cyprian's  Bay,  where  it  is  bet- 
ter to  keep  a  greater  distance,  in  order 
to  weather  Cape  Barbas.  Captain 
Bartholomew  saw  no  huts  along  the 
coast  excepting  at  the  bottom  of  St. 
Cyprian's  Bay,  where  he  discovered 
six  on  a  low  piece  of  table  land,  and 
in  the  Bay  saw  two  wrecks,  a  ship  and 
brig,  the  latter  supposed  to  be  the 
Mary,  of  New  Bedford,  wrecked  ia 
1818;  saw  nothing  of  the  wreck  of  the 
brig  Commerce  at  Cape  Bajador. 


EXTRACT, 

From  a  Masonic  Sernoon,  delivered  ia  Ma- 
sons* Hall,  Lexiiigtooy  Kentucky,  before 
the  Grand  Lodge,  at  their  annual  convo- 
cation, in  August,  1820,  a.  l.  6820:  By 
C.  W.  Cloud,  o.  c.  g.  l.  k. 

"  Let  Brotherly  Love  continue,'^ 
Hebrewi  xiii,  and  i. 

^^  As  Masons,  you,  my  brothers,  need 
not  be  told  of  the  reciprocal  affinity  by 
which  we  are  allied  to  one  another ; 
nor  need  I  remind  y/w  ^^this  time, 

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MASONIC. 


that  brotherly  love  amoag  Masoas  is 
an  esseDtial  logredient  in  the  forma- 
tion of  our  social  compact ;  then  let 
hrtdherlv  love  continue  Among  Masons. 
That  this  may  be  our  portion  as  bro- 
thers, we  must  receive,  acknowledge, 
and  obey,  a  law,  or  general  rule  of 
our  faith  and  practice  adapted  to  our 
social  relation,  and  emanating  from  an 
approved  source.  No  one  among  us 
has  any  just  claim  to  the  privilege  of 
giving  laws  to  another.  As  brothers, 
we  enter  upon  all  those  moral  and  vo- 
luntary relationships  to  each  other 
upon  the  level.  A  brother  then  is  not 
superior  to  a  brother ;  nor  is  he  to  be 
esteemed  as  an  inferior ;  each  yielding 
alike,  some  minor  though  inherent 
rights,  that  he  may  be  eaually  partaker 
of  the  general  good ;  alike  conscious 
of  our  natural  ignorance,  and  impo- 
tency,  and  of  the  necessity  of  a  faith- 
ful leader  during  our  pilgrimage  through 
this  life.  The  Mason  as  well  as  the 
Christian,  has  taken  the  word  of  God 
as  revealed  in  the  canonical  scriptures 
of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  as 
the  rule  of  their  faith  and  practice. — 
There  they  arejtaught  to  have  faith  in 
God;  hope  in  immortality,  and  char- 
ity to  all  men ;  to  mind  the  same  things ; 
tp  work  by  die  same  rule,  and  care- 
fully to  observe  and  preserve  the  same 
sacred  levely  upon  which  we  entered 
into  this  social,  this  fraternal  relatioB- 
ship  to  each  other,  that  brotherly  love 
wuLy  continue.  In  divine  revelation, 
the  great  light  both  of  the  Chrbtian 
and  Masonic  world,  we  are  mutually 
taught  to  love  one  another,  ^'i^ot  in 
won!  only,  but  in  deed  and  in  truth.'^ 
We  are  sdso  told  that  this  is  the  love 
of  God,  that  we  keep  his^command- 
ments ;  and  by  this,  says  Jesus  Christ, 
shall  all  men  know  that  ye  are  my  dis- 
ciples, if  ye  have  love  one  to  another. 
We  are  taught  to  ^^do  unto  others  as 
we  would  they  should  do  unto  us ;'' 
to  love  our  brother  as  ourself ;  to  bear 
each  other's  burdens ;  and  so  fulfil  the 
law  of  Christ:  thus  strictly  observing 
our  duty  each  to  the  other  in  our  indi- 
vidual capacity,  we  derive  both  plea- 


sure and  profit  from  the  general  ndc5^ 
by  which  we  are  governed  collective- 
ly ;  nor  shall  we  be  disposed  to  reject 
as  the  Jews  did,  tliis  inestimable  booa 
of  Heaven;  this  light  of  the  gospel, 
because  the  Divine  Giver  of  all  good 
has  previously  invested  us  with  iafe- 
rior  donations.  It  is  our  duty,  and 
ought  to  be  our  delight,  implicitly  to 
obey  the  voice,  and  joyfully  to  do  the 
will  of  God,  in  whatever  way  it  mav 
be  revealed  to  us;  whether  he  spealc 
as  he  'Sid  to  Adam,  to  Enoch,  to  Noah, 
to  Abraham,  to  Moses,  and  to  others, 
our  brethren  in  this  mystic  order,  by 
an  immediate  voice  from  Heaven,  or 
whether  it  be  through  universal  nature, 
wherein  the  firmament  of  Heaven,  the 
sun,  the  moon,  and  the  stars  speak 
forth  his  will  in  his  wonderful  works ; 
or  whether  it  be  from  a  survey  of  the 
globe  which  we  inhabit,  where  every 
plain  if  a  leaf,  and  every  river  a  line, 
in  which  we  may  read  that  there  is 
<<  a  God  above  us,  that  he  delights  m 
virtue ;"  or  whether  with  David  we 
learn  from  the  diurnal  motion  of  this 
earth,  that  day  unto  dav  otteretk 
speech,  and  night  unto  night  showeth 
knowledge;  or  whether  we  hear  his 
voice,  speakinc,  as  to  our  fathers,  by 
the  prophets,  (for  which  the  Jews  con- 
tended) or  whether  he  speak  to  os  by 
his  Son,  our  Saviour,  and  the  apostles, 
as  in  those  last  days  he  has  done,  it  is 
our  unquestionable  duty,  as  well  as  oar 
high  privilege,  to  receive  his  testimo- 
ny, and  to  obey  his  law,  as  the  rule  of 
our  faith  and  practice.  And  as  the 
dignified  rank  in  •creation  that  man  is 
destined  to  hold,  and  the  noble  faad- 
ties  with  which  he  is  endowed,  deariy 
indicate  our  accountability  to  our  Cre- 
ator, we  ought  to  be  the  more  carefiil 
in  tracing  our  religious  genealogy,  that 
it  may  appear  that  we  are  the  sons  of 
God;  being  entitled  to  this  privilege 
on  the  reception  of  his  word;  and 
thus  becoming  brethren,  we  should,  i« 
obedience  to  our  Heavenly  Father's 
will,  let  brotherly  love  continue.  la 
the  holy  rule  of  our  feith  and  practice, 
as  revealed  in  the  sacred  scriptures. 

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'art  cootained  innamerable  incentives 
to  determine  us  in  favour  of  continuing 
In  brotlierly  love.  Our  own  ezperi- 
ence,  reason,  tradition,  religion,  and 
Masonry^  all  combine  in  justification 
of  this  doctrine.  Then  let  me  stir  up 
jour  pure  minds  by  way  of  remem- 
hmnce  of  the  things  you  have  kn6wnf 
when  like  St.  Paul,  caught  up  into  the 
third  Heavens,  there  to  hearwoBDS 
not  lawful  to  be  uttered^  which,  never^ 
tbdess,  must  influence  the  mind  of 
every  true  and  faithful  brother  among 
us,  in  favour  of  the  sacred  lecture  con- 
tained in  our  text.  Brotherly  love  or 
charity  suflereth  long,  and  is  kind; 
charity  envieth  not ;  charity  vaunteth 
a^t  itself;  is  not  puffed  up ;  rejoiceth 
not  in  iniquity,  but  rejoiceth  in  truth ; 
is  not  easily  provoked;  thinketh  no 
evil.  Charity  never  faileth;  it  is  great- 
er than  faith;  il  is  greater  than  hope; 
h  emanoea  from  God,  who.  is  love ; 
it  conibnostts  to  his  image;  and  while 
k  is  leading  as  back  to  the  enjoyment 
of  bis  presence,  in  patht  we  had  not 
kmmmf  tmd  while  through  it$  eacred 
iM09fence  darknese  it  nu»de  light  6e- 
/0re  ttf ,  we  can  say  noiwithttanding 
the  dangere  and  dificuUiee  </  the 
ua^f  behold  how  good  and  how  plea- 
sant it  is  for  brethren  to  dwell  together 
in  unity,  as  the  dew  of  Hermon  that 
itesceaded  upon  the  mountains  of  Zion, 
for  there  the  Lord  commanded  a  bless- 
ing; even  hie  for  evermore.'' 

THE  CARDINAL  MASONIC  VIRTUES. 
Having  in  the  preceding  numbers 
given  illustrations  of  the  lectures  on 
the  first  three  degrees  of  Masonry,  we 
shall  now  proceed  with  some  remarks 
on  the  several  Masonic  virtues,  among 
which,  are  Brotherly  Love,  Relief,  and 
Truth ;  but  the  four  cardinal  virtues 
are  Temperance^  Fortitude^  Prudence^ 
and  Juetice. 

BROTiUKLT  LOVI. 

By  the  exercise  of  this  virtue,  we 
are  taught  to  regard  the  whole  species 
of  mankind,  as  one  family,  the  high, 

1  the  low,  the  rich,  and  the  poor. 


without  distinctioa;  who,  as  created 
by  the  same  Ahaighty  Parent,  and  in- 
habiting the  same  planet,  are  bound  to 
aid,  support,  and  piotect  each  othear. 
On  this  principle.  Masonry  unites  men 
of  all  countries,  nations,  sects,  and  lan- 
guages, and  conciliates  true  friendship 
among  those  who  might  otherwise 
have  remained  at  a  pcfrpetual  distance. 

ABLIEF, 

Is  die  next  tenet  of  our  profession. 
To  relieve  the  distressed,  soothe  ca- 
lamity, alleviate  misfortunes,  compas- 
sionate misery,  and  use  all  possible 
means  to  restore  peace  to  the  troubled 
mind,  are  duties  incumbent  on  every 
member  of  the  great  family  of  man- 
kind ;  but  more  particularly  on  Ma- 
sons, who  are  linked  together  by  an 
indissoluble  chain  of  sincere  affection, 
and  whose  grand  aim  is  to  ameliorate 
the  condition  of  mankind.  On  this 
basis,  every  true  Mason  forms  his  con- 
nections, and  establishes  his  friend- 


TBUTH, 

The  foundation  of  every  virtue,  is 
an  attribute  of  the  Deity,  and  one  of 
the  first  lessons  taught  in  Masonry. 
While  our  conduct  is  influenced  by 
Truth,  hypocrisy  and  deodt  will  be 
strangers  among  us,  sincerity  will  dis- 
tinguish us,  while  our  hearts  and  our 
tongues  will  unite  in  promoting  each 
other's  welfare,  and  rejoicing  in  ead^ 
other's  prosperity. 

TfiMPinANCV 

Instructs  us  to  govern  our  passions, 
to  place  a  due  restraint  upon  all  our 
affections  and  desu-es,  and  frees  the 
mind  from  the  allurements  of  vice.  It 
invigorates  the  body,  and  should  be  the 
constant  practice  of  every  Mason,  by 
which  pneans  he  will  be  enabled  to 
preserve  inviolate,  the  solemn  obliga^ 
tions  he  is  under  to  the  craft. 

FOKTlTUnE 

Enables  us  to  endure  pain,  encoun* 
ter  danger,  when  with  prudence  it  is 
deemed  necessary,  and  to  withstand 

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370  MASONIC. 

the  various  temptations  iacident  to 
human  life.  It  is  equally  distant  from 
rashness  and  cowardice,  and  should 
be  deeply  impressed  upon  the  mind  of 
every  Mason,  Jo  guard  him  against 
all  unjust  attacks,  either  upon  his  per- 
son, property,  or  prindples. 

FRUDENCB 

Should  be  the  peculiar  characteristic 
of  every  Mason,  as  it  instructs  us  to 
r^iulate  Qur  conduct  agreeably  to  the 
dictates  of  reason  and  justice,  and  pro- 
perly to  judge  and  determine  on  every 
point  touching  our  present  and  foture 
happiness.  It  is  that  virtue  on  which 
jdl  others  depend,  and  is,  therefore, 
the  chief  jewel  that  can  adorn  the  hu- 
man frame* 

JtJSTICE 

Is  the  boundary  of  rights,  and  con- 
stitutes the  cement  of  civil  society;  it 
teaches  us  to  render  to  every  man  his 
just  due,  either  in  point  of  property  or 
character ;  it  in  a  great  measure  con- 
stitutes the  real  good  man,  and  it 
should  be  the  invariable  practice  of 
Masons  nevet  to  deviate  from  its  mi- 
nutest principles. 


MASONIC  EMBLEMS. 
THE  BOOK  OF  CONSTITUTIONS,  GUARD- 
ED BY  THE  TVLBr's  SWORD, 

Reminds  us  that  we  should  be  ever 
watchful  and  guarded,  in  our  thoughts, 
words,  and  actions,  particularly  when 
before  the  enemies  of  Masonry;  ever 
bearing  in  remembrance  those  truly 
Masonic  virtues,  $ilence  and  ctrcum" 
Return. 

THE  THEEiE  STEPS, 

Usually  delineated  upon  the  mas- 
ter's carpet,  are  emblematical  of  the 
three  principal  stages  of  hitmfan  life, 
viz.  youth,  manhood,  aud  age.  In 
youth,  as  entered  applrentices,  we 
ought  industriously  to  occupy  our 
minds  in  the  attainment  of  useful 
knowledge:  in  manhood,  as  fellow 
crafts,  we  should  apply  our  knowledge 
to  Ae  discharge  of  our  respective  du- 


ties to  God,  our  nei^boun,  and  ocif- 
selves;  that  so  in  age,  as  master  Ma- 
sons, we  may  enjoy  the  happy  reflec- 
tions consequent  on  a  well-epent  lite, 
and  die  in  the  hope  of  a  glorious  im- 
mortality. 

THE  SWORD,  POINTING  TO  A  NAUCD 
HEART, 

Demonstrates  that  justice  will  soon- 
er or  later  overtake  us ;  and  although 
our  thoughts,  words,  and  actions,  may 
be  hidden  from  the  eyes  of  man^  j«t 
that 

ALL  SEEING  EYE, 

Whom  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars 
obey,  and  under  whose  watchful  care 
even  comets  perform  their  stupendous 
revolutions,  pervades  the  Inmost  re- 
cesses of  the  human  heart,  and  wul 
reward  us  according  to  our  merits. 

THE  ANCHOR  AND  ARK 

Are  emblems  of  a  Mr^l^Oiinded 
Aope,  and  a  well-spent  iWe.  They  are 
emblematical  of  that  divine  ark  which 
safely  wafts  us  over  this  tempesitoous 
sea  of  troubles,  and  that  anchor  which 
slv,ail  safely  moor  us  in  a  peaceful  har- 
bour, where  the  wicked  ceaae  fnnn 
troubling,  and  the  weary  shall  find  reM, 

THE   HOUR-dLASS 

Is  an  emblem  of  hummi  ]t% ;  be- 
hold !  how  swiftly  the  sands  rmiy  sad 
bow  rapidly  our  lives  are  draving  to  a 
close.  We  cannot  without  astonbh- 
ment  behold  the  little  particles  which 
are  contained  in  this  machine,  Iiow 
they  pass  away  almost  imperceptibly, 
and  yet,  to  our  surprise,  in  the  short 
space  of  an  hour  they  are  all  ezhautf- 
ed.  Thus  wastes  man!  to-day  he 
puts  forth  the  tender  leaves  of  hope ; 
to-morrow,  blossoms,  and  bears  his 
blushing- honours  thick  upon  him  ;  the 
next  day  comes  a  frost,  which  nips  tk« 
shoot,  and  when  he  thiqks  his  giMtJ 
ness  is  still  aspiring,  he  falls,  like  aun 
tumn  leaves,  to  enrich  our  Kioihe^ 
earth. 

THE  POT  OP  tNGSNtt 

Is  an  emblem  of  a  pur^  KeaH/iMii^ 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC, 


MASONIC. 


sn 


is  alwi^  ate  acceptable  sacrifice  to  the 
Deity ;  and,  as  this  dows  with  fervent 
ht^tj  so  should  our  hearts  coatinually 
glow  with  gratitude  to  the  great  and 
l^eneficent  Author  of  our  existence,  for 
the  manifold  blessings  and  comforts 
we  enjoy, 

THB  BKJB  BIVB 

la  an  emblem  of  industry,  and  re^ 
cooimenda  the  practice  of  that  virtue 
to  all  created  b^ngs,  from  the  highest 
seraph  in  Heaven^  to  the  lo^iest  reptile 
of  the  earth.  It  teaches  us  that,  as  we 
came  into  the  worid  rational  and  in 
(eUigeat  beings,  so  we  should  ever  be 
industrious  ones ;  never  sitting  down 
contented  while  our  fellow-creatures 
around  us  are  in  want,  when  it  is  in 
our  power  to  relieve  them,  without  in- 
convenience to  ourselves. 

When  we  take  a  survey  of  nature, 
we  view  man,  in  his  in^cy,  more 
iielpless  and  indigent  than  the  brutal 
creation ;  he  lies  languishing  for  days, 
months,  and  years,  totally  incapable 
of  pfo^dding  sustenance  for  himself,  of 
guarding  against  the  attack  of  the  wild 
beasts  of  the  field,  or  sheltering  him- 
self from  the  inclemencies  of  the  weap 
tber. 

It  might  have  pleased  the  great  Cre- 
ator of  fieaven  and  earth  to  have  made 
man  iadependent  of  all  other  beings; 
boly  as.  dependence  is  one  of  the 
lUtmgptt  bonds  of  society,  mankind 
wece  nmde  dependent  on  each  other 
fiir  piTDieetion  and  security,  as  they 
thereby  enjoy  better  opportunities  of 
{UfiUng  tlie  duties  of  reciprocal  love 
fmd  fiiendship.  Thus  was  man  formed 
"' '  social  and  ^tive  life,  the  noblest 
;  of  the  work  of  God ;  and  he  that 
so  deanean.  himself  as  not  to  be 
aTonring  to  add  to  the  qommon 
of  knovdedge  and  understand- 
magr  be  deemed  a  diroite  in  the 
r  of  oatore,  or  .useless  member  of 
/,  aac^  unworthy  of  our  proteo- 
las  Masons. 

.    TH^  SCYTHE 

h  WM  emblem  of  dme,  which  cuts 
t^ipt^ie  ^h»^  of  life,  and  launches 
ta#9iBlf)ic^.    Behdd!  what  havoc 


the  scythe  of  time  makes  among  the 
human  race ;  if  by  chatice  we  shlould 
escape  the  numerous  evils  incident  to 
childhood  and  youthy  and  with  healtk 
and  vigour  arrive  to  the  years  of  man- 
hood, yet  withal  we  must  soon  be  cut 
down  by  the  all-devouring  scythe  of 
time,  and  be  gathered  into  the  land 
where  our  fathers  are  gone  before  us. 

PTTHAOORIAN  rEOBLKM. 

When  our  ancient  friend  and  bro- 
ther, the  great  philosopher  Pythago- 
ras, had  demonstrated  the  problem 
that  <<  in  any  right  angled  triaagle,  the 
square  which  is  descrttved  upon  the 
side  subteuding  the  right  angle,  was 
equal  to  the  squares  described  upon  the 
sides  which  contain  the  right  angle," 
he  with  excessive  joy  exclaimed,  in 
the  Greek  language,  Eurekoy "  I  have 
found  it ;"  and  upon  the  discovery  he 
b  said  to  have  sacrificed  a  hecatomb. 


Foe  the  Masonic  Rxgistkr. 
JACOB'S  LADDER. 


View  Jacob's  ladder,  in  three  grades  ; 

The  TempU  one,— (its  types  and  shades^^ 

By  Matons  cherished)  until  God 

ShaU  be  reveal'd  by  jterew'f  Rod- 

And  look  you  well  to  Egypt's  lore, 

And  all  its  Hieroglyphic  store ; 

JOng  Solomon,  is  Wisdom  great, 

Btrom  of  7y«,  is  fove  in  etote ; 

AndA«ofj96ti'i8tlieait 

Of  poliih'dScieDce,  (Faith't  bright  cbaH) 


372 

Each  lodge  on  earth  is  Koah^t  Ark, 
The  dove  of  peace  may  disembark ; 
And  give  the  captive  world  some  tree. 
Of  perfect  Love  and  Liberty. 


For  tbe  Masonic  Rzgistkr. 
SCALA  CCELI. 


MASONIC. 


The  tiept  which  lead  mankind  to  Heaven, 
In  number  are  exactly  teven : 
While  we  have  Hope  we  mount  ap  four, 
And  Faitb  one  step  will  lead  as  more ; 
But  to  attain  our  journey's  end. 
True  Charity  must  prove  our  friend.* 
The  above  applies  in  Masonry, 
In  fourth,  Jifthj  nxtk,  and  $e»€nih  degree. 
Seven  grades  of  light  conform  the  world 
To  CroD's  seven  attributes  unfuri'd : 
Step  alter  qtep,  in  grant  ascent, 
Reaching  the  Throne  Magnificent. 

*  1  Corinlkiantf  xiii.  8, 13. 


MARK  MASTER'S  DEGREE. 

In  this  degree  the  candidate  is  in- 
troduced to  beauties  far  eiceeding  any 
he  has  before  dbcovered,  and  is  par- 
ticularly taught  his  dependence  on  an 
overruling  Providence,  with  an  assur- 
ance,  that  all  who  diligently  and  faith- 
fully ^'seek,  shall  find."  He  is  most 
solemnly  impressed  with  the  great  ob- 
ligations he  is  under  to  relieve  a  bro- 
ther in  distress.  It  shows  him  in  a 
very  striking  manner  the  puntshtnent 
that  awaits  the  ai^thful  and'  n^li- 
genty  and  has  a  powerful  tendency  to 
inOuence  the  mind  of  etery  reflectii^' 
broth**,  to  the  peribrmanee  of  the 


various  religious  and  moral  obiiga^ 
tions. 

"By  the  influence  of  this  degree, 
each  operative  Mason,  at  the  erection 
of  tbe  temple  of  Solomon,  was  known 
and  distinguished  by  the  senior  grand 
warden. 

"  By  its  effects  the  disordo*  and  con- 
fusion that  might  btherwise  have  at- 
tended so  immense  an  imdertaking 
was  completely  prevented:  and  not 
only  the  craftsmen  themsdves,  who 
were  eighty  thousand  in  nombcr,  but 
every  part  of  their  workmanship,  was 
discriminated  with  the  greatest  nicety, 
and  the  utmost  facility.  If  defects 
were  found,  by  the  help  of  this  degree 
the  overseers  were  enabled  wi^oot 
difficulty  to  ascertain  who  was  the 
faulty  workman :  so  that  all  deficiencies 
might  be  remedied,  without  injuring 
the  credit,  or  diminishing  the  reward 
of  the  industrious  and  faithful  of  tbe 
craft." 

Charge  to  be  read  at  Opemng  the 
Lodge. 

^  Wherefore,  brethren,  lay  aside  all 
malice,  and  goile,  and  hypocrisies,  and     * 
envies,  and  all  evil  speakings. 

"  If  so  be  ye  have  tasted  that  the 
Lord  is  gracious,  to  whom  coming  as 
unto  a  living  stone,  disallowed  imked 
of  men,  but  chosen  of  God,  and  pre- 
cious; ye  also,  as  living  stones,  be  ye 
built  up  a  spuritual  house,  an  hc9y 
priesthood,  to  offer  up  sacrifices  ac- 
ceptable to  God. 

'<  Wherefore,  also,  it  is  contained  in  \ 
the  scriptures.  Behold,  I  lay  in  Zioo, 
for  a  foundation,  a  tried  stone,  a  pre- 
cious comer  stone,  a  sure  foundation  ; 
he  that  believeth  shall  not  make  haste  ' 
to  pass  it  over.  Unto  you,  therefore^ 
which  believe,  it  is  an  honour;  and 
even  to  them  which  be  disobedient, 
the  stone  which  the  builders  disaDow- 
ed,  the  same  b  made  the  head  of  the 
comer. 

^Brethren,  this  is  the  will  of  God, 
that  with  well-doing  ye  put  to  silence 
the  ignorance  of  foolish  men.  As  froe, 
and  not  using  your  liberty  kSk  wl   * 


of  maliciousness,  but  as  the  servants 
of  God.  Honour  all  men,  love  the 
iKOtherhood,  fear  God." 

FOURTH  LECTURE. 

FIRST  SECTION. 

^  The  first  section  explains  the  man- 
ner of  convocating  and  opening  a 
mark-master's  lodge«  It  teaches  the 
stations  and  duties  of  the  respective 
officers,  and  recapitulates  the  mystic 
ceremony  of  introducing  a'  candidate, 

^  In  this  section  is  exemplified  the 
r^ularity  and  good  order  that  was  ob- 
sored  by  the  craftsmen  on  Mount  Li- 
banus,  and  in  the  plains  and  quardes 
of  Zeredathah,  and  ends  with  ^  beau- 
tjfal  display  of  the  manner  in  which 
•oe  of  the  principal  events  originated, 
which  characterises  this  degree. 

SECOND  SECTION. 

In  the  second  section,  the  mark- 
master  is  particularly  instructed  in  the 
origin  and  history  of  this  degree,  and 
the  indispensable  obligations  he  is  un- 
der to  stretch  forth  his  assisting  hand 
to  the  relief  of  an  indigent  and  worthy 
brother,  to  a  certain  and  specified  ex- 
tent. 

The  progress  made  in  architecture, 
particularly  in  the  reign  of  Solomon, 
is  remarked ;  the  number  of  artists  em- 
ployed in  building  the  temple  of  Je- 
rasalem,  and  the  privileges  they  en- 
joyed, are  specified ;  the  mode  of  re- 
warding merit,  and  of  punishing  the 
guilty,  are  pointed  out ;  and  the  marks 
of  distinction,  which  were  conferred 
on  our  ancient  brethren,  as  the  re- 
wards of  excellence,  are  named. 

In  the  course  of  the  lecture,  the  fol- 
lowing texts  of  scripture  are  intro- 
dnced,  and  explained,  viz. 

Rev,  of  St  John,  ii,  17.  To  him 
that  overcometh  will  I  give  to  eat  of 
tbe  hidden  manna,  and  will  give  him 
a  toMie  stone^  and  in  the  stone  a  new 
name  written,  which  no  man  knoweth 
saving  him  that  receiveth  it. 

2  CAroft.  ii,  l6.  And  we  will  cut 
wood  out  of  IiCbanon,  as  much  as 
tbou  shalt  need ;  and  we  will  bring  it 


MASONIC  373 

to  thee  in  fioats  by  sea  to  Joppa,  and 
thou  shalt  carry  it  up  to  Jerusalem. 

Fsalm  cxviii,  22.  The  stone  whicb 
the  builders  refused,  is  become  the 
head  stone  of  the  comer. 

MatL  xxi,  42.  Did  you  never  read 
in  the  scriptures,  The  stone  which  the 
builders  rejected,  is  become  the  head 
of  the  corner? 

MarkxiXj  10.  And  have  ye  not 
read  this  scripture.  The  stone  which 
the  builders  rejected,  is  become  the 
head  of  the  corner? 

Luke  XX,  17.  What  is  this,  then, 
that  is  written,  The  stone  which  the 
builders  rejected,  is  become  the  head 
of  the  comer. 

AcU  iv,  1 1.  This  is  the  stone  which 
was  set  at  nought  of  you,  builders, 
which  is  become  the  head  of  the  comer. 

Bev.  iit,  13.  He  that  bath  an  ear 
to  hear,  let  him  hear. 

EzekielMVj  1—3  &  5.  Then  be 
brought  me  back  the  way  of  the  gate 
of  (he  outward  sanctuary,  which  look- 
eth  toward  the  east,  and  it  was  shut. 
Then  said  the  Lord  unto  me.  This 
gate  shall  be  shut,  it  shall  not  be  open- 
ed, and  no  man  shall  enter  in  by  it ; 
because  the  Lord,  the  God  of  Israel, 
hath  entered  in  by  it,  therefore  it  shall 
be  shut.  It  is  for  the  prince;  the 
prince  1^  shall  sit  in  it  to  eat  bread 
before  the  Lord ;  he  shall  enter  by  the 
way  of  the  porch  of  that  gate,  and 
shall  ffo  out  by  the  way  of  the  same. 
And  the  Lord  said  unto  me.  Son  of 
man,  mark  well,  and  behold  with  thine 
eyes,  and  hear  with  thine  ears,  all  that 
I  say  unto  thee  concerning  all  the  or- 
dinances of  the  house  of  the  Lord,  and 
all  the  laws  thereof;  and  mark  well 
the  entering  in  of  the  house,  with  every 
going  forth  of  the  sanctuary. 

THE  WORKING  TOOLS 

Of  a  mark-master  are  the  chisel 

and  MALLET. 

The  chisel  morally  demonstrates 
the  advantages  of  discipline  and  educa- 
tion. The  mind,  like  the  diamond  in 
its  original  state,  is  rude  and  unpolish- 


874 


MASONIC. 


ed;  but,  as  the  effect  of  the  ehisel  on 
the  external  coat  soon  presents  to  view 
the  latent  beauties  of  the  diamond,  so 
education  discovers  the  latent  virtues 
of  the  mind,  and  draws  them  forth  to 
range  the  large  field  of  matter  and 
space,  to  display  the  summit  of  hu- 
man knowledge^  our  duty  to  God  and 
to  man. 

The  MALLET  morally  teaches  to 
correct  irregularities,  and  to  reduce 
man  to  a  proper  level;  so  that,  by 
quiet  deportment,  he  may,  in  the 
school  of  discipline,  learn  to  be  con- 
tent. What  the  mallet  is  to  the  work- 
man, enlightened  reason  is  to  the  pas- 
sions: it  curbs  ambition,  depresses 
envy,  it  moderates  anger,  and  it  en- 
courages good  dispositions ;  whence  a- 
rises,  among  good  Masons,  that  come- 
ly order, 

"  Which  nothing  earthly  gives,  or  can  de- 
stroy— 

'^  The  sours  calm  sunshine,  and  the  heart- 
felt joy." 

Charge  to  be  delivered  when  a  candi' 
date  U  advanced  to  the  fourth  de- 
gree. 
<<Brothsii9 

^  I  congratulate  you  on  having  been 
thought  worthy  of  being  promoted  to 
this  honourable  degree  of  Masonry. 
Permit  me  to  impress  it  on  your  mind, 
that  your  assiduity  should  ever  be 
commensurate  with  your  duties,  which 
become  more  and  more  extensive  as 
you  advance  in  Masonry. 

^<The  situation  to  which  yon  are 
BOW  promoted,  will  draw  upon  you. 
Dot  only  the  scrutinizing  eyes  of  the 
world  at  large,  but  those  also  of  your 
brethren,  on  whom  this  degree  of  Ma- 
sonry has  not  been  conferred :  all  will 
be  justified  in  expecting  your  conduct 
and  behaviour  to  be  such  as  may  with 
safety  be  imitated. 

"  In  the  honourable  character  of 
mark-master  Mason,  it  is  more  parti- 
cularly your  duty  to  endeavour  to  let 
your  conduct  in  the  world,  as  well  as 
in  the  lodge  and  among  your  breth- 
ren,  be  sum  as  may  stand  tbe  test  of 


the  Grand  Overseer's  square,  that  yoa 
may  not,  like  the  unfinished  and  im- 
perfect work  of  the  negligent  and  un- 
faithful of  former  times,  be  rejected  and 
thrown  aside,  as  unfit  for  that  spiritual 
building,  that  house  not  made  with 
hands,  eternal  in  tbe  heavens. 

<'  While  such  is  your  conduct,  should 
misfortunes  assail  you,  should  friends 
forsake  you,  should  envy  traduce  yotir 
good  name,  and  malice  persecute  you  ; 
yet  may  you  have  confidence,  that 
among  mark-master  Masons,  you  will 
find  friends  who  will  administer  relief 
to  your  distresses,  and  comfort  your 
afflictions;  ever  bearing  in  mind,  as  a 
consolation  under  all  the  frowns  of  foi^ 
tune,  and  as  an  encouragement  to  hope 
for  better  prospects,  that  the  stone 
which  the  builders  re/ected  (possessing 
merits  to  them  unknown)  became  the 
chief  stone  of  the  corner.*^ 

Previous  to  closing  the  lodge ^  the  f el- 
lowing  parable  is  recited* 

*  MATTHEW  XX,  1 — 16. 

^'  For  the  kingdom  of  heaven  b  like 
unto  a  man  that  is  an  householder^ 
which  went  out  early  in  tbe  momiog 
to  hire  labourers  into  his  vineyanL 
And  when  he  had  agreed  witb  tbe  la- 
bourers for  a  penny  a  day,  he  aepl 
them  into  his  vtneymrd.  And  be  went 
out  about  the  third  hour,  and  saw  others 
standing  idle  in  the  nuucket  place,  and. 
said  unto  them,  Go  ye  also  into  the 
vineyard,  and  whatsoever  is  rig^t  I 
will  give  you.  And  they  went  tbeir 
way.  Again  he  went  out  about  the 
sixth  and  ninth  hour,  and  did  like- 
wise. And  about  the  eleventh  faonr 
he  went  out,  and  found  others  Jtand- 
ing  idle,  and  saith  unto  them,  Why 
stand  ye  here  all  the  day  idle  ?  They 
say  unto  him,  Because  no  man  bath 
hired  us.  He  saith  unto  them,  Go  ye 
also  into  the  vineyard,  and  whatsoever 
is  right,  that  shall  ye  receive.  So 
when  even  was  come,  the  lord  of  the 
vineyard  saith  unto  his  steward,  Call 
the  labourers,  and  give  them  their 
hire,  beginning  from  the  last  unto  the 
fint.    And  when  they  came  that  were 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


UAS0N1C> 


875 


fired  about  the  eleventh  hour,  they 
received  every  man  a  penny.  But 
when  the  first  came,  they  supposed 
that  they  should  have  received  more, 
and  they  likewise  received  every  man 
a  penny.  And  when  they  had  receiv- 
ed it,  they  murmured  against  the  good 
man  of  the  house,  saying,  These  last 
have  wrought  but  one  hour,  and  thou 
hast  made  them  equal  unto  us,  which 
have  borne  the  burthen  and  heat  of 
the  day.  But  he  answered  one  of 
them,  and  said,  "  Friend,  I  do  thee  no 
wrong  :*  didst  thou  not  agree  with  me 
for  a  penny  ?  Take  that  thine  is,  and 
go  thy  way ;  I  will  give  unto  this  last 
even  as  unto  Ihee.  Is  it  not  lawful  for 
me  to  do  what  T  will  with  mine  own  ? 
Is  thine  eye  evil  because  I  am  good  ? 
So  the  last  shall  be  first,  and  the  first 
last:  for  many  are  called,  but  few 
chosen.^' 

The  ceremony  of  dosing  a  lodge  in 
this  decree,  when  properly  conducted, 
is  peciniarly  interesting.  It  assists  in 
strengthening  the  social  affections ;  it 
teaches  us  the  duty  we  owe  to  our 
brethren  in  particular,  and  the  whole 
family  of  mankind  in  general ;  by  as- 
cribing praise  to  the  meritorious,  and 
dispensing  rewards  to  the  diligent  and 
'  industrious. 

The  following  is  sang  during  the 
closing  ceremony, 

MARK  MASTiSR^S  SONG. 
JMork  Masters,  all  appear 
Before  the  Chief  O'erseer ; 

In  eoBcert  move ; 
Let  him  yoor  work  inspect^ 
For  the  Chief  Architect, 
'  If  thefe  is  no  defect, 

He  will  approve. 

Those  Who  have  pass'd  the  squatty 
For  yont  rewards  prepare, 

Join  heart  and  hand ; 
Bach  m(h  kU  tnark  in  view, 
March  with  the  just  and  true ; 
Wages  to  you  are  due, 

At  your  command. 

Hiram,  the  widow's  son, 
Sent  unto  Solomon 
Oar  freat  key-stone  3 


On  it  appears  the  name 
Which  raises  high  the  fame 
Of  ail  to  whom  the  same 
Is  truly  known. 

Now  to  the  westward  move, 
Where,  fuU  of  strength  and  love, 

Hiram  doth  stand ; 
But  if  impostures  are  ^ 
Mli'd  with  the  worthy  there, 
CmUion  ihem  to  bevare 

Of  the  right  hand. 

Now  to  the  praise  of  those 
Who  triumph'd  o'er  the  foes 

Of  Masons'  art ; 
To  the  praiseworthy  three 
Who  founded  thw  degree  : 
May  all  their  virtues  be 

Deep  in  our  hearts.    , 


MISCELLANEOUS. 

For  the  Masohic  Rbqistc«. 

THE  LAW. 

Of  all  the  professions,  that  of  the 
Law,  has,  in  thi^  country,  the  most 
absurd  and  extravagant  preponder- 
ance; and  it  indeed  would  seem,  in 
the  opinion  of  the  multitude,  that  no 
person  was  fitted  for  a  respectable 
station  in  the  community,  unless  he 
has  at  some  period  of  his  life,  had  the 
good  fortune  to  have  been  chained  to 
the  desk  of  an  attorney.  We  feel  no 
disposition  to  inquire  into  the  cause 
of  a  belief  so  ridiculous  and  unwar- 
rantable,  but  shall  proceed  at  ence  to 
show  its  utter  fallacy.  In  order  to 
prove  that  we  have  committed  no  ex- 
aggeration in  the  position  which  we 
hafve  assumed,  we  shall  preface  our 
remarks  with  the  relation  qi  a  single 
instance,  of  the  ludicrous  excesss  to 
which  this  prejudice  has  been  carried, 
within  the  recollection  of  our  readers. 
On  the  destruction  of  the  Richmond 
Theatre,  the  proprietors  of  similfitr 
establishments  throughout  the  country, 
with  a  view  of  restoring  public  confi- 
dence, as  to  the  laciHties  of  escape  in 
I  esses  of  danger^  augmented  the  number 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC      , 


376 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


of  doors  to  their  several  buildings. 
The  theatre  ia  our  city,  of  course,  un- 
derwent the  alteration,  and  an  affida- 
vit stating  the  circumstance  was  pub- 
lished in  the  several  journals.  This 
document  it  might  be  supposed  was 
(to  use  one  of  the  correct  and  classical 
expressions  of  the  bar)  over  the  signa^ 
tures  of  some  skilful  architects,  whose 
opinions,  as  to  the  number  and  suffi- 
ciency of  the  avenues,  might  be  deem- 
ed conclusive ;  or  perhaps  the  reader 
may  think,  that  the  name  of  some 
practical  mathematician,  competent  to 
the  calculation  of  the  space  requisite 
for  the  stated  passage  of  certain  cubic 
dimensions  of  matter,  might,  with 
equal  propriety,  have  been  appended. 
No  such  iking.  In  order  to  give 
greater  weight  to  the  certificate,  there 
toaa  sUuaie  (to  use  another  of  their 
elegant  phrases)  in  the  margin,  the 
dogmatical  attestation  of  a  couple  of 
omniscient  counsellors  at  law ! ! 

Nor  have  we  since  that  period  be- 
come in  any  degree  divested  of  our 
exceeding  veneration  for  this  awful 
profession.  Even  at  this  very  day,  if 
we  look  at  our  slender  repositories  of 
the  fine  arts,  we  shall  find  that  the 
most  splendid  productions  may  lan- 
guish in  obscurity,  unless  patronised 
by  some  forward,  conceited  personage, 
whose  ideas  of  tne  due  proportion  of 
^Might  and  shade,''  or  of  the  "curved 
line  of  beauty"  have  been  improved  by 
a  diurnal  reference  to  the  illustrative 
pages  of  Coke  and  Blackstone ! 

If  we  look  into  the  history  of  men 
who  have  rendered  themselves  con- 
spicuous in  the  world — if  we  turn  to 
the  lives  of  the  most  illustrious  wor- 
thies in  ancient  or  in  modem  times,  we 
shall  find  many  who  have  attained  the 
highest  niche  in  the  temple  of  fame, 
by  relinquishing  the  pursuits  for  which 
they  were  originally  destined :  fiut  in 
no  instance  we  believe  will  this  ap- 
plication comprise  a  single  individual 
of  the  profession,  where 

<<  Genins  lickens,  and  faoey  dies." 

The  unequalled  bard  who  holds  the 


intellectual  station  between  man  and 
the  immortal  beings — ^^  the  paragon  of 
animals" — the  inimitable  Shakspeare, 
fled  from  the  lowly  calliug  of  a  wool- 
retailer.  Ben.  Jonson  gave  up  the 
honest  trade  of  a  brick-layer^  and  sq- 
cufed  immortality  by  more  "  specula- 
tive masonry."  Cromwell  relinquish- 
ed agricultural  pursuits,  and  dethroned 
a  powerful  monarch.  Marshal  Dorff* 
lers  left  his  shears  and  press-board,  to 
lead  the  Prussian  legions  to  victoty. 
Washington,  the  hero  of  the  West, 
laid  by  his  drcumferenter  and  chain^ 
in  order  to  rend  the  shackles  whicH 
tyranny  was  preparing  to  impose  ob 
freedom. 

In  the  commencement  of  the  two 
W€U*s  in  which  this  country  has  been  ev- 
gaged,the  same  unfortunate  delusion 
existed,  and  was  only  overturned  by 
the  stern  reproofs  of  adversity.  Ia 
our  revolutionary  struggle,  fort  Wash- 
ington on  the  Hudson,  was  deemed 
more  than  secure  under  the  auspices 
of  a  "  Philadelphia  lawyer" — ^it  fell 
like  a  Neapolitan  army,  and  with  it, 
for  the  instant,  the  hopes  of  the  Ame- 
rican people. 

From  this  time,  the  professioa  ap> 
pear  to  have  been  confined  to  duties 
more  compatible  with  their  habits 
and  education,  and  the  result  of  the 
contest  proved  the  propriety  of  the 
change.  The  foundries  of  Rhode- 
Island,  now  furnished  a  Greene ;  the 
tanneries  of  Pennsylvania,  a  Wayne ; 
and  the  wagoners  of  the  Allegba- 
nies,  a  Morgan,  to  lead  our  annies  to 
victory,  and  cover  themselves  vritfa 
lasting  fame. 

In  our  late  war  with  England,  the 
same  infatuation  again  existed^  and 
again  it  required  similar  misfortunes 
to  correct  it.  A  Baltimore  attorney 
was  selected  to  conduct  our  scjdiers 
into  Canada ;  and  defeat  and  capture 
awaited  him.  The  safety  of  xjur  cap- 
itol  was  entrusted  too,  to  this  ill-starred 
profession,  and  in  the  person  again  of 
the  same  man.  The  smoking  nnos 
of  our  public  edifices,  while  it  reflected 
lasting  disgrace  on  our  Vandal  eneroy , 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MJSOBLLANBOUf. 


«77 


uUo  aflTorded  evkleiice  of  our  own  io- 
dbcretioD. 

A  hambKe  scbooUmaster  from  tlw 
banks  of  the  Delaware,  afterwards  more 
successfully  gaided  the  destinies  of  our 
country  at  Chippewa,  and  the  Fails  of 
the  Niagara.  And  the  bravery  and 
skill  of  Barney,  a  veteran  sailor,  at  the 
bead  of  oor  legions,  (if  existing  pre* 
judice  could  have  tolerated  the  pro^ 
motion^  might  have  saved  our  senate- 
bouse  from  the  ruthless  torch  of  an  in- 
cendiary foe. 

To  return  more  immedialdy  to  our 
fluls^ect.  It  may  be  demanded  m  what 
particular  concerns  of  life,  have  law- 
yers evinced  that  superiority  which 
they  have  assumed  with  such  charac- 
teristic effrontery!  Is  it  in  arts,  in 
arms,  or  in  science,  that  they  have 
gaineid  such  reputation?  With  all 
their  boasted  skill  in  ^  invention,"  did 
they  ever  produce  a  chronometer,  a 
compass,  a  quadrant,  or  even  (as  has 
ktely  been  admitted)  a  mouse  trap  ? 
What  mighty  warriors,  exclusive  of 
those  already  alluded  to,  have  they 
fombhed,  either  in  the  cause  of  Jiberty, 
or  of  despotism?  Shall  we  find  on 
their  ^^  rolls,^  the  name  of  Hannibal 
or  Scipio;  of  Washington  or  Greene; 
of  Napoleon  or  Soult  ?  Is  it  on  the 
architraves  of  the  Parthenon,  or  within 
the  walls  of  Notre  Dame  that  we  are 
to  seek  for  their  productions?  From 
the  days  of  Phidias,  to  the  time  of 
Canova ;  from  Apelles  to  sir  Joshua 
Reynolds,  can  th^  point  to  a  sii^le 
aaoBie  that  was  attachedto  their  own  mi- 
tcmity?  Or  will  a  re/erciice  to  the  ab- 
struse sciences,  aflford  a  more  ^liatter- 
ing  unction"  to  tbeir  vanity?  We  think 
not :  we  believe  they  have  yet  to  pro- 
duce their  Newton  and  Franklin,  their 
Laplace  and  La  Lande.  To  poetry, 
mey  have  bo  claim — ^The  Muses  have 
ever  frowned  on  a  profession  whose 
avowed  object  it  is,  to 
'*  Poor  the  sweet  milk  of  coneord  Into  hell, 
Uproar  the  imivefsal  peace,  and  confound 
jMI  unity  on  earth." 

Pope^  it  is  true,  once  regretted  that  sq 
<'  Sweat  an  Ovid,  was  in  a  Murray  lost  ;'* 


but  this  must  have  been  their  greatest 
approximation  to  excellence,  and  they 
have  since  (with  a  modesty  rather  un- 
usual to  them)  been  content  to  admire, 
rather  than  compete,  with  the  Sbaks- 
peares  and  Miltons  who  have  illumi- 
ned the  lito^ry  world. 

As  it  must  be  admitted  that  they 
have  been  peculiarly  unfortunate  on 
this  ^^ mundane  sphere;"  in,  or  on 
what  element  h  it,  (we  should  like  to 
be  informed)  that  they  have  exhibited 
their  mighty  prowess  ?  (bating  their 
valour  in  brow-beating  a  poor  witness 
in  a  cotirt  of  justice).  Was  it  with 
Montgolfier  or  Lunairdi,  in  the<?t>; 
with  Bushnel  and  Fulton,  under  water; 
with  captain  Symmes  and  Dr.  Mitch- 
ell, in  the  internal  regions  of  the  earth  ; 
or  wiih  Day  Francis,  in  a  barrel  of 
fire!!!! 


The  interesting  story  which  follows,  was 
written  by  a  gentleman  of  this  city,  and 
first  published  in  a  New-York  paper,  in  the 
autumn  of  1819.  Such  of  our  readers  as 
may  have  already  perused  it,  will  agree 
with  us  in  the  propriety  of  giving  it  a  more 
permanent  place,  than  can  be  afforded  by 
the  columns  of  a  daily  print. 

STORY  OF  MACHfWlTA,  AN  INDIAN 
CHIEF. 

1  cannot  close  this  letter  without  giv- 
ingthe  story  of  Machiwtta,ayoung  chief 
of  the  Ottawas,  who  canoe  on  board 
with  many  of  his  tribe  to  see  the gfeat 
canoe.  When  the  family  of  this  chief 
landed  on  the  beach,  they  had  attracted 
our  particular  attention.  Machiwita's 
father  and  uncle  were  chiefs  of  some  dis- 
tinction. Their  wigwam  was  comfort- 
able and  well  built;  their  clothing  and 
domestic  utensils  were  composed  of 
better  materials  than  the  generality  of 
their  nation.  The  father  was  a  man 
of  dignified  deportment  and  manners; 
the  mother  had  every  mark  and  trace 
of  having  once  been  beautiful;  and 
Machiwita's  younger  brothers  and  sis- 
ters were  truly  handsome  in  form  and 
feature.  He  himself  was  not  more 
than  twenty-one  years  ^f  agei;,his  ^^ 

Jigitized  by  V  -«  »<  Tf)ll-^  • 


STB 


JnsCSLLANKOUa* 


lire  was  somewhat  lifted  above  the  me- 
dium size  of  mankind ;  his  Dmibs  might 
have  formed  a  living  model  for  the 
yoimg  Apollo ;  his  nose  was  Grecian^ 
and  there  was  a  voluptooosaess  in  his 
eye,  blended  with  the  ease  and  softness 
of  his  features,  which  gave  him  more 
of  the  character  of  the  Asiatic  than 
Of  the  Roman.  In  his  dress,  he  mix- 
ed the  Grecian  with  the  Circassian ;  his 
leggins  and  mantle  were  of  blue  cloth, 
of  the  best  British  wool ;  his  vest  was 
decorated  with  his  name,  engraved  on 
a  silver  crescent.  The  sides  o(  his  face 
were  painted  with  the  most  delicate 
colours,  in  the  ifigure  of  a  beautiful 
^ell,  corresponding  to  the  expansion 
and  outline  of  his  cheek.  On  his  head 
he  wore  a  turban  of  the  finest  chints, 
that  gracefully  wound  round  his  fore- 
head, whilst  the  ends,  trimmed  with 
gold  and  entwined  with  his  hair,  hung 
in  careless  folds  on  his  manly  shoul- 
ders. 

You  see,  though  Machiwita  was  not 
a  dandy  of  the  first  blood,  yet  he  was 
an  adept  in  the  decorations  of  the  toi- 
let. All  the  respectable  inhabitants  of 
Mackinaw,  with  the  chiefs  of  various 
tribes^  were  invited  on  board  to  take  an 
exclusion  round  the  bland  and  the  Mi* 
ohigao  lake^  but  the  attractions  of  aU 
other  objects  was  lost  in  the  superior 
beauty  of  the  untutored  savage.  We 
kad  on  board  man  v  handsome  females, 
but  Mrs.  — *—  eclipsed  them  all,  and 
Machiwita's  heart  was  smitten :  for  the 
^rst  time  he  felt  the  force  of  white  wo- 
man's charms.  It  was  flattering  to 
woman's  vanity;  and  the  Princess  ^ 
the  Cavern  was  a  woman.  She  was 
determined  to  requite  his  love,  by  an 
eniMtm  of  affection.  She  took  a  ring 
fndm  her  finger,  and  with  her  fair  hand 
placed  it  on  the  chiefs.  I  will  not 
say  that  the  gentlemen  felt  mortified, 
or  that  tlie  ladies  experienced  any  cha- 

§rin,  in  witnessing  the  all  powerAit  in- 
ue^ce  of  beauty :  but  when  Machiwi- 
ta tamed  to  the  chiefs  of  his  nation  and 
expressed  his  happiness  in  his  native 
tongue,  they  laughed  with  him,  but  it 
was  the  grin  of  vexation  and  jealousy. 


Machiwita  was  told  by  the  interpreter, 
that  the  ring  was  a  token  of  afiectioa, 
and  that  he  must  keep*  it  forever,  as  a 
tender  recoUectiou  of  the  donor.  Oa 
understanding  this,  be  addressed  the 
lady  as  follows : 

^  Btaotifoi  stranger-^yon  have  giv- 
en to  Machiwita  a  ring,  winch,  he  la 
told,  is  the  emblem  of  love.  Yoor 
beauty,  like  the  wild  rose,  charnu  hb 
eye;  but  your  kindness  toeches  his 
heart ;  he  gives  his  heart  to  you ;  it  is 
yours  forever. 

^^  Machiwita  is  happy  in  this  won- 
derful canoe :-— it  burns  with  fire  fnMn 
the  sun ;  it  is  moved  by  the  great  fish- 
es of  the  deep,  and  the  spirit  of  Maai- 
tou  guides  it  through  the  lake ;  but  it 
is  not  this  that  makes  him  happy ;  it 
is  because  you  are  here,  and  be  can 
see  you  xmile,  and  hear  you  speak.    . 

^  Machiwita  would  leave  bis  mother 
and  sister,  his  wigwam,  and  his  canoe^ 
and  go  with  you  to  yoor  country,  to- 
ward tlie  rising  sun.  He  will  keep  the 
ring  you  have  given  him,  until  he  goes 
to  the  land  of  spirits:  nothing  will 
make  him  part  with  it :  yes,  there  is 
one  thing;  Machiwita  will  give  you 
back  the  ring ;  but  give  him  in  return^ 
what  akme  is  more  valuable-^ve  him 
yourself.'' 

Such  was  the  speech  of  the  chief,  as 
traaslatad  to  us  by  the  Indian  iateipre- 
ter,  before  a  numerous  company. 

But  -»—  was  dooaied  to  suffer  the 
pangs  of  sepAratioB.  The  signal  gaa 
gave  notice  for  the  caaoes  to  cona 
alongside,  and  take  the  inhabitanca 
and  Indians  ashore;  and  the  haadsoBM 
savi^  foigot  his  vows,  sprang  inlohis 
canoe,  and  hastened  to  join  his  fiunily. 

For  a  momeot,  I  confess,  I  was  seiz- 
ed witk  the  coatagioa  of  the  sohea 
feelings,  and  as  MachtwiU'shack  task 
iahed  from  our  sight,  I  eouid  net  hclfl 
exclaoning  to  myself;  Adieu  Machi- 
wita! we  shall  never  meet  agaia^— 
thy  form  and  face  have  convinced  as 
that  there  is  mixed  in  thy  naiarey  the 
courage  of  the  warrior,  mid  the  Maii- 
dishments  of  the  lover  I  The  peac»> 
ful  disposition  of  thv^natioa  has 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MBOmXANXOPt. 


«T? 


tliee  ia  die  moidd  of  pleasure ;  under 
other  csreuttsUttceft,  and  in  other  times, 
tkou  migbleit  have  been  the  Pontaic 
or  Teotmsefa  of  thy  tribe/  and  have 
led  a  nation  to  victory  or  death :  but 
alas ;  the  wisdom  of  the  one,  and  the 
daring  enterprise  of  the  other,  are  lost 
in  the  wilds  of  a  Lovelace^aud  the  in- 
constancy of  a  modem  Lothario. 


From  "  Etudes  de  la  nature,  par  M.  de  St. 
PieiTe." 

COFFEE-HOUSE  OF  SURAT. 

In  the  city  of  Surat  was  a  coffee- 
house, to  which  persons  of  various 
countries  resorted.  One  day  a  Per- 
sian Seider,  or  Doctor  of  the  Law,  en- 
tered the  room.  This  man  had  em- 
ployed his  whole  life  in  theological 
discussions,  andyet  believed  no  longer 
in  the  existence  of  a  Deity.  '^  What 
is  God  ?^'  said  be,  '^  whence  does  lie 
come  ?  from  whom  does  he  derive  his 
origin  ?  iu  wha^  part  of  the  universe 
do^  be  exist  ?  if  he  were  a  corporeal 
being,  we  should  see  him  ;  if  a  spiri- 
tual existence,  he  would  be  intelligent 
and  just,  and  would  not  permit  his  ra- 
tional creatures  to  be  unhappy*  I,  for 
instance,  after  having  been  so  much 
devoted  to  his  service,  should  have 
been  the  hi^  priest  at  Ispahan,  in- 
stead of  being  compelled  to  abandon 
Persia,  after  having  endeavoured  to 
enlighten  my  countrymen.  It  is  evi> 
dent  then,  that  there  is  no  God."-.— 
Thus  was  the  doctor  bewildered  hy 
his  ambition.  By  perpetually  reason- 
ing on  the  first  cause  of  all  things,  be 
hs^  at  last,  actually  lost  his  under- 
standing; insomuch,  that  he  took  it 
into  his  head,  that  it  was  not  his  own 
reason  of  whkh  he  was  deprived,  but 
.4hat  the  intelligence  by  which  the  uni- 
verse is  governed  no  longer  existed. 

This  doctor  had  a  slave,  a  CaflVe, 
almost  naked,  whom  he  left  at  the  door 
of  the  coffee-house.  He  himself  sat 
down  on  a  sola,  and  took  a  cup  of 
opium.  When  this  portion  had  be- 
^im  to-op«cate  on  his  brain,  he  thus 


addressed  hit  slave,  wlio  was  tiltiaf 
on  a  stone  in  the  iunshiae,  and  busy 
in  driving  away  the  flies  that  torment* 
ed  him :  '<  thou  wretched  Negro,  dost 
thou  believe  there  is  a  God  ?''  <<  Wh# 
can  doubt  it?''  answered  the  slave; 
and  instantly  taking  a  little  woodea 
monkey  from  the  ragged  piece  of  cot- 
ton that  covered  his  waist,  "  Here'' 
said  he,  ^  is  the  God  who  has  protect*- 
ed  me  ev^  since  I  was  bom.  It  jia 
made  of  a  branch  of  the  fetiche  tree^ 
that  grows  in  my  country.''  The  coia<- 
pany  in  the  coffee-room  were  not  less 
astonished  at  the  answer  of  the  slave, 
than  at  the  question  of  liis  oMster. 

^<  Thou  poor  idiot !"  said  a  BraaaiBy 
shruggmg  bis  shoulders,  ^<  What !  dost 
thou  carry  thy  God  in  thy  girdle  ? 
Know  that  there  is  no  odier  God  than 
Brama,  who  created  the  world,  and 
whose  temples  are  on  the  banks  of  the 
Ganges.  The  Bramins  only  are  hit 
prietts ;  and  it  is  by  bis  particular  pro- 
tection that  they  have  been  preserved 
120^000  years,  amid  all  the  revolu- 
tions in  India.'^  Here  be  was  intev^ 
rupted  by  a  Jewish  courtier,  who  ask- 
ed, ^*  How  can  the  Bramins  believe  tint 
God  has  no  temples  but  tn  India,  aad 
that  he  exists  for  their  cast  only  ?  Aane 
is  UQ  otber  God  thaniheGod^  Ahm- 
ham,  and  he  has  u&  people  bat  the 
people  of  Israel.  He  atiU  p^^senm 
them,  although  dispersed  over  tfae 
whole  earth ;  and  he  will  coatiope  tp 
preserve  them  till  that  happy  period, 
when  he  is  to  restore  Jei!iisalem  tp 
them,  give  them  dominioa  over  all  nft- 
Upns,  and  re-establish  their  teoipt^i 
once  the  wonder  of  the  world."  In 
leering  these  words,  the  Israeliie  shed 
soaie  tears.  He  was  proceeding,  when 
an  Italiao,  in  a  bhie  robe,  angrily  said, 
"  Yoirgive  a  very  injurious  represenft- 
ation  of  God,  ia  asaertiog  that  the  Is- 

•  Fetiche  is  a  Dame  given  ia  Aj&ica  to 
U*e  Divinitiesof  tba  country,  one  of  whom 
is  supposed  to  preside  over  a  whole  prov- 
ince, and  one  over  every  fiunlly.  This  idol 
is  oMde  of  a  particular  troe,  an  which  is 
earved  tbe  bead  of  an  ap««  a  bird,  or  any 
saeb  Ihing^as  iu^yjm^  ^m^st. 

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3S0 


MISGBLLAKKOUS. 


raelttes  only  are  the  objects  o(hk(9r 
vour.     He  rejected  them  seventeeu 
hundred  years  ago ;  which  is  evident 
from  their  present  dispersion.     Me 
BOW  invites  all  men  into  the  pale  of 
the  church  of  Rome^  out  of  which  there 
is  nosatvatiou.''    A  protestant  minis- 
ter,  of  the  Danish  mission  at  Tranque- 
bar,  changing  countenance,  here  ad- 
dressed the  Catholic  priest :  "  How 
can  you  thus  exclude  all  from  Salva- 
tion,  but  the  members  of  your  idola- 
trous communion?  Learu  that  none 
can  be  saved,  but  those  who,  as  the 
disciples  of  Jesus,  and  in  conformity 
to  his  gospel,  worship  God  in  spirit 
and  in  truth.''    Then  a  Turk,  a  cus- 
tom-house officer  at  Surat,  who  was 
smoking  hb  pipe,  said  to  the  two 
Christians,  with  a  very  grave  counte- 
nance, <«  Fathers,  why  do  you  confine 
the  knowledge  of  God  to  your  church- 
es ?  The  law  of  Jesus  has  been  abolish- 
ed ever  since  the  divine  mission  of  Ma- 
homet, the  comforter  foretold  by  that 
very  Jesus,  the  Word  of  God.    Your 
religion  exists  in  a  few  kingdoms  only : 
ours  has  been  erected  on  its  ruins  in 
the  finest  countries  of  Europe,  Africa, 
Asia,  and  the  Isles.    It  is  now  leated 
on  the  throne  of  the  Great  Mogul,  and 
has  penetrated  even  into  China,  that 
country  of  knowledge.   You  perceive, 
yoursdves,  the  reprobation  of  the  Jews 
in  their  present  humiliation:  behold 
the  mission  of  the  prophet  in  his  vic- 
tories.   None  can  be^«ived  but  the 
friends  of  Mahomet  and  Omar ;  for 
as  to  the  disciples  of  Alt,  they  are  in- 
fideb.'' 

At  these  words,  the  Seider,  who 
was  a  native  of  Persia^  where  the 
people  are  universally  of  the  sect  of 
Ali,  affected  to  smile.  But  thb  theo- 
logical conversation,  among  pefsonsof 
such  different  nations  and  religions, 
produced  a  great  quarrel,  for,  beside 
those  already  mentioned,  there  were 
Abyssinian  Christians,  Cophts,  Tar- 
tarian Lamas,  Arabian  Isnmaelites, 
and  Gu^bres  or  Worshippers  of  fire. 
These  were  all  dbputing  on  the  nature 
of  God,and  of  the  worship  due  to  hiis ; 


each  insistii^  that  the  only  tnie  rrii- 
gioo  was  thai  of  his  own  coaatry. 

In  the  cofiee4t>om  was  a  learned 
Chinese, »  disciple  of  Confbdus,  who 
was  travelling  for  the  acquisition  of 
knowledge.     He  sat,  drinking  tea  in 
a  corner  of  the  room,  attending  in  si- 
lence to  the  dbpute.    The  Turkish 
custom-house  officer,  accosting  this 
Chinese  with  great  vehemence  ;  said, 
<<  My  good  silent  Chinese,  you  know 
that  many  religious  have  found  their 
way  into  China.     The  merchants  oC 
your  country,  who  have  had  occasion 
for  my  services,  have  in  fact  told  me 
so,  in  assuring  me,  that  of  all  these  re- 
ligions that  of  Mahomet  b  the  best. 
Be  as  ingenuous  and  just  as  they  have 
been.     What  is  your  opinion  of  God 
and  the  religion  of  our  prophet?"— 
There  was  now  an  universal  sUeoce. 
The  disciple  of  Confucius,  conceaHag 
hb  hands  in  hb  long  sleeves,  and  pla- 
cing them  cross-wise  on  his  brnst, 
paused  for  some  moments,  and  then 
addressed  the  company  in  a  mild,  and 
deliberate  voice:  "  Gentlemen,  if  you 
permit  me  to  speak  my  opinion  with 
frankness,  I  must  observe,  that  am- 
bition is  universally  the  cause  of  the 
disagreements  among  mankind.   I  will 
relate  an  instance  of  this,  which  b  still 
fresh  in  my  memory.     When  I  left 
China,  I  went  on  board  an  English 
ship,  which  had  been  roimd  the  world. 
In  our  voyage  to  thb  place,  we  canK 
to  anchor  on  the  eastern  coast  of  Su- 
matra.   At  noon,  having  landed  with 
many  of  the  crew,  we  sat  di^wn  under 
some  cocoa-trees  between  a  small  vil- 
lage and  the  sea  shore.      Under  the 
shade  of  these  trees,  many  p«rsoos,  of 
different  countries,  were  reposing.  To 
thb  spot  came  a  blind  man,  who  had 
lost  hb  sight  by  contemplating  the 
sun.  He  had  the  foolish  ambitieo  of  INK 
derstandiug  the  nature  of  that  great  k- 
minary,  with  the  selfish  view  of  appro- 
priating its  glorious  light  to  hiiaaelf. 

He  had  tried  all  the  methods  of  ofktics, 
'  chemistry,  and  even  of  magic,  in  or* 

der  to  enclose  one  of  its  rays  in  a  boir 

tie.    All  hb  efforts  being  unai 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


mscKLLABreovs. 


$81 


be  fravely  said,  ^*  The  light  of  the  ion 
U  not  a  fluid ;  for  rt  cannot  be  agitated 
by  the  wind.  Tt  is  not  a  solid ;  for  it 
is  impossible  to  separate  a  single  per* 
ticle  from  it.  It  consists  not  of  fire  ; 
Ibr  it  is  not  to  be  extinguished  in  water. 
It  IS  not  a  spirit ;  for  it  is  visible.  It 
b  iMt  a  body  ;  Ibr  it  cannot  be  felt. 
It  has  not  even  a  locomotive  power  ; 
for  it  (toes  not  agitate  the  lightest  bo- 
dies. It  IS  evidently  therefore  a  non- 
enrkyi'^  In  fine,  this  philosopher,  by 
ucessantly  contemplating  the  son,  and 
reasoning  opon  its  light,  had  lost  his 
eyes,  and,  what  is  worse,  hb  under- 
standing. He  imagined,  not  that  his 
sight  was  lost,  but  that  the  son  no 
loinger  existed.  His  conductor  was  a 
N^ro,  who,  having  seated  his  roaster 
BBder  a  cocoa-tree,  took  up  one  of  its 
Bots  from  the  ground,  and  began  to 
make  a  lamp  of  its  shell,  a  wick  of  its 
roogh  filaments,  and  to  extract  from 
Its  kernel  a  litde  oil  for  his  lamp. — 
While  the  Negro  wns  thus  employed, 
the  blind  man,  sighing,  said  to  him ; 
**  There  is  no  longer  then  any  light  in 
the  World  ?''  "  There  is  the  light  of  the 
sun,"'  answered  the  Negro.  "  What 
is  the  sun  ?''  replied  the  blirid  man. 
**  I  know  no  more  of  it,''  returned  the 
slave,  ^  than  that  its  rising  is  the  begin* 
mi^  of  my  labour,  and  its  setting  the 
end  of  it.  The  Kght  of  the  sun  is  of 
leis  consequence  to  me  than  that  of  my 
lannp,  which  enlightens  my  cottage, 
and  without  which  I  could  not  serve 

{on  in  the  night.''  Then  taking  up 
b  lamp,  <<  This,  said  he,  is  my  sun.'' 
At  tins  conversation,  one  of  the  villa- 
gers, who  walked  with  crotches,  b^n 
i»  laugh ;  and  supposing  that  the  blind 
nan  had  been  born  so,  he  said  to  him 
^  Know  that  the  sun  is  a  globe  of  fire, 
vhieh  rises  evety  day  in  the  sea,  and 
sets  each  evening  in  the  west,  in  the 
iBoontains  of  Sumatra.  Thbyou  would 
see  as  weU  as  all  of  us,  if  yon  had'  the 
enjoyment  of  sight."  A  fisherman 
then  said,  ^  It  b  very  evident  that  you 
iMve  never  been  out  of  your  village.  If 
you  bad  legs,  and  were  to  make  the 
tour  of  the  bland  of  Somatra,  you 


would^  find  that  the  sun  does  not  set  in 
these  mountains,  but  that  it  leaves  the 
sea  every  morning,  and  returns  to  it  in 
the  evening  to  refresh  itself.  I  con* 
stantly  see  this  myself,  on  whatever 
part  of  the  coast  I  may  be  fishing." 
An  inhabitant  of  the  Peninsula  of  In- 
dia then  said  to  the  fisherman,  ^  Is  it 
possible  that  iCny  man  indued  with 
common  s^nse,  can  imagine  the  sun  to 
be  ft  globe  of  fire,  that  it  leaves  the  sea 
every  morning  and  returns  in  the  eve- 
ning to  be  extingubhed  ?  You  are  to 
know  tiien,  that  the  sun  is  a  divinity 
of  my  country,*  who  traverses  the  heav- 
ens every  day  in  his  chariot,  making  a 
circuit  round  the  golden  mountain  of 
Merouwa;  and  when  he  is  eclipsed, 
he  is  swallowed  up  by  the  serpents 
Ragou  and  Ketouy  from  which  he  is 
delivered  by  the  prayers  of  the  Indi- 
ans on  the  banks  of  the  Ganges.  It 
is  a  very  ridiculous  pride  in  an  inhab- 
itant of  Sumatra,  to  suppose  that  the 
sun  shines  only  on  the  horizon  of  this 
bland.  Such  an  idea  could  never  en- 
ter into- the  head  of  a  man  who  had 
navigated  any  thing  larger  than  a  ca« 
noe."  A  Lascar,  the  master  of  a  coasts 
ing  vessel  then  at  anchor,  here  observ- 
ed, that  it  was  still  a  more  ridiculous 
pride  to  believe  that' the  sun  preferred 
India  to  every  other  country.  ^^  I  have 
made  several  voyages,"  he  continued, 
<'  in  the  Red  Sea,  on  the  coast  of  Ara- 
bia, to  Madagascar,  and  to  the  Moluc- 
ca and  Phillippine  Islands;  audi  know 
that  the  sun  illumines  all  these  counr 
tries  as  well  as  India.  He  nmkes  n» 
ctrcQit  round  a  mountain  ^  but  he  ri- 
ses in  the  isles  of  Japan,  which,  on 
that  account,  are  called  Jepon  or  Ge- 
pueriy  which  signifies  the  birth  of  the 
sun :  and  be  sets  far  to  the  west,  be- 
hind the  British  isles.  I  am  certain 
of  this ;  for  I  was  told  so,  when  a  boy, 
by  my  grand-father,  who  had  sailed 
to  the  very  extremities  of  the  ocean." 
He  was  proceeding,  when  one  of  our 
crew  ittterrupted  him:  "  There  is  not 
a  country,"  said  he,  "  in  which  the 
course  of  the  sun  is  better  known  than 
In  England.  ^  I  caa  inform  you  then, 

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MnGBUiAi<rcot;«. 


that  it  rises  nmi  sets  no  wb^re.  It 
coRstantly  makes  the  circuit  of  tbe 
earth.  I  am  very  certain  of  this ;  for 
we  are  just  returned  from  a iike  circuit 
'  round  tbe  globe,  and  we  met  tlie  sun 
every  where.''  Tbea  taking  a  stick 
from  one  of  his  auditors,  he  traced  a 
circle  on  the  sand,  and  eiideavoured  to 
show  the  course  of  the  sun  ffom  trop- 
ic to  tropic  ;  but  being  unable  to  ex- 
plain hiinadf,  he  appealed  to  the  pilot 
of  his  owa  ship  for  the  truth  of  his  as- 
sertion. This  pilot  was  a  sensible  roan, 
who  had  attended  in  silence  to  the  dis- 
pute ;  but  when  he  saw  that  the  whole 
company  were  attentively  waiting  for 
hb  opinion,  he  thus  addressed  them : 
<<  My  friends,  you  are  mutually  deceiv- 
ing each  other*  The  sun  does  not  turn 
round  the  earth,  on  the  contrary,  the 
earth  turns  round  the  sun,  present- 
i«g  to  it  every  twenty-four  hours,  the 
Isles  of  Japan,  the  Moluccas,  Sumatra, 
Africa,  Europe,  and  many,  other  coun- 
tries. U  does  not  shine  for  a  single 
mountain  only,  for  an  island,  a  horizon, 
an  ocean,  or  even  for  the  whole  earth ; 
but  it  is  in  the  centre  of  the  universe, 
whence  it  enlightens,  not  only  the  earth 
but  five  other  planets,  some  of  which 
are  much  larger  than  the  earth  itself, 
and  at  a  far  greater  distance  from  the 
sun.  Such  A>r  instance,  is  the  planet 
Saturn,  30,000  leagues  in  diameter, 
and  distaal  from  the  sun  28^  millions 
of  leagues ;  not  to  memion  their  at- 
tendant moons,  which  reflect  the  solar 
light  to  the  most  distant  planets.  You 
would  each  have  an  idea  of  these  sub- 
lime truths,  were  you  to  take  a  noctur- 
nal view  of  the  heavens ;  and  if  you 
did  not  foster  the  silly  pride  ofbeliev- 
iQg,  that  the  sun  was  made  for  a  sin- 
gle country  only.''  llius  spok^,  to 
the  great  astonishment  of  his  auditors, 
the  pilot  who  had  made  a  voyage  round 
the  world,  and  attentively  observed 
the  heaveas. 

<'  It  is  the  same,''  added  the  disci- 
ple of  Confucius,  '^  with  God  as  with 
the  sun.  Every  man  believes  that  he 
exclusively  possesses  the  Deity,  in  hi» 
own  chapel^  or,  at  least  iu  b^  own 


country.  All  cations  imagine,  thai  ia 
their  respective  temples,  they  eudoae 
that  glorious  Being  whom  the  visibk 
universe  cannot  contain.  But  is  tlivre 
a  temple  comparable  to  thai  which 
God  himself  hath  erected,  to  collect 
all  men,  as  it  were,  in  one  comimisiafi? 
Ail  tbe  tem|)les  of  tiie  earth  are  but  im- 
itatioas  of  the  universal  temple  of  »«» 
ture.  In  tlie  greatest  part  of  thena  we 
find  places  for  absolution,  a»d  vm^^ 
of  holy  water,  columns,  cupolas,  lamps^ 
statues,  inscriptions,  boolcs  of  the  Isrw, 
sacrifices,  altars,  and  priests.  But  i«t 
what  temple  is  there  a  sacred  vessel 
so  capncious  as  tbe  sea,  which  is  not 
contained  in  a  shell  ?  culuaiDs  so  oobJe 
as  those  of  the  trees  of  the  liirest,  or  of 
th^  orchards  loaded  with  fruit  ?  A  €«- 
pola  so  sublime  as  tbe  firaumontt,  ac 
a  lamp  so  resplendent  as  the  sua  ? 
where  can  we  behold  statues  so  iote< 
resting  as  numbers  of  rattuiial  beings, 
who  mutually  love,  and  aid,  and  Md 
converse  with  each  other ;  Insrciptioiis 
more  intelligible,  or  more  devout  than 
the  bounties  of  nature  ?  A  book  of  the 
law  so  universal  as  the  love  of  Godl^ 
resulting  from  a  grateful  sense  of  Jii» 
goodness ;  or  as  the  love  of  our  feltow- 
creaturesy  so  intimately  connected  with 
our  own  welfare  ?  Sacrifices  more  aA 
fecting  thau  hymns  of  praise  to  the 
Universal  Parent  and  Benefactor  of 
all;  or  than  tbe  tender  sensations 
with  which  we  regard  those,  with 
whom  it  is  our  duty  to  participate  la 
all  the  blessings  of  existence  ?  In  a 
word,  an  altar  so  sacred  as  the  iieart 
of  the  good  man,  of  which  God  him- 
self is  the  priest  ?  Thus  the  aMire  ex- 
alted the  ideas  which  man  entertnia* 
of  the  omnipotence  of  God,  the  better 
will  he  become  acquainted  with  hi«» ; 
and  the  greater  the  degree  of  indi^ 
gence  with  which  he  treats  hia  breth- 
ren of  mankind,  the  more  will  he  imi- 
tate his  goodness.  Let  not  him  f  bea 
who  en|c^s  the  tight  of  the  Deii^r  dil^ 
fiised  throughottl  the  universe^  deapiae 
tbe  superstitious  man,  who  perceiyea 
only  a  small  ray  of  it  in  ao  iUol,  ikm: 
even  the  atheist  who  is  taulljr  defNii- 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MI«C£LLANB0U3. 


SM 


Vfed  of  It ;  l«st,  94  a  ptiuishmrnt  of  kis 
prtde,  be  meet  with  the  fate  of  this 
philosopher,  who  mshlag  to  engross 
to  bimsiilf  the  light  of  the  sun,  became 
bHad,  and  was  reduced  to  submit  to 
tbe  guidance  of  a  poor  Negro  and  his 
koip." 

Thus  spoke  the  disciple  of  Coafu* 
GUIS ;  and  the  whole  company  in  the 
cofiet^ouse^  who  had  been  disputing 
on  the  excellence  of  their  respective 
neligtoBSy  now  mfised  in  silence  on 
vbai  bad  fallen  from  bis  lips. 


CURE  OF  TWO  PERSOaNS  PEAF  AND 
DUMB. 

The  "  Narrateur  de  la  Meiise,'?  a 
French  paper,  contains  the  following 
artide  or  cinre  of  two  deaf  and  dnmb 
persons,  wkojrecovered  their  bearing 
and  speech.  This  novel  and  success- 
ful operation  was  performed  by  a 
young  practitioner,  a  doctor  of  niedi- 
cioe^  of  the  faculty  of  Paris,  ex-sur- 
geon to  the  4th  regiment  of  Cuirassiers, 
esUbUsbed  at  Mibie,  (Mense.)  The 
two  deaf  and  dumb,  who  underwent 
Ihe  <^)erations  (whereby  ^e  perforated 
with  dexterity  and  success  the  meatus 
aeditoriHs)  are  Mademobelle  Biver  de 
St.  Mibtel,  aged  sixteen  years,  and  the 
Sietir  Toussaint,  son  of  the  asnstant 
m^iairate  of  Uans-sur-Meuse,  aged 
tweiny<^bt  yewrs. 

'  Tbe  young  girl  is  doing  extremely 
well.  It  is  more  than  a  month  since 
she  underwent  tbe  operalioii.  Her 
left  ear  is  entirely  healed,  and  the 
opening  made  to  the  tympanum  al- 
ways continues,  wbidt  is  aSsolutely 
necessary.  She  takes  notice  of  the 
least  sounds,  and  begins  to  articulate 
wt>rds  io  a  very  satisfactory  manner. 
Hfr  Tivaeity  pleases^  and  her  figure 
chaises  for  the  better.  She  is  inces- 
santiy  hamming  Kavioos  airs  which 
ber  aistera  leach  htr. 
"ft  The  yoaog  man  o£  Hana-sur-Meuse, 
#ho  was  operated  upon  a  short  time 
sHice,  hears  as  well  a»  bis  ceiarades, 
and  eves  noie  lively.  His  right  ear 
m  ioer  tbaft  bis  le^*^be  nalces  con* 


stant  efforts  to  pronounce  all  soils  of 
words.  Tbe  surgeon  from  whom  W6 
have  tl»e  particulars,  hopes  I^mI  hn 
tbi^  or  four  months  the  two  sul]^ecte 
will  speak  perfectly.  It  is  evidekH 
tliat,  they  must  be  instructed  like  cbH-' 
dren,  who  begin  to  make  tbe  first  ef- 
forts to  articulate. 

Mr.  Deleau  informs  us^  that  he  b 
constructing  an  instrument,  which  will 
a  (Turd  tlte  happy  facility  of  finishing 
the  operation^  in  three  minutes,  by 
which  its  success  will  be  more  certain. 
Hy  means  of  this  instrument  he  will 
raise  on  the  tympanic  membrane 
•eiH)ugh  of  substance  to  prevent  the  ne- 
cessity of  Jul  rod ucing  probes  into  ihe 
perforation  during  from  thirty  to  forty 
days.  He  is  of  opinion,  that  he*  can 
restore  the  hearing  of  all  those  who 
have  been  deprived  of  it  by  the  ob- 
struction of  the  eustachian  organ,  and 
by  the  obesity  of  the  membrane  of  tbe 
tympanum. 


PUZ2UNG  LAW  QOESTION. 

The  following  authentic  anecdote 
goes  far  to  disprove  the  declaration  of 
the  wise  man  of  old,  that  '<  there  is 
nothing  new  under  the  sun:''  The 
papers  of  Stockholm  relate  a  private 
transaction  wJiich  has  given  rise  to  a 
law  suit,  the  circumstances  of  which 
embarrass  the  most  celebrated  jurists. 
The  case  is  as  follows;  The  wife  of  a 
peasant  was  earried  off  by  a  natural 
death.  Tbe  widower  made  all  tbe 
arrangements  for  her  interment,  con* 
formably  to  the  established  usage  of 
tbe  country ;  but  he  put  into  the  coffin 
only  a  large  log,  and  carried  the  body 
of  tbe  defunct  into  a  wood,  where  he 
used  it  as  a  bait  for  catching  wolyes. 
He  at  last  succeeded  in  killisg  a  mon« 
stroos  wolf,  and  several  foxes,  on  tbe 
body  of  his  wife. 

The  civil  anthority.  coatideriog  his 
cottdoct  as  reprehensible,  commenced 
a  prosecution  against  biiii;  but  it  ap> 
peared  that  it  was  one  of  these  unfor^* 
seen  cases  not  provided  for  by  any  law* 
Tbe  questloa  to  be/ 

)igitized  by  V 


384  MtSCKLLAMBOITS. 

whetbct  this  new  kiod  of  hunter  sboirid 
be  pnnitbed,  or  whether  be  has  a  right 
to  the  bottn^  given  by  kiw  to  the  de- 
stroyers of  those  noxious  animals,  and 
which  is  paid  on  producing  the  feet  of 
the  wolf,  and  the  ears  of  the  fox. 

French  pf^er. 

NEW  MACHINE. 
A  new  invented  machine  for  pro- 
pelling a  vessel  in  a  calm,  at  sea,  was 
recently  tried  at  Boston,  on  board  the 
United  States'  frigate  Constitution,  in 
the  presence  of  a  number  of  officers  of 
the  navy.  Its  success  was  equal  to 
the  most  sanguine  expectations  of  the 
inventor,  and  tliose  who  were  witnes- 
ses qf  the  experiment.  Its  power  on 
the  frigate  was  sufficient,  in  the  opin- 
ion of  all  the  officers  present,  to  have 
propelled  her  at  the  rate  of  three  miles 
an  hour,  had  it  been  calm;  as  against 
a  fresh  southerly  wind,  a  flood  tide, 
and  a  chain  cable  astern,  it  consider- 
ably slackened  the  cable  by  which  she 
was  riding,  and  evidently  forced  the 
ship  ahead.  The  inventor,  (sailing- 
roaster  Briscoe  Doxey,  of  the  United 
States'  navy)  has  so  arranged  the  6a  ps- 
tain  and  messenger  to  this  machine, 
that  the  whole  disposable  force  of  the 
sWp  can  be  at  once  applied  to  it ;  and 
the  most  favourable  resnlts  are  confi- 
dently expected  from  its  Aiture  use. 


In  a  St.  John,  N.  B.  paper  of  the  Ist  Inst, 
received  by  the  schooner  Nancy,  we  And 
the  following  article,  taken  from  a  West- 
India  paper. 

BOA  CONSTRICTOR.  , 

Kingtitmy  St.  VmcerU,  March  17. 
A  most  singular  circumstance  oc- 
corred  last  we^,  in  the  Charaib  coun- 
try, when  some  n^oes,  who  were 
working  near  Sandy  Bay,  discovered 
an  immense  serpent,  hitherto  wholly 
unknown  as  existing  in  any  of  these 
islands,  and  which,  ther  attacking  the 
man  by  whom  it  was  first  discovered, 
and  alarming  several  others,  who  had 
gone  in  search  of  it,  was  finally  killed 
by  one  of  the  party,  who  shot  it  through 


the  head  with  a  musket,  which  he  had 
eharged  with  three  bull^''  1*^^'  moo- 
ster  is  supposed  to  have  been  a  species 
of  the  Boa,  so  common  on  the  netgh* 
bouring  continent,  and  was  found  to 
measure  1 3  feet  from  -the  bead  to  where 
a  kind  of  tail  appeared  formed^  whieli 
was  between  14  and  15  inches  5  the 
circumference  -o(  the  body  was  €mm 
three  to  four  feet.  When  first  disco- 
vered, it  lay  in  a  kind  of  coti,  bol,  m 
being  roused,  raised  its  body  erect,  and 
must  have  had  a  most  formidaUe  ap- 
pearance. An  attempt,  we  understand 
has  been  made  to  preserve  the  skin, 
which  we  hope  may  be  successfiil  5  and 
we  shall  jendeavour  to  procure  come 
further  particulars  of  this  singnUr  ani- 
mal, from  our  friends  in  the  windwaMl 
country  for  our  next  publicatioo.*- 
When  it  came,  or  how  conveyed  hith- 
er, is,  of  course,  only  matter  of  cob^- 
tore. 

Mofth  2fC 

The  appearance  of  a  large  snake, 
in  the  northern  part  of  this  ishrod,  bn- 
ving  excited  much  conversation,  «ul 
public  curiosity  not  being  sadsfieti  widi 
the  accounts  given  of  that  amoml,  1 
have  requested  the  intelligem  gend&- 
men  who  saw  it,  to  give  an  accorate 
description  of  it,  in  order  that  we  might 
assign  its  place  in  the  scale  of  anlnali, 
and  so  remove  the  anxiety  that  always 
attends  a  phenomenon,  wbich  is  either 
new,  or  of  a  doubtful  nature.  Those 
gentlemen  have  not  only  done  thia,  bat 
have  politely  presented  me  with  soeh 
parts  of  the  creature  as  have  escaped 
the  rage  of  those  who  killed  it,  or  the 
negligeolN  Of  those  employed  to  pre- 
serve iu  exuviae.  The  result  of  my 
inquiry  I  send  you  for  your  jomoak 

The  serpent  killed  kt  Sandv  Bigry 
on  the  6th  inst.  is  a  spedes  of  the  Imi 
of  Cuvier,  who  places  the  genus  in  the 
second  tribe  of  the  second  fssoSif^ 
the  order  Ophidians,  of  hn  daas  U 
reptiles,  Its*character,  deduced  fttm- 
the  order,  the  fenus  and  ^  specter  ll 
thefoUowing:  the  jaw  bone,  the  pshiie 
bones,  knd  the  oilier  IxMMa  it  Ae 
I  mouth,  are  attached, to  eacli  other  «id 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


M18CBLLANB0US. 


lo  the  cranium,  by  elastic  ligaments, 
which,  by  stretching,  allow  the  dilata- 
ble throat  to  receive  bodies  of  dimen* 
sioos  larger  than  the  mouth,  in  its  or- 
dinary or  quiescent  state.  Each  pp- 
per  and  lower  jaw  bone,  and  each 
palate  bone,  is  furnished  with  a  row  of 
sharp,  fixed,  unpierced  teeth,  curved 
backwards,  so  that  the  mouth  contains 
SIX  nearly  parallel  rows  of  teeth,  four 
above,  and  two  below.  'The  windpipe 
is  very  long,  and  there  is  bat  one  lung. 
The  tail  is  reprehensible,  and  has  at 
i^  root  two  homy  hooks  or  claws, 
aometbing  like  the  spurs  of  a  cock. 
Along  the  back  there  runs  a  broad 
chain,  formed  of  large,  irregular,  hex- 
agonal, blackish  spots,  alternately  with 
others  which  are  pale,  and  of  an  oval 
shape ;  scales  under  the  body  and  tail, 
single  and  traversal.  Such  is  the  Boa, 
as  described  by  Cuvier^  and  such  ex- 
actly is  the  description  of  the  animal 
found  at  Sandy  Bay.  It  was  fourteen 
feet  long;  and  Its  greatest  diameter, 
when  jejune,  was  seven  inches  :  when 
killed  it  was  gorged,  apparently  with 
a  kid  or  a  lamb. 

This  species  of  snake  is  very  com- 
mon in  the^uthern  continent  of  Ame- 
rica, where  it  sometimes  grows  to  the 
lea^h  of  30  or  40  feet,  and  is  a  formi- 
dable foe  to  sheep,  deer,  goats,  and 
(according  to  some  accounts)  even  to 
cattle.  Its  usual  haunt  is  the  bank  of 
a  river,  where,  clinging  by  the  tail  to 
the  bough  of  a  tree,  it  allows  its  euor* 
inous  bulk  to  float  lazily  on  the  sur- 
face of  the  stream,  or  coils  itself  up  in 
the  foliage  of  the  tree,  and  there  waits, 
ill  patient  ambush,  the  arrival  of  any 
unfortunate  animal  which  chance  or 
thirst  may  bring  that  way.  It  then 
darts  upon  it,  and  drags  it  to  its  tree, 
^circling  both  tree  and  animal  in  its 
toldSf  breaks  all  the  large  bones,  and 
reduces  the  carcase  to  a  soft  pulpy 
mass,  which  it  '^overs  with  slimy  sali- 
va;  it  then  strains  its  extensible  jaws 
mid  throat,  and  by  a  tedious  process 
transmits  the  whole  volume  to  its 
Stomach.  During  digestion,  which 
continues  many  days,  it  is  quite  torpid 
A  a  a 


and  defenceless,  and  becomes  an  easy 
prey  to  the  lord  of  the  creation. 

This,  then.  Sir,  is  the  animal  that 
has  been  among  us.  Is  it  indigenous, 
or  is  it  impoited  ?  Nothing  of  the  kind 
has  hitherto  been  seen  in  this  or  the 
neighbouring  island.  This  is  a  strong 
presumption  of  its  previous  non-exist- 
ence here.  Three  mouths  before  its 
discovery,  a  tree,  belonging  to  the  re- 
gion where  this  creature  is  known  to 
abouud,  was  driven  on  our  shores,  not 
200  yards  from  the  spot  where  it  was 
killed.  Tliis  is  a  presumption  that  it 
is  imported.  Shall  we  then  say,  that 
It  was  a  passenger  on  the  tree  ?  Shall 
we  imagine,  that  some  flood  of  the 
Oronoco  or  Essequibo  has  swept  tree 
and  snake  into  the  ocean  ?  and  that 
some  envious  southerly  gale  has  wa(l^ 
ed  them  to  the  shore  of  St.  Vincent  ?* 
It  is  possible  !  It  is  probable !  If  so, 
let  us  fervently  hope  that  tlie  receptidu 
which  he  has  met  with,  may  be  a 
warning  to  his  countrymen  to  stay  at 
home,  and  cease  to  disturb  the  repose 
of  this  peaceful  iblaiid. 

*  The  leniicth  of  the  way  is  not  an  im- 
portant objection.  The  slowness  of  di- 
gestion, a.nd  of  the  other  natural  functions, 
would  enable  it  to  sustain  a  voyage  of 
much  greater  length.  It  id  not  ampbibinus 
nor  venomous. 


AGRICULTURE. 

INDIAN  CORN. 

Much  damage  often  occurs  by  the 
i/?i>e  worm  J  and  other  small  worms, 
destroying  the  kernel  or  sprout  of 
corn  soon  after  it  is  planted ;  the  fol- 
lowing is  a  remedy:  At  the  time  of 
planting,  drop  in  each  hill  a  piece  of 
cob.  The  worms  will  work  in  this, 
and  not  touch  the  corn. 

From  a  North  Carolin*  paper. 

SEED  CORN. 

I  have  been  for  several  years  in  the 

practice  of  selecting  my  seed  corn  in 

the  field,  before  gathering  my  crop, 

from  such  stalks  as  bore  two  ears, 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


9«5 


HISTORICAL. 


takii^  those  of  the  best  appearance; 
which  I  tbiok  has  been  a  means  of  im- 
proving my  crop.  I  have  abomade 
another  experiment  on  seed  corn, 
which  is  very  simple.  I  broke  a  suf- 
ficient number  of  ears  of  com  in  two, 
to  make  setd  to  plant  two  certain 
pieces  of  f^ound^  both  pieces  of  the 
same  quantity,  and  prepared  in  the 
same  way.  I  planted  one  piece  with 
the  seed  from  the  butt  end  of  the  ear, 
the  other  from  the  top  end ;  both  pie- 
ces had  the  same  cultivation.  The 
piece  planted  ifith  seed  from  the  butt 
end,  poroduced  seven  bushels  per  acre 
more  than  that  planted  with  the  seed 
irom  ihe  top  end. 

N.  NEWLIN. 


HISTORICAL,^ 

BIOGRAPHT  OF  GENERAL  JACKSON. 

(Concluded  from  page  849.) 

The  prosecution  of  the  war  being 
attended  with  so  many  embarrass- 
ments, the  governor  of  Tennessee  re- 
commended general  Jackson  to  with- 
draw his  forces  from  the  eneiay's 
country  until  appearances  were  more 
fiivourable.  Without  hesitation^  he 
declined  following  the  advice,  and  with 
a  perseverance  which  suraiounted  eve- 
ry obstacle,  he  continued  to  hold  pos- 
session of  the  territory  which  he  had 
invaded*  His  army  at  times,  was 
augmented  by  the  arrival  of  reinforce- 
ments, and  as  frequently  diminished 
by  the  retirement  of  those,  whose  pe- 
riod of  service  had  expired.  At  length 
he  came  up  with  the  enemy,  whom  he 
defeated  in  two  several  battles,  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Emuckfaw  hills. — 
And  on  the  succeeding  day,  January 
28, 1814,  he  routed  them  in  a  sanguin- 
ary action  at  Enotichopco,  which  ter- 
minated the  campaign.  Early  in  the 
spring,  the  war  was  renewed,  and  after 
experiencing  the  same  difficulties,  of 
scarcity  of  supplies,  and  consequent 
sedition ;  he  finally  overtook  a  large 
body  of  Cr^ek  warriors  at  Tohopeka, 


where  they  were  sheltered  by  strong 
works,  and  in  an  jna^:^ble  position. 
An  obstinate  convict  cii^iied,  which 
terminated  in  their  almost  total  de- 
struction ;  four,  only,  of  their  number, 
consenting  to  surrender.  Five  hun- 
dred and  fif^y-seven  were  left  on  the 
ground,  and  a  greater  number  either 
perished,  or  had  been  thrown  in  the 
river.  The  hostile  Indians  now  dis- 
heartened, desired  a  peace;  and  in 
order  to  put  their  sincerity  at  once  to 
the  test,  general  Jackson  directed  them 
to  deliver  up  Weatherford,  the  chiel^ 
who  headed  the  savages,  at  the  stom^ 
ing  of  fort  Mimms. 

He,  hearing  of  the  demand  made 
of  his  nation,  voluntarily  entered  the 
camp,  and  presenting  himsdf  before 
the  American  commander,  told  him 
that  his  name  was  Weatherford,  and 
that  he  had  come  to  demand  peace  for 
himself  and  people.  General  Jackaopi 
astonished,  that  a  man  for  whom  he 
intended  the  severest  punishment, 
should,  without  compulsion,  venture 
to  appear  in  his  presence,  told  him  he 
was  at  a  loss  what  course  to  parsoe. 
The  chief  sternly  replied^  ^'  I  am  in 
your  power— do  with  me  as  you  please. 
I  am  a  soldier.  I  have  done  the  white 
people  all  the  harm  I  could ;  1  have 
fought  them,  and  fonght  them  bravely  : 
If  I  had  an  array,  I  would  yet  fight, 
and  contend  to  the  last;  but  I  have 
none;  my  people  are  all  gone.  I  can 
now  do  no  more  than  weep  over  the 
misfortunes  of  my  nation."  Pleased 
with  the  intrepidity  of  this  modem 
Coriolanus,  general  Jackson  informed 
him  that  the  terms  of  peace  had  alre«f> 
dy  been  disclosed,  but  if  he  wished  to 
continue  the  war,  he  was  at  perfect 
liberQrto  retire;  otherwise  he  m^t 
remain  where  he  was,  and  should -be 
protected.  Weatherford  answered,  <' I 
may  be  well  addressed  in  this  lanraage 
now.  There  was  a  time  when  1  lamd 
a  choice,  and  would  have  answered 
you:  I  have  none  now— even  kqpe 
has  ended..  Once  I  could 
my  warriors  to  battle ;  but  I 
ammatethe  deadi    My  wairiensj 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


JBISTOBICAL. 


W 


no  longer  heac  my  voice;  th^r  bones 
are  at  Talladega,  Tultushatchee,  £u- 
mbckfawy  and  Tohopeka.  I  have 
not  surrendered  myself  tbouj^htlessly. 
Whilst  there  were  chances  of  success, 
I  never  left  my  post,  nor  supplicated 

riace.  But  my  people  are  gone,  and 
now  ask  it  for  my  nation,  and  for 
myself.  On  the  miseries  and  misfor- 
tunes brought  upon  my  country,  I 
look  back  with  the  deepest  sorrow, 
and  wish  to  avert  still  greater  calami- 
ties. If  I  had  been  left  to  contend 
with  the  Geoi^ia  army  [alone],  I 
would  have  raised  my  corn  on  one 
bank  of  the  river,  and  fought  them  on 
the  other;  but  your  people  have  de- 
stroyed my  nation,  i  ou  are  a  brave 
man:  I  rely  upon  your  generosity.'' 
The  terms  having  been  acceded  to  by 
the  Creeks,  Weatherford  returned  to 
bis^  people,  and  general  Jackson^  hav- 
ing disbanded  his  forces,  returned  to 
Nnhville,  after  an  absence  of  eight 
months. 

General  Jackson  was  now  appoint- 
ed a  major-general  in  thie  service  of 
the  United  States,  and  shortly  after 
proceeded  to  Mobile.  The  Spanish 
authorities  in  Florida,  had  ever  afford- 
ed refuge  and  protection  to  the  Creeks, 
and  as  uiese  were  now  extended  to  the 
British,  he  determined  to  take  pos9es- 
tkm  of  Pensacola.  Accordingly,  on 
being  joined  by  a  brigade  of  mounted 
men  under  general  Coffee,  he  marched 
against  the  place,  which  fell  into  his 
power,  after  a  trifling  resistance. 

The  mavemente  of  the  British  na- 
val force,  now  indicated  an  intention 
of  invading  some  part  of  our  southern 
border,  ao^  general  Jachson,  leaving 
the  Alabama  country,  proceeded  to 
New  Orleans,  where  ne  arrived  on  the 
Isf  of  l>ecember,  1814.  He  immedi« 
alely  commenced  the  most  active  pre- 
parations for  the  defence  of  that  city. 
Id  a  few  days  after  his  arrival,  infor- 
■Bfttion  was  received  that  .the  gun- 
boats on  lake  B^rgae,  had  been  over- 
|iowered  eoid  taken  by  the  barges  of 
tbe  Britkh  squadron*  It  was  now 
evident  that  New  Orleans,  was  tfm  H 


object  which  the  enetny  had  in  view; 
and  general  Jackson  immediately  oi^ 
dered  the  brigade  of  Coffee,  which  oc- 
cupied a  central  position,  to  advance 
without  delay.  In  his  communica- 
tion to  that  officer,  he  observed,  ^^  Yon 
must  not  sleep  until  you  arpive  within 
striking  distance :  your  accustomed 
activity  is  looked  for."  Nor  was  he 
disappointed ;  as  that  expeditious 
commander,  leaving  behind  such  as 
could  not  be  mounted,  reached  the 
city  on  the  evening  of  the  second  day, 
after  a  forced  march  of  nearly  twQr 
hundred  miles ;  and  a  few  hours  after- ' 
waids,  the  division  of  Tennessee  mili- 
tia under  major-general  Carroll,  which 
came  down  tbe  Mississippi  river,  also 
arrived.  On  the  third  diay,  subsequent 
to  the  arrival  of  these  forces,  the  Brit- 
ish army  effected  a  landing  about  sev- 
en miles  below  the  city.  Leaving 
Carroll's  division  in  the  rear,  Genend 
Jackson  marched  at  the  head  of  bis 
other  troops  to  meet  the  enemy.  He 
came  up  with  them  in  the  night,  and 
after  a  severe  conflict,  in  wmch  the 
contendiuff  armies  became  intermin- 
gled %y  the  darkness,  they  retired  to 
thei^  respective  camps. 

The  British  commander,  alarmed  at 
an  attack  so  violent  and  unexpectec^ 
remained  within  his  lines,  waiting  for 
the  debarkation  of  the  remainder  of  hif 
forces,  and  general  Jackson  retired  to 
within  abput  four  miles  of  the  etty. 
His  line  extended  from  the  river  to  an 
impassable  cypress  swamp  on  his  left  ^ 
and  aloi^  the  front  ran  one  of  the  old 
canals,  or  <^  big  ditches,"  with  which 
this  prairie  country  had  been  intersect* 
ed.  This  canal  was  now  4ieepened 
and  widened,  and  a  strong  mud  wall 
formed  of  the  earth  that  had  been 
originally  thrown  out.  To  prevent 
any  approach  until  his  system  of  de- 
fence should  be  in  a  state  of  greater 
forwardness,  general  Jackson  ordered 
^  levee  (or  raised  bank  of  tbe  river) 
to  be  cut,  and  the  Mississippi  being 
then  very  high,  the  whole  plain  in 
front  of  his  worics  was  inundated  to 
the  depth  of  thirty  ef/forQriuches.   In 

*  digitized  by  VjCJO)- 


sss 


HISTORICAL. 


this  state  both  armies  remained,  with 
the  exception  of  several  bombard- 
ments, and  some  indecisive  attacks, 
until  the  8th  of  January,  1815.  The 
position  of  the  American  forces  on 
that  memorable  day,  was  as  follows : 
on  the  right  bank  of  the  Mississippi 
were  stationed  a  brigade  of  Kentucky 
militia,  commanded  by  general  Mor- 
gan, and  the  sailors  of  the  flotilla, 
(which  had  been  dismantled  or  des- 
troyed) under  commodore  Patterson. 
On  the  left  bank,  the  regular  troops 
.  were  on  the  right ;  Carroll's  division  of 
Tennessee  militia,  in  the  centre ;  and 
the  brigade  of  general  Coflee,  (now 
dismounted)  on  the  left,  and  extending 
far  into  the  swamp.  The  artillery 
was  placed  at  intervals  in  the  works ; 
and  in  the  rear  of  the  whole  were  sta- 
tioned a  few  dragoons,  and  the  division 
of  Kentucky  militia,  under  general 
Adair.  As  the  day  dawned,  the  sig- 
nals intended  to  produce  concert  in 
the  enemy's  movements  were  discov- 
ered. On  the  left,  near  the  swamp,  a 
sky-rocket  was  perceived  rising  in  the 
air,  and  presently  another  ascended 
from  the  right,  next  the  river.  They 
announced  to  each  other  that  all  was 
prepared  and  ready  to  proceed  and 
carry  by  storm  a  defence,  ivhich  had 
twice  foiled  their  eflbrts.  Instantly 
the  charge  was  made,  and  with  such 
rapidity,  that  our  picquet  guards  with 
difficulty  reached  the  works.  The 
British  batteries,  which  had  been  de- 
molished, were  re-established  during 
the  precedmg  night,  and  heavy  pieces 
of  cannon  mounted,  to  aid  ia  their  in- 
tended operations.  These  now  open- 
ed, and  showers  of  bombs  and  balls 
were  poured  upon  the  American  lines, 
while  the  air  was  lighted  with  their 
congreve  rockets.  Tne  two  divisions, 
commanded  by  Sir  Edward  Facken- 
ham  in  person,  and  supported  by  gen- 
erals Keane  and  Gibbs,  pressed  for- 
ward, the  right  against  the  centre  of 
general  Carroll's  command,  the  left 
against  the  redoubt  on  the  bank  of  the 
river.  A  thick  fog  that  obscured  the 
morning,  enabled  them  to  approach 


within  a  short  distanK;  of  the  entrench- 
ments, before  th*>y  'Were  discovered* 
They  were  now  perctivM  advancing 
with  firm,  quick,  and  steady  pace,  in 
column,  with  a  front  of  sixty  ^Jfs^^en- 
ty  deep.  Our  troops,  who '-had  for 
some  time  been  in  readiness,  and  wail- 
ing their  ap|>earance,  gave  three 
cheers,  and  instnndy  the  whole  line 
was  lighted  with  the  blaze  of  their 
fire.  A  burst  of  artillery  and  smail 
arms  poured  whh  destmclive  aim 
upon  them,  mowed  down  their  front, 
and  arrested  their  advance,  fn  oor 
musketry,  there  was  not  a  moment's 
intermission  ;  as  one  party  discharged 
their  pieces,  another  succeeded  :  alie^ 
nately  loading  and  appearing,  and  n« 
pause  being  perceptible,  rendered  it  like 
one  continued  volley.  The  enemy,  dis- 
mayed by  a  resistance  so  powerfal, 
fled  in  confusion  to  their  works.  Here 
they  were  rallied,  and  by  the  perseve- 
rance of  their  officers  were  again  urged 
to  advance  against  our  entrenchments^ 
but  the  fatal  aim  of  our  musketry 
mowed  down  the  front  of  their  col- 
umns, till  satisfied  that  their  attempts 
were  hopeless,  they  gave  up  the  con- 
test, and  fled  in  disorder.  Their  left 
column,  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  were 
at  first  more  successful,  and  ofaiiained 
a  momentary  possession  of  the  redoubt 
in  front  ofthelines,  but  were  eventual- 
ly driveir  out  w  ith  great  slaughter. 

On  the  right  bank  of  the  river  the 
enemy  succeeded  in  turning  the  flank 
of  general  Morgan's  line,  and  compel- 
ling him  to  retire ;  but  hearing  df  the 
total  overthrow  of  their  main  body, 
they  recrossed  the  river,  and  retreated 
to  their  works.  The  loss  of  the  con- 
flicting forces  in  this  place  was  trivial 
on  either  side  ;  but  on  the  left  bank, 
the  British  loss  was  immense,  amount- 
ing to  two  thousand  six  hundred,  kil- 
led and  wounded ;  including  in  the 
former  the  commander-in-chief  and 
general  Gibbs,  and  among  the  latter 
general  Keane.  On  the  American  side 
no  officer  fell,  and  only  thirteen  roeo 
were  killed  or  wounded.  The  rela- 
tive force  of  die  combataats  was,  otr 


HISTOBICAL. 


m 


►    ilip  side  oTi|}i^..%^Jsh  twelve  thou- 
saiuJ  regu]ArS),iO^Sil^  pQ  the  American 
le^jhan  (^mt  ^bv^isaod  railitia.     The 
comjip^ill^M^t^lie  latter  is  also  wor- 
tiiy  «4}>  qiinsideration.     The    greater 
proporiidny  it  is  true,  consisted  of  the 
hardy  yeomanry  of  Kentucky    and 
Tenaessee,  but  to  these  were  united 
various  corps,  of  opposite  feelings  and 
contrary  habits.    Orleans  poured  forth 
her  merchants  and  sailors,  and  the 
adjacent  settlements  their  planters. — 
The  "  black  spirits  and  grey^^  of  the 
cotton  fields,  fought  side  by  side,  with 
the  outlaws  of  Barrataria:   and,  to 
give  as  it  were  a  romantic  colouring 
to  the  whole,  the  few  dispersed  follow- 
ers of  the  unfortunate  Napoleon  here 
rallied  under  the  banners  of  Humbert, 
the  invader  gf  Ireland. 

Of  such  an  astonishing  disparity  of 
loss,  as  occurred  in  this  battle,  we  are 
not  **  full  of  modem  instances  ;"  and 
the  few  examples  of  ancient  times 
wen*  deemed  incredible,  until  their 
possibility  was  here  established.  On 
this  giorieus  occasion  general  Jacksonj 
la  the  language  of  the  victorious  mon- 
arch at  Agincourt,  migh|  proudly  ask, 


-WliMi,  without  stratagem, 


Bat  in  plain  8hock,and  even  play  of  battle, 
Was  ever  ktiown  so  great  and  little  loss, 
Od  one  part,  and  on  the  oilier  ?" 

Hostilities  in  this  section  of  the 
tmioQ  being  now  virtually  concluded, 
and  a  ratification  of  the  treaty  of  peace 
toon  after  taking  place,  general  Jack- 
son disbanded  his  forces,  and retmned 
lo  his  liome  in  Nashville. 

In  about  two  years  afterwards,  the 
oatrages  committed  on  our  southern 
frontier  by  the  Seminole  Indians, 
broo^t  general  Jackson  again  into 
iW  Md.  The  enemy,  on  his  appear*^ 
•ncei  made  very  little  resistance,  but 
rithred  into  Florida,  whither  they  were 
Msued;  and  Pensacola,  which  af- 
WnM  them  refuge,  was  again  entered 
Igrthe  American  commander.  In  this 
l^ptdition  be  cnptured  a  couple  of 
bglfi^naeny  who,  by  their  own  ac- 
fcaoiritedgttent;  bad  been  actively  en* 


gaged  in  exciting  the  savages  to  the 
hostilities  which  they  had  commenced. 
These  men  were  tried  by  a  court  mar- 
tial, and  being  convicted,  they  were 
immediately  executed.  Whatever  dif- 
ference of  opinion *may  have  existed, 
as  to  the  informality  of  the  trial,  or 
the  summary  infliction  of  the  punish- 
ment, few,  we  believe,  will  deny  that 
a  measure  so  decisive,  will,  in  the  end, 
have  a  tendency  to  prevent  the  repeti^ 
lion  of  savage  outrages  i 

The  war  being  now  ended,  general 
Jackson  left  the  army  in  charge  of 
general  Gaines,  and  returned  home. 

Tn  the  early  part  of  the  year  1820, 
he  visited  the  city  of  Washington,  and 
afterwards  made  a  tour  through  the 
Atlantic  states,  as  far  as  West  Point. 

The  late  reduction  of  the'  army  hav- 
ing deprived  general  Jackson  of  his 
commission,  be  was  immediately  ap- 
pointed governor  of  the  newly  acqui- 
red territory  of  the  Floridas ;  a  coun- 
try that  had  already  twice  submitted 
to  his  victorious  legions;  and  which 
he  has  declared,  with  ^ve  thousand 
soldiers  he  could  defend  against  the  uni- 
ted powers  of  the  "  Holy  Alliance  I" 

In  the  fierson  of  general  Jackson  is 
perceived  nothing  of  the  robust  or  ele- 
gant. He  is  six  feet  and  an  inch 
hi<>h,  remarkably  straight  and  spare, 
and  weighs  not  more  than  a  hundred 
and  forty-five  pounds.  His  conform- 
ation appears  to  disqualify  him  for 
hardships ;  yet,  accustomed  to  It  from 
early  life,  few  are  capable  of  enduring 
fatigue  to  the  same  extent,  or  witli  less 
injury.  His  dark  blue  eyes,  with 
brows  arched  and  projecting,  possess 
a  marked  expression  ;  but  when,  from 
any  cause  excited,' they  sparkle  with 
peculiar  lustre  and  penetration.  In 
his  manners  he  is  pleasing,  in  his  ad- 
dress commanding  ;  while  his  coimte- 
nance,  marked  with  firmness  and  deci- 
sion, beams  with  a  strength  and  ihtelli- 
gence  that  strikes  at  first  sight.  In  his 
deportment  there  is  nothing  repulsive : 
easy,  arable,  and  familiar,  he  is  open 
and  accep»ibl^gi||ld#j  Influenced  by 


^gJO  HISTORICAL. 

the  belief  that  merit  should  constttute 
the  only  difference  in  men,  his  atten- 
tion is  equally  bestowed  pn    honest 
poverty,  as  on  titled  consequence.  No 
man,  however  inconsiderable  his  stand- 
ing, ever  approached  him  on  business, 
that  he  did  not  patiently  listen  to  his 
story,  and  afford  him  all  the  informa- 
tion \n  his  power.    His  moral  charac- 
ter is  without  reproach,  and  by  those 
who  know  him  most  intimately,  he  is 
most  esteemed.    Benevolence,  in  him, 
is  a  prominent  virtue,  that  never  pass- 
ed distress,  without  seeking  to  assist 
and    relieve.     He  is,  however,  not 
without  some  of  those  foibles  which 
are  generally  mingled  in  the  compo- 
sition of  man.    Vice  and  virtue  are 
often  found  in  the  same  bosom,  which, 
like  light  and  shade  in  a  picture,  re- 
flect each  other  in  brighter  contrast. 
Deriving  from  his  birth  a  temper  irri- 
table and  hasty,  it  has  had  the  effect 
to  create  enemies,  and   involve  him 
in  disputes,  which    have   sometimes 
brought  him  to  the  field  of  individual 
contest.    On  this  subject  he  has  been 
beard  to  remark,  that,  throughout  life, 
be  made  it  a  settled  rule  never  to  in- 
sqIt,or  wantonly  assail  the  feelings  of 
any.    When  he  entered  the  army,  it 
was  feared  by  many  that  he  would 
prove  too  rash  for  a  safe  commander  ; 
that  occasions  would  arise,  when  he 
would  suffer  his  judgment  to  be  estran- 
ged, through  the  improper  exercise  of 
feeling.     Events  have  proved  the  fal- 
lacy of  the  conjecture,  and  shown  that 
there  were  none  who  reasoned  more 
dispassionately  on  the  fitness  and  pro- 
priety of  measures ;  none  mpre  cau- 
tious when  caution  was  Necessary,  or 
more  adventurous  when  daring  efforts 
were  required.   Few  commanders  had 
ever  to  seek  for  order  amidst  a  higher 
state  of  confusion,  or  obtained  success 
through  more  pressing  difficulties. 

Th^  terms  of  our  publication  not  reqm- 
Hng  that  we  should  fiinibh  graphle  embel- 
Ibhments,  we  shall  refer  sacfa  of  our  read- 
ers as  are  desirous  of  viewing  an  excellent 
reaemblatice   of  the  distinguished   com- 


mander, to  the  portrait  by  Mr.  VandeTtytr, 
in  the  picture  gallery  of  the  City  Hall,  a^" 
New-York. 

FOK  TBS  MaSOKIC  RzGlSTEl^. 


AERIAL  VOYAGES 

OP  MR.  CHARLES   OtTILLX'    IN  TBK    VSttMD 
STATES. 

« -  ud«m 

Spemit  humunfugientt  perma,** 

Scorns  the  base  earth,  and  crowd  below ; 
And  with  a  soaring  wing  still  mounts  on 
high. 

<<  The  tales  of  antiquity,  the  poetic^ 
al  productions,  the  religious  tenets,  and 
even  the  histories,  of  most  nations, 
shew  that  to  acquire  the  art  of  flying, 
or  of  imitating  the  birds,  has  been  the 
earnest  desire,  and  has  exercised  the 
genius  of  mankind  in  every  age.  The 
winged  horses  of  the  sun,  Juno's  pea- 
cocks, Medea's  dragons,  the  flying  orap 
des,  and  innumerable  others,  are  in- 
stances of  this  observation;  but  au- 
thentic history  furnishes  very  scanty 
materials  concerning  any  real  success 
having  ever  attended  the  attempts  of 
this  sort.  The  flight  of  Abaris  roaad 
the  earth,  as  related  by  Diodorus  ol 
Sicily ;  the  oracle  of  the  famoiw  tem- 
ple of  Hierapolis,  which  raised  htnuelf 
into  the  air ;  the  fate  of  lemrai ;  and 
many  other  andent  stories  of  tbo  like 


uiaTo&icAi. 


591 


fort,  being,  according  to  the  judgment 
of  intelligent  person;,  either  entirely 
febuloos,  or  only  alluding  to  something 
quite  different  from  real  fiying,  do  not 
deserve  any  particular  narration  or  con- 
futation.'' ICavaUo  on  Aerostation.] 
For  the  inventive  genius  of  the  French 
nation,  it  was  reserved  to  eflect  that, 
which  for  centuri^  had  baffled  the  at- 
tempts of  the  world.  At  the  close  of 
the  American  war,  the  Montgolfiers, 
aAer  a  number  of  experiments,  suc- 
ceeded in  raising  a  balloon,  in  which 
Filatre  de  Rosier  made  the  first  ascen- 
sion that  ever  occurred.  Embolden- 
ed by  the  enterprise,  aerial  voyages 
beoame  frequent,  but  the  daring  aero- 
naot  who  first 

«<  Manhaird  thiem  the  way,*' 
was  by  the  conflagration  of  a  balloon 
precipitated  to  the  earth,  and  dashed 
to  pieces.  A  short  time  prior  to  his 
death,  he  had  ascended  at  Lyons  in  a 
balloon  which  contained  seven  per- 
sons. Among  the  number  were  sev- 
eral of  the  nobility,  and  Mr.  Claudius 
G.  Fontaine,  at  the  present  time  a  re- 
spectable merchant  in  New-York.^- 
His  participation  in  the  enterprise,  b 
thus  particularly  noticed  by  the  author 
we  have  already  mentioned. — ^^  A  very 
remarkable  instance  of  enthusiasm,  ra- 
ther than  courage,  happened  at  this  in- 
stant. The  machine  was  not  raised 
above  a  foot  or  two  from  the  ground, 
when  a  seventh  person,  one  Mr.  Fon- 
taine, jumped  into  the  gallery,  which 
occasioned  a  sudden  depression  of  the 
machine ;  but  by  increasing  the  fire  in 
the  erate,  the  whole  ascended  majes- 
tically, and  with  moderate  rapidity." 
Hitherto,  balloons  had  been  filled 
with  rarefied  air,  produced  by  the 
combustion  of  wool  and  chopped  straw. 
The  eetoani  of  Paris,  however,  soon 
introduced  a  new  mode  of  inflation, 
by  infiammabk  air,  (or  hydrogen  gas) 
made  frooi  the  mixture  of  iron  filings 
with  dihit^  vitriolic  acicif  Py  tins 
method,  the  eipence  b  very  material- 
ly incr^oed,  but  as  it  b  attended  with 
far  less  danger,  U  b  now  almost  uni^ 
i(«nally  adopted. 


Then^  for  aerial  excursions  con- 
tinued in  Europe  for  many  years,  in 
which  time  several  hundred  ascensions 
took  place,  and  with  the  exception  of 
the  instance  alluded  to,  without  any 
disastrous  consequences.  In  the  early 
part  of  the  French  Revolution,  this, 
with  many  other  results  of  science, 
was  with  the  characteristic  Ingenuity 
of  the  nation,  rendered  subservient  to 
the  cause  of  the  republic ;  and  Guyton 
Morveau,  in  a  balloon,  indicated  by 
signals,  and  with  successful  efi*ect,  the 
movements  of  the  hostile  forces  on  the 
plains  of  Fleurus. 

In  the  United  States,  the  first  aero- 
static enterprise  ever  undertaken,  was 
by  Blanchard,  a  celebrated  aeronaut 
from  France.  His  ascension  was  made 
at  Philadelphia,  during  the  adminis- 
tration of  President  Washington,  who 
honoured  him  with  a  certificate  to  that 
efiect.  Attempts  were  afterwards  fre- 
<quently  made  in  some  of  the  cities  in 
this  country,  but  in  no  instance  were 
they  attended  with  success. 

It  was  the  widow  of  the  aeronaut 
just  mentioned,  who  met  with  so  tra- 
gical a  fate  at  Paris,  in  the  year  1819- 
The  life  of  this  intrepid  female,  affords 
another  instance  of  that  innate  resolu- 
tion of  the  sex ;  which  though  not  fre- 
quently developed,  is,  as  in  the  casea 
of  Joan  of  Arc,  and  Margaret  of  An- 
jou,  rarely  found  to  be  wanting,  when 
demanded  by  the  exigencies  to  which 
they  are  at  times  liable. 

Madame  Blanchard  had  made  more 
than  fifty  ascensions.  In  the  last,  she 
ascended  in  the  evening,  from  one  of 
the  public  gardens ;  and  as  if  the  bal- 
loon itself  was  not  already  sufficiently 
hazardous,  numerous  fire- works  were 
attached  to  the  car.  On  reaching  a 
suitable  elevation,  the  train  was  fiied. 
For  a  little  time,  the  whde  aflbrded  a 
magnificent  and  brilliant  spectacle; 
but  the  sparks  at  length  reaching  the 
balloon,  it  caught  fire,  and  dreadful  to 
relate,  the  unfoi^tunate  lady  was  pre- 
cipitated to  the  earth ! 

In  the  mean  time  a  descent  by  the 
parachute  had  been  introduced.    Ma- 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


392 


niSTOEICAL* 


oy  ezperhnents  had  already  been  made 
by  forraer  aeronauts,  with  different  an- 
imals,  which  had  reached  the  ground 
in  safety;  when  Mr.  Garnrrin  at  length 
had  the  resolution  to  trust  himself  to 
the  same  conveyance,  and  met  with 
like  success.  He  afterwards  went  over 
to  London,  where  (in  1802)  he  refieat- 
ed  the  experiment ;  but  the  extraordi- 
nary hazard  to  which  he  was  exposed 
during  the  descent,  and  the  severe 
shock  that  he  received  on  coming  to 
the  earth,  prevented  a  farther  recur- 
rence to  this  novel  and  terrific  mode. 

In  the  summer  of  the  year  1819, 
Mr.  Charles  (»uili^,  arrived  in  New- 
York,  with  a  ballo(»n  and  parachute, 
from  Bordeaux.  lie  had  made  many 
ascensions  iu  France,  and  had  been 
entrusted  by  the  emperor  Napoleon 
with  the  arrangement  of  an  aerostatic 
enterprise  that  was  to  have  been  un- 
dertaken for  the  purpose  of  throwing 
down  rockets  on  the  magazines  and 
store  houses  of  the  English  at  Anvers, 
but  which  was  abandoned  in  conse- 
quence of  the  entrance  of  the  allied 
armies  into  France, 

His  balloon,  when  inflated,  was  of 
an  oval  form,  and  its  height,  or  length, 
about  forty  feet.  The  parachute,  ex- 
panded, resembled  a  large  umbrella, 
whose  diameter  or  chord  was  nearly 
sixty  feet. 

FIRST   ASCENStON. 

The  necessary  preparations  being 
completed,  Mr.  Guill^  gave  notice 
that  the  ascension  would  take  place  at 
the  Vaxhaull  garden,  on  the  2d  of 
August,  1819.    The  concourse  of  peo- 

?le  on  the  occasion  was  immense, 
ew,  indeed,  entered  the  enclosure, 
but  in  the  surrounding  places,  multi- 
tudes were 

"  Clambering  the  walls  to  eye  him :  stall^ 

bulks,  windows, 
Smother'd  up,  V  leads    filled,   and  ridges 

horsed 
With  variable  complexions,  all  agreeing 
In  earnestness  to  see  him." 

About  six  o^clock  in  the  afternoon, 
the  balloon  being  sufficiently  filled, 


Mr.  Guilld  entered  the  car,  and  tlie 
ropes  being  cast  loose,  he  mounted 
rapidly  into  the  air:  at  the  same  mo- 
ment there  was  a  tremendous  gust  of 
wind,  which  carried  the  balloon  into  a 
row  of  tall  poplar  trees  that  were  in 
tlie  garden,  but  it  fortunately  forced 
its  way  through  the  branches  without 
receiving  any  material  injury.  is 
about  six  minutes  he  had  attained  a 
height  of  liiore  than  two  thousand 
yards,  and  was  then  nearly  over  the 
village  of  Williarasburgby  on  Long- 
Island.       . 

'I'he  sublimity  of  the  scene  tran- 
scended description  ;  and  the  ^En- 
chanted horse''  of  the  Arabian  tales, 
the  most  improbable  supposition  of  a 
lively  imagination,  was  now  more  than 
realized  in  the  grandeur  and  boldness 
of  this  unparallelled  enterprize.  Ou 
the  earth  a  tornado  whirled  columns  of 
dust  hi**}}  into  the  air,  while  in  the  up- 
per regions  was  suspended  a  human 
being,  on  whom  was  concentred  the 
ryes  of  an  hinidred  thousand  people. 
At  this  interesting  crisis  he  was  rapid- 
ly approximating  a  dark  and  terrific 
cloud,  when  he  severed  the  cord  which 
attached  him  to  the  balloon.  Instan- 
taneously the  parachute,  <<  the  mis- 
tress of  his  destiny,"  and  the  car  were 
precipitated,  with  accelerated  veloci- 
ty, towards  the  earth  I  A  murmuring 
ejaculation  of  horror  continued  till  it 
had  opened.  It  had  remained  closed 
for  about  three  seconds,  in  which  time 
it  descended  more  than  an  hundred 
yards ;  and  its  expansion  was  liardly 
observed  with  more  satisfaction  by 
him  whose  life  hung  on  the  event,  than 
by  the  multitudes  who  witnessed  it. 

The  bal!o9n,  on  being  released 
from  its  appendages,  immediately  rose 
above  the  clouds  and  shortly  disap- 
peared ;  while  the  parachute,  with  its 
oscillating  car,  slowly  descended  to* 
wards  the  interior  of  Long-Islaod,  un- 
til it  was  hid  from  the  anxious  view  ai 
the  spectators,  by  the  forests  in  the  ex- 
treme verge  of  the  horizon. 

It  was  afterwards  ascertsuned  dmt 
th^  daring  aeronaut  bad  safely  reached 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


BISTO&rCAt. 


39S 


the  earthy  about  half  an  hour  after 
teaving  Vauxhall,  in  an  open  field,  on 
the  farm  of  Mr.  Jacob  Suydam,  near 
the  cross-roads  at  New  Bushwick,  six 
miles  from  the  pla^  of  his  ascension. 
He  returned  to  New- York  the  same 
cveningt  and  agreeably  to  appoint- 
ment, visited  the  circus,  where  he, was 
received  with  great  applause.  The 
balloon  was  found  early  the  next 
moruiqg,  floating  in  the  water  at  Oysr 
ter  Bay  South,  on  Long-Island,  about 
thirty  miles  from  the  city,  and  was 
brought  back  on  the  following  day. — 
Some  difficulty  afterwards  took  place 
between  Mr.  Guill^  and  the  two  other 
proprietors  who  came  with  him  from 
France,  which  terminated  in  their  car- 
rying off  the  balloon  to  Philadelphia, 
where  it  eventually  was  destroyed  by 
an  infuriated  mob. 

Having  procured  the  necessary  ma- 
teriab,  Mr.  GuiUe  was,  by  his  own  in- 
geoaity  and  professional  experience, 
soon  enabled  to  complete  a  new  and 
elegant  balloon.  It  was  of  a  globular 
form,  and  through  the  gratuitous  ser- 
vices of  those  distingpished  artists, 
IVIr.  Jarvis,  and  Mr.  (5bild,  it  was  or- 
namented with  appcopriate  decora- 
tions and  inscriptions.  The  intended 
ascension  however,  was  delayed  a  con- 
siderable period  in  consequence  of  the 
malignant  fever  which  at  that  time 
prevailed.  But  on  the  disappearance 
of  tbe  epidemic,  the  requisite  prepara- 
tions were  made,  and  the  day  on  which 
he  was  to  ascend,  publicly  announced. 
After  repeated  trials  on  the  aoth  and 
21st  October,  it  was  found  that  from 
Eome  cause  or  other,  the  balloon  was 
not  tofficiently  lifted  to  raise  the 
aeronaut  from  the  ground;  when  the 
mayor^  on  the  latter  day,  in  order  to 
divert  the  attention  of  the  crowd,  di- 
rected it  to  be  sent  off  without  him. 

It  rose(^pjdly  into  the  air,  and  in 
aboot  fiftengPDinutes  disappeared.  The 
gas  liavEng  gradually  escaped,  it  fell 
to  the  earth  the  same  evening,  at  Boz^ 
rab,  in  Connecticut ;  having  travelled 
a  distance  of  nearly  1  GO  miles,  in  a 
}ittle  more  than  two  hours.    Having 

B 


recovered  his  batfoon,  Mr.  Guill^  im- 
mediately determined  on  maldng  an- 
other attempt,  in  order  to  retrieve  his 
reputation  from  the  reflections  which 
bis  recent  failures  had  incurred. 

SBCOND  ASCENSION. 

A  beautiful  spot  was  selected  near 
the  school  house  at  Powles  Hook,  on 
the  western  shore  of  the  Hudson,  and 
early  in  the  morning  of  the  2Cflh  No- 
vember, 1819,  he  crossed  the  river, 
and  commenced  inflating  the  balloon. 
The  steam-boats  were  crowded  with 
passengers  during  the  whole  forenoon, 
and  by  12  o'clock  spveral  tliousand 
persons  were  on  the  ground.    At  that 
hour  Mr.  Guill^  entered  the  car,  which 
had  been  constructed  by  himself,  and 
is  now  depmited  in  the  American 
Moseum.     The  day  was  remarkably 
fine,  and  the  balloon  rose  majestically 
in  the  air,  inclining  in  its  course  a  lit- 
tle to  the  northward.    In  about  three 
minutes  it  had  attained  a  height  of 
twelve  hundred  feet,  when  he  severed 
the  cord.    He  fell  with  great  rapidity 
nearly  three-fourths  of  the  distancei 
and  was  within  four  hundred  feet  of  the 
earth  before  the  parachute  expanded. 
His  descent  was  then  gradual,  and  lie 
reached  the  ground  in  safety,  on  the 
border  of  the  adjacent  meadows,  some- 
thing less  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
from  the  place  0/  departure.    A  num- 
ber of  p^sons  who  had  already  ar- 
rived on  the  spot,  replaced  the  aero- 
naut in  his  car,  and  bore  him  along  on 
their  shoulders,  amid  the  loud  and 
continued  acclamations  of  the  specta- 
tors, tQ  the  enclosure  from  which  he 
had  a  few  minutes  before  ascended. 
It  was  then  discovered  that  Mr.  Guill^, 
owing  to  his  crowded  situation  in  the 
car,  had,  in  cutting  the  cord,  given 
himself  a  eonsiderable  wound  in  the 
thigh ;  which  afterwards  confined  him 
for  some  time  to  his  chamber.    The 
balloon  on  its  separation  from  the  pa-« 
rachute  ascended  into  a  diflerent  cur- 
reatofair,  and  passed  over  the  city; 
but  becoming  inverted  by  tlie  weight 
purposely  attached  toitstop;,  the  gas 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


994 


HISTORICAL* 


escaped  and  U  fell  to  the  earth  in  the 
course  of  the  afternoon^  a  few  miles 
from  Jamaica,  on  Long  Island. 

In  December  Mr.  Guill^  sailed  for 
Charleston,  but  not  deeming  it  ad- 
visable to  undertake  an  ascension,  un- 
less at  least  a  portion  of  the  ezpence 
was  secured,  he,  after  an  ineffectual 
attempt  to  obtain  subscriptions,  left 
the  place  and  sailed  for  Baltimore.  In 
that  city  be  did  not  receive  much 
greater  encouragement,  yet  he  pro- 
ceeded so  far  as  to  inflate  the  balloon, 
but  as  H  became  torn  by  the  violence 
of  the  wind,  ai^d  the  number  of  spec- 
tators who  had  contributed  to  the  ex- 
hibition being  snjall,  he  feh  himself 
justified  in  relinquishing  the  attempt. 

THIRD  ASCBKSION. 

Mr.  Gqill^  qow  proceeded  to  Phila- 
delphia ;  and  at  Camden,  opposite  that 
city,  t)ie  balloon  was  on  the  day  of 
ascension  let  off,  by  some  accident, 
before  he  took  his  place  in  the  car.  It 
was  recovered  again  in  a  few  days, 
and  after  several  postponements,  he  at 
length  succeeded  in  ascending  from 
the  Jersey  shore,  on  the  morning  of 
of  the  Ist  August,  1 8^0.  The  balloon 
was  carried  in  a  directiopiip  the  river, 
and  for  some  distance  pearly  over  it; 
until  it  descended  on  the  Burlington 
road,  about  fbur  miles  from  Camden. 
The  frequent  disappointments  that 
bad  taken  place,  had  discours^ed  ma- 
ny persons  from  crossing  the  river,  or 
indeed  troubling  themselves  with  the 
matter,  and  conseouently  but  a  smsdl 
portion  of  the  inhabitants  knew  any 
thing  of  tlie  ^cension  uqtil  it  w^is 
over. 

FOURTH  ASCENSION. 

Having,  by  this  enterprize,  in  some 
degree  recovered  the  good  opinion  of 
the  community,  Mr.  GuilU  gave  notice 
that  he  would  make  an  ascension  from 
the  Yauxhall  garden  in  Philadelphia, 
and  descend  by  the  parachute.  The 
ui^rtaking  was  delayed  however,  for 
nearly  two  OBonths,  hi  coose^ence  of 
the  yellow  fever.  Of  this  voyage,  Mr. 
GuHl^  has  hlmsdf  given  9,  [{articular 


detail,  which  together  wiA  the  prelim:* 
inary  remarks  of  the  "Aurora,"  wc 
shall  msert  at  length. 

THE  BALLOON. 
« Notwithstanding  that  the  atmos- 
phere was  cloudy  and  very  dispiritii^ 
on  Saturday,  Mr.  Guill^,  it  appears, 
to  avoid  the  wanton  imputations  of  n 
unnecessary  postponement,  actusl^ 
ascended,  in  a  most  interesdng  style 
from  Vauxliall,  a  few  minutes  after  the 
promised  hour.  It  appeared  as  he  as- 
cended, that  some  of  the  apparatus  of 
the  parachute  became  entangled,  so 
that  he  was  not  able  to  disei^ge  him- 
self as  had  been  proposed,  and  was 
carried  too  far  beyond  the  proper 
range  for  descent;  the  balloon  passed 
gently  to  the  northward  in  fuU  view  of 
thousands  of  spectators;  when  about 
two  miles  north  of  the  city,  a  heavy 
cloud  from  the  southward,  which  dis- 
charged rain,  passed  under  the  balloon, 
and  it  was  no  longer  seen  during  the 
evening.  The  following  certificate  ex- 
plains the  extent  of  the  tour.*' 

«  The  balloon  descended  on  the  farm  of 
George  Woolsey,  in  the  township  of  Hope- 
well, couhty  of  Htinlerdon,  about  eight 
miles  from  Trenton,  at  about  5  o*cloek, 
p.  M.    I  hereby  certify  [the  above]  lo  be  a 

fact.  RALPH  a.  SJUTB. 

Cktober  14, 1820." 


<<  The  place  is  about  forty  miles  (nm 
Philadelphia.  Mr.  Guill^,  with  hit 
balloon  and  parachute,  have  reached 
the  city.  He  calculates  his  higheit 
elevation  at  35,000  feet.  We  undei^ 
stand  he  contemplates*  another  aacea* 
sipn.'' 

FOR  THB  AVROIiA. 

MR.  GUILLENS  ASOENSfON. 

**I  started  at  three  o'clock  and  thi^ 
ty-five  minutes,  on  Saturday  aftemooa, 
the  14th  October.  By  some  mistake, 
and  many  people  interfering  to  assist 
me  in  ascending,  the  t^ftn  lost  a 
considerable  quantity  otyhfi  gas.  la 
lessi  than  ^ve  minutes  I  ascended  to 
the  distance  of  1000  fbet,  when  the 
earth  disappeared  to  my  view.  There 
was  not  a  sufiiciency  of  distanoe  be- 
tween my  situation  aod  the  earth ;  4i8t« 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


BISTbRI()At. 


396 


Ih  disengage  myself  from  the  balloon 
would  have  been  attended  with  great 
clanger.  In  this  situation,  when  I  could 
not  see  any  part  of  the  earth,  I  re- 
manned  about  thirty  minutes,  when  I 
was  transferred  to  a  clear  region,  aiid 
had  the  advantage  of  the  sun,  which 
made  the  earth  appear  to  me  to  be 
c&rered  with  snow ;  from  thence  I  en- 
tered into  another  region  of  clouds, 
liioch  darker  than  the  former  ones, 
and  having  no  valve  to  tay  balloon,  I 
was  obliged  to  ascend  much  higher 
thse  I  would  otherwise  have  done.  In 
this  situation,  when  1  ascended  about 
35,000  feet,*  according  to  the  calcu- 
lation I  made  with  the  help  of  a  baro- 
meter, which  I  had  with  me,  the  air 
was  so  obscure,  that  I  could  neither 
see  the  balloon  or  pamchute,  and  .ow- 
ing to  the  great  cold  I  experienced, 
and  also  the  fatigues,  I  fell  asleep,  and 
slept  for  some  time.  I  would  still 
have  continued  to  ascend,  had  it  not 
been  for  the  wet  state  of  the  balloon, 
.  which  made  it  very  heavy,  and  this  I 
attribote  to  the  cause  why  my  descent 
Was  sooner  than  I  expected.  A  sin- 
gular drcomstance,  and  which  I  never 
had  experienced,  happened  to  me  in 
my  descent :  during  the  time  I  remain- 
ed snrrounded  by  clouds,  I  could  dis- 
tinctly hear  the  report  of  some  guns ; 
i  attribute  this  to  the  atmosphere  be- 
mg  generally  covered  with  clouds, 
and  I  believe  that  a  commotion  in  the 
air  will  sooner  communicate  it  to  a 
dark  than  a  clear  atmosphere.  When 
I  first  discovered  the  earth,  I  descend- 
ed so  rapidly,  owing  to  the  balloon 
being  so  heavy,  that  my  parachute 
opeMd  itself.  When  I  got  to  the 
ground,  in  an  open  field,  and  having 
DO  grappBng  irons,  I  was  dragged  a- 
bcMit  the  distance  of  Market-street, 
^oeaily  one  mile]  until  the  balloon 
was  arrested  in  its  course  by  a  forest, 
wbere,  with  the  assistance  of  some 
persons,  I  was  able  to  get  out  of  my 

*  Mr.  CroUle  eompated  the  greatest  ele- 
vatioii  of  the  balloon  to  have  been  3,600 
^el-Mhe  adHiumai  cypher,  was  a  typo- 
gprayaioal  error. 


basket  tod  secure  the  ballood.  Aff i 
Ralph  H.  Smith,  to  whom  I  herewith 
offer  my  sincerest  thanks,  was  kind 
enough  to  accompany  me  to  Trenton, 
where  we  arrived  at  8  o'clock-,  p.  m. 

CHARLES  OUILLB. 

Oceo6erl6, 1820.'' 

Mr.  Guilld  himself,  considered  this 
by  far  the  most  dangerous,  as  well  as 
unpleasant  aerial  excursion  that  he 
had  ever  made.  In  a  letter  t6  a  friend,  « 
he  observed,  that  every  thing  ran 
counter  to  his  wbhes.  The  yellow 
fever,  which  had  previously  retarded 
his  preparations,  although  it  had  sub- 
sided, still  had  a  tendency  to  diminish 
thenumber  of  bis  spectators:  and  on 
the  day  of  his  ascension,  the  vei/  ele* 
ments  themselves  were  arrayed  against 
him ;  the  weather  was  excessively  un- 
favourable— the  wind  high,  and  the 
air  filled  with  clouds.  Findiqg  it  ha- 
zardous to  deuch  himself  from  the 
balloon,  and  having  no  valve  by  which 
the  gas  might  escape,  he  was  com- 
pelled to  accompany  it  wherever  it 
might  chance  to  go.  A  great  part  of 
the  time  the  air  was  so  dense  as  to 
prevent  his  seeing  the  vehicle  to  which 
he  was  suspended ;  and  the  earth  re- 
mained constantly  invisible.  '^  SiPai 
eprouve  une  iruUmi  de  ]^ainr  Sam 
ma  vie,  c^esi  cehd  ou  yai  revue  td 
terreJ^  If  (says  he)  I  ever  enjoyed 
a  moment  of  happiness  in  my  life,  it 
was  when  I  came  in  view  of  the  earth 
again. 

FIFTH  ASCENSION. 

Having  as  yet  been  prevented  from 
exhibiting  the  use  of  the  parachute, 
Mr.  Guill^,  with  that  design  now  made 
arrangements  for  a  new  ascension; 
but  not  receiving  sufficient  encourage- 
ment to  justifv  the  risk  of  loss,  to 
which  the  balloon  is  exposed  by  that 
mode,  he  concluded  td  descend  in  the 
usual  manner,  and  whh  the  view  of 
illustrating  his  ptirpote,  to  detach, 
while  in  me  air,  a  monkey  by  a  small 
parachute.  In  the  afternoon  of  the 
23d  of  November,  1820,  he  ascended 
fron^  the  VatixhaU  ga^dep,  amid  th« 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC  ^ 


igh 


ttstO&lOAL. 


acdamatious  of  several  tbOas^d  spec- 
tators. In  about  five  minutes  he  at- 
tained a  sufficient  elevation,  when  he 
let  down  the  atfrighted  animal,  who 
reached  the  earth  in  safety.  He,  him- 
self,  continued  to  rise  a  few  minutes 
longer,  when  he  opened  the  valve^  and 
gently  descended  in  the  village  of 
Mantua,  one  or  two  miles  distant,  on 
the  west  bunk  of  the  Schuylkill. 

SIXTH  ASCENSION. 

thiring  the  winter,  Mr.  Guilte  J^ 
hinged  to  New- York,  and  as  the  sea- 
son grew  milder,  inade  preparations 
for  another  ascension  at  me  Vauxhall 
garden  in  that  city.  After  several 
postponements,  the  6th  of  June,  182t, 
was  finally  determined  upon  as  the 
day  on  which  it  would  take  place. 
On  this  occasion,  the  aAertioon  was 
excessively  warm,  and  the  clouds  of 
dust  ahnost  insupportable  :  yet  the 
streets  leading  to  the  garden  were  com« 
pletely  thronged  with  the  populace ; 
aud  carriages  of  every  description  fu- 
riously driving  for,  or  with,  passengers, 
gave  lively  animation  to  the  scene, 
and  proved  that  the  public  curiosity 
remained  Unabated.  It  was  the  inten- 
tion of  Mr.  Gullle,  previously  to  his 
own  ascension,  to  have  sent  off  a  gi- 
gaMic  figure  of  a  man,  as  an  avant 
courier  in  order  to  ascertain  the  direc^ 
tion  which  the  balloon  itself  would 
take.  But  the  body  of  4ie  figure, 
however,  proving  too  heavy,  tt  was 
decapitated,  and  the  head  alone  dis- 
patched into  the  aerial  regions,  where 
k  soon  disappeared.  It  had  also  been 
intended  that  Madam  Guiile  should 
have  ascended  to  a  considerable  height 
over  the  heads  of  the  spectators^  and 
afterwards  be  drawn  back  to  the  gar- 
den by  the  cords  which  retaiped  the 
balloon.  But  as  the  wind  was  blow- 
ing with  some  violence,  and  in  the  di- 
rection of  a  row  of  trees,  it  was  evi- 
dent that  her  return  would  have  been 
attended  with  imminent  daiqrer,  and 
the  design  was  accordingly  mndon- 
ed.  Mr.  Guiile  himself  entered  the 
car  at  the  sippointed  hour^  and  rose 


very  beautifully  from  tlie  gSrden;  bttt 
being  at  an  inconsiderable  elevalioQ, 
and  passing  rapidly  before  the  wind, 
he  was  at  once  hid  frt>m  view  by  tbe 
intervening  objects.  Having  opesed 
tbe  valve  of  the  balloon,  he  desceniled 
near  a  small  pond  of  water  about  a 
mile  from  Vauxhall,  to  which  place 
he  returned  in  the  course  of  die  daj. 

Mr.  Guille's  own  account  of  thea»' 
cepsion,  as  given  in  a  letter  to  tbe  ed- 
itor of  the  Masonic  Register,  is  a 
follows : 

«  My  last  ascension  in  New-Yoric, 
took  place  on  the  6th  of  JuDe,a(8 
very  unfavourable  time.  Tbe  wind 
which  prevailed  throughout  tteday, 
retarded  my  operations  considerably) 
and  the  couductor,rmade  of  silk]  which 
led  the  gas  into  the  Balloon,  was  »* 
veral  times  torn  by  its  violence,  which 
was  frequently  so  great  as  to  leqoire 
ten  men  to  hold  the  Balloon  ia  its  pro' 
per  place.  In  addition  to  tbe  ps 
which  escaped  by  the  wnthuipofthe 
Balloon,  a  great  quantity  of  i^nM** 
pherjc  air  entered  it,  and  considenUy 
impeded  my  efibru.  But  by  ^^^"^ 
ing  an  extraordinary  quantity  of  Oil « 
Vitriol,  I  was  enabled  to  inflate  the 
Balloon  sufficiently  to  carry  my  oto 
weight.  I  ascended  at  &vt  o'clod^ 
but  the  wind  being  too  strong,  did  oot 
permit  me  to  ascend  very  high,  as  il 
carried  me  idong  with  miKh  capiffiQf* 
Observing  that  I  was  fiist  approechiB| 
the  [Hudson]  river,  I  in  about  tfo 
minutes  opened  the  valve  of  myBii' 
loon.  On  coming  to  the  ground,  1 1^ 
ceived  scarcely  iny  shock,  but  wis 
dragged  along  about  half  a  nule,  ^ 
was  at  length  stopped  by  two  P^'f'*' 
whom  1  found  there;  otherwise  it  if 
probable  I  should  have  beencani^ 
into  the  water.  My  greatest  devaiioi 
was  nearly  200  tcises.  I  am  cflrtaifi 
that  if  tbe  wind  had  not  been  unfav^V' 
able,  I  should  have  made  a  very  to 
asceiisioni  but  I  could  not  coolsw 
against  the  elements,  nolwithataodiiig 
the  earnest  desire  I  had,  to  give  sst» 
factioii  to  the  American  p^^.'' 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


POETICAL.  397 

Prom  the  Massachusxtts  Czmmi.,  of  Januaiy  16,  a.  d-  1704- 

PROGRESS  OF  BALLOONS. 

Assist  me,  ye  muses,  (whose  harps  are  in  tune) 
To  tell  of  the  flight  of  the  gallant  balloon ! 
As  high  as  my  subject  permit  me  to  soar, 
To  heights  onattempted,  untfaought  of  before. 

The  earth,  on  its  surfaee,  has  all  been  sarvey'd, 
^he  sea  has  been  tni\'eird — and  deep  in  the  shade^ 
The  kingdom  of  Pinto  ha»heard  us  at  work, 
When  we  dig  for  his  metals  wherever  they  lurk. 

But  who  would  have  thought  that  inventioD  could  ris#) 
To  find  out  ^,  method  to  soar  to  the  skies, 
And  pierce  the  bright  regions,  which  ages  assign'd. 
To  spirits  embodied,  and  flights  of  the  mind. 

Let  the  gods  of  Olympus  their  revels  prepare, 
Br  the  aid  of  some  pounds  of  inflammable  air 
We'll  vbit  them  soon-^-and  forsake  this  dull  ball. 
With  coat,  shoes  and  stockings,  fat  carcase  and  all. 

How  France  is  distinguished  in  Louis's  reign  ! 
What  cannot  her  genius  and  tourage  attain  ? 
Throughout  the  wide  worid  have  her  arms  found  the  way. 
And  ar<  to  the  starft  b  extending  her  sway. 

At  sea  let  the  British  tiieir  neighbours  defy— 
The  French  shall  have  frigates  to  traverse  the  sky-^ 
In  this  navigation  more  fortunate  prove> 
And  croite  at  their  ease  in  the  dimates  above. 

If  the  English  should  venture  to  sea  with  their  Aset,     * 
A  host  of  balloons  in  a  trice  thev  shall  meet^. 
The  French  trom  the  zenith  their  wings  shall  display* 
And  souse  on  these  sek  dogs,  and  bear  thf  m  awey- 

Te  saijl^,  who  travel  on  mighty  desi^i 
^o  measure  meridians  and  parallel  hnes — 
The  task  being  tedious,  take  heed,  if  you  pleaxe^ 
Construct  a  balloOny  and  you'U  do  it  with  ease> 

And  ye>  who  the  heaven^s  broad  coneave  suil^ey) 
And,  aided  by  glasses,  its  secrets  betray> 
Who  gaze  the  night  through,  at  the  wondecfi^  scene, 
Vet  still  are  complaiwng  of  ^Rours  betweei^ 

Ah,  seiie  the  conveyaikoe,  Iuii4  fearlessly  iW^ 
To  peep  at  the  Ufxti^onu  that  light  up  the  ski^f  \ 
And  floating  above,  on  our  ocean  of  (Ur, 
Inform  us,  by  letter,  what  people  are  Uiis^t^ 

Itk  Saturn,  advise  U^  if  sHOw  flM  iileltii-» 

And  what  are  the  uses  of  Jupiteref  belts  ^ 

And  ^ttars  being  wiling)  prfy  send  us  worn*  |p|e#PP|^ 

It^  Ids  people  are  fj^l^  offifhtJffg  Aan  eatii^. 


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39S  rOETtOAL. 

Our  folks  of  good  morals  it  wo(uDy  grievis,  ' 
That  Mercury's  people  are  villains  and  thieves^ 
You'll  see  how  it  i8--4>ut  I'll  venture  to  show, 
For  a  dozen  among  them,  twelve  dozen  below. 

From  long  observation,  one  proof  mav  be  had 
That  the  men  in  the  Moon  are  incurably  mad ; 
However,  compare  us,  and  if  thejr  eiceed, 
I'hey  must  be  surprisingly  crazy  indeed. 

But  now  to  have  done  with  our  planets  and  moons^    . 
Come,  grant  me  a  patent  for  raaKing  balloons, 
For  I  find  that  the  time  is  approaching — the  day— 
When  horses  shall  fail,  and  the  horsemen  decay. 

Post  riders,  at  present  (call'd  centaurs  of  old) 
Who  brave  all  the  seasons,  hot  weather  uid  oold. 
In  future  shall  leave  their  dull  ponies  behind, 
And  travel,  like  ghosts,  on  the  wings  of  the  wind. 

The  staeeman,  whose  gallopers  scarce  have  the  powet/ 
Through  the  dirt  to  convey  you  ten  miles  in  an  hour. 
When  advanced  to  balloons  shall  so  furiously  drive, 
You'll  hardly  know  whether  you're  dead  or  alive. 

The  man  who  from  Boston  sets  out  with  the  sun^ 
If  he  has  a  fair  wind  gets  to  New-York  at  one; 
At  Gunpowder  Ferry  drink  whiskey  at  three, 
And  at  six  be  at  Edenton  ready  for  tea. 

(The  niachine  shall  be  ordeir*d,  we  hardty  need  say. 

To  travel  in  darkness  as  well  as  by  day) 

At  Charleston  by  ten  he  for  sleep  shall  prepare. 

And  by  twelve  the  next  day  be,  the  devU  knows  where? 

WheA  the  ladies  grow  sick  of  the  city  in  June, 
What  a  jaunt  they  shall  have  in  the  flying  balloon  \ 
Whole  mornings  shall  see  them  at  toilets  preparing^ 
And  forty  miles  high' be  their  afternoon's  airing. 

Yet  more  with  its  fitness  for  commerce  I'm  stnick —  * 
What  loads  of  tobacco  shall  fly  from  Kentucr; 
What  packs  of  best  beaver— bar-iron  and  pig. 
What  budgets  of  leather  from  Bonocco-cheague  I 

If  Britain  should  ever  disturb  ns  again, 
(As  they  threaten  to  do  in  the  next  George's  reign) 
Ko  doubt  they  will  play  us  a  set  of  new  tunes, 
And  pepper  us  well  from  their  fif^ting  Iwlloonff. 

To  market  the  fanners  shall  shortly  i>epair, 
With  their  hogs  and  potatoes,  wholesale,  through  the  air^ 
Skim  over  the  water  as  light  as  a  feather. 
Themselves  and  their  turkies  conversing  together. 

Such  wonders  as  these  from  balloons  shall  arisa 
And  the  giantir  of  old  that  assaulted  the  aides. 
With  their  Ossa  on  Pelion  shaU  freely  confoii 
That  all  they  attempted  was  nothktg  t9  this. 


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LITBKAKT  INTBLLIGKNCK. 


m 


MASONIC  P.  S. 

«0  TBI  EDITOR  OF  THE  MASONIC  RKQISTXB. 

The'^Qaere''  contained  in  the  last 
miinber  of  your  Register,  is  particular- 
ly well  timed  and  worthy  of  attention; 
It  has  lately  been  the  subject  of  much 
complaint,  that  sojourning  brethren  of 
respectability  and  rank  in  the  states 
where  they  reside,  have  frequently 
been  pot  off  with  some  frivolous  <'  pre- 
tence," and  sometimes  repelled  with- 
out any.  Such  usage  is  unjust,  and 
exceedingly  vexatious  to  any  AlasoD 
who  knows  what  attention  he  hat  a 
right  to  expect  as  a  mmter,  and  who 
is  feelingly  alive  to  every.claim  and 
privilege  of  a  brother.  ^ 

Every  lodge  ought  to  be  as  "  free" 
to  the  stranger  who  is  worthy,  as  to  a 
naember;  or  the  term  "free^^  is  an 
empty,  unmeaning  word,  and  "  Free 
Masonry"  a  farce ;  and  the  master  of 
ercry  lodge  ought  to  recollect,  that  it 
is  not  for  him  to  display 

"  The  insolence  of  office," 
bait  to  "  entertain  strangers." 

A  PAST^AST«R. 

MASONIC  CEREMONY. 
On^he  1 6th  of  April  last,  the  coi^ 
ner  stone  of  a  new  Independent  Meth- 
odist church,  was  laid  in  Lexington, 
Kentucky.  The  ceremony  was  per- 
formtd  in  the  true  Masonic  style,  un- 
der the  direction  of  the  M.  W.  Henry 
Clay,  grand  mast^  of  the  grand  lodge 
of  Kentucky.  A  large  and  respectaUe 
procession  moved  from  tHe  lodge  room 
to  the  scite  of  the  butldmg,  where  a 
SQitable  address  was  delivered  on  the 
occasion,  by  the  most  worshipful  grand 
inaster. 

OEaaS^BBBBaaBBSSBSBSBeSBaB 
UTERARY. 
I«EW  MASONIC  MAGAZINE. 
^  ,  Proposals  are  issued  by  William 
GiBBEs  Hunt,  Esq,  most  excellent 
deputy  grand  high  priest  of  the  grand 
chapter  of  Kentucky,  for  publishing, 
at  Lexington,  a  periodical  work,  to  be 
entitled,  ^  ne  Masonic  MisceUany. 
an4  La^^  Literary  Magaxiner 


to  be  issued  in  moDthly  numbers,  each 
containing  forty  octavo  pa|^s,  at  three 
dollars  a  year.;  ^^  invariably  to  be 
paid  on  the  delivery  d*  the  first  num- 
ber." At  least  one  half  of  the  pro- 
posed work  is  to  be  devoted  to  Ma- 
sonic subjects,  and  the  remainder  to 
"  GENERAL  LITERATURE,  and  particu- 
larly to  the  amusement  of  the  lawks." 
Masonry,  perhaps,  never  stood  on 
more  commanding  ground  than  it  does 
at  the  present  day;  prejudice,  bigotry, 
and  superstition,  are  mdually  sinkmg 
before  its  rays,  in  simost  every  part 
of  the.  world,  and  the  most  illustrious 
characters  are  proud  to  be  initiated 
into  its  mysteries.  The  general  diffu- 
sion of  Masonic  light,  is  an  object 
much  to  be  desired;  and  the  well 
known  talents  of  companion  Hunt, 
together  with  his  extensive  Masonic 
acquirements,  repder  him  a  very  suit- 
able person  to  conduct  a  work  of  th# 
kind  proposed. 

UNIVERSITY  OF  OHIO. 
Ilie  « American  Friend,"  of  the 
11th  of  May,  contains  a  report  of  the 
trustees  of  this  institution,  in  which 
they  state,  that  « they  have  brought  it 
upon  a  respectable  footing,  and  that  it 
holds  out  advantaged  inferior  to  few, 
if  any,  seminaries  in  the  western  comq,- 
try."  The  college  is  situated  ^n  a 
beautiful  rise  of  ground  in  th^  village 
of  Athens. 

"THE  LITERARY  COM?ANION." 
We  have  lately  seen  proposals  for  a 
new  paper,  under  this  title,  the  first 
number  of  which  will  be  issu^  on 
Saturday,  the  sixteenth  of  the  present 
month.  It  is  intended  to  b^  published 
weekly,  in  the  octavo  form,  contain- 
ing sixteen  pages.  It  is  designed  chiefiy 
for  the  female  part  of  the  community; 
and  will  accordingly  comprise  such 
subjects  as  may  be  more  particularly 
interesting  to  them.  The  <<  fashiops, 
dress  and  amusements,  public  and  pri- 
vate, foreign  and  domestic,"  will  con* 
sequently  receive  due  altcotion.    X 

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400 


POBTICAl. 


liberal  crirtgiie  on  tte  Drama,  is  also 
promised,  which  in  the  present  dearth 
of  theatrical  remarks,  is  exceedingly 
desirable.  From  a  knowledge  of  the 
Editor's  abilities,  we  have  no  hesita- 
tion in  recommending  his  attempt  to 
tiie  )ibcral  patronage  of  the  public. 

NEW  HYMN  BOOK. 
Mk.  William  Bates,  of  this  eity, 
has  just  published  a  neat  little  work 
entitled, "  The  Prayer  Meeting  Hymn 
Book,  intended  also  for  Camp  Meet- 
ings,  and  Rcvivab  of  Religion  among 
the  MethodisU:"  consisting  of  several 
original  pieces,  and  selections  from  va- 
rious authors.  We  are  informed,  that 
so  far  as  it  has  been  circulated,  it  ha* 
met  with  general  approbation. 

FROM  TH«  COMMERCIAL  ADVERTISER. 

-Messrs.  Editors, 

Soon  after  the  publication  of  "  Ele- 
gant Lessons,  Wj  the  Young  Lady^s 
Preceptor^^ — a  work  peculiarly  de- 
signed lor  female  schools  and  aca- 
demies, by  Samuel  Whiting,  Esq. 
I  procured  a  copy,  and  was  so  forcibly 
«truck  with  iU  extensive  variety,  the 
judicious  selection,  and  systematic  ar- 
rangement, that  I  immediately  intro- 
duced it  into  my  female  school;  and  I 
have  no  hesitation  in  saying,  that,  as  a 
reading  book,  it  is  better  than  any 
other  of  its  kind,  which  I  have  met 

with.  A.  M.  MERCHANT. 


THE  GAMES  OF  LIFE. 
Tb«  little  Jtfttf  at  three  years  old, 

Flays  with  her  doll  aod  prattles ; 
The  little  Master,  stout  and  bold, 

Flays  with  his  drums  aod  rattles. 
The  Bojff  detesthig  mushr  books, 

Loves  romping  with  the  lasses ; 
And  Mitt  grows  older,  studies  looks^ 

And  plays  with  looking  glasses. 
The  jolly  Toper,  fond  of  fun, 

Flays  with  his  friends  at  drinking ; 
The  Sporttman  plays  with  doe  and  gun ; 

And  Wite  Men  play  at  thteking. 
The  Beauty f  fall  of  haughty  airs, 

When  young,  plays  at  tormenting  > 
3ut  wrinkled  turned  to  other  tares, 

And  sports  at  last  repenting. 


Wretched  from  self-created  woe> 

The  Jftser'f^ame  is  hoarding  ; 
And  when  he  meets  his  countiy's  foe, 

The  Sailor  plays  at  boirdlBg. 
The  Laiwyer  plays  h'ls  game  so  wen 

As  gets  him  many  a  greeting, 
The  Jiuctioneer  with  things  to  sell, 

The  QlvlUm  playa  at  eating. 
To  play  at  dosing,  Decforrknow 

A  lengthy  ease  is  cheering! 
And  thoM,  who  would  to  Congress  gc(. 

Flay  at  electioneering. 
With  ledger  busied,  Aferetotf<  take 

A  game  at  calculation ; 
And  Congrettmen  too  often  make 

A  plaything  of  the  nation. 
By  qieaking  much  and  doing  nought, 

By  bnstl'uig,  threat'ning,  raving, 
Congress  the  nation  have  not  twght. 

That  they  have  played  at  saving. 
With  looks  profoudd,  and  thoughtful  mind^ 

Projeei<n'tp\ay  at  scheming ; 
Till  worn  with  care,  at  last  they  find 

They've  all  along  been  dreanuag. 
The  Loter  sad,  and  woeiol  wan. 

Flays  day  and  night  at  fretting ; 
Whilst  laughing  at  tne  silly  man. 

His  Delia  sports  coquetting. 
Cowardt,  while  none  but  cowards  nigh. 

Are  fond  of  gasconading ; 
And  Statetmen  fawn,  and  cringe,  and  \wt 

And  play. at  masquerading. 
The  Louneer  plays  at  killing  time, 

The  SoldUr  plays  at  slaying ; 
The  Port  plays  at  making  rhyrar, 

The^e(/uK^M  at  praying.*      '    * 
At  setting  types  the  Priniert  play, 

And  sometimes  with  their  qiulls. 
Their  Patront  do  not  play  they  say. 

At  paying  off  theu*  Bills. 
The  Player  plays  for  wealth  and  fame ; 

And  thus  all  play  together ; 
Till  Death  at  last  Uist&bs  the  ganie^ 

And  4ops  their  play  forever. 

*  We  presntaie  it  was  not  the  IntenliM  ef 
the  author  to  cast  refections  of  an  ungeo* 
erous  nature  upon  the  Methodista,but«s 
think  he  is  guilty  of  treating  so  serioos  t 
subject,  with  too  much  levity .^Editor^ 


TO  CORRESFONDENTS. 

"  Locke,'*  from  Mount  Fleasant,  Ohio, 
is  received,  and  may  be  expeeted  in  ovr 
next. 

<<  Junius"  partakes  too  much  of  the  ^ 
rtt  of  party,  to  Gnd  a  place  in  oar  pi^tt- 

EnaxTA'^In  our  last  number, jpafe  966. 
third  line  from  the  top,  read  «  Wm  <*» 
soul  shall  decay,"  kc.  imtead  gf  "Wbeo 
thy  soul  shall  decay,"  fcf . 

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THE 


AMERICAN  MASONIC  REGISTER, 

AND 

Ladies'  and  Gentleinen^s  Magazine. 


BY  LUTHER  PRATT. 


*    Re  thtt  kee|>eth  hii  mouth  keepeth  his  life :  but  he  that  openeth  wide  his  lips  slm^  ksvM 
destruction. 
Iliere  is  that  nmketh  himself  rich,  yet  hath  nothing :  there  is  that  makeitk  himself  poor, 
yet  bath  great  riches.  Solomoh. 


[No.  XI.] 


FOR  JULY,  A.  D.  1821.  A.  L.  5821. 


[Vol.  L] 


MASONIC. 

the  foilowing  excellent  discourse,  was 
delivered  on  the  24th  of  June,  A.  L.  6618, 
to  (he  brethren  of  Washington  Lodee  No. 
17,  at  Hamilton,  Ohio,  and  a  number  of 
brethren  from  Cincinnati,  Lebanon,  and 
Brookrille,  on  the  festival  of  St.  John  the 
Biptisty  by  Brother  William  Burkx. 

DISCOURSE. 

Beloved,  if  Cod  so  loved  ui,  we  ought  aUo 
hktt  one  another.  1  John,  iv,  11. 

He  who  planted  the  principle  of  at- 
tnctiott  in  the  material  worid,  plants 
iXe  principle  of  benevolence  in  intelli- 
gent treafores ;  and  has  in  particaHnr 
enjoined  Christians  to  love  one  anoth- 
er. He,  therefore,  who  through  grace 
possesses  and  cultivates  this  disposl- 
tioB^  manifests  that  he  is  a  Christian, 
aadoneofthefiBHnilyofGod;  resem- 
blmg  his  heavenly  Father^  for  God  is 
love  f  God  19  the  nost  benevolent  of 
sll  beings,  full  of  love  to  his  ttependent 
features;  so  that  in  Him  there  is 
Mhing  wanting  to  the  highest  periec- 
tiott  of  love :  he  is  the  great  fountain, 
ttdeiemplaroflove:  he  reeommends 
|t  by  Us  bw,  and  produces  and  cher- 
i^ttUbv  his  influence;  and  4he  due 
coMempUtion  of  him  will  of  course 
bflanse  our  hearts  with  love  to  his  tfi- 
iFioeaHjestjryaBdto  our  foHawcroih 


tures,  for  his  sake.  We,  as  his  chil- 
dren, ought  to  imitate  the  iofinitelj 
amiable  example  of  our  common  Fa- 
ther, and  sincerely,  and  affectionately 
love  one  another  ;  for  this  is  the  best 
proof  we  can  give  of  our  love  to  him, 
and  the  prevalence  of  his  grace  in  our 
hearts. 

I.  God  so  loved  us,  antecedently, 
with  a  love  of  ptty^  or  benevolence : 

For  we  certainly  know  but  little  d 
the  pristine  state  of  man ;  only,  that 
he  was  the  workmanship  of  the  great, 
wise,  good,  and  perfect  Architect  of 
heaven  and  earth ;  who,  when  he  had 
finished  the  great  work,  this  earthly 
temple,  and  made  man  the  key-stone 
and  governor  of  the  same,  he  pronoun* 
oed  all  to  be  very  good.  Man,  when 
he  came  out  of  die  hands  of  his  Mn- 
ker,  was  pore  and  happy  ^  but  we  arc 
ioftmned  by  the  sacred  Word  of  God, 
that  in  consequence  of  the  abase  of 
what  he  was  invested  with,  he  divest- 
ed hifflselfofthat  innocence,  regularly 
ty,  and  union,  which  he  had  with  his 
M^er ;  and  having  strayed^m  the 
path  of  rectitude,  involved  hunself  and 
all  his  posterity  in  the  vortex  of  sin, 
subjecting  himself,  and  all  the  human 
family  to  condemnation :  from  which 
God  innereyi  and  for.Ui^  great  love 

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40d 


.  MASONIC. 


wberewHh  be  lored  us,  sent  his  only 
begotten  Son,  wfao  made  provision  for 
our  redemption. 

n.  God  manifested  his  love  to  us  by 
\ray  of  promise ;  which  was  the  foun- 
dation on  which  the  ruined  temple 
should  hereafter  be  buik.  This  prom- 
ise darted  the  first  ray  of  divine  light 
into  the  benishted  understanding,  and 
called  forth  the  exercise  and  energies 
of  the  soul. 

Faith  was  now  possessed  of  an  ob- 
ject. Hope  was  called  into  action. 
God's  love  manifested,  begat  in  man 
that  reciprocal  affection ;  for  we  love 
him,  because  he  first  loved  us.  The 
Patriarchal,  and  Prophetic  dispensa- 
tions ;  the  giving  of  the  law ;  and  the 
rights,  and  ceremonies  practised  un- 
der those  dispensations ;  all  were  de- 
signed to  point  to  the  great  Saviour  of 
mankind,  and  to  direct  the  attention 
to  that  light  which  **  lighteth  every 
man  that  cometh  into  the  world." 

The  near  approach  of  the  Sun  of  Righ- 
teousness is  announced  by  John  the 
Baptist,  the  forerunner  of  the  Saviour, 
the  harbinger  of  that  gospel  which 
brought  life  and  immortality  to  light, 
and  directed  a  lost  and  perishing 
world  to  the  Saviour  and  Redeemer, 
who  he  declares  is  ^^  the  Lamb  of  God 
who  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world." 
And  it  is  said  by  ttte  Apostle,  that 
Christ  ^*  gave  himself  for  us,  that  he 
might  redeem  us  from  all  iniquity,  and 
purify  to  himself  a  peculiar  people , 
zealous  of  good  works."  God  so  loved 
the  world,  fts  to  give  his  only  begotten 
Son  to  redeem  us ;  and  hath  promised, 
with  him,  freely  to  give  us  all  things : 
the  pardon  of  our  sins^  if  we  truly  and 
sincerely  repent;  the  necessary  sop- 
port  uiider  all  the  trials  and  afflictions 
of  life.  His  }m>mise  verified  5  "  My 
grace  is  sufficient  for  you."  All  tlie 
necessaries  of  Ufe,  your  bread  and  wa- 
ter, shall  be  sure ;  and  finally  triumph 
over  the  grave,  and  a  free,  and  full  ad- 
mittance into  his  heavenly  kingdom, 
where  we  shall  be  safely  lodged  in  the 
mansions  of  eternal  rest. 

IIL  Having  such  an  example  b^ 


fore  us,  ougnt  we  not  to'  love  one  t'mo- 
ther? 

But  before  we  can  have  the  proper 
exercise  of  this  love,  we  must  divest 
ourselves  of  the  love  of  this  world ; 
we  must  renounce  its  pride,  pomp,  and 
vanity;  we  must  have  an  assurance 
that  we  love  God,  and  that  we  are 
approved  before  him.  If  we  love  God, 
our  words,  actions,  tempers,  and  dispo- 
sitions will  evidence  the  truth  of  the 
same.  We  shall  always  speak  of  him 
with  reverence ;  we  shall  not  take  his 
name  in  vain  ;  we  will  defend  his 
character,  and  admire  his  attributes. 

Our  actions  will  be  squared  by  the 
Word  of  God ;  we  shall  not  love  in 
word  nor  in  tongue,  but  in  deed  and 
in  truth. 

As  good  and  honest  Masons,  we 
will  defend  each  other's  characters; 
we  will  use  our  best  endeavours  .to 
promote  each  other's  welfare  and  pros- 
perity in  this  world  ;  reprove,  advise, 
and  admonish  each  other,  to  walk  up- 
rightly before  God,  and  man ;  remem- 
bering that  we  are  all  travelling  upon 
the  level  of  time  to  that  ^^  undiscover- 
ed country  from  whose  bourne  no  trav- 
eller returns." 

If  we  love  God,  and  love  one  ano- 
ther, our  love  will  not  be  confined 
within  the  narrow  limits  of  our  own 
fraternity ;  we  shall  be  like  our  divine 
Master  ;  we  shall  go  about  doing  good, 
administering  counsel  to  the  ignorant, 
food  to  the  hungry,  and  spreid  a  gai^ 
ment  over  the  naked  and  destitute  ^ 
disseminatmg  peace  and  good  wiH 
among  our  iellow  creatures;  doing  good 
unto  all  men,  but  especially  to  the 
household  of  faith ;  always  prefenjiK 
a  good  and^  worthy  brother,  and  mem 
of  his  household,  who  deport  them- 
selves worthy  of  our  patronage.  Final- 
ly, our  tempers  and  dispo8iti#n8  we 
are  bound  to  govern,  keeping  then 
within  due  bounds  with  all  men*  bot 
more  especially'with  each  <^diec|  living 
as  children  of  the  same  parent,  and 
members  of  the  same  great  ftmily; 
that,  being  trained  up  in  that  kind  of 
discipline^  we  may  stand  accepted  Imr. 

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MASONIC. 


40^ 


fyce  our  Gnind  Master,  in  the  Grand 
Lodge,  ia  mansions  of  eternal  day. 

To  the  Citizens. 

There  are  many  fhinip  respecting 
Free  Masonry,  of  which  we  cannot 
speak,  particularly  in  public ;  yet  we 
are  at  liberty  to  illustrate  those  things, 
so  far  as  it  may  interest  those  who  are 
not  members  of  the  Society. 

The  first  inquiry  that  would  proba- 
bly  present  itself  to  the  mind,  would 
be.  What  can  Masonry  be  ?  Can  it 
possibly  be  any  thing  more  than  a 
shadow,  or  a  trap,  in  which  some  have 
been  taken,  and  having  been  them- 
selves deceived,  deceive  others,  rather 
than  expose  their  own  weakness  ?  or 
something  that  may  be  said  to  possess 
no  reality  ? 

We  answer,  Masonry  is  not  only 
reaJf  but  ctndenf,  mysterious  and  se- 
cret; the  object  is,  to  bind  men  by 
the  strongest  ties,  to  be  what  every 
good  man  ought  to  be.  A  moment's 
serious  reflection  must  convince  every 
one  that  Masonry  abounds  with  reali- 
ties. Nor  need  we  look  further  than 
the  present  assembly,  to  establish  this 
truth :  for  it  is  not  possible  that  such 
an  assemblage  of  intellect,  as  is  here 
presented,  could  have  become  so  com- 
pletely infatuated,  as  to  continue,  year 
aAer  year,  in  the  active  promotion  of 
an  institution  founded  only  in  idea,  and 
calculated  only  to  deceive.  But  Free 
Masonry  being  extended  to  the  re- 
motest parts  of  the  habitable  globe, 
proves  not  only  its  reality y  but  its  an- 
cient origin.  Persons  from  countries 
we  seldom  visit,  from  the  nations  of 
the  south,  and  the  east,  whose  prede- 
cessors have  had  no  communication 
with  each  other  for  centuries  past,  who 
speak  not  our  common  language,  are 
enabled  to  speak  to  us  in  the  language 
of  Masons,  approach  mider  the  mystic 
tie,  and  pour  out  theur  complaints  and 
distresses  before  us. 

These  things  could  not  be,  if  they 
bad  not  received  their  knowledge  from 
the  same  source }  which  source  must 
beanciaU. 


When  we  attempt  to  trace  Masonry 
to  its  foundation,  we  find  it  did  not 
originate  with  Solomon,  as  some  have 
supposed.  But  to  him,  and  h»  asso- 
ciates, we  are  indebted  for  those  wise 
regulations  which  have  preserved  it 
from  decay.  Nor  did  it  originate  with 
Moses,  or  in  the  £g}'ptian  mysteries, 
with  which  he  was  conversant :  yet  by 
these  it  was  expanded,  ^nd  greatly 
strengthened  in  its  first  stages. 

It  vegan^  when  order  was  first  es- 
tablished among  the  defendants  of 
fallen  man. 

To  the  Ladies, 

They  may  reasonably  enquire,  if 
the  object  of  Masonry  be,  to  bind 
men  by  stronger  ties  to  be  what  every 
good  man  ought  to  be,  ^'  why  the  wor- 
thy of  our  sex  are  not  admitted  among 
them  r" 

Masonry  was  originally  mechani- 
cal, or  an  operative  science ;  and  from 
the  operations  performed,  various  mor- 
al reflections  were  deduced  and  ests^b- 
lished.  Originally  it  must  have  been 
inconsistent  for  you  to  share  in  those 
labours :  the  construction  of  yoqr  ef- 
feminate limbs  were  not  intended  for 
soch  hardships;  nor  were  your  feeble 
arms  calculated  to  wield  the  glittering 
sword. 

When  the  mechanical  or  operative 
system  became  more  diflused  among 
tnose  not  of  the  fraternity,  and  those 
of  amoral  nature  more  highly  cultiva- 
ted, still  there  were  objections  to  your 
admission:  and  indeed,  nature  itself 
seems  to  have  rendered  it  unnecessary 
for  you  to  have  this  addhional  stimu- 
lus to  the  practice  of  virtue :  formed 
with  a  peculiar  quickness,  as  well  as 
tenderness  and  sensibility,  woman  flies 
to  relieve,  while  man  pauses  and  de- 
liberates: she  finds  objects  of  charity, 
while  he  looks  on  with  cold  indifler- 
ence^  her  feelings  open  as  melting 
day,  ppmpt  her  to  ofler  balsam  to  the 
wounded  sphrit ;  by  which  means  her 
own  heart  becomes  the  Lodge  where 
virtue  presidls. 

It  is  sometimes,  wfortunatelyi  the 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


404 


MASONIC. 


case,  that  tb6  most  worthy  of  your 
sex  are  connected  in  bonds  of  wed- 
lock with  the  most  unworthy  men. — 
Were  it  admissible,  and  should  such 
an  one  apply  to  as  for  admission,  on 
what  grounds  could  she  be  refused? — 
While  the  man  must  for  ever  be  de- 
barred, would  it  not  produce  schisms 
in  families?  Would  it  not  produce 
mater  evil  than  good  ?  Would  the 
husband  or  father  suffer  the  wife  or 
daughter  to  frequent  a  society  where 
he  couldgain  no  admittance?  Would 
not  the  monster,  jealousy,  be  roused, 
whose  poison  would  destroy  the  fair- 
est flowers  of  the  land? — whose  rage 
would  cease  only  with  death.  It  can- 
not be:  you  must  remain  without  the 
Cile,  notwithstanding,  could  we  be  al- 
wed  to  speak  more  particularly  of 
the  sacred  ties  by  which  we  are  bound 
to  protect  you ;  could  we  bat  commu- 
nicate to  you  the  mode  by  whith  your 
rights,  and  your  virtues,  are  guarded 
and  secured;  you  would  rejoice;  you 
would  count  it  a  privilege  to  be  the 
wives  and  daughters  of  Masons. 

2b  the  Memberi  of  Jleligimt$  Deno^ 
minaHoM. 
Permit  us,  by  a  hort  course  of  rea- 
soning, to  show  that  some  of  the  opin- 
ions you  may  entertain  of  us,  are 
founded  in  error.  To  effect  this,  we 
will  in  the  first  place,  call  you  to  no- 
tice what  we  exhibit  before  you. — 
Your  attention  must  first  be  attracted 
by  the  holy  writings;  which  you  as 
well  as  ourselves,  cannot  but  admire 
and  revere.  You  likewise  see  a  re- 
presentation of  the  working  tools, 
which  were  employed  at  the  building 
of  the  temple,  of  which  those  writings 
speak.  You,  with  ourselves,  may  be 
sible  to  draw  moral  deductions  from 
those  implements:  for  we  profess  to 
exhibit  nothing  for  vain  show:  we 
profess  to  have  meaning  in  all  we  do. 
This  admitted,  you  can  trace  through 
all  our  public  acts,  marks  of  our  hav- 
ing existed  as  a  society  ^  the  time  of 
that  building;  which  was  in  conform- 
ity with  the  plans  of  the  ^tabemade 


that  was  made ;"  and  which  is  at  thia 
time  duly  represented  and  explained 
to  us.  Should  you  admit,  that  the 
society  was  originally  established  in 
conformity  with  the  Mosaic  dispensa^ 
tion,  and  combines  with  it  many  of  the 
traditions  of  the  Jews,  you  may  be 
led  to  doubt  the  propriety  of  it  at  the 
present  day.  But  you  will  recollect, 
that  as  Christians,  we  admit  the  OUy 
as  well  as  the  New  Testament ;  and 
that  they  are  only  as  so  many  links  in 
the  indissoluble  chain  of  the  glorious 
gospel  of  our  Redeemer. 

Our  assembling  this  day,  to  com- 
memorate the  birth  of  John  the  Bap- 
tist, is  evidence  that  we  are  not  re- 
gardless of  this  new  dispensation. — 
The  many  blessings  that  we  are  ia 
possession  of,  and  the  instructions  we 
have  on  record,  from  the  apostles  them- 
selves, must  be  disregarded  by  ua,  if 
we  do  not  conform  to  Christianity.— 
Yet,  it  does  not  follow,  that  we  must 
abandon  our  traditions  on  that  account : 
for  the  Apostle  Paul  commands  us,  as 
brethren,  to  withdraw  ourselves  from 
every  <^  brother  who  walketh  dis<x^eiw 
ly,  and  not  after  the  traditions  we  had 
received  of  them.**    Not  only  this  pas- 
sage, but  many  others  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament, appear  to  have  been  directed 
in  a  special  manner,  to  the  Masonic 
family  of  that  day ;  and  particidarlj 
Paul's  epistle  to  the  Hebrews.     Abo, 
in  many  of  the  parables  spoken  by  our 
Saviour,  we  fiqd  general  expressioo& 
such  as,  ^^  a  gtain  of  mustard  seedJ** 
^<  a  little  leaven," &c.  But  when  speak- 
ing of  a  certain  Scripture,  the  langoage 
is  changed,  by  s^ng,  <<  The  Stone 
which  the  builders  rejected,  the  same 
is  become  the  head  of  the  comer :" 
unquestionably  alluding  to  some  pai^ 
ticular  building,  and  under  some  pec«- 
liar  circumstances ;  which  beautiful^ 
typifies  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  rejected 
by  men. 

Time  will  by  no  means  admit  nA^  on 
the  present  occasion,  to  recili  tliose 
numerous  passages  of  the  holy  fhrliio^ 
designed  for  the  Masonic  fani^. 

It  has  been  sufficiently  sriiown,  tbffT 


JfA90NIC. 


405 


4Air  institutibn  has  been  sanctioned  and 
supported  by  the  most  pious  men  of  atl 
ages ;  and  to  whom  we  must  look  up 
§Sc  the  best  examples. 

From  whence  could  aiise  that  spirit 
of  persecution  which  has  followed  us 
down  to  the  present  day  ?  Why  are 
Free  Masons  arraigned  before  the  bar 
of  reUgious  societies,  for  no  other  red 
cause  nian  that  of  their  being  secret  ? 

We  must  be  permitted  to  answer, 
that  nothing  but  a  degree  of  supersti- 
ttoo,  ignorance,  or  a  want  of  the  know- 
ledge of  the  true  principles  of  Mason- 
ry, lias  kept  them  in  blindness. 

We  should  show  our  real  standing  as 
a  society : 

No  sectarian,  religious,  local,  or  po- 
litical opinions  are  interfered  with  by 
Free  Masons.  At  our  admission,  and 
on  the  very  threshold,  we  are  solemnly 
infonned,  that  Free  Masonry  will  not 
interfere  with  our  duty  to  God,  our 
opinions  of  religion,  or  our  allegiance 
to  our  country,  further  than  this :  we 
must  beliere  in  the  eternal  and  living 
God.  Here  the  Jew,  and  the  Gentile, 
as  well  as  the  Christian,  can  be  re- 
ceived. 

A  Society  thus  founded,  the  first 
corner  stone  whereof  is  a  belief  in^he 
eternal  God,  cannot  be  presumed  to  be 
irreligious,  immoral,  or  disorganising. 
To  square  our  actions  by  the  rule  of 
uprightness  ^  to  persevere  in  the  line 
ofoitrduty;  to  restrain  our  passions 
and  keep  them  widiin  the  compass  of 
propriety;  these  are  among  the  benign 
principles  of  our  order. 

Many  ask,  if  such  are  the  beneficial 
effects  of  Free  Masonry,  why  keep  it 
a  secret?  We  answer:  In  a  pecuniary 
point  of  view,  Charity,  one  of  the  main 
pillars  of  our  order,  begins  at  home: 
we  provide  for  our  own,  especially 
those  of  our  family :  we  have  all  made 
such  advances  as  entitle  us  to  assist- 
ance, wherever  we  may  go,  if  in  dis- 
tress :  we  must  possess  such  secrets  as 
^  will  enable  us  to  know  each  other,  in 
a  way  that. cannot  be  counterfeited. 
Still  Masonry  embraces  other  impor- 
tant objects;  and  had  it  not  been  strenu- 


ously preserved  as  a  secret,  it  cbuld 
never  nave  been  handed  down  to  us, 
unimpaired  by  length  of  time,  and 
uninfluenced  by  the  various  changes 
which  have  convulsed  this  troublesome 
worid:  it  would  not  have  withstood 
the  rise  and  fall'of  empires,  the  ruth- 
less hand  of  war,  and  the  still  more 
barbarous  persecutions  of  ignorance 
and  superstition.  I'he  blood  of  sacri- 
ficed thousands,  under  the  Papal  law, 
attest  the  importance  of  the  principles 
of  our  order,  whilst  it  defied  every 
stretch  of  human  ingenuity  to  suppress 
and  destroy  it.  Free  Masonry  lived 
through  blood ;  it  sustained  those  ter- 
rifying conflagrations ;  it  rode  triumph- 
ant on  the  floods;  and  we  enjoy  its 
salutary  influence,  under  the  protection 
of  God  and  our  country. 

One  of  the  great  duties  of  the  preach- 
ers of  the  gospel,  is,  to  seek  out  those 
to  whom  they  may  do  good.  If,  ui 
this,  their  great  work,  some  of  them 
should  turn  their  attention  to  a  Society^ 
which,  though  secret,  has  in  it  many 
souls  to  be  saved,  why  should  they  in- 
cur censure,  when,  by  becoming  con- 
nected with  it,  they  may  have  access 
to,  and  form  an  acC|uaintance  with,  so 
large  a  portion  of  the  human  family, 
to  whom  they  might  otherwise  for  ever 
have  remained  strangers  ?  Their  e^ 
forts  are  laudable,  and  will,  no  donbt, 
be  acknowledged  as  such  by  the  Grand 
Overseer,  where  we  shall  all  meet  in 
that  rest  designed  for  the  righteous. 

Brethren  of  the  Mawnic  family  y 

We  have  this  day,  by  travelling  the^ 
circle  of  another  year,  been  brought  t« 
a  point,  which  must  induce  us  to  pause, 
and  contemplate  the  merits  of  our  an- 
cient and  venerable  patron^  St.  John 
the  Baptist.  His  mission  was,toj>re* 
pare  the  way  and  make  the  path 
straight  for  the  ushering  in  of  the  glo- 
rious dispensation  under  which  we  live. 
No  great  or  important  undertaking  or 
change  can  be  properly  commenced  in 
the  religious  or  moral  world,  without 
due  preparation.  The  husbandman 
prepares  the  earth  fqrihereception  cC 

*^      *^  Digitized  by  VjO\J^ 


406 


ICASOKIC. 


the  coro,  vine^  and  olive :  the  minister 
should  be  prepared  with  meekness, 
piety,  and  useful  knowledge :  the  Ma- 
son should  be  prepared  in  heart  to 
receive  those  charitable  impressions 
which  characterize  all  worthy  men; 
he  should  learn  to  subdue  those  pas- 
sions which  impede  his  improvement 
in  the  sublime  order ;  he  should  have 
a  disposition  so  softened  by  the  mise- 
ries of  the  human  family,  that  he  could 
not  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  the  cries  of  the 
indigent;  to  him  the  widowed  heart 
might  pour  out  its  sorrows  and  distress, 
and  prefer  its  suit  with  confidence  and 
success. 

Had  none  ever  been  Masons  but  such 
as  were  thus  prepared,  the  tongue  of 
slander  would  have  been  for  ever  si- 
lenced, and  calumny  would,  have  sd- 
dom  reached  us ;  but  sorry  am  I  to  say, 
this  is  not  the  case.  The  door  of  ad- 
mission has  been  too  widely  thrown 
open;  some  have  entered,  actuated 
by  the  basest  designs ;  they  have  cal- 
culated on  obtaining  the  most  implicit 
confidence,  and  then  betraying  it. — 
Nevertheless,  some  of  those  have  been 
compelled  to  shudder,  and  shrink  back 
in  confusion;  convinced,  by  a  glance, 
of  the  sacred  purity  of  our  rights,  and 
struck  with  their  importance,  they 
have  been  ready  to  retire,  self-con- 
demned, from  the  consecrated  spot, 
and  blush  at  the  recollection.  Should 
any  have  the  hardihood  to  persevere, 
they  only  add  difficulty  to  danger;  for 
error  and  confusion  being  the  con- 
comitants of  vice,  they  will  not  be  able 
to  stand  the  test  by  which  they  will  be 
tried ;  and  if  discovered,  they  are  in- 
finitely more  to  be  despised  than  if 
they  never  had  been  Masons. 

Notwithstanding  Free  Masonry  has 
occasiomdly  suffered  t|y  the  admission 
of  improper  persons,  yet  it  is  a  pleasing 
reflection,  that  the  place  we  inhabit 
y^sa  but  a  few  years  since,  the  haunt  of 
wild  beasts,  and  the  savages  of  the 
wilderness ;  but  is  this  day  the  abode 
of  men  of  science,  morality,  and  broth- 
erly loye;  men  and  Masons,  to  whom 
fmure  ages  must  look  upas  the  founders 


and  promoters  of  that  institution  whtod 
they  may  perpetuate.  Hence  the  ne- 
cessity of  a  sure  foundation.  May 
Free  Masonry  be  established  among 
you,  on  the  rock  of  ages ;  may  iu 
moral  precepts  make  a  deep  and  last- 
ing impression  on  all  who  profess  it. 

Comp€mion8j 
Mark  well  the  progress  of  all  joor 
work,  that  it  mav  stand  the  test  of  the 
Grand  Overseer's  square ;  while  work- 
ing with  the  one  hand,  1^  the  sword  of 
faith  be  grasped  with  the  other,  to 
protect  your  sacred  banner.  Sobdiie 
MUred  and  ammonty,  overcome  atvy^ 
and  every  turbulent  passion^  that  you 
may  partake  of  the  hidden  manna^  and 
receive  the  white  stone,  in  which  the 
new  name  is  written.  Let  love  cement 
you;  and  charity  stand  pre-eminent 
before  you ;  receive  to  your  bosom  the 
forlorn  stranger ;  convert  the  unknown 
land  into  a  peaceful  home ;  pour  the 
balsam  of  consolation  into  the  afflicted 
heart ;  ward  ofi*  the  weapons  of  adver- 
sity ;  and  bestow  on  them  the  best  o( 
gifts,  timely  admonition  and  advice. 
And  finally,  my  brethren,  when  our 
work  shall  be  completed  here  below, 
and  the  key  shall  be  found  in  the  ark 
of  time;  when  the  last  trump  shall 
sound,  and  the  proclamation  of  the 
King  of  Heaven  shall  relieve  us  from 
the  captivity  of  the  grave,  and  we  are 
invited  to  the  sanctuary  of  eternal  rest; 
may  we  be  prepared  to  trace  our  true 
genealogy,  and  be  possessed  of  those 
essential  virtues  which  will  give  us  ad- 
mittance within  the  vail  of  white,  there 
to  be  presented  to  the  grand  comicil 
of  imgeb,  where  the  eter^  high  priest 
presides.    Amen  and  Amen* 


PRESENT  OR  PAST  MASTER'S  MBCttBE,^ 
FJFTH  LECTURE. 
This  degree  is  highly  importtfit, 
and  should  be  well  understood  by  erery 
master  of  a  Lodge,  It  treats  ^  the 
government  fii  our  fraternity,  the  dis- 
position of  our  officers,  and  etoddMi 
their  requisite  cionlificatlons.  It  shows 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MASONIC. 


407 


ibe  varidbs  ceremonies  of  opening  and 
closing  Lodges  in  the  preceding  de- 
grees, at  laying  the  foundation  stones 
of  public  structures,  at  dedications,  and 
at  funerals ;  also  the  fornas  of  instal- 
lation and  consecration,  both  in  the 
grand  and  subordinate  lodges ;  all  of 
which  will  be  found  illustrated,  in  the 
third  and  fourth  numbers  of  this  work. 
In  No.  3,  page  81—87  5  No.  4,  page 
121—125. 

MOST  EXCELLENT  MASTEk's  DEGBEE. 
SIXTH  tECTURE. 

None  but  such  as  have  served  a 
futhful  apprenticeship,  and  laboured 
as  fellow-crafts,  a  sufficient  length  of 
lime  to  entitle  them  to  take  rank  among 
the  master  workmen ;  none  but  those 
who  have  received  the  indelible  mark, 
whose  work  has  passed,  with  approba- 
tion, the  inspection  of  the  master  over- 
seer, and  who  by  the  unanimous  suf- 
frages of  their  brethren,  have  been 
seated  in  the  Oriental  Chair,  can  be 
admitted  to  this  degree. 

When  the  temple  at  Jerusalem  was 
torooleted,  and  the  capstone  celebrated 
by  the  fraternity.  Grand  Master  Solo- 
mon admitted  none  to  this  honour,  but 
those  who  by  their  virtue,  skill,  and  in- 
flexible integrity,  had  proved  them- 
selves worthy,  and  were  coinplete  mas- 
ters of  their  profession.  The  duties 
incumbent  on  every  brother  who  is  ad- 
mitted to  the  degree  of  a  most  excel- 
lent master,  are  such  as  to  render  it 
absolutely  necessary  that  he  should  be 
perfectly  acquainted  with  all  the  pre- 
ceding degrees. 

The  (Momng  psalm  is  read  or  xe- 
peatedy  at  the  time  of  opening  the 
lodge. 

PSALM  xxiv. 

<<Theeartb  b  the  LonFs,and  the 
fulness  thered*;  the  world,  and  they 
that  dwdl  therein.  For  he  bath  foun- 
ded it  upon  the  seas,  and  established 
iiopoo  the  floodi.  Who  shall  ascend 
ioto  the  hilt  of  the  Lord  ?  and  who 
dHdlstaodm  his  holy  plaoe?  Hethat^ 
hath  cletfihaadij  ipd  a  fmt  heart' 


who  hath  not  lifted  up  his  soul  unto 
vanity,  nor  sworn  deceitfully.  He 
shall  receive  the  blessing  from  the 
Lord,  and  righteousness  from  the  God 
of  his  salvation.  This  is  the  genera- 
tion of  them  that  seek  him,  that  seek 
thy  face,  O  Jacob.  Selah.  Lift  up 
your  heads,  O  ye  gates,  and  be  ye  lift- 
ed up,  ye  everlasting  doors,  and  the 
King  of  Glory  shall  come  in.  Who  is 
this  King  of  Glory  ?  the  Lord,  strong 
and  mighty,  the  Lord,  mighty  in  bat- 
tle. Lift  up  your  heads,  O  ye  gates, 
even  lift  them  up,  ye  everlasting  doors, 
and  the  King  of  Glory  shall  come  in. 
Who  is  this  King  of  Glory  ?  the  Lord 
of  Hosts,  he  is  the  King  of  Glory. 

,or  ret 
receiving 


Selah." 

The  following  Psalm  is  read, 
cited,  during  the  ceremony  of  rec 
a  candidate : 

FSALM  cxxii. 

^'I  was  glad  when  they  said  unto 
me,  let  us  go  into  the  house  of  the 
Lord.  Our  feet  shall  stand  within  thy 
gates,  O  Jerusalem.  Jerusalem  is 
builded  as  a  city  that  is  compact  to- 
gether: whither  the  tribes  go  up,  the 
tribes  of  the  Lord,  unto  tha  testimony 
of  Israel,  to  give  thanks  unto  the  name 
of  the  Lord.  For  there  are  set  thrones 
of  judgment,  die  thrones  of  the  house 
of  David. 

<<  Pray  for  the  peace  of  Jerusalem ; 
tliey  shall  prosper  that  love  thee. 
Peace  be  within  thy  walls,  and  pros- 
perity within  thy  palaces.  For  mv 
brethren  and  companions'  sakes,  I  \^m 
now  say,  peace  be  within  thee.  Be* 
cause  of  the  house  of  the  Lord  our 
God,  I  will  seek  thy  good." 

The  sixth  chapter  of  the  second 
Chronicles  is  also  occasionally  intro- 
duced, accompanied  wtdi  solemn  cere- 
monies. 
Charge  to  a  Brother,  who  is  received 

and  acknowtedged  oi  a  Most  Ex* 

cellent  Master, 
'^Brothkb^ 

^  Your  admittance  to  this  degree  of 
I  MafODry,is  a  pioof  of  the  goad  opin- 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


40d 


MASOmC.' 


ion  the  brethren  of  this  lodge  entertain 
of  your  Masonic  abilities.  Let  this 
consideration  induce  you  to  be  careful 
of  forfeiting,  by  misconduct  and  inat- 
tention to  our  rules,  that  esteem  which 
has  raised  you  to  the  rank  you  now 
possess. 

*^  It  is  one  of  your  great  duties,  as  a 
roost  excellent  master,  to  dispense  light 
and  truth  to  the  uninformed  Mason ; 
and  1  need  not  remind  you  of  the  im- 
possibility of  complying  with  this  ob- 
ligation without  possessing  an  accurate 
acquaintance  with  the  lectures  of  each 
degree. 

"  If  you  wte  not  already  completely 
conversant  in  all  the  degrees  heretofore 
conferred  on  you,  remember,  .that  an 
indulgence,  prompted  bv  a  belief  that 
you  will  apply  yourself  with  double 
diligence  to  make  yotnrself  so,  has  in- 
duced the  brethren -to  accept  you. 

"Let  it  therefore  be  your  unremit- 
ting study  to  acquire  such  a  degree  of 
knowledge  and  information  as  shall 
enable  you  to  discharge  with  propriety 
the  various  duties  incumbent  on  yon, 
and  to  preserve  unsullied  the  title  now 
conferred  upon  you  of  a  Most  Excel- 
lent Master.^ 

The   following   song   is  solemnly 
.   sang. 

MOST  EXCELLENT  MASTER'S  SONG. 

By  Brother  T.  S.  WM. 

All  hail  to  the  Dioming 
That  bids  ns  rejoice  j 
The  temple's  completed, 
£xalt  high  each  voiee ; 
The  caB-stone  is  finish*d, 

Our  labour  b  o*er ; 
The  sound  of  the  gavel 
aiiallhail  us  no  molPe. 
To  the  Power  Almighty  who  ever  has 

guided 
The  tribes  of  old  Israeli  exalting  their  fame ; 
To  him  who  hath  govem'd  our  hearts 

undivided, 
i/9V^  send  forth  our  voices,  to  praise  hU 
great  name. 

Companions,  assembW 

Qa  this  joyfal  da^, 
Th*  occanon  Is  glorioof , 

Hie  key-stone  to  lay ; 


FolfiU'd  is  the  promisfe, 

By  the  Avcocirr  of  Days, 

To  bring  forth  the  cap-stone, 

With  shouting  and  praise. 

CeremonUt. 

There^s  bo  more  occasion  for  level  or 

plumb-line, 
For  trowel  or  gavel,  for  compass,  or  square; 
Our  works  are  completed,  the  ark  safely 

seated, 
And  we  diall  be  greeted  as  woikflMn  moA 
rare. 

Now  those  that  are  worthv. 
Our  toils  who  have  shared. 
And  prov'd  themselves  faithful, 

Shall  meet  their  reward. 
Their  virtue  and  knowledge. 

Industry  and  skill, 
Have  our  approbation, 
Have  gain*d  our  good  will. 
We  accept  and  receive  them  most  eieelleat 

masters. 
Invested  with   honours,   and   power  to 

preside ; 
Amongit    worthy    craftsmen,   wherever 

assembled, 
The  knowledge  of  Mason's  to  spread  m 
and  wide. 

AXMIGHTT  JbBOTAB, 

Descend  now,  and  fill 
Thb  lodge  with  thy  glory. 

Our  hearts  with  good  vHU! 
Preside  at  our  meetings, 

Assist  us  to  find 
True  pleasure  in  teaching 
Good  will  to  mankinoT 
Thy  wisdom  inspired  the  great  InsHtatkia, 
Thy  strength  shall  support  It,  till  natat 

expire ; 
And  when  the  creation  shall  fidl  into  rria, 
Its  beauty  shall  rise,  through  tiie  midst  of 
the  fire! 

The  ceremony  closes  with  the  ink' 
lowing  passages  of  scripture. 

2  Chron.  vii,  1—4. 
<<  Nowy  when  SoloiiioB  had  made  aa 
end  of  psayiag,  Um  M  oame  dava 
from  heaven,  and  connimed  the  bant 
(Bering  and  the  sacrifices;  and  die 
gloiy  of  the  Lord  filled  the  lioiise. 
And  die  priesu  oemld  not  enter  iato  the 
house  of  die  Lord,  beeauae  die  |^ 
of  die  Lord  had  fiUed  dm  Lcid% 


And  whea  att  die  thUdraa  of 
saw  how  the  fife  came  dow% 
glory  of  tile  LMlapendM 
tMv^  dMsoaelfii  widi  ' 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MASONIC. 


409 


the  ground  upon  the  pavement,  and 
worshif>ped,  and  praised  the  Lord, 
saying,  For  he  is  good ;  tor  his  mercy 
eodareth  for  ever." 

PSALM  cxj^xiv. 

<<  Behold,  bless  ye  the  Lord,  all  ye 
servants  of  the  Lord,  which  by  night 
stand  in  the  house  of  the  Lord.  Lift 
up  your  hands  in  the  sanctuary,  and 
bless  the  Lord.  The  Lord,  that  made 
heaven  and  earth,  bless  thee  out  of 
Zion.'' 


THE  CHRISTIAN  MASON. 
NO.  L 
Haili  mystic  art,  in  mercy  given, 
To  light  the  path  which  leads  to  Heaven. 

As  the  origin,  principles,  and  end  of 
Masonkt,  are  subjects  of  deep  and 
solemn  import  to  the  initiated,  and  of 
no  inconsiderable  interest  to  others,  a 
brotlier  may*certaraly  be  indulged  in 
making  an  humble  attempt,  to  throw 
<m  them  a  few  scattered  rays  of  such 
light  as  he  possesses.  For  though  all 
light  b  derived  from  one  great  lumina- 
ry, h  may  be  so  reflected  from  a  recip- 
ient object,  as  to  irradiate  recesses  m- 
accessible  to  a  direct  emanation. 

I  shall  therefore  attempt,  in  a  series 
of  numbers,  to  show  that  the  origin  of 
Masonry  Is  divine ;  that  its  principles 
are  spiritual,  and  that  iu  end  is  salva- 
tion. If  I  succeed,  as  I  trust  I  shall, 
I  may  be  instrumental  in  removing  the 
dooto  and  prejudices  of  our  opponents, 
and  of  elevating  the  dignity  of  our  art, 
in  the  estimation  of  its  professors.  In 
panoing  this  intention,  however,  I 
ifaall  deviate  from  the  plan  of  all  who 
have  written  on  the  subject  before  me, 
and  leaving  the  porch  of  the  temple, 
penetrate^  with  aU  doe  reverence,  into 
the  sanctities  of  its  interior^  where,  if 
the  reader  will  accompany  me,  he  shall 
cfe  long,  become  convinced  of  the  fol- 
lowing f^t,  as  expressed  in  the  lan- 
gwe  of  the  Rev.  Sakm  Town,  vis : 
**  "fte  principles  of  Speculative  Free 
maonry  have  the  same  co-eteranl  aad 
Pdd 


unshaken  foundation — contain  and  In- 
culcate, in  substance,  the  same  truths^ 
and  propose  the  same  ultimate  end,  as 
the  doctrines  of  Christianity  taught  by 
divine  revelation.'^ 

It  is  a  truth  taughtin  thd  holy  scrip* 
tures  throughout,  and  abundantly  con- 
firmed by  reason  and  experience,  that 
mankind  have  sadly  degenerated  from 
the  state  in  which  they  were  originally 
created,  and  in  which  the  Great  Archi- 
tect of  the  Universe  pronounced  thenpi 
"  GOOD.''  It  is  also  a  truth,  founded 
on,  and  confirmed  by  the  same  testi- 
mony, that  every  operation  and  dispen- 
sation of  Divine  Providence  is  intended 
and  calculated  to  obviate  the  miserable 
eflbcts  of  that  lamentable  apostacy. 

Innumerable  are  the  means  which 
Omnipotence  has  furnished  for  our  re- 
formntion ;  and  nothing  but  a  perver- 
sion and  prostitution  of  the  powers 
which  he  is  continuailly  giving  us  for 
retracing  the  path  of  declension,  can 
defeat  the  merciful  intention  of  the 
Divine  Giver,  which  is  to  lead  us  bacl^ 
to  our  lost  paradise,  and  reinstate  us 
In  our  primitive  happy  condition.  To 
efibct  this  gracious  purpose  were  the 
scriptiires  written,  redemption  wrought, 
Masonry  instituted,  and  a  thousand 
other  means  of  grace  afforded. 

But  notwithstending  the  great  mul- 
tiplicity and  infinite  variety  of  those 
means  which  have  been  graciously  pro- 
vided to  effect  our  reformation  and  re- 
storation, there  is  one  wonderful  trait 
that  cliaracterizes  the  whole,  and  can 
be  traced  through  them  all — each  con- 
taining within  itself  the  same  reproof 
and  the  same  instruction.  For  whether 
we  look  to  the  Scripture,  or  to  reason, 
to  the  heavens,  or  to  the  earth,  to 
the  dispensations  of  Providence,  or  to 
the  operations  of  nature,  we  shall  find 
a  wonderful  consistency  and  harmony 
in  so  many  various  modes  of  inculca- 
ting the  same  truth — that  to  aberrate 
from  order  b  to  depart  from  happiness, 
and  that  to  return  U>  the  one,  is  ta 
enjoy  the  other. 

Were  this,  however,  all  that  they 
teach,  we  shoi^ld  be  little  benefitted  by 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


410 


MASONIC* 


the  study*  iBut  tliey  not  merely  rep- 
resent to  us  the  value  of  what  ue  have 
tost  3  they  go  much  further,  and  in- 
struct us  how  to  regain  it,  by  pointing 
out  the  direct  path,  and  leading  us  in 
it,  step  by  step,  so  long  as  we  will  con- 
sent to  follow.  That  Masonry  was 
given  by  God  to  man,  for  this  express 
purpose,  shall  be  made  to  appear 
hereafter. 

But  the  most  grand,  sublime,  and 
important  of  all  the  means  appointed 
for  our  reformation — that  from  which 
all  others  are  derived,  and  to  which 
they  are  all  subordinate,  is  the  Word 
of  God.  This  is  the.  great  source  and 
fountain  from  which  all  truth  directly 
emanates,  Thowever  diversely  it  may 
afterwards  oe  reflected)  whether  spir- 
itual, or  natural;  theological,  or  scien- 
tific.  Nay,  however  bold  may  appear 
the  assertion,  I  am  prepared  to  prove 
that  there  is  not,  nor  ever  has  beien  in 
any  age  of  the  world,  a  single  useful 
art  or  science,  but  its  origin  may  be 
^^ced  to  divine  revelation.  It  is  a 
inistakeki  idea  to  suppose,  that  the 
advantages  of  such  revelation,  (even  in 
a  natural  point  of  view,]  have  been 
confined  to  Jews  and  Christians.  Mil- 
lions, who  never  beard  of  the  God  of 
Israel,  or  the  Christian  Redeemer, 
have  been  incalculably  benefitted  by 
the  religion  of  each.  Civilization,  and 
its  attendant  blessings,  would  never 
have  blessed  any  portion  of  mankind, 
had  human  reason,  unaided  by  reve- 
lation, been  the  sole  director  of  human 
operations  ;  and  those  nations  and 
tribes,  who  are  now  the  most  remote 
from  civilisation,  are  those  who  have 
been  the  farthest  removed  from  the 
enlightening  sphere  of  divine  truth. 

"file  Greeks  and  Romans,  in  their 
most  elevated  state  of  learning  and 
refinement,  were  totally  unconscious 
that  all  their  wisdom,  learning,  and 
arts,  were  attributable  to  divine  reve- 
lation; for  though  they  worshipped 
some  hundreds  of  divine  attributes,  in 
the  form  of  as  many  gods,  yet  every 
smgle  or  complex  idea  of  moral  recti- 
tude which  they  poiaessed,  was  de- 


rived from  tiie  revelation  of  our  own 
great  Lawgiver ;  who  under  diflietent 
characters,  has  ever  been  makii^  such 
dispensations  and  manifestations  of 
truth  to  his  fallen  creatures,  as  were 
best  adapted  to  their  various  states 
and  capacities.  But  though  it  is  in- 
sisted that  the  fovntuin  is  the  same, 
Tas  there  is,  and  can  be,  but  on? 
fountain  of  wisdom,)  yet  it  is  conceded 
that  the  stream  approached  tfaem 
through  a  long  and  circuitous  ch»imel, 
and  had  become  more  or  less  poUoted 
by  the  impure  medium  through  which 
it  had  passed.  Rome  was  indebted  to 
Greece,  and  Greece  to  Egypt,  who 
derived  all  her  intellectual  treasures 
from  the  descendants  of  a  fiuBily  who 
were  undoubtedly  versed  in  au  the 
sciences  of  an  antediluvian  world, 
which  had  originally  been  revealed  to 
man  by  God  himself,  as  was  the  art 
of  agriculture  to  Adaiif.  The  bieio- 
glyphics,  symbols,  and  mystical  reli- 
gious rites  of  the  ancieat  Egyptiaas, 
afford  strong  presumptive  evidence  of 
the  perversion  of  very  subline  spiricoal 
mysteries,  which  had  been  perfectly 
intelligible  to  the  antediluvians,  but  the 
true  end  and  meaning  of  which  bad 
been  gradually  lost  sight  of  by  suc- 
cessive generations.  What  a  wide 
field  is  here  open  for  vague  coojectore 
to  all  who  are  not  versed  in  the  mya- 
teries  of  Masonry!  But  Masooiy 
teaches  us  that  the  sublimest  scieaoe 
which  had  thus  been  retained  iq  ei- 
temal  symbols,  the  genuine  intenal 
meaning  of  which  had  been  fotgoltea 
or  perverted,  was  the  scieiice  of  cii^ 
respoadences,  or  the  art  of  conlcai- 
plating  spiritual  subjects  in  aataril 
forms,  of  perceiving  every  pbyaical 
and  material  object  to  be  a  perfMi 
type  or  figure  of  some  inteUecttnl  m 
moral  principle,  accordii^  to  tbe  idea 
of  St.  Paul,  where  he  says,  <<  Tlie  ia> 
visiMe  thii^  of  Him  from  the  < 
of  the  worki,  are  clearly  i 
understood  by  the  things  that  i 
even  his  eternal  power  and  GodheadL* 
But  more  of  this  in  zoto&  future 
her. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MA80mC. 


411 


One  tbii^  IS  certain,  that  the  learned 
meo  of  Greece  derived  all  their  higher 
hraoches  of  science  from  Egypt — 
Thither  went  the  philosophers  of 
Greece  in  pursuit  of  knowledge — ^to 
the  counti^^so  long  the  residence  of 
the  cho§en  people,  anri  whose  memora- 
ble exodus  might  well  have  excited 
the  attention,  and  employed  the  pens 
of  the  Magi  of  Egypt.  Residing,  as 
the  Jewish  people  were,  in  the  imme- 
diate aeighbourhood  of  the  Pharaohs, 
and  bordering  on  that  commercial  peo- 
l^e  the  Tyrians,  the  nature  and  prin- 
dples  of  theur  theocracy  could  not  be 
unknown  to  so  inquisitive  a  people  as 
the  Gre-'ks,*  who,  we  are  told,  were 
ever  on  the  search  for  knowledge,  and 
inqniriog  into  the  nature  and  principles 
of  every  new  thing.  Can  it  be  sup- 
posed then  that  they  were  ignorant  of 
the  Jewish  history,  or  religiou  ?  They 
oiiist  have  been  partially  acquainted 
with  the  leading  principles  of  both^ 
the  existence  of  One  Supreme  Being; 
the  Decalogue;  the  conquest  of  Canaan, 
&C.  Such  memorable  circumstances 
could  not  be  wholly  unknown  to  the 
Socratet,  Platos,  and  Aristotles  of 
Greece.  If  this  be  admitted,  one  con- 
sequence will  follow,  that  in  place  of 
wondering  at  the  advances  made  by 
the  phik)M>phers  in  moral  knowledge, 
it  oi^t  rather  to  surprise  us  that  they 
wmoi  no  further ;  for  such  a  decisive 
evidence  as  was  given  to  the  Jews,  in 
proof  of  the  t|uth  of  their  levelatkm, 
mtist  have  imparted  a  splendour  to 
tfadr  tencfts  wnich  the  pagans  could 
not  overlook.  The  sanction  afforded 
to  the  Greek  theist8,by  such  a  weighty 
precedent,  woold  have  its  force,  and 
assist  the  ffieodfl  of  truth  in  the  sup- 
pon  of  docifiitcn  .^ch  they  were 
saaumutodF^^m  and  divulge,  as  for 
as  their  poBtie^l  system  wmUd  admif . 
Is  it  not  then  to  be  presumed  that  the 
most  essential  ideas  towajrds  the  forma- 
tion of  systems  for  the  oaaintenance  of 
political,  eivit,  and  moral  order,  in 
«very  nation  under  heaven,  are  bor- 

*  Acts  xrii.  2K 


rowed  from  revelation,  and  not  the 
ordinary  product  of  intuitive  percep- 
tion ?  In  my  next  I  shall  confine  my- 
self more  particularly  to  the  spirituali- 
ty of  Mason&y* 

THE  CHRISTIAN  MASON. 
NO.  II. 

The  Great  Architect,  and  Grand 
Master  of  the  Universe,  condescends 
to  act  through  subordinate  instrumenU^ 
appointed  for  the  purpose  by  Divine 
Wisdom ;  aiKl  however  various  in  dC" 
gree  such  means  may  be,  they  never- 
theless all  act  upon  one  pkuij  and  all 
their  operations  tend  to  the  same  end. 
Thus  the  Holy  Word,  the  angels  in 
Heaven,  and  the  men  on  earth,  are  all 
instrumental  agents,  (in  their  respec- 
tive degrees  j)\n  promoting  the  accom- 
plishment of  one  Divine  purpose,  viz. 
the  rehuUdiMg  of  that  temple  which 
was  destroyed  by  the  fall.  For  after 
that  lamentable  event,  the  soul  of  man 
ceased  to  be  the  habitation  of  the  liv^ 
ing  GrQd,but  became  a  ^4^n  of  thieves,' 
and  ^  the  cage  of  unclean  and  filthy 
birds.' 

Now,  the  rebuilding  of  this  spiritual 
edifice,  or  the  regeneration  of  man,  ac- 
cording to  the  eternal  and  immutable 
laws  of  Divine  Obdsr,  must  proceed 
on  the  same  plan  that  governed  his 
original  creatum,  and  the  construction 
of  the  whole  universe ;  and  as  God  is 
oncy  so  is  the  plan  of  his  operations,  in 
the  least  as  well  as  the  greatest  of  his 
works;  in  singulars  and  particulars, 
as  well  as  in  generals.  Forasaporf 
contains  within  itself  the  constituent 
principles  of  the  tBhoie^  so  every  move- 
ment in  the  minutest  circle  of  obbbb 
bears  an  exact  correspondence  to  the 
most  stupendous  in  the  greatest. — 
Therefore  the  process  of  buildii^  the 
temple  at  Jerusalem,  is  a  perfect  figure 
and  representation  (to  miniature)  of 
the  creation  of  the  universe,  cind  both 
correspond  to  the  rebuilding,  recrea- 
tion, or  regeneration  of  Man.  By 
keeping  this  fact  in  view,  we  shall 
soon  be  enabled  to^  perceive  that  the 

Digitized  by  VjOOQiC 


412 


MASONIC. 


same  correspondenoc  can  be  traced, 
not  only  through,  ever^  orb  in  the  uni- 
verse, but  through  every  object,  down 
to  the  least,  which  can  be  found  on  the 
one  we  inhabit.  It  will  then  be  seen 
that  each  individual  man  is  a  micro- 
com  or  little  world  in  himself— the 
universe  in  miniature.  For  every,  the 
least  particular  appertaining  to  man, 
is  but  the  miniature  image  of  some 
corresponding  particular  appertaining 
to  the  universe,  that  grand  and  mag- 
nificent temple  of  Jehovah. 

In  tracing,  from  link  to  link,  this 
wonderful  and  mysterious  chain  which 
connects  the  minutest  particle  of  cre- 
ated matter  with  its  Creator,  and  Him- 
self with  the  whole,  we  shall  perceive 
the  propriety  of  that  Scripture  lan- 
guage which  not  only  compares  a  good 
man  to  a  temple^  but  actually  pro- 
nounces him  to  be  such.     As  in  the 
third  chapter  of  Paul's  first  Epistle  to 
the  Corinthians,  verse  16;  the  sixth 
chapter  of  his  second  Epistle  to  the 
me,  verse  16;  and  various  other 
laces. 
But  though  the  Great  Creator  of  all 
things  condescends  to  dwell  in  these 
inferior  temples  of  flesh  and  blood,  yet, 
OS  Solomon  says  in  his  inimitable  con- 
secration prayer, "  the  Heaven  of  Hea- 
vens cannot  contain  him."     His  pre- 
sence fills  all    space — his   influence 
pervades  all  substances ;  and  wherever 
a  due  reception  of  such  Divine  emana- 
tion is  not  prevented  by  evil,  tliere  is 
his  temple.     Heaven,  the  universe,  the 
world  we  hihabit,  with  its  animal,  vege- 
table, and  mineral  kingdoms,  together 
with  all  the  particulars  of  each,  derive 
their  existence  and  subsistence  from 
his  life  giving  presence;  and  these 
were  all  created  for  the  sake  of  his 
darling  creature,  Man  ;  who,  while  he 
retained  the  Divine  image  and  like- 
ness, was  the  pure  temple  in  which  his 
Creator  peculiarly  delighted  to  dwell. 
But  man  fell— the  temple  was  de- 
stroyed, and  not  one  stone  was  left 
upon  another,  but  ril  was  thrown  down. 
To  aid  us  in  rehuildbug  it,  the  heaven- 
ly mysteries  of  Masonry  were  revealed 


to  man;  and,  as  before  stated,  the 
whole  process  of  rebuilding  it,  (or  the 
whole  process  of  regeneration)  corres- 
ponds to  the  creation  of  the  heaven 
and  tlie  earth.  '<  And  the  earth  was 
without /omt,  and  void — and  darkness 
was  upon  the  faco  of  the  deep— and 
the  Spirit  of  God  moved  upon  the  face 
of  the  waters.  And  God  said,  Lef 
there  he  Light,  and  there  was  Liobt.^ 
The  building  of  the  ark  by  Noah — the 
tabernacle  by  Moses,  and  the  temple 
by  Solomon,  were  all  types,  6gore8, 
and  correspondent  images  of  the  same 
wonderful  work. 

As  a  tmly  penitent  man  advances 
in  his  pilgrimage  from  death  unu^life — 
from  Egypt  to  Canaan — from  a  state 
of  sin  and  misery,  to  a  state  of  good- 
ness and  happiness,  he  finds  his  pro- 
gress marked  by  various  stages  or  de^ 
grees,  which  serve  as  so  many  lamd 
marksy  encouraging  him  with  hope  and 
confidence  lo  persevere  in  his  jonmey. 
Each  of  these  stages  or  degrees  is  re- 
presented by  a  corresponding  degree 
in  Masonry  (as  it  is  also  by  each  par- 
ticular day  in  creation)  iratil  the  spi- 
ritual traveller  attains  to  the  sevemih-^ 
when  his  pilgrimage  termuiates  in 
peace  and  rest.  Regeneration  is  ac- 
complished— the  temple  is  completed, 
and  the  Great  Architect,  who  "  works 
in  us  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  own  good 
pleasure,''  and  without  whom  <'  we  caa 
do  nothing,"  may  be  said,  with  great 
propriety,  ^  to  re9t  from  his  viZtkJ* 
Such  a  state  is  the  teventk  day — a 
Sabbath — when  the  implements  of  la- 
bour are  kid  aside. 

Before  I  descend,  however,  to  aay 
further  particulars  in  showing  die  jusc 
and  perfect  agreeAent  between  type* 
and  aiUitypesy  1  beg«  ^^ve  to  make  a 
few  observations  bv  ^f  of  illustrating 
what  was  merely  hinted  at  above,  otz. 
that  in  all  things,  both  physical  aad 
moral,  natural  and  roiritual-— ^apart 
contains  within  itself  all  th^  cooMkoeot 
principles  of  the  wAofe  ;"  as  a  right  «iii- 
derstandmg  cf  this  prt^potitioo  wiH 
pave  the  way  for  a  more  particolar  in- 
vestigatioa  of  our  sttb)act 

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MA80KIC. 


413 


ft  has  been  an  axiom  of  phUoso- 
phen,  that  <^  particular  representa- 
tkm  are  so  many  images  of  the  gener-^ 
al,  and  generals  of  particulars  which 
ire  das^  under  them.''  Thus,  as 
tbere  are  four  seasons  in  the  year,  so 
there  are  in  each  four  corresponding 
intervals  of  time,  vis.  morning,  noon, 
eveaiag,  and  night.  The  four  inter- 
vals of  the  year  are  represented  in 
tbeie  (bur  times  of  the  day,  and  corres- 
pond thereto ;  the  morning  to  spring, 
the  mid-day  to  summer,  the  evening 
to  autumn,  and  the  night  to  winter. 
Thus  not  only  the  diversities  of  days 
represent  themselves  in  the  diversities 
of  years,  but  also  the  least  minute  of  a 
day;  for  whatever  constitutes  the  ug' 
gregate  or  tehole  of  time  in  a  year's 
space  as  a  generaij  must  have  the 
smallest  interval  ranged  in  its  proper 
place,  as  one  of  the  porltctf/ors  con- 
ititutittg  it,  in  like  manner,  every  two 
boors  of  every  day  corresponds  to  itjs 
month,  for  there  are  twelve  times  two 
hours  in  every  day,  as  there  are  twelve 
montlis  in  the  year.  Those  in  the 
noming  represent  the  vernal  or  spring 
months:  tnose  in  the  afternoon  the 
summer  months :  those  at  niffht  the  au- 
tumnal and  winter  months.  For 
the  warmth  of  spring  and  heat  of  sum- 
mer, correspond  to  the  twelve  hours 
of  the  i2ay :  and  the  cold  and  darkness 
of  autumn  and  winter,  correspond  to 
those  of  the  night.  If  we  go  further, 
like  correspondences  occur  in  their 
kssar  divisions,  as  the  first  minutes  of 
every  hour  with  the  foorthpart  of  any 
day,  and  soon. 

What  is  here  predicated  of  ftme, 
will  apply  with  equal  propriety  to 
every  created  thii^  in  the  universe, 
irom  the  greatest  to  the  smallest.-^ 
Hence  the  ancients  were  in  the  habit 
of  considering  every  indtvidual  man  as 
a  MMyocoifii  or  little  worid;  for  this 
natmnal  or  material  worid  proceeds, 
(like  Ha  iohabitaats)  derivatively  from 
the  spiritual  world,  and  only  contin- 
ues to  subsift  by  a  constant  collection 
and  correapondenoe  therewith.  It  is 
nsa  sinritaii  thing  fanned  into  a  palpa- 


ble and  material  thing — or  as  an  es- 
sence clothing  itself  with  a  form^-or 
as  a  soul  making  to  itself  a  body — 
and  this  in  a  sense  perfectly  consist- 
ent with  the  Mosaic  account  of  the 
creation.  And  as  man  is  not  only  an 
image  of  the  material  world,  but  (as 
to  his  soul)  an  image  also  of  the  spir- 
itual world,  so  is  the  material  world 
of  consequence  an  image  of  the  spiritual 
world ;  according  to  the  adage  of  the 
renowned  Hermes  Trismegistus :  Ow- 
nia  que  in  OBliSy  sunt  in  terri$  territ- 
tri  modo;  omnis  qua  in  terri$,  $um 
in  ccdif  ccelegti  modo. 

The  grand  science  which  formed 
the  basis  of  antediluvian  Masonry, 
was  the  science  of  Correspondence,  or 
the  science  of  reading  the  word  of 
God  in  the  objects  of  creation.  For 
the  holy  Woan  as  to  its  essence,  is 
coeval  with  God  himself,  and  was 
first  written  on  the  page  of  creation — 
invisible  things  being  understood  by 
the  things  that  were  made.  But  after 
the  fall,  when  sin  bad  so  clouded  the 
human  intellect  as  to  shut  out  all  im- 
mediate spiritual  light,  the  Almighty 
permitted  it  to  be  gradually  transcri- 
bed, by  inspired  men,  for  the  use  of 
the  fallen  race — first  in  Meroglyphictj 
and  afterwards  in  the  Hebrew  lan- 
guase. 

Men  had  lost  this  true  original  lan- 
guage of  nature  (with  a  few  exceptions) 
before  the  flood,  even  among  the  pos- 
terity of  Seth  and  Enoch ;  bit  to  pre- 
vent its  being  for  ever  totally  lost,  the 
pious  Enoch  had  early  begun  his  tran- 
script in  hieroglffphicSy  by  which  it  was 
preserved  for  the  benefit  of  such  post- 
diluvians  as  would  not  be  incapacita- 
ted by  evil  for  the  reception  of  spurit- 
ual  light.  The  early  ancients,  after 
the  flood  had  some  knowledge  of  this 
wonderful  science  derived  down  to 
them  by  tradition  though  without  any 
perception  of  it  in  themselves;  and  it 
remainedlongest  among  the  Egyptians, 
of  which  iiy^  hieroglyphics  J  or  sacred 
sculptures  were  a  principal  part :  but 
by  di^prees  tbey  became  so  fiur  corrupt- 
ed and  blind,  as  to  lose  sight  of  tne 

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414 


MAfMtlC. 


things  represented,  and  to  worship 
their  represenutives  or  images-  Hence 
the  origin  of  their  foolish  iddlatry  of 
beasts^  birds,  fishes  and  vegetables. 


GRArO)  LODGE  OF  NEW- YORK. 

The  grand  lodge  of  this  state,  com- 
menced iu  annual  communication,  at 
Tammany  Hall,  in  the  city  of  Newr. 
York,  on  the  first  Wednesday  in  June 
last,  and  continued  its  session  from  day 
to  day  (Sunday  excepted)  till  the  Mon- 
day following,  when  the  lodge  was 
dosed.  Strange  as  it  may  appear,  to 
our  distant  brethren,  we  have  received 
BO  official  communication  on  the  sub- 
ject, and  of  course,  can  give  no  intelli- 
gence of  their  proceedings.  We  will, 
however,  venture  to  state,  from  respect- 
able authority,  that,  our  most  worship- 
ful brother  Daniel  D.  Tompkins,  Vice 
President  of  the  United  States,  was  re- 
elected grand  master,  and  our  worship-^ 
ful  brother  John  Brush,  £sq.  of  Pough- 
'  keepsie,  was  elected  deputy  grand 
master;  and  further  we  say  not. 

AARON*S  BAND. 
At  the  annual  meeting  of  Aaron's 
Band  of  Royal  priesthood,  held  at  St. 
John's  HaU,  New-York,  May  6th, 
1821,  the  following  members  were 
appointed  to  office : 

B.  R.  Hosea  Dodge,  7th  H.  P. 
B.  W.  Peck,  6th  H.  P. 
Joel  Jones,  5th  H.  P. 
Oerret  Morgan,  4th  H.  P. 
Silas  Lyon,  Sd  H.  P. 
GairBfanchard,2dH.P. 
Gerrit  Lansing,  Ist  H.  P. 
William  F.  I^att,  Seci^tary, 
John  Utt,  Guard. 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ALL  DENOMINA- 
TIONS. 

On  the  27th  of  May»  the  comer 
stone  of  a  church  was  laid  near  Che- 
rokee Hill,  eight  miles  frpm  Savannah. 
When  completed,  this  chuvcfa  is  to  be 


opened  to  all  secU  of  Christiaos,  and 
js  to  be  called  "  the  church  of  all  de- 
nominations." This  noble  undertake 
iag,  we  are  informed,  springs  from  the 
liberality  and  benevolence  of  Fret 
Ma9omy,  The  comer  stone  was  laid 
under  the  immediate  auspices  of  T.  U« 
P.  Charlton,  grand  master  of  the  state 
of  Geoipa,  attended  by  a  large  pro- 
cession of  Masons  and  other  dtiseiis. 
Bait  pe^^. 

COLUMBIA   GRAND   COUNCIL    OF 
ROTAL  MASTER  MASONS 

m  THl   CITT  OF   HEW-TOBK. 

Silas  Lyon,  Th.  111.  G.  R.  Master, 
Gerrit  Lansing,  Dep.  G.  R.  Al. 
Hosea  Dodge,  Grand  Warden, 
Pierre  T.  Decevee,  G.  R.  Marshal, 
Gerrit  Morgan,  S.  G.  R.  Marshal, 
Benj.  W.  Peck,  J.  G.  R.  Marshal, 
Thomas  Slade,  G.  R.  Recorder, 
Ransom  Beach,  G.  R.  Treasurer, 
Isaac  B.  CaTnp,  G.  R.  Herald, 
Jas.  C.  Leffingwell,  G.  R.  Conductor, 
John  Utt,  G.  Royal  Centinel. 

Meet  on  the  8th  day  of  every  lunar 
month. 


MISCELLANEOUS. 

FoK  TRs  Masovio  RieiSTXIt. 

'<  Procrastination  is  the  thief  of  time.*' 
rocvc. 

The  incoiiveBiencies,  and  evils^  aris- 
ing firom  unnecessary  delay,  the  nua- 
cmefs  caused  by  tardiness  and  irreso> 
lution  in  any  good  pursuit,  and  the  i<A- 
ly  of  leaving  for  to-morrow,  that  which 
might  easily  be  done  to-day,  have  been 
exposed  and  censured  by  the  ngea, 
and  ridiculed  by  the  wits  of  every  age; 
but  that  their  endeavours  to  prevrat 
procrastination  are  unsucccasful,  is 
proved  by  the  experience  of  every  day. 

He  who  will  not  do  any  thing  to-day, 
because  he  inag ipes  there  are  dUffioul- 
tiea  in  the  wayi  which  oa  tbeasorrow 
will  beiemoved;  will  find  himself  in 
dieiaaieaicuatton  with  the  down^wko 

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MISdLLAiaiOtM. 


415 


wirited  upon  the  banks  of  a  stream  un- 
til its  waters  should  pass  along^aDcl 
allow  him  to  cross :  in  waiting,  he  lost 
that  which  could  never  be  regained, 
and  the  stream  continued  its  course ; 
for  the  procrastinator  will  find  obstruc- 
tions always  existing  to  retard  his  pro- 
gress, and  combinations  of  untoward 
circumstances  to  depress  hb  industry, 
which  in  reality  require  nothing  but 
perseverance  and  resolution  to  over^ 
come. 

The  man  who  truly  desires  to  be 
useful,  will  find  every  day  equally  pro- 
pitious, and  success  always  ready  to 
reward  laudable  exertions  and  steady 
perseverance;  whibt  he  who  snfiers 
bioMelf  to  be  overcome  by  imi^na- 
ry  troubles,  and  will  never  go  forward 
for  fear  of  being  disappointed  in  the 
end,  will  pass  his  life  in  useless  inac- 
tivity, and  sluggish  listlessness.  He 
who  will  not  struggle  with  the  oar,  but 
depends  upon  being  wafted  forward  by 
the  impulse  of  the.  wind,  will  learn, 
bat  peniaps  too  late,  that  he  has  been 
indulging  in  hopes  of  receiving  that 
assistance  which  indolence  has  no  rear 
son  to  expect. 

The  idler  resolves  that  this  shall  be 
the  last  day,  that  he  will  eat  the  bread 
of  indolence,  and  the  drunkard  that  to- 
morrow he  will  mend  his  ways ;  the 
morrow  comes,  and  with  it  new  plea- 
siffes  to  lay  exertion  asleep,  whilst  the 
smell  of  the  bottle,  causes  the  sotto  for- 
get his  determination',  and  enter  into 
Dew  resolutions,  only  thai  they  may  be 
iH'oken. 

Man  passes  his  days  looking  down 
the  vista  of  futurity  upon  the  fields  of 
felicity,  which  he  resolves  soon  to 
visit,  but  will  not  set  forward  to-day, 
lor  fear  of  being  overcome  by  the  fa- 
tigue of  the  journey.  Thus  it  is  also 
^vnth  regard  to  our  eternal  welfare; 
every  man  promises  that  on  some  fu- 
tme  day  he  will  change  his  course  of 
life.  In  youth,  being  engaged  in  world- 
ly pmrsuits,  or  allured  from  the  path  ef 
dioiy  by  the  love  of  pleasure,  we  defer 
tkn  impcHTtant  concern,  until  age  has 
calmed  the  passions^  and  laid  ambitioD 


asleep;  but  there  are  many  causes  that 
may  render  age  unfit  for  such  a  task : 
and  who  knows  that  he  will  live  to  be 
old?  Vain  man!  boast  not  thysdf  (Mf 
to-morrow,  for  we  know  not  in  what 
moment  the  oil  will  be  exhausted  that 
feeds  the  lamp  of  life. 

If  we  really  wish  to  mend  our  ways, 
now  is  the  given  time,  if  we  wait  until 
to-morrow,  new  shackels  will  be  im- 
posed, it  reifmres  a  firm  resolution,  and 
the  victory  is  won,  our  own  exertions 
are  required,  when  assisstance  will  be 
given ;  but  miracles  are  not  to  be  ex- 
pected. 

Man  is  but  a  shadow,  his  earthly 
existence  is  but  of  short  duration,  and 
if  we  neglect  to  make  proper  use  of  the 
present  moment,  we  may  never  again 
nave  an  opportunity  of  doing  good ; 
and  are  at  the  same  time  in  danger  of 
being  recl^pned  with  the  unworthy  ser- 
vant, who  nid  his  talent, 

**  For  time,  no  more  than  streams,  is  at  a 

stay. 
The  flying  hoars  are  ever  on  the  way." 

OMAR. 


INTERESTING  CONFESSION. 

The  following  highly  interresting^ 
and  remarkable  confession  of  a  con- 
demned malefiBictor,  only  twenty-two 
years  of  age,  at  the  time  of  his  execu- 
toin,  was  originally  published  in  the 
form  of  a  letter  from  th^  clergyman 
wlivfhended  him  in  prison;  and  after- 
wards published  in  a  London  Maga- 
zine, from  which  it  has  been  copied 
into  some  American  prints.  Think- 
ing it  worthy  of  preservation,  and  cal- 
culated to  interest  the  feelings  of  many 
of  our  readers,  we,  cheerfully,  (by  par- 
ticufar  request)  transplant  it  into  the 
Register. 

"  My  father  was  a  respectable 
tradesman  in  this  town,  and  I,  his  only 
son,  was  educated  jnth  all  possible 
care,  under  his  immediate  inspection, 
to  succeed  him  in  his  business.    From 

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416 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


my  earliest  years,  my  disposition  was 
silent  and  reserved,  and  the  perusal  of 
instructive  and  entertaining  books,  the 
dearest  and  almost  sole  employment  of 
my  leisure  hours.  I  avoided,  from 
choice,  the  noisy  pleasures  of  the 
world ;  and  my  parents  cherished  me, 
on  account  of  this  exclusive  attach- 
ment for  my  home,  with  redoubled  af- 
fection. In  my  seventeenth  year  I 
lost  my  mother.  My  fath^  continued 
single  for  a  considerable  time  longer, 
in  content  and  happiness ;  he  was  ac- 
tually approaching  his  sixtieth  birth- 
day, when  he  had  the  weakness  to  h\\ 
in  love,  (if,  indeed,  the  passion  could 
be  so  termed)  with  the  youthful  daugh- 
ter of  one  of  our  neighbours,  whose 
only  riches  consisted  in  her  extraordi- 
nary beauty  and  unsullied  reputation. 
He  formally  demanded  her  hand  of  her 
paig|nti ;  and  the  latter,  wh^  had  look- 
ed upon  him  as  a  thriving,  wealthy 
tradesman,  cx>mpeUed  their  child,  part- 
ly by  threats,  and  partly  by  persuasion, 
to  pledge  her  faith  to  him,  rather  with 
her  lips  than  with  her  heart.  The 
wedding  day  was  already  fixed,  when 
my  father  fell  dangerously  ill:  he, 
however,  soon  partially  recovered,  and 
glthough  his  physician,  and  some  still 
re&aining  weakness,  counselled  to  de- 
lay, he  paid  but  little  attention  to 
either,  summoned  up  all  his  strength, 
and  celebrated*  his  marriage  as  well, 
and  as  gaily  as  his  situation  permitted. 
But  on  that  very  day,  whilst  seated 
amid  his  friends,  enjoying  the  dMfbts 
of  the  festive  board,  he  suddenly  be- 
came so  faint  and  ill,  that  he  was 
obliged  to  be  carried  frovi  the  table  to 
bis  bed,  from  which  he  never  again 
arose.  He  lingered  in  thb  state  a 
whole  year.  And  it  is  certain,  incon- 
testibly  certain,  that  this  ill-starred 
Hiarriage  never  was  consummated. 

^  Meanwhile  the  maiden  whom  he 
had  espoused,  assumed  the  name  of  his 
wife,  and  in  reward  for  the  resignation 
and  cheerfudness  with  which  she  sup- 
ported the  toils,  and  fulfilled  the  duties 
of  au  afiectionate  and  careful  nurse,  he 
Ibequeathed  to  her,  by  his  will,  his 


whole  property ;  and  left  mc,  his  only 
son,  against  whom  he  had  never  bad 
cause  to  utter  a  single  complaint,  with 
the  exception  of  my  scanty  legal  pop* 
tion,  pennyless !   How  much   reason 
soever  I  might  now  appear  to  have,  to 
hate,  or  at  least,  to  shun  a  person  who 
had  deprived  me,  almost  In  an  unlaw- 
ful manner,  of  a  considerable  fortune, 
the  contrary  feeling  prevailed  over  my 
resentment.     She  was,  as  I  have  a^ 
ready  observed,  young,  beautiful,  of 
an  irreproachable  character ;  mild  and 
obliging  towards  every  body,  and  from 
the  first  moment  of  our  acquaintance, 
peculiarly  engaging  in  her  bebavioar 
to  me.     Little  then  aware  of  the  rea^ 
son,  I  yet  sought  her  company  at  every 
leisure  hour — delighted  in  her  convei^ 
sation— often  asked  her  opinion  en  the 
concerns  of  the  house,  and  soon  ol^ 
served  with  secret  pleasure,  that  she 
was  on  her  part  anxious  to  obtain  mine, 
even  on  trifles,  and  followed  roy  advice 
with  the  most  scrupulous  attention. 
Thus  passed  on  some  months,  and  I 
thought  not  on  the  danger  of  our  grow-  - 
ing  attachment :  but  when  she  daily 
became  dearer  to  me,  when  no  place 
without  her  any  longer  had  charms  for 
me,  and  sleeping  or  waking,  her  idea 
was  constantly  present  to  my  thoughts ; 
then,  too  late,  I  observed  the  flame 
that  glowed  within  my  breast.    Ter- 
rified at  the  precipice  on  which  1  stood, 
and  resolved  as  much  as  possible  to 
avoid  one  who  never  could  be  mme,  I 
should  immediately  have  quitted  mj 
father's  house,  had  *l  not  been  withh- 
held  by  the  dread  of  the  comments  my 
fellow  citizens  would  make  on  my  co^ 
duct,  by  whom  it  might  have  been 
deemed  the  efiect  of  anger  against  my 
parent  for  so  unkindly  disinheritii^ 
me — by  the  present  situation  of  afiairs 
in  our  business,  to  the  prosperity  of 
which  my  presence  was  absotmely  in- 
dispensable; and  lastly,  by  the  eH* 
dently  approaching  dissolution  of  my 
still  beloved  father. 

*'  However,  I  maintained,  dorian 
some  time,  my  resolution  of  aiiunnins 
her  society;  but  no  sooner  was  s^ 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


BnSCKLLAKCOUf* 


417 


aware  of  this^  than  on  the  first  oppor- 
tunity, following  me  to  a  sequestered 
part  of  the  house,  she  implored  me  with 
tears  in  her  eyes  to  tell  her  the  reason 
of  such  an  alteration  in  my  conduct, 
for  which  she  had  never  intentionally 
gWen  roe  any  cause.     I  stammered  out 
something  in  the  form  of  an  excuse ; 
but  all  that  I  could  say,  was,  by  her, 
gently,  yet  clearly  refuted  ;  and  at  last, 
as  my  agitation  increased,  and  some 
words  escaped  roe,  which  but  too  well 
explained  my  ^eal  feelings,  she  could 
no  longer  restrain  the  impulse  of  her 
affection,  but  throwing  herself  into  my 
arras,  avowed  her  attachment  to  me. 
This  event  put  an  end  to  all  constraint 
on  my  part,  and  no  longer  endeavotur- 
ing  to  disguise  my  love,  I  still  forced 
myself  to  try  to  impress  on  her  mind 
the  impossibility  of  her  ever  being 
'  mine,  and  the  absolute  necessity  of  an 
eternal  separation  from  her ;  and  after 
a  heart-rending  effort,  burst  from  her 
in  agony  and  despair.     But  she  clung 
'  to  my  arm,  asserted  that  she  was  but 
the  legal,  nominal  wife  of  my  father; 
set  before  me  the  speedy  removal  af 
that  obstacle,  and  insiinuated  the  de- 
lightful hope,  that  a  mere  name  would 
be  the  insuperable  barrier  to  the  ac- 
complishment of  our  mutual  wishes. 

^  Her  urgent  entreaties,  and  the  con- 
fidence with  which  she  adverted  to  the 
latter  alluring  argument,  finally  over- 
powered my  weak  opposition.  But 
before  that  holy  name,  before  whose 
judgment  seat  I  am  about  so  soon  to 
appear,  I  swear  to  you,  reverend  sir, 
that  nothing  passed  between  us,  with 
which  my  conscience,  at  tliat  awful 
hotnr,  can  reproach  me.  A  tender  em- 
brace, and  reciprocal  assurance^  of  at- 
tachment and  constancy^  ^»<i^e  all  that 
I  wished  for,  attempted  to  obtain,  or 
she  permitted. 

"  At  length  my  father  expired  5  and 
some  weel^  afterwards,  she  renewed 
her  entreaties  and  persuasions  for  me 
to  procure  legal  advice  for  our  guid- 
ance. I  dared  hot  undeceive  myself ; 
I  but  in  proportion  as  my  love  for  her 
augmented,  my  once  confident  hope 


of  ever  possessing  her  had  declined* 
At  length,  tc^mbling  for  her  sake,  and 
desperately  desirous  of  putting  an  end  « 
to  the  distracting  uncertainty  in  which 
I  exbted,  1  hastened  to  the  nearest  ad* 
vocate,  and  unreservedly  coiifided  to 
him  every  circutnstance  of  our  situa- 
tion.    He  inspired  me  with  hope,  in- 
stantly dispatching  a  petition  m  my 
name  to  the  High  Ecclesiastical  Court 
for  a  dispensation;  but,  either  from 
Ignorance  or  carelessness,  (for  I  woul^ 
not  willingly  impute  worse  qiotives  t^ 
my  countryman)  he  touched  so  lightly 
on  the  important  point  of  the  uficoo- 
summated,  yet  legally  concluded  ma^ 
riage,  that  a  doubk  motive,  and  a  dark, 
artful  design,  were,  with  too  great  seeo»- 
ing  justice,  afterwards  imputed  to  us 
on  that  account. 

^<  Imagine  to  yourself  our  transports 
of  joy,  when  at  the  end  of  three  ^eeks 
we  received  the  most  ample  permis- 
sion to  marry;  and  from  a  state  of 
tormenting  anxiety,  we  are  at  once 
elevated  to  the  calm  confidence  of  blisf 
in  our  approaching  union.  Can  yon 
doubt  the  purity  of  our  attachment, 
when  I  affirm  to  you,by  theOmnipre* 
sent  Deity,  that,  notwithstanding  this 
permission,  notwithstanding  she  was 
my  very  shadow,  and  watched  every 
look  of  mine  to  obey  it ;  though  I  lovea 
her  with  indescribable  ardour,  and 
thought  of  nothing  but  how  I  might 
best  promote  her  nappiness,  and  cer- 
tainly might  with  a  word  have  induced 
a  woman,  who  loved  me  far  bett^ 
than  herself,  to  dare  every  thing  for  my 
sake,  I  lepeat  that  more  than  f6ur 
weeks  went  by,  without  any  thing  more 
having  passed  between  us.  which  we 
could  not,  without  hesitation,  or  the 
fear  of  blame,  have  confessed  to  the 
severest  inquisitor  of  our  conduct. 

"  We  no  longer  kept  our  love  or 
our  intentions  a  secret  from  the  world; 
but  made  open  preparations  for  our 
approaching  wedding,  and  bv  the  sin- 
gularity of  the  event,  excited  the  curi- 
osity and  attention  of  our  neighbourS| 
already  envious  of  our  felicity.  The 
magistracy  f       '      * 


41$ 


lilSCXLLAMBOUf. 


to  postpone  our  tnarriage,  and  made  a 
.report  of  the  whole  afiairtothe  Eccie* 
siastical  Conrt.  God  alone  knows  the 
feason  which  induced  them  to  resolve 
upon  a  new  proceeding,  which  annul- 
led tiieir  former  decision :  but  sure  I 
am,  that  the  distraction  of  the  unfortqh 
nate  traveller,  who  feeb  himself  reel- 
ing down  the  edge  of  an  unfathomable 
precipice,  cannot  be  compared  to  mine, 
when  I  was  summoned  to  appear  be- 
fore them,  and  heard  the  overwhelm- 
ing sentence  which  renounced  our 
union.  And  then  her  tears,  her  grief, 
ker  misery — to  describe  our  feelings, 
would  be  far  beyond  my  powers :  I 
cannot — will  not— do  it — it  would  on- 
ly give  unnecessary  pain  to  your  friend- 
ly heart,  and  shake  that  resolution 
which  will  ere  long  be  so  necessary  for 
my  own  support.'* 

Here  the  unhappy  man  paused  for 
some  minutes ;  tears  no  longer  to  be 
restrained  burst  from  his  eyes;  and 
mine,  I  acknowledge,  flowed  freely : 
he  perceived  them,  gratefully  pressed 
my  offered  iiatid;  and  continued  his  sad 
tale* 

(To  be  concluded  in  oar  next) 


SORROWS  UNSEEN. 

The  superficial  observer  estimates 
happiness  by  appearances.  To  the 
young,  especially  the  rich  seem  to  be 
happy ;  so  seems  to  be  the  man  who  is 
rolled  in  an  elegant  carriage;  or  he 
that  enjoys  popular  favour ;  or  he  that 
dwells  in  elegant  mansions ;  or  he  that 
is  surrounded  with  gay  and  honoura- 
ble companions,  and  'withholds  not  his 
heart  from  any  joys.'  But  if  we  could 
open  the  recesses  of  the  hearts  of  those, 
whom,  perhaps,  we  envy,  because  we 
fancy  them  .to  be  happier  than  our- 
selves, we  should  often  be  surprised, 
to  find  in  them  more  care  than  plea- 
sure, and  more  distressing  anxiety,  or 
even  apgqish  than  enjoyment. 

As  I  was  entering  a  great  cily,  I  pas- 
sed a  mansion,  which  indicated  to  my 
disordered  fancy,  that  it  was  the  abode 
of  earthly  bliss.     Its  marble  founda* 


tloo  suited  at  the  same  time  for  beauty 
and  durability;  its  lofty  walb  rising 
story  above  story ;  its  halls  and  porti- 
cos and  gravel  walks,  surrounded  with 
trees  and  gardens,  and  other  works  of 
nature  and  art,  to  delight  the  fancy  and 
regale  the  senses ;  these  outward  beas* 
ties  and  elegancies,  with  ail  that  im- 
agination readily  painted  as  dwelliof 
within,  snch  as  spacious  rooms,  fine 
furniture,  men  servants,  maidens,  and 
all    the    other    enjoyments,    which 
wealth  and  taste  can  procure,  con- 
strained me  to  say  as  I  passed  by, 
^  Surely  this  is  an  abode  of  happiness.'* 
Scarcely  had  this  sentence  been  utter- 
ed,   before   I  passed  another  build- 
ing,  and  then  another,  and  went  on 
with    similar    reflections,  till  i  bad 
gone  by  the  splendid  assemblage  of 
palaces,  which  vied  with  each  other  in 
beauty,  and  yet  seemed  the  more  beau- 
tiful for  being   situated  together  and 
reflecting  beauty  upon  each  other— 
The  train  of  thought,  commenced  at 
a  sight  so  interesting,  continued  some 
time  during  the  progress  of  my  i«ff- 
ney.  How  happy,8aid  1,  are  the  inhabi- 
tant^ of  those  buildings;  they  want  for 
nothing,  and    their  enjoyments  arc 
heightened  and  rendered  doubly  d^ 
lightful  by  the  refreshments  of  taste 
and  the  elegancies  of  literary  attain- 
ment.    Thus  I  was  led  insensibly  to 
despise^my  humble  dwelling  and  en- 
joyments, and  ^11  the  dwellings  and 
enjoyments  but  those  of  a  few,  a  very 
few,  who  reside  in  superb  and  mapufi- 
cent  mansions. 

The  words  of  Solomon  came  to 
mind.  The  heart  knoweth  its  own  jM- 
temessy  and  immediately  my  imagina- 
tion, a4  if  to  make  some  atonement  fcf 
her  recent  uaQg^ression,  commenced  a 
new  train  of  refioctioos*  accordant 
with  the  serious  realities  of  sober  fife. 

"  Enter  the  first  mansion,"  said  she, 
<<around  which  the  drapery  of  happ- 
ness  b  so  tastefully  drawn,  and  jou 
will  behold  ai  scene  of  real  sorrow. 
The  mistress  of  this  family  has  bcea 
wasting  for  years  by  a  consumption, 
which  has  baffled  all  human  preicri]^ 


mSCXLLANSOUg, 


419 


tioo.  The  el^Dt  mansion  is  better 
tiian  a  house,  because  it  wards  off  the 
rain  and  wind. 

Buth^r  splendid  apartments,  and  her 
fine  furniture,  and  her  sumptuous  table, 
and  her  niimerous  attendants,  do  not 
abate  the  flood  of  her  sorrows.  Her  ap- 

Eite  sickens  at  the  mention  of  food ; 
ejes  turn  away  from  the  sjght  of 
splendour ;  and  the  very  sound  of  the 
ieet  of  her  domestics,  causes  her  feeble 
nerves  to  tremble.  But  who  can  tell  the 
sorrows  of  her  heart  ?  ^Vhat  may  be 
occasioned  by  the  sight  of  abundance 
which  she  cannot  enjoy  ?  And  what 
by  the  prospect  of  leaving  these  spien- 
<k>rs  which  she  cannot  retain  ?  And 
what  by  the  thought  of  mouldering  to 
atoms  in  the  tomb  ?  And  what  by  the 
asiarements  of  appearing  at  the  bar  of 
her  final  Judge  ?  True  are  the  words 
of  Solomon,  ITte  heart  knoweth  it9 
(Mm  bitterness. 

As  I  continued  my  journey,  unatten- 
ded by  any  fellow  traveller,  my  ima- 
gination still  continued  her  reflections, 
and  almost  led  me  into  a  reverie. 

<<  Go  now,  said  she,  and  see  what  is 
in  the  next  dwelling.  It  was  but  a  few 
days  ago  that  a  messenger  arrived  from 
the  army  with  tidings  respecting  afa- 
voorite  son  of  this  family.  This  ^pB  had 
entered  into  the  service  of  his  country 
with  all  the  ardour  of  ambition,  and  all 
the  parade  of  patriotism.  But  while 
his  heart  beat  high  with  these  emo- 
tions, the  hearts  of  his  parents  palpi- 
tated with  the  mingled  anxieties  of 
hope  and  fear;  and  his  sisters  trem- 
bled at  the  thoc^t  of  his  approach  to 
the  field  of  battle.  Every  breath  <^ 
intelligence  from  this  son  and  brother 
had  been  received  with  trembling 
anxiety,  and  till  the  arrival  of  this 
message,  all  had  been  favourable.  The 
messenger  presented  a  letter  to  his  fa- 
ther, in  which  it  was  written,  that 
there  had  been  a  great  battle,  in  which 
this  young  man  had  fallen  among  ma- 
ny other  brave  youths  of  his  country, 
lie  heart  knoweth  its  own  bitterness. 

The  owner  of  the  next  mansion 
came  upon  the  stage  of  action,  with 


every  advantage  of  friends  and  fortune, 
talent  and  education.  The  fairest  pros- 
pects of  advancement  were  before  him, 
and  a  train  of  admirers  shone  around 
him.  But  now  he  has  done  with  all 
public  business.  He  rarely  vbits  the 
places  which  were  once  enlivened  by 
his  shining  qualities.  His  former  ad- 
mirers are  ashamed  to  own  hb  ac- 
quaintance, and  a  dark  cloud  lowers 
over  the  whole  prospect  before  him. 
He  idles  away  his  days  in  the  insipid 
round  of  animal  indulgencies,  and  is 
fast  sinking  in  the  gulph  of  oblivion. 
The  melancholy  fact  is,  that  be  was 
too  free  with  the  wine  when  it  was  red^ 
and  when  it  gave  colour  in  the  cup. 
He  might  recover ;  but  \kis  invincible 
habit  has  declared  that  he  shall  sorely 
die.  His  parents  are  covered  with 
shame,  and  his  broken  hearted  wife 
waits  for  the  day,  when  her  greatest 
comfort  will  be,  that  she  is  a  widow* 
The  heart  knoweth  its  own  bitterness. 

But  enter  into  another  of  these  su- 
perb buildings  which  attract  your  at- 
tention, and  raise  your  envy.  Mp  one 
languishes  here  with  complaint,  or  is 
grieved  ibr  a  son  fallen  in  battle,  or  is 
trembling  for  a  friend  sinking  in  the 
whirlpool  of  intemperance.  Yet  in  this 
house  dvirells  an  accomplished,  daugh- 
ter, who  was  seduced  from  the  path  of 
vUtue,  by  listening' to  the  flatteries  of 
a  deceiver.  And  her  heart,  and  he« 
mother's  hearty  and  her  father's  heart, 
and  her  brother's  heart,  and  her  sister's 
heart,  knoweth  its  own  bitterness. 

Nor  is  there  any  end  to  this  bitter- 
ness. Think  what  embittered  the  cup 
of  Haman..  which  prosperity  had  filled 
even  to  the  brim.  He  declared  that 
this  honour,  and  wealth,  and  friends, 
a^d  power,  availed  him  nothing,  SQ 
long  as  he  saw  Merdecai,  the  Jew,  sit- 
ting at  the  king's  gate. 

Learathen  not  to  estimate  happi* 
ness  by  the  abundance  of  external  en« 
joya^es^ ;  that  trouble  begins  with  m 
improper  desire  of  increasing  happi- 
ness ;  and  that  the  first  ^p  U^aid$ 
relief  from  trouble,  is  ivpentai^9f^ 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


420 


MffSCfeLLANEOVS. 


FROM  BELtONt's  TEAVEL8. 

,  AN  EGYPTIAN  DESERT. 

It  is  difficult  to  form  a  correct  idea 
of  a  desert,  without  having  been  in  one. 
It  is  an  endle^  plain  of  sand  and  stones, 
and  sometimes  intermixed  with  moun- 
tains of  alt  sizes  and  heights,  without 
roads  or  belter,  without  any  sort  of 
produce  or  food.     The  few  scattered 
trees  and  shrubs  of  thorn,  that  only  ap- 
pear when  the  rainy  season  leaves 
some  moisture,  barely  serve  to  feed 
wild  animals,  and  a  few  birds.  Every 
thing  is  left  to  nature ;  the  wandering 
inhabitants  do  not  care  to  cultivate 
even  these  few  plants,  and  when  there 
is  no  more  of  them  in  one  place,  they 
go  to  another.     When  the  trees  be- 
c<mie  old,  and  lose  their  vegetation  in 
such  climates  as  these,  the  sun,  whidi 
constantly  beams  upon  them,  bmns 
and  reduces  them  to  ashes.     I  have 
seen  many  of  them  entirely  burnt. 
The  other  smaller  plants   have    no 
sooner  risen  out  of  the  earth  than  they 
are  dribd  uf>,  and  all  take  the  colour 
of  stratr,  with  the  exception  of  the 
p4ant  hh^ck;  this  iaHs  before  it  is 
dry.     Speaking  in  general  of  a  desert, 
there  are  few  springs  of  water,  some 
of  tliem  at  the  distance  of  four,  six,  and 
eight  days  journey  from  each  other, 
and  not  all  o(  s#eet  water;  on  the 
edntrai^,  it  is  generally  salt  or  bitter, 
80  that  if  the  thirsty  traveler  drinks 
of  it,  it  incr«5iiaes  his  thirst,  and  he 
suffers  more  than  before;  hot  when 
the  dreadfnl  calamity  happens  that  the 
neirt  well,  which  is  so  ahziously  sought 
for,  is  found  dry,  the  misery  of  sach  a 
iH^ation  cannot  be  trell  described. — 
The  camels,  which  afford  the  tmly 
tMeans  of  ^cape,  are  50  thhitty  Aar 
th#y  ttannot  }pit€icee&  to  another  well ; 
and  if  the  travellers  kiH  them;  to  ex<» 
tr^ct  the  liquid  Which  remains  in  their 
stomachs,  they  themselves  dinnot'ad- 
.  I^anc^  any  fhrtlier.  The  sfftiatitoimusi 
be  dreadful,  and  admits  no  resource. 
I  fiMist^ot  olnit  ti4iat  1  have  been  told 
happ^inittti^chses.   - 
^Hp/'^^iljsh,  victims  of  the  most 


horrid  thirst.    It  is  then  that  the  v^tue 
of  a  cup  of  water  is  really  felt.     He 
that  has  a  zenzabia  of  it  is  the  richest 
of  all.     In  such  a  case  there  is  no  dis- 
tinction ;  if  the  master  has  none,  the 
servant  will  not  give  it  to  him;  for 
very  few  are  the  instances  where  a 
man  will  voluntarily  lose  his  life,  to 
save  that  oY  another,  particularly  in  a 
caravan  in  the  desert,  where  people 
are  strangers  to  each  other.     What  a 
situation  for  a  man,  though  a  rich  oiie^ 
perhaps  the  owner  of  all  the  caravans ! 
He  is  dying  for  a  cup  of  water — no 
one  gives  it  to  him — ^he  ofiers  all  he 
possesses — no  one  hears   him — they 
are  all  dying — ^though  by  walking  a 
few  hours  farther  they  might  be  saved; 
the  camds  are  lying  down,  and  can- 
not  be  make    to  rise^— no  one  has 
strength  to  walk— only  he  that  has  a 
glass  of  that  precious  liquor  lives  to 
walk  a  mile  farther,  and  perhaps  dies 
too.    If  the  vovages  on  seas  are  dan- 
gerous, so  are  those  in  the  deserts;  at 
sea,  storms  are  met  with ;  in  the  de- 
sert, there  cannot  be  a  greater  storm 
than  to  find  a  dry  well :  at  sea,  one 
meets  with  pirates — we  escape — we 
surrender — ^we  die :  in  the  desert,  they 
rob  the  traveller  of  all  his  property  and 
water ;  they  let  him  live,  periiaps,  bat 
what  a  life !  to  die  the  most  barbaroos 
and  agonizing  death.     In  short,  to  be 
diirsfy  in  a  c^ert,  without  water,  ex- 
posed to  the  burning  sun,  withontsb^ 
ter,  and  no  hopes  of  finding  eitb^,  is 
the  most  terrible  situation  a  man  can 
be  placed  in;  and,  I  believe,  one  of 
tiie  greatest  sufferings  that  a  hnmen 
being  can  sustain :  the  eyes  grow  in- 
flamed^ the  tongue  and  tips  swell,  a 
hollow  sound  is  heard  in  the  ears, 
which   brmgs  on  deafness,  and  the 
brains  appear  to  grow  thick  and  in- 
flamed ;  all  thete  feelings  arise  from 
the  want  of  a  little  water.    In  the 
midst  of  all  this  misery,  the  deceitfid 
morasses  appear  before  the  traveller 
at  no  great  distance,  something  Hke  a 
lake,  or  river  of  dear  fresh  water. 
The  deception  of  this  phenom^enoii  is 
wdl  known;  as  I  mentioned  beibce; 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


mSGBLLAMftOUS. 


421 


but  it  docs  not  fail  to  invite  the  long- 
log  traveller  tou'ards  that  element,  and 
to  put  bim  in  remembrance  of  the 
happiness  of  being  on  such  a  spot.  If, 
perchance,  a  traveller  is  not  undeceiv- 
ed^ he  hastens  his  pace  to  reach  it 
sooner ;  the  more  he  advances  towards 
it,  the  more  it  goes  from  him,  till,  at 
last,  it  vanishes  entirely,  and  the  de- 
luded passenger  often  asks  where  is  the 
water  be  saw  at  no  great  distance ;  he 
can  scarcely  believe  he  was  so  de- 
ceived;  he  protests  that  he  saw  the 
waves  running  before  the  wind,  and 
the  reflection  qf  tlie  high  rocks  in  the 
water. 

I^  unfortunately,  any  one  falls  sick 
on  the  road,  there  is  no  ahernative ; 
he  roust  endure  the  fatigoe  of  travel- 
ling on  a  camel,  which  is  troublesome, 
even  to  healthy  people,  or  he  must  be 
left  behind  on  the  sand,  without  any 
assistance,  and  remain  so  till  a  slow 
death  comes  to  relieve  him.  What 
horror!  What  a  brutal  proceeding  to 
a  sick  man !  No  one  remains  with 
him,  not  even  his  old  and  foithful  ser- 
vant ;  no  one  will  stay  and  die  with 
bim ;  all  pity  his  fate,  but  no  one  will 
be  his  companion.  Why  not  stop  the 
whole  caravap  till  he  is  better,  or  do 
what  they  can  for  the  best  till  he  dies  ? 
No,  this  delay  cannot  be ;  it  will  put 
all  in  danger  of  perishing  by  thirst,  if 
they  do  not  reach  the  next  well  in  such 
a  time;  besides,  they  are  all  different 
parties,  generally  of  merchants  and 
travellers,  who  will  not  on\y  refuse  to 
pot  themselves  in  danger,  but  wiU  not 
even  wait  a  few  hours  to  sav«  the  Wk 
of  an  individual,  whether  they  know 
him  or  not. 

In  contrast  to  the  evil,  there  is  the 
loxoiy  of  the  desert,  and  also  its  sports, 
which  is  generally  at  the  weU ;  there 
one  enjoys  all  the  delight  of  drinking 
as  much  water  as  one  likes,  which 
tastes  not  imlike  cordials  or  other  pre- 
dous  liquors,  with  the  others  in  that 
situation.  The  beasts,  mixed  with 
bmls,  drink  together  close  to  the  welL 
There  is  a  kinid  of  basin  made  with 
cii^i  whidi  is  filled  up  by  the  drivers, 


from  the  well,  where  the  thirsty  ani- 
mals all  drink  together,  camels,  sheep, 
dogs,  donkeys,  and  birds,  as  it  is  the 
only  time  they  can  partake  of  that 
liquid ;  for  if  it  is  not  drawn  up  from 
the  well  they  cannot  reach  it.  I  only 
saw  four  species  of  birds,  viz  the  vul- 
ture, crow,  wild  pigeon,  and  partridge. 
Of  this  last  we  eat  some,  and  foaiid 
them  exceedingly  good ;  the  crows  are 
the  most  numerous;  they  tease  tite 
camels  by  picking  their  wounds,  if 
they  have  any.  The  other,  and  most 
pleasing  diversion,  is  the  beautiful 
damsels  who  come  as  sheperd^sbes  to 
water  their  flocks,  who,  after  being 
assured  that  there  is  no  danger  in  ap- 
proaching strangers,  become  more 
sociable.  On  such  occasions,  our  ob- 
serving their  gestures  aflbrded  us  great 
amusement;  but, our  water  skins  filled, 
aiid  the  camels  loaded,  we  were  obliged 
to  quit  those  dear  sports,  with  the  hope 
of  meeting  another  like  it  in  a  few  days, 
and  so  on  tiH  we  readied  die  bles«ed 
NWe ;  bm  the  journey  was  pleasant 
enough  this  day,  as  we  had  a  well  only 
within  a  few  hours. 


Foft  Tat  Masonic  Rzoiirxiu 

ANCESTREL  PRIDE. 

Many  are  so  mean  and  slavish  in 
their  sentiments,  as  to  imagine  that 
nothing  either  noUe  or  manly  can  oc- 
cur, except  fiom  persons  who  derive 
their  origin  from  royal  or  patrician 
lineage— --^believing  that  sudi  dasses 
are  endued  with  fedings  quite  dis- 
tinct and  fordgn  to  those  of  the  lower 
orders.  *^  I  had  thought  (says  Poins) 
that  weariness  durst  not  have  attached 
one  of  so  high  blood;''  and  he  fur- 
thermore expresses  his  surprise,  that 
^<  a  prince  should  be  so  loosely  studied, 
as  to  remember  so  weak  a  composi- 
tion as  small  beer."  The  sentiment 
in  latter  times  has  been  carried  to  a 
still  more  ridiculous  extent ;  as  by  a 
new  spedes  of  logical  deduction,  wor- 
thy of  the  cause,  the  genealogy  of  the 
man  is  now  ascertained  by  bis  own 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


422 


MISCKLLANK0U8. 


merits.  After  our  revolutionary  strug- 
gle had  developed  the  splendid  quali- 
ties of  Washington,  many  of  the  British 
writers  endeavoured  to  prove  him  the 
illegitimate  descendant  of  some  licen- 
tious nobleman ;  being  perfectly  wil- 
ling to  sacrifice  even  the  moral  reputa- 
tion of  his  titular  ancestor,  if  it  would 
s^ord  any  evidence  in  support  of  their 
favorite  principle.  We  have  also  seen 
a  very  laboured  attempt  to  shew,  that 
the  celebrated  Paul  Jones  was  of  simi- 
lar extraction.  These  men,  however, 
like  Marius,  could  boast  of  no  statues, 
triumphs,  or  dignities  of  ancestors; 
but  like  him  they  inherited  only  patri- 
otism and  enterprise,  with  a  thorough 
contempt  of  hardships  and  danger. 

That  sentiments,  such  as  we  have 
alluded  to,  should  be  inculcated  in  the 
despotic  governments  of  the  old  world, 
where  their  prevalence  is  necessary  to 
the  existence  of  aristocracy,  is  certainly 
to  be  expected.  But  it  "  cannot  but 
make  the  judicious  grievc^^  to  witness 
the  efforts  which  are  made  in  this  re- 
publican country,  in  support  of  the 
same  childish  predilection— here,  too, 
in  this  incongenial  soil,  where  (as  has 
been  well  observed,)  but  few  of  us  can 
trace  back  more  than  one  generation, 
without  running  our  heads  against  a 
stall  or  a  lap-stone. 

The  doctrine,  abstractedly,  is  too 
absurd  to  require  confutation ;  and  any 
person  who  should  uphold  it  from  con- 
viction, has  fair  claims  to  the  cell  of  a 
mad-house.  The  principle  is  at  war 
with  common  sense;  repugnant  to  the 
lessons  inculcated  in  Holy  Writ;  and 
averse  even  to  the  common  chemical 
investigation  of  the  fluid  itself,  which 

ti ._«. — <^oar8es  throudi 

«,The  natural  gates  and  alleys  of  il^e  body." 

The  greatest  genius  of  this,,  or  pro- 
bably of  any  other  planet,  has  repeat- 
edly placed  the  subject  in  the  most  lu- 
dicrous light ;  and  in  no  instance  has 
he  done  so  with  greater  effect,  than 
where  his  Moorish  Prince  demands 
such  test. 
4<  let  OB  make  incisbn  for  your  love, 


"  To  prove  whose  blood  is  reddest,  his,  er 
"  mine." 

But  it  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  those 
who  hold  the  ^^  vulgar  orders"  in  the 
most  sovereign  contempt,  are  fhote 
who  have  mo&L  rtctnily  risen  from 
them who,  by  some  fortuitous  cir- 
cumstance have  been  enabled  to  cast 
off  the  <^  shreds  and  patches,''  which 
for  generations  have  bung  loosely  oa 
their  ^< recreant  limbs;''  but  whose 

<<  Fire-new  stamp  of  honour  is  scarce  yet 
cold." 

These  fellows,  not  unlike  the  culprit 
in  the  crowd,  find  it  necessary  to  be 
extremely  vociferous,  in  order  to  a- 
vert  suspicion;  and  we  have  rarely 
failed  of  discovering,  that  in  all  such 
cases,  the  lineage  of  this  clamorous 
gentry  was  generally  inferior  to  that 
of  the  wife  of  Jack  Cade ;  who,  as  the 
daughter  of  a  lace  pedlar,  made  her- 
self out  (by  a  little  "palterhig  in  a 
double  sense,*^  a  descendant  of  the 
ancient  family  of  the  Lacies. 

Of  the  innumerable  instances  how- 
ever, which  have  passed  under  our 
observation,  none  ever  struck  us  more 
forcibly  than  one  of  a  certain  pletho- 
ric boip'tnvant  gentleman,  who  was 
ever  harping  on  family  respectabilhy, 
and  yet  his  own  father  was  a  found- 
ling scholar  of  the  Blue-Coat  charity 
school!  Another  instance,  and  one 
far  more  notorious,  is  that  of  a  weal- 
thy broker,  who  "  sweeps  along''  with 
magisterial  stride,  in  the  precincts  of 
Wall-street.  He  too  (as  Viigil  says) 
<*  is  another  Marcellus" — for  literallj 
indeed,  he  was  a  Master  of  Horse: 
having  early  in  life  been 


-a  jaded  eroom 


Who  has  kiss*d  the  hand,  held  the  stirrap. 
And,  bare-headed,  plodded  by  the  foot* 
cloth  mule" 

of  many  worthy,  but  now  reduced 
men,  whom  he  scorns  opprobriously 
for  their  beggary.  And  yet,  the 
wealth  of  this  stem  foe  to  ^<  vulgar* 
ity,"  has  been  wrung  by  the  most 
^'vile  means"  from  those  very  men 
who  now  receive  bis  ^' proud  contume- 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MISCELLANKOHS. 


423 


ly  ^  whose  riches  were  acquired  by 
usurious  extortion — ^graduated  on  the 
approximation  of  a  dial  index  to  that 
fiital  hour^  which,  to  the  unsuccessful 
merchant,  brings  destruction  of  profei- 
sional  credit,  as  the 

" forfeiture  of  the  bond." 

To  proceed  in  the  detail  of  sinular 
examples,  would  extend  the  present 
article  much  &rther  than  was  intend- 
ed ;  we  shall  therefore  defer  our  vo- 
luminous summary,  until  another  oc- 
casion. In  the  mean  while,  we  shall 
leave  the  reader  to  anticipate  mapy 
carious  anecdotes  of  the  sudden  chan- 
ges that  have  occurred  in  the  fortimes 
ofsomeof  our  most  supercilious  dig- 
nitaries. We  shall,  on  resuming  the 
sid>ject,  ho!3  up  a  mirror,  not  like 
Banqao,  to  show  a  flattering  prospect 
of  the  ^^  balls  and  sceptres"  to  be 
hereafter  grasped  by  their  dull  proge- 
ny 5  but  to  reflect — the  "  long  stretch- 
ed line''  of  their  humble  and  much 
despised  forefathers.  In  the  progress 
of  oiir  design,  we  may  sometimes 
have  occasion  to  give  <<high  reach- 
ii^''  bank  directors,  the  ^^day  and 
date''  when  fingers  that  are  now  almost 
too  tender  for  the  '<  precious  metals," 
were  accustomed  to  a  diurnal  contact 
with  substances  of  far  inferior  consid- 
eration. Or  we  may  bring  to  the  re- 
cc^ection  of  many  a  contemptuous 
merchant,  the  happy,  but  wished-to- 
be-forgotten  hours,  when, 

"  As  a  flaxen  headed  cow-boy, 
He  whistled  o*er  the  lea. 

In  short,  we  shall  spare  no  exertions 
to  harrow  up  the  pride  of  such  infla- 
ted wretches,  who  turn  pale  at  the 
mention  of  their  family  badge,  and, 
like  sir  Percie  Shafton,  become  horror 
strad(  by  the  presentation  of  a  ^  bttn 
bodkin !"  But  in  doing  this,  we  shall 
most  scrupulously  avoid  any  allusions 
which  can,  in  the  most  remote  degree, 
inflict  a  pang  to  sensitive  and  honour- 
able minds.  To  those  who  have  not 
yet  forgotten  their  own  former  occu- 
pations ;  or,  who  hold  in  sacred  vene- 
ration, Uieir  virtuous  forefathers,  how- 


ever lowly  or  ignoble  their  calling — 
whether  they  headed  "rash  levied 
numbers"  in  the  field;  or  were  more 
humbly  employed  "  in  closing  rivets 
up,"  as  the  honest  armourers  of  form- 
er ages. 


EMPEDOCLES  AND  OAUTEREt. 

Two  instances,  only,  are  recorded, 
of  the  voluntary  destruction  of  human 
beings  in  the  volcanoes  of  iEtna  and 
Vesuvius.  The  first,  which  happened 
more  than  two  thousand  years  a^o,  we 
have  transcribed  from  Lemprieres's 
Classical  Dictionary;  and  the  latter, 
which  occurred  in  the  present  year, 
we  copy  from  the  publications  of  the 
day.  We  accompar^  them  with  the 
single  remark,  that  in  all  the  astonish- 
ing vicissitudes  of  the  world,  the  moral 
construction  of  man  appears  to  have 
undergone  no  radical  alteration. 

EMPEDOCLES. 

A  pliilosopher,  poet,  and  historian, 
of  Agrigentum,  in  Sicily,  who  flourish- 
ed, 444  B.  C.  He  was  the  disciple  of 
Telauges  the  Pythagorean,  and  warmly 
adopted  the  doctrine  of  transmigration. 
He  wrote  a  poem  upon  the  pinions  of 
Pythagoras,  very  much  commended, 
in  which  he  spoke  of  the  various  bo- 
dies which  nature  had  given  him.  H^ 
was  first  a  girl,  afterwards  a  boy,  a 
shrub,  a  bird,  a  fish,  and  lastly,  Era- 
pedocles.  His  |ioetry  was  bold  and 
animated,  and  his  verses  so  universally 
esteemed,  that  they  were  publicly  re- 
cited at  the  Olympic  games  with  those 
of  Homer  and  Hesiod.  Cmpedocles 
was  no  less  remarkable  for  his  humani- 
ty and  social  virtues  than  for  his  learn- 
ing. He  showed  himself  an  inveterate 
enemy  to  tyranny,  and  refused  to  be- 
come the  sovereign  of  his  countrv.  He 
taught  rhetoric  in  Sicily,  and  often  al- 
leviated the  anxieties  of  his  mind  as 
well  as  the  pains  of  his  body  with  mu- 
sic. It  b  reported  that  his  curiosity 
to  visit  the  flames  of  the  crater  of  iEt- 
na  proved  fatal  to  him.    Some  main* 


434 


MISGSLLAXWOUi. 


tain  that  he  wished  it  to  be  believed  that 
he  wasagody  and  that  his  death  might 
be  unknown^  he  threw  himself  ia  the 
crater  and  perished  in  the  flames.  His 
expectations,  however,  werefrustrated| 
and  the  volcano,  by  throwing  up  one 
of  his  sandals,  discovered  to  the  world 
that  Empedocles  had  perished  by  fire. 
Others  report  that  he  Lived  to  an  ex- 
treme old  age,  and  that  he  was  drown- 
ed in  the  sea* 

OAUTERET. 

A  leap  into  the  crater  ofFesumits, 
The  foreign  journals  lately  mentioned, 
that  a  Frenchman  had  put  an  end  to 
his  existence,  by  jumping  into  the  cra- 
ter of  Mount  Vesuvius,  as  we  have  al- 
ready mentioned  in  the  Mercury.  As 
there  is  no  instailce  of  the  kind  upon 
record  since  the  days  of  Empedocles, 
we  are  enabled,  by  the  following  ex- 
tract of  a  letter  from  a  gentleman  of 
Bristol,  now  on  the  continent,  to  con- 
firm the  statement  in  the  foreign  jour- 
nals:— 

^^  I  have  now  to  recount  a  most  tra- 
gical event.  On  the  10th  of  January, 
I  visited  Vesuvius,  in  company  with  a 
M.  Gauteret,  my  companion  also  in 
my  voyage  from  Marseilles.  There 
was  noth&g  remarkable  in  his  manner, 
except  that  on  our  return  to  the  Her- 
mitage, he  took  up  a  pen,  and  effaced 
his  name,  which  he  had  previously 
written  in  the  Hermit's  book.  We 
agreed  to  revisit  the  mountain,  and  on 
the  following  Thursday  he  called  on 
me  for  that  purpose  5  but  having  found 
the  former  visit  prejudicial  to  my 
health,  I  excused  myself,  and  he  left 
me,  seeming  rather  disappointed.  On 
reading  the  awful  catastrophe  on  the 
following  week  in  the  public  print,  I 
visited  the  hermit,  and  learned  the  fol- 
lowing particulars : — U«  came  to  the 
Hermitage  on  the  Sunday,  where  he 
slept,  aAer  passing  the  whole  day  cm 
the  monntain.  On  Monday  he  em- 
ployed himself  in  collecting  pieces  of 
lava;  on  Tuesday,  after  telling  the 
hermit  he  must  go  once  more  to  see 


the  source  of  the  lava,  he  ascended  tht 
mounuin,  accompanied  by  his  guide. 
He  had  no  sooner  reached  the  crater, 
than  he  gave  his  watch  and  hat  to  the 
guide^  likewise  a  piece  of  money,  de- 
siring him  to  impress  the  lavaj  a  com- 
mon practice,  but  probably  done  to  di- 
vert his  attention.  He  then  enveloped 
himself  in  his  mantle,  and  phinged  Uuo 
the  burning  crater,  whence  he  was  ibi* 
mediately  thrown  out,  and  presented  a 
most  h4)nrtd  spectacle,  all  in  flamet. 
The  guide  saw  him  descending  the 
rtoer  ofjire  till  he  could  see  hioi  no 
more  1  He  has  left  a  memorandum  in 
the  book,  exonerating  the  guide  from 
all  suspicion  of  guilt ;  and  sUtuig  it  to 
be  his  voluntary  act,  he  having  be«B 
always  uofiortiuiate  in  MfeJ* 


ANECDOTE. 

An  eminent  barrister  some  time 
since  observing  a  witness  he  was  about 
to  cross  examine,  particularly  thought- 
ful, addressed  him  thus : — ^^  Come| 
Mr.  Baconface,  what  are  you  thinking 
about  }^ — The  countrvman,  pausifM"  a 
little,  scratched  his  head  and  cowy 
replied — "  I  have  just  been  thinking, 
your  honour,  what  a  charming  dim 
my  bacon  face  and  your  calf^s  head 
would  make?" 


SHORT  DIALOGUE. 

A.  Pray  will  you  have  the  complai- 
sance to  take  my  great  coat  in  your 
carriage  to  town?  B.  With  great 
pleasure — but  how  will  you  get  it 
again  ?  A.  Oh,  very  easily — ^I  sbaU 
remain  in  it. 

laCHEd  AIND  TALENT. 

Nothing  is  more  common  tban  to 
see  rank  and  riches  preferred  to  talent, 
and  yet  nothing  is  more  absurd.  T^t 
talent  is  a  much  Idgfaer  order  of 
power,  than  riches,  might  be  proved 
in  various  ways ;  being  so  much  more 
indeprivable,   and   indestructible,  se 


IftSCKLLANXOUS. 


449 


much  above  all  accident  of  change, 
and  all  confusion  of  chance.  But  the 
peculiar  superiority  of  talent  over 
riches,  may  be  best  discovered  from 
hence — that  the  influence  of  talent  will 
always  be  the  greatest  in  that  govern- 
ment, which  is  the  most  pure,  while 
the  influence  of  riches  will  always  be  \ 
the  greatest  in  that  government  which 
is  the  most  corrupt.  So  that  from  the 
preponderance  of  talent,  we  may  al- 
ways infer  the  soundness  and  vigour  of 
the  commonwealth ;  but  from  the  pre- 
4>onderance  of  riches,  its  dotage  and 
degeneration. 


SERIAL  VOYAGE  6f  MR.  FONTAINE, 
WITH  OTHERS. 
it  is  with  great  satisfaction  that  w%lAve 
It  in  our  power  to  lay  before  our  readers, 
tbe  following  communieation  of  Mr.  Clau- 
dtos  O.  Fontaine.  Nearly  forty  years  have 
elapsed  since  the  enterprise  to  which  he 
alludes,  took  place ;  and  seldom  does  ijt 
oecor  that  any  are  left,  to  relate  to  sue- 
Meding  generatto&s,  the  particnlars  of  im- 
portant events,  in  which  they  at  so  remote 
a  period  have  themselves  participated.  We 
fegrelf  that  the  limits  of  onr  publication 
wfll  not  allow  us  to  avail  ourselves  to  a 
greater  extent,  of  thp  information  afforded 
by  the  interesting  works,  placed  in  oor 
bands  through  the  politeness  of  Mr.  Fon- 
taine. The  reputation  of  onr  correspond- 
ent is  too  well  established  lo  requure  any 
corroborative  testimony  <<  to. convince  us 
of  the  troth  of  his  assertions ;"  and  we  shall 
therefore  insert  such  parts  only,  as  are  ne- 
cessary to  elucidate  his  references ,  toge- 
ther with  the  letter  of  M.  Filatre  de  Ro- 
sner,  and  an  extract  from  the  account  of 
Bf.'FauJas  de  Saint  Fond,  in  order  to  an- 
nex his  explanations. 

New-Yark,  June  20, 1821. 

Mb.  Luthsr  Prjltt, 

Sir — ^Having  seen  inserted  in  the 
tenth  number  of  the  <<  Masonic  Regis- 
ter/' a  citation  of  Mr.  CavaUoy  on 
aerostation,  I  take  the  liberty  to  ob- 
serve .to  you;  that  I  find  that  author 


incorrect,  particularly  in  what  regards 
myself,  as  one  of  the  seven  persons 
who  ascended, in  the  large  balloon  at 
Lyojs;  and  I  cannot  conceive  the 
cause  of  his  eagerness  to  interpret  my 
motives  as  to  the  participation  in  ihix 
enterprize. 

Yet  I  do  not  wonder  at  Mr.  CavaU 
lo's  inaccuracy,  as  he  wrote  that  de- 
scription at  many  hundred  miles  from 
the  city  where  the  ascension  took 
place,  when  the  accounts  made  on  the 
very  spot  by  men  of  science,  were 
equally  erroneous. 

To  convince  you  of  the  truth  of  my 
assertion,  1  send  you  the  work  of  Mr. 
Fatijas  de  St.  Fond  on  aerostatical 
experimentt,  wTiere  you  will  find  se- 
veral letters  giving  a  description  of  the 
ascension  alluded  to,  and  to  which  I 
have  thought  proper  to  make  some 
little  corrections  m  the  way  of  re-  ^ 
marks. 

Permit  me  sir,  to  state  briefly  to 
you,  that  being  in  the  intimacy  of  Mr. 
Joseph  Montgolfier  (who  resided  with 
me,  every  time  hb  business  called  him 
to  Lyons,)  I  assisted  very  often  at  the 
first  experiments  he  made  with  aerof- 
tats :  he  afterwards  associated  his  bro* 
ther  Ctienne,  in  that  discovery,  and 
sent  him  to  Paris,  where  he  effected 
experiments  of  the  same  kind,  in  the 
presence  of  the  royal  family. 

Joseph  Montgolfier  was  prevailed 
upon  at  Lyons,  to  construct  by  sulp^ 
scription,  a  large  balloon,  with  which 
he  intendied  to  raise  some  large  ani- 
mal, like  an  ox  or  a  horse,  &c.  I 
took  a  very  active  part  in  the  con- 
struction of  that  machine;  and  one 
morning,  I  told  Mr.  J.  Montgolfier  in 
a  joking  way,  that  I  had  dreamt  I 
should  ascend  in  his  balloon  instead 
of  the  intended  animals :  my  frieud 
seized  the  hint,  he  told  me  he  had 
guessed  at  my  proposal,  and  added 
that  he  was  thinking  of  going  up  him^ 
self,  so  that  we  should  both  ascend 
together,  which  nobody  had  yet  at- 
temped. 

1  was  in  that  |ileasant.expectation, 
when  ire  understood  that  Mr.  Pilatre 
{{ 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


446 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


de  Rosier,  and  the  Marquis  de  Ar- 
lande  intended  to  ascend  in  a  balloon 
which  was  ready  in  Paris.  Mr.  de 
Faujas  gives  the  relation  of  that  ^oy- 
age,  and  also  a  description  of  the 
ascension  of  Messrs.  Charles  and  Ro- 
bert, in  a  balloon  inflated  jivith  inflam- 
mable air,  which  took  place  soon  after 
that  of  the  aforesaid  gentlemen. 

I  saw,  to  my  great  mortification, 
our  voyage  delayed :  the  immense  size 
of  our  aerostat,  requiring  a  long  time 
to  make  it  complete.  It  was  hardly 
finished  when  Pilatre  de  Rozi?r,  and 
Count  Dampierre  arrived  from  Paris, 
with  letters  of  Ctienne  Montgolfier  to 
his  brother  Joseph:  they  told  him 
their  intention  was  to  ascend  in  the 
balloon  we  were  preparing.  At  that 
time  two  friends  of  mine,  one  a  natu- 
ralbt,  the  other  a  geographer,  had 
agreed  to  ascend  with  Mr.  J.  Mont- 

folfier,  and  me :  we  mentioned  it  to 
^ilatre,  who  said  *ii»:e  should  then  be 
six,  instead  of  four :  in  fact,  our  ma- 
chine could  carry  up  many  more. 

Soon  after,  arrived  the  Prince 
Charles  de  Ligne,  who  took  a  great 
proportion  of  the  subscription,  and  ex- 
pressed his  wish  to  ascend  with  Mr. 
Montgolfier,  who  could  not  refuse  him, 
nor  the  Count  de  Laurencien  and 
Count  d^Anglefort,  as  they  insisted  to 
be  also  of  that  aerial  voyage. 

I  then  found  myself  under  the  neces- 
sity of  requesting  my  two  friends  to  re- 
linquish their  intended  ascension ;  with 
the  promise  of  Mr.  Montgolfier  that 
thev  should  accompany  us  in  another 
balloon,  which  he  contemplated  mak- 
ing entirely  of  silk,  and  on  a  new  plan. 

Ours  being  finished,  it  was  inflated 
several  times,  and  in  one  of  these  ex- 
periments. Prince  de  Ligne  observed 
to  me  that  he  did  not  expect  1  could  go 
in  the  gallery,  as  it  had  only  six  fit 
places,  which  were  all  engaged.  1  an- 
swered him,  I  did  not  care,  that  I  had 
been  the  first  who  had  proposed  to  as- 
cend, and  that  if  the  balloon  could  go 
up,  I  should  go  witfi  it :  he  did  not  ap- 
pear to  be  pleased  with  my  answer^  and 
1  left  the  placei 


It  was  at  that  very  time  that  the  fire 
was  so  badly  managed,  that  the  upper 
part  of  the  balloon  was  burnt.  You  will 
see  by  Mr.  de  Faujas'  work  that  the 
damage  was  soon  repaired.  Mr  Mont- 
golfier reproached  me  with  having 
ceased  to  conduct  the  fire,  and  wished 
me  to  assist  again  in  the  last  experi- 
ments. 

The  aerostat  having  been  exposed  to 
rain,  snow,  and  frost,  for  several  days, 
the  coan^e  tow  doth  it  was  mad<^  of, 
became  injured  in  many  places,  and  we 
were  under  the  necessity  of  taking  off* 
the  net.  which  surrounded  it«  and  of  ty- 
ing the  cords  of  the  gallery  to  the  bal- 
loon itself. 

On  the  19th  of  January  1784,  as  it 
was  ready  to  ascend,  Mr.  Pilatre  de 
Hociy  was  the  fifth  person  who  went 
into  trfe  gallery;  and  the  balloon  was 
ascending,  when  I  perceived  Mr.  Mont- 
golfier conversing  with  Mr.  De  Fles- 
selles  the  intendant :  I  took  him  in  mj 
arms  and  carried  him  into  the  gallery, 
of  which  I  seized  hold  myself,  when  it 
was  several  feet  high,^iid  went  upuB- 
perceived  by  those  who  were  in  it,  ex- 
cept Mr.  Montgolfier. 

The  balloon  was  at  a  considerable 

height,  when  Prince  de  Ligne  seeing 

me,  appeared  quite  surprised, -«8  w^ 

as  some  of  the  other  aeronauts.     He 

^ssed  some  disapprobation,  as  be 

^ef  ved  to  me  a  few  days  k>eHNne9 

ere  ^^re  only  six  seats  in  thegal- 

k         c.  &c.     I  answered  him  pretty 

boiv       "  id  repeated  what  I  h^l  tM 

him       ire,  that  I  was  the  first  hoB 


bein^  ..  ho  had  expressed  the  design  to 
ascend  in  that  balloon ;  and  to  cot  the 
matter  short,  that  I  was  not  under  his 
control :  ^'  Princes,  added  I,  may  con* 
sider  themselves  our  superiors  on  earth, 
but  in  the  aerial  regions  we  are  now 
exploring,  we  are  all  equal,  and  on  the 
same  level." 

The  hortness  of  the  voyage,  of 
which  >ou  will  see  the  partTculars,  pre- 
vented further  discussion,  and  oo  tiK 
same  evening  at  the  theatre,  the  Prmee^ 
embraced  me,  and  gave  me  every  m«ik 
of  friendship,  &c.  &c 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MISCSLLANKOUt. 


447 


You  will  excuse  me,  sir,  for  having 
taken  so  much  of  your  attention  for  the 
perusal  of  these  ifninteresting  particu- 
lars, which  have  become  a  great  deal 
more  so,  from  the  lapse  of  time  that 
has  intervened.  My  intention  has 
been  only  to  convince  you  that  Mr.  Ca- 
vallo,  or  any  other  autlior  who  may 
have  asserted  that  m^  ascension  in  that 
balloon  was  a  ^^  very  tMoarkable  in- 
stance of  enthusiasm^  rather  thancour^ 
age,''  lias  been  in  the  wrong,  as  I  had 
certainly  time  to  reflect  on  my  deter- 
mination. 

I  remain  Sir,  &c. 

C.  O.  FONTAINE. 

p.  S.  Give  me  leave  to  also  ob- 
serve to  you,  that  experiments  with 
inflammable  air(or  hydrogen  gas)  were 
ollen  made  by  my  friend  Joseph  Moiit- 
goliier,  long  before  the  Savons  of  Pa- 
m  had  (as  mentioned  in  your  Journal) 
introduced  that  new  mode ;  and  I  my* 
self,  saw  in  Lyons,  several  of  these  ve- 
ry experiments,  &c  Some  time  be- 
fore ^e  ascension  of  his  balloon,  at 
Lyons,  Joseph  Montgolfier  made  the 
experiment  of  parachutes.  Being  in 
the  city  of  Avignon,  he  threw  from 
the  tower  of  the  palace  of  the  Fice 
Legate^  a  basket  with  a  sheep  in  it, 
to  which  was  attached  a  parachute; 
and  the  animal  descended  safe  into  a 
field,  where  he  was  afterwards  found 
grazing. 

Letter  of  M.  Pilatre  de  Rosier,  to  M.  Fan- 

jas  d«  FodA 
Sut, 

Tbe  subscription  opened  at  Ly- 
cms  before  the  first  serial  voyage,  was 
for  the  purpose  of  repe&ting  the  ex- 
periment made  at  Vertoilles.  The 
cost  of  the  machine  was  estimated  at 
4^00  Itvres;  and  it  was  constructed 
aofficiently  large  to  raise  a  horse,  or 
such  other  animals  as  might  be  sus- 
pended, to  the  amonnt  of  8(XX)  lbs :  but 
JM.  de  Montgolfier  has  now  far  exceed- 
^  hh  own  engagements,  as  well  as 
the  expectations  of  more  than  •100,000 
soectators.  bv  elevatinfir  i^.^iOOlhs.  tA 


iment  lasted  but  57  miontes,  of  which 
only  17  were  employed  in  filling  the 
balloon,  containing  145,000  cubic  feet 
of  rarefied  air,  produced  by  tbe  com^ 
bustion  of  500  lbs.  of  alder  wood.     As 
to  the  voyage,  of  which  so  much  has 
been  said  at  Paris,  it  is  a  chimera  enr 
gendered  by  the  envious,  who  endea^ 
voured  to  tarnish  the  lustre  of  an  ex^ 
periment,  the  success  of  which,  very 
clearly  demonstrates  the  utility  of  this 
important  discovery*     M.  de  Mont- 
golfier, who  had  constantly  disavowed 
the.reports^  which  ha A)eea  circulating 
on  this  subject,  engaged  M.  de  Fles- 
selles,  the  prefect  of  the  province,  to 
interpose  his  authority  to  oblige  the 
persons  who  had  taken  possession  of 
the  gallery,  to  leave  it;    but   these 
brave  seronauts,  penetrated  with  the 
most, noble  enthusiasm,  unaninioasly 
resolved  not  to  quit  the  machine,  tiU 
it  was  no  longer  able  to  hold  them, 
Tbe  xeal  and  courage  of  these  gentle- 
men was  worthy  of  admiration,  but 
lessened  the  interest  of  the  experi- 
ment, the  result  of  which  would  have 
been,  that  the  balloon  would  procrev- 
sively  have  ascended  to  the  height  of 
23,240  feet.    M.  de  Montgolfier  deter- 
mined to  accompany  it,  and  at  the 
moment  it  was  leaving  the  ground,  I 
sprang  in:   the  weight  of  my  body 
having  caused  the  balloon  to  descend, 
M.   Fontaine  availed  himself  of  the 
opportunity  to  jump,  without  its  being 
noticed,  into  the  gallery.  Those  versed 
in  physics  may  readily  conceive  that 
this  excess  4>f  weight  was  directly  op- 
posed to  the  projected  ascension.     It 
would  be  very  difficut  to  give  you  a 
description  of  all  the  sensations  the 
public  seemed  to  experience  &  the 
time  when  this  vast  edifice  left  the 
earth :  a  part  of  the  people  on  their 
knees ;  others  with  extended  hands  in 
the  attitude  of  invoking  Heaven;  some 
females  fainted,  whilst  others  were  un- 
able to  restrain  their  tears..  The  men, 
divided  between  admiration  and  fear, 
followed  in  crowds,  through  snow  and 
mild,  the  imDosin?^  march  of  the  ma-    i 


I 


44S 


MISCBLLANCOU0 


ellert  is  ft  state  ecstacy  (of  which 
there  are  few  examples)  seemed  only 
to  dread  the  period  when  they  should 
descend.  The  atmosphere  was  so 
calm,  that  the  balloon  in  ascending 
described  a  line  perpendicular  to  the 
platform,  where  it  was  inflicted;  and 
did  not  deviate  from  its  course  for 
eight  minutes.  Itdescended^at  length, 
at  a  short  distance  from  the  place  of 
departure.  Scarcely  had  we  touched 
the  ground,  when  nnroerous  rettmies 
bore  M.  de  Montgolfier,  and  the  other 
voyagers  in  tridfhph  to  their  coaches, 
which  they  accompanied  to  the  hotel 
where  I  staid.  The  express,  who  is 
traiting  for  me,  prevents  me,  sir,  from 
giving  you  a  detail  of  all  the  means 
employed  to  evince  satisfaction,  and 
render  homage  to  the  genius  of  M.  de  ^ 
IVIontgolfier.  I  scarcely*  have  time  to 
assure  you  of  the  consideration,  and  of 
the  very  distinguished  sentiments  with 
which  1  have  the  honour  to  be,  Ssc. 

PILATRB  DK  B08ISJU 

January  28, 1784. 

M.  Pilatre  de  Rozieris  mistaken, 
for  Mr.  Fontaine  who  had  assisted  and 
co-operated  at  all  the  experiments,  saw 
him  in  fact  enter  as  the  fiAh  person  in 
the  gallery,  which  was  already  about 
four  feet  high,  when  Mr.  Fontaine 
lifted  up  Mr.  J.  Montgolfier  (who  was 
in  conversation  with  Mr.  de  Flesselles) 
and  threw  him  over  into  the  gallery, 
while  he  himself  clambered  in,  at  the 
moment  it  \e(t  the  platform.     IM.S. 

note  of  Mr,  Foniaine.l 

« 
Extract  of  letter  of  M.  Mathon,  De  la  Cour, 

director  of  the  academy  of  Sciancei  at 

Lyons. 

'^  At  the  instant  the  cords  were  cut, 
both  Messrs.  Montgolfier  and  Pilatre 
de  Rozier  jumped  into  the  gallery : 
M.  Fontaine,  who  had  had  a  good  deal 
to  do  with  the  balloon,  also  jumped 
in  at  the  moment  of  its  departure ;  al- 
though his  name  had  not  been  entered 
among  those  who  were  to  be  of  the 
▼oyage,  yet  this  sudden  transport  of 

his.  WAS  picr.n«Arl  nn  fK«  mruimi  nf  h\d 


Mr.  Fontaine,  intimately  coimeeted 
with  Mr.  Joseph  Montgolfier,  had  in- 
formed him  at  the  first  constroctioa  of 
the  balloon,  of  his  design  of  stationing 
himself  in  the  gallery,  and  asoeodng 
with  it :  Mr.  Montgolfier  told  hioo  that 
this  determination  did  not  jsurprise 
him,  for  that  he  also  intended  bimelf 
to  ascend ;  and  in  this  manner,  added 
he,  we  shall  occupy  tlie  places  of  the 
intended  animals  r  but  very  sooo  aftery 
the  arrival  of  IVir.  Pilatre  de  Rosier, 
and  the  Count  de  Oampierre,  which 
was  followed  by  that  of  the  other  ae- 
ronauts, swelled  the  number  to  six  (in- 
cluding Mr.  Montgolfier.)  Mr.  Fon- 
taine could  not,  however,  reconcile  it 
to  himself,  to  abandon  his  project :  be 
therefore  went  up  to  the  balloon,  direw 
his  friend  Montgolfier  over,  and  seis- 
ing hold  of  the  gallery,  already  several 
feet  from  the  platform,  be  clambered 
in  himself.  [M.&  note  of  Mr.  Fom- 
iaine.] 

From  the  letters  already  quoted,  and 
other  aathorities  in  the  compilation  of  fiA. 
Faigas  de  St  Food,  we  have  translated 
the  following  summary  to  illustrate  Mr. 
Fontaine's  account. — ^The  enterprise  was 
commenced  by  a  sabscription  of  4,400 
livres:  that  sum  being  deemed  sofficieal, 
as  the  balloon  was  to  ^  oonstnicled  on 
an  economical  plan.  In  consequence  of  its 
being  intended  merely  for  the  elevation  of 
some  large  qnadroped.  Accordingly,  It 
was  composed  ^f  coarse  tow-cloth,  whidi 
was  doubled,  and  between  the  folds  waa 
stitched  three  thicknesses  of  paper.  Its 
height  was  126  feet,  and  its  diameter  103 
feet.  No  person  as  yet  had  ever  ascended, 
but  before  It  was  completed,  the  aerial 
voyage  of  M.  Pilatre  de  Rosier  took  plaoe» 
and  as  there  was  then  a  great  denre  anMni|r 
many  persons  to  follow  tlie  example, 
the  galleiy  was  cnnstracted  aceordiB^ly. 
When  finished,  it  was  inflated  tevenl 
times,  and  io  one  of  the  expei^ments  it 
caught  fire  from  too  much  fuel  having 
been  put  in  the  grate,  but  it  was  exiin- 
MiS«hAfl  withont  mnck  diffianhv  liv  J 


MTSCtLLAKCOVS. 


449 


1784,  the  BBcension  took  place,  wHh  the 
following  persons  in  the  gallery,  vis. 

M.  Joseph  de  Montgolfier, 
M.  Pilatre  de  Rosieri 
Count  de  Laurencin, 
Count  de  DainpieiTe, 
Prince  Charies  de  Ligne> 
Count  de  Laporte  d'Ang^ort> 
M.  Fontaine. 

It  rote  perpendicnlarly  for  some  minutes, 
and  its  greatest  elevation  was  supposed  to 
hmve  been,  about  600  toises — it  then  moved 
horizontally,  until  it  became  torn  in  seve- 
ral places,  when  it  descended  rapidly,  but 
not  to  as  to  injure  the  aeronauts  on  com* 
ing  to  the  ground,  which  they  did  at  a 
short  distance  from  the  place  of  ascent 
fipn.  In  the  evenlpg  they  attended  the 
theatre,  where  they  were  received  with 
the  most  enthusiastic  applause,  and  were 
crowned  with  wreaths.  Mr.  Fontaine, 
who  was  in  the  pit,  underwent  a  similar 
coronation,  on  being  recognised. 

Such  are  the  particulars  of  t&is  singular 
enterprise.  Of  the  subeequent  fate  of  the 
intrepid  men  who  were  associated  with 
Mr.  Fontaine  in  its  dangers,  we  have  gath- 
ered the  following  brief  account:  Count 
Dampierre,  who  was  then  an  officer  In  the 
regiment  of  French  guards,  became  com- 
mandef  in  chief  on  the  defection  of  Du- 
Bourier,  and  was  killed  at  the  battle  of 
St  AMnd,  1798. 

Prince  Charles  de  Ligne,  who  was  the 
eldest  son  of  the  author  of  the  <'  Memoirs," 
tack  SB  opposite  ride  to  that  of  his  aerial 
ooQeagoe,  Dampiem ;  and  like  him  fell  in 
battle  during  the  same  war. 

Count  D'Anglefort,  had  then  just  re- 
corered  from  a  dangerous  wound  received 
from  a  mutinous  soldier  In  his  regiment ; 
but  is  now  dead. 

Count  Laurencin,  was  considerably  ad- 
vnaeed  in  years,  and  in  all  probabOtty  has 
I6ng  since  paid  the  debt  of  nature. 

Mr.  Joseph  Montgolfier,  is  (as  well  as  his 
brother  Stienne)  now  no  more. 

Mr.  Pilatre  de  Rosier,  in  the  following 
year,  attempted^  with  Mr.  Romain,  to  crou 
thA  British  ChanneU  but  the  balloon  takint 


killed,  16th  June,  1785,  near  Boulogne. 
He  was  about  88  years  of  age,  and  with  a 
slender  form,  united  a  soul  perfectly  fear^ 
less.  He  was  a  oMn  of  science,  and  had 
been  for  many  years  engaged  in  a  chemi- 
cal laboratory  at  Paris.  He  wes  after- 
wards appointed  chief  director  of  the  Ly- 
ceum established  by  Monsieur,  (tlie  bro- 
ther of  the  king,)  now  Louis  xviiw  In  the 
aseenrion  of  Etienne  Montgolfier's  balloon 
at  Paris,  he  v^nntarily  attached  his  for- 
tunes to  the  car,  and  was  accordingly  the 
first  mortal  that  was  ever* 


-Hors*d 


«  Upon  the  sightless  couriers  of  the  idr." 

He  then  went  to  Lyons,  where  he  bore  so 
conspicuous  a  share  in  the  entejrpriae 
which  bu  been  the  subject  of  this  article. 


Fon  TBS  Masosic  Rsoistie. 
SECOND  ADVENT  DISPENSATION. 
Mb.  ftiukTT, 

Religion  and  politics  are  synony- 
mous.  Civil  and  religious  liberty  are 
preparatory  to  a  resarrection  from  the 
dead.  I  am  peculiarly  impressed  with 
the  persuasion  that  liberty  roust  even- 
tuate m  an  equality  of  possessions ;  or, 
in  other  woixls^  it  will  enable  us  to 
comprehend  that  mtne  and  thinef  are 
not  the  language  of  perfect  charity. 
We  should  yield  all  our  possessions  to 
the  commonwealth,  for  the  good  and 
welfare  of  the  whok,  in  all  its  parts 
and  ramifications.  The  time  for  la- 
bour should  be  necessarily  equal,  as 
in  an  armv,  or  a  ship.  Every  one 
who  eats,  should  culttivate  the  soil,  or 
fish,  in  due  proponion,  say  three  hours 
each  day — and  as  all  must  likewise 
engage  in  some  trade,  three  hours 
more  may  perhaps  suffice  for  such 
avocation.  And,  ezceot  when  bar- 
vest,  roads,  or  other  public  duties  de- 
manded, the  remainder  of  the  day 
could  be  ^pent  in  reading,  music, 
singing,  sacred  dancing,  and  amuse- 
ments. The  progress  of  knowledge 
being  infinite,  every  possible  stimulus 


450 


MlSCELLAMEOBSk 


be  given  to  those  wboie  application 
and  industry  enabled  them  to  make 
the  greatest  progress^  in  the  arts  and 
sciences^and  invented  the  best  ma- 
chinery to  decrease  labour.  They 
might  be  drawn  in  triumphal  cars, 
while  10,000  times  10,000  musicians 
wer^  tuning  their  praise,  and  music 
and  sinking  electrified  the  whole  with 
supernal  ioy.  Every  difficulty  touch- 
ing a  choice  of  iadividual  occupation, 
could  be  removed  by  drawing  of  lots* 
if  an  appeal  should  be  made  from  the 
wisdom  uf  the  sages,  or  the  m^ority  of 
votes ; — ^yet,  who  could  be  so  hardy 
even  in  tne  present  degraded  state  of 
mankind  as  to  object  ? 

In  the  name  pf  the  God  of  harmo- 
ny, and  by  the  coat  of  Immanuel,  and 
the  wateMvmbol  of  his  baptism,  1  call 
upon  all  the  separated  links  of  his 
church  to  unite* 

Let  DameS)  and  tects,  and  parties  fdl ; 

Let  Chriii,  with  us^be  all  in  all. 

Take  the  crown  of  thorns  from  the . 
head  of  thaf,  blessed  Redeemer ;  bring 
forth  the  royal  diadem  of  peace  and 
unity,  and  crown  him  Lord  of  all.  At- 
tend better  to  the  symbols  of  sacred 
writ,  which  is  all  a  profound  allegory, 
drawn  in  the  most  striking  images  by 
Omniscience — ^the  unutterable  J  Am 
that  I  Am.  May  we  assimilate  as 
water,  or  leavened  bread,  or  genuine 
wine,  in  our  sacrament  for  the  Coni>- 
fortevy  the  key-stone  of  the  arch. — 
Come  out  from  all  those  who  want 
faith  in  this  only  ^rue  consummation 
of  Jesus,  the  chief  corner-stone,  by  re- 
covering our  primevfil  light  of  right 
reason,  (Melchis«'deck's  Oracle.)  By 
thus  returning  to  equality,  sin,  death, 
hell,  will  eventually  cease  ;  because  as 
all  minds  become  united,  harmonized, 
and  blended  into  one  mind,  the  absent 
deity  would  return,  revive — for  in  one- 
another,  and  in  him,  in  perfect  fellow- 
ship, is  immortality.  All  nature's 
motto  is,  United  we  standi  divided  we 

fan. 

I  shall  from  time  to  time,  commu- 
Bicate  to    you  my  system  of  magic 


no  gain.     Freely  I  have  received; 
freely  I  impart. 

Your  cosmopolite  friend, 

Edw.  p.  Pjloe. 


PUNCTUATION. 
The  errors  that  so  frequently  occur 
in  punctuation,  may  sometimes  be  at- 
tributed to  the  hqrried  application  of 
a  writer:  as  it  is  exceedingly  diffi- 
cult, says  a  learned  author,  ^<  to  keep 
a  busy  eye  steadily  fixed  upon  evanes- 
cent atoms."  But  it  oftener  arises 
from  ignorance  of  the  practice;  or 
more  generally,  as  well  as  inexcusa- 
bly, from  ail  afiectation  of  contempt, 
for  so  minute  a  drudgery.  The  fol- 
lowing anecdote  however,  very  forci- 
bly illustrates  the  importance,  which 
at  times,  may  be  attached  to  this  very 
essential,  although  apparently  incon- 
siderable department  of  composition. 

Bar' Ingenuity, 
A  cuHous  and  very  ingenious  expe-      i 
dient  was  lately  resorted  to  at  a  trial      \ 
in  Green-street,  to  save  a  prisoner 
charged  with  robbery.     The  principal     j 
thing  that  appeared  in  evidence  against    - 
him  was  a  confession  alledged  to  have 
been  made  by  him  at  the  police  office, 
and  taken  down  in  writing  by  a  po- 
lice officer.     The  document  purport- 
ing to  contain  this  self-criminating  ac- 
knowledgment was  produced  by  the 
officer,  and  the  following  passage  was 
read  from  it : 

<<Maiigan  taid  he  never^fobbed  but  twiM 
said  it  was  Crawford.** 

This  it  will  be  observed,  has  no  mark 
6f  the  writer's  having  any  notion  of 
punctuation,  but  the  meaning  he  at- 
tached to  it  will  be  evident  from  the 
following  mode  of  printing  it : — 

<<  Mangan  laid  he  never  robbed  bat  twiaa 
«  Said  U  iMtf  qrmBjbrd." 

Mr"^  O'GoBMAN,  the  Counsel  for  the 
prisooer,  be^g^  to  look  at  the  paper. 
Re  perused  it,  and  rather  astonished 
the  peace  officer  by  asserting,  that,  so 


niSCELLANiput* 


451 


clearly  established  bis  iunocence.— 
'<  This/'  said  the  learned  gentleman^ 
^18  the  fair  and  obvious  reading  of  the 
sentence : — 

"  Mangan  said  he  never  robbed — 
"  But  hffict  tend  it  wat  Crawford** 

The  man  was  acquitted. — Cakdanian 
Mercury. 

From  the  Salxm  Gazktts. 

Mb.  Editor, 

Am  the  engraving  from  the  celebra- 
>ed  picture  of  j^  Lcut  Supper, 
painted  by  LEOtiABDO  da  Vjnci,  an 
emiRent  Florentine  painter,  and  a  most 
extraordinary  man  in  every  respect, 
has  become  a  common  ornament  of 
ear  parlours,  I  take  the  liberty  to  send 
yon  a  diort  account  of  it  for  publica- 
tion. The  original  which  1  met  with 
kk  a  late  number  of  the  Edinburg  Re- 
view, is  in  French,  and  is  taken  from 
a  work  written  by  the  Baron  de  Sten- 
dahl.  I  have  not  been  able  to  do  jus- 
tice to  the  affecting  simplicity  and 
bcaoty  of  the  origiiml :  but  the  trans- 
hdon  may  nevertheless  be  useful  to 
those  who  cannot  read  French.  With 
the  exception  of  a  little  hypercriti- 
ctsBD  on  the  subject  of  the  Apostle 
Thomas,  it  is  one  of  the  most  satisfac* 
tory  accounts  that  I  have  any  where 
ibond  of*  the  admirable  picture  above 
mentioned.  I  am  yours. 


THE  LAST  SUPPER.   . 

The  intention  of  the  painter  here 
was  to  represent  that  affecting  scene, 
and  to  recall  that  identical  moment  of 
time,  in  which  Jesus,  regarding  him 
merely  in  the  light  of  a  young  philo- 
sopher surrounded  by  his  disciples  on 
the  evening  previous  to  his  death,  de- 
clares with  a  heart  melting  with  sor- 
row and  pity,  that  one  of  them  is  a- 
boat  to  betray  him:  "Fmfy  I  say 
unto  youj  that  one  of  you  skaU  be- 
trajf  me  ^'  A  bosom  so  tender  and 
benevolent,  must  have  been  deeply  af- 
fected by  the  rejection,  that  among 
twelve  mends  whoai  he  had  chosen, 


with  wliom  he  kept  concealed  hi  order 
to  escape  an ,  unjust  persecution,  and 
with  whom  he  wished  to  unite  on  that 
day  in  a  fraternal  repast,  emblem  of 
that  i^uion  of  hearts,  and    Oniversal 
love  which  he  wished  to  see  diffused 
throughout  the    world,   that   among 
these  should  be  found  a  traitor,  who 
for  a  sum  of  money  was  ready  to.  de- 
liver him  up  to  his  enemies.    Grief^ 
so  affecting  and  sublime,  required,  to 
be  represented  in  painting,  a  composi* 
tion  the  most  simple,  leaving  the  atten- 
tion  wholly  engrossed  by  the  words 
which  Jesnf  was  then  uttering.     It 
was  important  too  that  the  heads  of 
the  disciples  should  possess  a  charac- 
ter of  grandeur,  accompanied  with  the 
utmost  dignity  of  action,  tn  order  ful- 
ly to  impress  us  with  the  conviction 
that  it  was  not  simply  the  despicable 
fear  of  death  which  overpowered  the 
heart  of  Jesus.    If  he  had  been  a  com* 
mon  man  he  would  have  \ok  no  time 
in  the  indulgence  of  a  sorrow  "^which 
might  prove  fatal   to  him :  he  would 
immediately  have    killed    Judas,  or 
else  have  fled  precipitately  in  compa^ 
ny  with  those  disciples  who  still  re- 
mained faithful  to  him.     That  celes-^ 
tial  purity  and    intensity  of  feeliiig 
which  so  strikingly  characterise  the 
conduct  of  Jesus  on  this  occasion,  did 
not  escape  the  observation  of  Leomzr- 
do  da  Vinci,     Shocked  at  the  fright- 
ful enorinity  of  so  black  a  deed,  and 
witnessing  the  turpitude  of  men,  Je- 
sus becomes  disgusted  with  life,  and 
willingly  abandons  himself  to  that  di- 
vine melancholy  which  has  taken  pos- 
session of  his  soul,  indifferent  to  the 
preservation  of  a  mournful  existence, 
which  muA  be  passed  in  the  midst  of 
beings  so  ungrateful.    Jesus  beholds 
his  system  of  universal  philanthropy 
destroyed.     "  I  am  deceived  saith  he 
to  himself,  I  believed  the  hearts  of  all  * 
mankind  like*  my  own.**     His  grief  is 
such,  that  in  addressing  his  disciples 
in  those  sorrowful  words,  one  of  you 
shall  betray  me; — lie  dares  not  look 
upon  any  of  them.     He  is  seated  at  a 
long  Uble^  the  side  of  which  farthest 


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452        '  MISCIIXANIOUS. 

from  the  window,  and  nearest  to  the 
spectator,  remains  empty.    St^John, 
whom  of  ail  the  disciples  he   loved 
most  tenderly,  b  on  the  ri(;ht.     Next 
to  St.  John,  is. St.  Peter ;  and  beyond 
him  appears  the  hard-bearted  Judav. 
As  the  side  of  the  table  in  front  re- 
matiis  unoccupied  throughout  its  en- 
tire, length,  the  spectator  has  a  dis- 
fmct  view  of  each  personage.    The 
moment  of  time  is  that  in  which  Je- 
SOS  ha^  just  uttered  the  dreadful  p4x>- 
phecy,  and  a  spontaneous  expression 
of    indignation  is    depicted    in   the 
countenance  of  every  one  present.   St. 
John,  overcome  by  what  he  has  heard, 
listens  however  with  some  attention  to 
St  Peter,  who  eagerly  communicates 
to  him  his  suspicions  of  one  of  the 
apostles  on  the  right  of  the  specUtor. 
Judas,  half  turned  round,  endeavors  to 
obtain  a  sight  of  St  Peter,  and  to  find 
out  of  whom  he  ia  speaking  with  so 
much  earnestness,  but  at  the  saose 
time  endeavors  to  preserve  his  coim- 
tenance,  and  dispel  every  sospictou 
ia  regard  to  himself.    But  he  is  alrea- 
dy discovered.    St  James  the  less, 
passing  his  left  arm  over  the  shoulder 
of  St.  Andrew,  indicates  to  St.  Peter 
that  the  traitor  is  at  hit  side.    St  An- 
drew contemplates  Judas  with  horror. 
'  3t.  Bartholomew,  who  is  standing  up 
at  the  end  of  the  table  on  the  left  of 
the  spectator,  has  risen  to  obtain  a 
better  view  oi  the  traitor.    On  the 
left  of  Christ,  St.  James  protests  his 
innocence  by  a  gesture  quite  natural, 
among  every  people;  he  opens  his 
arms,  and  presents  hb  bosom  unpro- 
tected.    St  Thomas  abruptly   quits 
hb  seat,  briskly  approaches  Jesus,  and 
elevates  the  finger  of  hb  ^ht  hand, 
seems  to  say  to  die  Saviour— ^^  What  I 
one  of  us  ?'^    Here  is  one  of  those  ar- 
tifices of  the  pencil  which  reminds  us 
that  painting  b  after  all  only  a  terres- 
trial art.     This  picture  was  necessary 
to  indicate  the  moment  of  time  to  the 
ordinary  observer,  and  to  make  him 
cleaHy  understand  the  import  of  the 
words  just  uttered  by  St.  Thomas. 
But  thb  apostle  has  not  that  grandeur' 


of  soul  which  ought  to  characterise 
the  friend  of  Jesus.    Of  what  coose> 
quence  b  it  whether  he  was  to  be  be- 
trayed by  one  or  more  of  his  disciples  ? 
One  had  been  found  base  enoii^  to 
betray  so  affectionate  a  master.    It 
was  the  consciousness  of  that  which 
must  have  overwhelmed  them  all  for 
the  moment.     And   immediately  a^ 
te'r,  this  other  reflection  roast  haveoc 
curred  to  them — ^^  We  shall  never  be- 
hold him  again  f'    And  almost  In  thi 
same  breath,  they  would  ask  tbe«- 
selves — ^  In  what  •  way  shall  we  safe 
him?''    St  Philip,  the  youngest  of  the 
apostles,  by  a  motion  indicative  of 
frankness  and  simpiicity,  rises  in  ofw 
der  to  protest  his  fidelity.     St  Mat- 
thew b  repeating  the  alarming  wordg 
to  St  Simon,  who  will  not  bel^^ve  the 
unwelcome  truth.   St  Thaddeus,  wko 
had  before  communicated  them,  ap- 
peab  to  St  Matthew,  who  had  beard 
them  as  well  as  himself.     St  Simon, 
the  last  of  the  i^>ostl-s,  on  the  right  of 
the  spectator,   seems    to   eaciaim— 
^  What  tale  of  horror  do  you<iaretD 
utteri''    But  we  soon  feel  that  all 
those  who  surround  Jesus  are  only  hb 
disciples,  and  after  having  surveyed 
the   different    personages,    the   eye 
ouickly  returns  to,  and  fixes  itself  opoa 
their  divine  master,  whom  we  behoU 
bowed  down,  indeed,  but  there  m  a 
greatness  in  hb  sorrow,  which  pene- 
trates us  to  the  very  soul.    The  moMl 
is  here  broughtjback  to  the  contempla- 
tion of  one  of  the  greatest  evib  of  ike 
—treachery  in  friendship.     We  §td 
au  oppression  at  the  heart ;  we  pant 
for  more  air — we  look  round,  and  wre 
find  that  the  painter,  anticipating  am 
sensations,  has  left  open  the  door  amd  , 
the  two  windows  at  the  lower  end  of 
the  apartment.    Through  these  the 
eye  catches  a  view  of  a  distant  and 
peaceful  country,  and  we  find  ourselves 
somewhat  relieved.     But  we  languish 
for  that  soothing    tranquility  which 
pervades  Mount  Sion,  and  which  aa 
often  induced  Jesus  to  lead  his  disci- 
ples thither.    The  evening  sun,  whose 
dying^rays  descend  through  the  opeA- 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


llt8ClLLAKfeOt;S. 


453 


itt^9  diffuses  a  melancholy  light  in  uni- 
son with  the  feelings  of  the  spectator^ 
and  he  too  plainly  perceives  that  this 
is  the  last  night  wlmh  the  friend  of 
man  will  pass  upon  the  earth,  At  the 
setting  of  the  sun  nn  «b«  MtccccdUig 
day,  he  wiU  no  longer  be  in  existence. 

THE  FLOWER  GIRL. 
**Piray,  buy  a  nosegay  of  a  poor 
oqAan!"  said  a  female  voice,  in  a 
plaintive  and  roelodleus  tone,  as  I  was 
passing  the  corner  of  the  Hay-market. 
I  turned  hastily,  and  beheld  a  girl  a- 
bout  fourteen,  whdte  drapery,  though 
ragged,  was  dean,  and^hose  form  was 
such  as  a  painter  might  have  chosen 
for  a  youthful  Venus.  H^  neck, 
without  colouring,  was  white  as  snow; 
and  her  features,  though  not  regularly 
beautiful,  were  interesting,  and  set  off 
by  a  transparent  complexion;  her 
eyes,  dark  and  intelligent,  were  sha-. 
dcd  by  loose  ringlets  of  a  raven  black, 
and  poured  their  sweetly  supplicating 
beams  through  the  silken  shade  of  ve- 
ry long  lashes.  On  one  arm  hung  a 
Iwsket  full  of  roses,  and  the  other  was 
stretched  out  towards  me  with  one  of 
the  rose  buds.  I  put  my  hand  into 
Bay  pocket,  and  drew  out  some  silver ; 
**Take  this,  my  pretty  girl,''  said  I, 
putting  it  into  hers,  <<  and  may  that 
God,  who  is  the  Father  of  the  father- 
less be  the  preserver  of  your  existence, 
and  your  virtue! — Virtuous  poverty 
is  DO  crime.'' 

I  was  turning  from  her,  when  she 
caught  my  withdrawn  hand;  and, 
putting  it  to  her  !ips,  burst  into  a  flood 
of  tears.  The  action,  and  the  look 
which  accompanied  it,  touched  my 
soul;  it  melted  to  the  artless  grati- 
tude of  this  poor  flower  girl,  and  a 
drop  of  sympathy  fell  from  my  cheeks. 
**  Forgive  me.  Sir,''  said  she,  recover- 
ing from  her  transport,  while  a  sweet 
blush  difinsed  itself  over  her  lovely 
face;  <'  my  heart  was  full  of  what  it 
could  not  express — nature  impelled 
me  to  so  free  an  action.  You  will 
pardon  me|  when  1  tell  you,  they 

G 


were  the  first  kind  words  I  have 
heard  since  I  lost  all  that  was  dear  to 
me  on  earth^ ."  A  sob  inter- 
rupted her  discourse ;  she  stopped  and 
wept  silently;  then  raising  up  her 
Atce  from  the  hand  on  whidi  she  had 
laid  it— <<OSir!  I  have  no  father! 
no  mother!  no  relation!  Alas!  I  have 
no  friend  in  the  worid !  -Choaked  with 
her  emotions,  she  was  silent  for  a  mo- 
ment before  she  could  proceed."  My 
only  friend  is  God !  on  him  I  rely ;  I 
submit  to  his  will.  I  only  pray  that  I 
may  support  with  fortitude  the  mise- 
ries I  am  born  to  experience!  To 
him,  kind  Sir,  this  heart  shall  always 
pray  for  you.  May  that  God  forever 
protect  yoQ !  added  she,  dropping  a 
courtesy,  full  of  humility  and  native 
grace,  as  she  retired.  I  returned  her 
benediction,  and  went  on. 

^*  And  can  I  thus  leave  this  poor 
creature  ?!'  said  1,  as  I  walked  pen- 
l^frely  on.  "  Can  I  leave  her  forever, 
without  emotion  ?  What  have  I  done 
for  her,  that  can  entitle  me  to  her 
prayers  ?  Preserved  her  a  few  days 
from  death,  but  that  is  all !  And  shall 
I  quit  thee,  fair  flowei;,  to  see  thee  no 
more  ?  to  be  blown  down  by  the  rude 
blast  of  adversity !  to  be  cropped  by 
some  cruel  spoiler !  droop  thy  lovely 
head  beneath  the  blight  of  early  sor- 
row ! — No !  thou  hast  been  reared  on 
some  happier  bank ;  thou  hast  been 
nurtured  by  the  sweet  fears  of  matern- 
al affection ;  thou  hast  once  blushed 
beneath  the  cheering  sun  of  domestic 
content,  and  under  it  thou  shalt  bloom 
again !"  I  turned,  as  I  spoke :  my 
heart  beat  with  its  sweet  purpose. 
I  saw  the  beautiful  flower  girl  before 
me.  I  approached-^caught  her  hand 
— the  words  of  triumphant  virtue 
biu^t  from  my  lips : — 

"  Come^  thou  lovely,  deserted  girl ! 
come  and  add  one  more  to  the  happy 
croupe  who  call  me  father!  theur 
home  shall  be  thine :  thou  shalt  share 
their  comforts :  thou  shah  be  taughi 
with  them  that  virtue  their  father 
tries  to  practice !"  She  stopped  me; 
I  her  eyes  flashed  with  frantic  joy;  she 

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434 


tllSCCltANMoOI. 


flung  heneUoa  her  knees  before  me, 
and  burst  into  a  flood  of  rapturous 
tears.  I  raised  ber  in  my  arms-— T 
hushed  her  eloquent  gratitude,  and  led 
her  to  a  home  of  happifleii  and  piety. 
She  loves  my  children;  she  lore* 
their  father,  and  is  equally  beloved  by 
them  all — and  the  poor  orphan  of  the 
Hay-market  ii  now  the  partner  of  my 
only  son  ]— D«  Burohi. 


Fbom  the  Zaitsstillb  Mxssivgkr. 
A  NEW  SILVER  MINE. 

We  received  the  following  account 
of  a  silver  mine,  a  few  days  since  from 
a  gentlemen  in  Peru,  Huron  county, 
Ohio.  It  appears  that  the  prospect 
was  considered  good  enough  to  ven- 
ture an  experiment,  and  who  knows 
but  PerUf  in  Ohio,  may  prove  as  cele- 
brated a  place  for  money  as  Peru  in 
South  America. 

"  A  silver  mine  (supposed  to  be  ve- 
ry valuable)  has  lately  been  discover- 
ed in  this  county,  in  the  township  of 
Ridgefieid,  about  five  miles  north- 
west from  the  county  seat.  It  lies  on 
the  bank  of  Huron  river,  about  four- 
teen miles  from  its  mouth,  on  the  pre- 
mises of  Jabez  F.  Irony,  and  Martin 
Loudon  Siago.  It  was  first  discovered 
by  Mr.  Daniel  Page,  a  respectable 
citizen  of  this  place.  They  have  since 
formed  a  respectable  committee,  con- 
sisting of  tliree  gentlemen  of  candour 
and  respecubility,  who,  after  mature 
deliberation,  deemed  it  a  matter  of  the 
utmost  importance,  and  therefore  have 
made  every  exertion  in  their  power 
to  hasten  a  speedy  excavation,  in 
hopes  to  realize  the  benefits  arismg 
therefrom ;  they  have  now  sunk  about 
thirty  feet  below  the  surface,  and  have 
twenty  feet  further  to  dig  before  they 
find  the  hiddeu  treasure;  they  have 
already  found  several  large  veins, 
which,  upon  trial,  appear  to.be  rich 
silver  ore — and  notwithstanding  the 
general  cry  against  silver  mines  by  the 
ignorant,  the  proprietors  have  the  ful* 
lest  confidence  of  its  vahie,  and  feel  in 


hopes  that  it  will  prove  a  cotnpfefr 
antidote  against  hard  times.'' 

Aaxim. 

There  is  no  condition  of  life  that 
excludes  a  wise  man  from  discharging 
his  duty.  If  his  fortune  be  good,  he 
tempers  it ;  if  bad,  he  masters  it;  Hfhe 
has  an  estate,  he  will  exercise  his  vir- 
tue in  plenty ;  if  none,  in  poverty. 


For  the  Masonic  Reoistkb 
THE  MOUNTAIN  CRAVE-Y ARD. 

Surrounded  by  nigged  eminences 
which  pushed  tbieir  summits  imo  the 
"  lazy  pacing  clouds,''  I  came  to  a 
small  knoll,  thickly  covered  with  the 
never  fading  laurel.  Though  unassu- 
ming, and  lowly  in  its  growth,  k  car- 
ried me  back  to  the  remote  traditiona- 
ry period,  when  its  deity,  in  the  full- 
ness of  his  aflection  for  a  cruel  maid, 
ordered  that  it  should  adorn  the  future 
brows  of  the  worthy,  and  of  the  brave ! 
It  now  shadowed  a  pUce,  consecrated 
as  the  burial  ground  of  the  humble 
mountaineer.  The  day  was  doudy— 
the  sky  was  of  that  peculiar  inky  hoe, 
which  is  ever  the  precursor  of  a  wm- 
ter  storm.  It  was  near  the  setting  of 
a  sun,  who  in  his  course  had  ^^dis- 
dained to  shine"  on  the  aspiring  rocks 
which  environed  this  seclud^  spot. 
Every  object,  and  every  recollection, 
conspired  to  render  it  more  doomy-^ 
the  long  rows  of  sepulchral  hillocks 
were  arranged  with  the  precision  of 
martial  columns,  and  to  the  vision  of 
the  observer,  they  appeared  confined 
to  the  circular  boundary  produced  by 
the  natural  curvature  of  the  ground. 

The  silent  tenantry  of  this  solitary 
and  romantic  hill,  rested  from  their  la- 
bours, yet,  "in  my  mind's  eye,"  I 
coold  see  the  sturdy  smith,  of  fonoer 
days,  leaning  on  his  anvil,  to  swallow 
the  post-boy's  news ;  and  the  moun- 
tain maid,  tricked  in  all  the  finery  of 
gaudy  riblx>ns,  and  fiimsy  mustins, 
tripping  on  airy  foot  across  her  native 
rocks.    But  here,  the  one  was  no  low* 

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435 


«r  than  the  beroes  wbomhe  maysome- 
cimes  have  envied ;  nor  the  other  less 
happy,  than  those  who  in  pablic  as- 
semblies had 


nislled  in  unpaid-for  vlks.** 


To  the  same  coniplezipn  they  all  had 
come  a^  last^<  Malice  for  them  had 
done  Its  worst,''  and  the  ^'  storied  urn, 
^nd  ^mated  bust"  of  tlie  one,  afford^' 
ed  as  little  consolation,  as  did  the  lau- 
rels which  waved  in  the  mountain 
breeze  over  the  lowly  tombs  of  the 
others. 

"extra(«dinary  thirst. 

Bt  M.  M.  Bellot  and  Broroiartb. 
(Tmnslated  from  the  Mkreneh.) 

The  PhUomatic  Society,  desirous  of 
complying  with  a  request  made  to 
them  by  M.  Parmentier,  in  the  name 
of  Dr«  Simmons,  appointed  M.  Bellot 
and  me  to  examine  the  constitution 
and  bodily  habit  of  a  woman  who 
drank  an  extraordinary  quantity  of 
water. 

On  Saturday  the  15th  of  October, 
we  accordingly  repaired  to  the  Hotel 
d€9  ArUy  Fauxbourg,  Saint  Martin, 
where  the  woman  reskMi  but  not 
li>)dif]g  her,  we  went  to  the  place 
where  her  husband  was  at  work,  after 
procarlng  from  the  porter  of  the  house, 
some  information  respecting  her,  which 
corresponded  perfectly  witli  what  we 
had  before  heard.  When  we  found 
her,  she  had  a  pitcher  of  water  close 
by  he: ;  and  in  order  that  we  might  be 
witnesses  of  the  extraordinary  fact  re- 
lated, it  was  agreed  tliat  she  should 
ccHoe  and  pass  a  whole  d^y  with  one 
of  us. 

On  Monday,  October  the  17th,  we 
met  for  that  purpose,  and  received 
fro»  her  the  following  particulars. — 
Catharine  Bonsergent,  the  wife  of 
James  Fery ,  a  cobler,  residing  at  Paris, 
m  the  Hordes  ArUy  Fauibourg,  St. 
Mntin,  is  forty  years  of  age,  and  was 
bonr  at  Senslis;  she  b  of  a  very  fair 
cdDplezioa;  her  skin  is  delicate  and 
frtckled;  she  is  rather  thin  than  lusty  ^ 


and  appears  to  be  of  a  bilious  habit.^- 
Her  arms  are  mnch  leaner  than  any 
other  part  oi  her  body. 

AAer  she  was  weaned,  she  was  pla- 
ced under  the  care  of  her  grandmo- 
ther, who  drank  a  great  deal  of  wine, 
and  taught  her  to  do  the  same.  When 
she  returned  to  her  mother,  she  vomi- 
ted every  thing  she  swallowed;  and 
the  matter  she  threw  op  was  of  a  black 
colour.  From  her  earliest  rofaney  she 
had  a  very  great  thirst,  and  sought 
every  means  of  allaying  it.  Before 
she  was  married,  she  drank  three  pail- 
fols  of  water ;  but  after  she  married, 
two  pailfuls  served  l^rtill  she  brought 
forth  her  first  child,  wlien  she  returned 
to  her  former  quantity  till  she  had  her 
fourth  child.  Af^er  that  period,  she 
drank  only  two  pailfuls  in  twenty-four 
hours.   ' 

When  she  is  indisposed,  she  has  not 
the  same  thirst ;  and  when  she  does 
not  drink  as  much  as  she  desires,  she 
finds  herself  ill.  When  she  lies  in, 
she  has  a  much  greater  thirst  than  usu- 
al. Her  thirst  is  never  greater  in  sum- 
mer than  in  winter.  &ilt  provisions, 
which  she  is  not  fond  of  eating,  occa- 
sion no  greater  Hoixat  to  her  than 
others. 

Her  thirst  is  atraoonced  by  a  faint- 
ness  at  the  stomach,  like  that  which 
one  experiences  when  hungry.  She 
has  a  elammy  mouth,  and  cannot,  as 
she  says,  swallow  a  morsel  of  bread, 
when  she  has  drank,  she  feels  about 
the  region  of  the  stomach  a  considera- 
ble coldness,  which  makes  her  shiver 
for  some  time;  and  which  obliges  her 
to  be  contmually  by  the  fire  whenever 
the  weather  is  in  the  least  cool. 

This  woman's  lower  lip  is  very 
thick,  and  covered  with  scurf;  she 
feels  very  severe  shooting  pains  in  it, 
especially  during  summer;  and  she 
is  subject  to  hemorrhoids,  which  do 
not  discharge.  When  she  is  troubled 
with  these,  her  lip  is  no  longer  sore. 

She  has  had  eleven  children  at  ten 
births.     She  has  been  subject  to  the  ^ 
I  hemorrhoids  since  she  lav  in  with  her 
H  £rst  child.    Of  all  her  children,  none 

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MISCBIXAKBOUS. 


•re  alive  baltwo;  aad  aHthotetbat 
ihe  nursed  were  sul^ject  to  different 
maladies.  Her  eldest,  who  is  still 
alive,  has  a  disorder  of  the  skin,  some- 
thing like  the  itcii,  hot  it  is  not  infec- 
tious. The  youngest,  whom  she  nur- 
sed only  a  month,  enjoys  perfect 
health. 

This  woman  b  the  only  person  of 
her  family,  that  has  so  excessive  a 
thirst.  She  perspires  in  sufficient  a- 
bundance;  and  voids  urine  in  propor- 
tion to  what  she  drinks.  She,  how- 
ever, never  spits.  She  drinks  neither 
wine,  coffee,  nor  spiritous  lii|uors.  She 
informed  us  that  she  eats  a  great  deal ; 
but  this  we  did  At  observe.  During 
ten  hours,  the  time  she  remained  with 
us,  she  drank  fourteen  pints  of  water, 
which  might  weiffh  about  twenty-eight 
pounds.  She  tokl  us  that  she  refr^h- 
ed  herself  every  hour  and  a  half,  in  the 
Di|^t,  with  drinking,  which  makes  ex- 
actly the  quantity  which  she  assurred 
us  she  consumed  in  twe^tv-four  hours. 
During  the  above  time,  she  voided  ten 
pints  of  urine. 

M,  M.  Bonnard,  Lair,  and  llobil- 
liard,  Members  of  the  Society,  saw 
this  wonum  with  us  for  a  great  part  of 
Ae  day. 

WOMAN. 

Sweet  tender  lex !  with  snaresencomptss'd 

roandf 
On  others  hang  thy  comforts  and  thy  rest. 
Hooa. 

Nature  has  made  woman  weak, 
that  she  might  receive  with  gratitude 
the  protection  of  man.  Yet  how  often 
is  this  appointment  perverted !  How 
often  does  her  protector  become  her  op- 
presser!  Even  custom  seems  leagued 
against  her.  Bom  with  the  tenderest 
feeliags,  her  whole  life  is  commiOnly  a 
struggle  to  suppress  them.  Placed  in 
the  most  favorable  cineiimstances,  her 
choice  is  confined  to  a  few  objects ; 
and  unless  where  singularly  fortunate, 
her  fondest  partiaTities  are  only  a  n 
■nodificatloi  of  gratitude.    Shemi^ 


reject,  but  cannot  invite;  may  uA 
what  would  make  her  wretched^  bat 
dare  not  even  whisper  what  would 
make  her  happy;  and,  in  a  word,  ex- 
ercises merely  a  negative  upon  the 
most  important  event  of  her  life.  Man 
has  leisure  to  look  around  him,  and 
may  marry  at  any  age,  with  almost 
equal  advantage;  but  woman  most 
improve  the  fl^ng  moBMOt,  and  de- 
termine quickly  at  the  hazard  of  deter- 
mining rashly.  The  spring  time  of 
her  b^uty  will  not  last ;  its  wane  wiU 
be  the  signal  for  the  fiiglit  of  her  lovev; 
and  if  the  present  opportunity  is  neg- 
lected, she  may  be  left  to  experience 
the  onlv  species  of  mis/brtune  for 
which  the  world  evinces  no  sympathy. 
How  cruel,  then,  to  increase  the 
misery  of  her  natural  dependence! 
How  ungenerous,  to  add  treachery  to 
strength,  and  deceive  or  disappoint 
those  whose  highest  ambition  is  our 
favour,  and  whose  only  saiety  is  onr 
honesty ! 

STRANGE  EFFECTS  OF  ECCESSIVC 
JOY. 

An  honourable  and  beautiful  lady 
-oCihB  IdamLof  Naxos«  named  Poly- 
crite,  when  her  city  was  in  daog^  of 
being  taken  and  destroyed  by  the  Eth- 
reans,  was  most  kunbly  besought  by 
the  chiefs  of  the  town,  to  undertake  an 
embassy,  in  order  to  proems  them 
peace,  which  she  readily  consented  to : 
and  being  mistress  of  a  very  ^ 
tongue,  so  prevailed  with  prince  Diog- 
netes,  the  general  of  the  siege,  that  he 
granted  them  peace,  and  marched 
away. 

The  people  of  the  town  hearing  of 
her  success,  ran  out  to  meet  her  with 
acclamations.  Some  strewing  her  way 
with  flowers,  others  with  garlands, 
and  all  returning  her  thanks  as  their' 
sovereign  preserveress.  The  lady 
was  seized  with  such  a  flood  of  joy, 
upon  hearing  their  gratitude,  that  in 
the  instant,  she  expired  in  the  midst  of 
her  honours,  at  the  city  gate;  and  i»- 
stead  of  being  carried  to  the  throoe. 

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487 


was  brooglit  to  her  Umh,  to  tbe  incx- 
pressible  wrrow  of  the  wbole  couotry. 

NATURAL  CURIOSITY. 
The  Graod  Saline  is  between  the 
two  forks  of  the  Arkansaw,  about  280 
miles  south-west  of  Fort  Osage.  It  is 
a  hard  level  plaift  of  a  reddish  colour- 
ed sand,  of  an  irregular  fieure,  being 
in  circumference  full  eighty  miles. 
From  the  appearance  of  drift  wood, 
scattered  on  this  tract,  it  would  seem, 
Ihe  whole  plain  was  constantly  over- 
fowed  by  the  surroundhig  streams. 
This  plain  is  entirely  covered,  in  dry, 
hot  weather,  from  two  to  eighteen 
inches  deep,  with  a  crust  of  clean 
white  salt,  of  a  quality  rather  superior 
to  the  imported  blown  salt,  which 
bears  a  striking  resemblance  to  a  field 
of  new  fallen  snow,  succeeded  by  rain, 
with  alight  crust  on  the  top.  No- 
tfaing  can  be  more  picturesque  on  a 
bright  sunny  morning,  than  tins  natu- 
ral curiosity. 

For  the  Masovic  RBoitrxm. 

CHANSOU. 

BriUantes  fleurs  naissez, 

Herbe  teudre  croissez, 

Lie  long  de  ces  ravages ; 

£t  vous,  p^tits  oisseaux, 
Mellez  vos  nunages, 

An  doQx  bruits  de  leun  eaux. 

Clemene  sur  ces  bords, 
Vicnt  chercher  les  tresw 
De  la  saison  nouvelle ; 

Messagers  du  matin. 
Si  vous  voyez  la  belle, 

Chantez  sur  son  chemin ; 

JBt  vous  cfaarmantes  ftBun, 
IXmces  filles  des  pleurs 
De  la  naissante  Aurore, 

Meitez  que  la  main 
De  celle  que  j^adore 

Vous  mossonne  &^  chemin. 

IMITATION. 
On  the  rivulets  margin  wild, 
2?epb7is  sport  aersne  and  mild, 


Breathing  perftmies,  clad  in  g^, 
Spring%  sweet  progeny  unfoki, 
'Mid  the  soft  murmurs  of  the  grove, 
Linnets  pour  their  songs  of  bve. 

Here  Clemina  comes  to  seek 
The  primrose  pale,  and  violet  meek, 
'     The  daisy  and  narcissus  £ur, 

The  new-bom  treasures  of  the  yeai^— 
Harbingers  of  the  opening  day, 
Serenade  her  on  the  way. 

Mom*^  9oii  children,  fed  with  dew. 
Clad  in  every  varied  hue. 
Breathing  perfumes,  clad  in  gold, 
All  your  sweetest  charms  uniold. 
That  the  lovdiest  of  the  fair. 
May  deem  yon  worthy  of  her  care. 
EFENIO  TYPHANOS. 

From  thk  Crarlvston  Covaixa. 
Lmes  addressed  to  e  friend  daring  a  Thun- 
der Storm. 
GOD  IS  NIGH! 
Hear'st  thou  the  awful  Thunders  roll  ? 

See^t  thou  the  Lightnings  fly  ? 
Does  the  dark  storm  appal  thy  soni  ? 
Remember !  God  b  nigh. 

Ah!  fear  not  than  the  dread  alarm : 

His  ever-watchful  eye 
Will  Iceep  thee  safe  from  every  harm-^ 

Remember!  God  is  nigh. 

And  should  the  storms  of  life  assail 

Thy  heart,  thy  faith  to^ ! 
Oh !  let  them  not,  my  friend,  prevail-^ 
•Remember!  God  is  nigh. 

CheeriesB  has  been  my  conquer^  day ; 

IVe  known  no  azure  sky 
This  hope  alone,  my  only  stay — 

I  know  that  God  is  nigh ! 

Fbok  an  Eholisb  Paper. 
To  m  littU^  hut  veryhandiome  lady. 
Where  any  thing  abounds  we  find. 

That  nobody  will  have  it! 
But  when  there%  litffe  of  the  kmd, 
Then  aU  the  people  crave  it 

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msCBUiANBOUS. 


If  wires  are  erili,  aa  Hm  knows, 

And  frequently  confeaaM, 
The  roan  who's  wiae  will  Bunely  owb, 

A  lUtU  one  ia  best 

The  god  of  love^  a  little  wigbt, 

Bat  beautiful  as  thought ; 
Thou  too  art  little^fair  as  li^^t, 

And  ercry  thing — ^in  short 

O,  happy  fair !  I  think  thee  so, 

For  mark  the  poet's  song ; 
"  Man  wants  but  iiUU  here  below, 

<'Nor  wants  that  HttU  Umg,^^ 

MASONIC  POSTSCRIPT. 

Ifjcw  Castlx,  (Kt.)  Jtif«7, 1821. 
Sifi, 

Should  you  find  a  spare  column 
in  your  Register,  please  insert  the  fol- 
lowing abstract  of  the  proceedings  of 
Simpson  Lodge  No.  31.  You  will 
thereby  gratify  the  fraternity  here. 
Fraternally  yours, 
David  White,  jr.  w.  s.  d. 
Brother  Luther  Pratt. 

DEDICATION. 

On  Tuesday  the  5th  of  June,  in 
pursuance  of  the  order  of  the  Most 
Worshipful  H.  Clay,  Grand  Master 
of  Kentucky,  the  Masonic  Hall  of 
Simpson  Lodge,  No.  31,  in  the  town 
of  New  Castle,  was  solemnly  dedica^ 
ted  to  Masonic  purposes,  according  to 
the  ancient  custom  and  usages  of  the 
fraternity. 

A  numerous  assemblage  of  Masons, 
from  the  surrounding  lodges,  assisted 
on  the  occasion. 

In  the  absence  of  the  Grand  Offi- 
cers, the  following  brothers  were  se- 
lected to  officiate  in  the  performance 
of  the  ceremony  of  Consecration,  as 
Grand  Officers  protempore,  viz : 

M.  W.  James  Moore,  G.  M. 

R.  W.  David  White,  Jr.  D.  G.  M. 

W.  John  W.  Brite,  Sr,  G.  W. 

W.  Edward  Branham, jr.  G.W. 
M.  Rev.  Charles  Crwfoitiy  G.  C. 


Bev.  Joseph  OgJesby,  G.  O. 

Edward  C.  Draoe,  G.  & 

William  Smith,  G.  T. 

Thos.  Rodman,  Sr.  G.  D. 

Jno.  T.  Payne,  Jr.  Gw  D. 

Benj.  F.  Dupuy,  G.  M. 

Edward  George, }  g^  o 

Tho8.F.  Rees,   ^^- ^• 

Zacheriah  Bell^  G.  S.  B. 

Nicholas  L.  Oliver,  G.  T. 

WiUi^m  BeU,  P.  A. 
The  following  bretbrea-^were  J6* 
lected  and  appointed^earers  of  the 
Lodge  to  the  Masoi&Hall,  vi%:*iJ^ 
James  Bradskaw,  Abraham  Kini^ 
John  Meek,  Philip  G.  Payi^  Robert 
Samuel,  David  Failey,  Sainuel  Ire-, 
land,  and  Joham  Henderson. 

Much  credit  is  due  to  the  officers 
and  other  brethren,  for  their  good, 
conduct,  and  correct  deportment;  tfaa 
excellent  order  in  which  theyper> 
formed  the  march  in  procession  to  the 
Hall,  and  for  the  prompt  discharge  of 
the  several  duties  subsequently  aamga* 
ed  them. 

The  Rev.  Joseph  Oglesby,  acting 
as  Grand  Orator,  delivered  a  Sermon 
from  12th  Romans,  part  of  lOth 
verse,  to  the  fraternity  and  a  crowded 
assembly  of  respectable  spectators, 
convened  in  the  church.  We  cannot, 
on  this  occasion,  withhold  the  just 
meed  of  praise  due  to  brother  Ogles- 
by,  for  his  able,  eloquent,  and  appro- 
priate address  delivered  on  the  occa- 
sion ;  which,  in  substance  and  form, 
was  so  happily  arranged,  and  so  lor- 
cibly  and  impressively  delivered. — 
Never,  on  any  Masonic  exhibition, 
have  we  witnessed  greater  delight,  or 
a  more  universal  unanimity  prevailing 
amongst  the  hearers,  on  the  excdkasy 
of  the  topics  discMssed,  and  the  styk 
and  manner  of  their  delivery. 


"  Down  witii  the  Carbonari.*' 

It  is  with  more  titan  common  pleamre 
that  we  haM  read  the  feHowkig  «rtM^ 
ngardlai^adRsiiiDiiof  the  i 

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romcAL* 


43f 


bly  of  TtmhyHsritaa,  nflectiiig  the  hl^ieat 
credit  to  tba  sentiments  of  that  reverend 
association;  for  we  deem  their  « indefinite 
portpMement''  onijr  as  a  gentle  mode  of 
reprobating  an  aet  of  their  misguided 
brethren,  that  has  incurred  the  extreme 
censure  of  liberal  minded  men,  and  which 
can  find  Justffieatlon  from  none  but  the 
'*  Holjr  Alliance,"  or  their  worthy  support- 
Cirs>--the  laxaroni  of  Italy^ 

'^  AiDOog  the  subjects  that  came  b^ 
fore  the  late  General  Assembly  of  the 

£)byterian  (^rcb,  was  one  submit- 
by  the  Synod  of  Pittsburgh^  viz : — 
tber  it  was  consistent  with  the  cha« 
meter  of  a  minister  of  the  Gospel  to 
attend  and  participate  in  the  meetings 
of  the  Masonic  Lodges  5  and  whether 
it  was  right  for  them  to  hold  rebgious 
communion  with  those  persons  who 
visit  and  belong  to  those  lodges  ?  The 
General  Assembly,  deeming  it  inexpe- 
dient to  decide  upon  a  subject  on 
which  they  did  not  possess  sufficient 
information^  and  considering  that  some 
of  their  own  pious  and  excellent  mem- 
bers belonged  to  the  Masonsic  frater- 
tAtjf  judiciously  and  wisely  determin- 
ed not  to  act  upon  the  questions  pro- 
posedy  and  indefinitely  postponed 
them.'' 

FOK  THE   MlSOmC  RXGlSTXJt. 

FREE  MASONRY. 

Addressed  to  a  member  of  the  fraternity, 
by  a  person  who  never  was  initiated  in* 
to  the  mysteries  of  the  order. 

When  first  the  Architect  divine 

His  glorious  edifiu  began, 
He  form'd  the  great,  the  grand  design — 

In  wisdom  form'd  the  Modal  plan  : 

To  show  his  wond'rous  power  and  skill, 
■Made  all  things  diflerent  in  degree, 

Tet,  by  this  holy  cenunt,  still 
Must  all  unite  in  harmony. 

(  Vh !  what  a  precious,  gloriotts  boon; 

Tis  Nature,  in  her  loveliest  dress; 
Tis  that  unerring  rule  which  soon 

Shall  point  the  way  to  happiness.) 

And  man,  as  one  constituent  part, 
Was/otAtenedby  the  obsat  fiest  cavsi, 


And  taught  that  att  the  work*  of  art 
Are  subject  to  unvarying  laws. 

The  noble  fuperstrudure  raised 

'Twas  eontecraUd  by  his  will; 
The  matter-workmatuhip  that  grac'd, 

Adorns  the  beauteous  fabric  still. 
One  vcuel  of  superior  worth 

Was  plac'd  within  the  vtttibule, 
(The  spacious  portico  of  earth) 

To  man  his  guidance  and  his  rule  ; 

And  deck'd  With  hieroglifics  bright-— 

With  emblematic  beauty  crown'd, 
It  shines  alolt,  and  spreads  the  light 

Of  science,  and  of  virtue  round ; 
In  fiblden  characters  appear. 

Conspicuous  for  their  beauty  rare, 
For  mortals  ever  to  revere 

Three  Jigures  e^iquisitly  fair ; 
To  men,  in  every  varied  scene, 

In  whatsoever  sphere  they  move, 
They  teach  those  maxims,  so  dlvhie. 

Of  TRUTH,  and  charity,  and  Love. 
Hail  Charity/  celestial  maid! 

Great  source  of  joy  to  mortals,  given, 
Within  thy  sacred  dome,  display'd 

The  choicest  blessings  sent  from  Heaven, 
And  in  thy  beauteous  walks  so  rife 

With  odoriferous  sweets  enchanting, 
How  charming  are  the  scenes  of  life ! 

How  few  the  pleasures  that  are  wanting; 
And  "  ye  enlightened  few"  who  know 

The  way,  and  e'en  the  hall  have  entered, 
Where  all  thooe  blissful  pleasures  flow, 

And  where  all  social  joys  are  cent'red. 
Oo  on,  and  with  a  due  regard 

To  justice,  heal  affliction's  wound ; 
You  all  shall  meet  a  sure  reward. 

If  in  the  path  of  duty  found. 

When  each  his  work  hath  done  complete, 
The  which  the  Matter  hath  assign 'd, 

He  then,  a  calm  and  safe  retreat 
From  storms  and  scorching  suns  shall 
find. 

Within  a  mansion  of  delight 

While  ages  shall  on  ages  roll, 
Associate  with  the  "  sons  of  light," 

And  joy  eternal  crowns  the  whole. 

S.OCK£. 

Mount-pleasant,  Ohio. 

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FOBTICAS«      ' 


ADDRESS  TO  MABONRT) 


BT  EDWARD  P.  PAGEj  OV    MARIETTA,  OBlO. 

Htil  mystic  friend!  whose  ark  impervious 

borej 
From  Eden*8  soil  tlie  emblematic  lore. 
Hail  Hakyon  treasure  and  redemptiou's  Joy! 
All  hail  each  Uvd  of  tiiy  chaste  employ ! 
The  striving  waters  by  thy  magic  wand, 
Smile  to  the  star-clad  heav'ns.of  peace,  as 

fond: 
And  Joseph  yields  his  party-colour'd  vest 
By  envy  crimsoned,  to  the  high  behest 
Of  that  supernal  Lamb,  who  wip'd  men's 

feet 
In  coat  of  unity,  and  love  as  meet. 
Thy  nightingale  to  lunar  brightness  sings 
The  song  of  death  to  tyrants,  lords  and 

kings. 
The  cuckoo  of  this  spring  proclaims  a  blase 
Of  solar  light,  to  cheer  expectant  gase. 
And  superstition  shrinks  with  selfish  fear, 
And  faithless  hirelings  breathe  their  last 

career — 
Order^  by  wond*rous  numbers  charms  cha- 
otic men — 
Franklin's  magic  circle  greets  the  Essen; 
And  John's  Jerus'lem  traces  all  the  twelve 
As  Aaron's  jewels  to  the  Christian's  delve. 
A  zodiac  of  truth !  as  true  they  rear. 
An  Urim,  Thummin  flag,  as  moons,  a  year. 
The  seven  primitives  of  Deity  may  grace. 
The  five  recipients  in  fond  embrace : 
Eutnct,  Ufe,  Immofitdiiy,  Witdomf 
And  PowoTf  and  Light,  and  Love — ^how 

welcome, 
To  man's  absorbent  soul ;  the  VUalf 
Undertlanding,  Mtmary,  Conacienu,  Will, 
Twelve  planets  (prime)  this  mental  system 

bless! 
Thus  God  and  man  in  one  associate  dress 
Reversing  birth,   and  in  the  wond'rous 

chain 
Concatenate,  restoring  life  again. 
And  living  souls  may  call  each  ima^  up— 
Shade  of  my  father  I  with  me  come  and 

sup! 
My  mother's  likeness  (at  this  gen*ra!  voice 
Of  human  concert  voices)  rise ! — rejoice ! 
Electric  sympathy  pervade*  the  whole ; 
Magnetic  virtue  daims  for  brutes  the  goal. 
And  lo !  we  eat  their  hieroglyphic  meat| 
Long  since  mistaken  for  a  viler  treat. 


Now,  be  k  knowflj  that  ttt  the  fomfly 
Indissohibly  join'd  in  harmony, 
By  a  long  and  a  strong  poll  together 
Will  raise  from  TopheC  each  departed  bi#- 
tiier. 


TO  CORRESFONDENXS. 

The  Masonic  Oration,  communicated 
through  the  hands  of  brother  Jobn  Rok, 
Esq.,  of  Maysvflle,  Kentucky,  may  be  et' 
peeted  in  our  next. 

An  article  on  <*  Slante,"  shall  appe^ 
and  we  should  be  pkaaed  to  hear  i$tm 
freqnentiy  from  the  writer. 

The  productions  of  our  "  cosmopolite 
friend"  E.  F.  Face,  shall  occasiooally  ap- 
pear, provided  he  is  careful  to  be  brief, 
and  does  not  attempt  to  "jp/oy  wHk  edgjd 
<oo(t,"  the  use  of  which,  he  is  entirely  ig- 
norant. 

The  '<  Notice  of  Napoleon's  Memoirs," 
shall  appear  in  number  twelve. 

«AvoR,"  oannot  be  admitted;  sis  we 
have  laid  down  a  rule,  that  we  will  in  no 
instance  give  publicity  to  private  feods; 
and  we  feel  in  no  wise  disposed  to  depart 
from  the  regulation. 

We  must  decline  giving  the  w^  written 
j^ece  respecting  "  Dandfes,"  an  insertkiB> 
as  we  consider  them  an  article  of  litUe  Im- 
portance to  any  portion  of  society,  bat— 
themselves. 

The  article  respecting  <'  Strawberries  aaJ 
Coach  hire,"  oannot  obtain  a  place,  till  the 
editor  b  better  convinced  of  the  reality  of 
'  the  writer's  assertions.  It  is  true,  tbal  aB 
GOOD  Masons  are  upon  a  level,  and  agree- 
ably to  the  ancient  landmarks  of  the  order, 
"  no  worthy  brother  is  to  be  treated  conto* 
meliously,  because  his  coat  is  worn  thread- 
bare, or  because  unforeseen  misfortnnei 
have  reduced  him  to  poverty."  It  is  equal- 
ly true,  that  **  no  person  ought  to  ride  in  a 
coach,  at  the  expence  of  the  widow^  and 
the  orphan,  or  to  deprive  a  poor  ahd  peo- 
nyless  brother,  of  that  assistance  to  whiefa 
he  is  justly  entitled." 

BOLMORE,  FRINTER. 

DigitizTdby^TO^le 


THE 


AMERICAN  MASONIC  REGISTER, 


Ain> 


Ladies'  and  Gentlemen's  Magazine. 


BY  LUTHER  PRATT. 


Ifmonfi 


righteous  eonsidareth  the  eause  of  the  poor;  bat  the  wicked  regardeth  not  to 
know  it. 
bl  men  bring  e  city  into  a  mare :  bat  wise  men  torn  away  wrath. 

Soix>Moir. 


[No.  Xn.]         FOR  AUGUST,  A.  D.  1821.   A.  L.  5821.         [Vol.  I.] 


MASONIC 

Fon  TBS  MASomc  Rxoistbr. 
JVoymfle,  (Ky.)  Jwie  12, 1821. 
Br.  Lutbvr  Pratt, 

Sir — ^I  have  been  requested  by  several 
members  of  the  two  lodges  of  this  place, 
to  forward  you  the  enclosed  address,  and 
should  you  think  it  worthy  of  a  place  in  the 
^Register,"  you  will  please  to  insert  it. 
I  am,  Sir,  yours, 

JoHV  Rob. 

AN  ORATION, 

Delivered  in  Maysville,  on  the  24th  ult. 
before  the  members  of  Maysville  Lodge, 
Ho  26,  and  Confidence  Lodge,  No.  62, 
by  Brother  M.  R  Satres. 
(PMuhtd  hy  requett  of  the  Lodget.) 

WoRSHIPfUL  MASTERS  AVD  BRSTBRBV, 

I  thank  you  for  this  mark  of  your 
respect  and  esteem.  In  having  se- 
lected me  to  address  you  upon  this 
day,  so  revered  by  Masons,  you  have 
excited  feelings  in  my  breast  which 
hiDgua||e  is  too  feeble  to  express.  Rut 
those  teblings  will  live  whust  memory 
holds  her  seat  in  this  tabernacle  of 
day ;  an(l  whilst  one  pulse  beats  with- 
in my  bosom,  it  shall  beat  with  warm- 
est gratitiide  to  you.  I  am  well  aware, 

H 


that  others  might  have  been  selected 
from  amongst  you,  whose  talents  and 
information  would  have  enabled  them 
to  do  more  justice  to  so  sublime  a  sub- 
ject; but  believe  me,  brethren,  none 
who  would  have  felt  more  anxiously 
solicitous  to  meet  your  approbation. 

The  diUdence  I  feel  in  thus  public- 
ly addressing  you  upon  so  important 
an  occasion,  and  so  important  a  sub- 
ject, shall  be  hushed  by  the  reflection, 
that  I  am  performing  a  serious  and 
honourable  duty,  and  that  I  am  ad- 
dressing those  who  hold  the  balance 
with  a  steady  hand,  and  cast  the  por- 
tion of  mercy  into  the  rising  scale. 

You  know,  brethren,  the  slight  pro- 
gress I  have  made  in  the  sacred  mys- 
teries of  the  order,  and  I  hope  and  be- 
lieve, that  you  will  view  my  errors^  if 
unfortunately  I  should  commit  any, 
charitably;  indeed  I  should  be  men- 
tally slaiKlering  you  and  the  sacred  in- 
stitution to  which  you  belong,  if  I  did 
not  think  and  believe  that  you  would 
do  so. 

Those  assembled  who  belong  not  to 
oor  institution,  will  I  hope  reflect,  that 
the  works  of  man  are  all  imperfect; 
and  that  it  is  seldom  the  lot  of  any 
individual  to  give  universal  satisfac- 
faction.  T  hope  ft  may  be  my  lot  to 
h  h 

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lAAMklC. 


please;  iHit  I  know  that  the  fondest 
Lopes  may  be  blasted^  and  prove 

"  Abortive  at  the  firat-born  blossom  of 

spring, 
"Nim)'d  by  the  lagging  rear  of  winter's 

If  my  anxiety  and  wish  to  please 
should  meet  a  reciprocal  feeling,  I 
shall  be  gratified.  It  is  my  wish  to 
render  my  subject  pleasing  to  all,  and 
to  impress  upon  every  mind  and  every 
heart,  the  truth  of  the  charitable, 
friendly,  and  benevolent  objects  of 
Masonry. 

The  Masonic  Institution  is  worthy 
of  the  respect  and  favourable  consid- 
eration of  mankind  for  its  antiquity 
alone;  there  is  something  venerable 
in  the  very  name;  someuiing  which 
gives  to  the  mind  a  more  than  ordina- 
.  ry  exaltation,  and  elevates  it  by  a 
course  of  progressive  examination  to 
the  habitation  of  Him,  by  whose  migh- 
ty power,  angels  and  men,  and  worlds 
exist.  How  sublime  the  idea  of  its 
having  for  its  author  the  Great  I  AM, 
the  author  of  all  things.  How  worthy 
of  our  esteem^  when  we  reflect  that  it 
was  coeval  with  religion,  sioipltaneous 
with  light,  the  offspring  of  order,  har- 
mony, and  love. 

We  know,  brethren,  that  it  is  not 
the  work  of  mortal  hands;  we  know 
that  it  emanated  from  Heaven.  The 
records  of  time  may  be  examined,  the 
pages  of  sacred  and  profane  history 
perused,  and  yet  the  mind  left  in  doubt 
and  uncertainty  respecting  its  founda- 
tion ;  the  boundless  desert  of  inquiry 
presents  no  rock  from  whose  sides  the 
waters  of  truth  might  be  made  to  gush ; 
we  have  no  cloud  to  guide  our  weary 
way;  no  hope  of  final  reward.  Occa- 
sionally faint  traces' of  its  progress  are 
exhibited,  and  we  hail  them  as  would 
a  bewildered  traveller  the  paths  of 
those  who  had  journeyed  before  him, 
but  they  are  soon  lost ;  time,  the  om- 
nipotent leveller  of  human  glory,  hat 
obliterated  them  for  ever. 

But,  brethren,  the  divine  mysteries 
of  our  tnstitmion  have  not  been  com- 
mitted to  the  perishable  memorials  of 


iigm, 
volqfc 

'W 

ih  of 


learning  and  science ;  they  Kve  in  tbi 
memones  of  the  faithful  and  true,  and 
can  only  be  lost  on  earth  by  universal 
desolation.  The  frail  bark  which  bore 
Noah  amidst  the  winds  and  waves  of 
the  deluge,  was  the  shelter  also  of 
Masonry;  it  lived  when  the  records 
of  arts  and  sciences,  and  learning  per- 
ished, and  shall  continije  to  live 

«  amidst  the  warof  efements, 

*<  The  wreck  of  matter,  and  the  crash  of 
worlds." 

When  God  said  <<  let  there  be  light, 
and  there  was  light,"  the  benevc' 
and  sublime  outlines  of  the  order  \ 
laid;  and  when  the  first  being 
created,  and  breathed  the  breath 
immortality,  and  all  the  host  of  hea- 
ven shouted  for  joy.  Masonry  was 
established  upon  earth. 

Brethren,  this  is  a  sublime  reflec- 
tion ;  it  lifts  our  ideas  up  beyond  ^  this 
mortal  coil,''  this  vail  of  clouds  and 
darkness  which  surrounds  us,  to  the 
seat  of  Him  who  spoke  a  world  ioto 
existence,  and  by  whose  mighty  power 
every  planet  is  sustained  in  its  orbit, 
and  every  star  sheds  its  light  upon 
man. 

Had  our  institution  been  the  work 
of  mortal  hands,  how  could  it  have 
lived  through  so  many  ages?  How 
could  it  have  triumphed  over  the 
wreck  of  empires,  survived  the  most 
splendid  and  stupendous  works  of  art, 
and  at  this  day  exhibit  to  the  world  a 
youthful  and  vigorous  aspect?  Its 
bloom,  brethren,  is  perennial ;  the 
rose  and  the  lily  bloom,  and  blossom, 
and  die ;  the  works  of  genius  are  ad- 
mired and  forgotten;  the  gorgeous 
temple  and  aspiring  obelbk,  sink  si- 
lently under  the  influence  of  time,  abd 
leave  not  even  a  wreck  of  their  glory; 
but  Masonry,  unsupported  by  pride, 
without  the  protection  of  power,  ex« 
erts  her  mild  and  genial  influence^ 
ner  fears  the  fate  which  seems  entailed 
upon  all  human  works. 

Proud  science !  heavenly  art  f  'tis 
thy  peculiar  fortune  to  be  enabled  to 
smile  amidst  the  throes  and  convul- 
sions of  nature;  to  flourish  amid  Van- 


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MASONIC. 


443 


dsA  barbarism,  and  remain  irosullied 
amidst  superstition  and  ignorance. 
1V>  thee,  science  and  learning  greatly 
owe  their  present  pre-eminence,  by 
thee  has  the  world  been  adorned  and 
ealightened^  thou  art  the  friend  of 
virtue,  liberty,  and  man. 

Brethren,  we  are  assembled  in  a 
temple  dedicated  to  the  great  Grand 
Master  of  the  Universe ;  to  him  by 
whose  mandate  the  wild  warring  of  the 
elements  was  stilled ;  order  issued  out 
ofdiaos,  and  world^  sprang  intoex- 

•nce.  We  are  in  a  temple  sacred 
be  name  of  him,  who  said,  ^<  let  us 
ke  man  after  our  own  image,"  and 
man,  the  first  of  created  beings,  stood 
before  his  God,  and  worshipped  and 
adored.  In  the  sight  of  that  great 
and  good  Being  we  now  stand,  prepa- 
ratory to  the  great  and  awful  day, 
when  the  sound  of  the  last  trumpet 
^hall  summon  us  to  the  Grand  Lodge 
above,  to  account  for  our  actions,  and 
receive  the  reward  of  our  labours. 

Brethren,  the  eye  which  ornaments 
the  insignia  of  your  order,  is  intended 
le  impress  upon  your  minds  the  great- 
ness of  the  Almighty ;  that  he  is  an 
omnipresent  being;  the  square,  the 
plummet,  and  the  level,  the  exactness 
with  which  your  conduct  will  be  scru- 
tinized, and  the  sword,  the  certainty 
with  which  deserved  punishment  will 
be  inflicted.  How  greatly  then,  breth- 
ren, does  it  become  us  to  square  our 
actions  ari^t,  and  walk  upon  the  line 
of  virtue.  Let  our  faults  be  circum- 
scribed by  a  narrow  circuit,  but  oh ! 
may  our  virtues  be  boundless  as  the 
universe. 

Yet,  this  institution,  sacred  as  was 
its  origin,  and  which  claims  for  its 
founder  the  Author  of  all  things,  like 
every  thing  that  is  great  and  good,  has 
suffered  the  stings  and  scourges  of  out- 
rageous passion.  Neither  its  divine 
erigin,  nor  the  morality  of  its  princi- 

£les,  could  secure  it  from  censure, 
ike  religion,  it  has  been  stigmatized 
and  persecuted,  and  its  members  pro- 
scribed and  binted,  like  ruthless  mon- 
•ters,  from  sodety.    The  arm  of  pow- 


er has  been  of\en  bared  to  lay  it  low, 
to  crush  it  like  a  worm  in  the  dust, 
and  erase  its  very  name  from  the  re- 
cords of  time.  Popes,  emperors,  and 
kings,  have  combined  in  the  unholy 
league,  hurled  their  anathemas  against 
it,  and  arrayed  their  suppliant  vassals 
in  opposition  to  its  members,  in  the 
hope  of  extinguishing  it  for  ever.  Vain 
hope, futile  expectation !  As  well  might 
they  have  endeavoured  to  extinguish 
the  bright  luminary  of  day,  and  quench- 
ed every  star  of  heaven.  It  had  God  for 
its  protector,  and  virtue  for  its  object ; 
its  foundation  was  the  rock  of  eternal 
and  immutable  truth;  and  all  the 
winds  and  waves  of  calumny,  super- 
stition, ignorance,  and  hatred,  warred 
around  it  in  vain. 

What  has  been  the  effect  of  these 
efforts  to  suppress  Masonry,  may  be 
learned  by  an  examination  into  the 
present  condition  of  the  institution; 
never,  since  Masonry  beamed  upon 
the  world,  has  it  shone  with  more  re^. 
splendent  lustre  than  at  the  present 
day;  never  were  its  members  more 
numerous,  and  (the  severest  of  all 
comments  upon  the  conduct  of  its  ene- 
mies) never  were  men  more  enlight- 
ened. It  has  kept  even  pace  with 
science  and  learning ;  brightened  when 
they  flourished,  and  mourned  when 
they  drooped. 

Where  are  now  those  dreadful  ma- 
chines which  gloomy  jealousy  and  re- 
ligious intolerance  erected,  to  coerce 
mankind  into  an  acquiescence  to  the 
will  of  mitred  or  crowned  tyrants? 
Dreary,  and  dark,  and  eternal,  is  their 
grave;  their  requiem  was  the  execra- 
tion of  mankind.  What  is  the  post- 
humous fame  of  those  who  erected 
them  ?  History  blushed  when  she  re- 
corded their  actions,  and  mankind  ab- 
hors the  pages  upon  which  they  are 
written.  Where  is  now  that  dread 
tribunal,  the  inquisition,  whose  laws 
were  the  greatest  of  stigmas  upon  the 
religion  which  it  professed  to  sanction 
and  support?  It  is  prostrated;  rea- 
son resumed  its  influence,  liberty  as- 
serted her  rights,  and  that  dark  fiend, 

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444 


UAMQKlt. 


the  ememy  of  MaMhry  and  of  man, 
writhed,  and  groaned,  and  died:  it 
tell,  and  when  it  fell,  it  fell  like  Luci- 
fer, never  to  rise  again. 

How  unholy,  and  how  unmerited 
have  been  the  persecutions  of  Masonic 
institutions,  our  solemn  assemblage 
upon  this  day,  and  in  this  place, 
proves.  Why  are  we  assembled  ?  Is 
It  to  listen  to  the  shouts  of  revelry ;  is 
it  to  revile  the  Christian  religion  ?  Oh, 
no:  We  are  assembled  for  the  pur- 
pose of  shewing  our  respect  for  one  of 
Its  earliest  and  most  able  advocates ; 
one  whom  we  proudly  rank  amonest 
ourselves;  who  declared  that,  <Mn  Uie 
beginning  was  the  word,  and  the  word 
was  with  God,and  the  word  was  God.'' 

We  wish  not  to  cloak  our  mystic 
ceremonies  beneath  the  garb  of  reli- 
gion ;  nor  do  we  wish  to  impose  that 
upon  the  world  which  we  do  not  feel 
and  believe;  we  are  not  hypocrites  in 
heart ;  our  sentiments  and  feelings  are 
by  no  means  opposed  to  the  outward 
professions  which  we  make.  We  love 
order,  the  first  work  of  the  Almighty ; 
we  love  harmony,  we  love  virtue,  and 
we  adore  the  Author  of  them  all. 

If  an  institution  can  claim  any  title 
to  respect,  from  the  virtues  and  udents 
of  its  members,  the  Masonic  may  just- 
ly claim  a  more  than  ordinary  portion. 
To  our  own  country  be  the  first 
honour  given.  He  who  lived,  and 
ever  will  live  the  first  in  the  estima- 
tion of  Americans,  to  whose  memory 
every  honour  that  is  given,  is  but  the 
fair  reward  of  virtues,  talents,  and  in- 
tegrity ;  no  more  than  fragrant  incense 
to  which  the  shrines  of  the  greatly 
good  are  entitled ;  he,  the  great,  the 
immortal  Washington,  was  a  Masoq. 
He  loved  the  order,  and  was  proud  to 
patronize  it;  he  knew  its  principles, 
and  knowing,  he  approved  them. — 
Brethren,  what  could  I  say  more  to 
hush  those  who  are  its  enemies  ?  Was 
he  an  enemy  to  order  and  religion — 
perish  the  thought !  The  altar  of  his 
God  was  the  fint  object  of  his  vene- 
ration and  respect— 4he  good  of  his 
country  held  the  second  place  in  his 


i 


theogbtt:  Wat  he  aii  enemy  to  tlw 
riffhts  and  liberties  of  man  ?  Oh,  no : 
When  liberty  drooped  her  wings,  when 
the  dark  clouds  of  adversity  lowered 
around  her,  and  hope  was  nearly  ex- 
tinguished, wha  was  it  that  btaved  the 
battle  and  the  bceese  in  her  defeaee; 
nor  ever  deserted  her,  till  she  rtise  re- 
joicing from  the  wreck  of  her  foes,  and 
bestowed  her  hallowed  l^|«cy  upon 
America,  and  •  upon  man  ?  Brethrcn, 
it  was  Washington. 

We  may  name  a  Franklin,  too,  »• 
mongst  the  members  of  our  order ; 
friend  of  Washington,  the  friend  o( 
country,  and  the  friend  andenlij 
ener  of  man.  He  who  arrested 
thunderbolts  of  heaven  in  thdr  course, 
who  drew  the  lishtning  from  the 
clouds,  and  who,  when  dying,  bestow- 
ed upon  his  country  hit  lessons  of 
morality  and  virtue.  To  Masons,  these 
names  are  dear;  to  Americans,  they 
should  be  preciously  so ;  to  both  they 
are  bright  examples  of  the  elevatioa 
to  which  vutues,  and  talenU,  and  pa- 
triotism may  exalt  us. 

1  could  recite  a  long  list  of  namea 
eminent  in  every  virtue,  and  learned 
in  every  science,  who  have  esteemed 
it  a  proud  honour  to  wear  the  badge 
of  a  Mason.  But  why,  brethren,  need 
I  detain  you  by  the  recital;  efficient 
for  us  to  know  (and  the  world  cannot 
be  ignorant  of  the  fact)  that  some  of 
the  greatest  and  best  men  of  every 
country  have  been  Masoks,  and  bj 
the  purity  of  their  Uvea,  and  the  ho- 
nours bestowed  on  them,  given  inoon- 
testable  proofs  of  the  moral  tendency 
and  excellence  of  the  institution. 

David,  the  man  af^  G^d's  own 
heart,  and  Solomon,  Unkc.wH^sii  of  ali 
human  beings,  Vfere  Masons.  Oh,  that 
I  could  eradicate  from  the  breast  of 
every  individual  within  the  compass 
of  my  voice,  every  feeling  unlrieodW 
to  the  Masonic  institution;  that  I 
could  impress  indelibly  upon  th«r 
tninik  ^e  solemn  truth,  that  there  is 
not  one  regulation,  one  rule,  one  sign 
or  sgpshol  amongst  Mi\|ons,  and  be- 
longing to  the  onter,  irnidi  is  not  in 


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449 


«mi|4ete  MocMrdanee  widi  tbe  mott 
benevolent  and  charitable  principles 
of  tbe  Cbriatkui  retifioo. 

Tbe  MaiGuic  histitntion  b  often 
stigmatiied  on  account  of  tbe  errors  of 
its  members.  Bnt  surely,  upon  re- 
flection, it  must  be  acknowledged  that 
such  is  a  feeble  and  uncandid  objee* 
tion.  What!  condemn  a  whole  soci- 
ety for  the  faults  of  a  few  of  its  mem- 
bars;  say  that  their  regulations  cannot 
be  good,  because  the  conduct  of  some 
is  bad:  as  well  might  the  Christian 

«gion  be  reviled  because  its  profes- 
I  occasionally  stray  from  the  paths 
^rtue ;  and  yet,  who  has  had  the 
y  and  presumption  to  draw  such  a 
conclusion  from  such  an^mise;  and 
who  has  had  the  boldness  to  declare, 
that  because  its  profesiors  have  led 
immoral  lives,  there  exists  not  in  the 
religion  of  the  meek  and  humble  Jesus, 
morality  or  virtue.  Melancholy  would 
be  the  sentence  passed  upon  that  re- 
ligion, if  we  formed  our  judgment  of  it 
from  the  conduct  of  the  unworthy  part 
of  its  members. 

Te  who  call  yourselves  Christians, 
reflect  upon  this,  and  with  that  can- 
\  dour  and  liberality  which  should  ever 
mark  your  conduct,  examine  and  judge 
the  Masonic  institution;  though  char- 
ity is  its  brightest  jewel,  it  asks  it  not 
lor  itself;  justice  it  demands,  in  the 
proud  confidence  of  rectitude  and  vir- 
tue. Would  you  know  its  nature,  its 
objects,  and  its  pribciples ;  the  doors 
of  our  lodges  are  ever  ready  to  open 
to  the  worthy ;  if  ye  wish  information, 
se^  and  ye  shall  find,  knock  and  it 
shall  be  opened  unto  you. 

ft  is  frequently  asked — why,  if  the 
secrets  of  Masonry  would  benefit  man- 
kind, are  they  not  fully  disclosed  to  the 
wosld,  instead  of  being  locked  within 
the  bosoms  of  the  members  of  the  fra- 
ternity ?  Who  that  is  acquainted  with 
human  nature  does  not  know  that  fa- 
miliarity with  even  the  most  sublime 
objects,  renders  us  indifferent  to  their 
beauties.  The  sun  rises  in  the  east 
and  rolls  Its  fiery  course  to  the  regions 
of  the  west,  without  belpg  noticed :  the 


arch  of  peace  and  recoodUation  with 
man,  the  memento  o(  the  love  of 
God,  stretches  its  resplendent  colours 
through  the  heavens,  without  exciting 
more  than  ordinary  feeU^gs.  There 
is  nothing  novel  or  extraordinary  io 
the  sight;  we  hav«  marked  them  oftea 
before,  and  have  seen  them  slowly 
fade  from  our  view,  nor  felt  pleasure 
nor  pun  at  their  departure. 

The  lightning  which  glances  through 
the  air,  and  is  gone;  the  tornado 
which  prostrates  ue  works  of  nature 
and  art,  and  passes  on ;  the  earthquake^ 
which  levels  the  proudest  monuments 
of  human  glory,  and  tosses  earth  to 
her  centre,  are  necessary  to  rouse  us 
(torn  our  apathy  into-a  belief  of  our 
own  littleness,  and  the  mighty  power 
of  Him  who 

**  Rides  in  the  whlrlwiad  and  directs  the 
storm." 

Were  the  secrets  of  our  institution, 
which  have  existed  from  time  imme- 
morial, disclosed  to  the  world,  it  is 
probable  they  would  soon  be  neglected 
and  forgotten;  and  were  the  benefits 
of  Masonry  universally  bestowed,  they 
would,  like  every  thing  common  and 
promiscuous,  lose  their  value  in  the 
estimation  of  man,  and  sink  into  dis- 
regard. 

Let  us  therefore,  brethren,  continue 
to  screen  from  the  world„  what  with 
such  anxious  care  has  been  so  long 

Preserved:  nor  evfer  let  the  veil  be 
fted  to  those  who  are  not  worthy 
and  true. 

Secrecy,  brethren,  b  a  virtue,  and 
one  without  which  many  others  would 
lose  half  their  value.  It  is  beautifully 
and  emphatically  declared  by  the 
apostle  Paul,  that,  ^  as  for  a  wound  it 
may  be  bound  up ;  and  after  reviling, 
there  may  be  reconcilement;  but  he 
that  betrayeth  secrets  is  without  hope.^ 
The  pages  of  sacred  and  profane 
history  abound  in  commendations  of 
secrecy,  and  severe  and  deserved  re- 
prehension of  those,  from  whom  con- 
fidence shrinks,  and  who,  like  the  tell- 
tale rocks,  spread  far  and  wide,  every 
sound  that  is  given  them. 


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HtStOUCXL. 


God  bimselfy  the  sublime  Architect 
of  the  Uoiverse,  to  whom  we  are  bound 
by  every  tie  to  render  homage  and 
adoration,  is  the  repository  of  his  own 
aecrets.  Angels,  as  well  as  men,  are 
ignorant  of  his  intentions.  From  man 
he  conceals  futurity,  his  destiny  and 
fate :  seeing  as  he  does,  through  all 
eternity,  and  to  whom  the  "  regions  of 
futurity  are  opened  up,"  he  conceals 
irom  man  even  a  knowledge  of  to- 
morrow's fortune. 

*<  Where  is  to-morrow  ?  in  another  world. 
To  numbers  this  is  certain;  the  reverse 
Is  sore  to  none.*' , 

But  the  principles  of  Afasonry  are 
not  concealed  from  the  world ;  char- 
ity, love,  friendship,  and  all  the  vir- 
tues, are  the  objects  of  its  esteem,  the 
pillars  by  which  it  is  sup|»orted.  Let 
men  follow  them;  and  though  they 
bad  never  been  initiated  into  the  mys- 
teries of  Masonry,  though  its  keys 
have  never  been  intrusted  to  their 
care,  they  will  be  hailed  by  all  true 
Masons,  if  not  as  brothers,  yet  as 
friends. 

Masonry  consists  not  in  the  mere 
observance  of  forms  and  ceremonies, 
or  well  might  it  be  said  that  the  insti- 
tution was  unworthy  of  the  regard  of 
the  wise  and  good.  Our  forms  and 
symbols  are  'intended  and  calculated 
to  keep  bright  in  our  minds  the  duties 
we  ought  to  perform,  and  the  virtues 
we  ought  to  cherish  and  love.  They 
are  silent  but  constant  monitors;  they 
point  to  the  paths  we  ought  to  fo]k)^', 
and  admonish  us  when  we  have 
strayed  from  them. 

Brethren,  one  of  the  first  virtues 
which  our  institution  claims,  as  pecu- 
liarly characteristic  of  itself,* is  chari- 
ty. No  duty  is  more  strictly  incul- 
cated by  the  rules  of  our  order,  than 
to  be  zealous  and  active  in  contribut- 
ing to  the  wants  of  its  distressed  mem- 
bers. We  are  to  act  as  the  good  Sa- 
maritan of  old :  bind  up  the  wounds  of 
the  sufierio^,  and  pour  upon  them  the 
oil  of  consolation. 

Charity!  thou  noblest  of  themes! 


t^^ 

eflir 


What  sound  is  more  pleasing?  vr\M 
virtue  more  sublime?  To  contritrate 
to  the  wants  of  sofiering  humanity,  to 
support  the  drooping  spirit,  and  soothe 
the  burstrag  heart:  Oh!  God, can 
there  be  any  acts  of  man  more  worthy 
ofthyapprobation and  reward?  When 
care,  and  grief,  and  pain,  are  silemly 
sinking  a  fellow  being  to  the  dark 
damp  tomb, 

"  That  bourne  from  whence  no  traveller 
returns/* 

when  fortune  has  fled,  and  with  1 
has  fled  former  friends,  (so  called 
how  unworthy  of  the  name.)  Oh . 
gratifying  to  a  friendly  and  feeL-j 
heart,  to  have  the  means  of  minister 
ing  to  his  wants :  How  heavenly  the 
sensation  which  springs  from  the  per- 
formance of  such  an  action.  If  there 
be  any  virtue  which  brings  with  it  its 
own  reward,  'tis  thee,  O  Charity  1 
most  heavenly  of  the  virtues — It 
"  Opens  in  each  heart  a  little  heaven." 
And  according  to  the  language  of  the 
apostle,  "Shall  cover  a  multitude  of 
sins.'' 

I  charge  you,  then,  brethren,  as  you 
regard  the  symbols  which  yon  wear, 
and  as  you  have  at  heart  the  honour 
of  tlie  institution  to  which  you  belong, 
to  remember  this,  the  holiest  of  virtues. 
Is  a  brother  suffering?  does  his  widow 
mourn  ?  or  his  orphan  languish  ? 


*<  Swift  as  meditation,  or  the  thoughts  of 
love/* 

fly  to  their  relief;  exert  your  interest 
and  your  influence  in  their  behalf,  and 
the  Grand  Master  of  the  Univerae 
shall  reward  you.  Recollect  that  he 
who  givetb  to  the  poor  lendeth  to  the 
Lord. 

**  Did  sweeter  sounds  adom  my  flowing 

tongue, 
Than  ever  man  pronounced, or  angels  ^mag^ 
Had  I  all  knowledge,  human  and  divine, 
Which  thought  can  reach,  or  science  can 

define; 
And  had  I  power  to  give  that  knowledge 

birth,      . , 
In  all  the  speeches  of  the  babbling  earthy 
Did  Shadrach*t  zeal  my  glowing  breast  In- 
spire, 


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iQiIm 


ft 


To  wetky  tortares,  and  rejolo*  in  fire ; 

Or  had  I  foith  Rke  that  which  Itrael  saw, 

When  Moses  gave  the  miracles  and  law ; 

Yet  gracious  Chmrihf^  isdulgent  guest, 

Were  not  thy  power  exerted  in  my 
breast, 

Those  speeches  would  send  up  unheeded 
prayer, 

That  scorn  of  life  would  be  but  wild  des- 
pair. 

A  cymbal's  sound  ware  better  than  my 
voice ; 

My  faith  were  form,  my  eloquence  were 
noise." 

You  wear,  brethren,  the  badge  of 
loceoce  and  of  virtue ;  be  ye  there- 
always  ready  to  redeem  the 
which  you  have  given  to  the 
^1  that  the  purity  of  the  lanab 
lall  be  characteristic  of  your  conduct. 
Bj^herfy  Love,  like  the  exercise  of 
char^  binds  us  to  each  other,  and 
levels  the  precarious  distinctions  of 
fortune  or  birth.  The  savage,  amidst 
the  solitude  of  his  native  forest,  or 
ranging  his  sun-burnt  plain,  feels  the 
want  of  social  intercourse,  and  hails 
with  rapture  the  voice  of  a  fellow-be- 
ing. The  Indian,  as  he  paddles  his 
light  canoe,  suspends  the  labours  of 
his  oar  to  reflect  upon  some  loved  ob- 
ject which  remains  behind,  some  friend 
whose  care  and  smiles  have  converted 
his  little  wigwam  into  a  semblance  of 
'  lat  heaven,  which  his  moderate  wish- 
bade  him^exiiect  beyond  the  skies. 
Id  gratefully  offers  up  his  prayer  for 
their  welfare^  to  the  Great  Being — 
adored 

.    "  By  saint,  by  savage,  or  by  sage, 
Jehovah,  Jove,  or  Lord." 

Brethren,  we  are  bound  to  aid  and 
Msist  each  other  by  more  than  ordina- 
ry ties  and  feelings.  We  feel  In  com- 
mon with  the  rest  of  mankind  the  ne- 
cessity of  society,  and  the  obUgations 
which  its  benefits  impose  upon  us;  but 
we  have  ties  which  coanect  us  with 
each  other  which  the  world  knows  not 
of;  ties  of  a  sacred  and  holy  nature. 
It  would  then  be  in  us  a  poor  proof  of 
the  love  we  have  for  our  order  and  itt 
laws,  if  we  were  found  ia  this  respect 
less  social,  friendly,  and  harmonioos, 
thm  mankind  in  general. 


1 


'Tia  btroAerlM  bee,  and  tmivenal 
philanthropy,  wbf«:h  unite  man  to  man^ 
level  the  distinctions  of  rank,  connect 
the  tenant  of  the  cobweb'd  coctaga 
with  the  possessor  of  gorgeous  palaco, 
the  begnr  with  the  aing,  and  render 
the  whSe  human  race  one  family. 

Masonry  teaches  us  to  know  that 
we  are  all  travelling  towards  the  same 
country,  the  same  eternal  resting-place, 
where  no  distinction  exists,  but  where 
all  shall  be  received  upou  the  level  and 
the  square.  It  teaches  us  to  anticipate 
the  fortune  which  awaits  us  by  regard* 
ing  the  whole  human  race  as  our 
equals ;  and  by  paying  no  greater  re* 
sped  or  homage  to  one  than  another, 
except  as  a  reward  for  his  virtues  and 
talents. 

Brethren,  be  not  satisfied  with  a  per- 
formance of  the  virtues  which  I  have 
mentioned,  though  they  are  considered 
as  more  peculiarly  Masonic  than  any 
others,  yet  an  observance  of  them  by 
no  means  frees  us  from  the  perform- 
ance of  others.  The  whole  constella- 
tion is  supremely  worthy  of  our  exa- 
mination, and  there  is  no  one  star  in  it 
which  should  not  be  the  object  of  a 
Mason's  love.  Truth,  and  Temper- 
ance, and  Fortitude,  and  Prudence,  and 
Justice,  all  call  upon  us  for  esteem ; 
all  claim  our  homage,  and  as  Masons, 
and  as  men,  we  are  bound  to  obey. 

We  exclude  from  all  communication 
with  us  as  Masons  the  female  sex.  Va- 
rious reasons  have  been  assigned  for 
this  apparently  unfriendly  and  iUiberal 
cou»e  of  conduct.  By  some  it  has 
been  attributed  to  a  want  of  power  and 
firmness  on  their  part,  to  conceal  the 
secrets  with  which  they  would  be  en- 
trusted; their  incapacity  to  perform 
the  duties  of  a  Mason ;  and  by  some 
it  has  been  considered  as  the  conse- 
quence of  a  supposed  inferiority  and 
subserviency  to  man.  But  we  may,  I 
apprehend,  account  for  their  exclusion 
more  libeially  and  satisfactorily,  by 
imputing  it  to  an  anxious  solicitude  for 
the  peace,  order,  harmony  and  wel- 
fare of  the  institution. 

Love  has  accomplished  what  wealth 


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llASONtC. 


and  power  have  been  inadequate  to  per- 
form ;  by  it  reason  has  been  sabdued ; 
virtue  has  expired;  and  even  patriot- 
nm  has  trembled,  and  bowed,  and 
died. 

The  mighty  influence  which  such  a 
passion  might  have  in  the  subversion 
of  harmony  and  aflection  amongst  us, 
can  easily  be  conceived ;  that  sacred 
temple  which  should  only  resound  to 
mirth  and  friendship,  might  be  con- 
verted  into  a  frightiful  arena,  where 
green-eyed  jealousy,  and  dark  revenge, 
would  exercise  their  malignant  sway 
beyond  the  po^r  of  control. 

Love  is  not  an  ordinarv  passion ;  its 
progress  is  imperceptible  but  steady, 
until  it  has  coiled  around  every  feeling 
and  stifled  every  opposing  thought  or 
reason. 

"  Then  wisdoiAprostrate  lies,  and  fading 

fame 
Dissolves  in  air  away." 

But  Woman  is  not  less  the  object  of 
a  Mason's  aflection,  than  she  is  of  those 
who  know  it  only  by  name.  The  feel- 
ings of  a  Mason  are  not  cold  and 
misanthropic,  but  warm,  social,  and 
friend^. 

'Tis  the  fear  of  Woman's  influ- 
ence which  excludes  her,  and  not  a 
want  of  respect  for  her.  A  Mason  re- 
gards woman  as  the  choicest  gift  of 
heaven ;  the  partaker  of  his  pleasures, 
the  soother  of  hb  cares ;  fi  ithout  whom 
Paradise  would  have  bloomed  and 
blossomed  in  vain,  and  man  have  lived 
a  gloomy  being. 

"  O  Woman,  in  oar  hours  of  ease, 
Unoertain,  coy,  and  hard  to  please ; 
IVhen  sorrow  marks  oar  languid  broW, 
A  minbtering  angel  thou. 

^  Though  the  rdes  of  our  institution 
exclude  you  from  our  assemblies,  you 
are  not  less  rapturously  remembered 
by  us  than  by  every  individual,  who 

Ss  within  him  a  heart  which  throbs 
God's  mofC  beauteous  work. 
May  this  day,  dedicated  to  the  me- 
mory ^f  the  holy  St.  John,  be  ever 
revered  and  held  sacred  by  us ;  and 
ever  upoa^it,  may  it  be  the  prood  pri- 


vilege of  Masons  to  meet  toffetber  $a 
we  have,  to  do  honour  to  the  Great 
Founder  of  our  institutions,  and  those 
who  have  done  honour  to  its  name. 
May  the  great  Architect  look  down  on 
our  worbi  with  pleasure;  may  we 
emulate  the  virtues  of  him  we  cele- 
brate; may  our  actions  be  so  squared, 
and  our  wanderings  from  the  line  of 
rectitude  so  related,  that  when  time 
with  us  shall  have  ceased,  and  eternity 
written  (mr  names  upon  its  never-end- 
ing scroll,  we  may  be  accepted  into 
the  bright  mansions  of  the  blessed^ 
rec^v^  fts  true  and  worthy  bretT 
into 
«  That  Grand  Lodge  that*s  far  awa." 

AMEN.      80  MOTB  IT  BE. 


>d  into 
edjjiii^ 


# 


THE  CHRISTIAN  MASON. 

NO  in. 

It  was  justly  observed  by  an  enligfat* 
ened  brother  and  chaplain  of  our  cral), 
the  Rev.  Salem  Town,  that  <^  notwith- 
standing the  system  may  be  abused, 
and  its  principles  perverted  by  men 
of  corrupt  hearts  and  licentious  con-       i 
duct;  notwithstanding  individual  mem-  ^ 
bers  may  bfiriig  odium  on  the  Masonic  ^ 
name  by  an  irreligious  life;  and  not- 
withstanding some   lodges   may-  in^PJ 
properly  neglect  disdpW  and  dut|| 
by  sufiering  disorderiy  members  to  paas 
with  impunity — ^yet  these  defecU  do 
not  nubvert  the  fvndamaUal  prmd' 
pies  of  the  epetem^  or  in  aity  fM-       i 
portant  sense  aiter  the  real  nature  of 
the  institution.     The  same  interest- 
ing truths  are  retained,  and  the  sane 
duties  continue  solemnly  bfhding,  and 
must  be  thus  considered,  as  long  as 
virtue  shall  retain  its  amiable  nature, 
and  religion  and  morality  necessarily 
promote  the  happiness  of  mankind." 

It  is  with  MAsoifiiT,  as  with  Reu- 
oion;  it  consists  of  an  tntenui/soQl  or 
essence,  and  an  external  body,  form, 
and  ceremonies;  the  former  intended 
to  be  manifested  by  and  through  the 
latter.  But  as  in  all  religions  there 
are  nuoMrous  hoHow-hearted  profet. 

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s«rty>»fa&cKiMl  opoalimeiMbiaVsiiiu 
fmee  of  tbrir  peculiav  cte^di  Md  te» 
ri«U»  vilhout  seeking'  fpr^ov  partakkbgi 
otf!  tl»  igtfm^  ahcb  ememce  HPi^Kki ;  «» 
aie  tbere  fa  aaay  nemmtd  MMOosy 
wlk>  ore  wdl  vcbed  in  the  eitvfimi 
symbols  of  the  craft,  but  are  oMiteilt  m 
rmmiwim^tiiaify  ifiDraof  of  tkat  wptHt- 
^mt  Mmm.  U  teih  i^bob,  suek  mat 
a»iB  asriMTBbk  tiete  of bJiMaon 
aMi  «nrw|  basfkig  ibesbaoitUile'  tratf' 
vhUb  tlieiv  nadb^vhidi  tlM3r 
in*9  bufjautC'  ifaeiji  dpobt 
Blit'wiMt  «ol%l4iei0A 
>t  Me^tUt  to  stfM^atr  atliv 
Btea^  n^nhiail^ 
sAi  -fift^  k  to  sefwate  i» 
AkMffaiy  A«thor;  awl  vpiiae 

KfS,  iflPicb  a  €Me^  h«t  «ra  Aodji^  i«ill»r 

6r  as  a  Ai«fc  •nMTwft  hdot  iis  hefmd  P 
jimd  irhslrfift^lelMDe  aak,  can  besiHK 
posed  to  be  derired  fmmmlksdboil^ 
os.tstalAOlinsliiBeBCfoitiadead  hiuk 
om^Mt^  AndyetreUgiDii  wafriiit^iid* 
64  t#  give  l^  rmm  ^titue^  Itfe^ 
isllH^ii  k-lmititirtaU 
.   The  saiM  DNMrk  will  appljr,  wida 

>sq^pal  Umiii,  tm  MASONivr ;  ibif  a  mese 
ea^^ww/'  Maaoi  itatxIoiilMe  of  the 
it»s>l^ml  uleasssaa  wkkh  aie  Isbe 
il^fipnit  frffpi  Ike  sontsniplatioA  of  ka 
rmghtftA  i^yateim^  as  tfat.  veli^biis 
hjpBWiti^ is  sf spiritual  grafa,  Tboi^ 
h»jsm9  k^  irieU  vMod  ift  the  aaaaeaof 
tj^^lfffvM^'.iNtMl  Ae-  raMval  <edk»o 
yaWflW^Cibg  onOly  lilt  aseiitk^oM 
lik^  sarapeg  mi  ^dhaf 'lika  a  {mun 
cot.  ; 

cpp^aiWBkPts  of  this  Olivias' inaltta* 
Uqsi»  Ti^jrkiiofi^tkilt  tktesA'  a  psarl 
hiftip^JlhafieM,'  aAdiAsyseanikdilM 
gesidgi^  viitii  disy  fiad  it.»  The^am 
eveiLaM)r«  sagerui  tke  paisuk  of  tbtt 
spki^uAr  j^aadtfifofy  aidpctctoot 
sipfissy  wki<cb  lie  soaesaM  aader  die 
fluiaM  of  the  pagesaf  B^vetatloB^  than 
thajf  are  ia- i^niWiNigi  tkai  siaiffaal 
g^  ap4  siber,  aad  tkoas  maiwitd 
precioui  tionesy  whkh*  lie^  kid  a»: 
daa*  tb^  savfi^a  of  thi  ^sfOu  Their 
torn  U  t^  M()4«^Msd  iosre^:  i;;fi^   ^ 


isthM  a 


i«r 


ear  of  MdMr  UtosiM^  oaf  af  the  Mi 
of'  SHiteriar  iimg9$f  hMo  the  IMnjjt 
/arsif  of  et€raa/  realities,  aad  t6^ 
tbaasko  ara  also  devsted  aceofdingl)^ 
A  aauDwko  ha^  thus  entered  into  IM 
tvae  ipifit  Bn&prmdpk^^  Masohkv} 
eqojs  a  aiost  brilliaiie  vkar,  (alDSdH 
too  dnnliBg;  for  tk^  anamal  eye,)  of 
tka  tagagkig  aitribiitea,  dtfioe  beaat 
I  tffs,^  and  aever<baag(Qg  goadoessot' 
kar great  Creaa>r;  aodeveiy  man  pasz 
sesses  a  sapacity  fo»  tkus  tntarlng'  ima 
ikr  6^aiefli«i  Skngiarmm  aT  the  mystid 
Temple.  If  in  humility,  and  the  feaf 
o#  the  Losd^  keaseks  t^s  ilkusmattoD 
aWiiqBakiisWkdlge,  ss  a  priocifA^  sT 
kaavenly*  light,  for  sjiirlieal  directioH| 
to  k^faim:Ja  tke  waj^  af  righmouii 
odM  andlf^itaafatfiott,  toioanArm  Ml 
fiakk,  to  parify  Iria  lo¥e,  aod  4hos  t« 
kmm  himsetfap  in  a  godlyi  liik ;  if  b* 
ssady  to  be  aapMiated^wMi  kcaveidji 
Biysteries,  oal^  tbat  tbe  spkil  of  tuaw 
may  be  more  ^ly  d^saed^  ahd  moiS 
psarerfiiUy  aperatite  ki  bis  will',  htt 
aaderstaading,  and  aetkinS ;  he  witf 
Uiea  do  it  ia  the  spirit  aad  mknata 
wkich  emsw^  stiocess:  And  what  par^ 
sett  can  be  BX>fe  profitable,  wkatinora 
caimmendaUe,  than  that  of  mViraal 
hrnidedge^  or  a  dil^nt  sesacai^  for 
tke  (reastcfraof dfsifte  fraell^  §mi^ 
ly  wa  may  say.  of  koowlod|;e,  ^^f^ij^ 
al^nis  sncih  ^  Spirit,  vaA  appHscTia 
such  kody  purposes,  whai  is  said  hi  fkk 
pro^hM  coacehiiag!  l*y»e^  ^  Hi»  st^d 
ckandiM  4md  ket  iWra  lAMie  Mtaeii 

Waa  evei[7>f9)^  msia'an  intmtui 
Masonj fxid  every  Mom^  afeood  maaj 
tktn  wodd  a  g#ekt  portioa  of  the 
holy  Wloffd  be  radteaied  fraaa  the  al^ 
aioit  talal  iBglaot  ^  wlifck  it  is  bo# 
eiqiased  sb  tke  Chriatiaii  wo#4d.  U 
wouMtfaea  be  sao^tkat  tke  CM  Testis 
aiient  (aw  wdLas.thal[ew)ooataiB6  Iki 
aiysteries  of  Haave^lpimdtkat  aif  an^. 
every  chiag.tktreia  hasipetaiioa'to  thi^ 
Loid^  his  Beave%lBis'ckardi)  andtUi 
le^eiiBMiaa  of  asasv  FWf  whila  th# 
htttw  Off  Hterml  setee^  stiggests  only 
sacktkk]iaasfaspsct4he  &xiermiUriim 
yidomdioaMli  tfMiaufewidhveksMkrf 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


4» 


HASONIV. 


the  bdemai  or  ifptrttoo/tefiM.mggeito 
an  infinite  number  of  spiritual  lesaoas^ 
^  for  dodrinej  reprw^  ;  cotrecium^ 
md  ituintctian  in  righteimtmeuJ^ 
But  thete  things  do  not  appear  in  these 
txiemalritee  and  eeremomiety  exoeft 
in  a  few  cases  vhicb  the  Lord  reveal- 
ed and  unfolded  to  the  apostles^  as, 
that  saorifiees  are  significative  of  the 
Lord ; '  that  the  land  '<^  Canaan  and  Je- 
rusalem are  significative  of  Heaven, 
on  which  account  we  jead  of  the 
heavenly  Canaan  and  Jerusaknt^  and 
also  of  Paradise. 

It  is  impossiUe  toaee,  fron  the  sense 
nf  ttue  letter  only,  that  the  jcripturss 
are  full  of  such  spiritual  contents ;  as 
in  the  case  of  dw  first  chapters  of  Ge^ 
ietisy  nothing  is  discoverable  to  the 
iiere  exiemai  Mason^  ar  nomcwii 
christian,  but  that  they  treat  ofiitf  of 
the  cremticm  of  the  worlds  and  of  the 
Garden  of  Eden,  called  Paradise,  and 
also  of  Adam,  as  the  first  created  man. 
But  the  internal  enlightened  Masom 
knows  that  they  contain  myslertes  of 
infinitely  higher  importance  to  the  soul 
of  man.  In  the  first  chapter  of  Gene* 
sis,  he  not  only  discovers  a  brief  ac-: 
count  of  the  creation  of  the  material 
world,  but  also  an  elaborate  and  par- 
ticular account  of  the  iVets  Creation  of 
Man^  or  of  his  regeneratioa  in  general; 
mad  of  the  moet  andent  Church  (in 
the  scripture  called  Adam)  in  particu- 
lar ;  and  ^s4n  such  a  beautiful,  har* 
monidis,.  and  connected  manner,  that 
there  is  not  a  single  wt>rd  which  daaa 
not  r^senf ,  s^^j^mltmp/y  some- 

Tbe  aix  day  of  C»«ATioii*(for  in* 
stance)  rtpresraty  signif)^  and  imply, 
six  di&rent  emin,  or  six  sneeestive 
degreee,  through  which  every  man 
mustpaiis  who  becomes  anvBMBRATBD, 
and  fitted  for  aoAesthd  lifo  eteraaV  in 
the  heavens.  Aner  passing  through 
these  SIX  sMet  or  degreee,  he  arrives 
at  theaeocii(^  which  being  a  state  of 
eelestml  gooitaiess,.  may  truly  be  said 
to  be  a  Sabbath  of  rest ;  because,  in 
that  state,  even  all  temptaium  to  com- 
mit sin  will  ^eaiei  so  that  the  Lorc^ 


Ota  i|a|^ 

'daf 

(ses  ]|  th« 


that" 


(who  fights  for  man  in  all  hiastaiei  of 
temptation,)  does  indeed  rest  from  hie 
labour  with  respect  to  the  HMfividual 
who  is  thus rMenerated«  Thetea^>la 
is  now  reboik — the  rotal  Aac»  ia 
formed,  and  aU  the  glory  is  ascribed  io 
the  Lord. 

The  reason  why  the  six  stotoa  or 
degrees  through  which  the  spiriitad 
Maeom,  (or  the  regenerate  roan,)  «msI 
thus  pass^  are  called  the  i/ajf^  of  M$ 
creaiiemf  is,  hecaose  in    hb 
unregenerate  state,  he  ia  not  a 
that  ia,  he  is  not  ^  the  tmo^ 
nest  of  God,''  which  was 
dcnomhiatedhimmafi;  hifsanl 
a  <'  tempkfortkeMoei  HigkJ 
as  he  advances  and  progresses 
work  of  reforoMtion  and  legeaifariOtt, 
he  acquires,  ^  hfliHU  amdUUJey^^  thai 
which  properly  oonstitutes  him  a  rtoi 
man  J  or  a  temple^  until  he  arrive  at 
the  tioak  etate  or  ffa^ree. 

Duriiq[aU  this  time,  the  Lord  fi^ila 
far  him,  and  mi  him,  though  man  am^ 
jMort  to  do  the  work  himself;  andtUa 
appearance  is  permitted,  in  order  that 
BUin  may  reap  tha  reward  of  the  vio-  , 
tory.  It  b  on  this  acconnt  that  a  re-  ^ 
generate  man  is  called,  by  the  prophet,  ^ 
theworkofthejmgereofiSod;  nor 
does  the  Lord  cease  thus  to  operate, 
until  LOVB  becomes  the  prmdpal 
agent,  and  then  die  comlmt  and  labonr 
are  over.  When  the  work  is  so  fiur 
perfected,  that  he  no  kmget  ads  right 
nsereiy  from  a  principle  otobedkmce^ 
but  because  he  foeet  to  do  so,  tfaea  Ms 
state  is  pronounced  ^  very  good^  as 
mveraeSt;  wbafeaseach  ofhisj^re- 
moue  sMet  was  merely  prooonneeC 
good.  Atthe  deseofthemajrAiky, 
represented  by  the  ndfctA  die^ree  m  Ma- 
soMBT,  the  evil  spirits  (which  had  been 
tempting  him,  and  against  whose  in- 
floence  be  had  to  contend)  leave  him, 
and  good  ones  succeed  in  their  frtace, 
and  the  foithfol  candidate  is  intFoduced 
into  a  aeleatial  Fsradise,  Kpreseothig 
a  state  of  perfect  regeneratkm  and  m* 
temal  hat^ness. 

fomy  next,  I  shall  enter  more  mi- 
nucely  iifto^  this  hiterestinygyect,  and 

Digitized  by  VjOO*^:^^^^" 


ibfl»  dH.pMieiikr  cotMepoadetce  of 
Mcb  d^ree  la  Masonet,  with  each 
«ate  of  regeoeratioo, 

THE  CHRISTIAN  MASON. 
No.  IV. 

Wboso  readeth,  let  him  andentand. 

I  ahftfl  B0W9M  propoted,  piocted  to 
trace  the  correspondence  andaoelosy 
which  exist  between  the  sefend& 

tof  AIamnrt,  and  the  several 
through  which  thesptriftia/trn- 
■Mist  pass  in  his  joomey  from 
tA  the  heavenly  Canaan.  In  do- 
Sy  it  is  piesnaed  it  will  also  ap- 
pear^ that  these  several  t^olet  of  re- 
^mmemlUom  are  ficnrattvely  described 
Wm  sany  iBsforico/ parts  of  the  Wobd 
'nf  Oedy  and  (consequently)  that  Ma- 
aontT,  by  virtue  of  its  being  derived 
firoB,  and  founded  on  those  very  parts 
nf  the  holy  Woai^y  is  of  Divine  origin. 
I  shall  confine  myself,  however,  prin* 
^lally,  to  the  Scriptare  history  of  the 
lonr  following  grand  events,  m,  the 
baBdin^of  the  universe,  the  arfc,  ^be 
k  taboronde,  and  the  tea^  at  Jerusa- 
f  Im. 

Now  almost  every  one,  who  is  mere- 
ly exfemul^  a  Mason,  can  easily  per- 
ceive wbercm  Masonic  operations  sig- 
■iff  and  represent  these  four  events ; 
hot  those  only  who  have  left  the  sur- 
fmot,  and  entered  into  the  9phrk  and 
nmm€t  of  these  mysterious  operations, 
can  perceive  wherein  they  represent 
and  signify  the  rebuUdmg  of  toe  son/ 
sf  man,  in  order  that  t^  may  become  a 
iiiemple  for  the  residence  of  the  Most 


Bi^ 
The 


Rev.  brother  whom  we  have 
before  i|noted*  thus  expresses  himself 
sn^is  interesting  subject.  **  The  fiint 
of  thoe  grand  aiKi  sublime  events,  both 
hilheonlerof  nature  and  time,  was 
that,  when  by  the  voice  of  Omnipo- 
tence, sleeping  nature  awoke,  and  the 
tet  flqod  of  light  burst  upon  the  astOQ- 

?TheB«v.  Silem  Town's  Spteilative 

lluonry. 


MASiHIC.  4H 

Ished  world.  Amtm^aBmonio 
tkU  event  appearM  in  the  fint  degree 
of  Masonry,  An  audible  voice  is 
heard  by  the  candidate,  which  is  fol* 
lowed  by  scenes  new,  mysterious,  beau- 
tiful and  sublime.  Woe  it  admiuible 
to  mmmerate  the  eerenfumite  of  initial 
tiony  every  penonwoiild  at  once  M^ 
coper  »  n^mfeet  rhference  to  the 
creation  qfthe  maiertalworW^ 

Now  if  this  be  admitted,  (as  it  must 
be  by  every  enlightened  Mason  f)  and 
if  I  can  prove  that  in  the  history  of  tht 
Creation  mav  be  discovered  an  equally 
<<  manliest  allusion*' to  tbere-crfotfoii, 
or  new  hirtk  of  a  penitent  souI|  then, 
it  followsi  as  a  necessary  consequence^ 
that  the  several  degreee  of  Masonry 
have  a  ^<  matkifost  allosion''  to  the  sev* 
eral  itQtee  through  which  every  con* 
didate  for  Heaven  must  pass,  in  the 
mysterious  and  wonderful  proceseof 
r^neration.  But  let  us  deKend  to 
particulars. 

Every  man  while  i»-4ufl  natural 
state,  is  in  disorder.  His  mind,  how- 
ever, well  cultivated  and  enriched  by 
human  leantiag,  is  a  <<  rude,  chaotic, 
shapeless  mass,''  destitute  of  Ufe  and 
Kgnt,  He  walks  in  spiritual  darkness, 
and  thinks  he  is  all  the  while  in  a  state 
of  marvellous  illumination.  His  will 
and  afl^ctioas  ate^^  without  form,  and 
void,  and  darkness  is  upon  the  face  of 
the  deep"  recesses  of  his  understand- 
ing. But  ^^the  Spirit  of  God  moves 
upon  the  face  of  the  waters  f*  in  other 
words,  while  he  is  in  this  state  of  dboQt 
and  confusion,  he  is  ever  and  anon  invi* 
ted,and  even  solkated  bv  God,(throo|^ 
the  instrumentality  of  his  ministering 
ang^Sf  who  operate  upon  the  con- 
science)  to  aspire  after  higher,  and 
more  substantiai  enjoyments.  On  the 
ether  hand,  h^  is  as  earnestly  solicited 
by  other  invisible  agents,  (who  operate 
through  the  passions)  to  reject  the 
kind  admonitory  overtures  of  his  real 
friends,  and  to  descend  still  lower  in 
the  gnoification  of  hit  sensoal  appo* 
tites. 

Thus  situated,  between  two  attract 
tive  powers,  man  choosei  for  himsil^ 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


9»  MOi 

ayTirtteof  dmt  fne  wiU  whfoh  Qo4 
0  ^iveii  to  all  the  faaman  race)  the 
ooQTse  lie  inteods  to  puFsqe — whether 
il  be  to  obey  the  dietatet  oioomdencej 
orto  remain  the  wretched  vsssail  of  hit 
own  natural  and  corivpt   iugt9  and 
fOMwions,     if  he  h  wise  enfwgh  to 
choose  theionnery  and  obeys  the  Jcind 
tfhnoQitkm  of  tho*  itwmbk  agenU 
(who  are  omttantly  solicittiig  him  to 
become  mtiated  in  the  work  of  Yc^n- 
ioBtion,  so  aa  to  becoaw  a  member  of 
ifcie  anmUcyralemi^)  he  immediately 
^^  lAm  im  judicious  deferminatfoa, 
pBi  good  resolutions,  are  acquiring 
strength  frotm,  the  heavenly  suggestions 
^irhkh  are  whispered  t»  his  nim  by  his 
fBgelic,  bat  mvisiUe  frienA.    He  at 
lei^  consents  to  yield  himself  op  to 
thenr  direction  and  goidsncey  and  ofo- 
mng  his  eyes  to  the  carnal  delights 
^riiich  had  so  lon^kept  hbn  chained  to 
theiBartii,and  turtunghis  back  upon  his 
former  pernicious  advisers,  he  soiers 
lasMtlf  to  be  Inf  in  a  aew  and  opposite 
dif«^ion.    No  sooner  is  the  Ugkt  of 
i|aitdre  ^ms  shlit  out,  than  he  finds  ium- 
Sflf  in /otal  doribMw,  awl,  for  the  first 
time,  feels  the  want  and  necessitv  of 
tibat^MiHmi  UgM  to  which  he  bad 
heretofore  been  n  stranger.   He  is  now 
inade -sensible  of  wlut  he  rcaHy  is  by 
iature;  thai  instead  of  bekig  ^  rick, 
and  incr^eed  with  goods,  and  having 
liAcd  of  nothing,"  as  he  had  fondly 
hnt  falsely  imagined,  he  *^  is  wsetcbed 
asd  miseral^  and  iioor,  and  Muui, 
asdfia&e«i"  He  finds  Umself groping 
in  darlme$9^  starting  with  h<HTor  at 
Ae  groom  and  ekrieioi  oi  anguish 
^vhi<^  sahite  his  asental  ear,  accompa* 
nted  with  die  tlamkmg  ofckmm^  and 
iJmgmai^umgoiUeik. 

'  This  is  a  atate  of  nreparalieMi  which 
always  precedes  the  first  itep  in  the 
pttth  of  r^reneratuM,  For  without 
being  thus  reduced  to  a  state  othtmH* 
anA  dq^emdencty  no  one  would 


ifum 


of  Sill  rasas  iMMly  sswMi  .of 
mem,  in  wl)iohlM»4iad  hitlRito  pUseei 
his  supreme  delight  twsstHing  wilb 
terror  at  the  tlu:$9|^|UjQg  dangers  which 
rapidly  thicken  around  hini — and  de- 
pending solely  on  his  im&itibleeomlMC^ 
tort  for  support,  ip^tiniction,  and  con- 
solation. In  this  state  of  debaeemeld 
is  lie  contemplated  by  that  mercifiol 
JBeiiig  who  has  assured  Ihs  fseaiiienl 
ehildieu  that  <<h«  wfaoih»s&2af&  kim^ 
sej/'shftU  beemfteil,^'' tfaist  Deinf  «faa 
fdone  can  caU  ordler  am  of  cAqos^  j 
wbo,  in  ibe  pleoitiKle  of  hiai 
ffi«j0»  has  said,  ^  aek^  snd  ye  i 
omf^i  seei,  aud.yeafaaUjibcf  ^ 
^nd'it  shnll  be;  qpennluniD  ym^" 
viewing  his  pentiaatdHldlbasosjbnif, 
ieekingf  and  knookimg  te  admittnafle 
into  the  $trmi  geite^  ^pU^  lo>^  ^ 
lighiy  ^  He  gives  hii  angels  chargs' 

icoaceniing  him"  who  ^  hs^d  tim  m  a 
path  which  he  kooMs  not." 
A  state  like  ihat  «hichl  have  kem 
attempted  briery  to  describe,  nay  wd 
beoompartdto  th^ciloos  whichfir^- 
eeded  the  first  davn  of  light  in  dii 
process  of  or^tfioii-^Hfrfaeo  f<  the  eaeik 
ires  without  Com  and  liuid,  and  dad^ 
ness  was  upon  the  face  of  the  deqi.'^ 
For  pnevious  to  repentance  and  dsa- 
versioOy  m«A  is  lotaJly  destitute  of  ai^ 
real  gooimm  or  tmik  his  wiU  being 
em^*  snd  i^oidlof  any  victuoua  /our, 
and  (hs  understanding  being  e^uallv 
destitute  of  heavenly  Hf^  and  tmu^ 
but  shrouded  in  the  deepest  dorisMUs. 
li  is  then  that  the  Spirit  of  God  mors 
eflectualiy  *'  moves  upon  the  iisce  of 
the  waters,"t  or  in  otfaar  words,  ^^v* 
paras  to  t?<m^  the  seeds  of  virtue  and 
godliness  which  had  been  sown  in  the 
bttsa^n  mind  by  education. 

As  such  a  freparaiorif  stafeof  hat 
mility  may  be  tinis  compaiod  lo  the 


*The  Ifebrew  wo^d  wbi^  bss  ^^ 
translated  **  toUhotU  fprm"  in  the  secoM 
vene  of  the  first  chapter  of  Genesis,  b  ipcm 
properly  rendered  "  wiqily.*'    •  '  ^ 


{fy  and  tf^ieistfeiior,  no 

omuemt  to  be  kdomtntrd  by  the  Lord, 

and  conseeuently  no  one  coold  be  sa* 

v^    ButtheoC-seei^^  es^th'^lrr^liiir  L'^^^^^^^^^ 

buve  now  behoMs  Ae  humble  candi-  l^^\^^^^^  in  oiSS? to  sm>»  WtauJ! 

#te/atf>softHlMVohamurifyiii«piCed  I  Bd 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


IfAM^lHS. 


45S 


ttem^dntaeM  #MeIi  ^tvMed  the 
«Mftti«n  of  tlM  wovM,  »  also  may  H, 
irkk  wpn^  pwpri«ly,  be  compared  to 
llMt  wore  ^eaif^  eiWKM  which  pr^ 
46cM  4he  balking  of  the  ^A;  by  Noah, 
for  tf ibe  aioral  and  intellectoal  woild 
«f  aiai  cao  be  properly  compared  to 
this  aialerial  worhl,  (as  we  see  it  ean 
lo  tlie  .foregoing  fgure  of  creation) 
Jidiat  oao  be  move  proper  than  to  com- 
pare^tfae  evils,  errors^  and  eorraptioDS 
•f  fidlen  natiMre,  to  a  flood  of  waters, 
jg^wfadatting   and    destroying  such 
ttjuti  or  intellectual  woild  ?  But  if  any 
HBts  exist  as  to  ibe  justness  of  this 
Vrnparison,  there  b  sufficient  Scrip- 
ture testimony  to  remove  tl^em.    It  is 
evident    that    the    PsaLxust    prayed 
against  the  inpate  corruptions  of  bis 
nature,  (as  they  were  operated  on  and 
influenced  by  evil  spirits^)  when  h^ 
s^id — *^  Let  not  the  uxUerJiood  over- 
flow me,  neither  let  the  deep  svFallow 
itfe  up  j"  and  in  another  place — ^^  Th^ 
proud  waters  had  gone  even  over  my 
soul  f*  and  again — ^  The  JU)od8  of 
ongodty  men,  for  evil  spirits]  made 
me  afraid/'    From  these,  and  many 
other  similar  passages,  it  is  evident,  to 
the  illunrioated  Mioson,  that  there  is 
mf)h  a  tbiflg  as  a  morale  mteHeetaal, 
l«d  fpiri^lMrf jlooc/,  and  that  it  consists 
io  BB^erfiamfig  of  ungodliness,  or  of 
those  €pifji^rqpenii^ei  and/oiie  per- 
9inamm»7  which  a^wrale  mao  finoM 
Heav^W.     This  iood,  tbereCbre,  is  iar 
iiore  lerrible  wad  destnictire  than  any 
which  destroys  oply  the  bodies  of  men, 
lor  it  d^EOWDs  tad  destroys  ihe  soul, 
%  separaMpgit  from  ita  only  premier 
Itfr,  Uie  fayjQur^  the  love,  the  mercy, 
mid  blessiag  of  the  Geeat  Fathka 
INT  BspH?.     This,  theredfore,  is  the 
f^  tp  urbkh  our  Saviaur  .dUiodea, 
when  he  says — ^'^  Asit  was  i&  the  days 
of  Noah,  so  shall  it  be  la  the  days  of 
the  Son  9f  Man,^  &c. 

To  preserve  our  soiib  from  the  fatal 
fffects  of  such  a  flood,  we  are  all,  like 
ffoah,  commanded  to  "  make  us  an 
arkj^*  or,  in  other  words,  to  repent  tmd 
lie  converted— for  that  alone  can  avert 
thetbreatenii^  ndo  and  dentructioa. 


ITi^  are  commanded  to  5tttZcf  the  ark^ 
to  sbo^'  us  that  without  our  consent  and 
dHigeot  cthoperaiitmy  tbe  work  of  re- 
geoeratioo  iAW  never  be  efiected  ia 
our  hearts  and  lives;  and  the  only 
mamier  in  which  we  can  co-operutCf 
is  by  becoming  humble,  wiping,  and 
obedient.  But  how  gloomy  and  dread- 
ful is  our  situation  when  we  first  fed 
tbe  necessity  of  building  this  spirltuat 
ark«  Death  states  us  in  tkefacey  and 
we  are  almost  constrained  to  cry  out 
with  David,  ^<  Let  Dot  the  water-flood 
overflow  me,  nmtber  let  the  deep  fwal- 
lowme  up.^  Who  cannot  see  that 
this,  also.  Is  a  state  preparatory  to  the 
great  and  mysterious  work  of  regent 
mtkm^  Por  that  the  httHdin^  an  ark 
has  such  a  sph4tual  allusion,  is  mani- 
fest  from  the  authority  of  an  Apostle, 
who  ia  speaking  of  the  deliverance  of 
Noah  and  his  famHy,  in  the  ark,  ex- 
presses himself  in  these  remarkabte 
words — f*  The  Hke  figure  wheretmto 
evei^  baptism  doth  aho  now  save 
us.^  Agreeable  to  tMs  tpostoU^ 
testimony,  the  ark,  whidi  Koan  of  old 
was  commanded  to  prepare,  was  a 
figure  of  ie^ptfiasi,  or,  as  his  expressed 
in  the  original,  baptism  was  tms  anti» 
/ype  of  tl^  spying  ark;  and  since  5ap- 
tismt  in  Its.  spiritual  sense,  stgaifiesjw* 
rificutionfromevUy  and  thus  f^ftit^ 
ration^  therefore  purification  9^  ra* 
generation  were  wo  Jigured  by  tl^ 
ark  of  okl. 

Want  of  room  will  prevent  my  pca- 
ceediiv;  ainy  iarther  in  ^bis  number; 
but  it  is  piresumed  that  the  reader  is 
by  thia  time  prepared  to  see  the  same 
con^esppodeace  hold  eoodas  relates  to 
tbe  construction  of  the  tabernacle  by 
Moses,  and  the  huildii^  (jf  the  tamp)« 
bySolpmqn. 


SEVENTH  LECTURE  j 

ROYAL  ARCH  BBQREB. 

I  This  august  degr^  b  the  summit  of 
ancient  Masonty»  and  far  exceeds  all. 
th?  pre(c«4in^  iu  hw)ty>  l^lii^uilyj  and 

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454 


uAMOsae* 


inportance.  It  is  cidc«tated  to  im- 
press on  the  niiiidy  the  ^  being  and 
existence  of  a  supreme  Deity,  without 
beginning  of  days,  or  end  of  yeara^*' 
and  forcibly  to  remind  us  of  the  reve- 
rence due  to  his  Holy  Name.  Base 
indeed  must  be  that  man,  who,  after 
travelling  thus  far,  can  calmly  hear  the 
name  of  the  Supreme  Hich  Priest  of 
the  Universe  used  in  any  other  manner, 
than  with  <^  reverential  awe ;''  or  in 
any  degree  countenance  disobedience 
to  his  commands. 

Many  of  the  essentials  of  the  craft, 
which  were  buried  in  darkness  for  the 
space  of  four  hundred  and  seventy 
vears,  are  in  this  degree  brought  to 
tight ;  a  knowledge  of  which,  is  abso- 
lately  necessary  to  render  the  Masonic 
character  complete. . 

This  lecture  is  divided  Into  two  sec^ 
tions,  which  every  koyalArch  Mason 
'  should  perfectly  undersUnd,  before  he 
is  qualined  to  fill  the  various  stations  to 
which  he  may  be  called,  and  to  per- 
form such  services  as  may  be  required 
by  the  chapter. 

The  following  passage  of  scripture 
is  read  or  repeated  at  opening  a  royal 
arch  chapter : 

2  THESSALONIANS  III,  6 — 17. 

"  Now  we  command  you,  brethren, 
in  the  name  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
that  ye  withdraw  yourselves  from  eve- 
ry brother  that  walketh  disorderly,  and 
not  after  the  tradition  which  he  re- 
ceived of  us.  For  yourselves  kiww  how 
ye  ought  to  follow  us,  for  we  behaved 
not  ourselves  disorderly  among  you. 
Neither  did  we  eat  any  man's  bread 
for  nought,  but  wrought  with  labour 
and  travail  night  and  day,  that  w<*  might 
9ot  be  charg^ble  to  any  of  yotu  Not 
because  we  have  not  power,  but  to 
make  ourselves  as  ensample  wnto  you 
to  follow  us.  For  even  where  ire  were 
with  you,  this  we  commanded  you,  that 
if  any  would  not  work,  neither  should 
he  eat:  For  we  hear  that  there  are 
some  which  walk  among  you  disorder- 
ly, working  not  at  all,  but  an;  busy- 
bodies,  mw  them  that  are  su  ch,  we 
command  and  axhorti  by  ouc   Lord 


'9 


Jetus  Cluta,  that  wilk^^dktMM  ihmf 
woric,aodeat  thaurawa  bread.  Bat 
ye,  brethren,  be  not  w«ary  In  well  (fo- 
ing.  And  if  any  oMa  obey  aoc  oht 
word,  by  this  epostle,  note  that  nisui, 
and  have  do  company  with  him,  tiiat 
he  may  be  ashamed.  Yet  count  hiaa 
not  as  an  enemy,  but  admonish  him  ai 
a  brother.  Now  the  Lord  of  peact 
himself  give  you  peace  alwaya  by  afl 
means.  The  Lord  be  with  you  fIL 
The  salutation  of  Paul,  with  mine  own 
hand,  which  is  the  Hskea  in  every  e^ 
tlej  sol  write.*'    . 

THE  PiaST  SVCTIOH 

Presents  an  extensive  field  for  < 
templation  and  study ;  and  furmshea 
many  highly  interesting  particulars  re- 
lative to  the  state  of  Masonry,  during 
king  Solomon's  reign,  and  subsequent 
to  that  period.  It  expkins  the  mode 
of  govemment,*de«ignates  the  apoell*- 
tion,  number,  and  situation  of  tne  se- 
veral officers,  and  poinds  out  the  pur- 
pose and  duty  of  their  respective  sta- 
tions. It  also  designates  the  various 
colaurs  of  their  banners,  and  explains 
the  morals  to  which  they  allude. 

THE  SECOND  SECTION 

Contains  a  futid  of  interesting  and 
valuable  historical  information,  and 
demonstrates,  in  a  striking  manner, 
that  virtue  and  happiness  are  the  nki- 
mate  conseqoentes  of  vhlue  and  jus- 
tice; whilst  the  practices  of  vke  and 
immortality,  are  invariably  followed 
by  disgrace  and  ruin. 

The  following  passages  of  scripture, 
prayer,  charge,  &c.,  which  are  mtra- 
doced  during  the  cereflMmy  of  exalts* 
tion,  should  be  property  arranged,  and 
it  is  essentially  necessary  that  theit 
application  should  be  familiar  to  a& 
royal  arch  Masons. 

nAiAM  x&y  16. 

<<  I  will  bri^g  the  blind  by  a  way 
that  they  knew  not ;  I  will  lead  them 
in  paths  that  they  have  not  known ;  I 
will  make  the  darkness  light  before 
them,  and  crooked  things  straight: 
These  things  will  I  do  unto  then,  aad 
wiU  not  forsake  them^l 

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465 


.    nuTsa 

AI/TAtlOir   TO    tHB    DttRBS    OF   moVAft 
ABOR  MAtOV. 

**  Supreme  Architect  of  Universal 
Nature,  who,  by  thine  Almighty  Word, 
didst  speak  into  being  the  stupendous 
Arch  of  Heaven,  and,  for  the  instruc- 
tion and  pleasure  of  thy  rational  crea- 
tures, didst  adorn  ua  with  greater  and 
lesser  lighu )  thereby  maenifyiug  thy 
power,  and  endearing  thy  goc^ness 

30  the  sons  of  men;  we  Kumbly 
we  and  worship  thine  unspeakable 
firfection.     We  bless  thee  that  when 
man  had  fallen  from  his  innocence,  and 
Ins  happines;,  thou  didst  still  leave 
onto  him  the  powers  of  reasoning,  and 
capacity  of  improvement  and  of  plea- 
sure.    We  thank  thee  that  amidst  the 
pains  and  calamities  of  our  present 
state,  so  many  means  of  refreshment 
aid  satis&ction  are  reserved  unto  us, 
while  travelling  the  mgg^d  wH^  of 
lift*  Especially  would  we  at  tnis  time 
render   thee    our  thanksgiving   and 
praise  for  the  institutipn,  as  members 
of  which  we  are  at  this  time  asaeao- 
Med,  and  for  all ,  the  pleasure  we  have 
derived '  from  it.     We  thank  thee  that 
the  few  here  assembled  before  thee, 
have  been  favoured  with  new  induce- 
ments, and  laid  under  new  and  stronger 
obligations,   to  virtue  and  holiness. 
May  these  obligations,  O  blessed  Fa- 
ther, have  their  full  effect  upon  us. 
Teach  us,  we  pray  thee,  the  true  reve- 
rence of  thy  great,  mighty,  and  terrible 
name.    Inspire  us  with  a  firm  and  un- 
shaken resolution  in  our  virtuous  pur- 
tttlts.     Give  us  grace  diligently  to 
search  thy  word  in  the  Book  of  Nature, 
wherein  the  duties  of  our  high  vocation 
ure  inculcated  Mih  divine  authority. 
May  the  solemnity  of  the  ceremonies 
of  our  institution  be  duly  impressed  an 
our  minds,  and  have  a  lasting  and  hap- 
py  effect  upon  our  lives.    O  thob  who 
uidst  aforetime  appear  onto  thy  servant 
Moses  in  a  fame  f/ firt  o^t  of  the 
midst  of  a  lnt»h,  enkindle,  we  beseech 
<bee,  in  each  of  our  hearts,  a  flame  of 
wodwo  to  thee,  of  love  to  each  other, 


and  ^  charhy  to  all  mankfnd.  Nay 
all  thy  wmraein  and  mighty  »ork$M 
us  with  the  divad,  apd  thy  goodness 
impress  ns  with  the  fove  of  thy  holy 
name.  May  hoUnem  to  the  Lord  be 
engraven  on  all  our  thoughts,  words, 
a«d  actions.  May  the  incense  of  piety 
ascend  continuaHy  unto  thee  from  the 
dhar  of  our  hcerts,  and  bom,  day  and 
night,  as  ancrifioeof  aswvetsmeilhit 
savour,' well  pleasiag  wMo  thee*  And 
stnee  sin  has  destroyed  within  tis  the 
Jhrwttempleof  pariQr  and  innocence, 
may  thy  heaiveply  grace  guide  and  as- 
sist ns  iareMldiflg  a  9eemd  temple  of 
refonnatioo,  and  may  the  glory  of  this 
latter  boose  be  freater  than  the  dory 
oftheforowr.  Amem^*   SoHMteitbei 

Kxobus  ill,  1«-^. 

^  Now  Moses  kept  the  flock  of  Mhro 
bis  (atber-in-lew,  the  priest  of  Midian : 
and  be  led  the  flock  to  the  back  side 
of  the  desert,  and  came  lo.the  momk* 
taiAofGodyeeefiteHorsb^  Aadthe 
ai^el^of  the  Lou  appeared  unto  htm 
in  a  flame  of  fire,  oat  of  the  midst  of 
a  bash:  aad  he  kmked,  and,  bebcM^ 
the  bash  bamed  with  fir^  aad  the 
bash  tsot  not  consumed.  And  Moses 
sakl,  I  will  new  turn  aside  and  see  this 
great  sight,  why  the  bush  is  not  burnt* 
And  when  the  Lord  saw  that  he 
tamed  aside  to  see,  God  called  onto 
him  oaiof  the  midst  of  the  bash,  aad 
said,  Mosesy  Moses!  And  he  said, 
Hers  am  L  Aad  he  said,  draw  not 
nigh  bkher:  patoff  thy  shoes  firom  off 
thy  feet ;  lor  the  place  wbereoa  thoa 
standest  is  holy  groaad.  Moreoves 
he  said,  I  ssa  the  Gad  of  thy  fother^ 
the  God  of  Abraham,  the  God  of  Isaac, 
and  the  God  of  Jacob.  And  Meses 
hid  his  face;  for  he  was  afraid  to  look 
1^00  God.^ 

2  C0BONICLSS  zxxvi,  11 — 20. 
^Zedekiah  toot  one  and  twenty 
years  old  whea  he  began  to  reign; 
and  reiped  eleven  years  in  Jerusa- 
lem* And  he  did  that  which  vhu 
evil  in  the  sig^t  of  the  Loan  his  God, 
tmd  humbled  not  himself  before  Jere- 
miah the  prophet,  spaoistf  from  the 

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4^6 


MASOMe. 


mouth  of  tyLoE0.  AndiMel^re* 
MM  against  ktaf  Nebochadimsar) 
who  bad  made  bim  swear  by  Ood: 
bat  he^tifienedbis  mxk,  and  harden* 
ad  his  bealt,  Iraai  tuiDifif  uotQ  thr 
Lota  God  of  IsraeL  Moreaiwr,  aU 
the  chief  of  the  firiests  and  the  people 
trtnsgressed  very  miich,  after  aU  the 
abomtoatiofls  of  the  healbaii>  and  pal* 
luted  the  haase  of  the  Loa»,  wbidi  he 
had  hallonned  in  Jeruaaleau  And  the 
LoRi^Ood  of  their  fathers  sent  te>  hiin^ 
by  bis  messengers,  ristng  np  betiiaesy 
and  seodiii^;  becanse  he  bad  eompas* 
lion  on  his  people^  and  os  bis  dwell* 
ing*phce:  6«ctbey  moakadiiM6flies* 
aengern  of  God,  and  despised  bis 
wordsyand  misitatd  his  pivpbets^nn*- 
til  the  wrath  of  the  Lord  arose  against 
his  people^  till  there  was  no  remedy. 
Tberefonebe  broagbf  upon  themthto 
king  of  the  Cbatdees^  who  slew  their 
Toong  nen  with  the  sWord  in  the 
boase  of  f hef r  sancHiayy^  and  faa4  ir& 
eoanpassion  npon  yt>«ng  hmm  or  dmI- 
flew.  old  maa^  or  him  dluir  stooped  fbr 
age;  he  gave  them  alt  into  Ms  hamd. 
A^  all  tHe  vessels  of  tla  hanse  of 
€tod,  great  an4  small^  and  the  tre^ 
soMs  of  tKe  hadse-  o#  fh«  Loan^  and 
fkt^  treaaon^s  of  the  khig,  and  of  Ms 
Mnets^  M  ilmae  bfe  brought  to  %hf^ 
byloo.  And  rtiey  bmtit  tbe  house  of 
€od,  andbraibedowfrthe  wallof  ieMh 
ialeiii>  and  bnrnt  all  the  palaees  ther«^ 
df  with)  firs,  and  destroyed  all  the 
»MK%  vessefo  thrmoft  And  Ibem 
ttiat  had  escaped  fbsmt  the  swovd  caiu 
tied  be  a#ay  lo-  Babylon,*  wbere^lhi^ 
were  servants  to  bin)  and  his  sons, 
until  the  feign  •# ihekingdom  -of  Pei^ 
9ki' 


EZRA 


1— 3*. 


^  Vow,  in  the  first  year  «f •  Oyr^s 
\Cmg  jol  Peraia^  (that  ihe  word  of  the 
Lord  by  the  mouth  of  Jeremiah  might 
be  fliffilled,3  the  LoRl>  stfrred  up  tlie 
sphit  9f  Cyrus  king  of  Persia,  that  he 
made  a  procia^nation  throughout  all 
his  kingdom,  and  put  it  also  in  writing, 
toyipg,  thus  saith  Cyras  king  of  Pfer- 
fi,  The  Lord  Giod'  of  heaven  hath 


given  me  all  tbelihiglioiBs  of  the  earA ; 
aid  he  balb  charged  roe  to  fanttd  faiaai 
an  bouse  at  JerSsaJam,  wbkb  tr  in 
Judah:  Who  U  there  amai^  ym  of 
all  hi9 people?  his  God  be  with  him, 
and  let  bim  go  up  to  Jerusalem,  whid^ 
ii  in  Judah^  and  biul3  the  house  of  the' 
Lord  God  of  Israel  fhe  t«  the  God]' 
which  i$  in  Jerusalem.^ 

sxoDtm  iff,  19, 14; 

"  And  Moses  said  unto  God.*  Be-. 
hold,  irAen  I  come  unto  the  d^dren^ 
of  IsraeL  and  shair  say .  unto  tiuopjL 
The  God  of  your  fathers  hath  sen^M* 
utato  you ;  and  they  shall  say  to  me^ 
What  is  his  name  r  what  shall  I  say, 
unto  them?  And  God  said  unto  Mo- 
ses, I  AM  THAT  1  AM  .-.and  he 
said,  Thus  shalt  thou  suy  unto  the 
children  of  Israelii  A  M^atji  ^nt  me 
unto  yxHi.^ 

rsAiiM  asH. 

^^  Lord,  T  cry  unto  thee:  makehast^ 
unto  me;  give  ^ar  unto  my  voice, 
when  I  cry  unto  tbeel  Let  my  prayer 
be  set  forth  before  thee  (u  incense,  and 
the  lifting  up  of  my  hands  as  the  even^ 
ing  sacrifice.  Set  a  watch,  O  LoRDb 
before  my  mouth ;  keep  the  door  oC 
my  Kps.  Incline  not  my  heart  to  oi^ 
evil  tnin|[,  to  practise  wicked  works 
whh  meh  that  work  iniquity;  and  let 
me.  not  eat  of  their  daintiesl  Let  tha 
righteous  smite  me,  it  shall ^e  a  kb^, 
ness ;  and  let  him  reprove  me.  it  shaB 
be  an  excellent  oil  wftich  shall  nol 
break  my  head ;  for  yet  my  prayer  al- 
so shall  be  In  their  calamities.  When 
their  judges  are  overthrown  in  stony 
places,  they  shall  hear  my  woads- 9  foe  ' 
they  are  sweet.  Our  bones  are  scat- 
tered  at  the  grave's  inouth,  as  when 
one  cutteth  and  cleaveth  u>ood  upoa 
the  earth.  But  mine  eves  ore  unto 
thee,  O  God  the  Lord  :  in  thee  is  my 
trust  >  leave  not  my  soul  destitute^ 
Keep  mefh>m'  the  snare.  trAidI  they 
have  l^d  for  me,  and' the  gins  of  the 
workers  of  iniquity.  Let  the  wicked 
fkir  into  their  own  netaji  whilst  that  I 
withal  esei^,'^ 

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HASOHie. 


457 


rsALM  cxGL 


^  I  cried  unto  the  Loed  with  my 
voice ;  with  my  voice  unto  the  Lokd 
did  r  make  my  supplication.  I  poured 
out  my  complaint  before  him  ;  1  shew- 
ed before  him  ray  trouble.  When  my 
spirit  was  overwhelmed  within  me, 
then  thou  knewest  my  path.  In  the 
way  wherein  I  walked  have  they  privi- 
Jyl»d  a  snare  for  me.  I  looked  on 
my  right  hand,  and  beheld,  but  there 
was  no  man  that  would  know  me :  re- 

Se  failed  me ;  no  man  cared  for  ray 
I.  I  cried  unto  thee,  O  Loan :  1 
^d,  Thou  art  my  refuge  and  my  por- 
llolta  In  the  land  of  the  living.  Attend 
unto  my  cry ;  for  1  am  brought  very 
low :  deliver  me  from  my  persecutors ; 
for  they  are  stronger  than  I.  Bring 
my  <soui  out  of  prison,  that  1  may 
praise  thy  name :  the  righteous  shall 
compass  me  about ;  for  thou  shalt  deal 
bountifully  with  me.'' 

PSALM  cxliii. 

*'  Hear  my  prayer,  O  Lord,  give 
ear  to  my  supplications  :  in  thy  faith- 
fulness answer  me,  and  in  thy  righte- 
ousness. And  enter  not  into  judg- 
ment with  thy  servant :  for  in  thy  sight 
shalt  no  man  living  be  justified.  For 
the  enemy  hath  persecuted  my  soul ; 
he  hath  smitten  my  life  down  to  the 
ground  ;  he  hath  made  me  to  dwell  in 
darkness,  as  those  that  have  been  long 
dead.  Therefore  is  my  spirit  over- 
wheUned  within  me  ;  my  heart  within 
me  is  desolate.  1  repoember  the  days 
of  old,  I  meditate  on  all  thy  works ; 
I  muse  on  the  work  of  thy  hands.  I 
stretch  forth  my  hands  unto  thee :  my 
soul  /^s^e^A  after  thee,  as  a  thirsty 
knd.  Selah.  Hear  me  speedily,  O 
Loan :  my  spirit  foireth  t  hide  not  thy 
kite  from  me,  lest  I  be  like  unto  them 
that  go  down  into  the  pit.  Cause  me 
to  hear  thy  loving-kindness  in'  the 
morning :  for  in  thee  do  I  trust :  cause 
me  to  know  the  way  wherein  I  should 
walk  (  for  I  Hft  up  my  soul  unto  thee. 
Deliver  me^  O  Lorp,  from  mine  ene- 


mies: I  flee  unto  thee,  to  hide  me. 
Teach  me  to  do  thy  will ;  for  thou  art 
my  God  :  thy  spirit  is  good  $  lead  me 
into  the  land  6(  uprijghtness.  Quicken 
me,  O  LoRO,  for  thy  name's  sake :  for 
thy  righteousness'  sake  bring  my  soul 
out  of  trouble.  And  of  thy  mercy  cut 
off  mine  enemies,  and  destroy  all  them 
that  afflict  my  soul :  for  I  am  thy 
jervant." 

EXODUS  iv,  1 — 9. 

'^  And  Moses  answered  and  said, 
But  behold,  they  will  not  believe  me, 
nor  hearken  unto  my  voice :   for  they 
will  say,  The  Lord  hath  net  appeared 
unto  thee.    And  the  Lord  said  unto 
him,  What  ts  that  in  thine  hand  ?  And 
he  said,  A  rod.    And  he  said,  Cast  it 
on  the  ground.    And  he  cast  it  on  the 
ground,  and  it  became  a  serpent :  and 
Moses  fled  from  before  it.    And  the 
Lord  said  unto  Moses,  Put  forth  tbme 
hand,  and  take  it  by  the  t^l.    And  be 
put  forth  his  hand,  and  caught  tf,  antt 
it  became  a  rod  in  his  hand:  Th«t 
they  may  believe  that  the  Lord  Gc» 
of  their  father^,  the  God  of  Abraham, 
the  God  of  Isaac,  and  the  God  of 
Jacob,  hath  appeared  unto  thee.    And 
the  Lord  said  furthemore  imto  htm, 
Put  now  thine  hand  into  thy  bosom. 
And  he  put  his  hand  inta  his  bosom ; 
and  when  he  took  it  out,  behold,  his 
hand  was  leprous  as  snow.    And  he 
said.  Put  thine  hand  into  thy  bosom 
again.      And  he  put  his  hand  into  his 
bosom  again,  and  plucked  it  ovt  of  his 
bosom ;   and,  behold,  it  was  twned 
again  as  his  other  flesh.    And  it  shall 
come  to  pass,  if  they  will  not  believe 
thee,  neither  hearken  to  the  voice  of 
the  first  sign,  that  they  will  believe  the 
voice  of  the  latter  sign.     And  it  shall 
come  to  pass,  if  they  will  not  believe 
also  these  two  signs,  neither  hearken 
unto  thy  voice,  that  thou  shalt  cake  of 
the  water  of  the  river,  and  pour  ii 
upon  the  dry  land:  and  the  water, 
which  thou  takest  out  of  the  river, 
shall  become   blood   upon  the   dry 
land.'' 


Kkk 


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MASONIC. 


BAOGAI  ii,  1—9,  23. 

<<  In  the  seventh  months  in  the  one 
and  twentieth  daw  of  the  month,  came 
the  word  of  the  Lord  by  the  prophet 
Haggai,  saying,  Speak  now  to  Zerub- 
babel  the  son  of  Shealtiel,  governor  of 
Judah,  and  to  Joshua  the  son  of  Jose- 
dech  the  high  priest,  and  to  the  residue 
of  the  people,  sayinc,  Who  is  left 
among  you  that  saw  this  hoUse  in  her 
first  glory?  and  how  do  ye  see  it  now? 
iff  it  not  in  yoor  eyes  in  comparison  of 
it  as  nothing  ?  Yet  now  be  strong,  O 
Zerobbabel,  sai(h  the  Lord  ;  and  be 
firong,  O  Joshua,  son  of  Josedech  the 
high  priest ;  and  be  strong,  all  ye 
people  of  the  land,  saith  the  Loan, 
and  work  :  for  I  ««  with  you,  saith 
the  Lord  of  hoste.  According  to  the 
word  that  I  covenanted  with  you  when 
ye  came  out  of  Egypt,  so  my  spirit  re- 
mfluneth  among  you:  fear  ye  not.  F6r 
thus  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts ;  Yet  once, 
it  it  a  little  while,  and  I  will  shake  the 
heavens,  and  the  earth,  and  the  sea, 
asd  the  dry  land;  And  I  will  shake 
all  nations,  and  the  Desire  of  all  nar 
tions  shall  come :  and  I  will  fill  this 
iKHise  with  glory,  saith  the  Lord  of 
hastt.  The  silver  is  mine,  and  the 
cold  iff  mine,  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts. 
The  glory  of  this  latter  house  shall  be 
greater  than  of  the  former,  saith  the 
Lord  of  hosts ;  and  in  this  place  will 
J  give  peace,  saith  the  LQm>«f  hostt. 

<<  lu  that  day,  saith  the  Lord  of 
hosts,  will  I  take  thee,  O  Zenibbabei, 
my  servant,  the  son  of  Shealii^y  Mith 
theLoRi>,  and  will  make  thee  as  a 
ngnet :  lor  I  have  chosen  theey  saith 
the  LoBD  of  hosts. 

ZECHARIAH  iv,  6 — 10. 

^  Then  he  answered  and  spake  unto 
me,  saying,  This  iff  the  word  of  the 
LoWi  unto  Zerubbabel,  saying,  Not  b^ 
might,  nor  by  power,  but  by  my  Spi- 
rit, saith  the  Lord  of  hosts.  Who  art 
thou,  O  great  mountain  ?  before  Ze- 
rubbabel thou  ahalt  become  a  plain  : 
and  he  shall  bring  forth  the  head-stone 
thereof  with  shoutings,  crying^  Grace, 
graoe^unto  it    Mcwfover,  the  word 


of  the  Lord  came  unto  me,  sayiof^ 
The  hands  of  Zerubbabel  have  laid  the 
foundation  of  this  house,  his  hands 
shall  also  finish  it:  and  thou  shah 
know  that  the  Lord  of  hosts  hath  seat 
me  unto  you.  For  who  hath  despised 
the  day  of  small  things?  for  they  shall 
rejoice,  and  shall  see  the  plummet  m 
the  hand  of  Zerubbabel  with  those 
seven:  they  ore  the  eyes  of  the  Loaa, 
which  run  to  and  fro  through  the 
whole  earth." 

JOHN  i,  1 — 5. 
"  In  the  beginning  was  the  Wo 
and  the  Word  was  with  God,  and  1 
Word  was  God.  The  same  was  m 
the  beginning  with  God.  All  things 
were  made  by  him ;  and  without  him 
was  not  any  thing  made  that  waa 
made.  In  him  was  life;  and  the  life 
was  the  light  of  men.  And  the  light 
shineth  in  darkn^;  and  the  dark- 
ness comprehendeth  it  not. 

DEUTERONOBfT  XXxi,  24 — ^26. 

<<  And  it  came  to  pass,  when  Mo- 
ses had  made  an  end  of  writing  the 
words  of  this  law  in  a  book  until  they 
were  finished.  That  Moses  conunandU 
ed  the  Levites,  which  bare  the  ark  of 
of  the  covenant  of  the  Lord,  saying, 
Tdke  this  book  of  the  law,  and  put  it 
in  the  side  of  the  ark  of  the  covenant 
of  the  Lord  your  God,  that  it  may  be 
there  for  a  witness  against  thee.'' 

BXODVS  XXV,  21. 

<<And  thou  shalt  put  the  mercy* 
seat  above  upon  the  ark;  and  in  the 
ark  thou  shalt  put  the  testimony  that 
I  shall  give  thee." 

sxoDUS  xvi,  32 — 34* 
.  <<  And  Moses  said,  This  iff  the  thii^ 
which  the  Lord  commandeCh,  Fill  aa 
omer  of  it,  to  be  kept  for  your  gene- 
rations; that  they  may  see  the  bread 
wherewith  I  have  fed  you  in  the  a^ 
derness,  when  I  brought  you  f(Hth 
from  the  land  of  Egypt.  Aud  Moses  ^ 
said  unto  Aaron,  Take  a  pot,  and  oat 
an  omer  full  of  manna  therein,  and  lay 
it  up  before  the  Lord,  to  be  kept  iat- 
your  generations.    As  the  Lord  < 

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MASONIC^ 


459 


Ih^nded  Moses,  so  Aaron  laid  it  up 
before  the  Testimony^  to  be  kept." 

NUMBERS   Zviiy  10. 

*^  And  the  Lord  said  imto  Moset, 
Bring  Aaroa's  rod  again  before  tb^ 
testimony^  to  be  kept  for  a  token 
against  the  rebels;  and  thou  shalt 
quite  take  away  their  murmurings 
from  me,  that  they  die  not." 

HEBREWS  ix,  2 — 5. 
^  For  there  was  a  tabernacle  made; 
the  first,  wherein  was  the  candlestick, 
nd  the  table,  and  the  shew-bread; 
which  is  called  The  Sanctuary.  And 
after  the  second  veil  the  tabernacle, 
which  is  called  The  Holiest  of  all ; 
Which  had  the  golden  censer,  and  the 
ark  of  the  covenant  overlaid  round 
about  with  gold,  wherein  wu  the 
golden  pot  that  had  manna,  and  Aa- 
ron's rod  that  budded,  and  the  tables 
of  the  covenant ;  And  over  it  the  che> 
rubims  of  glory  shadowing  the  mercy- 
seat  ;  of  which  we  cannot  now  speak 
particularly." 

AMOS  ix,  11. 

^  In  that  day  will  I  raise  up  the  ta- 
bernacle of  David  that  is  fallen,  and 
close  up  the  breaches  thereof;  and  I 
will  raise  up  his  ruins,  and  I  will  build 
it  as  in  the  days  of  old." 

BXODUS  vi,  2,  8* 
<<  And  God  spake  unto  Moses,  and 
said  unto  him,  I  am  the  L«bo  :  And  I 
appeared  unto  Abraham,  unto  Isaac, 
and  unto  Jacob,  by  the  name  of  God 
Almighty;  but  by  my  name  JEHO- 
VAH was  I  not  known  to  them." 

KING  SOLOMON'S  TEMPLE. 

The  following  particulars  relative  to 
king  Solomon's  Temple,  may  with 
propriety  be  here  mtroduced,  and  can- 
not ful  to  be  interesting  to  all  classes  of 
reader^  and  particularly  so  to  royal 
arch  Masons. 

^  This  famous  fabric  was  situated 
on  Mount  Moriah,  near  the  place 
where  Abraham  was  about  to  oror  up 
hk  SOD  baac^  and  where  David  n»et 


and  appeased  the  destroying  Angel.  It 
was  begun  in  the  fourth  year  of  the 
reign  of  Solomon ;  the  third  aAer  the 
death  of  David;  four  hundred  and 
eighty  years  after  the  passage  of  the 
Red  Sea,  and  on  the  second  day  of  the 
month  Zif,  being  the  second  month 
of  the  sacred  year,  which  answers  to 
the  21st  of  April,  in  the  year  of  the 
world  2992,  and  was  carried  on  with 
such  prodigious  speed,  that  it  was 
finished,  in  all  its  parts,  in  little  mora 
than  seven  years. 

'*  By  the  masonic  art,  and  the  wise 
regulations  of  Solomon,  every  part  of 
the  building,  whether  of  stone,  brick, 
timber,  or  metal,  was  wrought  and  pre« 
pared  before  they  were  brought  to  Je- 
rusalem ;  so  that  the  only  tools  made 
use  of  in  erecting  the  fabric  were 
wooden  instruments  prepared  for  that 
purpose.  The  noise  of  the  ax,  the 
hammer,  and  every  other  tool  of  me^ 
tal,  was  confined  to  the  forests  of  Le- 
banon, where  the  timber  was  procu- 
red,  and  to  Mount  Libanus,  and  the 
phuns  and  quarries  of  Zeredathah^ 
where  the  stones  were  raised,  squared^ 
marked  and  numbered;  that  nothing 
might  be  heard  among  the  masons  at 
Jerusalem,  but  harmony  and  peace. 

**  In  the  year  of  the  woild  S029, 
King  Solomon  died,  and  was  succeed- 
ed by  his  sen  Rehoboam.'' 

Shortly  after  this,  with  Jeroboam, 
the  son  of  Nebat  at  theur  head,  ten  of 
the  tribes  revohed,  and  established  a 
separate  kingdom.  Thus  divided,  the 
tribes  of  Israel  continued  under  two 
distinct  governments,  two  hundred  and 
fifty-four  years ;  when  the  ten  revoh- 
ed tribes  became  weak  and  degenera- 
ted, and  their  country  was  laid  waste, 
their  government  overthrown,  and  ex- 
tirpated by  Salmanezer,  the  Assyrian 
king.  After  a  series  of  changes,  Je- 
rusdem  was  besieged  byNebuchad- 
nezxar,  king  of  Babylon,  and  after  a 
defimce  of  a  year  and  a  half,  it  was 
surrendered,  and  delivered  te  the  offi- 
cers of  Nebuchadnezzar,  in  the  ele- 
venth year  of  the  reign  of  Zedekiah^ 
king  of  Judah.  The  temple  was  sack- 
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460 


uAMome. 


ed  aod  destroyed,  all  the  holy  vesielS)  | 
together  with  the  two  famous  brazea 
pillars,  were  taken  away,  anl  the  rem- 
nant of  the  people  who  escaped  the 
sword^  were  carried  away  captives  to 
Babylon  ;  where  they  remained  ser- 
vants to  Nebuchadnezzar,  and  his 
successors,  till  the  reign  of  Cyrus,  king 
•f  Persia,  who,  in  the  first  year  of  his 
reign,  being  influenced  and  directed  by 
the  same  divine  power  by  which  he 
was  invisibly  led  to  the  throne  of  Per- 
sia, issued  an  edict  for  the  liberation 
of  the  captive  Jews,  with  permission 
to  return  to  Jerusalem,  and  rebuild  the 
city,  and  house  of  the  Lord.  The 
principal  people  of  the  tribes  of  Judah 
and  Benjamin,  with  the  Priests  and 
Levites,  immediately  departed,  and 
commenced  the  glorious  work  ;  many 
of  the  Jews,  however,  rather  than  re- 
^  linquish  the  possessions  they  had  ob- 
tained in  Babylon^  determined  to  re- 
main there. 

CHARGE 

TO  ▲  irSWtT  SXALTBO  COMFAITIOlf. 

"  Worthy  Companion, 

a  By  the  consent  and  assistance  of 
the  members  of  this  chapter,  you  are 
now  exalted  to  the  sublime  and  hon- 
ourable degree  of  a  royal  arch  Mason. 

<<  Having  attained  this  degree,  you 
have  arrived  at  the  summit  and  per- 
fection of  ancient  masonry ;  and  are 
consequently  entitled  to  a  full  expla- 
nation of  the  mysteries  of  the  order. 

«  The  rites  and  mysteries  developed 
in  this  degree  have  been  handed  down 
through  a  chosen  few,  unchanged  by 
time,  and  uncontrolled  by  prejudice ; 
and  we  expect  and  (rust,  they  will  be 
regarded  by  you  with  the  same  vene- 
ration, and  transmitted  with  the  same 
scrupulous  purity  to  your  successors. 

'^  No  one  can  reflect  on  the  ceremo- 
4ues  of  gaining  admission  into  this 
place,  without  being  forcibly  struck 
with  the  important  lessons  which  they 
teach. 

«  Here  we  are  necessarily  led  to 
coolcmplate  with  gratitude  Mid  adnii- 


ation  Che  sacred  source  from  wfaeiiff 
all  earthly  comforts  flow ;  here  we  find 
additional  inducements  to  continue 
steadfast  and  immoveable  in  the  dis- 
charge of  our  respective  duties  ;  and 
h«re  we  are  bound,  by  the  most  solemn 
ties,  to  promote  each  other's  welfare^ 
and  correct  each  other's  failings^  by 
advice,  admonition,  and  reproof. 

<<  As  it  is  our  most  earnest  desirei 
and  a  duty  we  owe  to  enr  companions 
of  this  order,  that  the  admission  of 
every  candidate  into  this  chapter  shall 
be  attended  by  the  approbation  of  the 
most  scrutinizing  eye,  we  hope  always 
to  possess  the  satisfaction  of  Ending 
none  amongst  us,  but  such  as  will  pro- 
mote to  the  utmost  of  their  power  the 
great  end  of  our  institution.  By  pay* 
ing  due  attention  to  this  determination, 
we  expect  you  will  never  recom- 
mend any  candidate  to  this  chapter, 
whose  abilities,  and  knowledge  of 
the  foregoing  degrees,  you  cannot  free-* 
ly  vouch  for,  and  whom  you  do  not 
firmly  and  confidently  believe,  will 
fully  conform  to  the  principles  of  our 
order,  and  fulfil  the  obligations  of  a 
royal  arch  Mason.  While  such  are 
our  members,  we  may  expect  to  be 
united  in  one  object,  without  luke- 
warmness,  inattention,  or  neglect;  but 
zeal,  fidelity,  and  aflection,  will  be  the 
distinguishing  characteristics  of  our 
society,  and  that  satisfaction,  harmo* 
ny,  and  peace,  may  be  enjoyed  at  our 
meetings,  which  no  other  society  can 
aflbrd.^ 

CLOSING. 

The  chapter  is  closed  with  solemn 
ceremonies ;  and  the  following  prayer 
is  rehearsed  by  the  most  ezcelknt  high 
priest: 

<<  By  the  Wudom  of  the  Suprene 
High  Priest  Hiay  we  be  directed,  by. 
his  Strength  may  we  be  enabled,  and 
by  the  ^auty  of  virtue  may  we  be 
incited,  to  perform  the  obKgMions  here 
enjoined  on  us ;  to  keep  inviolably  the 
mysteries  heie  unfolded  to  us ;  aad 
iimmUjrto  praotiae all thoae Aitiai 

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461 


\liilof  tbe  chapter,  wkkb  are  tnculca- 
led  m  it. 

BespOQse.    So  mote  it  be.    Amen. 

ROYAL  ARCH  SONG. 

When  orient  Wiidom  beamM  serene, 

And  pillarM  Strength  arose ; 

When  Beauty  tingM  the  glowing  scene, 

And  Faith  her  mansion  chose ; 

Exulting  bands  the  fabric  view\], 

Mysterious  powers  adorM ; 

And  high  the  Triple  Union  stood, 

That  gave  the  Jlfyitic  Word. 

Pale  Envy  wither^  at  the  sight, 
And,  frowning  o*er  the  pile, 
CallM  Murder  np  from  realms  of  night, 
To  blast  the  glorious  toil. — 
With  ruffian  Outrage  join'd,  in  wo 
TTiey  formM  the  league  abhorr'd ; 
And  wounded  Science  felt  the  blow, 
That  crush^  the  MytHc  tVord. 

Concealment  from  sequester^  oave^ 

On  aable  pinioos  flew  ; 

And  o^r  the  sacrilegious  grave 

Her  reil  impervious  threw. 

The  associate  band,  in  solemn  state. 

The  awful  loss  deplorM ; 

And  Wisdom  raoumM  the  ruthless  fate. 

That  whehnM  the  Mystic  Word. 

At  leng^,  through  timers  expanded 

sphere, 
Fair  Science  speeds  her  way ; 
And  warmM  by  TruUt^s  refulgenoe,clear 
Reflects  the  kindred  ray ; 
A  second  hhikH  towering  height 
Proclaims  the  sign  resterM ; 
From  whose  foundation,  brought  to  light, 
Is  drawn  the  MyiHc  Word. 

To  depths  obscure,  the  favoured  Trine 

A  dreary  course  engage ; 

Till,  through  the  Arch^  the  ray  divine 

niumes  the  sacred page.~^ 

From  the  wide  wonders  of  thia  blaxei 

Oar  ancient  sign^xeitor'd  ;— 


The  iloyel  wSfv4  alone  displays 
The  long^lost  Miotic  Word. 

BOTAL  ARCH  ODE. 

Almighty  Sire !  our  Heavenly  King, 
Before  whose  sacred  name  we  beifd. 
Accept  the  praises  which  we  sing, 
And  to  our  humble  prayers  attend  ! 
All  hail,  great  Architect  divine ! 
This  universal  frame  is  thine. 

Thou  who  didst  Persians  king  command 

A  proclamation  to  extend. 
That  Israelis  sons  might  quit  their  land, 

Their  holy  temple  to  attend. 

That  sacred  place,  wher^  Three  in  One 
Comprised  thy  comprehensive  name ; 

And  where  the  bright  meridian  sun 
Was  seen  thy  glory  to  proclaim. 

TTiy  watchful  eye,  a  length  of  time. 
Thy  wondrous  circle  did  attend  ; 

The  gloiy  and  the  power  be  thine. 
Which  shall  from  age  to  age  descend* 

On  thy  Omnipotence  we  rest, 
Secure  of  thy  protection  here ; 

And  hope  hereafter  to  be  blest. 
When  we  have  left  this  world  of  care« 

Grant  us,  great  God,  thy  powerful  aid. 
To  guide  us  through  this  vale  of  tears  i 

For  where  thy  goodness  is  displayed. 
Peace  soothes  the  mind,  and  pleasure 
cheers. 

Inspire  us  with  thy  grace  divine  ; 

Thy  sacred  hw  our  guide  shall  be ; 
To  every  good  our  hearts  incline. 

From  every  evil  keep  us  free. 

Froh  TBS  Ma  some  Miscellaitt. 

RIGHTS  OF  VISITERS. 

We  observe  in  a  late  number  of  the 

"  Amkbican  Masonic  Rkgisteb,''  a 

vaUiable  work  Dublished  in  New-York, 

tlie  following  Query. 

"  Can  or  ought  a  todge,  during  work- 

isc  hours,  on  pretence  of  <  not  having 

B  time,*  or  any  other  preteaoe,  refuse  to 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


462 


Miaomo. 


examine  ftod  wdaii  A  Tukinf  brother 
who  presents  himself  at  its  door,  ready, 
able,  and  willing  to  work  his  way  in.** 

As  we  presume  it  is  the  wish  of  the 
inquirer  to  bear  the  opinion  of  any 
brother  who  may  be  disposed  to  give 
one,  we  take  the  liberty  to  make  a  few 
comments  on  the  question,  which  we 
deem  highly  interesting  and  important 
to  the  fraternity. 

Among  the  rights  and  privileges 
conferred  upon  a  candidate  at  his  ini- 
tiation or  advancement,  none  perhaps 
is  more  important  than  that  of  being 
entitled  to  admission  within  the  walls 
of  any  lodge  working  under  proper  au- 
thority, in  the  degree  to  which  he  is  ad- 
vanced, wherever  he  may  go,  through- 
out the  world.  This  privilege  is  the 
key  to  almost  every  other.  It  is  in 
the  lodge  that  he  looks  for  Masonic 
information,  and  it  is  there  that  he  ex- 
pects to  meet  with  his  brethren,  and  to 
form  those  associations  which  may  be 
so  important  to  him,  in  the  transac- 
tion of  business,  or  in  the  promotion 
of  his  comfort,  in  a  land  of  strangers. 
This  privilege,  so  long  as  he  continues 
in  good  stsmding,  and  is  capable  of 
proving  his  title  to  it^  we  consider  as 
unalienable,  and  to  us  therefore  it  is 
perfectly  obvious,  that  no  lodge  can 
have  a  right,  wantonly  and  without 
sufficient  cause,  to  exclude  from  its 
meetings  any  brother  "  ready,  able, 
and  willing  to  work  his  way  in."  The 
resort  to  a  ^^pretence^^  as  an  apology 
for  refusing  to  admit,  would  only  ag- 
gravate the  wrong,  as  it  would  evince 
a  conviction  of  the  impropriety  of  at- 
tempting to  exclude  without  a  suffi- 
cient reason. 

The  question  however  recurs,  whe- 
ther circumstances  may  not  actually 
exist  sufficient  to  justify  a  lodge  in  re- 
fusing admission  to  a  visiting  brother 
in  good  standing.  To  every  general 
rule,  there  are  some  .exceptions ;  and 
it  may  be  contended,  although  every 
Mason  has  commonly  a  right  to  claim 
adniission  into  any  lodge  1^  may  wish 
to  visit,  that  peculiar  cases  may  exist 
where  the  exercise  of  this  right  cannot 


wkh  propriety  be  haisted  on.  Totlib 
suggestion  it  is  difficult  to  make  a  gene- 
ral reply.  Such  cases,  if  any  can  ex- 
ist, are  not  easily  to  be  imagined,  and 
must,  from  the  nature  of  things,  be  ex- 
tremely rare.  It  is  scarcely  possible 
to  conceive,  that  any  lodge  can  be  so 
hurried  with  business  as  to  be  unable 
to  permit  a  single  brother  to  retire,  i» 
order  to  examine  a  stranger  who  may 
wish  to  visit.  Should  a  visiter  how- 
ever apply  for  admission,  while  a  lodge 
was  in  the  midst  of  business  that  couhl 
not  with  propriety  be  interrupted,  or 
after  the  completion  of  its  business, 
just  as  it  was  about  to  be  closed,  he 
surelv  could  not  deem  it  a  hanMiip 
that  his  entrance  should  be  dehiyed  in 
the  one  case,  and  perhaps  entirely  re- 
fused in  the  other.  But  as  to  the  idea, 
which  we  have  heard  advanced  by 
some  brethren,  that  a  lodge  nuiy  have 
private  businesBy  during  the  transaction 
of  which  all  but  its  own  members  may 
be  excluded,  it  is  too  preposterous  to 
gain  many  advocates,  fto  lodge  can, 
consistently,  transact  any  business  m 
its  Masonic  character,  to  a  full  knowl- 
edge of  which  every  brother  who  has 
attained  the  degree  in  which  it  is  traot- 
acted,  is  not  absolutely  entitled. 

If  any  difference  of  opinion  exisH 
upon  this  subject,  we  shall  be  glad  la 
receive  the  ideas  of  any  of  our  breth- 
ren who  may  be  inclined  to  discuss  it. 

INSTALLATION  AT  BROOKLYN. 

On  Thursday,  the  19th  of  July  last, 
St.  Alban's  Lodge,  No.  60,  was  in- 
stalled in  the  village  of  Brooklyn,  in 
Queens  county,  by  the  officers  of  the 
Grand  Lodge  of  the  State  of  New- 
York.  The  ceremony  was  perform- 
ed at  Morrison's  Hotel,  on  Brooklyn 
Heights,  after  which,  a  very  large  and 
reipectaUe  Masonic  procession  was 
formed,  with  an  excellent  band  of  mu- 
sic, and  proceeded  to  St.  Ann's 
Church,  wnere,  besides  the  usual  ser- 
vices, a  most  elegmt  and  impressive 
disoNirse  was  delivered,  by  our  most 
worshipful  Brother,    the    revereDd 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


Ilennr  J.  PekuSy  Mrictaiit  Grand 
Chaplain  of  the  Grand  Lodge  •f  thb 
Sute,  from  1  Peter  ii,  17. 

^^  Ldwe  the  brotherhood.  Fear' God. 
Honour  the  Idng.^^ 

After  the  services  at  the  churchy  the 
procettum  was  agam  formed,  and 
moved  through  tl^  most  prominent 
streets  in  the  village*;  when  they  re- 
turned to  Morrison's  Hotel,  and  par- 
took of  refreshments,  which  were 
boimtifully  provided. 

The  following  brethren  have  been 
duly  elected  officers  for  the  present 
year: — 

Erastus  Worthington,  Worshipful 
^faster. 

George  W.  Rogers,  Senior  Warden. 

Ralph  Malbone,  Junior  Warden. 

George  S.  Wise,  Secretary. 

Alexander  Robertson,  Treasurer. 

Abiathar  Young,  Senior  Deacon. 

Robert  S.  Tatem,  Junior  Deacon, 

J.  N.  Smith,       1  «^^,„^  J. 

Joseph  WalJon  J  ^'^^*- 

W.  P.  M.  John  Titus,  >  Masters  of 

Amerroan,  \  Ceremonies 

W.P.M.  Isaac  Nichols,  Tyler. 

R^lar  communications  on  the 
second  and  fourth  Mondays  of  every 
month,  at  Hunter's  Hotel,  Fulton- 
silreeC* 

CoVPAjriOll   PflATT, 

At  the  annual  meeting  of  Columbian 
Encampment  of  Knights  Templars, 
No.  5,heid  in  New- York,  on  the  20th 
of  April  last,the  following  officers  were 
jiiuly  elected  for  the  present  year: — 

George  Howard,  M.  E.  G.  C. 

Garret  Morgan,  Generalissimo. 

John  Telfair,  C.  G. 

Silas  Lyon,  M.  E.  Prelate. 

B.  W.  Pedt,  S.  G.  W. 

Joel  Jones,  J.  O.  W. 

Nicholas  Rosse,  Treasurer. 

W.  F.  Piatt,  Recorder. 

Edward  Higgins,  S.  B. 

'Thm.  M'Cready,  S.  B. 

John  Niles,  Warder. 

John  Utt,  Sentind. 
Pkase-pahlishtbe  above,  and  oblige 
Tottrf,&c. 
W.F.  PIATT,  Rewnfcr. 


Extract  of.  a  letter  from  GranVyi^,  Ohio, 
to  the  Editor  of  the  Masonic  Register, 
dated  July  20, 1821.  * 

"  The  brethren  of  Centre  gtar 
Lodge,  with  a  number  of  visiting  breth- 
ren, celebrated  the  anniversary  of  St. 
John  tde  Baptist,  on  Monday  the  25th 
of  June  last.  At  ten  o'clock  A.  M. 
they  assembled  at  Mason-Hall,  and 
formed  a  procession,  wliich  moved  to 
the  meeting-house,  accompanied  by  a 
band  of  music,  where  an  oration  on 
the  design  and  principles  of  the  insti- 
tution was  delivered  by  Brother  W.  S.. 
Orchards.  The  officers  of  the  lodge 
were  installed  by  companion  B. 
Smith;  after  which  the  procession 
moved  to  the  house  of  brother  W.  War- 
ner, and  partook  of  a  sumptuous  din- 
ner, and  the  festivities  of  the  day  were 
concluded  with  a  splendid  ball  in  tlie 
evening.'* 


NEW  MA80NIC  WORK. 
We  have  received  the  two  first  num- 
bers of  the  Afiuoiftc  Miscellany  J  and 
Ladie^  Literary  Magazine^  by  our 
M.  E.  companion  William  Gibbs 
Hunt,  ofLexmgton,  Kentucky.  We 
find  it  handsomely  printed,  and  con- 
taining matter  botli  instructive  and  en- 
tertaining. Such  Gentlemen  or  Ladieffy 
as  are  desirous  of  becoming  subscri- 
bers to  this  valuable  work,  will  please 
to  forward  their  names  to  the  editor 
of  the  Masonic  Register.  For  the 
terms  of  subscription  the  reader  is  re- 
ferred to  our  notice  of  the  prospectt^ , 
in  No.  10,  page  399- 

SUMMARir. 

On  the  4th  of  April  last,  the  new 
Masonic  Hall  of  St.  John's  Lodge  at 
Darien,  Georgia,  was  solemnly  dedi- 
cated. An  impressive  address  on  the 
occasion,  was  delivered  by  the  M.  W. 
Grand  Master,  W.  P.  Charlton,  Esq. 

The  new  grand  lodge  in  Missouri, 
was  solemnly  consecrated,  and  their 
officers  installed  on  the  4th  of  May 
last. 

A  new  mark  master's  lodge  has 
recently  been  formed  at  Cynthiana, 


464 


MfTOKIUUn 


Kentacky/ under  a  dispensation  from 
the  deputy  grand  high  priest  of  that 
state. 

A  new  grand  lodge  has  lately  been 
organized  in  the  stale  of  Alabama. 

A  recent  edict  of  the  government  of 
Naples,  prohibtts  all  seoret  associa- 
tions whatsoever,  which  is  a  direct 
attack  upon  the  institution  of  Mason- 
ry. The  same  edict  requhres  all  per- 
sons, forthwith  to  surrender  all  em- 
blems, books,  or  papers,  belonging 
to  such  associations,  which  they  may 
have  In  their  possession. 

The  Masonic  lodge-room,  at  Bath, 
Upper  Canada,  was  consumed  by  fire 
on  the  4th  of  June  last.  We  are  hap- 
py however  to  state,  that  the  jewels 
and  furniture  were  saved. 

A  new  Free-Mason's  Lodge  has 
been  established  at  Miiford,  in  Wales, 
which  was  opened  a  short  time  ago, 
and  drew  together  not  less  than  2000 
persons.  AAer  the  installation,  the 
ijodies  were  admitted  to  the  Lodge, 
and  the  marbled  walls,  the  star  in  the 
east,  the  full  sun  in  the  south,  and  its 
wild,  descending  beams  in  the  west, 
with  the  brethren  in  full  Masonic  cos- 
tume, had  a  novel  and  most  striking 
effect. 


HISTORICAL. 

FoK  TBE  Masonic  Register. 

NAPOLEON'S  MEMOIRS. 

A  work  appeared  in  London,  about 
two  years  ^o,  entitled,  ^^  Historical 
Memoirs  of  Napoleon*  Book  IX. 
Translatea  from  the  original  MS* 
by  B.  E,  (yMeara.^*  From  that  time, 
the  public  have  impatiently  waited  for 
an  opinion  respecting  its  authenticity, 
from  some  of  the  leading  British  Re- 
views; but  they,  as  yet,  have  ob- 
served a  studied  silence ;  and  this  is 
the  more  extraordinary,  as.  none  of 
tKose  celebrated  productions  are  re- 
markable for  taciturnity  when  an  oc- 
casion like  the  present  offers.  That 
the  work  before  us,  as  a  literary  com- 
position, is  very  superior  to  many  that 


they  have  wfA  avidity  fastened  upoi^ 
diere  can  be  little  question  $  and  it  is 
no  less  certain,  that  those  who  codd 
bestow  elaborate  essays  on  the  setf* 
written  narratives  of  corporal .  Goss, 
and  Robert  Adams,  might,  witbootthe 
sacrifice  of  much  dignity,  haw  devoted 
at  least  a  few  pages  to  the  aoto-biogiih 
phy  of  a  man, 

*'  At  whose  name,  (he  world  once  gnw 
pale." 

Dr.  O'Meara,  the  translator,  was 
surgeon  of  the  Bellerophon,  when  the 
emperor  came  on  board  i  and  in  Ins 
professional  capacity  (by  request)  ac- 
companied him  to  the  place  of  ^xlU, 
He  remained  at  St.  Helena  for  a  con- 
siderable time,  but  in  consequence  of 
a  disagreement  with  sir  Hudson  Lowe, 
the  commander,  he  was  finally  arrest- 
ed and  sent  home  to  England.  l%e 
cause  of  this  harsh  treatment  appears 
to  have  been  the  refusal  of  the  doctor 
to  administer  certain  potions,  whose 
beneficent  eflkacy  was  far  from  being 
acknowledged  in  the  pharmacopoeia  of 
the  schools.  Sir  Huddy  was  on  ikas 
occasion,  like  king  John  with  Hubert, 
somewhat  ambiguous  in  his  prescrip- 
tions, and  the  honest  surgeon 


"  was  wont  lo  be  so  dull,** 

as  to  require  of  the  enpyriCy  a  written 
formula,  before  he  would  conseolto 
subject  himpielf  to  the  fete  ol  <<^the 
Moor,'^  who  became 

"  FaU'n  in  the  pradke  of  a  cursed  dai^* 

This  "most  foul"  charge  against  Ae 
Ahhorson  of  St.  Helena,  is  contcadEct- 
ed  however,  by  testimony  which  many 
will  deem  conclusive — the  just  and 
equitable  principles  of  the  holy  afii- 
ance — the  unblemished  moral  reputa- 
tion of  his  present  majesty,  George 
IV. — and  above  all,  the  meek  and 
merciful  character  of  the  iodividnils 
that  compose  his  ministry. 

Be  this  as  it  may ;  the  circumstances 
connected  with  the  late  situation  of 
Dr.  P^Meara,  would  certain^  point 
him  out  as  a  probable  medium  throc^ 
which  the  manuscripts  of  tfie  Impri- 
soned emperor  woiud  he,|iren  to  the 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIc 


world:  yet  In  the  editorial  department 
of  tbe  work,  we  find  nothing  verifying 
that  anticipation.  On  the  contrary, 
tbe  preface  states  only,  that  the  origin- 
al naanuscrtpt,  which  ia  ^faithfully 
translated/'  is  in  Che  same  handwri- 
tiug  lis  a  certain  letter  which  Napo- 
leon once  eigned.  The  internal  evi- 
dence of  tbe  work  itself  also  proves 
tbat  it  is  not  an  authorized  production. 
For,  let  tbe  fox-hunting  ecclesiastics  of 
England  consider  him  in  whatsoever 
light  they  may,  we  are  fcur  from  be- 
lieving that  one  who  stood  so  littld  in 
need  of  self-praise,  would  descend  to 
tbe  puerile  vanity  of  designating  him- 
self by  the  inflated  egotistical  epithets, 
so  profusely  scattered  through  tbe 
Toluroe. 

Tbe  truth  of  the  matter,  however,  is 
this — ^Napoleon,  during  his  imprison- 
ment,  has  certainly  been  engaged  in 
compiling  a  history  of  his  eventful  life ; 
and  in  this  undertaking,  some  of  his 
attendanu  have  acted  as  transcribers. 
Tbe  work  of  general  Oourgaud,  is 
avowedly  the  production  of  one  of 
tbem,  and  these  ^'  Memoirs"  are  noth- 
ing more  than  an  interpolated  copy 
of  some  other  amanuensis  there  em* 
yed. 


ploye< 
The 


be  extensive  information,  tbe  sound 
military  maxims,  and  consistent  detail 
of  events,  irresistibly  compel  us  to 
acknowledge  tbat  they  could  have 
been  drawn  but  from  one  source:  and 

£et,  the  numerous  defects,  and  the 
lirried  neglect  with  which  many  sub- 
jects, on  which  the  c  noperor  was  ibnd 
of  dilating,  are  passed  over,  as  forcibly 
induce  us  to  believe  that  they  are  not 
given  exactly  as  he  himself  would 
have  <^set  them  down."  This  last 
objection  appears  in  one  instance  to 
have  suggested  itself  to  tbe  editor,  as 
be  acknowle<%es  that  it  is  expedient  to 
transcribe  the  Moniteur  account  of 
the  journey  from  Elba  to  Paris,  ia  or- 
der to  illustrate  tbe  ^  very  succinct" 
narrative  of  tbat  event  in  tbe  Memoirs. 
In  the  introductory  remarks  prefix- 
ed to  tbe  ninth  book,  it  is  asserted 
4hat  tbe  preceding  section^  or  eighth 


46s 


book,  was  iken  in  the  preu:  Its  loi^ 
continuance  there,  however,  we  fear, 
will  make  no  very  favooraUe  tinprea-' 
sioit  wkb  tbe  reader,  as  to  tbe  conft* 
deuce  tbat  may#e  reposed  in  wliat 
has  already  been  %iven  the  public 
This  portion  comprises  only  the  last 
reign  of  the  emperor ;  and  as  the  facta 
stated  are  incontrovertible,  we  iball 
proceed  to  give  in  substance  the  de- 
scription of  tbe  battle  of  Waterioo. 
which,  with  the  exception  of  genernl 
Oourgaud's  account,  is  the  moat  satis- 
factory detail  that  has  yet  appeared. 
BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO. 
On  the  15th  June,  1815,  the  Empe- 
ror entered  the  territories  of  the  ene- 
my, at  the  head  of  122,000  men.  The 
Prussians  being  unprepared,  and  in  a 
manner  scattered,  fell  back  after  some 
severe  skirmishing,  to  Ligny.  'The 
next  day,  the  l6th,  a  general  attack 
was  made  on  their  line,  which  was 
broken,  and  driven  back  after  a  loss 
«f  twenty  thousand  men,  on  the  road 
to  Wavre.  On  the  same  day  the 
Anglo-Belgian  army  was  routed  at 
Quatre  Bras,  and  forced  to  retreat  on 
the  road  to  Wateiloo.  Here,  for  the 
better  understanding  of  the  subject,  it 
may  be  necessary  to  state,  that  from 
Charleroy,  where  the  French  invaded 
the  Netherlands,  two  principal  roads 
diverged-^one  leading  to  Wavre,  fnd 
tbe  other  to  WateHoo,  as  is  laid  down 
in  the  annexed  diagram.  The  sides 
of  the  triangle  being  about  5  leagues 
each,  in  extent. 

Waterloo^  » ^  Wavre. 


Quatre  Bras.  * 


Ligny. 


Lll 


Charleroy. 

Tbe  two  armies  being  completely 
separated  by  the  sudden  advance  of 
the  French,  retured  ia  the  several  di- 


•   Digitized  by 


Google 


46$ 


mroftteAL* 


rectioQt  tk&kiy  MbM.  The 
of  tbe  next  day,  the  17Ui  Jime,  the 
retreat  was  eoatlntied.  The  Ftv»- 
tlans  under  Bkicher,  beinc  followed  by 
■ftarahal  Gro«ciiy,  ^^h  tlie  two  corpi 
of  Vaadanniw  aof  Gerard — and  the 
Aiigb-Belgiaosy  by  tbe  main  army 
•uder  Napoleon.  In  the  evening,  the 
Pk'tiMianf  arrived  at  Wavre,  while 
Gronehy  halted  several  milea  short  of 
them :  die  Coglisb  encamped  at  Wa- 
terloo, and  Napoleon  bivbuaced  in  front 
of  tfaeoK  He  immediately  informed 
Grouchy  that  there  would  be  a  great 
baute  the  next  day,  and  ordered  him 
to  march  at  an  early  hour  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Waterloo,  in  order  to  assist  the 
main  army.  The  conduct  of  the  great 
chief\ain,  on  the  night  preceding  the 
action,  we  shall  give  in  the  language 
of  the  Memoirs — it  forcibly  recalls  to 
mind  the  celebrated  description  of  the 
poet  on  a  similar  occasion. 

it  From  camp  to  camp, 

The  hum  of  cither  army  stilly  soundly 
That  the  fix*d  sentinels  almost  receive 
The  secret  whispers  of  each  other's  watch  : 
Fire  answers  fire;  and  through  th^ir  paly 

(lames 
Each  battle  sees  tAe  other's  tinber*d  face : 
Steed  threatens  steed,  in  high  and  boastful 

nciglis 
Piercing  the  night's  dull  ear.    •  •  O,  now, 

vrho  will  behold 
The  imperial  captain  of  this  bhnd, 
Fst  forth  he  goes,  and  visits  all  his  host." 
Hehry  V. 

«At  one  o'clock  in  tbe  night,  deeply 
occuoied  with  these  important  thoughts, 
be  ten  his  quarters  on  foot,  accompanied 
only  by  his  grand  marshal,  [Bertrand.l  It 
was  hisintention  to  have  folio  wed  the  ting- 
lish  army  in  its  retreat,  and  to  endeavour 
to  attack  it,  notwithstanding  the  darkness 
of  the  nighty  as  soon  as  it  should  com- 
mence its  march.  He  went  the  rounds  of 
f  he  grand  guard.  The  forest  of  Soigness 
appeared  iu  a  blase.  The  boricon  between 
that  forest,  Braine  la  Leude,  and  the  farms 
of  Belle  Alliance  and  of  Haye,  was  re- 
splendent from  the  fires  of  the  bivouacs. 
The  most  profound  silence  reigned.  The 
fatigues  of  the  preceding  days  had  buried 
the  English  army  in  deep  sleep.  Having 
airived  near  the  woods  o^  Chateaii  Hou- 
ffoumont,  he  heard  tbe  noise  of  a^colamn. 
In  march)  now  fbtsWas  the  time  for  the 
rear  guard  to  leave  Its  station,  should  the 
^ttemy  be  retreating;  bat  this  ooise  sooa 


Tte  tain  M  in  fiMr^nts.  Savenl 
officers  sent  out  to  reconnoitre,  and  sfriee^ 
returned  at  half  after  three.  *  •  •  •  Th^ 
English  general  could  not  have  dona  any 
thing  more  contrary  to  the  interests  of  hm 
party  and  aatiaa,  to  the  general  sf^rit  o€ 
tbiscempaijg;n,  and  even  to  the  most  sinw 
pie  rules  ofwar,  than  by  remaining  in  tha 
position  he  occupied.  Behind  falm  was  tbe 
defiles'  of  tbe  forest  of  Soignes.  Should  he 
be  beaten,  ell  retreat  would  be  cut  off. 
The  French  troops  were  encamped  io  tha 
mud.  The  officers  judged  it  impossible  to 
give  battle  that  day.  The  artillery  and 
cavalry  could  not  manoeuvre  on  the  ground, 
it  being  so  very  wet  and  soft.  They  cal- 
ddated  upon  its  requiring  twelve  hoars  uf 
fine  weather  to  diry  it.  The  day  com* 
menced  dawninr.  The  emperor  returned 
to  his  head  quaners,  Well  pleased  with  the 
great  fault  the  eneoiy^s  general  had  com- 
mitted, apd  much  regreUing  lest  the  bad 
weather  should  prevent  him  taking  advan- 
tage of  it.  But  already  it  had  commenced 
clearing  up.  At  five  he  perceived  a  few 
weak  rays  of  that  sun  which  would  set  wifb 
tbe  destruction  of  the  Englbh  army.  The 
British  oligarchy  would  be  overthrowQ. 
France  was  to  rise  on  that  day  more  glo- 
rious, more  powerful,  and  greater  ^an 
ever!!!'" 

In  the  mdmingof  the  IStU  June, 
1815,  both  armies  were  drawn  up  in 
order  of  battle.  The  right  of  the 
English  army  under  the  prince  of 
Orange,  was  strongly  pasted  in  the 
woods  of  Hougoumont;  their  centre 
under  the  eye  of  Wellington  himself, 
on  La  H^e  Sainte;  and  their  left 
wing,  commanded  by  general  Picton, 
occupied  an  advantageous  position  in 
the  ferm  of  La  Haye :  Thenr  whole 
force  amounting  to  90,000  men.  1^ 
French  army,  after  some  preliminary 
movements,  assumed  the  Mowing  or^ 
der-*-The  right  wing  was  commanded 
by  cotrot  Lobau  ;  the  centre  by  count 
O^rion;  and  the  left  by  count  Rtille : 
The  whole  comprising  neariy  70,000 
to^.  The  artilleiy  of  cither  army  was 
about  the  same-^250  pieces  on  a  side. 
The  action  conmienced  towards  11 
o'clbck,  by  the  attack  ofJerorae  Napo- 
le<6n,  (who  commanded  the  extreme 
division  of  the  left  wing,  of  Reille  ;) 
on  the  right  of  the  Briti^,  stationed  at 
Hougoumont 

**  The  cannonade*  soon  becfamc  Very  se- 
vste.   Pkince  Jerome  several  times  oarried 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC  • 


ftllTOftlG^. 


46r 


Ibt.woodpf  HoqconmoBt,  tndaevenl  times 
was  repulsed.  U  was  defended  by  tbe  di- 
vision of  English  gu&rds,  the  best  of  the 
enemy's  titkops.  jrhese  being  placed  on 
Iris  right  was  of  considerabie  advantage  to 
the  French,  as  it  renderec)  the  grand  attack 
on  his  led  more  efisy.  Fov's  divisipn  sus- 
tained prince  lerome*s.  rrodi^e^  of  va- 
lour were  displayed  on  both  sides.  The 
*£nglidi  guards  covered  the  woods  and 
avenues  with  their  dead  bodies,  but  not 
without  selling  their  lives  dearly.  After 
fbany  vicissitudes,  which  occupied  several 
hours  t>f  the  day,  the  entire  wood  was  in 
possession  of  the  French.  The  chateau 
into  which  a  few  hundred  intrepid  soldiers 
had  thrown  themselves,  made  an  obstinate' 
resistance.  The  emperor  qrdered  a  bat- 
tery of  eight  howitzers  to  be  formed,  which 
set  fire  to  the  barns  and  roofs,  and  enabled 
the  French  to  become  masters  of  the  post. 
The  honour  of  commanding  the  frand 
attack  of  the  centre,  was  conferred  on 
marshal  Ncy.  It  could  not  have  been  en- 
trusted to  a  braver  person,  or  one  more 
accustomed  to  such  operationB.  He  sent 
one  of  hb  aids-de-camp  to  announce  all 
being  ready,  and  that  the  signal  was  only 
waited  (or.  Before  giving  it,  the  emperor 
again  surveyed  the  field  of  battle,  and  per- 
ceived in  the  direction  of  St.  Lambert, 
somethinK  that  seemed  like  troops.  He 
said  to  hu  major-general,  [Soult,]  <<  Mar- 
shal, what  do  you  see  towards  St.  Lam- 
bert .'  1  believe  I  see  five  or  six  thousand 
men.  It  is  probably  a  detachment  from 
Gronchv."  AU  the  (passes  of  the  staff  were 
turned  m  that  direction.  The  weather  was 
considerably  foggy.  *  As  it  happens  on 
such  occasions,  some  maintained,  that  it 
was  not  troops,  but  trees ;  others  that  it 
was  eolnmns  in  position;  others  again, 
that  it  was  troops  on  the  mareh." 

Itwasy  ho wever^  soon  ascertained 
that  it  was  not  9  detachment  from  Grou^ 
chy,  but  ^'  the  advanced  guard  of  the 
Prussian  general  Bulow,  who  was 
marching  on  with  30,000  men ;'' 
which  constituted  their  fourth  corps, 
and  had  not  been  engaged  in  any  of 
the  previous  actions. 

<<  The  emperor  immediately  ordered 
count  Lobau  to  cross  the  road  of  Charle- 
n>y  by  a  movement  on  the  right  of  hb  two 
divbions,  to  march  to  the  support  of  the 
light  cavalry  towards  St.  Lambert^  to 
choose  a  good  intermediate  position, 
where  with  10,000  men,  he  might  keep  in 
check  dOfiOO,  if  that  should  be  necessary ; 
to  attack  the  Prussians  vigorously,  as  soon 
ss  he  should  hear  the  cannqp  of  the  troops 
detached  to  their  rear  by  marshal  Grouchy." 


Ordevi  bad  be«a  tbtady  tranaaiitted 
to  the  latter  Gommapder,  to  ibfkt  efif  c^ 
and  the  total  destruction  of  the  corp$ 
of  Bulew,  was  anticipated  as  the  re- 
sult of  this  moveiM^pt,  combined  witb 
the  attack  op  iu  Uront^  ^*  by  (as  tb^ 
Memoir^  state)  a  man  of  count  Lor 
ban's  chajracter/-  About  noon  the 
action  becaine  general  a4o«ff  the  vholf 
line.  On  the  right  of  the  Pritish^  the 
chateau  of  Qougoumont  had  alm4y 
been  taken.  And  after  a  dreadfol 
contest  of  three  hours,  the  farqi  of  La. 
Haye  Sainte,  constituting  their  centre, 
was  carried  hy  marshal  Ney.  The 
left  wing  of  their  army  had  also  been 
driven  ont  of  La  Haye  by  count 
D'Erlon,  and  was,  by  the  movereenli 
completely  separated  fromi  the  Pru«» 
sians. 

«  The  victory  (sap  the  Nkmoirs)  was 
won ;  69,000  Frenchmen  had  overcome 
120,000  of  the  enemy.  Joy  was  in  every 
eountenanee,  and  hope  enlivened  every 
breast." 

Such  was  the  situation  of  affairs  on 
the  arrival  of  general  INucber,  about 
son-aet,  with  another  division  of  thirty 
thousand  men.  Every  thing  was  now 
changed — the  retreating  Prussians  wi- 
der Bulow,  rallied,  and  joined  the  ad- 
vancing corps  of  Blucher;  and  the 
English  eommander,  Inspired  by  the 
movements  on  his  left,  at  the  same, 
time  ordered  a  general  chargi^  on  iie 
right.  The  ov^throw  was  complete. 
"  Cavalry,  artillery,  infantry,  (tayt  the  Me- 
moirs) were  all  thrown  together  in  con- 
tusion. The  staff  gained  the  small  villa^ 
of  Genappe.  The  emperor  was  in  hopes 
of  there  organising  a  rear  guard ;  but  the 
disorder  was  so  gre#t,  that  every  effort 
was  in  vain." 

Such  was  the  fatal  result  of  the  bat<* 
tie  of  Waterloo.  Its  consequences  it 
is  unnecessary  to  detail.  We  shall 
therefore  close  ow  article,  with  a  tran« 
sient  notice  of  the  gallant  leaders,  who 
here  supported  the  cause  of  science 
and  of  (jBeedom,  against  that  of  bigotry 
and  despotism*  Napoleon  himself,  is 
chained  to  an  insidated  rock,  wJhkh, 
so  long  as  it  towers  its  bead  above  the 
waters  of  the  ocean,  will  remain  a 
monument  of  British  pf(rft4|y  and  J**- 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


468 


HinWtCAlt* 


jvBtiice!  Blar^l  Soalt,  (duke  of  Dal- 
■lalia)  who  acted  as  <^  major  general 
of  the  array/'  escaped  into  Germany ;  4 
twt  has  since  been  permitfed  to  return, 
and  BOW  resides  in4iis  native  depart- 
ment of  Tarn.  Marshal  Ney,  prince 
tif  Mosqtia,  who  led  the  attack  on  the 
British  centre,  after  the  restoration  of 
the  Bovrbons,  underwent  the  mockery 
of  a  "  trial  by  his  peers,'*  and  receired 
ventence  of  death,  at  a  traitor  to  that 
country,  in  whose  service  he  had  ex- 
posed bis  life  IB  Biore  than  five  hun- 
dred battles !! ! 

The  forces  in  line,  were  command- 
ed by  three  lieutenant  generals — men 
of  known  valour  and  reputation  ;^  and 
what  may  perhaps  be  w<Mthy  of  re- 
tnark,  they  were  -all  engaged  in  the 
Peninsular  war  ^  but  neither  of  them 
served  in  the  disastrous  Russian  cam- 
paign. Count  Lobau,  who  will  be 
better  known  to  those  familiar  with  the 
French  bulletins,  as  Mouton  Duver- 
net,  derived  his  title  from  the  daring 
valour  which  he  evinced  on  the  retreat 
of  the  army  to  the  island  of  Inder  Lo- 
bau, near  Vienna.  He  was  made  a 
prisoner  at  Waterloo,  but  returning 
to  France  under  a  promised  amnesty, 
he  was  perfidiously  tried  by  a  council 
of  war,  and  shot  at  Lyons  the  26th 
July,  1816.  He  met  death  with  re- 
oaarkable  firmness ;  and  from  the  whole 
lenur  ^f  his  life,  he  has  not  inaptly 
been  tehned,  ^  the  last  of  the  Romans.'* 

Drouet,  count  D'Ciion,  the  son  ot 
the  post-master  who  prevented  the 
escape  of  the  king  in  the  early  period 
of  the  revolution  ;  and  count  Reille, 
who  married  a  daughter  of  marshal 
Massena,  were  both  banished  from  the 
French  territories,  and  have  not  (we 
believe)  yet  return^. 

Marshal  Grouchy,  who  on  hearing 
of  the  overthrow  of  the  main  body, 
made  a  skilful  retreat  to  Paris  ;  after- 
wards sailed  for  the  United  States,  and 
remained  in  this  country  feveral  years, 
until  he  received  permission  of  the 
French  government  to  return  home. 
While  here,  he  published  a  justificatory 
memoir  of  his  cooduct  at  Waterloo^  in  | 


reply  to  the  narratite  ofgeneniil  Goop* 
gaud.     From  a  perusal  of  all  that  has 
been  written  on  the  subject,  it  appear* 
that  Grouchy  was  ordered  to  pursue 
the  Prussians  closely,  but  not  to  eft- 
verge  so  far  from  the  route  of  thm 
main  body  of  the  French  army,  om  to 
pretfent  his  joining  them  at  a    verjr 
short  notice.     During  the  man^,  hie 
repeatedly  informed  the   emperor  of 
the  progress  made,  and  of  hb  intended 
direction;  and  the  emperor  as  fr^ 
quectly  replied  that  he  was  satisfied 
with  his  course,  but  at  the  same  tine 
premonished  him  not  to  be  drawn  to 
too  great  a  distance  from  the  BMm 
army.     In  short,  it  is  evident  that  M. 
GroQchy,  although  equally  iaidiful  and 
intrepid,  was  entrusted  oa  tUs  occa- 
sion, with  a  discretionary  power  too 
extensive  for  hb  abilities. 

Since  the  preceding  article  was 
put  to  press,  intelligence  has  been  re- 
ceived of  the  death  of  this  eztraordi- 
nary  man — ^whether  occasioned  by  the 
deprivations  to  which  he  was  subject* 
ed,  or  by  a  more  direct  and  less  tardy 
process,  is  not  yet  ascertained :  Nor  is 
it  material  to  know;  as  the  ahema* 
tive  can  detract  but  little  from  the 
odium  which  the  British  nation  has 
incurred  by  their  treatment  of  a  hero, 
the  moKt  palpable  error  of  wboae  life 
was,  the  reposing  a  confidence  in  a 
government  utterly  destitute  of  either 
justice  or  generosity.* 

Of  Napoleon  himself  we  shall  say 
nothing — his  deeds  speak  for  them* 
selves.  No  period  of  his  life  can  be 
pointed  out  unworthy  of  our  admira- 
tion— whether  we  view  him  at  his 
studies  in  the  Military  Academy — 
sparing  the  lives  of  a  Parisian  mob^ 
by  blank  voliies  of  musquetry-HMT 

*  Our  correspondent  might  with  propri- 
etv  have  mentioned,  that,  the  present 
**king  of  Eni^and*'  was  oound  to  the 
"  emperor  Napoleon'*  bv  stronger  ties  than 
is  i^enerally  knovm  to  the  worra  ;  and  that 
the  M.  W  G  P.  M.  of  England,  has  forfeit- 
ed every  claim  to  the  confidence  of  eveik 
his  meanest  sabjects. 

£v.  Mas.  Bm. 

DigitizedjDy  VjOOQIC 


wifa  liis  omn  bmds  spoittiag  and 
loading  a  caonoa  oa  the  field  of  bat- 
tie-r— heading  his  granadiers  on  the 
bridge  of  Lodi ;  or  seizing  a  standard 
at  the  passage  of  the  Arcda — whether 
battering  the  towers  of  Mantua;  or 
decorating  the  tonib  of  ks  immortal 
poet--<onsoling  the  widow  of  a  fallen 
officer ;  or  dictating  terms  to  a  con- 
quered despot.  Wt^ther  directing  the 
movement  of  armies  on  the  sacred 
simunlts  of  Mount  Tabor;  or  measur- 
ing pyramids,  and  deciphering  obe- 
iidEB  in  the  fertile  plains  of  Egypt. 
Ordering  the  assault  of  a  Turkbh 
rampart;  or  visiting  his  sick  soldiery 
amidst  the  <^  pests  of  Jaffa."  Whe- 
ther we  observe  him,  retiring  over  the 
Danube,  as  a  discomfited  assailant; 
or  crossing  it  at  the  head  of  his  vic- 
torious columns — ttruf^ing  for  ascen- 
dency on  the  banks  of  the  Tagus ;  or 
opposing  (testiny  among  the  snows  of 
Russia.  Whether  comtoing  whh  the 
Arab  of  the  desert;  or  contending  with 
the  philosophers  of  the  Institute.  To 
conclude — whether  we  view  him,  in 
all  the  grandeur  of  majesty,  giving 
audience  to4he  ambassadors  of  subju- 
gated Europe;  or  ruminating  among 
the  rocks  of  St.  Helena,  we  find  the 
same  collected  courage,  sdf-command, 
and  intellectual  penetration — associ- 
ated with  exploits  whose  renown  sur- 
C»es  that  of  all  who  have  preened 
,  and  to  which  none  that  succeed, 
can  ever  hope  to  aspire.    ■  R. 

CAS.iBlANCA. 
We  insert  the  following  inttapee  of  filial 
affecttoD,  £rbjD  a  work  on  the  political  con- 

"ditioQ  of  Holhmd,  by  Loub  Bonaparte. 

It  affords  an  apposite  ilkutration  of  the 
beautiful  scene  between  the  dying  Talbot 
and  his  son;  and  is  another  evidence  (if 
•ay  were  desirable)  of  the  fidelity  with 
which  the  great  dramatist  hath  delineated 
the  sensations  of  the  soiil»  in  situations, 
however  novel  or  trying. 

Tul.  wm  thou  yet  leave  the  battle,  boy, 

and  fly, 
^ow  thoa  art  sealed  the  4on  of  eblvalry. 


409 

John,  fielbrr  yoimg  Talbot  bom  oM  Tal- 
bot fly, 

The  coward  horse,  that  bears  me,  fall  and 
die. 

Henry  ikp.l 

<'  At  the  battle  of  Aboakir,  and  at  the 
time  of  the  eiplosion  of  the  French  ship 
L'Orient,  the  conduct  and  death  of  young 
Casablanca,  are  very  worthv  of  remark. — 
This  child,  thirteen  y^ars  old,  displayed  a 
most  wonderful  activity.  Placed  at  the 
batteries,  he  encouraged  the  gunners  and 
sailors,  and  as  during  the  heat  of  the  action 
the  firing  was  retarded  by  too  much  zeal 
and  emotion,  he  restored  order  and  calm- 
ness with  a  coolness  wonderful  for  his  age. 
When  hb  father  was  mortally  wounded, 
he  was  ignorant  of  it;  fire  having  appear- 
ed on  the  L'Orient,  the  guns  were  aban- 
doned, and  this  courageous  child  remained 
alone,  crying  loudly  to  his  father,  to  know 
whether  he  might  abandon  his  post  with- 
out dishonour,  as  the  others  were  doing.— 
The  fire  made  terrible  advances,  and  he  still 
waited  for  hb  father's  answer,  but  in  vain. 
At  last,  an  old  sailor  found  him,  acquaint- 
ed him  with  the  mbfortune  of  the  elder 
Casabianca,  and  that  he  was  deputed  to 
save  his  son  by  swimming.  He  refused, 
and  ran  into  the  gun-room.  As  soon  as  he 
peroelVffd  hb  father,  he  threw  htmself  updn 
him,  embraced  him  closely,  and  declared 
he  would  never  quit  him.  Ia  vain  hb  fa- 
ther besought  and  threatened  him,  in  vain 
the  old  sailor,  attached  to  hb  mftfiter,  wish- 
ed to  render  him  this  last  service.  ^*.l  am 
going  to  die,  I  will  die  with  my  father,'* 
answered  the  generous  child.  <*  There  b 
but  one  moment  more,*'  observed  the  sail- 
or, I  shall  have  hardly  time  to  save  my- 
self, farewell."  The  fire  approached  t  be 
powder,  the  vessel  blaw  np  with  young 
Casabianca,  who  covered  in  vam  with  his 
body  the  mutilated  remains  of  his  father. 
This  fact  was  told  to  Oeu.  Kleber  and 
Louis  at  Alexandria  by  the  old  sailor." 


THE  FEAST  OF  CHERRIES. 
There  is  a  feast  celebrated  at  Ham- 
burgh, called  the  feast  af  Cherries,  in 
which  troops  of  children  parade  the 
streets,  with  green  boughs  ornamented 
with  cherries,  to  commemorate  a  vic- 
tory obtained  in  the  following  manner. 
In  1432  the  Hussites  threatened  jth^ 
city  of  Hamburgh  with  immediate  de- 
struction, when  one  of  the  citizens, 
named  Wolf,  proposed  that  all  the 
children  of  the  city,  from  seven  to  four- 
teen yean  of  age,  should  be  clad  in 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


4^0 


inSCUAAMBOUt. 


Baourniag,  and  sent  as  supplicaBts  to 
the  enemy.  Procopius  Nassus,  chief 
of  the  Hossites,  was  so  touched  with 
this  spectacle^  that  h^  received  the 
joung  supplicants,  regaled  them  with 
cherries  and  other  fmits^  and  promised 
them  to  spare  the  city.  The  children 
returned  crowned  with  leaves,  holding 
cherries,  and  crying  victarp. 

GEORGE  n, 
Did  not  like  either  the  principles  or 
measures  of  Pitt  and  Temple.  So  lit- 
tle was  he  satisfied  with  the  language 
put  into  his  mouth  at  the  opening  of 
the  session,  that  hearing  of  a  printer 
who  was  to  be  punished  for  publishing 
a  spurious  speech  from^he  throne,  he 
expressed  his  hope  that  the  man's  sen- 
tence would  be  mild,  because  he  had 
read  both,  and  so  far  as  he  could  un- 
derstand either  of  them,  he  liked  the 
spurious  speech  bettei^than  the  real 


MISCELLANEOUS. 

■    ■     ■   ■     ■  ..      -  -      - 

Fob  the  Masonic  Reoister. 
THE  EXILE. 
Mr.  Pratt, 

'Having  lately  returned  from  the 
country,  after  an  absence  of  several 
weeks,  during  t^hich  time,  I  had  the 
misfortune  to  meet  with  a  most  griev- 
ous and  painful  affliction,  besides 
being  myself  confined  with  a  distress- 
ing malady,  for  the  most  part  of  the 
time  ;  it  was  not  without  emotions  of 
regret  that  I  learned,  soon  after  my  ar- 
rival in  the  city,*  that  my  old  and  true 
friend  Mr.  •♦*«»♦•♦,  had  been  re- 
duced to  the  necessity  of  partii^  with 
his  possessions,  his  home,  and  Us  off, 
and  flyii^  with  his  family,  like  an  ex- 
ile, to  some  more  hospitable  lands. 

Struck  with  so  unexpected  a  cir- 
cumstance, and  conshlering  the  situa- 
tion in  liie  which  he  bad  once  occu- 
pied, I  could  not  avoid  reflecting  oo 
the  unforeseen  vicissitudes  of  life,  and 
the  uncertainty  of  all  human  events.*— 


With  a  view  tbereHsre  of  AMdiMiiif  at 
the  causes,  which  are  daily  hurling  cor 
fellow-mortals  from  *a  conditioB  of  af- 
fluence, respectability,  and  indepen- 
dence, to  a  dismal  state  of  penury  md 
want,  and  more  particulariy  of  direct- 
ing my  attention  to  the  misAMtunes  of 
this  man,  for  whom  I  lelt  so  lively  to 
interest,  I  silently*  withdrew  from 
my  informant,  and  seated  myself  by  s 
window,,  which,  notwithstanding  tbe 
violent  heat  of  the  day,  afforded  a  suf- 
ficiency of  air,  to  revive  my  droopiog 
spirits,  and  gave  me  a  free  opportunity 
for  solitary  reflection* 

This  man,  said  I  to  ravself,  omcc 
enjoyed  all  the  comforts,  all  tbepeace^ 
and  all  the  respect,  which  virtue,  com- 
petence, and  even  wealth  conld  pur- 
chase. Surrounded  by  a  numerous, 
yet  endearing  family,  he  knew  oo 
troubles,  save  those  which  ever  attend 
the  man  of  business,  to  which  be 
pleasurably  submitted,  inorder  to))n>- 
vide  for  their  present  necessities  and 
future  enjoyments.  Ever  ready  to 
serve  the  cause  of  education,  and  ie»> 
der  it  all  the  service  in  his  power,  he 
devoted  thirty  of  his  best  years,  to  this 
all-important  subject : — during  wUcb 
time,  be  by  his  incessant  labours,  cooh 
pleted  the  most  systematic,  and  best 
digested  code  of  English  school  books, 
ever  offered  to  the  American  pubfic 
Of  this  s^efn  of  elementary  inMm^ 
tion,  we  design  to  speak  more  paite- 
larly  hereafter;  suffice  it  for  the  pio- 
sent,  that  the  selections  are  from  iSae 
most  approved  authors,  interspersed 
with  observations  founded  on  thirty 
years  of  practical  ejtperience  in  tiK 
business  of  instruction.  The  constant 
and  zealous  friend  of  die  rising  gene- 
ration, he  not  only  united  his  own 
abilities  and  perseverance,  to  improve 
their  minds,  and  prepare  them  for  use- 
fulness, but  he  oJled  to  his  aid  Ae 
most  able  and  experienced  coadjutois, 
thereby  placiK  himself  at  the  hc«d, 
and  becoming  die  proprietor  of  one  ef 
the  most  extensive  and  lespectaWe 
seminaries  in  this,  or  anv  otter  ^' 
in  the  Vailed  States;  Am  * 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


a  door  by  which  huadredt  of  oar  most 
respectable  youth  entered,  and  receiv- 
ed that  instruction,  which  has  fitted 
tibem  for  those  important  places  of 
trust  and  profit,  which  they  now  enjoy. 
Charitable  to  the  poor,  and  more 
especially  to  those  who  were,  or  liad 
been  engaged  in  the  same  business 
frith  himself,  his  door  was  ever  open, 
and  the  unfortunate  or  aged  teacher 
enjoyed  a  hearty  welcon^e.  Nor  did 
bis  bounty  stop  here;  often  has  he 
been  known,  not  only  to  ^^  feed  the 
hungry  and  clothe  the  naked,''  but 
generously  to  supply  their  pecuniary 
wants,  and  snatch  from  indigence  the 
family  of  those,  on  whom  adversity 
had  unkindly  frowned. 

And  now,  what  remains  of  all  the 
Worldly  possessions   and  reputation, 
which  the  industry  and  perseverance 
of  this  modern  Solon  had  so  dearly 
purchased.    Where  are    now,  those 
pretended  admirers,  those  base  syco- 
phants, who  once  surrounded  his  per- 
son,  and  whom  his  generosity   and 
kindness  have  raised  from  the  dust  ? 
When  prosperity  gladdened  his  foot- 
steps', his  company,  his  instructions, 
his  experience,  and  even  his  assbtance, 
were    eagerly   sought,   by  those  on 
whom  fohune  had  hitherto  neglected 
to  smile ;    if  his  fellow  Teacher  was 
destitute  of  the  means  of  providing  for 
his  family,  and  of  commencing  hb  la- 
bours in  the  vineyard  of  instruction,  he 
met  with  a  sure  resource  in  the  breast 
t\(  th\s  friend  to  the  friendless — and 
the  fact  b  notorious,  that  some  of  the 
most  popular  school  establishments, 
how  in  thb  city,  owe  their  present 
prosperity  to  the  pecuniary  assistance 
and  influence  afforded  to  them  in  their 
commencement,  by  Mr.  ..    But 

now  his  days  of  prosperity  have  fled, 
and  with  them,  have  fled  those  numer- 
OQs  and  pretended  friends^  who 
through  hb  generosity,  have  obtained 
their  present  popularity.  They  no 
longer  need  hb  friendship;  he  has 
placed  them  above  the  wanto  which 
they  once  felt^and  they  have  now  de- 
serted hhn  ;  die  unseen  hand  of  ad- 


msCKLLANBOUS.  471 

versity  has  overtaken  him,  and  ^^aaark- 
ed  him  ft)r  her  own" — Hb  property, 
seised  by  the  merciless  rapacity  of 
those,  '<  whom  his  bounty  fed,''  has 
been  sacriflced  by  the  unfeeling  hand 
which  ought  to  have  been  nnsed  to 
protect  hb  gray  hairs.  His  reputation, 
hitherto  uust^Uied,  is  nowtraduced  by 
the  very  persons,  whom  he  had  faised 
from  obscurity,  and  who  should  have 
been  the  last  to  have  injured  it !  and 
now,  driven  an  exile  from  his  fireside, 
from  that  very  home  which  he  had  so 
humanely  consecrated  to  acts  of  bene- 
ficence, lie  is  left  to  wander,  far  from 
those  kw  friends  which  yet  remain, 
and  to  seek  new  acquaintance  in  a 
strange  land. 

Dis^ted  with  the  thoughts  of  the 
ingratitude  of  man  towards  his  fellow, 
I  inadvertently  exclaimed  in  the  lan- 
guage of  Burns — 'tis 

**  Mao's  inbrnnanity  to  mao, 

"  Makes  countless  thousands  mourn." 

Haying  sat  up  longer  than  usual  in 
my  weak  state,  and  beingf^much  fa- 
tigued for  want  of  rest,  I  retired  from 
tMs  scene  of  gloomy  and  unpleasant 
reflections,  and  sought  repose  on  my 
pillow,  where  I  soon  fell  quietly  into 
the  arms  of  Morpheus. 

JCSTITIA. 


REUQIOUS  NEWS. 
Extract  of  a  letter  firom  a  respectable 
gentleman  formeriy  of  New- York, 
now  residing  in  Lenox,  Berkshire 
County,  Massachusetts,  to  the  editor 
of  the  Masonic  Rcgbtcr,  dated  July 
24,  1821. 

<<  There  b  a  great,  and  very  re- 
markable attention  to  religious  con- 
cerns in  Lenox,  Pittsfield,  and  Stock- 
bridge,  that  bepn  about  the  time  that 
I  arrived  here,  which  for  its  sudden- 
ness, extent,  and  efficacy,  b  almost 
without  a  parallel.  This  b  an  addi- 
tional, and  very  cogent  motive  for  me 
to  tarry  here  still  for  a  time.  It  is  a 
truth,  my  friend,  that  I  enjoy  more 
satbfaedon  than  I  ea0tp(Prp9PJn  be- 


)igitized 


^^5^^" 


472 


UISCBLIANIOUS* 


iog  io  the  midst  of  such  a  scene ;  in 
atteDding  to  religious  meetings,  con- 
ferences, and  private  interviews.  In- 
deed, were  J  solely  to  consult  my  own 
feelings,  I  should  never  perplex  myself 
any  more  with  the  trifles  of  this  worid, 
but  should  devote  the  poor  remains  of 
life  wholly  to  eternal  realities.  They 
are  of  infinite  moment,  and  concern 
every  individual  of  mankind.  But  I 
consider  that  I  have  other  duties  to 
perform,  and  must  intermix  with  the 
afiairs  of  the  world,  as  long  as  I  con- 
tinue in  it.'' 


Fob  thx  Masonic  Rxoistxr. 

THE  MISGUIDED  STEED. 
A  good  while  ago,  perhaps  about 
thirty  years,  a  benighted  traveller  was 
passing  along  a  solitary  footpath,  the 
only  road  then  leading  through  the 
Warwick  mountains.  It  was  on  a 
dark  and  dreary  night ;  and  the  horse- 
man, to  brace  himself  more  firmly  for 
his  joum^,  had  at  the  last  inn  plied 
himself  profiisely  with-  stimulating 
draughts.  By  some  inattention,  the 
aninud  wandered  from  the  proper  path, 
and  turned  up  a  gentle  accUvlty,  whose 
summit,  on  the  one  side,  was  bounded 
by  an  abrupt  ledge — he  moved  along 
for  a  considerable  distance,  parallel 
with  the  border  of  the  precipice,  when 
"  for  something  or  for  nothing,"  wheth- 
er to  show  the  horse  that  he  still  had 
guidance  of  him,  or  whether  from  con- 
fusion, he  pulled  with  uneven  handed 
rein  on  the  pliant  jaws  of  the  beast, 
we  know  not — ^yet  it  is  certain  that  in 
a  fatal  moment,  he  guided  the  head  of 
his  steed  towards  the  dangerous  de- 
clivity— the  keen-sighted  animal,aware 
of  the  destruction  before  him,  resisted 
the  incessant  goadings  of  his  inebriated 
master — but  unconscious  of  the  preci- 
pice that  yawned  at  his  feet,  the  mise- 
rable man  still  pressed 


"  ^— ___^-  his  armed  becli 
''Agfiinst  the  paotiog  sides  of  his  poor  Jade." 

The  beast  continued  immoveable — 
but  at  last,  overcome  by  the  determin- 


ed perseverance  of  his  rider,  he  pliragcd 
lieadlong  down  the  steep !  The  imagK 
nation  of  the  reader  will  complete  the 
gloomy  tale-— —some  little  children 
gathering  berries  near  the  spot,  a  feW^ 
days  afterwards,  discovered  by  Ms 
groans,  the  famishing  horseman,  and 
near  him  was  stretched  lifeless,  the  toe 
obedient,  but misguided  steed  !    . 


To  rum  Eoiroa  or  the  Masomic  Rsots- 

TEE. 

Sir, 

Feeling  an  interest  m  all  that  uulj 
tend  to  promote  .the  welfare  of  my 
country,  and  codduce  toiu  rising  pros- 
perity in  the  arts,  1  cannot  omit  call- 
ing the  attention  of  my  fellow-cltiiens 
to  a  worthy  and  industrious  mhabit- 
ant  of  this  city,  by  the  name  of  Henry 
Reill,  who  has  at  present  brought  the 
manufacturing  of  tobacco,  in  a(l  ita 
various  forms,  to  a  perfection,  I  be- 
lieve, hitherto  unknown  in  th'is  coun- 
try. The  process,  by  which  th'is  per- 
fection has  been  attained,  I  am  entire- 
ly ignorant  of,  but  having  occaslooy 
some  few  days  since,  to  call  at  km 
manufactory.  No.  85  Front-street,  I 
was  astonished  to  find  an  herb,  which 
I  have  been  In  the  habit  of  using  for 
many  years,  managed  with  such  su- 
perior skill.  Fir$ty  as  to  his  chewiag^ 
tobacco,  the  cut  is  as  fine,  if  not  finer, 
than  any  heretofore  manufactured  in 
this,  or  any  other  country  :  and  what 
manifestly  renders  it  more  vahiable, 
than  the  comnum  chewing  tobacco,  it, 
its  being  entirely  free  from  any  cop- 
pery or  oflensive.  taste,  which  in  the 
generality  of  chewing  tobacco,  exco- 
riates and  renders  the  mouth  8ore« — 
His  smoking  tobacco  also  partakes  of 
this  quality.  As  to  Mr.  ReilPs  amiff 
establishment,  I  do  notththk  any  thing 
I  can  say  upon  the  subject,  will  possi- 
bly be  adequate  to  its  merits.  He  has 
that  article  of  his  own  make,  m  the 
greatest  state  of  improvement,  firooa  tbe 
common  and  low-priced,  to  the  most 
choice  and  valuable,  particularly  bis 
sweet-scented  Happte  and  Jfocooioy. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


1 


il  is  not  ny  intentkni  to  depreciate  the 
merits  of  any  of  our  manufacturers  in 
tkis  line  of  business ;  yet  as  I  con- 
ceive the  superiority  of  Mr.  Reill  so 
much  above  the  mstjor  part  of  his  com- 
petitors, I  am  induced  to  request  your 
insertion  of  this  my  approbation,  and 
by  doing  which,  you  will  oblige  a 
friend  to  Domestic  Mamufactc7iix. 
Kifip^s  Bay,  August,  1821. 

Fob  the  Masonic  Rioistik. 

SLANDER. 

He  that  shall  rail  against  kis  absent  friends, 

Or  bears  them  scandalized,  and  not  defends, 

Sports  with  their  fame,  speaks  what  e're  he 

caU) 
And  only  to  be  tboaght  a  wht^  man ; 
Tel(s  tales,  and  brings  his  finenda  in  dis- 

esteem, 
That  man^s  a   knave  be  sure,  beware  of 
him.  CaxscH. 

That  to  gain  a  command  over  the 
tongue  is  an  object  worthy  the  labour 
<>f  every  man,  nobody  will  deny,  when 
we  look  abroad  into  tlfe  world,  and 
consider  (be  imhappineas  and  discords 
which  slander  produces. 

The  learned,  and  illiterate,  the 
Mge,  and  the  clown,  are  sometimes 
alike  Kable  to  nm  into  slight  aberra- 
tions from  the  roles  of  morality,  but 
the  too  great  prevalence  of  detraction  is 
to  be  pitied,  lamented,  and  censured. 
•  For  most  of  the  vices  which  we  are 
prone  to,  charity  will  furnish  some  ex- 
tenuation or  excuse ;  the  weakness  of 
man  will  frequently  predominate,  when 
his  interest^  or  pleasure,  is  concerned : 
but  what  can  be  offered  to  palliate  the 
crime  of  the  man  who  deliberately  en- 
deavours to  blast  the  reputation  of  his 
friend? 

The  character  of  many  an  individi^ 
al  has  been  seriously  injured  by  a  sen- 
tence uttered  in  the  hour  of  jocularity, 
and  the  happiness  of  families  destroy- 
ed by  a  word,  which,  when  spoken, 
was  meant  to  have  no  particular  iai« 
port.  We  should  keep  constant  watch 
over  our  conversation,  as  well  as  our 
actions;  formoch  anxiety  is  frequently 
occasioned  by  an  unguarded  axprea- 


Mm 


lasCXLLANBOUft*  ^IfZ 

.  The  mind  of  that  man  must  be  very 
barren  of  ideas,  if  not  void  of  goodness, 
which  can  furnish  no  odier  theme  to 
discourse  upon,  or  no  other  subject  to 
excite  merriment,  but  the  misconduct 
or  misfortunes  of  his  neighbour,  which 
he  is  oftentimes  tempted  to  aggravate 
by  a  desire  of  displaying  his  wit,  or 
suffers  himself  to  run  into  fabdioodhy 
an  inattention  to  the  tendency  of  Int^ 
discoturse. 

How  unfortunate  it  is  that  we  set 
whole  companies  sit  in  silence  until 
the  fault  of  an  absent  individual  b 
mendoned,  when  at  oQce  all  tongues 
are  unloosed,  and  join  in  the  cry  of 
defamation,  which  is  occasionally  in- 
terrupted by  an  indifferent  exctama* 
tion  of  pity.  If  we  truly  commiserate 
the  person  whose  chiratter  is  assailed, 
why  not  lay  aside  false  modesty,  and 
by  opposing  the  defamer,  endeavour  to 
excuse  the  fault ;  when  at  the  same 
time  we  will  be  showing  an  example 
of  virtue  worthy  of  enjulation,  and  fre- 
quently check  studied  malevolence. — 
It  would  be  better  to  say  nothing  than 
speak  evil,  for  the  bfest  of  men  are 
liable  to  error ;  at  least  we  should  have 
a  care,  whether  the  rules  by  which  we 
are  judging  others  would  not  condemn 
ourselves ;  or,  whether  we  are  not  dai- 
ly guilty  of  similar  crimes  for  which 
we  are  censuring  them ;  for  who  is 
without  foult  ?  ^ 

As  the  tower  on  the  hill,  or  the 
mountain  oak,  is  most  exposed  to  the 
rage  of  the  tempest,  so  is  he  who  has 
raised  himself  by  his  superior  capaci- 
ty, or  indostry  akme — the  common 
level  most  hable  to4ie  attacked  by  ig- 
noranoe  and  slander;  and  the  con* 
duct  of  him  is  frequently  assdled,  who, 
instead  of  censure,  ought  to  receive  the 
benedictioas  of  the  people.  But  let 
no  man's  ambition  for  doing  good  be 
depressed  by  ingratitude  or  neglect ; 
for  the  ei^BMnt  of  a  mind  conscious 
of  having  done  its  duty,  will  be  more 
consoling  than  the  wavering  applause 
of  the  clamorous  nmldtade. 

If  poets  sing  the  praises -of  heroes 
belbre  whose  pcowett  armies  have  fled, 

»  Digitized  by  Google 


m 


nucnuwooi. 


why  should  they  not  bay  the  tribute^ 
of  a  verse  to  the  man  wno  never  spoke 
evil  ?  An  act  of  heroism  may  be  per- 
formed for  the  sake  of  gaining  ap« 
plaose,  but  he  who  refrains  from 
slander  is  actuated  by  a  more  lauda- 
ble motive^  As  our  courage  is  kindled 
by  a  visit  to  the  tomb  of  a  warrior ; 
the  sensibility  of  that  man  is  not  to  be 
envied,  in  whose  breast  feelings  of  re- 
"  spect  and  admiration  would  not  be  ex- 
citedy  over  the  grave  of  the  man  who 
CouJdiridkkii  tongue. 

Omab. 

Fbow  a  LATi  London  Pater. 

THE  HOLY  LAND  IN  1820. 

The  reverend  Mr.  Conner  has  fur> 
Dished  us  with  the  following  curious 
))articularsy  relative  to  the  present 
stateofthe  Holy  Land  atthe  feast  of 
the  pass-over  of  this  year : 
PILGRIMS. 

The  average  number  of  Greek  pil- 
grims is  about  ^fiOO ;  this  year  there 
were  only  1,600.  Of  these  mlgriras 
the  majority  are  native  Oreeks,  who 
apeak  and  read  Romaic  $  the  next  in 
number  are  the  Greeks  from  Asia  Mi- 
nor,  who  speak  and  read  the  Turkish, 
but  in  the  Komaic  character  |  the  third 
class  consists  of  Rossiaas;  and  the 
fourth  andfiAh  of  WaUachians  and  Bul- 
garians; few,  however,  of  these  piih 
grims  can  nead.  The  Armenian  pil- 
oims  amount  this  year  to  about  1,8001 
The  majority  of  them  are  from  Anato- 
lia, and  speak  nothing  but  Turkish. 
Very  few  of  then  can  read.  The 
avierage  nnmber  of  Copt  pilgrims,  is 
about  200.  This  year  on^  150  ar^ 
rived.  Their  appearanee  k  very 
wretched.  The  pibfioM  that  have 
visited  Jerusalem  this  year  nay  be 
thassummedup;  Greeks,  1,600;  Ar- 
menians,  1,800;  Copts,  1^;  Catho- 
lics, 50,  chiefly  ffom  Daaraseos ;  Ab- 
byasiniaas,  1 ;  Syrians  39.-*TotBl, 
9,140. 

JERUSAL^f. 
,    The  streets  of  Jerusalem  were  all 
UfeandbMle.     To  avoid  Hie  oonfe- 


..un,  we  left  the  city  by  the  »(a(^ 
Bethlehem,  and  pastiag  aloi^tbe  oorih 
side,  fell  in  with  the  train  of  pilgrim 
at  the  gate  of  St.  Stephen.    Tbckese 
was  very  lively.    The  path  thrw^li 
which  we  patted,  down  to  MoiSf 
Moriah,  across  the  valley  of  J«»- 
shaphat,  and  up  the  side  of  Oliwt, 
i«lis  lined  with  people  who  came  tjj 
witness  the  procession.    A  Torkw 
band  of  music,  leaving  the  gate  of  St. 
Stephen,  and  accompanied  with  bw- 
ners,  proceeded  with  us  aifarasa 
tree  on  Olivet,  under  whidi  the  fffffx- 
nor  of  Jerusalem,  with  his  cosrtjiws 
seated.     Guns  were  fired  at  iutervals. 
JERICHO. 
After  having  crossed  a  wmber  of 
hSns,  we  descended  into  the  plaia  ol 
Jericho.    In  the  midst  of  this  pto 
appears  a  larg^  verdant  tract,  lywas 
oast  in  the  desert;  and  here emho^ 
in  the  trees,  stands  the  wretched  mW' 
built  village  of  the  ancient  Jerkbe, 
formeriy  celebrated  for  the  nuabcrof 
palm  trees  growing  near  it,  as*  <» 
that    account   called   the  ^City  « 
Palms."    This  city  was  thefitsTM 
Canaan  which  fell  imder  the  pevct  ol 
thelsradites  after  their  entrsaee  «t» 
Che  Land  of  Promise;  and  tbe«a» 
lelidown  before  the  ark  of  the  Cove- 
nant, on  the  first  sound  of  the  tnnB* 
pets  in  the  year  of  the  world  %S^ 
and  before  Jesus  Christ  1,400. 
RIVER  JORDAK. 
About  half  past  three  the  next  nerff- 
ing,  we  all  set  out  by  torch  light  kt 
the  Jordan.    The  appearance  9im 
pilgrims,  raovine  in  numerous  detach- 
ed parties  with  Aeir  flambeaux  serosa 
the  plain,  was  singular  and  strikisg- 
The  Jordan,  at  ^  spot  where  the  pil- 
grims bathed,  is   beautifufly  ip^ 
esque ;  its  breadth  twenty  yards,  w 
it  is  shaded  on  both  sides  by  thetUdc 
ibllage  of  closely  planted  bees.    W 
water  appeared  turbid,  and  was  aot 
deep.     On  retning  from  the  watffi 
the  pilgrims  employed  tfaeraselfCi  0 
cottn^  the  branches  from  theties^]^^ 
carry  home  with  them,  as  niua^y^ 
of  the  Jordta.    They  thennMf^ 

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^5 


beaitSy  and  returtied 
former  station  on  the  plain. 
0EAD  SEA. 
Our  party  set  off  from  the  Jordan 
with  Prince  Avalofir(a  Georgian)  and 
suite,  to  the  Dead  Sea,  where  we  ar- 
rived in  about  two  hours  and  a  half. 
We  rambled  about  for  some  time  on 
the  borders  of  this  lake,  which  covers 
f  he  ashes  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah.    I 
fasted  the  water  and  found  it  excessive 
Ijr  nauseous.  Some  of  the  party  bathed. 
SOLOMON'S  TEMPLE. 
Jerusalem  is  a  considerable  place. 
The  most  beautiful  building  within  its 
walls  is  the  mosque  of  Omar,  which 
stands  on  the  site  of  Solomon's  Tem- 
ple.    The  Turks  have   a  singular 
reverence  for  this  mosque,  and  will 
not  permit  a  Christian  to  set  his  foot  in 
the  large  grassy  area  which  surrounds 
it. 

VALLEY  OF  JEHOSHAPHAT. 
The  walks  which  I  most  frequent 
are  those  that  lead  down  to  the  valley 
of  Jehoshapfaat,  by  the  fountain  of 
Siloah,  or  those  that  run  along  the  side 
ei  Olivet.  From  the  side  of  Olivet 
yea  have  a  very  commanding  view  of 
Jerusalem.  The  mosque  of  Omar  ap- 
pears particularly  fine  from  the  situa- 
tion. The  greater  part  of  the  sui^ 
fomidiag  oouatry  is  most  desolate  and 
ilreary.  Hills  of  white  parched  rock, 
dotted  here  and  there  with  patches  of 
cultivated  land|  every  where  meet  and 
offend  the  eye. 

irrrERESTiNG  confession. 

(COMCLUDKD.) 

The  decree  of  the  church  ordered 
us  to  remove  to  separate  habitations, 
bat  neither  forbade  my  seeing  nor 
conversing  with  my  stepmother,  as  she 
was  now  denominated,  as  often  as  I 
pleased.  All  hope  had  not  yet  vanish- 
ed, of  once  more  changing  oor  destiny 
by  a  new  representation ;  and  as  my 
persuasions  and  arguments  alone  with* 
held  the  wretched  girl  from  adopdi^ 


•own  mitory  fomi  its  onhr  relief  in  her 
society,  now  become  indispensable  to 
my  happiness,  I  was  by  her  side  from 
morning  till  night,  yet  still  guiltless  as 
ever. 

Alas !  a  ncSriibont,  who  was  often 
with  us,  and  who  manifested  real  com- 
passion for  our  sufferings,  had  the  im- 
prudence one  day  to  say  before  us,  that 
were  he  in  my  place,  he  would  not 
scruple  to  pursue  another  course — that 
the  object  of  the  court  was  merely  to 
extort  money  from  us,  and  that  in  his 
opinion,  a  living  proof  of  our  lov^ 
would  procure  a  permission  for  our 
marriage,  sooner  than  all  the  advocates 
in  Germany. 

^Of  what  use  would  it  now  be  to 
me,  worthy  sir,  to  boast  of  forbeaiw 
anoe  which  can  no  longer  gain  me  any 
advantage,  or  avert  ny  fate;  but  mv 
own  heart  tells  me,  tlmt  even  this  aK 
hwing  sophistry  would  have  ^led  to 
work  its  effect, bad  it  not  made  adeep- 
er  effect  on  her  mind  than  on  mine. 
Her  pcrMasions,aifamento,  and  eo* 
treaties,  oBce  more  conquered  my  reso- 
lution ;  and  fondly  cherbhing  the  pleas- 
ing anticipation  of  future  happmess^ 
which  her  ardent  imagination  suggest- 
ed, in  a  fatal  moment  we  followed  hi| 
rash  counsel. 

^  Whilst  inwardly  convinced  of  the 
innocence  and  rectitude  of  our  inten- 
tions, we  indulged  ourselves  in  a  dream 
too  blissfol  to  be  dorable^she  felt  that 
she  was  sooniycely  to  become  a  mother. 
With  a  tender  embrace,  her  eyes  rais- 
ed in  gratitude  towards  Heaven,  she 
colnmontcated  this  intelligenoe  to  me; 
attempted  not  to  conceal  ner  situation 
from  her  friends;  on  the  contrary,  pn>> 
claimed  every  where  that  I  was  the  Ah 
ther ;  that  she  would  never  acknowl- 
edge any  other  for  her  husband  hvi 
me,  and  that  already,  in  the  sight  of 
God,  she  conMered  me  as  such,  trust- 
ing that  the  event  would  facilitate  the 
d^est  wishei  of  her  heart— our  so 
Jong  contracted  union.  In  short,  by 
the  intentional  publicity  we  gave  to  tfaie 

11  affair,  it  quickly  came  to  the  knowl- 
f^  of  the  m^tracv*  wko  once|Mii 

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474 


m^tmLtkunmu 


rtiolv«d  to  iottHerei  and  famnioDed, 
lis  to  appear  before  them.  Neither  of 
ys  hesitated  to  confess  the  whole ;  aod 
the  natural,  though  by  as  unforeseen 
consequence  of  our  avoiral|  was  a  fresh 
iovestigatioiiy  imnoediate  separation 
and  imprisonment,  whkh,  however, 
was,  for  her,  mitigated  to  coofinemeet 
in  her  own  house.  Even  yet  I  believe, 
and  my  friend,  the  advocate  before- 
mentioned,  confinned  me  in  my  opin- 
ion, that  the.  whole  might  at  last  have 
been  happily  brought  to  a  conclusion, 
liad  not  an  unexpected  event  confound- 
ed all  who  were  favourable  to  our 
caiise,.aj|d  plunged  us  in  disgrace  and 

misery. 

-  <<  To  be  brief,  she,  to  whore  confine- 
ment and  separation  from  me  were  in- 
lopportable,  attempting  to  escape,  was 
/letected,  brought  back,  and  notwith- 
standing her  condition,  treated  with 
uihuman  severity.  At  this  news,  my 
former  patient  endurance  ^u  changed 
into  despair  and  madness.  Flight  and 
deliverance  wera^  from  that  moment, 
the  sole  and  anxious  objects  of  my 
ihouffhts ;  and,  in  the  state  of  mind  in 
wfaioi  I  then  was,  I  considered  but  bow 
to  accomplish  the  first,  without  having 
imagined  the  means  by  which  I  could 
efiect  the  second. 

^  I  contrived  to  make  my  eici^  un- 
observed that  very  night;  and  I  was 
already  beyond  the  waUs  of  my  pri- 
son, ere  I  reflected  how  I  could  soc- 
oeed  in  rescuing  her.  and  carrying  her 
off  with  me.  Whitoer  we  should  flee, 
or  how  we  should  live,  seemed  at  that 
moment  trifles,  which  necessity  would 
easily  and  quickly  teach  us.  How  to 
get  her  was  my  only  difficulty.  Were 
I  once  taken,  nothing  could  be  more 
certain  than  that  I  should  be  doaer 
confined  than  before,  and  deprived  of 
«veiy  future  chance  of  escape.  What 
.  was  to  be  done  for  our  preservation 
must  be  quickly  done,  as  I  could  not 
dtaure  myself  that  my  absence  would 
remain  undiscovered  another  hour. — 
Whilst  a  thoBsand  plans,  no  sooner 
formed  than  rejected,  rushed  across 
my  mind^  the  idea  presented  itself  of 


setting  fire  to  the  howe,  or  ladie* 
wooden  hovel  in  which  she  was  coofin* 
ed)  and,  amidst  the  alarm  and  conCn- 
sion  this  would  occasion,  to  force  mj 
way  to  her,  bear  her  through  the  flames, 
support  her  in  our  flight,  whilst  my 
strength  sufficed,  and  to  trust  to  circtun- 
stances  for  the  rest.  This  project  was* 
no  sooner  conceived  than  executed  :  a 
neighbouring  lamp  afibrded  me  firep 
and  the  dry  wooden  work  of  the  hoose 
soon  burst  into  a  flame.  I  was,  unr^ 
cognized,  among  the  first  to  give  the 
alarm,  rushed  safely  through  the  flames, 
and  bore  her,  half  dead  with  surprise, 
beyond  the  city  gates.  But  alas,  how 
seldom  does  our  strength  second  our 
will!  The  exertions  I  had  abeady 
inade,  the  weight  of  my  belovci  bur- 
den, the  length  of  tHe  way,  and  my 
own  bodily  weakness  from  long  con« 
finement,  overcame  me  about  a  mile 
from  the  gates  of  the  town,  and  I  sunk 
senseless  upon  the  ground,  exhausted 
by  fatigue  and  loss  of  blood  from  a 
wound  I  had  received  in  my  neck  di>- 
ring  the  fire.  My  unhappy  partner 
attempted  to  support  me,  but  in  vain ; 
her  weakness  required  assistance  for 
herself.  Besides,  we  w^  already 
missed,  our  pursuers  arrived,  secured 
us,  itnd  once  more  dragged  us  to  onr 
prisons. 

<<I  was  now,  as  I  had  foreseen,  and 
dreaded,  more  closely  confined  than 
before,  and  my  death  unavoidable; 
but  even  this  reflection  strengthened 
my  desperate  resolution,  once  more  to 
dare  all  hazards,  to  succeed  or  perish. 
My  jailer  belonged  to  that  class  of 
rough  hardened  wretches,  in  whose 
breast  every  feeling  of  humanity  seema 
totally  extinct.  One  day  I  sorprised 
him  asleep.  Despahrgave  me  strength; 
I  found  means  to  get  rid  of  m?  chuns, 
stole  the  key  out  of  his  pocket,  and 
was  already  half  out  of  the  door,  when 
he  awoke,  and  sprang  furiously  after 
me.  I  was  the  younger,  and,  in  the 
scuffle  which  envied,  proved  likewise 
the  stronger.  I  grappled  with  him, 
and,  seisdng  him  by  the  throat,  fast- 
ened him  with  so  firm  a  grasp  to 

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the  vail,  as  to  render  it  impossible,  for 
him  to  cry  out  for  assistance.  I  then 
demanded  of  him  to  swear  not  to  be- 
tray ray  escape,  but  instead  of  reply- 
ing, the  wretch,  un perceived  by  me, 
diew  a  knife  from  his  pocket,  with  wfakh 
be  attempted  to  stab  me  in  the  back.  I 
lx)wever  wrested  it  from  him;  and  as 
I  clearly  perceived^  that  if  he  lived,  all 
chance  of  savitig  my  own  life  was  lost, 
I  buried  it  twice  in  his  throat,  left  him 
dying  on  the  ground,  and  fled.  Again 
I  reached  her  I  adored  in  safety ;  for 
she  was,  I  well  knew,  on  account  of 
her  dangerous  state,  allowed  to  be  at 
liberty  on  bail ;  and  once  more  we  re- 
soll^  to  fly  together.  But  the  retri- 
butive arm  of  the  avenger  of  blood 
was  close  behind  me ;  we  were  pur- 
sued, retaken,  and  now,  within  a  few 
days,  an  ignominious  and  inevitable 
death  awaits  me.  Oh,  how-welcome  to 
roe  is  its  approach !  Is  it  possible,  • 
think  you,  I  can  regret  to  leave  a  world, 
vhich  has  branded  my  name  with  infa- 
my, and  heaped  upon  my  soul  an  accu- 
mulated mass  of  the  deepest  and  most 
irremediable  misery?'* 

Here  the  unfortunate  man  conclu- 
ded his  history,  and  heroically  has  kept 
his  promise  of  patiently,  yet  firmly 
submitting  to  his  fate.  Oh !  I  could 
tell  you  much  of  his  courage  in 
the  last  awful  hour;  of  his  heart- 
rending interview  with  his  miser- 
ible  wife;  of  his  repentance,  piety, 
and  holy  confidence  of  pardon;  but 
you  must  forgive  me,  if  I  break  ofi* 
this  long  letter  abruptly.  This  poor 
youth  has  become  so  dear  to  me,  that 
I  cannot  think  of  him  without  tears ; 
uid  if  yours  have  not  already  fallen 
over  his  melancholy  history,  the  blame 
nmst  lie  upon  the  unskilfulness  of  my 
description,  which  may  have  weaken- 
^  the  interest  and  compassion  his  un- 
happy fate  would  otherwise  have  ex- 


MALE  COQUETRY. 
Ike  two  foUowing  articles  were  laid 
^^  tome  Bombers  since ;  but  an  eveat 


msoiiiUiixoai.  4^ 

has  lately  oeeunred  in  this  city,  that  ren- 
ders their  present  pQblication  eiceedingly 
well  timed.  A  penurious  old  batchelor,  in 
afflaent  circumstances,  who  for  many  years 
had  been  very  assiduous  in  his  attentions 
to  an  amiable  girl,  suddenly,  withoot  any 
cause,  left  her,  and  after  a  short  courtship, 
married  another  lady.  The  honey-moon 
was  passed  at  the  Springs';  bat  on  their 
re  torn,  he  was  met  in  Broadway  by.  the 
indignant  brother  of  the  girl,  who,  with 
an  onfiiendly  cowskin,  inflicted  a  very  se- 
vere, but  oertatnly  well-merited  chastise- 
ment on  the  fickle  lover.  We  eiceedingly 
regret  the  occurrence  of  such  instances  of 
violence  in  our  public  streets,  but  we  re- 
gret still  more  that  a  necessity  should  exist 
for  such  examples  of  salutary  correction ; 
and  we  trost  that  the  application  of  this 
practical  reproof  will  be  attended  with  a 
beneficial  result  to  the  community  at  large. 

From  the  Glasgow  Chronicle.  . 

THE  REMONSTRANCE— Cam;»6e//. 

<<  Hope  deferr'd  maketh  the  heart  sick.'* 

"  Whoever  reads  the  following  pathetic 
lines,  will  recall  to  his  mind  the  fate  of 
Miss  Johnson  nnd  Miss  Vanhomrig,  the 
Stella  and  Venessa  of  the  cold-blooded 
Swift.  Their  story  is  well  told  by  Scott, 
in  his  life  of  Swift,  and  is  most  eloquently 
commented  on,  in  the  Edinburgh  Review 
of  that  article.  Both  these  interesting  wo- 
men died  prematurely  and  broken-heart ed, 
and  were  as  effectually  murdered  by  Swift, 
as  if  he  had  poisoned  them.  Hb  conduct 
was  altogether  indefensible.  His  own  re- 
peated testimony  had  established  their  re- 
putation for  sense  and  virtue,  and  for  all 
those  amiable  qualities  that  were  calculated 
to  ensure  their  happiness  in  married  life. 
Yet,  both  of  them  were  suffered  to  linger 
and  to  expire  under  the  weight  of  misery 
which  Campbell  so  exqolsitely  describes, 
and,  compared  to  which,  no  '*  corporal  suf- 
ferance" ought  to  be  called  **  a  pang."  If 
that  hateful  animal,  a  male  coquet,  can  be 
made  to  feel,  let  him  do  so  while  he  con- 
temjslates  the  misery  that  such  as  himself 
can  inflict.  An  artful  woman  may,  indeed, 
assume  the  appearance  of  grief,  arising  from 
unre(^uited  love,  and  for  a  time  deceive  the 
affection,  blind  the  penetration,  and  mit- 
^lead  the  sympathy  of  those  around  her. 
But  she  b  soon  detected ;  new  objects,  and 
a  short  absence,  quickly  heal  the  wouods 
of  vanity,  and  the  mortification  arising 
from  batfled  artifice.  Campbell  dues  not 
allude  to  such  as  these. 


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4^8-  MlfOCUJklfSOtff. 

Nerer  wedcBiig)  ef%r  woo!o;,     • 
0dll  ft  lorelorn  heftrt  pwMinf , 
Btftd  yott  aottbe  wronp  ycm'rt  doing 

In  mv  cheek's  pale  nue, 
AH  my  liie  with  sorrow  strewing  ? — 

Wed— or  cease  to  woo ! 

Rivftls  banish'd,  promise  plighted. 
Still  our  days  are  disunited. 
If ow  the  lamp  of  love  is  fignted, 

Now  half  qoenoh'd  amieart, 
Damp*d|  and  wavering,  and  benighted, 

'Midst  my  sighs  and  tears. 

Charms,  yon  call  your  deftrest  MeMbig, 
Lips,  that  thrUI  at  yoor  earessing, 
Kyes,  a  mntod  soul  confessing, 

Soon  you'll  make  them  |row 
Dim,  unworthy  your  possessmg, 

Not  with  age,  but  wo. 


Fr9m  a  ntw  v^kmt  of  ^^Ptmty  byOn^of 
a  FamUjf  CirtU:* 

the  motto  of  the  following  poem  \9*^8i 
deurit  perca:*  The  desertption  which 
it  contains  of  a  younr  woman,  who  is 
supposed  to  have  died  broken-hearted,  is 
touched  in  many  parts  with  uncommon 
tenderness.— Bm.  Crii.fmrDu. 

He  seam'd  to  love  lier, .  and  her  youthful 
cheek 
Wore  for  a  while  the  transient  bloom  of 
joy  9 
And  her  heart  throbb'd  with  hopes  she 
could  not  speak, 
New  to  deUght,  and  new  to  ecstacy. 
He  won  that  heart  in  its  simplicity, 

All  undisguis'd  in  its  young  tendemeis  -, 
And,  smiling,  saw  that  he,  and  only  he, 
Had  power  at  once  'to  wound  U  or  to 
bless. 

She  gave  to  him  her  Innocent  affection, 
And  the  warm  feelings  of  her  gnUelesa 
breast; 
And  from  the  stoms  of  life  she  sou^  pfo- 
tection. 
In  his  dear  love,  her  home  of  earthly 
rest, 
fii  this  sweet  trust,  her  opening  days  were 
blest. 
And  joyously  shehafl'd  her  coming  yeun ; 
For  well  she  knew  that  even  If  distrest. 
There  would  be  one  kind  hand  to  ory 
her  tears.   - 

He  left  her— «nd  in  trooble  she  awoke 
.  From  her  yoong  dream  of  Uiss ;  b«t 
^  murmured  not 

Over  her  sflent  iUiEBrings,  nor  ipokn 

To  any  one  upon  her  cruel  lot. 
Tm  wo^  kav«  deea*d  that  Ik  Mbten 

fOf|0t, 


Or  thought  her  bosom  cattona  ttt  tlM 

stroke; 
Bat  in  her  cheek  there  wasone  hectic  spot, 
Twas  liule— but  it  told  her  heart  was 

broke. 

And  dteperand  more  deep  the  painfid  insk 
Daily  became;  yet  all  distress  secm'd 
o'er, 
Save  when  the  life  blood  gave  a  mMn 
rush, 
Then  trembled  into  sileuce  as  before. 
At  once  too  proud,  too  humble  to  deplore, 
She  bow'd  her  need  in  quietness ;  dM 
knew 
Her  blighted  prospects  conld  revive  no 
more; 
Yet  was  she  calm,  for  she  had  Heaven  in 
view. 

She  lov'd,  and  she  forgave  him — aA  io 


She  ask'd  a  blessing  on  his  fiiture  yean ; 
And  so  she  went  to  sleep ;  meekly  raying 

Upon  that  Power  which  shall  efface  aU 
tears. 
Her  simple  tmf  the  young  spring  iow'ret 


And  the  pale  primrose  grows  upon  her 

tomb; 
And  when  the  storm  its  simple  blossom 

tears. 
It  bows  its  bead— «n  emUeoi  of  h« 

doom! 


CORPORATION  OF  N£W-TORK^ 


The  foOowIng  satirical  eAnioB  i 
in  the  early  part  of  the  present  year,  la 
some  of  our  daily  Journals ;  and  we  now 
insert  It  in  our  proper  department,  not 
more  for  the  puipose  of  tettUylBg  oar 
nnqnalilled  approbation  of  Hs  sentimenlSi 
than  with  the  view  of  preserving  a  pio* 
dnctlon  so  creditable  to  the  poetieal  cha- 
racter of  our  country.  It  b  understood  to 
be  from  the  pen  of  the  author  of  FAnr, 
nnd  (many)  of  the  CnoAXxna— worfcr 
which  have  most  folly  eontradieted  tha 
gloomy  and  unpatriotic  assertion  of  a 
(Philadelphia)  riiyming  Quaker,  tet  lUr 
bthe  land 

«  Where  Fancy  itokant,  and  where  OenSa* 
dies." 

In  Jnitlce  to  the  hoMnmbiB  body  whose 
pr«eeedingB  are  here  held  op  to  ftftoofe. 
we  must  add,  that  we  have  been  assured  by 
•worthy  aUemttt^thtt  ao  mndiiif  th^nr- 

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UtAe  as  rektesto  the  teking  of  the  money 
from  the  treasuiy,  had  no  other  founda- 
tion than  in  the  f^ncy  of  the  poet. 

ExtrmUfnm  the  MimUet  of  the  Cowunan 
CouncU^  Dec.  26,  1820. 

**  Besolved,  thatthb  Board  will  visit  the 
Acmdeny  of  Arts,  for  the  purpose  of  view- 
ing a  paintine  now  exhibiting  there,  from 
the  DCttcil  ot  Mr.  Rembrandt  Peale,  and 
that  it  be  recommended  to  oar  fellow-citi- 
sens  generally  to  go  also." 

When  the  wild  waters  from  the  deluged 

earth 
Retir'd — and  nature  woke  to  second  birth, 
And  tlie  flrst  rainbow  met  the  patriarch's 

nuse. 
In  t^  bine  west — a  pledge  of  better  days ; 
What  crowded  feelings  of  delicht  were  his 
In  that  bright  hour  ofhope  and  lianpiness ! 
What  tears  of  rapture  glistened  in  nis  eye ! 
His  early  grie&  forgotp— his  life's  long  agony. 

So  did  the  heart  of  Mr.  Rembrandt  Peale. 
Ihe    "Moral  picture  painter,*'  beat  and 

feel. 
When  by  the  Mayor  and  Aldermen  was 

pass'd 
That  vote  which  made  hb  talent  known  at 

last, 
And  those  wise  arbiters  of  taste  and  fame 
Pronounced  him  worthy  of  his  Christian 


t«ong  did  he  linger  anxiously,  in  vain, 
Beside  his  painting,  in  the  classic  fane 
Qf  S€ienee-^(Where,  amnged  by  Send- 

der's  iiand 
The  cnrioelties  of  every  land, 
From  Babel's  Brickbats,  and  the  Cashmere 

CkMit, 
Down  to  the  famous  Knickeiboeker  boat, 
Anplanse  and  wonder  from  the  ganer  seek. 
Aided  by  martial  music  once  a  week ;) 
Long  did  he  linger  there,  and  but  a  few 
Odd  sbnUngs,  his  »  Qreat  Moral  Pidure'' 

drew. 

In  vain  (he  nev^spapers  its  beauties  told. 
In  vain  they  swore  twas  worth  its  weight 

in^ld. 
In  vain  invok'd  eaeh  patriotic  spirit. 
And  talk'd  of  native  genius,  power  and  me- 

la  vain  the  artist  threatened  to  lay  by 
His  innate  hope  of  immortality, 
Grow  rich  by  paintinc  merely  human  faces, 
'^longer  stay  and  turve  in  publie  places ; 
All  would  not  do..»4ia  woik  remained  on* 


Taste,  Beauty,  Fashion,  talk'd  oiMr.  Keen; 
But  of  the  «  Moral  Picture"  not  a  word 
From  ii|^  of  WMM»  or  «r  man  was  heard. 


MlfCBULAKKOOS^  4^j^ 

The  seeae  has  changed,  thanka  to  the  Cor^ 

poration, 
And  Peale  has  now  a  city's  approbation ; 
**  Resolved,"  the  Council  Records  say,  "that 

we 
«Untie  the  purse-strings  ol the  Treasmy, 
*<  Take  out  just  five  and  twenty  cents  ahead, 
*<  And  by  the  Mayor  ih  grave  procession 

led, 
"  Visit  the  Academy  of  Arti--«nd  then, 
«  Preceded  by  the  Mayor,  walk  backagain.'' 

HMe  your  diminished  heads,  ye  sage  Re* 

viewers ! 
Thank  Heaven,  tl\e  day  is  o'er  with  you, 

and  yours. 
No  longer  at  your  shrines  will  Genius  bow. 
For  Mayors  and  Aldermen  are  critics  now. 
Alike  to  them  (the  Crightons  of  their  age) 
The  painter's  canvass  and  the  poet's  page» 
From  high  to  low,  from  law  to  verse  they 

stoop. 
Judges  of  Sessions,  Science,  Arts  and  Soup. 

Thne  was— when  Dr.  Mitqhill's  word  was 

law, 
When  Monkeys,  Monsters,  Whales,  and 

Esquimaux, 
Asked  but  a  letter  from  his  i^dy  hand, 
To  be  the  theme  and  wonder  of  the  land. 
That  time  is  oast— henceforth  each  show- 
man's doom 
Muff  be  decided  in  the  Council  Room, 
^d  there  the  city's  guardians  will  deerae 
An  artist's  or  an  author's  destiny  ', 
Pronounce  the  fate  of  poem,  song,  or  son- 
net. 
And  shape  the  fashion  of  a  Ia4y*s  bonnet, 
Gravely  determine  when,  and  how,  and 

where 
Bristed  shall  write,  or  Saunders  shall  cut 

hair. 
Till  even  the  very  buttons  of  a  coat 
Be  settled  like  assessment  laws — by  vote  ^ 
LARUS. 

From  the  Conneciicui  Courier. 
DIED, 
At  Redding,  on  Sunday  evening,  July  22i^ 
at  half  past  10  o'clock,  Osorgb  Hmry 
Merchaht,  aged  4  years  and  10  days,  se- 
cond and  only  son  of  Aaron  M.  Merchant, 
of  the  city  of  New-York. 

Dear  innocent !  and  hast  thou  left  us  f 
U$,  thy  doating  parents,  who  »o  oti 
Have  blest  the  dxy  which  gave  thee  to  us ; 
Who  so  oft  have  watch'd  with  eager  eye 
Thy  stinted  form,  and  maik'd  wi9i  inward 

dread 
The  paleness  on  thy  cheek !  who  so  oft. 
When  thou  wert  WMOstarb'd  by  nought  but 

health,  * 

Have  fondly  listeB'd  to  thhie  infant  talis  J 
Of  gladness. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


480 


MTftcnsLLANEOUS. 


Alas !  thy  race  b  ran  ! 
Too  good  wert  thou  in  this  vile  world  to 

stay, 
Where  nought  but  sin  and  sorrow  rdgn 

triumphant, 
And  bending  x\fy  course  towards  the  man- 
sions 
Of  eternal  rest,  with  humble  patience 
The  'pangs  of  pain  endured,  till  Death 
With  Icy  grasp,  had  caught  thee  in  hii 

arms; 
Then,  with  ghastly  look  exclalm'd,  *^  I  am 

going,'* 
And  sud4«niy  thy  spirit  sped  its  flight 
To  the  abodes  ot  eudl^ss  peace. 


THE  MORNING  OF  LIFE.     . 

The  following  beautiful  verses  in  the 
style  of  Woodworth's  celebrated  "  Iron- 
bound  Bucket,*"  were  written  by  Mr.  Sam- 
uel Stillwell,  author 'of  <*  Historical 
fiketches  of  tha  Rise  and  Progress  of  the 
Methodist  Society,  In  tlie  city  of  New- 
York,"  and  are  copied  from  the  Introduc- 
tory remarks  of  that  work.  They  will  be 
read  with  much  pleasure  by  all  who  take 
delight  la  reviewing  the  soenes  of*tiMir 
Juvenile  days.  * 

How  often  I  think  on  the  scenes  of  my 
childhood, 
The  meadows  and  fields  where  the  wild 
flowers  grew ; 
The  orchards,  the  pond,  the  glade,  and  the 
'  wildwood,- 

And  the  social  delights  that  my  infancy 
"knew. 

The  dew-spangled  lawn,    and  the  green 
grassy  meadow,  . 
The  copse    where  the    birds   warbled 
sweetly  their  lay; 
Where  oft  in    the  wide-spreading  trees' 
ample  shadow 
We  felt  the  sea  breeee  in  the  heat  of  the 
day. 

I  remember  the  road,  with  its  winding  and 
turning, 
The  green  living  hedgerow  thaf  skirted 
the  way ; 
The  field  it  enclosed  where  the  brick-kibi 
was  burning, 
And  the  pits  where  they  dog  up  the 
*  smooth  yellow  clay. 

Aad  I  have  not  f<«got  when  a  storm  was 
a  coming, 
The  hoarse  rumbUog  noil e  of  the  wm?C0 
of  the  sea; 


The  old  hoQow  log  where  the  partridgt 
waadrummingY 
And  the  woodpecker  pecking  the  hollow 
oak-tree. 

I  remember  the  old-faahion*d  mansion  we 
liv*d  in. 
With  the  bay  and  the  beach,  and  the 
ocean  In  view ; 
The  swamp  and  the  brake  where  tbe  sing- 
ing Dirds  built  In, 
And  the  trees  by  the  lane  where  the 
thorn-apples  grew. 

In  that  old-fashion *d  house  in  this  lov'd 
situlition. 
With  small  panes  of  glass,  and  the  clealk 
oaken-floors ; 
Content  was  our  lot,  and  no  fear  of  inva- 
sion, 
Not  a  bar, '  nor  a  look,  nor  a  bolt  tg  the 
doors. 

But  what  was  the  cause  of  that  tranquH  ca- 
joyment  ? 
.  Not  the  house,  nor  the  fields,  nor  the 

prospects  so  rare ; 
Not  the  orchards,  nor  jxind,  nor  the  nirai 
enipVoyment, 
But  tbe  dearly  lov'd  friends  of  my  bo- 
som were  there. . 

And  the  day  that  we  parted,  tbe  heart* 
rending  anguish 
No  pen  can  describe,  neither  pencil  por^ 

tray;     . 

To  me  all  the'  beauties  arotmd  seem*d  to 
languish. 
And  all  the  gay  scenes  quickly  faded 
away. 

Tkoae  transient  enjoymenta  bow  lair  and 
liow  fickle, 
They  spring  up  and^bloom'like  tbeilow- 
ers  in  May; 
But  trouble  and  care  thrust  in  tbe  shaip 
ttCkle) 
They're  o«t  down,  and  wither,  aad^le 
in  a  day. 

But  the  joys  pf  the  faithful  are  ever  b- 
dressing,  • 
Their  source  Is  celestial,  their  Aathor 
divine ; 
In  the  truth  they  rejoice,  and  their  pros- 
pects are  pleasine. 
In  glory  and  beauty  tor  ever  to  shine. 

,  HAUH. 

Let  not  thy  conduct  be  a  reproach 
to  thy  precepts ;  lest  thy  daughters  cfis- 
r^ardthee,  and  say,  thou  teachest 
others,  but  teachest  not  thyself. 

BOLMORE,  PRINTEB^ 
70  90WSBX> 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


TH£ 


AMERICAN  MASONIC  REGISTER, 

AND 

Ladies'  and  Gentlemen's  Magazine. 


BY  LUTHER  PRATT. 


Hftmore  not  the  old  uumsARXt  and  ent«r  not  into  the  fieUi  oftbe 
(atheiicBt. 

SOLOHOV. 

[No.  I.]       FOR  SEPTExMBER,  A.  D.  1821.  A.  L.  5821.       [Vol.  II.] 


MASONIC* 


Fob  thb  MAiomc  Riatsrxik. 

CkeUnlU,  Jwu  27,  a.  l.  6821. 
The  anderaigned,  in  behalf  of  the  mem- 
ben  of  PickawajT  Lodge  No.  23,  retnm 
their  sincere  tliankt  to  brother  Caleb  At« 
water,  for  the  very  excellent  Oration  de- 
livered before  them,  on  the  25th  inst }  and 
request  of  him  a  oopy  of  the  same  for  pah- 
IScation. 

E.  WSBB, 

R.  K.  FoRBSMAf,  >  CemmiO€€, 

H.  Saos. 


•■1 


CMwiOe,  (0.)  Jwu  27,  a.  l.  6821. 

OsiTTLXHSff, 

In  reply  to  your  note  of  this  mornings 
in  behalf  of  the  brethren  oC  Pickaway 
Lodge  No.  23,  reqaesting  a  oopy  of  my 
«<  Oration  delivered  on  the  26lh  inst.,'*  on 
the  Festival  of  9t.  John  the  Baptist,  per- 
mit me  to  fetmm  my  grateful  and  sin- 
cere thanlcs  to  you,  and  through  yon,  to 
the  worshipful  master,  wardens,  and  breth- 
ten  of  said  lodge,  for  the  flattering  marks 
•f  fraternal  affection,  manifested  in  the 
too  favoarable  opinion,  which  you  have 
been  pleased  to  express  of  my  address.  I 
■egret  that  n^  peribrmance  was  not  more 
worthy  of  yow  regard,    fiut,  in  eitiaatiag 

vol*,  w  I 


my  labours,  on  this  and  all  othec  occaskMM^ 
1  hope  and  trust,  that  the  fkateinily  wUl 
impute  any  errors  which  they  may  detect, 
to  the  head,  and  not  to  faie  heart. 

Throwing  myself  upon  the  candoor  of 
my  friends,  and  the  chanty  of  my  breth-. 
ren,I  now  deliver  into  your  hands  a  copy 
of  my  address,  for  publicatioft. 

With  gratitude,  Mieem,  and  firatenml 
afiection,  1  am,  brethren,  yours  traly, 

CALEB  ^TWATER. 
Brothers 

£  Webbi  )   Committee  of 

R,  K.  Fareimanf  >  Pickaway  Lodge 
H.  Sagt.  )        No.  23. 

•  •  _ 

*"  *  AN  ADDRESS, 

Delivered  on  the  26th  June,  a.  l.  5621, 
before  Pickaway  Lodge  No.  23,  at  Cir« 
cleville,  Ohio ;  it  being  the  Festival  oT 
St.  John  the  Baptist:  By  brother  CALsm 
Atwatxr,  a  member  of  saidlodge« 

Wonhipfvl  MasUr^ 

WarBent,  and  Brtthrenf, 
On  a  dajy  dedicated  to  the  reeol^ 
lection  of  departed  worth,  I  rise  to 
addiess  you.  I  thali  not  uodertakOf 
to  throve  to  yoa  the  purity  of  oor  prin* 
ciples,  their  importance,  and  usefoU 
ness  in  the  world,  because,  oa  this 
subject,  I  am  aware  that  nothing  is 
needed  in  aid  of  your  own,  aolcBUv 

Digitized  by  VjOOQiC 


MA90KIC. 


convictions.  Ndttier  shall  I  under- 
take to  answer  objections  made  to  our. 
order,  by  ignorance,  bigotry,  envy, 
and  malice.  The  candid  inquirer  af- 
ter tnith,  will  find  more  infbrmfttion 
concerning  freemasonry,  than  I  have 
now  time  to  furnish,  in  the  writings  of 
Preston,  Harris,  Webb,  and  Cross. 
To  these  authors^  and  to  the  book  of 
constitutions,  I  most  refer  those,  who, 
without  initiation  into  our  sublipae 
mysteries,  wish  to  become  acquainted 
with  the  principles  of  freemasonry. 
Nor  shall  I  undertake  to  furnish  you, 
with  a  history  of  an  order,* which  has 
existed  through  all  ages  of  the  world, 
and  in  every  country  where  the  arts 
and  sciences  have  been  nursed.*  Ad- 
dressing myself  to  persons,  standing 
in  the  centre  of  an  ancient,  open  tem- 
ple, erected  by  a  people  evidently  ac- 
quainted with  astronomy,  trigonome- 
try and  many  of  the  arts  and  sciences, 
need  I  Uttempt  tP  prove  to  you,  the 
great  antiquity  of  freemasonry  ?  The 
circles  and  squares,  triangles,  and  other 
mathematical  figures,  so  often  found 
among  the  works  of  that  people,  who 
raised  in  the  early  ages  of  mankind, 
the  open  lodge,  whose  walb  now  sur- 
round us,  demonstrate  that  their  au- 
thors were  acquainted  with  the  <<  roy- 
al art."  Works  like  these,  are  uni« 
formly  situated  either  on  the  highcMt 
MlUy  or  in  the  lowest  vales.  Where 
we  find  square  lodges,  aifr^hev  not 
situated  due  east  and  west*  Behold 
this  circular,  and  that  square  work  i 
Here,  at  the  centre,  once  stood  a  fune- 
ral pyre :  is  it  not  now  represent^ 
on  our  carpets  by  the  Wazmg  star? 
This  funeral  pyre,  used  also  as  an  al- 
tar, had  a  semicircular.  Mosaic  pave- 
ment on  the  east  side  of  it,  the  remains 

*  See  Archeologia  AmerictDa,  artiele 
Circleville,  where  the  antiquitieB  of  Che 
place  are  described. 

The  court  hotne,  where  this  addi^n  was 
delivered,  is  at  the  teutre  of  a  roond  work. 
Adjoining  this  round  work,  on  the  eastern 
side,  b  a  square  work.  It  is  impfissible  to 
convey  an  idea  of  these  works  without 
5  plate,  which  Is  in  the  book  above  re- 
lanM  to. 


of  which,  sen  still  visiUe.  See,  abo, 
in  the  walb  which  suiro'jnd  us,  ike  tW9^ 
parallel  HoeSj  on  the  vertex  of  whkkf 
rests  the  square  work,  in  the  east! 
Havi  we  not  pervert^  the  aoeieU 
simplicity  of  the  era  A,  in  cor  tradi- 
tions, in  some  cases,  referring  to  thui|s 
comparatively  recent,  instead  of  trav- 
elling back  to  the  earliest  ages  <^  inaih 
kind,  when  our  brethren  worshipped 
i^B  open  lodges  ?  AsseiUbled  then,  at 
the  centre  of  an  anciear  lodge,  erected 
by  our  ancient  bfethi^en,  in  the  earli- 
est ages  of  the  world,  whose  only 
covering  was  the  cloudy  ctmopy,  or 
starry  heavens^  are  you  sorpriaed  thkt 
freemasonry  dates  its  migin  from  a 
high  ardiquity  ? 

With  such  pn>ofs  of  the  anliqintj 
of  our  order,  constantly  before  our 
eyes,  for  additional  ones,  need  we  tra- 
vel to  Egypt,  to  Tyre,  to  Jerusalem  ? 
Areodr  proofs  less  ancient  than  tbetn^ 
or  less  conclusive  ?  The  very  reverse 
isthereallact  Our  proefe,  bow  am- 
ple, yet  how  sublime  I  Through  what 
a  long  lapse  of  time  have  they  with- 
stood his  dilapidating  hand  1  How 
venerable  appear  they,  in  their  decay  I 
How  afflicting  the  idea,  that  they  inii 
soon  disappear  before  us,  so  that  not 
even  a  trace  shall  tell  where  they  oooe 
were !  The  working  tools  of  the  ciail 
are  often  found  in  them;  several  df 
which  I  have  seen,  and  aaa  entertaio 
no  doubt  as  to  theur  authors,  nor  of 
the  uses  to  which  they  were  pot.  AB 
I  can  do,  is  to  call  your  attentioo  to  • 
subject,  which  has  occupied  my  nuiii 
for  some  time  past,  assuring  the  fia- 
TK&NiTY,  that,  should  they  denrnod  it» 
a  memoir  on  this  subject,  will|  in  dne 
time,  be  laid  before  them. 

My  Brethreo-^-tUs  day  k  dedicated 
to  departed,  worthy  masoM.  Inevay 
age,  in  every  country,  maakiiKl  havtt 
observed  stated  anniversarka.  BefoiS 
a  kifowledge  of  letters  became  gen^ 
ral  among  m^  this  custom  was  ii»* 
cessary,  in  order  to  preserva  tk^  i^ 
collection  of  important  eveota  in  the- 
history  of  nations.    But,  thoQgli  the 


I  of  tht  art  of  prtatiiig,  if  widely 
^tiffvmdf  yety  fro^  the  very  coostku- 
turn  of  the  hnmaii  miiid,  the  obsenr* 
«KC  of  stated  aonivenaries  is  almost 
as  necessary  aow,  as  it  was  formerly. 
Need  we  not  to  be  reminded  of  duties 
to  be  perfonaedy  of  priadples  to  be 
vegapded,  of  vices  to  t>e  shmined! 
This  festival  is  kept  by  ns^  in  honour 
of  a  great  patron  (mT  freemasonry,  Sl 
Jolm  the  Baptist.  He  was  the  im-  | 
mediate  ibreniaBer  of  Jesus  Christ. 
Thoagb  <<  he  was  not  the  true  light, 
dMt  Hghieth  erery  man  that  cometh 
into  tlMB  world,  yd  he  came  to  bear 
witness  of  flMt  li^ ;"  to  point  out  to 
h»  eooDtrymen,  Jesus,  as  the  Saviour 
aC  the  worid,  and  as  a  herald  to  pro* 
.daim  his  near  approach.  A  great 
INTophet,  he  foretdid  the  coming  of  the 
Mewtki  a  great  reformer  of  man- 
kind; be  called  oa  them  to  repeat 
srad  be  baptised. 

Austere  and  exemplary,  his  food 
was  locusts  aad  wild  honey;  bis  bed 
was  the  earth,  bis  covering  the  cloudy 
oanopy  of  heaven,  his  dris^  the  limpid 
fUl,  ius  clothing  saclccloth,  bis  usual 
ab(Hl«  amidst  the  shady  bowers  wf^ 
iEnoa's  bill,  his  company  tb^  thou- 
Minds  who  followed  him,  to  hear  his 
doq«ient  discourses ;  nightly,  his  medi- 
tations were  on  heaven  and  heavenly 
ihinp ;  daily,  liis  discourses  pointed 
out  to  man  his  duty  to  himself,  his 
iwigbbour,  and  his  God.  His  seal, 
liis  temperance,  bis  truth,  his  justice, 
Ills  courage,  his  fortitude,  his  fidelity, 
Ills  love  to  God,  and  man,  deserve  our 
feverence;  our  admiration,  gratitude, 
and  esteem.  Undaunted  by  the  terrors 
with  which  he  was  surrounded ;  un- 
awed  by  the  difficuhies  with  wb'^h  he 
was  compelled  to  encounter;  unappal- 
M  by  the  dangers  which  threatened 
ttis  roin,  he  moved  on  in  his  coqrse, 
dis^jensing  light  to  the  spiritually  bHnd, 
Mfe  to  those  who  were  dead  hi  sin. 

If  the  vassals  of  despots  celebrate 
(he  birtb-day  of  a  tyrant's  babe,  sure- 
ly we  oughrnot  to  be  condemned  for 
aietting  apart  a  day  in  honour  of  so 
^(KAt  a  ttma,  so  great  a  prophet^  so 


sttccfissM  a  praacber  of  repentance, 
so  great  a  masou,  a  saint  so  emi- 
nent. Virtues  so  scarce^  so  exem- 
plary, so  honourable  te  himself,  so 
useful  to  mankind,  so  acceptable  to 
God,  are  Worthy  of  beioe  for  evfer  re^ 
membered.  He  forgot  nis  own  ease, 
amidst  his  indefatigable  labours ;  be 
sighed  not  for  comforts  amidst  the 
multitudes  who  followed  his  footsteps^ 
and  listened  to  his  eloquence. 

Hirown  into  a  dungeon  by  a  brutal 
tyrant,  he  neither  forgot  his  duty,  nor 
feared  to  perform  it :  he  reproved 
Herod  for  his  incestuous  life ;  a  fife'sO 
contrary  to  the  principles  of  free- 
masonry: a  courtesan  demanded  his 
head  in  a  charger,  as  a  reward  for  h^ 
dancing,  and  a  tyrant  granted  the  de- 
mand. Thus  fell  our  great  patron^ 
in  conseqjuence  of  the  faithful  perform- 
ance of  bis  duty :  his  soul  ascended  to 
God,  his  fame  fills  the  world.  What 
an  exaiif[-4e  of  courage,  of  constancy, 
of  seal,  of  fidelity,  of  fortitude  in  thn 
performance  of  our  duty,  has  he  lefttd 
us !  Like  his,  our  path  may  be  rough, 
our  fare  hard,  our  perils  many,  our 
labours  severe ;  a  cruel  and  capricioul 
tyrant  maf  take  away  our  Hves,  but 
zeal,  courage,  fidelity,  fortitude,  pa- 
tience, and  perseveraiv^e  in  the  per- 
/ormance  of  onr  duty,  will  bring  fame 
here,  and  everlasting  felicity  hereafter^ 
Though  we  need  not  anticipate  trials 
as  numeroas  and  severe  as  were  those 
of  our  grw  patron,^a^  the  same  vir- 
tues, to  a  ee||||ta|xffit,  are  as  neces- 
sary for  us  aSH^weie  for  him.  Des- 
titute of /those^rtues,  what  b  man  ? 
If  in  the  full  possession  and  constant 
evereise  of  them,  man  is  but  a  little 
lower  than  the  angels  above ;  without 
them,  he  fs  for  beneath  the  reptile  be- 
low. Let  us  then,  my  brethren,  prac« 
tise  those  virtues,  as  we  are  commaad«> 
ed,  with  frequency^  fervency^  and 
zeal,  so  shall  our  lives  be  useful  on 
earth,  and  acceptable  in  heaven.  In 
the  path  of  duty  let  us  walk  on,  re- 
gardless of  opposition  from  ungodly 
men ;  fearing  nothing  but  disobedi- 
ence to  the  comrofl^ds' of  Qitf  Grand 

digitized  by  VjOXJ*^  Ic 


MAtONlG* 


Matter  above*  S«ch  k  the  importaiit 
lesson  taafffot  us  by  the  example  of 
John  the  Baptist.  In  the  school  of 
virtue  nay  we  commit  it  to  nemoryi 
and  often  repeat  it  by  the  way,  as  we 
are  traveling  home  to  the  Grand 
Lodge  iibove. 

But  although  this  day  is  dedicated 
to  the  recollection  of  the  worthy  Bap- 
tist, it  is  not  improper  to  recollect 
other  brethren,  who,  Tike  him,  have 
deserved  well  of  the  craft,  received 
lioaour  from  men,  and  been  highly 
blessed  by  beavep.  Our  own  beloved 
country  has  produced  brethren,  whose 
memory  we  are  bound  to  honour, 
vbote  virtues  we  ought  to  imitate.  To 
mention  them  aQ,  would  occupy  too 
B^uch  time,  and  will  not  be  atteraptect. 

But  who  was  it,  that,  quilting  the 
peaceful  shades  of  Vernon's  hill ;  all 
the  pleasures  which  wealth  could  pur- 
fchase,  friendship  offer,  or  domestic  fe- 
licity afford-r-placiug  bimselT  at  the 
bead  of  our  armies,  at  the  uoaninious 
call  of  his  countrymen,  and  contended 
many  a  year  for  our  liberties  and  inde- 
pendeoc^e,  until  victory  crowded  )iis 
efforts  with  success  ? 

It  was  Washington,  vho  was  a 
freemason,  and  delighted  to  meet  Ais 
brethren  upon  the  letel^  and  to  part 
^pitik  them  upon  the  9quaref  So  may 
we  aboojft  i^eel  and  pari,  my  breth- 
ren. 

¥nio  was  it,  that,  quittij^  the  pur- 
puts  of  privat^^,  an^sefln,  honour- 
able, and  lucraffP  D||||^ion,  assumed 
the  sword,  and  felR^Mfence  of  our 
liberties  on  BuiikerlRiU?  It  was 
WAftKBN,  who  was  our  brother,  and 
at  the  head  of  our  order  in  his  native 
BUte,  when  he  fell. 

Wha  was  it,  that,  by  his  discoveries 
in  electricity,  gained  a  high  place,  as 
a  philosopher  in  fame's  temple?  Who, 
by  his  indefatigable  exertions,  raised 
himself  from  the  humblest  walks  of 
life  to  the  highest  eniinence  asa  states- 
man? Who,  from  poverty,  became 
rich,  by  his  industry,  economy,  and 
prudence?  Whose  writings  are  read 
l^  every  part  of  the  civilized  world  ? 


Who  was  iCy  inibe,tkal  ^i 
the  lightninp  from  heavea,  aad  tka 
sceptre  from  tyrants  ?  It  was  Feakk- 
LIN9  who  was  at  the  bead  of  fwewii 
sonry  in  Pennsylvama» 

Washington,  Warran,  aad  Fnib 
lin  were  freemasons,  wboas  virteom 
labours  in  public  and  private  life,  ia 
the  field,  and  in  the  cabiBeC,dtserve 
our  esteem,  our  admiracioB,  aad  mm 
gratitude.  Compared  with  thaae  bretb* 
ren,  how  sink  the  moaardis  of  £«• 
rope  ?  Though  they  daspised  ibegew- 
gaws  of  princes,  tbiey  gloried  m  waaiv 
ing  our  jeweb.  The  ilmpficicy  aad 
sublimity  of  such  characsen  are  ealy 
estimated  by  the  crafr,  aad  wiU  be 
honoured  and  revered  by  maaklttd,  as 
long  as  patriotism,  courage,  coostan^,. 
fidelity,  perseverance,  ami  aU  the 
amiable  aad  heroic  viituea  fiad  ealov 
gists  and  admirers. 

Wq  need  not  the  illustrious  eiamp>« 
of  other  ages,  and  distant  ooomiies,  to 
excite  us  to  the  pedbnDanos  of  every 
duty,  to  the  practice  of  every  viita^ 
while  Washingtoa,Wan«%aBd  Fraakr 
lin  are  remembered.  FaaaitAioffaiV 
ihey  were  thine!  CoLGMasA,  they 
were  fhy  shield,  thy  boast,  and  Ay 
glory. 

To  nations,  tqsaed  oa  the  teaspest* 
ous  sea  of  liberty,  they  stand  as  asAr 
CONS,  to  light  the  mariner  over  quicll» 
sands,  and  through  whirlpools,  to  a 
safe  anchorage  ami  a  secure  faarboar. 
Assuming  the  principles  of  our  ordtf^ 
which  teach  us,  that  all  men  are  hom 
upon  a  level,  and  ought  to  walk  lyss 
the  equare,  the/  built  up  here  a  gai^ 
emment,  whole  sole  object  is  the  pn^ 
motioq  of  the  peace,  the  order,  aad 
tlie  happiness  of  the  inMe  commmiily* 
Uqw.  simple  in  theory,  how  aoblisif 
in  practice,  is  such  a  goveroBMSl, 
when  compcMred  with  the  fovenuneals 
of  Europe  ?  There,  gevemaMPl  is 
foonded  on  the  principle  that  the  aMr 
ny  are  made  to  be  governed  by  tl» 
fevfi  here,  rulers  erp  the 
of  the  people;  and  at  shstt,^ 
periods,  they  ate  eatue^ 
even  of  this  t^gpif^f^  asd  4ii 

Digitized  by  VjOOQ iC 


MASONIC. 


niMnied  with  aotfioritj  by 
the  people  from  whom  it  emanated. 

9«ch  is  tbe  government  founded  by 
the  pstriocs  of  che  reyolution.  How 
Klonoas  are  ks  principles,  hoW  ilhis- 
tnous  it»  fbimderi^  liow  happy  are 
^boee  wht  live  under  it,  provided  they 
^kkfdly  afhniniflier  it ! 

Fteenasonry !  thy  sages,  thy  phi- 
laaophers,    thy   warriors^    and   thy 
ctatesmeM  of  our  country,  who  have 
ifoofht,  and  toiled,  and  Med,  and  died 
in  oar  defence,  are  this  day  remem* 
berad    with  gratitude  by  thy  sons, 
vberever  they  are  assembled.    Histo- 
ty  has  raised  a  mowment  to  their 
Afflie  mora  donible  than  marble,  whnh 
akaW  stand  firm,  and  its  inscription 
continoa  andefaoed,  while  the  wuild 
shall  stand.     Patriots  of  every  coun- 
try, read  the  inscription  upon  this  pil- 
lar^  <kdicated  to  patiiotism,  end  to 
irirtne.    TeU  «s  not  of  finrnpean  ke- 
voes,  for  they  are  cofvered  with  the 
blood  of  their  fdloW'Cfliteiis.    Tell  us 
iMft  of  tmniem  statesmen,    for  tliey 
inounted  aloft  opon  ambition's  ladder, 
the  priacipai  rounds  of  which,  are 
Attery,  falsehood,  and  imrigue.  Tiieir 
^ject  is  self-aggrandixement,  and  they 
Imve  attained  it.    But  the  patriots  of 
the  revolution,  guided  by  the  eternal 
imnciplea  «f  justice,  troth)  and  patri- 
otism, songfal  to  exah  their  country, 
and  they  sueeeeded  in  the  attempt. 
How  siickeraiig  to  the  eye  of  every 
genuine  patriot,  are  the  courtiers  of 
this  giikem  ege^  compared  with  those, 
who  in  an  hon  o^re,  endured  every 
l»ffvatian,  pamed  throi^h  all  manner 
lol  perils,  toiled,  and  bled,  and  died, 
lor  tbehr  country !    flow  sink  the  po- 
ient  patriots  of  the»  days^  when  com- 
pared with  those,  who,  during  our 
atraggle  for  iadepea^Bnee,  might  have 
been  tradced  by  the  bhxid,  which  at 
^      «very  step,  distiUed  io  crimson  ca^> 
tents  from  their  weary  feet!    Their 
dothes,   consisting  of  ^shreds  and 
patches^  of  every  colour,  barefoot  and 
Jboagry,  they  redeemed  us  from  sla- 
A  peculiar  fatality  seems  to 
a^ndfd  themi  from  first  tb  bst. 


While  in  service,  they  asked  for  pay, 
and  continental  rags  were  given  to 
them.   Of  late  years,  an  act  was  pasl^ 
ed  for  their  relief,  and  soon  afterwards 
an  other  was  enacted,  in  order  to  de* 
fraud  them  out  of  it.    With  soldiert 
thus  treated,  our  brethren.  Washing* 
ton,  Montgomery,  Warren,  Clinton^ 
Gates,  Lee,  Scammel,  La  Fayette,  and 
others,  conquered  the  l>est  appointed 
armies  Britain  ever  sent  into  the  field* 
Patriots  of  every   age  and  country^ 
shall  repeat  the  story-to  their  children^ 
while  ever^  freemason  shall  rejoice, 
that  the  principal  actors,  in  those  days 
of  peril,  were  our  brethren.    Let  us 
honour  their  memories,  by  present 
ing  the  government  which  they  found* 
ed,  as  it  came  from  their  handi.    Let 
us  resist,  by  all  constitutional  mean^ 
every  attempt  to  abridge  our  rights 
by  the  insidious  doctrines  of  im|^ 
cathm    and   necessity.    These    doc- 
trines belong  to  tyrants,  and  oueht  nat 
to  be  transplanted  into  our  soil.    As 
freemoMMy  we  cannot  meddk  With 
political  affairs,  but  as  ciTnuiNS,  it  it 
our  duty  to  do  so,  whenever  our  voCa^ 
or  our  exertions  can  be  of  any  service 
to  our  country.    Let  us,  then,  honour 
the  memory  of  our  departed  bretbraBy 
who,  under  Heaven,  made  as  a  aatioa, 
by  an  adherence  to  their  prindplet) 
by  practising  those  vhrtues,  moral  ani 
social,  pubuc  and  private;  the  pot- 
session  of   which  rendered  them  s^ 
good,  so  amiable,  so  great  and  illoa* 
trioos.    Thusshdlwe  becoa^blesa* 
ings  to  ourselves,  our  families,  our 
friends,  and  our  country ;  be  an  hoa* 
our   to  freemasonry    and  to  humaa 
nature.    Timugb,  from  a  variety  of 
causes,   we   cannot  equal    Warreo^ 
Franklin,  Washington,  and  Cliatoa, 
in  extensive  osefuloess  to  oor  owa 
country,  and  the  world  at  large,  yet, 
by  practising  the  same  virtues,  #e 
may  be  nsefal,  honoured,  and  happy. 
We  can  promote  the  welfare  of  our 
country,  by  electing  into  office  virtu* 
ous,  enlightened,  and  patriotic  mea; 
by  holding  op  to  scorn,  the  ignoramus 
who  aspires  to  honours    which   be 


VASORie. 


^loesaot  merit;  by 
demagogiM  in  the  cTuit ;  by  frowning 
«Btbe  bypocrite  in  religion  or  poli- 
tics; by  assisting  the  worthy  brother 
who  is  poor;  by  aiding  the  widow, 
and  the  orphan,  when  tbey  stand  in 
need  of  assistance;  by  soothing  the  af- 
flicted; by  succouring  the  tempted; 
by  pouring  the  balm  of  consolation  in- 
*  to  the  bosom  of  the  broken  hearted. 
These  acts  we  can  peiibrra,  without 
arrogance,  pride,  or  haughtiness  on  our 
part;  with  tenderness  and  delicacy, 
*^.in  secret,  and  He  who  seeth  in  se- 
cret, shall  reward  us  openly/'  .When 
It  brother  is  in  danger  from  any  quar- 
ter, we  can,  many  times,  give  him 
tiroely  notice  of  it '  When  he  is  sur- 
Tounded  by  difficidties,  we  can,  fre- 
^|uent1y,mid  him  bv  oar  prudent  coun- 
sels and  advice.  When  malice  invenu 
Adsehoods  concerning  him,  we  can 
contradict  them,  and  put  to  afaame 
and  silence,  the  base  slanderer. 

Though  it  fall  not  to  our  tot  to  poa- 
itaathe  great  mental  abilities  of  Wash- 
inglOB  rad  Franklin ;  though  circum- 
Mnces  Bfuiy  be  such,  that  we  can 
Mver  have  it  in  our  power  to  culti- 
vate our  minds  to  the  extent  they  did, 
yety  by  a  careful  culture  of  our  bearta, 
we  may  raise  a  character  Ibr  virtue 
Mid  goodness,  which  shall  eclipae  the 
splendid  abilities,  when  nnac^ 


down  the  H  would  hate  occopied  tiie  higii  ilajiuM 
which  they  filled,  with  so  much  boi^ 
our  to  themselves,  so  much 
aess  to  mankind,  hod  they  i 
to  subdue  their  passions  ?  Tbty  [ 
tised  tins  first  lesson,  taught  by  ow^ 
sonry,  with  singular  felicity.  Teaa» 
perance,  prudence,  industry,  and  eeo» 
omy,  lead  to  long  life,  to  health,  to 
weahfa.  He  who  trains  up  his  cMdna 
in  the  way  they  should  go,  wiU, 


rally,  have  the  satisfiKtion  of  seciflf 
them,  when  arrived  at  maturity,  stii 
walking  in  those  ways.  He  who  j» 
gards  truth,  shall  be  confided  in,  trma- 
ed,  and  believed.  He  who  is  ym  tm 
others,  shall  himself  be  tseatad  witii 
justice.  The  company  of  the  juai^ 
the  amiable,  and  the  good  man,  shaH 
be  sought  after,  by  the  just,  the  aa» 
able  and  the  good.  Cootentmeat  shaM 
dwdl  in  his  breast,  light  op  his  < 


«ompanied  by  virtue  ;  and,  in  the  cir- 
cle in  which  we  move,  howe\'ef  small 
its  circumference  may  be,  produce  a 
licher  harvest  of  useAiloess  to  man- 
kind.  ^  The  memory  of  the  just  is 
Messed,"  but  this  happiness  does  not 
always  fall  to  the  lot  of  splendid  abi- 
iities.  How  maay  are  condemned  to 
cvesiasfing  fome,  Uke  Arnold,  without 
possessing  virtue  enough  to  endear 
ihem  t0B,  single  individual  i  Let  him, 
then,  who  w^hes  for  the  friendship  of 
his  fellow-dtuiens,  practise  those  vir- 
tues^ which  shall  command  their  es« 
teem.  The  practice  of  virtue  biii^ 
jkts  own  Kward  along  with  it  He 
who  governs  not  himself,  is  unfit  to 


tcnance  with  smiles,  reader  hia  Itfis 
happr;  his  death  shall  be  lamented 
by  others,  and  peaetM  t*  bimseif. 

What  a  vast  difiertnce 
snch  an  one,  and  a  vicious  man!  Tht 
very  countenance  of  the  latter,  ia 
stamped  with  base  and  disgusting  pen- 
sions. No  peace,  no  nrilctoeas,  no  ne» 
renlty  dwell  there,  but  hativd,  avtt* 
rice,  envy,  and  malice.    Nor  is  fie 


IS 

govern  others.    Think  you,  my  bre-  H  world"  beyond  Ae  erav^,  and  ^. 
^en,  that  Franklin  and  Washu^on  |  loc^p^eietcnial  intbe^lmm 


practice  of  virtue  inconsistent,  as  i 
vicious  men  would  msinuate,  with  tbm 
possession  of  the  greatest  talents,  nni* 
urai  and  acquired.  The  greatest  atui 
best  men  who  ever  lived,  constantly 
practised  the  homblest,  as  wefl  as  Ihm 
mosi  ezahed  virtues.  Oa  this  veiy 
account,  Washington,  Warren,  Frswit 
lia,  CKnton,  Greene,  and  a  lonf  lial 
of  brethren,  who  are  now  no  mortv 
command  oar  esteem,  as  well  as  oar 
respect  We  esteem  them  for  their 
virtues,  we  admire  them  fat  thdr^^ 
lents*  As  far  as  is  hi  our  power,  kti 
us  iodtate  thcexamptes  they  have  leH 
behind  them. 

My  brethren,  that  ncn^v  book,  wlm^ 
always  lies  open  la  our  Mg^y  inieimia 
us,  that  <<  there  is  another  and  a  betatr 


MABOMlftf 


itmpisto  carry  intoU  anywen^ptmy 
90&mvfi  or  aefeimve.  Ihose  wea- 
poB8,  are  vices,  and  vicious  propensi- 
ties, of  whtcb,  we  muii  be  diveited  6e- 
yore  mt  can  be  imveeted  wUk  the  tnte 
iaoAtkuiy  aa  a  badge  of  our  miio- 
eeiK«.  The  ^^tke^ogtcai  ladder^ 
wfikick  Jacob  saw  in  Me  vUioUy  is  the 
maky  jneaos,  by  which  we  can  ascend 
to  HeaveS)  the  three  principal  rduods 
9i  whichi  are  iidth,  hope,  and  charity. 
MoovAug  aloft  upon  these  rounds, 
any  we  all  ascend^  on^&y  the  benefit 
of  a  panHBordy  wluob  b  a  Saviour's 
xighteousoess,  he  admitted  hy  the 
graad  tylo^  death,  into  the  inner  tern*, 
pie  above,  aod  at  the  proper  season, 
«£ter  our  work  is  over,  be  permitted, 
by  the  Grand  Senior  Warden  of  the 
Cckstial  Lodge,  to  refresh  our  weary 
Mub,  ior  ever.  So  mote  it  be.  Amen. 


Foe  TBS  Maaohic  Rsoitna. 
CHBteTUN  MA^N. 

BV  OOBPAXIOir  SdBUBL  WOOBWOBTB. 
JW.   V. 

When  the  young  candidate  for  the 
society  of  <<just  men  made  perfect,'' 
has  been  tmis  duly  prepared^  (by  a 
state  of  deep  humiliation)  to  enter  on 
the  .thorny  path  of  repentance,  he  is 
imperceptibly  led  on  by  the  Lord, 
through  the  instrqmentaUty  of  bis 
ministeriDg  aageb,  until  his  stubborn 
knees  are  taught  to  bend  at  the  foot- 
stool of  Divine  Mercy*  For  the  first 
time,  he  now  seriously  and  ardently 
prays  to  be  enlightened  in  the  path  of 
Dis  duty.  He  had  not  hilberto  sup- 
plicated for  spiritual  Ughty  because  he 
>  had  been  ignorant  tlmt  he  stood  in 
need  of  it.  He  nowfeek  that  noth- 
ing else  is  so  desirable.  He  puts  his 
trust  in  the  Great  Author  and  Foun- 
tain of  light,,  at  whose  altar  he  enters 
into  a  covenanlxif  obedience^  and  from 
whom  a  bright  emanation  soon  bursts 
yipon  bis  intellectual  vision. 
Ht  now  perc<^ves  tfa^  Hol§  Word 


to  be  divine  truth,  and  to  that 'alone  ha 
is  directed  to  appJy  for  insumetioo  and 
suppiort.    Divine  love,  divine  wisdom, 
and  divine  operation,  appear  like  ihret 
great  light$y  united  as  one  in  the  prB^ 
motion  of  man's  salvation,  begetting  in 
the   soiil  the  three  leeeer  lighte  of 
charity,  foith,  and  good  works.    Tha 
daszled  optics  of  Ins  mind  gradually 
acquire  strength,  and  he  begins  to 
contemplate  the  new,  brigbty  and  woo* 
derfully  sublime  scenes  around  him.^ 
The  irst  bright  beams  of  truth  wer» 
pleasant;  but,  by  their  light, he  now 
perceives  truth  in  a  more  formidahW 
shape,  like  m  sharp  sword,  menaeinf 
the  destructmn  of  those  darling  afiec- 
tions  and  passions  which  fasive  coosti^ 
tuted  the  very  lifo  of  his  heart  and 
soul.    He  now  perceives  that  the  pi^ 
which  conducts  back  to  Eden  is  not 
strewed  with  its  roses ;  b^t  he  sees  the 
importance  of  persevering,  at  the  sao» 
rifice  of  every  costly  and  sensual  cobp 
cupiscence,  since  retreating  would  be 
certain  and  instant  destroction  to  his 
spiritual  life.    He  perceives,  also,  that 
the  sharp  and  pointed  truths  which 
now  seem  directed  againet  him,  ase 
the  very  nKaas  appointed  for  his  de- 
fence  and  protection^  and  this  en- 
courages him  to  proceed  in  the  wofk 
he  has  undertaken  to  perform. 


Whatever  the  candidate  had 


pes. 


sessed  6f  truth  and  goodness,  previous 
to  his  arriving  at  this  state,  had  been 
merely  outward,  external,  natural,  and 
consequently  a^»pareftf  and  notiW; 
but  now  genuine,  real  spkitual  truth 
first  dawns  upon  his  mind,  aod  he  is 
given  to  perceive  the  difierenee  be- 
tween the  two  states,  and  acknowledge 
theybrmer  to  be  darhmte  in  compaiv 
ison  with  the  present.  He  now  con- 
fesses that  the  light,  or  real  troth,  is 
from  the  Lord  alone;  and  that  the 
darkneee  of  error  and  evil  is  from  hel). 
Thus  a  division  is  made  between  the 
light  and  the  darkneee.  ^  And  God 
called  tbe  light  day,  and  the  darkness 
he  called  ni^t.  Aiid  the  eeemnr  and 
the  fftomii^  were  tbe^r«^  <i^y.^    Ja 


8 


Mtmne. 


frm  darkaess  to  light  coostitutes  the 
jatt  ttaie  of  regeneration  in  the  soul 
of  man. 

From  these  few  observations,  it  will 
be  readily  perceived  by  every  truly 
enlightened  mason,  that  the  ottered  ap* 
freniice*8  degree^  is  a  bemitifal  figure 
and  representation  of  the  Jirti  ttate 
of  regeneration.  It  will  be  seen,  that 
before  any  individual  commences  this 
alMmportant  work,  his  mind  is  a  con- 
fused chao9y  alike  destitute  of  genuine 
foodness,  and  void  of  spiritual  truth. 
That  all  hb  thoughts  and  afiections 
are  false  and  wrong;  and  that  he 
would  never  be  induced  to  oppose  his 
appetites,  and  lusts,  and  thus  com- 
mence a  reformation  of  his  life,  did 
not  Divine  Mercy  continually  operate 
upon  his  conscience,  through  the  in- 
stramentality  o(  hb  holy  spirit  and 
ministenng  angels.  The  precepts  of 
right  and  wrong,  with  which  the  me- 
mory has  been  stored  by  education, 
are  the  ckooiic  materiaU  of  which 
this  new  creation  is  to  be  formed. 
Like  the  materials  of  which  the  an- 
cient tempte  was  constructed,  they  are 
all  prepared  at  a  distance  from  Jeru- 
salem; or,  in  other  words,  ihey  are 
all  natural  before  they  are  made 
epiritiuU. 

•But  the  eternal  fiat  goes  forth,  and 
l^ht  instantly  dawns  upon  the  be- 
Bighted  mind.  Then,  for  the  first 
time,  does  the  candidate  for  Heaven, 
distinguish  (although,  as  yet,  in  a  laint 
degree)  the  difference  between  real 
and  (^^parent  truths;  then  does  he 
first  perceive,  by  the  light  of  revela- 
tion, that  there  is  no  goodness  nor 
truth  in  the  universe,  Imt  what  e'ba- 
nates  from  the  Lord,  who  is  himself 
essential  goodness,  and  essential  truth, 
and  thus  is  the  darkness  of  evening 
dissipated  by  the  bright  beams  of  an 
qpening  morning. 

But  the  o6%atum  to  which  he  vo- 
luntarily subscribes,  in  this  state,  must 
»ot  be  forgotten,  or  passed  over  in 
silence*  Prostrate  in  the  dust,  he  con- 
fttaes,  with  the  deepest  humili^,  that 
t|  it  by  nature^  nothmg  but  evil,  and 


that  of  himsdf,  independent  of  <H 
he  can  do  nothing.  But  bavkig  beet 
now  instructed  that  he  is  coittinoaily 
and  perpetually  endowed  with  power 
from  the  Lord  to  co-operaile  with 
Him  in  that  great  workof  leformetioo 
and  regeneration,  he  loeki  to  Hesiea 
alone,  for  a  continuation  sad  increne 
of  this  blessed  ability.  He  therefore, 
eaters  into  a  sdemn  eoeauud^M^  fk 
author  of  his  being,  in  whose  Im^ 
name  he  promises  that  all  those  nm- 
ral,  earthly,  and  sensual  aiecdooit 
which  tend  to  destn^  this  Mith 
shall  not  be  permitted  tt>  iotrode  on 
the  mysteries  of  the  spiritusi  temple 
about  to  be  erected  within  him,  whttej 
by  its  sanctity  would  be  pwCwc^i 
its  inestimable  jewels  stolen.  fc» 
then  made  to  feel  senn^/y, that  syio- 
lation  of  this  covenant,  on  his  pttf 
woii^  be  attended  by  such  faud  coa^ 
sequences  to  his  spiritual  facolties,  at 
would  destroy  his  capacity  for  being 
rebuilt  op,  as  a  teqapleof  the  UM 
God;  whereas,  the  pious  resolutioo II 
almost  instantly  rewarded  by  the  ei«- 
tiottof  one  beautiful  pillar  of  then- 
brie,  whereby  he  feds  himself  «<»■ 
bliihedintheLord^  and  is  enabled  to 
sing  for  joy,  in  strains  fike  the  wl» 
lowing : 

THB  SPIBITUAL  APWEKTICB's  IORO. 

There  is  a  world— the  worid  of  mind, 
By  neither  time  nor  space  conftoed', 
And  when  we  cease  in  flesh  to  dweU, 
That  world  will  be  our  heaven  or  heft. 

By  fallen  natore,  tis,  alas ! 
A  rode  chaotic,  sliapeless  mast; 
Devoid  of  goodoess,  tfoth,  or  U^t 
And  veil'd  in  bUckest  afaades  of  ni^ 

Bat  He,  who  gave  creation  birth, 
Can  rt'creaU  this  mental  eaith  i 
For^  His  Spirit,  Uke  a  dove, 
Broods  o'er  our  secret  thoughts  hi  b«- 

If  we  cooaeat  to  be  renewed. 

And  wish  onrevil  lasts  aaWae*;       ^^ 

"  Ut  th§n  H  bghi,"  He  sa^  mrf**** 


MABfftitC* 


Uto  da  we  seek  to  ka«w  M  Iioni, 
lUcetve  instructioii  from  Hb  tfford;    ' 
While  He  divldet  the  day  from  sighti 
And  we  proceed  from  ihade  to  ligtrt* 

lK>rd,  let  thy  spirit,  like  a  dove, 
Brood  oyer  dl  oaf  souls  in  love, 
Then  give  u*  light  our  state  to  see, 
And  we  will  give  the  praise  to  thee. 

Who  then  cannot  see  that  k  correct 
and  wonderful  analogy  exists  betwe^ 
the  creation  of  a  world,  and  the  re- 
creation, or  regeneration  of  a  soul  ? 
Every  enlightened  mason,  who  has 
studied  the  sublime  mysteries  of  the 
order,  knowt  this  to  be  the  case ;  and 
were  k  compatible  with  the  laws  of 
the  order^  we  could  rend«r  it  dear,  in 
ail  it9  particulars  and  modifications,  to 
^▼ery  enlightened  reader. 

In  my  next  number  I  shall  pur- 
sue thb  interesting  subject,  and  ex- 
plain the  mysteries  of  the  second 
degree  of  spiritual  masonry;  in  the 
mean  time  I  would  most  solemnly  cau- 
tion the  uninitiated^  thoughtless,  and 
profane,  against  indulging  themselves 
in  those  rude  invectives  which  have 
been  so  often  levelled  at  the  sacred 
ord^r.  Though  the  institution  a(>pears 
externally  Tike,  other  institutions,  and 
though  the  materials  of  which  it  is 
composed  are  oAen  such,  as  are  neither 
calculated  !•  command  afiection  nor 
respect,  yet  beware  how  the  principles 
of  the  institution  are  assailed.  The 
Philistines  knew  not  how  to  appreciate 
the  sanctity  of  the  ark  of  Israel,  be- 
cimse  its  external  appearance,  and  the 
materials  of  which  it  was  composed, 
were  merely  natural,  like  other  things 
of  a  similar  construction :  but  the  law 
and  the  testimony  were  within  it — it 
was  the  temple  of  Divinity — he  who 
touched  it  profanely,  died* 

DALCHO'S  EXPOSITION  OF  THE 
IMPLEMENTS. 

As  the  various  tools  and  instni- 
mtiitB,  whidi  W8  use  in  the  lodge,  are 
dl  emblematical  ol  the  ccmduct  whkfa 
ffeemwsMs  siiould  puisaein  tkfthvm 

VOL,  II.  2 


tercoutse  with  society,  I  OnSi  there- 
fore- endeavour  to  explain  to  yon  such 
;  of  them  as  we  most  freqnehtly  use. 

In  h  lodge  of  makers,  the  first  ob- 
ject which  deserves  attention,  is  the 
Mosaic  floor  upon  which  we  tread. 
It  is  intended  to  convey  to  our  minds, 
the  vicissitudes  of  human  affairs,  chec 
quered  with  a  strange  contrariety  of 
events.  To-day,  elevated  with  the 
smiles  of  prosperity,  to-morrow,  de- 
pressed by  the  ^wns  of  misfortune. 
The  precarioasness  of  our  situation 
in  this  world,  should  teach  us  humil- 
ity, to  walk  uprightly  and  firmly,  up- 
on the  broad  bans  of  virtue  and  reli- 
gion, and  to  five  assistance  to  our 
unifortunate  f(^0Yr-<reatnres,  who  are 
in  distress;  lest  on  some*  capriciana 
turn  of  fortune's  wheel,  we  may  be> 
come  dependents  on  those  who,  be- 
fore, looked  up  to  us  as  their  bene- 
factors. 

The  two  emblematical  {dOars,  erect- 
ed in  front  of  the  porch  of  th«  temple, 
independent  of  the  beauty  which  they 
added  to  the  building,  conveyed  to  the 
minds  of  those  who  entered,  a  know»> 
ledge  of  the  attributes  of  that  Being 
to  whom  it  was  dedicated.  The  lite- 
ral translation  of  the  name  of  the  left 
pillar  is,  /<  in  thee  is  strength,"  and 
that  of  the  right,  <<  it  shall  be  establish- 
ed," which,  as  a  learned  author  ob- 
serves, may  very  naturally  be  transpos- 
ed in  this  manner — ^OLord,  thou  art 
mighty,  and  thy  power  is  established 
from  everlasting  to  everlasting."  The 
name  of  one  of  the  pillars,  as  relating 
to  a  person,  may  give  a  different  trans- 
lati^,  which  I  shall  point  out  to  yoa 
on  some  other  occasion^ 

The  next  object  which  demands  at- 
tention, is  the  Holy  Bible,  with  the 
square  and  compassra  thereon.  As 
these  instruments  remind  us  to  keep 
our  actions  within  the  bounds  of  pro- 
priety, and  to  square  them  with  all 
mankind,  the  sacred  volume  on  whidi 
they  lie,  contains  the  unerring  guide 
for  our  conduct  through.  Kfe,  as  it  re- 
lates to  our  worship  of  the  Supreme 
Master  of  the  world,  and  our  conduct 


10 


MAiOlllC. 


to  Mch  other.  For  these  reasops,  this 
book  of  the  divine  law  is  never  closed 
in  our  lodges:  "it  is  open  to  every 
eye,  and  comt>reheii8ibie  to  every 
mind.'' 

Hie  letter  G.*  whicli  ornaments  the 
master's  lodge,  is  not  only  expressive 
of  the  name  of  the  Grand  Architect  of 
the  universe,  but,  also,  denotes  the 
science  of  geomeUy.  so  necessary  to 
artists.  But  the  aao|)tton  of  it,  by 
freemasons,  implies  no  more  than  their 
respect  for  those  inventions  which  de- 
monstrate to  the  world  the  power,  the 
wisdom,  and  beneficence  of  the  Al- 
mighty Builder,  in  the  works  of  cre- 
ation. 

The  blazing  star  is  the  emblem  of 
prudence,  which  is  dbe  of  the  emana- 
tions of  the  Deity,,  agreeably  to  the 
system  of  Basilide8.t  It  points  out  to 
freeniasons  the  path  which  leads  to 
happiness,  and  is  the  sure  source  of 
self-approbation.  ,  It  enlightens  us 
throi4[h  the  dark  and  ru^d  paths  of 
life,  and  enables  us  to  shun  the  many 
obstacles  which  would  impede  our 
progress,  and  imbitter  our  journey 
with  pain. 

The  three  great  lumioasies  allude 
to  th^  three  masonic  degrees,  and  at 
the  same  time  are  emblematical  of 
that  effulgence  which  should  illuminate 
the  mind  of  a  freemason,^  and  which 
he.  can  alone  receive  from  a  perfect 
understanding  of  the  principles  of  the 
order.    The  white  apron  and  gloves 

•  Robinson,  in  his  proofs  of  a  conspira- 
cy, says,  "G.  is  grace ;  the  flaming  star  is 
the  torch  of  reason.  Those  who  pottess 
this  knowledge  are  indeed  Ultunioati.'^ 
When  prejudice  warps  the  mind,  and  rea- 
son is  sacrificed  to  establish  a  favourite 
theory,  we  need  not  be  surprised  to  And 
troth  prottrated  to  fiction,  and  the  prodac- 
tlon  offered  to  the  world,  as  the  remit  of 
«ound  reflection,  and  the  eombinatioD  of 
just  principles. 

t  This  svstem  he  called  Abran,  which  Is 
ft  mystical  term  given  by  htm  to  the  Sii< 
preme  Beins;,  from  whom  emanated  865 
powers  and  intelligences;  constituting 
virtue,  prudence,  temperance,  fortitude, 
justice,  truth,  charity,  honesty,  meekness,  i 
^.  lie.  I 


are  also  emblamaiicaL  TbeYareaot 
worn  merely  as  insignia  of  the  ord^, 
but  as  badges  of  that  innate  innocaice 
and  purity  of  soul  which  freemasons 
should  always. possess;  and,  in  this 
point  of  view,  they  are  more  bono^ 
able  distinctions  ffaari  any  order  of 
knighthood  which  can  be  conferred. 
On  being  invested  with  these  badges 
of  innocence  and  humility,  a  freema- 
son should  firmly  resolve  to  support 
that  purity  and  integrity  of  heart,  of 
whicn  he,  outwardly,  wears  the  em- 
blems. 

The  rule,  the  line,  and  the  plumb- 
line,  the  square,  the  compasses,  &c. 
ar^  emblematical  of  the  conduct  we 
should  pursue  in  society.  To  ob^rve 
punctuality  in  all  our  engagements, 
faithfully  and  religiously  to  discbarge 
those  important  obligations,  which  we 
owe  td  God,  and  otir  neighbour ;  to 
be  upright  in  all  our  dealings ;  to  hold 
the  scale  of  justice  in  equal  poise;  to 
square  our  actions  by  the  unerring 
rule  of  God's  sacred  word;  to  keep 
within  compass  and  bounds  withau 
mankind,  particularly  with  a  brother; 
to  govern  our  expenses  by  our  in- 
comes ;  to  curb  our  sensual  appetites ; 
to  keep  within  boimds  those  unruly 
passions  which,  oftentimes,  interfere 
with  the  enjoyments  of  society,  and 
degrade  both  the  man  and  the  freema- 
son ;  to  recall  to  our  minds,  that  in 
the  great  scale  of  existence,  the  whole 
family  of  mankind  are  upon  a  level 
with  each  other,  and  that  the  only 
question  of  preference  among  freema- 
sons, should  be,  who  is  most  wise, 
who  is  most  good«  For  the  time  will 
come,  and  none  of  us  know  how  sooo, 
when  death,  the  great  leveller  of  all 
hitman  greatness,  will  rob  us  of  our 
distinctions  and  bring  us  to  a  level 
with  the  dust. 


DALCHO'S  ELEGANT  APOLOOT  TO 
THE  LADIES. 

Agreeably  to  the  tenets  of  oBrnr- 
der,  tha  Aar  lex  aie  eichidfi 


X^SJl^*^' 


^ASONiC. 


11 


fessioD :  not  because  they  are  deemed 
unworthy  of  the  secret,  "  nor  because 
the  mechanical  tools  of  the  craft  are 
too  ponderous  for  them  to  wield,"  but 
from  a  consciousness  of  our  own  weak- 
ness. Should  they  be  permitted  to 
fenter  the  lodge,  love  would  oAentimes 
enter  with  them,,  jealousy  would  pro- 
bably rankle  in  the  hearts  of  the  breth- 
ren, and  fraternal  affection  be  per- 
verted into  rivalshtp.  Although  the 
most  amiable  and  lovely  part  of  na- 
ture's workji  are  excluded  from  our 
meetings,  yet  our  order  protects  them 
from  the  attacks  of  vitious  and  unprin- 
cipled men.  It  forbids  us  to  sacrifice 
the  ease  and  peace  of  families  for  a 
momentary  gratification ;  and  it  for- 
bids OS  to  undermine  and  take  away 
that  transcendent  happiness  from  those 
whose  hearts  are  united  by  the  bond 
of  sincere  afiection. 

The  feelings  of  ii^omen  are  more 
czqaisitely  fine,  and  their  generous 
sympathy  is  more  easily  awakened, 
by  the  misfortunes  of  their  fellow- 
creatures,  than  the  stronger  sex.  The 
soft  tear  of  pity  bedews  their  cheeks 
at  the  tale  of  wo,  and  their  gentle  bo- 
soms heave  with  tender  emotions  at 
the  sight  of  human  wretchedness. 
They  require  not  the  adventitious  aid 
of  mystic  institutions  to  urge  th^m  to 
acts  of  charity  and  benevolence,  nor 
the  use  of  symbols  to  lead  them  to 
virtue.  Their  own  hearts  are  the 
lodges  in  which  virtue  presides;  and 
the  dictates  of  her  will  is  \heir  only 
incentive  to  action. 


MASONIC  COBBfiSPONDENCE 

Tlie  following  letters  were  origin«lIy 
published  in  the  late  <*  Masonic  Chroni- 
cle," npwardi  of  two  years  since,  and  are 
now  copied  into  tktf  <<  Register,"  by  parti- 
cular request  We  am  Informed,  that  the 
brother  to  whom  Ibey  allude,  was  a  respect- 
able and  Industrious  mechanic,  in  the  city 
of  New-York,  and  mach  beloved,  not  only 
by  the  members  of  hb  own  lodge,  but  by 
flU  the  brethren,  with  whom  he  was  ac- 
i|imliited.    We  arv  tlso  tnformedi  that  his 


wife,  who  was  kind  and  affectionate  to 
other  respects,  was  an  inveterate  enemy 
to,  and  persecutor  of  the  order,  which  she 
has  since  acknowledged  to  be  (under  Pro- 
vidence) her  only  friend  and  protector,  in 
a  strange  land ;  for  she  was  not  only  sup- 
plied with  every  necessary,  during  the  sick- 
ness of  herself  and  family,  but  was,  after 
her  recovery,  furnished  by  the  brethren  of 
Pittsburgh,  with  ample  means  to  return  to 
her  native  place,  and  to' the  arms  of  her 
friends.  This  is  but  one  Instance  out  of 
thousands,  where  females  have  experienced 
the  benevolence  of  an  institution,  which 
some  of  thehr  sex  despise,  and  have  used 
all  their  feeble  powers.  In  vain,  to  bring 
hito  (fisrepute,  an  Institution,  one  of  whose 
greatest  objects  is  to  protect  the  honour  of 
our  fair  sisters,  and  In  every  possltile  man- 
ner to  admlnl4er  to  .their  comfort  and 
happiness,  and  <*  In  a  way  that  they  know 
not,"  to  rescue  them  from  the  Intrigues  of 
the  **  vile  libertine,"  and  debauchee. 

Extract  of  a  letter  from  the  oiBcers  of 
Morton' Lodge,  No.  60,  New-Xork,  to 
the  oflScers  and  bretluren  of  No.  46,  Pitt»> 
borg^,  Pennsylvania. 

Jfew-York,  Jan.  26,  1819. 

DlAR  BitKTBRKir, 

It  has  become  the  duty  of  us^the 
undersigned  officers  of  Morton  Lodge, 
No.  50,  of  Ancient  York  Masons,  held 
In  the  city  of  New-York,  that  by  a 
resolution  of  said  lodgie,  they  have  di- 
rected Qi  to  express  to  you  their  siib* 
cere  gratitude,  for  the  brotherly  love 
and  affection  which  you  \i^ve  shown 
to  our  late  brother,  ,  who,  not 

long  since,  withdrew  from  us,  and 
moved  himself  and  family  to  your 
city*  His  premature  death,  and  that 
of  bis  three  infant  children,,  wfi  have 
learned  with  sincere  regrets  You, 
having  committed  his  remaina  to  its 
mother  clay,  (thoujgh  a  stranger  among 
you)  with  masonic  honours^  have  im- 

i)res8ed  qs  with  a  due  sense  of  our  ot>> 
igations  to  your  respectable  body, 
and  demands  our  warmest  acknow- 
ledgments. Your  attention  to  his  dis- 
consolate widow,  since  the  decease  of 
her  hosband  and  oflspring,  while  on 
the  bed  of  sickness,  with  foreboding 


12 


Uh$QHW. 


9gmp^m$  tibgt  abe  ngfl  soon  fellow  || 
turn  to  the  silent  tomb,  comipiaudy  and  | 
receive  our  warmest  thanks* 

Should  any  of  the  fraternity  associ- 
lited  with  vouy  be  travelliug  towards 
uSf  you  will  please  recommend  them 
to  our  particular  notice  3  and,  if  occa- 
sion should  require^  we  should  be  hap- 
py to  reciprocate  tht  brotherly  love 
which  y<m  have  bestowed  upon  one 
who  was  esteismed  among  us.  We 
should  be  happy  to  engage  yoi^r  atten- 
tion by  a  correspondence. 

Wishing  you  health  an4  prosperity, 
in  your  private  and  public  undertak- 
iogSy  we  subscribe  ourselves,  in  behalf 
of  the  lodg^9  yPMJ^  affectionate  bre^- 
rci), 

D.S. 

B.  W.  P. 
•  ;.  K.  F. 

S,  W.  A. 

ANSWER. 

JHtUinurgh,  March  6,  IQlf . 
fo  the  worshipful  master,  wardens,  and 

brethren,  of  Morton  Lodoe,  No.  GO, 

held  in  the  city  of  New- York. 
Brbtubsn, 

The  undersigned  ofiicerSf  of  lojdge 
No.  45,  of  Ancient  York  Matom^  held 
at  Pittsburgh,  Pepnsvlvania,  have  been 
instructed,  by  a  resolution  pf  the  lodge, 
to  reciprocate  the  feelings  pf  good  ^1- 
lowship  which  you  have  been  kind 
enough  to  eipres^  towards  its  mem- 
bers. 

The  benefits  of  masonry  are  leJi^pe- 
rienccd  here  by  thie  numerous  aud 
flourishing  societies  of  the  order  that 
are  daily  rising  %q  light.  To  bre- 
thren, it  must  be  pleasure,  and  af- 
ford ample  gratification,  not  only  that 
the  sublin^e  principles  of  the  craA  are 
hourly  extending,  but  that  in  couse- 
.  qoence  of  those  prinpiples,  a  mason 
can  scarcely  be  a  stranger  in  the  re- 
motest corner  of  the  world;  for,  the 
language  of  masonry  is  so  truly  uni- 
versal, that  though  he  make  his  abid- 
ing place  in  the  country  of  thpse  who 
are  foreigners  to  his  native  tongue,  he 
can  nevertheless  find  a  medium  of  cor- 
re8po|[|denqe  whicl?  is  adapted  to  his 


wants,  and  eao  resich  the  ear  of  ma- 
sonic benevolence  with  the  tale  of  his 
distre^es ;  so  that  not  only  does  he  ex- 
perience the  openoets  of  their  charity, 
whilst  living,  but  the  afflictions  of  his 
family,  after  bis  decease,  are  tempered 
by  the  kindness  of  the  brotherhood, 
ai\d  even  his  corpse,  instead  o(  being 
deserted  to  the  odlods  indifierence  ^ 
strangers,  is  deposited  In  its  last  me- 
lancholy resting  place,  accompanied 
by  those  honours  which  are  coeval 
with  masonry  hprself.. 

Tlie  honours  bestowed  upon  oar 
late  brother, ^  md  the  atten- 
tion paid  to  his  disconsolate  widow, 
were  duties,  in. the  performance  of 
which,  we  were  amply  remunerated, 
by  the  consideration  that  the  deceased 
was  a  brother,  and  a. stranger.  Thut 
this  circumstance  has  been  an  induce- 
ment with  you  to  open  a  correspond- 
ence with  us  upon  masonic  subiects, 
is  the  more  gratifying,  inasmuch*  as  it 
was  totally  unexpected.  Whilst  we 
receive  your  thanks  with  pleasure,  ve 
in  return  thank  you  for  your  good  in« 
tentions  towards  those  way-faring  bre- 
thren of  our  lodge,  who  may  be  trav- 
ellmg  your  way ;  and  we  shall  em- 
brace, with  pleasure,  the  opportunity 
of  becoming  better  acquainted  wiji 
our  .brethren  in  your  city,  byrecosa- 
mending  such  travelling  brethren  to 
your  kind  protection. 

With  the  fraternal  afiection  of  ma- 
sons, we  subscribe  ourselves,  in  bduUf 
of  pMi:  lodge, 

Your  brethren, 

C.  S.W.M.i>ro.<€», 

T.  p.  SecVy. 


INSTRUCTION  AND  DISCIPLINE. 

The  following  extract,  from  a 
delivered  by  the  rsFeread  Mr.  Beede,  a 
number  of  years  sUice,  is  deserving  the 
caretal  perusal  of  every  peEBoa  who  Ims 
been  ioitiftted  into  the  mysteries  of  fteaam- 
sonry »  bat  it  main  parlipi|larly  elainwlhe 
attention  of  thoae,  who  have  beenseleetad 
by  their  U<etkren«  as  auMteny  brother  oftr 
cers.    Sttttimeats 

Jigitized  by 


•^g«.^«T«p^ 


3gr 


MASONIC. 


13 


eteded  froilPthe  1tp8»  or  peo  of  any  finite 
lieing.  Were  these  aemimepU  oarefttUy 
itudliedy  and  strictly  practbed  by  the  guar- 
diaiu  of  the  craft ,  thoae  in  subordinate  situ- 
ations would  follow  their  example,  and  our 
beloved  institution  would  appear  to  the 
wodd,  in  all  Its  original  usefulness  and  re- 
spectabiiity,  and  the  shafts  of  malevo- 
lence, bigotry,  and  superstition,  might  b| 
pointed  at  it  in  vain. 

<<  The  first  business  of  masons,  in  an- 
cient times,  was  to  divide  the  mem* 
bers  of  the  order  mlo  distinct  classes, 
rising  in  gmdes  one  above  another, 
according  to  their  respective  degrees 
of  merit, 

it  was  the  duty  of  niasters  and  offi^ 
eers,  to  dispense  instruction,  to  pro- 
vide employ ment,  and  to  secure  to  the 
labourer  his  wages,  as  they  became 
due.  It  was  tl^ir  business  also,  to 
Mamiae  persons,  and  recommend 
theai  to  such  employments  as  were 
adajiled  to  their  capacities  and  quali- 
fications, to  the  end,  that  business  of 
importance  might  never  be  intrusted 
to  the  unskilful  or  faithless. 

All  persons-belonging  to  the  lodge, 
and  in  particular,  candidates  for  ma» 
sonic  iioiiours,  were  obliged  to  be  in- 
dustrious, and  frugal,  that  they  might 
not  only  support  themselves,  but  lay 
op  something  for  charitable  purposes. 
Great  care  was  taken  to  encourage 
the  lower  grades  to  make  proficiency 
in  labour,  learning,  and  morality. 
Such  as  excelled  were  promoted ;  and 
i|s  often  as  promoted^  entitled  to  high- 
€t  wages,  and  more  desirable  employ*- 
Itteots. 

A  plan  so  happ^y  concerted,  and 
8o  ably  executed,  could  jaot  fiii  of 
pcoducittg  the  most  beneficial  effects. 
Lodges  at  oqce  became  schools  of 
scieAce,  and  nurseries  of  virtue.  None 
but  honest,  industrious,  and  skilful 
workmen,  or4hose  who  discovered  a 
•disposition  of  becQfpcftg  so,  could  be 
encparaged;  but  all  such  persons  un- 
der the  protection  of  the  fratennty, 
Irere  sure  to  find  emplqymeHt,  aad 
Inward,  accordii^  to  their  rank. 

^t,  in  prqcivs  of  time,  when  the 


mechanic  arts  were,  carried  to  a 
degree  of  perfecttoo,  and  w^m  geae- 
raUy  known  in  aU  civilized  countries, 
and  of  course  needed  no  extraordinary 
patronage,  the  medmnical  brandi  of 
this  insititution  gradually  yielded  to  the 
moral.  So  that  freemasonry,  in  mo- 
dern times,  may  .properly  be  called  a 
BMiral  science;  and  the  meetings  of 
lodges,  may,  with  the  same  propriety, 
be  caBed  "feasts  of  charity,^  it  being 
their  great  business  and  object,  to 
teach  and  enforce  the  observance  of 
piety  and  benevolence.  Veneration 
for  God,  and  hsve  to  the  human  Idnd, 
are  nm^og  thehr  fundamental  princi- 
ples. Ami  by  means  of  a  universal 
language,  and  a  mniiher  of  salutary 
rites  mid  regulations  peculiar  to  the 
order,  they  are  aMe  to  maintain  mu« 
tual  harmony  and  friendship,  and  to 
otrry  on  a  free  and  general  commerce 
of  virtuous  prtnctpl^  and  bcuevoleiit 
offices,  thrcNigbmtt  the  world. 

Hence  we  see  the  importance  of  the 
masonic  institution  under  its  present 
form,  and  the  propriety  of  entermg 
into  thatre^MBclable  fraternity  for  the 
purpose  of  correcting  vice,  aud  difi^ 
iag  knoif  ledge  and  p^anthropy. 

Kit  if  this  institution,  according  to 
its  original  plan  and  design,  be  r^ly 
good,  if  it  be .  calculated  to  render 
mankoid  social  and  harmonious;  to 
make  them  hoimst,  and  upright,  true 
to  Crod,  and  to  their  country,  and  to 
cement  them  together  in  the  bonds  of 
a  virtuous  affection ;  then  it  will  evi« 
dently  fdlow,  that  much  care  should 
be  taken  to  prevent  so  good  an  institu- 
tion from  being  corrupted.  Feasts 
of  charity  should  nev^r  be  turned  into 
licentious  revels;  nor  temples  of  friend* 
ship  into  theatres  of' treachery.  And 
to  prevent  these,  and  other  evils,  to 
which  lodges  may  be  exposed,  I  beg 
leave  to  suggest  to  the  fraternity  three 
things.  First,  Caution.  Secondly,  In- 
struction.   And  thirdly,  DiscipUne. 

First,  In  regard  to  the  admission 
of  members,  much  caution  will  be 
necessary,  that  you  may  not  be  im- 
posed upoQ  by  Improper  characters. 

jigitized  by  VjOX)Q[C 


14 


MASONIC' 


As  Uli  tbe  design  of  freemasonry  to 
create  friendship;  to  make  provision 
lor  the  relief  of  poor  and  distressed 
brethren;'  to  inculcate  a  filial  reve- 
rence for  Almighty  God;  and  to  en- 
courage those  personal  and  social  vir^ 
tuet,  which  adorn  and  dignify  human 
nature,  and  render  mankind  peaceful 
and  happy;  the  doors  of  the  lodge 
must,  therefore,  be  for  ever  barred 
against  the  malevolent,  the  profane, 
i£e  idle,  )iie  seditious,  and  unruly  of 
every  description.  For  all  sock  p^r- 
•DOS  would  prove  but  spots  in  your 
ieasu  of  charity.  While  foasting  with 
you,  and  feeding  witkoot  fear,  they 
wottU  spy  out  your  liberty,*  interrupt 
yonr  peaceful  intereoarse,  trifle  with 
yonr  moral  lectures,  sow  discord 
among  brethren,  and  thereby  bring  op 
an  evu  report  upon  the  society,  so  as 
to  counteract  the  benevolent  |Mirpose» 
for  which  it  was  instltnted. 

Secondly,  To  preserve  the  purity 
of  the  order,  instruction  is  necesSf*.rv. 
Masters  and  officers,  therefore,  should 
«Mike  it  their  business  to  pay  a^parti- 
cdUur  attention  to  lectiifhi|.  Themys^ 
series  of  the  craft  are  to  be  anfokted^ 
and  the  moral  duties  inculcated.  Ma* 
sons  are  not  to  be  trained  up  in  igno- 
rance and  vice.  Their  minds  are  to 
be  enlarged,  and  improved.  They 
are  to  be  frequenHy  reminded  of  tiieit 
obligations  to  love  and  worship  Al- 
migfaty  God ;  to  acknowledge  him  as 
their  sovereign  lord  and  master;  to 
keep  his  name  sacred;  and  to  govern 
their  lives  by  the  unerring  precepts  of 
his  word.  They  must  be  taught  to 
be  good  men,  and  true ;  to  be  sober, 
industrious,  and  charitable,  upright  in 
their  dealings,  and  peaceable,  ami  be- 
oevoleut  in  all  their  social  intercourse. 
They  are  to  be  taught  to  walk  in  wisr 
dom  toward  them  that  are  without, 
making  a  diligent  improvement  of  their 
time  and  talents;  and  having  their 
speech  always  with  grace,  seasoned 
.  with  salt,  tliat  they  may  know  how 
they  ought  to  answer  every  man. 
They  are  to  be  admonished  to  avoid 
political  anrf  religious  disputes^  toge- 


ther with  all  domestic  broft  and  con- 
tentions, that  they  may  live  in  love 
and  peace,  having  consciences  void  of 
offence,  and  characters  unspotted  from 
the  world. 

Thirdly,  That  there  may  be  no 
spots  in  your  feasts  of  charity,  it  will 
be  necessary  to  attend  to  discipline. 
«  It  is  to  be  expected  that  unworthy 
members  will  sometimes  creep  into 
the  lodge,  notwithstanding  all  your 
caution,  instruction,  and  exertion  to 
prevent  them.  And  not  only  so,  but 
persons  m^o  were  once  regular,  may 
grow  careless,  and  so  yicTd  tosinffat 
indulgences,  as  greatly  to  affect  the 
reputation  of  the  order.  These  tilings 
will  require  discipline.  Unruly  mem- 
bers must  be  reduced  to  order.  Super- 
fluities must  be  lopped  off.  The  first 
risings  of  vice  must  be  suppressed. 
Otherwise  the  lodge  wHI  resemble  the 
field  of  the  slothful,  or  the  vineyard  of 
a  man  void  of  understanding,  where 
the  stone  wall  is  broken  down,  and 
the  face  thereof  is  overgrown  with 
thorns  and  nettles. 

But  hi  the  exercise  of  discipTme, 
much  prudence  will  be  requisite. 
Some  will  be  corrected  by  a  gentle  re- 
buke, while  others  may  require  seve- 
rity. A  proper  discrimination,  there- 
fore, must  be  made.  Such  as  have 
been  guilty  of  a  mere  indfscretioo, 
must  not  be  dealt  with  like  wilfbl  and 
notorious  oflenders,  but  must  be  ap- 
proached in  all  the  kind  and  compas- 
sionate offices  of  friendship;  and  if 
they  possess  a  masonic  temper,  dieif 
sensibility  will  be  ftfTected  by  such  m 
adnionkion,  and  their  penitence  mani- 
fested by  a  speedy  amendment. 

Others  again,  who  have  grown  more 
hardened  in  wickedness,  and  have  re- 
peatedly rejected  your  afl^ictionale  re- 
monstrances, you  must  approaicih  with 
earnestness,  trembling  for  the  reputa- 
tkm  of  the  crafi,  and  soatchiDg  them 
as  brand':  from  the  burning,  fittt,  if 
diev  wiU  not  sofTer  themsehres  to  be 
reclaimed  either  by  your  gentle,  or 
more  nealous  exertions,  afkr  having 


MASONfC. 


15 


expedieot  «f  reformation,  you  must  re- 
move them,  as  so  many  spots  and 
nuisances,  from  the  sodetj/' 
•••••• 

COHHUmCATED  FOR  tHK  RSOIStXR. 

WEBB  ENCAMPMENT. 

At  a  meeting  of  Webb  £ncaro[>- 
ment  of  Knights  Templars,  and  the 
appendant  orders,  held  at  Mason's 
Hall,  In  Lexington,  on  the  22d  Aug. 
.the  following  officers  were  elected  for 
the  ensuing  year : 

M.  E.  Sir  David  Graham  Cowan, 
of  Danville,  Mercer  county,  Grand 
Commander. 

£.  Sir  Isaac  Thom,*of  Louisville, 
Generalissimo. 

E.  Sir  Thomas  Nelson,  of  Lexing- 
ton, Captain  General. 

Sir  William  Gibbes  Hunt,  of  Lex- 
higton,  Prelate, 

Sir  Jolin  H.  Crane,  of  Loubville, 
Senior  Warden. 

Sir  Edward  Tyler,  jun.  of  Louis^ 
T^lle,  Junior  Warden. 

Sir  James  Grr.ves,  of  Lexingtonj 
Treasurer. 

Sir  James  M.  Pike,  of  Lexington, 
Recorder. 

Sir  Harry  L  Thornton,  of  Frank- 
fort, Sword  Bearer. 

Sir  Anthony  Dumesnill,  of  Lexing- 
ton, Standard  Bearer. 

Sh*  John  Trott,  of  Louisville,  War- 
der. 

Sir  Francis  Walker,  of  Lexington, 
Guard. 
Attest. 

J.  M.  PIKE,  Recorder. 

From  the  Masonic  Miscellany. 
GRAND  LODGE  OF  KENTUCKT. 

The  Annual  coinnranicati9n  of  the  Grand 
Lodlge  of  Kentnekv,  was  hM  in  Lexing- 
ton, dnriqg  the  W  weak  in  August, 
1821,  and  the  following  brethren  were 
duly  elected  Grand  Officers,  fov  the  year 
ensuing : 
M.  W.  John    M<Klhney,  jun.  of 

Versailles,  Grand  Master. 
R.  W.  David  G.  Cowan,  of  Dan- 

ville>  Deputy  Grand  Master. 


W.  AsaK.  Lewis,  of  Clark  County, 
Grand  Senior  Warden. 

W.  John  Speed  Smith,  of  Rich- 
mond, Grand  Junior  Warden. 

William  T,  Barry,  of  Lexington, 
Grand  Orator. 

Caleb  W.  Cloud,  of    Lexington, 
Grand  Chaplain. 

Daniel    Bradford,    of    Lexington, 
Grand  Secretary. 

Michael  Fishd,  of  Lexington,  Grand 
Treasurer. 

David    C.    Irvine,    of  Richmond, 
Grand  Senior  Deacon. 

Robert  Talliaferro,  of  Paris,  Grand 
Junior  Deacon. 

John  IL  Crane,  of  Louisville,  Grand 
Martha! . 

Thomas  Smithy  of  Lexlngtou,  Grand 
Sword  Bearer. 

John  D.   Halstead,  of  Lexington, 
Grand  Pursuivant. 
Francis  Walker,  of  Lexington,  Grand 
Steward  and  Tyler* 


FaOM  THE  MaSOHIC   MiSCZLLANr. 

SKETCH  OF  THE  HISTORY  OF  FR££< 
MASONRY  IN  TENNESSEE. 

Previously  to  the  27th  of  Decem- 
ber, A.  L.  5813,  A.  D.  1813,  the 
lodges  in  the  state  of  Tennessee,  (eight 
in  number)  worked  under  charters 
from  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Nortli 
Carolina.  On  that  day,  representa- 
tives from  the  lodges  of  Tennessee, 
assembled  in  Grand  Convention  at 
Knozville,  when  a  charter,  or  deed  of 
relinquishment,  from  the  Grand  Lodge 
of  North  Carolina,  bearing  date  the 
30th  September,  A.  L.  5813,  was  laid 
before  the  convention.  This  instru- 
ment relinquished  all  authority  and 
jurisdiction  over  the  several  lodges  In 
this  state,  and  gave  assent  to  the  erec« 
tion  of  a  Grand  Lodge  for  the  state  of 
Tennessee. 

The  convention  having  been  duly 
organized,  a  consfStutipn  and  by-laws 
were  adopted,  and  the  following  bre* 
thren  elected  and  solenmly  installed^ 
officers  thereof,  visu  .  '^^^. 

)igitized  by  VjOOQ  Ic 


16 


MASOXICr 


The  M.  W.  Thomas  Claiborne,  Esq. 

Graod  Master. 
R.  W.  George  Wilson,  Deputy  Grand 

Master. 
R.  W.  John  Hall,  Senior  Grand  War- 

*den. 
R.  W.  A.  K.  Shaifier,  Junior  Graini 

Warden. 
W.  Thomas  M'Corry,  Grand  Trea- 
surer. 
W.  Edward  Scott,  Grand  Secretary. 

On  the  first  Monday  in  October, 
A.  L.  5814,  the  Grand  Lodge  met  at 
Nctshville,  (the  then  seat  of  govern- 
ment of  the  state,)  when  the  M,  W. 
Thomas  Claiborne,  Esq.  was  reelect- 
ed Grand  Master. 

October,  A.  L.  5815.  The  M.  W. 
Robert  Searcey,  Esq.  was  elected 
Grand  Master,  and  re-elected  October 
1816.  At  the  meeting  of  the  Grand 
Lodge  in  5816,  tharters  were  issued 
to  a  lodge  at  St.  Louis,  Missouri ;  one 
at  Blountsville,  Tennessee^  ancTone  at 
Natchez,  Mississippi. 

October  5817.  The  M.  W.  Wil- 
kins  Tannehill,  Esq.  was  elected 
Grand  Master.  Dmringthis  year  chaN 
ters  were  issued  to  four  lodges  in  the 
state  of  Tennessee,  and  one  at  Port 
Gibson,  Mississippi. 

October  5818.  The  M.  W.  Wil- 
kins  Tannehill,  Esq.  was  re-elected 
Grand  Master.  Th'is  year  charters 
were  issued  to  one  lodge  in  the  state  of 
Tennessee,  and  two  in  Alabama. 

On  the  24th  of  June  1819,  the  cor- 
ner stone  of  a  Masonic  Hall  was  laid 
in  the  town  of  Nashville,  with  appro- 
priate ceremonies,  by  the  Grand  Mas- 
ter, assisted  by  the  officers  of  the 
Grand  Lodge,  and  the  officers  and 
members  of  Cumberland  Lodge  No.  8. 
In  the  corner  stone,  together  with  the 
coins  of  the  year,  was  deposited  a 
plate  of  copper,  with  the  following 
inscription : 

On  the  24th  June,  A.  L.  5818,  A.  D. 
1818,  was  laid 

THIS  FOUNDATION  STONE 

of  a 
HALL, 


To  be  erected  by  the        ' 

MEMBSaS  Ctf* 

CUMBERLAND  LODGEy 

No.  8. 

'*  Behold,  saith  the  Lord  God,  I  bare 
laid  in  Zion,  a  stone,  a  tried  stone,  a  pre- 
cious comer  stone;  a  sure  fooodatioii 
stone." 

This  buUdingf  is  now  nearly  oooh 
pleted.  The  fuads  lor  its  ^ectioii 
were  raised  by  lottery,  and  indWidoll 
subscriptions. 

October  5819-  The  M.  W,  Oliver 
B.  Hayes,  Esq.  was  elected  Grand 
Master.  This  year,  charters  were 
issued  to  five  lodges  in  Tennessee,  two 
in  Missouri,  one  in  Illinois,  and  one  in 
Alabama. 

October  5820.  The  following  (who 
are  the  present  officers)  were  elected 
and  installed,  viz. 
The  W.  M.  Wilkins  TannehiU,  Grand 

Master. 
R.  W.  £dward  Ward,  De|Mity  Grand 

Master. 
R.  W.  George  Wilson,  Senior  Grand 

Warden. 
R.  W.  William  G.  Dickinson,  Junior 

Grand  Warden. 
W.  Moses  Norvell,  Grand  Sefretary. 
W.  E.  H.  Foster,  Qrand  Treasurer. 
Rev.  John  Coi,  Grand  Chaplain. 
Br.  A.  H.  Wood,  Grand  Sen.  Deacon, 
^<  James  Irwin,  Grand  Jun.  Deacon. 
<<  Thomas  Hyter,  G.  Swoid  Bearer. 
<<  M.  L.  Dixon,  Grand  Marshal. 
"  E.  Cooper,  Grand  Steward. 
<^  Duncan  Robertson,    da 
^'  Samuel  Chapman,  Grand  Tyler. 

^n  the    town  of  Nashville  k   a 
Royal  Arch  Chapter,  tmder  the  Jiiri»- 
diction  of  the  General  Grand  Royal 
Arch  Chapter  of  the  linked  States. 
The  following   companions   are  tbe 
officers  thereof,  viz. 
£.  WUkins  Tannehill,  H'^  Priest^ 
E.  E.  Cooper,  King, 
£.  Stephen  CantreU;  Scribe, 
Comp.  John  Spence^  TreaSoier, 


MASONIC. 


if 


&S  THE  PROPER  MODE  OF  PUB- 
LISHING EXPULSIONS. 
jExtrad  from  a  letter  to  the  Editor  of  the 
Matouic  MmeUtmy. 

"I  have  recently  received  a  letter 
from  a  distinguished  member  of  the 
masonic  family,  in  the  western  part  of 
the  state  of  New-York ;  by  which  I 
learn,  that  the  site  of  the  Grand  Lodge 
joi  that  state,  has  been  lately  removed 
from  the  city  of  New-York  to  Albany. 
!My  correspondeqt  informs  me,  that 
while  master  of  a  lodge,  he  received 
an  official  circular  fro^i  the  Grand 
L9dge  of  that  state,  containing  some 
edicts  and  rules  for  the  goveipment  of 
the  craft,  among  which  was  the  fol- 
lowing: 

<<  No  lod^A  under  ibb  lurisdiction,  nor 
any  member  thereof,  fball  publbh,  or  in 
»ny  manner  make  public,  except  to  the 
Iratemity,  or  within  the  walls  oi  a  lodge, 
the  expulsion  of  any  member." 

<*  On  reading  the  above  extract,  I 
must  acknowledge  J  was  seriously  put 
to  thinking.  I  should  feel  the  utmost 
delicacy  in  iropeachiag,  either  what  I 
had  considered  an  ancient  usage  of 
the  fraternity,  or  the  wisdom  of  the 
Grand  Lodgie  of  New- York.  If  you 
deem  it  a  proper  subject  for  specula- 
tion in  the  pages  of  the  "  Mhcellany/^ 
I  should  be  gratified  to  read  your 
i>pinions  on  the  propriety  or  impropri- 
ety of  the  above  edict." 

"  BEMARKS," 

[By  the  Editor  of  the  Miscellany.] 

"  We  confess  we  do  not  see  the  pro- 
priety of  the  regulation  adopted  by  the 
Orand  Lodge  of  New- York.  Mercy, 
it  is  true.  Is  a  leading  principle  of  ma- 
sonry, but  when  once  an  erring  bro- 
ther is  suspended  or  expelled,  duty  to 
the  character  of  the  order^  as  welt  as 
justice  to  the  condemned,  requires  that 
the  suspension  or  expulsion  shoqld  be 
made  known  as  extensively  as  possi- 
ble, to  the  world  at  large.  There 
may  have  been  reasons  actuating  the 
Grand  Lodge  of  New-York,  to  the 
adoption  of  this  measure,  which  do 
jtiot  occur  to  us,  but  we  are  really  un- 


able  to  discern  any  good  aigument  ia 
favour  of  keeping  secret,  nr  forbear^ 
ing  to  publish  as  widely  as  possible^ 
the  expulsion  of  any  unworfty  memr 
her.  We  cannot  but  be  awane  of  the 
readiness  with  which  the  eneniies  of 
the  order  array  against  it  the  iliarac- 
ters  of  those  among  the  fraternity, 
who  are  guilty  of  base  and  disgraceful 
conduct.  When  such  men,  theh\forey 
are  expelled,  every  principle  of  jus- 
tice appears  to  require  that  the  fact 
should  be  extensively  made  knowv^ 
in  order  that  the  imputation  so  illibe* 
rally  cast  upon  the  order,  for  having 
bad  men  within  its  sacred  asylum, 
should  be,  as  far  as  possible,  removed. 
We  wish  not  to  see  the  piivate  con- 
cerns of  masonry  blazed  abroad  to  the 
world,  but  we  wish  to  see  the  order 
vindicated  from  the  charge  of  tolerat- 
ing immorality,  and  spreading  its  man- 
tle over  base  and  unworthy  conduct.** 

The  first  clause  of  the  above  extract, 
so  far  as  it  relates  to  the  removal  of  the 
site  of  the  Grand  Lodge  of  this  state, 
to  the  city  of  Albany,  is  perfectly  in- 
correct ;  of  course,  the  correspondent 
of  the  editor  of  the  Masonic  Miscel- 
lany, has  been  misinformed.  Such  a 
measure,  it  is  true,  has  been  agitated 
in  our  Grand  Lodge,  and  was  propos- 
ed by  the  representatives  of  our  wor- 
thy brethren  in  the  Western  District 
of  this  state,  owing  to  the  great  dis? 
tance  they  were  under  the  necessity  of 
travelling,  which  caused  an  unequal 
representation;  togetlier  with  some 
other  grievances.  But  these  difficulties 
have  been  amicably  adjusted,  and  the 
site  of  the  Grand  Lodge  still  remains 
in  the  city  of  New-York,  and  we  pre* 
sume  our  western  brethren  are  satis* 
fied  with  the  result. 

As  to  the  regulation  of  the  Grand 
Lodge,  relative  to  publishing  expul- 
sions, the  information  is  correct,  and 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


j8  M60NIC. 

we  mult  confetf,  with  the  editor  of 
the  M itfceUany,  that  ^^  we  do  not  see 
the  pnopricty*'  of  the  cegulation ;  for 
^^baseaud  disgraceful  coaduct'' in  aa 
individual  of  any  society,  ought  never 
to  be  concealed  from  the  wprld,  parti- 
culiarly  when  such  jcopdact  becomes 
habitual)  ^nd  is  from  time  to  time  re- 
peated, notwithstanding  the  afiectioi^- 
ate  remonstrances  of  the  brethren  to 
the  contrary.  And  God  forbid,  that 
masonry  should  ever  become  a  cloak, 
to  screen  fron^  public  view  /evil  trans- 
actions of  whatsoever  nature.  It  is  our 
decided  opinion,  however,  that  ex- 
treme caution  should  be  used,  relative 
to  expulsions,  and  that  no  brother 
ought  ever  to  be  expelled,  till  all 
means  for  his  reformation  have  failed. 
We  are  not  only  to  forgive  our  breth- 
ren **  seven  tim^,*'  but "  seventy  times 
seven.''  It  is  the  duty  pf  .eyery  mem- 
ber of  the  ma3onic  femily,  if  he  see  a 
brother  in  a  fault,  to  confer  with  him  in 
private  on  the  subject,  and  in  the  most 
tender  manner^  to  poi^  out  the  attend- 
ant evils  .of  his  conduct,  both  to  himself, 
and  to  the  fraternity  at  large.  Were 
this  duty  punctually  observed,  bad  ha- 
bits would  be  nip^  in  the  bud,  many 
brethren  would  be  saved  from  destruc- 
tion, and  the  causes  for  expulsion  would 
be  much  less  frequent.   Ed.  Main  Reg. 


From  the  Fraqklin  Chronicle. 

WortMngton^  Ohio. 

We  have  received  the  first  number 
of  the  f<  Masonic  Miscellany,  and  La- 
dies' Literary  Magazine,"  published 
at  Lexington,  Kentucky,  by  William 
Gibbes  Hunt.  Judging  from  the  num- 
ber before  us,  we  have  no  hesitation  in 
pronoun/cing  our  ppinion,  that  the  me- 
rits of  the  work  will  far  exceed  the 
anticipations  of  even  those  who  have 
^,a4  a  foretaste  o   Mr.  Hunt's  literary 


labours,  and  that  it  deserves,  and  we 
hope,  will  receive  a  patronage,  which 
shall  well  reward  its  editor.  Masonic 
brethren  in  particular,  should  contri- 
bute liberally  towards  the  support  of  a 
publication,  principally  designed  for 
their  improvement  and  instruction. 
The  ladies,  also,  are  especially  invited 
to  patronize  it ;  for  its  secondary  ob- 
ject, as  its  title  indicates,  is  their  edi- 
fication and  ansusement. 


FREE  MASONRY. 

HaU  glorioai  art :  to  mortals  given, 
To  teach  the  way  and  road  to  Heeves^ 

And  strew  the  path  with  sweets : 
'Tis  this  which  lifts  our  fallen  race, 
And  gives  to  man  an  angel's  place, 

Jf  he  the  offer  meets. 

'Tit  this  ennobles  human  kind; 
'Tis  architeotare  in  the  mind, 

And  prompts  the  generous  heart, 
To  square  each  thought, each  word  and  act; 
All  conscious  error  to  retract, 

And  take  a  brother's  part 

To  tread  the  path  the  sages  trod, 
Through  nature,  look  to  nature's  God, 

And  pwn  his  power  divine ; 
Contemplate  all  l^u  works  on  high, 
The  shining  tun  and  spangled  aky, 

And  trace  the  grand  design. 

Tliat  fills  immensity  of  space, 
With  beings  fitted  to  the  phtce. 

And  sphere  in  which  they  move ; 
Formed  man,  the  great  connecting  MnV, 
Of  distant  worlds,  with  power  to  tbiok, 

'^0  .enjoy,  adore,  an4  love. 

To  Joy  for  what  the  good  possess. 
On  want  and  virtue  in  digress, 

Pure  charity  bestow ; 
To  turn  affliction's  sighs  to  songs ; 
Protect  the  fair,  revenge  their  wroflgs. 

And  soothe  piB  bed  of  wo. 

To  form  a  pufe  fraternal  band, 
Taught  to  converse  and  understand, 

By  mystic  ^^bols  given ; 
To  enjoy  what  God  and  nature  give, 
To  teach  raaniind  the  art  to  live, 

And  render  earth  like  Heaven .      P.  G. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQlC 


HlSCELIiANSOUg. 


1^ 


MASONIC  SONO. 

Whilst  thy  genius,  O  Masoniy,  spreads  all 
arouod. 

The  rays  of  tbe  halo  with  which  then  art 
crowned ; 

Shall  the  jtor,  in  thy  sky,  which  now  rising 
appears. 

Not  partake  of  that  Ughty  that  grows  bright- 
er with  years  ? 
Shalt  its  portion  of  fire  be  left  to  ex- 


pire, 
lleav< 


And  leave  no  bright  trace  that  shall  l^d 

OS  admire  ? 
O  no,  its  mild  beams  shall  be  seen  from 

afor; 
And  the  child  of  distress  bless  the  new 

Biting  Star. 

hike  the  beams  of  that  ^tar,  which  of  old 

mark'd  the  way, 
And  led  where  of  peao«  the  sweet  Messen- 
ger lay. 
May  its  light,  still  to  virtue  and  Maaonry 

tme, 
Mark  the  path  that  with  strength  Wisdom 
bids  OS  pursue ; 
As  its  beams,  unconfined,  illumine  the 

mind 
With  pleasure  that  leaves  no  sad  feeling 

behind; 
The  jewel  oC  beauty  glows  bright,  and 

its  ray 
Makes  Griefs  gloomy  night  fly  from 
Joy*s  radiant  day. 

As  the  blush  of  the  rose  more  enchanting 

appears, 
When  iti  sweet  leaves  are  fiU'd  with  the 

mom*s  pearly  tears ; 
So  from  gratitude's  tears  shall  our  Star  rise 

more  br^;ht ; 
For  Charity's  smile  shall  give  warmth  te 
its  light. 
And  Justice  divine  shall  with  Harmony 

join. 
To  assist  its  ascent  by  the  unerring  line. 
Whilst  Prudence  and  Temperance  guard- 

ine  their  own. 
Shall  shed  a  new  ray  upon  Masonry's 
crown. 


DncD — In  Chillicothe,  on  the  5th  of 
September,  Jason  Kklloog,  Esq.  of 
Hampton,  Washington  county,  New- 
York,  in  the  68th  year  of  his  age. 
Tbe  deceased  was  on  a  visiting  tour, 
in  the  state  of  Ohio^  and  while  at 
ChiUlcothe,  was  taken  sick,  and  died. 
On  the  6th  a  large  concourse,  of  peo- 
pte^  accompanied  by  his  masonic  bre- 


thren, assembled  to  perform  the  lest 
tad  offices  of  friendship,  for  a  respect^ 
ed  stranger. — Olive  Branch. 

'  i      1  "   in 

MISCELLANEOUS. 

■>— ■       ■       * »      ■■    > 

FOH  TBS   MaSOHIC  RKGlffTSa. 

THE  EXILE,  No.  II. 

Mr.  PaATT, 

You  will  recollect  that  I  informed 
you,  in  the  last  number  of  the  Regis- 
ter, that  becoming  much  fatigued  for 
want  of  rest,  and  feeling  disgusted  with 
the  scene  of  ingratitude  which  my  re- 
flections by  the  window  had  developed, 
I  retired  to  my  couch,  in  order  that  I 
might  enjoy  that  repose  which  my 
mind  as  well  as  body^  so  much  stood 
in  need  of.  I  soon  dropped  into  a 
sleep,  which,  although  it  gave  ease  to 
my  body,  did  not  culeviate  my  mind 
from  the  gloomy  train  of  reflections 
which  I  had  experienced  while  awake. 
I  had  not  been  long  asleep  before  the 
unsolicited  and  ever-meddling  visitant 
of  the  night,  in  one  of  his  nocturnal 
perambulations,  presented  to  my  view 
one  of  the  most  interesting  and  melan- 
choly scenes  which  I  bad  ever  beheld. 

It  appeared  to  me,  that  as  I  was 
walking  in  the  company  of  a  friend^ 
through  one  of  the  principal  streets  of 
our  city,  at  a  very  early  hour,  for  the 
purpose  of  enjoying  the  salubrity  of 
the  morning  air,  and  with  whom  I  was 
most  earnestly  conversing  about  the 
passing  events  of  life,  when  presque 
tout  $une  coupj  we  were  met  by  a 
venerable  looking  gentleman,  who  aio 
costed  us  with  a  <^good  morning  !''— 
We  replied;  and  the  usual  eomplf- 
ments  «f  the  morning  having  passed^ 
we  were  about  to  resume  our  prome- 
nade, when  he  very  anxiously  ini|uiF- 
ed,  whether  we  did  not  intend  to  at- 
tend the  9ale?  To  which  it  was  an- 
swered, we  did  not  know  to  what 
sale  he  alluded.  Is  it  possible?  said 
he,  I  thought  every  body  knew  that 

Mr. ^s  goods,  furniture,  librirjr^ 

school-fixtures^.  ^^  ^u  wm  t#  be 

Jigitized  by  VjOOQ  IC 


20 


MfSCKLLANEOU^. 


ioW  this  day,  at  10  o'clock.  We  as- 
sured  him,  we  had  not  heard  of  it,  and 
remonstrated  against  the  propriety  of 
attending,  inasmuch  as  it  would  have 
the  appeartmce  of  wishing  to  obtain  a 
person's  property,  who  had  been  un» 
fortttnatCy  for  less  than  its  real  value : 
*  Oh !"  said  he,  ^  we^  (meaning  him- 
self and  partner)  intend  to  purchase 
the  u^Uj  and  let  him  have  it  again, 
9nd  for  that  purpose  we  have  been  col- 
lecting money  for  several  days  past : 
I  think  we  can  do  no  less,  for  you 
know,  he  has  been  one  of  our  htst 
friends j.  and  as  he  has  so  frequently 
assisted  u^,  when  we  were  in  the  back 
ground^  by  lending  us  money,  and  his 
tutme  for  the  security  of  our  rent,  we 
intend,  in  our  turn,  to  extend  the  hand 
of  generosity,  buy  the  furniture,  tod 
set  the  old  soldier  on  his  legs  again. 
This,  you  know,  gentlemen,  will  be 
doing  him  and  hi^  family  a  great  kind- 
ness ;  and  as  we  have  ^  the  best  school 
in  the  city,'  and  are  doing  business 
rapidly,  the  world  will  call  it  a  noble 
action.''  At  these  words  he  left  us, 
and  we  walked  on.  I  must  confess, 
that  whatever  might  have  been  the 
feelings  of  my  friend,  my  heart  beat 
with  transports  at  the  idea,  that  this 
man  was  again  about  to  be  placed  in 
a  situation,  where  be  might  defend  his 
reputation  against  the  aspersions  of 
his  enemies,  and  provide  for  the  wants 
of  bis  sick  and  distressed  family ;  the 
more  especially,  when  I  considered 
that  in  all  probability,  he  had  been  re- 
duced to  his  present  embarrassed  situ- 
ation, in  consequence  of  the  great  losses 
he  had  sustained  in  the  general  depre- 
ciation of  property,  botli  within  and 
Out  of  the  city. 

Yet,  notwithstanding  the  sudden  joy 
which'  I  felt j  on  being  assured  that  he 
was  to  receive  his  furniture  again,  my 
mind  had  so  far  wandered,  as  to  take 
a  retrospect  of  his  former  situation, 
and  having  faintly  contrasted  it  with 
tixe  present  J  it  gradually  became  ab- 
soi^bcd  in  a  deep  and  pensive  melan- 
chdjy ;  and  w.e  heedlessly  passed  along 
^itlWut  noticing  whither  wo  were  trav- 


elling, until  the  noise  which  ever  af^ 
tends  the  bustle  of  the  city,  at  tbis^ 
hour  in  the  morning,  had  ceased  to 
vibrate  in  our  ears.  The  fertSe  gar- 
dens, covered  with  the  rich  vegetables 
which  supply  our  market,  and  the 
wide-spreading  fields,  with  here  and 
there  a  solitary  house,  sorrounded  with 
towering  trees,  whose  loflty  branches 
were  bending  under  the  luxuriant  foli- 
age of  nature,  appeared  in  full  view, 
on  our  right  and  on  our  left,  and  geat- 
ly  reminded  us  that  we  had  amhuik- 
ingly  wandered  beyotid  the  skirts  of 
the  city. 

The  beautiful  Hudson,  whose  smooth 
surface  was  covered  with  Innuinerable 
vessels,  plying  to  and  from  the  city, 
and  from  which  no  noise  was  heard, 
save  the  shrill  echo  of  '^  helm  alee," 
rolled  its  green  waters  in  silent  majesty 
before  us.  Invited  to  a  rural  declivity 
which  appeared  on  one  of  its  banks, 
and  wishing  a  little  recess  from  the 
fatigues  of  a  walk  which  had  been  ^us 
far  protracted  beyond  our  previous  in- 
tentions, we  voluntarily  seated  our- 
selves under  a  beautiful  oak,  whose 
wide-spreading  branches  secluded  os 
from  the  piercing  rays  of  tlie  sun,  that 
had  just  ascended  above  the  eastern 
horizon,  and  gave  us  a  free  oppdrtti- 
nity  for  contemplating  the  variegated 
beauties  of  nature.  In  this  retreat  we 
were  fanned  by  the  refreshing  breezes 
that  were  gently  passing  down  the 
river,  and  which  gave  vigour  to  oor 
weary  limbs. 

After  sitting  a  few  moments  in  si- 
lence, my  friend  eagerly  inquired, 
whether  I  could  inform  him,  as  to  die 
causes  of  Mr.  — -'s  embarrassments, 
observing,  that  he  could  not  but  e\* 
press  his  surprise,  that  a  man  of  his 
standing  in  society,  who  had  so  lately 
enjoyed  the  respect  and  good  opinion 
of  all  classes  of  the  community,  and 
whose  long  and  arduous  labours  in  so 
necessary  and  perplexing  a  busiuess, 
had  so  extensively  received  the  appro- 
bation of  tlie  public,  and  consequently 
entitled  him  to  their  esteem;  that^ 
should  be  permitted-to  wean  over  the 


SliaC£li&ANCOUS* 


2i 


^trifice  and  destruction  of  his  own 
Itireitare,'  at  a  public  and  forced  sale. 
There  is  something  in  it,  said  he^  al 
whiefa  the  human  mind  naturally  re- 
coils, as  if  there  ma«,  somewhere, 
have  been  deception  practised,  or  as 
if  the  instigators  of  this  distress  were 
coo  much  influenced  by  selfish  prin- 
ciples. 

At  which  I  replied,  I  could  not  an- 
swer as  to  the  cause  of  his  embarrass- 
ment, butfrom  the  wide  field  of  conjec- 
ture.    It  was  certain  that  he  had  been 
extensively  engaged  in  the  business  of 
instruction,  and  the  emoluments  aris- 
ing therefrom  must  have  been  very 
considerable  ^  added  to  which  lie  had 
been,  for  the  last  two  years,  engaged 
hi  the  publication  of  his  own  books, 
which  always  found  a  ready  market, 
And  of  course  must  ensure  a  very  hand- 
some profit.  It  is  passing  strange,  urged 
my  fnend,  that  white  hCy  the  original 
proprietor  of  so  large  a  school,  has 
been  growing  poor^  those  around  him 
have,  apparently,  been  getting  rich^ 
it  would  seem,  contunied  he,    that 
where  all  were  engaged  in  the  same 
concern,  all  should  have  experienced 
the  same  ratio  of  gain. 

Thus  we  continued  in  conversation, 
under  the  shade  of  this  delightful  oak, 
till  our  watches  admonished  us,  that 
it  was  neaHy  time  to  repair  to  the 
auction.  We  arrived  in  season  to  wit- 
ness the  sale  of  the  property,  which 
was  bought  at  a  very  reduced  price ; 
but  instead  of  being  returned,  as  we 
expected,  to  its  original  owner,  a  num- 
ber of  carts  were  procured,  and  it  soon 
disappeared  from  our  viow.  The  con- 
fusion which  immediately  followed,  in 
consequence  of  the  crowd^s  retiring, 
was  such,  that  it  caused  me  to  awake, 
and  I  felt  thankful  that  it  was  only  a 
dream.  justitia. 


PROM  THE  VPPBR  CANADA  miU.LD. 

M.  LAVALETTE. 
We  have  received  the  following  in- 
teresting statement  from  a  correspond- 
ent of  undoubted  veracity.    The  pno« 


ciples  and  reasoning  adopted  In  if  ef 
course  belong  to  the  writer  only. 

The  return  of  this  individual  to  that 
«oontry  on  the  soil  of  which,  lie  was 
condemned  but  six  years  since  to  shed 
his  blood  under  the  axe  of  the  law,  is 
one  of  the  many  examples  which  his- 
tory offers,  IB  the  interest  of  humanity^ 
to  check  the  indulgence  of  vindic- 
tive passions  in  the  moments  of  politi- 
cal anarchy,  and  allow  time  for  the  res- 
toration of  the  empire  of  justice  under 
the  auspices  of  truth  and  mercy. 

Monsieur  Lavalette  was  charged  mth 
the  crime  of  high  treason,  for  resum- 
ing Ihs  functions  as  Post  Master  Gene- 
ral, immediately  after  the  departure  of 
the  king  from  Paris,  and  brfore  Bona- 
parte had  entered  Paris,  and  reinvest- 
ed him  with  that  appointment. 

This  was  the  charge  on  which  he 
was  tried :  but  the  true  motive  of  his 
prosecution  was  a  belief  that  he  bad 
conducted  a  correspondence  between 
the  island  of  Elba,  and  encouraged  the 
retunvof  the  former  sovereign,  his  ben- 
efactor, and  his  refotion  by  marriage. 

Monsieur  Lavalette,  when  placed  on 
the  proscription  list,  was  offered  bj 
Fouche  a  passport  to  quit  the  French 
territory.  He  refesed  to  aApt  it ;  and 

1  confiding  in  his  innocence,  and  further 
protected  by  the  convention  of  Paris,  he 
voluntarily  presented  himself  as  a  pri- 
soner to  the  constituted  authorities; 
but  it  was  not  till  the  renewal  of  his  ap- 
plication that  the  gates  of  the  Concier- 
gerie  closed  on  him. 

He  was  tried,  condemned,  and  or- 
dered for  execution. 

The  subsequent  transactions  which 
effected  his  release  a  few  hours  before 
the  consummation  of  his  sentence,  and 
secured  ultimatelv  his  escape  from 
France,  are  well  known. 

Madame  Lavalette,  however,  be- 
came tlie  victim  of  her  generous  devo- 
tion ;  she  had,  to  save  her  husband,  ris- 
en from  a  bed  in  which  she  had  endur- 
ed the  affliction  of  loosing  by  miscar- 
riage an  only  son.  This  effort,  and 
the  anxieties  of  her  mind,  followed  by 
a    long   confinement,   impaired    h<T 


Tl 


MlSCSLLANSOUf. 


health,  and  produced  alienations  of 
her  mental  faculties. 

Touched  by  these  misfortunes,  and 
convinced,  no  doubt,  of  the  innocence 
of  M.  Lavalette,  the  king,  about  a  year 
since,  signed  the  act  of  grace  which 
cancelled  the  former  proceedings,  and 
re-established  Mons.  Lavalette  in  ail 
his  rights  as  a  French  citizen. 

It  was  not,  however,  till  a  few^lays 
since,  that  a  passport  for  his  return  t« 
France  was  granted.  Prerious  to  his 
departure  from  Augsburg,  Monsieur 
Lavalette  considered  it  to  be  his  duty 
to  publish  the  following  declaration, 
to  the  asseverations  of  which  alt 
those  who  know  the  private  virtues  of 
Mons.  Lavalette  will  not  hesitate  to 
give  implicit  credence,  and  to  which 
only  the  most  ungenerous  pblitical  en- 
emies (for  Mons.  Lavalette  never  bad 
a  persona]  one)  can  refuse  his  confi- 
dence : — 

DECLARATION. 

<*  In  presence  of  Almighty  God, the 
avenger  of  perjury,  I  dedarc  that  dur- 
ing the  eleven  months  of  the  year  1814 
I  never  had  any  correspondence,  direct 
or  indirect,  with  any  of  the  persons 
who  inhabited  the  Island  of  Elba  at 
that  epochj^nd  that  I  never  caused  any 
letter  lo  be  written,  nor  received  any 
letter  from  them. 

« I  declare  that  I  never  sent,  nor 
oaused  any  one  to  be  sent,  to  the  Isl- 
and of  Elba ;  finally,that  I  was  an  entire 
stranger  to  those  events  which  prepa- 
red and  consummated  the  enterprisa 
of  the  20th  March,  1815.  I  make 
this  public  declaration  volimtarily, 
without  being  moved  to  it  by  any  ar- 
riercpensee ;  without  being  instigated 
by  any  feeling  of  resentment,  but  only 
in  the  interest  of  truth.  I  had  resolved 
to  read  it  aloud  on  the  scaffold,  and  to 
place  it  in  the  hands  of  the  attending 
ecclesiastic ;  and,  I  require  that  it  may 
be  presented  to  me  again  for  signattu'e 
at  tlie  last  moment  of  my  life. 

«  M.  M.  LAVALETTE. 
"14th  May,  1821." 
•  "  Except  the  letter  of  compliment  on 
Mw-ycar^sday,  that  1  m>'sclf  eommooicated 
to  roy  judgea,"  % 


CUBE  FOR  THE  GONSUMFTKW. 

An  officer  who  had  a  consumptive 
complaint  in  his  breast,  was  dissmviog 
over  a  jchaffing-dish  d  fire  in  a  very 
close  room  an  equal  quantity  of  white 
pitch  and  yellow  bees  wax,  with  an 
intention  of  soldering  some  bottles ;  and 
after  having  breathed  some  time  intbe 
vapour  rising  from  it,  he  found  the  com- 
plaint in  his  breast  greatly  relieved. 
This  observation,  extremely  interest* 
ing  to  himself,  determined  htm  to  con- 
tinue the  same  fumigation  some  days. 
He  soon  perceived  a  very  considerable 
amendment,  and  at  length  was  entirely 
cured. 

This  cure  was  much  talked  of— 
•Madame  la  Margrave  de  Bade  was  in- 
formed of  it;  and  she  was  desiroos 
that  a  trial  might  be  made  of  this  rem- 
edy, in  Dourlach's  hospital,  upon  asd« 
dier  whose  life  was  despaired  of. — 
The  success  equalled  every  hope  that 
could  be  conceived^  and  the  patient 
was  perfectly  cured.  In  consequence 
of  which,  the  princess  gave  orders  that 
the  fact  should  be  published  in  the 
Carlshue  Gazette.  The  same  pubfic 
paper  confirms  this  recital ;  adding  that 
this  remedy  has  been  experienced  widi 
equal  benefit  by  several  persons  who 
were  attacked  with  <;omplaints  in  the 
breast ;  and  that  many,  even  when  their 
lungs  were  ulcerated,  and  who  were 
entirely  given  over,  had  been  cured  by 
this  simple  remedy. 

It  should  be  observed,  that  the  room 
in  which  fumigation  is  to  be  formed, 
ought  to  be  very  closely  shut  up,  and 
that  the  person  should  walk  about  to 
suck  in  the  vapour  by  degrees. 


NATURAL  cuKiosrrr. 

During  the  month  of  June  last,  it 
was  noticed  by  some  of  the  domestics 
in  the  family  of  Mr.  P.  Hasbrouck,  a 
worthy  farmer  in  the  town  of  New- 
Pa  Itz,  in  the  county  of  Ulster,  state  of 
New-York,  that  a  black  cock  turkey 
became  from  day  to  day  very  trouble- 
some in  a  pen  where  a  hen  of  his  spe- 


MISCEU^ANBOVS. 


23 


appeared  extremely  anxioas  to  conciU 
iate  the  good  will  of  the  young,  and  by 
way  of  manifestiog  his  paternal  be- 
nignity, he  frequently  squatted  down 
and  gathered  tbem  under  his  wings. 
As  his  modesty,  however,  did  not  ex- 
tend 80  far  as  to  stint  him  in  the  in- 
dulgence of  his  voracious  appetite,with 
the  food  which  at  intervals  was  thrown 
into  the  pen  for  the  consumption  of  the 
brood,  it  was  deemed  a  measure  of  ne- 
cessity to  imprison  the  poor  fellow  in 
a  kind  of  sty,  where  one  of  the  hens 
had  hatched.  The  loss  of  liberty  seem- 
ed, at  first,  greatly  to  affect  him  ;  but 
like  William  Cobbett,  Sir  Francis  Bur- 
dett,  and  other  eminent  prisoners  of 
the  human  species,  he  was  not  long  in 
forming  a  scheme  to  divert  his  mind 
during  the  solitary  hours  of  his  confine- 
ment.   Fortune,  it  seems,  in  one  of 
her  capricious  humours,  had  preserved 
the  addle  eggs  in  the  old  nest  of  his 
prison,  and  upon  these  eggs,  without 
more  ado,  he  carefully  settled  down. 

When  he  bad  thus  hatched  away 
two  tedious  weeks  upon  eggs  that  were 
destined  never  to  fulfil  his  hopes,  his 
mistress,  in  pay  for  the  motherly  soli- 
citude evmced  by  him,  removed  the 
two  addle  eggs,  and  filled  his  nest  with 
upwards  of  twenty  fresh  ones  from  the 
common  dunghill  fowl.    Upon  these 
eggs  he  continued  to  hatch  with  the 
saaiegood  faith  and  an^ety,  pecking 
violently  any  thin£  that  was  thrust  into 
the  sty  to  disturb  him,  till  at  length,  in 
dUte  seastmy  he  had  the  happiness  to 
find  his  uncommon  care  rewarded  by 
the  production  of  a  large  and  beautiful 
brood  of  chickens.    It  was  now  that 
all  the  finer  feelings  of  his  nature  ap- 
peared to  be  called  forth.    He  guard- 
ed, and  still  continues  to  guard,  with 
ever-watchful  eye,  the  Welfare  of  his 
little  flock:  gathering  them  carefully 
under  his  wings  at  night — scratching 
the  earth  with  bii  long  black  legs  in 
search  of  food — taking  up  the  grains 
in  his  bill,  and  dropping  them  again 
when  he  has  called  his  troop  together 
by  a  sort  of  sharp  clucking,  similar  to 
fbatofthcheo. 


In  a  word,  this  black  cock«turkeT| 
with  a  brood  of  twenty-two  fine  chick- 
ens following  him  with  filial  attention 
over  the  farm-yard,  exhibits  a  phenom- 
enon upon  which  the  naturalist  may 
gaze  with  wonder  and  delight. 

Craftsman. 


CHIVALRY. 

A  young  lady  was  lately  escorted 
through  the  village  of  Manlius,  in  the 
state  of  New-Yorii,  by  professor  Tip- 
staff, on  her  way  to  the  county  jail ; 
for  what  offence,  or  upon  what  authori- 
ty, we  have  not  learnt.  The  only  crime 
that  we  have  heard  charged  was,  that 
the  maiden  had  cast  off  her  calicoes, 
crapes  and  Leghorns,  and  assumed  the 
cossack  pantaloons,  the  starched  cra- 
vat, the  dandy  coat,  and  hat !  Nor 
do  we  see  any  great  fault  worthy 
of  bonds  or  death  in  all  this  I  The 
damsel  has  an  unquestionable  right  to 
flirt  in  gauze  and  silks,  or  strut  in  buck- 
ram and  boots,  as  best  suits  her  fancy. 
We  should  like  to  be  informed  under 
what  statute  the  squire  acted  in  cont- 
mtting  the  nymph.  It  is  believed  the 
doughty  magistrate  has  stretched  the 
"  little  brief  outhority^^  wherewithal 
he  is  clothed.  If  all  the  ladies  who 
are  in  the  habit  of  wearing  the  breech- 
es, mustbe  justled  off  to  prison  in  this 
manner,  it  behooves  our  good  matrons 
to  keep  an  eye  to  the  windward  I 
ManUua  paper. 

PIOMINGO  AND  THE  MODERX  ACA- 
DEMICUN'. 

Extracted  from  an  American  original  work 
entitled  "  The  Savage;"  in  which  the  au- 
thor has  happHy  hit  off  many  fashiona- 
ble foibles  ol  civilized  life.  The  laughable 
character  of  Dicky  OabbU  alone,  proves 
it  to  be  the  work  of  a  master  who  paints 
from  real  life.  Parents  cannot  pay  too 
much  attention  to  the  Khoolman  and  the 
taehem.  Piomingo  has  brought  him  to 
an  honest  confession^  and  after  this,  si 
populos  volt  decipiy  decipiatur. 

F.  M.  Mag. 
A  man  of  about  fifty  years  of  age 

came,  the  other  day,  into  our  study. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQiC 


MISCELLANEQLU' 


He  addressed  us  in  a  pompous,  formal 
manner,  and  desired  to  know  if  we 
iiad  a  family.  We  thought  k  a  little 
singular  that  a  stranger  should  take 
the  liberty  to  inquire  into  our  private 
concerns ;  therefore,  we  made  no  di- 
rect answer  to  his  authoritative  com- 
mand, b9t  desired  to  know,  in  our 
turn,  if  be  were  tatting  the  census. 
** No,  sir,"  said  be,  "I  am  a  school- 
naster ;  and  as  you  have  lately  settled 
tn  our  Qeighbourhood,  I  did  not  know 
imt  yeu  might  have  some  children  tq  j 
whom  you  might  wish  to  give  a  Chris-  [ 
tian  education.  You  are,  yourself,  | 
they  tell  ijoe,  a  savage ;  and  it  is  likely  | 
you  will  not  be  disposed  to  give  up  I 
the  gods  of  your  fathers,  in  your  old  \ 
age ;  but  you  could  form  no  objection, 
i  should  think,  to  the  plan  of  having 
your  children  instnicted  in  the  benign 
principles  of  the  gospel.  However,  if 
yo«  are  conscientious  in  thp.se  things, 
1  will  not  undertake  to  interpose  with 
mv  advice.  I  am  a  Christian ;  you  are 
a  heathen :  and  each  has  a  right  to 
-enjoy  his  respective  opinions;  but  we 
may  do  each  other  a  good  turn  not- 
^vitlistanding.  Send  your  sons  to  my 
select  academy  for  young  gadlemen  ; 
and  I  promise,  upon  my  honour,  that 
you  will  have  no  reason  to  repent 
that  you  have  placed  tliem  under  my 
tare.  Furnish  them  with  a  sav(fge 
Xatechismy  containing  the  principles  of 
)he  Muscogulgec  religion ;  and  I  shall 
use  the  same  exertions  to  have  them 
carefully  instructed  in  the  doctrines  of 
your  savage  forefathers,  that  I  do  to 
Lave  my  other  pupils  imbued  with  the 
principles  ofChristianity.'' 

Piommgo.  You  are  very  accom- 
modating,  indeed,  my  friend;  but  will 
yon  not  find  it  a  little  difficult  to  incul- 
cate, at  one  moment,  on  certam  of 
your  scliolars,  the  necessity  of  believ- 
ing in  the  Indian  doctrines  as  the  dic- 
tates of  eternal  truth;  and  the  next 
instant,  to  inform  another  set  of  your 
disciples,  that  what  you  had  just  be- 
fore been  dictating  was  a  mere  fiction, 
and  totally  unworthy  of  credit  ? 

t^ckoolmaster.  Not  at  all ;  I  should 


consider  myself,  tn  tiiat  case^  as  < 
instrument  which  you  had  thoc^iit 
proper  to  employ  for  the  puipase  of 
infusing  into  the  minds  of  your  oflf- 
spring  those  principles  that  best 
pleased  you. 

Fiomingo,  You  form  a  very  correct 
idea  of  tlie  nature  of  your  employ- 
ment.    Pray  what  do  you  teach  ? 

Schoolma^er.  At  my  seki;t  acad- 
emy  r- 

Piomingo*  Pardon  me,  my  dear  sir^ 
for  the  present  interruption — what  do 
you  mean  by  academy  ?  Do  you  io- 
struct  your  scholars  in  a  place  reseni- 
bling  the  inclosure  where  Plato  taught 
philosophy,  on  the  banks  of  tbeJDyssus? 

Schoolmaster,  Plato!  I  have  not 
read  Plato  since  I  was  a  boy :  O,  now 
I  remember,  he  was  a  celebrated 
schoolmaster :  he  taught  an  academy 
at  Athens.  Academy,  sir,  is  the  Latia 
for  school.  No  genteel  teacher  noir 
ever  nciakes  use  of  the  word  sckooL 
We  have  nothing  but  academies : 
dancing,  drawing,  riding,  fencing  aca- 
demies; and  academies  for  the  io- 
struction  of  young  ladies  and  gentle- 
men, in  all  the  branches  of  polite  and 
useful  literature. 

Piomingo^  Thank  you,  air:  you 
have  satbfied  me  on  that  point.  You 
were  about  to  inform  me,  what  branch- 
es were  taught  in  your  select  academy 
for  the  instruction  of  young  gentlemen* 

Schoolmaster.  Yes,  sir :  at  my  le- 
lect  academy  for  the  instructioa  of 
young  gentlemen,  are  taught  reading, 
chirography,  arithmetic,  bo<^-keep- 
ing,  geography  with  the  use  of  the 
globes,  maps  and  charts,  mensuratioa 
of  superficies  and  solids,  longimetry, 
altimetry,  gauging,  algebra,  geometry, 
trigonometry,  surveying,  navigatioa 
with  solar,  lunar  and  astral  observa- 
tions, English  grammar,  rhetoric, 
composition,  logic,  history,  chronoio- 
py,  mythology,  phUol<^,  natural  pfai- 
fosophy,  astronomy,  and,  in  fine,  eve* 
ry  branch  of  polite,  elegant,  and  useful 
literature.    Here  is  one  of  my  carcis. 

Piomingo*  You  promise  very  fair : 
you  may  consider  me  as  a  standiuf 

Digitized  by  VjOOQiC 


mSCSLLANBOUI.. 


S5 


subscriber  to  yowr  school — your  9elect 
academy,  I  meao.  I  think  it  my  duty 
to  eocourage  a  man  of  your  extraordi- 
laury  endowmeots ;  but — 

Schoolmaster.  You  may  rest  assur- 
ed, my  de«*  sir,  that  every  attention, 
within  the  Bmits  of  my  power,  shall 
be  paid  to  the  yocrag  Muscogulgee 
geotlemeD,  your  soas,  whom  you  are 
about  to  trust  to  my  care.  I  promise 
you  sincer^y,  Mr.  Piomingo,  that  I 
never  will  abuse  miy  confidence  that 
is  placed  io  me.  1  consider  it  as  a 
sacred  duty,  which  I  owe  to  my  pa* 
trons,  to  my  country,  and  to  myself, 
that  my  pupils  should  be,  not  only  en- 
couraged in  the  pursuit  of  elegant  aad 
tf^eftfF learning;  but  that  their  man* 
ners  should  1^  formed  in  the  most 
genteel  style,  and  their  morals  sedu- 
lously guarded  from  every  species  of 
contamination.  Here  is  a  copy  of  my 
rules.  How  many  of  the  young 
gentlemen  do  you  propose  sending  to 
my  select  academy  ? 

Piomingo.    I  liave  not  any  to  send. 

Schoolmaeter.    Sir ! 

Piomingo.  If  you  think  proper  to 
comply  with  a  requisition  I  am  about 
to  niake,  I  wiU  consider  myself  as  an- 
sweraUe  to  you  for  the  price  of  tuition 
of  two  scholars,  as  long  as  we  continue 
jieighbours.  I  wish  to  learn  some  of 
the  secrets  of  your  profession :  there 
are,  you  know,  secrets  belonging  to 
every  trade ;  and  I  would  gladly  inform 
myself  of  the  nature  of  the  system  of 
education  which  k  encouraged  by  the 
iUuminati  of  this  flourishing  city.  No 
^sadvantage  can  arise  from  your  pla- 
cing this  confidence  in  me :  1  give  you 
my  savage  word,  that  I  will  never  be- 
come your  rival.  Now,  if  yon  feel 
disposed  to  gratify  my  curiosity,  you 
may  consider  me  as  one  of  the  most 
zealous  of  your  patrons. 

Schoolmaster  (after  a  pause.)  Sir, 
you  are  right,  when  you  suppose  that 
we  gentlemen  of  the  abecedarian  de- 
partment of  literature  have  fittle  pro- 
fessional secrets.  Such  is  the  fact: 
but  it  is  to  be  observed  in  our  favoinr^ 
that  we  are  forced  into  this  line  of 

VOL.  II.  4 


conduct  by  our  employers  tbemsdves. 
When  we  dealt  honestly  and  openly 
with  them,  we  were  in  continual  dan- 
ger of  starvation ;  but  since  we  hai 
recourse  to  the  arts  of  deception,  we 
find  teaching  a  very  profitable  bust* 
ness.  When  men  are  desirous  of  be^ 
ii^  deceived,  and  hold  out  a  reward 
for  those  who  become  dexterous  im- 
postors, why  should  they  not  be  gra- 
tified in  so  reasonable  an  expectation  ? 
I  should  be  very  sorry  to  be  so  candid 
with  every  one;  but  as  I  percdvethsit 
you  have  too  much  penetration  to  be 
deceived  by  a  string  of  high  sounding 
words,  and  that  you  already  have  a 
tolerable  idea  of  the  nature  of  those 
arts  by  which  we  guO  the  wise  men  of 
the  ear^,  I  shall  not  hesitate  to  give 
you  every  informatioa  you  may  re- 
quire. 

Piomingo-  Will  you  be  so  good  as 
to  inform  me  why  all  the  schools,  or 
academies  in  the  city,  are  denominated 
select* 

Schoolmaster.  By  that,  sir,  we  inti* 
mate  to  the  public,  that  we  teach  only 
the  children  of  the  opulent;  and  in  a 
country  where  nothing  is  found  to 
confer  respect  or  celebrity  but  the  idea 
of  wealth,  it  gives  an  air  of  gentility  to 
our  institutions,  which  we  find  highly 
useful :  hundreds  will  send  to  Mr. 
Birch's  select  academy,  who  would 
have  treated  Thomas  Birch  and  his 
school  with  the  ittmost  contempt. 
Multitudes,  who,  by  the  mean  grovel- 
ling arts  now  in  use,  have  added  cent 
to  cent,  until  they  have  amassed  a 
considerable  sum,  are  eager  to  shake 
off  and  foreet  the  vulgarity  of  their 
origin,  by  giving  their  offspring  what 
they  odl  a  genteel  education.  They 
are  straining  after  that  undefinabje 
something  ealled  ion:  and  we  find  ii 
to  our  advanti^e  to  encourage  this 
propensity  in  our  patrons. 

Piommgo.    What  is  ton  ? 

SchMdnuister.  The  question  is  easi- 
ly adied;  but  I  shall  find  it  difficult  to 
give  you  a  satisfactory  answer.  It  is 
something  of  which  we^viay  form  a 
cenfosed  idea:  b 

Jigmzed 


,^'CT^fJ^l^'^'''' 


26 


MiSCELLAJSKOUS. 


impossible  to  deicribt.  It  is  like  the 
unm  and  thummm  on  the  breastplate 
of  tlie  Jewish  high-priest:  volumes 
have  been  written  to  throw  light  oo 
the  subject ;  but  it  is  still  involved  in 
darkness  and  mystery.  Among  the 
modems  it  is  always  found  to  accom- 
pany opulence  and  splendour.  It  is  a 
kind  Of  glory,  which  surrounds  the 
head  of  die  golden  caff,  which  is  set 
up  as  the  object  of  universal  adoration. 

Piommgo,  Tlie  enviable  few,  who 
have  acquired  the  high  polish  you 
speak  of,  may  be  known,  I  suppose, 
by  their  ease  of  deportment,  concili- 
ating address,  and  suavity  of  manners. 

Schoolmaster.  Permit  me  to  set 
you  right  there,  sir :  among  us,  arro- 
gance, pride,'  and  brutality  of  manners, 
wre  reckoned  emifiently  genteel.  The 
graces  apd  courtesies,  to  which  you 
allude,  are  absolutely  unknown  among 
the  gay  toorld  of  a  commercial  city. 

Piomingo.  How  is  English  £ram- 
roar  taught  in  the  select  academies  of 
Philaderphia? 

Schoolmaster.  Why,  sir,  it  became 
fashionable,  a  few  years  ago,  to  talk 
about  English  grammar.  We  imme- 
diately took  the  hint :  and  since  that 
time  English  grammar  has  been  taught 
in  all  our  select  academies. 

Piomingo.  Do  you  understand  what 
you  profess  to  teach  ? 

Schoolmaster.  Understand !  not  at 
all:  it  would  be  hard  indeed,  if  we 
were  obliged  to  learn  every  thing  we 
profess  to  teach !  Why,  sir,  we  lay  it 
down  as  a  universal  rule,  never  to  ap-  I 
pear  iporant  of  any  thing.  You  may 
observe  that,  in  my  advertisements, 
1  do  not  profess  to  teach  the  Greek 
and  Latin  languages :  you  are  not  to 
suppose  that  I  therefore  acknowledge 
myself  to  be  ignorant  of.  those  lan- 
guages. By  no  means.  Should  any 
one  express  an  inclination  to  have  his 
son  instructed  in  Hebrew,  Greek,  or 
Latin,  I  immediately  reply,  ^  My  dear 
sir,  I  should  be  very  happy  to  have  a 
class  of  young  gentlemen,  to  whom  I 
might  give^  ^traction  in  those  lan- 
guages; but  they  have  become  quite 


unfashionable  of  late.  Gentlemen  of 
the  first  respectability  in  the  chy^ 
whose  sons  are  of  course  designed  for 
the  mercantile  profession,  inform  me 
that  they  find  a  knowledge  of  the  dead 
languages  altogether  ti«e^«.  They  are 
therefore  determined  that  their  sons 
shall  not  be  impeded  in  the  acquisi- 
tion of  useful  information  by  filling 
their  heads  with  such  antiquated  ml^ 
bish."  Now,  as  the  business  of  a 
merchant  is  the  object  of  universal 
ambition  with  this  money4oving  peo- 
ple, 1  always  find  this  answer  perfect- 
ly satisfactory  and  decisive.  But  I 
believe  you  spoke  of  English  gram- 
mar in  particidar. 

Piomingo.    Yes,  sir. 

Schoolmaster.  As  to  grammar,  I 
have  taught  it  in  my  select  academy 
these  seven  or  eight  years^  but  if  there 
be  any  sense  in  it,  I  must  acknowledge 
I  have  never  found  it  out.  I,  bow- 
ever,  teach  my  pupils  to  repeat  a  long 
story  about  nouns,  pronouns,  verbs, 
participles,  &c.,  and  this  answers  eve- 
ry purpose.  None  of  my  employers 
are  able  to  detect  the  impoaitioo. 
The  young  gentlemen  can  tell  bow 
many  parts  of  speech  there  are ;  talk 
of  nouns  common  and  proper,  of  tran- 
sitive and  intransitive  verbs :  but  upon 
my  honour,  sir,  they  have  no  more 
idea  of  the  meaning  of  what  they  re- 
peat, than  I  have  of  the  antedUuviaos. 
And  then  it  is  diverting  to  observe 
how  the  fond  parents  are  gratified  by 
this  display  of  the  grammatical  knowl- 
edge of  their  promising  oflspring ;  and 
how  the  fame  of  the  teacher  is  extend- 
ed by  the  philological  intelligence  of 
his  accomplished  scholars ! 

Piomingo,  Am  I  to  suppose  that 
you  are  equally  ignorant  of  the  other 
branches  taught  in  your  select  acade- 
my? 

Schoolmaster.  No :  I  can  read  tol- 
erably well ;  but  it  must  be  granted  at 
the  same  time,  that  I  am  very  apt 
to  make  risible  blunders  in  pronun- 
ciation. However,  where  one  reads 
better,  five  hundred  read  worse  than 
I  do.    I  never  seen)  at  a  loss :  and  if 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


any  iDtelligent  person  should^  by  acci- 
dent, be  present,  and  attempt  to  cor- 
rect any  of  my  errors,  I  ]augh  at  his 
presumption ;  and,  as  there  is  always 
a  majority  of  fools  in  every  mixed 
company,  I  generally  come  ofl'  tri- 
umphant, I  write  a  good  hand ;  but  do 
not  spell  very  correctly-  I  under- 
stand as  much  arithmetic  as  is  usually 
taught  in  schools :  and  this  is  the  ex- 
tent of  my  scientifical  acquirements.  It 
must  be  remarked,  also,  that  in  the 
coursiB  of  a  long  life,  I  have  acquired 
a  smattering  in  various  departments 
of  literature,  which  enables  me  to  put 
on  the  appearance  of  wisdom,  and  to 
declaim  with  the  utmost  pomposity 
and  assurance.  I  can  talk  fluently  of 
fiAy  different  authors,  one  of  which  I 
have  never  read,  and  give  my  opinion 
of  their  merits  respectively.  I  know 
that  Homer  b  the  father  of  poetry; 
that  he  gives  an  account  of  the  heathen 
gods,  and  the  destruction  of  Troy; 
Uiat  he  wrote  In  Greek ;  that  he  was 
blind;  and  that  seven  cities  were, 
each,  emulous  of  being  considered  as 
the  place  of  his  birtk  I  know  that 
the  Iliad  is  more  animated  than  the 
Odyssey;  that  Achilles  was  fierce, 
and  Ulysses  crafty ;  that  the  siege  of 
Troy  was  continued  for  ten  years; 
and  that  the  wooden  horse  proved,  at 
last,  the  means  of  its  destiiiction. 

Should  any  one  desire  to  hear  my 
opinion  of  the  respective  merits  of 
Homer  and  Virgil,  I  give,  without 
hesitation,  a  decided  opinion  in  favour 
of  the  former.  1  assert,  with  the  great- 
est promptitude,  that  as  to  genius — 
(here,  to  display  my  erudition,  1  inter- 
pose a  Latin  proverb,  Poeta  nascitur^ 
non  Jit;  for  you  must  knOw  that  I 
Jiave  picked  up  four  or  five  scraps  of 
this  kind,  which  I*introdnce  occasion- 
ally to  the  great  edification  of  my 
liearersy)  that  as  to  gemus,  which  is 
the  grand  characteristic  of  a  poet. 
Homer  is  infinitely  superior.  Virgil, 
indeed,  1  add,  is  more  elaborate  and 
correct :  but  he  is  indebted  for  almost 
every  thing  to  his  great  predecessor. 

Piomingo.    But  you  certainly  do 


not  presume  to  run  a  parallel  between 
these  poets,  without  having  read  the 
originals. 

Schoolmatter.  1  assure  you,  sir, 
that  I  do.  Without  having  read  the 
originals !  I  have  not  even  read  the 
English  translations;  and  I  cannot 
pronounce,  correctly,  one  in  ten  of  the 
proper  names  that  must  necessarily 
occur  in  those  translations. 

Piomingo.  Are  you  not  afraid,  at 
times,  of  exposing  ypur^ignorance  ? 

Schoolmaster.  Expose  my  igno* 
ranee!  To  whom?  to  people  more 
ignoraQt  than  myself?  My  knowledge, 
which  in  reality  is  not  extensive,  when 
compared  with  that  of  others,  rises  in 
importance :  and  what  is  stiU  better, 
my  character,  as  a  man  of  substance, 
and  a  profound  scholar,  is  firmly  esta- 
blished. Do  you  suppose,  Piomingo, 
that  any  intelligent  animal,  who  wears 
a  worse  coat  than  I  do,  would  dare  to 
dispute  any  of  my  authoritative  sayings  ? 
I  should  laugh  in  his  face  if  he  did; 
and  my  laugh  would  be  echoed  by 
every  ignorant  pretender  to  knowl- 
edge. No:  nothing  can  injure  my 
literary  reputation  but  the  appearance 
of  poverty ;  and  you  may  believe  me, 
Piomingo,  J  endeavour  to  keep  that  at 
as  great  a  distance  as  possible. 

Piomingo.  Although  you  are  conti- 
nually acknowledging  your  ignorance, 
I  must  confess  that  1  find  your  convert 
sation  very  instinctive.  You  criticise 
likewise  the  productions  of  the  mo- 
dems? 

Schoolmaster.  Certainly :  I  can  talk 
t\ieni\y  of  the  Auhlimity  of  Milton,  the 
majestic  march  of  Dryden,  the  meZ/z- 
jluous  versification  of  Pope,  the  hu* 
mour  of  Swift,  the  conceits  of  Cowley, 
the  descriptive  powers  of  Thomson, 
the^om^  obscurity  of  Gray,  and  the 
sweet  simplicity  of  Goldsmith. 

Piomingo.  These  authors  you  have 
read? 

Schoolmaster.  I  hRve  read  the  title- 
pages  of  some  of  them,  and  sometimes 
perused  elegant  extracts,  prominent 
beavties,  and  entertaining  selection§M 
brought  iBtp  view  by  the  disinterestea^ 


2S 


M1SCSLLAM&0U8. 


•care^and  refimtd  taste  oiingenhw  and 
lear»e<l  booksellers.  It  is  by  no  means 
necessary  that  a  man  should  read  a 
poeniy  in  order  to  be  able  to  pro- 
nounce sentence  on  its  merits;  noth- 
ing more  is  necessary  than  to  fall  in 
with  the  prevailing  opinion^  and  utter 
every  sentence  with  the  appearance  of 
mofound  wisdom.  There  is  Milton's 
raradise  Lost^  for  example :  I  have 
never  read  a  dosen  lines  of  it,  but 
what  I  met  with  in  Scott^s  Lesiona^ 
and  BvrgJ^s  Art  of  Speaking;  yet 
no  man  can  talk  with  more  fluency  of 
the  grandeur  ofideci»Bnd  daring  m- 
agination  of  the  tmmbrtal  bard,  than 
I  can.  In  fine,  I  have  discovered  an 
indubitable  truth;  that  knowledge  is 
acquired  with  difficulty ;  but,  that  the 
am)earance  of  knowledge,  which  is 
qmte  as  good,  is  easily  attained. 

Piomingo.  You  give  your  opinion 
likewise  (S  writers  iu  prose. 

Schoolmaittr.  Readily:  I  know 
that  the  style  of  Addison  is  natural 
and  idiomatic ;  and  that  of  Johnson^ 
hfty  and  majestic — Exp^  Hercu* 
lem:  thai  b  another  of  my  Latin 
phrases.  I  have  feetinm  lente  and 
three  or  four  besides. 

Piomingo.  Have  you  e\:er  read  the 
works  of  Addison  or  Johnson  ? 

Schoolmaster.  *  Never.. 

Piomingo.  Have  you  any  knowl« 
edge  of  dramatic  criticism  ? 

Schoolmaster.  I  attend  the  theatre : 
I  have  learned  the  common  playhouse 
slang;  and  sing  hosannas  to  the  great 
bard  of  nature.  I  talk  of  ancient  wit, 
modem  sentiment,  and  the  pernicious 
effects  of  the  German  drama! 

Piomingo-  Your  discourse  has  been 
so  interesting,  that  I  found  it  impossi- 
ble to  interrupt  you,  theush  I  think  we 
have  rather  wandered  uom  our  sub- 
ject :  I  believe  you  Intimated  a  while 
ago,  that  when  you  commenced  teach- 
er, you  pursued  a  different  plan  from 
tlmt  by  winch  yomr  conduct  is  at  pres- 
ent regulated. 

Schoolmaster.  I  did:  I  was,  even 
^  that  time,  able  to  form  a  toleivbly 
correct  idea  of  the.£Xtent  of  my  own 


acquirements;  md  I  endeavoured; 
with  the  utmost  assiduity^  to  commu- 
nicate to  my  pupils  the  knowledge  of 
which  I  was  possessed.  The  indm- 
trious  and  attentive  I  encouraged  sod 
rewarded ;  the  indolent  and  vicious,  I 
reprimanded  and  corrected.  This  plaa 
I  followed  for  sone  time ;  but,  ere  I 
was  aware,  my  school  dwindled  ts 
nothing.  Every  man  concaves  that 
his  own  son  is  not  only  a  gemus  of  the 
most  exalted  order,  but  also  a  paragOB 
of  .virtue:  now,  as  I  had  dared  to 
form  a  ditihrent  opinion,  it  wastixHight 
altogether  proper  tluttbete promising 
sons  of  enlightened  fathers  should  be 
moved  from  their  present  ntaatwo, 
and  pkced  oader  Ghe  care  of  sosne 
celebrated  preceptor,  who  wwddbe 
able  to  form  a  correct  estimaft  of  the 
brilliancy  of  their  talents. 

Every  mother  considers  her  soaa 
hero  in  mmiature,  rash,  dnriw,  ambi- 
tious; too  noble  to  be  coatro£d  ^a 
cold  formal  pedagogue^  and  too  Mgh 
spirited  to  submk  to  any  species  of 
cnastisement  She  is  alwajs  heaid  to 
observe,that  her  *^  children  oMijbeM, 
but  cannot  be  dnvoi:  they  have  a 
spirit  above  it."  Now,  as  I  conceive 
this  Mgh  spirit  to  be  nothing  dbt  tfan 
childish  obstinacy,  e^jendered  bf  the 
weak  indulgenee  of  silly  modien,  I 
resolved  that  it  should  be  humfaled; 
and  when  any  of  my  faigh-nuoded  ps- 
piis  were  not  disposed  to  be  kdf  I 
immediately  had  recourse  to  my  eos^ 
pmlsoTf  process,  b  is  very  possiUe 
that  I  was  walking  in^he  pam  of  dotv, 
but  I  found  mysdf  diverging  so  wkkiy 
icooi  Hie  line  oC  self-interest,  that  I 
became  rather  uneasy.  Wiatever 
might  be  the  motives  of  my  oeadnot, 
the  consequence  was  palpable  enough : 
my  school  was  deseited.  I  saw  ny 
erEor, and  wisely  resolvod  toeocrectit. 

I  removed  to  a  central  part  of  the 
city,  'and  instantly  qiened  a  seiRt 
academy  for  the  instmction  of  yoaa| 
gentlemen.  My  first  care  was  to  pott 
mysdf  m  the  new8pi4[»em,  in  the  M* 
lowift|  manner: 

^^MuSim  bss  tin  honour  toifl- 


VISCSLLAKB0U9. 


29 


form  an  erdighiened  and  generons  p 
pubKc,  that  he  has  determmad  to  de- 
Tote  his  time  to  the  tuitiMi  of  a  select 
and  limited  number  of  young  gentk* 
men. 

<^  Mr.  B.  b  possessed  of  all  those 
ftdyantages  that  flow  from  a  polUe  and 
iiberai  education ;  and  he  flatters  him- 
self,  that  he  is  fully  competent  to  iht 
task  of  conveying  Instruction,  in  the 
most  fashionable  and  agreeable  vmor 
ner. 

Mr.  B.  feels  a  just  abhorrence  for 
the  old,  rigid,  and  compulsory  system 
of  education,  which  has  a  direct  tend- 
ency to  terHfy  the  teoder  mind,  and 
give  it  a  distaste  for  every  kind  of 
instruction;  and  he  has  the  utmost 
pleasure  in  having  the  honour  to  an- 
nounce to  the  judiciouB  and  tntetti" 
gent  part  of  the  community,  that,  by 
stodious  attention,  he  has  devised  a 
iflaa,  whereby  the  otherwise  irksome 
business  of  education,  will  be  rendered 
agreeable  and  entertainii^.'' 

But  why  should  I  repeat  the  whole  ? 
I  went  on  in  the  usual  puffing  style, 
and  made  the  necessary  promises  of 
forming  the  manners,  and  watching 
over  the  morals  of  my  pupils.  Every 
thing  succeeded  agreeably  to  my 
vnshes.  All  the  world  were  eager  to 
have  their  sons  instructed  at  Mr. 
Birch's  new  and  foshionable  academy, 
where  learning  was  made  so  amusing, 
and  the  affairs  were  transacted  in  a 
style  so  genteel,  and  so  sj^endid.  I 
resolved  to  give  myself  no  uneasiness 
about  the  progress  of  my  scholars  in 
the  paths  of  literature,  tmt  to  devote 
my  undivided  attention  to  the  business 
of  amumg  my  young  gentlemen,  and 
JkOering  the  wmty  of  their  parents. 
The  boys  were  emj^yed  in  spouting, 
writing  verses,  drawing  pictures,  and 
veceivittg  diplomas  and  certificates; 
which  Uiey  carried  heme  and  exhi- 
Uted  astestimenials  of  their  proficien- 
cy in  scientifical  pursuits.  I  instituted 
quarterly  examinations ;  cards  of  in- 
vitation were  sent  to  my  patrons  to 
cmne  and  iudge  of  the  literary  acquire- 
meoti  of  thein^hildren  confided  to  my 


eare;  specimens  of  writing,  prepared 
for  the  occasion,  were  exhibited ;  the 
young  gentlemen  were  examined  in 
arithmetic,  grammar,  geography,  chro- 
nology, mythology ;  and  the  entertain- 
ment concluded  with  a  spouting 
match. 

Piomngo.  I  cannot  conceive  how 
you  managed  the  examination. 

SchoolmaHer.  Nothing  easier:  by 
the  assistance  of  a  few  books,*  which 
are  easily  procured,  I  had  prepared 
my  disciples  to  answer  some  general 
questions  on  each  of  these  subjects; 
mid  these  were  the  only  questions  I 
asked. 

Piomingo.  How  did  you  conduct 
the  panting  match  ? 

Schoobmster.  Why,  wedeHvered 
"  Sempronius'  speech  for  war,''  "  Lu- 
dus'  speech  for  peace,''  "the  dialogue 
between  Brutus  and  Cassias,"  and 
^  Antony's  oration  over  Cesar^s  dead 
body."  We  sacrificed  "Hector  and 
Andromache,"  mangled  "a  hymn  to 
adversi^,"  and  murdered  an  "  ode  on 
the  passions."  I  must  not  forget  to 
mention  that  one  of  my  most  surpm- 
tn^  gemtaeBy  committed  to  memory 
an  oration  found  in  the  works  of  a  cer- 
tain author,  and  passed  it  on  the  en^ 
lightened  assembly  as  his  own  com- 
position; but  there  was  nothing  re- 
markable in  that :  this  trick  has  ofien 
been  practised  before  in  the  semina- 
ries of  Philadelphia.  O  how  delight- 
ful it  was  to  benold  the  mouthing,  and 
stamping,  and  sawing  the  air !  While 
the  fond  parents 

8ikiU*4  and  look'd,  tmil'd  and  look'd, 
And  amO'd  and  look'd  again, 

each  one  unagining  that  he  saw,  in  his 
ikvoorite  son,  some  future  Demosthe- 
nes,'Cicero,  Chatham,  Burke,  or  Fox. 

In   fsithy   'twas  strange,  twas  psMing 

straDMl 
Twas  pitabt,  twai  wondrous  pitiful ! 

The  young  gendemen  received  the 
unanimous  applause  of  the  polite  as- 
sembly; the  most  extravagant  enco- 
miuras  wei«  bestowed  on  tli^  care  and 
anidnity  of  the  teacher;  and  the  fame 


30 


MISC£LLANB0U9. 


of  bk  seleet  academy  was  extended 
throughout  the  city. 

But  a  great  part  of  my  success  de- 
pends upon  the  manner  in  which  I 
eulogise  the  children  to  their  respec- 
tive parents.  And,  although  I  firmly 
believe,  that  some  of  them  have  dis- 
cernment enough  to  perceive  my  mo* 
tive  for  so  doing,  still,  this  flattery  is 
so  delightful  to  every  parental  ear, 
that  they  are  universally  carried  away 
by  the  pleasing  delusion.  "  Well, 
Mr.  Birch,''  says  Mrs.  Bombysine, 
"  what  do  you  think  of  my  Bobby  ?" 
<<  Think,  ma'am,  I  protest,  I  think 
him  the  most  astonishing  child  in  the 
world!  He  is  a  prodigy  of  genius! 
Upon  my  word,  ma'am,  ne  appears  to 
know  every  thing  intuitively.  I  was 
taken  with  his  appearance  at  first  sight. 
I  was  struck  with  something  uncom- 
mon in  his  countenance,  which  seemed 
to  prognosticate  future  greatness.  And 
then  he  is  so  irresistibly  interesting — 
1  think  he  very  much  resembles  yon, 
ma'am."  ^^Do  you  think  so,  Mr. 
Birch  ?  Why,  I  do  not  know :  he  is 
said  to  be  like  Mr.  Bombvsiue." 
"  True,  ma'am,  wery  true,  ma'am,  in 
the  oudines  of  his  countenance ;  but 
the  genius  of  his  mother  beams  in  his 
eyes !  You  will  please  to  permit  me  to 
express  my  opinion  freely  on  this  sub- 
ject :  in  these  matters  I  conceive  that 
my  judgment  b  to  be  depended  upon. 
Your  son  will  one  day  fill  a  distinguish- 
ed place  in  the  republic  of  letters." 
^<  What  turn  do  you  think  he  will  have 
for  public  speaking,  Mr.  Birch?" 
^<  Upon  my  honour,  ma'am,  he  has  a 
wonderful  talent  for  declamation.  Did 
you  observe,  ma'am,  with  what  a  no- 
ble air  he  came  forward !  how  fluent 
his  delivery!  how  natural  and  easy 
his  gestures !  Yes,  I  can  foretell  with 
certainty,  that  his  elocution,  in  our 
great  national  council,  will  fill  the 
world  with  astonishment."     ^^I  am 

Sretty  much  of  your  opinion,  Mr. 
iu-ch,  as  to  Bobby's  talents  for  elocu- 
tion; and  I  have  often  puzzled  my 
brain  by  endeavouring  to  determine 
which  of  the  learned  professions  would 


best  fall  in  with  the  bent  of  his  genius. 
I  would  rather  depend  upon  your 
judgment,  in  th'is  interesting  aflair, 
than  on  that  of  any  other  ooan  I  know. 
Mr.  Bombysine  seems  inclined  to 
make  him  a  pliysician ;  but  it  teems 
to  me,  that,  in  that  callii^,  hb  orator- 
ical abilities  would  be  tc^y  lost  to 
the  community.  We  do  not  receive 
talents,  Mr.  Birch,  to  hide  them  in  a 
nankin."  ^^  Madam,  your  ideas  eoia- 
cide  exactly  with  mine.  I  am  satis- 
fied that  he  would  make  an  eminent 
physician,  should  his  studies  be  direct- 
ed that  way^  but,  as  you  very  imtly 
observe,  that  employment  wmud  not 
aflbrd  him  an  opportunity  of  (fispby* 
ing  his  rhetorical  powers.  The  pro- 
fession of  the  law  opens  more  pieamg 
prospects :  he  would  be  an  oraament 
to  the  bar,  and  confer  dignity  on  the 
bench."  ^<  Tme;  yet  I.  ^ways  owd 
to  think  that  he  discovered  a  milittfy 
genius.  When  he  was  quite  a  child, 
it  was  with  the  utmost  diflicuky  that 
I  could  keep  him  in  the  house  on  those 
days  when  the  troops  were  parading 
in  the  streets :  he  would  shoulder  hb 
father's  caue  and  sdrut  across  the  rooa 
with  an  air  so  consequential  and  im- 
perious ! — you  would  have  split  your 
sides  with  laughing  had  yon  seen  hiBL" 
^^  Your  observations  are  perfectly  cor- 
rect, ma'am ;  he  has  indeed  a  martial 
air  when  he  moves;  and  there  b 
something  so  majestic  and  command- 
ing in  hb  countenance— I  have  no 
doubt,  ma'am,  but  that  you  will  live  to 
see  him  a  general  officer."  ^  Well, 
Mr.  Birch,  there  is  one  thing  certain: 
^ou  have  a  wonderful  talent  for  the 
instruction  of  youth.  Every  one  speaks 
highly  of  your  abilities.  Do  yon 
find  tlie  employment  agreeaUe?" 
^  Madam,  were  all  my  pupib  sudi  as 
your  son,  my  business  would  not  only 
be  pleasio|,  but  honourable." 

These,  Piomingo,  these  are  the  arts 
by  which  I  render  the  vanity,  folly, 
'  and  imbecility  of  the  world,  the  means 
of  my  own  advancement.  Can  yoa 
blame  me  ? 


t 


Piomingo,    Not  J.  tnilv :  I  tliink 

Jigitized  by  VjOOQiC 


1IISCBLLANB017&. 


51 


yooare  perfectly  right.  Whenvour 
scholars  have  completed  their  eaoca- 
lion,  what  have  they  learned  ? 

Sckoomofter.    To   chatter  about 
every  thing,  and  understand  nothing. 


For  ths  Masoihc  Registeiu 
MASONRY  AMD  EDUCATION. 

Mb.  Editor, 

I  have  heard,  that  among  the  first 
great  moral  duties  inculcated  in  the 
noble  science  of  freemasonry,  none 
are  more  strongly  enjoined  on  every 
professing  member  of  the  craft,  than 
the  education  of  youth,  •  and  cultiva- 
tioo,  management,  and  control  of  the 
otiind.  And  in  one  of  the  books  given 
to  the  world  by  the  profession,  I  have 
read,  in  a  lecture  explaining  the  meao- 
iog  and  use  of  certain  emblems^  sym- 
bols, or  working  tools  of  masons,  the 
following  remark : — 

<<  The  mind,  like  the  diamond  in  its 
original  state,  is  rude  and  unpolished ; 
but  as  the  efiiects  of  the  chisel  on  the 
external  coat,  present  to  view  the 
latent  beauties  of  the  diamond,  so  edu- 
cation discovers  the  latent  vhrtuesof 
the  mind,  and  draws  them  forth  to 
range  the  large  field  of  matter  and 
space,  to  display  the  summit  of  hu- 
man knowledge,  our  duty  to  God, 
add  to  man." 

From  this,  sir,  I  take  for  granted, 
that  the  instruction  of  the  rising  gene- 
ration is  a  task  insep^irably  connected 
with  the  duties  of  masonry  ^  although 
I  am  not,  myself,  one  to  whom  the 
lecture  containing  the  above  extract, 
could  be  professionally  addressed. 
And  I  therefore  presume,  that  your 
^  miscellany''  may  not  improperly  be 
made  the  repository  of  articles,  or 
matter,  on  the  subject  of  education ; 
a  subject  that .  comes  home  to  every 
man's  thoughts  and  feelings,  whether 
be  be  one  o£  the  initiated  or  not,  pro- 
vided he  is  a  parent,  or  a  man  to  whom 
every  thing  relative  to  humanity  is  in- 
teresting. 


Homo  sum,  et  kumani  a  me  oil  alienum 
puto. 

Being,  Sir,  frequently  visited  by 
loose  thoughts  on  modem  customs 
and  manners,  and  occasionally  on 
the  different  species  of  quackery  a- 
mong  which  the  arts  of  pedagogues 
I  think  may  be  justly  classed,  I  was 
led  to  mquire  after  a  suitable  vehicle 
for  their  delivery,  and  by  the  result  of 
my  examination,  am  induced  to  offer 
you  some  of  my  desultory  and  inciden- 
tal remarks  on  men,  manners,  or  lite- 
rature, which  I  may  be  inclined  to 
make.  The  connection  of  masonry 
with  the  liberal  sciences,  I  have  al- 
ways understood  to  be  established  y 
and  indeed,  that  it  is  on  the  latter,  that 
the  former  is  grounded,  and  its  fabric 
or  institutions  erected.  And  of  all 
the  liberal  sciences,  what  is  more  wor- 
thy of  so  distinguished  an  appellation, 
dian  the  art,  science,  or  mystery  of 
education. 

As  1  intend  this,  however,  merely 
as  an  introduction,  I  shall  add  but  a 
few  more  observations.  And  now, 
sir,  among  all  your  readers,  enlight- 
ened or  unenlightened,  I  would  ask  if 
one  might  be  found,  to  explain  to  me 
the  following  singular  fact,  viz.  the 
reason  why  the  second  person  singular 
is  called,  in  the  grammars  and  spelling- 
books,  thoUy  instead  of  you,  as  it  is 
commonly  spoken  ?  I  always  conceiv- 
ed the  use  of  printed  grammars  to  be, 
to  teach  people  how  to  speak  our  lan- 
guage correctly ;  and  that  the  nearer 
we  conform  to  the  directions  of  the 
books,  the  more  closely  we  approach 
the  standard  of  perfection  in  our 
speech.  A  schoolmaster  directs  his 
pupil  to  leani  and  recite  from  his 
grammar,  ^'I  am,  thou  art^  he  is," 
and  if  he  repeats  his  lesson  exactly, 
tells  him,  ^^  tfou  are  r^;ht !"  Hearing 
the  same  pupil,  in  the  street,  say  we 
anij  and  you  amy  to  his  playmates^  he 
checks  him  for  his  ignorance,  asks 
him  if  ever  he  read  such  expressions 
in  any  book,  and  bids  him  speak  as 
he  is  Uught  at  school.  Now,  which 
of  the  authorities  at  school  is  he  to 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


32 


MltCJBLLlNftOUS* 


follow,  thou  artf  ia  die  book,  or  fftou 
arcj  from  the  mouth  of  the  teacher. 

I  have  often  wondered  that  the  com- 
pliers  and  publishers  of  grammars,  «> 


genf^rally  fall  into  this  practice,  and 
print  thou  art.  while  tbe^  apeak  you 
are,  without  the  distincuoo  made  by 
Webster,  in  ^ving  both,  of  thou  being 
used  in  the  9olemn^  and  you  iothe 
fandUar  style. 

That  Lindley  Murray,  a  member  of 
the  society  of  Friends,  who  use  the 
solemn  style  altogether,  should  have 
adopted  the  stiff  and  awkward  phrase, 
because  it  was  the  peculiar  custom  of 
the  religious  sect  to  which  he  belongs, 
is  not  so  strange;  as  the  greatest 
minds  have  some  weaK  parts;  and 
Murray's  system,  though  superior  to 
others  in  many  particulars,  might  still 
be  expected  to  leave  some  blemishes 
in  it,  for  succeeding  writers  to  correct 
or  improve.  Yet,  he  should  have  re- 
collected that  he  was  not  framing  a 
vocabulary  for  a  quaker  nieeting,  but 
compiling  a  system  for  a  community, 
not  one  in  a  hundred  of  which  use  the 
phraseology  he  has  directed.  And  if 
he  had  not  remembered,  or  chosen  to 
attend  to  the  fact,  his  printers,  editors, 
and  publishers,  should  have  done  it 
for  him,  in  a  note,  explanatory  of  the 
right  use  of  the  words  in  question. 

But  of  all  others,  I  am  most  aston- 
ished that  Mr.  Picket  should  have 
adopted  so  gross  an  absurdity  or  ano- 
maly, in  the  excellent  system  of  school- 
books  of  which  be  is  the  author  or 
compiler.  That  one  who  has  done 
more  for  the  advancement  of  educa- 
tion than  all  other  men  in  this  country 
since  the  appearance  of  Webster,  and 
,  framed  and  published  a  set  of  class- 
books  confessedly  superior  to  any  yet 
produced  in  E^Iand,  should  write 
thou^  and  say  yo¥,  is  to  me  quite  un- 
accountable. Let  its  learners,  its 
friends,  or  its  plunderers,  defend  or 
explain  the  book  if  they  can. 

This  brings  me  back  to  my  original 
j^urpose,  which  is,  to  inquire  after  the 
reason  of  this  practice.  I  roeyr  be 
wrong  in  my  notions ;  as  I  am  not  a  pro- 


fessed grammariaai  and  make  no  claim 
to  any  thing  more  than  an  ordinary 
share  of  common  sense  on  things  in  ge^ 
neraL  The  pQint  occurred  and  was 
touched  en  posaant^  and  not  as  an  in- 
stance of  "quackery^* — and  upon  this 
point  I  only  ask  for  elucidation. 

PBILOH. 

PATHETIC  LETTER, 

From  a  deserted  wife  to  a  faithkn 
husband. 

MT  DEAB  HUSBAND, 

I  who  had  expected  your  rettn 
gx)m  '  '  "  with  painful  anxiety, 
who  had  counted  the  slow  hoiin  whioi 
paitO'l  you  from  me— ^ink  bov  I  was 
shocked  at  learning  you  would  return 
no  more,  and  that  you  bad  settled  with 
a  mistress  in  a  distant  state.  It  was 
far  your  sake  that  I  lamented.  Yoa 
went  aganst  my  earnest  entreaties:  hot 
it  was  with  a  desire,  which  I  thought 
stneere,  to  provide  a  genteel  mainten- 
ance for  our  little  ones,  whom  you  said 
you  conld  not  bear  to  see  brmight  up 
in  the  evils  of  poverty.  I  might  now 
lament  the  disappointment  in  not  shar- 
ing the  riches  which  I  hear  yoo  kive 
amassed;  but  I  scorn  it.  What  are 
riches,  compared  to  the  deligltf  of  sin- 
cere afiection  ?  I  deplore  we  loss  of 
Cir  love.  I  deplore  the  frailty  windi 
involved  you  in  error,  and  which 
will,  I  am  sore,  (as  such  mistaken 
conduct  roust)  terminate  b  miseiy. 

Bui  I  mean  not  to  remoostiate  It 
is,  alas!  tookte.  I  only  write  to  ac- 
qaamt  you  widi  the  health,  and  some 
other  circumstances  of  myself  and 
those  little  onesj  whom  yon  oooe 
loved. 

The  house  you  left  me  in  oeold  aot 
be  supported  without  an  expeasc, 
which  the  little  sum  you  left  behiad, 
could  not  well  supply.  I  have  relio- 
quished  it,  and  have  retired  to  a  neat 
little  cottage,  thirty  miles  from  town* 
We  make  no  pretensions  to  elcgascf , 
but  we  live  itf  great  neatne^  and,  by 
strict  economy,  fupolv  our  modmu 

)igitized  by  VjOOQlC 


MI5<»IXAN«0Uf. 


BS 


wants  with  ns  much  comfort  as  our 
desolate  situation  will  allow.  Your 
presence,  my  love,  would  make  the 
little  cottage  a  palace. 

Poor  Emily,  who  has  grown  a  fine 
girl,  has  been  working  a  pair  of  ruffles 
for  you;  and  as  she  sits  by  my  side, 
often  repeats  with  a  sigh,  "  when  will 
ray  dear  papa  return  ?''  The  others 
are  constantly  asking  me  the  same 
ndestion ;  and  little  Henry,  as  soon  as 
he  began  to  talk,  learned  to  lisp,  in 
the  first  syllables  he  uttered,  "  when 
will  papa  come  home  ?"  Sweet  fellow, 
he  is  now  sitting  on  his  stool  by  my 
side,  and,  as  he  sees  me  drop  a  tear, 
asks  me  why  I  weep,  for  papa  will 
come  home  soon.  He  and  his  two 
brothers  are  frequently  riding  on  your 
walking-cane,  and  take  particular  de- 
light in  it  becjuse  it  is  papa's. 

I  do  assure  you,  I  never  open  my 
lips  to  them  on  the  cause  of  your  ab- 
sence. But  I  cannot  prevail  upon 
myself  to  bid  them  cease  to  ask  wlien 
you  will  return,  though  the  question 
frequently  extorts  a  tear,  (wfiicli  I  hide 
in  a  smile)  and  wrings  niy^oul,  uhiie 
I  sufier  in  silence. 

I  have  taught  them  to  mention  you 
in  their  morning  and  evening  prayers, 
with  the  greatest  ardour  of  affeciion ; 
and,  they  always  add  of  themselves,  a 
petition  for  your  speedy  return. 

I  sp^ud  my  time  in  giving  them  the 
little  instruction  1  am  able.  I  cannot 
aflbrd  to  place  them  at  any  eminent 
school,  and  do  not  choose  they  should 
acquire  meanness  and  vulgarity  at  a 
low  one.  As  to  English — they  read 
alternately,  three  hours  every  morn- 
ing, the  most  celebrated  poets  and 
prose  writers;  and  they  can  write, 
though  not  an  elegant,  yet  a  very  plain 
and  legible  baud.    . 

Do  not,  my  dear,  imagine  that  the 
employment  is  irksome.  If  affords 
me  a  sweet  consolation  in  your  ab- 
sence. Indeed,  if  it  were  not  for  the 
little  ones,  I  am  afraid  I  should  not 
support  it. 

1  think  it  will  be  a  satisfaction  to 
vou  to  hear,  that  by  retrenching  our 
VOL.  ih  5 


expenses,  we  are  enabled  to  pay  for 
every  thing  we  buy,  and  though  poor, 
we  are  not  unhappy  from  the  want  o( 
any  necessary. 

Pardon  my  interrupting  you.  I 
mean  to  give  yon  satisfaction.  Though 
I  am  deeply  injured  by  your  error,  I 
am  not  resentful.  I  wish  you  all  the 
happiness  you  are  capable  of^ 
And  am. 
Your  once-loved,  and  still 

Affectionate, 

*  •  •  » 


INTEMPERANCE  AND  GAMING. 
There  are  few  vices  to  which  men 
are  more  addicted  than  those  of  gam- 
ing and  intemperance — vices  whici* 
sink  them  below  the  level  of  brutes, 
and  make  them  a  disgrace,  and  a 
nuisance  to  society.  When  we  see 
men  carousing  at  the  midnight  revel, 
and  wasting  their  time  at  the  gamine; 
•table,  spending  the  earnings  of  a  hard 
day's  labour  in  drunkenness  and  de- 
bauchery, and,  most  of  all,  undermin- 
ing their  constitutions,  and  hurrying 
themselves  to  the  grave,  we  hesitate  to 
think  whether  such  men  deserve  most 
our  pity  or  our  censure.  How  many 
persons  have  set  out  in  the  world,  with 
the  most  favourable  prospects,  and  the 
best  of  dispositions,  whose  hearts  were 
the  seat  of  virtue — humane,  generous, 
and  affectionate — kind  to  their  friends, 
and  beloved  by  all  with  whom  they 
had  intercourse — but  alas !  how  soon 
the  mirror  has  been  turned  !  bow  often 
these  promising  appearances  have  pro- 
ved delusive!  how  often  have  their 
promises  through  life  been  blasted  in 
the  bud,  merely  through  the  infiueuco 
of  loose  and  corrupted  passions ;  and 
have  sunk  down  in  the  end  to  be  a  nui- 
sance, and  a  burden  !  how  often  is  the 
peace  of  families  destroyed  by  tliis  curs- 
^^d  intemperance !  Where  once  dwelt 
concord,  now  discord  reigns  in  all  'i{& 
force — where  virtues  swayed,  now 
vices  rule. 

At  our  first  setting  out  in  life,  when 
our  passions  are  unguarded  and  easy  to 


34 


inSCELLAMBOUS. 


be  allured— when  every  object  is 
brightened  over  with  the  gloss  of  nov- 
elty, and  every  pleasure  has  its  smile : 
it  is  then  we  ought  to  guard  ourselves 
against  the  seducing  appearances  that 
surround  us^  and  recollect  what  others 
have  suffered  from  the  power  of  head- 
strong  desire.  It  is  in  youth  that  we 
must  govern  our  passions,  so  that  we 
nay  carry  ourselves  smoothly  through 
life,  and  recollect,  that,  ^Mntemper- 
ance  engenders  disease,  sloth  pro- 
duces poverty,  pride  creates  disap- 
pointments, and  dishonesty  exposes  to 
shame;"  that  ^Mhe  passions  of  men 
betray  them  into  a  thousand  follies, 
their  follie?  into  crimes,  and  their 
crimes  into  misfortunes."    a.  Wt  a* 


CONSOLATION  TO  BEREAVED  PA- 

RENTS. 
A  eorreapoDdent  has  allowed  us  to  take 
the  following  extract  from  a  tetter  of  con- 
dolence, wMcb  he  has  recently  received 
from  a  friend,  on  the  lul^ect  of  his  late 
mffliction,  q^e  lots  of  a  favonrite,  and 
only  son,  whose  death  was  noticed  in  our 
last  mimber.  The  poetry,  we  believe,  is 
quoted  from  the  British  Chiairterly  Review. 
Thinking  that  it  will  not  be  uninteresting 
to  am/  of  our  readers,  and  that  it  will  be 
peculiarly  gratifying  to  all  who  have  been 
bereaved  of  their  infant  oflbpring,  we  have 
thought  proper  to  give  it  a  place  ip  the  Re- 
gister ;  believing  that  bs  who  said,  «  suffer, 
little  children  to  oome  unto  me,  and  for- 
bid them  not,  for  of  such  is  the  kingdom 
of  Heaven,"  **  will  in  nowise  cast  them 
Off." 

Sir — ^When,  oij  hearing  of  your  re- 
covery so  far  as  to  return  to  New- York, 
J  contemplated  writing-  you,  my  first 
impression  was,  that  my  letter  must 
necessarily  be  a  mixture  of  congratu- 
lation on  the  subject  of  that  event,  and 
of  condolence  on  that  of  the  death  of 
your  dear  little  George  Henry ;  but  a^ 
few  moments  reflection  led  to  the  fol- 
lowing conclusion,  that  however  pain- 
ful may  have  been  the  separation  from 
the  child,  there  were  considerations  to 


the  mind  of  a  Christiaii,  which  seemed 
to  preclude  the  indulgence  of  grief  and 
condolence  upen  the  latter  event,  and 
to  inspire  only  joy  and  congratulatbn. 
We  know  so  little  of  the  heart  of 
man,  that  when  we  stand  by  the  grave 
of  him  whom  we  deem  most  excdient, 
the  thought  of  death  will  be  mingled 
with  some  awe  and  uncertainty ;  but 
the  gracious  promises  of  scripture 
leave  no  doubt  as  to  the  blessedness 
of  departed  infants :  and  when  we 
think  what  they  now  are^  and  whit 
they  might  have  been^  what  they  now 
enjoy ^  and  what  they  might  have  grf" 
fered;  what  they  have  now  gamcd, 
and  what  they  might  have  M;  we 
may  indeed  yearn  to  follow  ^em; 
but  we  must  be  selfish  indeed,  to  wish 
them  again  constrained  to  dwell  ia 
these  tenements  of  pain  and  sorrow. 
The  dirge  of  a  child,  wtiich  foHoirs, 
embodies  these  UiougMs  in  a  moie 
beautiful  order  and  language : 

**  No  bitter  tears  for  thee  be  shed, 
Blossom  oC  bein/r !  seen  and  gone ! 

With  flowers  alone,  we  strew  they  bed, 
O  blest  departed  one! 

Whose  all  ofiife^  a  rosy  ray, 

Blush 'd  into  dawn,^and  passed  away. 

Yes,  thou  art  gone,  ere  guilt  badjiower 
To  stain  thy  cherub  ^oul  and  form! 

Clos'd  is  the  soft  ephem'ral  flower 
That  never  felt  a  storm  ! 

The  sunbeam's  smile,  the  Zephyr's  breath, 

All  that  it  knew  from  birth  to  deat)^ 

Thou  wast  so  like  a  form  of  lidit 
That  Heaven  benignly  call'd  thee  boiw, 

Ere  yet  the  world  could  breathe  or  bligbt 
O'er  thy  sweet  innocence : 

And  thou,  that  brighter  home  to  bless, 

Art  passed  with  all  thy  loveliness. 

0  hadst  thou  still  on  earth  remaln'd. 
Vision  of  beauty,  fair  as  brief! 

How  soon  thy  brightness  bad  been  stahi'd 
With  passion,  or  with  grief! 

Now  not  a  sullying  breath  can  rise 

To  dim  thy  glory  in  the  skies. 

We  rear  no  marble  o'er  thy  tomb; 

No  sculptur'd  image  there  shall  moam, 
Ah  !  fitter  for  the  vernal  bloom 

Such  dwelling  to  adorn ; 
Fragmncf ,  and  flowers,  and  dews  moit  be 
The  only  emblejus  mof  t  for  thee. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQTC 


IttSCSLtANEOtm. 


35 


Thy  grave  shall  be  a  blessed  shrine, 
Adoro'd  with  natore's  brightest  wreath ; 

Each  gtowiog  season  shall  combine 
Its  incense  there  to  breathe ; 

And  oft  upon  the  midnight  air 

Shall  viewless  harps  be  murmVing  there. 

And  ob !  sometimes,  in  visions  blest, 
Sweet  spirit  1  visit  our  repose, 

And  bear  from  thine  own  world  of  r«)^t 
Some  balm  for  human  woes- 

What  form  more  lovely  could  be  giv*n 

Than  tliine,  to  messenger  from  Heav'n." 


THE  FAN. 

The  uses  of  this  little  iemale  ornament, 
aie  well  described  in  the  following  extract 
ftom  <  Letters  from  Spain,*  published  in  the 
Jfew  Motahly  Magaismet  No.  6. 

A  showy  fan  is  indispensable,  in  all 
seasons,  botb  in  and  out  of  doors.  An 
Andelusian  woman  might  as  well  want 
her  tongtie  as  hef  fan.    The  fan,  be- 
Mdes,  has  this  advantage  over  the  na- 
tural organ  of  speech,  that  it  conveys 
Ihought  to  a  greater  distance.    A  dear 
friend  at  the  farthest  end  of  the  public 
*walk,  is  greeted  and  clieered  up  by  a 
quick  tremolous  motion  of  the  fan,,ac- 
companied    with  several    significant 
nods.    Ab  object  of  indifference  is  dis- 
missed with  a  slow,  formal  inclination 
of  the  fan,  which  makes  his  blood  run 
cold.     The  fan  now  screens  the  titter 
and  whisper;  now  condenses  a  smile 
into  the  dark  sparkling  eyes,  wJiich 
take  their  aim  just  above  it.     A  gentle 
tap  of  the  fan  commands  the  attention 
of  the  careless ;  a  waving  motion  calls 
the  distant.     A  certain  twirl  between 
the  fingers  betrays  doubt,  or  anxiety : 
a  quick  closing  and  displaying  the  folds, 
indicates  eagerness  or  joy.     In  perfect 
combination  with  the  expressive  fea- 
tures of  my  countrywomen,  the  fan  is 
a  mag^>Avand,  whose  power  is  more 
easily  felfUhan  described. 

THE  HOME  OF  MY  CHILDHOOD. 

To  the  home  of  my  childhood  in  sorrow  I 

came; 
And  I  fQodly  expected  to  ftn^  it  the  same ) 


Fell  of  sushine  and  joy;  as  t  dioaghtlt 

to  be, 
In  the  days  when  the  world  was  all  son- 

shine  to  me ; 
Those  scenes  were  analtered  by  time,  and 

1  stood 
Looking  down  on  the  village,  half  bid  by 

the  wood, 
That  happy  abode,  where  I  used  to  possess 
A  father's  affection^  a  mother's  caress. 

To  others  those  scenes  are  as  bright  as  be- 
fore, 

Bnt  I  can  rejoice  in  iheu'  bri^tness  no 
more; 

I  stand  in  the  home  of  my  childhood  alone, 

Forihe  friends  of  my  childhood  are  all  of 
^hcm  gone : 

*Twas  jo^  shar'd  by  otber»Mhelangb  and 
the  jest, 

That  gave  to  this  spot  all  the  charms  h  pos« 
sest. 

And  here  the  remembrance  oppresses  me. 
most, 

Of  all  I  once  yalitdd-H>f  all  I  have  lost! 

How  vain  was  my  prayer,  that  the  place 
might  vetain 

lU  delights,  if  I  e'er  shoold  betiold  it  again ! 

Those  who  made  it  delightful  no  longer 
are  near ; 

And  loneliness  seems  so  unnatural  here.* 

Thns  he  who  m  age  at  a  ball-room  has 
been, 

Where  in  youth  his  gay  spirit  gave  life  to 
.  the  scene, 

StOl  sighs  for  the  fair  ones  he  loved ;  and 
to  him 

The  dance  must  be  cheerless,  the  brillian- 
cy dim. 


Qh,  where  are  the  dreams,  ever  hatppy  and 

new; 
And  the  eye,  with  felicity  always  in  view: 
And  the  juvenile  thoaghtlessness,  laughing 

at  fear, 
Which  reigned  in  my  bosom,  when  last  I 

was  here  ? 
And  where  are  the  hopes  that  I  used  to 

enjoy, 
The  hopes  of  a  light-hearted  spirited  boy  ? 
When  the  present  and  past  had  as  little  of 

gloom, 
As  I  then  thought  of  finding  bi  moments 

to  come. 


MUSQUfiTOES. 

<<  A  correspondent  writes  ns,  that  H  is  a 
well  known  tact,  the  male  musquetoes  do 
not  4ting ;  it  is  only  the  females  that  suck 
the  blood.  Qu«ry— -are  not  some  of  our 
ladies  who  draw  blood  6lXILt.htlrsertapts, 


96  mufcjsLhjamovt. 

THEATRICAL  ADDRESSES. 

In  accordance  with  oar  plaD  of  selectioD,  we  give  place  to  the  foHowing  artf- 
cles,  occasioned  by  the  opening  of  the  New  Theatre,  on  the  1st  of  the  preseni 
month.  The  one  is  a  fictitious/ and  the  other  the  actual  address  then  delivered. 
Of  the  merks  of  neither  do  we  puq>ose  speaking,  farther  than  that  the  latter  ba» 
ahready  passed  an  ordetl,  whose  decision  we  are  not  prepared  to  dispute ;  and 
fhat  the  former  is  wor^y  of  the  reputation  of  its  author — one  of  the  firslof 
American  poets. 

AN  ADDRESS  FOR  THE  OPENING  OF  THE  NEW  THEATRE, 
*T0  BE  SPOKEN  BT  HIT.  OLUPF. 
liAIHBS  AlTD  Gcin-tEMEir, 

Enligbten'd  as  you  are,  you  aH  must  know 
Our  playhouse  was  burnt  down,  some  time  agoy 
Without  insurance — 'twas  a  famous  blaze, 
Fine  fun  for  firemen,  but  dull  sport  for  plays, 
The  proudest  of  our  whole  damatic  corps 
Such  warm  reception  never  met  before, 
It  was  a  woful  night  for  us  and  ours, 
Worse  than  dry  weather  to  the  fields  and  flowers^^ 
The  evening  found  as  gay  as  summer's  lark, 

Happy  as  sturgeons  in  the  Tappan  sea ; 
The  ihorning — like  the  dove  from  Noah's  avk^ 

As  homeless,  houseless,  innocent  as  she. 
But  thanks  to  those  who  ever  have  been  knewD 
To  love  the  public  interest — when  their  own  5 
Thanks  to  the  men  of  talent  and  of  trade. 
Who  joy  in  doing  well — when  they're  well  paid. 
Again  our  fireworn  mansion  is  rebuilt. 
Inside  and  outside,  neatly  carv'd  and  gilt. 
With  best  of  paint  and  canvass,  lath  and  plaster, 

The  Lord  bless  B******  and  J»»»  J*»**  A*<«^. 
As  an  old  coat,  from  Jennings'  patent  screw, 
Comes  out  clean  scour'd  and  brighter  than  the  new,. 
As  an  old  head  in  Saunder's  patent  wig 

Looks  wiser  than  when  young,  and  twice  as  big. 

As  M**  V**  B»****,  when  in  senate  hall, 

Repairs  the  loss  we  met  in  S 's  fall, 

As  the  new  constitution  will,  (we're  told) 

Be  worth  at  least  a  dozen  of  the  old— 

So  is  our  new  house  better  than  its  brother. 

Its  roof  is  painted  yellower  than  the  other, 

It  is  insured  at  three  per  cent,  'gainst  fire, 

And  cost  three  times  as  much,  and  »  six  inches  higher.    > 
'Tb  not  alone  the  house — the  prompter's  clothes 

Are  all  quite  new— so  are  the  fiddlers'  bows, 

The  sup<>mumeraries  are  newly  shav'd, 

New  drill'd,  and  all  extremely  well  behav'd. 

niiey'll  each  one  be  ailow'd  (I  stop  to  mention) 

The  right  of  suflirage  by  the  new  Convention.) 

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miSCELLANEOCS.  SJ 

We've  some  new  thunder,  several  new  plays, 
And  a  new  splendid  carpet  of  green  baize, 
So  that  there's  nought  remains  to  bid  us  reach 
The  topmost  bough  of  favour — but  a  speech — 
A  speech — the  prehide  to  each  public  meeting. 
Whether  for  morals,  charity,  or  eating, 
A  speech — the  modern  mode  of  winning  heart*, 
And  power,  and  fame,  in  politics  and  arts. 

What  made  the  good  M         c  our  president  ? 
'Twas  that  through  all  this  blessed  land  he  went> 
With  his  immortal  cock'd  hat  and  short  breeches, 
Dining  wherever  a^'d — and  making  speeches. 
What,  when  Missovri  stood  on  hei^kist  legs, 

Reviv'd  her  hopes  ?  the  speech  of  H ^y  M 9m 

What  proves  our  country  learned,  wise,  and  happy  ? 

M 's  addresis  w  the  Phi  Bettf  Kappa. 

What  has  convinced  the  world  that  we  have  men 
First  with  the  sword,  the  chisel,  brush,  and  pen. 
Shaming  all  l^nglish  authors,  men  or  maidens  ? 

The  Fourth  of  July  speech  of  Mr.  A 's- 

Yes — if  our  managers  grow  great  and  rich. 

And  players  prosper — let  them  thank  my  speccif, 

And  let  the  name  of  Olliff  proudly  go 

With  M s  and  A s,  M 11  and  M r. 


ADDRESS 

WitTTTEN  BY  CHARLES   ^RAOUE,  ESQ.   OF  BOSTOIl^. 

When  mitred  zeal,  in  wild,  unholy  days, 

Bared  his  red  arm,  and  bade  the  fagot  blaze, 

Our  patriot  sires  the  pilgrim  sail  unfurled, 

And  freedom  pointed  to  a  rival  world. 

Where  prowled  the  wolf,  and  where  the  hunter  roycdj 

Faith  raised  her  altars  to  the  God  she  loved ; 

Toil,  linked  with  art,  explored  each  savage  wild, 

The  forest  bow'd,  the  desert  bloom'd  and  smiled  5 

Taste  reared  her  domes,  fair  science  spread  her  page. 

And  wit  and  genius  gathered  ronnd  the  Stage. 

ITie  Stage !  where  fancy  sits  creative  queen, 

And  spreads  gay  web-work  o'er  life's  mimic  scene ; 

Where  young-eyed  wonder  comes  to  feast  his  siglit. 

And  quaff  instruction  while  he  drinks  delight. 

The  Stage !  that  treads  each  labyrinth  of  the  soul, 

Wakes  laughter's  peal,  and  bids  the  tear-drop  roll ; 

That  hoots  at  folly,  raocks  proud  fashion's  slaves, 

And  brands  with  shame  the  world's  vile  drove  of  knaves. 

The  child  of  genius,  catering  fpr  the  Stage, 
Rifles  the  stores  of  every  clime  and  age. 
He  speaks !  the  sepulchre  resigns  hs  prey, 
And  crirosoB  life  runa  through  the  skeping  clay : 

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31  AUSCELLANEOtTS. 

The  wave,  the  gibbet,  and  the  battle  field, 
At  his  command,  their  festering  tenants  yield. 
Here  wisdom's  heir,  released  from  death's  embrace, 
Reads  awful  lessons  to  another  race ; 
Pale,  bleeding  love  comes  we?ping  from  the  tomb, 
That  kindred  softness  may  bewail  her  doom ;  ~ 
Murder's  dry  bones,  re-clothed,  desert  the  dust. 
That  after  times  may  own  the  sentence  just ; 
And  the  mad  tyrant  of  some  mouldering  page 
Stalks  here  to  warn,  who  once  could  curse  an  age» 

May  this  fair  dome^  in  classic  beauty  reared, 
By  taste  be  fosterect,  and  by  worth  revered, 
May  chastened  wit  here  bend  to  virtue^s  cause. 
Reflect  her  image  and  re|)eat  her  laws ; 
And  vice,  that  lumbers  o'er  the  sacred  page, 
Hate  his  own  likeness,  shadowed  from  the  stage. 

Here  let  the  gi^ardiau  of  the  drama  sit 
In  righteous  judgment  o'er  the  realms  of  wit. 
Not  his  the  shame,  with  survile  pen  to  wait 
On  private  friendship,  or  on  private  hate; 
To  flatter  fools,  or  satire's  javelin  dart, 
Tipp'd  with  a  lie,  at  proud  ambition's  heart. 
His  be  the  noble  task  to  herald  forth, 
Young  blushing  merit,  and  neglected  worth  ^ 
To  stamp  with  scorn  the  prostituted  page, 
And  lash  tlie  fool  who  lisps  it  from  the  Stage. 

Here  shall  bright  genius  wing  his  eagle  flight. 
Rich  dew-drops  shaking  from  his  plumes  of  light, 
Till  high  in  mental  worlds,  from  vulgar  keo, 
He  soars,  the  wonder  and  the  pride  of  men. 
Cold  censure  here  to  decent  mirth  shall  bow. 
And  bigotry  unbend  his  monkish  brow; 
Here  toil  shall  pause,  his  ponderous  sledge  thrown  by^ 
And  beauty  bless  each3train  with  melting  eye; 
Grief,  too,  in  Action  lost,  shall  cease  to  weep. 
And  all  the  world's  nide  cares  be  laid  asleep. 
EacKpolish'd  scene  shall  taste  and  truth  approve, 
And  the  Stage  triumph  in  the  people's  love. 


ADMONITION  AGAINST  SABBATH 
BREAKING. 

The  profanation  of  the  Lord's  Day, 
or  Christian  Sabbath,  is  become  so 
shamefully  common  among  all  ranks 
and  orders  of  men,  that  it  is  the  duty 
of  every  oue  who  wishes  well  to  his 
fellow  Christians,  to  the  rising  genera- 
tion, and  to  our  country,  to  do  all  in 
his  power,  to  awaken  and  reform  those 
who  are  chargeable  with  tt.    Let  me, 


therefore,  remind  you,  that  at  tW  a*' 
ation,  God  appointed  one  day  in  s^^^ 
to  be  kept  holy  for  religious  puf|K»<* 
This  he  required  in  the  i-a^of  Mo«^ 
particularly  in  the  fourth  «^^""*^ 
ment.  It  is  also  in  effect  required  b)' 
Jesus  Christ;  and.the Lord's  Pay,  ^ 
called  in  remembrance  ofl^  rcsufrec- 
tion  on  tliat  day,  was  kept  ho'y^^ 
Apostles,  and  first  ^^^^^^^Jj^ 
ever  since.    It  U  therefore  taom  ^ 

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MISCELLANEOUS. 


5D 


tolly  the  ^uty  of  every  Christian  to 
observe  it,  as  a  day  of  rest  from  work, 
buying,  selling,  travelling  (except  in 
cases  of  frreat  and  unavoidable  neces- 
sity) and  frooa  all  kinds  of  sport  and 
diversion ;   and  he  is  to  employ  this 
day  in  attending  at  church,  both  morn- 
ing and  afternoon — in  reading  the  Bi- 
ble and  good  books  at  home — in  in- 
structing ht^  family — in  serious  reflec- 
tions on  his  past  temper  and  conduct, 
in  pious  resolutions  concerning  his  fu- 
ture conduct,  and  in  preparations  for 
eternity;    and  in  earnest  prayers  to 
God,  for  pardon,  assistance,  strength, 
and  eternal  life,  through  the  merits  and 
mediation  of  Jesus  Christ.     To  spend 
the  sacred  time  in  amusement,  idle- 
oess,  and  trequcnting    coffee-houses, 
taverns,  &c{,  and  to  neglect  the  public 
andprivati^  duties  of  the  day,  is  a  high 
aflVont  to  the  authority  of  God  ;  a  base 
and  ungrateful  return  for  the  love  and 
grace  of  our  Saviour,  and  an  unspeaka- 
ble injury  to  yourself,  to  your  family, 
and  to  the  nation.   It  exposes  you  to  the 
penalties  which  the  law  inflicts  on  Sab- 
bath breakers,  and  tends  to  bring  the 
jndgroents  of  God  on  the  country.     It 
leads  you  to  bad  company,  to  a  habit 
of  idleness,  drunkenness,  extravagance, 
and  80  on  to  ruin,  as  many  have  ac- 
knowledged who  have  suflered  at  the 
place  of  execution.     It  finally  tends  to 
destroy  all  serious  thought  and  religious 
concern,  to  harden  the  heart — and  so 
exposes  you  to  everlastin?  destruction. 
You  are,  therefore,  by  all  those  argu- 
ments, earnestly  entreated  to  consider 
your  duty  and  interest;  immediately 
to  leave  off  this  pernicious  habit  of 
Sabbath  breaking,  and  apply    your- 
selves vigorously  to  the  proper  duties 
of  that  holy  day.    It  is  particularly 
desired,  that,  the  next  time  you  go  to 
Chorch,  you  would  consider  the  res- 
ponse which  you  make,  after  the  mio' 
ister  hath  read  the  fourth  commaud- 
ment ;  and  that  it  will  be  a  base  hy- 
pocrisy,  and  a  horrid  insult  on  the 
heart-searching  God,  to  "  beseech  him 
to  incline   your  hearts  to  keep  that 
lawj't unless  you  are  sincerely  and  fully 


resolved  to  keep  it.  The  Sabbath 
(comfortable  reflection !)  was  designed 
as  a  day  of  blessing ;  may  you  never 
more,  by  your  idleness,  and  profane- 
ness,  or  any  cause,  turn  that  blessing 
into  a  curse ;  for  death  will  soon  close 
(for  ever  close)  the  day  of  grace  and 
mercy.  And  if  you  neglect,  especial- 
ly after  this  faithful  warning,  ^^  the 
things  which  make  for  your  peace, 
they  will  then  be  hid  from  your  eyes,'* 
and  then  you  will  And  no  place  for  re«> 
pentance. — Bali.  Chron. 


OBITUARY. 

"  Blessed  are  the  dead  who  die  in  the 
Lord  from  henceforth :  Vea,  saith  the  Spi- 
ntf  that  they  may  rest  from  their  labours ; 
and  their  works  do  follow  them." — Rev, 

Died,  on  Sanday,  the  30th  of  Septem- 
ber, Mr.  David  B.  Hott,  of  this  city,  in 
the  32d  year  of  his  age.  He  was  a  man 
highly  esteemed  among  bis  acquaintance, 
and  died  much  lamented,  leaving  a  wif(( 
and  two  small  children,  besides  his  aged 
parents,  and  a  large  circle  of  relatives  and 
other  friends,  to  lament  his  loss.  We  have 
been  favoured  by  a  respectable  friend, 
with  the  following  notice  of  his  charac« 
ter  :— 

David  6.  Hott,  was  a  native 
of  Kingston,  New-Brunswick,  from 
which  place  he  removed  with  his 
father's  family,  in  the  spring  of  1804, 
to  the  city  of  New- York,  where  he 
resided  until  his  death.  His  early 
years  afford  nothing  very  remarka- 
ble, they  passed  away  as  the  spring 
of  our  lives  generally  passes,  some- 
times cheering  -him  with  the  sunshine 
of  earthly  pleasures,  at  other  times-, 
depressing  him  with  sorrows  inci- 
dent to  the  morning  of  life,  and  un- 
folding a  temper,  which,  although 
fiery  and  irrascible,  exerted  itself  to- 
wards his  friends  and  family  with  un- 
bounded kindness  and  benevolence: 
and  we  shall  not  wonder,  that  when 
twenty  years  had  stamped  his  charac- 
ter, and  he  embraced  the  religion  of 
Jesus,  that  he  did  it  with  such  ardour 
^nd  zeul,  tlmt  it  almost  amounted  to 

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40 


MrSCELLAKEOUS. 


enthusiasm :  he  seemed  to  think  with 
Dr,  Young,  tliat 

'<  On  such  a  theme  'twas  impious  to  be 
calm." 

It  was  in  the  summer  of  1 809)  at  a 
camp-meeting  on  Long-Island,  he  pro- 
fesseid  to  find  that  peace  which  passes 
all  understanding,  and  which  assur- 
ance he  maintained  until  his  death. 

Though  his  zeal  in  promoting  the 
cause  of  God  in  the  place  where  he 
resided  was  incessant,  yet  he  often 
mourned  bis  unfaithfulness  with  deep 
sorrow,  although  his  chief  foible  (if  it 
might  take  that  name)  was  a  natural 
levity  of  spirits,  which  all  the  storms 
of  adversity  that  he  encountered,  could 
not  entirely  subdue.  His  usefulness 
was  too  well  known  to  need  repeat- 
ing. The  "Night  Thoughu"  of  Dr. 
Young  seemed,  next  to  the  Bible,  to 
be  his  favourite  companion,  and  often 
when  depressed  with  affliction,  would 
he  quote  that  sentence, 

<*  His  hand  the  good  man  fastens  on  the 

skies, 
<^  Then  bids  earth  roll,  nor  heeds  her  idle 

wbu-l/' 

In  his  si(:kness  he  manifested  great 
resignation,  and  a  sure  and  certain 
liope  of  a  glorious  resurrection,  still 
oxhibiting  an  affectionate  concern  for 
the  prosperity  of  the  society  of  which 
he  was  a  member;  and  althoi^h  the 
)iains  of  his  body  were  very  great,  his 
»ci\i\  enjoyed  a  sweet  and  calm  repose : 
Ife  seemed  to  breathe  the  very  spirit 
of  bis  most  favourite  hymn,  the  fol- 
lowing verse  of  which,  before  his  sick- 
ness, he  would  sing  with  peculiar 
energy, 

"  Adieu,  adieu  all  earthly  things 
O  had  I  but  an  angel's  wings 
I'd  quickly  see  my  God." 

A  few  da^'S  before  his  death,  one 
of  his  friends  approached  his  bed-side, 
whoj  after  receiving  an  assurance  that 
he  felt  his  mind  at  peacp,  being  fear- 
ful that  he  was  not  perfectly  recollect- 
ed, she  asked  him  if  he  knew  about 
what  he  was  speaking?  "O,  Vesj" 
•=Hid  he,  <*  I  am  talking  of  the  religion  i 


of  Jesus.''  The  Saturday  before  hi& 
dissolution,  the  violence  of  his  disor- 
der produced  a  delirium  which  conti- 
nued until  his'  departure,  with  very 
little  intermission;  in  the  paroxysms 
of  which,  (though  they  frequently  un- 
mask the  soul)  he  gave  his  friends 
no  reason  to  suppose  that  the  fear  of 
death  lent  any  terrors  to  lym,  but  on 
the  contrary,  through  all  his  sickness, 
he  gave  full  proof  that  the  grace  of 
(Jod  could  make  the  Christian  meet  * 
the  king  of  terrors  with  a  smile.  An 
aflcctionate  regard  for  his  wife  and 
children,  and  his  other  relatives  and 
friends,  would  occasionally  break 
through  the  deep  gloom  which  bis 
delirium  and  intense  sufferin|s  spread 
over  us,  and  in  tl>e  afternoon  he  broke 
forth  into  singing, 

"  Then  will  I  tell  to  sinners  round, 
What  a  dear  Saviour  I  have  found." 

From  this  time  the  violence  of  hjs  db« 
order  abated  not  a  moment,  until  the 
"silver  cord"  of  life  was  broken,  and 
he  fell  asleep '  in  the  arms  of  his 
Saviour. 

Thus,  in  the  language  of  Job,  ^^  he 
sprung  up  like  a  flower,  and  was  cut 
down,"  in  the  noon-tide  of  his  man- 
hood he  withered  away.  His  sun  had 
but  just  reached  its  meridian,  when 
the  dark  clouds  of  death  hid  it  from 
our  view,  and  spread  over  us  a  night 
of  sorrow  and  grief,  illuminated  only 
by  the  brightness  of  his  departing  tes^ 
timony,  and  cheered  by  the  hope  of 
meeting  him,  "  where  parting  never 
comes,"  in  the  regions  of  eternal  re» 
pose. 

The  sun  that  now  sinks  in  the  west 

Shall  silently  rise  on  his  tomb, 
While  his  wearied  spirit's  at  rest 

Where  pleasures  unfading  shall  bloom. 
But  often  my  tears  shall  bedew 

The  place  where  his  ashes  remain, 
Where  lately  we  bade  him  adieu. 

And  soon  must  rejoin  him  again. 


BOLMORE,  PRINTEKj 

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THK 

AMERICAN 


▲VD 


UBIES  AKD  GEXTLEJSEK'B  VLASAZISIS^ 


BY  LUTHER  PRATT. 


Blessed  is  he  that  consldereth  the  poor :  the  Lord  wUl  deliver  him  in  time  of  trouble. 
Hie  Lord  win  pvewrve  him,  and  keep  him  dive ;  and  he  shall  be  blessed  upon  the 
earth :  and  thou  wilt  not  deliver  him  onto  the  will  of  his  enemies.  David. 


[No,  IL] 


FOR  M  A  T,  A.  D.  1822.  A.  L.  5822, 

J  have 

a  long  and  distressing  Uloess  of  the  Editor, 


[Vol.  n.] 


Nora— No  numbers  of  this  work  have  been  nnblished  since  September  lasty  owing  to 


MASONIC* 

Fob  THE  Masonic  Rboistkb. 
CHRISTIAN  MASON. 

VT  COMPANION  SAHUKL  WOODWOKTH. 
NO.    VI. 

In  the  preceding  number,  we  saw 
our  young  amdidaie  for  spiritual 
masonry,  introduced  into  the  porcA, 
or  outer  court  of  the  temple,  on 
''  the  hwer  pavementy  over  against 
the  length  of  the  gates/^*  where  he 
now  begins  to  labour,  not  as  a  firee- 
man,  but  as  a  bondman  or  an  eq^ 
prentice f  receiving  no  more  sphitual 
meat,  drink,  and  raiment,  than  is 
just  suffiptent  for  his  present  spiritp 
ual  wants«t  He  labours  under  a 
heavy  load  of  newly  discovered  sins ; 
and  is  the  bearer  of  <^  burthens 
grievotistobcbome.*^  He  performs 
certainpFescribed  duties,not  because 
the  path  of  du^  seems  pleasant^^but 

•  Eeekiel,  xl.  17, 18.  31. 34.  1  Kings, 
vl8.36.    2  Kings,  xxi.  6. 

t  By  meat  and  drink,  1  mean  goodness 
and  tnith,  which  are  from  the  Lord  alone. 
By  rtimeot,  I  mean  doctrines. 

-  vol..  n-  ^ 


because  he  can  in  no  other  way  ex- 
pect to  acquire  such  a  spiritual 
icnowledge  and  discipline,  as  will  se- 
cure him  a  future  reward.  In  mo- 
ments of  weakness  or  fatigue,  he 
clings  to  the  iimooovei^le  pillar, 
whose  strength  and  beauty  he  has 
already  contemplated  with  woiuier 
and  dehght,  and  looks  forward  wi^ 
hope  to  a  period  when  his  services 
wiU  become  less  arduous,  and  their 
performance  more  mroduotive  gS 
pleasure  and  profit  if  be  be  faith- 
ful in  his  services,  he  does  not  lodk 
forward  in  vain.  The  t^m  of  his 
opprenHceMp  at  length  ex^wres, 
aoKl  he  finds  nimselfpraiareif  to  be 
admitted  among  those  who  have  be- 
come/e/bi^-^cporilers  with  their  Di- 
vine Master;  <^  who  wosks  in  them 
(although  they  are  as  yet  ignorant 
of  tt^  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  own 
gooa  pleasure." 

But  as  in  the  JirH  degree,  his 
progress  was  fimi  darkness  to  Bgfat, 
so  also  must  it  be  in  this ;  for  an  even- 
ing must,  of  necesrity,  precede  every 
new  morning.  XfitBiBoftempitatum 
and  consequent  kumUUy  is  neces- 
sary to  jpnpare  the  candidate  for 

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42 


3fAS0NIC. 


a  recq»tioii  of  the  new  spiritual 
truths  about  to  be  communicated. 
It  is  true  that  he  does  not  again  find 
himself  in  total  darkness  ;  but  he  is 
madefeelingfy  sensible  that  there  is 
a  vast  difference  between  natural 
and  spiritual  knowledge.  He  per- 
ceives that  notwithstanding  one 
morning  has  dawned  upon  his  be- 
nighted mindy  and  that  he  has  been 
endowed  with  a  few  moral  truths,  he 
is  still,  comparatively, "  poor,  blind, 
and  naked/^  He  seesy  more  than 
ever,  that  it  is  necessary  to  ask  be- 
fore he  can  receive ;  to  seek  before 
he  cdnjind ;  to  kn^k  before  the 
door  of  grace  can  be  opened  to  him. 
Owing  to  the  darkness  of  his  preced- 
ing siatCy  he  had  been  prevented 
iVom  perceiving  that  he  was  under 
the  Divine  inspectiony  and  subject 
to  tlie  strictest  scrutiny  of  the  All- 
seeing  Eye.  But  now  he  is  enabled 
to  see  clearly  that  such  is  the  awful 
fact ;  and  that  hb  spiritual  existence 
depends  upon  his  shunning  evils,  as 
sins  against  God,  and  living  a  life  of 
charity y  fait hy  and  obedience.  He 
is,  however,  still  permitted  to  ima- 
gine Cm  his  present  low  state)  that 
he  laoours  from  and  by  his  own 
strength,  and  that  his  works  are, 
consequently,  meritorious — an  ex- 
pected reward  being  the  sole  end  of 
all  his  exertions. 

The  human  mind,  like  the  human 
body,  consisu  of  two  parts — an  ex- 
ternal and  an  internal;  the  latter 
being,  in  every  respect^  superior  to 
the  former.  The  internal  of  the 
human  mind  is  more  particularly 
adapted  to  the  reception  of  innate  y  or 
rather  of  tpiritucd  ideas  and  affec- 
tions, flowing  in,  immediately y  from 
the  spiritual  workl;  whereas,  tlie 
external  of  the  same  mind,  is  adapt- 
ed to  tlie  reception  of  natural  ideas 
and  affections,  flowing  in,  mediately y 
through  the  bodily  senses,  from  the 
world  of  nature.  A 11  genuine  truths, 
In  wever,  which  flow  into  the  exter- 
nal, through  the  medium  of  the 
i?rdily  senses,  may  be  elevated  or) 


exalted  into  the  inner  or  higher  re- 
gions of  the  understanding,  and  there 
become  confirmed  by  an  mterior 
light. 

While  man  is  in  a  state  of  nature^ 
thinking  of  nothing,  and  loving 
nothing  but  what  appertains  to  this 
temporary  state  of  existence,  his 
whole  mind  is  a  mere  confused  cha- 
otic mass,  mingled  up  in  rude  disor- 
der— its  internal  and  external  are 
confounded  together,  and  he  b  alto- 
gether ignorant  that  a  dbtinction, 
divbion,  or  separation,  is  either  ne- 
cessary or  possible.  But  when  he 
finally  consents  to  yield  to  those  di- 
vine impulses  which  are  continuaDy 
operating  in  his  conscience,  and  l^ 
such  yielding  receives  a  rav  of 
spiritual  Ught  into  his  understanding, 
he  then  perceives  that  there  b  awi 
ought  to  be  a  divbion  between  the 
mere  exterior  memory  and  the  inte- 
rior intellect.  The  perception  and 
acknowledgment  of  thb  important 
truth,  is  \he  second  morning  of  man's 
new  creationy  when  there  b  formed 
in  the  mind,  a  firmament  or  expanse, 
which  may  be  called  reason  orn^ 
tionahty,  to  separate  natural  fVom 
spiritual  ideas.  Thus  the  human 
mind,  when  reduced  to  order,  com- 
prises three  degreeSy  viz,  scientific, 
rational,  and  intellectual ;  and  these 
are  so  distinct  from  each  other,  that 
they  ought  never  to  be  confounded. 
These  three  mental  degrees  arc 
what  an  enlightened  mason  under- 
stands by  the  lower,  second,  and 
third  stories  of  Noah's  ark ;  and,  al- 
so, 1^  the  windows  of  the  three  sto- 
ries in  Solomon's  temple.^ 

The  mason  who  has  advanced 
two  steps  on  the  pavement  of  the  db- 
long  court,  has  ooserved  two  pillars, 
supporting  the  celestial  and  terreg^ 
trial  glebes.  These  are  expressly 
intended  to  teach  him  the  distinc- 
tion between  heavenly  and  earthly 
things,  above  alluded  to.  The  na- 
ture and  regulations  cff  the  institu- 
tion preclude  a  more  particular  ex« 
*SeelKiogs,vi.4.6w8. 

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UASONIC. 


45 


planation ;  but  this  hint  must  be  suf- 
ficient to  illustrate  the  meaning  in- 
volved in  the  subjects  of  which  we 
are  treating. 

In  the  Mosaic  account  of  the  cre- 
ation of  the  world,  we  are  told  that, 
on  the  second  day,  <^  God  made  the 
firmament,  and  divided  the  waters 
which  were  under  the  firmament, 
from  the  waters  which  were  above 
the  firmament ;  and  it  was  so.''  So 
in  the  second  degree  of  spiritual  ma- 
sonry, a  separation  is  effected,  be- 
tween celestial  and  earthly  thmgs, 
in  the  mind  of  the  humble  and  faith- 
ful candidate,  who  reverently  per- 
ceives and  acknowledges,  that  the 
former  are  from  Heaven,  and  the 
latter  from  the  world  of  nature. 
Thus  are  the  winters  of  ^ritual 
truths  divided  from  the  waters  of 
natural  scienceSj  While  the  admiring 
candidate  is  instructed  that  the  tn- 
iemal  man  is  of  a  higher  and  more 
heavenly  nature  than  the  external ; 
for  "God  called  the  firmament 
heaven;  and  the  evening  was, 
and  the  morning  was,  the  second 
day^^ 

The  internal  of  his  mind  being  now 
in  a  measure  opened  to  his  inspection, 
the  newly  initiated  brother  has  the 
satisfaction  to  find  that  it  is  plentifully 
furnished  with  moral  and  religious 
precepts,  or  the  knowledge  of  good- 
ness and  truth,  which  he  had  been 
^adually  and  imperceptibly  acquir- 
ing from  the  period  of  infancy  to  the 
present  time ;  and  which,  having 
been  forgotten  in  his  external  memo^ 
ryy  had  been  secretly  stored  up,  and 
preserved,  by  the  Lord,  in  the  tn/er- 
naL  These  remains  or  remnants 
of  spirituality,  which  are  thus  con- 
cealed in  the  mterior  of  every  human 
mind,  as  the  materials  of  a  future 
temple^  are  never  called  form  into 
use  until  the  candidate  enters  on  this 
his  second  degree  ;  they  having  been 
safely  locked  up  and  preserved  in 

*  ThitiDode  of  ciprewon  is  strictly  ac« 
cording  to  the  or^pnal  Hebrew,  evidently 
iopIyiDg  a  nutittim  of^^tual  ttaUs. 


the  secret  interior  recesses  of  his 
mind,  until  this  time,  and  fbr  this 
very  purpose.  With  these  mo^ert- 
a&,  he  now  prepares  to  work  in  earn- 
est, stimulated  only  by  the  anticipa- 
tion of  recompense  and  reward. 

An  entered  apprentice,  or  he  who 
has  only  received  the  first  degree  of 
spiritusd  masonry,  is  merely  the 
"  bearer  of  burthens''— of  "  bur- 
thens grievous  to  be  borne"— even 
the  rough  ashlars  of  conviction,  or 
those  condemning  truths  which  ar- 
ray his  sins  before  him  in  the  most 
formidable  shapes,  without  furnish- 
ing him  with  the  means  of  reducing 
them  to  order  and  subjection.  But 
now  that  he  has  become  a  feUow^ 
craft f  such  working  tools  are  put  in- 
to his  hands  as  enemle  him  to  plumb, 
and  square,  and  level,  the  rough  wo- 
teriaU  of  his  future  building,  and 
shape  them  agreeably  to  the  rules 
and  designs  laid  down  by  the  Su- 

Ereme  Architect  of  the  universe,  in 
is  spiritual  trestle-ioard,  or  the  sa- 
cred scriptures.  But  while  he  yet 
works  as  a  hireling,  those  rules  and 
designs  appear,  to  his  Umited  capa- 
city, as  completely  arbitrary.  The 
journeyman  who  squares  and  pre- 
pares a  stone  for  a  natural  building, 
knows  not  the  particular  purpose  for 
which  it  is  designed,  but  conforms ' 
implicitly  to  tlie  letter  of  his  em- 
ployer's orders,  with  no  other  end  in 
view  than  a  stipulated  recompense. 
Just  so  it  is  with  the  spiritual  crafts- 
man,  iii  this  his  second  degree.  He 
conforms,  as  far  as  in  liim  lies,  to  the 
letter  of  the  divine  law,  hoping  there- 
by to  secure  his  own  salvation  as  a 
reward  for  his  fidelity.  Such  works 
are  low,  selfishy^id  cannot  properly 
be  termed  good;  still,  however,  they 
are  as  necessary  in  the  commence- 
ment of  regeneration,  as  b  the 
squaring  and  smoothing  of  a  rough 
stone  from  the  quarry,  in  order  to  fit 
it  for  its  place  in  a  natural  edifice. 

But  although  tiie  young  spiritual 
mason  is  yet  a  novice  in  his  new  vo- 
cation'-although  he  ]i&s  only  enter- 

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44 


MASONIC. 


ed  the  cmt^cMtrtof  thetemple^aaid 
bas  scarcely  yuied  the  two  birazeii 
pillars  diat  adorn  the  porch,  he  has 
sdU  ^  consolation  to  know  that  ewo 
important  sfept  have  heen  taken  to- 
wards a  state  of  higher  iUamtnatkm ; 
and  that  the  spiritual  troths  he  has 
alriiady  acoiriredy  can  never  be  lost 
or  reimerea  uselessi  except  by  his 
own  wiUul  apostacy.  Hbeyethave 
been  opened  to  see  nis  nature!  pollu- 
tions, which  he  finds  to  be  many  and 
great  This  conviction  would  fill 
mm  Mth  consternation  and  deqpair, 
did  he  not  perceive  before  Mm^  even 
here  in  the  outer  court,  ten  pwify- 
inf  tovh-ij  pi'epared  to  wash  away 
alibis  defilements;  be^es  a  ^  6ra- 
zen  tea^  Hn  die  ririit^  eaetwoNt  to- 
wards  the  south.^'  Here  too  he  finds 
a  brazen  atUury  on  which  he  must 
wcrifce  his  wcffdly  loves  and  earth- 
ly aifectiotts;  where  die  natural  nran 
must  ultimately  be  elain  ;  where  the 
bid  man  tHth  his  deeds  must  be  put 
ofiT,  and  the  new  man  put  on^^wbere 
be  b  to  i2^  unto  si%  and  be  raieed 
again  unto  rig^iteousness.  But  these 
latter  are  worlet  appertaining  to  the 
next  degree. 

Go  on,  and  parsevere,  thou  good 
and  (idthifUl  terMml.  Another  and 
a  brighter  morning  shall  soon  arise, 
.  even  the  thirdmotmng  of  thy  new 
creaHon^  When  the  new  earth  shall 
be  crowned  with  refireshing  verdure^ 
with  ^  the  herb  yielding  seed,  and 
the  firuit-tree  yielding  fhiit,  where 
seed  is  in  ttselfl''  Then  thy  worke 
will  be  the  fndte  of  a  vivified,  and 
not,a8now,ofalifeless  faith.  Then, 
as  a  ftee  nuuter-workmany  thou  wUt 
begin  to  perceive  and  comprehend 
the  designs  of  the  great  Architect 
in  wlMse  service  thou  art  engi^^ed, 
and  thy  labours  Witt  consequently 
remit  in  more  pleasure  and  profit  to 
tihyself,  and  ikKnie  honour  and  gloiy 
to  thy  Divine  Master. 

1^  Lord  win  thos  ereate 

Afitmamtid  ttibliifte, 
CetMtial  thiagf  to  tepoate 

Fitmi  those  of  sense  and  time. 


FoK  tme  Masonic  REoisrst^ 
ST.  ALBAN'S  LODGE. 

Mr,  Editor  A  lodge  of  lioA 
name  having  recently  been  installed 
in  this  village,  I  wis  asked  by  a 
stranger  if  1  knew  what,  why,  and 
wherefore  it  had  received  that  v^ 
petlfltion.  I  tokl  him  it  was  given 
to  die  lodge  as  a  mark  of  respect  to 
one  of  die  same  name  which  had 
formerly  existed  in  this  place.  But 
he  thought  some  account  of  the 
name  would  be  acceptable,  as  he 
had  heard  a  person  cravely  state  the 
presumption  that  S^.  Afl>an  was  a 
neathen  god^  which  die  hiqairer 
took  for  granted  was  the  case.  I 
would  thmfore  infbrm  this  honest 
firiend  or  enemy,  as  the  case  tmi^  be, 
that  we  have  nothing  to  do  with  die 
fabulous  deities  of  die  anctent  my- 
thology, as  suppositig  them  really  to 
exist  \  tdthougn  we  may  sometimes 
adopt  a  name  finom  their  vocabuhuy 
when  it  is  merely  indicative  of  any 
certain  art  or  science  of  b^iefit  aikl 
use  to  mankind,  such  as  Apollo,  the 
reputed  god  of  physic,  poetry,  0sc. 
We  may  also  belong  to  St.  An- 
drew's, or  St  Tammany  lodge,  as 
well  as  St  Paul's  or  St  John's,  with- 
out implicating  our  theological  prin- 
ciples, or  prfjudice  to  Christian  or- 
thodoxy. 

To  do  justice,  however,  to  St  Al- 
ban,I  would  havethe  unenlightened 
know,  that  he  was  a  very  resnecta- 
ble  English  saim,  a  native  of  Vera* 
lam  in  Hertfordshire,  afierwards 
caltod  St  Alban's,  hi  honour  of  the 
saint,  who  sitfered  marmdom  there 
in  the  yen-  293.  He  had  been  at 
Rome  in  his  vouth,  and  seven  yeiffs 
a  soldier  in  the  army  of  Diodesian ; 
in  whose  penecution  he  Was  put  to 
death  fi»r  endiradng  ChrlBtnmity, 
and  thus  became  die  first  martyr  to 
the  doctrines  of  Jesus  in  the  Britisii 
isles.  Five  htmdred  years  after,  in 
793,  an  Mnofj  or  roonasteiy,  was 
firanded  on  im  spot  wheie  his  booes 
wtfediscovered,by  Oflii,king  ofdif* 

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MASOfaC 


45 


Merciaiis.  The  abb^  once  bdong- 
ed  to  cardinal  Wobcy.  The  town 
is  respectable  and  memorable  on 
mai^  accoimtB.  It  was  the  scene 
of  one  of  the  victories  of  CsBsar,  ob- 
tained over  Cassibdan,  and  a  Ro- 
man sta^on,  more  distinguiriied, 
however,  l^  a  victory  and  the  cruel- 
ty of  que^i  Boadicea^  who  massa- 
cred  70,000  Romans  and  Britons 
who  adhered  to  them  at  that  place. 
In  the  church  of  St.  Michael's,  m  this 
town,  is  a  monument  of  the  illustri- 
ous chancellor  Bacon,  a  native  of 
Gorhambury,  a  seat  in  its  vicinitv, 
where  is  a  statue  of  king  Henry  Sth, 
&C.,  and  a  seat  was  erected  in  the 
tieighbourhood  by  theduke  of  Marl- 
borough* 

At  St  Alban's  were  fought  two 
bloody  batttes,  in  times  m^re  recent 
than  the  reign  of  the  Romans  in 
Britain.  In  1 455,  the  duke  of  York 
and  earl  of  Warwick  defeated  and 
took  prisoner  king  Henry  6th;  and 
in  1461  queen  Margaret  defeated 
Warwick  and  retook  the  king,  stain- 
ing the  victory  by  cruelty  to  her 
prisoners.  King  Henry  was  marri- 
ed to  Anne  <^B^en  near  this  place. 

Thus  much  may  suffice  for  the 

BROOKtTN. 


For  the  Masonic  Rbgistbr. 

Mr.  £(fitor— On  the  subject  of 
pMigking  the  namcB  a£  expelled 
biedu'en,  I  do  not  agree  to  tfM^  sen- 
timents expressed  l^  you  in  your 
last  nnmber,a8Coinciding  with  those 
of  the  editor  of  the  Masonic  Miscel- 
lany. I  think  the  Grand  Lodjpeof 
this  state  have  done  perfectly  right 
in  fi)rbidding  sudi  publicatioiis.  I 
con^dertfaem  as  Hbellous,  scanda- 
lous, and  disgraceful  to  the  society 
^ch  permhs  or  requires  them. 
Charity  eoivereth  sins.  And  die 
t^iiverBal  prayer  is,-  to  teach  us  to 
^»de  the  fiuilt  we  see. 

Do  rellgiotts,  medianical,  relief, 
or  any  other  sochd  bodies,  thus  ex- 


pose the  defects  or  failings  of  theii* 
order,  by  tsumpeting  their  backslid- 
ing members  to  the  world  ?  If  the 
w^d  knows  not  who  are  ma8ons,so 
itisnoconcemof  theworjid  who  have 
forfeited*  their  right  to  the  ben^ts 
bf  masonry.  It  is  already  well  un« 
derstood  by  the  public,  that  masons 
must  not  be  infamous  lu  their  lives 
or  characters,  and  of  course,  that  bad 
members,  found  to  be  irreclaimable, 
are  expelled  from  the  society.  And 
whenever  a  man  becomes  notorious 
for  vice  and  iBunorality,it  is  taken 
for  granted  that  he  is  no  longer  m 
fellowship  with  the  masonic  order, 
whatever  may  have  been  his  former 
rank  or  reputation. 

Masonry  cannot  make  all  of  its 
pn^essors  perfect,  any  more  than 
religkin.  There  was  one  traitor 
among  the  twelve  disdples.  And 
there  is  no  society  free  from  the  in- 
cidents and  imperfectionsof  human- 
ity. But  does  masonry  or  religion 
ei\join  upon  their  votaries  the  scorn 
and  persecution  of  their  erring  or 
crinupal  brethren !  What  said  our 
Saviour  to  the  multitude  who  were 
so  clamorous  about  the  woman  ta- 
ken in  the  fact  of  guilt  ?--<^Let  hun 
that  is  without  sin  cast  the  first 
stone."  Besides,  in  publishing  the 
name  ot  an  excluded  member,  we 
should  recollect  how  many  innocent 
and  worthy  persons  of  his  family  or 
friends  we  may  wound  by  the  op- 
probrium cast  on  him. 

Carstbe  the  verse^owever  smooth  it  flowt 
That  serves  to  make  one  worthy  man  mf 

foei 
Give  virtue  pain*  offend  an  honest  ear, 
Or  draw  from  soft-eyed  innocence  a  tcar-^ 

says  the  benevolent  poet.  And  the 
philanthropic  and  humane  would 
sooner  let  twenty  criminals  escape 
unpunished,  than  through  one  of^ 
femler  inflict  punishment  on  many 
innocent 

I  have  always  viewed  with  re- 
gret this  practice  of  posting  ex- 
pelled masons.  I  believe  it  to  be 
totally  unnecessary,  and  evincmg  a 

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46 


UA&OKIO. 


fastidious  and  prudish  tenacity  of 
reputation  not  warranted  by  the  ex- 
ample of  other  societies,  nor  requir- 
ed by  a  correct  opinion  of  the  true 
interests  of  our  institution.  In  fact 
It  must  operate  iryuriously  to  the 
order,  by  holding  out  to  the  uniniti- 
ated the  terrors  of  an  Inquisitorial 
ordeal  ahd  excommunication^  or 
anathema,  by  "  bell,  (and  instead  of 
book)  n«r«pcipcr,  and  candle,"  for 
breaches  of  by-laws,  and  offences 
against  technical  regulations  of 
which  they  iiave  no  knowledge,  and 
must  therefore  entertain  a  frightful 
idea.  Many,  doub^ess,  are  deter- 
red from  becoming  members  by  this 
unknown  fear,  however  unfounded 
it  may  eventually  prove.  I  sincere- 
ly rejoice  that  the  Grand  Lodge 
have  80  pointedly  condemned  and 
forbidden  the  practice  5  and  am 
really  glad  that  the  matter  has  be- 
come so  public,  in  the  sincere  hope 
and  trust  that  it  cannot  fail  to  incite 
and  determine  other  lodges  to  "  go 
and  do  likewise.'^ 

KEW-YQKK. 

FESTIVAL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

Through  the  kiDdness  of  our  worthy 
Brother,  Edward  M.  Geifhuo,  editor  of 
th*  People's  Friend,  at  LiUle-FaUs,  we 
have  been  favoured  with  a  copy  of  the 
following  Discourse,  delivered  at  the 
Festival  of  the  Nativity  of  St  John  the 
Evangclbt,  at  Danube,  county  of  Herki- 
mer, state  of  New-Tork,  on  the  27th  of 
December  last. 

MASOMC  DISCOURSE. 

BY  REV.  P.  L.  WHIFFLE. 

Rev.  op  St.  John,  ii,  17. 

To  him  that  overcometh  toiU  I  give 
to  eat  of  the  hidden  manna,  and 
wiUgive  him  a  white  stone,  and 
in  the  stone  a  new  name  xontten^ 
which  no  man  knoweth  saving  he 
that  receiveth  it. 
Glorious  and  interesting  are  two 

eras  in  the  world :  the  one,  when  Di- 


vine light  first  shone  from  Heaveil 
to  illumine  the  human  mind,  and  fit 
it  for  eternal  felicity — the  other, 
when  sympathy,  order,  and  harmo- 
ny, laid  the  foundation  for  improve- 
ment in.  the  arts  and  sciences.  The 
former  is  the  life,  the  consolation 
and  su^rt  of  the  Chrbtiaii  Church ; 
while  the  latter  coHstituted,  and 
now  preserves,  in  oane  commoB 
brotherhood^  the  MAsomc  FitATSKr 

NITY. 

Ever  since  these  two  societies 
have  had  an  existence,  many  indi- 
viduak  in  each  have  spread  a  lustre 
over  their  private  andpubUc  charac- 
ters, added  a  distinguished  honotir 
to  their  order,  and  crowned  their 
names  with  the  wreath  of  immor'- 
tality.  Among  these  personages, 
some  have  stood  conspicuous  in 
bo^  Such  was  St.  John  the  Evan* 
gelist,  whose  day  is  now'celebrated, 
not  only  by  our  ancient  order  office 
and  accepted  masons,  but  also  by 
a  large  portion  of  i^e  Chrisdaa 
Church.  He  YfBs  that  diedple  wham 
Jesus  iovec?  with  peculiar  affection, 
as  a  proof  of  which,  he  kindly  ero*. 
braced  him  to  his  bosom,  and  this 
love  was  reciprocated  ¥rith  sinceri^ 
and  ardour.  While  his  Saviour  was 
on  earth,  this  Apostle  was  ever  ready 
to  follow  him^tnrough  dangers  ever 
so  alarming,  and-  perils  even  uitfo 
death. 

Hb  master  was  arraigned  m  the 
High  Priest^s  hall — ^he  was  there; 
condenmed  at  the  Judgment  seat — 
he  was  there  also ;  crucified  on  C^ 
vary — ^he  was  there  too,  and  received 
the  affectionate  lega^  of  his  Lord, 
the  blessed  Maiy. 

After  this  he  b  found  in  Asia,  la- 
bounug  in  the  apostohc  ofiice,  where 
he  founded  six  of  the  seven  Asiatic 
Churches;  his  conduct  coming* to 
the  knowledge  of  the  emperor  I>o- 
midan,  thb  cruel  tyrant  ordered  him 
to  be  cast  into  a  caldron  of  buming^ 
oil ;  but  he  possessed  in  his  heart  the 
hidden  mannay  and  held  the  mhi^ 
<<ofie,whichnow  preserved  him.  The 

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fury  of  the  flame  consumed  him  not ; 
for  the  same  power  which  before  had 
rescued  from  the  burning  furnace, 
now  rescued  him  from  the  devour- 
ing element. 

Not  content  with  such  a  display 
of  Divine  interposition,  the  tyrant 
again  rabed  the  persecuting  hand, 
and  banished  the  saint  to  the  Island 
ofPatmos.  During  this  banishment 
he  wrote  his  Revelation,  which, 
more  than  any  other  inspired  writ- 
ing, is  filled  with  mysteries.  Of 
these,  we  have  now  only  to  speak  of 
the  passage  selected,  which  is  a  part 
of  the  address  to  the  Angel,  or  Bishop 
of  the  Church  in  Pergamos;  and  the 
Instruction  which  it  contains,  may 
now  be  applied  to  us,  as  well  as  to 
all  mankind. 

An  explanation  of  its  eniblems, 
-will  lead  to  a  useful  application  to 
Christians,  and  to  Masons. 

The  first  emblem  is  the  hidden 
manna. 

The  visible  manna  is  that  food 
which  the  Almighty  rained  down 
irom  above,  to  feed  tihe  starving 
Israelites,  in  the  wilderness;  a  pot  i 
of  this  was  preserved,  which,  ac- 
cording to  a  tradition  oC  the  Jews, 
was  hidden  by  king  Josiah,  together 
with  other  sacred  deposites.  These, 
as  some  have  supposed,  were  pre- 
served, through  masonic  art,  during 
the  time  that  Jerusalem  was  taken, 
and  held  by  the  Chaldeans.  They 
were  expected  to  be  restored  at  the 
coming  of  the  Messiah,  and  then  the 
hidden  manna  did  come,  for  whoev- 
er participates  in  the^aceof  Ckrist, 
receives  the  hidden  manna. 

Another  emblem  in  the  text,  b 
the  white  stone^  and  in  the  stone  a 
new  name  written :  two  ancient  cus- 
toms existed,  to  either  of  which  this 
might  allude,  the  one  is  that  which 
was  observed  by  Judges,  in  giv- 
ing their  sufiTraffes  by  white  and 
'  black  pebbles  5  uose  who  gave  the 
former  were  for  absolving  the  cul- 
prit— those  who  gave  the  latter  were 
tor  his  condemnation. 


MASONIC.  47 

According  to  this  allusion,  tlie 
white  stone  carries  with  it  the  evi- 
dence of  pardon  and  acquittance,  as 
expressed  by  a  classic  poet : 

«  A  custom  was  of  old  and  still  remains^ 
Which  life  or  death  by  snflfrages  ordains  ; 
WhUe  Hfma  and  black  withia  an  am  are 

cast, 
The ftnt  absolves,  hni  fate  is  in  the  /oif." 

The  other  allusion  of  the  white 
stone  is  to  the  custom  of  conqnerore 
in  the  ancient  public  games,  who 
were  not  only  conducted,  with  great 
pomp,  into  their  own  city  and  resi- 
dence, but  had  a  white  stone  given 
them,  on  which  their  names  were  in^ 
scribed.  This  badge  entitled  them 
during  their  whole  life  to  a  main- 
tenance at  the  puUic  expense.  A- 
mong  the  Romans,  these  were  call- 
ed tessera,  and  were  divided  into 
several  kinds,  one  of  which  had  a 
striking  resemblance,  in  the  privi- 
leges which  it  granted,  to  our  ma^ 
sonic  emblem,  or  white  stone.  To 
this  the  comedian  Plauttis  refers  in 
one  of  his  acts,  in  which  is  represent> 
ed  a  conversation  between  two  un- 
known persons.  Whoever  held  one 
of  these,  had  a  right  to  entertain- 
ment in  the  house  of  those  who 
originally  gave  it  5  devices  were  in^ 
scribed  on  the  tessera,  which  com- 
memorated a  friendly  contract;  and 
as  the  parts  were  interchanged,  none 
could  know  the  device,  or  the  reason 
of  the  contract,  save  him  who  re- 
ceived it.  It  gave  the  bearer  a  right 
to  the  offices  of  hospitality ;  when 
produced,  he  was  accommodated 
with  food,  lodging,  and  all  other 
necessaries. 

The  application  of  this  to  the  de- 
vices and  principles  of  our  fraterni- 
ty, can  easily  be  made,  by  every 
brother  instructed  in  hb  art.  As  ap- 
plicable to  Clirbtians,  he  who  is 
elsewhere  said  to  have  "  the  earnest 
of  the  spirit,"  has  the  tessera  of  the 
text :  he  alone  knows  the  contract 

I  between  Christ  and  his  ;soul;  and 
when  he  has  obtained  this  badge,  he 
becomes  entitled  to,  and  actually  re* 

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48 


MASONIC. 


ceives  the  succour,  support,  and 
grace  of  Christ,  and  is  admitted  into 
fellowship  with  his  saints  in  his  holy 
Church;  and  in  a  more  exalted 
Chnstian  view,  the  words  of  our  ho- 
ly Saint  imply,  that  "  he  who  en- 
dureth  unto  the  end''  in  the  exercise 
of  virtue,  shaU,  at  his  entrance  into 
the  eternal  world,  possess  a  badge  of 
distinction  with  an  inscription  known 
only  to  himself,  which  shall  give 
him  a  title  to  the  ioys  of  eternal  life 
in  the  kingdom  of  Heaven. 

But  let  us  apply  the  subject  to  our 
order.  It  is  said,  he  that  overcom- 
eth  shah  receive  the  **  hidden  mys- 
tcries.**  We  would  first  address 
ourselves  to  strangers,  who  have 
never  been  initiated  withm  the  walls 
of  our  temple.  Do  you  not  know 
^▼hat  are  the  fundamental  principles 
of  our  art?  Do  you  not  loiow  that 
our  object  is  to  improve  ourselves  and 
do  good  to  die  world,  and  es^cially 
to  a  distressed  brother  and  his  fami- 
ly? And  do  you  not  know,  that 
our  society  must  ere  this  have  fallen 
Co  ruin,  had  it  actuaOy  been  founded 
in  iniquity,  and  maintained  by  some 
diabolical  spirit,  as  some  have  been 
pleased  to  afiirm  ?  No,  my  friends, 
the  foundation  of  our  order  is  virtue 
in  en  extended  sense.  Ages  can 
witness  its  existence ;  ages  can  witp 
ness  its  acts  of  kindness— and  no 
age  can  witness  discord  or  conten- 
tion among  the  assembled  craft. 
Behold  our  Temple  erected  in  every 
regrioD  of  the  world.  From  the  fro- 
zen countries  of  the  Norths  to  the 
burainff  dime  of  the  South,  her 
beautiful  cohmms  are  displayed; 
and  many  of  her  workmen  are  not 
only  her  brightest  ornaments,  but 
also  the  brightest  ornaments  of  so- 
ciety. 

Let  not  that  sophistry  afiright 
you,  which  is  so  frequently  brought 
against  us,  that  because  some  of  our 
members  are  unworthy  and  of  an 
abandoned  character,  our  princi|^ 
Bre  the  cause,  and  that  pur  instruc- 
tions lead  to  such  a  wayward  course. 


No  such  fallacy  can  have  weight 
with  any  reasonable  man;  for  the 
same  reasoning  would  d^troy  the 
most  valuable  institutions  in  sodetVf 
which  must  all  be  corrupted,  wbue 
man  retains  in  his  heart  the  stain  of 
sm.  Remove  then  your  pr^udices; 
he  that  overcometh  these,  and  the 

Cyrils  of  mitiation  into  a  regular 
odge,  shall  emphatically  receive 
^  a  white  stone,  and  in  it  a  new  name 
written,  which  no  man  knoweth 
saving  ne  that  recei  veth  it«^  Like  the 
Roman  tessera,  this  will  enti^  you 
to  a  friendly  reception  among  all 
our  Brethren;  and  by  it  you  can 
show  and  communicate  that  com- 
pact, which  unites  us  together,  and 
forms  a  tms  versa/ 2ai^^iM^  through- 
out the  world. 

In  an  application  of  this  subject 
to  masons,  remember,  brediren,  the 
words,  *<  he  that  overcometh.^  It 
is  the  worthy  brother  onW  who  is 
entitled  to  our  most  valuable  privi- 
leges : 

«  Not  tboM  who  visk  Lodges, 
"  To  €at  and  drink  their  fill ; 

'*  Not  those  who  at  our  meeting 
**  Hear  Lectures  'gainst  theb  wHI; 

«  But  only  those  whose  itleasaie, 

*'  At  every  lodge  can  be, 
"  T  improve  themselves  by  Lectores 

«'  In  glorioat  Masonry/* 

We  must  overcome  vice  and 
wickedness,  and  practise  the  princi- 
ples which  are  inculcated  m  our 
Lectures.  These  are  the  highest 
moral  vurtues ;  yea,  they  are.  UlMh 
tian  virtucB, 

Let  us  for  a  moment  dwell  upcm 
some  of  them.  The  first  and  roost 
fundamental  virtue  of  masonry  is  be- 
nevolence or  Charity.  Whatever 
the  world  may  say  against  our  soci- 
ety, it  is  an  established  truth,  that 
she  has  ever  been  distinguished  fbr 
her  acts  of  charity.  How  many 
suffering  brothers  has  she  raised 
from  pinching  want !  How  roasy  has 
she  preserve^,  for  the  present,  even 
from  the  pangs  of  death  \  How  many 
widows  and  orphans,  shivering  with 


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oold  and  hunger,  have  been  made  to 
smile  with  joy  mider  her  fostering 
hand!  Yes,  even  in  an  enemy's 
camp  has  she  staid  the  hosdie 
weapon,  when  raised  with  murder* 
ous  hand.  Time  would  fail  us  to 
enumerate  particular  instances :  let 
us,  therefore,  while  we  reflect  on 
their  existence,  be  ourselves  en- 
couraged to  persevere  in  the  exer- 
cise of  this  ennobling  virtue,  with- 
out which  all  others  are  accounted 
as  nothing.  This  is  the  basis  of 
eivil  society ;  under  tlie  exercise  of 
this,  are  made  those  concessions 
which  diminish  the  natural  liberties 
of  man,  and  open  the  way  to  the  en- 
joyment of  all  civil  rights.  From 
this,  community  consents  to  be  gov- 
erned by  human  laws,  and  the  in- 
nocent are  not  to  suffer  from  the 
iron  rules,  which  are  enacted  for  the 
guilty.  Let  the  governors,  or  gov- 
erned discard  this,  and  you  would 
90on  behold,  on  the  one  hand,  ty- 
ranny raise  her  oppressive  sceptre, 
and  destroy  every  vestige  of  civil 
liberty ;  while  on  the  other  hand, 
savage  brutality  would  draw  the 
l^oody  dagger,  and  bury  it  in  the 
breasts  of  the  most  virtuous  and 
wise. 

The  effects  of  bcne\'olence  on  so- 
ciety are  no  where  more  apparent 
and  cheering  than  in  social  llfow 
As  neighbours  and  friends  we  are 
all  dependent,  and  ol^ects  of  chari- 
ty; 3^et  through  the  influence  of 
this  virtue,  our  wants  are  relieved— 
our  misfortunes  are  soothed— our 
beds  of  sickness  are  sweetened— and 
even  our  entrance  into  the  eternal 
world  is  consoled  with  the  reflection, 
that  our  bodies  are  not  to  be  left  to 
brutal  voraci^.  On  this  theme,  the 
philosopheil',  and  the  poet  might 
dwell  with  pleasure  and  delight,  in 
gratifying  uie  imagination ;  but  the 
well  instructed  mason,  as  well  as  the 
Christian,  b  led  not  only  to  eulo- 
gize charity,  but  Jt-so  to  venerate 
that  Divine  Being  who  is  the  source 
•f  inflnite  benevotoice }  whose  fa- 

VOL.  II.  7 


HAtomc*  4B 

vours  to  us  are  too  Enumerable  and 
glorious  fbr  pen  to  aescribe  in  suf- 
ficiently glowing  colours;  butcouM. 
our  hearts  duly  feel  their  extent,  we 
should  never  leave  the  distressed  in 
want,  while  strength  remained  to 
raise  the  hand  of  charity. 

Another  theme  on  which  the  ma* 
son  delights  to  expatiate,  is  brother^ 
ly  love :  by  this  we  are  taught  to 
regard  the  whole  human  species  as 
one  common  family ;  to  meet  on 
the  level  with  the  high,  the  low,  the 
rich,  and  ^e  poor ;  and  centre  our 
esteem  on  him  only,  who  possesses 
that  spirit  by  which  the  Christian 
knows  that  he  has  **  passed  from 
death  unto  life.'^  By  this  the  king 
descends  from  his  lofty  throne :  lays 
down  his  crown,  and  meets  his  hum- 
ble subject  on  the  same  level.  By 
this  we  preserve  that  union,  which 
extends  from  pole  to  pole,  and 
would  enable  us  to  find  a  friend  in 
the  suspicious  Chinese ;  the  cruel 
Arab ;  the  malicious  Spaniard  ^  and 
even  in  the  treacherous  Turk. 

Shall  it  be  in  vain,  brethren,  that 
we  inculcate  brotherly  love,  when 
assembled  in  our  lodge  rooms  ?  Shalf 
we  not  rather  exercise  it,  when  we 
are  at  labour  in  the  great  lodge  of 
the  universe,  whose  covering  is  the 
canopy  of  heaven ;  whose  length  is 
firom  north  to  south;  and  whose 
breadth  extends  from  east  to  west  ? 

But  to  participate  in  this  love, 
which  is,  in  fact  our  ^<  hidden  man- 
na," we  must  remember  that  the 
^<  white  stone,"  with  its  inscription, 
b  not  the  only  requisite  :  one  thing 
b  lefl  to  ourselves,  we  must  ovev 

COfMC* 

Hatred  and  malice  must  be  erad- 
icated from  the  heart,  so  that  on  aU 
occasions  we  may  be  ready  to  man* 
ifest  to  others  what  we  would  re- 
ceive ficom  them.  We  cannot  ex- 
ercise the  virtues  of  brother^  love 
and  charity,  without  ruling  our  pas- 
sions, and  r^uladng  our  hid>itB ;  to 
efiect  which,  we  are  directed  to 
practise  the  cardinal  virtues  of  T€a»* 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


M 


JULMMIC 


Justice.  By  a  faithful  '^utherenoe 
to  these,  eveiy  mawm  will  easily 
avoid  those  quicksands  of  intamper* 
ance  and  vice,  on  which  so  many 
are  stranded,  and  after  struggling  in 
vain  to  be  rescued,  at  last  cjrop  into 
the  gulf  of  despair,  and  then  sink 
into  final  ruin.  May  we  avoid  sudi 
adownfalas  this,  by  never  entering 
the  path  which  leads  toward  it ! 

Here,  brethren,  is  whece  we  err. 
The  change  from  the  most  exalted 
virtue  to  the  most  debasing  vice, 
is  not  generally,  like  descending  a 
precipice;  but  more  resembLes  the 
descent,  by  some  gentle  dedivi^, 
from  a  mountain,  with  a  beautiud 
and  extended  summit,  to  some  far 
distant  valley,  where  nothing  but 
thorns  and  rugged  hedges  grow. 
Ent^  not  thisdMcent,  for  ifwe  pass 
the  border  of  the  summit,  we  are 
almost  sure  to  glide  along,  until  we 
are  ensnared  in  the  thorny  hedge. 

Brethren,  he,  in  whose  honour  we 
are  assembled,  possessed  that  hidden 
manna,  and  those  other  virtues, 
which  entitled  him  to  carry  the 
white  stone,  and  in  the  moment  of 
danger  delivered  him  from  the  burn- 
ing chaldron  of  oil. 

Do  we  also  possess  the  same  hid- 
den manna,  with  the  virtues  and  gra- 
ces in  which  we  are  tau^t,  to  such  a 
degree  as  to  entitle  us  to  wear  with 
honour  tiie  badge  of  a  mason,  which 
transcends  what  kings  or  emperors 
can  confer;  to  carry  with  re^ct 
that  invisible  white  stone  of  our  or- 
der, whose  inscription  no  one  knows 
saving  he  that  has  received  it,  and 
finally  be  able  to  pass  through  dan- 
ger under  a  protecting  defence  ? 

But  to  close— ftreSnen,  and  all 
who  hear  me,  never  would  I  speak 
so  much  in  praise  <^  masonry ;  never 
would  I  dip  my  pen  to  write  its 
eulogy ;  never  would  I  exert  my 
feeble  powers  of  oratory  in  its  favour, 
did  it  not  inculcate  our  holy  reli- 
gion^  but  when  I  reflect  that  this  is 
inon^itslii^  yea,  thai  it  is  the 


\finAUght^  ^Uch  ilieeis  the  in<|iiiiv 
ing  pilgrim,  when  ^e  shade  of  dark* 
ness  is  removed,  and  he  beholds  the 
first  mysteries  of  our  art :  when  I 
reflecton  this,  I  say,  I  would  net 
cease  to  wfefk  its  praise  ontO  onr 
Voice  should  falter,  and  my  breath 
fail  f  On  this  theme,  which  is  our 
only  cheering  light,  I  love  to  dwell 
This  with  rehictanoe  I  leave;  for 
the  tongue  of  eulogy  and  the  geniitt 
of  eloquence  are  exerted  in  vain  la 
show  its  merit.  It  is  <<  the  still  small 
voice,'^  which  whispers  to  the  soul, 
and  tells  us  of  its  diarms,  while  it 
breathes  into  the  heart  the  hidden 
manna  of  Divine  grace. 

GERMAN  PRBCBPT. 

Honour  the  fathers  of  die  state  ; 
love  thy  countnr;  he  re%ioosly 
scrupulous  in  fulfilling  all  the  duties 
of  a  good  citizen ;  consider  that 
they  are  become  peculiarly  sacred 
by  thy  voluntary  masonic  vow;  and 
that  the  violation  of  them,  which  m 
one,  not  under  such  dbltgations, 
would  be  weakness,  would  inthet 
be  hypocrisy  and  criminality. 

DEDICATION. 
On  the  25th  of  June  last,  the  new 
Masonic  Hall,  bdonging  to  St.  Pat- 
rick's Lodge,  in  Louisville,  in  the 
state  of  Georgia,  was  scdemnly  dedi- 
cated to  M  AsoNRT,  vntTUK,  and  om- 
vsKSAL  BSNK voLif NCB,  by  the  grand 
lodge  of  that  state,  assisted  by  a 
number  of  the  subordinate  lodges. 
The  ceremonies  were  attended  by  a 
large  and  respectable  concourse  of 
citizens,  both  ladies  and  gentlemen. 
An  exordium  on  raaacmry  was  pra* 
nounced  by  ^e  rig^  woohipful 
WauAM  ScFi^T,  grand  master; 
and  an  appropriate  oration  was  d^ 
livered  by  brother  Daniu  floo^f 

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itA^mc 


91 


9«iior  warden  of  St.  Paitrick's  lodge.  H 
We  have  been  favoured  with  a  copy  y 
of  the  exordium^  by  our  worthy 
brother  and  companion  Biekjett  D. 
Tbompson,  and  with  pleasure  give  it 
«  place  in  the  Masonic  Reoistbr. 
The  oration  has  not  yet  come  to  hand. 

EXORDIUM.  I 

My  Brethren  and  Friends^ 

Man,  as  he  came  from  the 
hands  of  liis  great  Creator,  was  pure, 
innocent,  and  undeflled.  He  want- 
ed not  the  aid  of  human  wisdom, 
and  human  institutions,  to  render 
his  condition  in  life  happy.  He 
stood  in  no  need  of  the  artificial  ties, 
which,  since  the  fall,  have  so  often 
and  80  greatly  added  to  the  comfort 
of  man.  No !  he  then  was  pure 
and  harmless,  the  favourite  of  his 
great  Creator,  fearing  nothing,  de- 
siring nothing.  All  nature  ^re  a 
pleasing,  delightful  aspect  The 
lion  and  the  lamb  tenanted  one  fold, 
uid  peace,  universal  peace,  pervad- 
ed the  extended  field  of  nature.  No 
jarring  discord,  nor  envious  hate  ^ 
no  misery,  the  ofispring  of  crime, 
nor  misery,  the  offspring  of  misfor- 
tune; no  jealous  eye,  nor  revenge- 
ful desire ;  no  hunger,  nor  thint, 
nor  nakedness ;  no  malice,  nor  cru- 
elty, nor  angry  passimis,  Uien  wen? 
known,  to  corrupt  the  heart,  or  mar 
the  happiness  of  man.  The  great 
Creator,  well  pleased  with  hb  work, 
benignandy  smiled ;  all  nature  join- 
ed inth  one  aecoid  to  praise  his 
great  name ;  and  man  stood  erect 
under  the  smiles  of  Heaven  with  joy 
and  gratitude,  adoring  the  eternal 
Author  and  Finisher  of  all.  How 
happy  then  was  he !  little  did  he 
know  liis  future  fyie;  the  misery 
which  future  transgression  should 
bring  on  him  and  his  posterity. 
But,  alas!  sin  entered  the  world; 
man  fell  from  his  higfi  station,  and 
sickness,  pain,  and  death,  and  all  the 
ills  that  man  is  heir  to,  fbliowed  in 
th^tn»in. 


Wretched  and  d#|riorable  indeed, 
would  hii  condition  then  have  beett, 
tf  his  heaveidy  Father  had  not  still 
protected,  and  loved,  and  cherished 
him.  Yes !  God  still  loved  jnan. 
wayward,  sinful  man,  and  provided 
a  ransom  for  his  fiiture  mlvation. 
Means  are  still  provided  by  the  mu- 
nificent hand  of  his  maker,  for  hit 
impiovementy  pleasure,  aiMl  happi- 
ness in  this  world,  through  the  aid 
(^]|is  social  nature,  which  powerful* 
Iv  contributes  to  these  great  ends. 
Mankind  thus  situated,  and  con- 
scious of  their  own  individual  weak- 
ness, found  it  necessary  to  form  so* 
cieties  of  difierent  kin^,  for  the  mu- 
tual good  of  all.  Hence  the  estab- 
lishment of  religious,  moral,  and 
political  institutions ;  the  co-opera- 
tion of  individuate  to  promote  the 
pul^icgood;  to  extend  the  arts  and 
sciences ;  to  civilize  the  heathen ; 
to  supnress  vice  and  immorality  ;  to 
extend  the  gospel  to  the  utmost 
bounds  of  the  earth;  to  minister  the 
cup  of  consolation  to  the  wretched  ; 
to  extend  the  hand  of  charity  and 
wipe  the  falling  tear  from  the  eye  of 
distress  ;  to  relieve  the  unfortunate 
of  every  nation,  and  generally,  to 
meliorate  the  condition  of  man, 
whilst  journeying  through  this  wil- 
derness of  wo ;  becoming  a  pillar 
of  cloud  by  day,  to  protect  fi-om 
pain,  and  a  pillar  of  fire  by  night,  to 
light  his  footsteps  in  the  patos  of  truth 
and  virtue,which  lead  to  the  promised 
land.  The  great  eood  which  has 
been  produced,  by  me  instrumental- 
ity orthese  various  associatic^s,  has 
ohen  been  attested  by  the  incense 
which  burns  on  the  altar  of  grateful 
hearts.  But,  the  aggregate  of  hap 
pmess  which  flows  fi-om  these  sour- 
ces, time  can  never  unfold;  and 
how  much  misery  has  been  prevents 
ed,  eternity  alone  can  bring  to  light. 

Among  all  the  various  institMtionii 
which  have  been  established,  either 
religious,  political,  or  moral,  for  the 
melioration  of  the  condition  of  man, 
none   stands    more  .pre-eminently 

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52 


MASONIC 


conq>ieuou8  for  charity ^beoevoleacey 
ahd  humanity,  than  the  masonic. 
In  point  of  intrinsic  excellence,  and 
universal  prevalence,  it  ranks  infi- 
nitely superior  to  any  other  of  human 
origin.  The  very  nature  and  exist- 
ence of  man,  necessarily  creates  a 
relation,  which  binds  man  to  man ; 
and  masonry,  as  a  eocial  compact 
adds  increasmg  weight  and  force  to 
each  original  obligation.  Friend- 
ship, charity,  and  brotherly  loive, 
file  enjoined  and  cultivated.  "  Oh! 
what  celestial  balm  does  friendship 
pour  into  tKe  troubled  heart !"  It 
soothes  affliction,  alleviates  pain, 
revives  -the  drooping  heart,  and 
gives  to  life  a  value,  far  bevond 
its  real  worth.  In  the  -social  hour, 
friendship  gives  a  new  zest  to  every 
joy ;  and,  in  the  hour  of  distress,  it 
is  a  prop  for  the  wounded  heart  to 
rest  upon.  Charity!  thou  godlike 
virtue — thee  we  hail,  as  the  bond  of 
pcrfectness,  the  pole  star  of  mason- 
ry. Thou  givest  bread  to  the  hun- 
gry, and  raiment  to  the  naked ;  thou 
givest  comfort  and  relief  to  the  poor 
and  the  needy,  the  wretched  and 
the  forlorn ;  and  thy  mantle  covers 
the  many  imperfections  of  fhul, 
miserable,  deluded  man.  And  thou 
too,  brotheriy  love!  come  thou,  and 
brmg  with  thee  truth  and  universal 
benevolence.  Come  ye,  and  draw 
your  chairs  round  the  social  fire ;  ye 
too  are  necessary  to  form  the  bright 
galaxy  of  masonic  attributes  !  But 
are  these  all  ?  No  !  there  is  yet  one 
wanting,  to  complete  the  curcle. — 
Here  sne  comes :  welcome  thou  di- 
vine messenger  of  peace ;  thou  Ho- 
ly Religion ;  Come,  draw  thy  chair, 
and  maJce  us  full  f  preside  thou  over 
these  earthly  worthies,  and  give  di- 
rection to  their  eeal.  What  a  bless- 
ed circle,  my  friends,  is  this?  This 
circle,  whose  centre  is  the  great, 
the  adorable  Jehovah !  before  Him,« 
all  masons  are  taught  to  bow  with 
reverence ;  Him,  they  are  taught  to 
obey,  love,  and  adore. 
But,  methinks  I  hear  some  of  you 


say,  ^  is  tiot  thb  painting  a  carica- 
ture ;  can  all  this  be  true  ?"    Tet^ 
my  friends,  aH  this  is  true.     A  just* 
er  portrait  never  was  drawn  by  the 
combined  powers  of  Raphael  and 
Titian.    'Tis  true  that  the  likeness 
is  not  always  seen ;  because  the  be- 
holder, sometimes  from  ignorance^ 
and  sometimes  from  design,^  places 
himself  in  that  direction  fiom  the 
picture,  whence  he  can  only  see  the 
dark  shade,  which  forms  the  back 
ground  of  Uie  painting.    But  the 
man  of  taste  and  feeling,  who,  with- 
out prejudice,   views  this  portrait 
from  a  situation,  where  he  can  have 
the  advantage  of  the  rays  of  light 
properly  thrown  on  the  canvass,  witt 
be  forced  to  declare    the  likeness 
tnie. 

We  are  not  disposed  to  deny  that 
there  are  black  spots  in  the  sun  of 
masonry.  But  are  there  not  black 
spots  sometimes  seen  even  in  the 
gveat  luminary  of  the  solar  system  ? 
And  shall  we  despise  the  ble»ed 
light  he  gives  us,  because  he  b  iMt 
spotless?  No!  myfi'iends,  we  hail 
with  joy  and  delight  his  enlhrening 
rays,  although,  sometimes,  heni^ 
be  eclipsed  by  the  intervention  of  an 
opaque  body. 

We  know,  and  we  regret  it  too, 
that  many  masons  act  very  differ- 
ently firom  the  profession  they  maJce, 
and  are  actually  a  disgrace  to  the 
society,  and  to  human  nature.  But 
this  argues  nothing  against  mason- 
ry ;  if  ^ere  were  no  bod  men  in  so- 
ciety, except  the  few  who  are  to  be 
found  witliin  the  pales  of  the  lodge, 
then  indeed,  we  should  cease  to  sing 
the  praises  of  masonry.  No  argu- 
mtet  can  be  drawn  from  the  vice 
and  immorality  of  bad  masons, 
whereby  to  condemn  the  instiuition, 
or  the  virtuous  members.  As  well 
might  you  say,  that  because  there 
are  some  vile,  profligate  men,  whe 
disgrace  the  nature  ^ey  bear,  there 
arc  therefore  no  vurtuous  men,  be- 
cause all  men  are  human,  and  pos- 
sess the  same  paBsions.    How  would 

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MASONIC. 


Sg 


such  az^gument  comport  with  com* 
xnoR  sense  ^  Does  your  reason  as- 
sent to  it?  No!  reason  must  have 
lost  her  empire,  and  folly  usurped 
the  throne,  before  the  human  mind 
can  be  forced  to  such  conchisions. 

My  ]&iends,  we  are  willing  that 
masonry  shall  be  tested  by  its  own 
intrinsic  excellence  and  utilitv.  If 
it  has  ever  been  productive  of  inju- 
ry to  society,  it  deserves  to  be  rep- 
robated and  annihilated.  But  if  it 
has  never  caused  any  evil,  and  on 
the  contrary  has  ever  produced 
the  smallest  good,  it  deserves  to  be 
praised  and  cherished. 

If  masonry  has  ever  done  evil  in 
the  world,  I  am  ignorant  of  the  evi- 
dence which  establishes  the  fact : 
and  I  defy  all  the  powers  of  earth 
and  hell  to  establish  one  solitary  in- 
stance, in  which  masonic  principles 
or  practice  have  prodiiced  injury  to 
society,  in  any  pomt  of  view,  either 
legal  or  political,  moral  or  religious. 

I  assert  then,  without  the  fear  of 
comradlction,  that  masoniy  never 
iias  done,  and  never  will  do  any  in- 
jury; and  I  assert  too,  that  it  has 
done  more  moral  good  in  the  world, 
than  any  other  society  that  ever  ex- 
isted. That  this  is  true,  the  world 
has  ample  evidence,  although  we 
do  not  go  on  the  house-top  to  pro- 
claim our  benevolence. 


If  any,  even^the  most  abject  indi- 
vidual of  the  human  race,  has  been 
relieved  from  want  and  misery  by 
the  benevolent  hand  of  masonry,  it 
deserves  to  be  fostered.  If  masonry 
pours  the  bahn  of  consolation  inte 
the  wounded  heart,  and  grants  re- 
lief to  the  distressed  widow  and  help- 
less orphan,  it  deserves  to  b<^  cher- 
ished. If  misery,  and  want,  and 
hunger,  and  thirst,  and  nakedness, 
have  never  cried  in  vain  to  masonry, 
then  indeed  it  deserves  to  be  prais- 
ed. And  until  tmth,  justice,  benev- 
olence, friendship,  and  brotherly 
love,  cease  to  be  virtues;  and  chari* 
ty,  the  principal  round  in  the  ma- 
sonic ladder,  which  leads  from  earth 
to  heaven,  becomes  a  vice,  masomy 
will  be  hailed  by  virtue,  as  one  of 
her  brightest  stars. 

Such,  my  brethren,  being  the  di- 
vine purity  of  the  principles  of  ma- 
sonry, let  us  endeavour  to  emulate 
the  divine  perfections  of  Him,  whom 
we  profess  to  adore ;  and,  in  the  fig- 
urative language  of  this  Holy  Book, 
which  we  declare  to  be  the  first  great 
light  in  ma5onr>",let  us  seek  to  make 
our  robes  white  in  the  blood  of  the 
Latnb.  Then  indeed  will  we  grace 
the  profession  we  make.  Then  in- 
deed will  we  hove  the  pass  word^ 
which  will  gam  us  admittance  into 
the  grand  celestial  Lodge  above. 


To  THE  £i>rro&  of  ths  Masonic  Rboistbr. 

The  foUowmg  Song  is  transmitted,  and  if  you  think  it  wortliy  a  place 
ui  your  Register,  you  will  please  to  insert  it.  B  Si 

THE  GENIUS' OF  MASONRV. 

WHEN  Sol,  with  grave  motion,  had  plung'd4n  the  oceans 

And  twilight  hung  over  the  borders  of  day, 
A  splendid  reflection,  with  downward  direction, 
3tole  softly  the  senses  of  mortals  away : 
My  thoughts  were  suspended,  as  darkness  descended) 

With  night's  ample  canopy  widely  unfurl'd«$ 
The  solar  succession  of  mist  m  progressioh, 
Bidtwilight^in'silenocrelifeftoBithew^rnh        ^         .    • 

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54  MAioilU* 

While  tfaus  I  WIS  tnaacti^  %  pecwMi  advanced, 

All  qNTightly  and  active  with  Ganqportiiig  fflee ; 
With  rapture  I  trenbled,  I  thought  he  ratembled 
Some  angelic  foraMnore  than  man  could  eVr  be. 
With  ardourl  viewed  him,  in  fmcy  punned  him^ 

His  mien  was  mi^eatic,  and  noble  faii  mind ; 
Hit  actions  diMieetly,  ftdfilbng  completdyy 
The  precepts  of  nature  by  wisdom  enjoin'd. 

His  heart  was  in  mo<ien  wkh  seal  and  devotion, 

His  voice  was  an  organ  of  music  and  mirth; 
Profuse  as  a  fountain  VM,  0ow'd  from  a  mountain, 
His  charities  gladden'd  the  children  of  earth ; 

In  fimcy  I  caught  him,  and  home  with  me  brought  Uu, 

And  souffht  with  my  heartstrings  to  bind  him  with  care; 
Nor  would  I  unloose  him,  for  in  his  blest  bosom, 
I  saw  the  best  image  that  human  can  wear. 

I  thought  he  said  to  me,  **  In  vain  you  pursue  me. 

For  on  the  strong  pinions  of  science  t  soar. 
But  if  you  will  hasten,  and  be  a  freemason, 
I'll  speak  of  the  order  a  moment  or  more : 
No  other  lotion  since  earth's  first  creation. 

Has  e'er  kepta  secret  in  union  so  long; 
No  other  communion  so  firm  as  this  union. 
No  friendship  with  man  that's  so  lasting  and  stnmg. 

^  For  kings  may  make  quarrels  for  conquest  and  laurels, 
And  churches,  though  Christian,  may  wrangle  and  jar, 
There's  no  such  invasions  allow'd  among  masons. 
Nor  ruptures  nor  rumours  of  internal  war : 
Through  time's  ancient  measure,  with  fi:eedom  and  pkaturc^ 

The  sons  of  fair  science  have  mov'd  hand  in  hand; 
Through  every  commotion,  by  land  or  by  ocean, 
In  triumph  have  pass'd  die  harmonious  band. 

(Md  time  may  kee|p  beating,  his  numbers  completing, « 

And  wear  out  his  wings  in  the  region  of  years ; 
But  wisdom  and  beauty  shall  teach  us  our  duty, 
Untfl  the  Grand  Master  m  glory  appears. 
The  world  may  keep  gazing,  their  senses  amazing, 
And  wreck  uieir  inventions  to  find  out  our  plan ; 
With  candour  we  meet  them,  and  prove  as  we  greet  them. 
That  masons  respect  every  virtuous  man. 

Let  envy  degrade  us,  and  scrSbUers  invade  us, 

And  all  m  black  regions  of  malice  combine ; 
Though  demons  and  fiiries  turn  judses  and  juries. 
With  innocent  lustre  the  order  win  shine. 
Like  rocks  in  the  ocean,  we  fear  not  the  motion 
Of  waves  which  asssail  us  in  foamins;  career; 
With  truth  and  discretion,  we  still  mue  progression, 
And  leave  all  the  env}':  of  fools  in  the  rear. 

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White  each  in  hb  iUition,  inch  great  adsliiMiciii,  * 

Beholds  the  felr  tmiple  of  wisdom  arise. 
Let  each  ftithfiil  brodier  support  one  anc^her^ 
Till  the  lodge  universal  shall  meet  in  the  skies: 
With  orient  grandeur  and  dazzfing  splendour, 

The  wide  ar^  of  heaven  reflect'mg  the  hhuse^ 
Where  sisters  and  brothen  and  railUons  of  others, 
Shall  shine  in  the  coims  of  the  Ancient  ^f  Days. 

The  scene  is  befon  us,  then  jofai  in  the  chiMrus, 
Let  worlds  with  all  beings  unite  in  the  song ; 
To  God  the  Creator  and  Audior  of  nature, 
And  ages  eternal  the  anthem  prolong : 

Thus  armies  terrestrial^  and  squadrons  cd^stial. 
Shall  echo  through  heaven  the  music  serene ; 
Vet  will  their  high  story  fall  short  of  his  g^ory, 
And  silent  expression  must  muse  on  t^  ihetat^^^ 

•      ♦#♦»**••♦*,* 

H  e  closed  this  oration,  With  great  admiration, 

While  extasy  kindled  his  countenance  high ; 
With  due  preparation,  he  soar'd  from  his  station, 
And  buoyant  from  eardi  he  ascended  the  ^ky : 
In  awe  I  beheld  him,  which  clearly  reveal'd  him^ 

The  ffenius  of  masonry  full  in  my  sight ; 
Through  ether  progressing,  receiving  earth's  blessing, 
Trium{rfiant  he  enter'd  the  portals  of  light. 


ON  FREEMASONRY, 

By  a  Mason's  Wife. 

With  what  malicious  joy,  e'er  I  knew  better, 
Have  I  been  wont  Freeikiasons  to  bespatter; 
How  greedily  have  I  behev'd  each  lie 
Contnv'd  against  that  fam'd  society ; 
With  many  more  coiAplain'd — ^'twas  very  hard, 
Women  i^ouM  from  meir  secrets  be'deWr'd, 
When  kings  and  statesmen  to  our  sex  reveal 
Important  secrets  which  they  should  conceal^ 
That  beauteous  ladies  by  their  sparks  adorM 
Never  could  wheedle  out  the  mason's  word  ;         , 
And  oft  their  favours  have  bestow'd  in  vain, 
Nor  could  one  secret  for  another  gain : 
I  thought,  unable  to  explain  the  matter. 
Each  mason  sure,  a  woman  hater: 
With  sudden  fear  and  dismal  horror  struck, 
I  heard  my  spouse  was  to  subscribe  the  book- 
By  all  our  loves  I  begg'd  he  would  forbear ; 
tJpon  my  knees  I  wept,  and  tore  my  hair } 
But  when  I  found  him  fix'd,  how  I  behav'd, 
I  thought  him  lost,  and  like  a  fury  ra v'd ;  ^         . 

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sft 


S6  UABOMK. 

Believed  he  would  for  evier  be  undone, 
By  some  strange  operation  undergone, 
When  he  came  back,  I  found  a  change  'tis  true, 
But  such  a  change  as  did  his  youth  renew : 
With  rosy  cheeks  and  smiling  grace  he  came, 
And  spanding  eyes  that  spoke  a  bridegroom's  flamlei 
Ye  married  ladies,  'tis  a  happy  life, 
Believe  me,  that  of  a  freemason's  wtfe, 
Though  they  conceal  the  secrets  of  their  friends, 
In  love  and  truth  they  make  us  full  amends. 


GRAND  CHAPTER  OF 
GEORGU. 

Lift  of  its   oflicers,  together  with 
tfiQse  of  its  subordinate  chapters. 

OftAND  CBAPTBK. 

^M.E.  Wmiam  Schl^r,  grand  high 

priest 
— —  David  Clarke,  deputy  grand 

high  priest. 
■    Willlsun  Bivins,  grand  king. 
■     ■   GreorgeWolcott,  grand  scrme. 
— — ^  Bickett  D.  Thompson,  grand 

treasurer. 
— -^  Daniel  Hook,  grand  secretary. 
— —  Aia  Holt,  grand  marshal. 

ScmosoiNATB  Chapters. 

Unicm  Royal  Arch  Chapter j  No.  1, 

r  LouUviOe. 

M.  £.  Birkett  D.  Thonqpton,  high 
(Nriest. 

—  Daniel  Hook,  king. 
— ^  Asa  Holt,  sofibe. 

Augusta  Cheq^y  No,  i,  Augusta. 
M.  £.  David  Clark,  high  priest. 

—  John  Cresswell,  king. 
Green  B.  Marshall,  scribe. 

Georgia  Chapter ^  No.  3,  Savannah, 

M.E.  ■  Stephens, high  priest. 
^ Pelot,  long. 

—  Calvin  Baker,  scribe* 

Temple  Chapter ^  No.  4,  MiUedge" 
viUfi. 
.  M.  E.  William  Bivins,  high  priest. 
**s—  Samuel  Rockwell^  king« 


M.  E.  Henry  Darnell,  scribs. 
FrankUn  Chapter y  No.  5,  JSfwrfw. 
M.E.  Burton  B.  Hill,  higb  priest 

—  George  Wolcott,  king. 

—  Augustas  Haywood,  scribe. 

Mechanics^  Chapter ^  No.  6, 
Lexington. 
M. E.Joseph  G.   Galbraith,  high 

priest. 
Thomas  W.  Golding,  king. 

Thomas  Miller,  scribe. 

WatXington  Chapter ^  No.  7, 
Marion. 
M.  E.  Hope  H,  Slatter,  high  fpai 

—  Moses  Fort,  king. 
— •  Samuel  Gainer,  scribe. 

PYTHAGORAS  CHAPTER, 
No.  ir,  Hartford,  Connccticttt. 

Oficerefor  the  present  ytUt, 
M.E.  Talcott  Wolcott,  higbpntft. 
R.  E.  Jeremy  Hoadley,  king* 

E.  Joseph  G.  Norton,  scribe. 

Comp.  GeMge  Pumam,  cajrtso  of 

the  host. 
Henry  Kilboum,  principal  »• 

joumer.  ^ 
Joseph  Church,  royal  m 

captain*  , 
Mar^Uns     Lwidcn,    tbW 

grandmaster.  .  , 

ChartesOhnsted,sccondg»Dfl 

naasten 
Samuel   G.   Goodricii,  i^ 
grand  masteiw 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIc 


1- 


Comp.  John  J.  White,  secretary. 

Frederick  Oakes,  treasurer. 

Daniel  Winship,  senior  stew- 
ard. 

—  Asahel  Saunders,  junior  stew- 

ard. 
Augustus  Andreas,  centinel. 

Feom  the  Masonic  Miscellany. 

A  BRIEF  CHARGE, 
Delivered   by  the  Deputy  Grand 
High  Priest,  at  the  organization 
of  a  new  Royal  Arch  Chapter,  at 
Winchester,  Kentucky. 

Permit  me,  my  brethren  and  com- 
panions, to  congratulate  you  on  the 
establishment  among  you,  of  a  body 
of  masons,  devoted  to  the  cultiva- 
tion of  the  more  advanced  degrees ; 
and  suffer  me  to  indulge  the  hope, 
that  this  occurrence  may  be  the 
harbinger  of  the  increased  prosperi- 
ty of  the  order,  and  may  lead  to  a 
more  assiduous  devotion  to  the  in- 
terests of  f^masonry  in  general. 
There  is  no  rivalship  or  competition 
between  the  different  orders  of  ma- 
sonry. They  are  all  parts  of  one 
admirable  system,  and  all  tend  to 
the  promotion  of  the  tame  common 
object,  the  advancement  of  the  vir- 
tue and  happiness  of  man.  The 
promotion  to  higher  degrees,  does 
not  in  the  least  £minish  our  obliga- 
tioiu,  or  weaken  our  ties  to  those 
which  have  preceded  them.  They 
only  enlai^  the  sphere  of  our  ope- 
ration^;  increase  the  area  of  our 
knowledge,  and  impose  upon  us 
new,  and  more  extensive  responsi- 
bility. Let,  then,  my  companions, 
the  institution  of  a  Royal  Arch 
Chapter,  which  is  entrusted  to  your 
special  care  and  direction,  impress 
upon  your  minds  a  deep  and  lasting 
sense  of  your  obligation,  to  be  more 
cautious  than  ever  in  your  deport- 
ment as  men  and  masons.  Re- 
member, I  entreat  yoii,  that  the 
character  of  the  order  is,  in  a  g^e^X 


MASONIC.  57 

measure/entrusted  to  your  keeping  ; 
and  do  not  lose  sight  of  the  admira- 
ble lessons  which  have,  from  time  to 
time,  been  solemnly,  and  most  im- 
pressively tauffht  you,  as  you  have 
passed  through  the  several  veils  of 
the  sanctuary.  Masonry  never  was 
intended  to  be  a  solemn  mockery. 
Its  essence  does  not  consist  in  a  dis- 
play of  jewels  and  gewgaws,  nor 
even  in  the  performance  of  sacred 
rites  and  mystic  ceremonies.  Xo  ! 
my  companions.  It  is  intended  to 
make  men  wiser,  and  better.  It 
opens  to  our  view,  and  displays  to 
the  admiration  of  every  ingenuous 
mind,  the  vast  store  house  of  human 
knowledge.  It  points  us  to  our 
high,  tdumate  destination:  it  teach* 
es  us  to  smooth  the  rough  and  rug- 
ged road,  over  which  we  are  too  of- 
ten destined  to  travel  in  the  pilgrim- 
age of  life;  and  urges  us  to  the  cul- 
tivation of  those  virtues,  which  are 
calculated  to  render  us  more  happy 
in  this  world,  and  to  gain  us  admis- 
sion within  the  white  veil  of  the 
tabernacle  on  high. 

DEDICATION. 

On  the  17th  of  January  last,  the 
commodious  apartments,  which  had 
been  prepared  for  die  reception  and 
accommodation  of  the  Lexington 
Royal  Arch  Chapter,  No.  1 ,  situated 
on  the  north-west  side  of  the  public 
square,  in  Lexington,  Kentucky, 
were  solemnly  dedicated  to  masonio 
purposes,  agreeably  to  ancient  form 
and  usage.  The  6rand  Chapter  of 
Kentucky  was  specially  convened 
for  the  purpose,  by  the  M.  £.  depu- 
ty grand  high  priest,  who  was  pres- 
ent, and  conducted  the  ceremonies; 
after  the  ccmclusion  of  which,  he 
delivered  a  brief  address,  congratu- 
lating the  chapter  on  the  favourable 
change  which  had  been  made  in  its 
place  of  meeting.  Every  thing  was 
done  with  solemnity,  and  in  the  most 
perfect  order.  The  apartments  are 
I  singularly  adapted  to  the  purposes 


r.s 


JfASOXIC 


for  which  they  wrc  ro  be  used-  The 
pnncipaJ  room  is  sufficiendj  large, 
and  bneatiy  fitted  op,  and  the  outer 
courts  are  comrenienthr  situated- 
Indeed  we  have  the  authoritj  of  in- 
teUigent  masons,  who  have  rishcd 
chapters  m  ahnost  e^ery  pait  of  tlK 
union,  for  saying,  that  scarcely  any 
apartments  can  be  found,  more  suit- 
able to  the  meetings  and  ceremonies 
of  Royal  Arch  Masons,  than  those 
here  alluded  to.  The  rooms  are 
occupied  in  conjunction  with  Webb 
Encampment  of  Kni^ts  Templars. 
ibid. 


CONSECRATION. 

The  new  chapter  of  Royal  Arch 
Masons,  at  Winchester,  Kentucky, 
was  s<jlemnly  constituted  and  conse- 
crated by  the  deputy  grand  high 
priest,  on  the  23d  of  January  last. 
Afler  the  appropriate  preparatory 
ceremonies,  the  chapter,  in  compa- 
ny with  the  Winchester  Lodge  of 
master  masons,  repaired  in  proces- 
fioQ  to  the  court  house,  where,  afler 
religious  exercises,  and  a  discourse 
by  the  Rev.  companion  Bard,  the 
several  officers  were  invested  with 
their  respective  badges,  the  chapter 
was  duly  organized,  constituted,  and 
consecrated,  and  a  short  charge  de- 
livered by  the  deputy  grand  high 
priest.  This  chapter,  we  are  hap- 
py to  add,  is  composed  of  intelligent 
and  industrious  members,  who  have 
engaged  in  the  enterprise  with  un- 
common zeal,  and  who  work  in  the 
several  degrees  with  great  skill  and 
iX)rrectness.^./6iVf. 


8  John  Cotton,  high  priest 
J  allien  McAhoy,  king.* 
Biliy  Todd,  scribe. 
W^ton  Thomas,  treasurer. 
Ana&amander  Wamer,  secrecaiy. 
Weston  Thomas,  capUiin  of  the  host 
James  Dunn,  principal  fojoumcr. 
Wm.  Pitt  Putnam,  royai  arcfa  caf 

tain. 
Andrew  Cumuogfaam,  third  graoi 

master. 
Levi  Barber,  second  graxid  master. 
Samuel  Beach,  first  grand  master. 
Mattliew  Cashel,  steward  aodtyier. 
Regular  communicatioDs  are  on 
Wednesdays,  on  or  pr««liiig  che 
full  of  the  moon,  in  Janoary)  March, 
iMay,  July,  September,  andNewo- 
ber,  of  each  year. — ibid. 


At  a  meeting  of  American  Union 
Chapter,  No.  1,  held  at  American 
Union  Hall,  Marietta,  Ohio,  on  the 
7t\i  of  November,  1821,  the  follow- 
ing officers  were  elected  for  the  en- 
suing year,  and  on  Tuesday  evening, 
thel3ih,  they  were  severally  duly 
installed  in  then*  respective  ^f^ces, 
viz: 


At  a  meeting  of  American  Union 
Lodge,    No.  1,  heW  at  American 
Union  Hall,  Marietta,  Ohio,  oflib« 
4th  of  December  last,  the  foUowfflg 
officers  were  elected  for  the  present 
year;  and  on  Su  John's  day,  Ac 
H  27th,  they  were  duly  installed  m 
their  respective  offices,  viz : 
John  Cotton,  master. 
Silas  Cook,  senior  warden. 
Wm.  A.  Whittlesey,  junior  warden. 
Anaxamander  Warner,  treasure. 
James  M.  Booth,  secretary. 
James  Duim,  senior  deacon. 
Charles  Bosworth,  junior  deacon. 
Isaac  Rice,  steward  and  tylet. 

Regular  communication  is  ^ 
Tuesday,  on  or  preceding  thefim 
of  the  moon.— f6tdL 

GRAND  LODGE  OF  SOUTH 
CAROLINA. 

At  a  quarterly  comraunicarioo  ot 
the  Grand  Lodge  of  Ancient  Fre^ 
masons  of  South  CaroliuaJWd  o^ 
Charleston,  on  the  14th  oiVetxa^ 

•  •  This  companion  is  also  an  f^ 
of  the  Baptist  Church  in  Marietta, 
and  Farkershurgh^  l^rginta^  flw 
resits  at  the  latter  pface. 

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MASONIC 


ft9 


1 


bcr  laftjthe  foil  owing  brethren  were 
duly  elected  officers  of  said  grand 
lodge,  for  the  ensuing  year  : 
John  S.  Cogdell,  g.  m. 
Isaac  M.  Wilson,  d.  g.  m. 
Henry  H.  Bacot,  s.  g.  w. 
William  Waller,  j.  g.  w. 
Rev.  Frederick  Dalcho,  g>  c. 
Charles  S.  Tucker,  o.  t. 
Edward  Hughes,  lu  o.  s^ 
Richard  W.  Cogdell^  c.  o.  s. 

APPOINTMENTS. 

Peter Javain,  ^senior grand 
S.  Seyle,  v     wardens. 

Augustus  Follin,  >  junior  grand 
James  C.  Norris,  ^     wardens. 
Charles  Cleaper,  grand  marshal. 
Benjamin  Phillips, grand  pursuivant. 
John  M.  Fraser,        1 
I.  M.  Johnson,  m.  d.  I  grand  stew- 
John  Dawson,  jun.    (      ards. 
Allan  M'Donald,      3 
Robert  Shaiid,  grand  tyler. 

Kbw-York  Masonic  Benevolent 
Society,  No.  1. 

On  the  14th  of  February  last,  the 
constitution  of  a  society  under  the 
above  title,  was  regulairly  r.'opted 
at  St  John's  Hall,  in  the  city  of 
New-York.  The  society  is  formed 
for  the  mutual  benefit  of  its  mem- 
bers, their  widows,  and  orphans. 
Though  this  socie^  is  independent 
of  any  grand  lodge  in  the  world,  it 
in  no  respect  intcFferes  with  the 
rules  and  regulations  of  any  duly 
constituted  lodge;  nor  does  it  devi- 
ate from  the  ancient  landmarks  of 
the  order;  and  no  person  can  become 
a  mcmlier  who  has  npt  been  raised 
to  the  sublime  degree  qfa  Mastbr 
Mason  ;  Yfho  at  the  time  of  admis- 
sion is  of  a  healthy  constitution,  not 
under  the  age  of  twenty-one,  nor 
exceeding  the  age  of  fifty  years.  A 
candidate*  must  be  proposed  at  least 
one  month  previoqs  to  his  sidmis- 
sion,  and  naust  receive  the  voice  of 
three  fourths  of  the  members  pres- 
et at  tho  time  of  ballotuig,  to  be 


accepted.  The  adjoining  fee  is 
five  doDars,  and  tlie  monthly  dues 
twenty-five  cents ;  and  no  person 
can  receive  any  pecuniary  benefit 
from  the  society,  till  he  has  been  a 
member,  and  paid  his  regular  dues 
one  year;  after  which,  iu  case  of 
close  confinement  by  sickness,  he  is 
to  receive  from  the  funds  of  the  so- 
ciety four  dollars  per  week,  during 
the  time  of  such  confinement.  Any 
member  bemg  ill,  but  not  confined 
to  hb  bed,  is  to  receive  two  dollars  a 
week,  until  he  is  able  to  attend  to 
business;  none,  however,  are  enti- 
tled to  Uie  benefits  of  this  society, 
who  by  improper  conduct  bring  dis- 
ease upon  themselves;  and  in  all 
cases,  arrears  of  dues  are  to  be  de- 
ducted from  the  first  benefit,  but 
the  membef  is  to  be  exempt  from 
dues  during  his  illness.  Forty-five 
dollars,  after  the  admission  fee, 
makes  a  member  for  life,  or  during 
the  existence  of  the  society,  which 
cannot  be  dissolved  while  thirteen 
of  its  members  shall  be  opposed  to 
the  measure,  let  ever  so  great  a  ma- 
jority be  in  its  favour  ;  nor  can  any 
amendment  to  the  constitution  be 
made,  unless  approved  by  two  thirds 
of  the  members  present.  On  the 
death  of  a  free  member,  twenty-five 
dollars  are  to  be  puid  out  of  the 
funds  for  his  funeral  expenses ;  and 
on  the  death  of  a  member's  wife,  he 
is  to  receive  the  sum  of  twenty  dol- 
lars ;  and  no  money  drawn  from  the 
funds,  either  in  case  of  sickness  or 
death,  is  to  be  '^  considered  as  a 
gift  of  benevolence,  but  as  a  matter 
of  right.^'  After  the  incidental  ex- 
pences  of  the  society  are  paid,  the 
balances,  from  time  to  time,  arc  to 
be  deposited  in  the  New- York  Sa- 
vings Bank^  from  whence  they  are 
not  to  be  drawn  but  by  the  voice  of 
a  majority  of  the  members  present. 
The  stock  of  the  society  is  at  no 
time  to  be  reduced  to  a  less  sum  than 
one  himchred  dollars,  and  in  cosepL' 
necessity,  a  majority  of  the  mem- 
bers, have  arigiit  by  vote,  to  in- 
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60 


MISCltLAlflOIM. 


create  the  monthly  dues  to  fifty 
cents^  till  they  think  expedient  to 
reduce  them  in  the  same  way.  And 
when  the  funds  shall  amount  to  a 
thousand  dollars  above  the  current 
expences,  the  interest  ma^  be  dis- 
posed of  by  a  special  committee,  for 
the  reliel  of  the  widows  and  orphans 
of  deceased  members. 

The  officers  of  this  society  are  xo 
be  annually  elected,  and  to  consist 
t>f  a  president,  two  vice  presidents,  n 
secretary,  a  treasurer,  and  a  board 
of  tnutees,  consisdng  of  three  per- 
sons. 

The  following  are  the  officers  for 
the  present  year : 

W.  P.  M.  Philip  Becanon,  of 
German  Union  Lodge,  No.  322, 
president. 

W.P.M.  S.  S.  S.  Hoyt,  of  St. 
John's  Lodge,  No.  1,  and  Brother 
John  Coats,  of  St  Andrews  Lodge, 
No.  7y  vice  presidents. 

W.  P.  M.  F.  L.  V.  Vulteq,  of  Ger- 
man Union  Lodge,  treasurer. 

W.  P.  M.  J.  M.  Lester,  of  Mount 
Moriah  Lodge,  No.  132,  secretary. 

Brothers  Gilbert  Lewis,  treasurer 
of  Trinity  Lodge,  No.  39,  James 
Thorboum,  of  Benevolent  Lodge, 
No.  143,and  Thomas  Clark,  W.  M. 
of  Trinity  Lodge,  No.  39,  board  of  J 
trustees. 

Regular  meetmgs,  at  St  John's 
Hall,  on  the  second  Thursday  of 
every  month. 


MISCELLANEOUS* 

THE  FLOATING  BEACON. 

The  following  interesting  narra- 
tive^ from  Blackwood^s  Magazine 
for  October  last,  will  be  read  witii 
peculiar  interest. 

One  dark  and  stormy  night,  we 
were  on  a  voyage  from  Bergen  to 
ChristiansancI,  in  a  small  sloop. — 
Our  captain  suspected  that  he  had 
approached  too  near  the  Norwegian 


coast,  though  he  coUM  not  diaoem 
any  land,  and  the  wind  blew  wi^ 
such  violence,  that  we  were  in  mo- 
mentary dread  of  being  driven  upon 
a  lee-shore.  We  had  endeavoured, 
for  more  thaaan  hour,  to  keep  our 
vessel  away ;  but  our  efforts  proved 
unavailing,  and  we  soon  found  tlmt 
we  could  scarcely  hold  our  own.  A 
clouded  tky,  a  hazy  atmosphere, 
and  irregular  showers  of  sleety  rain, 
combing  to  deepen  the  obscurity 
oftheniffht,  and  nothing  whatever 
wasvisibTe,  except  the  ^Mirkling  of 
the  distant  waves,  when  their  tops 
happened  to  break  into  a  wreath  of 
foam.  The  sea  ran  very  high,  and 
sometimes  broke  over  Uiedeek  so 
furiously,  that  the  men  were  obliged 
to  hold  by  the  rigging,  lest  tb^ 
should  be  carried  away.  Our  cap- 
tain was  a  person  of  timid  and  irres- 
olute character,  and  the  dangos 
that  envuroned  us  made  him  gradu- 
ally lose  confidence  in  himseOl  He 
omn  gave  orders  and  countermand* 
ed  them  in  the  same  moment,  all 
the  while  taking  sniall  quantities  of 
ardent  spirits  at  intervals.  Fear 
and  intoxication  soon  stupified  him 
completely,  and  the  crew  ceased  to 
consult  him,  or  to  pay  any  respect 
to  his  authority,  in  so  far  as  regard- 
ed the  management  of  the  vesa^ 

About  midnight,  our  main^^ail 
was  split,  and  shortly  aAer  yre  found 
that  the  sloop  had  sprung  a  leaL 
We  had  shipped  a  good  deal  of 
wftter  through  the  hatches,  and  the 
quantity  that  now  entered  from  be- 
low was  so  great,  that  we  thought 
we  should  go  down  ev^y  moment 
Our  only  chance  of  escs^  lay  in 
our  boat,  which  was  immediatel} 
lowered.  Afler  we  had  all  got  on 
board  of  her,  except  the  captain, 
who  stood  leaning  against  the  mast, 
we  called  to  him,  requesting  that  he 
would  follow  us  with<Hit  delay. — 
<<  How  dareyoijt  quit  the  sloop  with- 
out my  permission?"  cried  he, stag- 
gering forwards.  ^  This  is  not  Et 
weather  to  go  a  fishing.     Comt 

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mSCXLLANSOUS. 


(St 


Vack-«-back  with  you  all  !'^  "  No, 
no/'  returned  one  of  the  crew, "  we 
donH  want  to  he  sent  to  tUe  bottom 
for  your  obstinacy.  Bear  a  hand 
there,  or  we'll  leave  you  behind." 
^^  Captain  you're  drunk,"  said  anoth- 
er; **  you  can't  take  care  of  your- 
self. You  must  obey  tt#  now."  <<  Si- 
lence! mutinous  villain^"  answered 
the  captahi.  ^^  What  are  you  all 
afraid  of?  This  is  a  fine  breeze—; 
Up  mainsail,  and  steer  her  right  in 
the  wind's  eye." 

The  sea  knocked  the  boat  so  vio- 
lently and    constantly  against  the 
side  of  the  sloop,  that  we  fear^  the 
Jbrmer  would  be  injured,  or  upset. 
If  we  did  not  immediately  row  away; 
i^ut  anxious  as  we  were  to  preserve 
our  liveS|  we  could  not  reconcile 
ourselves  to  the  idea  of  abandoning 
the  captain,  who  grew  more  obsti- 
nate the  more  we  attempted  to  per- 
suade him  to  accompany  us.    At 
length  one  of  the  crew  leaped  on 
board  the  sloop,  anid  having  seized 
hold  of  him,  tried  to  drag  him  along 
by  force;  buthe  struggled  resolute- 
-ly,  and  soon  freed  himself  from  the 
grasp  of  the  seaman,  who  imn^edi- 
ately  resumed  his  place  among  u^, 
and  urged  that  we  should  not  any 
longer  risk  our  lives  for  the  sake  of 
a  dnmkard,  and  a  madman.    Most 
of  the  party  declared  they  were  of 
the  same  opinion,  and  be^m  to  push 
off  the  boat ;  but  I  entreated  them 
to  make  one  efibrt  more  to  induce 
their  infatuated  coran^ander  to  ac- 
company us.    At  that  moment  he 
came  up  Cronn  the  cabin,  to  which 
he  had  descended  a  little  time  be- 
fore, and  we  immediately  perceived 
that  he  was  more  under  the  influence 
of  ardent  spirits  than  ever.     He 
abused  us  all  in  the  grossest  terms, 
and  threatened  his  crew  with  seyere 
punbhment,  if  they  did  not  come  on 
board,   and  return  to  their  duty« 
His  manner  was  so  violent,  that  no 
one  seemed  willing  to  attempt  to 
constrain  him  to  come  on  boara  the 
boat ;  and  after  vainly  representing 


the  absurdity  ofhis  conduct,  and  the 
danger  of  his  situation,  we  bid  him 
fareweU,  and  rowed  away. 

The  sea  ran  so  high,  and  had  such 
a  terrific  appearance,  that  I  ahnost 
wished  myself  in  the  sloop  again. 
The  crew  plied  the  oars  in  silence, 
andi^e  h^rd  nothing  but  the  hiss> 
ing  of  the  enormous  billows  as  they 
gently  rose  up,  and  slowly  subsided 
again,  without  breaking.  At  inter- 
vals, our  boat  was  elevated  fieur  above 
the  surface  of  the  ocean,  and  re- 
mained, for  a  few  moments,  trenn 
bling  upon  the  pinnacle  of  a  surge, 
from  which  it  would  quietly  descend 
into  a  gulph,  so  deep  and  awful,  that 
we  often  thought  the  dense  black 
mass  of  waters  which  formed  its 
sides,  wore  on  the  point  of  over-arch- 
infl;  us.  and  bursting  upon  our  heads. 
We  glided  with  regular  undulations 
from  one  billow  to  another ;  but 
every  time  we  sunk  into  the  trough 
of  the  tsea,  my  heart  died  within 
me,  for  I  feh  as  if  we  were  going 
lower  down  than  we  had  ever  done 
before,  and  dung  instinctively  to  die 
board  on  which  1  sat. 

Notwithstanding  my  terrors,  I 
frequently  looked  towards  the  sloop. 
The  fragments  of  her  mainsail, 
which  remained  attached  to  the 
yard,  and  fluttered  in  the  wind,  ena- 
bled us  to  dbcern  e^^actly  where  she 
lay,  and  showed,  by  their  motion, 
that  she  pitched  about  in  a  terrible 
manner.  We  occasionally  heard 
the  voice  of  her  unfortunate  com- 
mander, call,  ng  to  us  in  tones  of 
firantic  derision,  and  by  turns  vocif- 
erating cun^  and  blat>phemous 
oaths,  and  singing  sea-songs  with  a 
wild  and  frightful  energy.  I  some- 
times almost  wished  that  the  crew 
would  make  another  effort  to  save 
him,  but,  the  next  moment,  the 
principVe  of  self-preservation  repres- 
sed all  feelings  of  humanity,  and  I 
endeavoured,  by  closing  my  ears,  to  ; 
banish  the  idea  of  his  sufferuigs 

I  from  my  mind. 
After  a  little  tirne^  the  shivering 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


62 


inscELLAincout. 


canvass  disappeared,  and  we  heard 
a  tumultuous  roaring  and  bursting 
of  billows,  and  saw  an  unusual  spark- 
ling of  the  sea  about  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  from  us.  One  of  the  sailors 
cried  out  that  the  sloop  was  now  on 
her  beam  ends,  and  that  the  noise, 
to  which  we  listened,  was  that  of  tlie 
wares  breaki;ig  over  her.  We 
could  sometimes  perceive  a  large 
black  mass,  heaving  itself  up  irregu- 
larly among  the  flashing  surges, 
and  then  disappearing  for  a  few  mo- 
ments, and  knew  but  too  well  that 
it  was  the  hull  of  the  vessel.  At  in- 
tervals a  shrill  and  agonized  voice 
uttered  some  exclamations,  but  we 
could  not  distinguish  what  they 
were^  and  tlien  a  long  dra¥m  shriek 
came  across  the  ocean,  whkh  sud- 
denly grew  more  furiously  agitated 
near  the  spot  where  the  sloop  lay, 
and,  in  a  few  moments,  she  sunk 
down,  and  a  black  wave  formed  it- 
self out  of  the  waters  that  had  en- 
gulphed  her,  and  swelled  gloomily 
into  a  magnitude  greater  than  tliat 
of  the  surrounding  billows. 

The  seamen  dropped  their  oars, 
as  if  by  one  impulse,  and  looked  ex- 
pressively at  each  other,  without 
speaking  a  word.  Awful  forebo- 
dings of  a  fate  similar  to  that  of  the 
captain,  appeared  to  chill  every 
heart,  and  to  repress  the  energy  that 
iiad  hitherto  excited  us  to  make  un- 
remitting exertions  for  our  common 
safety.  While  we  were  in  this  state 
of  hopeless  inaction,  the  man  at  the 
helm  called  out  tliat  he  saw  a  hght 
a-head.  We  all  strained  our  eyes 
to  discern  it,  but,  at  the  moment,  the 
boat  was  sinking  down  between  two 
immense  waves,  one  of  which  closed 
the  prospect,  and  we  remained  in 
brcatliless  anxiety  till  a  rising  surge 
elevated  us  above  the  level  of  the 
surrounding  ocean.  A  light  like  a 
dazzling  star  then  suddenly  flashed 
upon  our  view,  and  joyful  exclama- 
tions burst  from  every  mouth. — 
"That,'*  cried  one  of  the  crew, 
<^  must  be  the  floating  beacon,  which 


our  captaui  was  looking  out  for  this 
afternoon.  If  we  can  but  gain  it, 
we'll  be  safe  enough  yet.**  This 
intelligence  cheered  us  all,  and  the 
men  began  to  ply  the  oars  with  re- 
doubled vigour,  while  I  enaployed 
myself  in  bailing  out  the  water  that 
sometimes  rushed  over  the  gunnel 
of  the  boat  when  a  sea  happened  to 
strike  her. 

An  hour's  hard  rowing  brought 
us  so  near  the  light  house,  that  we 
almost  ceased  to  apprehend  any  fur- 
ther danger ;  but  it  was  stiddenly 
obscured  from  our  view,  and^  9t  tiie 
same  time,  a  confused  roaring  and 
dashing  commenced  at  a  Uttk  dis- 
tance, and  rapidly  increased  in  loud- 
ness. We  soon  perceived  a  tre- 
mendous billow  rolling  towards  us. 
Its  top,  part  of  which  had  already 
broke,  overhung  the  base»  as  if  un- 
willing to  burst*  until  we  were  within 
the  reach  of  its  violence.  The  man 
who  steered  the  boat,  brought  her 
head  to  the  sea,  but  all  to  no  pur- 
pose, for  the  water  nished  furiously 
over  us,  and  we  were  completely 
immersed.  I  felt  the  boat  swept 
from  under  me,  and  was  left  strug- 
gling and  groping  about  in  hopeless 
desperation,  for  something  to  catch 
hold  of.  When  nearly  exhausted, 
I  received  a  severe  blow  on  the  side, 
from  a  small  cask  of  water,  which 
the  sea  had  forced  against  me.  I 
immediately  twined  my  arms  round 
it,  and,  after  recovering  myself  a 
little,  began  to  look  for  the  boat, 
and  to  call  to  my  companions;  but 
I  could  not  discover  any  vestige  of 
them,  or  of  tlieir  vesseL  Howev^, 
I  still  had  a  faint  hope  that  they 
were  in  existence,  and  that  the  in- 
tervention of  the  billows  concealed 
them  from  my  view.  I  continued 
to  shout  as  loud  as  possible,  for  the 
sound  of  ray  own  voice  in  some 
measure  relieved  me  fiwn  the  feel- 
ing of  awful  and  heart-chilhng  lone- 
liness which  my  situation  inspired  j 
but  not  even  an  echo  responded  to 
my  cries,  and,  convinced  tliat  my 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


oomrades  had  all  perished,  I  ceased 
looking  for  them,  and  pushed  to- 
wards the  beacon  in  the  best  man- 
ner I  could.  A  long  series  of  fa- 
tiguing exertions  brought  me  close 
to  the  side  of  the  vessel  which  con- 
tained it,  and  I  called  out  loudly,  m 
hopes  tliat  those  on  board  might 
hear  me,  and  come  to  my  assistance, 
but  no  one  appearing,  I  waited  pa- 
tiently till  a  wave  raised  me  on  a  lev- 
el with  the  chains,  to  which  I  clung, 
and  succeeded  in  getting  on  board. 
As  I  did  not  see  any  person  on 
deck,  I  went  forward  to  the  sky- 
light, and  looked  down.  Two  men 
were  seated  below  at  a  table,  and  a 
lamp,  which  was  suspended  above 
tliem,  being  swung  backwards  and 
fonwds  by  the  rolling  of  the  ves- 
sel, threw  its  light  upon  their  faces 
alternately.  One  seemed  agitated 
wrth  passion,  and  the  other  survey- 
ed him  with  a  scornful  look.  They 
both  talked  very  loudly,  and  used 
threatening  gestures,  but  the  sea 
made  so  much  noise  that  I  could  not 
distinguish  what  was  said.  Ailer  a 
Ottle  time  they  started  up,  and  seem- 
ed to  be  oa  the  point  of  closing  and 
wrestling  together,  when  a  woman 
rushed  through  a  small  door  and 
prevented  them.  I  beat  upon  deck 
with  ray  ti?et  at  the  same  time,  and 
the  attention  of  the  whole  party  was 
soon  transferred  to  the  noise.  One 
of  the  men  immediately  came  up  the 
cabin  stairs,  but  stopped  short  on 
seeing  me,  as  if  irresolute  whether 
to  advance  or  hasten  below  again. 
I  approached  him,  and  told  my  sto- 
ry in  a  few  words,  but  Instead  of 
maldng  any  reply,  he  went  down  to 
the  cabin,  and  began  to  relate  to  the 
others  what  he  liad  seen.  I  soon 
followed  him,  and  easily  found  my 
way  into  the  apartment  where  they 
ail  were.  They  appeared  to  feel 
mingled  sensations  of  fear  and  as- 
tonishment at  my  presence,  and  it 
was  some  time  before  any  of  them 
entered  into  conversation  with  me, 
or  afibrded  those  comforts  which  I 
stood  so  much  in  need  oA 


MiSCBLLilNEOUS.  ^  65 

After  I  had  refreshed  myself  with 
food,  and  been  provided  with  « 
change  of  clothing,  I  went  upon 
deck,  and  survey^  the  singular 
asylum  in  which  Providence  had 
enabled  me  to  take  refuge  from  the 
fury  of  the  storm.  It  did  not  exceed 
thirty  feet  bng,  and  was  very  strong- 
ly built,  and  completely  decked^overy 
except  at  the  entrance  to  the  cabm* 
It  had  a  thick  mast  at  midships,  with 
a  large  lantern,  containing  several 
burners  and  reflecters  on  the  top  of 
it ;  and  this  could  h0  lowered  an4 
hoisted  up  again  as  often  as  requir- 
ed, by  means  of  ropes  and  pullies* 
Tiie  vessel  was  fimoly  moored  upon^ 
an  extensive  sand  bank,  the  beacoa 
being  intended  to  warn  seamen  tc^ 
avoid  a  part  of  the  ocean  where  ma- 
ny lives  and  vessels  had  been  lost  ia 
consequence  of  the  latter  running^ 
aground.  The  accommodations  be- 
low decks  were  narrow,  and  of  an. 
inferior  descriptk)n;  however,  1 
^adly  retured  to  the  birth  thatwafl 
allotted  me  by  my  entertainers ; 
fatigue,  and  the  rocking  of  billowsr,. 
combined  to  lull  me  into  a  quiet  and 
dreamless  sleep. 

'  Next  mommg  one  of  the  men, 
whose  name  was  Angerstoff,  came 
to  my  bedside,  and  called  me  to 
breakfast,  in  a  surly  and  imperious 
manner.  The  others  looked  coldly 
and  distrustfully  when  I  jomed 
them,  and  I'saw  that  they  regarded 
me  as  an  intruder,  and  an  unwel- 
come guest.  The  meal  passed  with- 
out almost  any  conversation,  and  I 
went  upon  deck  whenever  it  was 
over.  The  tempest  of  the  prece- 
ding night  had  in  a  great  measure 
abated,  but  the  sea  still  ran  very 
high,  and  a  black  mist  hovered  over 
it,  tlirough  which  the  Norwegian 
coast,  lying  at  eleven  miles  distance, 
could  be  dimly  seen.  I  lot»ked  in 
vain  for  some  remains  of  the  sloop 
or  boat.  Not  a  bird  enlivened  the 
heaving  expanse  of  waters,  and  I 
turned  shuddering  from  the  dreary 
scene,  and  asked  Morvaldcn,   the 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


€4 


mtCBLLANBOUt. 


youngest  of  the  men,  when  he 
thought  I  had  any  chance  of  getting 
ashore.  ''Not  very  soon,  I  am 
afraid/'  returned  he :  '*  We  are  visits 
ed  once  a  month  by  people  fVom 
yonder  land,  who  are  appointed  to 
bring  us  a  supply  of  provisions  and  I 
other  necessanes.  They  were  here  I 
only  six  days  a^,  so  you  may  count 
how  lonff  it  will  be  before  they^r^^ 
turn.  Fishingboats  sometimes  ps^s 
OS  during  fine  weather,  but  we>iroa't 
have  much  of  that  this  moon  at 
least/' 

No  intelligence  could  have  been 
more  depressing  to  me  than  this. 
The  idea  of  spending  perhaps  three 
weeks  in  sucn  a  place  was  almost 
ifttupportlBible,  and  the  more  so,  as  I 
could  not  hasten  my  deliverance  by 
any  exertions  of  my  own,  but  would 
be  obliged  to  remain,  in  a  state  of 
inactive  suspense,  till  good  fortune, 
or  the  regular  course  of  events,  af- 
forded me  the  means  of  getting 
ashore.  Neither  Angerstoff  nor 
Morvalden  seemed  to  sympathise 
with  my  distress,  or  even  to  care 
that  I  should  have  it  m  my  power 
to  leave  the  vessel,  except  m  so  fac 
as  my  departure  would  free  them 
from  the  expense  of  supporting 
me.  They  returned  indistinct  and 
repulsive  answers  to  all  the  ques- 
tions I  asked,  and  appeared  anxious 
to  avoid  having  the  least  communi- 
cation with  me.  During  the  great- 
er part  of  the  forenoon,  they  em- 
ployed themselves  in  trimming  the 
lamps,  and  cleaning  the  reflectors, 
but  never  conversed  any.  I  easily 
perceived  that  a  mutual  animosi^ 
existed  between  them,  but  was  un- 
able to  discover  the  cause  of  it. — 
Morvalden  seemed  to  fear  Anger- 
ftoflT,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  feel  I 
a  deep  resentment  towords  him,  | 
which  he  did  not  dare  to  express. — 
Angerstoff  apparently  was  aware  of 
thb,  for  he  behaved  to  to  his  com- 
panion with  the  undisguised  fierce- 
ness of  determined  hate,  and  open- 
ly thwarted  him  in  ever}'  thing. 


Marietta,  the  female  on  board, 
was  the  wife  of  Morvalden.  She 
remained  chiefly  below  decks,  and 
attended  to  the  domestic  concerns  of 
the  vessel.  She  was  rather  good- 
looking,  bjjt  so  reserved  and  forbid- 
ding in  her  manners,  that  she  form- 
ed no  desirable  acquisition  to  our 
party;  already  so  heartless  and 
unsociable  in  its  character. 

When  night  approached,  after  the 
lapse  ofa  wearisome  and  monotonous 
day,  I  went  on  deck  to  see  the  bea- 
con lighted,  and  continued  wafking 
backwards  and  forwards  till  a  late 
hour.  I  watched  the  lantern,  as  it 
swung  from  side  to  side,  and  flashed 
upon  diflerent  portions  of  the  sea 
alternately,  and  sometimes  fancied  I 
saw  men  struggling  among  the  bil- 
lows that  tumbled  around,  and  at 
other  times  imagined  that  1  could 
discern  the  white  sail  of  an  ap- 
proaching vessel.  Human  voices 
seemed  to  mingle  with  the  noise  of 
the  bursting  waves,  and  1  often  lis- 
tened intently  almost,  in  the  expect- 
ation of  hearing  articulate  sounds. 
My  mind  grew  sombre  as  the  scene 
itself,  and  strange  and  fearful  ideas 
obtruded  themselves  in  rapid  succes- 
sion. It  was  dreadful  to  be  chained 
in  the  middle  of  the  deep— to  be  the 
continual  sport  of  the  quietless  bil- 
lows— to  be  shunned  as  a  fatal  thing, 
by  those  who  traversed  the  solitary 
ocean.  Though  within  sight  of  the 
shore,  our  situation  was  more  dreary 
than  if  we  bad  been  sailing  a  thou- 
sand miles  from  it.  We  fdt  not  the 
pleasure  of  moving  forward,  nor  the 
hope  of  reaching  port,  nor  the  de- 
lights arising  from  favourable  breeses 
and  genial  weather.  When  a  billow 
drove  us  to  one  side,  we  were  tossed 
back  again  by  another— our  impris- 
onment bad  no  variety  or  definite 
termination — and  the  caljD,  and  the 
tempest,  were  alike  uninteresting  to 
us.  I  felt  as  if  my  fate  bad  already 
become  linked  with  that  of  those  who 
were  on  board  the  vessel.  My  hopes 
of  being  again  permitted. to  mingle 

)igitized  t^y  VjOOQ IC 


SUSaSLLAHSOUI. 


65 


Nndi  mankind  died  tfway,  and  I  an- 
ticipated Ions  years  of  gloom  and 
despair^  in  the  company  of  Uiese 
repubive  persons,  into  whose  hands 
fate  had  unexpectedly  consigned 


me. 


Angerstoff  and  Morvalden  tend- 
ed the  beacon  alternately  during 
the  night.  The  latter  had  the  watch 
while  I  remained  upon  deck.  His 
appearance  and  manner  indicated 
much  perturbation  of  mind,  and  he 
paced  hurriedly  from  side  to  side, 
sometimes  muttering  to  himself, 
and  sometimes  stopping  suddenly 
to  look  through  the  skylight,  as  if 
anxious  to  discover  what  was  going 
on  below.  He  would  then  gaze 
intently  upon  the  heavens,  and  next 
moment  take  out  his  watch,  and 
contemplate  the  motions  of  its 
iiands.  I  did  not  offer  to  disturb 
these  reveries,  and  thought  myself 
altogether  unobserved  by  him,  till 
he  suddenly  advanced  to  the  spot 
where  I  stood,  and  said,  in  a  loud 
whisper,  "  There's  a  villain  below 
— a  desperate  villain — ^this  is  true — 
he  is  capable  of  any  thmg — and  the 
woman  is  as  bad  as  him.''  I  asked 
what  proof  he  had  of  all  this.  ^*  Oh, 
I  know  it,"  returned  he  5  *^  that 
wretch,  Angerstoff,  whom  I  once 
thought  my  friend,  has  gained  my 
wife's  affections.  She  has  been 
faithless  to  me — yes,  she  has.  They 
both  wish  I  were  out  of  the  way. 
Perhaps  they  are  now  planning  my 
destruction.  What  can  I  do  ?  It  is 
very  terrible  to  be  shut  up  in  such 
narrow  limits,  with  those  who  hate 
me,  and  to  have  no  means  of  esca- 
ping, or  defending  myself  from  their 
infernal  machinations."  "  Why  do 
you  not  leave  the  beacon,"  inquired 
I,  '^  and  abandon  your  companion, 
and  guilty  wife  ?''  ^  Ah,  that  is 
impossible,"  answered  Morvalden ; 
"  if  I  went  on  shore,  I  would  forfeit 
my  liberty.  I  live  here,  that  I  may 
escape  the  vengeance  of  the  law, 
which  I  once  outraged,  for  the  sake 
pf  her  who  has  now  withdrawn  her 

vot.  n,  9 


love  from  me.  What  ingratitude  ! 
Mine  is  indeed  a  terrible  fate,  but  I 
must  bear  it  And  shall  I  never 
again  wandet  through  the  green 
fields,  and  climb  the  rocks  that  en- 
circle my  native  place  ?  Are  the 
weary  dashings  of  the  sea,  and  the 
moainings  of  the  wind,  to  fill  my 
ears  continually,  all  the  while  tell- 
ing me  that  I  am  an  exile  ?  ahop«» 
less,  despairing  exile.  But  it  won't 
last  long,"  cried  he,  catching  hold 
of  my  arm ;  "  they  will  murder  me ! 
I  am  sure  of  it ;  I  never  go  to  sleep 
without  dreaming  that  Angerstofi!* 
has  pushed  me  overboard." 

^^  Your  lonely  situation,  and  in- 
active life,  dispose  you  to  give  way 
to  these  chimeras,"  said  1 ;  "  you 
murt  endeavour  to  resist  iliem. — 
Perhaps  things  are  not  so  bad  as 


you    suppose.^ 


«  This  is  not  a 


lonely  situation,"  replied  Morval- 
den, in  a  solemn  tone.  ^  Perhaps 
vou  will  have  proof  of  what  I  say, 
before  you  leave  us.  Many  vessels 
used  to  be  lost  here,  and  a  few  are 
wrecked  still  3  and  the  skeletons  and 
corpses  of  those  who  have  perished 
lie  all  over  the  sand-bank.  Some- 
times, at  midnight,  I  have  seen 
crowds  of  human  figures,  moving 
backwards  and  forwards  upon  the 
surface  of  the  ocean,  almost  as  far 
as  the  eye  could  reach.  I  neither 
knew  who  they  were,  nor  what  they 
did  there.  When  watching  the  lan- 
tern alone,  I  often  hear  a  number  of 
voices  talking  together,  as  it  were, 
under  the  waves;  and  I  twice 
caught  the  very  words  they  uttered, 
but  I  cannot  repeat  them ;  they 
dwell  incessantly  in  my  memory, 
but  my  tongue  refuses  to  pronounce 
them,  or  to  explain  toouiers  what 
they  meant." 

"  Do  not  let  yoiur  senses  be  im- 
posed upon  by  a  distempered  imagi- 
nation," said  1 5  ^*  there  is  no  reali- 
ty in  the  things  you  have  told  me." 
^^  Perhaps  my  mind  occasionally 
wanders  a  little,  for  it  has  a  heavy 
.burden  upon  it,"  returned  Mor\*stt- 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


6t 


miCSLLAKSOUS. 


den.  "  I  hive  been  guilty  of  a 
dreadfiil  erime.  Many  tbut  now 
lie  in  ^e  deep  below  us^  might  start 
up,  and  accuse  oie  of  what  I  am 
just  going  to  reveal  to  you.  One 
stormy  night,  shortly  after  I  began 
to  take  cluurge  of  this  beacon,  while 
watching  on  deck,  I  feU  into  a  pro- 
found sleep ;  I  know  not  how  long 
it  continued,  but  I  was  awakened  by 
horrible  shouts  and  cries — ^I  started 
up,  and  instantly  perceived  that  all 
thelaraps  in  the  lantern  were  ex- 
tinguished. It  was  very  dark,  and 
the  sea  raged  furiously;  but  not- 
withstanding all  this,  I  observed  a 
ship  aground  on  the  bank,  » little 
way  fjTMn  me,  her  sails  fluttering  in 
the  wind,  and  the  waves  breaking 
over  her  with  violenoe.  Half  fran- 
tic with  horror,  I  ran  down  to  the 
cabin  for  a  taper,  and  lighted  the 
lamps  as  fast  as  possible.  The  lan- 
tern, when  hoisted  to  the  topm  the 
mast,  threw  a  vivid  glare  on  ^e 
surrounding  ocean,  and  shewed  me 
the  vessel  disappearing  among  the 
billows.  Hundreds  of  people  lay 
gasping  in  the  water  near  her. — 
Men,  women,  and  children,  writhed 
together  in  agonizing  strug^es,  and 
uttering  soul-hiUTOwing  cries ;  and 
their  countenances,  as  they  gradu- 
ally sttiened  under  the  hand  of 
death,  were  all  turned  towards  me, 
with  glassy  stare,  while  the  lurid  ex- 
pression of  their  glittering  eyes  up- 
braided me  with  having  been  the 
cause  of  their  untimely  end.  Nev- 
er shall  I  forget  those  looks.  They 
haunt  me  wherever  I  am — asleep 
and  awake — n  ight  and  day.  I  have 
kept  this  tale  of  horror  secret  till 
now,  and  I  do  not  know  if  I  shall 
ever  have  courage  to  relate  it  agaki. 
The  masts  of  the  vessel  prqjected 
above  the  surface  of  the  sea  for  sever- 
al months  after  she  was  lost,  as  if  to 
keep  me  in  recollection  of  ^e  night 
on  which  so  many  human  creatures 
perished,  in  consequence  of  my  neg- 
lect and  earelessndto.  Would  to 
God  I  had  no  memory !   I  some- 


times think  I  am  getting  mad.-- 
The  past  and  the  present  are  equfld- 
ly  dreadful  to  ne  ;  and  I  dare  net 
anticipate  the  future." 

I  felt  a  sort  of  superstitious  dread 
steal  over  me,  while  Morvalden  re- 
lated his  stoiy,  and  we  continued 
walking  tlie  dedc  in  sUenoe,  till  the 
period  of  his  watch  expired.  I  then 
went  below,  and  toc^  refuge  in  n^ 
birth,  thou^  I  was  but  Ut&  Bichn- 
ed  for  rieep.  The  gloomy  ideas, 
and  dark  forebodings,  expressed  by 
Morvaklen,  weighed  heavily  upon 
my  mind,  without  my  knowing 
why  I  and  my  situation,  which  had 
at  first  seemed  only  dreary  and  de- 
pressing, began  to  have  something 
indefinitely  terrible  in  its  aspect. 

Next  day,  when  Morvalden  pro- 
ceeded a5ttsual  to  put  the  beiMson 
in  order,  he  called  upon  Angerstofl* 
to  come  and  assist  hiih,  which  the 
latter  peremptorily  reftraed.  Mor- 
valden then  went  down  to  the  cabin, 
where  his  companion  was,  and  re- 
quested to  know  why  Ins  orders  were 
not  obeyed.  <  Because  I  hate  trou- 
ble,' replied  Angerstoflf.  .^I  am 
master  here,'  said  Mor\*alden,  ^  and 
have  been  entrusted  vrith  the  direc- 
tion of  every  thing.  Do  not  at- 
tempt to  trifle  with  me.'  *  Trifle 
with  you  i'  exclaimed  Angerstoflf 
looking  contemptuously.  *  No,  iw 
I  am  no  trifler ;  and  I  advise  you  to 
walk  up  stairs  again,  lest  I  frove 
this  to  your  cost.'  'Why,  hus- 
band,' cried  Marietta,  ^I  believe 
tbere  is  no  bounds  to  your  laziness ; 
you  make  this  young  man  toil  from 
morning  to  night,  and  takeadvan* 
tage  of  his  good  nature  in  die  most 
shameful  manner.'  ^  Peace,  infa- 
mous woman !'  said  Morvaklen  ;  I 
know  very  well  why  you  stand  up  in 
his  defence ;  but  111  put  a  stop  to 
the  intimacy  that  radbsisti  betweoi 
you.  Go  to  your  room  instandy ! 
You  are  my  wife,  and  shall  obey 
me.'  <  Is  this  usage  to  be  borne,' ex- 
claimed Marietta.  <  Will  no  one  step 
fi)rward  to  protect  me  from  his  vio- 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


lence  ?*  "lB8ole»t  fellow/' exclaim- 
ed Angerstoff,  ^  doni  presume  to 
iesiilt  my  mistres*.*  *  Miitress  !^  re- 
peated Morvalden.  'This  to  my 
iace  !'  andstruck  him  a  severe  blow. 
Angerstoff  sprang  forward  with  the 
intention  of  returning  it,  but  I  got 
between  tliem,  and  prevented  him. 
Marietta  then  began  to  shed  tears, 
and  applauded  the  generosity  her 
paramour  had  evinced  in  sparing 
lier  husband,  who  immediately  went 
upon  deck,  without  speaking  a  word, 
and,  hurriedly,  resumed  the  work 
that  had  engaged  his  attention  pre- 
>iou8  to  the  quarrel. 

Neither  of  the  two  men  seemed 
at  all  disposed  for  a  reconciliation, 
and  they  nad  no  intercourse  during 
the  whole  day,  except  angry  and 
revengeful  looks.  I  frequently  ob- 
served iVfarietta  in  deep  consultation 
with  Angerstefi^  and  easily  perceiv- 
ed that  the  subject  of  debate  had 
some  relation  to  her  iiyured  hus- 
band, whose  manner  evinced  much 
alarm  and  anxiety,  although  he  en- 
deavoured to  look  calm  and  cheer- 
ful. He  did  not  make  his  appear- 
ance at  meals,  but  spent  all  his  time 
upon  deck.  Whenever  Angerstoff 
accidentally  passed  him,  he  shrunk 
back,  witli  an  expression  of  dread, 
and  intuitively,  as  it  were,  caught 
hold  of  a  rope,  or  any  other  object 
to  which  he  could  cling.  The  day 
proved  a  wretched  and  fearful  one 
to  me,  for  I  momentarily  expected 
that  some  terrible  affray  woidd  oc- 
cur on  board,  and  that  I  would  be 
implicated  in  it.  I  gazed  upon  the 
f'urrounding  sea,  aUnost  without  in- 
termission, ardently  hoping  that 
some  boat  might  approach  near 
enough  to  afford  me  an  opportunity 
-of  quitting  the  horrid  ana  danger- 
ous abode  to  which  I  was  imprison- 
ed. 

It  was  Angerstoff's  watch  on  deck 
till  midnight ;  and  as  I  did  not  wish 
to  have  any  communication  with 
him,  I  remained  below.  At  twelve 
o'clock,  Morvalden  got  up  and  re- 


MlSCBLLANEOrS.  ^  • 

lieved  him,  and  he  eame  ^wn  to 
the  cabin,  and  soon  after  retired  to 
his  birth.  BeKeving,  from  this  ar- 
rangement, that  they  had  no  hostile 
intentions,  I  lay  down  in  bed  with 
composure,  and  fell  asleep.  It  was 
not  long  before  the  noise  overhead 
awakened  me.  I  started  up,  and 
listened  intently.  The  sound  ap- 
peared to  be  tliat  of  two  pcirsons 
scufilhig  together,  for  a  succession 
of  irregular  footsteps  beat  the  deck, 
and  I  could  hear  violent  blows  given 
at  intervals.  I  got  out  of  my  birth, 
and  entered  the  cabm,  where  I  found 
Marietta  standing  alone,  with  a 
lamp  in  her  hand.  "  Do  you  hear 
that  ?^  cried  L  "  Hear  what  ?"  re- 
turned she ;  "  I  had  a  dreadful 
dream — I  am  all  trembling.''  "  Ig 
Angerstoff  below  ?"  demanded  I. — 
"  No— Yes, I  mean,''  said  Marietta; 
^*  why  do  you  ask  that  ?  He  went 
up  stairs."  "  Your  husband  and  he 
are  fighting.  We  must  part  them 
instantly."  "How  can  that  be?" 
answered  Marietta ;  "  Angerstoff  is 
asleep."  "  Asleep  !  Didn't  you 
say  he  went  up  suirs  ?"  "  I  don't 
know,"  returned  she ;  "  I  am  hard- 
ly awake  yet ;  let  us  listen  a  mo- 
ment." 

Every  thing  was  still  for  a  few 
seconds ;  then  a  voice  shrieked  out^ 
<<  Ah,  that  knife !  You  are  murder- 
ing me  f  Draw  it  out !  No  help  ! 
Are  you  done?  Now — ^now — ^now!" 
A  heavy  body  fell  suddenly  along 
the  deck,  and  some  words  were  spo- 
ken, in  a  faint  tone,  but  the  roanng 
of  the  sea  prevented  me  from  hear- 
faig  what  they  were. 

[to  be  continued.] 


ACCURATE  JUDGMENT. 

Strong  prejudice  is  relieved,  bv 
learning  to  distinguish  things  weD, 
and  not  to  judge  in  the  lump.  There 
is  scarce  any  thing  in  the  world  oi' 
nature^  or  of  art,  in  the  world  of  mo- 
rality, or  religion,  that  b  perfectly 

Dig^ized  by  VjOQQIC 


68 


HISCELLANIOUft. 


tmiform.  There  b  a  mixture  of 
witdom  and  foUy,  rke  and  virtue, 
good  and  evil,  both  in  men  and 
things.  We  should  remember,  that 
some  persons  hate  mat  evil  and 
little  judgment ;  ouers  are  judi- 
cious, but  not  witty.  Some  are 
good  humoured,  widiout  complai- 
aance ;  others  have  all  the  formali- 
ties of  complaisance,  but  no  good 
humour.'  We  ought  to  know,  that 
one  man  may  be  vitious  and  learn- 
ed, while  another  has  virtue,  without 
leammg.  That  many  a  man  tiiinks 
admirably  well,  who  has  a  poor  ut- 
terance ;  while  others  have  a  charm- 
ing manner  of  speech,  but  their 
thoughts  are  trifling  and  imperti- 
nent. Some  are  g(XKi  neighbours, 
and  courteous,  and  charitable  to- 
wards men,  who  have  no  piety  to- 
wards God ;  others  are  trulv  reU- 
gious,  but  of  morose  natural  tem- 
pers. Some  excellent  sayinp  are 
found  in  very  silly  books,  and  some 
silly  thoughts  appear  in  books  of 
value.  We  should  neither  praise 
nor  dispraise  by  wholesale^  sepa- 
rate the  good  from  the  evil,  and 
judge  of  tbBm  apart.  The  ac^uracv 
of  a  good  judgment  consists  much 
in  mudng  such  distinctions. 


For  th£  Masonic  Register. 

FINE  ARTS. 
Baitatk  dPAusterUtzr^F.  Gerard^ 
pinxt.  1 8 10^-J.  Qodefroyy  sculpt. 
1813. 

One  of  the  most  elegant  specl* 
mens  of  excellence  in  the  Fine 
Arts  we  have  ever  witnessed,  is  an 
engraving  of  the  Battle  of  Austei^ 
litz,  from  a  painting  which,  in  the 
prouder  days  of  French  glory, 
adorned  the  canopy  of  one  of  the 
military  edifices  in  Paris.  In  this 
splendid  view,  the  artist  has  dis- 
played no  less  judprament  in  the  se- 
lection of  time  and  place,  than  re- 


gard to  historical  truth,  in  grouping 
m  tiie  foreground  of  his  canvass,  n« 
other  figures  than  then  and  there 
existed.  Napoleon  himself  is  tlie 
centpe  of  the  scene,  and  is  surround- 
ed by  such  of  his  iUustrious  warri- 
ors, whose  duties  called  liiem  to  the 
spot.  The  victorious  leader,  moiBiC- 
ed  on  an  elegant  charger,  is  receiv* 
ingwith  characteriftic  composure, 
the  intelligence  of  the  overthrow  of 
the  Rusuan  Imperial  Guard,  by  the 
similar  corps  of  his  own  army. 
General  Rapp,  an  aid  of  the  empe- 
ror, who  has  just  arrived  wkh  the 
report,  is  perhaps  the  most  spirited 
equestrian  figure  ever  portrayed. 
On  a  fierv  horse,  whose  flanks  bear 
tokens  of  the  dreadful  charge,  he  is 
advancing  furious Iv  (^  his  head  low- 
er than  his  proud  steed's  neck,'') 
into  the  presence  of  Napoleon,  whSe 
the  vigorous  extension  of  hb  arm, 
leaves  the  spectator  in  no  suspense 
as  to  the  purport  of  his  message.  A 
trivial  circumstance,  (the  omission 
of  which  would  scarcely  have  been 
observable,)  tends  essentially  to  the 
effect  of  the  figure,  and  fully  evin- 
ces the  comprehensive  genius  of  the 
artist.  We  allude  to  the  sabre, 
which,  in  the  eamesmess  of  the  aid- 
de-camp,  has  fallen  from  his  grasp, 
and  hangs  by  a  silken  cord  to  hiff 
wrist  On  the  right  of  the  empe- 
ror, b  Berthier,  his  companion  m 
every  battle;  in  the  rear  is  seen 
Duroc,  the  constant  attendant  on 
his  person;  Junot,  in  splendid  at- 
tire, affording  a  strong  contrast  to 
his  associate,  the  less  adorned,  but 
equally  intrepid  Bessieres;  and  to 
complete  the  number,  the  Mama- 
luke  Rustan,  in  his  native  costume. 

What  materially  adds  to  the  in- 
terest of  this  superb  engraving,  is, 
that  all  the  figures  just  mentioned^ 
arc  striking  likenesses;  the  artist 
(Gerard,)  independently  of  his  pres- 
ent fame,  having  long  enjoyed  tJic 
reputation  of  being  one  of  the  first 
portrait  painters  on  the  continent. 

The  whole  of  the  forejrround  is 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MuottfJUfsmri. 


69 


fiUed  wkh  ol^eots  peeuliirto  mod- 
em warfore,  but  OdOTe  particularly^ 
t&  this  sanguinary  battle.  Wehave, 
k  is  true^  no  filling  upof  space  by 
tiie  widely  diffused,  blaze  of  an  ex* 
ploding  sfcell^  or  the  opaque  clouds 
of  ap  exte^ided  volley ;  but  the  spot 
is  crowded  with  animated  represent* 
lations  of  every  particular  c<nps,  in 
their  diversifi^  armour;  relieved 
in  proper  jdaoes  by  a  falling  com- 
rade; a  detachment  of  pris(»iers; 
plunging  steedi;  and  in  a  few  in- 
stances, by  a  Mamaluke,  a  small 
number  of  that  nation  being  at  this 
time  still  in  the  body  guard  of  the 
enperor.  In  the  d^tance,  but 
aufficiently  distinct^  is  visible  the 
array  of  the  main  army. 

T^  engraving  itself,  is  a  faithful 
sdwtract  of  the  original  painting,  and 
IS  one  of  the  finest  trophies  of  the 
triumph  of  arts  and  arms  under  Nap 
poleon,  that  now  survives  him. 

We  cannot  close  our  article,  with- 
out a  few  words  respecting  general 
Rapp,  a  prominent  figure  in  the 
baltle  piece,  and  whose  name  has 
lately  been  associated  with  an  in- 
stance of  gratitude,  that  reflects 
more  credit  on  him  than  all  his  mar- 
tial exploits.  On  hearmg  of  the 
death  of  the  ex-emperor,  he  was 
greatly  afiected,  and  shed  tears; 
when  on  beinff  questioned  by  the 
king  rLouis  aVIII),  he  told  him 
that  tney  had  fallen  for  a  man  to 
whom  hie  owed  every  thing,  even 
the  honour  of  serving  his  present 
majesty!  The  demise  of  his  former 
patrcm,  most  probably  hastened  his 
own  dissolution,  as  he  survived  him 
only  a  few  months.  He  died  on  the 
9th  November,  1821,  near  Basle,  in 
Switzerland,  aged  forty-five  years ; 
and  in  his  jaat  moments,  expressed 
a  desire  to  be  interred  at  Colmar,  in 
Alsace,  his  native  city. 

W. 

%•  Your  correspondent.  R.  (Vol. 
I,  p.  468,)  has  been  led  into  an  er- 
ror respecting  Count  Lobtiu.  Gen- 


eral Mouton  Ditbemeif  who  mtff^red 
death  at  Lyons,  woi-noithe  some 
penon.  Gen.  Mouton,  count  Lo» 
bauy  who  ccHnmanded  ^e  right 
wing  of  the  French  army  at  Water- 
loo, was  taken  prisoner  and  sent  to 
England,  but  being  one  of  the  pro- 
scribed persons,  he  did  not  return  to 
France  again.  In  the  German  cam^ 
paign  of  1809)  he  had  signalized 
himself  by  the  most  extraordinary 
valour;  but  not  mox)^  particularly 
at  Inder  Lobauy  on  Uie  D^ube,  than 
in  the  capture  of  Landshut,  where 
he  stormed  the  town,  by  leading  his 
division  with  fixed  bayonets,  over  a 
bridge  that  was  then  on  fire !  In  the 
succeeding  year,  he  acquired  addir 
tional  renown  at  the  combat  of 
Lerida^  in  Spain. 

WARREN  HASTINGS. 

Perhaps  no  greater'  wretch  ever 
existed  in  human  shape,  than 
Waaren  Hastings,  who  was  gov- 
ernor general  of  the  British  posses- 
sions in  the  East  Indies,  upwards  of 
thirty-five  years  ago.  So  great  was 
his  thirst  for  power  and  wealth,  that 
neither  the  influence  of  conscience, 
nor  the  fear  of  punbhment,  would 
deter  him  firom  crimes  of  the  great- 
est enormity.  He  was  not  only 
guilty  of  plundering  the  towns  and 
villages  of  the  peaceful  inhabitants 
of  that  country,  but  his  steps  were 
marked  by  the  most  horrid  murders 
and  assassinations. 

After  his  recal  to  England,  in  the 
year  1787,  he  was  impeached  in  the 
British  house  of  commons,  by  Mr. 
Sheridan,  of"  High  crimes  and  mis- 
demeanors in  the  East  Indies." — 
Mr.  Sheridan  was  assisted  in  the 
prosecution  by  Messrs.  Fox,  and 
Burke,  who  displayed  on  the  occa- 
sion a  high  degree  of  eloquence  and 
oratory.  But,  alas!  such  was  the 
power  of  money,  and  the  favour  of 
government,  that, after  a  trial,  which 
contmuefl  about  eighteen  years,  he 
was  acquitted,  and  thus  escaped  tlie 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC. 


to 

gibbet;  whichytetfie  intermedmi^ 
thne,  had  been  the  ftte  of  hrnidreds 
la  that  eouBfry^  whose  hand»  had 
ttever  been  stained  with  btootf. 

Among  tile  numerous  crimes,  of 
which  Hastings  was  guilty,  diemui^ 
der  of  Ae  prince  Ahnas  All  Cawn 
stands  most  conspicuous.  Almas 
Ali  Cawn  Wte  an  East  India  prince, 
yoveming  a  populous  and  ^trtlie 
4^ountry,  bordenng  oh  the  English 
possessions.  His  character  was  un* 
impeachable,  and  he  was  universal- 
ly betored  by  his  subjects;  and  bis 
riches  an*  territory  were  viewed 
with  an  eye  of  envy,  by  the  insatia- 
.ble  Hastingjj ;  who,  undei  pretence 
that  the  prince  was  fomenting  dis- 
^u-bances  against  the  English,  caus* 
ed  him  to  be  seized,  and  committed 
to  prison.  Almasa,  the  wife  of 
the  prince,  actuated  by  those  feel- 
ings ever  attendant  on  conjugal  af- 
fection, appeared  before  the  blood- 
thirsty Hastings,  and  on  her  knees, 
humbly  supplicated  him  to  spare 
her  husband's  life;  at  the  same 
time  offering  him  all  the  riclies  they 
possessed,  together  with  the  king- 
dom, as  a  recompense  for  the  re- 
lease of  her  husband,  promising  that 
they  would  both  retire  to  a  private 
station,  to  spend  the  remainder  of 
their  days.  To  these  terms  the 
monster  readily  consented;  when 
the  unfortunate  Almasa  laid  her 
treasures  at  his  feet,  and  resigned.to 
him  all  their  possessions.  In  the 
interim,  the  sanguinary  villain  sent 
to  the  prison,  and  caused  tlie  amia- 


bhi  prince  t»lm  hmgy  fti*iag  dbt, 
at  aftitured«y,  he  wouhl  appear 
agaiHst  him',  aiwyng  sftany  odicny 
as^e  witttesrof  the  enormity  of  kii 
crimes.  After  which^  he  gave  Al- 
masa ail  ettler  fiir  her  budMB#k 
release;  %e  hastened  to  the  fsxh 
OH)  under  the  fond  expectatloo  of 
hbenidng  him  fi'om  the  chains  witfr 
which  he  was  lettered,  and  of  r^ 
eeiving  him  in  her  anns ;  when,  on 
her  entrance,  shocking  to  relate,  ^ 
first  object  she  beheW,  was  the  life- 
less body  of  her  husband,  suspoRled 
from  the  wall  by  a  rope  ?  She  was 
suffered  to  reture ;  and,  afkr  calm 
reflection  had  in  a  dewree  subdued 
the  angubh  of  her  som,  she  address- 
ed h  letter  to  Hastings^  eKprssnye 
of  her  Ibelmgs,  and  of  his  villsny, 
which  was  at  first  (published  in  her 
own  language,  and  aflerwaids  in 
blank  verse,  by  the  lateDr.Ladd, 
which  we  presume  some  of  our 
readers  have  not  had  the  pleasure  of 
perusing;  and  are  confident,  that 
those  who  have,  will  not  be  difr 
pleased  at  seeing  it  recorded  in  die 
Masonic  Register.  The  picture  is 
such,  as  to  excite  a  blush  in  the 
countenance  of  every  rational  man, 
in  view  of  the  common  wicketteess, 
of  which  human  nature  is  capaUeof 
committing,  and  be  a  sting  to  the 
consciences  of  those  h}'pocriti«d 
professors  of  Christianity,  who  dis- 
grace the  cause  of  the  blessed  Re- 
deemer, by  acts  in  direct  opposition 
to  His  holy  precepts  and  example*' 
I 


DOCTOR  LADD'S  VERSIFICATION. 


MY  subjects  slaughtered,  my  whole  kingdom  spoiFd^ 
My  Treasures  rifled,  and  my  husband  slain, 
O  say,  vile  luonsterl  art  thou  satisfied? 
Hast  thou,  lapucious  brute,  sufiicient  weakh  ? 
Vufl,  cruel  murderer,  art  thou  fiUM  with  bk)od  ? 
IVriinps,  insatiate,  thou  art  thirsting  still 
For  human  gfire  !  O,  may'st  thou  ever  thirst ; 
And  niay  the  rit^htcous  God  deny  thee  water 
-  i  o  oDol  t!a  lifiiliMg  blood — ijihuman  wretc?:  i 

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(  ri 

Have  mot  the  bravest  of  my  si^b^cts  foled  ? 

Are  not  they  butcber'd  «U-— all  mMsacred  ? 

And/did  not  India  foam  agam  with  gore  ? 

Wh^re  is  the  murderer  who  hasfllaio  his  Mkm  ? 

Wh^re  is  the  robber  ?  where  the  ptanridde? 

AppjToach ;  for  ye  aie  innocent  and  clean  i 

Youi:  souls  are  whiter  than  the  ocean  foam, 

Comj)ar'd  with  him,  the  murderer  of  mihons  I 

Yes,  bloody  brute!  the  murderer  of  millions ! 

Wh^re  ai'e  the  swarms  that  cover'd  all  n^  land  ? 

Thajt  cultur'd  land,  of  which  each  foot  was  garden, 

DociwiM  to  support  the  miUions  of  my  host  ? 

Are  they  not  butchered  all — all  massacred  ? 

And  butcber'd,  bloody  monster !  by  thy  hasds  ? 

But^  why  ?  because,  vile  harute  !  thou  roust  have  weahh  f 

Because  thou  must  have  wealth,  my  people  bled  ! 

The  land  was  floated  with  a  tide  of  gore  ! 

My  fields,  my  towns,  my  cities  swam  in  blood  t 

And  through  all  India  one  tremendous  groan — 

The  groan  of  millions !  echoed  to  the  heavens. 

Curst  be  your  nation,  and  for  ever  curst 

The  luckless  hour,  when  India  first  beheld  you* 

We  have  a  custom  here,  as  old  as  time, 

Of  honouring  justice — ^Why  ?  because  'tis  justice : 

And  virtue  is  belov'd,  because  'tis  virtue. 

As  Indians  need  no  hell,  they  know  of  none ; 

You  Christians  say  you've  one— His  well  you  ha\'e ; 

Your  crimes  call  loudly  for  itr— and.  Christians, 

If  Hastings  is  not  damn'd,  where  sleeps  your  God  ? 

Your  boasted  Justice  where  ?  Shall  heaven  become 

A  black  accomplice  in  the  monster's  guilt  ? 

Hastings !  my  husband  was  your  prisoner ; 

The  wealth  of  kingdoms  flew  to  his  relief  5 

You  took  tlie  ransom,  and  you  broke  your  faith. 

Almas  was  slain-- 4t  was  perjury  to  your  soul, 

But  pegury  is  a  little  crime  to  you ; 

In  souls  so  black  it  seems  alp^ost  aVirtae. 

Know,  monster  !  know,  that  the  prodigious  wealth 

You  sold  your  soul  for,  was  by  justice  gaui'd, 

'Twas  not  acqulr'd  by  rapine,  force  and  murder. 

The  treasures  of  my  fathers ;  theirs  by  conquest. 

And  legal  domuiation ;  from  old  time 

Transmitted  from  the  father  to  the  son 

In  just  succession  ;  now  you  call  it  yours ; 

And  deaaiy  hxve  you  purchas'd  it ;  ibr  know, 

When  the  just  Gods  shall  hear  the  cry  of  blood. 

And  of  your  hands  demand  the  souls  you've  murdered, 

That  gold  wiD  never  pay  their  price ;  will  never  pay 

Your  awful  ransom !  you  must  go  where  Almas 

^its  on  a  lofW  throne,  and  every  hour 

He  stabs  an  Englishman,  and  sweetly  feasts 

Upon  his  bloody  heart  and  tremblmg  liver  ! 

For^  mcmstrous  wretch !  to  thy  confusion  know^ 

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MISGELLANBOCS. 

Almas  can  relish  now  no  other  food 

Than  hearts  of  Englishmen  !  yet  thou  art  safe  5 

Yes,  monster,  thou  art  safe  from  this  repast, 

A  heart  polluted  nith  ten  thousand  crimes 

Is  not  a  feast  for  Almas.     Tremble,  yet, 

Hc^l  tear  that  heart  out  of  its  bloody  case, 

And  toss  it  to  his  dogs  !  full  many  a  vulture 

Be  poison'd  by  th^  corse :  Wolves  sliall  run  mad 

By  feeding  on  thy  murdVous  carcase — more, 

When  some  vile  wretch,  some  monster  of  mankind, 

Sqme  brute,  like  thee ;  perhaps  thy  relative, 

Ltiden  with  horrid  crimes,  without  a  name, 

Shall  stalk  through  earth,  and  we  want  curses  for  him  j 

We'll  torture  thought  to  curse  the  ^Tetch ;  and  then 

To  damn  him  nu>st  supremely,  we'll  call  him  Hastings. 


JANE  M'CREA. 

This  young  woman,  it  will  be  re- 
collected by  some  of  our  readers, 
was,  in  the  summer  of  1777,  inhu- 
manly murdered  and  scalped,  by  a 
party  of  British  Indians,  near  Fort 
Edward  ;*  and  her  body,  owing  to 
the  perilous  state  of  the  times,  re- 
ceived a  hasty  and  informal  burial, 
in  a  field,  about  three  miles  distant 
from  tlic  Fort. 

Her  remains  were  recently  disin- 
terred by  the  young  gentlemen  of 
Fort  Edward,  and  its  vicinity,  for 
the  humane  and  praiseworthy  pur- 
pose of  depositing  them  in  the  pub- 
lic cemetery;  and  on  the  13th  of 
April  last,  pursuant  to  notice,*  not- 
withstanding the  badness  of  the 
weather,  a  large  and  respectable 
concourse  of  people  assembled  from 
the  neighbourhood  and  the  adjoin* 
ing  counties,  to  attend  her  obse- 
quies. The  family  of  Judge  M'- 
Crea,  of  Ballston,  and  other  rela- 
tives of  tlie  deceased,  were  present 
on  this  occasion. 

Although  forty-five  years  have 
almost  elapsed  since  the  remains  of 
this  unfortunate  girl  were  commit- 
ted to  her  mother  earth,  yet  but 
few  of  the  bones  were  decomposed 

*See  Masonic  Register^  Vol.L 
j^age  154. 


and  the  traces  of  the  fatal  toraaha^fk 
in  the  skull  were  still  visible. 

FEMALE  EDUCATION. 

The  Bellows  FaDs  paper,  give^ 
a  pleasant  description  of  die  mar- 
riage of  an  honest  farmer  toa  youog 
lady  just  graduated  from  a  couHin' 
Female  Academy,  after  a  residence 
therein  of  about  six  months.  The 
husband,  boasting  of  her  leanungt 
says  :  "  She  can  tell  the  year  and 
day  of  the  month  when  our  fore- 
fathers landed  at  Plymouth ;  know^ 
tije  name  of  every  capital  town  in 
tlie  Union ;  can  tell  to  an  inch  haw 
far  it  is  from  here  to  the  Antipodef^ 
I  think  she  calls  them.  If  you 
should  bore  a  hole  tlirou^  the 
globe,  and  chuck  a  mOlstone  into  1^ 
she  can  tell  to  a  shaving  what  woiiM 
become  of  the  milbtone.  She  i< 
likewise  a  monstrous  pretty  paint- 1 
er,  and  can  paint  a  puj^y  80  well 
that  you  take  it  for  a  lion,  and  sheep 
that  look  as  big  and  as  grand  as  as 
elephant.  She  knows  idl  aboot 
chymistry,  and  says  that  wat^i^ 
composed  of  two  lands  of  gin,  tiwi 
is  to  say,  ox-gin,  and  hydeMo: 
and  air  is  made  of  ox-gin,  and  ni- 
tre-gin, or  (what  t>  the  9amein  S^ 
lishy)  saltpetre-gin.  She  i^  th^ 
burning  a  stick  of  wood  in  W  fite* 

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h  nothing  fajita'play  of  comical 
(Chemical)  irifiniti/  :  and  that  not  a 
particle  of  the  matter  which  belong- 
ed to  tlie  sti^k  is  lost,  but  only  scat- 
tered about'  like  chaff  iu  a  hurri- 


eane/' 


PETER  PIKDAR'S  OPINION  OF 
CATS  AND  DOGS. 

I  do  not  ^ove  a  cat — ^his  dbposi- 
tion  is  me^n  and  suspicious.  A 
friendship  (if  years  is  cancelled  in  a 
moment,  by  an  accidental  tread  on 
his  tail  or  foot.  He  instantly  spits, 
raises  his  back,  twiils  his  tail  of  ma- 
lignity, and  shows  you,  turning  back 
as  he  goes  off,  a  staring,  vindictive 
face,  Aill  of  horrid  oaths  and  unfor- 
giveness,  seeming  to  say,  "Perdi- 
tion catch  you  !  I  hate  you  £or  ev- 
er." But  the  dog  is  my  delight : 
tread  on  his  tail  or  foot,  h^  express- 
es, for  a  moment,  the  uneasiness  of 
his  feelings;  but  in  an  instant  the 
complaint  b  ended.  He  runs  round 
you;  seems  to  declare  his  sorrow 
for  complaining,  as  it  was  not  inten- 
tionally done  5  nay,  to  make  himself 
the  aggressor ;  and  begs,  by  whin- 
ings  and  hckings,  that  his  master 
will  think  no  more  of  it.  Many  a 
time  when  Ranger,  wishing  for  a 
little  sport,  has  run  to  the  gun,  smell- 
ed  to  it,  then  wriggling  his  tail,  and 
with  his  eyes  fuS  of  the  most  ex- 
pressive fire,  leaping  up  against  me, 
whining  and  begging,  have  I,  against 
my  inclination,  indulged  him  with  a 
scamper  through  the  woods,  or  in 
the  fields ;  for  many  a  time  hfe  has 
left  a  warm  nest,  among  the  snows 
of  winter,  to  start  pleasure  for  me. 
Thus  there  is  a  moral  obligation 
between  a  man  and  a  dog. 


"THOU  MUST  DIE." 

When  we  bring  to  mind  tliis  aw- 
ful sentence,  which  has  been  passed 
upon  every  creature  inhabiting  thb 
ball  of  earth,  how  insignificant  ap- 

voL.  ir.  la 


MI8CILLANK0U9.  ^3 

pear  the  low  pursuits  which  agitate 
the  toiling  race  of  man.  He  who 
has  been  for  a  series  of  years  build- 
ing airy  castles,  and  preparing  for 
future  years  of  enjoyment ;  who 
has  been  fiUmg  his  bams  with  pien* 
ty,  and  his  stores  with  abundance-— 
how  is  he  astonished,  when  to  him 
is  sent  this  awful  sunmions !  Hit 
proud  projects  vanish  into  empti- 
ness, and  more  worthless  than  chaff 
appear  those  vast  regions  of  gran- 
deur, which  had  called  forth  all  the 
energies  of  his  mind.  Not  so  the 
Christian,  who 

•*Hm  made  tbettatntot  of  the  Lord    ^' 
Hit  ttady  aad  delight.*' 

To  him,  death  comes  not  unlooked 
for — he  knows  it  is  the  lot  of  our 
frail  nature,  and  he  rejoices  in  it,  as 
the  road  to  blessedness.  Sustained 
by  the  hope  of  glory,  he  sinks  not 
under  the  rendings  of  pain — the 
agonies  of  disease  are  considered  as 
the  price  of  his  passport  to  a  happi- 
er state,  and  receives  the  cup  of  af- 
fliction. The  death  of  the  Chris- 
tian, is  the  revival  of  faith.  Those 
who  stand  at  the  bedside — ^who  be- 
hold him  throw  off  the  shackles  of 
mortality ;  his  countenance  beaming 
with  heavenly  smiles,  and  his  lips 
uttering  praise — must  surely  be  con^ 
vinced  that  he  has  followed  no 
"  cunningly  devised  fables^^ — and 
even  skeptics  must  be  induced  to 
wish,  that  their  latter  end  might  be 
like  his.— Peopi!e'«  Friend* 


A  Grecian  youth,  taking  leave  of 
his  fatlier  to  go  to  battle,  promised 
to  bring  home  the  head  of  one  of  the 
enemy.  "  I  pray,  (said  the  father,) 
you  may  return  safe  yourself,  though 
withoiU  a  headJ^ 


The  editor  of  a  late  Western 
paper,  in  his  notice  to  a  corres- 
pondent, says,  "  Truth  wiU  appear 
in  our  ncxt.^^ 


l^zed  by  Google 


74 


msCXLLANBOtf. 


f 


STUPENDOUS  CAVERN. 

There  was  discovered  a  few 
wepks  smce,  on  the  north  bank  of 
the  Black  river,  upon  the  laud  of 
Jamps  Le  Roy,  Esq.  opposite  the 
Tillage  of  Watertown,  an  extraordi- 
nary cavern  or  grotto ;  the  mouth 
of  which  is  about  ten  rodsYrom  the 
river,  north  of  the  falls  and  of  Cow- 
an's island. 

The  great  extent  of  the  cavern, 
and  the  great  number  of  spacious 
rooms,  halls,  and  chambers,  into 
ii^ich  it  is  divided,  and  the  immense 
qbantitles  of  calcarious  concretions 
which  it  contains,  and  diflferent 
states  of  those  concretions,  from  the 
consistence  of  lime  mortar,  to  that 
of  the  most  beautiful  stalactites  as 
hard  as  marble,  render  it  difficult,  if 
not  impossible  to  describe  it,  and  I 
shall  only  attempt  to  give  a  faint  de- 
scription of  three  or  ibur  rooms. 

The  moutli  of  tlie  cavern  is  in  a 
small  hollow,  about  five  feet  below 
the  surrounding  surface  of  the  earth; 
you  then  descend  sixteen  and  a  half 
feet  into  a  room  about  16  by  20  It 
and  8  feet  high ;  and  behold  in  front 
of  you,  a  large  flat  or  table  rock,  12 
<>r  14  feet  square,  2  feet  thick,  and 
elevated  about  four  feet  from  the 
bottom  of  the  cavern  ;  the  roof  over 
head  covered  with  stalactites,  some 
of  which  reach  to  the  table  rock. 
On  your  left  hand,  is  an  arched  way, 
of  1 50  feet ;  and  on  your  right  hand 
is  another  arched  way,  6  feet  broad 
at  the  bottom,  and  6  feet  high,  which 
leads  into  a  large  room,  passing  by 
this  arch  about  20  feet,  you  arrive 
at  another,  which  leads  into  a  hall, 
10  feet  wide  and  100  feet  long,  from 
5  to  S  feet  high,  supported  with  pil- 
lars and  arches,  and  the  sides  bor- 
dered with  curtains  pleated  in  vari- 
egated forms  as  white  as  snow. 
Near  the  middle  of  this  hall,  .is  an 
arched  way,  through  which  vou  pass 
into  a  large  room ;  which,  like  the 
hall,  is  bordered  with  curtains,  and 
hung  over  with  stalactites  j  return- 


ing into  the  hall,  ]fou  nptn  tbtMigfa 
another  asch  into  anuii^nkf  of  roomt 
on  the  led  hand,  curtaiil|«d,iiid  with 
stalactites  hanging  firoAn  die  rooll 
You  theh  descend  about!  10  feet,  in- 
to a  chamber  about  20  Weet  square 
and  2  feet  high,  ciurtslined  inUke 
manner,  and  hung  overlwitb  stalac- 
tites. In  one  corner  ofltliis  cham- 
ber, a  small  mound  b  folnoed  about 
12  feet  in  diameter,  risinw  three  feet 
from  the  floor;  the  top^which  is 
hollow  and  full  of  watef;  from  the 
drippings  of  stalactites  a^Mve ;  some 
of  which  reach  near  to  tlte  basin. 

Descending  from  this  chamber, 
and  passing  through  another  arch 
into  a  hall  by  the  side  of  which  you 
see  another  basin  of  water,  rising 
about  foiir  inches  from  the  floor; 
form^  in  the  same  way,  but  in  the 
shape,  size,  and  thickness  of  a  large 
tea  tray,  full  of  the  most  pure  and 
transparent  water. 

The  number  and  spaciouaiess  of 
the  rooms,  curtained  and  pleated 
with  large  pleats,  extending  akuig 
the  walls  from  two  to  tliree  feet  from 
the  roof  5  of  the  most  perfect  white- 
ness, resembling  the  most  beautiful 
tapestry,  with  which  the  rooms  are 
cmbordered ;  and  the  large  drops  of 
water,  which  are  constantly  suspen- 
ded on  the  points  of  innumerable 
stalactites,  which  hang  from  the 
roofs  above;  and  the  columns  of 
spar  resting  on  pedestab,  which,  in 
some  places,  appear  to  be  formed  to 
support  the  arches  above — ^the  re- 
flection of  the  lights,  and  the  great 
extent  and  variety  of  the  scenery  of 
this  amazing  cavern,  form  altogeth- 
er, one  of  the  most  pleasing  and  in- 
tercstuig  scenes,  that  was  ever  be- 
held by  the  eye  of  mortal  man. 

Its  discovery  immediately  drew 
to  it  great  numbers  of  people  from 
the  village  and  surrounding  coun- 
try ;  who  were  making  great  depre- 
dations upon  it,  by  breaking  off  and 
carrying  away,  whatever  they  es- 
teemed most  curious ;  when  Samuel 
C.  Kennedy,  Esq.  Mr.  Le  Koy^ 

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Hgenty  was  applied  to,  to  prevent 
further  spoliations ;  who  immediate- 
ly directed  the  passage  into  the  cav- 
ern tot>e  enlarged ;  stairways  made, 
with  a  strong  door  placed  under 
a  lock  and  key ;  wliich  has  been 
finished,  and  the  door  closed. 

The  discovery  of  this  grotto,  add- 
ed to  the  extensive  petrifaction  along 
the  river  in  this  vicinity,  especially 
on  Cowan's  Island,  of  the  once  in- 
habitants of  the  deep,  cannot  fail  to 
render  Watertown,  (to  the  curious 
at  least)  a  lasting  place  of  resort. 

It  may  be  proper  to  mention 
here,  that  the  cavern  has  been  but 
partially  explored,  and  that  no  one 
who  has  been  into  it,  although  some 
suppose  they  have  travelled  more 
than  1 00  rods,  pretend  to  have  found 
the  extent  of  it,  or  to  know  thinum- 
ber  of  rooms,  halls,  and  chambers 
which  it  contains. — Water.  Rep. 


IRISH  NEGRO. 

A  negro  from  Montczerat,  or  Ma- 
rigalante,  where  the  Hibemo  Celtic 
is  spoken  by  all  classes,  happened  to 
be  on  tlie  wharf  at  Philadelphia, 
when  a  number  of  Irbh  emigrants 
were  landed ;  and  seeing  one  of 
them  with  a  wife  and  four  children, 
he  stepped  forward  to  assist  the  fam- 
ily on  shore.  The  Irishman,  in  his 
native  tongue,  expressed  his  surprise 
at  the  activity  of  the  negro  ;  who, 
\mderstanding  what  had  been  said, 
replied  in  Irish,  that  he  need  not  be 
astonished,  for  that  he  was  a  bit  of 
m  Irishman  himself.  The  Irisliman, 
surprised  at  hearing  a  black  man 
speak  his  Milesian  dialect,  it  enter- 
ed his  mind,  with  the  usual  rapidity 
of  Irish  fancy,  that  he  really  was  an 
Irishman,  but  that  the  climate  had 
changed  his  fair  complexion.  *^  If 
I  may  be  so  bold,  sir/^  said  he,«  may 
I  ask  how  long  you  have  been  in  this 
f^untryV^  The  negro  man,  who 
had  only  come  hither  on  a  voyage. 


MSCILLAKEOtSl.  7^ 

said  he  had  been  in  Philadelphia 
about  four  months. 

Poor  Patrick  turned  round  to  hit 
wife  and  children,  and  looking,  as  \£ 
for  the  last  time,  on  their  rosy 
cheeks,  concluding  that  in  four 
months  they  must  also  change  their 
complexion,  exclaimed,  **  O,  mer- 
ciful powers  !  Biddy,  did  vou  hear 
that?  He  is  not  more  than  four 
months  in  this  country,  and  he  if  al- 
ready almost  as  black  as  jeU^ 


For  TBI  Masoxic  Rcoistcb. 
LINES, 

{By  a  Lady,  on  her  Friend.) 

C  \NST  thoQ,  dear  youth,  believe  it  true, 
A  ilh  what  regret  I  part  from  you  f 
Vcrer,  ah  !  never,  ^faall  I  find, 
A  friend  more  true,  linoere,  and  kind. 

For  oft,  when  care  oppressed  my  heart, 
Thou  didst  a  tender  balm  impart ; 
Hung  o'er  my  bed  when  sickness  presi'd, 
And  strove  to  sooth  my  pains  to  reit. 

Vnd  shalt  thou  not  remember'd  be. 
Who  wert  so  good,  so  kind  to  me  ? 
Dear  youth,  while  memory  holds  her  part, 
ill  bear  thy  'membrance,  in  my  heart. 

\nd  may  each  year  be  richly  fraught 
With  choicest  blessings,  wanting  nought 
1'hat  can  secure  peace  to  thy  breast, 
And  an  eternal  state  of  rest. 

When  sammon*d  from  this  world  of  wo, 
'  o  meet  a  gracious  (iod,  you  go. 
Oh  !  may  these  words  salute  your  ear/ 
Obpelliug  every  anxious  fear. 

Come,  come,  ye  blessed  of  the  Lord, 
Who,  while  on  earth,  receiv*d  his  word, 
Enter  the  blissful  realms  abore, 
And  celebrate  a  Saviour's  lore. 

£:mma. 


DIED, 

At  Braddock's  Field,  near  Pittf- 
burg,  on  the  10th  of  April  )«st,  gen- 
eral John  Gibson.  During  the  rev- 
oiutionary  war,  he  commanded  a 
regiment  on  the  continental  estab* 
lishmenty  with  honour-  to  h^^i^lf, 


76  MASONIC. 

and  adTHntage  to  his  country.  In 
1774,  he  served  under  lord  Dun- 
tnore,  in  the  expedition  against  the 
Shawnee  Towns ;  and  being  sent  in 
with  a  flag,  he  received  from  the  lips 
of  the  celebrated  chief  Logan,  the 
speech,  so  much  admired  as  a  ipe- 
cimen  of  Indian  eloquence.  He 
believed  that  the  speech  as  given 
in  Mr.  Jefferson's  Notes  on  Vir- 
ginia, was  an  accurate  copy  of  a  lit- 
eral translation  which  he  delivered 
to  lord  Dunmore.  General  Gibson 
passed  through  life  with  the  reputa- 
tion of  a  brave  soldier,  and  an  hon- 
est man*— PAtX|iqier. 


A  SUDDEN  NAP. 

Two  Oxford  scholars  slept  in  the 
same  ro' mi  at  college.  "John,'' says 
one, ebrly  in  the  morning,  "are  you 
asleep?"  •*  Why  ?"  replied  tlie  otli- 
er.  "  Because,  if  you  are  not,  I  want 
to  borrow  halfa  dollar  of  you."  "Is 
that  all  ?  Then  I  am." 


MASONIC 


CKAMi  L.  D<jK  (>^  THK  UNITED 
STATES. 

The  following  document,  with 
which  we  have  been  lately  favour- 
ed, will  be  read  with  peculiar  pleas- 
ure by  the  fraternity  at  large.  It 
must  be  truly  gratifying  to  every 
true  hearted  mason,  to  observe  men 
of  the  first  standing  in  our  country, 
not  only  as  masons,  but  as  states- 
men, and  as  the  patrons  of  litera- 
ture, uniting  their  exertions,  to 
establish  a  noHonal  grand  lodge;  an 


institution,  of  which  the  craft  on  thii 
side  the  Atlantic  have  long  fdt  the 
want,  as  the  only  means  of  estab- 
lishing a  uniform  mode  of  workings 
and  perpetuating  perfect  unanimity 
among  the  brethren ;  besides  form- 
ing regular  correspondences  with 
the  various  grand  lodges  of  foreign 
nations. 

We  rejoice  to  state,  that  all  the 
information  we  have  received  os 
the  subject,  from  dififerent  puts  of 
the  United  States,  since  die  meedng 
at  Washington,  is  highly  fiivourable 
to  the  measure ;  and  we  flatter  our- 
selve%  that  tlie  proposed  assembly 
will  be  generally  attended. 

MASONIC  NOTICE. 

Those  members  of  congress,  who 
belong  to  the  masonic  fraternity, 
and  tliose  visiters  of  the  city,  who 
are  or  have  been  members  of  any 
state  grand  lodge,  are  respectfully 
invited  to  attend  a  meeting,  to  be 
held  in  tlie  Senate  Chamber,  tfaii 
evening,  at  seven  o'clock,  to  take 
into  consideration  matters  of  gen^ 
ral  interest  to  the  masonic  institn- 
tion. 
,    MarcA9,1822* 


Pursuant  to  the  above  notice, 
published  in  the  National  Intelli- 
gencer, a  number  of  members  of  the 
society  of  freemasons,  from  various 
parts  of  the  United  States,  composed 
of  members  of  congress  and  stran- 
gers, assembled  at  the  capitol,  in 
the  city  of  Washington,  JVf arch  9, 
1822.  Brother  Thomas  R.  Ross, 
was  appointed  chairman,  and  broth- 
er William  Dahlinoton,  member 
of  congress,  of  Pennsylvania,  secrt- 
tary;  and  it  was  unanimpusly 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


Resolvedf  That,  in  the  opinion  of 
ihls  meeting,  it  is  ex])edienty  for  the 
general  interests  of  freemasonry,  to 
constitute  a  general  grand  lodge  of 
the  United  States. 

Resolvedy  That  it  be  proposed  to 
the  several  grand  lodges  in  the 
United  States,  to  take  the  subject 
into  their  serious  consideration,  at 
their  next  annual  communications ; 
and  that,  if  they  approve  of  the  form- 
ation of  a  general  grand  lodge,  it  be 
recommended  io  them  to  appoint 
one  or  more  deleg-ates,  to  assemble 
ill  the  city  of  Washington,  on  the 
second  Monday  of  February  next, 
to  agree  on  the  organization  of  such 
grand  lodge. 

Resolvedy  That  if  two-thirds  of 
the  grand  lodges  within  the  United 
States,  concur  in  the  propriety  ol* 
establishing  ogenei*al  grand  lodge,  it 
be  recommended  to  tliera  to  instruct 
their  representatives  to  proceed  to 
the  formation  of  a  constitution  of  a 
general  grand  lodge,  to  be  subse- 
quently submitted  to  the  several 
grand  lodges  in  the  Union,  for  their 
ratification ;  and  which,  being  rati- 
fied by  a  majority  of  them,  shall  be 
considered  as  tlienceforth  binding 
on  all  the  grand  lodges  assenting 
thereto. 

Resolvedy  That  the  most  wor- 
shipful John  Marshall,  of  Virginia ; 
Henry  Clay,of  Kentucky ;  William 
H.  Wmdor,  of  Maryland ;  William 
S.  Cardell,  of  New^York  ;  Joel  Ab- 
bot, of  Georgia ;  John  Holmes,  of 
Mame;  Henry  Baldwin,  of  Peim 
fiylvania ;  John  H.  Eaton,  of  Ten 
nessee;  William  W.  Seaton,  of 
Washington;  Christopher  Hankin, 
of  Mississippi ;  Thomas  R.  Ross,  of 
Ohio;  H.  G.  Burton,  of  North  Car- 
olina; and  the  Rev.  Thaddeus  M. 
Harris,  D.  D.  of  Massachusetts,  be, 
and  they  hereby  are,  appointed  a 
cooimittee,  to  open  a  correspond- 
ence with  the  respective  grand 
lodges  within  the  United  States, 
aud  to  take  such  measures  therein, 
^    they  may  deem  expedient  to  I 


MAsomc.  77 

carry  the  aforesaid  resolutions  inte 
effect. 


The  committee,  in  complying 
with  the  above  resolutions,  are 
aware,  that  a  meeting  of  individual 
masons,  however  respectable  in 
number  and  character,  could  dele- 
gate no  regular  authority  in  behalf 
of  tlie  masonic  body ;  and,  if  they 
could,  it  was  unnecessary.  Tlii» 
paper  will,  therefore,  be  understood 
as  it  is  intended,  a  proceeding,  ori- 
ginating in  tlie  necessity  of  tlie 
case,  to  adopt  some  mode  by  which 
the  general  views  of  masons  in  the 
different  states  of  the  Americai^ 
Union  may  be  ascertained. 

Tlie  history  of  the  masonic  insti- 
tution shows  tliat,  though  establish- 
ed auiong  various  nations,  it  was,  in 
each,  coimtry,  confined  to  a  com- 
paratively small  number.  The  ju^ 
risdiction  exercised  by  grand  lodges, 
like  almost  every  exertion  of  power, 
or  of  moral  influence,  was  concen- 
trated in  different  capital  cities. 
The  subordinate  lodges  were  few  in 
number,  and  their  connexion  with 
the  supreme  head  was  very  direct. 
Till  witiiiii  a  recent  period,  it  is  be- 
lieved, no  great  number  of  lodges 
have  been  united  imder  a  single 
jurisdiction.  The  art  of  printing, 
and  other  causes,  have  produced 
great  changes  in  the  condition  of 
the  world;  and  these  causes  have 
operated  in  their  full  proportion  on 
the  society  of  freemasons.  The 
sphere  of  civilization  is  greatly  en- 
larging its  boundaries :  intellectual 
attainments,  and  the  mfluence  of 
moral  operations,  are  taking  the 
place  of  brute  force :  known  princi- 
ples and  laws  are  recognized ;  and 
the  advantages  of  cultivated  reason 
are  shared,  by  an  increased  propor- 
tion of  mankind.  Under  these  cir- 
cumstances, masonry  has  been  ex- 
tended, and  its  lodges  so  multiplied, 
as  to  make  their  projper  conduct  a 
subject  of  much  interest  to  the 
friends  of  llie  society.  , 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


78 


MASONIC 


There  iore  two  points  which  at 
imce  present  themselves^  in  connex- 
ion with  the  idea  of  establishing  a 
feneral  grand  lodge  of  the  United 
tates.  The  first  is  to  acquire,  in  a 
correspondence  with  foreign  na- 
tions; an  elevated  stand  for  the  ma- 
tenry  of  this  country ;  to  unite  with 
them  in  maintaining  its  general 
principles  in  their. purity;  and,  se- 
condly, to  preserve,  between  our 
xmn  states,  that  uniformity  in  work, 
and  that  active  interchange  of  good 
offices,  which  would  be  difficult,  if 
not  impossible,  by  other  means. 

The  committee  do  not  presume  to 
instruct  their  brethren  in  the  nature 
t>f  an  institution  in  which  they  have 
tt  common  interest.  They  are 
governed  by  a  few  plain  considera- 
tions, known  to  all  who  have  attend- 
ed to  ihe  subject. 

Ilie  antiquity  of  the  masoilie  so- 
ciety, extending  so  far  beyond  all 
otlier  human  associations,  seizes  the 
attention,  and  the  mind  is  naturally 
impressed  with  feelings  of  interest 
for  an  institution,  transmitted  to  us 
through  the  long  train  of  a  hundred 
ages.  Time,  which  destioys  all 
perishable  things,  seems  to  have 
consolidated  the  pillars  of  this  moral 
temple.  We  contemplate  the  long 
catalogue  of  excellent  men,  who 
have  been  equally  the  supporters  of 
masonry,  and  the  ornaments  of 
human  nature ;  and,  we  say,  almost 
unconsciously,  that  the  present  gen- 
eration, with  all  its  lights,  must  not 
tarnish  the  name  of  an  institution, 
consecrated  by  so  many  circum- 
stances, calculated  to  endear  it  to 
the  mind  of  a  good  man. 

Without  making  invidious  com- 
parisons between  the  United  States 
and  other  portions  of  the  world, 
there  are  some  great  considerations 
of  responsibility,  which  our  intelli- 
gent citizens,  accustomed  to  reflect 
on  the  affairs  of  nations,  cannot 
overlook.  The  masons  of  the  Uni- 
ted States,  in  character  as  such, 
have  their  full  share  of  this  moral 


responsibility.  They  will  considec 
their  institution  as  one  of  the  great 
social  causes,  to  allay  low-minded 
jealousies  between  nations  at  peace; 
and  in  war  to  mitigate  the  horrors 
which  it  cannot  avert.  WhUe  they 
offer  their  gratitude  to  a  Beneficent 
Providence  for  their  own  blessings, 
they  will  hot  be  regardless  of  thw 
obligations  to  their  brethren  through 
the  world. 

These  reflections,  drawn  from 
the  external  circumstances  of  ma- 
sonry, are  strengthened  by  the  con- 
sideration of  its  intrinsic  nature. 
Its  foundation  is  fixed  m  the  social 
ibelings  and  the  best  pr'mciples  <^ 
the  human  mind.  Its  maxims  are 
the  lessons  of  virtue,  reduced  to 
their  practical  application.  It  stands 
opposed  to  sordidness  ;  to  a  jeakmi 
or  revengeful  temper;  to  all  the 
selfish  and  malevolent  passions:  it 
coincides  with  the  highest  motivw 
of  patriotism ;  the  most  expanded 
philanthropy,  and  concentrates  al! 
its  precepts  in  reverence  to  a  Diriae 
Creator,  and  good  will  to  man. 

The  United  States  are  supposed 
to  contain  near  80,000  freemasons. 
They  are  generally  in  the  vigor  of 
manhood,  and  capable  of  much  ac- 
tive usefulness.  Notwithstanding 
the  abuses  in  some  places,  by  the 
admission  of  unworthy  members, 
they  are,  as  a  body,  above  medioc- 
rity in  character  and  talent.  It  be- 
comes an  interesting  question,  bow 
the  energies  of  this  body  can  be  best 
combined,  to  give  effect  te  ilie 
benevolent  design  of  their  associa- 
tion. 

From  causes  which  need  no  ex- 
planation, the  masonic  jurisdiction 
in  this  country  has  taken  its  form 
from  the  political  divisions.  -  The 
modification  which  it  has  under- 
gone, from  the  spirit  of  our  civil  in- 
stitutions, lias  its  benefits,  and  its 
defects.  Each  of  our  state  jurisdic- 
tions is  supreme  within  ixs^* 
Whatever  collisions  may  exist; 
whatever  abuses ;  whatever  depart* 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


tires  firom  the  correct  standard,  in 
principle,  or  in  rites;  whatever  inju- 
ry to  the  common  cause;  there  is 
no  mode  assigned  to  obviate  the 
wrongs  which  it  is  the  interest  of  ail 
to  prevent.  There  is  no  provision 
for  a  systematic  interchange  of  ma- 
sonic intelligence.  In  one  or  two 
instances  there  are  two  or  more 
grand  lodges  in  the  same  state,  each 
claiming  superior  jurisdiction,  and 
with  no  acknowledged  boundaries 
between  them.  Will  not  these 
evils  increase  as  our  population  be- 
comes more  dense,  unless  means  be 
seasonably  used  to  guard  against 
them  ?  Is  the  difference  which  now 
prevails  between  difierent  states  an 
evil  which  calls  for  remedy  ?  Eve- 
ry good  mason  must  wish  chiefly 
for  the  harmony  of  the  general  in- 
stitution :  for  the  society  is  so  form- 
ed, that  no  particular  part,  however 
meritorious  by  itself,  can  continue 
to  prosper,  if  the  body  at  large  is 
brought  into  disgrace.  Is  the  ma- 
sonry of  our  country  at  present  a 
great  arch  without  a  key  stone  ?  Is 
it  not  in  dan^  of  faUing  ?  Are  not 
many  of  the  hooks  which  are  pub- 
lished in  the  name  of  the  masonic 
institution,  derogatory  to  its  charac^ 
ter  and  interest  ? 

It  is  not  the  design  of  the  com- 
mittee to  enter  into  arguments  upon 
this  subject ;  nor  to  lay  down  tneu* 
own  opinions  as  a  guide  for  those 
better  able  to  judge;  but  to  proceed 
to  the  only  duty  required  of  them  to 
perform. 

Accorduig  to  the  preceding  reso- 
lutions, the  committee  are  to  submit 
the  question,  whether  it  be  expedi- 
ent that  a  grand  lodge  of  the  Uni- 
ted States  be  formed ;  and,  secondly, 
to  request  those  grand  lodges  which 
approve  that  object,  to  appoint  del- 
egates to  meet  at  Washington,  oa 
the  second  Monday  of  February 
next,  to  take  such  measures  as  may 
be  deemed  most  proper  for  the  or- 
Jjanization  of  such  general  grand 
lodge. 


IIA80NIC.  79 

It  is  requested  that  this  letter  may 
not  be  published  in  newspapers ;  but 
submitted  to  the  several  grand  lodg* 
es,  and  distributed  among  masons, 
as  a  subject  concerning  the  affairs 
of  then*  own  body. 

If  the  information  furnished  to  the 
committee  should  render  it  expedi** 
ent,  perhaps  another  letter  may  be 
forwarded,  giving  a  statement  of 
such  facts  as  may  be  interesting  to 
be  known,  previous  to  a  final  decis* 
ion  on  the  course  to  be  taken. 

An  answer  is  requested,  with  a 
free  expression  of  opinion  on  the 
subject  of  this  communication. 
Such  answer  may  be  directed  to  any 
member  of  the  committee,  or,  ia 
particular,  to  William  W.  Seaton^ 
Esq.  Washington. 

HENRY  CLAY, 
WILLIAM  H.  WINDER,. 
WILLIAM  S.  CAHDELL,. 
JOEL  ABBOT, 
JOHN  HOLMES, 
HENRY  BALDWIN^ 
JOHN  H.  EATON, 
WILLIAM  W  SEATON, 
CHRISTOPHER  RAKKIN, 
THOMAS  R.  ROSS^ 
H.  G.  BURTON. 


Since  the  above  was  prepai*ed,  we 
received  companion  Hunt^s  April 
number  of  the  Masonic  Miscellany^ 
which  contains  the  following  judi- 
cious remarks  on  this  very  important 
subject : 

NATIONAL  GRAND  LOI5gE. 

We  have  long  been  of  opinion, 
that  some  step  ought  to  be  taken,  to 
produce  a  uniformity  of  work,  and  a 
union  of  feeling  apfiongthe  masonic 
lodges  throughout  the  United  States. 
The  fact  cannot  be  deMied,  and  need 
not  be  concealed,  that  a  difference, 
in  details  at  least,  if  not  in  essentials, 
is  often  to  be  found  in  the  workings 
of  different  lodges.    It  is  time  that 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


80  MASONIC. 

a  grater  degree  of  uniformity  waa 
introduced  :  it  is  time  that  less  jeal- 
ousy existed  in  different  parts  of  the 
country,  respecting  tlie  forms  adopt- 
ed in  their  respective  lodges.  We 
are  all  brethren  of  the  same  frater- 
nity :  if  errors  have  in  any  instance 
<arept  in  among  us,  we  ought  to  be 
willing  to  listen  to  tliose  who  are 
able  and  willing  to  expose  them  to 
lis,  and. teach  us  bow  to  correct 
them.  We  ought  to  be  anxious  to 
adopt  a  uniform,  connect,  and  sys- 
tematic mode  of  work,  and  not  be 
so  bUndly  devoted  to  oiir  own  hab- 
its, as  to  mistake  the  errors  and  de- 
fects which  have  prevailed  among 
lis  for  ancient  and  essential  land- 
marks of  the  order.  We  know  no 
measure  so  well  calculated  to  pro- 
mote the  important  object  to  which 
we  have  alluded,  and  to  cement  the 
fraternity  throughout  this  extensive 
republic,  as  the  establishment  of  a 
common  head,  to  which  all  might 
appeal  and  acloiowledge  a  common 
-responsibility.  The  practicability 
and  usefulness  of  such  an  institution 
has  been  proved,  by  the  successful 
establishment  and  favourable  ten- 
dency of  the  genei'al  grand  royal 
arch  chapter,  whose  jurisdiction  is 
co-extensive  with  the  union.  We 
are  aware  that  efforts  have  been 
made  to  establish  a  general  grand 
lodge,  and  that  various  obstacles  and 
imj^iments  have  hitherto  render- 
ed those  efforts  ineffectual.  But 
we  would  not  be  thus  easily  discour- 
aged. "  Time,  patience,  and  per- 
severance, may  accomplish  all 
things.''  A  national  grand  lodge 
may  and  ought  to  *be  established, 
and  whatever  opposition  may  now 
be  made  to  it,  we  are  confident  that 
when  once  it  should  be  placed  in 
successful  operation,  its  utility  and 
propriety  would  be  universally  ad- 
mitted. 

It  i»s  hardly  necessaiy  at  present 
to  enter  into  the  details  of  the  plan 
we  would  recommend.  The  con- 
stitiiiiuii  of  the  general  grand  chap- 


ter might  serve  as  a  model.  The 
four  principal  officers  of  the  grand 
lodge  of  each  state,  or  their  proxies, 
should  constitute  the  members  of 
the  general  grand  lodge,  and  its 
meetings  might  be  held  in  Wash- 
ington city,  or  some  other  central 
and  convenient  place,  as  often  « 
might  be  deemed  expedient 

We  throw  out  these  hints  for  dw 
dehberate  consideration  of  oar  breth- 
ren throughout  the  union,  and  wc 
hope  tliat  every  prejudice,  local 
jealousy,  and  illiberal  feeling,  if  any 
such  can  have  a  place  in  the  breast 
of  masons,  will  be  dissipated  and  no 
longer  furnish  impediments  to  the 
adoption  of  a  measure,  fraught,  as 
we  believe,  with  the  most  fortunate 
results,  and  calculated,  more,  per- 
haps, than  any  other,  to  promote 
the  permanent  prosperity  of  the 
craft  m  these  United  States. 


At  a  late  meetmg  of  Mount  Ver- 
non   Encampment^   Worthingt«n, 
Ohio,   the  following  officers  vere 
elected  for  the  present  year : 
M.E.Sur  John  Snow,  grand  com- 
mander. 
E.  Sur  Benj.  Gardiner,  general- 
issimo. 
Sir  William   Little,  captain 
general. 
Rev.  Sir  Joseph  S.  Hughs,  prelate. 
Sir  Pardon    Sprague,  senior 

warden 
Sir  Anthony    P.   Pritchird, 

junior  warden. 
Sir  Daniel  Upson,  treasuitr. 
Sir  Caleb  Howard,  recordtf. 
•  Sir  Erastus     Webb,    sword 

Sir  Timothy  Baker,  standard 

bearer. 
Sir  Chauncey  Baker,  warder. 

Sir  Joseph  Grier,  guard. 


SAMUEL  REYNOLDS, 

PfiIP»(T3EB. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


THE 

AMERICAN 


AITD 


Ladies'  and  Gentlemen's  Magazine. 


BY  LUTHER  PRATT- 


♦*  With  the  exception  of  Christianity,  I  know  of  no  other  institution,  in  whicTi 
benevolence  so  pure,  and  philanthropy  so  disinterested,  are  taught  in  obedi- 
ence to  the  command  of  God ;  nor  where,  but  in  the  gospel,  the  social  and  moral 
Katies  are  enforced  by  such  awful  sanctions  as  in  the  lodges  of  the  brotherhood." 

Rev.  Dr.  Dalcbo. 


[No.  ni.]    FOR  NOVEMBER,  A.  D.  1822.  A.  L.  5822..  [Vol.  II.] 


MASONIC* 

For  thc  Masonic  Rcgistek. 

CHRISTIAN  MASON. 

NO.  VII. 

IT  COUP  ANION  SAMUIL  WOODWORTH. 

The  small  degree  of  eoodness  and 

ath  which  is  fust  implanted  in  the 
nd  of  an  awakened  penitent,  may 
be  very  aptly  compared  to  "  a  grain 
of  mustard-seed/'  which,  from  be- 
ing "  the  least  of  all  the  seeds,'*  will 
gradually  and  imperceptibly  grow 
and  increase,  until  it  becomes  large 
enough  for  "  the  fowls  of  the  air  to 
lodge  in  its  branches."  For  as  the 
earth  bringeth  forth  fruit  by  a  gradu- 
aiprocessy "  first  the  blade,  then  the 
ear,  then  the  full  corn  in  the  ear,'' 
so  does  the  human  mind,  by  a  cor- 
responding process,  gradually  and 
alnoost  imperceptibly  advance  in  the 
life  of  rehgion,  untU  the  whole  man 
becomes  regenerated — until  the 
whole  lump  becomes  leavened. 

Among  enlightened  masons,  these 
diflbreht  degrees  of  goodness  and 

•     VOL.  11.  1 1 


truth  in  the  mind,  and  their  fruits  in 
the  life  and  conduct,  are  compared 
to  a  great  variety  of  objects  whose 
nature  and  quality  are  calculated  to 
illustrate  them.  Thus,  for  instance, 
they  are  sometimes  compared  to  the 
six  days  of  creation  ;  sometimes  to 
the  six  working  days  of  tJie  week ; 
and  at  other  times  to  six  ascending 
stepSy  leading  to  the  seventh^  or  land- 
ing. In  short,  there  are  numerous 
objects  in  the  animal,  vegetable,  and 
mineral  kingdoms,  to  which  masons 
resort  for  such  comparisons  and  il- 
lustrations— and,  among  others,  the 
different  qualities  of  metals^  in  as- 
cending from  the  basest  and  lowest, 
to  the  purest  and  highest  in  value, 
must  not  pass  unnoticed.  The  rise 
and  progress  of  religion  in  the  soul, 
is  oflen  thus  illustrated  in  the  holy 
scriptures  on  which  our  mystic  insti- 
tution is  founded  5  as  where  it  is  said, 
in  Isaiah,  "  For  brass,  I  will  bring 
gold;  and  for  iron,  I  will  bring  sil- 
ver; and  for  wood,  brass  5  and  for 
stones,  iron :  I  will  also  make  thy 
officers  peace,  and  thine  exactors 
righteousness.^^  "  Thou  shalt  call 
thy  walls  salyg^gj^^d  thy  gate 


82 


MASONIC. 


praise.^'*  In  tli is  passage, goldy  bras9, 
and  wood,  have  a  mutual  correspon- 
dence, and  signify  different  degrees 
of  goodness,  or  affections  appertain- 
ing to  the  luiinan  will ;  and  siiver, 
iron,  and  Honr^  have  also  a  mutual 
correspondence,  signifying  different 
degrees  of  spiritual  knowledge  or 
truth,  appertaining  to  the  human 
understanding. 

When  tlie  industrious  and  faithful 
fellow-craft,  has  wrought  a  due  sea- 
son in  Bione  and  wood^  and  become 
an  expert  "  artificer  in  iron  and 
brass  J- 'i  he  is  considered  worthy  to 
be  advanced  another  step  on  the 
pavement  of  the  right-angled  oblong 
square  which  forms  the  outer  court 
of  the  temple.  After  being  dul^ 
prepm-edj  therefore,  by  a  necessary 
state  of  humiliation,  he  is  conducted 
forward  to  the  altar^  and  submits  to 
a  purifj/ing  process,  of  which  a  par- 
ticular description  would  here  be  im- 
proper. 

So  it  is  with  the  spiritual  mason 
in  the  mysterious  process  of  his  in- 
ternal purification.  When  his  per- 
verted understanding  and  polluted 
will,  have  become  so  far  reduced  to 
order  as  to  be  receptive  of  the  least 
degree  of  truth  and  goodness,  he  is 
tlien  led  forward  by  the  Lord,  to 
be  washed  in  the  purifying  lavers  oi 
temptation,  preparatory  to  the  great 
sacrifice  he  is  about  to  offer  on  the 
brazen  altar  of  repentance.  This 
is  perhaps  the  most  tr>ir.gand  awful 
.  period  in  the  pilgrim's  journey  "  from 
death  unto  life,^'  and  is,  consequent- 
ly, the  first  one  which  produces  any 
works  or  fruits  worthy  of  repentance. 
But  even  these  are  as  yet  inanimate ; 
for  the  third  day  of  creation,  we  read, 
produced  no  living  animal^  but  only 
"  the  tender  herb,  and  the  tree  bear- 
ingfruit." 

The  sacrifice  which  tlie  spiritual 
mason  is  now  called  upon  to  make, 
is  no  less  than  that  of  his  natural 
life  f  I  do  not  mean  the  animal  life 

•  Isaiah  ir,  17, 18.    t  Gen.  iv,  22. 


of  the  corporeal  body,  but  a  life 
which  is  still  more  dear  to  him — the 
life  of  bis  sensual  affections  and  pol- 
luted thoughts;  his  self-love,  love  of 
the  world,  love  of  dominion,  pride^ 
bigotry,  covetousiiess--every  thing, 
in  short,  that  tends  to  render  him  an 
unfit  "  tempk  of  the  living  God." 
The  infernal  spirit^,  who  had  here- 
tofore tempted  him  through  the  me- 
dium of  these  unhallowed  affections 
and  thoughts,  are  now  aware  that 
their  dominions  over  him  is  about 
to  be  destroyed  by  the  sacrifice 
of  these  avenues  of  communica- 
tion. They  therefore  redouble 
their  assaults,  and  make  die  most 
desperate  attempts  to  reduce  him 
to  a  level  with  themselves,  by 
robbing  him  of  the  divine  woiii> 
which  the  Lord  has  sown  in  his  un- 
derstanding. In  this  state  of  temp- 
tation, as  in  all  others,  the  Lord 
fights  for  him;  and  though  the  natu- 
ral man  is  slain  in  tlie  contest,  the 
spiritual  man  is  raised  in  triumph. 
to  the  confusion  and  destruction  of 
his  former  enemies. 

Now  arises  the  third  bright  morn- 
ing of  his  new  creation,  after  an 
evening  of  temptation,  darkness,  and 
distress.  The  good  seed  which  has 
been  sown  in  his  mind,  from  the 
storehouse  of  the  Word  of  God,  be- 
gins to  spring  up ;  the  ground  is 
clotlied  with  verdure,  and  brings 
forth  "  the  tender  herb  5  the  herb 
yielding  seed  after  his  kind,  and  the 
tree  yielding  fruit,  whose  seed  is  in 
itself  after  his  kind."  One  good 
action  begets  another,  as  if  it  had 
seed  within  itself. 

In  this  early  state  of  regeneration. 
the  penitent  person  f  fiom  an  interna] 
impulse)  begins  to  aiscourse  piously 
and  devoutly,  and  to  perform  what 
he  considers  good  works;  butwhich| , 
as  before  stated,  are  inanimate^  be- 
cause he  supposes  that  the  truths  he 
speaks,  and  the  good  actions  he  per- 
forms, originate  in  himself;  where- 
as the  real  case  is,  that  all  goodness, 
and  all  trutli  are  from  the  Lojrd  aioae. 

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which  will  be  perceived  and  ac- 
knowledged in  a  subsequent  stage 
of  the  regenerate  lifb.  But  however 
huitible,  low,  and  imperfect^  are 
these  first  fruits  of  repentance,  they 
are  still  graciously  accepted  by  our 
beneficent  Creator,  whose  conde- 
scending and  encouraging  mercy, 
deigns  to  pronounce  them  good. 
^<  Aiid  the  Lord  saw  that  it  was 
good.  And  the  evening  was,  and 
5ie  morning  was,  the  third  day.^^ 

A  master-mason's  lodge  (in  which 
are  conferred  and  received  only  the 
three  first  degrees)  is  the  outer  court 
of  the  mystic  temple,  of  which  a 
royal  arch  chapter  is  the  sofictuary, 
separated  by  a  veil  from  the  sanc- 
tum sanctorum.  On  attending  to 
the  description  of  Solomon's  temple, 
in  the  first  book  of  Kings,  it  will  be 
found  that  the  materials,  ornaments, 
and  furniture  of  the  outer  com^y 
were  all  of  stone,  woody  and  brass  ; 
while  those  of  the  sanctuary  were 
either  of  solid  gold  and  silver y  or  of 
other  materials  thickly  overlaid  and 
covered  with  those  precious  metals. 

The  lessons  of  instruction  which 
enlightened  masons  derive  from  the 
contemplation  of  these  facts,  are 
many  and  important.  We  are  here- 
by instructed  not  to  rest  contented 
with  those  small  attainments  in  re- 
ligion which  have  within  them 
scarcely  any  spiritual  Ufcy  but  to 
press  forward  in  pursuit  of  higher 
and  more  useful  acquiremenu.  We 
are  tau^t  not  to  be  satisfied  with 
iron  and  hrassy  when  siher  and  gold 
are  within  our  reach ;  not  to  remain 
in  the  jwwcA  of  the  tempky  when  we 
have  the  privilege  of  entering  the 
sanctuary,  and  enjoying  all  its  sub- 
lime and  edifying  delights.  It  is 
true  that  the  children  oTKeuben  and 
Gad  chose  to  take  up  their  residence 
on  "  this  side  Jordan ;"  but  they* 
first  crossed  over  and  valiantly  as- 
sisted their  brethren  to  conquer  tlieir 
common  enemies,  and  drive  them 
firom  the  Promised  Land.  We 
must  also  ^^  fight  the  good  fight  of; 


faith,"  and  reduce  our  spiritual  foes 
to  subjection  and  tribute.  If  ever 
we  become  subjects  of  the  kingdom 
of  Heaven,  (which  is  our  promised 
land)  we  shall  find  it  within  us  ;  but 
we  can  never  possess  or  enjoy  its 
blessings,  until  we  have  first  fought, 
conquered,  and  subdued  the  numer- 
ous enemies  which  infest  it  I  al- 
lude to  our  unruly  passions,  vicious 
propensities,  and  evil  habits.  These 
are  the  Canaanites,  Jebusites,  &c. ; 
which  we  must  drive  out  of  our  bo- 
soms ^'  by  little  and  little." 

In  masonry,  an  entered  apprentice 
bears  burdens  of  rough  and  sliape- 
less  stones ;  VLfcUow- craft  smooths, 
shapes,  and  fits  them  for  use ;  a  mas* 
ter-mason  arranges  them  in  their 
proper  situations,  and  cements  them 
together  for  the  foundation  or  walls 
of  the  edifice  he  is  employed  to  erect. 
The  principal  working-tool  of  a 
master-mason  is,  consequently,  the 
trowely  the  use  of  which  is  ingeni- 
ously explained  to  all  who  receive 
the  third  degree. 

But  the  truly  enlightened  mason, 
who  looks  deeper  than  the  mere  sur- 
face of  things,  readily  perceives 
that  a  much  more  important  and 
edifying  signification  is  involved  in 
this  section  of  the  lecture.  He 
learns  fi-ora  it,  that  every  sincere 
penitient,  who  has  advanced  tlius 
far  in  the  regenerate  life,  is  indus- 
triously employed  in  reducing  to  an 
orderly  arrangement  the  various 
truths  derived  from  the  Word  of 
God,  which  he  unites  and  cements 
together  as  the  tenets,  doctrines,  or 
ibundation-stones  of  his  spiritual 
temple.  He  also  perceives  the  ne- 
cessity of  being  careful  that  such 
doctrines  are  all  genuine  truths — 
that  these  apparent  stonesy  are  not 
artificial — that  they  are  not  formed 
of  clay,  hardened  ui  the  fire  of  his 
own  lusts  and  concupisences.  He 
feeb  the  importance  also,  of  their 
being  joined  together  with  the  hea- 
venly cement  of  love  and  charity, 
and  not  wUh  the  tmtempered  mortar 

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MAsomc 


of  his  own  cormpt  affections.  He 
remembers  the  ancient  masons  of 
Babel,  who  had  "  brick  for  stone, 
and  9lime  for  mortar  J^  They  began 
to  frame  doctrines  fbr  themselves, 
not  founded  in  truth,  but  accommo- 
datiNl  to  favour  and  justify  the  indul- 
gence of  their  own  fiery  lusts  and 
passions,  which  in  the  beautiful  lan- 
guage of  inspiration  is  signified  by 
burmnsr  hrichf.  They  persuaded 
themselves  and  each  other  to  believe 
that  which  was  false,  in  order  that 
they  might  escape  the  scorpion  lash 
of  conscience.  They  wished  "  to 
build  a  city  and  a  tower  whose  top 
might  reach  to  heaven,"  in  order  to 
make  themselves  a  name;  but  in- 
'  stead  of  erecting  it  of  stone  and  mor- 
tar,  they  substituted  brick  and  bitu- 
men.  In  other  words,  instead  of 
founding  their  doctr'mes  on  truth, 
and  confirming  them  by  a  life  of, 
goodness :  they  fVaxned  them  in  er~ 
rnr,  shaped  them  to  suit  their  own 
defiled  propensities,  and  stuck  them 
together  with  the  slime  and  pitch  of 
iniquity.  And  what  was  the  awful 
consequence?  Division,  confusion, 
judgment,  and  final  dispersion,  were 
the  necessary  result  of  these  impi- 
ous labours,  and  <^  the  builders  of 
Babel  were  scattered  abroad.^' 

In  contemplating  this  instructive 
picture,  the  spiritual  mason  is  taught 
to  take  warning  by  their  example, 
and  to  draw  the  materials  for  build- 
ing his  temple  from  the  inexhausti- 
ble stock  prepared  ih  the  Holy 
Word.  Thus,  if  he  hears  the  words 
of  the  Lord,  and  lives  a  life  con- 
formable therewith,  he  will,  like  & 
wise  man,  build  his  house  upon  a 
rock  ;  and  though  the  rains  descend, 
and  the  floods  come,  and  the  winds 
blow,  and  beat  upon  that  house,  it 
cannot  fall,  for  it  is  founded  on  a 
rock. 

Thus  WORKS  of  pious  zeal 
From  true  repentance  flow, 

And  the  hew  man  exults  to  feel 
A  Heaven  began  below. 


FOft  TB«  MASOmc  RSGI8TBJI« 

SUBLIME  MASONRY. 
CoMP ANION  Pratt, 

It  is  well  known  that  there  are 
many  masonic  degrees  which  nek 
above  that  of  royal  arch,  oonmaon- 
[y  called  ^  the  sublime  degrees^*' 
But  the  information  respecting  theoi, 
which  some  of  our  br^hren  possess, 
(unless  it  be  in  the  vicinity  c^ places 
where  they  are  regularly  conferred) 
is  very  imperfect  and  mcorrecL 
This  is  in  part  owing  to  the  informal 
manner  in  which  many  of  them  are 
conferred,  and  to  the  circumstance 
of  their  being  given  not  only  in  diA 
ferent  ways,  but  under  difleran  ap- 
pellations. 

A  work  illustrating  the  sublime 
degrees,  would  doubtless  go  a  great 
way  to  correct  this  evfl  ;  for  it »  a 
position  which  will  be  readily  ao 
ceded  to  by  every  brother  at  all 
conversant  with  the  subject,  that  the 
several  treatises  written  on  the  seven 
first  degrees,  have  contributed  in  no 
small  measure  to  promote  umfonm^ 
ty  of  work  in  masters'  lodges,  and 
royal  arch  chapters.  I  am  not  aware 
that  a  work  of  this  kind  is  now  be* 
fore  the  pubUc.  We  find  indeed 
illustrations  of  the  degrees  of  royal 
master,  and  select  master,  in  lMX>ther 
Cross'  Masonic  Chart,  and  of  the 
eleven  ineffable  degrees,  in  brother 
Webb's  Masonic  Monitor.  Several 
of  the  orders  of  knighthood  ha^ie 
also  been  illustrated  by  these  two 
excellent  authors,  but  no  account  of 
the  other  degrees  to  which  we  allade, 
although  more  than  twen^  in  num- 
ber, has  ever  yet  been  published. 
It  i»  true  that  all  of  them  are  not 
equally  replete  with  interest,  and 
cannot  perhaps  claim  an  origin 
equally  remote ;  yetsince  they  are  fai 
Tact  masonic  degrees,  and  given  un- 
der the  sanction  of  masonic  assem- 
blies, they  cannot  be  deemed  oi- 
worthy  the  attention  of  the  mem- 
bers of  the  craft,  to  whatever  degree 
they  may  have  been  advanced. 

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MASONIC. 


85 


The  object  of  tMs  communica- 
tion, is  to  elicit  from  such  of  your 
correspondents  as  may  feel  disposed 
to  contribute^  as  much  information 
on  the  sublime  degrees,  as  the  na- 
ture of  the  sul^ect,  and  masonic  se- 
crecy will  permit.  The  information 
required  may  be  referred  to  all,  or 
some  of  the  following  heads ;  to  wit. 
Form  of  lodge ;  decorations  of  oflS- 
cers  and  members ;  how  opened  and 
closed;  qualifications  of  candidates; 
charges,  &c.;  history  of  the  de- 
grees and  texts  of  scripture  tending 
to  illustrate  the  same;  working 
tools,  emblems,  &c.  Since  you 
have  on  one  occasion  signified  your 
intention  to  render  your  Register  a 
general  repository  of  masonic 
knowledge,  I  doubt  not  that  you 
will  admit  into  its  useful  columns 
any  approved  communications  you 
may  receive  on  this  subject.  I  would 
suggest  the  propriety  of  treating  the 
degrees  in  the  following  order. 

I.  Ineffable  Mfuonr^y  comprising 
first,  the  Royal  Master's  degree. 
Second,  the  Inefiable  degrees,  prop- 
erly so  called :  viz»  1.  Secret  Mas- 
ter. 2.  Perfect  Master.  3.  Inti- 
mate Secretary.  4.  Provost  and 
Judge.  5.  Intendant  of  the  Build- 
ings, or  Master  in  Israel.  6.  Elect- 
ed Knights.  7*  Elected  Grand  Mas- 
ter, or  Illustrious  elected  of  Fifteen. 
8.  Illustrious  Knights,  or  SubUme 
Knights  elected.  9-  Grand  Master 
Architects.  10.  Knights  of  the 
Ninth  or  Royal  Arch.  11.  Perfec- 
tion,  or  Grand,  Elect,  Perfect,  and 
Sublime  Mason.  Third,  Detached 
degrees,  intimately  connected  with 
the  foregoing,  e.  g.  Grand  Patriarch, 
Select  Master,  Most  Excellent  Royal 
Arch,  &c. 

n.  The  Orders  of  Knighthood; 
e.  g.  Knight  of  the  R^  Cross, 
Knight  Templar,  and  Knight  of 
Malta,  as  conferred  by  the  Grand 
Encampment  of  the  United  States ; 
Knight  of  the  Mediterranean  Pass; 
Knight  of  the  Christian  Mark; 
Knight  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  &c. 


III.  Degrees  conferred  by  the 
Council  of  Princes  of  Jerusalem^ 
viz.  Knight  of  the  East,  and  Prince 
of  Jerusalem. 

IV.  Degrees  conferred  by  the 
Sovereign  Grand  Inspectors  Gene- 
ral; e.  g.  Knight  of  the  East  and 
West,  &c.  &c. 

V.  Detached  Degrees ;  e.g.  Ori- 
ental Chieftain,  Ark  and  Dove,  &c- 

The  writer  of  this  article,  though 
perhaps  not  qualified  to  do  that  jus- 
tice to  them  they  may  merit,  pur- 
poses however,  fVom  time  to  time, 
to  send  for  insertion,  illustrations  of 
numy  of  these  degrees. 

GILES  F.  YATES. 
Schenectady,  August  31, 1822. 

I.    INEFFABLE  MASONRY. 
First — Royal  Masters'  Degrek. 
This  Lodge  is  called  a  Council 
of  Royal  Masters,  and  its  meetings  • 
are  called  Convocations. 
Officers. 

1.  The  fu^t  officer  represents  So- 
lomon King  of  Israel.  He  is  styled 
"  The  Most  lUustrious  Master ^^^  and 
is  seated  on  a  throne  in  the  East. 

2.  The  second  officer  represents 
Hiram  King  of  Tjrre.  He  is  styled 
"  lUustrious  Master,^^  and  is  seated 
on  the  right  hand  of  Solomon. 

3.  The  Senior  Grand  Warden 
stands  in  the  West,  and  represents 
the  noble  Adoniram. 

4.  The  Recordei-y  at  the  foot  of 
the  throne,  on  the  left. 

5.  The  Master  of  the  Exchequer ^ 
at  the  foot  of  the  throne,  on  the  right. 

6.  The  Master  of  the  Guards^  is 
stationed  in  die  West,  on  the  right 

7.  The  Sentinely  in  the  West,  on 
the  left 

The  Brethren  are  termed  "  Asso^ 
date  Guardsy^^  and  the  Council 
Room,  the  "  Sanctuary, ^^ 

The  Council  is  opened  and  closed 
by  2,  and  twice  3. 

This  degree  can  be  conferred  on- 
ly upon  worthy  companions,  who 

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•6 


MAsomc. 


have  received  the  seven  pteeeding 
degrees  in  due  and  regulat  form. 
It  brings  to  light  many  interesting 
particulars  which  serve  to  illustrate 
the  degrees  of  master  and  ro3ral 
arch  mason.  ^^  It  also  enables  us 
with  ease  and  fadUty  to  examine  the 
privileges  of  others  to  this  degree, 
while  at  the  same  time,  it  proves 
ourselves.^ 

AAer  the  sanctuary  is  duly  pre- 
pared^ and  the  council  regularly  or* 
ganized^the  candidate  is  introduced 
m  due  fonviy  and  during  part  of  the 
ceremony  of  initiation,  the  M.  I.  M. 
recites  tne  following  passage  of 
scripture. 

"  And  there  appeared  a  great 
wonder  in  heaven  ;  a  woman  clothed 
with  the  sun,  and  the  moon  under 
her  feet,  and  upon  her  head  a  crown 
of  twelve  stars :  and  she  beinc  with 
child,  cried,  travailing  in  birth,  and 
pained  to  be  delivered.  And  there 
appeared  another  wonder  in  heaven, 
and  behold,  a  great  red  dragon, 
having  seven  heads,  and  ten  horns, 
and  seven  crowns  upon  his  heads. 
And  his  tail  drew  the  third  part  of 
the  stars  of  heaven,  and  did  cast 
them  to  the  earth ;  and  the  dragon 
stood  before  the  woman  which  was 
ready  to  be  delivered,  for  to  devour 
her  child  as  soon  as  it  was  born. 
And  she  brought  forth  a  man-child, 
who  was  to  rule  all  nations  with  a 
rod  of  iron :  and  her  child  was 
caught  up  unto  God,  and  to  bis 
throne.  And  the  woman  fled  into 
the  wilderness,  where  she  hath  a 
place  prepared  of  God,  that  they 
should  feed  her  there  a  thousand  two 
hundred  andf  threescore  days.  And 
there  was  war  in  heaven ;  Michaei 
and  his  angels  fought  against  the 
dragon,  and  the  dragon  fought  and 
his  angels,  and  prevailed  not,  neither 
was  their  place  found  any  more  in 
heaven.  And  the  great  dragon  was 
cast  out,  that  old  serpent  ciUled  the 
devil  and  Satan,  which  deceiveth  the 
whole  world :  he  was  cast  out  into 
the  earth,  and  his  angels  were  cast 


out  with  him.  And  I  heard  a  k>ud 
voice,  saying  in  heaven.  Now  is 
come  salvation,  and  strength,  and 
the  kingdom  of  our  God,  and  ^ 
power  of  his  Christ:  for  the  accuser 
of  our  bredu'en  is  cast  down,  which 
accused  them  before  our  God  day 
and  night.  And  they  overcame  \m 
by  tlte  blood  of  the  Lamb,  and  bj 
the  word  of  their  testimony  f  an4 
they  loved  not  their  lives  unto  the 
death.  Therefore  r^oice  ye  heav- 
ens, and  ye  that  dweU  in  them.  W6 
to  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth,  and 
of  the  sea :  for  thf  devil  \a  come 
down  unto  you,  having  gre^  wrath, 
because  he  knoweth  that  he  hath 
but  a  short  time.  And  when  the 
dragon  saw  that  he  was  cast  unto  the 
earth,he  persecutedthewomanvrhkh 
brought  forth  the  man-cAt^.  And 
to  tlie  woman  were  given  two  wims 
of  a  great  eagle,  that  she  might  fly 
into  the  wilderness,  into  her  place : 
where  she  is  nourished  for  a  time, 
and  times,  and  half  a  time,  from  the 
face  of  the  serpent ''  Rev.  xii,  J— 15. 

The  following  passa^&es  of  scrip- 
ture, &c.  are  considered  to  be  ap- 
propriate to  this  degree. 

^^  And  Solomon  made  all  the  ves- 
sels that  pertained  unto  the  house  of 
the  Lord :  the  altar  of  gold,  and  the 
table  of  gold^  whereupon  die  shew* 
bread  was ;  and  the  candlesticks  of 
pure  gold ;  five  on  the  right  sde, 
and  five  on  the  left,  before  the  ora- 
cle ;  with  the  flowers,  and  the  laroos, 
and  the  tongs  of  gold ;  and  the 
bowls,  and  the  snuflers,  and  the  ba- 
sons, and  the  spoons,  and  the  censers 
of  pure  gold  $  and  the  hinges  of 
gold,  both  for  the  doors  of  the  maer 
house,  the  most  holy  place,  and  for 
the  doors  of  the  house,  to  wit,  of  the 
temple.  So  Hiram  made  an  ead  of 
doing  all  ^e  work  that  ht  had  made 
king  Solomon  for  the  house  of  the 
Lord.''  1  Kings,  vii,  48—50,  and  40. 

"  And  he  set  the  cherubims  with- 
in the  inner  bouse  ^  ahd  they  stretch- 
ed forth  the  wings  of  the  cherubim^ 
so  that  the  wing  of  the  one  louched 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


HASONIC* 


87 


the  one  waD ;  and  the  wing  of  the 
<Hher  cherub  touched  the  o^er  wall ; 
and  their  wings  touched  one  another 
in  the  midst  of  the  house.''  1  Kings, 
ri,  27. 

Between  the  two  cherubims  in  the 
middle  of  the  most  Holy  place  was 
seated  the  Ark  of  the  Covenant^ 
which  was  a  kind  of  chest  or  coffer, 
in  form  an  iAAong  squal^e,  S  feet  9 
inches  long,  2  feet  3  inches  wide, 
and  3  feet  3  inches  higli,  made  of 
shittim  wood,  overlaid  bioth  inside 
and  out  with  pure  gold,  and  encom- 
passed with  a  crown  of  gold.  It 
was  rendered  portable  by  means  of 
staves  of  shittim  wood,  overlaid  with 
g<4d,  which  were  passed  through 
four  golden  rings  at  its  comers.  It 
was  covered  above  with  the  Mercy 
Seaij  made  of  pure  gold ;  at  each 
eod  of  which  were  two  cherubims  of 
beaten  gold,  looking  towards  it  in  a 
posture  of  admiration.  In  this  coP 
f^,  Moses  was  commanded  to  place 
the  two  tables  of  stone,  which  con- 
tained the  ten  commandments.  Be- 
tween the  two  cherubims  the  Sheki' 
nal  or  divine  presence  was  mani^ 
fested  in  the  appearance  of  a  cloud. 
Here  the  Divinity  resided  in  a  pecu^ 
liar  manner^  and  delivered  his  ora- 
cles. Exod.  jpuciy  25  and  37.  1 
Kings,  vi  ch.     2  Chron.  iii  ch.  &c. 

Tnis,  or  a  similar  prayer  may  be 
used  at  closing. 

May  our  hearts  be  united,  and  the 
^^  square  of  friendship''  never  be 
broken.  May  we  ever  be  zealous 
and  courteous,  faithful,  and  faultless, 
ever  uniting  in  one  cause  (the  noble 
duty  of  a  Christian,  and  a  mason)  to 
**  do  justly,  love  mercy,  and  walk 
humbly  with  our  God.''    Amen« 

Cbsed  as  opened. 


Second — The  Ineffable  Deghees. 
The  eleven  ineffable  degrees  are 
founded  on  masonic  events  which 
ivanspir^  at  the  erection  of  the  first 
temple,  flence^  if  we  regard  the 
ordar  of  time,  they  should  be  confer* 


red  before  the  royal  arch  degree, 
and  are,  so  it  would  seem,  in  Charles^ 
ton,  South  Carolina.  Bat  accord- 
ing to  the  mode  of  work  at  present 
pursued  in  the  northern  sates,  none 
but  royal  arch  masons  are  entitled 
to  receive  them. 

Our  knowledge  of  the  master  ma* 
sons'  degree,  cannot  be  complete 
without  some  acquaintance  with 
several  of  them.  Hence  they  re- 
commend themselves  to  the  study 
of  every  brother  who  desires  to  be* 
come  a  proficient  in  the  royal 
art  Companion  Webb  observes 
(though  rather  loosely^  that  there 
is  "  no  part  of  these  aegrees  that 
have  any  resemblance  to  the  seventh 
degree."  Now  it  is  a  fact  well  known 
to  every  professor,  that  the  degree  of 
knight  of  the  ninth  arch  has  an  al* 
lusion  to  several  important  circum« 
stances  intimately  connected  witti 
certain  occurrences,  which  at  tlie 
building  of  the  second  temple  gave 
rise  to  the  royal  arch  degree. 
^*  It  will  clearly  appear  from  the  ac* 
count  given  of  the  ineffable  de- 
grees, that  much  ingenuity  is  dis- 
played in  their  formation ;  that  their 
design  is  noble,  benevolent,  and 
praiseworthy,  and  that  the  Institu- 
tion was  intended  for  the  glory  of 
the  Deity^  and  the  good  of  man- 
kind." 

I  am  not  certified  that  the  ineffa- 
ble degrees  are  conferred  **  ui  for- 
ma" by  any  other  masonic  body  in 
the  United  States,  than  by  the  sub- 
lime grand  lodges  in  Charleston, 
South  Carolina,  in  the  city  of  New- 
York,  in  Newport,  Rhode-Islaud, 
and  by  "  Tito  Lodge  of  Perfection," 
in  the  city  of  Schenectady,  New- 
York. 

1.    Sbcket  Master. 

The  lodg5  of  secret  masters 
should  be  spread  with  black,  and 
enlightened  6y  81  candles,  dis- 
tributed by  9  times  9- 

The  master  represents  Solomon 


S8 


NA80KIC. 


experts.  He  is  styled  "  Mast  Pow- 
trjuV^  He  stands  in  the  East,  with 
a  sceptre  in  hb  hand,  hefore  a  trian- 
gular altar  upon  which  is  a  crown, 
and  some  oUve  and  laurel  leaves. 
He  is  decorated  with  a  blue  ribbon 
iiom  the  right  shoulder  to  the  left 
hip  to  which  is  suspended  a  triangle. 
There  is  only  one  warden,  who 
is  called  Adoniram  after  him  who 
had  the  inspection  of  the  works  at 
Mount  Libanus,  who  was  the  first 
made  secret  master.  He  b  stationed 
in  tlie  West,  and  is  decorated  with  a 
white  ribbon  bordered  with  black,  in 
a  triangular  form ;  an  ivory  key  sus- 

rnded  therefrom  with  a  figure  of 
upon  it. 

All  the  brethren  are  decorated  in 
the  same  manner,  with  white  aprons 
and  gloves ;  the  strings  of  the  aprons 
are  black,  the  flap  is  hhte^  with  a 
golden  eye  upon  it,  and  on  the  area 
may  be  painted  a  triangle  with  the 
letters  J  A  J  thereon. 

This  lodge  is  opened  by  the 
mysterious  number. 

A  candidate  is  strictlv  examined 
in  a  room  adjoining  the  lodge  by 
the  mspector,  who  upon  finding  him 
well  qualified,  vouches  for  his  zeal, 
integrity,  and  good  behaviour,  and 
he  is  then  introduced  in  due  form. 

During  the  first  part  of  the  cere- 
mony, the  M.  P.  addresses  the  can- 
didate thus. 

^'  Brother, 

"  You  have  hitherto  only  seen 
the  thick  veil  that  covers  the  S.  S.  of 
God's  temple  5  your  fidelity,  zeal, 
and  constancy,  have  gained  you  the 
favour  I  now  grant  you,  of  showing 
you  our  treasure,  and  introducing 
you  into  the  secret  place.'' 

He  is  now  invested  with  the  rib- 
bon, the  crown  of  laurel  and  olives, 
and  is  further  informed. 

^  My  Brother, 

"  I  receive  you  as  secret  master, 
and  give  you  rank  among  the  Le- 
vites.  This  laurel,  the  emblem  of 
victory,  is  to  remind  you  of  the  con- 
quest you  are  to  gain  over  your  pas- 


sions. The  olive  is  die  symibolor 
that  peace  and  uniiHi,  which  ought 
to  reign  amongst  us.  It  belongetfa 
to  you  to  deserve  the  favour,  that 
you  may  be  enabled,  one  day,  10 
arrive  in  the  secret  place,  to  con- 
template the  pillar  of  b^uity.  I 
decorate  you  with  the  ivory  key, 
hung  to  a  white  and  black  ribbon,  as 
a  symbol  of  your  fidelity,  innocence, 
and  discretion. 

^  The  apron  and  gloves  are  to  be 
marks  of  the  candour  of  all  S.  M. 
in  the  number  of  which  yoa  have 
deserved  to  be  introduced.  In  this 
quality,  my  brother,  you  are  to  be^ 
come  the  faithful  guardian  of  the 
S.  S.,  and  I  put  you  in  the  number 
of  seven,  to  be  one  of  thecooductois 
of  the  works  which  are  raising  to  the 
Divinity.  The  eye  upon  your  apron 
is  to  remind  you  to  have  a  careful 
watch  over  the  conduct  of  the  craft 
in  general.*' 

The  lodge  u  closed  by  the  n^ste- 
rious  number. 

The  following  are  some  of  the 
emUems  &c.  appertaining  to  tm 
degree ;  the  meaning  of  which  will 
be  readily  understood  by  ev«y  true 
secret  master. 

The  square  and  compass. 

The  laurel  and  olive  tree. 

A  great  circle  m  the  centre  of 
which  is  enclosed  a  blazing  starwith 
5  beams. 

A  blazing  luminary  with  9  beams 
in  which  are  9  words  written  it  Ara- 
bic characters. 

A  circle  surrounding  the  Delta  or 
triangle,  which  is  ei^osed  in  the 
great  curcle. 

The  letter  G,  in  the  centre  of  the 
blasmg  star. 

The  ark  of  aBiance  or  covenanl^ 
the  golden  candlestick  with  seven 
branches,  and  the  table  of  shew- 
bread.  The  aric  of  the  covenant 
has  been  described  in  the  last  de- 
gree. 

The  candlestick  was  made  of 
pure  gold  beaten  out  into  6  branches, 
3  on  each  side.     £ach  bnmch  had 

Digitized  by  VjOOQ IC 


3  bowb,  made  to  resemble  ahnonds, 
with  a  kuop  and  a  flower.  On  the 
shaA  itself  were  4  bowls,  made  like 
almonds,  with  their  knops,'  and  their 
flowers ;  a  knop  under  the  2  lower 
branches,  under  the  2  middle  ones, 
and  under  the  2  upper.  There 
were  7  lamps  on  each  of  the  branch- 
es, and  one  on  the  shad,  which  were 
fed  with  pure  olive  oil.  Exod.  xxv, 
SI — 40,  and  xxvii,  17 — 25. 

The  table  of  sheuhbrecid  was  made 
of  shittim  wood,  overlaid  with  gold, 
imd  had  a  crown  of  gold  round  about. 
It  was  3  feet  in  lengtii,  1  foot  6  inch* 
€8  in  breadth,  and  2  feet  3  inches 
m  height ;  and  had  a  border  of  a 
band  breadth  to  prevent  the  loaves 
ofshew^-bi-ead  from  falling  off  These 
loaves  were  12  hi  number,  6  were 
placed  on  the  right  hand,  and  6  on 
the  left,  forming  two  heaps.  "  And 
the  Lord  said  unto  Moses,  thou  shalt 
set  upon  the  table  the  shew-bread 
before  me  alway."  Exod.  xxv,  23 — 
30,  and  xxxvii,  10 — 18. 

"  The  door  for  the  middle  cham- 
ber Vras  in  the  right  side  oftlie  house; 
and  they  went  up  with  winding  stairs 
into  the  middle  chamber,  and  out  of 
the  middle,  into  the  third."  1  Kings 
yi,  8. 

Closed  by  the  mysterious  number. 

2.     Perfect  Master. 

This  lodge  should  be  hung  with 
green  tapestry,  on  8  columns,  4  on 
each  side,  placed  at  equal  distances. 
It  should  be  illuminated  with  16 
lights,  placed  at  the  4  cardinal 
points.  A  table  before  the  canopy, 
covered  with  black. 

The  R.  W.  and  respectable  mas- 
ter represents  the  noble  Adoniram, 
being  the  first  that  was  made  S.  M., 
because  S.  chose  him  first  of  the  7 
experts  to  command  the  works  oi 
the  temple.  This  he  did  before 
H.  A.  arrived  at  Jerusalem,  and  he 
afterwards  had  the  inspection  of  the 
workmen  at  Mount  Libanus.  He 
occupies  the  place  of  S.  in  the  East, 

VOL.  II.  12 


MASONIC.  89 

under  the  canopy,  and  is  decorated 
with  the  ornaments  described  in  the 
degree  of  perfection,  and  is  a  prince 
of  Jerusalem,  with  those  decorations* 

There  is  only  one  warden,  who 
represents  Stockin  in  the  function  of 
inspector.  He  wears  the  ornaments 
of  his  highest  degrees  which  he  re- 
ceived in  the  West. 

The  assistants,  being  at  least  per« 
feet  masters,  ought  to  be  decorated 
with  a  large  green  ribbon  hung  to 
the  neck,  wi&  a  jewel  suspended 
thereto,  being  a  compass,  extended 
to  60  degrees.  * 

The  brethren  all  have  aprons  of 
white  leather,  with  green  flaps ;  and 
on  the  middle  of  the  apron  must  be 
embroidered  a  square  stone,  sur- 
rounded by  3  circles,  with  the  letter 
P  in  the  centre. 

This  lodge  is  opened  by  4  times  4. 

The  master  of  ceremonies,  after 
examining  a  candidate  as  to  his  pro^ 
ficiency  in  the  pi*eceding  degree, 
regularly  introduces  him  j  and  he  is 
thus  tddressed  by  the  M;P. 

My  Brother, 

It  is  my  desu-e  to  draw  you  from 
your  vicious  life,  and  by  the  favour 
I  have  received  from  the  most  pow- 
erful of  kings,  I  raise  you  to  the  de- 
gree of  perfect  master,  on  condition 
that  you  observe  what  shall  be  pre- 
scribed to  you  by  our  laws. 

After  several  appropriate  ceremo- 
nies, he  is  invested  with  the  secrets 
of  this  degree,  and  is  further  in- 
formed. 

This  degree  was  instituted  as  a 
token  of  respect  to  the  memory  of  a 
departed  worthy  brother.  A  plan 
of  a  superb  monument  and  uni,  was 
given  in,  and  they  were  finished  in 
9  days.  The  urn  was  placed  on  the 
top  of  a  splendid  obelisk,  erected 
near  tlie  west  end  of  the  temple.  In 
it  was  deposited  a  triangular  stone, 
on  which  were  engraved,  the  letters 
i  M  B,  in  Hebrew  characters. 
Emblrms,  ^c. 

A  square  stone  in  the  centre  of  a 
circle,  placed  on  2  columns  across. 


no 


HAhomc^ 


On  the  square  stone  U  engraved  the 
letter  J. 

The  tomb  and  urn  above  referred 
to. 

Two  Egyptian  pyramids. 

The  jewel  of  a  P.  M.  is  a  conipass 
extended  to  60  dej^rees,  which  is  de 
signed  to  teach  him  that  he  should 
measure  his  conduct  by  the  exact 
rule  of  equity. 

Closed  as  opened. 


ON  THE  ADMISSION  OF  UN- 
WORTHY MEMBERS. 
The  following  extract  is  from  the 
Louisville  Sentinel,  in  the  state  of 
Georgia,  and  deserves  the  serious  at- 
tention of  tlie  craft  in  general,  and 
more  particularly  of  those  who  are 
appointed  to  the  highly  important 
office  of  investigating  tlie  characters 
of  candidates  proposed  for  initiation 
or  advancement  in  our  lodgei  and 
chapters.    An  office,  which  we  are 
teluctantly  compelled  to  say,  is  too 
often  filled  with  men  whose  local 
concerns  do  not  allow  them  time  to 
make  sufficient  inquiries,  or  those 
who  are,  in  fact,  stra^igers  to  the  real 
principles  of  the  institution.     For 
it  must  be  confessed,  that  there  are 
too  many  among  m^,  as  well  as  in  the 
Christian  church,  who  are  contented 
with  the  mere  formy  without  using 
the  least  exertions  to  discover  the 
hidden  beauties  of  the  order,  and 
whose  zeal  leads  them  no  further, 
than   to  be  possessed   of  a  name 
among  masons.    It  should  also  serve 
as  a  CAUTION  to  every  individual  of 
the  fipatemity,  never  to  propose  for 
initiation  or  advancement,  any  per- 
son, without  a  particular  knowledge 
of  his  character,  and  satisfactory  evi- 
dence, that  ke  is  moral  out  of  prin- 


cipky  and  that  he  both  loves,  tad 
practises  the  social  duties.  In  short, 
no  person  shoukl  be  proposed  tQl  it 
is  known  that  lie  b  willing  to  sub. 
!»cribe  cheeirfuUy  to  the  *^  requisite 
qualifications  of  a  candidate,"  givea 
in  the  forty-fiwt  page  of  the  first 
volume  of  the  Masonic  Registjss, 
as  well  aa  by  Preston,  Webb,  Cross, 
and  other  masonic  authors. 

BXTBACT. 

The  masonic  society  has  recehr- 
ed  more  iiyury  by  the  imroducooo 
of  strapgers  to  its  principles,  tlian 
from  all  the  derision  the  world  can 
throw  upon  it;  from  sufiering  men 
to  enter  its  sacred  walls,  who  were 
not  fit  materials  for  tl^  edifice,  and 
who  could  not  have  the  working 
tools  of  the  craft  adjusted  to  them. 

Weighing  them  in  Ae  balance, 
they  are  found  wanting;  tbkxl 
must  be  written  upon  them. 

Do  we  put  upon  them  the  twmtf' 
Jour  inch  gauge,  there  is  no  division 
to  be  fouiKl ;  no  part  for  God. 

Bring  the  plumb  Gne  to  such  a 
one;  b^  neither  stands  upright  be- 
fore God  nor  man. 

Lay  upon  him  the  square  of  vk- 
tue;  put  the  mallet  and  engriwer's 
chissel  in  the  hands  of  the  most  skil- 
ful workmen,  there  can  be  no  ap- 
pearance of  the  diamond  found. 

Lay  upon  him  the  level,  and  who 
will  be  willing  to  be  placed  upon  an 
equality  with  one,  who  in  his  ordiiia* 
ry  transactions,  id  a  disgrace  to  hinir 
self? 

Bring  him  upon  the  cirrle  of  umr 
versal  fenevolence,  present  hira  with 
some  of  our  precious jei^cZ*  ;  he  has 
no  eyes  to  see  them,  he  will  cau- 
tiously avoid  them ! 

Point  him  to  the  roondsof  JacoiV 
ladder,  he  cannot  climb  them,  hcay- 
en-bom  charity  is  a  stranger  to  Ills 
bosoiiL 

Attempt  to  make  use  of  the  tram- 
el,  there  b  no  cement  of  brotherly 
love  and  af^^i^^v«ffrle 


Such  materiab  are  totally  unfit 
lor  the  masonic  edifice,  and  ought  to 
be  thrown  over  among  the  rub|>i8h. 
And  now  brethren,  by  reason  of  the 
introduction  of  strangers  among  the 
workmen,  our  ancient  and  honoura- 
ble institution  is  brought  into  disre- 
pute. Let  our  actions  and  morality, 
therefore,  be  such  as  to  silence  the 
tongue  of  slander,  and  blunt  the  dart 
of  envy.  hiram. 

For  the  Masonic  Rcgistsr. 

A  PRAYER, 

Which  may  he  wed  during  the  cere- 

wmnif  of  raising  a  brother  to  the 

sublime  degree  of  master  mason. 

Great  Architect  of  the  universe, 
we  look  to  thee,  ibr  direction  and 
assistance.  Be  thou  our  Kgltt  in 
darkness^  and  our  support  and  de- 
fence in  time  of  trouble  and  danger. 
Interpose  thine  almigh^  shield  to 
ward  off  the  assaults  and  attacks  of 
our  enemieSy  and  uphold  and  comfort 
us  amM  the  trials  and  difficulties  we 
may  be  called  to  endure  while  so- 
journing in  this  dreary  "vale  of 
tears.  *^  Impart  the  fortitude  which 
will  enable  us  without  dismay,  to 
<*  walk  through  the  valley  of  the 
shadow  of  death,"  and  when  evils 
compass  us  about,  when  fear  Is  on 
every  side,  and  dangers  threaten  to 
overwhelm  and  min  us,  to  pursue 
the  path  of  duty  with  firmness  and 
decision,  and  never  betray  our  trust. 
May  we  be  impressed  with  a  due- 
sense  of  our  own  weakness  and  frail- 
ty^  and  realize  that  we  are  in  mo- 
mentary danger  of  being  cut  down, 
and  levelled  with  the  dust ;  and  al- 
though now  full  of  life  and  vigour, 
and  our  *«  bones  are  moistened  with 
marrow^  yet  the  hands  of  death 
will  certainly  lay  hold  on  us,  and 
soon,  we  know  riot  how  soon,  the 
fatal  bhw  be  struck,  and  our  bodies 
consigned  to  that "  dark  and  narrow 
house''  prepared  for  all  the  living, 
ind  turn  to  rottenness  and  dust.  Yet 
fee  pleased  to  reofieinber  thy  poor 


MASONIC.  91 

creatures  in  mfercy,  eVen  such  met- 
cy  as  may  relieVe  and  hblp  in  time 
of  need  and  distress^  free  froiti  all 
fears  and  dangers,  and  at  length  ad- 
minister an  entrance  into  the  ^^  Holy 
of  Holies''  above,  there  to  be  forever 
blessed.    Amen. 


For  the  Masonic  Register. 

Tt|^  following  short  address  was 
delivered,  by  W.  P.  M.  John  W. 
PuRDY,  on  his  being  elected  master 
of  Solomon's  lodge.  No.  209,  in  the 
year  5821,  and  is  now  published  by 
the  particular  request  of  a  number 
of  the  bretliren. 

Bemg  elected  to  preside  over  a 
lodge  ckT  free  and  accepted  masons, 
I  shall  endeavour  to  sketch,  in  as 
short  a  manner  as  possible,  the  his- 
tory of  that  mystery,  which  has  been 
handed  down  inviolably,  from  time 
immemorial ;  though  in  the  practice 
of  its  sacred  rites,  it  has  too  often 
been  contaminated. 

In  the  first  creation  of  the  heav- 
ens and  the  earth,  there  is  no  par- 
ticular description  in  the  sacred 
volume  5  but  there  is  enough  how- 
ever, to  substantiate  that  important 
truth,  that  all  things  were  created 
by  an  all-wise  and  Oninipotent  Bc- 
ing.  The  eartli,  subsequent  to  the 
creation,  waA  a  dark  and  shapeless 
mass  of  matter ;  but  every  thing  was 
brought  into  organization  at  the 
sovereign  command  of  that  Almigh* 
ty  Power  who  said,  ^Het  there  be 
light,  and  there  was  light."  Then 
beauty  appeared,  and  the  heavens 
shone  forth  in  splendour.  The  con- 
gregated floods  beneath,  retired  to 
their  beds,  and  the  dry  land  was 
crowned  with  a  rich  profusion  of 
herbage,  fruits,  and  flowers. 

Thus,  by  the  influence  of  the 

Eternal  Spirit,  man    was  created, 

formed  of  the  dust  of  the  earth,  and 

received  the  breath  of  life^  or  in 

lother  words,  inH™r^^g[^me. 


92 


HASOKIC. 


quence  of  whichy  "  taan  became  a 
living  ioul."  The  heavens,  and  the 
earthy  were  finished  in  the  space 
of  six  days,  when  that  ^hich  at 
first  was  no  other  than  a  confused 
chaos,  exhibited  an  exqubite  and 
beautiful  system.  The  adorable 
Architect  himself,  pronounced  it 
very  good,  and  all  the  sons  of  God 
shonted  for  joy.  This  is  emblemat- 
ical of  freemasonry,  because  all  were 
united  in  one  glorious  plan,  ^hich 
made  the  heavens  to  resound  with 
joy. 

We  have  undoubted  proof,  that 
from  the  creation  of  the  world,  free- 
masonry had  its  origin.  It  is  said 
that  masonry  and  geometry  are  sy- 
nonimous  terms,  because  they  show 
the  unison,  and  symmetry  of  parts ; 
which  reminds  us  of  that  great  Archi- 
tect who  forms  the  whole,  and  to 
whom  adoration  is  due.  We  have 
no  reason  to  doubt  but  masonry  had 
its  origin  with  the  creation;  but  it 
has  been  handed  down  in  an  obscure 
manner,  from  that  time  to  the  flood, 
and  we  surely  ought  not  to  doubt, 
but  Noah  had  the  grand  secret  Af- 
ter the  flood,  in  the  dark  ages  of  an- 
tiquity, it  shone  but  faintly ;  but  as 
soon  as  arts  and  sciences  began  to 
flourish,  then  masonry  began  to 
shine  in  its  lustre.  The  good,  and 
flie  great,  acknowledge  this.  We 
find,  that  from  Moses,  and  even  be- 
fore, it  shone  at  times,  in  its  genuine 
light.  In  Grenesis  xiii,  8,  we  find 
that  ^^Abram  said  unto  Lot,  Let 
there  be  no  strife,  I  pray  thee,  be- 
tween me,  and  thee,  and  between 
my  hodmen,  and  thy  herdmen,  for 
we  be  brethren.^  And  in  the  twen- 
ty-fijpt  chapter,  that  "  Abimelech 
and  Abmham  made  a  covenant." 
We  also  find  much  said  on  the  sub- 
ject, from  the  twenty-second  to  the 
twenty-sixth  chapters,  inclusive;  and 
in  the  thirty-first  chapter,  Laban 
says  to  Jacob,  "Now therefore  come 
thou,  let  us  make  a  covenant,  I  and 
thou ;  and  let  it  be  for  a  wimess  be- 
tween me  asd  thee,'' 


Many  more  quotatbns  could  be 
made  of  the  like  nature,  but  I  pass 
on.  ^ 

In  David's  time  many  pledges 
and  covenants  were  made,  but  par- 
ticularly between  David  arid  Jona* 
than,  who  made  a  covenant,  and  I 
conclude  that  no  one  knows  the  con- 
ditions of  that  covenant,  but  a  just, 
free,  and  accepted  mason.  Kmg 
Saul  also  made  covenants  with  Da- 
vid, and  as  oflen  broke  them ;  and 
for  his  unfaithfulness  feH  by  his  own 
sword. 

When  king  Solomon  ascended 
the  throne,  masonry  appeared  in 
greater  beauty,  Hiram  king  of  Tyre 
sent  his  servants  to  king  Solomon, 
for  Hiram  was  ever  a  lover  of  David. 
No  doubt  this  was  to  know  if  he 
should  be  found  worthy,  1  Kings 
V,  12,  "  And  the  Lord  gave  Solo- 
mon wisdom,  as  he  promised  him; 
and  there  was  peace  between  Hiram 
and  Solomon,  and  they  itiade  a 
league  together !"  That  league  is 
handed  to  lis  inviolate,  and  I  wiA 
that  all  who  are  found  worthy  may 
be  steadfast. 

In  the  structure  of  that  great 
building  the  temple,  where  so  many 
workmen  of  everjr  description,  were 
placed  m  such  a  manner  that  bo 
confusion,  not  even  a  hanmier  or 
chissel,  or  any  thing  made  of  iron 
was  heard,  we  are  shown,  that  we^ 
as  masons,  mustendeavour  to  imitate 
those  workmen,  where  so  much  har- 
mony prevailed,  to  cut,  carve,  and 
hew ;  and  likewise  to  bear  burdens 
of  humility,  that  we  may  have  a  part 
in  that  temple,  not  made  with  hands, 
eternal  and  in  the  heavens. 

Freemasonry  harmonises  all  man- 
kind, and  makes  one  equal  with  an- 
other ;  whether  they  be  kings  or 
princes,  Or  even  the  greatest  poten- 
tates on  earth,  they  must  come 
down  to  the  level  with  their  subjects. 
Those  living  in  the  wilds  of  Siberia, 
and  the  wild  Arab,  that  roves  in  the 
deserts  of  Africa,  can  meet  and  hall 
one  another  as  brothers.    The  snoti 

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will  be  sheaAedi  and  tlie  javetin  fall 
to  the  dust.  In  short,  freemasonry 
entertains  the  stranger,  and  sends 
not  the  needy  away  empty.  It  holds 
forth  the  hand  of  relief  to  the  widow, 
and  helps  to  feed  the  fatherless  with 
bread,  and  above  aU,  it  assists  in 
wiping  away  the  tear  of  tjjie  orphan. 

3b  the  Brotheri  of  tkia  Lodge. 

As  you  have  elected  me  to  preside 
over  this  body,  I  accept  the  office 
with  diffidence,  knowing  my  inabili- 
ty to  perform  so  important  a  task ; 
but  I  shall  however,  endeavour  to 
discharge  that  duty,  as  far  as  it  lies 
in  my  power,  hoping  to  receive  your 
g^erous  assistance.  May  we  con- 
duct ourselves,  not  only  as  masons 
io  name,  but  as  masons  in  very  deed ; 
aid  and  assist  each  other  in  passing 
through  this  rugged  path  of  mortali^ 
ty,  not  forgetting,  m  all  cases,  to 
endeavour  to  do  as  we  would  be 
done  by,  so  that  when  we  have  fin- 
ished the  several  parts  assigned  us 
in  this  world,  and  when  we  shall 
leave  this  transitory  life,  we  may 
meet  in  the  bright  regions  of  eternal 
bliss,  and  there  sit  down  in  brotherly 
lov^  singing  praises  to  God,  and  the 
Lamb,  and  to  him  that  sitteth  on  the 
throne,  forever,  and  forever. 

So  mote  it  be. 


MASONIC  ELECTIONS. 

As  in  the  course  of  the  ensuing 
Bu>nth,  a  general  election  is  to  take 
place  among  the  fraternity,  we  pre- 
sume a  few  observations  on  the  sub- 
ject wiU  not  be  unacceptable  to  the 
readers  of  the  Masonic  Register. 

Every  enlightened  mason  will 
wadily  observe  its  great  importance, 
and  consider  the  necessity  of  throw- 
nig  aside  all  personal  prejudices, 
ihould  any  unhappily  exist,  and  of 
cordially  lifting  in  the  selection  of 
those  to  office,  who  are  bestcalcu- 


ttAft«mo«  93 

lated  to  {N'omote  the  interests  of  the 
order,  and  thereby,  the  happiness  of 
the  great  family  of  mankind ;  of 
selecting  Uiose  who  have  made  such 
proficiency  in  the  art  as  to  be  en- 
abled to  discover  its  hidden  beauties, 
and  in  all  respects,  so  to  govern 
themselves  before  the  world,  as  well 
as  in  their  respective  lodges  or  chap^ 
terM,  that  they  shall  not  give  the  lie 
to  their  professions,  and  bring  dis- 
grace on  an  institution  whose  prin- 
ciples ^^  are  as  pure  as  the  drifted 
snow,''  and  whose  practices  have 
done  more  towards  the  amelioration 


of  human  misery,  than  ever  could 
be  boaisted  of  by  the  most  benevolent 
princes  of  the  earth,  or  the  most 
noisy  and  clainorous  professors  of 
republicanism  of  the  present  age. 
Freemasons,  it  must  be  confessed, 
that  too  many  of  us  have  been  In- 
considerate as  to  the  election  of  our 
officers,  as  well  as  too  careless  with 
respect  to  the  characters  of  those 
proposed  for  admission.  Let  us 
therefore,  seriously  consider  before 
we  act ;  let  us  look  forward  to  the 
probable  consequences  of  acting 
prematurely ;  let  us  always  keep  in 
mind  that  the  eyes  of  a  multitude  of 
spectators,  some  of  whom  are  guided 
by  the  most  deep  rooted  prejudices, 
are  upon  us,  and  if  we  elect  those  to 
office,  whose  practices  out  of  doors, 
do  not  coincide  with  the  principles 
taught  within,  and  which  we  public- 
ly profess,  those  who  openly  violate 
the  commands  of  our  Great  Grand 
Waster,  and  hold  m  derision  his  sa- 
cred Word,  tjjwse  who  will  kneel 
before  his  altar,  and  in  a  most  solemn 
manner  charge  a  newly  initiated 
brother,  never  to  make  use  of  His 

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94 


MASOKIC 


namei  but  with  ^  mviebntial 
awe/'  and  in  the  ^ext  hour  profane 
it  themselyeif  we  may  justly  be 
charged  with  hypocrisy.  Let  us  re- 
membery  that  in  electing  the  three 
first  officers  of  our  subordinate 
lodges  and  ehapters,  we  are  not 
only  placing  men  over  us  to  assist  in 
conducting  our  pecuniary  afiairs, 
but  we  are  also  electing  members  of 
our  grand  lodge$y  and  our  grand 
chapieriy  to  whose  lawful  acts  we 
are  all  most  solemnly  bound  to  be 
amenable,  and  on  whom  the  world 
looky  to  discover  the  character  of 
masonry.  In  short,  let  us  remem- 
ber that  all  '^  preferment  among  ma- 
'  sons,"  should  depend  on  "  real  mer- 
it," and  not  on  die  different  situa- 
tions in  which  they  may  be  placed 
in  life ;  that  in  our  lodges,  and  our 
chapters,  the  rich  and  the  poor 
meet  together  upon  a  level,  that 
all  are  amenable  to  the  same  rules 
and  regulations  throughout  the 
world,  and  that  the  works  of  all,  will 
hereafter  be  inspected  by  the  same 
Grand  Overseeh. 

From  the  Mmonic  Miscellany. 
BROTHER  WARD'S  SERMON. 

It  affords  us  much  pleasure  to  be 
enabled  to  lay  before  our  readers 
the  following  excellent  discourse. 
Coming  as  it  does,  from  a  minister 
of  the  gospel,  of  amiable  character, 
and  universally  acknowledged  worth, 
it  will,  no  doubt,  be  received  as  au- 
thority by  those  who  might  consider 
the  praises  of  othen,  not  similarly 
situated,  as  mere  OTe  declamation. 
It  is  a  plain,  uncxaggerated  account 
of  the  masonic  institution,  and  with- 


out shrinking  from  tin  avowal  ^ 
any  facts,  plaoes  the  defence  of  the 
order  on  thd  only  safe  and  proper 
footing.  The  liberality  of  senti- 
ment herein  displayed  b  truly  ma- 
sonic, and  cannot  but  receive  the 
cordial  api^obation  of  eveiy  enliglH 
tened  and  unprejudiced  mind. 

MASONIC  SERMON, 

Delivered  at  the  request  of  the  M^ 
9onic  Fraternity  in  Lexingtom^  on 
the  24M  of  June  J 1823,  being  tU 
Anniversary  of  St.  John  the  Bt^ 
tisty  by  the  Rev.  Brother  Johjc 
Ward. 

LfCt  your  light  so  shine  before  men^ 
that  they  may  see  your  good 
works,  and  glorify  your  iiaither 
who  is  in  Heaven.    MatU  p,  16. 

BaETHEBN  AMD  CoMPAmOfrS, 

When  you  soueht  admission  into 
the  distinguished  fraternity,  to  which 
it  is  your  privilege  and  ^ory  to  be- 
long,  you  were  in  darkness  with  re- 
spect to  many  important  truths;  you 
ftlt  conscious  that  this  was  your  sttu- 
ation,  and  it  was  your  earnest  desire 
to  receive  that  mental  illumination, 
which  masonry  sheds  upon  the  hu- 
man mind ! 

Influenced  by  high,  and  holy  mo* 
tives,  you  were  anxious  for  an  in- 
crease of  knowledge ;  that  as  rational, 
social,  and  accountaJble  beings,  you 
might  be  enabled  to  square  your 
conduct,  in  all  the  various  situations 
of  life,  that  when  you  had  finished 
your  eartiily  labours  vou  might  find 
acceptance  with  the  Omnific  Source 
of  existence,  the  all  knowing  inspec- 
tor, and  equitablejudge  of  human 
actions. 

With  a  becoming  humilinr,  wok 
patient  waiting,  you  knocked  at  the 
door  of  intellectual  and  moral  in- 
struction, and  by  this  proper  de- 
meanour, through  the  condescension 
and  benevolence  of  eoHghtened 
minds;  you  obtained  the  imfortaat 

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|fASONI«. 


95 


ol^ect  of  your  teudable  pursuit, 
iiight,  of  which  you  were  so  desir- 
ous, gradually  shone  brighter  and 
l^Mightar  upQn  your  mindti,  uutil  the 
darkness  in  which  they  ha4  been  in- 
volved, entirely  disappeared.  With 
astonishment  mingled  with  joy^  you 
beheld  iu  native  beauty,  many  truths 
which  had  been  hidden  beh'uid  the 
veil  of  mystery,  m  order  that  none 
but  those  who  would  diligently  em- 
ploy the  ii^eaos,  might  become  par- 
takers of  their  beauties. 

At  the  happy  period  oi  revelation, 
when  your  mindk  were  expanded  by 
Imowledge?  aiHl  your  bosoms  glowed 
with  virtuous  feelings,  it  was  the  be* 
Oevolenl  wish  of  •  your  hearts,  that 
Others,  having  the  sj^me  noble  ca- 
pacities, might  become  partakers  of 
the  distinguished  benefits  which 
brotherly  k)v^  had  eomoiuaicfited 
to  you. 

As  members  of  the  friendly  and 
mystic  baikd,  if  you  have  improved 
your  privileges^  ai>d  sacredly  regai;d- 
ed  the  coniUJenciQ  in  you  'reposed, 

i^ou  are  (he  sons  of  light,  decided 
overs  of  true  wisdotp,  the  friends 
9n<i  patrons  of  inteUeqtuaJl,  and  mor- 
al improvements 
Brethren  and  CompanioHs^ 

As  IB  compUance  with  your  re- 
quest, I  appear  before  you  on  this 
pleasant  occsf^ion,  I  persuade  my- 
self, that  with  your  accustomed 
^omptitude  and  candour,  you  will 
&vour  me  with  a  listening  ear,  and 
a  faithful  heart,  while  I  am  endeav- 
ouring to  enforce  the  responsible  du- 
ty enjoined  in  the  passage  selected 
as  the  motto  of  my  discourse ; 

^^  Let  your  light  so  shine  before 
men,  that  they  may  see  your  good 
works,  and  glorify  your  father  who 
is  in  Heaven." 

This  necessary  and  comprehen- 
sive precept,  was  originally  impart- 
ed to  the  followersof  a  Master,  who, 
hy  his  own  luminous  and  amiable 
example,  exhibited  to  the  world,  a 
perfect  transcript  of  every  virtue 
that  can  adora  a  rational  being,  and 


fit  him  for  higher  scenes  than  earth 
afibrds.  The  instructions  of  Jesus 
were  superior  in  utility  to  those  of 
any  other  teacher  the  world  baa 
known.  They  manifested  the 
soundest  wisdom,  and  tended  to  pro- 
mote the  best  dispositions  of  heart 
and  mind,  in  his  genuine  disciples. 

Love,  pure,  ardent,  and  uncoil 
querc^ble  love  to  the  creatures  his 
own  plastic  hands  had  fonned,  afler 
the  most  perfect  model,  brought  him 
from  the  ineffable  glories  of  the  ce« 
leatial  world,  that  they  might  be  as- 
sisted) and  enabled  to  pass  through 
the  stages  of  a  transient  and  proba- 
tionary existence,  in  a  manner  that 
would  ensure  them  a  triumphani^en* 
trance  into  the  unchangeable  abodes 
of  felicity  and  gloiy. 

J^ethren,  by  the  metaphor  of 
light,  the  Teaiher,  whose  sayings 
we  revere,  intends  human  virtue^ 
which  is  the  light  of  the  moralworld, 
as  yonder  splendid  orb*  in  the  midst 
of  the  firmament,  is  of  the  natural* 
Moral  virtue,  we  glory  in  saying,  is 
the  solid  and  sure  foundation  of  ma- 
sonry ;  the  light  by  which  we  per- 
form the  work,  which  we  believe  will 
be  acjcepted  and  approved  by  the 
Grand  Council  above;  the  firm  ba- 
sis of  our  exhilarating  and  supporting 
hopes  when  we  have  retired  from 
our  earthly  labours,  to  unceasing  re- 
freshment in  the  temple  not  made 
with  hands.  What  therefore  are 
we  to  infer  from  the  precept  before 
us,  but  the  imperious  duty  of  making 
the  most  rigorous  efforts  in  the  cause 
of  virtue?  Our  just  and  benevolent 
deeds  will  shed  a  lustre  upon  our 
character,  and  be  the  happy  means 
of  inducing  others  to  imitate  our 
bright  example.  The  venerable  in- 
stitution of  which  we  are  members, 
was  formed,  and  has  been  maintain- 
ed, through  revoling  ages,  for  the 
express  purpos^f  en%htenmg  the 
world  at  large,  l^he  Vfrtuous  deeds 
of  nuisons,  and  of  enlightening  each 
other  by  simis,  by  tokens,  by  em- 
blems, and  by  words^    Our  svstem 

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96  MASomc. 

of  intelligence,  and  sound  wisdom, 
has  a  language  comprehensive,  ap* 
propriate,  and  pecuhar  to  itself.  By 
our  own  pure  language  we  know  each 
other,  wherever  Providence  allows 
us  to  meet,  and  the  knowledge  which 
reveals  a  brother  or  a  companion,  [ 
has  an  inherent  attraction  of  mutual 
benevolence,  which  is  seldom  to  be 
found  among  the  far  greater  number 
of  those  who  claim  to  be  followers  of 
him  who  bears  nothing  but  compas- 
sion and  good  will  towards  our  race. 

The  masonic  bosom  is  inspired 
with  reverence  and  virtue,  when  we 
contemplate  our  temple  of  unrivalled 
magnificence  and  beauty;  when  we 
vieif  our  jewels,  more  brilliant  and 
precious  than  the  diamond  that  glit- 
ters in  the  crown  of  earthly  majesty ;  I 
when  we  survey  the  m^estic  march 
of  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars  in  their 
orbits :  when  we  inspect  this  earth 
which  we  inhabit  so  full  of  being, 
and  so  abounding  in  wonders;  when 
we  consider  man  in  all  his  capacities 
as  an  intelligent,  social,  moral,  re- 
Kgious,  and  immortal  being;  and 
when  we  open  the  treasure  long  con- 
cealed in  the  Ark,  and  scan  its  ce- 
lestial lessons!  Yes,  companions 
and  brethren,  these  wonderful  works 
of  the  Supreme  Architect,  impress 
us  with  reverential  awe.  "  Holiness 
to  the  Lordy^^  is  the  pervading  senti- 
ment ofour  hearts,  and  we  recognize 
with  exalted  satisfaction,  the  duty  of 
imitating  the  benevolence- which  he 
has  so  astonishingly  displayed  to- 
wards his  rational  creatures. 

By  tliose  who  are  unacquamted 
with  the  principles,  and  motives, 
which  govern  our  conduct  as  ma- 
sons, we  are  injuriously  represented 
as  the  determined  patrons  of  secret 
licentiousness ;  but,  we  know,  that 
every  insinuation  of  this  nature  is 
groundless,  and  we  will  freely  par- 
don the  malice  it^pntains,  since  it 
proceeds  from  iT  pardonable  a 
source,  as  that  of  entire  ignorance. 
\VTioever  undertakes  to  impugn  ma- 
sonry, as  tendusg  to  encourage  im- 


morality in  any  degree,  knows  not 
what  he  affirms,  and  is  guilty  of  ^ 
gross  breach  of  truth,  justice,  and 
chai'ity.  f  hesitate  not  to  declare^ 
in  the  most  unequivocal  teroiSy 
that  the  whole  system  of  masomy, 
rightly  understood,  enforces  the  pre' 
cept  of  Jesus  Christ,  •*  Let  yoar 
light  so  shine  before  men,  diat  they 
may  see  your  good  work%  and  gk>- 
rify  your  father  who  is  in  Heaven.'* 
Masonry  Is  not,  like  our  holy  re- 
ligion, in  danger  of  bemg  reduced  to 
mere  speculation,  or  to  the  dogmas 
of  s^arianism.  It  indeed  encour- 
ages mvestigation,  and  ev«ry  species 
of  ^foental  improvement ;  wit  its  es- 
sence consists  in  good  wMl,  in  aets<^ 
justice  and  beneii<^eBce  towards  men. 
Instituted  for  the- noble  purpose  of 
alleviating  human  sufierings  by  so^ 
stantial  benefits,  it  is  more  liberal  of 
alms  than  of  prayers  for  the  needj, 
of  operative  charity,  than  of  cood 
wishes  towards  those  who  ne€»  as- 
sistance. It  does  not  fail  in  its  re» 
commendation  of  the  sufferer  to  the 
care  and  blessing  of  Heaven,  be- 
cause it  recognises  an  all^eeemgeye, 
an  exuberant  fountain  of  blessings  ; 
but  to  do  good  and  to  conmiunicmte, 
these  it  inculcates,  because  with  such 
sacrifices  God,  the  father  and  friend 
of  our  race,  is,  and  must  be  well 
pleased. 

Masonry  generates  sympathy  im 
the  bosom,  and  urges  us  to  prefer 
human  happiness  to  the  glitter  of 
renown.  Let  not  the  professed  chro- 
tian  be  too  hasty  in  c^isuriag  eith^ 
our  principles  or  our  practice  as  ma- 
sons. We  dare  bring  our  practice, 
in  comparison  with  that  of  the  mem- 
bers of  the  outward  church  in  gene- 
ral, to  the  grand  test  of  evangelical 
morality.  When  have  we  seen  a 
brother  in  need,  and  shut  up  our 
bowels  of  compassion  agamsl  him  ? 
When,  in  a  lodge  capachy,  have  we 
neglected  to  visit  the  fatherless  chil^ 
dren,  or  the  widow  of  a  deceased 
brother,  in  their  affliction  ?  We  are 
accused  of  harbouring  in  our  lodg& 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


and  embrace,  thetinworthy,and  the 
vicious.     We  acknowledge  the  fact, 
and  in  it  we  will  glory.     While  we 
are  slow  to  listen  to  the  discordant 
voice  of  vulgar  report,  we  are  prompt 
to  receive  any  authenticated  infor- 
mation, concerning  the   unworthy 
conduct  of  a  fellow  member.     Bui 
we  pass  no  rash  judgment ;  we  come 
to  no  hasty  decision.     We'  forbear 
and  investigate,  counsel  and  admon- 
ish, faithfully  remind  the  offender 
of  his  errors,  and  strive  to  aid  a 
reformation.     He  who  has  the  spirit 
of  Jesus  Christ  abiding  in  himj^who 
is  actuated  by  the  genuine  influence 
of  our  order,  must  in  his seiious  judg- 
ment prefer  this  deHberate,  calm, 
and  equitable  proceedure,  to  that 
which,  impelled  by  passion  and  preju- 
dice, decides  with  precipitation,  and 
sentences  with  rigour.     What  is  the 
direction  of  the  lenient  and  forbear- 
ing Saviour  to  liis  disciples,  concern- 
ing any  one  that  falls  into  transgres- 
sion ?  Vott  recollect  his  reply  to  Pe- 
ter, when  he  inquii'ed,  ^^  Lord,  how 
oft  shall  my  brother  sin  against  me, 
and  I  forgive  him  ?"    "  I  say  not 
unto  thee  until  seven  times,  but  un- 
til seventy  times  seven."    We  offer 
this  as  our  justification,  when  we  for- 
bear with  an  erring,  and  forgive  a 
repentant  brother.    Prejudice  some- 
times more  than  insinuates,  that  ours, 
if  not  an  anticluristian  society,  is  one 
which  no  godly  person  can  visit  with 
pleasure  or  improvement.    We  have 
never  pretended  that  masonry  is  a 
Christian  institution.     Its  origin  was 
anterior  to  Christianity.     It  cannot, 
therefore,  deny  its  benefits,  without 
a  total  change  of  its  principles,  to 
any  who  acknowledge  the  Supreme 
Architect  of  the  universe.     But  is 
there  any  thing  in  masonry  hostile 
to  evangelical  truth,  or  to  the  prac 
tice  of  those  pleasant  and  ennobling 
duties,  which  Jesus  enjoins  upon  his 
disciples  ?   I  feel  authorized  to  de- 
clare, that  the  greatest  saint  on  earth 
might  become  a  mason,  might  at- 
teiul  a  well  regulated  lodge,  without 
VOL.  II.  *.     13 


MASONIC  Oi 

any  hazard  of  corrupting  his  princi- 
ples, or  of  endangering  his  salvation. 
Before  this  enlightened  and  candid 
audience,  I  feel  little  difhdence  in 
hazarding  the  remark,  that  in  my 
view,  masonry  has  a  tendency  to 
eradicate  sectarian  bigotry  from  the 
mind,  and  to  implant  in  its  stead  a 
catholic  and  tolerant  spirit.  I  very 
much  question,  whether  either  the 
enthusiast,  or  the  bigot,  can  be  an 
adipirer  of  our  system.  Its  atmos- 
phere is  not  suited  to  his  respiration. 
It  has  nothing  congenial  with  the 
narrowness  of  his  views,  nothnig  that 
countenances  many  of  the  dogmas 
of  his  creed.  In  the  lodge,  he  must 
associate  with  men  of  opposite  opin* 
ions,  with  those  who  have  embraced 
different  creeds,  and  with  those  who 
have  embraced  no  creed  at  all.  His 
self-sufficiency  will  prompt  him  to 
say  to  almost  every  one  around  him 
"  stand  by  thyself,  for  I  am  holier 
than  thou." 

Since  I  had  the  privilege  of  ad- 
mission into  the  fraternity,  I  have 
frequently  meditated  upon  the  char- 
acters of  my  Christian  acquaintances 
who  are  masons,  and  to  my  satisfac- 
tion have  found  them  men  of  liberal 
sentiments.  In  order  to  remove  ev- 
ery cause  of  misapprehension,  I  will 
explicitly  state  what  I  understand  by 
a  liberal  Chinstian.  He  is  one,  who, 
sensible  of  his  own  liability  to  err  in 
judgment,  and  fully  aware  of  the 
powerful  influence  of  education  in 
producing  in  different  minds,  differ- 
ent opinions  and  habits  of  specula- 
tion, cherishes  a  conviction,  that  it 
becomes  him  not  to  pass  an  unfa- 
vourable decision  concerning  the  ac- 
tual standing  of  a  brother  in  the  sight 
of  that  all-wise,  just,  and  merciful  Be- 
ing, who  knows  whereof  we  are  made, 
and  is  no  "  respecter  of  persons."  He 
abo  feels  hb  inability  to  weigh  with 
precision,  or  to  laeasure  with  exacti- 
tude, the  extent  of  any  understand- 
ing except  his  own.  He  attempts 
not  to  estimate  the  strength  and  ori- 
srin  of  the  habit  of. reflection  in  9 

*  digitized  by  Google 


MASONIC. 


98 

brother.    He  presumes  oot  to  ap- 
preciate his  merit  or  demerit,  in  the 
use    of  the  talent  of  reason,  witb 
which  he  has  been  entrusted,  so  as 
positively  to  pronounce  the  belief  of 
this  or  that  doctrine  necessary  to  sal- 
vation.     Strange  as  it  may  seen>  to 
the  proud  and  intolci*ant  bi^ot,  the 
Uberal  Christian  beUeves  thut  the 
virtuous  heathen,  who  have  improved 
the  light  which  they  have  received, 
will  be  accepted  with  God  their  father 
and  benefactor  !  Yes,  and  stranger 
still,  he  goes  so  far  as  to  trust,  that 


should  different  persons,  m  conscien- 
tiously examining  the  uispircd  pages. 
come  to  different  conclusions,  e\'en 
upon   the  most   important  points, 
God,  who  alone  knows  their  capaci- 
ties, will  yet  be  merciful  to  those 
who  are  in  error  !  Brethren,  I  have 
thus  given  you  my  views  of  a  very 
delicate,  yet  as  I  conceive,  impor- 
tant subject.     My  sole  design  in  do- 
ing this,  is  to  persuade  you  to  let  the 
light  of  a  liberal  spirit  shine  before 
men,  to  allow  no  seli-sufficient  bigot- 
ed religionists  to  darken  your  minds, 
and  narrow  yom*  hearts,  or  to  lessen 
its  sphere  of  diffusive  charity,  which 
is  the  key-stone  of  our  mystic  arch, 
and  the  cement  of  our  noble  fabric. 
Proud  am  I  to  believe,  that  should 
the  monster  Bigotry,  venture  to  raise 
its  head  in  our  lodges,  it  would  find 
itself  vigorously    assailed,  and   be 
forced  to  retire  with  disgrace.     For 
myself,  I   most  unhesitatingly  de- 
clare, that  should  disputes  upon  the 
pecidiarities  of  different  religious  or- 
ders, ever  find  admission  into  our  sa- 
cred retreats  of  friendship,  and  of 
virtue,  I  would  immediately  with- 
draw myself  from  brethren,  thus 
walking  disorderly.     I  profess  to  be 
a  disciple  of  Jesus  Christ     To  his 
inspired  and  infallible  word,  not  to 
lallible  men,  do  I  look  for  informa- 
tion concerning  his  most  just  and 
holy  will     I  claim  the  right,  as  dear 
■  and  unalienable,  to  serve  and  wor- 
ship him  according  to  the  dictates  of 
my  owii  conscience,  enlightened  by 


his  word  and  sphit.  Maswiry  inter- 
feres not  with  this  sacred  *nd  inesu- 
raable  privilege  granted  to  tboie 
whomChrist  has  made  free.  It  bears 
tio  hostUity  towards  Jesus  of  Na»a- 
leth,  the  unrivalled  teacher  sent 
from  God,  the  glorious  pattern  of 
every  excellence,  the  spontaneow 
advocate  of  guilty  men,  the  mighty 
Prince  of  salvation.,  I  fonake  n^ 
the  latter  more  glorious  house,  !»- 
cause  I  enter  and  contemplate  the 
sublunity  of  the  former.  1  behaW 
with  gratitude  and  joy,thewomlcr- 
working,  and  beneficent  hand  of 
Deity,  in  the  ark  of  tlie  covenwit,  ifl 
the  pot  of  manna,  in  therodthtf 
budded,  m  the  book  ofthetesti^ 
ny ,  and  m  the  incense  that  ascenM 
an  acceptaWe  ofiering  before  the 
merciful  throne  above.  I  percei^ 
the  same  hand  m  the  wisdomunpart- 
ed  to  our  grand  masters,  who  were 
enabled  to  construct  an  edifice,  sur- 
passing human  skUl,  and  contnbu^ 
to  the  glory  of  our  common  fewer, 
who  is  in  Heaven  1 

But,  nottodwellupontbereligjws 

sentiments  encouraged  by  our  on^ 
I  value  it  highly  on  a<?count  o4  m 
moral  feelings  which  it  excites  ©a 
cherishes,  in  the  heart  of  its  w(^^ 
votary.  It  leads  him  tocontempwe 
man  in  a  higher  and  more  extewWi 
view  than  is  taken  by  human  prK» 
It  divests  himof  alladvenUtiousiDa 


gawdy  trappings,  and  brings  taffl 
down  to  the  true  level  of  reason^ 
moral  worth.  In  our  w«^^^ 
rich  and  the  poor,  the  learned^ 
unlearned,meet together  as  theot 

t^ires  and  children  of  one  (^^ 
father.  There  they  forgettbe  IW 
distinctions  of  a  vam  "^^^^'^ 
cherish  with  delight  the  bene^ 
feelings.  Brethren  andcompsW^ 
it  is  grateful  to  my  heart  to  l»W 
the  reflection,  that  in  every  s«^^ 
of  trial  anddifficulQTjI  ca0,hy  , 
tue  of  my  coimection  with  yw, 
the  widdy  extended  ^^^'ZZ 
faithful  bosoms,  in  which  ^ 
the  troubles  of  my  m«M»  **** 

Didtized  by  VjOOQIC 


which  I  can  receive  the  most  disin> 
tereated  friendship,  and  profitable 
advice.  A  true  mason  can  neither 
supplant  his  brother,  nor  walk  with 
those  who  slander  him.  He  cannot, 
in  the  reproachful  sense  of  the  terms, 
become  a  tale  bearer,  nor  busy  body, 
in  the  concerns  of  any  member  of 
our  fVatemity.  His  obligations  are 
too  solemn,  thus  to  sport  with  the  sa- 
cred rights  of  one  whohi  he  hopes  to 
meet  in  harmonious  intercourse  in 
the  lodge,  where  aU  the  luminaries 
of  our  order  will  be  assembled  to  re- 
•gale  themselves  with  "the  food 
which  angels  eat.*'  By  those  pres- 
ent, who  are  unacquainted  with  the 
truths  which  we  have  found,  I  may  be 
considered  as  indulging  in  the  high 
wrought  strains  of  eulogy.  My  ad- 
dress is  exclusively  to  masons,  and 
to  them  I  will  answer  for  the  truth  of 
my  assertions,  if  they  have  not  been 
culpably  remiss  in  investigating  the 
principles  of  our  craft.  I  pretend 
not  that  masons  are,  in  all  cases, 
faithful  to  their  obhgations.  Ma- 
sonry cannot  on  this  account  be  just; 
ly  reproached.  There  are  no  sanc- 
tions, human  or  divine,  that  can  re- 
strain the  wanderings  of  those  un- 
fortunate beings,  whose  hearts  ^u'e 
fully  set  in  them  to  do  evil.  In  the 
church  of  the  living  God,  tares  are 
ever  to  be  found  growing  with  the 
wheat.  Why  then  should  it  be 
thought  strange  if  some  of  our  fra- 
ternity, composed  of  mere  men,  in 
an  unperfect  state,  should  prove  un- 
worthy of  the  confidence  in  them 
reposed  ?  Brethren,  let  us  not  forget 
bow  much  it  behoves  us  to  strive  to 
reclaim  those,  who,  through  the  in- 
fluence of  temptation,  have  depart- 
ed from  the  safe  and  pleasant  way. 
I  had  rather  endure  the  reproach  of 
those  who  know  not  our  reasons  for 
bearing  with  the^  obUquities  of  a 
brother,  than  to  cut  htm  off  from  our 
privileges  and  fellowship,  while  there 
remains  any  reasonable  hope  of  his 
antendment.  While  I  would  give 
na  sanction  to  vice,  I  would  be  cau- 


HASONIC.  99 

tious  how  I  riveted  its  galling  chains 
upon  a  brother,  by  a  hasty  disrup- 
tion of  our  masonic  ties.  There  are 
cases,  indeed,  of  flagrant  transgres- 
sion, when  no  alternative  is  left  us. 
They  are  not,  however,  as  frequent 
as  those  in  which  a  cure  may  be  ef^ 
fected  by  the  friendly  remonstrance. 
Brethren  and  companions,  by  a 
d«e  regard  to  the  particulars  already 
mentioned, "  let  your  light  shine  be- 
fore men."  Your  general  obliga- 
tions, as  masons,  are  so  well  known, 
and  so  frequently  inculcated  in  the 
lodge,  that  I  degm  it  unnecessary 
for  me  to  be  particular  on  this  occa- 
sion. We  have  precept  upon  pre- 
cept, and  line  upon  line,  urging  us, 
by  the  most  elevated  and  inspiring 
considerations,  to  be  unwearied  in 
well-doing.  The  bright  example  of 
that  exalted  character  which  we 
have  assembled  to  commemorate, 
powerfully  constrains  us  to  "  let  our 
Kght  shine  before  men."  John  Bap- 
tist was  a  burning,  and  a  shining 
light.  His  integrity,  his  diligence, 
his  zeal,  and  attachment  to  the  cause 
of  human  happiness,  were  most  ex- 
emplary. In  fidelity  to  his  master, 
he  was  unwavering.  In  reproving 
evil,  he  was  prompt,  and  undaunted. 
In  his  endeavours  to  turn  men  from 
6very  fal?e  way,  he  was  persevering, 
and  unwearied.  <  As  a  messenger  of 
the  Most  High,  to  a  thoughtless 
and  corrupt  generation,  he  obtained 
*Ai>  testimony  from  him  who  sent 
him :  "  Verily  I  say  unto  you, 
among  them  that  are  bom  of  women, 
there  hath  not  risen  a  greater  than 
John  the  Baptist."  The  greatness 
of  this  holy  man  consisted  in  the 
strictness  of  his  integrity,  and  the 
faithfulness  of  his  virtue.  Human 
happiness  was  his  aim,  and  on  no 
occasion  was  he  known  to  relinquish 
his  object  He  let  his  light  continu- 
'  ally  shme  before  men,  by  imparting 
moral  and  religious  instruction,  by 
encouraging  virtuous  resolutions,and 
by  exdtmg  the  vicious  to  amend- 
ment of  life.    Like  our  Grand  JMas- 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


100  MASONIC* 

ter^  whose  finnness  has  in  all  ages 
been  the  admiration  of  masons, 
rather  than  betray  his  trust,  when 
high  handed  immorality,  in  an  ele- 
vated station,  demanded  reproof,  he 
raised  his^iccastng  voice,  regardless 
of  what  either  wounded  pride  or  re- 
venge, clothed  with  power,  could 
do.  He  fell  a  victim  to  his  integrity, 
leaving  us  an  example  of  what  we 
are  to  do  when  the  eternal  obliga- 
tions of  truth  and  righteousness  re- 
quiwf  us  to  decide,  and  to  act.  Wor- 
thy of  our  study,  brethren,  and  imi- 
tation, is  the  example  of  this  faithful 
man.  It  shines  in  the  moral  world, 
like  the  luminary  of  day  in  tlie  midst 
of  heaven's  cerulean  arch.  It  spar- 
kles like  the  Urim  and  Thummim 
on  Aaron^s  breast.  It  manifests 
wisdom,  strength,  and  beauty ;  the 
glory  of  intellectual  man ;  and  in- 
spires a  hope,  firm  as  the  immortal 
pillars  of  the  heavenly  Jerusalem. 

Influenced,  as  I  believe,  by  the 
genuine  feeling*  of  brotherly  love, 
most  seriously  and  earnestly  would 
I  endeavour,  brethren  and  com- 
panions, to  persuade  you  to  a  con- 
tinual and  active  diligence  in  the  ful- 
iilment  of  the  work  given  you  to  do 
by  the  Grand  Master  of  the  universe. 
Time  is  short  and  uncertain.  The 
cord  which  binds  us  to  earth's  busy 
and  ever  varying  scenes,  is  frail  and 
brittle.  Solemn  and  affecting  have 
been  the  mementoes  of  these  truths, 
in  the  fall  of  two  of  our  number,  ol" 
late«  Abundant  evidence  has  been 
given  us  that  there  is  no  security 
from  the  power  of  the  universal  des- 
troyer, in  this  land  of  change.  He 
has  not  chosen  his  victims  among 
tJiose  who  were  bowing  beneath  the 
weight  of  years,  in  whom  desire  had 
failed,  to  whom  the  grasshopper  was 
a  burden,  but  he  has  selected  those 
who  were  in  full  strength,  whose 
breasts  were  full  of  milk,  and  whose 
bones  were  moistened  with  marrow. 
We  profess  to  be  engaged  in  a  work 
which  is  to  undergo  a  critical  inspec- 
tion before  the  Grand  Council  of 


Eternity ;  a  work  which  must  be  the 
evidence  of  our  everlasting  gkny  or 
shame,  according  as  it  shall  compare 
with  the  pattern  delivered  for  oar 
imitation  !  How  deeply  are  we  con- 
cemed  then,  to  apply  our  time  and 
talents  to  the  best  advantage,  that, 
when  we  present  our  work,  it  may 
stand  the  test,  and  be  received  as  fit 
for  our  Master's  use !  We  have  the 
necessaj^  skill  imparted  to  us  ;  we 
have  the  requisite  tools,  the  pro|>er 
materials,  and  the  time  to  complete 
the  task  assigned  us*  If  inferior  ob- 
jects induce  us  to  neglect  it,  unspeak- 
able will  be  our  shame,  and  great 
our  everlasting  regret,  when  we  shall 
be  made  to  wimess  our  work  cast 
away  as  unfit  to  be  employed  in 
the  temple  above.  Let  me  hope, 
that  none  of  you  will  be  so  wanting 
to  yourselves,  so  void  of  wisdom,  so 
inattentive  to  the  friendly  remon- 
strances of  our  benevolent  institu- 
tion, as  to  come  short  of  those  gkiri- 
ous  expectations  which  will  be  real- 
ized by  ever)^  faithful  crai\sniaB, 
when  the  brittle  thread  of  life  shall 
be  broken.  I  feel  it  an  imperious 
duty  to  remind  yon,  that  though  a 
virtuous  life  is  indispensable  to  a 
happy  immortality,  yet,  of  you,  who 
have  heai-d  those  glad  tidings  of  great 
joy,  which  were  announced  by  an- 
gels when  Jesus  appeai*ed  in  human 
form,  something  more  than  moral 
virtue  is  required.  You  are  demand- 
ed to  give  him  a  cordial  reception 
into  a  grateful  heart,  who  died  for 
all.  You  are  to  trust  in  him,  as  the 
Alpha  and  Omega,  the  first  and  the 
last,  who  has  the  keys  of  death  and 
of  hell,  who  openeui,  and  no  man 
shutteth  ;  who  shntteth,  and  no  man 
openetfa.  To  this  only  Saviour  of 
men,  the  holy  John  Baptist  gave 
ample  witness  that  he  is  the  Son  of 
God.  You  will  bear  with  these  re- 
marks, when  you  reflect,  that  I  am 
an  anabassadour  of  this  Prince  of  sal- 
vation, and  feel  it  my  imperious  du- 
ty to  pray  you,  in  hb  stead,  to  be 
reconciled  to  God  in  the  way  which 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MASONIC. 


101 


he  has  prescribed.  Though  I  might 
extend  my  observations  to  a  far 
greater  length,  I  am  \inwiUing  to 
trespass  upon  your  indulgence,  and 
will  therefore  come  to  a  conclusion, 
after  offering  a  few  words  by  way  of 
exhortation  to  those  for  whose  con- 
sideration the  discourse  has  been 
solely  prepared. 

You,  my  respected  brethren  and 
companions,  profess  to  be  seeking 
the  advancement  of  your  knowledge. 
the  expansion  of  your  intellectual 
faculties,  the  due  regulation,  and  ap- 
plication of  your  passions,  and  the 
ben^cial  exercise  of  vour  moral 
powers.  These  are  noLle  objects, 
abundantly  worthy  of  the  most 
steady  and  vigorous  exertions.  Thje 
niore  you  attain,  the  brighter  you 
"will  shine  among  the  excellent  o^ 
the  earth.  Go  on  in  wisdom's  ways  j 
pursue  love,  and  cherish  truth.  Be 
firm  to  resolve,  and  stubborn  to  en- 
dure, when  goodness  and  justice  call 
you  to  action.  Survey  with  reve- 
rential awe,  and  grateful  sentiments 
of  soul,  the  eternal  king  of  ages,  in 
the  glass  of  his  creatures,  and  the 
volume  of  his  will.  Raise  y  our  am- 
bition,  by  reflecting  upon  the  dignity 
of  your  station  'm  3ie  scale  of  being. 
Your  continuance  in  this  first  stage 
of  your  existence,  and  your  duties, 
will  be  but  short.  Confine  not  your 
hopes ;  set  not  your  affections  upon 
fleeting  joys.  The  fair  cliffs,  and 
lofty  cedars  of  Lebanon,  are  in  view, 
beckoning  vou  to  ascend.  Beneath 
the  holy  hill  of  Zion,  there  is  no  per- 
nianeiit  repose ;  diffi<:ulties  and  dan- 
gers, perplexities,  sorrows,  and  toils, 
are  the  inevitable  lot  of  mortals. 
But  we  are  not  launched  upon  the 
ocean  of  life  only  to  be  swallowed  by 
its  quick  sands.  No,  ye  mystic  and 
enlightened  few,  ye  never  dwell  up- 
on the  gloomy  side  of  life's  picture, 
when  by  the  light  of  the  bush,  ye 
ken  a  being  whose  tender  mercies 
Bte  over  ati  his  works.  Ye  believe, 
that  amidst  all  the  labours  and  con- 
rulsiOQs  of  nature's  works,  ye  cannot 


lose  "  one  drop  of  immortal  man,^^ 
Let  the  frowning  pestilence  spread 
wide  her  livid  banners,  and  carry 
destruction  through  the  ranks  of 
men ;  let  the  friends  of  your  bosom 
fall  on  the  right  hand,  and  on  the 
left,  let  the  new  sepulchre  be  opened 
to  enclose,  in  its  cold  and  silent 
bosom,  the  dear  object  of  your  affec- 
tionate solicitude,  still  you  perceive 
flourishing  at  its  head,  the  emblem- 
atic sprig  of  immortality,  assuring 
you  of  another  world,  in  which  death 
shall  have  no  dominion.  Brethren 
and  companions,  were  T  to  utter  the 
glorious  truths  which  crowd  upon 
my  mind,  and  fill  my  soul  with  tri- 
umphant joy,  I  should  be  in  danger 
of  exhausting  thatfratemal  patience, 
which  has  borne  with  me  thus  far. 
I  will  suppress  my  feelings,  and  con- 
clude, by  affectionately  entreating 
you  to  exemplify  in  your  whole  lives 
and  conversation,  the  heaven-derived 
principles  of  masonry.  Let  your 
love  be  without  dissimulation.  Ab- 
hor that  which  is  evil.  Cleave  to 
that  which*  is  good.  "  Be  kindly 
affected  one  to  another."  Bear  ye 
one  another's  burdens,  and  thus  ful- 
fil the  law  of  Christ,  the  pattern  of 
excellence,  and  the  hope  of  unmor- 
tality. 


REMARKS. 

The  preceding  address  is  recom- 
mended in  particular,  to  the  candid, 
and  serious  attention  of  that  portion 
of  the  readers  of  the  Masonic  Regis- 
ter, who  have  not  been  initiated  into 
the  mysteries  of  our  order.  Coming 
from  so  respectable  a  source,  from  a 
clergyman  of  the  first  rate  talents, 
and  of  acknowledged  piety  and 
worth,  we  think  that  it  cannot  fail  of 
dispelling  firom  the  mind  of  every 
person  not  contaminated  by  "  the 
monster  Bigotry ,''  all  improper  im- 
pressions, imbibed  through  the  un- 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


102 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


JHst^and  wicked  asperskmsthat  have 
been  so  lavishly  heaped  upon  the 
principles  of  the  fraternity,  by  the  ig- 
norant, and  the  superstitious,  m  ev- 
ry  age  of  the  world,  and  convince 
every  lover  of  truth,  that  Christiani- 
ty and  freemasonry,  in  no  respect, 
work  in  opposition  to  each  other. 

To  the  brotherhood,  we  would  ob- 
serve, tliat  it  contains  a  rich  fund  of 
instruction,  as  well  as  needful  re- 
proof, and  ought  not  to  be  passed 
over  with  a  slight,  or  even  a  single 
reading,  inasmuch  as  it  reminds  us. 
in  a  forcible  manner,  of  the  most 
solemn  obligations  we  are  under  to 
each  other,  and  above  all,  of  the  du- 
ty we  owe  to  our  God. 

IxMPERIAL  FOLLY. 

By  late  advices  from  Russia,  it  ap- 
pears that  Alexander  h^  raised  his 
mighty  arm  against  the  institution 
of  masonry,  by  ordering  all  lodges 
in  his  dominions  closed,  and  all  civil, 
military,  or  naval  officers,  to  re- 
nounce the  order  forever,  under  a 
severe  penalty !  Take  care  Alex- 
ander ;  til  is  step  may  prove  fatal  to 
all  your  greatness.  Reflect  that  you 
have  to  conquer  more  kings  and 
princes,  than  ever  were  subdued  by 
your  Great  namesake,  before  you 
can  overthrow  the  masonic  order,  or, 
with  the  utmost  of  your  power,  in- 
duce a  single  good  subject  in  your 
empire,  to  renounce  his  allegiance 
to  the  institution. 

We  should  rejoice  to  hear  of  a 
new  convocation,  of  the  grand  con- 
gress of  the  sovereigns  of  Europe, 
to  take  this  subject  into  considera- 
tion ;  and  that  George  IV,  with  all 


the  surviving  members  of  the  royal 
family  of  England,  should  attend ; 
and  could  the  ghosts  of  Alfred  the 
Great,  and  Prince  Edwin  of  E^ 
gland,  king  Jaroei  of  Scotkoidy 
Francis,  emperor  of  Germany,  add 
Frederick  the  Great  of  Prussia,  all 
of  whom  were  distinguished  masons, 
be  present,  to  whisper  $ometking  in- 
to their  ears,  perhaps  the  afiair 
might  terminate  in  a  manner  nmOar 
to  that  of  the  Pittsburg^  Presbytery, 
before  that  respectable  body,^  the 
General  Assembly  of  Ftesbytmstns 
of  the  United  States. 

^MISCFXLANEOUS. 

To  THE  Editor  op  the  Masonic 

Reoistee. 
Sir, 

I  send  you  for  insertion  in  your 
excellent  Magazine,  the  copy  of  a 
Letter  from  a  gentleman  on  a  tour 
through  the  Southern  States,  to  his 
sister.  Hisphilaothropy  of  feeling, 
attended  with  his  correspondii^  and 
efficient  action,  is  worthy  of  inut»-> 
tion.         Yours,  s.  m. 

Pkiladelphiaj  March  17, 182J. 
2  o^clock^  p.  M. 
Deae  Sister, 

We  do  not  weigh  anchor  so  soon 
by  one  day  as  I  intimated  m  my  last. 
It  is  all  hurry  and  bustle,  and  rude 
merriment  upon  deck,  while,  having 
this  moment  blundered  myself  imo 
a  seat  at  our  master^s  writing-desk, 
I  will  secure  this  ^  privileged  mo- 
ment," to  hurry  you  up  a  brief 
sketch  of  a  few  incidents  or  actons 
in  this  scene,  which  either  are  se 
simple,  so  unostentatious  and  retir- 
ing,  or  so  common  that  they  seem 
to  have  escaped  the  notice  of  every 
person  but  myself. 

'Digitized  by  Google 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


103 


Indeed,  amid  tbe  salutations  of  gai- 
ety, and  the  balbeck  consultations  of 
men  of  business,  committing  their 
ventures  of  gain  to  the  uncertaintiesof 
the  deep,  this  silent  and  beseeching 
spectacle,  is  too  humble  to  woo  re- 
gard, but  from  the  eye  of  ftincy,  left 
emancipate  from  the  reign  of  the 
stronger  faculties.  At  a  little  distance 
from  the  convolving  mazes  of  this 
bustling  crowd,  I  observed  a  female 
form,  in  humble  dress,  and  of  unpre- 
tending modesty,  standing  by  herself, 
in  a  fixed,  and  thoughtful  attitude. 
Her  look  was  downcast  and  wan,  and 
overspread  with  a  mildness  of  resig- 
nation, half-smiling  in  its  bitterness, 
such  as  might  be  with  one  about  to 
be  torn  from  some  dear  object  i»ike 
Sterne's  Maria,  there  was  no  aruy 
offered  her  to  lean  upon;  and  m^' 
guessed  that  Fortune^  our  legitimate 
school-mbtress,  was  administering 
to  tliis  young  mother,  for  a  mother 
she  seemed,  some  rude  kind  of  dis- 
cipline. Her  cares  seemed  toawake 
into  more  evident  concern  as  the  dis- 
appearing of  the  business-men  began 
now  to  make  room.  Her  eyes, 
which  till  nmtf  seemed  ^<  bent  on  va- 
cancy, and  with  liiB  incorporeal  air 


to  hold  discourse,'*'  were  now  ficed 
upon  the  shi|i ;  and  qow  alternately 
upon  the  ship,  and  upon  the  ground. 
I  had  gazed  upon  tiiis  person  with 
deep  interest,  pi»i«liiig  myself  with 
conjectures  about  h^r  lot,  till  reason 
was  satisfied,  curiosity  could  learn 
nothing  more,  and  that  however  de- 
sirous, if  able,  I  could  now  have  no 
opportunity  to 

— —  "minister  to  a  mind  diseased ; 
Pluck  from  the  memory  a  rooted  sorrow ; 
Baze  out  tbe  written  tronbles  of  the  brain , 
Or,  with  some  sweet  oblivions  antidote^ 
Cleanse  the  stnflfd  bosom  of  that  perilous 

stuflTy 
Which  weighs  upon  the  heart." 

I  now  descended  the  cabin  to  ad- 
just some  things,  and  prepare  for 
our  departure.  Here  I  found  two 
playful,  honest  lads;  tlie   one  ap- 


parently five,  and  the  other  seven 
years  of  age,  of  whom,  by  their  cos- 
tume, I  judged  that  they  too,  would 
sail  with  us.  I  had  not  been  here 
long,  before  the  lady  abovemention- 
ed,  descended  the  staira  of  the  cabin, 
and  seating  herself  beside  tlie  two 
little  boys,  surveyed  them  with  that 
maternal  and  mute  eloquence  with 
which  a  mother  watches  the  turning 
crisis  of  some  malignant  fever,  which 
threatens  to  bum  in  twain  the  life- 
thread  of  her  first  born  ! 

It  required  no  power  of  divination 
to  discover  their  mother's  image  in 
the  face  of  this  female.  She  had 
just  emigrated  from  Ireland,  and 
sought  our  country,  as  an  assylum 
from  the  wretchedness  that  had  ex- 
patriated her,  and  her  children,  firom 
her  own.  The  father,  unable  to 
see  his  own  dear  children  raise  to 
him  the  supplicat'mg  hand  for  food, 
without  the  power  of  administering 
to  their  cries ;  or,  to  see  their  mother 
weeping  over  the  tomb  of  all  com- 
fortable felicity,  frU  a  victim  to  his 
own  ^ief,  and  ijy  his  own  hand  I 
"  Our  landlords,"  continued  the  lady, 
while  a  varied  blush  of  hallowed  in- 
dignity kindled  on  her  hectic,  sallow 
cheek, "  our  landlords  refused  us  our 
usual  and  hard  earned  pittance.  To 
maintain  these  hungry  babies  Sir," 
and  the  yearnings  of  the  mother,  as 
she  raised  her  full  eyes  upon  them, 
fell  in  large  drops  down  her  cheek, 
and  lodged  upon  her  bosom,"  I  found 
my  unaided  strength  inadequate  to 
do  what  we  both  had  been  unable  to 
perform;  and  was  thus  driven  by 
the  dire  mandates  of  hard  necessity, 
and  my  children's  good,  to  fly  the 
domicil  of  tyrants,  and  seek  a  shelter 
in  some  more  hospitable  clime  :  But 
alas  !  in  steering  ihe  only  ark  of  my 
hopes  to  escape  the  devouring  gulph 
of  Charybdis,  I  have  met  the  hungry 
rocks  of  Scylla^' 

(Incidet  in  Scyllami  qui  vult  vitare  Cfaa- 
rybdim. — ) 

"  For  I  now  find  my  resources  too 
scanty  to  afibrd  a  comfortable  suste-« 


104 


MlSCfiLUANEOUS. 


nance  and  education  to  these  my  f^- 
thcrless  children  ;  and  as  the  mother 
sent  away  Joseph  and  Benjamin,  so 
send  I  my  two  boys  to  Georgia,  not 
knowinjpf  the  things  that  may  befall 
them  there.  But  this  thing  I  know, 
they  will  there  have  no  mother  to 
watch  over  them  in  sickness  and  in 
heahh;  and  their  master  will  not 
have  a  father's  heart  to  pity  and  pro 
vkle  for  them.  Alas ;  I  have  brought 
them  into  an  existence  where  penury 
and  misfortune  deride  all  n^y  efforts 
to  support  it !" 

The  touching  eloquence  with  which 
NATURE  uttered  these  plaintive  emo- 
tions; her  pensive  articulation,  the 
sacredness  of  her  sorrow,  her  be- 
seeching modesty,  and  the  whole  tone 
and  earnestness  of  her  language,  are 
recollections  as  impossible  to  forget, 
as  they  are  to  pourtray.  It  did  not 
fall  u))on  an  impenetrable. ear;  it 
touched  a  corresponding  note  within 
me,  that  vibrated  through  a  thousant' 
strings ;  and  which,  like  the  music  ot 
Glarol,  if  Bof  sweet,  "  was  mournful 
to  the  soul."  The  truth  was;  thi^ 
woman  had  stipulated  to  give  away 
her  children,  during  the  minority  of 
their  years,  to  a  slaveholder  in  Geor- 
gia; vihn,  on  passing  this  sea-port,  it 
appeared,  had  ordered  their  passage 
to  Savannah,  whence  they  were  to  be 
transported  by  stage  about  one  hun- 
dred miles  into  the  interior  of  that 
state,  on  which  route  I  determined  to 
prosecute  my  journey. 

The  sailors  now  began  to  play  off 
their  usual  cries  when  unAirling  the 
sails,  which  the  mother  observed  as  a 
signal  for  tearing  herself  from  her 
sober-looking  boys ;  and  each  mo- 
ment now  added  a  two-fold  sting  to 
every  throe,  as  it  sliortened  the  possi- 
bility of  dday.  Her  mind,  aye !  her 
whole  soul  had  now  become  too  deep- 
ly agitated  to  conceal  its  bitterness : 
her  eyes,  suffiised  and  glistening  with 
maternal  fondness,  lingered  in  speech- 
less eloquence  on  her  forlorn  Ijttlp 
boys  ;  she  cast  now  and  then  an  ask- 
ing look  at  me,  and  at  length  exclaim- 


ed ;  "OSir!  do  befriend  these  tny 
children  ?  As  you  are  going  to  Cieor- 
sia,  J  resign  them  to  your  goodness ! 

0  watch,  and  protect  them  !  and  pro- 
pitiate for  them  the  favour  of  their 
master  when  you  shall  give  them 
up/'  But  the  moment  had  noir  ar- 
rived. She  saw  the  last  saods  of  this 
last  and  protracted  interview  with  her 
beloved  children  were  now  falling : 
with  rears  fast  flowing,  she  flies  to- 
wards her  children,  but  pausing  short, 
she  cast  an  imploring  look  to  heaven, 
while  a  convulsive  clasp  rivets  her 
hands  upon  her  breast,  and  seemed  to 
cry,  **  O  thou  Spirit  of  my  destiny  ! 
if  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from 
me !"  But  Fate-^^relenHe99  as  deatkj 
and  inexorable  as  the  grave — she 

y|ishe8  to  her  boys,  and  embosoms 
Hem  in  her  last  embrace :  "  Be  good, 
I  my  children,"  #he  cries;  "  hope  we 
*-«iiall  meet  again.  May  God,  my 
dear  children  bless" — - — here  she 
could  not  speak ;  as  they  were  bang- 
ing upon  her  neck,  another,  yet  an- 
other lingering  moment,  she  tore  them 
from  her,  and  left  the  cabin.  And  I 
know   not    from  what  impulse,  but 

1  followed  immediately  after,  and 
reached  the  deck  as  she  set  her  A>ot 
upon  the  wharf.  On  s^ng  me,  she 
more  composedly,  thooeh  fervently 
demanded,  "  Will  you,  kind  Sir,  be^ 
friend  my  poor  cast-out  children,  now 
that  they  are  s^n^  away  motherless, 
upon  the  ocean,  to  seek  a  home  at 
their  tender  age,  among  strangers  ? 
Won't  you  watch  and  nurse  them 
should  they  be  sick  ?"  She  was  here 
interrupted  by  my  assurances;  the 
ship  got  under  way,  and  1  soon  saw 
her  no  more. 

I  believe,  my  dear  ^ster,  that  if 
any  penitent  of  the  himian  family, 
should  ask  of  our  venerable  Saviour, 
the  remission  of  his  sins  with  that 
earnest  contrite  sinceri^  with  which 
the  above  petitions  were  urged,  the 
request  would  be  granted.  I  have 
been  told  that  the  cause  of  the  widow 
and  the  orphan  was  rigidly  sacred  in 
masoQic  faiA.^^^R.^i5,^gjpe  jro« 


know  I  boast  a  philanthropy  which 
can  be  excelled  only  bv  a  disparity 
of  means.  But  I  shaft  close  with 
promising  to  give  you  in  my  next  a 
minute  detail  of  all  the  little  acts  of 
kindness  which  I  can  contrive  to 
bestow  upo«  my  proteges  during 
their  passage,  and  until  I  deliver 
them  up  into  the  hands  of  their 
adopted  master  in  Qeorgia :  For  be 
assured,  if  Providence  do  not  inter 
fere  to  prevent,  I  will  not  basely  de- 
sert my  charge  before  this  is  achiev- 
ed^ so  long  as.  a  drop  of  blood  is 
propelled  from  this  heart,  or  a  shred 
of  musele  quivers  on  this  arm  ! 
Yours,  affectionately^    e.  u.  b. 


Foa  THE  Masonig  Register.* 
THE  WARRIOR'S  WRCATH.      || 

"  Th$JighUnf^host^gaif  rainbow  butchers** 
Heboid  the  wreatb  which  decks  the  warri- 
or's brow  J  [ho, 
Breathes  it  a  balmy  fragrance  sweet  ?  Ab, 

It  rankly  savours  of  the  grave  I 
'TIS  red — but  not  with  roseate  hues : 
*Tis  crimsoned  o*er 
With  human  gore ! 
Tia  wtt — but  not  with  heavenly  dews ; 

Tis  drenched  jii^ears  t^  wMows,  orphans 

sbed>t 
Metbinlcs  in  sMe  weeds  I  see  them  clad, 
And  mourn  in  vain,  for  husbands  slain, 
Children  belov'd,  or  brothers  dear, 

The  fatherless 

In  deep  distress 
Despairing — shed  the  scalding  tear. 

I  hear  'mid  dying  groans  the  cannons' 

crash: 
I  see  'mid  smokC}  the  muskets*  horrid  flash, 
Here  fanrine  walks,  there  carnage  stalks! 
H^n  in  her  fiery  eye,  she  stains 

With  purple  blood 

The  crystal  flood, 
Heaven's  altars,  and  the  verdant  plains! 

*  *  It  may  perhaps  be  proper  to  observe, 
that  the  author  sent  the  "  Warrior's 
"Wreath,"  for  insertion  in  the  "  Friend  of 
Peace,"  a  few  months  since,  over  the  sig- 
nature of  «*  Polemantiof ."  Q.  F.  Y 
VOL.  U.  24 


MISCBLLAI^OirS.  •  10? 

Scenes  of  domestic  peace,  and  social  bliss, 
Are  chang'd  to  scenes  of  wo  and  wretch- 
edness; 
The  votarips  of  vfce  increase-— 
Towns  sack'd— ^whole  cities  wrapt   in 
flames ! 
Just  Heaven !  say 
Is  this  the  baif 
Which  warriar$  gdtn  ;  is  thi$  talTd  Fame  ? 


Foft  TBB  Masonio  Reoisteb. 

Brother  Pratt, 

Observing  in  one  of  your  numbers 
composing  the  first  volume,  several 
historical  scraps,  I  send  you  the  fol- 
lowing, which  if  you  think  worthy, 
please  to  insert,  and  oblige 

Your  brother  in  lucis.         g. 

LUCIUS  SICINIUSDENT  A.TUS, 

Was  $1  tribime  of  Romei  cele- 
brated for  his  valor,  and  the  honours 
he  had  acquired  in  war  during  a  pe- 
riod of  forty  years.  He  fought  one 
hundred  and  twenty-one  battles,  ob- 
tained fourteen  civic*  crowns,  three 
mural  ones,  eight  crowns  of  gold, 
eighty-three  golden  collars,  sixty 
bracelets,  eighteen  lances^,  and  twen- 
ty-three horses  with  their  accoutre- 
ments ;  all  as  the  rewards  of  his  un- 
common services.  He  was  able  to 
show  the  scars  of  forty-five  wounds, 
which  he  had  received  in  his  breast, 
particularly  in  opposing  the  Sabines, 
when  they  attempted  the  capitol. 
The  popularity  obtained  by  his  valor 
made  him  adviser  to  Appius  Clau- 
dius, then  one  of  thedecenwirs,  who 
wishing  to  make  himself  absolute  in 
Rome,  found  Sicintus  too  powerful 
to  be  overcome  by  fair  means ;  to 
rempve  him  therefore  was  necessarj', 

•IC/wc  crowns  were  the  rewarda 
of  those  who  in  battle  saved  the  Uvea 
of  their  fellow  citizens^  and  murai^ 
the  rewards  of  those  who  fret  mount* 
ed  the  enemy^s  walls,  or  passed 
through  the  breach.  The  former 
were  considered  themorehmourable. 


106  •  MTSCELLANEOrS. 

By  the  authority  of  the  decemvir  he 
was  sent  to  the  army,  on  the  road  to 
which  he  was  attacked  by  one  hun- 
dred men  sent  to  murder  him.  Such 
however  was  his  skill  and  strenji^h, 
that  he  killed  fifteen,  wounded  thir- 
ty, and  forced  the  remainder  to  re- 
sort to  stratagem  for  the  perform- 
ance of  the  deed,  in  the  attempt  of 
which  their  strength  and  courage 
had  failed.  They  ascended  the  rock 
to  which  Sicinius  had  placed  his 
back,  and  hurled  d(3wn  stones  and 
darts  at  their  victim,  till  life  was 
extinct.  Thus  fell,  AUG  306,  Lu- 
cius Sicinius  Dentatus,  who  from  his 
extraordinary  courage  acquired  the 
name  of  the  Roman  Achilles.  ' 


FRAGMENT. 

"  She  tceepcth  sore  in  the  night,  and 
her  tears  are  on  her  cheeks  ;  amomr 
all  her  lovers  she  hath  none  to  com^ 
fort  her  :  all  her  friends  Itave  dealt 
trearherousltf  with  her;  they  arc 
become  her  enemies,^*    Lam.  i,  2. 

A    VISION. 

♦  *  ♦  #  a  Methought  I  saw  a 
young  female,  adorned  with  beauty, 
and  blest  with  innocence,  walking  for- 
ward in  the  path  of  integrity,  which  a 
virtuous  education  had  early  marked 
for  her  to  take,  rejoicing  as  she  went 
with  all  around  her.  But,  in  the 
midst  of  her  happiness,  unexpected 
calamit|r  suddenly  surprised,  and 
precipitated  her  from  prosperity  into 
the  deepest  distress.  In  this  trying 
period  she  enjoyed  all  the  benefits 
derived  from  early  implanted  virtue 
and  religion.  Taught  by  them,  thf 
lovely  mourner  turns  not  to  the 
world  for  consolation.  No,  she  looks 
up  to  her  Creator  for  comfort,  whose 
supporting  aid  is  so  particularly 
promised  to  afflicted  worth.  Cheer- 
ed by  them,  she  is  able  to  exert  her 
talents,  genius,  and  taste,  and  draw 
upon  industry  for  her  future  support 
Her  active  virtue  she  thinks  the  best 
proof  of  submission  to  the  will  of 


Heaven,  which  she  can  give.  And 
in  laudable  exertions  she  finds  a 
conscious  peace,  which  the  mere 
possession  of  fortune  could  never  be- 
stow. 

"  While  thus  employed,  a  son  of 
perfidy  sees  her,  and  marks  her  for 
his  prey,  because  she  is  at  once  lore- 
ly,  and  helpless.  Her  unsuspect- 
ing creduUty  lays  her  open  to  his 
arts,  and  his  blandishments  by  de* 
grees  allure  her  heart  The  snares 
which  he  has  spread,  at  IstX  involve 
her  5  with  the  inconstancy  of  liber- 
tinism he  sopn  deserts  ner,  and 
again  she  is  plunged  in  distress.  But 
mark  the  difference  of  ho:  first  and 
second  fall.  Conscious  integrity  no 
longer  lends  its  consoling  aid  to 
stem  the  tide  of  sorrow.  Despair^ 
Ikstead  of  hope,  arises,  without  one 
nriend  to  sooth  the  pangs  of  guilt, 
one  pitying  soul  to  whisper  peace  to 
her  departing  spirit.  Insulted  too, 
perhaps  by  some  unfeeling  being, 
whom  want  of  similar  teraptatioa 
alone,  has  saved  from  similar  impru- 
dence, she  sinks  an  early  victim  to 
remorse  and  wretchedness.". 

IMPRISONIiEfn^FOR  DEBT. 

This  inhuman  practice,  is  thns 
denounced  by  Tho3ias  B.  Rob£bt- 
soN  Esq.  governor  of  Louisiana,  in 
a  speech  to  the  legislature.  "  How 
it  is  that  this  remnant  of  barbansm, 
hob  been  suffered  to  survive,  whilst 
those  with  which  itis  connected  have 
been  annihilated,  it  b  difficult  to 
comprehend  ;  but  it  is  as  ui^ust  as 
it  is  cruel,  and  impoUtic.  Imprison- 
ment is  no  more  to  be  found  in  the 
bond  than  blood ;  and  although 
Shy  lock  was  denied  his  pound  of 
flesh,  our  laws  meanly  step  in ;  give 
to  a  judgment  for  property,  a  v-alne 
paramount  to  human  liberty;  de- 
prive society  of  what  belongs  to  it, 
the  labour  of  its  citizens ;  pander  lo 
the  vengeance  of  petty  tyrants,  who 
fill  society  with  widows  and  orphans, 
by  the  living  death,  they  inflict  5  on 

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MISCELLANBOUS. 


whom?  On  those  certainly  not  as 
fortunate,  nor  probably  as  knavish 
as  thenoselves.  Governments^  to 
make  mankind  happy,  sbouM  not 
only  reihiin  from  harsh,  and  cruel 
acts,  but  should  prevent  individuals 
from  Indulging  their  bad,  and  detest- 
able passions.'' 

GENEROUS  HIGHWAYMAN. 
It  was  said  of  Bnnlter,  a  better 
sott  of  highwayman,  that  one  day 
riding  on  horseback  on  the  high 
load,  he  met  a  young  woman  who 
was  weeping,  and  who  appeared  to 
be  in  great  distress.  Touched  with 
connpassion,  asked  what  was  the 
cause  of  her  affliction ;  when  she 
told  him,  without  knowing  who  he 
was,  that  a  creditor,  attended  by  a 
bailiff,  had  gone  to  a  house  whicl|  | 
she  pointed  out,  and  threatened  to 
take  her  husband  to  prison  for  a  debt 
of  thirty  guineas.  Boultergave  her 
the  amount,  telling  her  to  go  pay 
the  debt,  and  set  her  husband  at 
liberty  5  and  she  ran^oflTJoading  the 
honest  gentleman  with  benedictions. 
Boulter,  in  the  mean  time,  waited  on 
the  road  till  he  saw  the  creditor 
come  out ;  he  then  attacked  him 
and  took  back  the  thiny  guineas,  be- 
sides every  thing  else  he  had  about 
him. 

THE  FLOATING  BEACON. 

[Continued from  page  07 '1^ 
I  rushed  up  the  cabin  stairs,  and 
tried  to  push  open  the  folding  doors 
at  the  head  of  them,  but  they  resisted 
my  utmost  efforts.  I  knocked  vi- 
olently and  repeatedly,  to  no  pur- 
pose. "  Some  one  is  killed,"  cried 
I.  "  The  person  who  barred  tliese 
doors  on  the  outside  is  guilty."  **  I 
know  notliing  of  that,"  returned 
Marietta.  "  We  cah't  be  of  any 
use  now.  Come  here  again  !  How 
dreadfully  quiet  it  is.  My  God  !  A 
d^op  of  blood  has  fallen  through  the 
sky-light.  What  faces  are  yon  look- 
iiig  down  upon  us  ?  But  this  lamp  is 


107 


going  out.  We  mMst  be  going 
through  the  wpter  at  a  terrible  rate. 
How  it  rushes  past  us !  I  am  gettuig 
dizzy.  Do  you  hear  these  bells 
linffing  ?  and strapge  voices  ■       " 

The  cabm  doors  were  suddenly 
burst  open^  and  Angerstolf  next 
moment  appeared  before  us,  crying 
out,  "  Morvalden  has  fallen  over- 
board* Throw  a  rope  to  him  !  He 
will  be  drowned."  His  hands  and 
di-ess  were  marked  with  blood,  and 
he  had  afiightful  look  of  horror  and 
confusion.  "  You  are  a  murderer !" 
exclaimed  I,  almost  involuntarily. 
"  How  do  you  know  that  ?"  said  he, 
staggering  back ;  «  I  am  sure  you 
never  saw — "  "  Hush,  hush,"  cried 
Marietta  to  him ;  "  are  vou  mad  ? 
Speak  again  !  What  frightens  you  ! 
Why  don't  you  run  and  help  Mor- 
valden ?"  "  Has  any  thing  happen- 
ed to  him?"  inquired  Angerstoff, 
with  agaze  of  consternation.  "  You 
told  us  he  had  fallen  overboard,"  re^ 
turned  Marietta.  "Must  ray  hus- 
band perish  ?"  '^Give  me  some  water 
to  wash  my  hands,"  said  Angerstoff, 
growing  deadlv  pale,  and  catching 
hold  of  the  table  for  support. 

I  now  hastened  upon  deck,  but 
Morvajden  was  not  there.  I  then 
went  to  the  side  of  tlie  vessel,  and 
put  my  hands  on  the  gunwale,  while 
I  leaned  over,  and  looked  down- 
wards. On  taking  them  off,  I  found 
them  marked  with  blood.  I  grew 
sick  at  heart*  and  began  to  identify 
myself  with  Angerstoff  the  murder- 
er. The  sea,  the  beacon,  and  the 
sky,  appeared  of  a  sanguine  hue ; 
and  I  tliought  I  heard  the  dying  ex- 
clamations of  Morvalden  sounding 
a  hundred  fathom  below  me,  and 
echoing  through  the  caverns  of  the 
de'efl^I  advanced  to  the  cabin  door, 
inteHMg  to  descend  the  stairs,  but 
founlrthat  some  one  had  fastened  it 
firmly  on  the  inside.  I  felt  convinced 
that  I  was  intentionally  shut  out,  and 
a  cold  shuddering  pervaded  my 
frame.  1  covered  my  face  with  my 
hands,  not  daring  to  look  around ; 

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lOS 


MISCVLLANBOnS. 


for  itseemed  as  if  I  was  excluded 
from  the  company  of  the  living,  and 
doomed  to  be  the  associate  of  spirits 
of  drowned  and  murdered  men#  Ai^er 
a  little  time  I  began  to  walk  hastit> 
backwards  and  forwards;  but  the 
light  of  the  lantern  happened  to  flash 
on  a  stream  of  blood  that  ran  along 
the  deck,  and  I  could  not  summon 
np  resolution  to  pass  the  spot  where 
it  was  a  second  time.  The  sky  look* 
ed  black  and  threatening  $  the  sch 
had  a  fierceness  in  its  sound  and  mo- 
tions ;  and  the  wind  swept  over  its 
bosom  with  melancholy  sighs.  Ev- 
ery thing  was  sombre  and  ominous  : 
and  I  looked  in  vain  for  some  object 
that  would,  by  its  soothing  aspect, 
remove  the  dark  impressions  which 
crowded  upon  my  mind. 

While  standing  near  the  bows  of 
the  vessel,  I  saw  a  hand  and  arm 
rise  slowly  behind  the  stem,  and 
wave  from  side  to  side.  I  started 
back  as  far  as  I  could  go  in  horrible 
affright,  and  looked  again,  expect- 
ing to  behold  the  entire  spectral 
ligure  of ^which  I  supposed  they 
formed  a  part.  But  nothing  more 
was  visible.  I  struck  my  eyes  till 
the  light  flashed  from  them,  in  hopes 
that  my  senses  had  been  imposed 
upon  by  distempered  vision  5  how- 
ever it  was  in  vain,  for  the  hand  still 
motioned  me  to  advance,  and  I  rush- 
ed forwards  with  wild  desperation, 
and  caught  hold  of  it.  I  was  pulled 
along  a  little  way  notwithstanding 
the  resistance  I  had  made,  and  soon 
discovered  a  man  stretched  along  the 
stern-cable,  and  clinging  to  it  in  a 
convulsive  manner.  It  was  Morval- 
den.  He  raised  his  head  feebly, 
and  said  something,  but  I  could  only 
distinguish  the  words  "  murdered— 
overboard — reached  this  rop^nr^er- 
rible  death."  I  stretched  out  my 
arms  to  support  him,  but  at  that  mo- 
ment the  vessel  plunged  violently, 
and  he  was  shaken  off  the  cable,  and 
dropped  among  the  waves.  He 
fbated  for  an  instant,  and  then  dis- 
appeared under  the  keeL 


I  seized  the  first  rope  I  conild  find, 
and  threw  one  end  of  it  over  the 
stern,  and  likewise  flung  some  planks 
into  the  sea,  thinking  that  the  unfor* 
tunate  Morvalden  might  still  reiBin 
strength  enough  to  catch  hold  of 
them  if  they  came  within  his  reach* 
I  continued  on  the  watch  for  a  con- 
siderable time,  but  at  last  aSan- 
doned  all  hopes  of  saving  him,  and 
made  another  altempt  to  get  down 
to  the  cabin ;  the  dootrs  were  now 
unfastened,  and  I  opened  them  with- 
out any  difficulty.  The  first  thing 
I  saw  on  going  below,  was  Anger- 
stoff  stietched  along  the  floor,  and 
last  asleep.  His  torpid  look,  flushed 
countenance,  and  uneasy  respiration, 
convinced  me  that  he  had  taken  a 
large  quantity  of  ardent  spirits.  Ma- 
rietta was  in  her  own  apartment. 
Kven  the  presence  of  a  murderer 
appeared  less  terrible  than  the  fright- 
ful solitariness  of  the  deck,  and  I  lay 
down  upon  a  bench,  determining  to 
spend  the  remainder  of  the  night 
there.  The  lamp  that  hung  from 
the  roof  soon  went  out,  and  left  me 
in  total  darkness.  Imagination  be^ 
gan  to  conjure  up  a  thousand  appal- 
ling forms,  and  me  voice  of  Anger- 
stofl*,  s])eaking  in  hl^  sleep,  filled  my 
ears  at  intervals,  **  Hoist  up  the  bea- 
con !  the  lamps  won't  bum— horri- 
ble !  they  contain  blood  instead  oT 
oil.  Is  that  a  boat  coming?  Yes, 
yes,  I  hear  the  oars.  Damnation  ! 
why  is  that  corpse  so  long  of  sink- 
ing? If  it  doesn't  go  down  soon 
theyll  find  me  out.  How  terribly 
the  wind  blows!  We  are  driving 
ashore — See!  see!  Morvalden  is 
swimming  afler  us.  How  he  writhes 
in  the  water !"  Marietta  now  rush- 
ed from  her  room,  with  a  Ught  in 
her  hand,  and  seizing  AngerstoflTljy 
the  arm,  tried  to  awake  him.  He 
soon  rose  up  with  chattering  teeth 
and  shivering  limbs,  and  was  on  the 
jioint  <yf  speaking,  but  she  prevent- 
ed him,  and  he  staggered  away  to 
his  birth,  and  lay  down  in  it 

Next  morning^  when  I  went  upon 

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msCBtLANSOVS. 


109 


de<^,  after  a  short  and  (perturbed 
sleep,  I  found  Marietta  dashing  wa- 
ter over  it,  that  she  might  efface  alt 
vestige  of  the  transactions  of  the  pre- 
eedtng  night.  Angerstoff  did  not 
make  his  appearance  till  noon,  and 
bis  looks  were  ghastly  and  agonized. 
He  seemed  stupified  with  horror,  and 
sometimes  entirely  lost  all  percep- 
tion of  the  things  around  him  fbr  a 
considerable  time.  He  suddenly  came 
^ose  up  to  me,  and  demanded,  with 
a  bold  air,  but  quivering  voice,  what 
I  had  meant  by  calling  him  a  mur- 
derer ?  "  Why,  that  you  are  one," 
replied  I,  after  a  pause.  ^*  Beware 
^what  you  say,"  returned  he  fiercely, 
"  you  cannot  escape  my  power  now ; 
I  tell  you,  sir,  Morvalden  fell  over- 
board." "  Whence,  then,  came  that 
blood  that  covered  the  deck  ?"  in- 
quired I.  He  grew  pale,  and  then 
cried,  "  You  lie,  you  lie  infernally-^ 
diere  was  none  !"  *^  I  saw  it,"  said 
I, "  I  saw  Morvalden  himself — long 
ailer  midnight.  He  was  clinging  to 
the  stem-cable,  and  said" — "  Ha, 
ka?  ha— devils  !  curses  !"  exclaimed 
Angerstoff— "  Did  you  hear  me 
dreaming  ?  I  was  mad  last  night — 
.  Come,  come,  come  !  We  shall  tend 
the  beacon  together — Let  us  make 
friends,  and  don't  be  afraid,  for 
you'n  find  me  a  good  fellow  in  the 
end."  He  now  forcibly  Shook  hands 
with  me,  and  then  hurried  down  to 
the  cabin. 

In  the  aflernoon,  while  sitting  on 
deck,  I  discerned  a  boat  far  off  but 
I  determined  to  conceal  this  fvom 
Angerstoff  and  Marietta,  lest  they 
should  use  some  means  to  prevent 
its  approach.  I  walked  carelessly 
about,  castmg  a  glance  upon  the  sea 
occasionally,  and  meditating  how  I 
could  best  take  advantage  of  the 
means  of  deliverance  which  I  had  in 

E respect.  After  the  lapse  of  an 
our,  the  boat  was  not  more  than 
half  a  mile  distant  from  us,  but  she 
suddenly  changed  her  course,  and 
bore  away  towards  tlie  shore.  I  im- 
mediately shouted,  and   waved   a 


handkerchief  over  myhea4,as  signab 
for  her  to  return. '  Angerstoff  rush- 
ed from  the  cabin,  and  seized  my 
arm,  threateiiing  at  the  same  time 
to  tnish  me  overboard  if  I  attempted 
to  hail  her  agam.  I  disengaged  my- 
self from  his  grasp,  and  dashed  him 
violently  from  me.  The  noi^ 
brought  Marietta  ^upon  deck,  who 
immediately  perceived  the  cause 
of  the  affray,  and  cried,  "  Does  the 
wretch  mean  to  make  his  escape? 
For  Godsake,  prevent  the  possibili- 
ty of  that !"  "  Yes,  yes,"  returned 
Angerstoff, "  he  never  shallleave  the 
vessel ;  he  had  as  well  take  care,  lest 
I  do  to  him  what  I  did  to — "  "  To 
Morvalden,  I  suppose  you  mean," 
said  I.  "  Well,  well^  speak  it  out," 
replied  he  ferociously  ;  "  there  is  no 
one  here  to  listen  to  your  damnable 
falsehoods,  and  I'll  not  be  fool 
enough  to  give  you  an  opportunity 
of  uttering  then!  elsewhere.  I'll 
strangle  you  the  next  time  you  tell 
these  lies  about^ — "  "  Come,"'  in- 
terrupted Marietta,  "  don't  be  un- 
easy; the  boat  will  soon  be  far 
enough  away.  If  he  wants  to  give 
you  the  slip  he  must  leap  overboard." 
,  I  was  irritated  and  disappointed 
beyond  measure  at  the  failure  of  the 
plan  of  escape  I  had  ♦  formed,  but 
thought  it  most  prudent  to  conceal 
my  feelings.  I  now  i>erceived  the 
rashness  and  bad  consequences  of 
my  bold  assertions  respecting  the 
murder  of  Morvalden ;  for  Anger- 
stoff evidently  thought  that  his  per- 
sonal safety,  and  even  his  life,  would 
be  endangered,  if  I  ever  foimd  an 
opportunity  of  accusing  and  giving 
evidence  against  him.  All  my 
motions  were  now  watched  with 
double  vigilance.  Marietta  and  her 
paramour  kept  upon  deck  by  turns 
during  the  whole  day,  and  the  latter 
looked  over  the  surrounding  ocean, 
through  a  glass,  at  intervals,  to  dis- 
cover if  any  boat  or  vessel  was  ap- 
proaching us.  He  often  muttered 
threats  as  he  walked  past  me,  f>nd, 
more  than  once,  seemed  waiting  for 

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no 


MISCELtANJBOUt. 


an  opportnnity  to  push  me  over- 
board. Marietta  and  he  frequently 
whispered  together,  and  I  always 
imagined  I  heard  my  name  mention- 
ed in  the  course  of  these  conversa- 
tions. 

I  now  felt  completely  miserable, 
being  satisfied  that  Angerstoffwas 
bent  upon  my  destruction.  I  wander- 
ed, in  a  state  of  fearful  circumspec- 
tion, from  one  part  of  the  vessel  to 
the  other,  not  knowing  how  to  se- 
cure myself  from  his  designs.  Ev- 
ery time  he  approached  me,  my 
heart  palpitated  dreadfully ;  and 
when  night  came  on,  I  was  agonized 
with  terror,  aud  could  not  remain  in 
one  spot,  but  hurried  backwards  and 
forwards  between  the  cabin  and  tlie 
deck,  looking  wildly  from  side  to 
side,  and  momentarily  expecting  to 
feel  a  cold  knife  entering  my  vitals. 
My  forehead  began  to  bum,  and  my 
eyes  dazzled ;  I  became  acutely 
sensitive,  and  the  slightest  murmur, 
or  the  faintest  breath  of  wind,  set 
my  whole  frame  in  a  state  of  uncon- 
trollable vibration.  At  first,  I  some 
times  thought  of  throwing  myself  in- 
to the  sea ;  but  I  soon  acquired  such 
an  intense  feeUng  of  existentie,  that 
the  mere  idea  of  death  was  horrible 
to  me. 

Shortly  afler  midnight  I  lay  down 
in  my  birth,  almost  exhausted  by  the 
harrowing  emotions  that  had  career- 
ed tlireugh  my  mind  during  the  past 
day.  I  felt  a  strong  desire  to  sleep, 
yet  dared  not  indulge  myself;  soul 
and  body  seemed  at  war.  Every 
noise  excited  my  imagination,  and 
scarcely  a  minute  passed,  in  the 
course  of  which  I  did  not  start  up, 
and  look  around.  Angerstoff  paced 
the  deck  overhead,  and  when  the 
sound  of  his  footsteps  accidentally 
ceased  at  any  time,  I  grew  deadly 
sick  at  heart,  expectmg  tliat  he  was 
silently  coming  to  murder  me.  At 
length  I  thought  I  heard  some  one 
near  my  bed  ;  I  sprung  from  it,  and, 
having  seized  a  bar  of  iron  that  lay 
on  the  floor,  rushed  into  the  cabm. 


I  found  AngerstofTthere^  who  started 
back  when  he  saw  me,  and  said, 
'<  What  is  the  matter  ?  Did  you 
think  that — ^I  want  yon  to  watch  the 
beacon^  that  I  may  have  some  rest. 
Follow  me  upon  deck,  and  I  will 
give  you  directions  about  it"  .  I 
hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  went 
up  the  gangway  stairs  behind  him. 
We  walked  forward  to  the  mast  to- 
gether, and  he  showed  how  I  was  to 
lower  the  lantern  when  any  of  tlie 
lamps  happened  to  go  out,  and  bid- 
ding me  bdware  of  sleep,  returned  to 
the  cabin.  Most  of  my  fears  forsook 
me  the  moment  he  disappeared.  I 
felt  nearly  as  happy  as  if  I  had  been 
set  at  liberty,  and,  for  a  time,  for^t 
that  my  situation  had  any  thing 
painful  or  alarming  connected  with 
it  Angerstoff  resumed  hb  station 
in  about  three  hours,  and  I  again 
took  refuge  in  my  birth,  where  I  en- 
joyed a  short,  but  undisturbed  sluoi* 
ber. 

[To  be  conchtded.] 

WASHINGTON  THE  GREAT. 
The  following  article  is  copied 
from  a  late  English  publication.  It 
goes  not  only  to  show,  that  what 
are  termed  mere  accidents  by  the 
world  in  general,  are  frequently  de- 
signed by  a  wise,  and  overrulisg 
Providence,  to  bring  about  the  most 
important  events,  both  to  nations, 
and  tq  individuals,  but  plainly  ex- 
emplifies, tlie  high  respect  in  which 
the  character  of  Washington  u  held, 
in  various  parts  of  the  world. 

Washington's  Ancestors, — In  the 
complicated  and  marvellous  ma- 
chinery of  circumstances,  it  is  abso- 
lutely impossible  to  decide  what 
would  liave  happened,  as  to  some 
events,  if  the  slightest  disturbance 
had  taken  place,  in  the  march  of 
those  ih^precededthemMe  may  ob- 
serve a  little  dirty  wheel  of  brass,  spin- 
Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MISCCIXANEOUS. 


Ill 


tiing  round  upon  its  greasy  axle,  and 
the  result  is,  that  in  another  apart- 
ment, many  yards  distant  from  it, 
a  beautiful  piece  of  silk  issues  (jcotn 
a  loom,  rivalling  in  its  hues  the  tints 
of  the  rainbow ;  there  are  myriads 
of  events  in  our  lives,  the  distance 
between  which  was  much  greater 
than  that  between  this  wheel,  and  the 
ribbon,  but  where  the  coimection 
had  been  much  more  close.  If  a 
private  country  gentleman'  in  Che- 
shire, about  the  year  seventeen  hun- 
dred and  thirty,  had  not  been  over- 
turned in  his  carriage,  it  is  extreme- 
ly probable  that  America,  instead  of 
being  a  iVee  republic  at  this  moment, 
would  have  continued  a  dependent 
colony  of  England.  This  country 
gentleman  happened  to  be  Augustus 
'  Washington  Esquire,  who  was  thus 
accidentally  ihroum  into  the  compa- 
ny of  a  lady  who  ailerwards  became 
his  wife,  who  emigrated  with  him  to 
America,  and  in  the  year  seventeen 
hundred  and  thirty-two,  at  Virginia, 
became  the  envied  mother  to  George 
Washington  the  great. 


Foa  fax  ^1a8oi?ic  Rsgistsk. 
TO  MARY. 
There  is  an  eye  of  radiant  blue, 
Beaming  in  light  of  heaven's  own  huCf 
When  a  single  star  is  beaming  dowO) 
The  star  that  gems  chaste  Dian's  crown. 

There  is  a,  cheek  of  radiant  flushy 
'Tis  like  young  morning's  earliest  blash^ 
When  somoier  smi  chines  bright  and  fair, 
And  angel  tonus  are  hovering  there. 

Thine  is  the  eye^nd  thine  the  cheek. 
So  beauteous  bright,  so  mildly  meek. 
That  like  the  rainbow's  lovely  grace, 
^o  art  can  reach,  do  pencil  trace. 

For  the  MAtoitic  Resistsr. 
TO  MARY. 
^'O  lady  mine,**  preserve  unbroken, 

The  tender  ties  of  unity, 
And  I  will  never  need  a  token, 
To  bid  my  soul  remember  thee.  • 


What  though  we  have  so  seldom  met, 
What  though  we  ne'er  may  meet  agaia, 

Through  years  of  sad,  yet  fond  regret 
My  bosom  shall  thy  form  retain. 

Then  "  lady  mine,"  take  back  the  ring, 
I  need  no  pledge  to  make  me  blest. 

No  talisman,  no  spell  to  bring, 
Thpught  that  can  never  be  exprest, 

Since  whatso'er's  my  future  lot, 
Believe  me  thou'tt  be  ne'er  forgot- 

^         RATIONAL  LOVE. 

We  know  the  power  of  beauty ; 
but  to  render  it  permanent,  and  make 
human  life  happy  and  agreeable,  it 
must  have  the  beauties  of  the  mind 
annexed,  for,  as  doctor  Blair  very 
justly  observes, "  Feeble  are  the  at- 
tractions of  the  fairest  form,  ii 
nothing  within  corresponds  to  the 
pleasing  appearance  without.  Love 
and  marriage  are  two  vords  much 
spoken  of,  but  seldom  found  united. 
To  be  happy  in  the  choice  of  the 
fair  one  we  admire,  is  to  cultivate 
that  regard  we  experience  for  her, 
into  lasting  esteem.  The  connubial 
state  was  certainly  designed  to  heigh- 
ten the  joys,  and  to  alleviate  tlie 
miseries  of  mortality.  To  cherish 
and  admire  her,  who  came  into  your 
arms,  the  object  of  joy  and  pleasure; 
and  to  comfort  the  same  dear  object 
of  your  affection,  when  the  clouds  of 
adversity  surround  her.  Happy 
within  yourself,  and  happy  in  your 
connections,  you  ought  to  look  up 
to  the  Author  of  all  good  gifts,  and 
to  give  him  praise  in  the  liveliest 
hour  of  social  enjoyment.'^  What 
avails  all  the  pleasure  of  this  sublu- 
nary state,  if,  when  we  shifl  the  flat- 
tering scene,  the  man  is  unhappy, 
where  happiness  should  begin,  at 
home  /  An  iminterrupted  interchange 
of  mutual  endearments,  among  those 
of  the  family,  imparts  more  solid 
satisfaction,  than  outward  show,  with 
inward  uneasiness.  Love  is  a  ten- 
der, and  delicate  plant ;  it  must  be 
guarded  from  all  inclement  blasts^ 


or  it  will 


droop  its  head  and  die. 

digitized  byVTOOgie 


To 


112 


VI8€CLtANSOU8. 


enliven  our  bours,  to  pasi  our  life 
agreeably^  let  us  enrich  our  menta! 
soil;  for  this  joined  with  love,  will 
forever  adorn  this  happy  state.  A 
young  lady,  being  asked  her  opinion 
of  love,  said,  ^^  If  youth  and  beauty 
are  the  objects  of  your  regard,  lovcy 
founded  on  youth  and  beauty,  can- 
not possibly  endure  longer  than 
youth  and  beauiy  last.  Love  should 
be  sincere  and  generous,  as  Heaven 
first  inspired  it,  and  courtship  voi4 
of  mean  dissimulation.  But  love, 
at  ill  is  time  of  day,  is  raising  the  im- 
agination to  expectation  above  na- 
ture, and  laying  tiie  sure  foundation 
of  disappointment,  on  both  sides, 
when  flymen  shiits  the  scene.'- 
Love  tlien,  according  to  this  amiable 
•^oung  lady's  opmion,  is  a  passion 
founded  on  esteem.  A  sincere  re- 
gard for  tlie  object  of  our  aifections, 
joined  with  a  love  the  most  pure,  ra- 
*tional^  and  dignified. 

DR.  HERSCHEL. 

Dr.  Herschel,  the  celebrated  as- 
tronomer, was  originally  brought  uj 
■  to  his  father's  profession^  that  of  a 
musician,  and  accompanied  a  Ger- 
man regiment  to  England,  as  one  oi 
the  band,  performing  on  the  haul- 
boy.  VVliiie  acting  m  this  humble 
capacity  in  the  North  of  England. 
a  new  organ  was  built  for  the  parish 
church  of  Halifax,  by  Snetzler, 
which  was  opened  with  an  oratorio, 
by  the  well-known  Joah  Bates.  Mr. 
Herschel,  and  six  other  persons,  be- 
4pame  candida,tes  for  the  organist^s 
situation.  A  day  was  fixed  on  whicli 
each  was  to  perform  in  rotation; 
when  Mr.  Wainwright,  of  Manches 
t«r,  played,  his  finger  was  so  rapid 
that  old  Snetzler,  the  organ-builder, 
ran  about  the  church,  exclaiming, 
*^'  He  run  over  de  key  like  one  cat : 
he  %^  not  give  my  pipes  time  to 
speak." 

Duiing  Mr.  Wainwright's  per- 
formance, Dr.  Miller,  the  friend  of 
Herschel,  inquired    of  him   what 


chance  he  had  of  following  lum  ? 
'^  I  don't  know,"  said  Hencfad, 
^  but  I  am  sure  fingers  will  not  do.^ 
When  it  came  to  hit  turn,  Herschel 
ascended  the  organ  ioA,  and  pro- 
duced so  unconmion  a  richness,  sueh 
a  vohime  of  slow  harmony  as  aston- 
ished all  present ;  and  after  this  ex- 
temporaneous efiusion  he  finished 
with  the  old  hundredth  Psalm,  which 
he  played  better  than  hit  opponent. 
»<  Ay,  ay,"  cries  old  Snetzler^ "  tish 
is  very  goot,  very  goot  inteet ;  I  will 
luf  tish  man,  he  gives  my  pipes  room 
for  to  Apeak." 

Herschel  being  asked  by  what 
means  he  produced  so  astomihing 
an  effect,  replied,  ^  I  told  you  An- 
gers would  not  do  it ;"  and  producing 
two  pieces  of  lead  frtmi  his  waistcoat 
pocket,  said,  ^  One  of  these  I  laid 
on  the  lowest  key  of  the  organ,  and 
the  other  upon  the  octave  abo\'e$ 
and  thus,  by  accomraodatmg  the 
harmony,  I  produced  the  efiect  of 
four  hands  instead  of  two."  This 
superiority  of  skill  obtained  Her- 
schel the  situation;  but  he  had 
o^her  and  higher  objects  in  view,  to 
sufier  him  long  to  retam  it.  Per.  jhu 

AGRICULTURAL. 

A  new  Method  of  heading  Cabbages 
in  tJue  Winter. 
Last  fall,  at  the  usual  tune  oftidc- 
ing  in  cabbages,  I  had  a  number 
well  grown,  but  had  no  appearance 
of  a  head.  I  dug  a  trench  on  the 
southern  declivity  of  a  hill,  about 
eighteen  inches  wide,  and'tw^ty  or 
twenty-two  inches  ^eep,  and  took 
eighty-six  cabbager  of  the  abov« 
description,  and  set  them  out  in  the 
bottom  of  the  trench,  in  their  natural 
position,  with  the  roots  well  covered 
with  sand  :  I  tlien  filled  the  trench 
with  straw  on  each  side  of  the  cab- 
bages, and  laid  straw  over  the  tops 
of  them,  to  prevent  the  sand  firmn 
getting  in ;  then  placed  a  rail  ovqt 
the  middle  of  the  trench,  to  prevent 
any  pressure  on  the  cabbages,  and 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


tkcn  completed  the  work  by  throw- 
in^  on  more  straw,  and  forming  a 
ridge  of  sand  overthe  whole,  to  keep 
out  frost  and  water.  In  the  latter 
part  of  March,  I  opened  the  ir^ach 
and  took  out  the  cabbages,  and 
found  each  one  with  a  common  sized 
head,  white,  solid,  and  well  tasted. 

Anon. 


From  a  late   English  publication. 
PEVEREL  OF  THE  PEAK. 

This  till*  has  been  nnnounced  in 
the  Edinburi^h  Magazines  as  that  nf 
the  Novel  which  is  to  succeed  the 
Fortunes  of  Nigel,  by  the  author  of 
Wkverly. 

•        •        •        • 

From  a  recent  visit  to  this  spot,  we 
are  prepared  to  enjoy  with  delight 
any  fine  descriptioos  of  its  bold  and 
UBUsua^  landscapes.  The  rude  aod 
frightful  htUs,  opening  into  ihe  most 
|]Osu>ral  valleys  (such  as  the  vale  of 
Castleton^  which  stretches  from  the 
Shivering  Mam-Tor  ail  alon^  beneath 
the  ruins-  of  the  Peak  Castle),  aod 
watered  by  lovely  streams,  such  as 
the  Wye,  the  Dove,  and  the  Derwent, 
do  not  prevent  external  feat lure^  more 
worthy  of  the  pen  of  Waverly,  than 
do  the  internal  wonders  of  this  extra- 
ordinary region.  The  Peak-cavern 
is  in  itself  an  inestimable  treasure  ; 
for  imagination  could  not  conceive  a 
place  more  suited  to  a  tale  of  feudal 
romance,  and  ruthless  assassination. 
Tins  tiemendous  excavation  is  7^0 
yards  in  Jetigth,  its  entrauce  the  most 
grand  and  soldhn  that  fancy  could 
devise,  under  an  impending  canopy  of 
a  huge  rocky  arch.  Soon  is  the  li^ht 
of  day  lost  in  its  recesses ;  subterra- 
neous streams  are  passed,  and  alter- 
nately we  wind  along  low-roofed  and 
rugged  passages,  dripping  caves,  and 
spacious  domes,  possessing  more  than 
cathedral  magnitude,  and  more  than 
Gothic  gloom.  But  not  only  this  ca- 
vern, but  the  whole  of  the  Peak  of 
Derby,  must  be  seed  to  have  the  ef- 


vni-  itL 


MISCELLANEOCS.  11^ 

fects  upon  the  mind  appreciated.-*^ 
We  never  spent  a  fortnight  of  more 
unmlngled  gratification  than  in  ma- 
king a  tour  of  this  remarkable  region; 
and  at  this  season  of  the  year,  when 
such  excursions  are  so  generally  ta- 
ken, we  are  sure  no  recommendation 
of  ours  could  lead  to  a  greater  gratifi- 
cation than  that  of  a  visit  to  the  Peak 
of  Derby.  The  natural  beauty  and 
stalactytical  caves  of  Matlock;  the 
druidical  remains  of  Robin  Hood's 
Leap,  and  a^acent  Moor ;  the  Rock- 
ing Stones,  of  many  tons  weight,  mo- 
ved by  a  finger ;  the  exploration  of 
Mines ;  the  ancient  baronial  edifice  of 
(iaddon  Hall ;  the  more  modem 
splendour  of  Chatsworth ;  the  delights 
of  Bakewell ;  the  wonders  of  Castle* 
ton  and  its  vicinage ;  the  ebbing  and 
flowing  Well ;  and  Buxton,  with  all 
its  attractions— ^re  witblathe  scope 
of  ten  day's  enjoyment — and  we-wiU 
venture  to  say  that  there  is  no  district 
of  the  same  extent  in  Europe,  which 
ofiers  greater  attractions  to  the  curious 
of  every  class.  But  our  recollected 
admiration  of  these  scenes  has  divert- 
ed us  from  Peverel  of  the  Peak,  to 
whose  ruined  waUs  we  paid  a  length- 
ened visit,  examining  thehr  ancient  re- 
mains with  the  utmost  interest.  The 
Saxon  Herring-bone  still  exists  in  the 
wall  of  the  Keep.  The  balliom  and 
its  two  square  turrets  are  in  good  pre- 
servation ^  one  of  the  latter  inhabited 
by  a  person  who  keeps  the  4)lace.-~ 
The  zig''9K  ds<^^t  from  Castleton  on 
the  east  side,  though  you  see  the  Cas- 
tle on  the  lop  of  the  hill,  is  hardly 
practicable  without  a  guide,  and  very 
laborous.  %f^  the  summit  would  re- 
pay a  hundred  times  the  toil.  To  the 
south  the  sight  reposes  on  the  sweet 
vale  af«Castleton.  The  west  is  comr 
manded  by  higher  mountains,betweeii 
which  and  the  Peak,  runs  a  deep  ra- 
vine, whose  side  towards  the  Castle  is 
a  perfect  precipice.  On  the  north 
and  north-east  are  seen  the  striking 
outlets  from  this  hill-surrounding 
scene,  and  the  famous  Mam-Tor^ 
whose  srplintery  rocks  often  descend 


y^ 


X14 


tflSCSLLANEOirS. 


with  a  Yoice  of  thunder  into  the  valley 
below. 

Such  i$the  seat  of  the  once  mighty 
famll\  of  the  PevereU  and  their  histo- 
ry offered  to  the  hand  of  the  Northern 
JVla^iciaa  ;  who  if  he  resemble  c»ther 
Magicians,  will  find  here  every  mate- 
rial for  enchantment,  from  the  terrific 
caverns  of  Gnomt^s  or  Banditti, to  tlie 
loveliest  scenes  of  nature  in  the  midst 
of  lier  more  awful  forms,  the  roisi-co 
vered  hill,  and  stormy  uf»per  peak  ; 
and  for  his  human  pictures  all  thr 
wildness  and  feudal  grandeur  of 
those  times  when  the  Baron's  Keep 
rung  to  the  Bard's  song  ;  his  walls, 
filled  with  savage  retainers,  display- 
ed roaooers  and  customs  well  worth 
the  preserving  record  of  such  a  lim- 
ner;'and  his  female  companions,  his 
family.,  his  friends,  and  his  foes,  bor* 
a  stamp  and  impress  so  peculiar. 
as  to  be  susceptible  of  being  wrouffhi 
Into  the  t:ipestry  of  fiction  with  all  \|ie 
fidelity,  spirit,  and  interest  of  ivanhoe. 

From  the  Haverhill  Gazette. 

THE  CREATION. 

We  select  the  following  eloquent 
paragraph  from  the  Sermons  of  Dr. 
Worcester,  now  in  press.  Every 
thing  from  the  pen  of  this  great  man, 
^  whose  praise  is  in  all  the  churches,'' 
must  possess  a  commanding  interest. 
But  his  writings  need  not  the  influence 
of  his  name,  to  secure  a  cordial  recep- 
tion trom  the  public.  Eiiry  page  is 
marked  with  a  richness  of  illustration, 
and  elegance  of  language^  which  must 
gratify  the  taste,  while  the  resistless 
voice  of  truth  sways  4be  conscience. 

"  Carry  back  your  contemplations, 
my  brethren,  lathis  scene  of  wonders. 
The  immensity  of  space,  an  immea- 
surable void;  not  a  being,  not  a  thing 
existing,  besides  him,  who  inhabiteth 
eternity.  In  a  moment,  at  his  word, 
the  inmiense  mass  of  unformed  mat- 
ter htarts  into  beuig.  Suns,  and  stars, 
aod  planets,  are  formed,  and  fixed  in 
their  stations^  or  launched  into  their 


orbits,  to  nm  their  appointed  courses 
in  perpetual  circuit  through  the  he»- 
vens.   From  primeval  darkness,  tigbC 
bursts  forth  to  cheer  the  new  creation. 
The  faith  is  enriched  and  adorned 
with  all  the  treasures  and  tieauties  of 
the  mineral  and  vegetable  kingdoms, 
i^he  diamond  glitters  hi  ito  bed  ;  the 
biUs  are  clothad  with  grass,  and  the 
valleys  with  corn ;  the  lily  and  the 
rose  unfold  their  beauties  to  the  day  ; 
and  the  fruit  tree  and  the  vine  present    ' 
iheir  rich,  thehr  delicious  products.—— 
The  air,  the  earth,  and  the  waters,are 
peopled  with  numberless  spedes  of 
animal  and  sensitive  beiQgs  ;  birds^ 
insects,  beasts,  and  fishes,  of  every 
description.     Last  of  all,  man  comas 
from  his  Maker's  hand,  as  lord  of  this 
lower  creation ;  looks  round  in  plead- 
ing astonishment;   surveys  the  shi- 
lling heavens,  and  the  beaudfvlly  vs- 
I  legated  earth,  all  finished  in  pcrfec- 
ti<m :  then  turns,  as  by  divine  inspira- 
tion directed,  axid  adores  the  mighty 
power  which  created  and  arranged  tbe 
stupendous  whole.    Contemplate  tfab 
amasing  work,  and  say,  does  not  the 
svstem  of  nature  declare  the  power  of 
(liod  ?     What  power,  short  of  infi- 
nite, could  create  a  single  particle  of 
matter  ?    What  shall  we  think,  thee, 
of  the  creation  of  worlds  ?     What 
power,  short  of  hifinite,  coold  form 
the  meanest  insect  ?      What,  then, 
shall  we  think  of  the  formation  of  the 
whole  magnificent  and  onmeasured 
universe  ?     We  are  overwhelmed,  we 
are  lost  in  the  contemplation  V* 

FL0AT15G  A€?|IC0LTORE. 

Delos,  the  birth  place  of  ApoHo, 
was  stated  to  have  been  a  floatii^ 
island.  Mexico,  a  country  *  ith  which 
we  shall  be  better  acquainted,  pre- 
sents us  witli  such  phenomena. '  The 
city  exhibits  this  wonderful  spectacle. 
I  lie  natives  take  the  roou  of  marsh 
plants,  bushes,  and  other  l^t  mate- 
rials, and  form  a  sort  of  lattice  work 
by  twisting  them  firmly  together. — 
Having  ^|i?dG^  platform,  they 


I^SCXLLANkOUS* 


115 


spread  upon  the  surface  the  mud 
Vhich  they  draw  from  tht»  bottom  o: 
thi*  lake ;  they  are  commonly  nia<ie 
10  a  quadrangular  shape,  8  rods  lone 
and  3  wide,  elevated  to  the  height  of 
a  foot  from  the  surface  of  the  water 
On  these  they  cultivate  every  species 
of  flower  and  the  garden  herbs,  live- 
ry day  of  the  year,  at  sutu-ise,  innu- 
merable boats  are  seen  loaded 
with  the  productions  of  these  floating 
gardens  arriving  at  Mexico.  In  the 
largest  are  found  small  trees,  and  ca- 
bins of  light  workmanship  for  the 
owner.  When  he  wishes  to  change 
his  neighborhood,  the  owner  and  hiN 
friends  take  to  their  boats,  and  tow 
away  the  real  estate  to  any  part  of 
the  lake  he  thinks  proper.  These 
gardens  are  places  of  delightful  re- 
creation— nH)ving  messes  of  bloom 
and  beauty,  and  song  and  fragrance 
BaUimore  M,  Chrmucle. 

ON  MARRIAGE. 
Woman,  in  the  hour  of  adversity, 
and  when  the  sorrows  and  cares  of 
this  life  are  gathering  around,  and 
spreading  a  gloom  over  our  path, 
shines  with  resplendent  lustre,  if  found 
supporting  and  cheering,  with  angel- 
like patience,  the  partner  of  her  mis- 
fortunes. 'Tis  then  we  are  led  to 
wonder  how  so  delicate  a  form,  pos- 
sessed of  suclracute  sensibilities,  can 
support,  and  sometimes  stem,  the 
torrent  of  such  "  a  tide  of  woes,"  as 
not  unfrequently  has  driven  man, 
clothed  in  the  boasted  armour  of  phi- 
losophy, to  the  last  act  of  desperation 
he  can  possibly  commit ;  that  is,  rush- 
ing in  the  face  of  Heaven,  blackened 
as  a  self-murderer. 

View  those  solitary,  isolated  beings, 
who  live,  as  they  call  it,  independent, 
and  never  enjoy  the  pleasure  that 
flows  from  social  life,  who  prAr  to 
lounge  away  their  leisure  hours  in  the 
Mansion- House,  or  some  other  place 
of  fashionable  resort,  to  spending  them 
111  the  society  of  the  softer^  virtuous 


spx  Tliey  know  nothing  either  of  a 
husband's  care,  or  parent's  anxiety 
tor  his  oflspring's  welfare.  The  finer 
-ensibilities  of  the  soul,  and  tender 
emotiuBs  which  swell  the  bosom  of 
(he  truly  happy,  are  lo  them  either 
unknown,  buried  in  the  rubbish  of  per 
ventage,  overgrown  with  the  brush* 
woiKi  or  brambles  of  "  book-learned 
skill  ;^  or,  perhaps,  their  stifl*necked 
pride  is  wounded  by  that  woe  of 
woes,  the  "  pangs  of  love  despised." 

The  pen  of  the  poet  has  furnished 
(is  with  many  examples  of  domestic 
comfort  aud  happiness.  I  know  of 
no  better  eflusion  on  this  delighti|l 
theme,  than  Burns'  "Cotter's  Sat^ 
day  Night,"  or  that  beautiful  little 
poem  of  Cotter's,  beginning  with 
*'  Dear  Cloe,"  &c.  Such  pieces  as 
these,  can  give  us  but  faint  ideas  of 
what  It  is  to  be  seated  m  a  snug 
apartment,  surrounded  by  one's  own 
family,  drinking  a  glass  of  good  cider, 
and  passing  the  hours  with  teaching 
the  little  ones  to  lisp  the  praises  of 
their  Creator,  even  when  articulation 
is  imperfectly  understood. 

I  cordially  agree  with  Franklin,  in 
l>elieviDg  early  marriages  to  be  moat 
productive  of  happiness.  Thepas* 
sions,  inclinations,  and  feelings,  in 
youth,  are  easier  moulded  to  the  pro- 
pensities of  the  individaal  who  may 
be  our  partner. 

To  the  rich  in  worldly  goods,  I 
would  say,  marry,  if  you  wish  your 
wealth  to  become  a  blessing  ;  and  to 
those  whase  happy  lot  it  is  to  earn  the 
bread  of  industry,  i  would  repeat  the 
same — marry,  and  enjoy  life  while  it 
lasts ;  to  old  bachelors-— 'tis  needless 
to  repeat  the  word — 1  again  say,  re- 
pent and  marry. 

If  these  remarks,  or  hints,  should 
afford  the  thoughtful  mind  one  good 
idea,  give  theunthinkipgone  hint  tow- 
ards reformation,  or  even  drdwasmile 
from  the  grave  and  sensorious,  then 
the  writer  will  think  nimself  amply 
rewarded. 

SOLITAIRE^ 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


llff 


HISCELIiAKEOUS^ 


HINTS  ON  EARLY  EDUCATION. 

Truth  and  Sincerity. 

'  Nothing,  prrhaps;  is  more  beauti- 
ful, or  more  rare,  thnn  a  character  in 
which  is  no  guile.  Guile  insinuates 
itself  into  oar  hearts  and  conduct  to 
a  degree  of  which  we  are  little  aware. 
Many  who  would  be  shocked  at  an 
tictaal  breach  of  truih,  are  notwith- 
standi!^,  far  from  sincere  in  manner 
or  eonversation.  The  mode  in  which 
th^j  speak  of  others  when  absent,  is 
wholly  inconsistent  with  their  profes- 
sions to  them,  when  present.  The^ 
iHi  relate  a  fact,  not  falsely,  but  lean- 
h^  to  that  side  which  tells  best  foi 
themselves,  they  represent  their  own 
actions  in  the  fairest  colours;  they 
have  an  excuse  ever  ready  for  them- 
selves, and  too  often  at  the  expense 
of  others.  Such  conduct,  if  not  co- 
ming under  the  character  of  direct 
Iklsehood,  is  certainly  a  species  of  de- 
ceit, to  be  severely  condemned,  and 
strictly  guarded  against,  not  only  in 
ourselves,  but  in  our  children ;  for  we 
shall  find  them  ^arly  prone  to  art, 
and  quick  in  imbibing  it  from  others. 
It  h  not  enough,  therefore  to  speak 
the  truth,  our  whole  behaviour  to 
them  should  be  sincere,  upright,  fair, 
and  without  artifice ;  and  it  is  e*pe 
rience  alone  fliat  can  prove  the  excel- 
lent effects  that  will  result  from  such 
ti  course  of  conduct.  Let  all  who  are 
engaged  in  the  care  of  children,  con- 
sider it  a  duty  of  primary,  of  essential 
importance,  never  to  deceive  them 
never  to  employ  cunning  to  gain  their 
ends,  or  to  spare  present  trouble.  Let 
them  not  for  instance,  to  prevent  a  fit 
of  crying,  excite  expectations  of  a 
pleasure  which  they  are  sot  certain 
can  be  produced ;  or  assure  a  child 
that  the  medicine  he  must  take  is  nice, 
when  they  know  to  the  contrary.  If 
a  question  be  asked  them  which  they 
are  unwilling  or  unable  to  answer,  let 
them  freely  confess  it  and  beware  of 
assuming  power  or  knowledge  which 
they  do  not  possess,  for  all  artifice  is 
•not  only  sinful,  but  is  generally  de- 


tected eten  by  childretl ;  and  we  shall 
experience  the  truth  of  the  old  pro- 
verb, <<  a  cunning  trick  helps  but  once, 
and  hinders  ever  after."  No  one  who 
is  not  experimentally  acquainted  with 
children,,  would  conceive  how  clearlj 
thfy  distingutsb  between  trutb  and 
artifice ;  or  bow  readily  tbt?y  adopt 
those  equivocal  expedients,  in  their 
own  behalf,  which  they  perceive,  are 
practised  against  them. 

Great  caution  is  required  ianakisg 
promises,  and  in  tbreatcning  punish* 
roent,  but  we  must  be  rigid  io  the  per- 
formance of  the  one,  and  in  the  inflic- 
tion of  the  other.  If  for  esampie, 
we  assure  a  child  uoconditionalljr, 
that  after  his  lessons,  he  shall  have  a 
top,  or  a  ball,  no  subsequent  ill  beha* 
viour  on  his  part  should  induce  us  to 
deprive  him  of  it.  Nai>fbty  or  good, 
the  top  must  be  his ;  and  if  it  be  ne- 
cessary to  punisli  him,  we  most  do  it 
in  some  other  way  than  by  breach  of 
engagement.  For  our  word  o«cc 
poisedy  mu8t  ndt  be  broken. 

HOW  TO  ESCAPE  THE  TORTURE. 
Several  soldiers  of  Montgotnery's 
Highland  regiment  were  taken  prison- 
ers by  the  American  Indians.  Allen 
iMacpherson,  one  of  them,  witnessed 
the  miserable  fate  of  his  fellows,  who 
had  been  tortured  to  death  by  the  In- 
dians, and  seeing  them  preparing  to 
commence  the  same  operations  upon 
himself,  made  signs  that  be  had  soID^ 
thing  to  communicate.  Aointerpfrtcr 
Was  brouglit.  Macpherson  told  them 
that  provided  his  lifie  was  spared  a 
few  minutes,  he  would  commnnicate 
the  secret  of  an  extraordinary  medi- 
cine,' which  if  applied  to  the  skin, 
would  cause  it  to  resist  the  strongest 
blow  of  a  tomahawk  or  sword,  and 
that  if  they  would  allow  him  to  go  to 
the  woods  with  a  guard,  to  collect  the 
plants  proper  for  this  medicine,  he 
would  prepare  it,  and  allow  theex- 
•periment  to  be  tried  on  his-own  neck, 
by  the  strongest  and  most  expert  war- 
rior amongst  them.  This  story  «wy 
gained  upon  the/SUDersli^iouscredtf 


'  Jigitized 


fyCmgf^ 


MncMLiijatovt. 


117 


t 


Ijty  of  the  Indians,  and  the  request  of 
the  ftiighlander  was  immediately  com 
plied  viith.  Being  sent  into  th^ 
woods,  he  soon  returned  with  such 
plants  as  he  chose  to  pick  up.  Ha- 
ving boiled  these  herbs,  he  rubbed  his 
neck  with  their  juice,  and  laying  his 
head  on  a  log  of  wood,  desired  tht* 
strongest  man  among  them  to  strike 
at  his  neck  with  his  tomahawk,  when 
he  would  find  that  he  could  not  make 
the  smallest  impression  !  An  Indian, 
level! jng  a  blow  with  all  his  might, 
cut  with  «uch  force,  that  the  bead  flew 
off  to  the  distance  of  several  yards. 
The  Indians  were  fixed  in  amazement 
at  their  own  credulity,  and  the  addres^ 
which  the  prisoner  had  escaped  the 
lingering  death  prepared  for  him  : 
but  instead  of  being  enraged  at  this 
escape  of  their  victim,  they  were  so 
pleased  with  his  ingenuity^  that  they 
refrained  from  the  inflicting  fbrther 
cruelties  on  the  remainder  of  the  pri- 
soners,— Stewart^ 8  Sketches, 


INDIAN  HOSPITALITY. 

The  following  story  as  related  by 
Conrad  Weiser,  an  interpreter  of  the 
Indian  language,  a  considerable  time 
anterior  to  the  American  revolution, 
is  copied  from  doctor  Franklin's  Es- 
says. The  contrast  between  the  hos- 
pitality of  the  original  natives  of  thin 
country,  and  its  present  "  civilized  in- 
habitants," is  strikingly  portrayed  by 
the  "  Savage"  Canassetego,  both  in 
Us  treatment  to  Weiser,  and  his  rela- 
tion of  his  journey  to  Albany. 

Conrad  Weiser  had  been  natural- 
ized among  the  Six  Nations,  and  spoke 
well  the  Mohuck  language.  In  going 
through  the  Indian  country,  to  carry 
a  message  from  the  governor  to  the 
cotmcil  at  Onondaga^  he  called  at 
the  habitation  of  CanaBsetegof  an  old 
acquaintance,  who  embraced  him. 
spread  furs  for  him  to  sit  on,  placed 
before  him  some  boiled  beans  and  ve- 


nison, and  mixed  some  mm  and  wa- 
ter for  his  drink.  When  he  was  well 
refreshed,  and  had  lit  his  pipe,  Canas- 
setego began  to  converse  with  him  : 
asked  him  how  he  had  fared  the  many 
years  since  th?y  had  se^n  each  other, 
whence  he  then  came,  what  occasion- 
ed the  journey,  &c  Conrad  answer- 
ed all  his  questions;  and  when  the 
discourse  began  to  flag,  the  Indian, 
to  continue  it,  said,  "  Conrad,  you 
have  lived  long  among  the  white  peo- 
ple, and  know  something  of  their  cus- 
toms :  I  have  been  sometimes  at  Al- 
l)any,  and  have  observed,  that  once 
m  seven  days  they  shut  up  their  shops, 
and  assemble  all  in  the  great  house ; 
tell  me  what  it  is  for?  What  do 
I  hey  do  there  ?"  "  They  meet  there," 
says  Conrad,  '<  to  hear  and  learn  good 
Ihings,^^  "  I  do  not  doubt,"  says  the 
Indian,  **  that  they  tell  you  so,  they 
have  told  me  the  seme :  hot  I  doubt 
the  truth  of  what  they  say,  and  I  will 
tell  vou  my  reasons.  I  went  lately  to 
Albany  to  sell  my  skins  and  buy 
blankets,  knives,  powder,  rum,  &c. 
You  know  I  used  generally  to  deal 
with  Hans  Hanson ;  but  I  was  a  liule 
mclined  this  time  to  try  some  other 
merchants.  However,  I  called  fiist 
upon  Hans,  and  asked  him  what  he 
viould  give  for  beaver.  He  said  he 
could  not  give  more  than  four  shil- 
lings a  pound :  but,  says  he,  I  cannot . 
talk  on  business  now ;  this  is  the  day 
when  we  meet  together  to  learn  good 
thingSy  and  I  am  going  to  the  meeting. 
So  I  thought  to  myself,  since  1  cannot 
do  any  business  to  day,  I  may  as  well 
<ro  to  the  meeting  too,  and  I  went 
with  him.  There  stood  up  a  man  in 
black,  and  began  to  talk  to  the  people 
very  angrily.  I  did  not  understand, 
what  he  said  .•  but  perceiving  that  he 
looked  much  at  me,  and  at  Hanson,  I 
imagined  he  was  angry  at  seeing  me 
there ;  so  I  went  out,  sat  down  near 
the  house,  struck  fire,  and  lit  my  pipe, 
waiting  till  iba  meeting  should  break 
up.  I  thought  too  that  the  man  had 
mentioned  something  of  beaver |.  I 


SUSG 


118 


mSCKLLANEOUt* 


their  meetinf .  So  when  they  came 
out,  I  accosted  my  merchant,  Well, 
Hans,  says  I,  I  hope  you  hive  agreed 
to  givi>  more  than  four  shillings  a 
pound."  "  No,"  says  he,  "  I  cannot 
give  so  much,  I  cannot  give  more 
than  three  shillings  and  sixpence." 
<<  1  then  spoke  to  several  other  deal- 
ers, but  they  all  sung  the  same  song, 
three  atkl  sixpence,  three  and  six- 
pence. This  made  it  clear  to  me  that 
my  si^spicion  was  right;  and  that 
whatever  they  pretended  of  meeting 
to  learn  good  things,  the  real  purpose 
was  to  consult  how  to  cheat  Indians  in 
t^  price  of  beaver.  Consider  bat  a 
Ultle,  Conrad,  and  you  must  be  of  my 
opinion.  If  they  met  so  often  to  learn 

food  things,  they  would  certainly 
ave  learned  some  before  this  time. 
But  they  are  still  ignorant.  You 
know  our  practice.  If  a  white  man, 
in  travelling  through  our  country,  en* 
ters  one  of  our  cabins,  we  all  treat 
him  as  I  do  you ;  we  dry  him  if  he  is 
wet,  we  warm  him  if  he  is  cold,  and 
give  him  meat  and  drink,  that  he  may 
allay  his  thirst  and  hunger ;  and  we 
spread  soft  furs  for  him  to  rest  and 


sleep  on:  we  demand  nothing  in 
return.*  But  if  I  go  into  a  white 
man's  house  at  Albutiy,  and  ask  for 
victuals  and  drink,  they  say,  Where 
is  your  money  ?  and  if  I  have  none, 
rhey  say,  Get  out,  yoo  Indian  dog. 
You  see  they  have  not  learned 
those  Httle  gelod  things  that  we  need 
no  meetings  to  be  instructed  in,  be- 
cause our  mothers  taught  them  us 
when  we  were  children  3  and  therefore 
it  is  impossible  their  meetings  should 
be,  as  they  say,  for  any  such  purpose, 
or  have  any  such  effect ;  they  are  only 
to  contrive  the  cheaiinff  of  Imtitmt 
in  the  price  of  beaver.^ 


*  It  18  remarkable  that  in  all  ages  aad 
countries,  hospitality  bas  been  allowed  as 
(be  virtue  of  those,  whom  the  civiiised 
ware  pleased  to  call  barbariaos;  tha 
Greeks  celebrated  the  Scythians  for  it 
The  Saracens  posaessed  H  emioently}  aa^ 
il  is  to  this  day  the  reigning  virtue  of  tba 
wild  Arabs.  St.  Paul  too,  tn  the  relatma 
of  his  voyage  and  shipwreck,  on  the  island 
of  Melita,  says,  **The  barbarous  people 
shewed  us  no  little  kindness ;  'for  they 
kindled  a  fire,  ^nd  received  us  every  one, 
because  of  the  present  rain,  and  f 
of  the  cold."— FaAnEusr. 


Fob  the  M.a  sonic  Rcgibter. 
MIDNIGHT  ST.iNZAS. 

TPis  night— and  in  darkness  the  visions  of  youth 
Flit  solemn  and  slow  o^er  the  eye  of  the  mind. 

The  hope,  that  excited,  hath  perished,  and  truth 
Laments  oi'er  the  wreck  it  is  leaving  behind. 

^Tis  midnight-— and  wide  (>>er  the  regions  of  riot, 
Are  spread  deep  in  silence  the  wings  of  repose. 

And  man,  soothed  from  revel,  and  lulPd  into  quie^ 
Forsakes  in  his  slumbers  the  weight  of  his  woes. 

How  gloomy  and  sad  is  the  scowl  of  yon  heaven. 
Whose  azure  the  clouds  with  their  darkness  invest^ 

Not  a  star  in  the  shadowy  concave  is  giren^ 
To  omen  a  something  uke  hope  to  the  breast. 

Ah !  wbere  are  the  friends  in  whom  #a8  my  trust, 
Whose  bosoms  with  mutual  affections  did  bumf 

Alas !  they  are  gone  to  their  homes,*in  the  dust, 
And  the  grass  mstles  drearily  over  their  nm !    , 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


StlSCELLAXCOVS. 

While  I  in  a  populous  solitude  languish, 
Mid  foes  who  suirouod  me,  and  friends  that  are  cold*. 

Oh !  the  pilgrim  of  earth,  oft  has  found,  in  his  aDgfuish^ 
The  heart  may  be  witberM  before  it  is  old. 

Affection  can  soothe  but  her  yotaries  an  hour. 
For  soon  as  the  flame  it  has  raised,  it  departs. 

But,  Ah !  disappointment  has  poison,  and  power 
To  ruffle  and  sour  the  most  patient  of  hearts. 

Too  oft  'neath  the  barb-pointed  arrows  of  malice^ 
Has  merit  been  destined  to  bear  and  to  bleed. 

And  he  who  of  pleasure  has  emptied  the  chalice. 
Has  found  that  the  dregs  are  full  bitter  indeed. 

But  let  the  storms  of  kdrersitj  lowV — ^'(is  in  vafn ; 

Though  friends  should  desert  me,  and  foes  should  combine  : 
Such  may  kindle  the  breasts  of  the  weak  to  complaiv. 

It  only  can  teach  resignation  to  mine. 

For  far  6%r  the  regions  of  doubt,  and  of  dreaming, 

The  spirit  beholds  a  less  perishing  span. 
And  bright  in  the  heavens  the  rainbow  is  gleaming. 

The  sign  of  forgireness  from  Hearen  to  man. 


110 


CONCERT  OF  ANIMALS. 

Th^  abbot  of  Baigne,  a  man 


..I 


wit,  and  skilled  iu  the  construction  of 
Bew  musical  instmmeuts,  was  order- 
ed by  Louis  XI,  king  of  France, 
more  io  jest  than  in  earnest,  to  pro- 
cure him  a  concert  of  swine's  voices. 
The  abbot  said  that  the  thing  could 
doubtless  be  done,  but  that  it  would 
take  a  good  deal  of  money.  The 
king  Glared  that  he  should  have 
whatever  he  required  for  the  purpose. 
The  abbot,  says  Bay  le,  then  "  wrought 
a  thing  as  singular  as  ever  was  seen. 
For  out  of  a  great  number  of  hogs  of 
several  ages,  which  he  got  together, 
and  placed  under  a  tent,  or  pavillion, 
covered  with  velvet,  before  which  he 
had. a  table  of  wood  painted,  with  a 
certain  number  of  keys,  he  made  an 
organical  iustrument,  and  as  he  played 
upon  the  said  keys  with  little  spikes, 
which  pricked  the  hogs,  i»  made 
them  cry  in  such  order  and  conso- 
nance, he  highly  delighted  the  king 
«|fld  aU  his  company. 


IMPERIAL  BON-MOT. 

Charles  V,  who  had  so  long  distio- 
ETuished  himself  as  a  persecutor  of  all 
who  differed  from  the  orthodox  faith^ 
rippears  in  his  retirement  to  have 
come  to  his  senses  on  the  subject  of 
intolerance.  He  had  thirty  watches 
on  his  table,  and  observing  that  no 
rwoof  them  marked  the  same  tim?, 
he  exclaimed,  ^<  How  could  I  imagine 
rhat  in  matters  of  religion  I  could 
make  all  men  think  alike.  A  servant 
carelessly  entering  his  cell,  threw 
down  all  the  watches.  The  emperor 
laughed,  and  said,  "  You  are  more 
lucky  than  I,  for  you  have  found  the 
way  to  make  them  all  go  together." 


From  the  Hudson  Balance, 

DESPERATE  ASSAS3INS. 

A  couple  of  desperadoes  are  tra* 

versin?  our    country,    and    making 

dreadml  havoc  of  property  and  lives 

of  old  and  young.    The>:  ha 


digitized 


They  have  aire** 

byGt)OQle 


120 


MTSCELLANEOtM. 


dy  slain  more  of  the  inhabitants  than 
were  slain  in  battles,  and  perished  m 
prison  shipsj  during;  the  American 
war;  and,  at  the  samt*  time,   the\ 
have  wastet^  more    substance    than 
would  pay  the  national  debt.     Their 
strength  is  invincible.     The  mo'thoH 
of  attack  is  to  strike  people  on  the 
head,  then  instantly  they  trip  up  thi  ir 
heels,  pick  their  pockets,  and  continue 
their  blows   on  the  head  until   they 
have  quite  beat  out  their  brains. — 
Though   they  infest   public    houses 
chiefly,  they  are  also  at  private  clo 
sets  of  private  houses,  in  workjihops 
of  mechanics,    and  in  the  fields   of 
farmers.     In  gome   instances  whole 
families  have  fallen  victims  to  these 
murderers  ;  nay,  whole  towns  have 
beeen  ravaged  and  ruined  by  them 
One  poor  man  hereabouts,  that  had 
formerly  been  an  industrious,  thiiving 
mechanic,  has  very  lately  been  mur- 
dered by  them  in  a  manner  too  shock- 
ing to  relate ;  and  there  are  several 
others  in  the  vicinity  who  have  been 
daily  attacked  by  them,  robbed   of 
their  money,    smitten  on  the  brain 
pan,  khocked  down,  and  in  all  n' 
spects  so  violently  handled    that  an 
alarming  stupor  had  succeeded,  aul 
they  are  already  brought  to  death '> 
door.     In  a  word,  the  country  is  tu 
imminent  danger  from  a  couple  of 
-outlandish  miscreants,  who  mock  ai 
reason,  trample  upon   the    precious 
rights  of  man,  and  equally  bid  de 
fiance  to  the  law  and  gospel.     Th 
names  of  these  two  ruffians  are  RUM 
and  BRANDY. 

^^  Let  us  not  exult  unnecessarily 
over  human  deficiencies.  The  more 
we  know  of  our  own  defects,  th^' 
more  candid  shall  we  become  tow- 
ards those  of  others— and  certainly  a 
^ood  nrind  will  always  regard  them 
rather  with  sorrow  than  contempt.— 
Let  us  also  consider  that  ''  the  thou 
sands"  with  whom  we  have  but  little- 
sympathy,  may  often  be  prepared  by 
the  wisdom  of  Providence  for  othei 
friendships;  and,  in  a  different  sphere 


10  ours,  may  fill  their  station  with 
equal,  |ierhaps  with  superior  propri- 
ety. On  nothing  is  mistake  so  geoe- 
ral  as  an  observer. 

To   CoRRKSPONDENTS. 

Since  the  suspension  of  the  Raster. 
we  hare  received  a  great  Domber  of 
'Communications,  on  various  subjects, 
tor  which  we  return  our  grateful  thanks. 
ind  which  shall  all  be  attended  to  io 
rheir  turns. 

"  IJopi  Qutxotte"  had  much  beticr 
rnake  an  attack  on  the  new  innd-mili 
in  Riviogpton  street,  than  to  attempt  to 
ooQFert  the  iVIasonic  Register  into  a 
vehicle  of  scurrility,  or  a  machine  to 
answer  the  views  of  any  political  party. 
**  Dkcius,''  though  well  written, 
smelb  .too  ■trong  of  powder.  We  are 
"  friends  of  peace." 

•♦Charles,"  on  Pride,  iaraAertoo 
personal,  and  gives  some  unjustifiable 
allusions. 

**  Honor  ^nd  shame,  from  no  condition 

rise. 
Act  well  your    paRt,    there  all  lb« 
honour  lies." 

The  son  of  a  "ferryman,'*  or  Ibe 
aepbew  of  a  man  who  /*  peddles giogw- 
bread,"  whose  heart  is  possessed  of  tke 
*  milk  of  human  iundaesi,"  sod  dis- 
dains a  mean  action,  is  as  farsoptfifl"' 
to  a  dissolute  prince,  as  the  an^l  Gt- 
Sricl  is  superior  to  an  oyster. 


OBITUARY.      * 
OfKo,  on  the  3 1  St  of  October  last,  of 
I  he  late  prevailing  pe5tilencc,comjaw* 

*tKf.\RMlNR    LeLAND,    of  RlWDf  ^ 

chapter.  He  has  left  a  diacoosoMe 
vido*^,  and  a  number  of  children,  fc»- 
'ides  a  large  concourse  of  we€p«t 
^'ricnds.*  His  loss  frill  beserertly** 
I>y  tho  masonic  family- 
^*  An  honest  man's  the  noblest  woritrf 

Digitized  by^i^^^gle 


AMERICAN 

AMD 

Ladies'  and  Gentlemen's  Magazine. 

BY  LUTHER  PRATT. 


And  above  all  things  have  fervent  charity  among  yourselves :  for  charity 
shall  cover  a  multitude  of  sins. 

Use  hospitality  one  to  another  without  grudging. 

Petsr. 

[No.  IV.]    FOR  DECEMBER,  A.  D.  1822.  A.  L.  5S22.   [Vol.  fa.] 


MASONIC. 


For  thb  Masonic  Register. 

CHRISTIAN  MASON. 

NO.  FIU. 

BY  COMPANION  SAMUEL  WOODWORTH. 

Before  we  proceed  to  elucidate  the 
sublime  Itaysteries  of  the  fourth  de- 
gree^ it  will  be  necessary  to  allude, 
more  particularly  than  has  yet  been 
done,  to  the  Jewish  takernade  and 
temple  ;  and  point  out  their  relation 
and  correspondence  to  that  spiritual 
temple  which  we  are  all  called  upon 
to  rebuild  tn  aurselveSy  in  order  that 
the  Lord  may  take  up  his  abode 
with  us.  It  is  not  of  the  external 
form  atftl  body  of  masonry  that  we 
are  treating,  although  its  order,  har- 
mony, and  beauty,  are  well  worthy 
of  our  auention  and  admiration. 
But  it  is  the  internal  soul  and  spirit^ 
(without  which  the  body  would  be 
a  mere  lifeless  statue)  that  we  wish 
to  describe  and  recommend.  It  is 
not  every  one  that  has  kneeled  at 
the  masonic  altar,  (although  he  may 
Jiave  treasured  up  in  his  memory  the 

VOL.  II.  l6 


catechectical  lecture  of  every  de- 
gree) that  is  truly  and  properly  a 
mason ;  for  there  are  too  many,  alas  I 
who  see  no  deeper  than  the  surface ; 
who  rest  contented  with  contemplat- 
ing thebeauty  of  the  coikety  without 
once  dreaming  of  the  jeweb^  and 
treasures  within  it. 

Not  so  the  truly  enlightened  and 
spiritual-minded  mason.  He  reads^ 
in  the  sublime  mysteries  around 
him,  a  history  of  his  own  heart  and 
life ;  and  sees,  as  in  a  mirror,  a  faith- 
ful picture  of  himself.  His  deliver- 
ance from  spiritual  darkness  and 
bondage,  and  every  particular  of  his 
journey  through  the  wilderness  of 
temptation,  to  the  promised  Canaan 
of  rest,  is  represented  and  re-acted, 
in  a  manner  so  clear,  Uvely,  and  un- 
pressive,  as  to  fill  his  whole  soul  with 
humility,  gratitude,  and  adoration, 
to  that  Being  whose  arm  conducted 
him  on  the  way.  Such  a  mason 
seeks  for  truth  ta  for  hid  treoiures  ; 
his  eyes  are  opened ;  he  passes  at 
once  through  the  veil  of  the  letter, 
and  perceives  that  masonry,  like 
'^  the  king^s  daughter,  is  all  glorious 
within:^ 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


122 


MASONIC. 


The  tabemactcy  in  the  days  of 
Moses,  and  the  temple j  in  the  days 
of  Solomon,  were  similar  in  their 
general  design  and  structure,  and, 
of  course,  in  their  representative 
character.  It  is  true  that,  as  to 
their  external  structure,  they  were 
formed  of  different  materials;  but 
their  compartdfients  and  internal 
structure  were  the  same ;  both  ac- 
cording to  the  pattern  seen  in  the 
Mount ;  and  they  are  both  termed 
the  sanctuary. 

The  tabernacle  was  a  sort  of 
moveable  buildmg  made  of  pillars 
and  boai'ds,  set  in  sockets  of  silver, 
and  fine  linen  curtainsy  embroidered 
with  cherubs,  and  coupled  with  loops 
and  tacks  of  goldy  that  the  whole 
might  be  taken  to  pieces,  and  car- 
ried with  the  children  of  Israel  in 
their  journeys.  It  stood  on  a  large 
Mmce  of  ground,  which  was  called 
me  court  of  the  tabernacle,  an  ob- 
long square  a  hundred  cubits  long, 
and  fiAy  cubits  broad  ;  and  all  t\^ 
tribes  pitched  their  tents  round  about 
it.  It  was  covered  with  fine  linen, 
and  skins  of  rams  dyed  red,  and 
badgers'  skins. 

But  the  temple  built  by  Solomon, 
was  a  most  glorious  structure  of 
stone  and  timber,  raised  at  Jerusa- 
lem, in  place  of  the  moveable  taber- 
nacle, of  which  (as  to  the  mtemal 
structure,  furniture,  &c.),  it  was  an 
enlarged  copy.  Like  the  taberna- 
cle, it  was  subdivided  into  fArec  com- 
partments, the  court,  the  holi/'place, 
and  the  Sanctum  Sanctorum,  or  Ho- 
ly of  Holies.  In  the  first  compart- 
ment, or  the  court,  were  placed  the 
ten  laverSyBiid  the  brazen  sea  resting 
upon  twelve  oxen,  and  the  altar  cf 
Immt'offering ;  together  with  their 
furniture,  all  of  brass.  In  the  second 
compartment,  called  the  holy-placey 
were  found  the  table  of  shew-Bread, 
overlaid  with^oW;  the  golden  candle- 
^ic^,  and  the  aJtcar  of  incense.  But, 
within  the  veil,  in  the  third  compart^ 
ment,  the  Sanctum  Sanctorum,  or 
Holy  of  Holies,  was  the  ark  of  the 


covenant,  in  which  were  put  the  (ahlcf 
(f  the  law;  and  over  it  was  the 
Mercy-seat  of  pure  goldy  from 
whence  the  Divine  oracl^  were  given 
out  by  an  audible  voice,  as  oUten  as 
God  was  consulted  in  behalf  of  his 
people.  It  was  here  the  Scheki- 
nah,  or  Divine  Presence  was  mani- 
fested by  a  visible  cloud,  resting  over 
the  mercy-seat,  on  the  ends  of  which 
stood  the  cherubim  of  goldy  veiling 
their  faces  with  their  w'mgs,  at  the 
awful  Majesty  of  the  Divine  Pres- 
ence, acting  as  a  defence,  according 
as  it  is  written,  "  On  ally  the  glory 
shall  be  a  covering.^^ 

The  foundations  of  this  glorious 
edifice, "  were  of  great  ^ftwic* — eot^ 
ly  stones,  and  hewed  stones,  ail  made 
ready  before  they  were  brought 
thither,  so  that  neither  hanuner  nor 
axe,  nor  any  tool  of  rron,  was  heard 
in  the  house  while  it  was  building.*' 
This  famous  fabric  was  supported  by 
fourteen  hundred  and  fifty-three 
columns,  and  two  thousand  nine 
hundred  and  six  pilasters ;  all  hewn 
from  the  finest  Parian  ntarUe. 
There  were  employed  in  its  building 
three  grand-masters;  three  thousand 
aftd  three  hundred  mastcrSy  or  over- 
seers of  the  work  ;  eighty  thousand 
fellow-crafts  ;  and  seventy  thousand 
entered  apprentices,  or  bearers  of 
burdens,  A.11  these  w«re  classed  and! 
arranged,  by  the  wisdom  of  Solomoo, 
in  such  a  manner,  that  neither  envy, 
discord,  nor  confusion,  were  sufiered 
to  interrupt  that  universal  peace  and 
tranquillity  which  then  pervaded  the 
world.  Although  seven  years  yt&e 
employed  in  building  this  magnifi- 
cent temple,  the  work  w^  never 
once  interrupted  by  the  element9^f<tf 
it  did  not  rain  in  the  daytime  during 
the  whole  of  that  period. 

From  the  foregoing  very  brief 
and  Imperfect  description  of  the  to* 
bernacie  and  the  tempky  it  must  ap- 
pear evident  to  every  cnhghteued 
mind,  that  much  useful  instructioo 
is  involved  in  the  subject  To  en- 
ter into  a  particular  detail,  howeirery 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MASOKIC. 


128 


of  the  meaning  and  signification  of 
the  several  paits  of  these  glorious 
structures,  would  be  to  write  a  folio 
volume.  But  to  the  heavenly-mind- 
ed mason,  every  particular  is  seen  to 
be  full  of  meaning,  and  fraught  with 
spiritual  instruction.  The  faundo 
turn  stones,  the  curtainSy  the  hooks 
and  tacks,  some  of  which  were  of 
gM^  and  others  oftiker  ;  the  sock- 
ets of  the  pillars,  whether  of  brass 
or  of  Mver ;  the  three  compart- 
ments, with  their  respective  furni- 
ture, whether  oftvood^  of  brastf  or  of 
gold;  the  lavers  and  brazen  sea; 
the  alt€W9  for  sacrifice  and  incense  ; 
the  different  mdtericUs  and  colours 
of  the  veih  and  the  curtains;  all 
these,  though  toooAen  overlooked 
by  the  superficial  mason,  as  matters 
of  trifling  import,  or  of  tedious  mi- 
autiffi,  are  full  of  the  most  important 
meaning,  and  were  intended  to  con- 
vey to  the  mind  the  most  edifying 
lessons  aC  wisdom,  and  such  lessons 
they  do  convey  to  every  one  whose 
eyes  have  been  really  opened  to  see 
and  acknowledge  the  sanctity  of  our 
institution,  and  the  internal  divinity 
of  those  scriptures  on  which  it  is 
founded.  In  the  words  of  the  apos- 
tle, such  a  mason  views  all  these 
things  as  the  "  pattern  of  things  in 
the  heavens ;"  and  is  enabled  to  trace 
the  beautiful  analogy  which  exists 
between  the  mystic  temple  and  his 
own  renovated  mind. 

Such  a  mason  readily  perceives 
that  man,  in  his  natural  unregener- 
ate  state,  has  not  even  entered  the 
outer  court  of  the  temple ;  and  con- 
sequently has  not  washed  away  his 
impurities  in  the  lavers  or  brazen 
Hg,  which  stand  In  this  court  for 
that  express  purpose.  He  is  still  in 
a  state  of  spiritual  blindness  ;  he  has 
no  perception  tof  heavenly  things ; 
he  is  immersed  in  •  the  love  of  self 
and  the  world ;  and  all  hifr  affections 
are  absorbed  in  earthly  pursuits. 

But  the  spirit  of  God  is  for  ever 
**  movmg  on  the  face  of  the  waters,^' 
and  brooding  over  the  knowledges 


oi  right  and  wrong,  which  have  been 
stored  up  in  his  mind.  If  he  wisely 
yields  to  this  divine  impulse,  he  is 
then  gradually  introduced,  as  before 
described,  into  the  outer  court  of  the 
temple,  where  he  finds  the  purifring 
lavers  and  the  brazen  sea,  in  which 
his  natural  defilements  are  to  be 
washed  away.  Here  too  he  finds 
the  brazen  altar,  on  which  he  is  to 
sacrifice  his  worldly  loves  and  earth- 
ly affections ;  where  the  natural 
man  is  to  be  slmny  and  ^'  raised^  from 
a  life  of  sin  to  a  life  of  righteousness." 
This  process  thus  far,  is  beautifhlly 
represented,  figured,  and  typified,  in 
the  three  first  degrees  of  Masonry ^ 
as  the  reader  must  have  already  seen. 

But  let  him  not  indolently  remain 
in  the  very  porch  of  the  temple,  nor 
rest  satisfied  with  small  advances  in 
the  regenerate  life ;  but  let  him  rather 
^*'  press  on  toward  the  mark  of  the 
high  calling"  of  his  Divine  Master. 
Let  him  be  duly  prepared  for  a  fur- 
ther  manifestation  of  light,  and  led 
forward  into  the  second  compart- 
ment, called  the  Holy  place^  or  the 
SancUiary, 

And  here  what  an  ineffable  lustre 
beams  upon  his  delighted  soul.  Here 
are  seen  the  golden  candksiickSf 
shedding  a  heavenly  light,  even  di- 
vine truth  prooeedmg  from  divme 
love.  Here,  also,  is  seen  the  ahar 
ofincenscj  on  which  the  subdued^ 
the  humbled,  affectionate  soul,  is  to 
offer  up  the  holy  incense  of  prayer, 
praise,  and  thanksgiving,  more  ac- 
ceptsy^le  to  Jehovah  than  the  ^^  blood 
of  bulls  or  eoats."  Here  too  is  seen 
the  table  oftfieshew-bread,  of  which 
the  regenerate  soul  is  now  permitted 
to  taste,  as  a  sacred  pledge  of  that 
holy  conjunction  with  the  Lord  by 
love  and  faith  which  is  about  to  take 
place.  All  these  things  are  beauti- 
fully represented,  figured,  and  typi* 
fied,  in  the  fourth^  fifths  and  nxik 
degrees  of  Masonry,  as  the  reader 
wiU  perceive,  if  he  still  has  the  pa- 
tience to  accompanv  us. 

The  soul,  thus  jurther  purified 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


124 


tCASONtC. 


and  jfreparedy  is  now  permitted  to 

Siss  with^  the  veily  even  into  the 
olv  ofHoHeSy  where  is  seen  <*  the 
golden  censer,  and  the  ark  of  the 
covenant,  overlaid  roimd  ahout  with 
goId>  wherein  is  the  golden  pot  that 
had  manna,  atid  Aaron's  rod  that 
budded,  and  the  tables  of  the  cove- 
nant ;  and  over  it  the  cherubims  of 
glory  shadowing  the  mercy-seat; 
of  which  we  cannot  now  speak  par- 
ticularly."* 

Happy,  thrice  happy  soul !  Thy 
warfare  is  now  at  an  end ;  thy  trials 
and  conflicts  are  over;  thou  hast 
fought  the  good  light;  henceforth 
there  is  laid  up  for  thee  a  crcfwn  of 
imperishable  glory ;  thy  six  dayt? 
labour  is  now  at  an  end ;  thy  sabbath 
of  rest  is  come,  for  thou  art  conjoin- 
ed, by  faith  and  love,  to  Him  who  is 
the  Lord  of  the  Sabbath.  He  who 
hath  overcome  the  world,  hath  taken 
lip  his  everlasting  abode  in  the  tem- 
ple of  thy  heart,  and  he  will  confer 


royal  ardi  chapter.    A  tmaniiliooi 

vote  of  thanks  to  the  author  was 
passed,  and  a  copy  for  publicatioD 
respectfully  solicited. 

Brsthken,  and  Fellow  Citizens, 

There  exists  in  the  human  mind  a 
sentiment  of  elevated  and  instinctive 
-admiration  for  the  more  stem  and 
lofty  virtues  of  our  nature.  Thus, 
when  we  contemplate  the  ardent  pa- 
triotism of  Epaminondas,  breathing 
s(s  it  were,  along  the  Hne  of  his  em- 
battled countrymen ;  or  the  brave 
Leonidas,  Qjrecting  his  stately  form 
in  defiance  of  the  storm  of  war;  or 
the  venerated  Regulus,  the  destinies 
of  contending  empires  resting  on  his 
nod,  returning  amid  the  ionised 
entreaties  of  his  afflicted  country- 
men to  Carthage,  to  death,  our 
minds  are  filled  with  high  emotion, 
and  we  catch  with  enthusiastic  avifli- 
Yf  the  mspiradon  of  their  virtiKS. 


pie  oi  my  neair,  ana  nc  wiu  coDier    ^^  the  inspiration  of  their  virtires. 
upon  thee  th^t  peace  which  passeth  U  There  is  something  in  the  splendour 


all  understanding ;  thy  joy  shall  now 
be  PULL !  The  waters  of  temptation 
shall  be  divided  before  thee,  as  they 
were  before  the  ark  of  old,  and  thou 
shalt  pass  over  on  dry  ground. 

But  this  is  anticipating  our  sub- 
ject ;  for  we  should  now  proceed  to 
elucid  ate  the  mysteries  of  die  Fourth^ 
or  Mark  degree.  The  next  num- 
ber shall,  therefore,  be  devoted  to 
that  purpose. 


Companion  Brackenridob's 
ORATION. 

The  following  excellent  oration 
was  pronounced  before  the  com- 
panions of  Webb  royal  arch  chapter, 
and  the  brethren  of  Land  Mark 
lodge,  Versailles,  Kentucky,  on  the 
anniversary  of  St.  John  the  evange- 
list, inDecemberlastfby  companion 
J.  R.Beackbnbipoe,  of  Lexington 

•  H^rews  MP,  4|  5. 


of  vast  achievements  that  dazdes 
and'  bewitches;  there  is  someUiing 
in  the  pomp  of  successful  ambition 
which  pours  a  tide  of  delusive  joy 
over  the  human  heart.  Yet  when 
we  calmly  investigate  the  deeds 
which  attach  such  apparent  dignity 
to  the  hero's  death,  or  shed  such  a 
lustre  around  the  patriot's  career^ 
shall  we  not  often  find  them  cmel^ 
bloody,  and  unchristian  ?  Alas !  what 
is  the  hero's  feme  but  the  wreck  of 
human  existence  ?  Or,  on  what  so 
flrequenlly  as  the  ruins  of  other  na* 
tions,does  the  patriot  erect  the  proud 
fAricofhisown?  Far  diflferent  are 
the  achievements,  which  we  are  this 
day  met  to  celebrate.'  The  path  of 
virtue,  is  that  of  obscurity,  and  q^ 
etness,  and  peace.  The  light  winch 
shines  along  its  rugged  steep,  unlike 
the  meteor  glories  of  the  worM, 
which  dazzle  to  mislead  us,  igsd  shine 
the  brightest  on  the  eve  of  Aeir  ex- 
tinction, is  steady  and  eternal.  It 
enters  die  soul,  and  expands  and 
elevates  itto  aregion  where  the  voice 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MASONIC 


125 


of  kttBMMd  vanity  is  loute,  and  humaD 
splendours  are  but  darkness. 

This  is  the  natal  day  of  Samt  John 
the  Evangelist  We  are  met  to 
commemorate  the  birth  and  useful- 
ness of  one  of  the  greatest  benefac- 
tors of  our  species ;  one  of  the  chosen 
messengers  of  Heaven ;  the  tender- 
est  friend  of  the  Saviour;  the  fa- 
vourite disciple  of  our  Lord.  What 
mOTe  shall  we  say  of  him  ?  Follow 
him  through  all  the  vicissitudes  of 
his  fortune ;  mark  the  depth  of  his 
self  devotion ;  the  simj^city  and 
dignity  of  his  character;  the  sublimi- 
ty  of  his  conceptions;  follow  him 
through  the  splendours  of  his  apoca- 
lyptic vbion ;  then  view  him  repos- 
ing oa  the  bosom  of  his  Master,  and 
receiving  at  the  cross  the  tenderest 
legacy  which  the  heart  has  to  be- 
queath,  and  at  every  incident  of  his 
long  life  does  not  the  heart  leap  with 
a  prouder  throb  when  we  hail  him  as 
n  brother  and  patron  of  our  order  ? 
What  has  been  said  of  his  great  co- 
temporary  may,  with  equal  truth,  be 
said  of  St.  John.  His  powerful  and 
diversified  character  seems  to  have 
combined  the  separate  excellencies 
of  all  the  other  sacred  writers : — ^the 
lofliness  of  Isaiah ;  the  devotion  of 
David;  the  pathos  of  Jeremiah ;  the 
vehemence  of  Ezekiel ;  the  didac- 
tive  gravity  of  Moses ;  the  elevated 
morality  and  practical  sense  of  St. 
James ;  the  noble  energies  and  burn- 
ing zeal  of  St  Peter,  added  to  the 
strong  argumentative  powers,  depth 
of  thought,  and  intensity  of  feeling, 
which  so  pecuUarly  distinguished  the 
great  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles.  Never 
was  there  a  man  more  eminently  fit- 
ted to  combat  the  difficulties  with 
which  he  was  surrounded,  and  to  fill 
the  glorious  destiny  ^which  awaited 
him. 

He  who  delineates  the  character 
of  our^existinff  and  splendid  institu- 
tion, is  placed  in  the  same  situation 
with  him  who  writes  the  biography 
of  a  living  individual.  Dbtinctive 
qualities  cannot,  indeed,  be  invent- 


ed, nor  the  current  of  actions  divert- 
ed firom  its  channel ;  but  every  vir« 
tue  may  be  made  to  shine  with  a 
lustre  not  its  own ;  every  excellence 
piay  be  magnified ;  every  imperfec* 
tion  veiled,  and  the  little  importend- 
ingrill,  which  waniAcred  in  silence 
through  the  meuji^  may  become,  if 
we  -accept  the  enthusiastic  testimony 
of  the  admirer  who  traced  its  course, 
a  m^^tic  river,  on  whose  broad  bo- 
som the  wealth  of  nations  floats*  If, 
on  the  contrary,  we  view  the  picture 
as  drawn  by  an  enemy^  we  scarce 
recognize  in  the  gloomy  colouring 
and  furrowed  lines  of  the  distorted 
countenance,  the  least  resemblance 
to  those  features  which  afifection  has 
engraven  on  our  hearts.  Prejudice 
has  discoloured,  or  passion  extin- 
guished the  spring-blossom  of  their 
beauty ;  and  though  a  faint  likeness 
may  be  perceived,  all  the  loveliness 
which  endeared  them  to  us  is  gone* 
It  is  one  of  the  merciful  efiects  of 
decay,  that  it  scatters  a  benevolence 
of  recollection  around  the  objects 
which  are  subjected  to  its  remorse- 
less influence.  It  not  only  melts 
down  prejudices,  and  extinguishes 
animosities,  but  it  gives  to  aflection 
itself  a  deeper  tone  of  tenderness. 
It  sheds  a  moon-light  glory  over  its 
dominions,  pale  and  pure,  more  se- 
rene, and  lovely  than  the  flood  of 
splendour  poured  from  the  meridian 
sun  of  life.  That  which  is  illumi- 
nated appears  softer  than  when  view- 
ed in  a  stronger  ray,  while  whsCfever 
was  obscure  or  unsightiy,  sinks  into 
masses  of  shadow  wmch  the  eye  can- 
not penetrate,  and  which,  while  they 
conceal  the  deformity,  give  a  char- 
acter, a  deeper  solemnity,  to  the 
whole  scenery,  and  aflbrd  a  pleasing 
contrast  to  tiie  mild  light  which 
sleeps  upon  it  Such  are  the  more 
obvious  difficulties  which  present 
themselves  in  the  investigation  of 
the  subject  before  us.  We  profess 
not  to  be  entirely  free  fi*om  their  in** 
fluence. 
The  science  of  masonry  consists 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


1S€ 


MAtdNlC. 


of  ^iree  depftitmeoti,  ^nch  in  id  na- 
ture distiiict  from  the  rest,  yet  all 
noel  mtBiiately  and  beaatifulfy  con- 
nected. These  departm^iCs  are  its 
symbolf,  its  mjBtenff^aiid  its  prin- 
cipies.  This  is  a  dte^ction  which, 
though  not  always  made  by  masons 
themselves,  is  not.  only  intelligible, 
but  absolutely  necessary  to  the  cor- 
rect understanding  the  scope  and 
design  of  the  institution.  Before  the 
invention  of  letters,  the  kno^edge 
of  important  events  was  preserved  11 
from,  genemtion  to  generation  by 
oral  tradition.  But  the  manifest 
danger  that  facts  might  be  distorted, 
and  concomitant  circumstances  em- 
bellished by  the  fancy  or  prejudices 
of  those  through  whom  they  were 
transmitted,  pointed  out  the  necessi- 
ty of  some  more  precise  and  restricts 
ed  method  for  their  communication,  j 
Hence  the  use  among  all  rude  na- 
tions of  symbolical  figures.  In  the 
first  dawnings  of  civilization,  those 
representations  were  usually  taken 
firom  the  simplest  and  most  common 
objects  with  which  savages  are  con- 
versant. As  nations  advanced  in 
improvement,  we  find  the  more  ob- 
vious principles  of  science,  and  the 
implements  for  their  practical  use, 
made  subservient  to  the  design  of 
perpetuating  the  knowledge  they 
possessed.  Thus  astronomy,  agri- 
culture, and  architecture,  have  af- 
forded materiab  for  the  most  copious 
symbolic  languages.  From  this  lat- 
ter are  mostly  cLrawn  the  hierogly- 
phics of  masonry,  which  constitute 
the  most  perfect  system  of  the  kind, 
of  which  any  knowledge  has  been 
preserved.  Their  desini  is  two- 
fold ;  through  them  has  been  trans- 
mitted to  us  the  most  important  oc- 
currences in  the  history  of  our  order ; 
and  they  afford  besides  the  most 
beautiful  illustrations  of  the  precepts 
it  inculcates,  and  the  duties  it  en- 
forces. Whence  may  be  seen  their 
intimate  connection  m  one  of  their 
uses  with  the  mysteries,  and  the 
odier  with  tht  prmciples  of  the  in- 


stitation.  Theftrmnrca&tolEBoiRra 
to  masons  only;  the  latter n  ably 
explained  inmost  of  the  numerous 
publications  which  have  treated  of 
the  safc^eot.  Of  the  mysteries  of 
masonry  it  is  necessary  to  say  bat 
little.  Their  design  must  be  known 
to  all.  They  are  the  cord  which 
binds  us  indissolubly  to  each  other. 
It  is  by  them  that  eveiy  masm  must 
vindicate  to  himself  the  rigl^  and 
privile|[es  of  the  order,  and  tbe  pe- 
cuUar  immunities  of  each  particular 
degree  which  he  may  dama  to  pos- 
sess. It  is  by  dieir  agency  that  we 
have  been  preserved,  as  we  believe^ 
from  th€t  foundation  of  the  world, 
but  as  can  be  clearly  proven,  from 
the  da3rs  of  SokmKHi^  a  distinct  and 
peculiar  class.  They  constitute  a 
science  the  most  varied  and  beauti- 
ful, each  degree  complete  in  itself^ 
yet  the  union  of  all  forming  a  most 
symmetric  whole.  They  resemble 
the  union  of  every  colour  in  a  ray  of 
light  When  we  reflect  on  their  im- 
portance to  the  craft ;  on  the  mil- 
lions of  human  beings  of  every  gene- 
ration, who  have  been  members  of 
the  order,  and  on  the  strong  commu- 
nicative propensity  of  die  species,  we 
may  be  surprised  that  greater  inters 
est  and  anxiety  are  not  evinced  by 
the  craft  generally,  when  die  strong 
probability  of  their  revelation  is  urg- 
ed. This  apparent  apathy  arises 
from  the  conviction  that  such  sug- 
gestions are  vain  and  false.  The 
disclosure  of  the  minutest  mystenei 
(^  the  order,  woukl  exhibit  a  d^ree 
of  desperate  and  shortsighted  villn- 
ny  but  rarely  to  be  found  in  the  his- 
tory of  mankind.  There  is  also  an- 
other consideration  which  tends  to 
produce  the  same  effect.  Mysteri- 
ously as  our  secreu  have  been  pre- 
served, and  important  as  it  certamly 
is,  that  the  knowledge  of  them  should 
be  confined  to  the  membera  of  tbe 
institution ;  its  gradations  of  disdnc- 
don  and  of  skill,  wouki  render  the 
disclosure  of  many  <^  them  much 
less  ruinous  diaa  is  generally  imagia* 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


Ukicmc. 


m 


cd.  He  who  iM  possessed  of  the 
mysteries  of  one,  or  even  of  several 
degrees  of  masonry,  is  no  more  a 
mason  than  an  acquaintance  with  a 
few  of  the  simplest  mathematical 
axioms,  confers  a  knowledge  of  the 
stupendous  operations  of  diat  botmd- 
less  science,  or  than  the  smattering 
a  few  sentences  of  unintelligible  jar- 
gon, can  give  a  just  perception  of 
the  rich  and  exhaustless  beauties 
which  the  stores  of  classical  litera- 
ture unibld. 

There  are  few  inquiries  more  in- 
teresting in  their  nature  than  those 
which  tend  to  inform  us  of  the  char- 
acter and  design  of  those  institutions 
which  have  occupied  much  of  the 
consideration  of  mankind,  or  which 
could  exert  much  influence  over  their 
happiness.  Nor  can  we,  in  any  way, 
more  readily  effect  the  object  of  our 
research,  than  by  an  examination  oi 
the  principles  by  which  their  actions 
have  been  directed.  For  though 
the  consequences  of  our  actions  may 
be  frequently  unknown  to  us,  and 
are  generally  beyond  our  controul, 
a  scrutiny  of  the  causes  which  have 
raerated  to  produce  them,  and  of 
the  rules  by  which  they  have  been  di- 
rected, will  supply  us  Ynth  some  idea 
of  their  general  result.  Fortunate- 
ly m  the  present  instance,  the  object 
of  our  attention  is  not  of  difficult  ob- 
tainment  The  principles  of  mason- 
ry areas  widelydiffused  as  the  extent 
of  creation.  They  are  drawn  from 
the  operations  of  nature,  and  the  in- 
junctions of  nature's  God.  Formed, 
at  first  by  that  reason  which  so  pecu- 
liarly distinguishes  man  above  all 
other  creatures,  and  perfected  by  the 
successive  revelations  which  the 
Almighty  has  been  pleased  to  make 
its  of  his  will,  they  constitute  a  sys- 
tem of  the  purest  and  most  perfect 
moradity.  The  hallowed  volume  of 
inspiration  is  the  depository  of  our 
faith,  our  principles,  and  our  hopes. 
By  its  light  we  hope  to  be  directed 
tluroogh  the  gloomiest  dispensations 
of  life ;  to  be  cheered  by  its  influ- 


enoe  m  ^  the  dark  valley  of  die  sha^ 
dow  of  death,"  and  covered  with  it, 
as  with'  a  mantle  at  the  judgment 
bar  of  God! 

The  efiect#of  such  an  institution 
upon  society  at  large,  and  upon  the 
individual  happiness  of  men,  cannot 
avoid  being  permanent  and  useruL 
That  which  exists  only  by  system 
and  order,  cannot  encourage  confu^ 
sion  and  insubordination,  unless  by 
the  vilest  species  of  moral  suicide* 
That  which  seizes  hold  on  the 
strongest  and  tenderest  sympathies 
of  the  human  heart,  and  wields  them 
through  a  succession  of  years  and  of 
honours  by  the  most  powerful  im- 
pulses which  are  known  to  our  nar 
ture,  must  by  die  plainest  law  of  our 
intellectual  constitution,  strengthen 
our  virtuous  affections,  and  vasdy  in- 
crease the  desire  and  the  facilities  of 
knowledge.  If  this  be  to  dupe  and 
to  degrade  mankind,  then  were  ouf 
revilers  right  to  ^um  and  to  despise 
us.  But  if  we  direct  you  to  all  die 
lessons  of  die  past,  and  show  you 
that  government  itself  has  derived 
its  firaiest  support  from  those  virtues 
which  we  most  especially  inculcate  ; 
if  we  point  vou  to  the  smiles  of  th^ 
helpless;  the  benedictions  of  the 
widow,  and  the  rich  tribute  of  the  or- 
phan's tears  cheering  us  on  our  way, 
then  may  we  contemn  the  ignorance 
which  derides  us,  and  look  forward 
with  confidence  to  the  track  of  glory 
which  will  illuminate  our  course, 
when  the  childish  virulence  of  Robin- 
son, and  the  learned  malice  of  Baru- 
el  shall  be  buried  amid  the  rubbish 
of  a  barbarous  antiquity. 

Masonry,  the  depository  of  virtue, 
of  arts,  philosophy  and  fifeedom,  en- 
lightened our  Continent  in  the  da^ 
of  its  barbarity,  and  now  sheds  its 
benign  inffuence  around  the  rising 
glories  of  another.  Every  partcS* 
created  nature  is  the  subject  of  its 
contemplation  and  its  influence. 
From  the  minutest  ingredient  of  an 
atom,  up  through  all  the  gradations 
of  beauty  and  of  being,  to  the  span- 
Digitized  by  vjOOQIc 


12S 


UASONIC. 


gled  myriad  of  glories  which  sur- 
round and  light  us,  it  traces  and  re- 
veals the  wisdom  and  benevolence  of 
the  Creator.  Ito  principles,  com- 
mensurate as  we  say-  ^ith  the  exist- 
ence of  man,  have  survived  the  shock 
of  time,  and  the  decay  of  empires. 
Nations  have  arisen,  and  have  tri- 
umphed, and  have  passed  away, 
leaving  scarce  a  firagment  on  which 
the  eye  of  philantfcuropy  might  re- 
pose, or  whence  history  could  trace 
the  story  of  their  fame.  The  land 
of  Maro,  and  Tacitus,  and  Tully, 
exists  only  in  the  decayless  empire 
of  the  mind.  Their  descendants, 
standing  amid  the  monuments  of 
their  country's  freedom,  and  the  de- 
caying tombs  of  ^  those  at  whose 
firown  the  nations  trembled,  in  un- 
blushing corruption  hug  their  gilded 
chains,  and  smile  over  their  infamy ! 
The  canvass  glowed  beneath    the 

tencil  of  Apollos,  and  the  marble 
reathed  under  the  chisel  of  Phidias ; 
Athens*  was  mute  at  the  eloquence  of 
Demosthenes,  and  the  waves  of  h'ls 
rocky  Chios,  were  still  at  the  sound 
of  Homer's  harp.  Yet  the  land  of 
Aristotle  is  now  the  abode  of  igno- 
rance, and  the  descendants  of  those 
who  fell  at  Marathon  and  Salamis 
live — and  are  slaves !  The  shade  of 
Hercules  no  longer  dwelb  on  the 
top  of  Mount  (£ta.  The  heights 
of  Olympus,  the  banks  of  the  Pene- 
us,  and  the  vale  of  Tempe  no  longer 
resound  to  the  Muses'  song,  or 
Apollo's  lyre.  The  glory  of  Achil- 
les has  departed  from  Larissa  :  The- 
bes has  forgotten  the  martial  sum- 
mons of  Cadmus.  Mycenae  no 
longer  dwells  on  the  fame  of  Aga- 
memnon, and  Philippi  could  not 
learn  even  from  Brutus  to  be  free  I 
Tlie  altars  of  Ida,  and  Delos,  and 
Parnassus,  are  crumbled  into  dust : 
Platcaa  has  forgotten  the  triumph  of 
Pausonias,  and  the  sea  of  Marmora 
tliat  the  wreck  of  an  invader  once 
rotted  on  its  waves  !  Thus  has  it 
been  not  only  with  man,  but  with  all 
those    subjects  which  would  seem 


from  dieir  nature,  less  liable  to  change 
or  decay.  Learning,  arts,  and  ac- 
complishments, have  changed  with 
successive  geseratioos,  or  perished 
beneath  the  weight  of  remoraelesa 
barbarism,  ^k>t  so  with  masoniy. 
Race  has  followed  race,  as  wave 
chases  wave  upon  the  bosom  of  the 
deep  until  it  dashes  against  the  sluure, 
and  is  seen  no  more.  Thus  oar  order 
has  withstood  the  concossioos  of  a 
thousand  generations.  The  Inllows  of 
every  sea  have  lashed  its  sides,  and 
the  storms  of  every  age  have  pom«l 
their  fury  around  iu  head.  Perfect 
at  its  creation,  sublime  alhid  all  the 
changes  which  have  convubeft  the 
world,  its  adamantine  column  wOl 
stand  unshaken  throughont  all  the 
revolutions  of  the  ages  which  are  to 
come ;  or,  if  it  should  fall,  crashed 
beneath  the  weight  of  its  own  iocoaa- 
bent  magnificence,  it  will  cany  widi 
it  in  its  ruin,  half  the  happiness,  and 
half  the  wisdom  of  mankind.  When 
the  Eternal  shall  wipe  from  existeooe 
the  little  planet  we  inhabit — when  he 
shall  gather  in  his  grasp,  the  splendid 
retinue  of  worlds  which  constitute  his 
trahi,  and  call  into  judgment  all  the 
souls  which  have  peopled  them,  then 
will  the  principles  we  profess  survive 
the  general  desolation,  and  be  con- 
summated in  the  glories  of  measme- 
less  eternity ! 

Such  is  a  brief  outline  of  our  insti- 
tution, which,  from  its  remote  anti- 
quity— it9  unknown  origin— ^ts  mys- 
terious preservation,  and  its  vast  ex- 
tent, forms  the  most  remarkable 
phenomenon  in  the  history  of  mankind. 
As  far  back  as  the  human  vision  can 
penetrate,  we  behold  her  moviitg  in 
quiet  majesty  along  the  stream  of  time, 
apparently  unconcerned  in  the  events 
which  were  transpiring,  but  recdly 
exerting  an  influence  over  the  con- 
cerns of  men— -mute  indled,  but  ex- 
tensive as  the  countries  over  which 
her  votaries  were  dispersed. 

The  sketch  which  we  have  gi\*en 
is  but  a  d'istant  external  view  ^  the 
temple  of  our  order.    A  soperfidid 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


view  of  the  Cartoons  of  Raphael  will 
not  bring  the  observer  acquainted 
with  the  style  of  that  great  master. 
M ach  time  must  be  devoted  to  each 
to  feel  its  individual  force  and  gran- 
deur of  outline  and  expression ;  for 
although  they  are  all  the  productions 
of  the  same  matchless  pencil,  and 
have  all  therefore  a  correspondent 
style,  they  cannot  be  judged  of,  one 
by  the  other  ;  but  must  be  diligent- 
ly  studied  apart.  Thus  it  is  with 
this  stupendous^fabric.  Every  atti- 
tude in  which  it  can  be  viewed  is 
striking  and  magnificent ;  but  every 
change  of  situation  produces  a  cor- 
respondent change  of  appearance.— 
To  those  who  are  not  masons  we 
would  say — study  well  its  graceful 
proportions,  its  imposing  aspect,  its 
rich  and  gorgeous  decorations. — 
Every'view  wffl  afibrd  a  lesson  for 
future  practice.  Here  the  natural 
and  dignified  simplicity  ;  the  ex- 
quisite symmetry  of  Doric  architec- 
ture, solicits  your  admiration  :  there 
you  behold  the  richer  Ionic  drawn, 
as  we  are  tald,  from  the  matchless 
proportions  of  Diana,  and  made  im- 
mortal by  being  used  in  her  Ephe- 
sian  temple.  Moving  on,  you  may 
contemplate  the  plain  and  solid 
strength  of  the  Tuscan ;  the  rude 
magnificence  of  the  Gothic,  and  the 
light  and  graceful  proportions,  the 
delicate  and  rich  decorations  of  the 
beautiful  Corinthian. 

Brethren  and  CompanianSy 

To  you  we  would  say,  enter  the 
expanded  portals  of  our  consecrated 
dome.  Contemplate  with  awe  and* 
admiration  the  splendours  which 
surround  you.  Remember  that  you 
stand  upon  holy  ground,  and  amid 
the  labours  of  the  best  and  wisest  of 
mankind.  The  accumulated  tro- 
phies of  ccJimtless  generations  lie 
open  before  you.  All  that  is  lovely 
in  nature;  all  that  is  beautiful  in 
art ;  all  tliat  genius  could  create,  or 
skill  embody,  solicits  j'our  admb'a- 
tion,  and  urges  you  to  advance. — 
Pause  not  with  heathen  indifference 


VOL.  II. 


MASOtNIC.  129 

at  the  vestibule,  but  prosecute  your 
search  through  the  glittering  apart- 
ments, until  you  shall  arrive  at  the 
Holy  of  Holm,  and  gaze  undazzled 
upon  it»  flodjra*  glory.  Each  step 
you  advance^ll  afford  you  a  richer 
theme  for  admiration;  a  stronger 
inducement  to  virtue,  an  undiscover- 
ed source  of  usefulness  and  know- 
ledge !  May  your  lives  "become 
beautiful  as  the  temple,  peaceful  as 
the^ark,  and  sacred  as  its  most  holy 
place.  May  your  oblations  of  piety 
and  praise  be  grateful  as  the  incense; 
your  love  warm  as  its  flame,  and 
your  charity  diffusive  as  its  fra- 
grance. May  your  hearts  be  pure 
as  the  altar,  and  your  conduct  ac- 
ceptable as  the  offering.'  ^May 
the  exercises  of  your  charity  be  as 
constant  as  the  returning  wants  of 
the  distressed  widow,  and  helpless 
orphan.  May  the  approbation  of 
Heaven  be  your  encouragement, 
and  the  testimony  of  a  good  con- 
science your  support.  May  you  be 
endowed  with  every  good  and  per- 
fect gift,  while  travelling  the  rugged 
path  of  life,  and  finaBy  admitted 
within  the  veil  of  Heaven  to  the  full 
enjoyment  of  life  eternal!''  So 
mote  it  be.    Amen. 

'  ^THE  FEMALE  MASON. 

I  supped  lately  with  a  brother, 
(s&ys  a  late  author,^  whose  lady  was 
exceedingly  inquisitive  to  know  all. 
The  husband,  in  order  to  keep  her 
hi  good  humor,  amused  her  with  the 
assurance  (after  she  had  previously 
declared  that  she  never  would  betray 
him)  that  all  the  secret  of  freemason- 
ry was  to  be  silent  the  first  five 
minutes  of  every  hour,  which  was  the 
reason  that  no  woman  could  be  ad- 
mitted, as  it  was  impossible  that  she 
could  be  silent  so  often,  and  for  so 
long  a  time.  The  lady  believed  this, 
but  was  sure  there  was  more,  and 
therefore  besought  her  dear  to  com- 
municate the  rest.  After  much 
coaxing,  the  husband  then  told  her 
that  this  long  silence  was  to  be  sue* 


17 


130 


MA90MC. 


cceded  with  five  mmirtet*  whistling, 
which  done  they  were  at  liberty  to 
employ  the  remaining  fifty  minutes 
according  to  then:  pleasure. 

Some  short  time  b^ore  supper,  a 
disagreement  took  place  between 
this  loving  pair.  As  far  as  I  could 
understand,  our  company  was  in- 
convenient to  the  lady,  who  wished 
to  have  had  this  day  entirely  devo- 
ted to  domestic  business ;  but  our 
lM>9ther,  who  was  always  happy  to 
entertain  his  friends,  wast^us  dispo- 
sed to-night,  and  determined  that 
the  washing,  or  any  thing  else, 
should  be  deferred,  rather  than  his 
company  should  be  sent  supperless 
away.  However,  the  lady's  displea^ 
sure  was  evident ;  particularly  as 
her  husband  not  only  insisted,  that 
a  supper  should  be  provided,  but 
that  she  should  also  preside  as  usual 
at  table.  This  added  to  her  chagrin ; 
and  she  assured  her  husband,  tliat 
he  should  heartily  repent  it. 

When  supper  was  brought  on  the 
table,  she  endeavoured,  but  in  vain, 
to  disguise  her  anger :  the  hypocri- 
tical smile  al>vays  betrays  itself. — 
Our  friend  was  one  of  those  prudent 
husbands  who  always  leave  their 
wives  when  angered,  to  come  to 
tliemselves :  thus  it  was  to-night  5 
and  we,  in  compliment  to  oun  uro- 
ther,  took  no  notice  of  her  discon- 
tent. When  the  cloth  was  removed, 
and  the  witie  placed  on  the  table,  the 
lady  began  to  talk,  this  being  what 
she  was  very  fond  of.  However, 
upon  the  clock's  striking,  she  was 
suddenly  struck  dumb  :  we  drank 
her  health  :  no  reply.  Her  hus- 
band spoke  to  her — ^in  vain.  We 
enquired  if  any  thing  was  the  mat- 
ter 5  but  to  no  purpose  :  her  taci- 
turnity continued  to  our  great  aston- 
ishment. Her  husband,  I  believe . 
began  to  suspect  her  design,  as  he 
pretended  uneasiness,  and  was  every 
HOW  and  then  crying  to  her : — 
"Moljly,  you  had  better  speak; 
don't  make  a  fool  of  yourself.'*  No 
menace,  however,  could  prevail  on 


her  to  open  her  mouth,  tiU  lookiaf 
at  her  watch,  she  all  of  a  audden 
broke  out  into  a  loud  whistle,  crack- 
ing her  fingers,  and  grinning  at  her 
husband  with  no  little  exaltation.r- 
This  unccmth  behaviour  crested  no 
little  astonishment  among  the  guests, 
who  were  unacqoaoited  with  its  ori- 
gin. At  last  madam  exclaimed, 
"  There's  the  secret  for  you :  a 
woman  may  be  a  freemason  you 
see ;  and  you  shall  make  me  one  in 
spite  of  your  teeth."  "A  woooan 
may  not,"  rejoined  the  husband, 
<<  seeing  upon  every  trivial  occasion 
she  is  inclined  to  blab."  An  expla- 
nation followed,  aUeuded  withakM^ 
laugh,  which  when  madam  found  it 
was  at  her  own  exp^ense,  she  with- 
drew from  the  table  under  the  great- 
est mortification. 

VALUE  OF  ASSOCIATIONS. 

The  best  purposes  of  life  in  dril 
society,  have  led  men  to  such  asso- 
ciations. The  mysteries  of  Greece 
gave  freedom  to  the  sp'urit  even  of  a 
philosopher  in  the  days  of  anci«it 
liberty-.  Rome  consented  to  acc^ 
the  gif^.  Roman  citizenship  gave  a 
rich  value  to  association  in  civil  so- 
ciety ;  and  the  religious  orders  sup- 
ported the  cause  of  the  church,  bf 
extending  the  same  idea  to  the 
Christian  rdigion.  The  Jesuits  made 
the  bold  experiment  of  its  power, 
with  unexampled  success,  and  inigfat 
have  continued  in  glory,  had  tfi^ 
not  been  perverted  by  private  ambi- 
tion. Masons  have  not  made  ibMr 
er,  but  safer  experiment.  Without 
regard  to  forms  6f  government,  oc 
private  opinions,  it  embraces  every 
where  what  is  happy  for  man,  upon 
the  laws  of  his  own  constituti4Hi.  It 
puts  that  as  a  law,  which  is  found 
convenient ;  it  takes  up  so  much  of 
the  character  of  man,  as  agrees  with 
his  first  duties.  It  was  thus  the  oU 
Abbe  St.  Pierre  gave  the  elements  of 
his  project  for  a  perpetual  peace.^  ^ 
is  thus  Kent,  in  the  same  design, 
proposes  to  restore  confidence  amonf 

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AIASONIC* 


131 


inankindL  Our  principles  are  the 
sober  theory  of  human  nature^  which 
must  bless  the  world. 

Happy  then  must  we  be  in  our  an- 
cient institution.  Its  object  is  to  find 
a  home^  wherever  man  is  to»befbund. 
It  bids  every  brother  take  the  lessons 
of  his  duty  from  his  heart.  There  is 
DO.  obligation  of  gratitude,  but  go 
and  do  likewise.  It  is  man  it  loves ; 
and  with  God  it  unites  to  bless  him  in 
every  dime. 

SECRETS^OF  MASONRY. 

It  has  been  hinted  by  some  insi- 
dlbus  and  malevolent  characters,  who 
are  excluded  from  the  secrete  of  free- 
masonry, that,  therefore,  such  socie- 
ty cannot  be  good.  <<  If,'^  say  they, 
«*  their  meetings  be  for  the  promo- 
tion of  probity  and  virtue,  why  are 
there  so  many  secrete  ?'*  Nothing 
but  what  is  mischievous;  they  think, 
is  ever  concealed. 

The  philosophers  of  old  informed 
us,  that  to  be  secret  (or  silent)  was 
to  be  wise.  None  but  fools  babble ; 
wise  men  keep  their  counsel.  This 
is  surely  verified  in  the  present  times  i 
and  I  am  certain,  if  the  world  had 
been  acquointed  with  the  mysteries 
of  freemasonry,  notwithstanding  the 
many  excellencies  it  possesses,  it 
would  not  have  been  in  existence 
now;  for,  seeing  that  by  secrecy, 
friendship  is  {froved,  so  by  secrecy 
friends  are  united.  It  is  the  chain 
whidi  unites  our  hearts  and  afi*ec- 
tions ;  and  without  which  there  can 
be  n6  honour.  When  friends  part, 
they  should  faithfully  lock  up  in 
their  hearte  each  other's  secrete,  and 
exchange  k^s. 

But  why  is  It  supposed  that  secrete 
imply  some  mischievous  or  unwor- 
thy designs  ?•  Are  there  not  secrete 
in  every  family  ?  and  why  not  in  a 
society  ?  Does  not  a  member  there- 
by fed  himself  secure  ?  and  is  not 
he,  through  this  decorum ,  enabled 
to  relate  any  secret  misfortune  which 
he  would  be  very  loth  to  advertise 
the  put^c  of?   Secrecy  is  the  union 


of  hearte;  and  the  more  important 
the  secrete,  the  greater  is  his  confif 
dence  who  imparte  ^em;  the 
greater  his  honour  who  preser>'es 
Uiem. 

The  utility  of  having  secrete  in  a 
society  is  to  prove  by  secrecy,  that 
the  members  thereof  are  men  of 
probity,  truth,  and  honour ;  who  ca^ 
withstand  all  inducemente  to  violet 
tion  of  a  trust,  and  prove  themselv^ 
above  deceit,  and  too  strong  fm 
temptation.  I 

We  are  told  that  there  are  secrete 
above.  Many  of  the  divine  deter- 
minations no  men  knoweth,  not  even 
the  angeh  which  are  in  Heaven; 
and  seeing  that  we  are  enjoined  to 
be  storet  even  in  charity,  there  b,  to 
use  a  common  phrase,  much  virtue 
in  secrecy.  Why  then  attribute  to 
tlie  arcana  of  freemasonry  aught  that 
is  improper  or  ui^*ust,  when  the  most 
noble  of  all  virtues,  charity,  may,  for 
aught  they  know,  be  included  among 
tho«e  secrete  ? 

In  order  to  proye  the  utility  of  se- 
crecy, I  shall  here  delineate  two 
characters  which  form  a  perfect  con- 
trast:  Tom  Tattle  and  Jack  Wary. 

Tom  is  a  wild,  unthinking  fellow, 
so  much  addicted  to  loquacity,  that, 
if  intrusted  with  a  secret,  he  would 
die,  if  he  did  not  tell  it  immediately. 
Indeed,  Tom  Tattle  could  never 
keep  his  own  secrets :  the  conse- 
quences of  such  imprudence  have 
frequently  been  fatal.    He  once  lost 


a  place  by  too  freely  and  imguard- 
edlv  communicating  his  intention, 
and  the  source  of  his  interest,  by 


which  means  he  was  supplanted.— 
Another  time  he  lost  a  mistress  by 
expatiating  upon  her  charms,  and 
discovermg  that  she  had  a  fortune. 
Such  attractions  induced  one  of  the 
many  to  whom  he  imparted  this  se- 
cretf  to  become  acquainted  with  the 
lady,  and  poor  Tom  was  again  sup- 
planted !  Thb  imprudent  confi- 
dence has  likewise  subjected  him  to 
much  ridicule ;  his  disappointmente 


132 


MISCELLAM£0U5. 


as  they  were  consequently  known  to 
his  friends,  who,  according  to  cus- 
tom, forbore  not  to  deride  the  man 
who  could  not  be  silent  till  he  had  an 
occasion  to  speak.  Misfortunes  are 
rendered  double  by  becoming  pub- 
lic. Thus  it  is  with  Tom  Tattle  ;  he 
goes  to  every  one  to  let  them  know 
tfagt  he  intends  to  wait  on  my  lord 
tffiiorrow  t^task  such  a  favour.  To- 
morrow comes ;  andiie  is  obliged  to 
cAfess  his  lordship  refused  iiim. — 
^leneverany  one,  according  to  the 
usual  phrase,apd  as  a  prelude  to  some 
discovery,  says,  Can  you  be  secret? 
the  question  hurts  his  pride,  and  he 
promises  to  be  as  silent  as  the  grave; 
but  his  tongue,  like  the  tombstone, 
tells  every  passer-by  what  the  con- 
tents are.  This  has  brought  poor 
Tom  into  many  scrapes;  he  has 
been  obliged  to  fight  several  duels  ; 
but,  till  shot  through  the  head,  he 
will  never  be  able  to  keep  a  secret. 

No  so  witli  Jack  Wary.  He  is  so 
exceedingly  cautious  and  reserved, 
that  all  his  actions  are  to  himself  on- 
ly. No  one  knows  how  much  he 
owes,  or  how  much  is  due  to  him  ; 
yet  Jack  can  be  communicative  at 
times  5  it  is  not,  however,  to  Tom 
Tattle  that  he  would  impart  any  of 
his  secrets,  but  to  one  of  his  own 
stamp,  who  can  be  equally  prudent 
and  reserved. 

Such  is  the  character  of  Jack,  that 
his  friendship  is  universally  courted, 
lie  is  never  involved  in  any  quarrel ; 
he  never  ofiends  5  he  never  breaks 
his  word  ;  and,  as  he  troubles  no  one 
with  his  own  affairs,  of  course  he  es- 
capes all  the  sarcastic  rubs  of  his 
neighbours.  Notwithstanding,  Jack 
can  be  on  some  occasion  inquisitive ; 
he  will  be  curious  when  he  means  to 
be  of  service,  and  officious  when 
anxious  to  perform  the  task  of 
friendship.  In  thb  instance,  curio- 
sity is  laudable,  though  for  the  most 
part  reprehensible. 

These  two  characters  were  pro- 
posed to  a  lodge  for  admission. — 
Tom,  as  it  may  be  naturally  conclu- 


ded, was  rejected ;  while  Jack,  on 
account  of  his  well-known  prudenoe 
and  integrity,  was  immediately  ad- 
mitted :  he  soon  arrived  to  the  ho- 
nour of  becoming  master,  and  met 
with  the  warm  apprd>atioQ  of  hit 
brethren. 


AHIMAN  REZON. 

The  Ahiman  Rezon  is  a  code  of 
laws,  which  has  existed  from  Utae  im- 
memorial, for  the  government  of  the 
craft,  and  is  usually  denominated  the 
Book  of  ^Constitutions.  The  word 
AMtnan  signifies  ^'  a  brother  prep»* 
red,  or  brother  of  the  right  hand." 
The  word  AM  is,  literally  translated, 
the  "  brother  of  the  Lord."  Rezmi 
implies  either  lean^  stnaU,  tecreif  or 
prince.  These  words,  well  known  to 
the  fi^tcmity,  were  in  use  in  the  days 
of  our  illustrious  grand  master  Sok>- 
mon  ;  and  have  descended,  among 
many  other  things,  to  the  preseot 
fraternity  of  Free  and  Accepted  Ma- 
sons. , 

Since  the  grand  convocation  at 
York,  when  tlies^.  regulations  were 
systematized,  every  grand  lodge  has 
tlie  inherent  right  of  forming  an  ad- 
ditional code  for  the  better  preserva- 
tion of  the  lodges  immediately  under 
its  jurisdiction.  The  ancient  land- 
marks, however,  including  the  pruni- 
tive  Ahiman  Re^on,  ftre  preMTved 
unimpaired. 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


SIR  WALTER  RALEIGH. 

When  Raleigh  (sentenced  to  deaih 
by  the  contemptible  James)  was  upon 
the  soafibtd,  he  desired  the  spectators 
to  join  with  him  in  prayer  to  God, 
"whom,"  said  he,  "I  have  mofil 
grievously  oflended,  being  a  man  of 
vanity,  who  have  lived  a  sinful  life  in 
all  sinful  callings — for  I  have  been  a 
soldier,  a  captain,  a  sea-captain,  and 
a  courtier^  which  are  all  courses  of 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MltCnLLANEOUS. 


ISS 


;;'wkkediiess  and  vice.'*  Havings  put 
^off  his  doublet  and  gown,  he  de»ired 
the  executioner  to  show  his  axe.-— 
This  not  being  done  readily,  he  laid. 
^<  I  prithee  let  me  see  it.     Dost  thou 

'"■ ''  think  that  I  am  afraid  of  it  ?"  Upon 
jwhich  it  was  handed  to  him.  H^ 
Velt  the  edge  of  it,  and  smilingly  ob 

,\  served  to  the  Sheriff, "  This  is  a  sharp 
medicine  ;  but  it  is  a  physician  that 
will  cure  all  diseases."  ceing  asked 
which  way  he  wonid  lay  himself  on 
the  block,  he  replied,  «  So  that  the 
heart  be  right,  it  is  no  matter  which 

'  way  the  head  lieth."  And  on  the 
signal  being  given  by  himself,  the  ex- 
ecutioner beheaded  him  in  two  blows, 
his  body  never  shrinking  nor  moving. 
Lady  Raleigh  procured  his  head,  and 
kept  it  by  her  seventeen  years;  and 
his  son  Care w  afterwards  preserved  it 
with  equal  care  and  affection  Before 
bis  condemnation,  he  had  repeatedly 
said,  he  had  rather  die  in  the  way  he 
did,  than  by  a  burning  fever  ;  and  on 
the  scaffold  he  seemed  as  free  from 
all  apprehensions,  as  if  he  had  been 
a  spectator  and  not  the  sufferer — nei- 
ther voice  nor  countenance  failing 
him. 

THE  FLOATING  BEACON. 

(Concluded from  page  110.^ 

Next  day,  while  I  was  walking  the 
<leck,  and  anxiously  surveymg  the 
expanse  of  ocean  around,  Aiiger- 
stoff  requested  me  to  come  down  to 
the  cabin.  I  obeyed  his  summons, 
and  found  him  there.  He  gave  me 
alMiok,  saying  it  w^i  very  entertain- 
ing, and  would  serve  to  amuse  me 
during  «iy  idle  hours ;  and  then 
went  above,  shuttmg  the  d6ors  care- 
fully behind  him,  I  was  struck  with 
his  beha:viour,  but  felt  no'alarm,  for 
Marietta  sat  at  work  near  me,  appa- 
rently unconscious  of  what  had  pass- 
ed. I  began  to  peruse  the  volume  I 
held  in  my  hand,  and  found  it  so  in- 
teresting thati  paid  little  attention  to 
any  thing  else,  till  tlie  dashing  of  oars 
struck  my  ttur.    I  sprung  from  my 


chair,  wil^  the  intention  of  hastening 
upon  deck,  but  Marietta  stopped  me, 
saying,  "  It  is  of  no  use.  The  gang- 
way doors  are  fastened."  Notwith- 
standing this  information,  I  made  an 
attempt  to  open  them,  but  could  not 
succeed.  I  was  now  convinced,  by 
the  percussion  against  the  vessel, 
that  a  boat  lay  alongside,  and  IhesH^ 
a  strange  voice  addressing  Anger- 
stoff.  Fired  with  the  idea  of  d«|li- 
verance,  I  leaped  upon  a  table  whiph 
stood  in  the  middle  of  the  cabin,  and 
trTed  to  push  off  the  sky-light,  but 
was  suddenly  stunned  by  a  violent 
blow  on  the  back  of  my  head.  I 
staggered  back  and  looked  round. — 
Marietta  stood  close  behind  me, 
brandishing  an  axe,  as  if  in  the  act 
of  repeating  the  stroke.  Her  face 
was  flushed  with  rage,  and,  haying 
seized  my  arm,  she  cried,  "  Come 
down,  instantly,  accursed  villain  ! — 
I  know  you  want  to  betray  us ;  but 
may  we  all  go  to  the  bottom  if  you 
find  a  chance  of  doing  so."  I  strug- 
gled to  free  myself  fi"on»  her  grasp, 
but,  being  in  a  state  of  dizziness  and 
confusion,  I  was  unable  to  effect  this, 
and  she  soon  pulled  me  to  the 
ground.  At  that  moment,  Anger- 
stoff  hurriedly  entered  the  cabin,  ex- 
claiming, "  What  noise  is  this  ? — 
Oh,  just  as  I  expected  !  Has  that 
devil — tliat  spy — ^been  trying  to  get 
above  boards  ?  Why  haven't  I  the 
heart  to  despatch  him  at  once  ?  But 
there's  no  time  now.  The  people 
are  waiting — Marietta,  come  and 
lend  a  hand."  They  now  forced  me 
down  upon  the  floor,  and  bound  me 
to  an  iron  ring  that  was  fixed  in  it; 
This  being  done,  Angerstoff  direct- 
ed hb  female  accomplice  to  prevent 
me  from  speakmg,  and  went  upoE 
deck  again. 

While  in  this  state  of  bondage,  I 
heard  distinctly  all  that  passed  with- 
out. Some  one  asked  Angerstoff 
how  Morvalden  did.  "  WeD,  quite 
well,"  replied  the  former ;  "  but 
he's  below,  and  so  sick  that  he 
can't  see  any  person,.".    "  Strange 

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154 


utscKUJjatovs. 


enough,"   said  the   first   speoker, 
laughing.    ^  Is  he  ill  and  in  good 
health  at  the  same  time  ?    He  had 
as  well  be  overboard  as  in  that  conr 
dition.'^     "  Overboard  !'*  repeated 
AngerstofT,  "  what  ? — how  do  you 
mean? — aU   false  ! — but  Ibten  to 
me.    Are  there  any  news  stirring 
ashore?^'    "Why,"  said  the  stranr 
gcr,  "  the  chief  talk  there  just  now 
is  about  a  curious  thing  that  hap- 
pened tills  morning.     A  dead  man 
was  found  upon  the  beach^  and  they 
suspect,  Arom  the  wounds  on  his  bo* 
dy,  that  he  hasn't  got  fair  play.— - 
They  are  making  a  great  noise  about 
it,  and  government  means  to  send 
out  a  b^  with  an  officer  on  board, 
who  is  to  visit  all  the  shipping  round 
this,  that  he  may  ascertain  if  any  of 
them  has  lost  a  man  lately.    'Tis*  a 
dark  business ;  but  they'll  get  to  the 
bottom  of  it,  I  warrant  ve.     Why 
you  look  as  pale  as  if  you  knew  more 
about  this  matter  than  you  choose  to 
telL"    "  No,  no,  no,"  retun^ed  An- 
gerstoff,  I  never  heard  of  a  murder, 
but  I  think  of  a  friend  of  mme  who— 
but  I  won't  detain  you,  for  the  sea  is 
getting  up.     We'll  have  a  blowy 
night,  I'm  afraid."    "So  you  don't 
want  any  fish  to-day  ?"  cried  the 
stranger.    «  Then  I'll  be  ofi'—Good 
morning,  good  morning.    I  suppose 
you'll  have    the  government  t>oat 
alongside  by  and  bye."  I  now  heard 
the  sound  of  oars,  and   supposed 
from  the  conversation  having  ceased, 
that  fhe  fisherman  had   oeparted. 
Angerstoff  came  down  to  the  cabin 
^oon  afler,  and  released  me  without 
q>eaking  a  word. 

Marietta  then  approached  him, 
and  taking  hold  of  his  arm,  said,  "Do 
you  believe  what  that  man  has  told 
you."  "  Yes,  by  the  eternal  hell !" 
cried  he  vehemently ;  "  I  suspect  I 
will  find  the  truth  of  it  soon  enough." 
"  My  God  !  exclaimed  she,  "  what 
is  to  become  of  us  ?  How  dreadful ! 
We  are  chained  here,  and  cannot  es- 
cape." «  Escape  what  ?"  inter- 
rupted Angerstofi*^  "  gir)  you  have 


lost  your  senses.    Why  should  wtt 
fear  the  officers  of  justice  ?    Keep 
a  guard  over  yovor  tongue."  "CHi," 
returned  Marietta,  "I  talkwithoot 
thinking,  or  understandioff  my  own 
words;  but  come  upon  dedL,  and 
let  me  speak  with  you  there."  They 
now  went  up  the  gangway  stairs  to- 
gether, and  continned  in  deep  con- 
versation for  some  time. 
Angerstofi*  gradually  became  more 
agitsoed  as  the  day  advanced.    He 
watched  upon  deck  almost  without 
intermission,  and  seemed  irresolute 
what  to  do  ;  sometimes  sitdng  down 
composedly,  and  at  other  times  bur* 
rying  backwards  and  forwards,  with 
clenched  hands  and  bloodless  cheeks. 
The  wind  blew  pretty  fresh  fcom  the 
shore,  'and  there  was  a  heavy  swell ; 
and  I  supposed,  from  the  anxious 
looks  with  which  he  contemplated 
the  sky,  that  he  hoped  the  threaten- 
ing aspect  of  the  weather  would  pre- 
vent the  government  boat  (rom  pot^ 
ting  out  to  sea.     He  kept  his  glass 
constantly  in  his  hand,  and  surveyed 
the  ocean  through  it  m  all  directtons. 
At  length  he  suddenly  dashed  the 
instrument  away,   and  exclaimed, 
"  God  help  us  !  they  are  coming 
now  !"    Marietta,  on  hearing  this, 
ran  wildly  towards  him,  and  put  her 
hands  in  his,  but  he  pushed  her  to 
one  side,  and  beffan  to  pace  the 
deck,  apparently  m  deep  thought 
Aittf  a  little  time,  he  started  and 
cried,  ^  I  have  it  now  ! — Its  the  wi- 
ly plan— -I'll  manage  the  business- 
yes,  yes— -Fll  cut  the  cables,  and  off 
we'll  go— that's  settled  ?"  Heth«i 
seized  an  axe,  and  first  divided  the 
hawser  at  the  bows,  and  afteiwards 
the  one  attached  to  her  stem. 

The  vessel  immediately  began  to 
drift  away,  and^  having  no  helm  or 
sails  to  steady  hor,  roUed  with  such 
violence  that  I  was  dashed  from  side 
to  side  several  times.  She  often 
swung  over  so  much  that  I  thought 
she  would  not  regain  theupnght  po- 
sition, and  Angerstofi'alJ  the  while 
unconscious]^  streo^^theoed  thn  be- 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


JifSCBLLANBOUS. 


135 


lief  by  exdaimmg^  ^  She  will  cap- 
size J  shifl  the  balbst  or  we  must  go 
to  the  bottom  !''  In  the  midst  of 
this  I  kept  my  station  upon  deek,  in- 
tently watching  the  boat,  which  was 
still  several  miles  dbtant.  I  waited 
in  fearful  expectation,  thinking,  that 
every  new  wave  against  which  we 
were  impelled  would  burst  upon  our 
vessel  and  overwhelm  us,  while  our 
pursuers  were  too  far  off  to  afford 
any  assistance.  The  idea  of  perish- 
ing when  on  the  point  of  being  sa- 
ved, was  inexpressibly  agonizing. 

As  the  day  advanced,  the  hopes  I 
had  entertained  of  the  boat  making 
up  with  us  gradually  diminished. 
The  wind  blew  violently,  and  we 
drifte<f  along  at  a  rapid  rate,  and  the 
weather  grew  so  hazy  that  our  pur- 
suers soon  became  undistinguish- 
able.  Marietta  and  Angerstoff  ap- 
peared to  be  stupified  with  terror. 
They  stood  motiohless,holding  firm- 
ly by  the  bulwarks  of  the  vessel  5 
and  though  the  waves  frequently 
broke  over  the  deck,  and  rushed 
down  the  gangway,  they  did  not  of- 
fer to  shut  the  companion  door, 
which  would  have  remained  open, 
had  not  I  closed  it.  The  tempest, 
gloom^  and  danger,  that  thickened 
around  us,  neither  elicited  from  them 
any  expressions  of  mutual  regard, 
nor  seemed  to  produce  the  slightest 
sympathetic  emotion  in  their  bo- 
soms. They  gazed  sternly  at  each 
other  and  at  me,  and  every  time  that 
the  vessel  rolled,  clung  with  convul- 
sive eagerness  to  whatever  lay  with- 
in tlieir  reach. 

About  sunset  our  attention  was  at- 
tracted by  a  dreadful  roaring,  which 
evidently  did  not  proceed  from  the 
waVes  around  us;  but  the  atmos- 
phere being  very  hazy,  we  were  un- 
able to  ascertain  the  cause  of  it,  for 
a  long  time.  At  leneth  we  distin- 
guished a  range  of  high  cliffs,against 
which  the  sea  beat  with  terrible  fu- 
ry. Whenever  the  surge  broke  upon 
them,  Idrge  jets  of  foam  started  up 
to  a  great  height,  and  flashed  angri- 


ly over  their  black  and  rugged  sur- 
races,  while  the  wkyl  moaned  and 
whistled  with  fearful  caprice  among 
the  projecting  points  of  rock.  A 
dense  mist  covered  the  upper  part 
of  the  cliffs,  and  prevented  us  from 
seeing  if  there  were  any  houses  upon 
their  summits,  though  this  point  ap- 
peared of  little  importance,  for  we 
drifted  towards  the  shore  so  fast  that 
immediate  death  seemed  inevitable. 

We  soon  felt  our  vessel  bound 
twice  against  the  sand,  and,  in  a  lit- 
tle time  afler,  a  heavy  sea  carried 
her  up  the  beach,  where  she  remain- 
ed imbedded,  and  hard  a-ground. 
During  the  ebb  of  the  waves  there 
was  not  more  than  two  feet  of  water 
round  her  bows.  I  immediately 
perceived  this,  and  watching  a  fa- 
vourable opportunity,  swung  myself 
down  to  tne  beach,  by  means  of 
part  of  the  cable  that  projected 
through  the  hawse-hole.  I  began 
to  run  towards  tlie  cliffs,  the  moment 
my  feet  touched  the  ground,  and 
Angerstoff  attempted  to  follow  me, 
that  he  might  prevent  my  escape  ; 
but  while  in  the  act  of  descendftng 
from  the  vessel,  the  sea  flowed  in 
with  such  violence,  that  he  was  obli- 
ged to  spring  on  board  again  to  save 
himself  from  being  overwhelmed  by 
its  waters. 

I  hurried  on  and  began  to  climb 
up  the  rocks,  which  were  very  steep 
and  slippery ;  but  I  soon  grew 
breathless  from  fatigue,  and  foiind  it 
necessary  to  stop.  It  was  now  almost 
dark,  and  when  I  looked  around,  I 
neither  saw  any  thing  distinctly,  nor 
could  form  the  least  idea  how  far  I 
had  still  to  ascend  before  I  reached 
the  top  of  the  cliffs.  I  knew  not 
which  way  to  turn  my  steps,  and  re- 
mained irresolute,  till  the  barking  of 
a  dog  faintly  struck  my  ear  5  I  joy- 
fully followed  the  sound,  and  afler 
an  hour  of  perilous  exertion,  discov- 
ered a  light  at  some  distance,  which 
I  soon  found  to  proceed  from  the 
window  of  a  small  hut. 

Afler  I  had  knocked  repeatedly. 


1S6 


MISCSLLANEOUS. 


the  door  w^as  opened  by  an  old  man, 
with  a  lamp  in  bis  hand.  He  started 
back  on  seeing  me,  for  my  dress  was 
wet  and  disordered,  my  face  and 
hands  had  been  wounded  while 
scrambling  among  the  rocks,  and 
fatigue  and  terror  had  given  me  a 
wan  and  agitated  look.  I  entered 
the  house,  the  inmates  of  which 
were  a  woman  and  a  boy ;  and  hav- 
ing seated  myself  near  the  fire,  rela- 
ted to  my  host  all  that  had  occurred 
on  board  the  floating  beacon,  and 
then  requested  him  to  accompany 
me  down  to  the  beach,  that  we 
might  search  for  Angerstoff  and 
Marietta.  "  No,  no,"  cried  he, 
"  that  is  impossible.  Hear  how  the 
storm  rages  !  Worlds  would  not 
induce  me  to  have  any  communica- 
tion with  murderers.  It  would  be 
impious  to  attempt  it  on  such  anight 
as  this.  The  Almighty  is  surely 
punishing  them  now  !  Come  here, 
and  look  out." 

I  followed  him  to  the  door,  but  the 
moment  he  opened  it,  the  wind  ex- 
tinguished the  lamp.  Total  daric- 
ness  prevailed  without,  and  a  chaos 
of  rushing,  bursting,  and  moaning 
sounds,  swelled  upon  the  ear  with 
irregular  loudness.  The  blast  swept 
round  the  hut  in  violent  eddyings, 
and  we  felt  the  chilly  spray  of  the 
aea  driving  upon  our  fuces  at  inter- 
vals. Ifihuddered,  and  the  old  man 
closed  the  door,  and  then  resumed 
his  seat  near  the  fire. 

My  entertainer  made  a  bed  for  me 
upon  the  floor,  but  the  noise  of  the 
tempest,  and  the  anxiety  I  felt  about 
the  fate  of  AngerstoiTand  Marietta 
kept  me  awake  the  greater  part  of 
the  night.  Soon  after  dawn  my  host 
accompanied  me  down  to  the  beach. 
We  found  th^  wreck  of  the  floating 
beacon,  but  were  unable  to  discover 
any  traces  of  the  guilty  pair  whom  I 
had  left  on  board  of  it. 


I  do  not  believe,  says  Carpentier, 
that  those  who  are  unintelligible,  are 


very  mteliigent.  QuintiHian  has  just- 
ly observed,  that  the  obscurity  of  & 
writer  is  generally  in  proportion  to 
his  incapacity.— oDem.  Press, 


GOSSIPPIXG, 

A   niALOOUE    FROM   LIFE. 

Mrs,  L.  Ah  !  Mra.  B.  I  am  glad 
to  see  you.  How  do  you  do, 
ma'am  ? 

Mrs.  B,  Why,  ma'am,  not  veiy 
well.  I  have  had  a  cold  for  several 
days.  Last  Thursday  niffht  I  went 
to  pay  a  visit  to  our  new  n^ghbour, 
and  didn't  put  on  a  sha^'^  you 
know  the  weather  was  quite  cool^ 
and  Mr.  B.  advised  me  to  put  onone^ 
but  I  says  to  him,  says  I 

Mrs,  JL.  O,  ma^am,  did  you  know 
Sammy  WifTet  is  going  to  be  mar- 
ried to  his  rich  cousin  at  last?    I  al- 
ways told  you  it  would  be  a  match. 
The  family,  I  knew,  would  never  let 
such  a  fine  fortune  go  out  of  it.    I 
am  told  they  are  going  to  hveat  her 
fathes's  on  the  North  River.     I  pity 
her,  poor  thing,  for  that     The  old 
lady,  I  understand,  has  not  the  best 
temper  in  the  world.     Besides,  I  am 
told,    she  is    not  heartily  for  the 
match.     She  thinks  the  girl  and  boj 
are  too  young  for  marriage ;   and, 
'pon  my  word,  I  think  so  too.    I  do 
assure  you  she  is  no  more  than  fiA 
teen  ;  and  he,  I  can't  tell  his  age  ex- 
actly, but  I  remember  he  was  bora 
about  the  time  of  my  Jemmy^s  mar- 
riage ;  and  that  is,  let  me  see,  aexl 

November  will    be— pray, 

(looking  out  at  the  window)  whose 
coach  is  that  ?  , 

Mrs.  B.  Why,  -ma'am,  I  douh 
know  ;  some  upstart's,  I  dare  say ; 
but  my  cold's  so  distressing,  and  I 
have  not  been  out  of  the  house  these 
5ve  days,  and  faavo'r  seen  a  soul  at 
home,  and  just  run  over  to  have  t 
Utile  chat. with  you,  ijiough  Mr.  B. 
was  much  against  my  going  out  till  I 
am  quite  recovered.  '  If  yotr  most 
go,'  says  he,  <  be  sure  to  put  on  •* 


WSOStLAlfSOVS. 


187 


duml''  So  I  says  to  Betty,  «  Bet- 
ty,**  sap  I,  *^  do  rim  up  to  my  room 
•ad  bring  — — /' 

jlfr9.  L.  Ah,  ma'am,  now  I  think 
of  it,  let  me  ask  you  if  you've  heard  || 
whether  the  Calthorpes  are  going  to  I 
stay  in  their  house  this  year  ?  I  'm 
told  they're  going  to  give  it  up,  and 
going  to  live  m  the  country  :  busi- 
ness is  so  duU)  and  Mrs.  Calthorpe's 
health  is  so  bad,  and  their  young 
cbildren,  and  altogether,  make  them 
resolve  to  go  into  the  country.  So 
tfaey  give  out;  but  I  understand  the 
true  reason  is,  Mr.  Caithorpe's  af- 
fiiirs.  But  I  beg  youll  not  mention 
this  again  as  coming  from  me ;  it's 
mere  report,  and  I  dare  say  an't  true ; 
but  I  just  tell  you  what  I've  heard  : 
it  was  whispered  to  me  as  a  great  se- 
cret, by  Mrs,  Pry,  who  told  me  not 
to  mention  it  to  any  body,  and  I 
wouldn\  except  to  a  particular 
ftiend  who  will  keei^  it  to  herself. 
Mr.  CaHhorpe's  affairs  are  quite  de- 
rangedj  and  he  leaves  town  to  pre- 
vent his  ruin ;  and  that,  I  think,  is 
quite  prudent  To  be  sure,  he's 
lived  in  too  high  a  style  since  his 
marriage.  His  wife  had  no  fortune; 
he  married  her  a  poor  ga^al^  an  or- 
phan, poor  thing,  and  living  altoge- 
ther on  her  aunt,  who  brought  her 
up.  Pray,  ma'am,  h^ve  you  heard 
any  thing  of  thei^  i^airs  ? 

Mrs,  B.  Why,  ma'am,  now  you 
put  me  in  mind  ;  I  think  I  did  hear 
something  of  these  folks.  A  gentle- 
man, a  rmtion  of  my  husband's,  a 
Mr.  ,  I  declare  I've  forgot  his 

name,  a  tall,  portly  man.  Mr.  B. 
invited  him  to  dine  with  us  on  Sun- 
day, and  told  me  his  name.  The 
day  before,  he  says  to  me,  says  he, 
Let's  have  something  nice  to-mor- 
row, fi»  I've  asked  Mr.  ■  ,  I 
can't  think  of  his  name  ;  I  wonder 
I'm  so  forgetful ;  but  my  cold's  so 
troublesome  that  I  don't  remember 
nothing.  I  wanted  to  take  advice, 
but  Mr.  B.  li||»ghed  me  out  of  it. — 
^  Wouldnk  it  be  as  well,"  says  I, 
my  dear,  to  send  for  Dr.Bolus ? 

VOL.  II.  18 


Pm  afraid,''  says  I,  <^this  shocking 
cold  will  settle  on  my  lungs."  This 
was  mi  Friday  night  aboutdusk ;  sod 
just  as  I  was  speaking,  who  should 
go  by  but  the  doctor  himself.  So 
my  husbaikd  called  him  in,  and  so- 
il^. L.  Ah,  ma'am,  that  puts  me 
in  Dund  of  something  I  wanted  to 
ask  you.  Pm  tokl  Dr.  Bolus  is  real- 
ly engaged  to  the  widow  Waddle, 
and  that  th^'re  to  be  married  very 
shortly.  The  wklow,  I  understand^ 
has  a  pretty  sang  estate,  and  no 
children,  and  the  doctor's  practice, 
they  tell  me,  b  lessening  every  day, 
since  that  unfortunate  miiAdce  of  his 
with  Polly  PepperiH's  child.  I  sup- 
pose you've  heard  of  this  story. — 
The  poor  chiki  was  drooping  for 
some  time,  and  the  doctor  was  <^led, 
and  he  said  it  was  the  meazles,  and 
that  no  time  wasn't  to  be  lost;  and 
he  physiek'd  and  ph3r8ich'd  till  the 
ppor  child  actually  died.  'Twas  a 
sad  mistake  indeed,  of  the  doctor's. 
I'm  told  the  family  was  very  angry, 
and  the  doctor  hasn't  held  up  his 
head  since.  It's  high  time  the  doctor 
was  married,  if  he  means  to  be  at 
all;  though,  for  my  part,  I  can't  say 
I'm  over-rond  of  late  marriages. — 
What  do  you  think,  ma'am  ? 

Mrs.  B.  Why,  ma'am,  I  must 
needs  say  I  don't  like  them  at  all.  I 
was  married  myself  at  seventeeui 
and  I'm  sure  I  have  no  reason  in  the 
world  to  repent  that  I  was  married  so 
early.  Mr.  B.  was  four  years  older 
than  I  was;  but  twenty-one,  you 
know,  ma'am,  is  quite  young  for  a 
man :  and  Mr.  B.  was  in  a  good  way 
of  business  to  maintain  a  family : 
and,  to  be  sure,  we've  had  a  famdy 
to  maintain;  for  Mr.  B's.  sisters 
were  dependent  on  him.  They  lived 
at  our  house  till  they  were  married. 
When  Jemmy  Mather  courted  Patty, 
who  was  t^ie  last,  I  was  heartily  glaa ; 
for  you  can't  think,  ma'am,  how  di&- 
agreeaUe  it  is  to  have  many  mis- 
tresses in  a  family.  When  the  wed- 
ding was  fixed,  "  I'm  sure."  says  I 
to  Mr.  B.  "  I'm  glad  on't.  The  poor 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


13S 


iaS€BLLAMB#U8< 


girl  win  get  a  husband  at  last,'^  says 
I,  "and  that's  what  shc^s  wanted,^ 
says  I,  ^«a  long  tiinc.'^  Patty  was 
quite  too  fine  a  lady  for  me;  and 
she  greatly  imposed  upon  her  bro- 
ther's goodnature.  She  used  to 
teaze  him  for  tickets  to  the  play, 
and  ,the  assemblies.  One  night  we 
made  up  a  party  — — 

Mr9.  L.  Ah,  ma'am,  now  you 
talk  of  maiden  sisters,  what,  I  won- 
der, will  become  of  Betsey  Bolus,  if 
he  marries?  I  am  told  she's  no 
friend  to  the  match.  The  widow,  I 
understand,  made  it  a  condition  with 
the  doctor,  that  Betsey  should  live 
somewhere  else.  She  is  quite  of 
your  opinion,  that  one  mistress  in  a 
family  is  enough.  And  Betsey,  they 
teU  me,  is  a  little  of  the  old  maid  in 
her  temper  :  peevish  as  the  deuce ; 
always  quarrelling  with  Ae  maids. 
The  doctor  can't  keep  a  servant  more 
than  a  month.  The  girl  who  lives 
with  me  Hved  with  them  some  time, 
and  tells  odd  stories  of  Miss  Betsey's 
peevishness. 

Mrs.  B.  O  dear  !  it's  clouded  up, 
I  see.  It  looks  very  like  for  rain. 
I  must  run  home  before  it  wets,  or  I 
shall  only  increase  my  cold.  Mr. 
B.  made  me  promise  to  come  home 
if  there  was  the  least  sign  of  rain  ; 
so,  good  night,  ma'am.  Pray  come 
over  soon ;  it's  a  long  time  since 
you've  called,  and  I  hopeyoull  come 
shortly.    Good  night. 

Mrs.  L.  La,  ma'am,  what's  your 
hurry  ?  Do  stay  a  little  longer  and 
take  tea  :  it's  just  coming  in. 

Mrs,  B.  Can't,  indeed,  ma'am. 
Good  night,  good  night. 


HYMN. 

JcBOTAR  spake !  wide  Chaos  heard, 
And  bowkiff  to  his  sovereign  word, 

Confusion,  darkness  fled  ;■ 
IVhile  from  the  deep,  the  void  profound, 
Celestial  splendours  shone  around 

And  new-bom  beauties  spread. 

Up  rose  the  Sun  in  cloudless  light, 
Aud  at  meridian  strength  and  neigbt 


Biam'd  fttm  hb  ladUat  tfaran« 
The  Moon  was  rob'd  in  silver  r^s. 
And  mild  reflecting  solar  blase  ; 

Bright  gem'd  the  starry  a 


The  morning  Star  lets  lucid  still. 
Was  orient  seen  above  the  hill, 

And  led  the  van  of  day  ; 
While  twice  ten  thousand  worids  of  1i^ 
Wide  voasd  the  gloom  of  ancieDt  oigbt 

Shed  Wisdom's  mildest  ny. 

«  Let  these  be  siens !"  Jbsotab  said; 
From  pole  to  pole  the  signs  wete  sfiread, 

And  HORTALB  bade  them  haSH  *. 
For  Wisdom,  Love,  and  Power  shall  be 
Thy  signs,  O  God,  and  lead  to  The«, 

B^ond  dbatb's  cloudy  vale- 


WIER'S  CAVE- 


The  following  description  of  a 
cave  in  Augusta  county,  Viiginta,  k 
given  by  general  Calvin  Johes^'Id 
a  letter  to  a  gendeman  inNcgrtlhCa- 
rolina,  fVom  whom  it  was  comromu- 
cated  to  the  editor  of  the  Rale^fa 
Star,  for  publication.^  To  those  of 
our  readers  who  have  ^ot  seen  it, 
particularly  that  part  of  them  who 

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139 


are  tMighted  m  the  research  for 
the  hidden  curiosities  of  nature,  and 
a  display  of  the  wondersof  the  Great 
Architect  of  the  Universe,  it  will  be 
peculiarly  interesting ;  and  those  who 
ha^e  had  the  pleasure  of  perusing  it 
before,  will  undoubtedly  cmisider  it 
worthy  of  a  more  permanent  preser- 
vation than  it  could  receive  in  the 
columnt  of  a  common  newspaper. 
The  wood  cut  at  the  head,  was  en- 
graved for  the  Masonic  Register,  by 
the  artist  Lansino^  146  Cherry- 
street,  New-York. 

My  Dbak  Sib, 

Detained  here  (for  this  day  at 
least)  by  arain,  I  will  occupy  a  part 
of  the  lebure  it  allows,  by  an  ende»- 
vour  to  make  you  participate  in 
some  degree  in  the  pleasures  my 
tour  has  afforded  me;  and  as  I 
kaow  the  interest  you  take  in  the 
rude,  but  bold  workmanship  of  na- 
ture, I  will  give  you  an  account, 
thou^  a  brief  and  imperfect  one,  of 
a  place  very  little  known,  where  she 
has  made  some  of  her  hapj^est  d*- 
forts. 

Since  my  last  from  Winchester,  I 
have  visited  the  Caves  in  Augusta, 
and  the  Natural  bridge  in  the  county 
to  which  it  has  given  name.  The 
former  exceeded,  but  the  latter  did 
not  equal  my  expectations.  I  saw 
the  bridge,  ipresyume,  under  circum- 
stances that  were  not  lavouraMe  to 
the  emotions  of  the  sublime.  I  had 
a  little  before  seen  the  grand,  ro- 
mantic scenery  at,  and  around  Har 
per's  Ferry,  where  the  Potomac 
passes  through  the  Blue  Ridge.  1 
had  just  beheld  the  wonderous  sub- 
terranean palaces  in  Augusta ;  every 
step,  as  I  advanced  up  the  rich  and 
beautiful  valley  of  Shenandoah, 
bounded  on  one  side  by  the  Blue 
Ridge,  and  on  the  othefeby  the 
North  Mountains,  resented  objects 
calculated  to  ke^th^ sublime  emo- 


tions in  a  constant  state  of  excitep 
ment  Besides,  my  expectations 
concerning  the  bridffe,  were  too 
highly  raued  by  Mr.  Jefferson's 
splendid  and  fanciful  description  of 
it.  When  I  saw  it  I  felt  disappoint- 
ed. I  walked  to  the  edge,  and  look- 
ed down  without  feeling  terror. — 
I  went  below  and  looked  up,  and 
was  not  astonished.  It  indeed  pos- 
sesses grandeur  and  sublunity  ;  but 
to  mv  mind,  Wibr's  Cavs  is  best 
worth  the  attention  of  the  traveller. 
There  eveiy  thing  that  the  mind  can 
conceive  of  the  grand  and  beautiful, 
is  realized.  The  bridge  affords  only 
two  or  three  views — ^the  cave  a 
thousand. 

In  my  progress  up  the  valley,  I 
was  attracted  to  Madison's  Cave  by 
Mr.  Jefferson's  description  of  it,  but 
had  much  difficult  in  obtainbg  di- 
rections where  to  nnd  it,  other  than 
those  obtained  in  the  Notes.  Maps 
of  Virginia  I  could  no  where  meet 
with,  though  I  made  diliffent  inqui- 
ry, except  the  old  one  of  Fry  and 
Jeffreys,  which  I  saw  at  FraveFs  in 
Wooiutock;  so  that  it  was  not  until 
I  had  arrived  within  20  miles  of  the 
caVe  I  could  ascertain  its  place,  and 
there  I  learned  for  the  first  time  that 
another  Cavb  had  recently  been 
discovered  near  it,  and  so  ^  sur- 
passing it  in  extent  and  grandeur, 
that  Madison's  had  ceased  to  be  an 
object  of  curiosity. 

I  found  the  caves  to  be  in  the  N. 
E.  corner  of  Augusta  county,  very 
near  the  Rockingham  line,  two  miles 
from  Port  Republic,  a  little  town  at 
the  confluence  of  the  two  branches 
of  the  Shenandoah,*  a  little  out  of 
the  direct  route  from  New  Marketto 
Staunton,  thirty  miles  from  the  for- 
mer, and  seventeen  firom  the  latter 
place,  increasing  the  distance  be* 
tweenthem  three  or  four  miles,  but 
more  than  compensating  tfae^  travel 

*  Pronounced  widi  a  full  accent 
on  the  first  and  last  syllaUes,  <<  Shan- 
nondore." 

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140 


MtUmUiMMOVg. 


ter  (patdng  olber  ooupkleratkiiitcNtt 
of  the  questioii)  at  thif  season  of  the 
year,  by  the  superior  quality  of  Ae 
nMKt  This  pkce  am  be  virited 
tmm  Charlottville,  on  the  ether  side 
of  the  Bhie  Ridge,  S2  miles  distant, 
by  a  tiurnpike  road  through  Brown's 

fEip.  To  Richmond  is  120  miles, 
expeet  vou  would  prefer  the  route 
to  Brown's  gap,  as  MonticeUo  would 
then  be  in  vour  way. 

The  kill  in  which  the  caves  are, 
pretents  aperpendicular  front  of  200 
feet  in  height  to  the  south  branch  of 
the  Shenandoah,  looking  ncMrtheast- 
eify  towards  the  Blue  Mountains, 
three  miles  distant  beyond  the  river. 
Its  front  on  the  river  b  about  half  a 
mile,  but  spreading  wider  as  it  re- 
cedes, its  height  dedinesgradually 
back  until  it  dissolves  into  the  plain. 
Of  Madison's  Cave  I  shall  say  but 
little,  Mr.  Jefierson's  description  of 
it  being  ample.  It  derives  its  name 
from  die  lather  of  the  late  bishop 
Madison,  who  resided  near  it;  and 
who,  when  alive,  was  equally  fianed 
ibr  his  hospitality,  his  practical  wit, 
(which  lay  more  in  his  beds  and 
fingers  flwn  in  his  head)  and  his 
c<mvivial  disposition.  It  has  been 
known  60  or  fO  years,  but  is  now 
IMe  visited  as  a  curiosity.  The 
'  earth  in  it  aflft>rds  Salt  Petre  m 
the  proportion  of  from  two  to  four 
lbs.  to  the  bushel;  2000  weight 
was  manufactured  here  durkig  the 
last  two  years.  The  earth  when 
brought  out,  is  at  the  mouth  of  the 
cave,  put  into  a  plank  gutter  which 
conducts  it  to  the  bank  of  the  river 
at  the  bottom  of  the  hul,  where  it  is 
put  into  the  tubs  or  vats  miiced  with 
wood  ashes;  water  is  p^Ksed  through 
ity  and  this  is  evapora^  toa  salt  bv 
boiling.  The  lakes  of  water  which 
are  found  at  the  extremity  of  the 
cave  have  been  navigated  by  a  boat, 
and  thoroughly  explored  since  Mr. 
Jefferson  wrote.  They  are  30  or 
40  feet  deep,  and  hounded  on  the 
furthest  extremity  by  rocks  sc; 
abrupt,  that  a  footing  can  no  where 


be  had,  limiting  Iblr  the  ^ 
further  discoveries  in  that  dmcuiom 
I  advised  the  proprietor  to  put  fish 
into  them,  which  he  promisea  to  do, 
so  that  visitants  may  prolnJily  in  a 
few  years  add  flihtn|[  to  thecnter- 
tainments  afforded  by  ^  excwmoi. 

Madison's  Cave,  as  you  know 
from  Mr.  Jefferson's  descnptjon,  has 
its  entrance  about  two-thiras  of  the 
way  to  the  top  of  the  hiH,  omaie* 
diatety over  the  riw.  Thenxmtfa 
of  Wier's  Cave  is  parafid  to  it  in  the 
same  hill,  two  or  three  hundred 
yards  further  up  the  river.  Madi- 
son's Cave  penetrates  125  yards, 
Wier's  900.  This  last  was  disooveiw 
ed  in  February,  1806,  by  the  man 
whose  name  it  bears,  and  this  I  pro- 
pose to  give  you  some  fhint  idea  of 
by  a  desOTiption  brief,  and  neeesMSi- 
)y  very  imperfect.  But  to  obviale 
its  iflftperfections,  and  aid  your  con- 
prehension,  I  herewith  give  yon  the 
outlines  of  its  course  ami  apan- 
ments,  incM-ect  im>  doubt,  hvt,  bear- 
ing some  resemblance  to  what  it 
would  represent,  and  the  best  I  am 
able  to  offer.  The  letters  in  the 
plan  will  be  referred  to  in  the  couise 
of  ourroote.  The  index  poiats  to 
the  entrance  :  the  arrows  mark  the 
descent  in  places  where  it  is  most 
considetaUe. 

The  cave  is  solid  hmeskme,  soaM* 
times  ascending,  bataaoDecdnunoa- 
ly  descending  in  its  oourse,  narrow 
ancTlow  at  t&  entrance,  but  incieas* 
iflg  in  height  as  you  advanee,  mrtl 
it  becomes  80  or  90  f^et  Irigh.— 
Water  b  oomtamly  dropping  ^txm 
the  arch  and  trickling  down  ttie  sides, 
not  in  quantitieB  siSSIcient  to  aiecc 
the  lights,  or  incommode  visiton. 
This  forms  stalactites  of  every  pes* 
sible  form,  and  every  variety  of  beau- 
ty. The  colours  are  for  the  most 
part  white,  but  sometimes  red,  and 
occasionally  variegated.  It  is  not 
every  where  that  stone  is  fbrraed  by 
this  percehition  of  the  water.  Soaw 
times  it  finds  little  basons  fonnadtn 
receive  it,  and  again  dtere  are  t 

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141 


liiMQgii  lAkh  it  ftUs  md  dkap- 

The  entnmce  m  dosed  by.  a  door 
of  two  feet  and  ahidfyorthrttefeet 
miiMpf  >    Yon  grope  through  a  nar^ 
row  ptttsagefuo^yooreadithe  Anti- 
Chamber,  (A)  vhoBearcfa^  12  or  13 
feet  Mghy  b  nifqpDfted  b^  fMllarB  in 
tbe  centm*    On  the  left  is  a  reoess 
difficult  to  tEaEvene^oa  accoantof  the 
1h^  mishapen  rocks  which  are  eve- 
ry where  tltfown  riuMy  aixMit  it. — 
Front  the  Ami-Chwmber  you  enter 
a  narrow  passage^  oreep  in  oMe  piace^ 
smd  incline  your  body  obliquefy  to 
the  left^  between  two  sheets  of  rock 
ill  another*  Descending  soaae  hewn 
atqpS)  aad  a  wooden  kdder^  yon 
coow  into  Solomon^  T&ajpht  (0) ; 
on  the  left  is  a  brge  fluted  conmn 
called  Solomon's  PUhur^  ^Euid  on  the 
sides  of  the  apartment  are  curtains 
descending  m  wave*hke  folds  from 
the  ceiling  to  the  floor.     Therocmi 
is25feethiglu     A  recess  on  the  left 
contains  a  fine  basin  of  water^  and  is 
called  the  Beur  Room*    Ascending  a 
ladder  you  find  yourself  on  a  steep 
narrow  rock,  from  which  you  look 
back  and  see  the  various  beauties  of 
tiie  Temple  to  great  advantaffe.*— 
By  another  ladder  you  descend  into 
d»  Curtain  Room,  (C)  which  is  pro* 
fhsely  ornamented  with  a  great  va- 
riety of  beautiful  drapery.    There 
k  such  elegance  and  regularity  in 
these  ornaments,  that,   if  seen  ya 
sonll  detached  parts,  it  would  be 
difficult  to  persuade  one  that  they 
were  not  works  of  art    The  cur- 
tains usually  descend  from  the  arch 
to  the  floor  on  the  sktes  of  the  cave, 
and  are  from  5  to  6  feet  wkle,  and 
fitHn  2  inches  to  half  an  inch  thick- 
ness.     Th^    hang    from   six  to 
twelve  inches  asunder,  and  are  com- 
monly white  and  tnunqparent    As 
the  dirapery  in  this  apartment  is  the 
most'remarkahle,  though  it  is  foimd 
in  every  part  of  the  cavern,  it  may 
be  well  now,  once  for  all,  to  take  a 
passmg  notkx  of  twoforms  that  most 
frequentlpoccurinevery  part  of  the 


cavern.  Theeimileffer  wiS  seetiia 
best  exaln^bB  oi  each  in  Ae  Sofa 
and  Gallery,  presently  to  be  vasxh 
tiooed.  At  ^e  upper  edge  of  the 
valance  where  the  depending  part 
commences,  there  is  a  cordon  ruA* 
ning  roi^d  eadi.  From  this  the 
curtain  descends  a  foot  or  two,  solid, 
but  in  the  eoe  uideDted  by  semicir- 
cular cavities  about  two  inches  in 
cord,  parallel  and  exactly  uniform  $ 
in  the  other,  instead  of  cavities  there 
is  precisely  as  mnck  projection,  and 
the  proportions  in  bo^  are  as  regu- 
lar md  exact,  as  if  ihey  had  been 
prochiced  by  the  chissel  of  the  artist* 

The  Tambourin  or  Music  Room 
(D")  is  nexLi  This  dbounds  with 
stURcdtes  similar  to  the  curtains  in 
the  prcbeding  rooms,  but  finer  and 
more  variouriy  toned,  and  the  room 
is  better  calculated  for  eOect  These 
tones  (produced  by  striking)  are  va^ 
rious  and  good,  and  were  the  notes 
ascertained,  which  each  would  pro- 
duce, a  skilful  hand  could  draw  mit- 
sic  from  them.  You  now  asoend  a 
a  natural  and  w^  formed  staircase, 
running  across  the  passage  with  a 
row  of  banisters  along  it,  <^  a  proper 
height  for  the  hand  to  rest  on ;  and 
then  descending  a  ladder  into,  the 
Ban  Room,  (E)  which  b  100  feet 
lonff,  and  the  arch  15  to  20  feet 
high.  The  floor  issmooth  and  level, 
and  the  sides  ornamented  with  cur- 
tains, colonnades,  and  various  re- 
semblances to  household  furniture. 
Betsy's  Sofa  is  remarkable  here  for 
its  elegance  and  resemblaQce  to  art. 
The  floor  has  evidentlv  been  lower- 
ed in  time.  Some  of  the  cokmrns 
are  ruptured  and  dtssevered  in  the 
middle  of  the  shaft,  and  do  not  meet 
by  some  inches.  Others  havefdlen 
smd  lie  in  ruins. 

The  curious  explorer  now  comes 
to  the  most  straitened  passage  in  the 
cavern,  (F)  and  which  was  mr  some 
tinge  the  boundary  of  the  discoveries 
in  it.  The  way,  though  enlarged 
beyond  its  original  dtmensions,  is 
steep,  nacrow,  and  difficult.      He 

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143 


mSGXLLAlfSOtJI. 


must  creep  cm  aMoun,  and  od  ac- 
count of  Its  descent  must  go  back- 
wards.  He  is  covered  widi  mud, 
fatigued  with  hb  posture  and  exer- 
tbns,  and  it  is  well  if  his  head  and 
back  escape  a  rude  contact  with  the 
rough  stones  above  him.  At  length 
he  regains  his  feet;  looks  back 
upon  &e  narrow  aperture  by  which 
he  entered,  reflects  that  he  is  almost 
•  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  regions 
of  upper  air,  carries  his  candle  with 
more  steady  hand,  and  feels  himself 
entombed.      Knowing  that  our  cor- 

Eulent  acquaintance,  Mrs.  T  , 

ad  visited  this  cavern,  I  asked  my 
guide  if  she  passed  these  straits.  He 
assured  me  tnat  she  did  ;  ^^  that  she 
crept,  and  stumbled,  and  sUd  along 
like  an  otter,  and  got  through  with- 
out any  sort  of  difficulty,  and  what 
was  more,''  he  added,  ^^  no  woman 
ever  yet  stopped  half  way ;  they 
always  went  to  the  extremity.'' 

Descending  some  steps  Kewn  out 
of  the-rock,  called  Jacob's  Ladder, 
you  enter  the  Vestibule,  (G)  the 
arch  of  which  is  about  the  same 
height  as  that  of  the  Temple.  On 
your  left  as  you  enter,  a  horizontal 
sheet  of  stone,  a  foot  thick,  and  20 
feet  in  diameter,  projects  from  the 
side  of  the  cave  about  midway  be- 
tween the  floor  and  the  ceiling,  call- 
ed Mark's  Gallery.  This  is  a  stri- 
king object  flrom  its  rich  ornaments. 
Connected  with  this  Vestibule  is  the 
Saloon  (H).  Returning  and  enter- 
ing a  passage  on  the  lef^  Washing- 
ton's Hall,  (I^  the  grandest  part  of 
the  cavern  is  open  to  your  view. — 
Tou  stand  at  the  entrance ;  the 
glides  go  forward  and  arrange  lights 
at  certain  distances.  The  long  level 
floor  rings  beneath  their  tread. — 
you  see  Uiem  at  a  hundred  paces 
distance,  and  hear^eir  voices  re- 
sounding from  the  arch  that  rises 
sublimely  eighty  feet  over  your  head. 
Every  drop  of  water  that  falls  rings 
in  your  ears.  On  your  right  is  a 
row  of  marble  statues.  In  the  cen- 
tre,   before  the  entracce  of  Lady 


Waahinffton's  Dranring  Room,  it  • 
statue  of  noble  mein  ai^  fair  propoi^ 
tions,  in  the  habiliments  of  an  an* 
cient  Roman,  called  Washington^ 
You  gaze  and  listen  inalentr^iciire. 
At  length  you  are  roused  fhmi  dv 
enchantments  of  the  jBcene  Inr  being 
reminded  by  your  guides,  raatyoa 
have  still  much  to  see.  Lad  v  Wash- 
ington's Drawing  Room,(lC;  is  next 
visited ;  a  ^acious  and  handaome 
apartment  Just  within  the  room 
on  the  right,  is  a  large  Bureau  on 
which  many  names  are  inscribed, 
I  conformed  to  the  general  custom 
by  engraving  the  initial  lettera  of 
one  I  ha{^[>ened  then  to  think  oC 
In  this  apartment  a  rockof  hmneose 
magnitude  luis  fallen  from  the  aich 
cei^g  above,  and  converted  into  m 
heap  of  ruins  a  number  of  mamve 
columns  that  were  standing  near  it. 
In  Washington's  Hall,  a  column  two 
feet  in  diameter  has  fallen,  pfobahty, 
from  the  setthng  of  the  floor,  wUdi 
certainly  has  a  cavern  beneath  it 
The  Diamond  Room,  (h)  n  next, 
and  derives  its  name  from  the  spuk* 
ling  brilliancy  of  its  walls.  The 
Enchanted  Room,  (M)  has  m  wdd 
variety,  which,  by  the  help  of  a  vivid 
imagination,  may  be  transformed 
into  a  new  creation.  Here,  in  one 
place,  an  immense  mass  of  toA 
hanffs  so  loosely  over  you,  so  appa- 
rendy  without  support,  that  it  seeov 
to  threaten  you  wi:di  instant  annihi> 
lation.  Here  b  a  basin  containing 
a  hogshead  or  two  of  pure  wHer, 
which,  after  the  fatigue  experienced, 
is  grateful  and  refreshing.  Return- 
ing by  the  same  passage  through 
the  Diamond  Room,  you  come  «i 
the  Wilderness,  (N)  roug^  and  inr* 
gular  below,  on  the  sides  and  above. 
Either  here  or  hi  the  Eachanled 
Room,  I  do  not  rememba  wUd^ 
there  is  a  large  column  of  25  or  M 
feet  in  diameter,  called  the  Tower 
of  Babel.  The  Garden  of  Eik% 
(O)  is  the  last  scene.  Tlnsi 
IS  spacious,  lofW,  aBMl  its  4 
are  superb  and  varioio«^|A  Wijk 

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14S 


mpeanSmiiy  floating  over  you,  called 
j^ah'a  Mantle^  a  large  white  cur- 
tain^ and  a  rock  called  the  Salt 
Mountain,  seen  at  a  distance  thniugh 
a  colonnade,  are  the  most  remarka- 
ble particulars  that  I  noticed  here. 

I  now  returned  and  regained  the 
mouth  of  the  cave,  after  having 
been  within  h  two  hours  and  three 
quarters.  But  the  time  was  too 
short  to  enable  one  on  a  first  visit  to 
notice  the  cave  with  the  accuracy 
necessary  to  give  a  full  or  correct  de- 
scription of  it  An  English  painter 
who  was  some  weeks  here,  said  that 
years  wore  necessary  to  give  any 
thing  like  a  aurrect  representation  of 
hby  the'penciL 

The  Saloon  ^H )  cannot  be  very 
distant  from  Madison's  Cave,  and 
had  time  permitted,  I  should  have 
attempted  to  discover  a  communica* 
lion  between  them,  b}^  firing  a 
musket  in  one  cave,  while  the  re- 
port was  listened  for  in  the  other. 
The  mention  of  this  reminds  me  of 
the  remarkable  effect  which  I  am 
tdd  the  explosion  of  a  pistol  produ- 
ces in  some  parts  of  W  ier's  Cave. 
The  sound  is  astonishingly  loud, 
and  is  prolonged  and  echoed  back 
from  the  distant  recesses ;  and  after 
a  considerable  silence,  it  is  once  and 
i^rain  returned,  when  you  have  sup- 
posed it  exhausted.  I  had  not  the 
forelhought  to  supply  myself  with 
the  means  of  maiung  this  experi- 
ment. 

The  temperature  of  this  cave,  I 
am  told,  is  55,  and  never  varies. 

A  German  of  the  name  of  Ay- 
mand,  was  once  the  proprietor  of 
this  cave,  and  his  name  has  some- 
times been  given  to  it  It  is  now 
the  property  of  Mr.  Bingham,  who 
keeps  a  good  house  of  entertam- 
mentnearit;  but  the  honour  of  the 
name  is  certainly  due  to  the  disco- 
verer. Mr.  Wier  made  the  discove- 
ry by  pursuing,  with  a  dog,  game 
iniich  took  refuge  here,  and  he  pro- 
secuted it  with  as  much  ardour,  and 
at  almost  as  much  peril  as  Cook  pro- 


secuted his  discoveries  in  the  track- 
less ocean.  The  proprietor  keeps  a 
lock  upon^e  door  of  the  cave,  and 
char^^  50  cents  to  each  visitor, 
which  produces  him  a  considerable 
revenue. 

Mr.  Charles  Lewis,  who  lives  near 
Port  Republic,  accompanied  me  in 
my  subterranean  excursion,  and 
contributed  much  to  the  gratifica- 
tion of  it 

In  following  me,  I  fear  you  will 
share  more  of  the  fatigues  than  plea- 
sures I  but  if  I  excite  your  curiosity 
sufficientiy  to  induce  you  to  make 
this  place  a  visit,  at  some  time  when 
on  your  way  to  Washington,  I  shall 
have  done  you  an  essential  service, 
by  enabling  you  to  see  and  enjoy 
much  in  a  httle  space,  an  important 
consideration  in  the  economy  of  a 
life  whose  duration  is  contracted  to 
a  span. 

From  thb  Baltimou  Chronicle. 

MAP  OF  LIFE. 
Having  cast  our  eyes  oyer  the 
pages  of  a  Newspaper,  we  could 
not  but  be  struck  with  the  variety  of 
intelligence  conveyed  m  a  single 
sheet  It  first  states  the  wholesale 
prices  current,  which  brings  to  view 
the  busde  of  merchandize;  then 
follows  an  half  column  of  applica- 
tions for  letters  of  administration, 
forcibW  reminding  us,  that  many  of 
these  lately  active  individuab,  are 
now  quietly  reposing  in  the  arms  of 
death;  and  that  many  clamorous 
relatives  and  friends,  are  thinking 
more  of  their  proper^,  than  of  theii* 
ashes.  The  mteiligence  now  takes 
a  bolder  swell ;  we  are  told  in  what 
state  a  number,  a  large  congrega- 
tion of  these  transitory  mortals  are 
doing  in  their  dignified,  executive, 
and  legislative  capacity ;  men  who 
talk  about  their  rights,  as  if  they 
were  of  eternal  duration.  Then  a 
case  of  piracy  occurs,  showing  how 
these  important  characters  may 
hasten  the  approach  of ,  the  king  of 

)igitized  by  VjOOQIC 


144 


MI8CKLLAMSOI7S« 


terrors,  as  if  death  delayed  his  ad- 
vaoces  too  lopg ;  then  we  have  an 
account  ofa  penitentiary,  explaining 
the  modes  adopted  by  society  to  se- 
cure to  the  possessors  of  property  the 
means  of  enjoying  it  during  the  re- 
gular advances  of  death.  Then 
comes  a  prefect  of  internal  improve- 
ment ;  that  for  the  liule  time  diat 
ve  do  remaiD  on  thb  earth,  we  may 
be  allowed  the  use  of  internal  ca- 
nals, that  we  may  divert  rivers  from 
their  ancient  courses,  every  particle 
whereof  reminds  us  of  the  flow  of 
human  existence.  Then  comes  ad- 
vertisements for  stone  masons,  build- 
ers, and  what  not,  to  inform  us  that 
these  tenants  of  an  hour  must  build 
houses  fior  their  residence  that  will 
stand  longer  than  themselves,  erect- 
ing supero  mansions  for  others  to 
inhabit  At  hist,  in  a  little  obscure 
comer  of  the  newspaper,  we  find  an 
obituary  passed  over  as  an  ordinary 
event,  to  remihd  us  after  all,  of  how 
little  consequence  we  are. 

THE  MARRIED  STATE. 

The  confugttlstaie  is  certainly  re- 
pkte  wUhfnendiUp  of  ike  mcwt  re- 
fined nature;  when  two  congenial 
hearts  unite  in  virtuous  hve,  their 
every  UtUe  domestic  joy  is  heighten- 
ed  into  hUss  h(  a  mutual  sympathy 
qffeeling*  7%e  tenderest  emotions 
of  the  soulf  the  warmest  effusions  of 
Vie  hearty  Idndly  vibrate  to  the  re- 
^onsive  ties  of  affection  and  soUci- 
tudcy  and  continue  to  diffuse  joy  all 
around. 


THB   VSPER  AND   THE   LBECH. 

We  hothpricky  said  the  viper  one 
da^  to  the  simple  leech,  we  both 
pnck  ;  and  yet  I  do  not  know  how 
it  is,  you  are  a  great  favourite^  and 
every  body  runs  away  from  me,  or 
strives  to  Knock  me  on  the  head. 

Don^t  you  know  why^  my  Utile 
dear,  replied  the  other  ;  we  both 
urick  true  enough^  but  my  ding  gives 


life  tothesick^  and  yours  UBstie 
man  who  has  the  stromgest  heakk. 
But  so  wmchy  and  no  less,  d^ers  m 
goodnatured  critic  from  an  iSmatur^ 
ed  one. 

BAD  EFFECTS  OF  CHOLER 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Preemasom's 
Magazine* 
Sia, 

Among  my  acqoahitanoe  I  know 
several  who  are,  according  to  the 
common  d^nition,  very  g^dsmtut^ 
ed  men,  but  rather  passioiiate.^ — 
This  description  has  often  aidiioed 
me  to  reflect  on  die  eflects  of  cho- 
ler,  even  in  the  best  tempered  peo* 
plr. 

We  are  told,  by  dne  of  the  sages 
of  antiqui^,  that  though  passioB  ii 
but  a  diort  raffe,  its  fa^  efiects  ave 
of  long  duratioii.    It  is 


bat  a  violent  heat  of  teaqper 
is  one  of  the  prmcipal  obstacles  to 
the  tranquility  of  fife  and  bodily 
health.  Reason  and  judgweot  ^ 
before  it:  nothing  can  di^  its  im- 
petuosity. Chokr,  with  die  assi< 
aoceofavery  few  words,  has  often 
made  men  unhappy  for  the  reroain* 
der  of  their  dsm^  and  ia  a  few 
minutes  deprived  them  q£  the  most 
valuable  friends,  dearly  pvrclttsed 
by  theassiduiQr  of  many  years,  it. 
frequently  reveals  the  moat  predoos 
secrets  of  the  heart,  and  reoders  the 
bilious  man  ridiculous  by  the  extra- 
vagance of  his  menaces.  How  many 
have  passed  the  remainder  of  their 
days  in  indigence  and  obscurity, 
for  having  been  under  the  doHumoB 
of  rage  for  a  few  nMmients  ! 

ClK)ler  deprives  a  man  of  the  uss 
(^  his  knowledge,  sense,  and  ,^td^ 
ment ;  it  oasts  such  a  doud  befeie 
him,  that  he  does  not  perceive  the 
perils  and  dangers  to  which  it  hsn 
exposed  him.  It  makes  him  deaf 
to  the  voice  of  reason,  and  utier  eac- 
pressions  whkh  may  embitter  afl  lii» 
future  da^s. 

A  passionate  man  is  constaady 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC     " 


lUSCELlAKEOUfl. 


145 


yi?ing  advantage  to  those  who  are 
inclined  to  injure  him  ;  and  his  ibes 
will  not  fail  to  make  use  of  such 
advantages  when  they  present 
themselves.  The  serene,  unruffled 
man  coolly  avails  himself  of  the  heat 
of  one  who  is  choleric :  instances  of 
which  we  behold  daily  ui  our  com- 
merce with  the  world.  Choler  is 
thus  detoed  by  a  celebrated  writer : 
^^  It  is  a  factious  turn  of  mind,  which 
destroys  the  health,  divests  us  of 
friends  and  fortune,  gratifies  the  ma 
Kgnancy  of  otlr  enemies,  and  redu- 
ces us  to  a  level  with  the  brute  crea- 
tion." it  must  be  acknowledged, 
however,  that  a  brave  man  does  not 
fear  the  fury  of  a  passionate  antago- 
nist; and  a  coward  is  terrified  with- 
out it 

I  hope  my  goodnatured  acquaint- 
ance, who  are  rather  intemperately 
warm,  will  have  indulgence  enough 
to  forgive  my  drawing  their  picture 
so  much  at  length,  as  I  certainly  do 
not  mean  them  any  harm.  I  should 
be  highly  gratified,  if  upon  discover- 
ing their  own  features  in  this  mirror, 
they  would  for  the  future  resolve  to 
curb  a  propensity,  which,  tf  suB^ed 
to  have  its  way,  would  equally  tend 
to  destroy  their  prosperity,  and 
their  peace. 
Yours,  &c. 

Deliberation. 


LIFE  OF  ARISTOTLE. 

AusTOTLB  was  one  of  the  mo9t 
iUustrious  philosophers  amonffst  the 
ancients,  and  more  remariuujle  in 
particular,  for  his  most  accurate  and 
curious  researches  into  the  hidden 
beauties  of  nature,  than  any  of  his 
learned,  and  most  inquisitive  prede- 
cessors :  nay,  his  name  is  still  reve- 
led in  dl  tbe  schools.  He  was  the 
son  of  Nicomachus,.  a  cdebrated 
physician  of  that  time,  a  great  fa- 
vourite of  Amintas,  then  king  of 
Macedonia,  and  an  illustrious  de- 
scendentof  Machaon,  the  grandson 
of  the  celebrated  Esoult^ius.    He 

VOL.  II,  X9 


was  bom  at  Stagira,  a  populous  city 
of  Macedonia,  in  the  mn  year  of  the 
99th  Olympiad,  His  father  and 
mother  unfortunately  died  whilst  he 
was  but  an  infant ;  and  his  guar- 
dians, to  whose  care  and  conduct  his 
future^  education  was  intrusted,  were 
too  unmindful  of  the  important 
charge  which  they  had  undertaken. 
He  spent  too  many  years  of  hii 
youth  in  intemperance,  riot,  and  ex- 
cess; insomuch,  that  before  he  ar- 
rived at  the  age  of  manhood,  he  had 
squandered  away  the  greatest  part 
of  that  substance  which  devolved  to 
him  by  the  decease  of  his  parents. 
Being  thus  plunged,  through  his  ex- 
travagance, into  misfortunes,  he  ap- 
plied himself  directly  to  the  army, 
in  hopes  of  a  genteel,  and  comfort- 
able subsistence ;  but  soon  growing 
weary  of  a  military  life,  as  not  being 
in  all  respects  conformable  to  his 
nature  inclinations,  he  repaired  to 
Delphi,  m  order  to  consult  the  Ora- 
cle there,  and  know  for  certain, 
what  station  of  life  would  for  the  fb- 
ture  prove  most  to  his  advantage. 
Whereupon,  the  Oracle  directed 
him  to  go  to  Athens  without  delay, 
and  there  ap|^y  his  mind  to  the  stu- 
dy of  philosophy  with  the  utmost  at- 
tention. At  that  critical  conjunc- 
ture, he  was  but  18  years  of  age. 
He  studied  fpr  20  years  successively 
in  the  academy  there,  under  the  in- 
structions of  the  great  Plato  :  And 
forasmuch,  as  by  hb  former  ill  con- 
duct, he  had  squandered  away  fas 
before  hinted)  all  his  patrimony,  he 
was  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  act- 
ing the  part  of  a  physician,  and  vend- 
ing his  medicinal  packets  all  about 
the  town,  for  his  daily  subsistence. 

Aristotle  ate  but  Kttle,  and  slept 
less :  he  had  suc)r  an  insatiable 
thirst  after  knowledge,  that  in  order 
to  withstand  the  natural  temptations 
of  sleep,  he  always  placed  a  brass 
basin  by  his  bedside ;  and  whenever 
he  laid  himself  down  to  rest,  he  ex- 
tended one  of  his  hands  quite  out  of 
the  bed^  inwbicK  he  constantly  held 

DigitizGi  •^ 


146 


MISCILLANEOLSi. 


a  leaden  bullet,  which,  when  sleep 
had  overcome  him,  would  drop  down 
of  course  into  the  basin,  and  by  the 
sound  thereof  instantaneously  awake 
him.  Laertius  assures  us,  that  not- 
withstanding he  had  an  effeminate 
voipe,  small  eyes,  and  spindle  shanks, 
yet  he  had  a  taste  for  dress ;  and, 
affected,  whenever  he  went  abroad, 
to  make  a  grand  appearance. 

Aristotle  was  a  man  of  deep  pene- 
tration, and  comprehended  at  once, 
without  the  least  hesitation,  the  most 
diHicult  and  abstruse  questions  that 
could  possibly  be  proposed  to  him. 
He  soon  became  an  adept,  under  the 
instructions  of  so  able  and  experien- 
ced a  master  as  Plato,  and  distin- 
guished himself  by  his  surprising 
progress  in  learning,  from  all  the 
rest  of  his  brother  pupils.  There 
was  no  question,  of  wliat  nature  or 
kind  soever,  proposed  in  tlie  acade-. 
my,  but  Aristotle  was  always  con- 
sulted, before  the  debate  was  ended ; 
notwithstanding  his  sentiments  were 
sometimes  widely  distant  from  those 
of  Plato  himself.  All  the  pupils  in 
general  looked  on  him  as  an  extra- 
ordinary genius ;  and  some  of  them 
were  so  prejudiced  in  his  favour, 
^at  they  would  prefer  his  private 
opinion  before  dbat  of  their  master. 
Aristotle  at  last  withdrew  from  the 
academy  ;  at  which  Plato  was  high- 
ly disgusted.  He  could  not  refrain 
from  treating  him  as  a  truant,  and  a 
fugitive;  and  would  frequently  com- 
plain that  his  pupil  was  very  anduti- 
iul,  and  ilew  in  his  face,  like  an  inso- 
lent chicken,  that  pecks  at  her 
mother  hen. 

The  Athenians  pitched  upon  Aris- 
totle to  act  as  their  ambassador  to 
king  Philip,  the  father  of  Alexander 
the  Great.  Aristotle  accordingly 
resided  for  a  considerable  time  in 
Macedonia,  in  order  to  discharge 
the  important  trust  reposed  in  him. 
When  he  had  concluded  all  his  af- 
fairs to  his  satbfaction,  he  returned 
to  Athens ;  where  he  perceived  that 
^^ocrates  had  beto  substituted  as  D 


academist  in  his  absence :  wh^^e* 
upon,  he  said,  that  it  would  r^ect 
on  his  character  should  he  vtand 
mute,  whilst  Zenocrates  was  talking. 
He  instituted  a  new  sect  of  philoso- 
phers, and  maintained  several  te- 
nets widely  distant  from  those  whidi 
he  had  learned  of  his  master,  Plata 

The  universal  charaeler  which 
Aristotle  had  obtained,  of  shining  in 
a  distinguished  manner,  in  every 
branch  of  useful  knowledge,  but 
more  particularly  in  politics,  and 
experimental  philosophy,  induced 
Philip,  king  of  Macedonia,  to  lovise 
Aristotle  to  take  upon  him  the  im- 
portant trust  of  the  educaticm  of  the 
young  prince,  his  son.  Aristotle 
was  at  that  time  in  his  bloom,  be- 
tween 30  and  40  years  of  age« — 
Aristotle  accepted  of  that  hw^ura- 
ble,  and  royal  offer,  and  acted  ac- 
cordingly, in  that  high  post  for 
eight  years  successively^  and  com- 
municated (as  Plutarch  assures  us) 
to  his  young  pupil,  some  particular 
points  of  learning,  which  he  indus- 
triously concealed  from  aH  the  world 
besides.  As  the  study  of  j^iloso- 
phy,  and  the  other  abstruse  scien- 
ces, had  no  bad  influence  on  his  de- 
portment, and  had  not  rendered  hira 
in  the  least  imperious  or  morose^ 
he  applied  hb  mind  very  closely  to 
the  due  administration  of  all  public 
affairs  ;  and  nothing  of  moment  was 
transacted  at  the  Macedoniaif  court, 
but  what  he  Ifltd  a  principal  hand  in 
its  execution.  Kmg  Phflip,  out  of 
a  peculiar  regard  and  affectkm  for 
Aristotle,  rebuilt  the  city  of  Stagin, 
(which  was  the  very  spot  whmoa 
that  great  philosopher  was  bom,  and 
which  had  been  lakl  in  ruins  by  the 
then  late  wars)  and  for  his  sake,  ge- 
nerously released  all  those  who  M 
been  taken  captives,  as  well  as  those 
who  had  fled  for  the  preservation  of 
their  lives,  and  their  liberties,  to 
parts  remote. 

Aristotle,  afler  he  had  faithfaQy 
dischaiged  his  duty  to  his  ityjnl  pu* 
pi],  and  taken  his  kave  in  the 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MISCILLAMXOnS* 


affectionate  manner^  of  that  young, 
and  hopefiil  prince,  returned  to 
Ath^is,  where  he  was  received  with 
all  the  testimoniab  of  the  hi^est 
lespect;  because  king  Philip,  out 
of  gratitude^  and  love  for  his  son's 
tutor,  had  conferred  on  the  Athe- 
nians several  very  interesting,  and 
important  favours.  He  pitched 
upon  a  particular  spot  of  ground  in 
the  Lyceum,  to  which  there  was  a 
long  avenue,,  or  gravel  walk,  with  a 
regular  row  of  v<^ant  trees  on  each 
side,  for  the  place  of  his  residence, 
and  the  establishment  of  his  public 
school.  And  forasmuch  as  it  was 
his  constant  custom  to  improve  his 
young  pupils,  by  way  of  familiar 
conversation,  as  they  were  walking 
backwards  and  forwards,  the  whole 
sect  of  Aristotelians  were  afterwards 
distinguished  by  the  name  or  title  of 
the  Peripatetic  philosophers.  The 
Lyceum  soon  became  a  place  of 
public  notice,  on  account  of  the  vast 
concourse  of  people,  both  of  learn- 
ing, and  of  fashion,  who  resorted 
thither  from  all  parts,  for  the  plea- 
sure, as  well  as  advantage  ansing 
from  his  public  lectures;  for  ]m 
fame  was  industriously  spread  all 
over  Greece. 

Some  time  aflerhis  establishment 
in  this  academy,  his  pupil  Alexan- 
der, desired  him  to  read  public  lec- 
tures on  experimental  philosophy ; 
and  fqir  that  purpose,  gave  orders 
that  a  great  number  of  spdrtsmen, 
9S  well  as  fishermen,  should  wait  on 
him  from  all  parts,  and  furnish  him 
with  a  profusion  of  the  most  curious 
materials  for  the  objects  of  his  ob- 
servation; and  sent  him,  at  the 
same  time,  eight  hundred  talents,  in 
order  to  defray  that  extraordinary 
expense. 

Mbch  about  that  time,  Aristotle 
published  several  metaphysical,  as 
well  as  phvsical  tracts.  Alexander, 
who  was  then  in  Asia,  hearing  that 
hb  books  were  exposed  to  public 
sale,  being  a  jealous  prince,  and 
ci'ery  ambitious  of  being  the  great- 


i4r 


est  man  in  the  worid,  in  aO  retpects, 
was  not  only  highly  concerned,  but 
even  disgusted  to  nnd,  that  the  pro- 
found knowledge  of  Aristotle  was 
laid  open,  and  made  plain  and  ob« 
vious  to  common  understanding ; 
and  conmiunicated  his  resentments 
on  that  account,  in  a  concise  epistle, 
which  was  couched  in  pretty  warm 
terms,  to  the  following  effect : 

Alkxan]>ee  to  Austotls, 

"You  have  acted  very  indiscreet-, 
ly,  in  publishing  jTour  several  trea- 
tises on  all  the  speculative  sciences; 
since,  when  the  doctrines  and  pre* 
cepts  which  you  have  communicated 
to  i»  in  private,  are  at  once  spread 
all  over  the  worid,  we  shall  have  no 
wisdom  to  boast  of  above  the  mean- 
est of  our  subjects.  I  would  have 
you  to  know,  that  I  had  much  ra^er 
surpass  all  others  in  the  knowledge 
of  some  hidden  literaij  secrets^  than 
to  be  the  most  powernd  uonarch  ia 
the  universe.'^ 

Aristotle,  in  order  to  pacify  his 
ambitious  pupil,  and  to  vindicate  his 
past  conduct,  retumeid  him  the  fol- 
lowing short|  but  artful  answer : 

"SlEl, 

"  ^Tis  true,  indeed,  thatlhave  ex- 
posed my  works  to  public  sale ;  but 
I  have  cast  such  a  dark  veil  over 
them,  that  not  one  eye  in  a  thousand 
will  ever  be  able  to  discover  the  lite- 
rary beauties  which  lie  concealed 
under  them.'* 

By  this  artful  answer,  he  plainly 
intimated,  that  he  had  rendered  his 
doctrines  so  intricate  and  confused, 
that  hone  but  a  few  penetrating  vir- 
tuosi would  be  capable  of  the  least 
improvement  from  his  elaborate  and 
profound  instructions. 

Aristotle,  at  last,  was  not  that  fa- 
vourite with  Alexander,  as  he  had 
been  for  many  years.  He  fell  out 
with  him  for  espousing,  with  too 
much  warmth,  the  interest  of  Calis- 
tbenes,  the  philosopher,  who  was  a 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


14a 


MtMSUlHBOm. 


distant  rdstkn  of  Afistodes,  and 
kis  niece^s  scm.  Arirtoile,  it  seems^ 
Imd  brought  him  up  from  his  in^aii' 
cy,  under  hi«  own  roof,  and  had  all 
idong  tdcen  upon  himself  the  care 
and  concern  of  his  education.— 
When  Aristotle  took  his  leave  of 
Alexander,  and  the  Macedonian 
eourt,  he  recommended  this  favour- 
ite nephew  of  his,  in  the  most  san* 
guin^  manner,  to  be  an  attendant  on 
that  young  prmce  in  his  future  ex-^ 
peditions.  Calisthenes  spoke  his 
mind  too  freely  to  his  majesty,  and 
did  not  act  the  part  of  a  parasitical 
courtier  with  a  good  grace.  It  was 
Airough  his  persuasions,  that  the 
Macedonians  absolutely  refused  to 
worsh^  Alexander  as  a  god,  as  was 
a  customary  piece  of  impfous  flatte- 
ry among  die  Persians. 

Alexander,  who  had  conceived  an 
mnate  aversion  to  him,  on  account 
of  his  blunt  deportment,  and  want  of 
complaisance,  was  determined  to  get 
rid  of  thb  troublesome  courtier  at 
all  events.  Whereupon  he  involved 
him,  as  he  was  not  sufficiently  upon 
his  guard,  into  a  conspiracy  which 
was  first  formed,  and  secretly  car- 
ried on  some  time  after,  by  oneHer- 
molaus,  a  pupil  of  Calisthenes;  and 
would  nerer  suffer  him  to  urge  one 
sinde  word  in  his  own  vindication. 
In  ^ort,  someinsist,  that  Alexander 
caused  him  to  be  thrown  into  a  lion's 
den ;  others,  that  he  was  executed 
by  way  of  contempt,  as  a  common 
malefactor,  on  a  gibbet ;  and  others 
again,  are  of  opinion,  that  he  died 
upon  the  rack. 

Aristotle,  ever  after  this  ignomi- 
nioos  treatment  of  his  nephew,  look- 
ed on  Ins  royal  pvpil  with  an  eye  of 
contempt,  and  moital  hatred*  Alex- 
ander, on  the  other  hand,  studied 
every  way  he  could  possibly  devise 
to  mortify  his  tutor,  and  make  him 
uneasy«  Accordingly, '  he  promo- 
ted his  rival  Zraocrates,  imd  sent  him 
several  very  valuable  presents^  At 
thi^  Aristotle  was  nettled  to  the  last 
degree  J  and  pnmipted  by  jealon^, 


vow«d  revenge.  Some  Msionans 
assure  ns^  that  he  eanried  his  resent* 
mem  to  so  ht|^  a  pitch,  as  to  be- 
come an  acti^  party  concerned,  m 
the  conspiracy  against  lam,  fonned 
by  Antipater,  and  to  give  him  pri- 
vate instructions,  bow  to  prefnre 
those  poisonous  innrediests  wiiich 
were  suspected  to  be  (because  «f 
Alexander's  death. 

Though  Aristotle,  'lis  true,  in 
most  respects,  was  a  man  of  stead- 
fastness and  resolution ,  yet  ^  evi- 
dent, from  very  audientic  accounts 
of  him,  that  he  had  his  foibles,  and 
infirmities  of  nature,  as  wdl  as  other 
men.  Some  ^lort  time  after  he  had 
laid  down  his  academy,  he  withdrew 
to  the  court  of  Hermias,  the  tyrait 
of  Atama.  Some  authors  woald 
insinuate  that  Aristotle  was  neorty 
related  to  that  prince ;  but  odiers 
scruple  not  to  assert,  that  he  was  cri- 
minally enamoured  with  hkn,  and 
that  he  had  some  view  of  interest 
and  advantage,  arising  frmn  the  pay-* 
raent  of  that  visit,  and  the  ^tifica- 
tion  of  that  inordinate  passion. 

Some  historians  again  assert,  that, 
not  long  after  his  arrival  at  Atania, 
he  married  the  sister  of  that  tyram  ; 
but  others  are  of  opinion,  that  his 
spouse  was  nothing  more  than  one 
of  his  cast-off  concubines. 

But  be  that  as  it  will,  he  was  so 
far  tranmorted  with  the  real,  or  ima- 
ginary charms  of  that  young  lady, 
that  he  actually  offered  up  sacrifices 
to  her,  with  all  die  pomp  and  so^ 
lemnity  imaginable,  and  paid  her 
the  same  divine  homage,  as  the 
Athenians  did  to  the  Eleusinian 
goddess  Ceres ;  and  nuMreover,  com- 
posed several  poetical  and  sublime 
panegyrics  on  his  favourite  Hermias, 
for  his  sincere  friendship,  and  con- 
descending goodness,  in  bestowing 
on  him  such  an  angelic  partner. 

Aristotle  divided  his  philosophy 
into  two  parts  only :  namely,  prac- 
tice and  theoiy.  The  former  is  thnt 
which  lays  down  ("as  logic,  or  the 
art  of  thinking  does),  those  certmin 

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MMOBIiIi  A  mOPfc 


149 


tm^^  winch  are  beat  tdtpted  te  re- 
gvilate  and  command  the  optratiom 
ef  the  mind ;  or  otiierwke^  «uch 
mher  ralet  and  maxims  far  ^e  con- 
dttct  of  human  life^  asare  prescribed 
us  by  the  best  economists,  and  the 
HKWt  experienced  politkivis.  The 
latter  is  that,  which  (iiketnetaphy- 
aica>.  or  natural  philosophy),  disco- 
vers to  us  such  particulartraths  as 
are  merely  speculative.  According 
to  the  tenets  of  diis  great  philoso- 

Cer,  there  are  three  principles  ie- 
ive  to  all  substantial  things  in  na- 
ture, vie.  privation,  matter,  and 
fimn. 

In  order  to  demonstrate  tiiatpri- 
viition  ought  to  be  deemed  a  prinei- 
1^,  he  maintains,  diat  the  matter 
whereof  any  new  thing  is  composed, 
must  have  a  privation  of  the  form  of 
such  new  intended  thing.  Tis  ab- 
sdutely  requisite  (for  instance)  says 
he,  that  the  matter  whereof  any  table 
is  to  be  composed,  should  have  a  pri- 
vattott  of  the  form  of  that  same  ta- 
ble ;  that  is  to  say,  in  other  terms, 
that  before  any  table  can  be  made, 
the  matter  whereof  it  b  to  be  com- 
posed, be  it  what  it  will,  cannot  ac- 
toaUy  be  a  table. 

He  does  not  look  upon  privation 
as  a  principle,  in  regard  to  the  com- 
position of  bodies  ;  but  as  an  exter- 
nal principle  only  of  their  produc- 
tion, in  such  a  manner,  that  the  pro- 
duction becomes  a  change,  or  varia- 
ticm,  whereby  such  matter  passes 
from  that  state  and  condition  in 
which  it  ever  was  to  another  that  it 
acquires,  as  in  the  before  mentioned 
instance,  a  block,  or  plank  of  any 
kind  of  wood  whatever,  becomes  a 
table  from  being  nothing  like  a  table 
before. 

Aristotle  gives  us  two  different 
definitions  ^  matter.  The  first, 
accordmg  to  his  notion,  is  negative ; 
timt  is,  says  he,  'tis  neither  sub- 
stance, extension,  or  quality;  nor 
existeiice,  in  short,  ofany  kind  what- 
ever ;  so  that  according  to  his  idea, 
the  matter  of  wood,  for  instance,  is 


neither  its  lentfth,  or  Its  breaddi;  its 
form,  its  cotinr,  its  solidity,  itt 
weight,  its  hardness,  its  sotoess,  its 
roughness,  its  smoothness,  its  aridi- 
ty, or  its  moisture  ;  its  smell,  nor,  in 
a  word,  any  one  other  accident  what- 
ever, that  may  possibly  attend  such 
matter  of  wood. 

His  other  definition  is  affirmative; 
but  not  in  the  least  more  satisfactory 
than  the  former.  He  insists,  that 
matter  is  the  subject  whereof  a  new 
thing  is  composed,  and  wherein  it  is 
at  last  resolved.  Now,  according  to 
his  notion,  we  shall  forever  be  at  a 
loss  to  determine  what  the  first  sub- 
ject is,  whereof  all  the  works  of  na- 
ture are  composed. 

QTo  be  continued* J 


A  SINGULAR  STORY. 

Prom  Madame  duMontier^s  Letters. 

While  I  .was  in  the  country  last 
year,  says  madame  du  Montier,  I 
chanced  to  fall  into  company  with  a 
good  friar,  eighty  years  of  agft,  who 
told  me  the  following  story  : 

About  forty  years  ago,  he  was 
sent  for  to  a  highwayman,  to  pre- 
pare him  for  deaSi.  They  shut  him 
up  in  a  small  chapel  wit'h  the  male- 
factor, and  while  he  was  making 
every  effort  to  excite  him  to  repent- 
ance, he  perceived  that  the  man  was 
absorbed  in  thought,  and  hardly  at- 
tended to  his  discourse.  My  dear 
friend,  said  he,  do  you  reflect  that 
in  a  few  hours  you  must  appear  be- 
fore a  more  awful  tribunal  than  that 
which  has  lately  condemned  you  ? 
What  can  divert  your  attention  from 
what  is  of  such  infinite  importance  ? 
True,  father,  returned  the  malefac* 
t<Nr ;  but  I  cannot  divest  myself  of 
the  idea  that  it  is  in  your  power  to 
save  my  life.  How  can  1  possibly 
effect  that  ?  said  the  fnarj  and  even 
supposing  I  could,  should  I  venture 
to  do  it,  and  thereby  give  you  an 
opportunity,  perhaps,  of  committing 
many  more  crimes  ?    If  that  be  all 

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150 


MI8CXLLANB00S. 


thut  prevents  you^  replied  tht  male- 
factory  you  may  rel^^on  my  word  5 
I  have  beheld  my  fate  too  near, 
again  to  e^spose  myself  to  what  I 
have  felt 

The  friar  acted  as  you  and  I 
should  have  done:  he  yielded  to  the 
impulse  of  compassion  ^  and  it  only 
remained  to  contrive  the  means  of 
the  man's  escq>e.  The  chapel  in 
which  they  were  was  lighted  by  one 
small  window  near  the  top,  15  feet 
ih>m  the  ground.  ^  You  have  only, 
said  the  crmiinal  to  the  friar,  to  set 
your  chair  on  the  altar,  which  we 
can  remove  to  the  foot  of  the  watt, 
and,  if  you  will  get  upon  it,  I  can 
reach  the  window  by  the  help  of 
your  shoulders.  The  friar  consent- 
'ed  to  this  manoeuvre,  and  having 
replaced  the  ahar,  which  was  porta> 
ble^^  seated  himself  quietly  in  hb 
chair.  About  three  hours  after,  the 
executioner,  who  began  to  grow  im- 
patient, knocked  at  the  door,  and 
asked  the  friar  what  was  become  of 
the  criminal.  He  must  have  been 
an  angel,  rephed  he  codly ;  for,  by 
the  faith  of  the  priest,  he  went 
through  the  window.  The  execu- 
tioner, who  found  himself  a  loser  by 
this  account,  inquired  if  he  were 
laughing  at  him,  and  ran  to  inform 
die  judges.  They  repaired  to  the 
chapel  where  this  good  man  was  sit- 
ting, who,  pointing  to  the  window, 
assured  them  upon  his  conscience, 
that  the  malefactor  flew  out  at  it; 
and  that  supposing  him  an  angel,  he 
was  going  to  recommend  himself  to 
his  protection ;  that,  moreover,  if 
he  were  a  criminal,  which  he  could 
not  suspect  after  what  he  had  seen, 
he  was  not  obliged  to  be  his  guar- 
dian. The  magistrates  could  not 
'- preserve  their  graviQr  at  this  good 
man's  tangfrtnd,  and,  after  wiuiing 
a  j^easant  journey  to  the  culprit, 
went  away. 

Twenty  years  afterwards,  this 
friar,  travelling  over  the  Ardennes, 
lost  his  way;  when,  just  as  the  day 
Avas  dosing)  a  kind  of  peasant  a^- 


coited'him,  and^  after  exMnirting 
hun  veiy  attentively,  asked  him 
whither  he  was  going,  and  toM  him 
the  road  he  was  travelling  was  a 
very  dangerous  one.     If  you  will 
follow  me,  he  added,  I  will  conduct 
you  to  a  fkrm  at  no  great  distance, 
where  you  may  pass  the  night  in 
safety.    The  firiar  was  much  embar- 
rassed ;  the  curiosity  visible  in  the 
man*^  countenance-  excited  his  sus- 
picions; but  considering  that  if  he 
had  a  bad  design  towards  him  it  was 
impossible  to  escape,  he  fc^lowed 
him  with  trembling  steps.    His  fear 
was  not  of  long  duration :  he  soon 
perceived  the  farm  which  the  pea- 
sant had  mentioned ;  and  as  they 
entered,  the  man,  who  was  the  pro- 
prietor of  it,  told  his  wife  to  kill  a  ca- 
pon, with  some  of  the  finest  chidLens 
m  the  pouhiy  yard,  and  to  welcome 
his  guest  with  Uie  best  chear.  Wliile 
supper  was  preparing  die  countiy- 
man  re-entered,  followed  by  eight 
children,  whom  he  thus  addressed : 
My  children,  pour  forth  your  grate- 
ful thanks  to  this  good  friar.    Had 
it^  not  been  for  him  you  would  not 
have  been  here,  nor  I  either :  he 
saved  my  life.    The  friar  mstantiy 
recollected  the  featuresof  the  speak- 
er, and  recoeniied  the  thief  idiose 
escape  he  had  favoured.   Thewh<^ 
famUy  baded  him  with  caresses  and 
kindness ;  and,  when  he  was  alone 
with  the  man,  he  inquired  how  be 
came  to  be  so  well  provided  for.    I 
kept  my  word  with  you,  said  the 
thief,  and,  resolving  to  lead  a  good 
life  infut^ire,    I  l:^ged  my  way 
hither,  whic)^  b  my  native  countiy, 
and  engaged  in  the  service  of  tibe 
master  of  tb<s  farm.    Gaining  his 
favour  Jiy  my  fidelity  and  attach- 
ment to  his  interest,  he  gave  me  his 
only  daughter  in  marriage.     God 
has  bless^  my  endeavours.    I  have 
amassed  a  little,  wealth  ;  and  1  b^ 
that  you  will  dispose  of  me  and  aS 
that  belongs  to  me.    I  shall  now  die 
content,  since  I  have  been  able  10 
seeand  testify  my  gratitude  towards 

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MASONIC. 


151 


my  deliverer.  The  friar  told  bim 
be  was  well  repaid  for  the  service 
he  had  rendered  him^  W  the  use  to 
n^hich  he  devoted  the  ufe  he  bad 
preserved.  He  would  not  accept  of 
any  thing  as  a  recompense ;  but 
could  not  refuse  to  stay  some  days 
with  the  countryman,  who  treated 
him  like  a  prince.  This  good  man 
^en  obliged  him  to  make  use  at 
least  of  one  of  his  horses  to  finish  his 
journey,  and  never  quitted  him  tUl 
be  bad  traversed  the  dangerous 
roads  that  abound  in  those  parts. 

MASONIC* 


THE   INEFFABLE  DEGREES 
CONTINUED. 

By  Companion  Giles  F.  Tates. 

'^  In  advancing  to  the  Inefable 
Degree9f  the  pious  heart  is  filled 
with  joy  in  view  of  those  mfinite  dis^ 
plays  of  the  divine  character  and 
perfections^  which  will  continue  to 
vpfold  through  a  boundless  eter^ 
mVy.''    Rev.  Salem  Town. 

in.  Intimate  Sec»etary. 

This  lodge  should  be  furnished 
with  Uack  hangings,  and  enlighten- 
ed with  27  lights,  in  S  candle  sticks, 
of  9  branches  each,  placed  E.  W. 
and  S.  The  lodge  room  represents 
ihe  hall  of  audience  of  king  Solo- 
mon. 

This  lodge  consists  of  only  two 
persons,  who  represent  S.*.  &  H.  K. 
of  T.'.  They  are  covered  with  blue 
mantles,  lined  with  ermine,  with 
crowns  on  their  heads,  and  sceptres 
in  their  hands ;  and  seated  at  a  table 
on  which  are  placed  two  naked 
sw<Nrds,  a  roll  of  parchment,  and  a 
death's  head. 

All  the  other  brethren  are  consi- 
dered only  as  perfect  masters,  and 
act  as  guards.  They  should  wear 
irbite  aprons,  lined  and  embroidered 
with  a  blood  colour,  wfth  strings  of 
the  tame  }  and  ribbons  of  the  same 


colour  round  tteit  necks,  to  which 
must  be  suspended,  hanging  on  the 
breast,  a  solid  triangle* 

Opened  by  3  times  9- 

The  candidate,  aAer  having  been 
duly  uitroduced,  is  thus  addiessed  : 
"  My  Brother, 

I  have  jNTCvailed  upon  my  worthy 
ally  to  receive  you  into  favour ;  and 
have  obtained  his  consent  to  make 
you  an  Intimate  Secretary  to  the 
alliance  we  have  contracted,  on  your 
promise  to  keep  inviolate  all  that 
shall  be  committed  to  you  in  this 
degree.*' 

He  is  aflerwards  further  address-  « 
ed: 
"  My  Brother, 

I  receive  you  an  Intimate  Secre- 
tary, on  your  having  promised  to  be 
faithful  to  the  order  in  which  you 
have  just  now  entered.  We  hope 
that  your  fidelity  will  be  proof  to 
every  trial,  and  that  you  may  be 
enaliled  successfully  to  repel  the  at- 
tacks of  those  who  may  try  to  ex- 
tort from  you  those  secrets  which 
yom  are  now  about  to  receive." 

History. 

^^  Hiram  gave  Solomon  cedar 
trees,  and  fir  treed,  acccmling  to  all 
his  desire.  And  Solomon  gave 
Hiram  twenty  thousand  measures  of 
wheat  for  food  for  hb  household, 
and  twenQr  measures  of  pure  oil. 
And  there  was  peace  between  Hiram 
imd  Solomon ;  and  they  two  made 
a  league  together.  Ana  it  came  to 
pass  at  the  end  of  twenty  years, 
wherein  Solomon  had  built  the 
house  of  tlie  Lord,  and  his  own 
house,  that  then  Solomon  gave  Hi- 
ram twenty  cities  in  the  land  of  Ga- 
lilee. And  Hiram  came  out  from 
Tyre  to  see  the  cities  which  Solo* 
mon  had  given ;  and  they  pleased 
him  not  And  he  said,  what  cities 
are  these  which  thou  hast  given  me, 
my  brother  ?  And  he  called  them 
the  land  of  Cabal  unto  this  day." 

1  Kings  V,  11,   12.    tX,  10—14. 

2  Chron.  Vm,  1.        .  ^         , 

■  digitized  by' VjUOyiC 


152 


MASONIC. 


According  to  masonic  tradition,  Hi- 
ram went  in  person  to  Solomon  to 
express  bis  disapprobation  of  the  ci- 
ties which  Solomon  had  given  him. 
Being  arrived,  he  made  his  entrj 
through  the  guards  into  the  court,  and 
went  hastily  to  the  kingV  apartment. 
The  countenance  of  the  king  of  Tyre 
was  so  expressive  of  anger,  as  he  en- 
tered, that  J.*,  one  of  Solomon's  fa- 
vourites,  perceiving  it,  and  apprehen- 
sive of  the  consequence,  followed  him 
to  the  doof  to  listen.  H.*.  observing 
him,  ran  and  seized  upon  him,  and 
delivered  him  into  the  custody  of  the 
guards  ;  however,  by  the  intercession 
of  Solomon  (who  represented  that  J- . 
was,  of  all  those  about  the  temple, 
most  attached  to  him,  and  that  his  in- 
tentions could  not  have  been  evil,} 
Hiram  agreed  to  pardon  him.  Be- 
fore the  two  kings  parted,  they  renew- 
ed their  former  friendship,  and  con- 
cluded a  treaty  of  perpetual  alliance, 
which  was  signed  by  them,  and  to 
which  J.-,  was  Intimate  Secretary. 
Emblems,  &c* 

A  window  in  the  clouds,  with  the 
letter  J.  therein. 

A  large  door. 

A  triangle,  with  the  letters  P.  A.  P. 
therein. 

Closed  as  opened. 

IV.  Peovost  akd^udgb. 

This  lodge  should  be  adorned  with 
red,  and  lighted  by  5  great  lights,  one 
in  each  corner,  and  one  in  the  centre. 

The  master  is  placed  in  the  E.  un- 
der a  blue  canopy,  surrounded  with 
^  stars,  and  is  styled  thrice  Illustrious. 
He.  represents  Tito,  inspector  of  the 
300  architects ;  whose  office  was  to 
draw  plans  for  the  workmen. 

Opened  by  4  and  1 . 

Shortly  at^er  the  introduction  of 
the  candidate,  he  is  thus  addressed 
by  the  master : 
"  Respectable  Brother, 

It  gives  me  joy  that  lam  now  about 
to  recompense  your  zeal  and  attach- 


ment to  the  institution  of  masonry,  by 
appdnting  you  Provost  and  Judge, 
over  all  the  works  of  this  lodge. 
And  as  we  are  well  assured  of  yoair 
prudence  and  discretion,  we,  withoat 
the  least  hesitation,  intrust  yon  with 
the  key  of  the  place  where  is  deposi- 
ted what  has  been  already  communi- 
cated to  you  ♦•♦♦••/' 

He  b  then  decorated  with  a  golden 
key,  suspended  by  a  red  ribbon,  aiid 
an  apron,  with  a  pocket  in  its  centre. 

The  intention  of  S.  in  instituting 
this  degree,  was  to  strengthen  the 
means  of  preserving  ord^  amoog 
such  a  vast  number  of  workmen.  The 
duty  of  the  Provosts  and  /udges  was 
to  decide  ail  differences  that  might 
arise  among— the  brethren.  The 
badge  of  their  office  (a  balance  in 
equilibrio)  was  intended  to  remind 
them  of  that  equity  of  judgment 
which  should  characterize  tiieif  tie- 
cisions. 

Emblbms,  &c. 

A  golden  key. 
»     A  triangle,  enclosing  the  letters  G. 

A* 

A  balance  in  equilibrio.   * 
A  spi^g  of  cassia  over  the  letteis 
I  H.  ?. 
Closed  CIS  opened. 

V.  Intindant  of  the  Buildiiigs. 

This  lodge  should  be  decorated 
with  red  hangings,  and  iUumioaied 
with  27  lights,  distributed  by  3  times 
9.  There  should  be  also  5  other 
great  lights  on  the  altar  before  tbt 
master. 

The  master  who  represents  Solo- 
mon, is  styM  the  Most  Puissant,  and 
is  seated  in  the  £•  with  a  sceptre  il 
his  hand. 

The  first  warden  b  catted  Inspect 
or,  and  is  seated  in  the  W.  He  re- 
presents the  most  *illaitrious  Tko. 
The  second  warden  is  seated  in  the 
S.  He  represents  Adoniram.  AH 
the  other  brethren  are  amnged  u^ 
gularly.        • 

The  master,  and  all  the  bredtfest 

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MAS«NI€. 


15S 


are  de<^orated  with  a  large  red  ribbon, 
firpm  the  riffht  shoulder  to  the  lefl 
Mp^  to  which  is  suspended  a  triangle 
fastened  by  a  small  green  ribbon. — 
On  one  side  of  the  triangle  may  be 
engraved  the  letters  B.  A.  J.  $  on 
the  reverse  J.  K.  £.  The  aprons 
are  white,  lined  with  red,  and  bord- 
ered with  green ;  in  the  centre,  -a 
star,  with  9  points,  above  a  balance; 
on  the  flap,  a  triangle  with  the  let- 
ters B.  A.  J^  on  each  angle* 

Opened  by  5. 

The  candidate,  after  being  pre- 
viously   examined,    and    passing 
through  the  ceremonies,  is  thus  ad- 
dressed by  the  M.  P. 
«  My  Brother, 

King  Solomon,  willing  to  carry  to 
the  highest  despree  of  perfection  the 
work  he  had  oegun  in  Jerusalem, 
found  it  necessary,  from  a  circum- 
stance with  which  you  are  acquaint- 
ed, to  employ  five  chiefs  of  the  five 
orders  of  architecture,  and  gave  com- 
mand over  them  to  T.*. ;  Adoniram, 
and  Abda,  his  father,  being  well  as- 
sured that  their  seal  and  abilities 
would  be  exerted  to  the  utmost,  in 
bringing  to  perfection  so  glorious  a 
Work.  In  like  manner,  we  flatter 
ourselves,  that  you  will  contribute 
all  in  your  power,  to  promote  the 
grand  design  of  masonry." 

Emblems,  &c. 

A  ffreat  light,  inclosing  the  letters 
J.  J.  J.  in  Hebrew  characters. 

A  blazing  star,  with  the  letter  J. 
therein. 

A  circle,  with  the  letters  J.  A.  I. 
N.  placed  therein. 

Closed  by  j&,  7,  and  15. 


Ereata.       *• 

Through  the  inadvertancy  of  the 
writer,  in  omitting  one  X,  in  refer- 
ring to  the  passage  of  scripture  to  be 
recited  at  the  ceremony  of  initiation 
to  the  royal  master's  degree,  the  fol- 
lowing mistake  occurred  in  our  last 
number,  page  86,  which  our  bre- 

VOL.  II.  20 


tfaren  are  respectfully  requested  to 
excuse,  and  note  with  a  pen  in  thci 
margin  of  their  several  copies. 

I^tead  of  the  first  fifteen  verses 
of  the  Xnth,  the  first  fourteen  of 
the  XXIInd,  or  last  chapter  of  Re- 
velations, should  have  been  inserted; 
as  follows : 

<<  And  he  shewed  me  a  pure  river  of 
water  of  life,  clear  as  crystal,  pro- 
ceeding out  of  the  throne  of  God,  and 
of  the  Lamb.  *  In  the  midst  of  the 
street  of  it,  and  on  either  side  of  the 
river,  wcu  there  the  tree  of  life, 
which  bare  twelye  manner  of  fruits, 
and  yielded  her  fruit  every  month  : 
and  the  leaves*  of  the  tree  were  for 
the  healing  of  the  nations.  And 
there  shall  be  no  more  curse ;  but 
the  throne  of  God  and  of  the  Lamb 
shall  be  in  it;  and  hb  servants  shall 
serve  him :  And  th^  shall  see  his 
face ;  and  his  name  shaU  be  in  then: 
foreheads.  And  there  shall  be  no 
night  there  :  and  they  need  no  cttn- 
dle,  neither  light  of  the  sun  ;  for  the 
Lord  God  giveth  them  light;  and 
they  shall  reign  for  ever  and  ever. 
And  he  said  unto  roe,  These  sayings 
are  faithful  and  true  :  and  the  Lord 
God  of  the  holy  prophets  sent  his 
angel,  to  shew  unto  his  servants  the 
things  which  must  shortly  be  done. 
Behold,  I  come  quickly :  blessed  » 
he  that  keepeth  the  sayinn  of  the 
prophecy  of  thb  book.  And  I  John, 
saw  these  things,  and  lieard  them. 
And  when  I  had  heard  and  seen,  I 
fell  down  to  worship  before  the  feet 
of  the  angel,  which  shewed  me  these 
things.  Then  saith  he  unto  me, 
See  thou  do  it  not :  for  I  am  thy 
fellow  servant,  and  of  thy  iMrethren 
the  prophets,  and.  of  them  whicb 
keep  the  saymgs  of  this  bopk : 
worehip  God.  And  he  saith  unto 
me,  Seal  not  the  sayings  of  the  pro- 
phecy of  this  book  ;  for  the  time  is 
at  luuid.  He  that  is  uiyust,  let  him 
be  unjust  still;  and  he  which  is 
filthy,  let  him  be  filthy  still ;  and  he 
that  is  righteous,,  let  him  be  right- 
eous still ;  and  he  that  is  holy,  let 

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|fA$ONI€. 


himbehoIystilL  And,  behold,  I 
come  quickly ;  and  my  reward  is 
with  me,  to  give  evefy  man  accord- 
ing as  his  work  shall  be.  I  am  Al- 
pha and  Omega,  the  beginning  and  i 
the  end,  the  first  and  the  last  Bless- 
ed are  they  that  do  his  command- 
ments, that  they  may  have  right  to 
the  tree  of  life,  and  may  enter  in 
through  the  gates  into  the  city." 

Under  the  article  "Secret  Mas- 
ter,'* page  87,  instead  of  "  painted 
a  triangle  with  the  letters  J.  A.  J.*' 
read  "  oainted  a  triangle  with  the 
letters  S.  A.  J.'*  In  the  enumera- 
tion of  emblems,  &c.,  instead  of 
"  9  words  in  Arabic  characters," 
read  "  9  words  in  Syriac  characters." 

Under  the  article  "Perfect  Mas- 
ter," page  89,  in  the  descriptions  of 
emblems,  &c,  instead  of  "  on  the 
square  stone  is  engraved  the  letter 
J."  insert  "on  the  square  stone  is 
engraved  the  letter  E." 

For  thk  Masonic  Registbiu 
COL.  JOHN  M<KINSTRY. 
Brotukr  Pratt, 

The  following  relation  of  a  re- 
markable incident  in  the  life  of  this 
brother,  who  died  at  Livingston,  on 
the  9th  of  June  last,  appeared  in  a 
Hudson  paper  shortly  af\er  his 
death.  I  think  it  worthy  of  preser- 
vation in  the  Masonic  Register. 

Z. 

"  At  thebi^tle  of  the  Cedars  (SO 
miles  from  Montreal,  on  the  St. 
Lawrence),  col.  M'Kinstry,  then 
captain  in  col.  Patterson's  regiment 
of  continental  troops,  was  twice 
wounded,  and  taken  prisoner  by  the 
Indians.  The  intrepedity  of  col. 
M'K.  as  a  partiatan  officer,  had  ren- 
dered him  alike  the  object  of  their 
fears,  and  of  their  unforgiving  re- 
sentment. The  firitish  officers  were 
too  much  in  dread  of  their  savage 
allies,  on  account  of  their  vast  supe- 
dority  of  numbers,  to  risk  an  inter- R 


position  of  their  authority  to  prevent 
the  horrid  sacrifice  they  saw  prepft- 
ring.  Already  had  the  victim  been 
bound  to  the  tree,  and  surrounded 
by  the  faggots  intended  for  his  im- 
molation ;  hope  had  fled;  and  in 
the  agonjr  of  despair,  he  utt^ed 
that  mystic  apjpeel  which  the  bro- 
therhood of  masons  never  disreganl ; 
when,  as  if  Heaven  had  interposed 
for  his  preservation,  the  warrior 
Brandt  understood  lum,  and  saved 
him. 

^  Brandt  had  been  educated  in 
Europe,  and  had  there  been  initiated 
into  the  mysteries  of  freemasonry. 
The  advantages  of  education,  and 
his  native  strength  of  mind,  gave 
him  an  ascendancy  over  the  imcul- 
tured  sons  of  the  forest,  that  few 
other  chiefs  possessed.  Situated  as 
he  was,  the  impending  danger  of  a 
brother  must  have  forcibly  brought 
to  mind  his  obligation  to  support  bin 
in  time  of  peril.  His  utmost  endea- 
vours were  accordingly  used,  and 
they  were  happily  successful  in  ob- 
taining for  him  an  immediate 
respite,  and  an  eventual  ransom.'' 

MASONIC  ELECTIOI«. 
At  the  regular  elections  of  the 
Royal  Arch  Chapters  in  the  city  ^ 
of  New-York,  during  the  present 
month,  the  following  condpanions 
were  elected  to  office  for  die  en- 
suing year : 

CHAPTERS. 

(At  St.  John^s  HalL) 
Ancient  Chapter,  No.  1. 
Al^xan^r  Eraser,  M.  E.  H.  F. 
Henry  Marsh,  E.  K. 
Alexander  Cascadden,  £.  S. 
W.Gyack,S. 
Samuel  Montgomery,  T. 
Daniel  West,  C.  H. 
Edward  Higgins,  P.  S. 
A  lexandcr  Di wer,  R.  A.  C.  * 

Ni\ing8on  Grenard^  StAG.  M. 

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MASONIC. 


1»^ 


Wniiam  McLaughlin,  2iid  G.  M. 
Oliver  Morse,  1st  G.  M. 
Samuel  Clark,  S. 

H.  Marsh,  A.  Diwer,  S.  Montgo- 
mery,  A.  Cuscadden,  and  E.  Hig- 
gins,  standing  committee. 
3rd  fPednesday. 

Phoenix  Chattsb,  No.  S. 

Peter  Brewer,  M.  E.  H.  P. 
Wm.F.  Piatt,  E.K. 
John  Coats,  E.  S. 
W.Jessup,C.  H. 
Joel  Curtis,  P.  S. 
John  Degez,  R.  A.  C. 
Joshua  McLaughlin.  3rd.  O.  M. 
Edward  Arents,  2nd  Q.  M. 
Wm.  M'Kinney,  1st  G.  M. 
Rodney  S.  Church,  S. 
James  Thorbum,  T. 
Garrit  Lansing,  S. 
2nd  and  4tb  Mondays. 

Jerusalem  Craptee,  No.  8. 
Thaddeus  Whitlock,  M.  E.  H.  P. 
Richard  Pennel,  E.  K. 
Joseph  Hoxie,  £.  S. 
Reuben  Greene,  C.  H. 
Lewis  Belden,  P.  S. 
Hampton  Dunham,  R.  A.  C. 
James  G.  Finn,  3rd  G.  M. 
(jeprge  Arnold,  2nd  G.  M. 
Joseph  Kilpatrick,  1st  G.  M. 
Henry  Basley,  S. 
Wm.  T.  Hunter,  T. 
PeterN.  Utt,  S. 

C.  Truss,  R.  Pennell,  J.  Hoxie, 
L.  Belden,  and  E.  Beeman,  stand- 
ing committee.    , 

2nd  and  4th  Wednesdays. 

Rising  Sun  Chafter,  No.  16. 

Joel  Jones,  M.E.  H.  P. 
Thomas  Slade,  E.  K. 
Samuel  S.  Birdsall,  E.  S. 
Gair  Blanchard,  C.  H. 
Thomas  G.  Potter^^P.  S. 
John  W.  Timson,  R.  A.  C. 
WUliam  C.  Lee,  3rd  G.  M. 
Andrew  Douglas,  2nd  G.  M. 
Edgar  Hiffffinson,  1st  G.  M. 
Lebbeus  Chapman,  S. 
John  Gassner^  T. 


Joseph  Taylor,  S. 
2nd  and  4fh  Thursdays. 

Fr^  DONiAN  Chapter,  No.  19* 
B.W.Peck,M.E.H.P. 
LB.  Camp,  E.K. 
Smith  Ovutt,  E.  S. 
Smith  Ely,  C.  H. 
D.Watrous,  P.S. 
Elliott  Higgins,  R.  A.C 
J.  E.  Betts,  3rd  G.  M. 
J.  W.Lamb, 2nd  G.M. 
Thomas  Oliverv  1st  G  M^ 
Benjamin  Atterbury,  S. 
Thaddeua  Seymour,  T. 
Levi  Nathan,  S. 

1st  and  3d  Thursday!. 

Eagle  Chapter,  No.  54. 
Thomas  Lownds,  M.  E.  H.  P. 
WiUiam  E.  Ross,  E.  K. 
Jacob  Wyckoff,E.S. 
Charles  Turner,  C.  H. 
James  A.  M'Cready,  P.  S. 
Haim  C.  Henriquez,  R.  A.  C. 
Edward  Bellamy,  3rd  G.  M. 
John  E.Rich,  2nd  G.M. 
George  B.  Smith,  1st  G.  M. 
Oliver  M.  Lownds,  S. 
John  P.  Gamiss,  T. 
Levi  Nathan,  S. 

Thomas  Lownds,  Wm.  E.  Ross, 
J.  Wyckoff^  James  A.  M^Cready, 
and  Uharle^  Turner,  standing  com^ 
mittee. 

1st  and  3rd  Mondays. 

At  the  regular  elections  of  the 
different  Lodges  in  this  city  of  New 
York,  during  the  present  month,  the 
following  Brethren  were  elected  to 
office  for  the  ensuing  year  : 

LODGES, 

(AtStJohn^sHall.) 

Trinity  Lodge,  No,  39, 
James  G.  Finn,  W.  M. 
Ephraim  Beeman,  S.  W. 
Charles  M.Day,  J.  W. 
Gilbert  Lewis,  T. 
John  C.  Simms,  S. 
EiyahWafl»r,S.D. 

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/oseph  K^PitridCy  /.  D. 

Thomas  D.  /ebottoB,  and  James 

Shandy  ilf.  C. 
Aaron,fianta,  and  Wm.  C.  Lee,  S. 
Andrew  Forrister,  T. 
Archibald  MCoalm,  Elijah  Widk- 
er,  WiUiam  O'Leary,  E.  Beeman, 
and  John  M^Carr,  standing  coiq- 
raittee. 
2nd  and  4th  Mondays. 

Abram's  Lobgs,  No.  85. 
Robert  Young,  W.  M. 
James  A .  Reynolds,  S.  W. 
William  Cheesman,  J.  W. 
Charles  St  John,  S. 
James  Webster,  T. 
Stephen  Ketchum,  S.D. 
DavidM^Gee,J.  D. 
William  Henshaw,  and  John  Gray, 

M,  C, 
Jacob  M,  Vreeland,  and  Joseph  An- 
thony, S. 

Justice  Towne,  T. 

Z.  Ring,  WUIiam  Balcewell,  N. 
Greenard,  J.  A.  Moore,  and  Amos 
Hulse,  standing  committee. 

Island  3rd  Mondays. 

Washington  Lodob,  No.  84. 
John  Niles,  W  M. 
Jhkn\e\  H.  fPeed,  S.  W. 
mUiam  D.  Morgan,  J.  W. 
Ferdinand  Vandewater,  S. 
Ashur  Martin,  T. 
J  S.  Gregory,  S.  D. 
iStephen  Sostwick,  J.  D. 
Thomas  G.Potter, and  B.  C.  Brown, 

M.  C. 
John  ^tansbury,  and  I.  B.  Ca<np»  & 
Stephen  Garthwait,  T. 

i$t  and  3d  Tuesdays. 

MoETON  Lodge,  No.  108. 
JF.  F.  Piatt,  W,  M. 
John  Dixon,  5.  JF. 
John  Hector,  J.  fF. 
?Famer  Anderson,  S. 
Edward  Arents,  T. 
Joshua  McLaughlin,  S.  D. 
Robert  Barnes,  J.  D. 
James  M^Affrey,  and  Justice  Rey- 
polds,  M.C. 


Peter  Brewer,  and  Asa  Butmuiy  S. 
Alexander  Bruce,  T. 

Joel  Curtis,  Jolm  DixoD,  John 
Sector,  Jolm  Degec,  ttid  R<A)eft 
Barnes,  standing  conmiittee. 

1st  and  3d  Thursdays. 

Mount  Mori  ah  Lodge,  No.  192. 
B.  Delapierre,  fF.  M. 
A.  Frazer,iS.  fF. 
James  Heaton,  /•  IF. 


B.  Strong,  S. 
G.  tr.  " 


Hyer,  T. 
H.  Kulp,  S.  D. 
H.  Patterson,  J.  D. 
6'imeon  Van  Beuren,  and  Jolm  it 

Lester,  M.  C. 
Andrew  Yates,  and  Joseph  CX  Wma- 

Wright,  S. 
William  W.  Fisher,  T. 

1st  and  3d  ITednesdays. 

BiNSvoLENT  Lodge,  No.  142. 
James  Hays,  W.  M. 
James  Spence,  J.  W. 
Alexander  Cuscaddeoy  J.  W« 
Joseph  Forester^  S. 
Henry  Marsh,  T. 
Archibald  Hays,  S.  D. 
Daniel  G.  Nivra,  J.  D. 
William  Bowen,  and  Oliver  Jetuh 

ston,  M.  C. 
-^—  Vandewater,  and    ■' 

Schenck,  S. 
Samuel  Clark,  T, 

2nd  and  4th  Fridays. 

Gekman  Union  Lodge,  Na  322. 
Henry  WiUet,  W.  M. 
JuUus  W.  Tieman,  S.  W. 
Christian  Meday,  J.  W. 
Frederick  L.  Vuhee,  S. 
Jacob  Bendemagel,  T. 
Charles  Riuold,  Orator^ 
John  G.  Loy,  S.  D. 
Andrew  Bergman,  J.  D. 
J.  G.  Rohr,  and  J.  G.  Gunther,  M.C. 
Joseph  Hall^  and  Peter  Rose,  S. 
flenry  Fechuman,  T. 

C.  Lektner,  C.  Meday,  C.  F. 
Jager,  J.  G.  Loy,  and  J.  G.  Rohr, 
standing  committee. 

2nd  and  4th  1  hursday^ 

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HA^ONie. 


lyr 


HiBiRNiA  LoDOV,  Nd.  899. 
Edward  Hamilton,  W.  M« 
Thomas  M'Colin,S.W. 
Dennis  Uanegan,  J.  W. 
Edward  Copeland,  T. 
John  Gilmore,  S. 
Richard  Byrne,  S.  D. 
Richard  M'Fadden,  J*  D. 
Patrick  Seery,  and  J.  Armstrong,  S. 
Owen  Divine,  andTho».  Allen,  M.C. 
Thomas  Smith,  T. 

1st  and  Srd  Fridays. 

(At  the  Ciqr-Hotel.) 

ImMePKKDSNT  ROTAL  AecH  LODOIB, 

No.  2. 
Henry  Wm.  Ducachet,  W.  M. 
Richard  Pennell,  S.  W. 
William  E.  RosSjJ.W- 
Aaron  Fountain,  T. 
Jacob  Wyckofi*,  S. 
Henry  A.  Fay,  S.  D. 
John  Peter  Geraerdt,  J.  D. 
A.Couley,T. 
2nd  and  4th  Mondays. 

Holland  Lodge,  No.  16. 

EUas  Hicks,  W.  M. 

Harry  Blood,  S.  W. 

Thomas  Longworth,  J.  W. 

George  Davis,  S. 

James  Alexander  Funk,  T. 

J.  M.  Ma)onald,  S.  D. 

Robert  U.  Lang,  J.  D. 

Charles  L.  Livingston,  ai)d  Charles 

D.  Lloyd,  M.  C. 
Alexander  Couley,  T. 

Alexander  S.  Glass,  Francis  Ba- 
retto,  j«i)  •  Charles  L.  Livingston, 
Robert  U.  Lang,and  George  R.  Hen- 
derson, standing  committee. 

Alexander  S.  Glass,  and  William 
Delafield,  committee  of  charity  Aind« 

1st  and  drd  Tuesdays. 

Adelpui  Lodge,  No.  91  • 

George  Scriba,  W.  M. 
William  Seaman,  S.  W. 
O.  M.  Lownds,  J.  W. 

Rockwell  S. 

Henry  Anderson,  T. 
L.B.Reed,$.D. 


George  Barreir,  J.  D. 
John  Solomon,  and  Obadiah  New- 
comb,  M.  C. 
John  Guion,  junr.  and  Thomas  B. 

Stokes,  S. 
T.  Sharp,  T. 

John  P.  Gamiss,  John  Field,  John 
Solomon,  Matthew  Reed,  and 
John  Guion,  junr.  standing  com- 
mittee. 

1st  and  3rd  Thursdays. 

I  (At  Tammany-Han.) 

Sr.JotiN'sLoDGB,  No.  i.    \ 

James  E.  Betts,  W.  M. 
C.  M^Elwaine,  S.  W. 
Charles  Ripley,  jnn.  J.  W. 
Smith  Ely,  S. 
Smith  Ovutt,T. 
"George  Carroll,  S.D. 
Isaac  M .  Hand,  J.  D. 
Brian  Rossiter,  T. 
2nd  and  4th  Thursdays. 

St.  Andrews  Lodge,  No.  7. 

Joseph  Hoxie,  W.  M. 
Joseph  C.  Hart,  S.  W. 
Philip  Henry,  J.  W. 
Charles  Turner,  S. 
Henry.Peckweli;  T^ 
James  H.  Hart,  S.  D. 
B.  Rosseter,  T. 

Benjamin   F.  Hart,   and   Stephen 
Lutkins,  M.  C. 
2nd  and  4th  Fridays. 

St.  John's  Lodge,  No.  9- 

James  Wilkie,  W.  M. 

John  Largy,  S.  W. 

John  Harbinson,  J.  W. 

James  Lyons,  T. 

Alexander  Divver,  S.  D. 

John  Cochran,  and  William  MackiOi 

J.  D. 
James  Millin,  T. 

John  C.  Eraser,    and   Samuel  B. 
Fleming,  M.  C. 

James  Wilkie,  S.  B.  Fleming,  A. 
Ball,  Jolm  Lorgy,  and  A*  Divver, 
standing  committee. 

Ist  and  3d  Mondays. 

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X58 


UAIONIU. 


HlRAM  LOBOEy  No.  10. 

Roifoert  PhiliM,  W.  M. 

John  R.  Le  Count,  S.  W. 

John  W.  Timion,  J.  W. 

Samuel  Montgomery,  T. 

John  Montgomery,  S. 

Robert  Lewis,  S.  D. 

Ferdinand  L.  Wilsey,  J.  D. 

David  Fenton,  M.  C. 

Charles    Thompson,    and   James 

Reed,  S. 
Samuel  Wood,  T. 

William  F.  Stevenson,  Samuel 
Montgomery,  John  R.  Le  Count, 
Jfthn  W .  Timson,  and  Ferdinand  L. 
Wesley,  standing  committee. 

1st  and  Srd  Tuesdays. 

Phobnix  Lodgc,  No.  40. 
George  Hodgson,  W.  M. 
Jonathan  D.  Stevenson,  S.  W. 
William  Scott,  J.  W. 
David  B.  Mitchell,  S. 
Benjamin  Mott,  T. 
Elias  Hadley,  S.  D. 
James  T.  Harding,  J.  D. 
Daniel  Adams,  and  Jeduthan  Col- 
ton,  M.  C. 
James  Taylor,  and  Thomas  Barker, 

S. 
Brian  Rosseter,  T. 

2d  and  4th  Wedtkesdays. 

L'Union  Francaisk,  No.  71. 
Joseph  Bouchaud,  W.  M. 
E.imenyS.1F. 
A.L.Dias,J.fr. 
H.  Castro,  O. 
H.  Laisne,  S. 
5.BaiUy,r. 
IstanddrdFrida^rs. 

CUNTON  LODOS,  No.  143. 
Alexander  Wiley,  W.  M. 
James  T.  Billany,  S.  W. 
Anthony  W.  Jones,  J.  W. 
Henry  Drake,  S. 
David  Hart,  T. 
Salem  Wines,  S.  D. 
Wm.  Hackney,  J,  D. 
James  P.  Allaire,  and  James  Barr. 

M.  C. 
Thompson  Price,  and  Cornelius  N. 


Sharp,  S. 
Joseph  Jacobs,  T. 

J.  P.  Allaire,  A.  W.  Jones,  J.  T 
S.  Wmes,  dud  T.  Price,  standing 
committee. 

2nd  and  4th  Tuesdays. 

MSCBANIC  LoDOB,  No.  153. 
Isaac  Chipp,  W.  M. 
Eber  Wheaton,  S.  W. 
Leonard  Dunkley,  J.  W. 
CUiot  Higgins,  S. 
Bartholomew  Grainger,  T. 
Richard  D.  Smith,  S.  D. 
Daniel  Darrow,  J.  D. 
Jas.  Lane,  and  John  Byrnes,  M.  C 
Thos.  Barker,  and  Richard  Elli^  S. 
Levi  Nathan,  T. 

Eber  Wheaton,  Thomas  Barker, 
P.  Teller,  Leonard  Duakly,  and 
Richard  Ellis,  standing  committee. 

2nd  and  4th  Tuesdays. 

Concord  Lodos,  No.  304. 
George  B.  Smith,  W.M. 
Lebbeus  Chapman,  S.  W-  . 
Amasa  Higgins,  J.  W. 
ZopharR.Jarvis,  T. 
Josiah  L.  James,  S. 
Gair  Blanchard,  S.  D. 
George  P.  Morris,  J.  D. 
Gregory   Snethen,    and    WilDam 

WiUis,  M.C. 
Caleb  Comstock,  and  Matthew  Vaa 

Yorx,  S. 

B.  Rosseter,  T. 

Lebbeui  Chapman,  Moitiaes 
Swaim,  Famham  Hafi,  Lucius  Q. 

C.  Bowles,    and   Amasa  Higgins, 
standing  committee. 

2nd  and  4th  Tuesdays.     ' 

(At  Brooklyn.) 

FORTITUDS  LODOX,  No.  81. 

Samuel  S.  Birdsall,  W.  M. 

John  Van  Duyne.  S.  W. 

Samuel  Doxey,  S.  W. . 

George  Little,  T. 

Noah  B.  Havens,  S. 

Charles  Poland,  S.  D. 

Peter  Divigne,  J.  D. 

Peter  Ball,  and  Wm.  Bath,  M.  C. 

John  Albert,  and  Wm.  Forboab,  $. 

,  Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MASONIC!. 


159 


JohnOkey,  T.  I 

J.  Van  Duyne,  Samuel  Dixey,l 
James  Allen^  John  Hammeli,  and 
James  Boyd,  standing  committee. 

Lotee  Van  Nostrand,  Garrit  Dur- 
yea,  James  Boyd,  John  HammeU|| 
and  Wm.  Paiming,  past  masters.       I 
Ist  and  dd  Mondays. 

HOHBNLINDEN  LoDOB,  No.  338. 

Ralph  Malbone,  W.  M. 
Abiather  Young,  S  W. 
J.  G.  T.  Hunt,  J.  W. 
Joseph  Sprague,  T 
A-astus  Worthington,  S. 
Isaac  Nichols,  T. 

2nd  and  4th  Mondays. 

We  have  published  the  result  of 
the  late  Masonic  Elections  in  this 
city,  as  they  were  handed  to  us,  and 
we  presume,  as  far  as  they  go,  they 
are  correct.  We  much  regret  how- 
ever, that  we  are  obliged,  on  account 
of  their  not  having  been  correctly 
furnished,  to  omit  the  names  of  se- 
veral of  the  standing  committees, 
both  of  chapters  and  lodges,  which 
shall  be  inserted  in  our  next,  if  hand- 
ed into  the  office,  or  left  at  St.  John's 
Hall,  for  the  editor.  In  the  mean 
time,  we  would  take  the  liberty  of 
referring  our  readers  to  Brother  John 
Hardcastle's  Masonic  Calendar,  a 
neat  and  useful  little  Pocket  C(»d- 
panion,  which  he  publishes  annually, 
for  the  convenience  of  the  fraternity. 
It  b  now  in  the  press,  and  we  un- 
dersund  will  be  published  in  a  few 
days. 

ANCIENT  MYSTERIES. 

<^  During  the  reign  of  Solomon, 
especially,  as  well  as  before  and  af- 
terwards, a  very  intimate  connec- 
tion existed  between  the  Jews  and 
Elgyptians.      Moses  was   bom  in 


Egypt,  and  educated  in  Pharoah's 
court,  until  he  was  forty  years  old, 
and  was  learned  in  all  the  wisdom  of 
the  Egyptians,  and  was  mighty  in 
words,  and  in  deeds.  Solomon 
married  Pharoah's  daughter,  and 
brought  her  into  the  city  of  David. 
This  affinity  with  the  king  of  Egypt, 
inclined  many  of  his  nobility  to  visit 
Jerusalem,  and  commercial  arrange- 
ments were  made,  and  carried  on 
amic|iUy  between  those  nations. 
From  this  reciprocal  connection,  we 
are  inclined  to  infer  that  masonry 
was  introduced  among  the  Egyp- 
tians. Be  thb,  however,  as  it  may, 
we  are  informed  by  several  authen- 
tic historians,  diat  masonry  did 
flourish  in  Egypt  soon  afler  this  pe- 
riod. By  tl)^  mysterious  art  exist- 
ing in  our  principles,  and  smiled 
upon  by  tl^  Father  of  lights,  an- 
cient Egypt  subsisted,  covered  with 
glory,  during  a  period  of  fifteen  or 
sixteen  ages.  They  extended  our 
system  of  benevolence  so  far,  that 
he,  who  refused  to  relieve  the 
wretched,  when  he  had  it  in  his 
power  to  assist  him,  was  himself 
punished  with  death:  They  re- 
garded justice  so  impartially,  that 
die  kings  obliged  the  judges  to  take 
an  oath,  that  they  wouM  never  do 
any  thing  against  their  own  con- 
sciences, though  they,  the  kings 
themselves,  should  command  them. 
They  would  not  confer  upon  a  bad 
mince  the  honours  of  a  funeral. 
They  held  a  session  upon  every  no- 
ted Egyptian  who  died,  for  the  di- 
rect purpose  of  enquiring,  how  he 
had  spent  his  life,  so  that  all  the  re- 
spect due  to  his  memory  might  be 
paid.  They  entertained  such  just 
ideas  of  the  vanity  of  life,  as  to  con- 
sider their  houses  as  inns,  in  which 
they  were  to  lodge  as  it  were  only 
for  a  night  They  were  solabour- 
ious,  that  even  their  amusements 
were  adapted  to  strengthen  die  body, 
and  improve  the  mind :  They  pro- 
hibit the  bonrowmg  of  money,  ex- 
cept on  condition  of  pledging  a  de- 

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posit  80  important,  that  a  man  who 
deferred  the  redemption  of  it,  was 
looked  upon  with  horrour. 

It  b  well  known,  that  the  Egyp- 
tian priests  have  uniformly  been 
considered  by  ancient  historians,  as 
possessing  many  valuable  secrtu, 
and  as  being  the  greatest  proficients 
in  the  arts  and  sciences  of  their 
times.  Whether  they  actually  pos- 
sessed the  masonic  secrets,  ornou 
we  cannot  absolutely  determine ; 
but  we  have  strong  circumstantial 
reasons  to  believe  they  did.  It  was 
here  that  Pythagoras  was  initiated 
into  their  mysteries,  and  instructed 
m  their  art  It  was  here,  that  sculp 
ture  and  architecture,  and  all  tlie 
sciences  of  the  times,  were  so  greatly 
perfected.  And  here  it  has  been 
thought  by  some  of  the  most  curious 
observers  of  antiquity,  that  masonry 
has  been  held  in  high  estimation. 

Several  Egyptian  obelisks  still 
remain,  some  of  which  were,  in  the 
reign  of  Augustus,  conveyed  to 
Ro^e.  On  these  obelisks  are  cu- 
riously engraved  mduiy  hieroglyphi- 
cal  and  masonic  emblems. 

Egypt,  by  ancient  philosophers, 
was  considered  as  the  seat  of  science. 
Hence  we  find,  that  Homeri  I^cur- 
gus,  Solon,  Pythagoras,  Plato, 
Thales,  and  many  others,  of  the 
ancient  poets,  statesmen,  and  phQo- 
sophers,  frequently  visited  Egypt, 
where  many  of  them  were>  by  tne 
Egyptian  priests,  initiated  into  their 
mysteries.  Cecrops,  an  Egyptian, 
was  the  original  founder  of  Athens. 
Hence,  a  correspondence  would  ne- 
cessarily continue  for  a  considerable 
time,  between  those  countries.  And 
if  this  correspondence  did  not  afford 
a  suitable  medium  for  the  trantfer 
of  those  mysteries,  ^et  those  philo- 
sophers, who  were  m  the  baoit  of 
visiting  Egypt,  would,  of  course, 
carry  back  to  their  native  country 
whatever,  they  deemed  valuable  Ibc 
then-  own  citizens. 

Many  Incidental  circumstances, 
however,  occur  in  the  history  of  the 


y  Gfrecian  States,  which  strongly  hr 
vour  the  idea  of  the  ejdstepce  of  ai»- 
sonry  among  that  j^ple.  From 
the  many  which  might  oe  meotioa- 
ed,  two  only  can  be  admitted  mto 
this  work.  At  the  time  when  the 
plague  proved  so  mortal  In  the  aty 
of  Athens,  /Tippocrates,  a  native  e( 
the  island  of  Coss,  being  eminent  as 
a  physician,  was  invited  to  Atimis. 
He  iidmediately  obeyed,  and  pro>' 
ved  abundantly  serviceable  in  tfaac 
pestilential  disorder.  Such  was  the 
gratitude  of  the  Athenians,  that  it 
was  decreed,  he  should  be  initiated 
into  the  most  exalted  mysteries  if 
their  nation.  In  tumog  over  tfae 
historic  paoes  of  Persia,  every  ma- 
son will  behold  many  of  his  princi- 
ples cordially  received  and  cheriih- 
Ied,  by  the  first  characters  who  shed 
a  lustre  through  every  department 
of  government  in*  those  diMant 
realms,  h  was  here  that  the  di3- 
dren  of  the  royal  family  were  at  14 
yearsof  age,  put  under  the  tuition 
of  four  of  the  wisest  and  most  vir- 
tuous statesmen.  The  first  taugbt 
them  the  worship  of  the  gods ;  the 
second  trained  them  up  so  wpetk 
truth  and  practice  equity  :  the  thiid 
habituated  them  to  subdue  voh^ 
tuousness,  to  enjoy  real  liberty,  to 
be  always  [mnces^  and  atwajrs  mas- 
ters of  themselves  and  th&r  own 
passions ;  the  fourth  inspired^lm 
with  oousage,  and  by  teadiiog^iD 
how  to  command  themselves,  taught 
them  how  to  maintam  dotmnioB 
over  others,  tt  was  here,  thi^ 
falsehood  was  considered  byeveiy 
class  of  people,  in  the  most  horrid 
light,  as  a  vice  the  meanest  and  most 
disgracefuL  It  was  here  that  thar 
showed  a  noble  generosi^,  confer- 
ring favours  on  the  nations  they  con- 
querred,  and  leaving  them  to  enjoy 
fidl  the  ensigns  of  their  former  gran- 
deiu*.— -Beadlbt. 

WILLUM  FLEMING, 

FJUlfTEB. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


THS 

AMERICAN 


AMD 


Ladies'  and  Gentlemen's  Magazine. 


BY  LUTHER  PRATT. 


**  Whoso  stoppeth  his  ear  against  the  cry  of  the  poor,  shall  cry  himself^ 
and  shall  not  be  heard.''  But  <<  he  that  hath  a  bountiful  eye,  shall  be 
blessed,  for  he  giveth  of  his  bread  to  tlie  poor.''  Solomon. 

[No.  v.]      FOR  FEBRUARY,  A.  D.  1823.  A.  L.  5823.      [Vol.  H.] 

Note. — No  number  was  issued  in  January,  owing  to  the  impractability 
of  procuring  paper  of  a  suitable  quality,  in  season. 


MASOMC. 


For  the  Masonic  Register. 

CHRISTIAN  MASON. 

NO.  IX. 

BT  companion  SAMUEL  WOODWORTH< 

When  die  master  mason  has 
been  duly  prepared  to  pass  from  the 
outer  to  the  inner  court  of  the  ma- 
sonic temple,  or  to  be  devoted  from 
the  lodge  to  the  chaptery  he  repre- 
sents one  who,  in  the  process  of  re- 
generation, has  sacrificed  his  sensual 
affections  on  the  altar  of  duty ;  one 
who  has  died  unto  sin,  and  been 
ratted  to  a  life  of  righteousness;  one 
who  has  fought  mamully  in  the  hour 
of  temptation,  and  obtained  a  deci- 
sive victory  over  such  spiritual  ad- 
versaries as  were,  in  that  state,  per- 
mitted to  assauh  him.    In  this  h'ts 
cepresmtative  character,  he  b  now 
about  to  reaTiEe  the  promise  of  our 
Lord,  where  he  says,  <^  To  him  that 
overcometh  will  I  give  to  eat  of  the 
hidden  manna,  and  ^irill  give  him  a 

VOL-  |h  21 


white  stoncy  and  in  the  stone  a  new 
name  written,  which  no  man  know« 
eih  saving  he  that  receiveth  it."* 

This  white  stone  represents  the 
fundamental  truth   on    which  the 
Christian  church  b  founded,  viz.  the 
divinity  of  our  Lord  and    Saviour 
Jesus  Christ,  ^'in  whom  dweUs  all 
the  fulhiess  of  the  Godhead  bodily  ."t 
This  is  the  stone  which  the  Jewbh 
builders  rejected,  but  which  has  now 
become  the  head  of  the  comer.| 
This    is  the  key-stone  which  suj^ 
ports  the  royal  arch  of  Chrbtianitv; 
without  it,  the  spiritual  temple  in  tne 
human  heart  will  remain  unfinished ; 
the  work  of  regeneration  will  be 
incomplete.    It  is  true  that  the  im^ 
portance  of  this  truth  is  not  at  first 
perceived  or  acknowledged  ;  but  if 
the  industrious  spiritual  masoo  per- 
severe until  he  attain  to  the  eixth 
day  of  his  new  creation,  he  will  then 
become  sensible  that  this  rejected 
stone  is  the  noblest  in  the  edifice. 

•  Rev.  ii,  17. 

t  Coloss.  ii,  9. 

I    Matt,     xxi,    -48— Mark     xit 


162 


MASONIC. 


Until  his  e!e\'ation  to  the  fourth 
degree  of  spiritual  mnsoiuy  ;  until 
he  enters  the  sanctuary  of  the  tem- 
ple ;  or^  in  other  words,  until  this 
period  or  state  of  regeneration,  man 
worships  an  "  unknown  God."    It  is 
true  til  at  he  has  discovered,  among 
the  materials  preparing  for  hit  spiri- 
tual temple,  a  truth,  or  doctrine  of 
incomparable  beauty,  namely,  that 
"  God  was  in  Clirist  reconciling  the 
world  to  himself"*  On  the  first  dis- 
covery of  thb  white  stone,  6r  the  first 
perception  of  this  truth,  the  spin- 
tual  labourer  too  ofYen  appropriates 
it  to  himself,  and  is  thus  led  to  rest 
his  hopes  of  salvation  on  a  wrong 
basts.      Fondly  imagining  that  he 
has  a  talisman    in    his   possession 
which  will  secure  him  tlie  favour  of 
God  and  eternal  life ;  he  pauses  in  his 
allotted  duties,  and  expects  a  reward 
for  labours  not  his  own,     Dut  in- 
stead of  submitting  the  question  to 
the  Master  Builder  of  his  spiritual 
temple^  instead  of  testing  and  con- 
firmmg  the    new  doctrhie   by  the 
wbrd  of  God,  he  submits  it  tothose 
subordinate  prmciples  of  the  mind, 
which,  being  carnal  and  sensual,  are 
sure  to  reject,  instead  of  illustrating 
it.     He  remains  ignorant  of  the  use 
and  application  of  the  treasure  in  his 
possession,  and  casts  it  out  amonu 
tlie  rubbish  of  the  building,  as  useless 
or  unworthy  a  place  in  the  spiritual 
edifice;  ana  the  Great  Architect  of 
the  universe  still  remains  unmani- 
fested  to  the  sou),  or  else  divided 
into  a  plurality  of  persons. 

It  is  soon  perceived,  however, 
that  the  spiritual  house  cannot  stand 
>/»it]iout  this  rejected  doctrine.  A 
key-stone  is  wanted  to  complete  the 
royal  arch,  and  that  which  'had  been 
rejected  by  the  pride  of  self-derived 
intelligence,  and  that  alone,  is  now 
found  to  be  the  one  intended  for  the 
head  of  the  corner.  "  It  is  the 
Lord's  doings,  and  is  marvellous  ip 
our  eyes."  «  Whosoever  shall  fall 
on  this  stone,  shall  be  broken  ;  but 

*  ii.  Cor.  V,  19. 


on  whomsoever  it  shall  (all,  it  will 
grind  him  to  powder."    There  u 
danger  ih  appropriating  to  ourselves 
the  righteousness  and  merits  of  ano- 
ther, and  attempting  to  pass  tbem  off 
as  our  own.     There  is  equal  danger 
in  trusting  to  our  own  abdiiy,  asd 
demanding  the  reward,  without  ex- 
hibiting the  true  mark.     The  hand 
which  thus  offends,  should  becxt  of. 
As  tliis  white  stone^  dierefore,  is 
a  type  and  figure  of  tl\e  grand  fun- 
damental truth,  doctrine,  or  feith  of 
the  Christian  church,  (individually 
as  well  as  collectively)  th^nttsnomt 
which  is  written  tjiereon,and  *^ifhidi 
no  man  knoweth  saving  he  whore- 
cciveth  it,"  must  consequently  sig- 
nify the  nature  and  quality  of  such 
faith ;  for  a  name  is  alwavs  intejided 
to  express  the  nature  and  qualit\'  of 
the  subject  to  which  it  is  applied} 
and  the  quaUty  of  a  man's  faith  can 
only  be  known  to  the  Lord,  and  to 
himself.  By  receiving  BtohiteiUmef 
therefore,  on  which  is  written  a  nev 
name,    the  spiritual   mason  under- 
stands faith  of  a  new  qucMty,  viik 
pure  genuine  faith  in  one  God,  of 
whom  Jesus  Christ  is  the  exteroal 
manifestation.* 

The  establishmentof  this  glorious 
truth  in  the  mind  of  a  regenerate 
person,  is  represented,  in  the  first 
chapter  of  Genesis,  by  the  creation 
of  the  sun  and  moon  in  the  firina- 
ment    of    heaveix,    to  give  ligW 
upon  the  earth.     The  humble  peni- 
tent now,  for  the  first  time,  cleany 
perceives,  and  is  convinced,  that  it 
was  the  Lord  who  fought  for  himi^ 
the  hour  of  temptation,  althouglnt 
was  then  permitted  to  appears  if  w 
had  gained  the  victory  by  his  own 
strength.     This  perception  and  con- 
viction light  up  a  ilame  of  love  in  he 
will,  which  warms^  vivifies,  and  in- 
vigorates every  thought  and  action. 
This  is  faith  m  tlie  hewt ;  or  what  is 
•  No  man  bath  seen  God  at  any 
time. — John  i,  18. 

He  who  hath  seen  me,  hatb»ec» 
the  Father. — John  xiv,  9. 

Digitized  b^  VjQOQIC 


MASONIC. 


l€5 


Mufy  cMled  saving  faith.  In  the  se- 
cond 9tate  or  degree,  he  had  faith  in 
the  memory  only ;  in  the  third 
state  or  degree,  he  had  faith  in 
the  understanding ;  but  now,  for  the 
iirst  time,  he  has  fkith  in  the  heart. 
This  is  pure  genuine  faith,  derived 
from  love,  and  working  by  love,  as 
the  moon  derives  her  light  from  the 
son,  and  shines  by  his  influence. 
May  this  sun  never  be  darkened, 
nor  this  moon  withold  her  light ;  for 
it  IS  this  sun  which  opens  and  en- 
lightens the  lodge  of  every  Chris- 
tianas mind  ;  sets  the  craA  to  work, 
or  puts  his  spiritual  faculties  into 
operation ;  and  rules,  governs,  and 
directs  them,  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
glorify  Grod,  and  edify  man. 

During  the  three  proceeding  de- 
grees of  spiritual  masonry,  or  during 
die  three  first  states  of  regeneration, 
the  human  mind  is  compared  to  the 
building  of  a  house,  tabernacle,  or 
temple.  But  now,  when  the  candi- 
date is  so  far  advanced  as  to  produce 
ihefirsifrmUofrighieousneggf  he 
may,  with  equal  propriety,  be  com- 
pared to  a  vineyard^  planted  by  the 
great  householder,  Jesus  Christ* — 
In  reading  the  5th  chapter  of  the 
prophet  I^ah,  the  enlightened  ma- 
son is  instantly  struck  with  the  beau- 
ty and  fitness  of  diis  comparison, 
where  the  prjphet  begins  with  say- 
ing, "  Now  will  I  sing  to  my  well- 
beloved  a  song  of  my  beloved,  touch- 
ing his  vineyard.  My  well-beloved 
hath  a  vineyard  in  a  very  fruitful 
hill.''  And  after  describing  several 
particulars  concerning  thisrincyorrf. 
and  especially  concerning  its  un- 
fruitfulness,  he  concludes  his  para- 
ble with  these  words,  "  The  twic- 
yard  of  the  Lord  of  hosts  is  the 
hoose  of  Israel,  and  the  men  of  Ju- 
dah  his  pleasant  plant;  and  he  look- 
ed for  judgrnent,  but  behold  oppres- 
sion ;  for  righteousness,  but  behold 
aciy.** 

The  mind  of  every  person  is  a 
l^rden,  or  vineyard,  planted  by  the 
Lord,  and  it  is  our  duty  <<  to  dress  it, 


.-.nd  to  keep  it,"  and  to  make  it 
fruitful.  The  Heavenly  vine^  or  di- 
vine truth,  is  implanted  in  all  who 
hear  the  word  of  Grod.  But  this  vine 
may  be  wholly  barren^  and  tcitltout 
fruit,  or  it  may  yield  fruit  of  a  poi- 
sonous and  noxious  quality,  which 
are  the  wild  and  sour  grapes  spoken 
of  by  the  prophet,  iwd  the  grapes 
of  gall  described  by  Moses*  In 
other  cases,  it  may  yield  good 
grapes,  from  whence  is  produced 
that  Heavenly  toine  of  which  the 
Lord  speaks  to  his  disciples,  when 
he  says,  ^^  I  will  not  drink  hence* 
forth  of  this  fruit  of  the  vine, 
until  that  day  when  I  drink  it  new 
with  you  in  my  Father's  kingdom.''* 
The  nature  and  fruit  of  Uiis  spir- 
itual vtfie  must  necessarily  depend 
upon  the  degree  of  culture  it  re-  . 
ceives  from  the  husbandman  who 
has  the  care  of  it.  Every  human 
being,  at  some  period  of  life,  is  call- 
ed and  hired  to  work  in  the  spiritual 
vineyard.  Some  are  called  early  in 
tlie  morning,  some  at  the  third  luntr^ 
some  at  the  sixth,  some  at  the  ninths 
and  others  not  until  the  eleventh^i 
But  the  reward  is  the  same  to  each. 
Every  one  receives  the  stipulated 
penny  ;  viz.  every  one  Is  gifted  with 
heavenly  love  and  wisdom,  (conse- 
quently with  happiness),  in  exact 
proportion  to  his  desire  of  those 
heavenly  graces,  and  to  the  sinceri^ 
ty  with  which  he  labours  to  root  out 
from  his  mind  all  the  noxious  iveeds 
which  oppose  their  growth.  WheH 
we  commence  the  work  of  regenera- 
tion, we  become  labourers  in  the 
spiritual  vipeyard,  and  our  task  is 
not  an  easy  one.  We  find  it  ^<  an  tin- 
weeded  garden  that  grows  to  seed  $ 
th'mgs  rank  and  gross  in  nature  pos- 
sess it  merdy."  Self-love  must  b« 
cut  down,  and  not  sufiered  to  cum- 
ber the  ground^  sensuality  must  be 
destroy^,  and  all  the  unclean  weeds 
of  iniquity  torn  up  by  the  roots.— 

•  Matt,  xxvi,  29. 
t  Matt.  XX,  1--16. 

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164 


MAM>1U«* 


Then,  by  applying  to  the  granary 
of  God't  hely  wordy  we  ahall  be  fur- 
nished with  the  teedt  of  ffoodness 
and  truth  to  plant  in  their  place. 

Every  man  is  capable  of  being  re«- 
geoeratedy  until  evd  habits  have  be- 
come so  strongly  confirmed  as  to 
renter  the  divine  influence  unavail- 
mg.  The  Holy  Spirit  "  will  not  al- 
ways strive  with  man/'  for  if  he  ob- 
stinatelv  refuse  to  co-operate  until 
after  t%e  eleventh  kaur,  no  further 
cM  is  afforded  him.  The  period  of 
his  cc^MUty  is  called  by  our  Lord 
a  day;  but  ^'the  night  cometh  in 
which  no  man  can  woric."  The 
Almighty  is,  at  all  times,  desirous  to 
communicate  to  man  his  own  eter- 
nal truth  for  the  purpose  of  refor- 
mation and  regeneration;  but  dif- 
f^nt  persons  are  called  (or  rather, 
attend  to  the  call)  at  different  pe- 
riods of  dieir  lives;  some,  therefore, 
enter  upon  this  great  work  at  an 
early  period,  and  some  at  a  later ; 
but  the  recompense  promised  to  all 
is  the  same — ^vis.  in  exact  propor- 
tion to  our  capaci^  of  reception ; 
not  to  the  length  of  time  we  have 
been  eihp^oyed  in  the  work,  but  to 
the  zeu  and  faithfulness  with 
which  we  have  performed  it 

Our  Lord  says,  ^'are  there  not 
twelve  hours  in  the  day  ?"  But  the 
householder  invited  no  one  to  work 
in  die  vineyard  afler  the  eleventh 
hour.  Hence  we  are  taught  how 
dangerous  it  is  to  trust  to  a  death- 
bed repentance.  Many  may  say. 
In  that  nour,  <<  Lord,  we  repent  that 
we  have  not  wrought  an  hour  in  thy 
Vineyard,'*  but  wil\  he  say,  "well 
done  thou  good  and  faithful  servant,'^ 
and  give  them  the  recompense  to 
which  the  faithful  labourers  are  en- 
titled? Alas!  no.  The  God  of 
Justice  will  say,  "  I  know  you  not ; 
depart  from  me,  ye  workers  of  ini- 
quity.'' 

But  our  limits  compel  us  to  defer 
a  further  consideration  of  this  intel^ 
esting  subject  to  another  number ; 
when  we  shall  attempt   to  show, 


among  other  thmgs,  that  tboae  ^Hi« 
are  the  kutp  or  lo«r^  in  their  ova 
estimation^  are  the  J&sC)  or  b^best^ 
in  the  estimation  of  the  great  Houte* 
hokier,  who  says,  *^thebut  MhaH  he 
[firM,  andthejrti  latL^  ARmui^ 
kxod  arecolZedtowork  indieyino* 
yard  ;  a  few  only  obey  die  caH.— «^ 
j4ll  have  the  power  to  obey — and  aM 
might  be  cAosen  if  they  would. 


ELEGANT   EXTKAOT. 

"  The  long,  and  uninterrupted 
existence  of  masonry  in  the  worlds 
is  a  circumstance  which  cannot  es- 
cape the  observation  of  the  contem- 
plative, nor  fail  to  excite  some  de- 
gree of  wonder,  in  those  at  least, 
who  understand  not  its  pure  and 
well-formed  system.  It  has  stood 
the  waste  of  time,  through  many  re- 
volving ages ;  amulst  the  successive 
revolutions  of  states  and  empires,  of 
human  laws,  and  customs,  it  has  r&> 
mained  without  any  change  in  its 
principles,  and  without  any  materia 
alteration  in  its  original  form. — 
Placed  on  the  immovaUe  bass  of 
the  best  natural  principles  of  the 
human  heart,  its  pillars  have  re* 
mained  unshaken,  amidst  the  rage 
of  every  varied  storm,  and  to  tms 
hour,  have  suffered  no  decay." 

GRAND  LODGE  OF  NEW- 
YORK. 

Extracts  from  the  proceediDgs  of 
the  Grand  Lodge  of  the  Slate  rf 
New-York,  at  their  quarteily 
communications,  between  Jooa 
24,  A.  L.  5821,  and  June  34, 
A.  L.  5832. 

December  5,  5821. 

The  grand  secretary  comminwra* 

ted,  that,  since  the  quarterly  cooif 

munications  in  June  last,  the  fbUow- 

ing  new  warrants  had  been  issued^ 

VIZ. 


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VAfomc. 


165 


On  the  11th  of  Janei  A.  L.  5921, 
to  John  Baptiste  Do  Mondt,  masteryj 
James  M^GinniB,  senior  wanlen,  and 
Inac  L  HasbroudE,  jnmor  warden, 
to  hoid  a  lodge  in  the  town  of  Mar- 
bletown,  in  the  county  of  Ulster,  by 
the  name  and  style  of  Rbing  San 
Lodge,  No.  S36. 

C^  the  5th  of  September,  A.  L. 
5S21,  to  John  MuDett,  master,  John 
Farrar,  senior  warden,  and  Jere- 
miah Moors,  junior  warden,  to  hold 
a  lodge  in  the  city  of  Detroit,  in  the. 
Michigan  territory^  United  Sutes  of 
America,  by  the  name  and  style  of 
Detroit  Lodge^  No.  337* 

March  6,  5822. 

The  minutes  of  the  last  quarterly 
communication,  and  of  the  last 
Grand  Stewards'  Lodge,  were  seve- 
rally read  and  confirmed. 

It  appearing  by  the  minutes  of 
the  Grand  Stewards'  Lodge,  that  a 
demand  had  been  made  by  the  W. 
Caleb  Bacon,,  to  be  paid  for  the  use 
of  hb  room^  &c.,  while  occupied  by 
the  committee  of  charity,  of  which 
he  is  a  member,  and  that  the  same 
had,  by  order  of  that  body,  been 
submitted  to  tliis  grand,  lodge  for 
their  opinion  and  decision,  a  motion 
was  made  that  the  said  bill  be  paid, 
and  the  same  decided  in  the  nega- 
tive. It  was  then  moved  and  car- 
ried, that  a  dimationof  dollars 
be  grantied  to  Br.  Bacon ;  and  upon 
fiUiilg  the  blank,  the  sum  often  dol- 
lars was  agreed  to.  The  question 
was  then  tidcen  upon  the  resolution 
as  filled  up>  and  decided  in  the  ne- 
^tive. 

The  following  appointments,  by 
^le  most  worshipfid  grand  inaster, 
were  announced,  and  ordered  to  be 
antered  on  the  minutes,  viz. 
R.  W.  George  Hodgson,  G.  S.  B. 
R.  W.  Samuel  Montgomery,  G.  M. 
R.  W.  John  G.  Tardy,  G.  Std.  B. 
W-  James  Lyons,  jr.    1 
W.  Abraham  Rider,    I      Grand 
W.  George  B.  Smith,  I    Stewards. 
W.  William  iM.  Price,) 


W.  Manhew  L.  Davis,  S.  G.  D. 
W.  Henry  Marsh,  jun.  J.  G.  D. 

The  grand  secretair  communica- 
ted, that  since  the  last  quarterly 
communication,  the  following  new 
warrants  had  been  issued,  viz* 

On  the  5th  of  December,  A.  L. 
5821,  to  Erastus  Worthington,  mas- 
ter, George  W.  Rodgers,  senior- 
warden,  and  Ralph  Malbone,  junior 
warden,  to  hold  a  lodge  in  the  vil- 
lage of  Brooklyn,  in  the  town  of 
Brooklyn,  in  the  county  of  Kings, 
by  the  name  and  style  of  Hohenlin- 
den  Lodge,  No.  338. 

On  the  6th  of  December,  A.  L. 
5821,  to  James  Jenkinson,  master, 
Edward  Hamilton,  senior  warden, 
and  Robert  Stewart,  junior  warden, 
to  hold  a  lodge  in  the  city  of  New- 
York,  in  the  county  of  New-Yoric, 
by  the  name  and  style  of  Hibemia 
Lodge,  No.'  339. 

On  the  7th  of  December,  A.  L. 
5821,  to  Peter  F.  Thatcher,  master, 
Samuel  B.  Bradley,  senior  warden, 
and  Austin  Spencer,  junior  warden,, 
to  hold  a  lodge  in  the  town  of  Parma^ 
in  the  county  of  Monroe,  by  the 
name  and  style  of  Parma  Lodge, 
No.  340. 

On  the  8th  of  December,  A.  L. 
5821,  to  Jacob  Satterly,  master, 
Isaac  Crocker,  senior  warden,  and 
Jacob  L  Low,juniorwarden,tohold 
a  lodge  in  the  town  of  Manlius,  in 
the  county  of  Onondaga,  by  the 
name  and  style  of  James  ville  Lodge, 
No.  341. 

Reports  of  the  constituting  of 
Rising  Sun  Lodge,  No.  336,  on  the 
Ist  January  last;  of  Detroit  Lodge, 
No.  337,  on  the  26th  December 
last ;  of  Hohenlinden  Lodce,  No. 
338,  on  the  10th  December  test ;  of 
Hibemia  Lodge,  No.  339,  on  the 
28th  December  last ;  andofJames- 
ville  Lodge,  No.  341,  on  the  22d 
January  last,  and  of  the  installation 
of  their  respective  officers,  were  re* 
ceived,  and  (ordered  to  be  filed. 

On  motion  of  the  W.  Bn  Manh, 
of  No.  142,  it  was 


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166 


'  uxsomc. 


Resolved,  That  a  committee  be 
chosen  to  examine  whether  any, 
and  what  reduction  ought  to  be  maoe 
in  the  salaries  of  the  respective  offi- 
cers of  this  grand  lodge,  to  whom 
salaries  arecdlowed,  and  to  report 
tiiereon  at  the^  next  quarterly  com- 
munication. 

Resolved,  That  the  grand  secre- 
tary prepare  a  list,  alphabetically 
arranged,  of  all  suspended  and  ex- 
pelled masons,  reported  to  this 
grand  lodge,  from  the  year  A.  L. 
5800  to  this  day,  and  that  he  cause 
the  same  to  be  printed,  and  a  copy 
furnished  to  every  lodge  under  the 
jurisdiction. 

Jnne  5,  5822. 

The    following   communication 
from  the  W.  William  S.  Cardell, 
conveying  the  proceedings  of  an  as- 
semblage of  masons  at  Washington, 
ndating  to  the  formation  of  a  gene- 
ral grand    lodge   for    the    United 
States  'y  and  a  report  made  to  the 
grand  lodge  of   Pennsylvania   on 
the  same   subject,  by  a  committee 
ofthat  body  to  whom  the  aforesaid 
communication  had  been  referred, 
were  severally  laid  before  this  grand 
lodge,  aiHl  referred  to 
R,  W.  John  Brush,  D.  G.  M. 
R.  W.  John  Greig,  S.  G.  W. 
R.W.  Joseph  Enos,  P.  G.V. 
W.  :Matthew  L.  Davis,  of  No.  84, 
W.  Henry  W.  Ducachet,  of  No.  2, 
W.  Simeon  Ford,  of  No.  — , 
W.  John  Coffin,  of  No.  83, 
W.  William  M.  Price,  of  No.  16, 
W.  Richard  GoodeU,  of  No.  125 
[For  the  proceedings  at  Wash- 
ington, see  Masonic  Register,  Vol. 
ii,  No.  ii,  page  76,] 

«  H^pari  to  the  Right  Worslnpful 
Grand  Lodge  of  PemuyhaniaJ^ 

"  The  committee,  to  whom  was 
referred  the  communication  of  the 
proceedings  of  ^'  A  number  of  mem> 
bers  of  the  society  of  freemasons, 
from  various  parts  of  the  Unked 


States,  composed  of  membe- 
congress  and  strangen,  assemi».^ 
atthecapitol  in  the  city  of  W^" 
ington,  March  9>  1822,recommi 
ing  the  establishment  of  a  Gm 
Grand  Lodge  of  ike  United  Stat' 
make  report, 

«  That  they  have  considered 
communication  referred  to  theff 
with  all  the  care  and  attentiofi  tfai 
the  importance  of  its  object, 
the  respectability  of  ihe  source  hm 
which  it  emanated,  would  reqnivw 
By  a  reference  to  the  proceedingi  s 
this  grand  lodge,  it  will  apper 
that  as  early  as  the  year  17W,  ^ 
grand  lodge  of  Georgia  propoM 
the  establishment  of  a  geneni' 
grand  lodge  throughout  the  Vta- 
ted  States.  On  the  7th  June,  1790. 
the  ^nd  lodge  of  Pennsylvanu 
unanimously  expressed  its  disappro- 
bation of  the  proposed  measure, 
which,  at  that  time,  appears  t« 
have  been  abandoned. 

"  On  the  24th  June,  1799,  A« 
grand  lod^  of  SoutlhCan^iot. 
prompted,  it  is  imagined,  by  its  then 
peculiar  situation,  renewed  the  pro> 
positions  of  a  general  grand  loagCj 
for  the  purpose  of  reviving  ^  Stt 
drooping  spirit  of  the  AncieBt 
Craft,"  and  adopted  a  number  of 
resolutions  similar  to  those  ecmiaiih 
ed  in  the  communication  now  refer- 
red, and  declaring  that  thev  wooM 
appoint  deputies  to  meet  the  ooo- 
vention  at  Washington,  as  soon  tt 
two-thirds  of  the  different  grand 
lodges  in  the  United  States  shooM 
approve  of  the  measure.  The 
grand  lodge  of  South-Cwolina 
transmitted  its  proceedings  to  the 
different  grand  lodges,  aikl  among 
others,  to  that  of  Penntylvania.  On 
the  7th  March,  1803,  the  grand 
lodge  of  Pennsylvania,  while  tiw 
proceedmgs  from  South-Carofina 
were  under  consideration,  decbied, 
^  That  a  supreme  sup^intendiag 
grand  lodge  in  the  United  Stales  if 
inexpedient  and  impractijcable,  but 
that  a  convention  of  deputies  £ra9 


I 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


>,^-T^  -^/er^i  grand  lodges,    for  the 
>ose  of  forming  a  more  intimate 
ioriy    and  establishing  a  regular 
"  permanent  intercourse  between 
said  grand  lodges,   and  consi- 
ing    other    interesting    matters, 
Id  be  conducive  to  the  advance- 
it  and  respectability  of  the  An- 
It    Craft/^      These    sentiments 
re    subsequently    approved    and 
^pted    by    the  grand  lodges  of 
-Ilampsbire,       Massachusetts, 
r-Jersey,*  Maryland,  and  Virgi- 
and  by  the    grand  lodge  of 
>rgia,  in  which  the  measure,  in 
fOOy    was  originally  brought  for- 
rd. 

«  On  the  6th  March,  1809,  this 
grand  lodge,  having  the  original 
eommunication  from  South-Caroli> 
na  still  under  consideration,  once 
more  unanimously  reiterated  their 
ibmier  sentiments  upon  this  subject, 
and  by  the  report  of  the  committee  of 
\^rrespondence,  made  at  that  time, 
it  xtppears,  these  sentiments  were 
again,  in  the  years  ISOT-S,  concur- 
r^  in  by  the  grand  lodges  of  New- 
Hampshire,  Massachusetts^  Connec- 
ticut, and  New-Jersey. 

"  After  a  careful  review  of  the 
whole  ground,  your  committee  most 
fully  and  cordially  concur  in  the 
sentiments  heretofore  expressed  by 
your  body  •n  this  subject.  Previous 
to  the  American  revolution,  provin- 
cial grand  lodges  were  established 
in  the  colonies,  under  the  jurisdic- 
tion of  the  grand  lodge  of  England. 
After  the  declaration  of  independ- 
ence by  these  United  States,  the 
difierent  provincial  grand  lodges 
declared  themselves  sovereign  and 
independent.  Well-known  and  es- 
tablished boundaries,  whether  natu- 
ral or  artificial,  have  always  been 
fixed  upon  as  the  limits  of  the  juris- 
diction of  seperate  grand  lodges. 
In  this  country,  therefore,  w6  have 
always  been  divided  by  states,  and 
such  a  division  appears  to  your  com- 
mittee to  be  useful  and  judicious. — 
Under  thb    system,  masonry   has 


MASONIC  l-^T 

Continued  to  advance  in  the  United 
States  to  a  degree  of  splendour  and 
brilliancy  hitherto  unparalleled,  and 
no  longer  requires  any  new  plan  "  to 
revive  its  drooping  spirit  ;*'  little  or 
no  collision  has  ever  existed  between 
the  different  grand  lodges;  and  so 
far  as  the  knowledge  of  your  com- 
mittee extends,  the  utmost  harmony 
and  cordiality  now  subsist,  without 
an  exception,  between  the  different 
grand  lodges  throughout  the  Uni-* 
ted  3tat6f, 

"  in  the  opinion  of  your  commit- 
tee, the  reasons  that  produced  the 
present  political  confederation,    or 
union  of  tlie  United  States,  altoge- 
ther fail  when  applied  to  the  inter- 
ests of  freemasoniy.      The    grand 
lodges  of  England,  Scotland,  and 
Ireland,  are  sovereign  and  independ- 
ent of  each  other ;  they  are  conti- 
guous ;  their  jurisdictions  embrace 
a  less  space  of  territory  than  the 
United  States  ;  and  th^  are  under 
one  consolidated  government,  with- 
out even  the  subdivision  of  power, 
peculiar  to  our  state  and  federal  go- 
vernments.    We  believe  in  Ae  mo- 
ther country  they  have  experienced 
as  few  evils  from  this  system  as  we 
have ;  and  although  the  late  union 
of  the  two  grand  lodges  in  Eng- 
land presented  a  favourable  oppor- 
tunity of  proposing  to  establish  one 
consolidated  general  grand   lodge, 
if  it  had  been  desired,  yet  we  do  not 
find  that  it  was  even  proposed. 

•*  In  the  opinion  of  your  commit- 
tee, the  exercise  of  a  jurisdiction,  so 
extensive,  and  so  particular  as  that 
proposed,  comprehending,  not  only 
the  most  important  concerns,  but 
the  most  minute  affairs  of  the  subor- 
dinate lodges,  would  be  attended 
with  innumerabledelays,  difficulties, 
and  embarrassments,  and  would  pro- 
duce the  greatest  confusion  and  dis- 
order throughout  the  whole  fraterni- 
ty. The  general  advantage  of  the 
craft  requires  that  the  subordinate 
lodges  should  be  placed  under  the 
immediate  superintending  care  of  a 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


^^^  MASONIC 

grand  lodge,  wbicli  by  its  prox- 
imity ofsitiiation,  and  the  exercise  of 
its  legitimate  authority,  may  correct 
their  errors,  attend  to  their  wants, 
and  inspire  them  with  the  subHme 
spirit  of  om- order.  The  establish- 
ment of  a  general  grand  lodge 
would  deprive  the  different  grand 
lodges  of  these  powers;  they  would 
become  subordinate  bodies;  and 
not  only  every  lodge,  but  each  indi- 
vidual memberof  every  lodge,  would 
have  the  right  of  appeal  to  the  gpn- 
eral  grand  lodge.  The  proceedings 
of  the  subordinate  grand  lodge, 
would,  in  many  cases,  I>e  reversed 
at  a  great  distance  from  the  scene  of 
action,  where  the  parties  were  but 
httle  known,  the  circumstances  of 
the  case  less  understood,  the  grand 
lodge  appealed  from,  perhaps,  not 
represented,  and  the  ultimate  tribu- 
nal operated  upon,  by  the  perseve- 
rance and  importunities  of  such  of 
the  parties  as  might  attend  upon  its 
deliberations. 

"  It  is  also  feared,  that  in  the 
course  of  time,  many  of  tlie  grand 
lodges  would  be  nominally  repre- 
sented, and  thus  the  aUributes  of  this 
colossal  power,  embracing  complete 
and  universal  controul  over  the  fis- 
cal and  more  purely  masonic  con- 
cerns of  every  grand  lodge,  subord- 
inate lodge,  and  individual  member 
in  the  United  States,  would  be  con- 
centrated  in  the  hands  of  a  few,  who 
would  constitute  the  meeting.  To 
prevent  tliis  evil,  it  may  be  said,  the 
meetings  of  this  genei-al  grand 
lodge  might  be  less  frequently  hol- 
den;  but  in  the  opinion  of  your 
committee,  this  would  be  an  insur- 
mountable objection.  A  prompt 
decision,  upon  all  questions  connects 
ed  with  masonry,  is  absolutely  ne- 
cessary ;  and  the  delay  and  procras- 
tination consequent  upon  an  appeal 
to  the  general  grand  lodge,  as  well 
in  trivial,  as  impoitant  concerns, 
would  be  a  greater  evil  than  all  the 
advantages  to  be  derived  from  the 
establishment  of  the  body.     The 


distance  of  many  of  the  grao^ 
lodges  from  the  scat  of  govern- 
ment,  and  the  inclemency  of  tiic 
season  proposed  as  the  time  of  meet- 
ing,  would  be  serious  difficuitiei. 
It  IS  to  be  apprehended,  that  persons 
would  be  selected  as  delegates,  ra- 
ther from  the  circumstance  of  their 
attendance  upon  the  seat  of  govern, 
ment,  upon  public  duty  or  private 
business,  than  from  the  knowledge 
of  the  principles  of  the  order,  and  its 
forms  and  ceremonies.  The  meni- 
bers  of  such  a  body  as  ilie  one  pro- 
posed, ought  to  be  inUmately  oc- 
quamted  with  the  local  concerns  and 
separate  interests  of  the  bodies  thev 
represent ;  not  only  ought  thev  to 
have  been  bright  and  expert  wixkr 
meii,-in  their  progression  to  distinc- 
tion iu  the  order,  but  they  should  con- 
tinue to  be  so,  by  constant  and  ooin- 
terrupied  intercourse  with  the  lodges, 
and  daily  participation  in  ibeir  la- 
bours. In  short,  the  members  of 
such  a  body  ought  to  constitute  the 
masonic  energy  aod  intelligence  of 
the  grand  lodges  whom  ihey  wouW 
represent.  On  the  other  hand,  your 
committee  apprehend  many  of  the 
members  would  be  selected,  rather 
from  their  rank  and  dignity  in  politi- 
cal life,  and  the  casual  circumstances 
before  referred  to,  than  the  possession 
of  those  attainments  iu  the  order, 
which  ought  to  be  necessary  quaTifi- 
cations  of  its  members.  Tlitrse  re- 
marks  are  intended  to  convey  oar 
ideasofwhat  would,  in  the  progress 
of  time,  be  the  result  of  the  esUbKsh- 
ment  of  a  general  grand  lodge,  and 
not  as  reflections  upon  the  highly  re* 
spectable  meeting  who  were  convened 
at  Washington. 

"  Your  committee  howex-er  believe, 
that  an  occasional  convocation  of  del' 
egates  from  Ihe  different  grand 
lodges  would  have  a  salutary  tea- 
dency,  and  would  furnish  a  remedy 
for  many  of  the  evils  delineated  in 
the  communication  referred  to  tfa«n. 
The  deliberations  of  such  an  aupmi 
and  venerable  body,  consoltii^  upon 

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the  great  interests  of  the  order,  and 
dependant  upon  the  good  sense  and 
judgment  of  tlie  crafl  for  the  fulfil- 
ment of  its  wishes,  would  be  receiv- 
ed with  enthusiasm,  and  its  recom- 
mendations performed  with  alacrity. 
Although  your  committee  are  not 
aware,  that  at  present,  "  in  one  or 
two  instances  there  are  already  two 
or  more  grand  lodges  in  the  same 
Qtate,  each  claiming  superior  juris- 
diction," as  is  stated  in  the  commu- 
nication, yet  as  the  evil  has  hereto- 
fore existed,  and  may  occur  again, 
the  contemplated  convention  might 
propose,  as  a  fundamental  principle, 
that  not  more  than  one  grand  lodge 
$ihould  exist  in  a  state ;  and  tliere  is 
little  doubt  but  that  tlie  recommen- 
dation would  be  adopted  by  the  dif- 
ferent grand  lodges.  They  could 
adopt  measures  calculated  to  pro- 
mote an  uniformity  of  work ;  though 
most  assuredly  they  would  find  it 
difficult,  if  not  impracticable,  to  en- 
force universal  obedience  to  any  ma- 
sonic ritual,  whether  it  be  the  good 
old  system,  as  handed  down  to  us 
by  our  masonic  forefathers,  or  any 
of  the  new  plans  that  have  been  re- 
cently adopted  in  various  parts  of 
bur  country.  They  might  also  pro- 
pose measures  calculated  to  suppress 
the  publication  of  improper  books 
on  masonry,  an  evil  already  of  con- 
siderable magnitude,  and  rapidly  in- 
<n'easing  with  the  times. 

<^  Your  committee  are  therefore 
of  opinion,  that  a  grand  convocation 
of  delegates  from  the  different  grand 
lodges  throughout  the  United  States, 
to  meet  on  St.  John  the  Baptist's 
day  in  June,  1823,  in  either  of  the 
cities  of  New- York,  Philadelphia,  or 
Baltimore,  would  be  proper  and  ex- 

Sedient  They  would  observe  some 
elicacy  in  fixmg  upon  our  own  city 
as  the  place  of  meeting;  and  if  either 
of  the  other  cities,  or  any  other  place 
not  yet  designated,  should  be  pre- 
fiffred,  they  would  abandon  their 
preference,  and  cheerfully  abide  by 
Ae  views  of  the'ur  other  brethren. 
VOL.  If.  22 


MASONIC.  xG9 

At  the  same  time  they  would  ob- 
serve, that  the  central  position  of  the 
city  of  Philadelphia,  and  tlie  con- 
veniences afforded  by  the  use  of  the 
Masonic  Hall,  render  it,  in  then* 
himible  opinion,  the  most  suitable 
place  at  which  the  convocation 
should  be  holden.  Your  commit- 
tee believe  that  any  general  meet- 
mg  should  not  be  held  at  the  city  of 
Washington,  but  in  one  of  our  laree 
cities,  where  the  numbers,  wealui, 
and  respectability  of  the  craft,  would 
afford  the  delegates  suitable  accom- 
modations, and  such  other  conve- 
niences as  might  render  their  at- 
tendance pleasant  and  agreeable. 

"  Your  committee,  therefore,  of- 
fer the  following  resolutions  for 
adoption  : 

"Resolved,  That  the  establish- 
ment of  a  general  grand  lodge  of 
the  United  States,  and  the  calUng  a 
masonic  copvention  for  the  purpose 
of  instituting  and  organizing  the 
same,  as  proposed,  is  inexpedient, 
and,  in  the  opinion  of  this  grand 
lodge,  impracticable. 

"  Resolved,  That  a  general  grand 
convention  of  delegates  from  the 
different  grand  lodges  tliroughout 
the  United  States,  for  the  purpose 
of  consulting  upon  the  interests  of 
the  order,  be  recommended  to  be 
holden  on  St  John  the  Baptist's  day 
in  June,  ^the  24th)  1823,  at  the 
city  of  Philadelphia,  or  such  other 
place  as  may  be  designated  by  the 
other  grand  lodges  throughout  the 
United  States. 

"  Resolved,  That  this  grand 
lodge  will  appoint  delegates  to  meet 
such  convocation  as  soon  as  it  shall 
appear  to  be  the  wish  of  the  differ- 
ent grand  lodges  throughout  the 
United  States,  that  the  same  shall 
be  holden. 

"  Resolved,  That  the  grand  sec- 
retary be  requested  to  transmit  co- 
pies of  the  foregoing  report  and  re- 
sokitions  to  tlie  different  grand 
lodges  throughout  the  United  States, 
and  one  eopy  of  the  same  to  Wll- 


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ir2 


MASONIC. 


to  the  56th  rule,  10th  section,  3d 
chapter,  of  the  book  of  constitutions, 
laid  the  following  resolution  upon 
the  table. 

"  Whereas  serious  dissentions 
have  arisen  in  this  grand  lodge,  cal- 
culated to  impair  the  dignity  and  re- 
spectability of  our  order  5  and  where- 
as these  dissentions  are  wide  spread- 
ing their  direful  consequences,  and 
are  fraught  with  mischiefs,  the  ter- 
piination  of  which  cannot  be  fore- 
seen; therefore, 

"  Resolved,  That  it  is  expedient 
to  form,  in  the  state  of  New- York, 
TWO  GAAND  LODGES  J  ouc  to  bc  loca- 
ted in  the  city  of  N^- York,  and  the 
other  in  such  v»wn  or  place,  as  a 
ra^ority  of  the  lodges  out  of  the 
city  may  designate. 

Resolved,  That  the  lodges  out  of 
the  city  be  permitted  to  select  the 
5i^nd  lodge  from  under  whose  juris- 
diction they  will  hail. 

"  Resolved,  That  the  mode  and 
manner  of  dividing  the  funds  be  sub- 
mitted to  the  decision  of  tlie  grand 
lodge  of  tlie  state  of .^ 


We  have  made  the  foregoing  co- 
pious extracts  fVom  the  proceedings 
of  the  right  worshipful  grand  lodge 
of  the  state  of  New- York,  under  the 
impression  that  they  will  be  interest- 
ing, not  only  to  the  brethren  imme- 
diately under  the  jurisdiction  of  our 
own  grand  lodge,  but  to  every  bro- 
ther throughout  the  world,  who  feels 
an  interest  in  the  honour,  res|>ecta- 
bility,  and  usefulness  of  that  institu- 
tion which  has  existed  from  time  im- 
memorial, shedding  its  blessings  on 
community,  through  different  ages, 
in  proportion  to  the  degree  of  order 
and  subordination  that  has  been  ob- 
served among  the  fraternity;  and  the 
zeal  and  activity  of  those  worship- 
ful brpthers  under  ^hose  guardian- 


ship the  inestimable  art  has,  from 
time  to  time,  been  placed.  We  al- 
lude more  particularly  to  that  part 
relative  to  the  highly  important  sub- 
ject of  the  establishment  of  a  Gener- 
al Grand  Lodge  of  the  United  Staiet. 
It  is  not  our  intention  at  present  ta 
enter  into  arguments  as  to  the  mer- 
its or  demerits  of  tlie  measure,  ho- 
ping at  a  future  time  that  the  sub> 
ject  may  be  taken  up  by  some  viorc 
able  pen,  and  that  it  may  be  solemn- 
ly agitated  in  the  mind  of  every  in- 
dividual  of  the  fraternity,  who  hokb 
sacred  tlie  obligatioos  he  is  under  to 
the  order,  and  to  the  world  at  large. 
Our  humble  opinion  was  expressed 
upon  the  subject,  in  the  second  num- 
ber of  this  volume,  at  the  time  of 
the  publication  of  tlie  reconAHMnda- 
tions  at  Washington.  The  readers  of 
the  Masonic  Register  have  now  be- 
fore them  the  proceedmgs  of  two 
highly  respectable,  and  legally  con- 
stituted masonic  bodies  on  the  sub- 
ject, viz.  the  right  worshipful  graCiiH 
lodge  of  Pennsylvania,  and  the  right 
worshipAil  grand  lodge  of  New- 
York  'y  and  by  turning  to  the  76di 
page  of  this  volume,  in  No.  2,  they 
will  see  the  proceedings  at  Wash- 
ington. 

We  have  not  yet  received  the 
proceedings  of  any  of  the  other 
grand  lodges;  but  are  informed, 
from  respectable  authority,  that 
some  of  them  have  passed  resolu- 
tions highly  approbatory  of  the 
measure. 

The  committee  to  whom  was  re- 
ferred the  revbion  of  the  book  tf 
constitutions,  and  the  general  regu- 
lations of  the  grand  lodge  of  New- 
York,    met  according  to  directioD, 


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and  have  formed^  and  caused  to  be 
printed,  a  new  code,  which,  as  it 
will  undoubtedly  undergo  some  al- 
terations and  amendments  at  the 
grand  communication  in  June  next, 
we  forbear  to  publish,  and  refrain 
from  expressing  our  opinion  on  its 
merits.  Every  enlightened  mem- 
ber of  the  grand  lodge,  upon  reflec- 
tion, will  readily  observe  the  imi- 
nent  danger  of  removing,  in  the 
least  degree,  any  of  the  ancient 
landmarks^  as  well  as  the  indispen- 
sable duty  of  preserving,  or  if  they 
have  in  any  way  been  infringed 
upon,  of  restoring  the  equal  rights, 
and  privileges  of  the  most  distant 
brethren  under  the  jurisdiction  of 
the  honourable  body  to  which  he 
belongs. 

For  the  Masonic  Register. 

THE  INEFFABLE   DEGREES 
CONTINUED. 

By  Companion  Giles  F.  Yates. 

VI.  Elected  Knights,  or  the 
Nine  Elect. 

This  lodge  is  called  a  chapter, 
and  represents  the  audience  cham- 
ber of  Solomon.  It  should  be  deco- 
rated with  white  and  red  hangings ; 
the  red  with  white  flames.  There 
should  be  9  lights  in  the  £.,  and  8 
in  the  W. 

The  master  who  represents  Solo- 
mon, is  seated  in  the  E.,  with  a  ta- 
ble before  him,  covered  with  black, 
*'    and  is  styled  "  Most  Potent.^' 

There  is  only  one  warden  in  the 
W,,  who  represents  St.*.,  with  seven 
brethren  around  him.  All  tGe  bre- 
thren must  be  dressed  in  black,  with 
their  hats  flapped,  and  a  broad  black 
ribbon  from  the  left  shoulder  to  the 
right  hip,  on  the  lower  part  of  which 
should  be  9  red  roses,  four  on  each 
side,  and  one  at  the  bottom;  to  which 


masonic.  173 

may  be  suspended  a  poignard. — 
The  aprons  peculiar  to  this  degree 
are  white,  lltied  with  black,  speck- 
led with  blood  ;  on  the  flap  a  bloody 
arm,  with  a  poignard,  and  on  the 
area  a  bloody  arm  holding  by  the 
hair  a  bloody  head. 

Near  the  chapter  room,  it  is  neces-  , 
sary  to  have  a  small  dark  place,  re- 
presenting a  cavern,  which  should 
be  properly  furnished. 

Opened  by  8  and  1. 

The  following  is  an  abstract  of  the 
history  of  tliis  degree  : 

In  the  reign  of  Solomon,  several 
of  the  workmen  had  perpetrated  a 
crime  of  an  enormous  nature,  and 
made  their  escape  from  Jerusalem. 
A  great  assembly  of  masters  had  sat 
in  consultation  on  the  best  means  of 
discovering  them.  Their  delibera- 
tions were  interrupted  by  the  en- 
trance of  the  captain  of  the  guards, 
who  informed  them  that  a  stranger 
who  had  just  arrived,  requested  a 
private  interview  with  king  Solo- 
mon. Upon  being  admitted,  he  in- 
formed the  king,  that  he  knew  where 
one  of  the  traitors  lay  concealed, 
and  oflered  to  conduct  those,  whom 
Solomon  should  please  to  appoint, 
to  go  with  him.  This  being  com- 
municated to  tlie  bretliren,  they  all 
requested  to  be  partakers  in  the  ven- 
geance due  to  the  villain.  Solomon 
checked  their  ardour,  declaring  that 
only  nine  should  undertake  the 
task ;  and  to  avoid  giving  any  of- 
fence, ordered  all  their  names  to  be 
put  into  an  urn,  and  that  the  flrst 
nine  that  should  be  drawn,  should  be 
persons  to  accompany  the  stranger. 
The  lot  fell  on  J.-.,  St.-.,  and  seven 
others. 

They  set  out  at  break  of  day,  and 
were  conducted  by  the  stranger 
through  a  dreary  country.  While 
on  the  way,  J.*,  found  means  to  learn 
from  the  stranger,  that  the  villain 
they  were  in  quest  of,  had  hid  him- 
self in  some  cavern  among  the  rocks, 
which  were  not  far  from  the  place 
where  they  then  were,  and  that  his 


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174  MASONIC. 

accomplices  had  fled  towards  the 
province  of  king  Maacah.  J.*,  soon 
found  the  cavern,  an<f  entered  it 
alone,  when,  by  the  light  of  a  lamp, 
he  found  the  villain  asleep.  En- 
flamed  at  the  sight,  and  actuated  by 
an  impatient  zeal,  he  immediately 
stabbed  him  with  a  poniard,  first  in 
his  head,  and  then  in  his  heart ;  he 
had  only  time  to  cry,  vengeance  is 
taken^  and  expired.  J.*,  being  ex- 
tremely fatigued,  refreshed  himself 
at  a  sprinff  which  he  (bund  in  the 
cave,  uid  slept  until  he  was  awaken- 
ed by  the  other  8,  who  arrived  short- 
ly auer.  J.',  then  severed  the  head 
^om  the  body,  and  taking  it  in  one 
hand,  and  the  poniard  in  the  other, 
in  this  manner  returned  with  his 
companions  to  Jerusalem.  When 
theyiippeared  before  Solomon,  who 
reproved  J.*,  lor  having  put  it  out  of 
his  power  to  punish  die  villain  in  a 
public  manner,  as  a  warning  to  the 
rest  of  the  workmen  to  be  faithful 
to  their  trust ;  but  by  proper  inter- 
cession, he  was  again  reconciled. 

J.*,  became  highly  favoured  of 
Solomon,  who  conferred  on  him 
and  his  8  companions,  the  title  of 
<' Elected  Knighu.'' 

Emblems,  &c. 

A  dog,  an  emblem  of  sagacity; 
a  lamp;  aponiard^  a  spring,  and 
a  head  just  severed  from  the  body. 

Closed  as  opened. 


Vn.  Master  Elect  op  Fifteen. 

This  lodge  represents  Solomon's 
apartment,  and  is  to  be  decorated  in 
the  same  manner  as  that  of  the  nine 
elect. 

There  are  two  wardens,  and  the 
senior  is  called  inspector. 

Tliis  lodge  should  consist  of  only 
fifteen  members.  Should  there  he 
more  at  the  lime  of  reception,  they 
must  attend  in  the  anti-chamber. 

The  apron  peculiar  to  this  de- 
gree, is  white,  bordered  with  black  : 
on  the  flap  may  be  pamted  8  heads, 
or  spikes  m  the  form  of  a  triangle. 


The  jewel  is  the  tame  as  that  of  the 
nine  elect,  only  on  that  part  o€  the 
black  rilAx>n  which  crosses  the 
breast,  there  should  be  the  same  de- 
vice as  on  the  flap  of  the  apron. 
Opened  by  3  times  5. 

The  following  is  part  of  the  histo- 
ry appertaining  to  this  degree : 

Not  long  aAer  the  execution  of 
the  traitor  spoken  of  in  the  preced- 
ing degree  of  tl.  K.,  a  inend  of 
Solomon's,  in  the  jHPOvince  of  kii^ 
Maacah,  which  was  tributary  to  him, 
caused  diligent  enquiry  la  be  made, 
if  any  person  had  lately  taken  shel- 
ter in  those  parts,  who  might  be  sup- 
posed to  have  fl«d  from  Jerusalem  ; 
and  published,  at  the  same  time,  a 
particular  description  of  the  traitors 
who  had  made  their  escape  Shortly 
after  he  received  information  that 
several  persons  answering  his  de- 
scription had  lately  arrived  there, 
and  believing  themselves  perfect^ 
secure,  had  begun  to  work  m  a 
quarry. 

As  soon  as  Solomon  was  made 
acquainted  with  thb  circumstance, 
he  wrote  to  king  Maacah  to  assist 
him  in  apprehending  them,  and  to 
cause  them  to  be  delivered  to  per- 
sons that  he  should  appoint  to  se- 
cure them,  and  have  them  brought 
to  Jerusalem,  to  receive  the  punish- 
ment due  to  their  crimes. 

Solomon  then  elected  fiAeen 
masters,  in  whom  he  could  place  the 
highest  confidence,  and  among 
whom  were  those  who  had  been  in 
the  cavern,  sent  them  in  quest  of  the 
villains,  and  gave  them  an  escort  dT 
troops.  After  some  time  spent  in 
the  search,  they  were  discovered 
cutting  stone  in  the  quarry.  They 
were  immediately  seised,  carried  to 
Jerusalem  and  imprisoned,  and  the 
next  morning  punished  in  an  exem- 
plary manner.  ♦♦•••••». 

Three  spikes  placed  in  the  form 
of  a  triangle,  is  the  only  emblem 
peculiar  to  tins  degree. 

Closed  as  opened. 


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Mil.   Illustrious  Knight 
Elected. 

This  lodge  is  called  a  grand  chap- 
ter, and  must  be  illuminated  by  12 
lights. 

Solomon  presides,  and  is,  of 
course,  to  beiecorated  with  a  scep- 
tre. Tke  other  officers  are  a  grand 
inspector,  and  a  grand  master  of  cer- 
emonies. 
The  jewel  of  this  degree  is  a  sword, 
mtended  to  represent  a  sword  of 
justice,  hung  to  a  large  black  ribbon. 
On  the  part  crossing  the  breast, 
there  must  be  painted  an  enflamed 
heart ;  this  should  also  be  painted 
on  the  flap  of  the  apron. 

Opened  by  12. 

This  degree  Is  shorter  than  any 
of  the  preceding.  It  was  instituted 
as  a  reward  for  the  zeal  and  integri- 
ty of  the  masters  elect  of  fifteen 
Solomon  choose  by  ballot  twelve  of 
the  fifteen  to  constitute  a  grand 
chapter  of  illustrious  knights,  and 
gave  there  command  over  Uie  twelve 
tribes.  He  expressed  a  peculiar  re- 
gard for  this  order,  and  showed  them 
the  precious  things  of  the  taberna- 
cle. 

The  only  emblem  of  this  degree 
b  an  enfiamed  heart. 

Closed  as  opened. 

IX.  Grand  Master  Architect. 

This  chapter  should  be  painted 
white,  with  red  flames,  by  which  is 
signified  that  purity  of  heart,  and 
that  seal  which  should  characterize 
every  grand  master  architect.  It 
should  also  contain  a  delineation  of 
the  difierent  orders  of  architecture, 
and  a  representation  of  the  north 
star,  with  seven  small  stars  around 
itj  which  signify,  that  as  the  north 
star  is  a  guide  to  mariners,  so  ought 
virtue  to  be  a  g^ide  to  every  grand 
master  architect.  The  jewel  of  this 
degree  is  a  gold  medal,  with  5  or- 
ders of  architecture  engraved  on  both' 
sides.  It  is  suspended  by  a  broad 
dark  stone-coloured  ribbon,   worn 


MASONIC.  175 

from  the  left  shoulder  to  the  #ight 
hip. 

Every  grand  master  architect 
should  be  furnished  with  a  case  of 
mathematical  instruments. 

Opened  by  1  and  2. 

The  candidate,  after  his  introduc-. 
tioD,  is  thus  addressed  : 

"  Brother, 

"  I  have  elevated  you  to  this 
degree  from  an  expectation  that  you 
will  so  apply  yourself  to  geometry, 
to  which  you  are  now  devoted,  as 
will  procure  you  knowledge  suffi- 
cient to  take  away  the  veil  firom  be- 
fore your  eyes,  which  yet  remains 
there,  and  enable  you  to  arrive  at 
the  perfect  and  sublime  degree." 

This  degree  was  established  witfi 
a  view  of  forming  a  school.of  archi- 
tecture, for  the  mstruction  of  the 
bre^ren  employed  in  the  temple, 
and  animating  them  to  arrive  Atper- 
fection  in  the  royal  art.  Solomoii 
was  a  prince  equally  famed  for  his 
justice,  as  for  his  wisdom  and  fore- 
sight ;  he  was,  therefore,  desirous  of 
rewarding  the  talents  and  virtues  of 
the  faithful,  in  order  to  make  them 
perfect,  and  fit  to  apjfNroach  the 
throne  of  the  Grand  Architect  of  the 
universe.  He  accordingly  cast  his 
eyes  upon  the  chiefs  of  tne  12  tribes, 
as  persons  extremely  proper  to  fiilfil 
the  promise  made  to  some  or  the 
ancient  patriarchs,  that  with  great 
zeal,  in  fuhiess  of  time,  the  bowels 
of  the  earth  should  be  penetrated. 

A  large  star,  encircled  by  7  small 
stars,  and  the  several  mathematical 
instruments,  are  emblems  peculiar 
to  this  degree. 

Closed  as  opened. 

From  the  Masonic  Casket. 

Enter  the  door  of  masonry,  and 
you  will  there  find  an  order,  whose 
object  it  is  to  curb  hiteniperate  pas- 
sions, to  restrain  the  spirit  of  ambi^r 
tion,  and  to  teach  charity  and  for- 
bearance to  individuak,  justice  and 
integrity  to  govem«enis,  humanity 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


176 

and  benevolence  to  nations.  To 
banish  from  the  world  every  source 
of  enmity  and  hostility,  and  to  intro- 
duce those  social  feelings  on  which 
depend,  in  a  high  degree,  the  peace 
and  order  of  society.  If  these  ob- 
jects arfe  of  importance  to  the  world, 
then  is  masonry  also  important. 


On  the  27th  of  December  last, 
being  the  anniversary  of  St.  John 
the  Evangelist,  the  following  bro- 
thers were  installed  as  officers  of 
American  Union  Lodge,  No.  1, 
at  Marietta,  Ohio,  for  the  present 
year: 

John  Cotton,  worshipful  master. 

William  A.  Whittlesey,  senior 
warden. 

James  Dunn,  junior  warden. 

Robert  Crawford,  secretary. 

James  M.  Booth,  treasurer. 

John  Cunningham,  senior  dea- 
con. 

Nathaniel  Bishop,  junior  deacon. 

Robert  MKIIabe,  steward  and  tiler. 

At  the  annual  communication  of 
American  Union  Chapter,  No.  1, 
held  at  Marietta,  Ohio,  in  Novem- 
ber last,  the  following  companions 
were  elected  to  office  : 

John  Cotton,  M.  £.  high  priest. 

Rev.  James  M^Aboy,  E.  king. 

Billy  Todd,  E.  scribe. 

Simeon  De  Witt  Drown,  captain 
9f  the  host. 

James  Dunn,  principal  sojourner. 

William  A.  Whittlesey,  royal  arch 
captain. 

Robert  Crawford,  secretary. 

Weston  Thomas,  treasurer* 

Ai\j]rew  Cunningham,  third  grand 
master. 

Robert  Crawford,  second  grand 
master. 


Cunpingham,    first  grand 
P.  Fogg,  steward  and 


MISCELLANEOUS. 

John 
master. 

Thomas 
tiler. 

S.  D.  W.  Drown,  J.  Dunn,  J. 
Cotton,  Billy  Todd,  and  W.  A. 
Whittlesey,  standing  committee. 

Companions  Jonas  Liverniare, 
and  James  M^CuHough,  and  brothers 
Jacob  Ulraer,  and  Phillip  Cunning* 
ham,  died  last  summer  during  tbe 
tlien  prevailing  epidemic  in  the  vi- 
cinity of  Marietta,  Ohio.  Due  re- 
spect was  paid  to  their  raemoiyyand 
an  able  discourse  delivered  on  die 
occasion,  by  the  reverend  compan- 
ion James  M'Aboy. 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


A  FRAGMENT. 


We  were  at  Milan,  where  my  &• 
ther  happened  to  have  an  Italian 
friend,  to  whom  he  had  been  of 
some  service  m  England.  The  count, 
for  he  was  of  quality,  was  solicttous 
to  return  the  obligation,  by  a  parti- 
cular attention  to  his  son  -,  we  ^ved 
in  his  palace,  visited  with  his  femilf  , 
were  caressed  by  his  friei^ds,  and  I 
began  to  be  so  well  pleased  with  my 
entertainment,  that  I  tfaoogbt  of 
England  as  of  some  foreign  oountiy* 

The  count  had  a  son  not  modi 
older  than  myself.  At  that  ager  a 
friend  is  an  easy  acquisition :  we 
were  friends  the  first  night  of  oor 
acquaintance. 

He  introduced  me  into  the  coifr 
pany  of  a  set  of  young  gentlemel^ 
whose  fortunes  gave  them  the  coOh 
mand  of  pleasure,  and  whose  tocS^ 
nation  incited  them  to  the  pordMe* 
Afler  having  spent  some  j«^(St 
evenings  in  then*  society,  it  toMMjie 
a  sort  of  habit  which  Icouldtiot  Adfei 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


without  uneasiness;  rfnd  our  meet- 
ings, which  before  were  frequent, 
were  now  stated  and  regular. 

Sometimes  in  the  pauses  of  our 
mirth,  gaming  was  introduced  as  an 
amusement :  it  was  an  art  in  which 
J  was  a  novice :  I  received  instruc- 
ttoos,  as  other  novices  do,  by  losing 
pretty  largely  to  my  teachers.  Nor 
was  this  the  only  evil  which  Mount- 
ibrd  foresaw  would  arise  from  the 
connection  I  had  formed;  but  a  lec- 
ture of  sour  injunctions  was  not  his 
method  of  reclaiming.  He  some- 
times asked  me  questions  about  the 
company ;  but  they  were  such  as  the 
curiosity  of  any  hidiflerent  man 
might  have  prompted:  I  told  him 
of  their  wit,  their  eloquence,  their 
warmth  of  friendship,  and  tlieir  sen-^ 
sibility  of  heart:  And  their  honour, 
said  I,  laying  my  hand  on  my 
breast,  is  unquestionable.  Mount- 
ford  seemed  to  rejoice  at  my  good 
fortune,  and  begged  that  I  would  in- 
troduce him  to  their  acquaintance. 
At  the  next  meeting  I  introduced 
him  accordingly. 

The  conversation  was  as  anima- 
ted as  usual:  they  displayed  all 
that  sprightlincss  and  good  humour 
which  my  praise  had  led  IMoumford 
to  expect;  /subjects  too  of  sentiment 
occurred,  and  their  speeches,  pai'tic- 
ularly  those  of  our  friend,  the  son 
of  count  Respino,  glowed  with  the 
warmth  of  honour,  and  softened  into 
the  tenderness  of  feeling.  Mount- 
ibrd  was  charmed  with  liis  compan- 
ions; when  we  parted,  he  made  the 
highest  eulogiums  upon  them :  when 
shall  we  see  them  again?  said  he. 
I  was  delighted  with  the  demand, 
and  promised  to  re-conduct  him  on 
the  morrow. 

In  going  to  their  place  of  rendez- 
vous, be  took  me  a  little  out  of  the 
road,  to  see,  as  he  told  me,  the  per- 
formances of  a  young  statuar>'. 
When  we  were  near  the  house  in 
which  Mountford  said  he  lived,  a 
.  boy  of  about  seven  years  old  crossed 
as  in  the  street.     At  sight  of  Mount- 

voL.  n.  23 


i 


MISCELLANEOUS.  1?/ 

ford  he  stopped,  and  gi'asping  his 
hand,  "My  dearest  sir,''  said  he, 
"my  father  is  likely  to  do  well;  he 
win  live  to  pray  for  you,  and  to 
bless  you  :  yes,  he  will  bless  you, 
though  you  are  an  Englishman, 
and  some  other  hard  word  that  the 
monk  talked  of  this  morning,  which 
I  have  forgot,  but  it  meant  you 
should  not  go  to  Heaven ;  but  he 
shall  go  to  Heaven,  said  I,  for  he  has 
saved  my  father;  come  and  see  him, 
sir,  that  we  may  be  happy."  "  My 
dear,  I  am  engaged  at  present  with 
this  gentleman.''  "But  he  shall 
come  along  with  you :  he  is  an  En- 
glishman too,  1  fancy:  he  shall 
come  and  learn  how  an  Englishnnin 
may  go  to  Heaven."  Mountford 
smiled,  and  we  followed  the  boy 
together. 

After  crossing  the  next  street,  we 
arrived  at  the  gate  of  a  prison.  I 
seemed  surprised  at  the  sight;  our 
little  conductor  observed  it.  "  Are 
you  afraid,  sir,"  said  he;  "I  was 
afraid  once  too,  but  my  father  and 
mother  are  here,  and  I  am  never 
afraid  when  I  am  with  them.  He 
took  my  hand,  and  led  me  through 
a  dark  passage  that  fronted  the 
gate.  When  we  came  to  a  little 
door  at  tlie  end,  he  tapped :  a  boy 
still  younger  than  himself,  opened 
it  to  receive  us.  Mountford  entered 
with  a  look  in  which  was  pictured 
the  benign  assurance  of  a  superior 
being.  I  followed  in  silence  and 
amazement. 

On  something  like  a  bed,  lay  a 
man,  with  a  face  seemingljr  emacia- 
ted with  sickness,  and  a  look  of  pa- 
tient dejection;  a  bundle  of  dirty 
shreds  served  him  for  a  pillow,  but 
he  had  better  support — the  aim  of 
a  fem*\le  who  kneeled  beside  liim, 
beautiful  as  an  angel,  but  with  a  fa- 
ding languor  in  her  countenance, 
the  still  life  of  melancholy,  that 
seemed  to  borrow  its  shade  from  the 
object  on  which  he  gazed.  There 
was  a  tear  in  her  eye ! — the  sick  man 
kissed  it  oft'  in  its  bud,  smiling 
through  the  dimness  of  his  own  ' 


178 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


When  she  saw  Mountford  she 
crawled  forward  on  the  ground,  and 
clasped  his  knees;  he  raised  her 
from  the  floor;  she  threw  her  arms 
round  his  neck,  and  sobbed  out  a 
speech  of  thankfulness,  eloquent 
beyond  the  power  of  language. 

Compose  yourself,  my  love,  said 
theman.on  thebed;  but  he,  whose 
goodness  has  catised  that  emotion, 
will  pardon  its  eflects.     How  is  this, 
Mountford  ?  said  I ;  what  do  I  see  ? 
what  must  I  do  ?     You  see,  replied 
the  stranger,  a  wretch,  sunk  in  pov- 
erty, starving  in  prison,  stretched  on 
a  sick  bed  !  but  that  is  httle  :  there 
arc  his  wife  and  children,  wanting 
the  bread  which  he  has  not  to  give 
them !     Yet  you  cannot  easily  ima- 
gine the  conscious  serenity  of  his 
muid  ;  in  the  gripe  of  affliction,  his 
hemt  swells  with  the  pride  of  virtue ! 
it  can  even  look  down  uilh  pity  on 
the  man  whose  cruelty  has  wrung  it 
almost  to  bursting.     You  are,  I  fan- 
cy, a  friend  of  Mr.  Mountford's 
come  nearer  and  FU  tell  you ;  for, 
short  as  my  story  is,  I  can  hardly 
command  breath  enough  for  a  reci- 
tal.    The  son  of  count  Rcspino  (I 
started  as  if  I  had  trod  on  a  viper) 
has  long  had  h  criniinal  passion  for 
my  wife;    this  her    prudence  had 
concealed  from    me;    but  he  had 
lately  the  boldness  to  declare  it  to 
myself.     He  promised  me  aHluence 
in  exchange  lor  lionour;  and  threat^ 
ened  misery,  as  its  attendant,  if  I 
kept  it.     I  treated  him  with  the  con- 
tempt he  deserved  :  the  consequence 


suit,  when  not  yet  recovered  frooi 
the  wounds  I  had  received ;  the 
dear  woman  and  these  two  littie 
boys  followed  me,  that  we  nain^ 
starve  together  ;  but  Providence  ■► 
terposed,  and  sent  Mr.  MountfodL 
to  onr  support :  he  has  relieved  my 
family  from  the  gna wings  of  lumger, 
and  rescued  me  from  death,  to  which 
a  fever,  consequent  on  my  wounds^ 

I  and  increased  by  tlie  want  of  evcrjf 
necessary,  had  almost  reduced  roe. 
Inhuman  villain !    I  exclaimed, 
lifling  up  my  eyes  to  Heaven.    Inr 
human  indeed  !  said  the  lovely  wo- 
man who  stood  at  my  side  :     Alas  ! 
sir,    what  had  we  done  to  offend 
him?    what  had  these    little  ones 
done,  that  they  should  perish  in  the 
toils  of  his  vengeance  ?     I  reached 
ka  pen  which  stood  in  the  ink-stand* 
dish  at  the  bed-side.     May  I  ask  the 
amoimt  of  the  sum  for  which  you 
are  imprisoned  ?      I  was  able,  he 
replied,  to  pay  all  but  500  crowns- 
I  wrote  a  draught  on  the  banker 
wiili  whom  I  had  a  credit  from  nxf 
father  for  2500,  and  presenting  it  to 
the  stranger^s  wife,  you  will  receive^ 
madam,  on  presenting  this  note,  a 
sum  more  than  sufficient  (6c  your 
husband's  discbarge :  the  remsandcr 
I  leave  for  his  industry  to  improve. 
I  would  have  left  the  room  :  C!^:kof 
them  laid  hold  of  one  of  my  hands; 
the  children  clung  to  my  coal* — 
Oh!  Mr.  Harley,  methmks  I  fc^ 
their  gentle  violence    at  this  mo- 
ment ;  it  beats  here  witli  deHgfat  in- 


was,  that  he  hired  a  couple  of  bra- 
voes,  (foY  I  am  persuaded  they  act- 
ed under  his  direction)  who  attempt* 
ed  to  assassinate  me  in  the  street ; 
but  I  made  such  a  defence  as  obli- 
ged them  to  fly,  after  giving  me  two 
or  three  stabs,  none  of  which  how- 
ever were  mcfftal.  But  his  revenge 
was  not  thus  to  be  disappointed  :  in 
the  httle  dealings  of  my  trade  I  had 
contracted  some  debts,  of  which  he 
had  made  himself  master  for  tny 
turn ;  I  was  confined  hece  at  his 


expressible  !  Stay,  sir,  said  he^  I 
do  not  mean  attempting  to  thank 
you  ;  (he  took  a  po€ket4x)Qk  from 
under  his  pillow^  let  me  but  kno« 
what  name  1  snail  place  here  next 
to  Mr.  Mountford  ?  Sedle}*— ^ 
wrote  it  dowu;  an  Englishman  too, 
I  presume.  He  shall  go  to  Heaven 
notwitlistandmg,  said  the  boy,  who 
had  been  our  guide.  It  began  to  be 
too  much  for  me;  I  squeezed  his 
hand  that  was  clasped  in  mine;  his 
wife's  I  pressed  to  my  lipa^  gad 
burst  irom  the  place  to  give  v«m  to 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


the  feelings  that  laboured  within  mcl 
Oh !  Mountfordy  said  I,  when  he 
had  overtaken  me  at  the  dbor:  it  is 
time,  replied  he,  that  we  should  think 
of  our  appointment;  young  Respi-* 
no  and  his  friends  are  waiting  us. 
I>amn  him,  damn  htm !  said  I,  let 
OS  leave  Milan  instantly ;  but  soft ; 
I  will  be  calm;  Mountford,  your 
pencil.    I  wrote  on  a  slip  of  paper — 

*ro  Signor  Respino^ 

When  you  receive  this  I  am  at  a 
distance  from  Milan.  Accept  of  my 
thanks  for  the  civilities  I  have  re- 
ceived from  you  and  your  family. 
As  to  the  friendship  with  which  you 
were  pleased  to  honour  me,  the  pri- 
son, which  I  have  just  left,  has  exhi- 
bited a  scene  to  cancel  it  forever. 
You  may  possibly  be  merry  witl^ 
your  companions  at  my  weakness, 
as  I  suppose  you.  will  term  it,  I 
give  you  leave  for  derision;  you 
may  effect  a  triumph;  I  shall  feel  it. 
Edward  Sedlev. 

You  may  send  this  if  you  will, 
said  Mountford,  coolly;  but  still  Res- 
pino  is  A  MAN  OF  hokour;  the  world 
will  continue  to  call  him  so.  It  is 
probable,  I  answered,  they  may ;  I 
envy  not  the  appellation.  If  this  is 
the  world's  honour;  if  these  men 
are  the  guides  of  its  manners — Tut ! 
said  Mountford,  doyoueat  macaro* 


LIFE  OF  ARISTOTLE. 

(Concluded  from  page  149.^ 

This  same  philosopher  insists,  that 
for  the  formation  of  any  natural  bo- 
dy, it  is  absolutely  necessary  it 
should  have  another  principle,  be- 
sides tliat  first  matter,  which  he  calls 
lbrm«  Some,  indeed,  imagine,  that 
thereby  he  means  nothing  more  than 
the  disposition  of  its  various  parts; 
others,  however,  are  of  opinion,  that 
he  means  a  substantm!  entity,  really 
^id  in  all  respects  distinct  from  that 
matter  5  and  that  when  any  com,  for 


MISCELLANEOUS.  17§ 

mstance,  is  ground  at  the  mill,  it  as- 
sumes a  new  substantial  form,  where^ 
by  the  corn  is  converted  into  flour  5 
and  that  afterwards,  when  water  is 
mingled  with  the  flour,  the  whole  is 
metamorphosed,  as  it  were,  and  as- 
sumes directly  another  substantial 
form,  and  is  then  no  longer  flour, 
but  paste;  and  again,  when  that 
paste  is  thrown  into  the  oven,  and 
duly  baked,  it  becomes  at  once  a 
new  substantial  form;  and  such 
baked  paste,  in  a  word,  is  metamor- 
phosed into  bread. 

These  various  sorts  of  substantial 
forms  are  admitted,  indeed,  by  some^ 
in  all  other  natural  bodies ;  thus,  for 
instance,  in  a  horse,  besides  his 
bones,  his  flesh,  his  nerves,  his 
brains,  his  blood,  which,  by  the  cir- 
culation thereof  through  his  veins 
and  arteries,  nourishes  and  supports 
each  individual  part  of  him;  and  be- 
sides all  these,  the  animal  spirits, 
which  arc  the  principles  and  springs 
of  all  motions;  there  are  some  phi- 
losophers, I  say,  maintain,  with  him, 
that  there  is  a  substantial  form,  ex- 
clusive of  all  the  before-mentioned 
articles,  which  they  admit  to  be  the 
soul  of  the  horse;  they  strenuously 
maintain,  that  tliis  imaginary  form 
is  not  drawn  or  extracted  from  the 
matter  itself,  but  the  energy  or  pow- 
er of  that  matter :  in  a  word,  tliey 
peremptorily  insist,  that  it  is  an  en- 
tity, really  and  truly  distinct  from 
the  matter,  whereof  it  is  not  any  in« 
dividual  part,  or,  even  in  the  least, 
any  modiflcation  of  it  whatsoever. 

Aristotle  still  further  maintains, 
that  all  terrestrial  bodies  aie  com- 
posed of  the  four  elements :  that  is  to 
say,  of  earth,  water,  air,  and  fire; 
that  the  two  first,  being  ponderous^ 
naturally  incline  to  the  centre  of  the 
world;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
two  last,  being  light,  keep  at  as 
great  a  distance  from  it  as  they  pos- 
sibly can. 

Besides  these  four  elements,  how- 
ever, he  admits  of  a  fifth,  of  which  all 
celestial  bodies  ^ere  composed,  and 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


]gO  MISCBLLANEOVS 

the  motion  whertof  was  always  cir- 
cular. He  conceired,  that  above  the 
air,  though  under  the  concavity  of  the 
moon,  there  was  a  globe  of  fire,  from 
whence  all  flames  had  their  source, 
and  into  which  they  were  resolved,  as 
brooks  and  rivers  naturally  discharge 
their  waters  into  the  sea. 

Aristotle  farther  maintained,  that 
matter  was  divisible  ad  infinitum; 
that  the  universe  was  perfecily  full, 
and  that  there  was  no  such  thing  as  a 
vacuum  in  all  nature;  that  the  world 
was  eternal;  that  the  sun  had  rolled 
round  its  axis  from  eternity,  as  it  does 
bX  present,  and  that  such  rotation 
will  never  cease ;  that  the  human 
species  likewise  were  subsisting  be- 
fore the  commencement  of  time ;  that 
bad  there  been  such  a  thing  in  fact  as 
a  first  parent,  he  must  have  been  born 
without  either  father  or  mother,  which 
i<?  a  direct  contrai'iction,  and  perfect- 
ly absurd.  In  the  same  manner  he 
argues  in  regard  to  the  birds  of  the 
air.  It  is  downright  ridiculous,  says 
he,  to  imagine  that  there  was  ever 
one  particular  egg^  from  whence  the 
whole  species  of  birds  received  their 
being;  or  tliat  there  ever  was  one 
particular  bird  that  laid  the  first  egg, 
because  the  bird  proceeds  from  an 
egg ;  but  that  egg  came  from  a  bird, 
and  that  from  another  preceding,  and 
so  back>vards  ad  infinitum.  The 
same  argument  is  fanner  made  use  of 
by  him  in  regard  to  all  the  other  va- 
rious species  of  animals  throughout 
the  universe. 

He  maintains,  moreover,  that  the 
heavens  are  incorruptible ;  and  that 
notwithstanding  all  sublunary  beings 
are  liable  to  corruption,  yet  the'parts 
whereof  they  are  composed  will 
never  decay,  that  they  only  change 
their  position ;  that  from  the  destruc- 
tion of  one,  another  springs  up  to 
supply  its  place,  and  by  that  means 
the  whole  mass  of  the  world  will  con 
tinue  forever  complete.  To  this  he 
adds,  that  the  earth  is  at  the  world's 
centre;  and  that  the  first  and  su- 
preme Being  causes  the  heavens  to 


roll  round  that  earth  by  sach  certain 
beings  or  intelligences  as  are  forever 
employed  in  superintending  tliose 
particular  rotations. 

Aristotle  insists,  that  all  that  vast 
expanse,  which  at  this  day  is  covers 
ed  over  with  the  waters  of  the  ocean, 
was  formerly  dry  land ;  and  faitfaer, 
that  what  now  appears  to  be  diy 
land,  shall,  in  the  process  of  time,  be 
covered  with  the  waters  last  mentiQii- 
ed.     The  reason  that  he  gives  for 
the  support  of  this  assertion  is  this  : 
Tliat  the  rivers  and  impetuous  tor- 
rents are  continually  carrying  sand 
and  earth  along  with  their  respec- 
tive  currents;    by    virtue  whereof 
their  banks  are  gradually  increasing, 
and  the  sea,  though  imperceptibly 
retreating;    insomuch    that,    since 
time  never  ceases,  those  vicissitud® 
bf  earth  into  sea,  and  sea  into  earth 
again,    are  continually   happening 
from  one  age    successively  to  an- 
other without  end.     He  adds,  more- 
over, that  in  divers  places,  remote 
from  the  sea,  and  on  divers  moun- 
tains, the  sea,  having  withdrawn  its 
waters  from  them,  has  left  behind  a 
vast  variety  of  shells ;  and  that  by 
digging  into  the  bowels  of  the  earth, 
the  workmen  have  frequently  fotrnd 
anchors,  and  broken  pieces  of  shif*. 
And  according  to  Ovid,  Pythagon» 
was  of  the  same  opinion. 

Now  Aristotle  insists,  that  these 
alterations  from  s^  to  land,  and 
land  to  sea,  which  are  thus  imper- 
ceptibly made,  during  a  long  pro- 
cess of  time,  are,  in  a  great  mea- 
sure, the  reason  why  the  memory  ai 
things  past  are  so  frequently  erased. 
He  adds,  moreover,  that  other  acci- 
dents sometimes  intervene,  which 
occasion  the  loss  of  the  arts  them- 
selves :  such,  for  instance,  as  pesti- 
lences, wars,  famines,  earthquakes, 
fires,  or,  in  a  word,  such  total  deso- 
lations, as  at  once  extirpate  and  de- 
stroy a  whole  city  or  country,  ex- 
cept some  few  that  escape  by  flight 
into  the  adjacent  deserts,  where  they 
lead  a  savage  life,  and  beget,  in  the 


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MISCELLANEOUS. 


181 


coarse  of  time^  a  new  generation  of 
people,  who  gradually  cultivate 
those  lands  in  which  they  reside,  or 
others,  which  they  casually  dbcover, 
or  revive  those  arts,  which  are  above 
mentioned  to  be  lost ;  and  that  the 
very  selfsame  notions  are  recollect 
*ed  and  renewed  from  one  time  to 
aBother  without  end.  This  is  his 
way  of  arguing  ;  and  by  such  pro- 
positions as  these,  he  maintains,  that 
notwithstanding  those  various  vicis- 
situdes and  revolutions  above  allow- 
ed, yet  tlie  machine  of  the  world 
subsists  without  corruption. 

Aristotle,  indeed,  is  very  curious 
ID  his  researches  after  those  things 
which  are  most  capable  of  rendering 
mankind  happy  in  this  life.  He  re- 
iUtes,  in  the  first  place,  all  such  li- 
bertines as  imagine  that  happiness 
solely  consists  in  sensual  enjoyments. 
He  insists,  that  they  are  not  only  of 
short  duration,  but  soon  create  a  dis- 
gust, enervate  the  body,  and  stupify 
the  brain.  In  the  next  place,  he 
discards  the  notion  of  such  as  are 
ambitious,  and  think  that  happiness 
wholly  consists  in  pomp  and  gran 
'deur,  and  never  scruple  the  practice 
of  the  vilest  and  most  indirect  means 
in  the  attainment  of  any  post  of 
honour  and  advantage. 

He  insists,  that  honour  and  es- 
teem subsist  in  the  person  who  pays 
that  homage;  and  adds,  that  the 
ambitious  man  is  fond  of  being  re- 
spected for  some  particular  virtue, 
which  he  willingly  would  have  tlie 
world  believe  to  be  implanted  in 
him ;  and,  by  consequence,  that 
true  happiness  consists  rather  in  vir- 
tue, than  in  honours  and  prefer- 
ments, which  are  perfectly  extra- 
neous. 

Re  coniUtes,  in  the  last  place,  the 
notion  of  such  as  are  avaricious,  and 
imagine  that  true  happiness  solely 
consists  in  riches.  He  insists,  that 
riches  are  not  to  be  coveted  for  their 
own  sake ;  since  they  only  render 
sich  as  possess  them  and  dread  the 
thought  of  nuking  use  of  tbeoi;  tlie 


most  miserable  wretches  under  the 
sun  :  that  the  only  way  to  make 
them  become  blessings,  is  to  make 
a  generous  nse  of  them,  and  by 
bounty  and  benevolence,  to  relieve 
those  who  are  in  necessity  and  dis- 
tress :  whereas  real  happiness  ought 
to  consist  in  something  truly  sub- 
stantial, and  of  intrinsic  value,  which 
ought  carefully  to  be  hoarded  up, 
and  never  to  be  parted  with. 

In  short,  Aristotle  was  of  opinion, 
that  true  happiness  wholly  consisted 
in  the  most  disinterested  and  impar- 
tial action  of  the  mind,  and  in  tlie 
constant  practice  of  all  social  duties. 
He  insists,  moreover,  that  the  no- 
blest employment  of  the  mind  is  the 
study  of  nature  :  that  is  to  say,  that 
no  time  can  be  spent  more  advanta- 
geously than  in  making  deep  re- 
searches into  all  celestial  and  terres- 
trial bodies,  but  more  particularly 
into  the  existence  of  the  supreme 
Being.     He  observes,  however,  that 
no  person  can  be  said  to  be  perfect- 
ly happy,  without  having  some  com- 
petent portion  of  the  good  things  of 
this  life  ;  for  unless  we  are  so  pos- 
sessed, we  cannot  employ  our  time 
on  any  sublime  speculations,  nor  in 
the  practice  of  any  social  duties. 
As  for  instance,  in  case  we  are  poor 
and  indigent,  we  can  have  no  oppor- 
tunity of  obliging  our  friends;  and 
it  is  doubtless  one  of  the  highest 
pleasures  that  this  life  affords,  to  be 
in  a  capacity  of  doing  good  to  those 
whom  we  sincerely  love  :  And  thus, 
says  he,  true  felicity  consists  in  three 
things:  first,  in  the  faculties  of  the 
mind/  such,  for  instance,  as  wis- 
dom and  prudence;    secondly,  in 
natural  perfection;    such,    for   in- 
stance, as  beauty,*  strength,  health, 
and  the  like;  and  lastly,  in  the  bless- 
ings of  fortune;  such,  for  instance, 
as  riches  and  honours.      It  is  his 
opinion,  that  virtue  alone  is  not  suffi- 
cient to  make  a  man  happy ;  that 
there  is  an  absolute  necessity   for 
mankind  to  be  possessed  in  some  de- 
gree of  th^  blessings  of  life/  and 

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182 


MISCELLANVOUS. 


^at  a  wise  man  must  be  inevitably 
anhappy,  if  he  be  either  in  pain,  or 
in  ^stress.  On  the  other  hand,  he 
assures  us,  that  vice  is  sufficient  oi 
itself  to  make  mankind  thoroughly 
unhappy  ;  that  notwithstanding  we 
roll  in  riches,  and  are  possessed  of 
all  the  blessings  of  life  besides,  yet 
still,  in  case  we  are  vicious,  we  can 
never  be  happy  ;  that  though  the 
wisest  man  in  the  world  was  not  to- 
tally exempt  from  affliction,  yet 
those  misfortunes  were  such  only  as 
were  light  and  trivial;  that  virtues 
and  vices  were  not  inconsistent 
things;  that  the  same  man  might 
possibly  be  very  just  and  honest, 
and  yet  be  a  downright  libertine  in 
his  heart 

He  admitted  of  three  several  de- 
grees of  friendship:  the  first  was 
that  of  consanguinity  ;  the  next  tliat 
of  inclination  ;  and  the  last  that  of 
universal  benevolence. 

He  was  of  opinion,  that  the  study 
of  the  belles  lettres  contributed,  in  a 
great  measure,  towards  the  practice 
of  virtue,  and  assures  us,  moreover, 
that  it  was  the  greatest  consolation 
imaginable  to  all  such  as  were  high- 
ly advanced  in  yeans. 

He  acknowledges  (as  Plato  did 
before  him)  a  supreme  Being,  and 
an  overruling  Providence. 

He  insists,  that  all  our  ideas  pro- 
ceed originally  from  the  senses ; 
that  a  person  bom  blind  could  never 
have  any  adequate  notion  of  co- 
lours ;  nor,  on  the  other  hand,  could 
one  that  had  been  deaf  from  his 
birth,  have  the  least  conception  of 
articulate  sounds. 

In  regard  to  politics,  his  notion 
was,  that  a  monarchical  state  was 
preferable  to  all  others,  because  in 
all  others  there  were  more  persons 
than  one  to  sit  at  the  helm  of  gov- 
ernment; as  an  army  is  more  likely 
to  prove  victorious  when  headed  by 
one  general,  than  if  tfiere  were 
twenty  commanding  officers  iitvest- 
ed  with  equal  power;  so  it  is  in  the 
regulation  ot  a  kingdom.     Whilst 


the  deputies  or  leading  men  in  a  r^ 
public  are  wasting  their  time  in  as- 
semblies and  debates,  the  monarcii 
has  got  possession  of  the  place  he 
aimed  at,  and  carried  his  plan  into 
actual  execution.  The  administra- 
tors, or  heads  of  a  republic,  are  un- 
der little  or  no  concern  for  its  real 
benefit  and  welfare,  in  case  they  can 
but  promote  their  private  interest  by 
its  downfall.  They  soon  grow  jeal- 
ous of  each  other,  from  whence 
arise  animosities  and  divisions,  and 
so,  in  process  of  time,  the  republic 
verv  seldom  fails  of  being  ruined 
and  undone;  whereas  in  a  monar- 
chical  state,  the  prince  has  no  other 
interest  in  view  but  that  of  his  king- 
dom ;  and,  in  consequence,  his  sub- 
jects must  be  a  flourishing  people. 

Aristotle  was  once  asked,  what 
benefit  and  advantage  could  possi- 
bly arise  from  the  practice  of  King. 
Why  this,  replied  he,  He  that  is  ad- 
dicted to  that  mean-spirited  vice 
may  be  assured,  that  no  one  will  be- 
lieve him  whenever  he  speaks  the 
truth. 

Aristotle  being  once  blamed  by  a 
friend  for  bestowing  his  benevolence 
on  an  unworthy  object ;  It  is  not, 
said  he,  because  he  is  that  wkked 
worthless  person  .  as  you  observe, 
that  I  have  pity  and  compassion  oa 
him,,  but  because  he  u  my  fellow 
creature. 

It  was  a  common  saying  of  Aris- 
totle, both  to  his  firiends  and  pupils, 
that  knowledge,  m  regard  to  the 
soul,  was  much  the  same  as  lig^t  is 
to  the  eye;  and  that,  notwith^and- 
ing  its  roots  might  possibly  prove 
somewhat  bitter,  yet  its  delicKMis 
firuits  made  an  ample  compensadoo. 

Sometimes  when  Aristotle  «n 
disgusted  at  the  misconduct  of  the 
Auenians,  he  would  tell  them,  widi 
an  air  of  derision,  that  notwithstaod- 
ing  they  had  a  profusion  of  whc4e- 
some  laws,  as  well  as  of  the  best 
com  ;  yet  they  would  be  bvtsh  of 
the  latter,  without  paying  the  least 
I  veneration  or  respect  to  the  fomMTi 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MISCSLLiiNEOUS. 


183 


keingonce  asked,  Whatthinff  was 
soonest  blotted  out  of  a  man"s  re- 
membrance; he  made  answer,  A 
grateful  acknowledgment  for  favours 
received. 

Another  time,  being  asked  what 
hope  was  :  It  is  the  dream,  said  he, 
of  a  man  that  is  awake. 

Diogenes  made  Aristotle  a  pres- 
ent of  a  fig;  the  latter  plainly  per- 
ceived, that  in  case  he  refused  to  ac- 
cept of  his  favour,  the  former  had 
some  piece  of  raillery  ready  to  throw 
out  upon  the  occasion  :  he  took  the 
fig,  therefore,  and  said,  with  a  smile, 
Now  Diogenes  has  not  only  lost  his 
'  fig,  but  the  use  he  intended  to  make 
of  it. 

He  used  to  say,  That  there  were 
three  articles  absolutely  requisite  for 
all  yoaug  children :  namely,  a  na 
tural  genius,  exercise^  and  disci 
plinc. 

When  any  one  asked  him  what 
difierence  there  was  between  a  wise 
man  and  a  blockhead,  he  would  say. 
That  there  was  no  more  than  be- 
tween the  living  and  the  dead. 

He  would  frequently  say,  That 
knowledge  was  an  ornament  in  pros- 
perity, and  a  great  support  and  re- 
lief under  the  firowns  of  fortune  ; 
that  those  who  bestowed  a  liberal 
education  upon  children,  were  in 
reali^  much  more  their  parents  than 
those  who  begot  them;  since  the 
latter  only  brought  them  into  life, 
buf  the  former  enabled  them  to  pass 
away  that  life  in  a  happy  and  repu- 
table manner. 

That  a  handsome  face  and  a 
graceful  deportment  were  recom 
mendations  infinitely  more  strong, 
than  any  epbtolary  encomiums 
whatsoever. 

Being  asked  what  measures  a  pu- 
pil had  best  take  for  his  most  speedy 
improvement,  he  replied.  He  ought 
always  to  have  his  eye  on  those  who 
were  his  superiors  in  knowledge, 
and  not  on  those  who  knew  less  than 
himself. 

Aristotle  hearing  a  talkative  gen- 


tleman vainly  boast  of  hb  being  a 
freeman  of  a  very  populous  and  trar 
ding  city,  Don't  lay  (said  Aristotle) 
such  a  stress  on  that  article,  but  re- 
flect within  yourself  whether  you  are 
worthy  or  not  of  being  a  meml>er  of 
any  illustrious  country. 

When  Aristotle  reflected  on  the 
life  which  some  certain  peopled  led, 
he  would  frequently  say,  That  there 
were  some  men  who  heaped  up  bags 
upon  bags,  with  as  much  avarice 
and  concern,  as  if  they  thought  they 
should  live  forever;  and  others 
again,  who  were  as  profuse  and  ex- 
travagant, as  if  they  were  well  assu- 
red they  should  die  the  next  day. 

Aristotle  being  asked  what  it  was 
to  have  a  sincere  friend,  he  replied, 
To  have  one  and  tlie  same  soul  in 
two  bodies. 

A  person  asked  him,  how  we 
ought  to  deport  ourselves  towards 
our  friends :  to  which  he  readi^  re- 
plied. Just  the  same  as  we  would 
wiUingly  have  them  behave  towaixls 
us. 

He  would  frequently  cry  out.  Ah  ! 
myfiriends,  there  is  no  suchthmg 
in  the  world  as  sincere  friendship. 

He  was  asked,  why  we  had  more 
affection  for  persons  who  were  hand* 
some,  than  such  as  were  ugly  or  de- 
formed, Friend,  savs  Aristotle,  you 
ask  me  a  very  blind  question. 

When  he  was  once  asked  what 
benefit  and  advantage  he  had  res^ 
ed  from  his  philosophy  :  Why,  re- 
plied he,  a  power  to  do  that  of  my- 
self, wiUiout  any  direction,  which 
some  others  would  never  practise, 
was  it  not  forfear  of  being  subject 
to  some  penal  laws. 

Some  historians  assure  us,  that 
during  hb  residence  at  Athens,  he 
had  an  uninterrupted  and  familiar 
converse  with  a  native  of  Judea,  who 
instructed  him  thoroughly  in  all  the 
intricate  knowledge  of  the  Egyp- 
tian hieroglyphics,  whilst  all  others, 
who  were  his  contemporaries,  were 
obliged  to  travel  to  Eg^pt  itself,  for 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


IS4 


MrSCELLANlCOUS. 


their  improvement  in  those  religioiw 
studies. 

Aristotle,  aAer  lie  had  instructed 
his  pupils  for  tliirteen  years  succes- 
sively in  the  Lyceum,  with  unblem* 
ished  reputation,  was  charged  by 
Earimedon,  one  of  the  priests  of  the 
goddess  Ceres,  as  guilty  of  blasphe- 
mous expressions.  Tlie  recollec- 
tion of  what  treatment  Socrates  had 
hefore  met  with,  terrified  him  to  that 
degree,  that  he  determined  to  leave 
Athens  at  once,  and  to  seek  an  asy- 
lum at  Chaleis,  in  Eubcca,  Some 
say  he  died  with  vexation,  because 
he  found  himselfincapable  of  giving 
a  rational  account  of  the  ebbing  and 
flowing  of  the  sea.  Other  historians 
assure  us,  that  he  threw  himself 
headlong  into  the  sea,  and  said, 
while  h^  was  falling,  O  sea!  bury 
me  in  thy  waves,  since  I  can  never 
comprehend  thy  motions.  Others 
again  insist,  that  he  died  a  natural 
death,  in  the  sixty-^hird  year  of  his 
age,  and  two  years  after  the  death 
of  ilia  once  royal  pupil,  Alexander 
the  Great 

The  natives  of  Siagira  erected 
altars  to  his  memory,  and  paid  him 
the  tribute  of  divine  adoration. 

Aristotle  made  his  will,  and  there- 
by constituted  and  appointed  his 
friend  Antipater  sole  executor. 

He  left  one  son^  named  Nicoma- 
chus,  and  one  daughter,  who  had 
heen  married  for  some  time  to  the 
grandson  of  Demaratus,  the  king  of 
Lacedemon. 


From  the  MUcellaneous  Register. 

EULOGY  ON  THE  FEMALE 
CHARACTER. 

The  female  character  has  often 
been  eulogized  by  men  the  most 
celebrated  for  extensive  acquire- 
roenta,  and  exquisite  taste  ;  but  sel- 
dom, perhaps,  in  modern  times,  in 


tarms  more  correctly  eloqitent,  ihafl 
in  the  following  passage,  which  is* 
extracted  from  a  speech  of  Sir  James 
Mackintosh  on  the  reformation  of 
the  ciiminal  code oi England  : 

"  The  examples  which  havt 
hitlierto  been  afforded  of  refornui- 
tion,  have  chiefly  occurred  in  the 
case  of  female  offenders.  The  at- 
tempt to  produce  that  reformattttB 
is,  perhaps,  the  only  public  s^rviec 
which  females  in  this  country  can 
render  to  the  stnte.  They  are  ena- 
bled to  render  it,  not  by  the  slight- 
est  departure  from  the  delicacy  aal 
modesty  of  their  sex,  but  by  a  mone 
pertinacious  adherence  to  that  iodl 
and  persevering  benevolence  whidt 
is  one  of  the  most  graceful  and  en- 
dearing qualities  of  the  female  cha-^ 
racter.  Sir,  we  have  all  heard  a 
great  deal  of  the  benevdeuce  of  a 
community  of  females  in  certain  Ca- 
tholic countries,  called  by  the  aflfect- 
ing  name  of  "  Sisters  of  Charity.^ — 
It  is  their  task  to  visit  hosphals^  to 
attend  the  sick,  and  to  perform  onier 
ofhces  of  a  charitable  and  benevirfeirt 
nature.  But  those  Catholic  sisferr 
of  charity  are  bound  by  certain  vowf : 
they  are  under  the  controul  of  pe€»» 
liar  religious  observations ;  they  liare 
previously  relinquished  all  duties  of 
social  life.  Our  Protestant  sisters  of 
charity  are  bound  by  no  vows,  tlip 
are  not  under  the  controul  of  any  pe-^ 
culiar  religious  engagements  ;  and  to 
discharging  the  various  denies  of  so- 
cial life,  they  afford  examples  of  all 
the  domestic  virtues,  and  yet  ihey  go 
a  step  further  than  their  illastrioas 
Catholic  models.  Not  content  with 
visiting  hospitals  ;  not  content  with 
administering  to  bodily  disease  md 
infirmity,  we  behold  the  purest  and 
the  most  virtuous  of  their  sex  vohm- 
(arily  enjsraged  in  the  daily  conieai' 
plation  of  depravity  and  wickedness, 
in  their  most  hideous  form  ,*  that  oX 
a  profligate  and  abondoned  woman. 
We  observe  them  coming  in  contact 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


HISCBLLANEOUS*  ,g* 

with  the  lowest  and  vHest  of  their  i  excellent  periodical  work,  published 


^x.  We  see  them  exerting  them-  I 
selves  with  as  much  earnestness  and 
ardour  to  rescue  and  amend,  as  the 
villains  by  whom,  probably,  the  ob- 
jects of  their  generous  compassion, 
have  been  betrayed,  have  manifest- 
ed m  depraving  and  destroying. 
Theu:  exultation  in  saving  is  as 
great  as  that  of  the  man  of  the  world 
in  alluring  to  perdition.  I  am  enti- 
tled to  say  all  this  of  the  incompara- 
ble persons  to  whom  I  allude,  for  I 
have  seen  much  of  them,  when  en- 
gaged in  their  benevolent  occupa- 
tion. I  have  visited  them  in  compa- 
ny  with  females  of  distingui shed  abi- 
lity, of  keen  observation,  and  of  a 
strong  sense  of  the  ridiculous.  By 
those  females  all  their  actions  have 
been  closely  watched  and  remarked, 
and  the  result  has  been,  that  al- 
though prepared  to  witness  benevo- 
lence and  humanity,  they  have  been 
utterly  astonished  at  the  calm  good 
sense,  at  the  repugnance  to  any  ex- 
aggeration, as  their  steady  prudence 
and  caution  invariably  manifested. 
Never  could  my  friends  sufficiently 
express  their  admiration  at  seeing 
those  who  were  engaged  in  a  work 
that  might  naturally  tempt  display, 
conduct  themselves  with  a  modesty 
that  at  once  evinced  unwillingness  to 
receive  even  the  reward  of  approba- 
tkin.  The  energetic  benevolence  of 
theu:  character  was  easily  excited  by 
theexhibition  of  distress,  but  their 
equanimity  was  incapable  of  being 
disturbed  by  vanity.  Sir,  it  was  im- 
possible  to  quit  such  a  scene  without 
a  strong  feelmg  of  self-congratula- 
tion at  the  consciousness  of  belong- 
ing to  the  same  species  as  the  ines- 
timable individuals  engaged  in  it. 
And  i¥hat  were  their  occupations? 
To  teach  religion,  to  teach  moralhy, 
to  teach  obedience  to  the  laws.*' 


ANTIQUITIES. 

The  following  article    is  copied 
from  the  Miscellaneous  Register,  an 
VOL.  n.  24 


in  Geneva,  in  the  state  of  New 
Vork;  and  edited  by  William  Ray, 
esq.  It  will  be  highly  interesting  to 
the  readers  of  the  Masonic  Register 
in  general,  and  we  think  particularly 
so  to  our  masonic  brethren.  We 
much  regret  that  Mr.  Ray  had  it  not 
in  his  power  to  procure  an  engraving 
of  «a/ac  simile  of  the  inscription" 
on  the  stone;  but  we  hope,  hereafter, 
to  be  enabled  to  procure  a  copy  of 
the  original  drawing,  and  present  it 
to  our  readers,  with  further  particu- 
lars,  relative  to  ancient  curiosities  in 
the  western  parts  of  this  state. 
Mr.  Ray, 

I  send  you  some  particulars -rela- 
tive to  the  curious  inscription  recent- 
ly found  upon  a  stone,  in  the  town 
of  Pompey. 

It  was  accidentally  discovered  by 
esquire  Cleaveland,  upon  his  fami, 
but  newly  cleared,  about  four  miles 
south  of  Manlius  Villoge. 

Almost  the  whole  extent  of  the 
south  part  of  the  town  of  Pompey  is 
a  land  of  wonders:  p«s  through  the 
fields  and  woods,  and  you  discover 
every  indication  of  a  once  populous 
and  civilized  country. 

The  sites  of  forts  and  redoubts, 
which  are  known  from  the  evidence 
of  military  skill  which  they  exhibit, 
to  be  the  production,  not  of  our 
Aborigines,  but  of  some  civilized 
people,  meet  you  in  every  direction. 
Almost  ail  the  imj^ements  of  war, 
and  of  tlie  arts  of  life,  such  as  gun- 
barrels  and  locks,  brass  and  iron 
kettles,  axes,  hoes,  blacksmith's 
tools,  beads,  knives,  fishhooks.  Sec. 
&c.,  are  foimd  in  great  plenty,  bodi 
in  the  cultivated  fields  and  woods. 
Under  the  roots  of  large  trees,  which 
have  been  blown  down,  skulls^  and 
other  human  bones,  are  frequently 
discovered. 

1  liave  frequently  visited  that  part 
of  Pompey  whwe   Ujp^  inscription 


^6 


was  found.  The  land  is  extremely 
rich  and  productive,  and  beautifully 
variegated  with  hill  and  dale.  On 
a  prominent  hill  are  yet  plainly  to 
be  seen  the  foundations  of  some  an- 
cient town:  of  this,  the  appearance 
of  coal,  an  evidence  of  the  confla- 
gration which  buried  the  metropolis, 
perhaps,  of  this  Aiiry  land,  in  ruins 
and  oblivion;  the  exact  form  of 
several  blocks  of  buildings,  which  is 
clearly  to  be  seen ;  the  articles  of 
merchandize  which  are  frequently 
dug  up,  &c.,  are  evident  proofs. 

About  a  mile  west  of  the  above 
mentioned  hill,  is  the  appearance  of 
another  town:  between  the  site  of 
which,  and  the  hill,  is  a  deep  ravine 
gradually  descending  into  a  rivulet, 
which  flows  beneath  tlie  brow  of  the 
hilL  Over  this  ravine,  it  is  more 
than  probable,  two  powerfid  armies 
once  fought:  for  it  is  itself  a  vast 
sepulchre,  as  well  as  the  adjacent 
woods.  Here,  for  the  ravine  runs 
through  a  cultivated  field,  are  found 
various  implements  of  war. 

How  exactly  do  these  discoveries 
verify  Virgil's  prophetic  lines, 
Geor.  i,  line  49^^?  of  which  the  fol- 
lowing paragraph  is  a  tmnslation : 

"The  time  will  come  when  the 
Iiusbandman,  tilling  his  land  in  tliis 
countr>',  will  discover  weapons  of 
war,  almost  consumed  by  rust;  or, 
his  heavy  harrows  will  beat  against 
the  empty  hehnels,  and  he  will  be 
astonished  at  the  largeness  of  the 
bones  which  he  shall  dig  from  the 
earth." 

About  a  mile  south  of  this,  was 
found  sometime  in  November  last, 
a  stone,  the  inscription  of  which,  the 
following  is  ^fac  simile: 


MISCELLANEOUS. 

inscription  on  the  stone,  which  I  ex- 
amined  very  carefully,  as  it  respect^ 
every  thing  material ;  but  it  varies, 
as  you  will  observe,  essentially  fron: 
the  description  given  of  it  in  the 
Albany  Register,  of  last  week;  and 
that  the  public  may  have  a  true  far 
simile,  I  wish,  sir,  you  would  cause 
it  to  be  engraved.*  The  stone  it- 
self appealed  to  be  a  primitive  gr»- 
nite,  of  an  irregular  shape,  about  a 
foot  and  a  half  long,  and  a  little 
more  than  a  foot  in  width  and  thick- 
ness. I  suggest  the  following  as  ilie 
interpretation  of  the  inscription.— 
It  was  designed  to  perpetuate  the 
memory  of  some  distinguished  char- 
acter, whose  name  was  De  Lan,  a 
Frenchman,  who  was  killed  in  bat- 
tle, or  died  in  the  reign  of  Pope  Leo 
X,  as  the  little  cross  may  signify  at 
the  end  of  Leo;  in  the  sixth  year  of 
his  Pontificate,  in  the  year  of  our 
Lord,  1^20. 

The  emblematical  figures,  tlie 
tree  of  Paradise  with  the  serpent  en- 
twined around  it,  and  the  sign  of 
the  cross,  are  Christian  emblems, 
and  common  with  the  Roman  Ca- 
tholics, The  figures  at  the  end  of 
the  two  parallel  hues,  whether  math- 
ematicaf  or  masonic,  is  not  kuovn* 
This  is  an  affair  of  great  curiosity, 
and  the  discovery  of  the  date,  as  it 
is  the  first  that  has  ever  appeared 
among  the  antiquities  of  th«  west«ru 
world,  b  very  important.  Perhaps 
in  the  course  of  our  inquiries  ittaay 
give  a  clue  by  which  we  can  unravel 
the  settlement  of  this  country,  by 
whom,    from  whence,    the  causes. 


iCO 


X 


De 


VP'    1320 


o 

^ 


Lan 


X 


This  is  an  exact  traniscript  of  the 


progress,  and  final  dissolutioa,  all 
of  which  have  hitherto  bceuwra|U 
in  the  mantle  of  oblivion. 

ANTIQUITAS. 
*  The  impossibthty  of  procuring 
an  engraver  to  do  the  work,  has  piv- 
vented  our  givhig  vtjiactimile  of  iIk 
inscription.  We  have  given  ns  cot 
rect  a  likeness  as  possible  with  type. 
A  more  correct  draf^  however, 
made  with  a  pen,  may  besoesst 
this  office. — Editor, 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


Feom  Zion's  Herald. 

CHURCH-YARD. 

I  have  often  experienced  a  mel- 
ancholy kind  of  pleasure,  in  wan- 
denng  among  the  tombs  of  a  neigh- 
bouring church-yard,  in  the  mild 
twilight  of  a  summer  evening; 
thither  I  could  repair  from  the  tu- 
mults of  the  city,  and  indulge  in 
contemplations  which  the  busy  du- 
ties of  the  day  forbade  me  to  enjoy. 
In  that  lonely  spot,  there  is  a  peace 
and  quietness  i  the  vanities  and  fri- 
volities of  the  world  are  there  no 
longer  seen;  the  loud  voice  of  au- 
thority, and  pride,  is  unheard,  and 
anabition^  and  crime,  find  there  no 
field  for  oppression. 

To  the  contemplative  mind  how 
many  lessons  of  wisdom  may  be  de- 
rived, by  setting  apart  an  hour  each 
day,  Co  spend  in  such  reflections  as 
must  needs  arise  at  the  sight  of  that 
lonely  spot  whither  we  all  continual- 
ly tend,  and  at  which,  in  a  few  short 
years,  every  one  must  arrive. — 
There  is  no  truth  more  certain  than 
thnt  death  must  happen  to  all ;  and 
yet  how  few  are  there  on  whom  this 
conviction  has  an  influence  suffi- 
cient to  awaken  their  minds  to  re- 
flection, and  induce  them  to  attempt 
the  cultivation  of  those  virtues  God 
has  given  them,  or  eradicate  the  vices 
of  long  and  habitual  indulgence. 

Familiarity  with  scenes  of  death, 
has  served  to  render  the  mind  cal- 
lous to  its  admonitions,  or  if  they  be 
ever  moved  by  a  sight  of  such  daily 
occurrence,  the  impression  is  erased 
by  the  next  object  which  attracts 
their  attention,  and  futurity  is  shut 
out  from  their  thoughts  5  they  cease 
to  look  on  death  with  terror,  while 
they  imagine  themselves  secure 
from  its  power  5  it  neither  awakens 
them  to  reflection,  -nor  stops  them  in 
the  career  of  folly  and  pleasure ; 
each  one  flatters  himself  that  the 
day  appointed  for  Ms  departure,  is 
at  a  remote  distance,  and  though  he 
may  feel  the  necessity  of  some  im- 


MISCELLANEOUS.  l^J 

provement  in  his  conduct,  and  be 
sensible  that  his  conscientre  would 
be  ill  at  ease,  were  his  last  hour  to 
approach  now,  he  constandy  defers 
the  hour  of  amendment  to  some 
distant  period,  and  doubts  not  but 
he  shall  still  have  time  enough  to 
repent  of  all  defecdon  from  duty, 
and  make  suitable  atonement  for 
past  transgressions. 

Why  should  men  thus  put  oflf  to 
a  future  day,  reflections  which  would 
so  operate  to  the  enhancement  of 
their  present  enjoyments  ?  What 
can  be  die  satisfaction,  the  peace 
and  happiness  of  him,  who  spends 
his  days  in  riotous  pleasures,  and  in 
the  pursuit  merely  of  sensual  enjoy- 
ments, compared  with  the  security, 
the  dignity  of  soul,  the  r^finei^, 
elevated  sentiments  of  that  man 
whose  vision,  uncircumscribed  by  the 
narrow  limits  of  fleeting  life,  looks 
into  the  regions  of  futurity,  and  en- 
deavours to  prepare  for  that  solemn 
hour  which  he  Knows  must  one  day 
come :  that  hour  when  the  voice  of 
adulation  shall  no  longer  pour  its 
incense  on  his  mind  5  when  the 
gayeties  of  this  vain  world  shall  sink 
before  him  into  their  original  noth- 
ingness, and  his  soul  find  consola- 
tion only  in  the  hopes  of  a  blessed 
immortality. 

What  a  blow  to  the  pride  and 
vanity  of  man,  is  the  reflection,  that 
death  must  put  a  period  to  all  the 
dignities  and  honours  of  life ;  all  its 
wealth  and  pleasures  :  that  in  a  few 
short  years  he  will  he  summoned  by 
a  voice  no  earthly  power  can  with- 
stand, to  quit  his  darling  treasures, 
his  fondest  schemes  of  ambition,  his 
honours,  titles,  friends,  and  yield 
himself  up  to  the  cold  embraces  of 
the  tomb  ?  Who  can  gaze  witliout 
emotion  on  the  dungeons  of  the 
dead,  contemplate  the  ruins  of  pride 
and  ambidon^  the  mouldering  relics 
of  youth,  beauty,  and  genius  ?  Who 
can  pass  unmoved  the  lowly  bed 
where  lie  the  ashes  of  the  great  and 
good ;  the  spot  wherQ,f  ests  all  that 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


188 


MISCELLAN£OUS. 


is  mortal  of  those  whom  the  world 
has  honoured  with  its  loudest  plau- 
dits as  the  benefactors  of  their  race, 
or  execrated  as  the  destroyers  and 
enemies  of  mankind  ?  Where  is 
the  roseate  hue  that  bloomed  upon 
the  cheek  of  youthful  loveliness  ? 
Where  the  bright  flashes  of  that  eye 
whose  glance  diffused  happiness  and 
light  on  all  around?  Where  the 
stern  features  of  relentless  tyranny 
exulting  in  savage  barbarity  over 
the  ruins  of  its  innocent  victim? 
Alas !  the  proud  distinctions  of  the 
world  are  unknown  in  those  gloomy 
cells,  and  the  poor,  despised  outcasts 
of  society  are  on  a  level  there  with 
the  lordliest  of  their  race. 

It  is  not  possible  that  reflections 
such  as  these,  rendered  habitual  by 
frequent  meditation,  should  be  with- 
out a  salutary  influence  on  the  mind 
and  heart ;  and  he  who  will  but  dis- 
cipline his  thoughts  to  such  an  ob- 
servance of  the  nature  of  bis  being, 
will  not  fail  to  derive  a  heartfelt  sat- 
isfaction from  the  contemplation 
which  will  amply  compensate  for 
ilie  abandonment  of  pleasures,  which 
every  year  he  is  losing  the  capacity 
to  enjoy. 

There  are  times  when  the  mind 
seems  ready  to  expire  beneath  the 
weight  of  sorrows  which  oppress  it; 
when  tlie  gay  visions  of  hope,  and 
the  buoyant,  elastic  cheerfulness  of 
the  heart,  are  forced  to  give  way  to 
the  gloomy  shades  of  melancholy, 
and  the  dull,  heavy,  deadening 
sense  of  wretchedness  and  despair ; 
there  are  times  when  even  the  soul 
moving  accents  of  friendship  and 
sympathy  lose  their  accustomed 
charm  ;  every  avenue  to  joy  seem^ 
closed,  and  while  the  eyes  wander 
vainly  over  the  expanse  of  life,  and 
not  a  star  of  hope  seems  twinkling 
in  the  gloomy  void ;  at  such  a  time, 
where  can  the  mind  look  for  on^  ray 
of  comfort,  where  can  the  despond- 
ing spirit  turn  with  a  hope  for  relief  ? 
The  tinsel  joy  of  a  vain  world  can 
charm  no  more,  and  the  soul  finds 


rest  only  in  the  arms  of  that  religioii. 
whose  precepts  are  divine,  whosi- 
promises  never  can  deceive* 

PHILEMON- 

From  the  MisceUcmeout  Register, 
SOPHIA, 

Or  the    GfBL  OF  THB  PiNE  WoODS. 

CHAPTER  I. 

"  Hollo  the  house !''  said  a  well 
dressed  gentleman,  on  horseback,  as 
he  approached  a  log  hut  in  the  c&t- 
tre  of  a  large  pine  forest.  **  What 
do  you  want,  sir/'  said  a  beantifai 
girl  about  sixteen,  as  s&e  came  to 
the  door,  with  a  countenance  smiling 
and  sweet  as  an  angel.  "  Can  you 
direct  me  the  way  to  tlie  red  mi^ 
madam,  on  Fish-creek?"  "  Yes, 
sir;  but  the  road  is  very  intricate, 
and  much  fartlier  to  go  round  than 
it  is  to  go  through  the  flel^  By 
letting  down  the  bars  yonder,  mid 
keeping  the  foot-path,  imtil  you 
come  to  a  swing  gate,  you  can  short- 
en the  distance  two  miles.  As  it 
would  require  you  to  dismount,  per- 
mit me,  sir,  to  open  the  bar^foryou.^' 
So  saying,  she  laid  by  a  book  which 
she  held  in  her  hand,  put  on  a  neat 
little  sfm-bonnet,  and  tripped  along 
the  weedy  path  before  the  none  and 
his  rider,  writhing  her  elegant  form, 
and  showing  her  white  stockings,  as 
she  kept  li^er  clothes  above  the  wet 
grass,  until  she  laid  her  snowy  hands 
and  arms  upon  the  rails:  letting 
them  gently  fall  one  upon  another, 
she  turned  to  the  strduger,  who  was 
just  spurring  his  horse  to  pass,  when 
he  screamed  out,  ^^  a  rattle-snake!  a 
snake,  miss,  in  the  grass;  sprmg^end 
save  yourself !''  Slie  sprung  with 
the  agility  of  a  frightened  (awn,  at 
the  vei7  instant  the  huge  serpent 
uncoiled  himself  and  made  a  dart  at 
his  fair  prey,  who  cleared  beFM^ 
from  his  fangs,  and  let  fall  her  mst* 
bonnet  upon  the  snake,  as  she  leaped 

rom  his  reach.  The  gentleamo, 
dismounting,  soon  despatched  tbe 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MlSCBLLAMEOtT^. 


189 


Vfily  foe  with  his  loaded  whip,  while 
Sophia  was  so  much  frightened,  that 
she  seemed  unable  to  return  to  her 
hut  without  help.  He  fastened  his 
horse  at  the  bars,  and  offered  her  his 
arm,  which  she  did  not  refuse,  and 
he  led  her  back  to  the  cottage,  pale 
and  trembling. 

Coming  to  the  door,  she  let  go  his 
arm,  dropped  a  courtesy,  and  said, 
"I  am  much  obliged  to  you,  sir,  and 
were  I  not  alone,  I  would  ask  you  to 
walk  in  and  eat  some  of  my  straw- 
berries." "Alone !  miss,  so  much  the 
better;  with  your  permission,  I  will 
walk  in  a  moment,  for  you  appear 
too  feeble,  from  your  fright,  to  be 
left  alone  in  this  dreary  place." — 
"My  father  and  mother  have  gone  to 
the  village  about  two  miles  off,  and 
my  mother  will  soon  be  back" — 
"  and  your  father  too,  will  he  not  ?" 
said  the  stranger  as  he  stepped  in  at 
the  door,  and  took  his  seat  on  a 
bench.  "  My  father,  sir,^  has  been 
unfortunate,  and  I  know  not  that 
he  will  ever  have  his  liberty  again. 
He  was  onco  a  merchant  in  Broad- 
way, New- York,  wheref  was  brought 
up,  until  about  four  years  ago,  when 
my  father  removed  into  tl^  village 
about  two  miles  from  this,  as  I  said 
before,  which  I  suppose  you  passed 
in  coming  here.  He  has  done  every 
thing  in  his  power  to  satisfy  his  cre- 
ditors ;  turned  out  all  his  property, 
not  reserving  even  his'  furniture ; 
but  there  is  one  creditor  who  will 
not  be  appeased,  do  all  he  can,  and 
as  his  demand  amounts  to  more 
than  one-fourth  of  all  the  rest,  he 
has  it  in  his  power  to  keep  my  father 
confined,  they  tell  me,  forever." 

"  Where  does  this  creditor  live  ?" 
"  In  William-street,  New- York." — 
"  What  is  his  name  ?"  "  Jackson." 
"  What  is  your  father's  name  ?" — 
"  Thompson."  The  stranger  blush- 
ed, and  looked  confused.  "  Did 
your  father  ever  apply  to  Mr.  Jack- 
son himself,  and  make  known  his 
situation  ?"  "  No,  sir,  I  believe 
vfltl  but  he  has  an  attorney  who 


lives  about  ftfleen  miles  from  here, 
to  whom  he  sent  his  notes  against 
my  father,  ordering  him,  as  he  says, 
to  show  no  lenity ;  to  him  my  father 
has  applied  repeatedly,  and  left  let- 
ters in  his  charge,  to  Air.  Jackson  ; 
but  all  to  no  purpose.  Mr.  Jackson 
says  he  can  show  no  mercy ;  he  has 
lost  enough  by  such  scoundrels  al- 
ready. Here,  sir,  take  a  few  of 
these  strawberries.  We  used  to  get 
them  of  the  market-women  in  New- 
York  ;  but  here  I  gather  them  my- 
self, and  am  sometimes  obliged  to 
carry  them  to  market  myself,  too, 
to  get  a  few  cents  in  order  to  keep 
my  poor  father  from  starving." — 
Here  she  turned  away  her  head, 
put  her  neat  white  apron  up  to  her 


eyesj 


and  he  saw  her  frame  convul- 


sed as  if  weeping. 

"  Did  you  ever  have  any  acquaint- 
ance with  this  lawyer,  madam  ?'^ — 
"  Yes,  sir,  he  has  been  here  fre- 
quently, on  purpose  to  distress  us 
with  terms  insulting  and  cruel." — 
"  Is  he  a  married  man  ?"  "  No, 
sir ;  and  so  much  the  worse.  A  man 
who  had  a  family  of  his  own  would 
not  be  so  unfeeling  as  he  is  to  the 
man  who  has  one."  "  May  I  ask 
what  his  terms  are  ?"  Sophia 
blushed — hesitated — ^"  Nay,  miss, 
do  not  be  ashamed  to  tell ;  perhaps 
I  can  do  your  father  som^  service 
in  this  busmess."  "  Why,  sir,  there 
is  a  little  property  willed  to  me 
when  I  come  of  age,  or  am  married, 
and  this  hint,  sir,  I  presume  will  be 
sufficient  for  you  to  form  a  conjec- 
ture. He  is  old,  ugly,  and  disgust* 
ing  in  person ;  and  we  removed  into 
this  dreary  place  as  much  to  avoid 
him  as  to  curtail  our  expenses  of 
living.  His  age  might  be  dispen- 
sed with,  for  the  mind  never  grows 
old,  and  the  person  who  possesses 
all  that  is  estimable,  should  never  be 
neglected,  but  rather  more  highly 
esteemed  for  tho  maturitysof  years. 
Bu(  when  insolence  and  vanity  ap- 
pear with  a  gray  head,  they  become 
doubly  ofieiwiv^. 

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150 


MASONIC 


"  How  old  is  your  lawyer,  ma- 
dam ?'*  "  He  b  not  my  lawyer, 
nor  my  lover,  sir ;  but  I  should  take 
him  to  be  about  forty,  and  still  is  a 
dandy;  vain,  illiterate,  excepting 
in  the  technicals  of  his  profession." 
At  this  moment,  the  little  dog  that 
lay  on  the  chips  before  the  door, 
rose  up  and  gave  a  fuint  bark,  and 
then  wriggled  his  tail.  Sophia 
flew  to  the  window  without  glass, 
and  cried,  "  My  mother  is  coming, 
sir,  make  yourself  easy  for  a  few 
moments;''  for  the  stranger  was 
about  departing.  The  mother  short- 
ly entered  the  door,  quite  abashed 
to  see  a  gentleman  there  alone  with 
her  daughter.  She  was  a  woman 
of  about  forty,  elegant  in  her  man- 
ners, though  clad  in  faded  attire, 
yet  neat  and  tasty.  She  passed  the 
compliments  due  to  a  stranger  in 
genteel  habiliments,  took  off  her 
black  bonnet,  seated  herself  in  an 
old  shattered  armed  chuir,  gave  a 
deep  sigh,  and  asked  her  daughter 
for  a  little  cool  water.  Her  coun- 
tenance  was  pale  and  sad,  and  her 
eyes  swollen  with  weeping. 

"  How  is  father  ?"  said  Sophia, 
as  she  handed  her  mother  some  wa- 
ter in  a  white  earthen  bowl,  trem- 
bling as  she  spoke.  "  Your  father, 
my  dear,  is  some  better  5  his  fever 
is  turned,  and  the  doctor  thinks  him 
out  of  danger.*'  "  O  Heavens  !" 
said  Sophia,  and  sunk  on  a  rush 
chair ;  <^  has  he  then  been  sick,  and 
we  did  not  know  it  ?"  "  Your  fa- 
ther has  been  very  sick,  child,  but 
thank  Heaven,  he  is  better — much 
better.  Mr.  Tivingham,  the  law- 
yer, has  been  to  see  him  again,  and 
keeps  urging  his  suit.  I  am  some- 
what fearful  that  he  has  discovered 
the  way  to  our  retreat;  for  they 
told  me  that  he  was  in  town,  and  1 
thought  I  saw  him  looking  afler  me 
as  I  asceotjded  the  hill  and  entered 
the  woods  You  may  think  strange, 
sir,  said  she;  addressing  the  stran-, 
ger— ><but  we  have  been  so  har- 
rassed  5  so  completely  undone,  by 


a  wretch  who  calls  himself  a  gentle- 
man, that  we  fear  him  as  much  as 
we  should  a  highwayman.^'  "  Your 
daughter,  madam,  has  been  telling 
me  something  oi  your  situatioa^" 
said  the  gentleman,  rismg  to  go. 

As  he  stood  by  the  door,  the  <^d 
lady  eyed  hun  quite  cioselVy  and 
thought  she  had  seen  him  before. 
There  was  something  in  his  look,  in 
his  manner,  and  in  all  about  him, 
that  bespoke  the  man  of  benevo- 
lence, and  inspired  confidence. — 
He  was  about  thirty ;  neither  tall 
nor  slender ;  but  he  was  hand- 
some-fuced,  and  when  be  smiled, 
showed  a  beautiful  set  of  white 
even  teeth,  and  two  large  dimples  in 
his  cheeks,  which  were  full,  and 
tinged  a  little  with  the  flush  of 
health.  His  large  black  beard,  and 
dark  eyes,  gave  him  a  look  of  solidi- 
ty, and  manly  strength  of  intellect. 
*  (To  be  continued.) 


MASONIC. 


ANgCDOTEb. 

For  the  Masonic  Registsr. 

Brother  Pratt, 

I  am  pleased  at  seeing  the  brkf 
notice  of  colonel  M*Kinstry  in  yoor 
last  number.  One  such  fact  out- 
weighs an  hundred  speculative  ar- 
guments. And  the  anecdote  was 
worth  relating,  independent  of  its 
relation  to  the  masonic  craft.  I 
have  heard  the  colonel  repeat  it, 
showing  his  honourable  scars,  with 
circumstances  of  additional  intere^^t 
when  coming  from  the  partjr  him- 
self. The  prisoner  was  confined  in 
a  hut  or  house,  where  he  had  be«i 
carried  on  a  gate  or  bam  door,  on 
accou'it  of  his  wounds.  The  pre- 
parations for  his  torture  and  sacrifice 
he  was  ignorant  of,  knowing  only 
that  a  brother  officer  had  suffered, 
and  that  another  victim  to  the  sa* 
vage  vengeance  was  to  be  imroohi* 
ted.  Somewhat  suspicious,  bow- 
ever,  fit)m  their  mysterious  air  and 


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manner  of  the  sf  ntinel  who  guarded 
him,  that  the  dreadful  lot  might 
possihiy  be  his  own.  he  "threw  out 
signals  of  distress"  until  a  British 
subaltern  officer  who  was  accident- 
ally present,  happened  to  recognize 
them.  This  officer,  who  was  a  true 
mason,  instantly  assumed  the  duty 
enjoined  upon  him  by  his  profes- 
sion, and  proceeded  to  take  mea- 
sures for  the  relief  of  his  distressed 
brother.  After  considerable  exer- 
tion, the  only  way  to  save  him  was 
throuffh  Brandt,*  the  Indian  chief, 
who  had  been  initiated  into  the 
secrets  of  masonry,  and  whose  de- 
votion to  its  principles  was  stronger 
than  his  savage  habits,  or  his  thii*st 
for  revenge  :  he  interposed,  and  the 
captain  (as  he  was  at  that  time)  was 
saved  from  the  lingering  torments 
of  a  protracted  burning.  This  was 
transacted  without  his  knowledge. 
But  what  was  his  horror  on  leaving 
his  prison,  to  perceive  only  a  few 
yards  from  its  door,  a  hickory  sap- 
ling, stript  of  its  bark  and  branches, 
to  the  height  of  ten  or  twelve  feet, 
and  a  circular  space  cleared  around 
it,  for  the  scene  of  the  infernal  sa- 
crifice, and  to  be  told  that  the  pre- 
parations were  for  him,  and  that  he 
was  to  have  been  taken  out  the  very 
morning  the  terrible  catastrophe 
was  prevented  by  the  interference 
of  the  so  far  civilized  chief !'' 

Thus  did  free  masonry  effect 
more  than  anv  other  human  consid- 
erations woufd  have  obtained.  All 
ransom  was  refused;    the  rules  of 

•  The  same  Brandt^  after  siiffci'- 
ing  the  riots  and  excesses  of  a  son 
far  mmiy  years  j  at  the  frequent  risk 
ofUfe  in  his  drunken  fts^  at  length, 
whm  in  a  paroxysm  of  intoxication^ 
the  young  man  threatened  and  pur- 
sued his  f/tkherwith  a  gun,  struck 
his  tomaliawk  into  his  Iiearty  ex- 
claiming that  it  was  a  pity  he  had 
not  done  it  six  years  before.  I  have 
seen  him  in  Columbia  county j  where 
he  frequently  came^  and  never  with- 
otit  vCsiting  colonel  M^Kinstry, 


MASONIC  191 

the  savage  warfare  were  inexorable: 
the  temper  of  the  enemy  was  vin- 
dictive, and  sharpened  by  reveng<* 
for  the  losfles  they  had  met  with  j 
and  the  very  deities  of  the  nation 
seemed  to  thirst  for  the  blood  usual- 
ly required  in  similar  occasions  i 
the  war  feast  was  prepared,  and  the 
victim  almost  at  the  stake — when 
the  genius  of  Masonry  interposed 
its  benign  influence,  and  triumphed 
over  niational  custom,  savage  fury, 
and  the  horrors  of  Indian  war ! 

c.  n. 


Foa  THE  Masonic  Register. 

That  masonry  is  an  universal  re- 
ligion, known  to  all  nations  by  th^ 
same  symbols  or  language,  is  a  com- 
mon remark  which  many  of  us  have 
seen  exemplified.  I  have  seen  the 
Turko**  Algerine  known,  protected, 
and  escorted  through  our  country  as 
brethren.  I  have  seen  the  African 
captive  released  from  prison  and 
maintained  at  liberty,  on  his  mason- 
ic parole,  because  he  was  an  CTiter^ 
ed  apprentice  only !  I  know  a  sea 
captain  who  was  impressed  from  his 
vessel,  and  compelled  to  defend  a 
fort  expected  hourly  to  be  attacked 
by  storm,  in  which  case  he  was  sui^ 
of  double  vengeance  for  fighting 
against  a  people  with  whom  the 
United  States  were  at  peace.  Aware 
of  his  peril,  he  tried  the  effect  of 
masonry,  until  his  language  was  un- 
derstood by  an  officer  of  the  garri- 
son, who  framed  a  pretext  for  taking 
him  from  his  post,  and  led  him  at 
the  dusk  of  evening  to  the  shore,  and 
left  him  to  escape  to  his  vessel, 
where  he  was  successfully  concealed 
from  daily  search  till  the  danger  was 
over. 

I  remember,  too,  the  story  of  two 
brothers,  related  by  their  father. 
The  eldest  was  a  mason,  and  master 
of  a  vessel.  The  youngest  being 
about  to  sail  witli  him,  he  advised 
him  to  be  initiated  into  the  arcana 
of  free  masonry,  as  itseful  to  him  in 

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192  MASONIC* 

cases  that  might  occur  while  abroad 
and  among  strangers:  the  young 
inan,  however,  declined  the  matter, 
as  of  no  consequence.  On  their  pas- 
sage to  the  VVest  Indies,  they  were 
taken  by  a  French  privaloer,  and 
their  vessel  sent  into  Guadaloupe. 
Being  brought  on  board  the  privateer, 
the  eldest  endeavoured  to  make  him- 
self known  as  a  mason  to  the^captain, 
who  afl'ected  to  consider  his  attempts 
as  intended  to  excite  the  crew  to  mu- 
tiny; and  put  him  in  jrons  for  his 
pains,  and  carried  him  into  port  in 
that  condition.  On  arriving  at  Gua- 
daloupe, he  was  thrust  into  the  com- 
mon filthy  prison,  among  a  crowd  of 
felons  of  all  colours  and  descriptions. 
"  So  much  (said  the  younger)  for  be- 
ing a  free  mason!  Do  you  now 
think  I  was  a  fool  for  not  joining 
your  lodge  ?'^  The  next  day,  how- 
ever, the  elder,  by  narrowly  watching 
at  a  little  window  of  the  prison,  and 
inquiring  by  the  silent  aid  of  mason- 
ry of  the  passers-by  and  spectators, 
was  perceived  by  a  brother;  and  in 
less  than  an  hour  taken  out  of  the 
jail,  by  order  of  Victor  Hughes,  and 
placed  at  a  hotel  on  a  liberal  allow- 
ance ;  while  his  young  companion 
remained  in  confmcment  upon  the 
scanty  and  damaged  rations  of  com- 
mon prisoners,  until  released  in  a 
short  time  at  the  solicitation  of  his 
initiated  brother.  It  is  hardly  ne- 
cessary to  add,  that  the  y<jung  man, 
on  his  return  to  Connecticut,  took 
care  to  be  made  a  mason  before  he 
went  to  sea  again. 

I  saw  two  men  in  a  quarrel — rea- 
son, religion,  and  every  other  motive 
was  urged  in  vain  :  one  of  the  parties, 
a  naval  officer,  from  the  south,  who 
had  challenged  his  eastern  adversary 
and  been  refused,  was  perfectly  in- 
toxicated with  rage,  and  struck  about 
him  like  a  fury,  until  a  masonic  fin- 
ger from  the  little  object  of  his  ven- 
geance, like  the  talismanic  wand  of  a 
magician^  or  a  shock  of  electricity, 
hushed  him  to  peace,  and  soon  resto- 


red him  to  friendship.  Not  theiF 
being  one  of  the  fraternity  myself,  1 
believed  masonry,  from  itseffects>  to 
be  a  good  thing;  and  I  have  since 
been  enabled  by  experience  to  say 
Probatum  est. 


From  the  Atheneum. 

WRECK  OF  THE  MEDUSA. 

Among  the  peculiar  circumstances 
attending  the  dreadful  wreck  of  tlie 
French  vessel,  the  Medusa,  on  flic 
coast  of  Africa,  the  following  is  not 
among  the  least  worthy  of  being  re- 
corded. After  passing  thirteen  dayi 
on  a  raft,  subject  to  every  privation, 
and  exposed  to  a  parching  heat,  which 
produced  madness  in  all  its  hideous 
Ibrms,  they  at  length  were  relieved 
from  this  perilous  situation,  having 
lost  135  out  of  150  men.  On  the 
shore  they  were  crowded  into  an  hos- 
pital, where  mendicaments,  and  even 
the  common  necessaries  of  life,  were 
wanting.  An  English  merchant, 
who  does  good  by  stealth,  and  would 
blush  to  find  it  iame,  went  to  see 
them.  One  of  the  poor,  unhappy 
wretches  made  the  signal  of  a  free- 
mason in  distress ;  it  was  understood, 
and  the  Englishman  instantly  said, 
"  My  brother,  you  must  come  to  my 
house,  and  make  it  your  home.'' 
The  Frencliman  nobly  replied,  "  My 
brother,  I  thank  you,  brut  I  cannot 
leave  my  companions  in  misfortune." 
"  Bring  them  with  you,"  was  the  an- 
swer ;  and  the  hospitable  Englishman 
maintained  them  all  until  he  could 
place  them  beyond  the  reach  of  mis- 
fortune. M,  Correard,  bookseller, 
of  Paris,  was  one  of  llie  objects  of 
this  gentleman's  noble  hospitality. 

Masonic  Ma.^^s. 

That  innocence  should  be  the  pro- 
fessed principle  of  a  mason,  occa- 
sions no  astonishment,  when  we 
consider  that  the  discovery  of  the 
Deity  whom  we  sen'e,  leads  us  to 
the  knowledge    of   those    imixtm^ 

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UASONtC. 


193 


%%  herewith  he  may  be  well  pleased : 
the  very  idea  of  a  God,  is  succeeded 
with  the  belief,  that  he  can  approve 
of  nothing  that  is  evil ;  and  when 
first  our  predecessors  professed 
thecnselves  sc^rvants  of  the  Great 
Architect  of  the  world,  as  an  indis- 
pensable dyty  they  professed  iuno- 
ccncy,  and  put  on  white  raiment,  as 
a  type  and  characteristic  of  their 
conviction,  and  of  their  being  devo- 
ted to  his  will. 

To  shroud  the  imperfections  of 
eur  friend,  and  cloak  his  infirmities, 
is  Christian  and  charitable,  and  con- 
sequently befitting  a  mason;  even 
the  truth  should  not  be  told  at  all 
times  ;  for  where  we  cannot  approve, 
we  should  pity  in  silence.  What 
pleasure  or  profit  can  there  arise  by 
exposing  the  errors  of  a  brother  ? 
To  exhort  him  is  virtuous,  to  revile 
him  is  inhuman,  to  set  him  out  as 
^n  object  of  ridicule,  is  infernal. 


BY-LAWS 

Or  Jerusalem  Chapter,  No.  8. 

ARTICLE    I. 

The  regular  nights  of  meeting  of 
this  chapter  shall  be  the  second  and 
fourth  Wednesdays  in  every  month ; 
and  at  such  other  times  as  the  M.  £. 
H.  P.  shall,  for  the  benefit  oi  the 
chapter,  think  proper;  that  from  the 
first  of  October  until  the  first  of 
March,  the  hour  of  meeting  shall  be 
at  six  o'clock,  and  the  remaining 
months  at  seven  o'clock. 

^RTICtR  If. 
Every  companion  shall  observe 
the  strictest  decorum  while  the  chap- 
ter is  at  labour;  and  if  in  default  of 
thb  observance,  he  conduct  himself 
in  a  reprehensible  and  anti-masonic 
manner,  it  shall  be  the  duty  of  the 
presiding  officer  to  call  him  to  order, 
or  reprove  him :  if  he  persists  in  his 
improper  conduct,  he  shall  be  ex- 
pelled for  the  evenin^i  and  be  at  the 

VOL.  H.  ■   '  V      25    .. 


mercy  of  the  chapter  for  his  re-ad- 
mission. 

ARTICLE   til. 

No  member  shall  be  permitted  to 
rise  irih!  speak  more  than  twice  on 
one  subject,  without  permission 
from  the  presiding  officer. 

ARTICU:    IV. 

No  brother  shall  be  permitted  to 
visit  more  than  once,  excepting  he 
be  a  sojourner,  or  member  of  some 
regular  chapter  in  the  United  States. 

ARTICLE    V. 

Any  brother  applying  for  ad- 
vancement, or  as  an  adjoining  mem- 
ber, shall  be  regularly  proposed, 
and  seconded,  on  the  one  ni^ht  of 
meeting,  and  his  name  shall  be  by 
the  secretary  handed  to  the  stand- 
ing committee,  who  having  report- 
ed favourably,  he  shall  be  balloted 
for  at  the  next  meeting,  and  two 
black  balls  shall  exclude  him;  it 
shall,  however,  be  discretionary  with 
the*  presiding  oflicer  to  send  the  bal- 
lots round  again,  to  ascertain  if  the 
black  balls  wefe  pot  in  through  mis- 
take. Should  he  be  admitted,  be 
shall  pay  at  the  time  of  his  advance- 
ment, or  admission,  the  necessury 
fees. 

ARTICLE    VI. 

All  committees,  not  exceeding 
three,  shall  be  appointed  by  the 
presiding  officer. 

ARTICLE    VII. 

The  standing  committee  shall  be 
appointed  at  the  annual  election  of 
officers,  and  shall  consist  of  five 
persons,  whose  du^  it  shall  be  scru- 
pulously to  inquire  into  the  cha- 
racter, abilities,  and  profession,  of 
all  candidates  for  exaltation,  or  ad- 
mission, into  the  chapter,  and  to 
make  a  faithful  report  of  the  same, 
in  writing.  Such  candidate,  or  can- 
didates, shall  not  be  balloted  for, 
^ntil  the  report  of  the  committee 
shall  have  been  read  to,  and  consid- 
ered by,  the  chapter.    It  shall  be 


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194  MASONIC. 

their  fiirtber  duly  to  inspect  the 
books  of  the  treasurer,  and  secreta- 
ryy  to  supervise  the  finances,  to  re- 
port the  state  of  the  funds  hidf  year- 
ly to  siqierintend  the  necessary  pre- 
parations for  the  meeting  of  the 
chapter,  and  to  observe  diat  the 
lyler  keep*  the  room  clean,  and  in 
good  oroer*  A  report  signed  by 
three  of  said  committee,  shall  be 
oensidered  sufficient. 


AETICLB  vin. 
No  companion  shall  be  elected  to 
the  office  of  high  priest  two  succes- 
sive years. 

ABTtCLS   IX. 

The  tyler  shall  be  )>aid  one  dol- 
lar per  night  for  tyling  the  chapter, 
and  serving  Hs  summonses;  and  also 
one  dollar  for  every  companion  that 
shall  be  exalted  in  the  chapter; 
and  fifty  cents  fbr  every  adjoinmg 
member. 

▲BTICLE   X. 

Each  companion  shall  pay  twelve 
and  a  half  cents  per  quarter  as  grand 
chapter  dues. 

ARTICLE   Xf. 

No  companion  shall  be  permitted 
to  withdraw  fVom  membershijp  until 
his  dues  are  paid,  or  remitted  by  the 
*  chapter;  and  if  he  desires  a  certifi- 
cate, he  shall  pay  for  the  same, 
diree  dollars  to  the  secretoiy. 

ARTICLE  xu. 
*  The  fees  for  advancement  in  tliis 
chapter  shall  be  for  the  four  degrees 
twenty  dollars;  for  three  degrees 
sixteen  dollars;  for  two  degrees 
twelve  dollars  and  fiAy  cents;  and 
for  adjoining  members,  the  fee  of 
admission  shall  be  ^ve  doUars. 

ARTICtB   XIIL 

These  by-laws,  when  adopted  by 
the  chapter,  shall  be  subscribed  to 
by  the  metribers,  and  shall  not '  be 
annulled  but  by  a  vote  of  a  majority 
of  the  members  present  at  a  regu* 


lar  meeting  of  this  chapter,  on  a 
proposition  in  writing,  whid^  tbaSL 
have  been  previously  laid  before  the 
chapter  at  kast  two  wedcs.  Auf 
officer  of  this  chapter  absemiiv 
himself  firom  the  duties  of  fm  office 
three  months,  may  be  superwdod 
by  a  new  election,  at  the  tjwcreciaii 
of  the  chapter. 


GRAND  CHAPTER  OF 
NEW-YORK. 

The  following  compMaena 
elected  to  office  fbr  the  present  yeafi 
at  the  grand  convocation  in  Albaiqr, 
held  the  beginning  of  the  preseot 
month: 

M.  £.  Ezra  Ames,  grand  h^ 
priest. 

M.  E.  Richard  Hatfi^  depuqr 
grand  high  priest. 

M.  E.  Joseph  Enos,  grand  king. 

M.  E.  John  Brush,  grand  scribe. 

Companion  William  A.  Cladc, 
grand  chaplain. 

Companion  Ebeaeser  Wadswortbi 
grand  secretaiy. 

Companion  OarretL.I>ox,  grand 
treasurer. 

Companion  John  Ball,  jwi.  grand 
marshal 

Conyanion  Bewttt^giiiid 

sentineL 


GRAND  CHAPTER  OF 
KENTUCKY. 

The  following  companiont  were 
elected  to  office  for  the  present  year, 
at  the  grand  convocation  bdd  ia 
Frankfort,  in  December  last: 

M.  E.  WDliam  C^bcs  Hunt,  of 
Lexington,  grand  high  priest. 

M.  E.  John  M'Kinney,  jua.  cf 
Versailles,  deputy  grand  highprssL 

M.  E.  William  Bell,  of  Shdby- 
ville,  grand  king. 

M.  E.  James  Mason PQce, of  L^* 
toigtoo;  grand  scribe. 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


HASOKTC 


195 


ContMBioa  PhHip   Swigert,    of 
Vennulies,  grand  secretanr. 

Compamon  Oliver'G.  Waggener, 
of  Frankfort,  grand  treasurer. 

Companion  Rev.  John  Ward,  of 
liexington,  grand  chaplain. 

Companion  Henry  Wingate,  of 
Frankfort,  grand  master. 

Companion  Charles  Scott  Bibb, 
of  Frankfort,  G.  C.  G. 

Companion  Edward  S.  Coleman, 
a£  Frankfort,  grand  steward  and 
tyler. 

%*  Sub^rdinale  chapters  may 
be  expected  in  our  next. 

SELECT  SEWENCES. 

Charity,  in  the  works  of  moralists, 
is  defined  to  be  the  love  of  our 
brethren,  or  a  kind  of  brotherly  a  A 
fectioQ  one  towards  another.  The 
rule  and  standard  that  this  habit  is 
ID  be  examined  and  regulated  by 
among  Christians,  is  the  love  we 
bear  to  ourselves,  or  that  the  Me 
diator  bore  towards  us;  that  is,  ic 
must  be  unfeigned,  constant,  and 
out  <^  no  other  design  than  man's 
happiness. 

He  whoBe  bosom  is  locked  up 
a|;ainst compassion  ba  barbarian; 
hu  mamiert  are  brutal;  his  mind 
gloomy  and  morose;  and  his  pas-; 
gions  as  savage  as  the  beasts  of  the 
forest. 


iug;  but  also,  that  thqr  should 
speak  well  of  each  other.  It  is  a; 
degree  of  common  justice  which 
honesty  itself  prompts  one  to.  It  is 
not  enough  that  we  refrain  Urom . 
slander;  but  it  is  required  of  masons 
that  they  should  speak  ^ciouiAy, 
and  with  affection,  withholding 
nothing  that  can  be  uttered  to  a 
brothePs  praise  or  good  name  with 
truth. 

It  is  a  degree  of  justice  which 
every  man  has  a  right  to,  from  his 
brother,  that  his  virtues  be  not 
concealed. 

It  b  of  no  cooseouence  of  what 
parents  any  man  b  bom,  provided 
he  be  a  man  of  merit;  or  your  ho- 
nours, they  are  the  objects  of  envy 
and  intemperance,  and  must  ere 
long  be  laid  in  the  dust;  or  your 
riches,  they  cannot  gratify  the  wants 
thev  create;  but  be  meek  and  lowly 
of  heart :  Masonry  reduces  att  con- 
ditions to  a  pleasing  and  rational 
equaUty;  nrtde  was  net  made  for 
man,  and  he  that  bumbleth  shall  be 
exalted. 

True  pleasure  dUclatros  all  cori- 
nection  with  indecenc]^  and  excess: 
and  declines  the  society  of  riot 
roarittg  in  the  jollity  of  heart.  A 
sense  of  the  dignity  ot  human  nature 
always  accompanies  it,  and  it  admits 
not  of  any  thing  that  b  degrading. 


Calumny  and  slander  are  detesta- 
ble crimes  against  society.  Nothing 
pan  be  viler  than  to  tradqc^  a  man 
behuid  hb  back;  it  is  like  the  villa- 
ny  of  an  assassin,  who  has  not  virtue 
enough  to  give  his  adversary  the 
means  of  self-defence:  but  lurking 
in  darknefs,  stabs  hjm  whilst  he  b 
warmed,  imd  unsuspicious  of  an 
en^tny, 

It  b  Qot  only  expected  of  masons,  I 
thut  they  should,  with  ^ponscien-J 
Am  fouli  tfAm  i)Km  ^viHyeak- 


Contempt  b  perfectly  inc^Hisia^ 
ent  with  good-breediiig,  and  b  en- 
tirely averse  to  it.  And  if  thb  wanit 
of  respect  be  discovered,  either  in  ^ 
man's  looks,  words,  or  gesture^ 
come  it  fiom  whom  it  will,  it  always 
bnogs  uneasiness  and  pain  aloi^ 
with  it :  for  nobody  can  contented^ 
bear  to  be  slighted 

There  caimat  be  a  gretifier  rude- 
ness than  to  interr^pt  another  in  tl^ 
cufrentof  hb  discoiurse :  for  if  it  h^ 
not  «flfper<iiM9^  and/p%  to  iifuvcr 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


196  MASONIC. 

^inau  before  we  know  what  he  hasil  deduce  this  second  rule,  which   in* 
to  say,  yet  it  is  a  plain  declaration  |  eludes  all  the  moral  law,  ^  do  unto 


that  we  aie  weary  of  his  discourse  ; 
that  we  disregai'd  what  he  says,  as 
judging  it  not  fit  to  entertain  the 
society  with ;  and  is  in  fact  little 
less  than  a  downright  desiruig  that 
ourselves  jnay  have  audience,  who 
have  sometliing  to  produce  better 
wortli  the  attention  of  the  company. 
As  thb  is  no  ordinary  degree  of  dis- 
respect, it  cannot  but  give  always 
very  great  offence. 

To  think  and  speak  ill  of  others, 
is  not  only  a  bcui  thing,  but  a  sign  of 
a  bad  man.  Wlien  men  are  bad 
theipselvcs,  they  are  glad  of  any 
opportunity  to  censure  others,  and 
endeavour  to  bring  things  to  a  level; 
hoping  it  will  be  some  justification 
of  their  own  faults,  if  they  can  but 
make  others  appear  equally  guilty. 

Some  men  look  with  an  evil  eye 
upon  the  good  that  is  in  others,  and 
do  what  ihpy  can  to  discreilit  their 
commendable  qualities;  thinking 
their  own  character  lessened  by 
them,  they  greedily  entertain,  and 
industriously  publish,  what  may 
raise  themselves  upon  the  ruins  of 
other  men's  reputations. 

A  mason  is  a  lover  of  quiet;  is 
always  subject  to  the  civil  powers ; 
provided  they  do  not  infringe  upon 
the  limited  bounds  of  religion  and 
reason;  and  it  was  never  yet  known 
that  a  real  craftsman  was  concerned 
in  any  dark  plot,  designs,  or  contri- 
vances against  the  state,  because 
the  welfhre  of  the  nation  is  his  pecu- 
liar care;  80  that  from  the  highest 
to  the  lowest  step  of  magistracy, 
due  regard  and  deference  b  paid  by 
him. 

In  benevolence  is  comprehended 
the  whole  law  of  society,  and  whilst 
we  weigh  our  obligations  towards 
mankind  by  the  divine  essay,  "love 
thy  neighbour  as  thyself/'  we  must 


all  men  as  thou  wouldest  they  should 
dp  unto  thee." 

A  mason  is  to  treat  mferiors  as 
he  would  have  his  superiors  deal 
with  him,  wisely  considering  that 
the  original  of  mankind  is  the  same] 
and  though  masonry  divests  no  man 
of  his  honour,  yet  does  the  craft  ad- 
rait  that  strictly  to  pursue  the  paths 
of  virtue,  whereby  a  clear  conscience 
may  be  preserved,  is  the  only  me- 
thod to  make  any  man  noble. 

TO  PREVENT  SLANDER. 

By  Archbishop  TiUoUom. 

Never  say  any  evil  of  another, 
but  what  you  certainly  know. 

Whenever  you  positively  accuse 
a  man  of  any  crime,  though  it  be  in 
private,  and  among  friends,  speak 
as  if  you  were  upon  your  oatk^  be- 
cause God  sees  and  hears  you. 
This,  not  only  charity,  but  justice 
demands  of  us.  .  He  that  easily  cre- 
diu  a  false  report  b  almost  as  culpa- 
ble as  the  first  inventor  of  it.  There- 
fore, never  speak  evil  of  any  upon 
common  fame,  which,  for  the  most 
part,  b  false,  but  almost  always 
uncertain. 

Before  you  speak  evil  of  anothefi 
consider  whether  he  hath  not  obli- 
ged you  by  some  real  kindness,  ai^ 
then  it  is  a  bad  return  to  speak  ill  of 
him  that  hath  done  you  good.  Con- 
sider also  whether  you  may  not 
come  hereafter  to  be  acqua'wted 
with  him,  related  to  him,  or  in  want 
of  hb  favour,  whom  you  have  thus 
injured ;  and  whether  it  may  not  be 
in  his  power  to  revenee  a  spiteful 
and  needles^  word,  by  a  nuewd 
turn.  So  that  if  a  man  made  no 
conscience  of  hurting  others,  yet  he 
should  in  prudence  have  some  ono* 
sideratioD  of  himself. 

Let  us  accustom  ourselves  to  be 
truly  sorry  for  the  faults  of  men, 
and  then  we  shall  take  no  pleasure 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MASONIC. 


.    197 


ill  pubtishtng  them.  Common  hu- 
manity requires  this  of  us,  consider- 
ing the  great  infirmities  of  bur  na- 
ture, and  that  we  also  are  liable  to 
be  tempted  ;  considering  likewise 
how  severe  a  punishment  every 
crime  is  to  itself,  how  terribly  it  ex- 
poseth  a  man  to  the  wrath  of  God, 
both  here  and  hereafter. 

Whenever  we  hear  any  man  evil 
spoken  of,  if  we  have  heard  an^ 
good  of  him,  let  us  say  that.     It  is 


and  leave  yoit  little  time  to  talk  of 
others. 

BENEFITS. 

The  misplacing  of  8(  benefit  i^ 
worse  than  the  not  reccivmg  of  it ; 
for  the  one  is  another  mnn*9  laul^ 
but  the  otlier  is  mine.  The  erroui 
of  the  giver  does  oft  times  excuse 
the  ingratitude  of  the  receiver ;  for 
a  favour  ill  plac^ed  is  rather  a  profu* 
sloB  than  a  benefit      It  is  the  most 


always  more  humane  and  more  ho- 9  shameful  of  losses,  an  inconsiderate 
ndurable  to  vindicate  others  than  to  |  bounty.  I  will  choose  a  man  of  in- 
tegrity, sincere,  considerate,  grate- 
ful, temperate,  well-natured,  neither 
covetous  nor  sordid;  and  when  I 
have  obliged  such  a  man,  though 
not  worth  a  groat  in  the  world,  I 
have  gained  my  end.  If  we  give 
only  to  receive,  we  lose  the  fairest 
objects  for  our  charity,  the  absent, 
the  sick,  the  captive,  and  the  needy. 
The  rule  is,  we  are  to  give  as  we 
would  receive,' cheerfully,  quickly, 
and  without  hesitation ;  for  there  is 
no  grace  in  a  benefit  that  sticks  to 
the  fingers.  A  benefit  should  be 
made  acceptable  by  all  possible 
means,  even  to  the  end,  that  the  re- 
ceiver, who  is  never  to  forget  it,  may 
bear  it  in  his  mind  with  satisfac- 
tion.— Sknkca. 


accuse  them.  Were  it  necessary 
that  man  should  be  evil  spoken  of, 
his  good  and  bad  qualities  shonki  be 
represented  together,  otherwise  he 
may  be.  strangely  misrepresentad, 
and  an  indifl^nt  man  may  be 
made  a  monstec 

They  that  will  observe  nothing  in 
a  wise  man  bat  his  oversights  and 
follies ;  nothing  in  a  good  but  his 
failings  and  infirmities,  may  render 
both  despicable.  Should  we  heap 
together  all  the  passionate  speeches, 
all  the  imprudent  actions  of  the  best 
man,  and  present  them,  all  at  one 
view,  concealing  his  virtues,  he,  in 
this  disguise,  would  look  like  a  mad- 
man or  fury ;.  and  yet,  if  his  life 
vferefcdrly  represented  in  the  man- 
ner it  was  led,  he  would  appear  to 
all  the  world  to  be  an  amiaoie  and 
excellent  person.  ^  But  how  numer- 
ous soever  any  man's  ill  qualities 
are,  it  b  but  just  that  he  should 
have  due  praise  of  his  few  real 
virtue^. 

That  you  may  not  ispedk  ill,  do 
pot  delight  in.  hearing  it  pf  any. 
Give  no  countenance  to  busy  bo- 
dies :  if  you  cannot  decently  reprove 
them  because  of  dieir  quality,  divert  i 
the  discourse  some  oUier  way;  or 
by  seeming  not  to  mind  it,  signify 
that  you  do  not  hke  it. 

Let  every  man  mind  his  own 
duty  and  concern.  Do  but  endea- 
vour, in  good  earnest,  to  mend  your- 
self, and  it  will  be  work  enough. 


A  mason,  in  regard  to  himself,  is 
carefuUy  to  avoid  all  manner  of  in- 
temperance or  excess,  which  might 
obstcuct  him  in  the  performance  of 
the  necessary  duties  of  his  laudable 
profenioD,  or  lead  him  into  any 
crimes  which  would  reflect  disho^ 
nour  upon  the  ancient  firatemity. 

A  mason  is  to  be  so  far  benevo- 
lent, as  never  to  shut  his  ear  unkind- 
ly to  the  complaints  of  wretched  po- 
verty; but  when  a  brother  is  op- 
presfed  by  want,  he  is  in  a  peculiar 
manner  to  Ibten  to  his  suffering^ 
with. attention;  in  consequence  of 

which,    V^   ™^^    ^^^   ^^"^  ^^ 
breast,    and  relieve  without  preju- 


19« 


AGRICULTURAL. 

GREAT  FARMING. 

The  foUowtng  artick  fifooi  Uie 
Aaaerican  Farmer,  was  coflMnanioa- 
ted  to  the  editor  of  that  vahiable 
paper  hy  a  gendeman  of  the  first 
respectability,  and  the  memoranda 
ii  uodoabtedly  perfectly  correct 
It  deserves  the  peculiar  attention  of 
the  cultivators  of  the  soil,  and  wiH 
be  highly  satisfactory  to  off  our 
leaders,  wha  fed  an  interest  in  im- 
provements  in  ^e  highly  important 
art  of  agriculture. 

I  visited  and  spent  a  day  at  Mr. 
Stimson's  farm  in  the  township  of 
Galway,  Saratoga  county.  New* 
York.  His  tract  of  land  or  ikrm 
contains  about  SM)  acres,  of  which 
beculdvmtes,  as  yet,  onfy  between 
80  and  100  acres,  which  are  laid  off 
dito  8  acre  lots. 

lie  has  certificates  of  prenfthims 
firom  the  agricultural  society  of  that 
«ounQr,  for  having  the  best  managed 
Iktm  m  the  coun^  j  7 

For  having  raised  d2  bushels  of 
barley  firom  one  acre ; 

For  having  raised  4 1-2  tons  thno- 
thy  hay  per  acre  fimn  a  tot  of  8 
cores,  and  he  look  the  patas  to 
«mgh  the  hay  fit)m  ene  of  these 
nerps  four  days  aller  it  WM  eat,  and 
fbund  H  to  weigh  9  toasaad  834  lbs; 

For  having  raised  104  buAeli  of 
eora  to  the  acre ; 

For  having  raised  857 1-2  bushels 
potatoes  liNNa  half  an  aore. 

fiiff  method  for  raimg  poUaqt»  k 
tUisMed; 

lie  open  a  junow  of  2  Ibet  9 
inches  apart,  i^ants  10  inehesiq^aFt; 
*oesor  hHli  th^n  one  way  only; 
phints  diem  fallow,  namely  about 
2  Biohesi  as    soon  as  diey«how 


^  T  I  themselves  ribout  8  ioobes  above  the 
I  ground,  he  covers  about  2  inches  of 
them,  in  8  or  10  da^s,  or  when  the 
tops  are  about  6  mches  high,  he 
spreads  die  tops  open,  and  hoes  and 
covers  them  again  toaboiit2  indies^ 
and  whoi  grown  up  again  to  aho«i 
6  inches,  he  hoes  and  ccyvera  then 
as  before.  By  this  piocess,  he 
thinks  it  possible  that  one  thousand 
bushels  may  be  raised  fiom  one  acre 
of  ground. 

^  method  ^  raisimff  ecrm  : 
He  has  a  machine  that  croapes  the 
ridges,  he  planis  three  to  mhiRjr  iha 
ridges  or  hulsare  about  2  feet  6  inch- 
es apart  .He  suck^s  afler these* 
cond  ploughing.  Hecuts  thesialk 
and  Mad^  together,  dose  Co  the 
gfoujnd.     The  aveni0e  product  is 

4  1-2  ears  to  the  hiU;  Ibe  com 
weiff hs  60  to  62  Ibs^  to  the  busheL 

His  general  method  of  faimiiuj^  is 
to  lay  off  his  land  into  lots  of  o  to 
10  acres;  each  lot  is  manured  once 
in  four  or  five  years;  his  usual  quan- 
tity is  eight  wagon  loads,  with  four 
horses,  ^  each  acre :  first  year  is  im 
grass ;  second  in  com ;  &ira  in  bar- 
ley;  fourth  in  wheat,  a^inQg  or  win- 
ter wheat,  with  clover  and  timothy, 

5  Bm.  clever  and  2  quarts  timothy 
peracre^  the nnrtheni or  l^e clover 
ne  prefers;  be  mows  hb  timctthy 
for  two  years,  pastures  it  one  year, 
in  the  fourth  ytjar  he  turns  dowp  tb^ 
aod.putsitin  wheat  on  the  sod;  lijt 
and  2d  con^  3d  barley  or  ipring  or 
winter  wheajt,  and  stocks  it  down  as 
before. 

JVfr.  Stimson  remarked,  he  has 
a  field  used  as  pasture,  and  what  he 
intends  is  turning  down  the  so4, 
roll  it  well,  give  it  a  top  draBin|^  of 
manure,  plough  it  the  second  tunp 
on  the  sod,  manure  it  again,  put  it 
into  wheat,  harrow  it  in,  and  expects 
to  moke  85  to  40  bushels  per  acre* 

The  following  is  his  product  finom 
160  acres  as  reported  from  ueta^ 
survey  and  exanunation : 

Ten  aqr^  having  400  aj^  trees 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


><mncA&« 


1&9 


on  tbeniy  produced  25  tons  hay  .- 
8  acres  corn,  560  busheb;  8  acres 
do.  720  ;  10  do.  do.  300  &  l6  toM  of 
Iny;  4de. wheat,  ];40 bushels;  1 
do.  flax,  600  lbs.  ;  8  do.  oats,  560 
bushels;  8  do.  hay,  32  tons  ;  8  do. 
do.  36  do. ;  1  do.  barley,  60  bush 
els  ;  Sdo.  hay,  10  1-2  tons  ;  4  do. 
do.  12  do. ;  8  do.  do.  24  do. ;  2 
acres,  1000  bush^  potatoes;  2 
acres  in  vegetables,  which  also  rais- 
ed 400  chickens^ 

His  wheat  cost  htm  30  ceots  per 
bushel;  com  15  do.  do. 


POETICAL.. 


HIE  S£A-iOT. 


ntoa  THa  baltiborb  mqbsiv* 
eBftomcLB. 


MASONIC  ODE. 


/ 


Smpi^  sod  kinfi  havB  pais'd  awsy, 

Into  oblirion's  mine ; 
And  tow*rins  domsf  hare  fell  decay, 
Mtfe  anld  lasf  syna. 

Bat  Maaonnr,  the  gjlorions  art, 
•    With  wisdom's  rav  divine } 
'TwaB  ever  so,  the  Hebrew  crtes, 
in  aittd  hmg  syne. 

Behold  the  occidantal  chair, 

Proclaims  the  day^f  decline-* 
Hiram  of  Tm  was  seated  tbera 
ID  auld  lang  syne. 

The  South  prodahas  refrethneat  nigh) 

^gh  Nm/m's  the  time  to  dine ; 
And  biatUjf  d«ck*d  the  soathero  sky 
In  auld  lang  «yne. 

'Yes,  Blasonry,  whose  temple  here 

Was  boilt  t^  hands  dWuie, 
Shall  ^70?  shine  as  bright  and  clear, 
As  In  auld  lang  syne. 

Then  brethraR  for  the  worthy  ihr$4f 

Let  us  a  wreatbentwrne. 
The  three  great  beads  of  MasoiUry 
la  anld  lang  sync. 

'  Benembeiiing  oft  that  worthy  oae. 

With  aratltnde  divine ; 
The  Tymn  youth — the  widows*  son, 
•  Of  anld  lang  syne, 

A  WOBXIUII  Of  TBS  TllirU. 


The  winds  are  whistling  thro'  the  shrouds. 

The  waves  are  heavinc  high  ; 
And  o'er  yon  dreary  dritting  clouds 

Theresa  tempest  in  the  sky  y 
Whilst,  since  the  satis  are  snugly  fori'd, 

CoU'd,  ahivaring  in  the  lee, 
A  little  sea-boy  says — "  the  world 

Is  but  the aeafor  me. 

I  aevar  kaaw  a  ftither's  care ; 

And  scarce  a  mother's  love  ; 
They  died  a  poor  and  broken  pair. 

And  left  their  child  to  rove- 
To  rove  where  now  the  fatllows  hartd, 

Am  bnrstiag  from  the  lee ; 
And  yet  thb  warning  wat'ry  wodd 

Hi^  baea  a  hame  to  nta. 

The  cot,  which  8helter*d  once  my  head. 

Is  mouldering  on  the  plain ; 
The  tree,  whose  branches  o*er  K  spread, 

I  ne'er  sh^l  see  aeain'^ 
Save,  where  yon  binows  high  are  eurl'd, 

No  home  have  I  to  see ; 
Tet  stHl  this  warning  wat'ry  world 

Has  been  a  home  to  me.*' 

My  mother  said— '^  there's  One  above, 

The  orphan  to  protect!'* 
*<  And  I  will  ne'er  forget  her  love, 

Or  dying  words  neglect ; 
For  though  the  winds  In  witdness  a'hirl'df 

Are  raging  o'er  the-sea. 
Tat  wiU  that  One,  this  warring  world 

Forbid  to  injure  me. 

Tea,  let  the  tenq>est  roaring,  dread, 
-  Rave  round  us,  and  above ; 
Our  ship  has  not  a  timber'bead 

But  I  have  leam'd  to  love ; 
And  she  will  dash  the  biHowa  eurl'd, 

Far  Cirom  her  on  the  lee ; 
And  prove,  amid  a  wrecking  world 

A  triend.  In  need,  to  me, 

I  stUl  matt  aoante'er  yet  l*m  tea, 

Three  fourth  paMaoC  a  year ; 
3ttt  she  shall  know  me,  uLe  the  men, 

Whan  1  have  strengtli  to  steer^ 
£'ett  now  with  all  but  try-sail  furf  d, 

I'd  set  her  penant  free ; 
For  mid  this  warring  wat'ry  world 

There's  aot  a  fiMurln  me. 

And  I  will  buy  me  trowsers  white. 
When  heaves  our  port  in  view ; 
And  have  three  rows  of  buttons  bright. 

Upon  my  Jacket  blue ; 
For  though  by  storm  and  foitone  whiri'd, 
Our  cfl^tain  and  the  sea, 
)  Amid  this  warring  wat'iy  world, 
"     Hare  btea  bet  (Haads  to  me.'» 


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P6KtlCAI«« 


|THE  RICH  AND  THE  POOR  MAN.   I 

So  goes  the  world— if  wealthy,  you  may 
rail 

This  friend,  that  brother:  friend  and 
brothers  all : 

Though  yon  are  worthless — wKleti — ^ne- 
ver mind  it ; 

Yon  may  have  been  a  stable-boy — what 
then  ? 

Tis  wealth,  good  si^,  makes  k^normbU 

Voa  seek  respect,  no-doubtt  and  ffou  will 
find  it. 

Bat  if  von  are  poor,  heaven  help  you ! 

though  your  sire 
Had  royal  blood  wkhio  him,  aad  though 

you 
Possess  the  intellect  of  an^lt  too, 
'Tis   all  in  vain— the  world  will  ae'er 

inquire 
On  such  a  score — Why  should  it  take  the 

pains? 
^is  easier  to  weigh  purses,  sure,   than 

brains. 

I  once  saw  a  poor  devil,  keen  and  clerer, 
Witty  and  wise  ;  paid  a  man  a  visit, 
And  no  one  noticed  him,  and  no  one  ever 
Gave  him  a  welcome.    *«  Strange/'  cried 

I,  "  whence  is  it  ?" 

He  walk*d  on  this  side,  then  on  that. 

He  tried  to  introduce  a  social  chat ; 

Now  here,  now  there — in  vain  he  tried  ; 

Some  formally  and  freesingly  replied,  and 

some 
Said  by  their  silence— <' Better  stay  at 

home." 

A  rich  man  burst  the  door, 

As  Croesus  rich  I'm  sure. 
He  could  not  pride  hhnselt  upon  his  wH 
Nor  wisdom — for  he  had  not  got  a  bit : 
He  had  what's  better,  he  had  wealth. 

What  a  confusion  !  all  stand  up  erect — 

These  crowd  around  to  ask  him  of  his 

health; 

These  bow  in  honest  duty  and  respect ; 
And  these  arrange  a  sofa  or  a  cfaairi 
And  these  conduct  him  there. 
*^  AUow  me,  Sir,  the  honor,*^  then  a  bow 
Down  to  the  earth — Is't  possible  to  show 
Meet  gratitude  for  such  Kind  coadeteen* 
sion? 

The  poor  man  fanrng  his  bead, 
And  to  himself  he  sa|d, 
"  Thb  is  indeed  beyond  my  comprehen- 
sion," 
Than  looking  round. 
One  friendly  face  he  found. 
And  said— «  Pray  tell  me  why  is  wealth 

preferred 
To  wi^om  ?"— «<  That's  a  iiUy  queftton, 
friend !" 


Replied   tlie  other— **  have   yon    never 
heard, 
A  man  may  lend  his  store. 
Of  gold  and  silver  ore. 
But  wisdom  none  can  borrow,  none  etm 
lend!" 


Exlrad  from  the  Carriers  Adirtu  to  tke 
Pqirwit  of  (he  Mbwi^  Phugk  Boy. 

Good  luck  to  yoa,  sweet  ladies. 

And  parties  oft  and  gay, 
Arid  dresses  fine,  and  carriage's, 

And  horses  black  and  bi^ ; 

And  pleasant  rides,  to  take  the  air ; 

And  fashionable  shows ; 
And  ouy  each  belle  lead  eveiy  baU, 

And  con(Juer  all  the  beaux. 

But  O !  'tis  for  my  country  lass, 

The  dearest  wish  I  feel, 
Who  treads  the  dew  with  milkiag  ptil, 

And  turns  the  spinning  wheel ; 

And  helps  to  tend  her  mother's  bouse. 

And  dress  her  father's  fare, 
And  combs  the  little  cbotrfiy  boys^ 

That  bright  to  school  repair. 

Heigh  ho !  Love  ruHs  us  all  they  say  > 
O  love !  thou  welcome  g«est  1 

Forlorn  is  he  that  never  felt 
Thy  flame  within  his  breast ! 

But  this  I'd  say,  though  ^ity  belles 
Should  cut  me  into  quarters, 

That  such  as  she  throughout  the  land 
Are  Uncle  Sam's  best  daug^tera^ 


TO   COBEESPONDEKTS. 

Adoniram  cannot  be  admitted 
into  the  Masonic  Register,  for  two 
reasons ;  Aiist,  that  hii  observ^dcMas, 
with  respect  to  the  ffrand  lodge  of 
the  state  of  New- York,  are  unjust, 
as  far  as  our  knowledge  extends; 
second,  a  man  who  writes  under 
that  signature,  has  nothing  to  ^ 

with  BLUE  LODGES. 

Oar  wonhipful  brother,  and  ex- 
cellent companion  PmLip  Swiosbt, 
grand  secretary  to  the  grand  chap- 
ter of  Kentucky,  has  tavoored  us 
with  the  proceedings  of  the  grand 
chapter  of  that  state,  at  their  hex 
convocation,  for  which  we  r^tani 
him  our  sincere  thanks. 


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>  THE 

AMERICAN 

Ladies'  and  Gentlemen's. Majgazine. 

BY  LUTHER  PRATT. 


If  it  be  possible,  as  much  as  lieth  in  you,  live  peaceably  with  all  men, 

Rom.  xii,  18. 

Pure  religion,  and  undefiled  before  God  and  the  Father  is  this,  to  vbit 
the  fatherless  and  widows  in  their  affliction,  and  to  keep  himself  unspotted 
from  the  world.  James  i,  27. 

[No.  VI,]         FPR  MARCH,  A.  D.  1823.  A.  L.  5823.        [Vol.  II.] 


MASONIC. 


INEFFABLE  DEGREES, 
CONTINUED. 

By  Co.MP.iNioN  Giles  F.  Yates 
X.  Knight  op  the  Ninth  Arch. 

To  form  a  chapter  of  knights  of 
the  ninth  arch,  there  should  be  at 
least  five  persons  present.  The 
most  proper  place  for  holding  the 
same,  would  be  in  a  vault  under 
ground,  which  should  be  properly 
furnished. 

Officers. 

1.  The  most  potent  grand  mas- 
ter, represents  Solomon  in  the  E., 
s^ed  in  a  chair  of  state,  under  a 
rich  canopy,  witli  a  crown  on  his 
head,  and  a  sceptre  in  his  hand. 
He  is  dressed  in  royal  robes  of  yel- 
low, and  an  ermined  vestment  of 
blue  satin,  reaching  to  the  elbows  3 
a  broad  purple  ribbon  from  the  right 
shoulder  to  the  left  hip,  to  which  is 
hung  a  trjangle  of  gold. 

2.  The  grand  warden,"  represent- 
ing the  king  of  Tyre,  on  his  l6ft 
haiid^  seated  as  a  stranger,  clothed 

VOL.  II.  26 


in  a  purple  robe,  and  a  yellow  vest- 
ment. 

3,  The  grand  inspector,    repre- 


senting ■ 


with  a  drawn 


sword  in  hb  hand. 

4.  The  grand  treasurer,  repre- 
senting J.*,  in  the  N,  with  a  golden 
key  to  his  fifth  button  hole,  and 
upon  it  the  letters  J.  V.  1.  L. 

5.  The  grand  secretary,  repre- 
senting St.\  in  the  S. 

The  four  last  mentioned  officers 
should  be  ornamented  with  the  same 
ribbon  and  jewel,  as  the  M.  P.,  and 
sit  covered.  The  three  last  should 
have  robes  of  blue,  whhout  vest- 
ments. 

No  person  ought  to  be  admitted 
to  this  degree  unless  he  has  pre- 
viously taken  all  the  preceding  de- 
grees, and  manifests  a  charitable, 
and  zealous  disposition  towards  the 
fraternity. 

Opened  bv  the  powerful  and  mys- 
terious number. 

History  and  Charge  of  this 

DEGREE. 

My  wonhy  Brother, 
It  is  my  intention,  at  this  time,  to 


Li 


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MASONIC. 


irjve  you  a  clearer  account  of  certain 
historical  traditions  of  our  order, 
than  you  hjlve  yet  received. 

In  doing  tliis,  it  will  be  necessary 
to  explain  to  you  some  circumstan* 
ces  <^  vei^  remote  antiquity. 

Enoch  was  the  seventh  from 
Adam.  The  Arabian*  history  as- 
cribes much  knowledge  to  this  ex- 
cellent roan;  and  among  other 
things^  that  he  was  instructed  by 
Heaven  in  a  mysterious  science. 
In  sacred  writ  we  are  told,  tliat  he 
<<  wallced  witli  God,"  that  "  he  pleas- 
ed God,"  and  was  translated  that  he 
5hould  not  see  death.  Masonic  tra- 
ditions inform  us,  that  he  was 
ihvoured    with    a    mystical  vision. 


•  •••*• 


Enoch  being  inspired  by  the  Most 
Hiffh,  and  in  commemoration  of  this 
vision,  built  a  temple  under  ground, 
and  dedicated   the  same  to    God. 


•  •  •  # 


This  happened  in  that  partof  tlie 
world,  which  was  aAerwards  called 
the  land  of  Canaan,  and  since  known 
by  the  name  of  the  Holy  Land. 

Enoch  caused  a  triangular  plate 
of  gold  to  be  made,  each  side  of 
which  was  a  cubit  long ;  he  enriched 
it  with  the  most  precious  stones,  and 
incrusted  the  plate  upon  a  stone  of 
agate,  of  the  same  form.  He  then 
engraved  upon  it  the  ineffable  char- 
acters, and  placed  it  on  a  triangular 
pedestal  of  white  marble,  which  he 
deposited  in  tlie  deepest  arch  of  his 
temple. 

When  his  temple  was  completed, 
he  m;ide  a  door  of  stone,  and  put  a 
ring  of  iron  therein,  by  which  it 
might  be  occasionally  raised ;  and 
placed  it  over  the  opening  of  the 
nrst  arch,  tliat  the  sacred  matters 
enclosed  therein,  might  be  preser- 
ved from  the  universal  destruction 
then  impending.  And  none  but 
Enoch  knew  of  the  treasure  which 
the  arches  contained. 

Adam  had  predicted,    that    the 

*  See  S,  Town^s  Speculative 
Masonry. 


world  was  to  be  destroyed  at  ow 
time  by  the  force  of  fire,  and  at  ano- 
ther time  by  the  violence  and  quan- 
tity of  water.  Enoch  perceiving 
that  the  knowledge  of  the  arts,  was 
likely  to  be  lost  in  the  general  de- 
struction, and  detiirous  of  having  the 
same  transmitted  to  future  genera- 
tions, caused  two  great  pillars*  to  be 
erected,  and  engraved  thereon  some 
general  knowledge  of  the  heavenly 
bodies,  and  more  especially  of  geo- 
metry or  masonry.     ♦••»««*♦. 

Methuselah  was  tlie  son  of  Enoch, 
who  was  the  father  of  Lamech. 
who  was  the  father  of  Noah.  Now 
"the  wickedness  of  man  became 
great  in  the  earti] ;  and  the  earth 
was  corrupt  before  God,  and  filkd 
with  violence."  "  And  the  Lord 
said,  I  will  destroy  man  whom  I 
liave  created  :  behold  I  will  destroy 
them  with  the  earth."  But  «  Noah 
found  grace  in  the  eyes  of  the 
Lord  ^"  and  the  Losd  commanded 
him  to  construct  an  ark  according 
to  a  plan  which  he  gave  him  ^%md 
"  Noah  did  as  the  Lord  bad  com- 
manded him."  And  the  Lord  said 
unto  Noah  ^^  thou  shalt  come  into 
the  ark,  thou  and  tliy  wife,  and  thy 
sons'  wives,  with  thee,  and  of  every 
living  thing  of  all  flesh,  two  of  eve- 
ry sort,  shalt  thou  bnng  into  tiie 
ark  to  keep  them  alive  whh  ^ee  f* 
and  Noah  di4  according  unto  all 
that  the  Lord  had  commanded  him. 
He  was  600  years  old  when  the 
flood  of  waters  was  upon  the  earth. 
There  was  not  at  this  time  any  of 
the  ancient  patriarchs  living,  *»ve 
Methuselah,  who  was  about  969 
years  old;  and  it  is  supposed  by 
some,  that  he  perished  in  the  gen- 
eral ruin. 

The  flood  took  i^ce  in  the  year 
of  the  world  l65o,  and  deatroyed 
most  of  the  superb  moimmeDttof 
antiquity.      One  of  the  pilhus  of 

•  Some  writers  have  ascrihed 
these  pillars  to  Seth;  butimmemo* 
rial  masonic  tradition  aJirwUf  thai 
they  were  erected  by  Enoch. 

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Elnoch  fell  in  the  general  destruc-j 
tton  ;  but  by  divine  permission,  the* 
other  withstood  the  water,  by  which 
means  the  ancient  state  of  the  liberal 
arts,  particularly  masonry,  has  been 
handed  down  to  us. 

We  learn  from  holy  writ,  the  his- 
tory of  succeeding  times,  till  the 
Israelites  became  slaves  to  the 
Egyptians;  from  which  bondage 
they  were  freed  under  the  conduct 
of  Moses.  The  same  sacred  book 
informs  us,  that  Moses  was  beloved 
of  God^  and  that  the  Most  High 
talked  with  him  on  Mount  Sinai. 
Here  God  delivered  to  him  the  ta- 
bles of  stone,  containing  the  deca- 
logue ;  with  many  promises  of  a  re- 
newed alliance.  He  abot  revealed 
kis  name  to  Moses,  and  gave  him  a 
strict  command  not  to  pronounce  it, 
80  that,  in  process  of  time,  the  true 
pronunciation  was  lost  From  the 
corruption  of  this  sacred  name, 
sprang  the  JUHA  of  the  Moors,  the 
JupiTBR  of  the  Romans,  and  others 
•fa  like  nature. 

The  same  divine  history  particu- 
larly informs  us,  of  the  diflferent 
movemefits  of  tlie  Israelites  until 
they  became  possessed  of  the  land 
(^  promise,  and  of  the  succeedmg 
events,  until  the  Divine  Providence 
was  nleased  to  give  the  sceptre  to 
Davra,  who  though  fully  determin- 
ed to  build  a  temple  to  the  Most 
High,  could  never  begin  it;  that 
honour  being  reserved  for  his  son. 

Solomon,  being  the  wisest  of| 
princes,  had  fully  m  remembrance 
the  promise  of  God  to  Moses,  that 
in  fulness  of  time  his  holy  name 
should  be  discovered.  And  his 
wisdom  inspired  him  to  believe, 
that  this  could  not  be  accomplished 
until  he  had  erected  and  consecra- 
ted a  temple  to  the  living  God,  in 
which  he  might  deposit  the  precious 
treasures.  The  Almighty  had  of 
^d  declared^  that  it  was  his  will  to 
^  JoiephussaySyihatoneofiAefe 
niUar9  uxu  standing  in  Ai>  time. 

Lib.  1   ch.  1 
t  Exod.  Hi.  14. 


dwell  in  a  fixed  temple  at  Jerusa« 
lem,*  and  promised  that  his  name 
would  be  there. 

Accordingly,  Solomon  began  to 
build  in  the  fourth  year  of  his  reign, 
agreeably  to  a  plan  given  him  by 
David,  his  father,  upon  the  ark  of 
alliance.     He  chose  a  spot  for  this 

(purpose  the  most  beautiful  and 
healthy  in  all  Jerusalem. 

You  have  been  already  informed 
that  the  temple  of  Solomon  was 
constructed  bythecrafl;  but  there 
are  some  particulars  respecting  it, 
with  which  you  are  not  yet  ac- 
quainted, uiformatlon  respecting 
certain  discoveries  that  were  made 
in  digging  for  a  foundation,  the  con* 
struction  of  the  secret  vault,  and  pil« 
lar  of  beauty,  and  teveral  interesting 
particulars  relative  to  nine  ar^es  of 
a  temple,  you,  ai  ^knight  of  the 
nintkardi^^  are  entitled  to  receive. 

The  secret  vault  was  afterwards 
called  the  <<  sacred  vault;"  a  place 
known  only  to  the  grand  elect  and 
•ublime  masters,  which  degree  was 
in  due  time  conferred  on  the  knights 
of  the  ninth  arch,  as  a  reward  for 
their  zeal,  constancy,  and  fidelity. 

The  number  of  the  grand  elect 
and  sublime  masters  was  at  first 
three,  and  was  afterwards  increased 
to  five,  and  so  continued  until  the 
temple  was  completed  and  dedica- 
ted. King  Solomon  then,  as  a  re* 
ward  for  their  faithful  services,  ad* 
mitted  to  this  degree  the  twelve 
grand  masters,  who  had  faithfully 
presided  over  the  twelve  tribes; 
also  one  other  grand  master  archi- 
tect. Nine  ancieitt  grand  masters, 
eminent  for  their  virtue,  were  chosen 
knights  of  the  ninth  arch  (afterwards 
called  royal  arch)  and  shortly  after 
were  admitted  to  the  sublime  de- 
gree of  perfection.  In  this  manner 
the  number  of  the  grand  elect  was 
augmented  to  twenty-seven,  which 
is  the  cube  of  three.      ••••••• 


1 


•  Deut.  xiij  II— 1  KinffiviHy  29, 

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MASONIC. 


The  emblems  of  this  degree  are, 
a  representation  of  nine  arches  un- 
der ground,  and  a  golden  delta  on  a 
triangular  pedestal. 

Closed  as  opened* 

« It  is  no  secret,  that  the  appro- 
priate name  of  God,  has  been  pre- 
ser>'ed  in  this  masonic  institution, 
in  every  country  where  masonry 
existed,  while  the  rest  of  the  world 
was  literally  sunk  in  heathenism.^' — 
S.  Town. 


XL    Perfection,    or  perfect 

grand  and  sublime  elect 

(or  select)  masons. 

The  lodge  of  perfection,  should 
represent  a  subterraneous  vauh, 
painted  red,  and  adorned  with 
many  colours,  and  columns  of  a 
flame  colour.  Behind  the  master 
must  be  a  light  to  shine  through  a 
triangular  sun;  and  before  him 
there  must  be  apedestal  appearing 
to  be  broken.  There  ought  to  be 
several  other  lights,  arranged  nu- 
merically, according  to  the  different 
stages  of  masonry. 

The  most  perfect,  grand  elect 
ancl  sublime  master,  in  this  degree, 
is  to  represent  Solomon,  seated  in 
the  east,  dressed  in  royal  robes,  and 
having  a  crown  and  sceptre  placed 
on  a  pedestal  before  him.  The  two 
grand  wardens  are  seated  in  the 
west  Os  the  right  hand  of  the 
most  perfect  sits  the  grand  treasurer, 
having  a  table  before  him,  upon 
which  must  be  placed  some  per- 
fumes, with  a  small  silver  hod,  and 
a  trowel  of  gold.  On  his  left  hand 
sits  the  grand  secretary,  with  a  table 
also  before  him,  on  which  mpst  be 
seven  loaves  of  shew  bread,  with  a 
cup  of  red  wine  for  libation,  and  also 
jewels  for  the  candidates  at  their 
reception. 

The  jewels  appertaining  to  this 
degree  are  a  crowned  compass,  ex- 
tended to  ninety  degrees;  or,  a 
quadrant,  a  sunin  the  centre;  and 


on  tlie  reverse,  a  blazing  star,  en- 
closing a  triangle,  hung  to  a  broad 
Oame  coloured  ribbon,  of  a  triangu- 
lar form,  round  the  neck  ;  and  also, 
a  gold  ring  with  this  motto,  "  Virtoe 
unites  what  death  cannot  part.^' 

The  apron  must  be  flamed  with 
red,  a  dark  blue  ribbon  round  the 
edge,  and  the  jewej  painted  on  tlie 
flap.  The  brethren  must  be  dressed 
in  black,  with  swords  in  their  hands. 

Opened  by  four  mystic  numbers. 

The  following  passages  from  the 
Psalms,  may  be  read  at  opening : 

<<  Sing  unto  the  Lord,  sing  praises 
unto  his  name :  extol  htm  that  ri- 
detli  upon  the  heavens  by  his  name 
J  AH,  and  rejoice  before  him." — Ps. 
Ixviii,  4. 

"The  Lord  reigneth,  let  the  pee- 
pie  tremble :  he  sitteth  between  the 
cherubims,  let  the  earth  be  moved. 
The  Lord  is  great  in  Zton,  and  ba 
is  high  above  all  people.  Let  them 
praise  thy  great  attd  terrible  name, 
I  for  it  is  holy."— Ps,  xdx,  1 — 3. 

"  I  will  sing  of  mercy  and  judg^ 
ment :  unto  thee,  O  Lord,  will  I  sing. 
I  will  behave  myself  wisely  in  a  per- 
fect way.  O  I  when  wilt  thou  come 
unto  me  ?  I  will  walk  within  my 
house  with  a  perfect  heart.  I  wffl 
set  no  wicked  thing  beAire  mine 
eyes ;  J  hate  the  work  of  them  that 
turn  aside,  it  shall  not  cleave  to  me. 
A  froward  heart  shall  depait  firom 
me;  I  will  not  know  a  wicked  per 
son.  Whoso  privily  slandereth  his 
neighbour,  him  will  I  cut  ofi*:  has 
that  liath  an  high  look  and  aprood 
heart  will  not  I  suflTer.  Mine  eyes 
shall  be  upon  the  faithful  of  the 
land,  that  diey  may  dwell  with  me  : 
he  that  walketh  in  a  perfect  way,  be 
shall  serve  me.  He  that  woricetb 
deceit  shall  not  dwell  within  my 
house ;  he  that  telleth  lies  shall  not 
tarry  in  my  sight.  I  will  eaiiy  de- 
stroy all  the  wkked  c^  the  land, 


MASONIC. 


205 


tbat  I  may  cut  off  all  wicked  doers  [j 
from  the    city    of  the     Lord."— 
Psalin  ci.  x 

Prayer  to  be  used  after  the  intro- 
duction of  the  candidate : 

"  Almighty  and  sovereign  architect 
of  heaven  and  earth,  who,  by  thy 
divine  power,  dost  ultimately  search 
the  most  secret  recesses  of  thought, 
purify  our  hearts  by  the  sacred  fire 
of  thy  love;  guide  us  by  thine  uner- 
ring hand  in  the  path  of  virtue,  and 
cast  out  of  thine  adorable  sanctuary 
all  impiety  and  perversencss.  May 
the  "  mysterious  inscription"  settle 
in  our  minds  a  true  notion  of  thine 
unspeakable  essence  and  power; 
and  as  we  preserve  the  memorials 
of  the  revelation  of  ^tliy  holy  name, 
so  may  we  preserve  the  memorials 
of  thy  fear,  and  the  indelible  charac- 
ters of  thine  unutterable  essence 
upon  our  hearts.  We  beseech  thee, 
that  our  thoughts  may  be  engaged 
in  the  grand  work  of  our  perfection, 
which,  when  attained,  will  be  an 
ample  reward  for  our  labour;  let 
peace  and  charity  link  us  together  in 
a  pleasing  union,  and  may  this  lodge 
exhibit  a  faint  resemblance  of  that 
happiness  which  the  elect  will  enjoy 
in  thy  kingdom.  Give  us  a  spirit  of 
holy  discrimination,  by  which  we  may 
be  able  to  refuse  the  evil  and  choose 
the  good ;  and  also  that  we  may  not 
be  led  astray  by  those  who  unwor- 
thily assume  the  character  of  the  grand 
elect.  Finally,  be  pleased  to  grant, 
that  all  our  proceedings  may  tend  to 
thy  glory,  and  our  advancement  in 
righteousness.  Bless  us  and  prosper 
our  works,  O  Lord  I  Araen." 

The  passages  of  scripture  which 
follow,  are  appropriate  to  this  de- 
gree, and  may  be  introduced  during 
the  ceremony  of  initiation. 

"  Behold  how  good  and  pleasant 
it  is,  for  bretlnren  to  dwell  together 
in  unity.  It  is  like  the  precious 
ointment  upon  the  head,  tJiat  ran 
down  upon  the  beard^  even  Aaron'st 


beard,  that  went  down  to  the  skirts 
of  his  garment." — Ps.  ckxxiii,  1,  2. 

"Ointment  and  perfume  rejoice 
the  heart,  so  doth  the  sweetness  of  a 
man's  friend  by  hearty  counsel." 
Pro  v.  xxvii,.9. 

"Let  him  reprove  me,  it  shall  be 
an  excellent  oil,  which  shall  not 
break  my  head." — Ps.  cxli,  5. 

After  certain  solemn  forms^  the 
master  of  ceremonies  says, 

"  I  impress  you,  my  brother,  with 
an  ardent  zeal  for  the  honour  of  the 
Grand  Architect  of  the  Universe;  to 
the  end  that  you  may  live  always  in 
his  adorable  presence,  with  a  heart 
disposed  to  every  thing  that  is  pleas- 
ing to  him." 

The  most  perfect  then  presents 
the  candidate  with  the  bread  and  wine, 
saying,  "  Eat  of  this  bread  with  me, 
and  drink  of  the  same  cup,  that  we 
may  learn  thereby  to  succour  each 
other  in  time  of  need  by  a  mutual 
love,  and  participation  of  what  we 
possess."  He  then  presents  to  him  a 
gold  ring, saying,  "Receive  this  ring, 
and  let  it  be  remembered  by  you  as 
a  symbol  of  the  alliance  you  have 
now  contracted  with  virtue,  and  the 
virtuous.  You  are  never,  my  dear 
brother,  to  part  with  it  whilst  you 
live;  nor  to  bequeath  it  at  your 
death,  except  to  your  wife,  your  eld- 
est son,  or  your  nearest  friend." 

When  this  part  of  the  ceremony  is 
ended,  the  brethren  make  a  libatioD| 
according  to  ancient  usage 

The  most  perfect  then  decorates 
the  candidate  according  to  the  orna* 
ments  of  the  order,  saying,  "  I  now 
with  the  greatest  pleasure  salute  you^ 
my  brother,  as  a  grand  elect,  perfect, 
and  sublime  mason,  which  title  I  now 
confer  on  you,  and  grace  you  with 
the  symbols  thereof.  Receive  this 
ribbon,  the  triangular  figure  of  which 
is  emblematical  of  tlie  divine  triangle. 
The  crown  upon  your  jewel  is  a 
symbol  of  the  royal  origin  of  this  de- 
gree. The  compass,  extended  to 
ninety  degrees,  denotes  the  extensive 


206  MASONIC. 

knowledge  of  the  gmndckct.  These 
jeweU,  Biwpfended  on  your  breait, 
should  make  you  attentWe  to  your 
duty  and  station.^* 

Charge. 

Thu«,  my  venerable  brother,  by 
your  unblamable  conduct,  assiduity, 
constancy,  and  integrity,  yoo  have 
at  last  attained  the  title  of  grand  elect, 
perfect,  and  sublime  mason,  which  is 
the  summit  of  ancient  masonry,  and 
upon  your  arrival  to  which,  I  most 
sincerely  congratulate  you. 

I  must  earnestly  recommend  to  you 
the  strictest  care  and  circumspection 
in  all  your  conduct,  that  the  sublime 
mysteries  of  this  degree  be  not  pro- 
faned or  disgraced. 

As  to  what  remains  of  completing 
your  knowledge  in  the  ancient  state 
of  masonry,  you  will  find  it  by  at 
tending  to  the  following 

When  Ihe  lempte  of  Jerusalem  was 
finished,  the  masons  who  were  em- 
ployed in  constructing  that  stately 
edifice,  acquired  immortal  honour. 
Their  order  became  more  uniformly 
established  and  regulated  than  it  had 
been  before.  Their  delicacy  in  ad- 
mitting new  members  of  their  order, 
brought  it  to  a  degree  of  respect ;  as 
the  merit  of  the  candidate  was  the 
only  thing  they  then  paid  attention 
to.  With  these  principles  instilled 
into  their  minds,  many  of  the  grand 
elect  left  the  temple  after  its  dedi- 
cation, and  dispersed  themselves 
among  the  neighbouring  kingdoms, 
instructing  all  who  applied,  and 
were  found  worthy,  in  the  suUime 
degrees  of  ancient  craft  masonry. 

The  temple  was  finished  in  the 
year  of  the  world  3000. 

Thus  far  the  wise  king  of  Israel 
behaved  worthy  of  himself,  and 
gained  universal  admiration;  but, 
in  process  of  time,  when  he  had  ad- 
vanced in  years,  his  understanding 
became  impaired;  he  grew  deaf  to 
the  voice  of  the  Lord,  and  was 


strangely  irregular  in  hia  conduct. 
Proua  of  having  erected  an  edifice 
to  his  Maker,  and  much  intoxicated 
with  his  great  power,  he  plunged 
into  all  manner  of  lioentiousneas' 
and  debauchery,  and  profaned  the 
temple,  bv  offering  that  incense  to 
the  idol- Moloch,  which  only  should 
have  been  offered  to  the  living 
God, 

The  grand  elect  and  perfect  ma- 
sons saw  this,  and  were  sorely 
grieved;  being  fearful  that  his  sqpos- 
tacy  would  end  in  some  dreadfid 
consequences,  and  perhaps  bring 
upon  them  their  enemies,  whom  So- 
lomon had  vainly  and  wantonly  de- 
fied. The  people,  copying  the  fol- 
lies and  vices  of  their  king,  became 
proud  and  idolatrous,  neglecting  the 
true  worship  of  God,  for  that  of 
idols. 

As  an  adequate  pumshment  for 
this  defection,  God  inspired  th& 
heart  of  Nebuchadnezzar,  king  of 
Babylon,  to  take  vengeance  on  the 
km^om  of  Israel.-  This  priftce 
sent  an  army,  with  Nebuzaradan, 
captain  of  the  guards,  who  entered 
Judah  with  fire  and  sword,  took  and 
sacked  the  city  of  Jerusalem,  razed 
its  walls,  and  destroyed  that  superb 
model  of  excellence,  the  tensile. 
The  people  were  carried  captive  to 
Babylon,  and  the  conquerors  carried 
with  them  all  the  vessels  of  gold 
and  silver,  &c.  This  happened  470 
years,  6  months  and  10  days  after 
its  dedication. 

When  the  time  arrived  ^at  the 
Christian  princes  entered  into  a 
league  to  free  the  holy  land  from 
the  oppression  of  the  infidels,  the 
good  and  virtuous  masons,  anxious 
lor  so  pious  an  undertaking,  vohHir 
taril^  offered  their  services  to  the 
cmifederates,  on  condition  that  they 
should  have  a  chief  of  their  owa 
election,  which  was  granted;  ac- 
cordingly they  accept^  their  stand- 
ard, and  departed. 

The  valour  and  fortitude  of  those 
elected  knights  was  such,  that  they 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


HASONIC. 


207 


were  admired  by,  and  took  the  lead 
of,  all  the  princes  of  Jerusalem, 
who,  believmg  that  their  mysteries 
inspired  them  with  courage  and  fide- 
lity to  the  cause  of  virtue  and  reli- 
gion, became  desirous  of  being  ini- 
tiated; upon  being  found  worthy, 
their  desires  were  complied  with, 
and  thus  the  royal  art,  meeting 
the  approbation  of  great  and  good 
men,  became  popular  and  honour- 
able,  and  was  diffused  to  the  worthy, 
throughout  their  various  dominions, 
and  has  continued  to  spread,  far 
and  wide,  through  a  succession  of 
ages,  to  the  present  day. 

ODE, 

Far  a  P.  G.  E.  and  S.  Mason. 

TuVE— Fsw  Hafpt  Matches. 

No  solar  beam,  Hor  lunar  ray, 
Illumed  the  dark  and  narrow  way 
That  led  mt  to  li^  d^or  ; 

I  prov'd  myself  a  Knight/  and  then 
The  aaertd  vault  I  enter'd  in 
By  mystic  numbtnfow. 

'Twas  there  impress'd  wUb  holy  awe, 
A  gold  engraTen  plate  I  saw 

With  dazzling  splendour  shine. 
To  us  "  the  grand  elect"  alone 
Its  secret  characters  are  known, 

Jn^abU  divine. 

This  precious  treasure  long  conceaPd, 
Was  by  three  worthy  knights  reveard 

Where  erst  a  temple  stood : 
fts  ancient  ruins  they  explored, 
And  found  the  grand  mvsterious  word 

Made  known  before  the  flood. 

Fulflird  was  then  the  promise  made ; 
'  And  beauty's  piliar  soon  display 'd 

The  treasure  they  had  found : 
Their  ardent  zeal,  fidelity, 
Their  dangVous  toils  and  constancy, 

Were  with  due  honours  crown'd. 

Honours  like  those,  we  all  shall  prove 
Who  join'd  in  peace  and  social  love, 

Perfection's  work  pursue: 
May  the  sublime  Grand  Architect, 
By  his  unerring  hand,  liirect 

The  honour'd  cfyosm  few. 

May  all  who  frienJsfiip^s  feast  partakCj 
The  good  pursue,  the  bad  torsakd  ; 
And  may  each  rite  and  sign, 

*  Knight  of  the  Ninth- Arch. 


A  happy,  lasting  inftuenee  shed ; 
The  quadrant  crown'd,  the  Qil,the  bread, 
The  golden  ring,  the  wtne. 

Lone  as  I  live  this  ring  111  we«r« 
Symbol  of  an  alliance  dear 

To  every  brother's  heart ; 
And  bless  the  sacred  tie  that  binds 
In  virtue's  chain,  for  **  virtue  joint 

What  death  ean  never  part.'' 

Closed  as  opened* 

Third.  Detached  degnees  bar* 
ing  a  connectkm  with  the  ineffal>W 
degrees. 

1.  Grand  pATRiAEctt. 

The  following  passages  of  8cri|^ 
ture  are  illustrative  of  this  degree  : 

'<  And  Esau  hated  Jacoh,  because 
of  the  blessing  wherewith  his  father 
blessed  him :  and  Esau  said  in  his 
heart,  The  days  of  mourning  for 
my  father  are  at  hand,  then  will  I 
slay  my  brother  Jacob. 

And  these  words  of  Esau  her  eld* 
er  son  were  told  to  Rebekah.  And 
she  sent  and  called  Jacob  h«r  youn- 
ger son,  and  said  unto  him,  Behold, 
thy  brother  Esau,  as  touching  thee, 
doth  comfort  himselfy  purposing  to 
kill  thee. 

Now,  therefore,  my  son,  obey  my 
voice;  and  arise,  flee  thou  to  Laban 
my  brother,  to  Haran ; 

And  tarry  with  him  a  few  days^ 
until  thy  brother's  fury  turn  away.'' 
Qen.  xxvii,  41-^4« 

**  And  Jacob  went  out  from  Beer- 
sheba,  and  went  toward  Haran. 

And  he  lighted  upon  a  certain 
place,  and  tarried  there  all  night, 
because  the  sun  was  set:  and  he 
took  of  the  stones  of  that  place,  and 
put  them  for  bis  pillows,  and  lay 
down  in  that  place  to  sleep. 

And  he  dreamed,  and,  behold,  a 
Udder  set  upon  the  earth,  and  the 
top  of  it  reached  to  heaven ;  and, 
behold,  the  angels  of  God  ascending 
and  descending  on  it. 

And^  behold,  the  Lord  stood 
above  it,  and  said,  I  am  the  Lord 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


208 


MASOXIC. 


God  of  Abraham  thy  father^  and 
the  God  of  Isaac :  the  land  whereon 
thou  liest,  to  tliee  will  I  give  it,  and 
to  thy  seed ; 

And  thy  seed  shall  be  as  the  dust 
of  the  earth;  and  thou  shalt  spread 
abroad  to  the  west,  arid  to  the  east, 
and  to  the  north,  and  to  the  south : 
lind  in  thee,  and  in  thy  seed,  shall  all 
the  families  of  the  earth  be  blessed. 

And,  behold,  I  am  with  thee,  and 
will  keep  thee  in  all  places  whither 
thou  goest,  and  wi]l  bring  thee  again 
into  this  land ;  for  I  will  not  leave 
thee,  until  I  have  done  that  which  I 
have  spoken  to  thee  of. 

And  Jacob  awaked  out  of  his 
sleep,  and  he  said.  Surely  tlie  Lord 
is  in  this  place,  and  I  knew  it  not. 

And  he  was  afraid,  and  said,  How 
dreadful  is  this  place !  this  is  none 
other  but  the  house  of  God,  and  this 
is  the  gate  of  Leaven. 

And  Jacob  rose  up  early  in  the 
morning,  and  took  the  stone  that  he 
had  put  for  his  pillows,  and  set  it  up 
for  a  pillar,  and  poured  oil  upon  the 
top  of  it 

And  he  called  the  name  of  that 
place  Bethel;  but  the  name  of  that 
city  was  called  Luz  at  the  first." — 
Gen.  xxviii,    10—20. 

For  the  Masonic  Register. 
THE  CHRISTIAN  MASON. 

NO.  X. 

BY  companion  SAMUEL  WOODWORTH. 

The  fourth  degree  of  masonry, 
called  the  Mark  Degree^  throws  a 
new  and  wonderful  light  on  the  three 
former  degrees.  The  enlightened 
mason,  now  perceives,  for  the  first 
time,  the  true  nature  and  character 
of  the  Being,  whom  it  is  his  highest 
duty  to  love  and  worship.  The  two 
great  luminaries,  mentioned  in  the 
M osaical  account  of  ihe  fourth  day 
of  creatiofiy  are  now  lighted  up  in 
his  will  and  under  it  andingy  by  the 
light  of  which  he  sees  clearly  that 
Jesus   Christ    is     anointed   king 


overUrael;  that  he  is  "God  ov« 
all,  blessed  for  ever ;'' and  that  «a 
sceptre  of  righteousness  is  the  scep- 
tre of  his  kingdom.^'  The  candi- 
date is  no^  hiade  to  feel  and  cotf- 
fess^  that  "  this  is  the  9tone  which 
the  Jewish  builders  refected,  but 
which  has  now  become  the  head  of 
the  comer.''.  Filled  with  reverence 
and  humility,  he  falls  prostrate  at 
the  altar,  and  renews  his  covenant 
of  obedience  and  fdeUty, 

^<  And  Hiram,  king  of  TjTe,  sent 
his  servants  unto  Solomon,  for  he 
had  heard  that  they  hadanoiniedwa 
kingy  in  the  room  of  his  father, 
and  Hiram  was  ever  a  lover  of  Da- 
vid.'' And  the  servants  of  Hiram 
co-operated  with  the  servants  of  So- 
lomon, in  prepanng  timber  and 
stones  to  build  the  temple  at  Jeru- 
salem. "And  Solomon^ 8  hmlderf 
and  Hiram^s  bidders  did  hew  them, 
and  the  stonesquarers ;  so  they 
prepared  timber  and  stones  to  buikt 
the  house," 

By  this  instructive  lesson,  the  de- 
lighted mason  is  taught  that  the 
human  mind  consists  of  two  parts, 
the  will  and  tlie  understanding;  the 
former  being  the  seat  of  the  tifec- 
tionsy  and  the  latter  of  the  thougi^. 
He  is  informed,  farther,  that  the 
affections  of  the  will  form  a  king- 
dom by  themselves,  termed,  in  ma- 
sonic language,  Israel  and  Jerusa- 
lem; while  the  thoughts,  truths, 
and  knowledges  of  the  understand' 
ingy  form  another  kingdom,  called 
Tyre.  When  the  understanding  is 
stored  and  enriched  with  spiri^iial 
truths  from  the  word  of  God,  such 
truths  are  called  "the  merchandise 
of  TVre,  which  shall  be  Holiness  to 
the  Lorky  The  great  «id  of  ma- 
sonry is  to  produce  regeneratioa; 
that  is,  to  purify  the  wiUy  and  make 
it  a  fit  ^  tfltnple  for  the  living  God.^' 
To  efiect  this  end,  the  understand- 
ing must  co-operate  with  all  its  pow- 
ers^ and  faculties.  The  builders  of  Hi- 
ram must  labour  with  the  builders  of 
Solomon  ;  (tnd  the  stone  and  the  tim- 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


her  mu9t  he  sent  np  io  Jerusalem, 
In  other  words,  the  spiritual  truths 
of  the  understanding  J  must  be  ele« 
vated  into  the  wilL 

When  Hiram  hears  that  the  Son 
of  David  is  anointed  king  at  Jerur 
•salemy  he  rejoices,  and  prepares  to 
co-operate  with   him  in  the  great 
work   he    has  projected.      Or,  as 
the  enlightened  mason  understands 
these  words,  when  the  affections  of 
the  wili  are  directed  to  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,    as  their  king  and 
their  God,  then  the  understanding 
voluntarily    yields    all  its  spiritual 
treasures  as  an  appropriate  offering 
for  the  temple  about  to  be  erected. 
The  powers  and  faculties  of  the  im- 
tJerstanding  co-operate  with  those 
«f  the  willy  while  they,  in  return,  re- 
ceive spiritual  nourishment  from  the 
Lord,  tlirough  the  medium  of  his 
"word.     Thus  the  servants  of  Hiram 
labour  with  tlie  servants  of  Solomon, 
while  Solomon  supplies  with  food 
the  household  of  Miram. 

But  tliis  is  not  all.      The  enlight- 
ened mason,  on  entering  this  de- 
gree, is  taught,  further,  that  "  the 
kingdom  of  Ileaveny  (which  is  estab- 
lished in  the  mind  of  every   true 
penitent)  is  like  unto  a  man  that  is 
an  householder  J  which  wenl  ord  early 
in  the  morning  to  hire  lahourers  into 
his  vineyardP      He  is  also .  made 
sensible  that  the  householder  is  no 
other  than  the  Son  of  David  ;  the 
king  of  Isrciel ;  the  great  Architect 
of  the  spiritual«temple ;  ^<  the  only 
wise  God  our  Saviour ;"  th^  Lord 
Jesus    Christ,   "whose    yoke    is 
easy,  and  whose  burden  is  light.'' 
The  candidate  rejoices  to  perceive 
that  he  has  been  hired  as  a  labourer 
in  this  spiritual  vineyard,  and  that 
his  reward  will  be  proportioned  (not 
to  tlie  length  of  time  he  has  labour- 
ed) but  to  the  fdclity  with  which  he 
has  performed  his  allotted  duties. 
Under  this  assurance,  he  learns  to 
be  content  with  that  measure  of  the 
divine  grace  and  mercy  which  is  im- 
parted to  him  by  his  Heavenly  Fa- 

voL.  u.  sr 


MASONJC,  '  20^ 

ther;  because, in  all  sueh  grace  and 
mercy,  to  whomsoever  it  is  given, 
there  is  contained  an  tn^mVy  ^ 
blessing  ;  and,  therefore,  he  luis  no 
reason  either  to  repine  at  his  own 
lot„  or  to  envy  that  of  another.  He 
knows  that  it  is  impossible  for  any 
one  to  receive  more  than  an  infinite 
^ood^  and,  consequently^  that  every 
receiver  has  reason  to  be  fully  con- 
tented with  the  promised  recom- 
pense. "  They  received  every  man 
a  penny." 

The  young  recipient  of  the  spiri- 
tual mark  is  further  taught,  in  this 
degree,  that  those  who  cherish  hum- 
ble and  lowly  opinions  of  them- 
selves, are  exalted  in  the  divine  fa- 
vour and  mercy,  in  exact  propor- 
tion to  their  humihty;  and  that 
they  who  cherish  high  ideas  of  their 
own  merits,  and  think  to  gain  the 
highest  place  in  Heaven,  in  the 
way  o£  recompense  for  their  good 
works,  are  last  and  lowest  in  the 
divine  estimation.  In  short,  he  is 
made  sensibly  tofeelj  that "  the  first 
shall  be  last,  and  the  last  first'' 

Finally,  the  Christian  Mason  b 
instructed  by  appropriate  symbols, 
emblems,  and  correspondences,  that 
the  great  householder  calls  6n  everf 
man  to  turn  from  the  evil  of  his 
ways,  and  do  that  which  is  just  and 
right  ^  to  ^^  cease  to  do  evil,  and 
learn  to  do  weU."  For  (dl  who  pos- 
sess the  scriptures,  and  thereby  re- 
ceive the  knowledge  of  God  in  their 
understandings,  are  said  to  be  called^ 
and  are  very  many  ;  but,  alas !  few, 
comparatively,  very  fewj  so  far 
obey  the  precepts  of  divine  trutli 
contained  in  that  sacred  volume,  as 
to  become  regenerated  in  heart  and 
life;  and  none  but  the  regenerate 
will  be,  or  can  be,  chosen^  as  worthy 
and  accepted  members  of  the  gram 
lodge  above.  The  chosen,  there* 
fore,  are  those  who  receive  the  fot?c 
of  God  in  their  wiUs,  together  widi 
the  truth  of  God  in  Uieir  under' 
standings  ;  for  these  are  they  whom 
God  always  ch^ose^  as  being  in  most 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


210 


MAS0!?fC4 


agreement  with  the  purities  of  his 
own  love  and  mercy.  But  since 
this  love  of  God,  is  a  plant  of  rarer 
growth  than  the  ^notc/ec^eof  God, 
therefore  it  is  truly  said,  that 
*<  numy  are  called^  but  few  cho9enJ^ 


Orioinal  Extracts. 

We  have  been  permitted  by  the 
author,  to  make  the  following  ex- 
tracts from  an  address,  prepared  to 
be  delivered,  on  the  sudden  death  of 
a  companion,  of  this  city,  by  a  com- 
panion appointed  for  the  purpose; 
which  was  omitted  on  account  of  the 
suspension  of  tlie  regular  communi- 
cations of  the  chapters  during  the 
fever  last  summer. 

^*  There  frequently  is  a  richness 
and  excellence  in  the  lives  of  fa- 
mous and  eminent  men ;  they  shine 
as  great  lights,  as  stars  of  the  first 
magnitude ;  but  when  they  are  pla- 
ced so  far  beyond  our  own  sphere, 
tliey  rather  dazzle  than  improve, 
and  are  more  easily  admired  than 
imitated.  The  brightest  pattern  of 
of  every  thing  great,  and  good, 
amongst  men,  and  who  is  acknow- 
ledged such  by  the  whole  Christian 
world,  was  poor;  so  poor,  that  he 
had  not  where  to  lay  his  head. 

*'  There  are  men,  surrounded  with 
wealth,  and  covered  with  honours, 
who  yet  have  little  of  the  love  of 
their  neighbour  in  their  hearts;  but 
rather  look  down  with  contempt  on 
those  whom  fortune  has  placed  in 
the  humble  walks  of  life.  There 
are  men  in  whose  hands  Providence 
has  placed  the  means  of  doing  much 
to  benefit  mankind;  yet,  although 
they  know  it  and  love  to  tell  it  to  the 
world;  although  they  talk  much,  do 
little,  and  that  little  merely  to  grati- 
fy their  vanity;  if  they  give  a  liber- 
^•i?^'  they  first  consider  where  it 
Will  be  most  admired^   not  where 


most  needed.  Than  such  proud 
boasters,  far  better  is  the  man  who 
walks  in  the  integrity  of  his  heart, 
and  with  industry  aiid  cheerfulne^ 
labours  for  his  daily  bread." 

^<How  amiable  is  charity!  like 
the  rose  of  summer,  though  the 
stem  that  bore  it  may  decay; 
though  the  ice-cold  hand  of  death 
may  stop  the  fountain  of  life;  its 
sweetness  never  fails.  Blessed  is 
the  man  in  whose  bosom  are  the 
springs  of  this  divine  virtue.  A 
virtue  which  not  only  secures  to  the 
possessor,  that  inward  satisfaction 
which  always  follows  goodness,  but 
which  has  the  promise  of  a  more 
glorious  reward  in  reversion.  Few, 
alas!  how  few,  of  our  best  works  a£^ 
ford  us  pleasure  in  retrospection; 
but  charity  can  sooth  a^y ing  pillow. 
Charity  is  a  spark  of  Heavenly 
lighf,  tliat,  amidst  tlie  destruction  of 
all  earthly  hopes,  and  all  earthly 
comforts,  can  still  shed  a  cheering 
ray  upon  the  weary  traveller  ready 
to  perish  in  despair.  Charity  is  the 
certificate  by  which  a  mortal  may 
claim  a  kindred  with  the  skies,  and 
a  title  to  an  inheritance  incorrupti- 
ble, and  which  fadeth  not  away. 
Charity  is  every  man's  concern ;  for 
there  are  few  too  poor  to  be  chari- 
table, and  none  so  rich,  but  the%' 
may  stand  in  need  of  help.^ 


"What  need  we  any  other  re- 
commendation to  our  esteem,  than 
that  the  true  principles  of  our  onlex 
are  well  understood,  and  faithfully 
praqtised.  It  is  these  alone  that 
give  a  title  to  the  approbation  of 
masons,  for  although  other  "dis- 
tinctions must  exist  amongst  men,** 
to  preserve  good  order  in  society ; 
and  in  making  those  distinctions, 
men  may  be,  and  are  influenced  by 
many  motives,  yet  amongst  us,  there 
ought  to  be  but  one ;  that  is,  to  esti 
mate  justly  those  exceDences  whicli 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


are  current  amoni 
virtue  its  reward." 


St  usy  and  to  give 


MASONIC.  2^^ 

tempest ;  there  die  pale  lightning 


*    •    •   ♦. 


«  Eternal  Hope !  can  it  be  possi- 
ble, that  all  thy  promises  are  delii- 
sive  5  the  anticipated  joys  of  futuri- 
ty, the  reward  of  virtue,  an  endless 
being,  the  communion  of  congenial 
spirits;  are  all  these  delusions 5  are 
these  no  more  than  the  baseless  vi- 
sions of  a  fer\4d  mind  ?  No?  no ! 
we  are  not  thus  deceived.  Go, 
search  the  scriptures;  there  is  a 
pledge  to  secure  us ; 
immortality  are  brouj^ut  lu  u^m.. 


blastmg,   at 

his  flock, 

oak  which  oflfered 


there  liilfif  and 
brought  to  light; 
there  is  the  evidence  of  God  „  and 
men,  to  assure  and  encourage- us  5 
there  is  a  beacon,  sliining  with  a 
pure  and  steady  fire,  to  guide  and 
direct  us,  and  give  a  warning  of  tie 
dangers  of  the  way.  In  these  thing^s 
we  are 
not 

comes  the  expectants 
lity 

«  My  brethren,  let  the  sceptic 
doubt  the  truth  of  revelation; 
all  other  evidence  within  the  com- 
pass of  his  finite  faculties,  must 
terminate  in4oubt;  death  will  set 
him  right;  but  let  us  not  neglect  the 


darts  uDon  its  prev, 
once,  the  shepheird  and 
with  the  noble  a 
them  protection;  there  the  pesti- 
lence aj^sabrtod,  defying  resist- 
ance ; '  *^  interoperanoe  prepares 
the  treadierous  poison  in  the  cup  of 
pleasure,  allurrag  hersHly  victims  to 
untimely  graves.*' 

•   ••••••* 

."  Brethren,  let  us  remember  to 
"workrin  tliis  life  with  a  reference  to 
that  tirbich  ft  ttfcome;  and  whilst 
we  are  seekinff  after  words,  and 
s-words,  wilh  vhich  to  obtain  a 
iwkclge#f  tfie  mysteries  of  an-, 
tiqaUy^  let  us  n6t  negtect  t9  seek 
diligently  after  thsit  i^ord,  that  ines- 
timable napfte,  which  deprives  death 
and  }lie  grSive  of  their  power,  and 
which  secures  to  its  possessor  the 


ire  all  conc^ned,   though  we  R  wnicn  »«^"^7^,^  "J  ^^^^"^  £^; 
always  feel  as  much  so  %;  be4  greater  ^y'^^'^jfj^^^ 
es  the  expectants  of  im-morta-    and  bli«s,  upmterrupted  and  eter- 
►^   -       ,nal.". 


invitations  Heaven  gives  to  all,  nor 


GRAND  CHAPTER  OF   KEN- 
TWKY. 

For  the^  officers  of  the   grand 
chapter,  see  our  last  number,  page 

194 ''      - 
shut  our  hearts  aguiiist  the  twth,      -^  v   *        , 

nor  yet  delay  the  preparation.  *  Sutsord.inatjb  CuATTXM.^.if^^ 

*  Procrastination  U  the  thief  of  Mui*.'         At  theJastcJoetions  in  Kentucky, 
«  Theoccasion  of  this,  our  soleiim    i^^f^^oi^i^gx^mpiafians  were^ct- 
assembly,    is    another  warning  ta.  ^V^ffi<^fl^^ 


jfrepare  for  our  final  change. ,  When 
"tikrt-wiH  be,  we  know  noli  it  may 
rjbto  to-raorrow ;  perhaps  to-wht  the 
iffeeiseriger  may  be  fcent'toTis whh, 
the  final  summons;  ai^the*^^fr^t 
question  s^itb  each  01^  us  sboum  be, 
.  What,  nay  soul  I  would  O^tSyplacii.? 
At  Ibe  nicthes^  me  caanot  eicvspe 
,ion^)  no,  we  oaaxM^  f»cape  j  the 
emis^rfes  of  •  dem  :w  ^actd  i^t 
every  avenue;  they  lie fmnoei^  in 
our  pat& ;  thev  '^ovr  us  eVery  st^. 
There  the  bilfows  ctose  aroat^  their 
victinds;  there  death  makes  |iis  ap- 
proach amidst  the  hoirors  of  tne 


jApdngton  i£haptery  No,  1. 
James  JVtasdn  Pike, of  Lexington, 
most  «iXC|i]|«ivJ;(^  priest. 
Jobtt  WS^  excelliait  king. 
Caldi'  W«tey  Cloud,  excellent 

WWaWP*S;  Hum,  captain  of  the 
host; 

William  H..  Ratney,  principal  so- 
jounujir.  . 

David  A.  Saytie,  royal  arch  cap- 
tain. 

Rt^rt  M^Nkt,  Aird  grand  mas- 
ter, ^ 

Drgitized  by  VjOOQIC 


John  F.  Jenkim^  teeond  maid 
master. 

Joseph  L,  Maxwell,  firtt  grand 

master. 
Bemiet  Pemberton  Sanders,   of 

l-exington,  secretary. 
JaflMt  Graves,  treasurer. 
MatlMirion  Giron,  and  Benjamin 

Ayres,  stewards. 
John  Brennan,  C.  G.- 
Francis Walker,  sentinel. 

J\^^^^  Prte«^.-LJohn    TU- 


ICXSGKIC. 

Samuel  B.  Crodoett,  ^kd  grand 
master. 

Thomas  V.  Leofborrow,  second 
grand  master. 

John  Mcintosh,  firstgrand  master. 

Jacob  Swigert,  of  Frankfort,  se- 
cretary. 

Russel  Lewis,  treasurer. 

Daniel  Epperson,  C.  G. 

Littleberry  Batchelor,  steward 
and  sentinel.      . 

PaslHigk  PrieHs.— George  M. 


Shelkyvilk  CSUqi^,  Wbw  2. 

Wiffiatti-BeU,  of  Shelby  villi  most 
excellent  hie*  priest.      "*  ^    '- 
Joseph    W.   Knight,    exceUent 

James  Moore,  excelled  scribe. 
George  B.  Knight,  captain  of  the 

.   James    Bradshaw,  principal  so- 
journer. A'      »^ 

.    John  Scott,  royal  arch  captain. 

John  Scoggan,  third  grand  mas- 
ter. 

^  John  WiUett,  second  grand  mas- 
John  W,  Taylor,  first  grand  mas- 
ler. 

William  CardweU,  of  Shelby  viHe, 
secretary. 

John  Bradshaw,  treasurer. 

Aaron  Waters,  steward  and  sen- 
tinel 

Past   High     Priests. James 

Moore,  Benjamin  F.  Dupey,  Wil-[|  ^1 
ham  BeH,  ^ames  BradsW  and  ^^ 
John  Willett.  "     J'^ 

Franlfort  Chapter,  No.  3. 

Robert  Johnson,  of  Frankfiut, 
most  excellent  high  priest. 

Allen  F.  Macurdy^  excdlent  king. 

Lyddall  WiUiinson,  excellent 
scrtt^. 

John  Woods,  captain  of  the  host. 

Bei\jamin  Ely,  principal  sojourn- 
er* 

Oliver  G,  Waggener,  royal  arch 
captain,  '     ^ 


Sanviae  Chapter,  No.  4. 

David  G.  Cowan,  of  Danville^ 
most  excellent  high  priest. 

P.ireiser,jun.  excellent  king. 

M.  G.  Youse,  excellent  scribe. 

D.  A.-Russell,  captain  of  the  host. 

Frederick  Yeiser,  mriifcipal  so- 
journer. 

John  Fleece,  jun.  royal  arch  caiv 
tain.      ^  *^ 

A.  J.  Caldwell,  third  grand  ms^ 
ter. 

Thomas  Collms,  second   grand 
master* 
P»^id  Jones,  first  grand  master. 
John  Yeiser,  secretary. 

B.  H.  Perkins,  treasurer. 
Samuel  Parish,  C.  G. 
Robert  Russell,  steward  and  seiK 

tinel. 

LouisviUe  Cluster,  No.  5. 

Edward  Tyler,  jun,  of  Lottisvifiei 
most  excellent  high  priest 
Thomas  M^Clanahan,  excellent. 


John  Sutton,  excellent  scribe. 
IsaaorH.  Tyier,  captain  of  ^ 
host. 

Edmund  F.  Bainbhdge, ^principal 
sojourner. 

{lorace  B.  Hill,  royal  arch^cam* 
tain.' 

Samuel  S.  Druxy,  thiid  giand 
master. 

George  San^Mon,  second  grand 
master. 

Philip  R.  Thompson,  first  grand 
master. 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


Samuel  Didcinson,  of  Louisville, 
secretary. 

George  S.  Butler,  treasurer. 

Arad  Simons,  steward  and  senr 
tinel. 

Pmt    High    Priuis. Richard 

Ferguson,  and  Fruicis  Taylor, 

Webb  Chapter,  No.  6. 

Johi)  NPKinney,  jun.  of  Ver- 
sailles, most  excellent  high  priest.  -  | 

John  H.  Smith,  excellent  king. 

Robert  Crockett,  excellent  scribe. 

Philip  Swigert,  captain  of  the 
host. 

Innes  T.  Harris,  principal  so? 
joumer.  • 

Thomas  W.  Sellers,  royal  vch 
captain. 

LiOtte  Tillery,  thii'd  grand  mas- 
ter. 

John  T.  Parker,  second  grand 
master. 

John  Y.  Hiter,  first  grand  mas- 
ter- 
Andrew  B.  Hamilton,   of  Ver* 
aailles,  secretary. 

John  Buford,  treasurer. 

William  Steele,  jun.  C.  G. 

Samuel  Wixig6«^,  steward  .jaQ4i! 
^ntinel.  ^  ^if 

Past  High  Pnwl.— Thomas  P. 
Hart.  11 

Columbia  Chapiery  No.  7. 

William  Owens,  of  Columbia, 
most  excellent  high  priest. 

Nathan  Gaither,  excellent  king. 

Penjaroin  Bell,  excellent  scribe. 

-  John  Montgomery,  captain  of  the 

host.  • 

Thomas  Butler,  principal  so- 
journer. 

James  Bf^Crosky,  roysd  arch  cap- 
tain. 

Charles  Hayes,  third  grand  mas- 
ter. 

WiUiara  Minter,  second  grand 
master. 

George  Teisen  ftrst  grand  master. 

Benjamin  Selby,  secretary  and 
trettsurer.  , 

IS.  M  Waggener,  sentinel. 


MASONIC.  ^    _  3fif 

JRtfMeffvOtel^ap&N*,  No.  8. 

Anthony  Butler,  most  excellent 
high  priest. 

Samuel  H.  Curd,  excellent  king. ' 

William  L.  Sands,  excellent 
scribe. 

Samuel  A.  Rowen,  captain  of  the 
host. 

Daniel  Comfort,  principal  so- 
Ijoamer. 

Hen4{ey  W.  Moore,  royal  arch 
captain.- 

JohnRoSerts,  third  graad  master. 

WillianrC.  Donfey,  second^grand 
master.         .  < 

John  Breathitt,  iirstgrand  master. 

Augasthie  Byrne,  secretary. 

Charles  LoAand,  treasurer. 

Allen  Campbell,  steward  and 
sentineL  « 

Maysvitte  Cht^^,  U.  D. 

William  B.  Phillips,  most  excels 
lent  high  priest  ^ 

Samuel  Treat,  excellent  king. 

Samuel  January,  excellent  scribe. 

•  John  Fisher,  captain  of  the  host. 

Thornley  L.  White,  principal  so- 
journer. '    • 

Joseph  M'Clain,  royal  arch  cap- 
tain. 

.  L.  A.  M*Gliee,  third  grand  mas..  ' 
ter. 


William  Tinker,    second   grand 
Shepherd,    first 


master. 

Chauncey    B. 
grand  master. 

Thomas  J.  Barrien,  secretary. 

jBeiviamiti  Bayless,  treasurer. 

John  Chambers,  steward  and 
sentinel. 

New  Cattle  Chapter ^  U.  D. 

David  Wllite,  jun.  most  excellent 
high  priest. 

Robert  P.  Gist,  excellent  king. 

William  N.  Merewether,  excel- 
lent scribe. 

Edward  Branham,  captain  of  the 
host. 

John  W.  Brite,  principal  so« 
{joumer. 

Samuel  Todd,  royal  arch  captain. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


coond.  grand 


Piter  G.  Iti*  ir^ 

ter. 
Edward  C.Dranc, 

nasier.  ^     ^ 

William  Smith,  first  grand  mas- 

Sinclair  Kirtley,  of  Newcastle, 
iecretary. 

Daniel  ^ranmin,  treasurer. 

John  Rodman,  C.  G. 

Nicholas  L.  Oliver,  steward  and 
sentinel         \^     *-         if     * 

"  Dabiiey  Carr  Coibv.  of  Spring- 
field, moft  excellent  Ifi^  pwest.  «• 

Edward  Brisboc  Gaith^r,  excel- 
lent k!i^.  ' 

Martift  Hardin,  of  Washington 
county,  excellent  scribe. 

Martin  W.  Ewing,  captain  of  the] 
host. 

Joseph  G.  McClelland,  principal 
sojourner. 

JacMf  Jouitt,  royal  arch  captain. 

William  Morrison,  third  grand 
master.  • 

William  F.  Young,  second  grand 
master.  * 

Artluir  E.  Gibbons,  first  grand 

master.        '       _^ — .  \^ 

Maaifew  1^  Nante,  of  Spnng- 
field,  s^ctetary. 

Jack  Jouitt,  trcBjMrer. 

Lloyd  Ray,  C.  G-^ 

David  H.  Spears,  steward  and 
sentinel.  * 

Winchester  Chapter^  U.D. 

William  McMillan,  of  Clarke 
county,  most  excellent  high  priest. 

Asa  Kentucky  Lewis,  excellent 
king. 

John  D.  ^Thomas^  excellent 
scribe.        j^ 

'    Michael  Reynolds,  captain  of  the 
host. 

Asahel  A.  Hawks,  principal  so- 
journer. 

William  C.  Keas,  royal  arch  cap- 
tain. 

Lewis  Duncan,  third  grand  ma»* 
ter. 


MAJOKK. 

Anthony  Frame,  second  grand 
master. 

WiOJam  C.  Syropson,  first  grand 
master. 

J.  R.  Duncan,  of  Winchester, 
secretary. 

Willis  Collins,  treasurer. 

Alfred  Barnes,  steward  and  sen- 
tinel. 

f 

Mauk  LonoES. 


MaysviUe  Mark  Lodge,  No.  2. 

William  B.    Phillips,  worshipfiil 
master.' 
^WiUiam  Sutherland,  senior  ward- 

John  M.  Morton,  junior  warden. 
AlvinRailes,  secretary. 
John  W.  Lilliston,  treasurer. 
A.  M   January,  master  overseer. 
William  Corwine,  senior  overseer. 
W.  W.  Cutler,  junior  overseer. 
Lewis  Bridges,  steward  and  sen- 
tinel. 

Warren  Mark  Lodge,  No.  3. 

John  Williams,  worshipful  master. 

Daniel  P.  Mosley,  senior  warden. 

William  Bell,  junior  warden. 

AsUion-Gan^tt,  secretary. 

Fielding  A.  Combs,  treasurer. 

John  B.  Porter,  master  overseer. 

Moses  Grooms,  senior  overseer. 

Jeremiah  Spurgen,  junior  over- 
seer. 

James  Gatewood,  senior  deacon. 

Keni^  Farrow,  junior  deacon. 

Alexander  Connelly,  steward 
and  sentinel. 

•    ClarkMarkLo€fge^No.A. 

William  Tompkins,  wocdtipful 
mastec. 

John  Trott,  senior  warden. 

William  F.  Pratt,  junior  warden. 

Joseph  Danforth,  secretary. 

George  Sampson,  treasurer, 

W.  D.  Payne,  master  overseer. 

Isaac  Stewart,  junior  overseer. 

David  C.Pinkham,  junior  deacen. 

Elias  H.  Compton,  steward  and 
sentind. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MASOKIC. 


215 


CyntUana  Mark  Lodgc^  No.  5. 

James  Pomeroy,  worshipful  mas- 
ter* 

Thomas  B.  Woodyard,  senior 
warden. 

Jonathan  IL  Dearborn,  junior 
warden. 

Wesley  Broadwell,  secretary.    • 

Thomas  Ware,  treasurer. 

Joseph  Taylor,  master  overs^r. 

John  Stewart,  senior  overseerl 

Benjamin  Philbrick,  junior  over- 
9Ccr> 

Samuel  Kimbrough,  senior  dea- 
con. 

Napoleon  B.  Coleman,  junior 
deacon. 

Uriah  H.  Woodyard,  steward  and 
seiitineL 

Rural  Mark  Lodge j  U,  D. 

Robert  J.  Brcckenridge,  worship- 
ful master. 

Thomas  M.  Allen,  senior  warden. 

Thomas  A.  Russell,  junior  ward- 
en, pro.  tern. 

John  M.  Taylor,  secretary. 

Samuel  M.  Grant,  treasurer. 

Thomas  A.  Russell,  master  over- 
seer. 

Henry  E.  Innes,  senior  overseer. 

James  Taylor,  junior  overseer. 

Jaracs  Whitcomb,  senior  deacon, 
pro.  tern. 

James  Innes,  junior  deacon. 

Samuel  Henderson,  sentinel. 

Richmond  Mark  Lodge^  U.  D. 

Daniel  Breck,  worshipful  master. 

John  Tribble,  senior  warden. 

John  R.  Patrick,  junior  warden. 

John  L.  Price,  secretary. 

Richard  G.  Williams,  treasurer. 

Oliver  Anderson,  master  overseer. 

David  Irwin,  senior  overseer. 

William  Jones,  junior  overseer. 

Joseph  Turner,  senior  deacon. 

Thomas  M.  Sinclair,  junior  dea; 
con. 

Cornelius  Homan,  steward  and 
sentinel. 


BEAUTIES  OP  YATES. 

The  following  extracts  are  from 
an  oration  delivered  at  Schenecta- 
dy, by  our  worthy  brother,  and  ex- 
cellent companion  Giles  F.  YaI**- 
The  whole  production  is  excellent ; 
btit  our  limits  con^e  us  to  a  few  of 
the  most  prominent  passages : 

"Although  the  aspersions  cast 
upon  freemasons,  as  it  regards  the 
tendency,  design,  and  principles  of 
their  institution,  are  ungenerous, 
and  unfounded;  yet  it  must  be  con- 
fessed, that  thtty  have,  in  some  in- 
stances, justly  incurred  censure  for 
admitting  into  the  penetralia  of  their 
temple,  unworthy  members,*  and 
permitting  such  to  continue  their 
unhallowed  and  unprofitable  la^ 
hours.  Lodges  have,  in  too  many 
instances,  countenanced  the  admis- 
sion of  those,  who,  to  use  a  masonic 
phrase,  being  "neither  oblong  nor 
squarey^  were  unfit  materials  for 
the  masonic  edifice,  and  deserved  a 
place  only  among  the  rubbish  of  the 
world.  But  it  should  be  remem- 
bered, that  whenever  they  are  guilty 
of  such  conduct,  they  act  in  direct 
violation  of  theu"  most  solemn  trust. 
They  do  not  "wart  welif  the  enier- 
ine  in  of  the  house,  with  every 
gomg  forth  of  the  sanctuary." 

"  It  is  not  denied,  that  objections 
may  be  brought  against  the  charac- 
ter of  some  of  the  members  of  our 
institution;  for,  considering  the  vast 
numbers  which  compose  it,  and  the 
few  who  rightly  understand  its  prin- 

*  I  am  credibly  informed,  thai 
this  evil  prevails  to  a  greater  extent 
in  this  country  J  than  on  the  eastern 
continent.  Some  of  the  lodges  there ^ 
do  not  admit  candidates  until  after 
jive  or  six  months  probation;  and 
not  even  tll^,  unless  a  committee 
appointed  for  the  purpose^  report 
favourably  on  oath. 

t  Ezeh  xHvj  5. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


ZiA  liiAsomc. 

ciples,*  it  would  be  extraordinary 
indeed  if  there  were  none  among 
them  whose  characters  were  excep- 
tionable :  but  these  objections,  as  a 
matter  of  consequence,  apply  not  to 
the  institution  itself.  Is  a  deviation 
from  the  principles  of  the  Christian 
religion  on  tlie  part  of  its  professors, 
an  argument  against  that  religion  ? 
Tell  me,  ought  all  the  apostles  to  be 
stigmatized,  because  a  denying  Pe- 
ter, and  a  traitorous  Judas,  ranked 
among  them  ?  or  yonder  domestic 
circle,  because  one  of  its  inmates 
has  forsaken  the  path  of  rectitude  ? 
The  ready  answer,  dictated  by  rea- 
son and  candour,  is  no.  And  let 
the  same  candour  and  reason  dictate 
an  answer  to  the  question,  ought  the 
wliole  masonic  brotherhood  to  be 
criminated,  because  some  of  them 
have  deviated  from  the  rules  of  the 
ttBii}  Perfection  dwelb  not  on 
earth;  she  inhales  the  atmosphere 
of  a  porer  region !  A  perfect  so- 
ciety then,  here  below,  is  as  mere  a 
chimera  as  perfect  virtue,  or  "  per- 
petual motion ;"  and  the  society  of 
freemasons  claims  no  exemption 
from  that  imperfection  and  frailty, 
which  the  great  Architect  of  the 
Universe  has  stamped  upon  all 
things  beneath  the  sun. 

"  I  confidently  assert,  and  trutli 
bears  me  out  in  the  assertion,  that 
the  objections  urged  against  our 
fraternity,  where  they  do  not  arise 
from  malice  or  blind  prejudice,  ori* 
ginatetem  ignorance  of  our  princi- 

♦  The  prejudices  against  the 
crafty  may  he  attributed^  in  no  small 
degree,  to  the  assertions  of  some  of 
its  unenlightened  members,  who  de- 
nounce what  they  cannot  compre* 
hend.  As  the  most  beautiful  colours 
are  not  seen  by  the  blind  man,  when 
presented  to  him,  and  as  the  most 
melodious  sounds  are  lost  upon  the 
ear  of  him  who  is  ieaff  so  are  they 
unable  to  comprehend  the  beauty  of 
our  allegories,  and  the  harmony  of 
our  principles. 


pies.  Shodd  an  illiterate  man  m- 
sert  that  all  learning  was  unneces- 
sary, you  surely  wouW  hot  regssi 
him;  let  not,  thea,  the  asaertionicf 
those  unlearned  in  the  masonic  art 
receive  your  implicit  credit.  Haw 
preposterous,  that  it  sbonld  be  said 
there  are  no  valuable  facts,  no  hid- 
den mysteries,  in  the  chusbersof 
the  masonic  temple,  by  ihoae  who 
have  never  entered  its  door,  aor 
wrought  within  its  walk ! 
<<  The  digni^  and  weUareofthe  fe- 
male sex,  are  inseparably  interwovta 
with  our  principles;  and  that  bro- 
ther who  prizes  not  their  woi^ 
who  withholds  from  them  their  just 
tribute  of  respect  and  afiectioB,  and 
refuses  protection  and  relief  when 
they  most  need  it,  violates  his  6t£- 
gations,  and  forfeits  the  name  of 
mason/ 

"The  silent  tongue  anAfmt^f 
breast,  are  regarded  by  the  mason, 
as  jewels  of  inestimable  value.  The 
alluring  charms  of  wealth,  and  pun- 
ishments the  most  severe,  nave 
failed  to  make  him  prove  a  recreant 
to  his  trust  Eternal  silence  seals 
the  lips  even  of  the  abandoned  mis- 
creant, ag!tiust  whom  has  been  pn>- 
nounced  the  just  sentence  of  ex- 
pulsion ! 

"The  formidable  oppositk>n  of 
hot-brained  potentates;  the  thun- 
dering anathemas  of  fanatic  Popes, 
and  the  imbecile  efibrts  of  ecclesias- 
tical synods,  have  alike  failed  to 
subvert  the  glorious  fabric  of  mason- 
ry ;  because  the  pillars  of  wisdom 
fuid  strength  support  it;  its  fcnoida- 
tion-stone  is  virtue;  its  cement  dkn- 
rity.  Like  a  rock  in  the  midst  of 
the  ocean,  it  rises  above  eveiy 
storm,  and  bids  proud  defiance  to 
the  raging  waves  which  dash  against 
its  base.  Other  fabrics,  however 
fair  and  towermg,  have,  sooner  or 
later,  been  swept  away  by  the  tot- 
rent  of  destruction;  but  this  has 
turvived  the  horrid  convubions  asd 
revolutions  of  the  nooral  and  politi- 
cal world,  and  still  remams  a  mofitt* 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MASONIC. 


2ir 


ment  ef  wisdom  add  virtue,  daily 
increasing  in  strength,  beauty,  and 
magnificence. 

"  Masonry  has  been  a  patron^ 
end  a  preserver  of  the  arts.  In 
those  ages  of  the  world,  when  the 
dismal  cloud  of  barbarism,  pregnant 
with  ignorance  and  superstition, 
'  overshadowed  the  earth,  then  a 
knowledge  of  the  most  valuable 
aits,  was  with  danger  and  difficulty 
preseived  by  our  ancient  brethren, 
which  having  been  transmitted  to 
posterity,  has  contributed,  in  no 
small  degree,  to  refine  and  civilize 
the  world. 

"  During  the  dark  ages,  masonry 
was  the  only  institution,  which  had 
for  its  object  the  alleviation  of  hu- 
man misery.  Since  the  advent  of 
the  prince  of  peace,  Christianity 
and  masonry,  like  twin  sisters,  have 
gone  hand  in  hand  in  the  blessed 
work  of  charity  and  love.  Before 
that  happy  epoch,  as  a  writer  has 
observed,  almshouses,  and  eleemo- 
synary institutions  were  unknown. 
Poverty  (except  among  masons) 
was  without  a  friend,  and  the  hum- 
ble supplications  of  distress,  were 
lost  amid  the  proud  pursuits  of  am- 
bition, the  wild  and  terrible  clan- 
gour of  arms,  and  the  sweeping  de- 
solations and  cruelties  of  persecu- 
tion, anarchy,  and  despotism. 

"  The  Holy  Bible  is  one  of  the 
three  great  lights  in  masonry ;  and 
all  our  principles,  so  far  from  milita- 
ting against,  perfectly  harmonize 
with,  the  truths  and  maxims  contain- 
ed in  its  inspired  pages.  Hence  no 
atheist,  or  base  libertine,  dare  con- 
taminate with  his  unhallowed  tread 
the  sanctum  sojictorum  of  our  tem- 
ple ;  such  can  never  gain  admittance 
there,  without  the  most  glaring  per- 
version of  our  principles,  and  the 
grossest  violation  of  vows  the  most 
sacred  and  solemn.  And  while  the 
mason  is  taught  to  acknowledge  the 
existence  of  the  Grand  Master  of  the 
Universe,  and  to  reverence  his  great 
and  sacred  name,  he  is  also  bound  in 
VOL.  n.  28 


an  especial  manner,  and  by  the 
strongest  sanctions,  to  act  upon  the 
square  with  his  fellow  brethren; 
forewarn  and  succour  those  who  are 
t>e8et  with  dangers,  while  travelling 
the  rmggedpaih  of  life ;  to  t)e  true  to 
his  government ;  ^^keep  a  tongue  of 
good  report;"  and  circumscribe  his 
hopes  and  desires  with  the  compasses 
of  reolhude  and  honour :  in  a  word, 
to  practise  every  virtue  which  adorns 
and  ennobles  the  human  character, 
and  fiy  every  vice  which  sullies  and 
degrades  it.^* 


ANECDOTES. 

Between  the  years  1740  and  1750, 
the  freemasons  were  subject  to  great 
persecutions  in  Portugal.  A  jeweller, 
of  the  name  of  Moutou,  was  seized 
and  confined  in  the  prison  of  the  In- 
quisition ;  and  a  friend  of  his,  John 
Coustos,  a  native  of  Switzerland,  was 
also  arrested.  The  fact  was,  that 
these  two  persons  were  the  leading 
freemasons  in  Lisbon,  which  const!* 
tuted  their  crime.  Coustos  was 
confined  in  a  lonely  dungeon,  whose 
horrours  were  heightened  by  the 
complaints,  t|^  dismal  cries,  and 
hollow  groanSj^f  several  other  pri 
soners  in  the  adjoining  cells.  He 
was  frequently  brought  before  the  in- 
quisitors, who  were  anxious  to  extort 
from  him  the  secrel^of  masonry; 
but  refusing  to  give  ai^io formation, 
he  was  confined  in  a  still  ifeeper  and 
more  horrible  dungeon.  Finding 
threats,  eittreaties,  and  remonstrances 
in  vain,  Coustos  was  condemned  to 
the  tortures  of  the  holy  office.  ^ 

He  was,  thereupon,  conveyed  to 
the  torture  room,  where  no  light  ap- 
peared but  what  two  candles  gave. 
First  they  put  round  his  neck  an  iron 
collar,  which  was  fastened  to  the 
scaffold;  they  then  fixed  a  ring'  to 
each  foot^nd  this  being  done,  they 
stretchecPVis^bnbs  with  all  their 
might.  They  next  tied  two  ropes 
round  each  arm,  and  two  round  each 
thigh;    which  ropes  pass^^    tmder 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


218 


MASONIC. 


the  scaffold,  through  holes  made  for 
that  pur|»ose.  These  ropes,  which 
were  of  the  size  of  one's  little  finger^ 
pierced  through  his  flesh  quite  to  the 
bone,  making  the  blood  gush  out  at 
eight  different  places  that  were  so 
bound. 

Finding  that  the  tortures  above 
described  could  not  extort  any  disco- 
very from  him,  they  were  so  inhu- 
man, six  weeks  after,  as  to  expose 
him  to  another  kind  of  torture,  more 
grievous,  if  possible,  than  the  former. 
They  made  him  stretch  his  arms  in 
such  a  manner,  that  the  palms  of  his 
hands  were  turned  outward  ;  when 
by  the  help  of  a  rope  that  fastened 
them  together  at  the  wrist,  and 
which  they  turned  by  an  engine, 
tiiey  drew  them  nearer  to  one  ano- 
ther behind  in  such  a  manner,  that 
the  back  of  each  hand  touched,  and 
stood  exactly  parallel  one  on  the 
other 5  whereby  both  his  shoulders 
were  dislocated,  and  a  quantity  of 
blood  issued  from  his  mouth.  This 
torture  was  repeated  thric©;  after 
which  he  was  again  sent  to  his  dun- 
geon, and  put  into  the  hands  of  phy- 
sicians and  surgeons,  who  in  setting 
his  bones,  put  him  to  exquisite  pain. 

In  the  year  l74^Pblonsieur  Pre- 
verot,  a  gentleman  in  the  navy,  was 
shipwrecked  on  an  island,  whose 
viceroy  was  a  freemason.  In  his 
destitute  comjition,  he  presented 
himself  to  t|i  viceroy,  and  related 
his  mis^i^unes  in  a  manner  which 
completely  proved  that  he  was  no 
imposter.'  The  viceroy  made  tlie 
masonic  signs,  which  being  instantly 
returned  by  the  Frenchman,  they 
reco^ised  and  embraced  each  other 
"5\brethren  of  the  same  order.  The 
oy  loaded  him  with  presents, 
andlgave  him  as  much  money  as  was 
necessary  for  carrying  him  into  his 
native  country. 

In  the   battle  of  Dquhigen,    in 


1743,  one  of  the  kjfc's^iiirds  hav- 
ing  his  horso  kille^mder  him,  was 
so  entangled  among  its  limbs  that 


he  was  unable  to  extricate  himself. 
While  he  was  in  this  situation,  an 
English  dragoon  galloped  up  to 
him,  and,  with  his  uplifted  sabre, 
was  about  to  deprive  him  of  life. 
The  French  soldier  having,  i^ith 
much  difficulty,  made  the  signs  of 
masonry,  the  dragoon  recognized 
him  as  a  brother,  and  not  only  saved 
his  life,  but  freed  him  from  his  dan- 
gerous situation. 

A  Scottish  gentleman,  in  tlie 
Prussian  service,  was  taken  prisoner 
at  the  battle  of  Lutzen,  and  was 
conveyed  to  Prague,  along  with  four 
himdred  of  liis  companions  in  arms; 
as  soon  as  it  was  known  that  he  was 
a  mason,  he  was  release*!  from  con- 
finement; he  was  invited  to  the  ta- 
bles of  the  most  distinguished  citi- 
zens; and  requested  to  consider 
himself  as  a  freemason,  and  not  as  a 
prisoner  of  war. 

During  the  American  revolution, 
a  citizen  on  board  a  privateer,  was 
captured  by  the  British,  and  the 
whole  crew  imprisoned  at  Edin- 
burgh. The  following  night,  after 
their  imprisonment,  a  lodge  held  its 
communication  near  the  prison. 
During  the  time  of  refreshment, 
some  of  the  brethren  visited  the 
prisoners.  This  American  mani- 
fested himself  to  be  a  mason,  and 
was  recognized  as  such.  During 
the  same  evening,  he  was  permitted 
to  visit  the  lodge,  and  associate  with 
the  craft.  By  the  friendly  aid  of 
the  brethren,  he  was  liberated  from 
confinement,  had  the  freedom  of 
the  city,  and  shortly  after  was  sent 
back  to  his  country  and  family. 

A  masonic  brother,  who  escaped 
from  Ireland,  during  their  last  na- 
tional difiiculties,  protected  the 
whole  crew  from  a  pirate,  by  liis 
knowledge  of  masonry. 

An  American  was  on  board  a 
British  vessel  on  a  passage  to  Eh- 
rope.  The  vessel  was  captured, 
and  taken  to  Brest,  This  was  at 
the  time  when   Bonaparte  wts  in 

Digitized  by  VjOOQiC 


StISCELLAKEOUS. 


219 


possession  of  Egypt  Tlie  crew, 
therefore,  was  sent  to  Alexandria, 
and  put  into  close  confinement.  A 
man  was  seen  to  pass  the  street  by 
the  prison,  wearing  a  sash  of  many 
colours.  The  American  believing 
'  it  to  be  a  masonic  badge,  wanted 
nothing  but  an  opportunity  to  make 
himself  known  as  a  mason.  Soon, 
liowever,  it  happened  the  same  per- 
son, wearing  the  same  sash,  came 
to  the  prison.  This  person  proved 
to  be  the  principal  officer  of  the 
city,  and  recognizing  the  American 
as  a  mason;  took  him  to  his  own 
house,  paid  his  passage  in  the  first 
vessel,  gave  him  sixty  crowns,  and 
dismissed  him.  Who  would  not 
wish,  for  humanity's  sak-e,  principles 
which  produce  such  an  effect,  might 
lie  more  generally  understood. 

Officers  of  the  Ncw-York  Masonic 
Benevolent  Society,  No,  1. 

Jolm  Coates,  president. 

F.  L.  V.  Vultee,  first  vice  presi- 
dent. 

L.  Chapman,  second  vice  presi- 
dent. 

Harry  Padleton,  secretary. 

James  Thorburn,  treasurer. 

James  Thorburn,  Joseph  Hoxie, 
and  Hosea  Dodge,  trustees. 

Thomas  Bussing,  Samuel  Hay- 
ward,  L.  Chapman,  Edward  S.  Bel- 
lamy, and  Hosea  Dodge,  standing 
committee. 

Meet  at  St.  John's  Hall,  2d 
Thursdays,  in  each  month. 

The  following  excellent  toasts 
were  given,  among  others,  at  a  late 
masonic  celebration  in  Boston  : 

Masonry  and  Christianity — twin 
sisters — while  we  embrace  the  one, 
may  we  never  neglect  the  other. 

Masonry — As  it  has  escaped  un- 
scorched  the  fires  of  Spain,  may  it 
escape  unhurt  the  frosts  of  Russia. 

Masonry — While  all  its  deeds  are 
the  dictates  of  benevolence,  its  ene- 


mies can  never  conquer,  even  with 
an  Alexander  at  their  head. 

The  Fair — If  by  our  by-laws  we 
are  obliged  to  refuse  them  admit- 
tance to  our  lodges,  may  they  never 
think  that  one  turn  deserves  another, 
and  refuse  us  admittance  to  theirs. 
So  mote  it  be. 


MISCELLANEOUS. 

Indian  Courage    and    Magnani- 
Mixy. 

That  magnanimity,  as  well  as  the 
most  undaunted  courage,  can  exist 
in  the  breast  of  a  savage,  is  plainly 
demonstrated  by  the  conduct  of  the 
young  Indian  chief,  Petalesharoo, 
in  conjunction  with  his  father,  deli- 
neated in  the  following  extract  from 
the  "Expedition  to  the  Rocky 
Mountains,"*  a  work  lately  publish- 
ed in  Philadelphia.  It  seems  (says 
the  Democratic  Press)  a  dispensation 
of  Providence,  tliat  the  Indian  race 
must,  every  where,  fall  before  the 
scythe  of  civilization. 

"The  Pawnee  Loups  heretofore 
exhibited  the  tlftomaly,  amongst  the 
American  natives,  of  a  people  ad- 
dicted to  the  inhuman,  superstitious 
rite  of  making  propitiatory  ofierings 
of  human  victims  to  Venus,  the 
Great  Star.  The  origin  of  this  san- 
guinary sacrifice  is  unknown;  prob- 
ably it  existed  previous  to  their  in- 
tercoiu'se  with  the  white  traders. 
This  solemn  ceremony  was  perform- 
ed annually,  and  immediately  pre- 
ceded their  horticultural  operations, 
for  the  success  of  which  it  appears  to 

•  This  is  one  of  the  most  valuable, 
and  best  m-itlen  books,  touching  the 
immediate  interests  of  the  United 
States,  which  has  issued  from  our 
press.  It  is  in  two  volumes,  of  up- 
wards of  500  nages  each,  published 
by  Messrs.  Carey  ^  Lee. — Dem. 
Press. 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MISCELLANEOUS. 

chief  of  the  nation,  Latelesha,  or 
Knife-chief,  had  long  regarded  this 
sacrifice  as  an  unnecessary  and  cruei 
exliibition  of  power,  exercised  upon 
unfortunate  and  defenceless  indiv> 
duals,  whom  they  were,  bound  to 
protect,  and  he  vainly  endearoured 
to  abolish  it  by  philanthropic  ad- 
monitions. 

"A  Jetan  woman,  who  was 
brought  captive  into  the  village,  wa« 
doomed  to  the  Great  Star,  by  the 
warriour,  whose  property  she  had 
become  by  the  fate*  of  war.  She 
_  ,  underwent  the    usual    preparation, 

profusely  supplied  with  j  and  on  the  appointed  ^day,  was  led 
to  the  cross,  amidst  a  great  concourse 
of  people,  as  eager,  perhaps,  as  their 
civilized  fellow  men,  to  witness  the 

The 


220 

have  been  instituted.  A  breath  oi 
this  duty,  the  performance  of  which 
they  believed  to  be  required  by  the 
Great  Star,  it  was  supposed  would 
be  succeeded  by  the  total  failure  of 
their  crops  of  maize,  beans,  and 
pumpkins^  and  the  consequent  total 
privation  of  their  vegetable  food. 

«  To  obviate  a  national  calamity, 
so  formidable,  any  person  was  at 
liberty  to  ofier  up  a  prisoner  of 
either  sex,  that  by  his  powers  in  war 
he  bad  become  possessed  of. 

"The  devoted  individual  was 
clothed  in  the  gayest  and  most  cost 
ly  attire ,    ^ 

the  choicest  food,  and  constantly  at- 
tended by  the  magi,  who  anticipa- 
ted all  his  wants,  cautiously  con- 
cealed from  him  die  real  object  of 
their  sedulous  attentions,  and  en- 
deavoured to  preserve  his  mind  in  a 
state  of  cheerfulness,  with  the  view 
of  promoting  obesity,  and  thereby 
rendering  the  sacrifice  more  accept- 
able to  their  Ceres* 

<*  When  the  victim  was  thus  suffi- 
ciently fattened  for  their  purpose,  a 
suitable  day  was  appointed  for  the 
performance  of  the  rite,  that  the 
whole  nation  might  attend. 

"The  victim  was  bound  to  a 
cr9«s,  in  presence  of^e  assembled 
multitude,  when  a  solemn  dance 
was  performed,  and  af\er  some  cere- 
monies, the  warriour  whose  prisoner 
he  had  been,  cleaved  liis  head  with 
the  tomahawk,  and  his  speedy  death 
was  insured  by  numerous  archers, 
who  penetrated  his  body  with  their 
arrows. 

"A  trader  informed  us  that  the 
squaws  cut  pieces  of  flesh  from  the 
deceased,  with  which  they  greased 
their  hoes ;  but  this  was  denied  by 
another  who  had  been  present  at 
one  of  these  sacrifices.  However 
this  may  be,  the  ceremony  was  be- 
lieved to  have  called  down  a  bless- 
ing upon  the  labours  of  the  fieW, 
and  they  proceeded  to  planting 
without  delay. 
'« The  present  mild  and  humane 


horrours  of  an  execution, 
victim  was  bound  to  the  cross  with 
thongs  of  skin,  and  the  ceremonies 
being  performed,  her  dread  of  a 
most  terrible  death  was  about  to  be 
terminated  oy  the  tomahawk  and 
the  arrow.  At  Aiis  critical  juncture, 
Petalesharoo  (son  of  the  Knife-chiefJ 
stepped  forward  into  the  area,  ana 
in  a  hurried  but  firm  manner,  decla- 
red that  it  was  his  father's  wish  to 
abolish  this  sacrifice;  that  for  him- 
self, he  had  presented  himself  before 
them  for  the  purpose  of  laying  down 
his  life  upon  the  spot,  or  for  the  pur-- 
pose  of  releasing  the  victim.  He 
then  cut  the  cords  which  bound  her 
to  the  cross,  carried  her  swiftly 
through  the  crowd  to  a  horse,  whicu 
he  presented  to  her,  and  having 
mounted  another  himself,  he  con-^ 
veyed  her  beyond  the  reach  of  im- 
mediate pursuit ;  when,  afler  having 
supplied  her  with  food,  admonishing 
her  to  make  the  best  of  her  way  ta 
her  own  nation,  which  was  at  the 
distance  of  at  least  four  hundred 
miles,  he  was  constrained  to  return 
to  his  village.  The  emancipated 
Jetan  bad,  however,  the  good  for^ 
tune,  on  her  journey  of  the  subse- 
quent day,  to  meet  with  a  war  party 
of  her  own  people,  by  whom  she  was 
conveyed  to  her  fam^  in  safety'. 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


221 


'^This  daring  deed  would  almost 
to  a  eenainty  have  terminated  in  an 
unsuccessful  attempt,  under  the  arm 
of  any  other  warriour,  and  Petales- 
haroo  was,  no  doubt,  indebted  for 
this  successful  and  noble  achieve- 
ment to  the  distinguished  renown 
which  his  feats  of  chivalry  had  al- 
ready gained  for  him,  and  which 
commanded  the  high  respect  of  ali 
his  rival  warriours. 

"  Notwiihstanding  the  si^^nal  sue 
cess  of  this  enterprise,  another  dis- 
play of  the  firniness  and  dotermina 
tion  of  the  young  warriour  was  re- 
quired to  abolish  this  sacrifice,  it  is 
to  be  Jiopcd  forever.  The  succeed- 
ing spring,  a  warriour,  who  had  cap- 
tured a  fine  Spanish  boy,  vowed  to 
sacrifice  him  to  the  Great  Star,  and 
accordingly,  placed  him  under  the 
care  of  the  magi,  for  that  purpose. 

«  Tlie  Knife-chief  learning  the 
determination  of  the  warriour,  con- 
sulted with  his  son,  respecting  the 
best  means  of  preventing  a  repetition 
of  the  horrible  ceremony.  "  I  will 
rescue  the  boy,"  said  Petalesharoo, 
"as  a  warriour  should,  by  force 5" 
but  the  Knife-chief,  unwilling  that 
his  son  should  again  expose  himself 
to  a  danger  §0  imminent,  as  that 
which  he  had  once  encountered  in 
this  cause,  hoped  to  compel  the  war- 
riour to  exchange  his  victim  for  a 
large  quantity  of  merchandise, 
which  he  would  endeavour  to  obtain 
with  that  view.  For  this  purpose 
he  repaired  to  Mr.  Pappon,  who 
happened  to  be  in  the  village  for 
the  purpose  of  trade,  and  communi- 
cated to  him  his  intentions.  Mr. 
Pappon  generously  contributed  a 
considerable  quantity  of  merchan- 
dise, and  much  was  added  by 
himself,  Petalesharoo,  and  other 
Indians. 

^<  All  this  treasure  was  laid  up  in 
a  heap  together,  in  the  lodge  of  the 
Knife-chief,  who  thereupon  sum* 
moned  the  warriour   before    him. 


The  chief  armed  himself  with  his 
war-club,  and  explained  the  object 
of  his  call,  commanding  the  war- 
riour to  accept  the  merchandise, 
and  yield  up  the  boy,  or  prepare  for 
instant  death.  The  warriour  refu- 
sed, and  the  chief  waved  his  club  hi 
the  air  towards  the  warriour. — 
"  Strike,"  said  Petalesharoo,  who 
stood  near  to  support  his  father,  *'  I 
will  meet  the  vengeance  of  his 
friends."  But  the  more  prudent 
and  politic  chief,  added  a  few  more 
articles  to  the  mass  of  merchandise, 
in  order  to  give  the  warriour  another 
opportunity  of  acquiescing  without 
breaking  his  word. 

'<  This  expedient  succeeded  : — 
the  goods  were  reluctandy  accepted, 
and  the  boy  was  liberated,  and  was, 
subsequently,  conducted  to  St.  Louis 
by  the  traders.  The  merchandise 
was  sacrificed  in  place  of  the  boy ; 
the  cloth  was  cut  in  shreds,  and  sus- 
pended by  poles  at  the  place  of  sa* 
crifice,  and  many  of  the  valuables 
were  consumed  by  lire.  It  is  not 
expected  that  another  attempt  will 
be  made  to  immolate  a  human  vic- 
tim, during  the  life  of  Petalesharoo^ 
or  of  his  benign  father." 


FILIAL  LOVE. 

Gilbert  de  Montpensier,  of  the 
royal  line,  and  of  that  house  of 
Bourbon,  which  has  since  ascended 
the  throne  of  France,  was  intrusted 
by  Charles,  when  he  returned  into 
his  own  kingdom,  with  the  govern- 
ment of  Naples.  Worsted  oy  the 
superior  force  of  his  enemy,  and 
taken  prisoner  and  detained  by  the 
hard  law  of  the  conqu^or,  amidst 
the  marshes  of  Campania,  the  brave 
Montpensier  died  on  that  unhealthy 
shore.  Not  long  after,  the  son  of 
Montpensier,  a  youth,  repairing  to 
visit  the  place  where  his  father  was 
buried,  was  taken  with  so  violent  a 
passion  of  sorrow,  that  he  instantly 
expired  on  his  father's  grave. 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


121 


AtlSCELLANfiob^. 


is  daily  liable  to  the  cells  of  impris- 
onment, in  companionship  "  widi 
the  very  cankers  of  a  calm  world, 
and  a  long  peace,"  amidst  the  per- 
petrators of  promiscuous  and  distin- 
guished villany .  Let  any  man  bal- 
ancing between  credulity  and  scep- 
ticism,  visit  our  county  prison,  and 
at  this  moment  will  be  presented  be- 
fore him,  virtue  in  disgrace,  honesty 
in  rags,  poverty  made  criminal,  in- 
dustry rewarded,  and  glaring  turpi- 
tude triumphing  over  every  digni- 
fied sentiment  of  the  soul,  by  an  ac- 
tual parallel  of  conditions;  if  this 
picture  is  not  shameful  enough  to 
suffuse  with  shame,  the  brow  of 
« constituted  authority,"  it  is  be- 
cause familiared  with  such  scenes, 
he  has  become  seared  and  callous 
to  the  convictions  of  feeling  and  hu- 
manity ;  the  assertion  is  broad  and 
avowed  i  there  needs  no  props  to 
support  the  predication;  it  is  based 
upon  the  adamant  of  truth  over 
which  the  good  man  might  justly 
weep,  and  the  philanthropist  drop  a 
tear  of  heart  felt  conviction. 

"  7^e  inhumanUy  of  man  to  man, 
**  Mafus  countless  tkottsands  moum.'^^ 
**  It  is  not  in  the  busy  haunts  of  in- 
tercourse, nor  in  tlie  crowded  ave- 
nues of  social  life,  we  can  well  dis- 
cern the  depravity  of  our  fellow 
men,  the  exercise  of  bad  laws,  or 
the  oppressions  of  unfeeling  execu- 
tions; there  the  voice  of  the  op- 
pressed, can  never  reach  you,  while 
the  lullaby  of  friendship  and  gratu- 
lation  beguiles  you  to  quiet  and  re- 
pose; tlie  clanking  of  chains,  the 
grating  of  prison  doors,  and  the  rivit^ 
ing  of  manacles,  awake  the  sleeping 
debtor  to  the  reality  of  his  suffer- 
ings; here  alone  we  can  see  in  those 
criminal  abodes,  <<foul  kennels  of 
excess  and  stream  through  faces  of 
dull  debauch,"  the  misery  of  down 
trodden  humanity,  where  our  fellow 
creatures,  but  yesterday,  flushed 
with  hope  and  fortune,  smiling  with 
a  visage  unwrinkled  with  a  frown,  is 
doomed  to  linger  in  confinement, 


and  ^^  wdste  the  morn  and  liquid  dew 
of  youth,"  as  a  propitiation,  for  a 
mishap  or  chance  mc^ly  in  coinmer- 
cial  intercourse.  Codorus." 

From  the  Miscellaneous  Register. 
NAMES  OF  PLACES. 

The  names  of  places,  in  the  west- 
ern part  of  the  state  of  New-York, 
are,  so  many  of  them,  borrowed 
from  the  Eastern  Continent,  that  a 
traveller  may  well  fancy  Iiimself  on 
oriental  ground. 

A  gentleman  having  made  a  tour 
in  tho^est,  remarks : — ^**  We  came 
to  Geneva,  which  is  beautifully  situa- 
ted on  the  bank  of  the  lake.  After 
tarrying  there  a  few  days,  we  went 
through  Italy,  to  Napks;  from 
whence,  after  seeing  all  the  curiosi- 
ties of  the  place,  and  neighbourhood, 
we  went  over  to  Jerusalem^  where 
the{*e  lately  lived  a  priestess,  who 
gave  out  that  she  was  divinely  in- 
spired, and  should  never  die ;  but, 
when  her  time  came,  death  brought 
her  down,  at  the  first  shot 

On  our  return,  we  made  an  ex- 
cursion to  Ithaca,  where  we  tarried 
but  one  night,  and  returned.  We 
found  a  boat,  used  exclusively  for 
carrying  passengers.  We  went 
aboard,  and  soon  got  under  way. — 
A  mong  the  passengers  there  was  a 
Dutch  gentleman,  from  Bo/aria, 
and  a  lady  from  Hamburgh.  We 
sailed  along  very  pleasantly,  and 
soon  came  to  Jordan,  not  the  river, 
but  a  village  of  that  name.  At 
Syracuse,  we  took  in  a  few  passen- 
gers, but  made  jio  tarry.  We  did 
not  see  Rome,  as  we  passed  it  in  the 
night,  leaving  it  on  our  left,  and  the 
next  day  we  landed  at  Utica. 

I  forgot  to  mention,  that,  while  at 
Carthage,  we  saw  a  celebrated  ruin : 
It  appeared  to  have  been  a  bridge, 
and  must  have  been  at  least  200  feet 
high.  About  2  miles  from  that  place, 
we  saw  a  most  famous  Aquedu<^ 
It  was  built  on  ten  stupendous  arches 
of  stone,  and  mifht  have  been  one 
of  the  seven  wonders  of  the  world.'* 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


223 


NAPOLEON. 


The  following  efTusion  of  one  of 
the  most  intimate  friends  of  this  very 
extraordinary  character/is  copied  into 
the  Masonic  Register  by  particular 
request.  Although,  to  many,  it  may 
appear  "  extravagant,"  it  certainly 
alludes  to  numerous  historical  facts,  is 
couched  in  elegant  language,  and  we 
think  worthy  of  preservation. 

\_Traaislaled  for  the  Salem  Reguter] 

Funeral  Eulogy, 

Pronounced  at  St.  Helena^  over  the 
tomb  of  J^apoleon,  May  9,  1821, 
by  Marshal  Berlrand, 
The  most  extraordinary  man,  the 
most  exalted  genius,  that  ever  ap- 
peared on  the  theatre  of  the  world,  is 
no  more  I     The  mortal  remains  of 
the  Conqueror  of  Europe,  for  fifteen 
years  the  dictator  of  its  laws,  humbly 
repose  at  the  door  of  a  cottage.     On 
the  most  terrific  rock  of  the  shores  of 
Africa,  far  from  the  beautiful  country 
to  which  he  owed  his  prosperity,  and 
glory.  Napoleon,  the  greatest  captain 
of  ancient  or  modern  times,  and  re- 
cently the  most  powerful  monarch  of 
the  earth,  has  breathed  his  last.    The 
parched  earth  that  covers  his  ashes 
cannot  be  watered  by  the  tears  of  his 
son.     His  friends  are  unable  to  strew 
flowers  upon  tlie  tomb  of  him  to  whom 
they  owed  all  their  greatness,  and  our 
tears    alone    [taking   the  hcuids  of 
Montholon  and  Marchond]  are  per- 
haps the  only  ones  which  Frenchmen 
will  shed  over  his  grave.     Who  is 
this  outlaw,  who  thus  expires  in  the 
prime  of   life,  in  barbarous .  exile  ? 
Who  ?  It  is  the  Saviour  and  Legis- 
lator   of   France ;   the    restorer    of 
monarchies  shaken,  of  religion  deso- 
late, of  the  social  compact  dissolved. 
It  is  the  Hero  of  Lodi,  of  Areola,  of 
the  Pyramids,  of  Marengo,  of  Auster- 
litz,  of  Jena,  of  Wagram.     It  is  the 
generous  conqueror  of  the  Austrians, 
of  the  Pnissians.  of  the  Russians,  and 

VOL.  II.  29 


of  a  hundred  other  nations,  who  have 
never  ceased  to  admire  him.  It  is, 
in  fine,  the  same  Napoleon  to  whom 
all  the  sovereignsofEurope  have  sued 
for  friendship  and  alliance. 

Let  us  take  a  rapid  glance  at  his 
immortal  career.  We  see  every  where 
the  intrepid  soldier,  the  consummate 
general,  the  iirm  and  enlightened 
statesman.  Whether  his  fortune  be 
good  or  bad,  we  find  him  always 
above  it.  Hardly  emerged  from 
youth.  Napoleon,  yet  a  simple  officer 
of  artillery,  commenced  his  career  in 
arms,  under  the  walls  of  Toulon.  He 
astonished  his  superiors  by  the  recti- 
tude of  his  judgment,  and  by  the  able 
dispositions  he  gave  to  his  batteries. 
He  routed  from  that  important  place, 
those  enemies,  masters  of  the  sea, 
who  had  held  it  by  treachery.  Na- 
poleon powerfully  contributed  to  the 
success  of  the  siege,  and  gave  a  pre- 
sage of  what  he  would  one  day  be. 
Soon  afterwards,  at  the  head  of  the 
army  of  Italy,  he  made  his  debut,  by 
beating  the  Austrians  at  Montenetto, 
and  by  putting  them  to  flight,  where- 
ever  he  met  them.  It  was  in  vain 
that  they  entrenched  themselves  at 
the  bridge  of  Lodi.  The  young  hero, 
surrounded  by  the  standards  of  liber- 
ty, which  even  the  Austrian  thunders 
seemed  to  respect,  forced  that  terrible 
passage  at  the  head  of  the  grenadiers 
of  the  republic,  and  for  the  fifth  time, 
in  less  than  one  month,  put  to  route 
the  imperial  troops.  Ten  other  battles 
gained  immediately  after,  by  the  young 
Napoleon,  rendered  France  complete- 
ly mistress  of  Italy,  and  that  fine 
country  received  a  new  organization, 
under  the  protection  of  her  deliverers. 

The  genius  of  Napoleon  developed 
itself  in  this  glorious  campaign.  He 
is  already  more  than  a  disciplined  and 
fortunate  general  5  at  the  age  of  twen- 
ty-six, he  is  the  first  captain  of  the 
age,  the  regenerator  of  Italy,  and  • 
reverenced  by  her  people  as  the  great- 
est of  men. 

A  foreign  shore  immediately  after 
received  Mm,  and  his  brave  conh- 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


226  MISCELLANEOUS. 

panions  in  arms.  He  became  con 
qaeror  of  F.gypt,  wrested  that  fertile 
country  from  the  dominion  of  the 
Mamelukes,  destroyed  the  lOnglish 
East-India  commerce,  and  opened  a 
new  road  to  the  industry  of  France. 
Europe  and  Asia  were  leajsfiied  against 
lilm.  The  Turks  became  the  allies 
of  England,  to  prostrate  that  porten- 
tous ex  p«»dition.  Less  than  one  month, 
nevertheless,  was  sufficient  for  the 
genius  of  Napoleon  to  subdue  Kgypt 
and  Syria.  A  handful  of  French 
soldiers  rcseized  the  Pyramids,  and 
the  banks  of  astonished  Aboukir  wit- 
nessed their  valour,  and  that  of  their 
leader.  But  while  Napoleon  and  his 
immortal  demi-brij^ades  beat  theTurks 
and  Knglish,theIVIamelukes  and  A  rabs, 
France  was  distracted  by  internal  fac- 
tions. Austria  took  advantage  of  the 
favourable  moment  to  recommence 
the  war.  Italy  \\a%  again  invaded  by 
the  Imperial  troops,  and  even  Ihe 
frontiers  of  France  were  menaced. 
No  sooner  did  Napoleon  hear  of  the 
misfortunes  of  his  country,  than  he 
quitted  Egypt,  penetrated  the  fleets 
of  England,  and  arrivetl  in  France, 
where  he  was  received  as  her  deliver- 
er. A  (ew  days  only  were  necessary 
to  dethrone  anarchy ,  and  to  establish  a 
firmergovernment,ofwhich  the  people 
declared  him  the  head.  Honoured 
with  the  title  of  First  Consul  of  the 
French  Republic,  Napoleon  collected 
in  haste  some  divisions  of  young  con- 
scripts, traversed  the  Alps  amid  snows 
and  precipices,  and  darted  with  the 
rapidity  of  an  eagle  upon  a  victorious 
army,  intoxicated  with  success.  He 
attacked  them,  and  gave  them  battle 
in  the  fields  of  Marengo.  It  was  at 
Marengo  that  the  First  Consul  dis- 
played all  the  tactics  of  a  great  cap- 
tain, repairing  thereby,  ten  times  the 
losses  which  the  superiour  numbers 
of  his  enemy  cost  his  army ;  and  it 
was  only  by  preserving  the  greatest 
sangfroid,  and  the  most  profound  un- 
concern, that  he  wrested  victory  from 
the  Austrians,  and  changed  their  suc- 
cess into  a  complete  defeat.     Italy  a 


second  time  delivered,  and  a  roost  gfo« 
rious  peace  for  France,  were  the  ex- 
alted trophies  of  that  memorable  bat- 
tle. Having  no  more  wars  to  sustain 
upon  the  continent,  Napoleon  occir- 
pied  himself  incessantly  with  the  in- 
terior organization  of  France,  estab- 
lished order  in  the  finances,  abolished 
all  the  abuses  which  existed  in  the 
administration,  and  digt^ted  those  im- 
mortal codes  of  law  on  which  he 
founded  the  happiness  of  the  people. 
France,  grateful  for  such  signal  bless- 
ings, decreed  him  the  title  of  Empe- 
ror. It  was  then  Ibat  the  French 
eagles,  incessantly  pressing  the  Brit- 
ish lion,  would  have  reduced  him  to 
the  last  extremity,  if  the  corrupting 
gold  of  England  had  not  averted  the 
mortal  stroke,  by  instigating,  in  the 
north,  a  new  war  against  France. 

It  was  here  that  commenced  those 
glorious  campaigns  of  Germany,  of 
Prussia,  and  of  Poland,  that  shed 
such  lustre  on  the  soldiers  of  France. 
\  few  months  were  sufficient  for  the 
Emperor  to  annihilate  armies  which 
his  enemies  had  formed  with  the  ut- 
most difficulty,  and  to  invade  their 
states  and  capitals.  The  fields  of 
Austerlitz,  of  Jena,ofEylau,  of  Fried- 
land,  of  Katisbon,  of  Essling,  of  Wag- 
ram,  will  be  eternally  celebrated  in 
the  destinies  of  France  In  less  tham 
three  years,  the  French  armies,  al- 
ways conducted  by  Napoleon,  twice 
conquered  Austria,  invaded  Prussia, 
and  halted  only  on  the  confines  of 
Poland.  Never  was  the  military 
glory  of  France  at  a  higher  pitch. 
Never  had  any  people  more  confi- 
dence in  their  sovereign.  He  seemed 
to  be  the  man  destiued  for  them  by 
Heaven.  He  held  in  chains,  for  (if. 
teen  years,  the  fickleness  of  fortune. 
He  had  learnt  bow  to  command  her. 
Under  his  reign,  each  year  was  more 
and  more  prolific  in  great  and  glorious 
events,  which  in  other  times,  ages 
would  hardly  have  accomplished. 
He  always  knew  how  to  excite  admi- 
ration anew,  when  exhausted  by  a 
long  series  of  prodigies. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MISCELLANEOUS 

JThe  great  destroyer,  war,  seemed 
to  give  new  life  to  France.  The  ge- 
nius of  Napoleon  was  not  confined  to 
the  field  of  battle.  At  Vienna,  at 
Berlin,  at  Tilsit,  he  established  those 
immense  works  which  alone  would 
have  been  the  glory  of  any  other 
monarch. 

The  perfect  tranquillity  which 
France  enjoyed,  caused  her  mterior 


227 


commerce  to  flourish ;  the  banks  of 
the  Seine  became  the  country  of  the 
sciences,  and  the  fine  arts  5  agricul 
ture  doubled  its  products.  On  all 
sides,  new  ports,  new  roads,  new  ca- 
nals, rendered  communicatfon  more 
easy,  and  exchanges  more  active- 
Industry  reached  such  a  degree  of 
perfection,  that  in  no  branch  did  there 
remain  a  rival  nation.  The  finances 
were  in  the  most  prosperous  condi- 
tion, for  the  subjugated  people  show- 
ered upon  us  subsidies.  Misery  no 
longer  weighed  down  the  people.  All 
breathed  happiness  and  content.  A 
hundred  monuments  attest  the  glory 
of  France,  and  the  grandeur  of  the 
hero  who  governed  her. 

Such  was  the  state  of  this  vast  em- 
pire during  nearly  fifteen  years.  It 
is  in  vain  that  some  seek  to  represent 
her  as  having  always  been  plunged 
jn  misfortunes  and  troubles.  Never 
was  France  greater,  richer,  happier, 
than  during  this  memorable  period. 

But  Napoleon,  great  as  he  was, 
was  but  a  man.  He  was  not  perfect. 
lie  committed  serious  faults,  and  for- 
time  became  untrue  to  hlra.  The 
elements  leagued  with  his  enemies, 
and  the  plains  of  Moscow  became  the 
tomb  of  the  finest  and  most  intrepid 
army  that  ever  existed.  Napoleon, 
astonished,  measured  the  extent  of 
his  loss^,  and,  without  stopping  to 
deplore,  he  hastened  to  repair  them. 
In  a  short  time,  he  again  appeared, 
and  formidable.  The  fields  of  Lut- 
zen  and  of  Bautzen  saw  him  again  a 
conqueror,  and  full  of  confidence. 
Fatal  confidence,  which  permitted  him 
not  to  foresee  that  hb  allies  would 
abandon  him,  when  abandoned  by 


fortune!  And  how  could  he  imagine 
that  princes,  to  whom  he  had  given 
kingdoms,  forgetting  his  favours, 
would  have  turned  traitors  ? 

The  fatal  batdes  of  Leipsick  were 
the  result  of  that  disastrous  desertion 
*  *  *  He  found  only  enemies, 
where  ho  had  stationed  friends ! 

Forced  to  become  the  defender  of 
the  French  territory,  with  the  wreck 
of  his  army,  he  astonished  twenty 


times,  his  innumerable  enemies.  It 
was  in  that  grand  but  unfortunate  cam- 
paign, that  Napoleon  displayed  all 
bis  science,  and  his  inexhaustible  ac- 
tivity. Each  day  victorious  in  com- 
bat, he  devoted  each  night  in  prepa- 
rations to  engage,  the  following  day, 
upon  some  other  point.  Quadrupliug 
his  forces,  by  his  masterly  manoeuvresi 
he  presented  on  all  sides  his  old  sol- 
Hiers,  and  amongst  them  all,  he 
shewed  himself.  Harrassing  inces- 
santly armies  always  complete,  de- 
feating them  at  Champ  Aubert,  at 
.Montmirail,  at  Montereau,  the  result 
of  that  admirable  campaign  would 
have  been  fatal  to  the  allies,  if  Paris 
had  not  been  so  precipitately  surren- 
dered. 

The  enemies  of  Napoleon,  masters 
of  a  part  of  France,  and  encamped  in 
his  capital,  yet  dreaded  him.  The 
French,  whom  they  thought  they  well 
knew,  appeared  to  them  too  formida- 
ble under  such  a  head.  Henceforth 
they  saw  no  security.  They  exacted 
the  abdication  of  the  Emperor.  Na* 
poleon  believing  that  the  happiness 
of  France  demanded  this  great  sacri- 
fice on  his  part,  signed  his  abdication, 
and  his  exile,  with  less  repugnance 
than  he  would  have  signed  a  dis- 
honourable peace. 

A  few  tried  friends,  and  some  old 
generals,  followed  him  to  the  rocks  of 
the  Island  of  Elba.  There  they  ad- 
mired the  composure  and  resignation 
of  him  whose  name  alone  was  yet  of 
immense  weight  in  the  politics  of 
Europe.  Napoleon  watched  over  that 
Europe,  to  which  his  abdication 
should  have  secured  tranquillity.  He 


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228 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


judged,  by  the  operations  of  the  Con- 
gress of  \  lenna,  (bat  tbat  tranquillity 
was  illusory.  He  saw  France  divid- 
ed, and  about  to  become  a  prey  to 
her  own  children.  He  trembled  for 
her.  He  l)elieved  that  his  return 
would  prevent  the  miseries  which  hb 
foresaw,  and,  without  calculating 
dangers,  he  landed  at  the  very  place 
which  had  received  him  on  his  return 
from  Egypt,  There  can  be  no  doubt 
that  the  opinion  of  the  French  was 
still  favourable  towards  him ;  for  he 
encountered  no  obstacle  in  the  execu- 
tion of  the  most  gigantic  project  ever 
conceived  by  man.  In  twenty  days, 
the  exile  of  the  island  of  Elba  com- 
pletely traversed  France,  followed  by 
a  single  battalion ;  and  the  20th  of 
March  witnessed  his  elevation  to  a 
throne  erected  by  himself.  Never 
did  a  dethroned  sovereign  re-possess 
himself  of  the  reins  of  government  in 
a  manner  so  astonishing. 

But  Napoleon  had  accomplished 
all  this,  without  the  permission  of  the 
Congress  of  Vienna.  The  powerful 
monarchs  and  able  diplomatists  as- 
sembled in  that  city,  could  not  witness 
such  an  outrage,  without  indignation 
against  him  who  was  guilty  of  it. 
They  set  up  the  outcry  of  usurpation, 
and  their  innumerable  bayonets  were 
directed  anew  against  Napoleon. 

Elated  with  his  new  success,  and 
recalling  those  who  had  served  him  in 
leading  the  French,  Napoleon  believed 
that  he  could  force  his  enemies  to  at- 
tend to  themselves,  and  not  interfere 
with  the  internal  affairs  of  France. 
He  believed  himself  able  to  sustain  a 
contest  thus  unequal.  He  made  the 
most  admirable  dispositions,  and  in 
two  months  the  French  army  was 
trebled.  Impatient  to  engage  those 
who  rejected  every  proposition  for 
peace,  he  put  his  forces  in  motion  to 
attack  two  united  armies,  f)ne  of 
which  alone  outnumbered  liis  own. 
He  obtained  in  the  onset  brilliant  ad- 
vantages. One  successful  battle  more 
would  have  changed  the  face  of  Eu- 
rope.   But  Waterloo  came  to  destroy 


his  projects  and  bis  hopes.  Napole- 
on, unable  to  meet  death  in  that  fatal 
battle,  bid  adieu  forever  to  tbat 
France,  which  to  him  was  so  dear, 
and  terminated  his  political  life  by 
confiding  himself  to  the  generosity  of 
his  enemies.  [Here  Sir  Hudsm 
Lofffe  covered  his  face  with  hi9  ktmd' 
kerchief,! 

Such  has  been  the  short  but  as- 
tonishing career  of  Napoleon  !  What 
military  name,  what  statesman's  glo- 
ry, ancient  or  modern,  has  resounded 
with  an  eclat  so  resplendent  ?  Trans- 
port ourselves  into  futurity,  view  this 
hero  as  posterity  will  one  day  view 
him,  and  his  greatness  appears  scarce^ 
ly  less  than  fabulous ;  they  will  hard- 
ly be  made  to  believe  tbat  a  single 
man  could,  in  so  short  a  time,  gain 
two  hundred  battles,  conquer  a  hun- 
dred nations,  change  the  fbrm  of  thir- 
ty states,  unite  Italy  into  a  single 
kingdom,  give  to  his  subjects  the 
wisest  la«rs,  open  a  hundred  new 
roads,  and  as  many  ports,  boild  a 
hundred  admirable  monuments.  For- 
tunately these  codes,thtee  roads,  these 
ports,  and  these  monuments  remain. 

Having  thus  hastily  sketched  the 
life  of  the  warrior  and  the  statesman, 
permit  me  to  notice  the  private  man. 

Napoleon,  forever  engaged,  and  ap- 
plying himself  incessantly,  was  not 
therefore  the  less  affable  or  agreeable 
in  private  life.  An  excellent  son, 
and  good  brother,  a  tender  husband, 
and  affectionate  father;  he  divided 
his  good  fortune  with  his  family.  He 
never  forgot  those  he  considered  his 
true  friends,  and  rarely  those  who  bad 
devoted  themselves  to  France.  He 
was  great  and  magnificent  in  hb  re- 
wards. Nevertheless,  he  never  per- 
mitted the  treasures  of  the  state  to  be 
lavished  by  courtiers. 

Long  habituated  to  command  for- 
tune, his  great  soul  was  yet  disciplin- 
ed to  reverses.  Treated  as  the  great- 
est of  criminals,  and  the  worst  of 
men,  by  those  to  whom  he  volunta- 
rily delivered  himself;  deprived  of 
the  wife  of  his  bosom,  and  his  only 

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MISOCLLAMEOUS. 


221/ 


child ;  he  saw  torn  from  him,  from 
time  to  time,  the  small  number  of  bis 
friends  who  bad  been  permitted  to  ac- 
company him  to  St.  Helena.  [Here 
Sir  Hudson  Lowe  showed  some  signs 
of  remorse^  and  again  conctaied  his 
Xace-I  Having  no  communication 
whatever  with  Europe,  seeing  him- 
self almost  blotted  from  creation,  Na- 
poleon had  courage  to  sustain  all  his 
miseries ;  his  soul  seemed  to  be  al- 
ways firmer,  always  greater.  At- 
tacked at  last  with  the  malady  which 
was  to  carry  him  to  the  tomb,  he  saw 
the  approach  of  death,  with  a  resigna- 
tion and  stoicism  of  which  he  only 
was  capable.  His  sufierings  drew 
from  him  not  one  complaint — not  a 
single  sigh.  France  and  his  son  filled 
his  whole  soul.  He  talked  of  them 
incessantly,  until  destiny  severed  the 
thread  of  life.  He  lived  a  hero  5  he 
died  a  martyr. 

Ancient  Rome  would  have  erected 
a  pantheon  expressly  to  contain  his 
ashes ;  and  we,  we  are  obliged  to  de- 
posit them  at  the  threshold  of  a  cabin ! 

Would  that  the  tears  and  tender 
remembrance  of  his  friends  could  as- 
suage, at  least,  the  injustice  and  ha- 
tred  of  his  enemies. 


Napoleon's  great  work. 
The  first  two  volumes  of  Napo- 
leon's Memoirs,  and  Las  Casas'  Jour- 
nal, have  just  been  published.  It  is 
Las  Casas,  we  understand,  who  ob- 
serves of  Napoleon's  work,  that  "  on 
these  sheets,  indeed,  are  traced  events 
that  never  will  be  forgotten,  portraits 
that  will  decide  the  judgment  of  pos- 
terity. It  is  the  book  of  life  or  death 
to  many  whose  names  are  recorded 
in  it  j"  and  of  Napoleon's  conversa- 
tions he  remarks,  that "  he  invaria- 
bly speaks  with  perfect  coolness,  with- 
out passion,  without  prejudice,  and 
without  resentment,  of  the  events  and 
the  persons  connected  with  his  life. 
He  seems  as  though  he  could  be 
equally  capable  of  hecoming  the  ally 
of  his  most  cruel  enemy,  and  of  living 


with  the  man  who  had  done  him  the 
greatest  wrong.  He  speaks  of  his 
past  history,  as  if  it  had  occurred 
three  centuries  ago;  in  his  recitals 
and  his  observations,  he  speaks  the 
language  of  past  ages ;  he  is  like  a 
spirit  discoursing  in  the  Elisian  fields ; 
bis  conversations  are  true  dialogues 
of  the  dead.  He  speaks  of  himself  as 
of  a  third  person;  noticing  the  Em- 
peror's actions,  pointing  out  the  faults 
with  which  history  may  reproach 
him,  and  analyzing  the  reasons  and 
the  motives  which  might  be  alleged 
in  his  justification." — Loud.  Cow\ 

THE  LAST  MOMENTS  OF  THE 
MOTHER  OF  BONAPARTE. 
The  evening  preceding  her  death, 
she  calledtogether  all  her  household. 
She  was  supported  on  white  velvet 
pillows ;  her  bed  was  crimson  damask, 
and  in  the  centre  hung  a  crown  deco- 
rated with  flowers ;  the  whole  of  the 
apartment  was  lighted  in  grand  style. 
Sjie  called  \^r  servants,  one  after  an- 
other, to  her  badside,  who  knelt  and 
kissed  her  extended  hand,  which  was 
skinny,  and  covered  with  a  pro- 
fusion of  rings.  To  her  chief  direc- 
tor of  finances,  Juan  Berosa,  she  said, 
^'  Juan,  my  blessing  go  with  thee  and 
thine !"  To  Maria  Belgrade,  her 
waiting  maid,  she  said,  ^^  Go  to  Je- 
rome, he  will  take  care  of  thee. 
When  my  grandson  is  Emperor  of 
France,  he  will  make  thee  a  great 
woman."  She  then  called  colonel 
Darley  to  her  bedside ;  he  had  attend- 
ed her  in  all  her  fortunes,  and  Napo- 
leon in  his  will  had  assigned  him  a 
donation  of  ^14,000.  «  You,"  said 
she,  "  have  been  a  good  friend  to  me 
and  my  family ;  1  have  left  you  what 
will  make  you  happy.  Never  forget 
my  grandson ;  und  what  you  and  he 
may  arrive  at  is  beyond  my  discern- 
ing; but  you  will  both  be  great!" 
She  then  called  in  all  junior  servants, 
and  with  a  pencil,  as  their  names 
were  called,  marked  down  a  stun  of 
money  to  be  given  to  each.     They 


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230 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


were  then  dismissed,  and  she  declared 
that  she  had  dene  with  the  world, 
and  requested  water.  She  washed 
her  hands,  and  laid  down  upon  her 
pillow.  Her  attendants  found  her 
dead,  with  her  hand  under  her  head, 
and  a  prayer-book  upon  her  breast. 
Thus  perished  the  mother  of  one  who 
has  been  a  meteor  on  earth,  and  a 
blazing  star  to  direct  others  ! 

From  the  Miscellaneous  Register, 

THOUGHTS  ON  THE  SILK  WORM. 

The  life  of  the  silk  worm,  though 
of  almost  ephemeral  continuance,  may 
be  made  an  apt  representation  of  hu- 
man life.  But  in  a  particular  man- 
ner, it  is  found  to  delineate  the  ac- 
quirements and  subsequent  practice  of 
the  scholar  and  professional  man. 

When  the  silk  worm  first  appears, 
although  no  larger  than  a  mite,  she 
begins  to  lay  in  that  store  of  materi- 
als from  which  afterwards  is  to  be 
drawn  her  treasure.  She  devoui> 
with  unremitted  eagernvs  the  leaves 
of  the  mulberry,  which  furnish  that 
viscous  store  from  which  at  a  future 
period  her  valuable  thread  is  spun. 
After  being  full  grown,  she  applies 
herself  to  the  task,  and  relying  upon 
the  accumulation  already  made,  she 
works  from  her  own,  and  not  an- 
other's acquirements. 

So  the  student,  whatever  may  be 
his  probable  pursuit  in  maturer  years, 
should  commence  at  a  v^ry  early  pe- 
riod to  lay  up  that  stock  of  sound 
learning  which  he  is  to  use  in  the 
course  of  a  literary  life.  It  should 
grow  up  whh  him,  that  he  may  at 
any  time  call  it  to  his  aid ;  so  that 
when  he  shall  enter  upon  the  busy 
scenes  of  life,  he  may  be  prepared 
with  his  own  armour,  not  only  com- 
plete, but  graceful  and  easy  upon  him 
But  gracefulness  and  ease  can  be  ac- 
quired only  by  long  and  diligent  use. 
If  he  begins  late  to  acquire  a  classical 
education,  as  the  case  often  is,  and 
then  prematurely  enters  upon  the  du- 
ties of  a  learned  profession,  he  will 


resemble  the  youthful  David  to  the 
armour  of  the  veteran  Saul,  withoitf 
knowing  as  David  did,  what  befits 
iiim,  and  what  does  not.  He  will 
degenerate  into  an  index  scholar. 

Such  a  stole  of  useful  and  eleme^ 
ary  knowledge  should  be  previously 
acquired,  that  the  student  may  de- 
pend on  his  own  strength.  To  be 
obliged  to  look  for  authorities  every 
time  an  opinion  is  to  be  given,  ora  ques- 
tion discussed,  consumes  much  time, 
and  generally  ends  in  confusion  of 
ideas.  But  when  the  mind  is  previ- 
ously replenished  with  a  genera]  stock 
of  ideas,  it  easily  compares,  combines, 
and  compounds  them  for  the  purpese 
wanted 

As  the  silk  worm  ceases  to  accu- 
mulate stock  when  she  begins  to 
draw  upon  it  by  spinning,  and  turns 
her  whole  attention  to  the  new  task ; 
so  there  is  a  similarity  in  the  situation 
of  the  student,  when  he  commences 
professional  business.  He  ought  to 
have  such  a  stock  of  Jirst  prindj^ 
laid  up  ready  for  use,  that  he  may  not 
be  obliged  in  any  ordinary  business 
to  lose  time  by  searching  for  general 
rules.  He  must,  it  is  true,  make 
constant  advancement  in  collfiteral 
(heading,  and  must  often  refresh  his 
memory  by  a  review  of  past  element- 
ary studies  f  but  all  this  supposes, 
what  ought  never  to  be  wanting,  a 
good  foundation  already  laid.  In 
such  a  situation,  he  can  and  will  be- 
come respectable  :  and  otherwise,  hf^ 
cannot  rise  above  n>ediocrily.  But 
my  meaning  will  best  be  sliown  by 
examples. 

Suppose  a  young  gentleman,  in  the 
pursuit  of  the  knowledge  of  Ie^w, 
should  confine  himself  to  the  details 
of  mere  office  business,  and  should 
read  no  more  than  what  may  l|e 
found  in  reported  cases,  totally  neg- 
lecting the  study  of  the  principles  of 
universal  law,  what  will  be  his  situa- 
tion in  life  as  a  professional  man? 
He  will  be  what  Dugald  Stewart  de- 
nominates BL  detail  scholar;  flippant 
enough,  but  destitute  of  depth.    Caus- 


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MtSCtLLAKEOUS. 


2S1 


es  of  mighty  moment  cannot  be  trust- 
ed to  him,  for  he  possesses  no  founda- 
tion for  legal  defence  on  general  prin- 
ciples. Having  no  integral  store  of 
genend  rules,  he  soon  spins  his  thread 
of  useless  particulars,  and  dies  in 
character  as  a  man  of  legal  science. 

Again ;  a  person   once  remarked 
that  an  extensive  assortment  of  print- 
ed sermons  was  the  best  library  that 
a  young  clergyman  could  possess.    If 
the  young  roan's  diHidence  should  be 
so  great  that  he  could  never  trust  his 
own  opinion;  if  he  should  not  pos- 
sess the  power  of  drawing  particular 
conclusions  from  general   premises: 
if  he  should  wish  to  be  informed  of  all 
the  detailed  elucidations  that  are  es- 
sential  to  be  submitted  to  a  mixed 
congregation ;  in  a  word,  if  such  an 
one  should  tiusl  solely  to  memory, 
and  not  the  strength  of  his  intellect, 
then    let  Wm   seek   for  professional 
learning  in  the  prolix  works  of  a  pa- 
rochial preacher.     But  such  a  person 
would  entirely   mistake    his  object. 
Full-length  sermons  in  divinity,  and 
reported  cases  in  law,  are  not  first  prin- 
ciples :  they  are  only  comments  upon 
first  principles.     They  should  be  the 
every  day  readitig  of  their  respective 
advocates,  but  not  their  first  and  prin- 
cipal study.     If  they  are  made  the 
only  study,  the  mind  soon  has  no  em- 
ployment, the  man  travels    far    for 
what   he  might  have   obtained  in  a 
short  distance,  he  dives  twenty  times 
in  twenty  fathom  of  water,  for  one 
small  pearl,    and    makes    his    way 
through  heaps  of  rubbish  for  what 
will  not  perhaps  repay  him  at  the  last. 
Compendiums  and  first  principles 
«are  indispensably  necessary  to  the 
professional  man,  and  the  general  stu- 
dent.    Without  these  we  are  either 
ii)>on  wings  or  upon  sails,  and  every 
body  knows  that  it  is  safer  to  be  upon 
terra  jirma  than  in  the  air  or  upon 
the  water.      Every  student  .  should 
make  his  own  style :  one  man's  form 
and   manner  may  be  another  one's 
trammel  and    shackles.      If  a  man 

wishes  to  have  his  literary  or  pro- 


fessional performances  clear  and 
satisfactory,  he  must,  like  the  silk 
worm,  draw  upon  his  iuwn  bank. 
To  discount  at  another  man's  bank  is 
embarrassing  and  often  ruinous.      Y. 

SUDDEN  CALCULATION. 

In  the  reign  of  queen  Anne,  a  gen- 
tleman was  driving  post  to  London, 
over  Hounslow  heath,  when  his  chaise 
was  stopped  by  two    highwaymen, 
who,  with  dreadful  imprecations  call- 
ed out  to  him  to  deliver  his  money. 
The  gentleman  happened  to  have  in 
the  chaise  at  the  time,  cash,  &c.  to  a 
very  great  amount,  the  loss  of  which 
would  have  been  bis  utter  ruin.     He 
had  not  a  minute  to  reflect,  and  yet 
with  astonishing  composure  and  pre- 
sence of  mind,  he  instantly  hit  upon 
an  expedient  which  extricated    him 
from  his  danger  :  he  told  the  robbers 
that  his  life  was  doubly  in  their  hands, 
as  they  might  take  it  themselves,  or 
deliver  him  into  the  hands  of  justice, 
out  of  which  he  could  not  be  released 
but  by  death,  as  he  was  the  unfortu- 
nate general  Macartney,  for  the  ap- 
prehension of  whom,  on  account  of 
the  death  of  the  duke  of  Hamilton, 
the  queen  had  by  proclamation,  offer- 
ed so  great  a  reward ;  he  implored, 
therefore,  their  compassion,  and  en- 
treated them  not  to  take  his  money, 
as  by  depriving  him   of  the  means 
of  escape,  he  must   unavoidably  be 
apprehended.      The  robbers  consult- 
ed for  a  few  moments,  and  then  in* 
formed  him  that  they  had  agreed  to 
grant  a  part  of  his  request,    name- 
ly,   not   to    take    his   money   from 
him  ;  but  as  money  was  absolutely 
necessary  to  them,  and  as  they  could 
get  more  by  apprehending  than  by 
robbing  him,  they  said  he  must  submit 
to  be  carried  before  some  magistrate, 
as  they  were  determined  to  deserve 
and  claim  the  reward  offered  for  his 
apprehension.  >   The  gentleman  re- 
joiced at  hearing  the  intelligence,  and 
having  been  carried  before  a  jusAce 
of  the  peace,  who  happened  to  know- 
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BIISCILLANEOUS. 


the  person  of  general  Macartney, 
he  was  discharged,  not  being  the 
person;  but  the  highwaymen  were 
committed. 


MATERNITY. 

Woman's  charms  are  certainly 
many,  and  powerful.  The  expand- 
ing rose  just  bursting  into  beauty, 
has  an  irresistible  bewitchingness ; 
the  blooming  bride  led  triamphantly 
to  the  hymenial  altar,  awakens  admi- 
ration and  interest,  and  the  blush  of 
her  cheek  fills  with  delight ;  but  the 
charm  of  maternity  is  more  sublime 
than  these.  Heaven  has  imprinted 
on  the  mother's  face  something  be- 
yond this  world,  something  which 
claims  kindred  with  the  skies ;  the 
angelic  srafle,  the  tender  look,  the 
waking  watchful  eye,  which  keeps 
its  fond  vigil  over  her  slumbering 
babe. 

These  are  objects  which  neither 
the  pencil  nor  the  chisel  can  touch, 
which  poetry  fails  to  exalt,  which 
the  most  eloquent  tongue  in  vain 
would  eulogise,  and  to  |>ortray  which 
all  description  becomes  ineffective. 
In  the  heart  of  man  lies  the  lovely 
picture ;  it  lives  in  his  sympathies  ; 
it  reigns  in  his  affections;  his  eyes 
look  round  in  vain  for  such  another 
object  on  the  earth. 

Maternity  I  ecstatic  sound ;  so  twined 
round  our  heart,  that  it  must  cease  to 
throb  ere  we  forget  it !  'tis  our  fii:st 
love;  'tis  part  of  our  religion.  Na- 
ture has  set  the  mother  upon  such  a 
pinnacle,  that  our  infant  eye  and  arms 
are  first  uplifted  to  it ;  we  cling  to  it 
in  manhood,  we  almost  worship  it  in 
old  age.  He  who  can  enter  an  apart- 
ment, and  behold  the  tender  bade 
feeding  on  its  mother's  beauty,  nour- 
ished by  the  tide  of  life  which  flows 
through  her  generous  veins,  without  a 
panting  bosom,  and  a  grateful  eye,  is 
no  man,  but  a  monster.  He  who  can 
approach  the  cradle  of  sleeping  inno- 
cence without  thinking,  that  "  Of 
<'\rh  is  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  !-'  or 


view  the  fond  parent  hang  over  iu 
beauties,  and  half  retain  her  breath 
lest  she  should  break  its  slumbers, 
without  a  veneration  beyond  all  coid- 
mon  feeling,  is  to  be  avoided  in  every 
intercourse  in  life,  and  is  fit  only  for 
the  shadow  of  darkness  and  the  soli- 
lude  of  the  desert.  Though  a  looe 
being,  far  be  such  feelings  from 

The  Hermit  in  London. 


ANECDOTE. 

Among  the  vices  which  fashion  has 
too  great  a  share  in  encouraging,  none 
is  of  worse  example,  or  less  excusa- 
ble, than  that  of  profane  swearing,  or 
the  practice  of  interlarding  one's  con- 
versation, on  all  occasions,  even  the 
most  trifling,  with  appeals  to  the  De- 
ity.    A  general  officer,  who  is  a  Ihr- 
ing  and  illustrious  example  of  the  per- 
fect compatibility  of  the^most  gentle- 
manly manners^  with  the  strictest  pu- 
rity of  language,  but  who  was  in  early 
life  much  addicted  to  this  fashional^ 
sin,  dates    his    reformation    from  a 
memorable  reproof  which    he  acci- 
deutally  received  when  a  young  man, 
from  an  eccentric  Scottish  clergynaan, 
settled  in    the   north    of   England. 
While  stationed  with  his  regiment  at 
Newcastle,  he  had  the  misfortune  one 
evening  to  get  involved  in  a  street  brawl 
with  some  persons  of  the  lower  order : 
and  the  dispute,  as  is  too  usual  in  such 
cases,  was  carried  on  with  abundance 
o(  audacious  oaths  on  both    sides. 
The  clergyman  alluded  to,  passing  by 
at  the  moment,  and  much  shocked  at 
the  imprecations  which  assailed  bis 
ears,  stepped  into  the  midst  of  the 
crowd,  and  with  his  cane  upliAed^ 
thus  gravely  addressed  one  of   the 
principal  leaders  of  the  rabble :  "Ob, 
John,  John^  what^s  this  now  I  hear? 
You  only  a  poor  collier  body,  and 
swearing  like  any  lord  in  a'  the  land  ! 
O,  John,  have  ye  nae  fear  o'  wbitf 
will  become  o'  you  I  It  may  do  very 
well  for  this  braw  gentleman  here,^ 

pointing  to  the  lieutenant ,  "  to 

bang  and  swear  as  he  please^^  bni, 

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MISCELLANEOUS. 


23S 


John,  it's  no  for  you,  or  the  like  o' 
you,  to  take  in  vain  the  name  o'  him 
by  whom  you  live  and  have  your  be- 
ing." 'Then  turning  to  the  lieutenant, 
he  continued,  "  Ye^l  excuse  the  poor 
man,  sir,  for  swearing ;  he's  an  igno- 
rant  body,  and  kens  nae    better." 

Lieutenant slunk  away,  covered 

with  confusion,  and  unable  to  make 
any  answer ;  but  next  day  he  made  it 
his  business  to  find  out  the  worthy 
parson,  and  thanked  him  in  the  sin- 
cerest  manner  for  his  well-timed  ad- 
monition, which  had,  as  he  assured 
him,  and  as  the  result  has  shown, 
cured  him  forever  of  a  most  hateful 
vice. 


THE  SLAVE  TRADE. 

The  unanimity  of  the  recent  vote 
of  the  House  of  Representatives,  re- 
questing the  President  to  enter  into 
negotiations  with  such  foreign  nations 
as  he  might  deem  proper,  for  the  ef- 
fectual abolition  of  the  slave  trade, 
and  its  ultimate  denunciation  as  pira- 
cy, must  forever  put  to  rest  all  doubt 
of  the  sincere  desire  of  the  slave-hold- 
ing states  to  abolish  this  iniquitous 
traffic,  and  free  themselves  from  a 
burden  that  threatens  their  welfare 
and     happiness.      The     impression 
which  tlie  discussion  of  the  "  Missouri 
question"  made  on  the  minds  of  the 
citizens  of  those  states  where  slavery 
is  not  permitted,  tended  very  much  to 
prejudice  them  against  those  of  the 
slave-holding  states,  if  not  to  create  a 
feeling  unfavourable  to  the  harmony 
and  perpetuity  of  the  Union.     The 
opinions  advanced  on  that  occasion 
by  tlie  advocates  of  slavery,  as  they 
were  called,  were  thought  to  indicate 
a  desire  to  extend  and  perpetuate  the 
evil  5  those  opposed  to  it,  beheld  with 
no  little  feeling    of  indignation  the 
propagation  of  sentiments  so  repug- 
nant to  the  genius  of  our  government ; 
to  republicanism;    to  the  just  and 
equal  rights  of  man  :  in  fine,  to  every 
feeling  of  humanity  and  benevolence. 
But  whatever  were  the  views  of  our 

VOL.  II.  30  • 


fellow-citizens  of  the  south  on  that  oc- 
casion, we  rejoice  to  perceive  now  so 
strong  and  decisive  a  disposition  to 
abolish  a  traffic,  that  has  too  long  cqp- 
tinued  a  blot  upon  our  nationaHrB^r- 
acter,  and  the  termination  of  whicl^f 
sincerely  desired  by  a  very  large  por^ 
tion  of  the  American  people.     Let  us 
no  longer  entertain  illiberal  feeling 
towards  our  brethren  of  the  south,  be-^ 
cause  slavery  haa  been  unfortunately - 
entailed  upon  them  by  the  avarice 
and  cupidity  of  other  times ;  but  ra- 
ther let  us  sympathise  with  them  for 
being  involved  with^a  slave  popula- 
tion, and  assist  in  relieving  them  of  a 
burden,  which  they  seem  unwilling  to 
support,  and  ready  to  cast  off. 

[Haverhill  Oazette, 

ABOLITION  OF   THE  SLAVE 
TRADE. 

The  following  important  resolu- 
tion was  brought  in  by  colonel  Charles 
F.  Mercer,  of  Vfrginia,  and  passed 
the  House  of  Representatives  of  the 
United  States,  by  the  almost  unani- 
mous vote  of  one  hundred  and  thirty- 
one  yeasy  to  nine  nays. 

Resolved^  That  the  President  of 
the  United  States  be^l^uested  to  en- 
ter upon  and  to  prbsecute,  from  time 
to  time,  such  negotiations  with  the 
several  maritime  powers  of  Europe 
and  America,  as  he  may  deem  expe- 
dient for  the  effectual  abolition  of  the 
African  Slave  Trade,  and  its  ultimate 
denunciation,  as  piracy,  under  the 
law  of  nations,  by  the  consent  of  the 
civilized  world. 

On  the  adoption  with  so  much  una- 
nimity, of  this  important  measure,  by 
the  popular  branch  of  our  govern- 
ment, we  would  mingle  our  congratu- 
lations with  those  of  the  friends  ol 
universal  emancipation  throughout  the 
world.  It  is  highly  honourable  to  the 
distinguished  and  eloquent  friend  of 
liberty  who  originated  the  resolution, 
and  is  worthy  the  government  of  a  free 
people.  If  this  resolution  shall  meet 
with  a  similar  reception  in  the  Senate, 
and  the  negotiations  be  commedW, 


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234 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


we  may  consider  the  day  of  its  adop- 
tion as  the  conameDcement  of  a  new 
era,  in  which  the  principles  of  human- 
ity and  justice,  in  reference  to  the  Af- 
rica^race,  shall  Ue  acknowledged  and 
'#Sfiected  throughout  the  civilized 
world.  [States^nan. 

OUR  PARENTS. 

It  is  the  common  rule  of  nature, 
that  our  parents  should  precede  us  to 
the  grave,  and  it  is  also  her  rule,  that 
our  grief  for  them  should  not  be  of 
such  power  as  to  prevent  us  from  en- 
tering, after  they  are  gone,  into  a 
zealous  participation  both  of  the  busi- 
ness and  pleasure  of  life.  Yet  in  all 
well  regulated  spirits,  the  influence  of 
that  necessary  and  irremediable  de- 
privation, however  time  may  sooth 
and  soften  it,  has  a  deep  and  enduring 
resting  place.  In  the  midst  of  the 
noisiest,  busiest  hours  of  after-life,  the 
memory  of  that  buried  tenderness 
rises  np  ever  and  anon  to  remind  us 
of  the  instability  of  all  human  things, 
and  wins  rather  than  warns  us  to  a  de- 
liberate contemplation  of  futurity. 

From  the  Miscellaneous  Register, 

SOPHIA, 

On  THE  Girl  OP  the  Pine  Woods. 

[Contimted  from  page  190.] 

CHAPTER  ir. 

In  order  to  give  the  reader  some 
idea  of  the  place  where  this  family 
had  retired,  we  shall  sketch  a  short 
description  of  it. 

There  was  not  an  inhabited  dwell- 
ing for  two  miles  in  any  direction,' 
and  the  village  before  mentioned  was 
the  Highest.  A  few  scattered  huts, 
thatched  with  straw,  and  now  entirely 
deserted  by  a  ragged  set  of  families, 
were  interspersed  among  the  black 
logs  and  shrub-oak  bushes,  on  patches 
paitially  cleared,  made  the  coimtry 
around  more  dreary  by  far,  than  if  the 
whole  were  in  a  state  of  natural  wild- 
ness ;  and  the  tinkling  of  distant  cow- 


bells,  where  half-starved  cattle  were 
seeking  a  relief  from  pinching  hunger, 
come  chiming  in  mournful  sounds, 
echoed  from  a  thick  dark  grove  sot 
more  than  ten  rods  from  the  opposite 
side  of  tlie  dwelling.  A  field  in  fr«t 
was  inclosed,  which  belonged  to  a  miB 
at  the  red  mills,  six  miles  off.  Ex- 
cepting this  fold,  the  pl^^ce  was  sur- 
rounded by  a  dark  forest,  almost  in- 
accessible. Fish  creek  ran  to  tbe 
south,  a  few  rods  east  of  the  cottage, 
which  had  been  occupied  by  a  family 
from  the  red  mills.  All  was  dismal 
and  lonely.  A  road  from  tbe  village 
north,  passed  about  twenty  rods  to  tbe 
west,  ran  about  twenty  rods,  and  then 
took  a  short  turn  to  the  ^st,  crossed 
the  creek  near  the  bars,  and  made  a 
very  crooked  way  to  the  red  mills. 

Here  dwelt  the  lady  and  her  daugh- 
ter, with  no  other  but  her  son  about 
twelve  years  old,  who  went  almost 
everyday  to  the  village  to  school, 
and  to  see  his  father. 

It  was  in  the  month  of  June ;  it  was 
now  about  six  in  the  afternoon,  and 
the  stranger  was  just  bidding  them 
good  bye,  when  the  Jittle  dog  again 
gave  the  signal  of  alarm,  and  a  stran- 
ger appeared  under  full  gallop,  mik- 
ing down  the  path  from  the  highway. 
He  rode  up  to  the  door,  dismounted, 
and  rushed  into  the  hut  before  tbe 
other  had  scarcely  left  th^lhreshhold, 
with  "  how  are  you,  madam,  by  G — d 
I've  found  you  at  last — tracked  you 
to  your  den— and  you,  miss,  how  are 
you — what,  catched  a  beau  in  your 
trap  already!  pretty  crafty,  egad! 
Well  ladies,  I've  come  about  the  old 
business — I've  brought  my  suit,.made 
my  declaration,  and  want  you  to 
plead  to  it,  or  suffer  judgment  to  go 
against  you  by  default.'^  <«  You  have 
had  one  judgment  and  execution,  sir, 
and  what  do  you  want  of  anotlier?" 
said  the  old  woman,  with  a  look  of 
Hidignation  that  would  have  silenced 
any  but  a  coxcomb.  ^'  I  want  judg- 
ment from  you,  not  against  you,  in 
favour  of  myself,  not  my  clienl—s<t 
that  I  can  have  an  execution  again>t 


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MISCELLANEOUS. 


235 


you,  to  take  the  body,  madam :  we 
lawyers  call  it  a  ca,  saJ^  "  Is  the 
lady  a  judgethen,  aod  is  her  daugh- 
ter a  debtor  to  you,  sir  ■?"  said  the 
first  gentleman  to  Mr.  Tivinghani, 
who  yet  halted  at  the  door.  "  How, 
sir,"  said  the  lawyer,  "  are  they  then 
your  clients,  and  you  retained  to  de- 
fend their  cause.  If  so,  perhaps  a  lit- 
tle courage  would  be  the  best  argu- 
ment that  I  could  use."  "  You  cane 
me  sir !"  said  the  gentleman,  his 
black  eyes  flashing  fury,  and  at  the 
same  moment  seized  the  lawyer  by 
the  collar,  dragged  him  s'prawling  out 
o(  the  door,  and  shook  him  till  he 
cried  murder,  which  called  two  gen- 
tlemen just  riding  by  towards  the  vil- 
lage, to  his  assistance.  The  stranger 
let  him  up,  howerer,  before  they  ar- 
rived. 

"  You  have  committed  an  assault 
and  battery,"  said  the  lawyer,  "  and 
I  will  have  you  arrested  immediately, 
and  put  to  jail.  Here  are  two  men 
who  will  be  witnesses.'*  The  old 
lady  and  her  daughter  had  by  this 
time  come  out,  and  told  their  story, 
that  the  lawyer  was  the  aggressor. 
""You  will  swear  him  clear  then,  will 
you  ?  but  remember  I  have  the  old 
man  in  my  clutches,  and  will  be  re- 
venged on  him,  for  your  conduct." 
^«  Villain,"  said  the  stranger,  "  set 
that  man  at  liberty  instantly,  and  I 
will  pay  the  debt.  How  much  is  it  ?" 
^<  It  was  originally  a  thousand  dollars 
only,  but  the  interest  and  costs  have 
swelled  the  demand  to  twenty-four 
hundred,  which  is  more  money  than 

you  can  pay,  I  fancy,  Mr. ,  and 

besides  this,  you  have  got  to  pay  me 
heavy  damages  for  this  assault,  or 
suffer  the  penalty  of  the  law  imme- 
diately." "  How  much  do  you  de- 
mand for  your  personal  damages  ?" 
<•  One  hundred  dollars."  "  And  will 
you  pledge  yourself  (honour  you  have 
none  wiat  you  will  not  prosecute  in 
behalf  of  the  people,  if  I  pay  you  this 
sum  ?"  "  That  I  cannot  promise,  as 
I  am  not  state's  attorney,  but  I  will 
promise  that  I  will  not  complain." 


"  But  will  yoiT  promise  to  indemnify 
me  against  any  complaint  that  may 
be  made?"  "As  far  as  I  can." 
"  Well,  sir,  I  shall  not  pay  you  one 
dollar,  and  you  may  prosecute  as 
soon  as  you  please.  As  to  Mr. 
Thompson's  debt,  it  is  so  much  larger 
by  your  account,  than  I  had  antici- 
pated, that  I  shair  not  pay  you  the 
money,  at  present."  "  A  very  good 
come  oflT  indeed,  and  one  of  the  best 
reasons  in  the  world,  you  cannot  pay 
the  money,  as  I  thought  at  first ;  but 
ni  plague  you  for  your  insolence — 
remember  that  you  said  you  would 
pay  Thompson's  debt,  and  now  I 
have  you  in  for  it — I'll  prosecute  you 
on  the  promise."  "  Really,  sir,  you 
are  quite  full  of  prosecutions  ;  but  re- 
member that  the  promises  of  a  third 
person,  to  pay  the  debt  of  another, 
are  void,  under  the  statute  of  frauds, 
unless  in  writing,  and  for  a  valuable 
consideration."  "  Why,  sir,  are  you 
a  lawyer  then?  but  I  shall  let  you 
know  that  you  are  mistaken."  Looks 
rather  confounded. 

"  Good  evening,"  says  the  stranger 
to.  the  ladies,  and  walks  towards  his 
horse,  "  I  commsmd  assistance," 
says  the  lawyer  to  the  two  men  be- 
fore mentioned,  '^  seize  that  man  in 
the  name  of  the  people."  They 
sprung  to  seize  him,  and  he  laid  them 
both  sprawling  in  an  instant,  leaped 
on  his  horse,  and  was  out  of  sight  in 
a  second. 

"  We'll  have  him  yet,"  says  the 
lawyer  to  his  half  stunned  coadjutors, 
"  here  is  five  dollars  a  piece  for  you  5 
he  is  only  going  to  the  red  mills,  and 
^  ill  be  back  this  way  to  the  village 
sometime  after  dark ;  go  with  me  and 
lay  in  wait  for  him  in  the  woods,  be- 
tween this  and  the  village."  "  We  ^ 
will,"  answered  they,  "  and  we'll  m 
have  him  yet,  but  he  is  terrible 
strong" — "  a  keen  arch  fellow,  too," 
says  the  lawyer,  "  a  robber  no  doubt, 
a  highwayman  ;  I  wonder  if  he  has 
pistols  ?"  "  I  dare  say  he  has,"  says 
one.  "  We'll  go  to  the  village  first,'* 
say  they,  "  and  get  some  muskets, 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


23G  MI8CELLANIOU8. 

and  some  more  help,  and  go  in  search 
of  him,  or  wajr-lay  him,  for  he's  a 
robber  no  doubt — the  people  here 
know  nothing  about  him."  "  As 
likely  as  not  there  is  a  reward  for  him 
now  in  the  papers,"  says  our  lawyer, 
"  it  appeas  to  n>e  that  I  saw  an  ad- 
vertisement describing  very  much 
such  a  man ;  but,  at  any  rate,  we'll 
make  him  fast  for  the  present." 
They  mount  their  horses  and  go  oflj 
towards  the  village.  It  now  began 
to  grow  dark. 


CRAPTBR   III. 

Sophia  had  told  her  mother  con- 
cerning the  rattle-snake,  and  although 
Mrs.  Thompson  was  very  far  from 
being  a  superstitious  woman,  yet  she 
could  not  but  draw  some  favourable 
conclusions  in  her  own  mind,  from 
the  circumstance  that  had  taken 
place. 

A  serpent  was  the  similitude  of  de- 
ception, of  seduction,  of  enmity ;  in 
fact,  the  enemy  of  mankind  was  call- 
ed that  old  serpent,  the  devil.  A  ser- 
pent had  been  destroyed  by  a  stran- 
ger, which  probably,  would  have  de- 
stroyed her  daughter ;  but  her  daugh- 
ter would  not  have  been  exposed  had 
it  not  been  for  this  stranger.  It  was 
in  assisting  him  that  she  became  jeo- 
pardized ;  still  she  might  have  been 
strolling  that  way,  and  might  have 
been  bittea  ky  the  snake,  if  the  stran- 
ger had  never  appeared.  At  any 
rate,  the  facts  were  the  same;  the 
snake  was  killed  by  him,  and  who 
could  say  that  it  was  not  a  favourable 
omen. 

<^  Who  knows,  my  daughter,"  said 
she,  '^  but  that  this  stranger  is  at  least, 
the  harbinger  of  some  good  news  for 
us  ?  I  think  I  have  seen  him  before ; 
and  his  ofiering  in  the  6rst  place  to 
pay  the  debt  and  release  your  father, 
is  a  strong  proof  that  he  fbels  more 
than  common  sympathy  for  our  mis- 
fortunes." "  I  hope,"  said  the  ^Irl, 
**  that  it  may  prove  as  you  predict  5 
he  if  the  finest  looking  man  I  ever 
saw  5  he  appears  to  sensible  j  so  mo- 


dest ;  and  how  glad  was  I  to  see  him 
drag  that  ugly  fellow  out  of  doors.'' 
<'  les,  my  dear,  and  it  was  in  our  de- 
fence, for  which  I  fear  he  will  meet 
with  trouMe."  '<  I  beard  them  tilk- 
ing  together  at  the  corner  of  the 
house,"  says  Sophia,  <^  and  I  thongfat 
they  were  contriving  how  to  way4*y 
him,  and  I  am  afraid  tliey  will  take 
his  life." 

<<  Let  09  pray  for  hia  safety,  and  for 
a  termination  of  our  domestic  troo- 
bles,"  said  the  motller,  and  kneeling 
down  with  her  son  and  daughter  by 
her  side,  th^  girl  read  the  blveniiig 
Prayers  for  a  Family,  from  the  Church 
Common  Prayer  Book,  and  at  the 
end,  her  mother  made  a  short  extem- 
poraneous prayer  in  behalf  of  tbe 
stranger,  and  as  she  closed  her  peti- 
tions, Sophia  pronounced  w^en,  vith 
such  an  nnnsual  emphasis,  that  she 

Iwas  somewhat  frightened  at  the  echo 
of  her  own  voice  in  so  loud  a  sound. 
They  arose  from  their  humble  pos- 
ture, and  at  the  same  moment  a  rap 
was  heard  at  the  door,  at  which  tliey 
all  started,  and  in  comes,  at  the  boy^s 
opening  the  door,  the  person  for 
whom  they  had  been  addressing  the 
Father  of  Mercies — tbe  stranger,  who 
bad  retmrned  from  the  red  mUls. 

"  We  have  just  been  conversii^ 
about  you,"  says  Mrs.  Thompson. 
"  Yes,  and  praying  for  roe  too,"  re- 
turned the  stranger,  "  which  I  over- 
heard as  I  came  op  to  tbe  dow."  The 
ladies  both  blushed ;  for  blushes  will 
sometimes  crimson  the  cheeks  of  tbe 
purest  devotional  being;  they  may 
spring  from  the  warmth  of  devotion 
itself,  as  the  beams  of  the  heavenly 
sun  open  and  Expand  the  buds  of  the 
mornmg  rose.  "  Yea,  sir,"  rejoined 
the  old  lady,  <^  we  were  alarmed  for 
your  safety,  and  feeling  gratdid  for 
the  interest  you  seemed  to  take  in  oar 
forlorn  situation,  we  put  up  our  feeble 
prayers  for  your  success  in  wHttever 
laudable  enterprise  you  are  engaged.'** 
^^  I  thank  you,  madam,"  repli^  he — 
^^  I  can  stay  but  a  moment — ^where 
are  those  ruffians  that  I  saw  here  ?** 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


"  They  went  towards  tJie  village,  sir, 
and  we  fear  they  are  determiDed  to 
injure  you  ;  perhaps  they  will  attack 
you  from  an  ambuscade."  <<  Never 
fear  that,"  says  he,  "  1  am  well  pre- 
pared for  such  fellows.  In  the  mean 
time,  comfort  yourselves  with  the 
hope  of  better  times."  So  saying,  be 
bid  them  good  nigbt,  and  was  offia  a 
moment. 

They  looked  from  the  window,  but 
saw  nothing  except  the  sparks  of  fire 
which  his  horse's  shoes  struck  from 
the  flinty  rocks,  over  which  he  bound- 
ed with  a  full  gallop,  as  tliey  judged 
from  the  sound  of  his  feet.  "  Heaven 
preserve  him,"  cried  the  Mother.  The 
daughter  looked  pale,  and  faintly  ut- 
tered, "  I  HOPE  so." 

During  this  time,  the  lawy^  had 
been  to  the  village,  and  hired  two 
more  men,  armed  with  muskets,  and 
all  five  bad  planted  themselves  in  the 
pine  woods,  at  proper  distances,  to 
seize  the  robber,  as  they  called  him, 
dead  or  alive;  for  they  understood 
from  another  man  in  the  village,  who 
came  with  the  stranger,  and  who  they 
supposed  was  his  accomplice  in  rob- 
bery, as  he  would  give  no  direa  an- 
swers to  their  inquiries,  that  the  stran- 
ger would  positively  be  there  that 
night. 

It  was  about  ten  o'clock  when  our 
stranger  left  the  log  hut,  and  as  he 
entered  the  pine  woods,  an  awful 
black  cloud  hovered  over  the  tops  of 
the  gloomy  pines,  rendered  visible  by 
now  and  then  a  flash  of  lightning,  and 
beginning  to  wave  briskly  to  and  fro 
by  the  gusts  of  wiud  that  began  to  roar 
among  the  branches,  with  claps  of 
heavy  bellowing  thunder. 

He  had  proceeded  a  little  more 
than  half  way  through  the  woods, 
when  he  found  his  horse  suddenly 
slopped  by  two  men  seizing  him  by 
the  bridle,  one  on  each  side.  He 
drew  a  pistol  from  his  pocket,  shot 
one,  who  fell,  and  knocked  down  the 
other  with  the  butt  of  his  whip,  as  he 
put  spurs  to  his  horse ;  but  had  not 
gone  but  a  few  rods,  when  two  mus- 


MISCELLANEOin.  237 

kets  were  discharged  at  him,  the  ball 
from  one  went  through  the  top  of  his 
hat  crown,  and  the  other  cut  a  button 
from  his  vest,  but  did  not  injure  him. 
At  the  same  instant,  all  three  sprang 
in  the  path  before  him,  and  with  the 
butts  of  their  mnskets,  laid  his  horse 
over  the  head,  and  so  staggered  him, 
that,  with  the  others  behind,  who  had 
now  come  up,  being  recovered  from 
their  wounds,  they  succeeded  after  a 
violent  strug^e,  iu  tearing  the  stran- 
ger from  his  horse,  who  had  dis- 
charged another  pistol  among  them 
without  much  effect,  and  had  fought 
most  desperately  with  his  heavy  load- 
ed whip,  and  given  several  of  them 
severe  contusions.     They  made  him 

I  their  prisoner,  pinioned  his  arms  be- 
hind him,  and  led  him  in  triumph  to 

'  the  village,  where  they  secured  him 
under  keepers  until  the  morning. 
[To  be  continued,^ 

From  a  Foreign  Publication. 
HAIR  POWDER. 

To  powder  the  hajj^  and  to  give 
the  colour  one  desires,  is  a  very  old 
fashion.  Josephus  relates,  that  the 
horse  grenadiers  of  king  Solomon, 
used  every  day  gold  powder,  that 
their  hair  might  glitter  in  the  sun. 
The  ancient  beauties  of  Italy  pow- 
dered themselves  even  with  gold. 
Grecian  princesses  ordered  their  body 
guards  to  throw  gold  powder  in  their 
hair.  Among  the  fashionable  per- 
sons of  both  sexes  in  Rome,  fair  hajr 
was  regarded  the  most  beautiful ;  but, 
after  being  painted  and  perfumed,  ac- 
cording to  the  customs  of  Asia,  it  was 
powdered  with  gold.  The  emperors 
Verus  and  Commodus  favoured  par- 
ticularly this  fashion.  The  head  of 
Commodus,  when  in  the  sun,  glitter- 
ed as  if  it  had  been  in  flames. 

The  powder  of  our  days  was,  how- 
ever, unknown  to  the  ancients.  The 
idea,  that  it  dates  only  from  the  pe- 
riod that  wigs  were  invented,  is  not 
right.  It  was  used  long  before,  and 
was  invented  in  France.     Though 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


238 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


it  was  not  common  iu  the  beginning 
of  the  reign  of  Louis  XIV,  this  prince 
certainly  used  it,  without  approving 
it.  It  was  to  please  one  of  his  mis- 
tresses, that  he  Brst  ordered  his  large 
long  black  wig  to  be  powdered. 
Brantome  mentions,  that  Margaretta 
of  Valois,  did  every  thing  in  her  pow- 
er to  make  her  dark  hair  lighter ;  but 
in  vain.  Had,  in  her  time,  1752,  our 
hair  powder  been  invented,  she  would 
have  easily  obtained  her  wishes. 

In  the  beginning,  it  was  regarded 
as  a  sin  to  powder  one's  hair ;  and,  as 
such,  the  priests  excommunicated  it. 
In  an  old  French  Gazette,  of  1593, 
it  is  related  as  a  terrible  reproach, 
that  nuns  were  seen  ^walking  in  the 
streets  of  Paris  with  their  hair  in  curls, 
with  powder.     In  the  end  of  the  sev- 
enteenth century,  the  comedians  were 
the  only  persons  who  powdered  them- 
selves, and  that  only  when  upon  the 
stage  :  when  the  plays  were  over,  they 
combed  out  the  powder.     One  of  the 
causes  why  their   corpses  were  not 
permitted  to  be  buried  in  the  christian 
church  yards  iu  France  and   Italy, 
was  the  sacrilegious  use  of  hair  pow- 
der, according  to  the  pastoral  letters 
of  the  prelates  of  those  times.     In  a 
printed  regulation  concerning  the  po- 
lice of  Paris,  l602,  all  prostitutes  are 
ordered  to  powder  their  hair  on  the 
right  side,  and  to  paint  with  roti^e  the, 
left  part  of  their  faces,  under  pain  of 
being  sent  to  houses  of  correction,  or 
to  convents  of  repentance.     In  the 
same  regulations,  all  gamesters,  bank- 
rupts, and  quacks,  were  ordered  to 
paint  their  noses  with  rouge y  and  to 
powder  the  back  part  of  their  hair,  un- 
der pain  of  being  sent  to  the  gallies. 
Sorcerers  and  witches,  under  pain  of 
being  burnt  with  hot  irons,  were  or- 
dered to  powder  the  fore  part  of  their 
hair,  and  to  paint  the  under  part  of 
their  faces  with  rouge  eouleur  dejeu. 
Three  sorts  of  powder  were  only 
known   formerly;  white,  gray,  and 
black.     Yellow  powder  became  fa- 
shionable fifty  years  ago,  particularly 
when  persons  were  dressed  in  black. 


At  Paris  every  possible  shade  of 
hair  powder,  even  green  and  bbe, 
has  since  been  made  and  used.  In 
the  time  of  Robespierre,  the  fashion- 
able iofu  culottes  of  both  sexes  used 
powder  and  red  wigs,  to  evince  their 
patriotism  and  approbation  of  this 
revolutionary  tyrant's  reign  of  blood. 
Under  the  Directory,  no  powder  was 
worn ;  and  under  Bonaparte,  gray 
and  white  powders  were  most  fiiisfaion- 
able. 


REMARKABLE  INSTANCE  OF 
TEMERITY. 

George  Hastewood,  an  Engitsfa 
soldier,  having  been  taken  in  cc»pa- 
ny  with  twenty-three  Spaniards  by 
prince  Maurice,  it  was  determined 
that  eight  of  them  should  be  hanged 
in  requital  for  a  like  sentence  that  had 
been  made  by  Albert  the  archduke 
upon  some  Hollanders,  and  Hiat  it 
should  be  decided  by  lot  on  whom  the 
punishment  should  fall.  The  En- 
glishman happily  drew  his  deliver- 
ance; but  one  Spaniard  expressed 
great  reluctance,  and  terrour  of  mind, 
when  be  put  his  hand  into  the  helmet 
to  try  his  fate,  not  so  much  in  fear  of 
death,  as  an  antipathy  to  such  an  un- 
natural decision,  in  which  he  might 
make  his  own  hand  destroy  himself, 
and  be  executed  for  tlie  guilt  of  others, 
or  acquitted  for  no  innocence  of  his 
own.  The  Englishman  consented  to 
take  what  money  he  bad,  and  stand 
the  chance  for  him.  The  j udges  con- 
sented also  to  this  request,  as  that  of 
a  fool  or  a  madman,  wlio  deserved 
not  the  life  he  had  providentially  ob- 
tained. Yet  such  his  fortune  was 
that  he  drew  himsdf  safe ;  when  he 
was  asked  why  he  would  put  his  life 
in  such  danger  again  for  the  safety  of 
another,  and  after  such  a  signal  es- 
cape so  presumptuously  to  hazard  it 
a  second  time?  Because,  said  he, I 
thought  I  had  a  bargain  of  it ;  for  coo- 
sidering  that  I  daily  expose  myself  for 
sixpence,  I  thought  I  might  with  more 
reason  venture  it  for  twelve  crowns. 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


POETICAL. 


239 


POETICAL. 

From  the  Masonic  Miscellani/. 

MASONIC  ODE. 

By  John  Pattisjn,  Esq. 

When  darkness  brooded  o'er  the  deep, 
When  Nature  lay  enchained — asleep, 

Or  in  sad  silence  rolled  ; 
'Twas  by  the  IVord  the  day-star  glowed, 
And  light  and  life  together  flowed. 

Upon  the  blushing  world. 

CHORUS. 

All  living  struck  their  untuned  lay^, 
And  echo  first  awoke  in  praise. 

Ere  the  great  ^ehileet  on  high. 
Had  fix'd,  in  radiant  Masonry, 

The  Iris  Arch  so  bright ; 
Our  Craft  bv  wise  mysterious  laws, 
Had  passed  the  word — had  sealed  the 
cause. 

Which  Masons  still  unite. 

CHORUS. 

While  the  broad  Earth  shall  eastward 

turn, 
Our  Lamp  of  Truf/t  shall  lambent  bum. 

As  that  bright  Arch  still  slads  our  eyes, 
And  decorates  the  scowling  skies ; 

The  pledge  of  heaven  to  earth ; 
So  may  our  Temple  rise  to  bless, 
The  Widow  and  the  Fatherless, 

And  shelter  wandVing  worth. 

OHORUS. 

As  Hagar's  prayer  was  heard  on  high 
The  exile  here  shall  cease  to  sigh. 

Wine,  Corn,  and  Oil,  we've  pour'd  upon 
The  Mason's  hope — the  Coroer-Stone ; 

Let  Brttbren  breathe — Amen! 
Meek  CVwrn/^ attends  whh  Love; 
While  Wisdom,  Strength,  and  Beauty, 
prove, 

The  Pillars  of  our  Fane. 

CHORUS. 

Bless  thou  the  work,  our  Master  dread, 
Who  hath.the  Earth's  foundations  laid. 

From  the  Miscellaneous  Register. 
TO  SPRING. 
Hail !  lovely  season,  type  of  youth. 

Parent  of  leaves  and  flowers ; 
Monitor  of  that  solemn  truth, 
Which  springs  in  sober  hours. 

We  hail  thee  as  we  greet  a  friend 
Long  absent  been — and  when 

We  fear  it  is  Ibe  last  we  spend, 
In  <*  three  score  years  and  t^n." 


Tiiou  welcome  messenger  to  earth. 

Sent  by  a  gracious  hand, 
To  add  to  innocence  and  mirth. 

And  fertilize  the  land. 

Without  thy  visitings  aud  smiles, 
Would  there  be  left  to  man. 

Aught  that  in  trouble  now  beguiles, 
In  life's  brief,  little  span.' — 

Would  not  creation  chaos  turn, 

Existence  run  to  waste  ? 
The  sister  seasons  each  would  spurn, 

The  other,  then  misplaced. 

Hail !  lovely  season,  what  to  thee, 

In  recompense  to  pay, 
Have  human  beings,  but  to  be, 

Right,  for  "  the  perfect  day." 
Geneva,  March,  1823. 


RELIGION. 
Bt  William  Rav. 

Ask  but  the  man  who  has  a  head 

Susceptible  of  thought  t 
A  heart  not  all  to  virtue  dead. 

But  feeling  as  it  ought — 

Whether  he  candidly  believes 

Religion  all  a  jest ; 
A  farce  which  purposely  deceive?, 

To  make  the  soul  unbiest  ? 

Would  God,  all-merciful  and  just, 
A  weapon  thus  employ — 

Our  hopes  to  prostrate  in  the  dust. 
And  stab  our  only  joy? 

Ah,  no — what  millions  answer  no, 
^     Who  feel  its  vital  pow'r, 
A  balm  for  ev'ry  poie|nant  wo. 
In  trouble's  painful  hour — 

A  lamp  which  casts  beyond  the  grave 

Its  ever  cheering  ray — 
A  ransom  for  the  hell-hound  slave 

And  endless,  joyous  day^ 

What  can  the  atheist,  in  exchange, 

Give  for  so  great  a  prize  ? 
Annihilation's  lot  (how  strange.) 

For  kingdom's  in  the  skies — 

A  few  base  sordid  pleasures  here, 
Scarce  worth  a  fool's  pursuit ; 

And  for  etemUifr-ti  year ! 
A  seraph  for  a  brute  f 

Blot  from  the  universe  the  sun. 

And  ev'ry  paler  light : 
See  all  creation's  works  undone, 

And  sunk  in  endless  night — 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


240  POBTICAL. 

Take,  ruthleis  infidel,  away, 

Whatever  else  you  can, 
But  leave,  O  leave  us  mtntalday, 

The  light  of  God  to  man. 


TO  A  FRIEND, 

ABOUT  TO   MARRT  A   SECOND   TIME. 

Nt  ftroftetura  precando. — OriD. 

Oh,  keep  the  ring,  one  little  y«ar; 

Keep  poor  Eliza's  ring, 
And  shed  on  it  the  silent  tear, 

la  secret  sorrowing. 

Thy  lins,  on  which  her  last,  last  kiss, 

Yet  lingers  mobt  and  warm. 
Oh  wipe  them  not  for  newer  Wiss, 

Oh,  keep  them  as  a  charm. 

These  haunts  are  sacred  to  her  love, 
Here  still  her  presence  dwells ; 

Of  her  the  grot,  of  her  the  grove, 
Of  her  the  garden  tells. 

Beneath  these  elms  you  sate  and  talk'd; 

Beside  that  river's  brink, 
At  evening  arm  and  arm  you  walk'd, 

Here  stopt  to  gaze  and  think. 

Thou 'It  meet  her  when  thy  blood  beats 
high, 

In  converse  with  thy  bride, 
Meet  the  mild  meaning  of  an  eye 

That  never  learnt  to  chide. 

Oh,  no,  by  heaven,  another  here 
Thou  canst  not,  must  not  bring ; 

So  keep  it— but  one  little  year. 
Keep  poor  Eliza's  ring. 


Br  A  YouKo  Lady  borv  bltvd. 

If  this  delicious,  graceful  flower. 
Which  blows  but  for  a  single  hour. 
Should  to  the  sight  as  lovely  be, 
As  from  its  fragrance  seems  to  me ; 
A  sigh  must  then  its  color  show, 
For  that's  the  softest  joy  I  know. 
And  sure  the  rose  is  like  a  iigb, 
Born  just  to  sooth,  and  then— to  die. ' 
• 

My  father.  When  our  fortune  smiled, 
With  jewels  deck'd  his  eyeless  child : 
Their  glittering  "Worth  the  ^orld  might 

see, 
But,  ah  !  (hey  had  no  charms  for  me. 
Still  as  the  present  fail'd  to  charm, 
A  trickling  tear  bedew'd  my  arm ; 
And  sure  the  gem  to  me  most  dear, 
AVas  a  kind  father's  pitying  tear. 


LITERARY  NOTICE. 


A  new  work,  published  by  Messrs. 
Bliss  &  White,  No.  128  Broadway, 
has  recently  made  iU  appearance, 
entitled, 

"Analytical  Spell  i  ng-Book  :  de- 
signed for  Schools  and  Families  in 
the  United  States  of  America,  and  for 
Foreigners  learning  English.  By 
John  Franklin  Jones,  To  exalt  a 
free  people^  teach  their  chUdrenJ' 

We  have  not  suflSciently  examined 
this  work  to  venture  a  judgment  on 
its  merits  or  demerits.  The  follow- 
ing are  extracts  from  the  author's 
preface. 

"  Thb  little  work  is  an  essay;  tlie 
result  of  twenty  years^  study,  reflec- 
tion, and  practical  experience  in  va- 
rious branches  of  instruction.  If  it 
should  be  well  received,  it  will  be 
rigidly  revised  in  a  second  edition, 
amended  by  every  useful  hint  sug- 
gested, and  will  be  followed  by  an- 
other volume,  giving  a  more  enlarged 
and  seietitific  view  of  the  nature,  mo- 
difications, and  analogies  of  our  lan- 
guage. It  will  also  continue  the 
reading  lessons,  particularly  the 
"  Story  of  Jack  Halyard,"  carried 
into  a  larger  sphere  of  action,  and 
connected  with  a  higher  range  of  hu- 
man knowledge. 

"  The  writer  of  this  has  «e€n,  with 
regret,  and  with  mortification  as  an 
American,  the  facility  with  which 
high  bounding  names  are  obtained  to 
sanction  a  worthless  or  stolen  bode. 
Deeply  impressed  with  the  great  evil 
to  which  this  abuse  has  grown,  be 
neither  asks  nor  wishes  any  letter  «f 
credit  for  the  present  work ;  but  will 
choose  to  have  it  stand  or  fall  by  a 
fair  trial  of  its  merits.  Too  many  of 
the  numerous  teachers  in  our  country 
are  indeed  ignorant  enough ;  but,  as 
a  body,  they  are  not  so  stupid  as  to 
need  a  titled  dunce  to  teil  theio, 
whether  a  spelling-book,  which  be 
has  never  read^  is,  in  his  opinion, 
good  or  bad.*'. 


Digitiz^Joy 


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THE 

AMERICAN 


kWD 


Ladies'  and  Gentlemen's  Magazine* 


BY  LUTHER  PRATT. 


Happy  is  tlie  man  that  findetb  wisdom,  and  the  man  that  getteth  under* 
standing :  for  the  merchandise  of  it  is  better  than  the  merchandise  of  silver^ 
end  the  gain  thereof  than  fine  gold.  She  b  more  precious  than  rubies  :— 
and  all  the  things  thou  canst  desire  are  not  to  be  compared  unto  her. 

Solomon. 


[No.VH.] 


SEPTEMBERy  A.  L«  5823. 


[Vol.  H.] 


MASONIC. 


For  the  Masonic  Rsgistkr. 

CHRISTIAN  MASON, 

NO.  XI. 

BT  COMPANION  SAMUEL  WOODWORTH. 

On  reviewing  our  speculations 
thus  far,  we  discover  that  several 
important  particulars  have  been 
overlooked,  with  which  it  is  neces- 
sary for  the  ChrUtian  Mason  to  be 
made  acquainted.  Among  these, 
the  mysteriout  ladder^  exhibiled  to 
the  patriarch  Jacob  in  a^pdream, 
iiolds  a  conspicuous  place.  To  the 
elucidation  of  tliis  most  extraordi- 
nary and  edifying  dream,  tlie  pres* 
ent  number  shall  therefore  be  de- 
voted. 

In  the  28th  chapter  of  Genesis,  it 
IS  written,  that  Jacob  saw,  in  hb 
dream,  a  ladder  set  vp  on  the  earthy 
and  the  top  of  Ureatied  to  Heaven  ^ 
and  behold  the  angels  of  God  a»- 
cending  and  descending^  on  it; 
and  behold  the  Loud  stood  above  it; 
and  then  in  the  verses,  which  ores- 
ently  follow,  it  is  added,  that  Jacob 

VOL.   II.  31 


nawaked  ouiofhis  <2eqi,  and  he  said^ 
^^  Surely  the  Lord  is  in  this  phce^ 
and  I  knew  it  notJ^  And  he  was 
qfrtddjOndsaid,  ^  How  dreadfid  is 
this  place  f  This  is  none  othHsr  but 
the  house  of  Qod;  and  this  is  the 
gate  of  Heaven.^ 

By  this  instructive  dream,  the  en* 
lightened  Christian  Mason  is  taught 
t^  the  heavenly  truths  derived 
firom  the  word  of  God,  form  the 
steps  of  a  spirOual  ladder^  bywhich 
we  can  asiindfrom  earth  to  Heaven^ 
and  by  which  God  and  his  holy 
angels  can  descend  to  us.  For  who 
cannot  see,  that  as  often  as  we  think 
of  God  and  his  angels,  from  a  pure 
affection^  we  are  present  with  them, 
and  they  with  us?  The  human 
m'md  b  nothing  else  but  its  supreme 
affection  and  thought;  and,  there- 
fore, wTiercsoever  our  supreme  affeO' 
turn  and  thought  is,  there  our  mind 
b ;  and,  consequently,  there  we  are 
ourselves ;  since  our  real  place  will 
always  be  determined  by  that  of  our 
flttit^,  and  not  by  that  of  our  bodies. 
If,  then,  a  man's  mind  be  in  Heaven, 
he  is  there  himself  although  hb 
body  be   still  sqjoumiBg  here  on 

I  Digitized  by  LjOOQIC 


'81 


ut 

earth.  Here,  therefore,  we  can  see 
at  once,  how  our  minds,  or  spirits, 
can  ascend  and  descend^  indepen- 
dent of  our  bodies.  Whenever  we 
thmk  of  GoD^  and  his  kiofdoia, 
from  9l  pure  ufectimiy  we  then  a»•^ 
cend  on  the  myHeriow  ladder  ;  and 
whenever  we  think  of  other  things 
with  more  affection  than  we  think 
of  Uiem,  we  then  descend  from  God 
and  his  kingdom. 

What,  then,  is  this  «ptrt^tia/ Am^ 
dcTy  by  which  the  human  mind  can 
thus  ascend  to  God,  or,  as  is  too 
often  the  case,  descend  to  eartkf 
What  else  can  it  h^  but  tliat  which 
is  instrumental  in  raising  the  mind 
up  towards  God,  and  in  bringing 
down  God  into  the  mind  ?  And 
what  else  can  this  be  but  the  heaven- 
ly truths  derived  from  the  word  op 
God?  For  have  we  not  already 
seen,  that  the  mind  or  spirit  of  man 
ascends  as  it  moves  towards  God 
and  his  kingdom,  with  its  supreme 
thought  and  affection?  But  how 
can  it  either  think  rightly  of  God 
and  his  kingdom,  or  be  righdy  af- 
fected towanis  them,  but  fram  and 
by  his  eternal  woed  ?  If  God  had 
never  revealed  to  man  his  holt 
WORD,  man  would  have  been  utterly 
incapable  of  exercising  either  hb 
thought  or  his  affection  aright  upon 
God,  consequently  of  ascending 
towards.  God.  Every  time,  there- 
fore, that  he  ao  exercises  his  thought 
and  affection,  and  ascends,  he  has  a 
full  proof  and  demonstration,  that 
his  mind  or  spirit  is  indebted  to  the 
instrumental!^  of  the  eternal  word 
of  the  Most  High. 

The  word  of  Gk>D,  then,  b  the 
^ritual  ladder  of  the  soul;  the 
same  ladder  which  the  patriarch 
Jacob  saw  in  hb  dream,  set  on  the 
earthy  and  its  top  reaching  unto 
Heaven,    and    the    Lord  s^andinff 


MASONIC. 

is  tn  Heaven,  and  with  the  Lord, 
as  it  b  written  by  the  Evangelist, 
^  The  WORD  Wis  with  God,  and  the 
word  uhu  God,  and  the  word  laat 
mmdsjlmh,  and  dwelt  amongst  ns." 
Jacobus  ladder,  as  presented  in 
hb  extraordinary  dream,  was  com- 
posed of  many  steps,  corresponding 
to  the  several  steps  or  degrees  ^ 
heavenly  truth  or  knowledge,  con- 
tained in  the  word  of  God,  and  de- 
rived from  it,  whereby  tbe  hontan 
mind  or  spirit  may  ascend  up  to 
God,  and  God  may  descend  down 
to  us.  But  to  discern  cleariy  and 
dbtiuctly  all  the  several  *t^  or 
degrees  of  that  holy  wisdom  by 
which  man,  as  the  psidmbt  express- 
es  it,  climbs  up  into  Heaven,  and  by 
which  Heaven  and  its  King  (as  he 
expresses  it  in  another  piMe)  bom 
themselves  and  come  doiom  to  mas, 
b  a  perfection  of  mind,  and  of  life, 
to  which  few  perhaps  have  attained. 
There  are  three  general  steps,  how- 
ever, with  which  every  enlightened 
mason  is  familiar. 

The^ra^  general  step  in  tbe  spir- 
|4tua1  ladder,  b  the  mere  science  of 
hojy  things,  which  is  attained  l^ 
reading  the  sacred  scriptures.  The 
second  gcncrai  step,  is  die  righthr 
understanding  of  holy  things,  whi^ 
fs  attained  bv  meditating  upon,  and 
digesting  what  we  read  in  the  intel- 
lectual mind.  The  third  gener^ 
step,  b  the  love  of  holy  things,  which 
is  attained  by  reducing  our  know- 
ledge to  practise,  and  suffering  it  to 
infiuence  the  life  and  conversation, 
until  we  love  God  and  hb  kingdon 
above  all  things,  and  our  neighboia 
as  ourselves,  for  then  the  kingdom 
of  Heaven  is  within  us. 

The  first  step  of  the  mytterioMS 
ladder,  or  the  mere  science  of  hofy 
things,  is  the  first  external  notke  of 
heavenly  truth  derived  from  reading 


above  ^  t^      Thb  b  an^  exact  and  |  the  word  of  Goo,  which  enters  no 

further  than  the  memory,  and  is 
there  stored  up  for  future  use,  but 
as  yet  does  not  influence  either  tbe 
understan^ng,  or  the  wiO.    And  id 


true  description  of  God's  holy 
WORD,  which  as  to  its  letter,  or 
Uterai  sense,  is  amongst  men  here 
belew  on  earth,  but  as  to  its  spirit, 


Digitized  by  CjOOQ  IC 


UASONIO. 


£4S 


this  cttse^  it  is  totally  utetess,  because 
truth,  or  knowledge,  which  enters 
no  funher  than  the  memory,  does 
not  enter  into  the-  man,  and  of  con- 
sequence cannot  help  him  to  ascend 
to  his  Maker.  Take  heed,  there- 
fbre,  how  you.  rest  in  this  firtt  step 
of  the  heavenly  ladder,  as  too  many, 
alas  !  are  content  to  do;  for,  in  such 
ease,  you  must  needs  remain  in  that 
lowest  step,  and  can  never  get  up 
higher  towards  the  heavenly  king- 
dom. Be  not  satisfied  with  small 
attainments  in  spiritual  things,  but 
pres9  forward  tawurda  the  MARK. 

The  second  step  of  Jacob's  lad- 
der, or  the  understanding  of  holy 
things,  implies  that  we  consider  well, 
so  as  to  apprehend  the  truths  of 
God's  holy  word,  with  the  intellect- 
ual mind,  by  which  means  we  shal 
tee  them  to  be  truths,  and  begin  to 
be  affected  by  them  as  things  of  the 
first  importance  for  us  to  become 
acquainted  with.  In  this  case,  the 
heavenly  truths  are  rotted  out  of  the 
^:m^morjf  into  a  kighery  or  more  in- 
ward principle  or  faculty  of  the 
mind,  and  thus  they  take  a  faster 
hold  of  us,  and  exoM  us  also  to  a 
higher  siaic  of  thought  and  refiec- 
tkm  respecting  the  great  things  of 
God,  and  of  his  kin^om.  But  let 
the  candidate  again  take  heed,  lest 
he  shouki  stop,  like  too  many  others, 
at  this  second  step  in  the  heavenly 
ladder;  because  the  highest  and 
clearest  understanding  of  holy 
things  cannot  profit  htm,  only  so  far 
as  it  is  a  means  of  conducting  him  to 
heavenly  love  and  life,  which  is  the 
thirds  and  highest  step.  Pause  not 
till  you  attain  it ;  for  a  crown  of  life 
awaits -you. 

The  third  and  Mghest  step  of  the 
heavenly  ladder y  ox  the  love  of  holy 
things,  implies,  that  we  begin  to 
form  our  life  or  love  according  to 
the  understanding  which  we  have 
acquired  from  the  woid  of  God  ; 
especidly  by  noting,  and  renoun- 
cing all  those  corrupt  aflections  and 
tempers,   in  oursehre^   whkh  are 


contrary  to  the  love  of  God  and  'o«t 
neighbour,  sochas  selAlove,  the  love 
of  the  world,  and  the  lusts  of  the 
flesh.  It  implies,  inshbrt,  that  we 
enter  upon  tl^  griat  #oi&  of  repent- 
ance, separation,  pturification,  and 
regeneration  of  life  ;^in  which  oase, 
our  knos^edge  of  heavealy  things  is 
eataUed  into  a  still  higher  or  more  in- 
terior principle  of  our  Hfe,  nearer  to 
God ;  and  we  ourselves  are  of  course 
exalted  with  it,  to  a  closer  commu^ 
Dflon  with  Heaven  and  our  Creator* 

But  take  heed,  (ye  who  expect  a 
reward  for  a  stone  you  never  fash' 
toned)  lest  you  shpuld  fancy  that 
you  can  attain  to  this  highest  step 
in  the  mysterious  ladder,  without  as- 
cending by  the  lower  steps  of  tha 
science  and  intelligence  of  the  word 
of  Crod.  For  as  Jssus  Christ 
speaks  of  those  who  would  cHmb  up 
some  ether  way  into  the  sheepfold, 
rather  than  eit^  tit  by  the  door, 
(which  is  a  thing  impossible)  so  it  is 
alike  impossible  for  you,  to  climb  up 
to  the  top  of  the  heavenly  ladder, 
without  the  aid  of  the  inferior  steps. 
With  the  same  earnestness  let  rae 
give  you  a  further  caution ;  never 
to  rest  on  the  spiritual  ladder^  until 
you  attain  unto  the  third  and  high- 
est  siepf  lest  you  shouki  finally  be 
found  among  those  unhappy  ones, 
who  are  satisfied  with  knowing  their 
Lord's  will,  without  lomngwaddoing^ 
it ;  of  whom  it  is  written,  ^^he  shM 
be  beaten  with  many  stripes,^' 

Want  of  room  will  compel  me  to 
defer  a  further  consideration  of  this 
subject  to  another  number,  when  the 
reader  shall  be  introduced  to  the 
^Angels  who  were  ascending  and 
descendingy^^  on  the  mysterious 
ladder. 


ORATION. 

The  following  oration  was  pro- 
nounced in  Owingsville,  Kentucky, 
on  a  late  celebration  of  the  annnir 
ve^sary  of  St.  John  the  Baptist,  bj 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


244 

brother  Hmnur  Chilss,  jr. 


MAIOKIC. 


warden  of  Webb  Lodge,  No.  55. 

BuTitRBK  Am  Fjusnds, 

There  is  hardly  aoy  shuatioa 
moieeaibarraBfltDgio  a  oublic  speak- 
er, than  Ihat  in  which  the  craroman 
is  plaeed,  when  oaUed  upMi  to  «d» 
diesB  a  nixed  audtlory  on  the  sub- 
ject of  nasonry. 

On  the  <me  hand,  he  feels  him- 
self unpelled  to  Tin^cate  the  ch»> 
racter  of  his  order,  in  the  face  of  the 
woiM,  toreAiceitscaluniniaten,  and 
to  remove  fWmi  the  minds  of  many, 
the  dbgracelUl  prejudices,  and  un- 

Sinerous  impresstons,  which  a  more 
timate  knowledge  of  its  end  and 
-^ksign,  could  not  fall  to  effect  In 
the  prosecution  of  this  laudable  pur* 
pose,  he  is  often  led  by  his  seal  in 
the  cause  of  truth,  to  expose  to  the 
scrutiny  of  a  jealous  worid,  «very 
thing  connected  with  the  order, 
short  ofits  absolute  mysteries.  The 
sacred  recesses  of  the  temple  are 
unfolded,  even  to  the  portal  of  the 
Moncium  tanctonm.  He  treads  in- 
deed the  brink  of  a  precipice,  where 
<me  untoward  step  would  hurl  him, 
in  the  estimation  of  masons,  to  the 
lowest  abyss  of  dbhonour. 

On  the  other  hand,  he  is  remind- 
ed at  every  step  of  |his  progress,  by 
his  h^h  and  solemn  engagements  as 
a  cra&man,  to  watch  with  m€u&mc 
vigikmcej  that  he  be  not  led  in  an 
unguarded  moment,  to  overieap  the 
nephi9  uUra  of  his  limit,  and  that 
the  eye  of  impertinent  curiosity  be 
not  suffered  to  penetrate  the  veil, 
which  covers  every  thing  that  ma- 
sons hold  sacred  and  inviolable. 

In  the  eontempla^on  of  masonry, 
nothing  strikes  the  mind  with  great- 
er astonishment,  than  its  high  anti- 
quity. Millions  of  beings  Imve  clo- 
sed ^eir  eyes  in  death,  since  the  es- 
tablishment of  the,  institution,  which 
was  founded  to  promote  [the  happi- 
ness of  mankind,  and  is  destined  to 
immortality. 
,  Other  societies  have  been  raised 


senior  n  under  the  auspices  of  kingB,priBoes^ 


and  potentates ;  but  theur  ephene- 
raLexislenoe  only  demonstrated  the 
sandy  and  unsti^  Ibundatioos  mt 
which  they  were  erected.  UnaUa 
to  withrtaml  the  corrosive  infliieDoe 
of  time,  tossed  to  and  fro  by  the  an- 
gry passions  c^  man,  th^  were  de- 
vated  to  the  skies,  but  to  be  precipi- 
tirted  to  the  lowest  depths  of  oUi- 
vioQ. 

^Sic  transit  gkrid  mundi.^ 

But  such  has  not  been  the  late  of 
masonry.  Treading  on  the  heels  of 
time,  regardless  of  the  sbalis  of  ridi- 
cule, or  the  attacks  of  cahiomy;  le* 
gardless  alike  of  the  coovuIsmbs  of 
the  physical  or  moral  worid,  it  hai 
marched  on  to  tlie  cowsammetion  of 
the  glorious  purposes  <^  itsiostitiH 
tion,  illuminating  the  world  at  every 
step  ofits  progress,  with  tlie  r^rs  of 
science  and  learning,  dispelfing  the 
clouds  of  superstition  and  barbsonsra, 
in  which  the  intellect  of  unouhiv»^ 
ted  man  is  enveloped,  and  harsting 
asunder  the  shackles  of  mental  sla- 
very. By  its  fostering  hand,  the 
science  of  architecture  was  redeeui- 
ed  from  chaos  and  cctoftuion.  Id 
imagination  the  masonic  ^e,  from 
the  contemplation  of  the  utensdi 
and  implements,  that  are  now  exhi- 
bited, only  as  the  emblems  of  tlie 
order,  is  led  back  to  tliat  remote  pe- 
riod when  science  and  architectore 
were  blended,  and  may  there  sur- 
vey, in  solenm  admiration,  the  an* 
tk|ue  monuments  of  infant  masomy. 
Fancy  may  be  indulged,  tdi  sat»l 
with  sights  of  grandeur,  it  re:^  ia 
silent  astonishment  on  the  masonic 
columns  of  the  sacred  teazle. 
Moriah's  mount,  consecrated  to  the 
purposes  of  the  Deity,  was  destined 
to  bis  the  foundation  of  the  noldot 
edifice  that  human  wisdom  ooald 
devise,  or  human  iogeno^  exe- 
cute. 

But  why  need  I  attempt  a  de- 
scription ?  Its  fame  will  sturvive  the 
rums  of  time,  and  its  gnm^ur  «ad 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MASONIC. 


249 


magnificeoGe  astoiuah  llie  remotest 
agea. 

When  the  cape  stone  af  this  stii^ 
pendous  edifice  was  laid,  and  joy 
and  hilarity  filled  the  temple,  an 
evem  transfMred,  the  recollection  of 
which,  even  at  this  remote  period, 
im  calculated  to  excite  the  liveliest 
anxiety  in  the  bosom  of  every  en- 
lightened craftsman.  Mid  the  din 
of  festive  mirth,  the  voice  of  mourn- 
ing is  heard  to  resound  throu^  its 
magnificent  halb,  and  porticoes; 
the  diabolical  machinations  of  a  few, 
bad  convulsed  the  sublime  serenity 
of  the  whole;  the  murky  clouds  of 
an  eternal  oigbt  lowered  thick  upon 
the  horizi^  of  the  masonic  day,  and 
threateu^  to  veil  in  darkntti  for- 
ever, the  brightest  luminary  that 
ever  adorned  and  enlightened  tlie 
intellectual  workl.  The  dying  taper 
glimmered  in  the  socket,  and  the 
iKHir  had  arrived,  that  was  about  to 
dose  forever  the  lights  of  masonry. 
But  when  the  fair  prospect  of  human 
felicity^  appeared  to  be  closed  for- 
ever, no  longer  beaming  with  d^ 
Hght,  but  overspread  with  clouds 
and  darkness,  on  a  sudden  the  ge- 
nius of  masonry,  burst  throoffh  Uie 
sombre  eloom  that  encio^led  her, 
and  glaodened  with  her  smiles  the 
desponding  craftsman. 
.  Like  the  fable  of  the  phcBnix,  she 
arose  renewed,  from  the  ashes  of 
her  own  confiagration. 

In  scanning  the  merits  of  mason- 
ry, I  am  compelled,  reluctantly, 
tnough  necessarily,  to  pause  by  the 
way,  in  order  to  answer  objections 
which  have  been  chamd  upon  the 
crafl;  charges  as  filtite  as  they  are 
unfounded,  as  illiberal  as  they  a^e 
unjust ;  but  happily  for  the  institu- 
tion, purity  b  not  contaminated, 
thoii^h  in  contact  with  pollation; 
virtue  is. not  confounded  with  vice, 
Bor  truth  subverted  bythefli^mn- 
cy  of  falsehood. 

In  countries  where  despo^m  has 
usurped  the  seat  ai  hm^  and  the 
sword  of  justice  givtil  jptooe  to  die 


tyrant's  sceptre,  the  lodge  is  stig- 
matized as  the  midnight-conclave, 
whose  spirit  of  disaflfection  and  re- 
bellion may  assume  its  wonted  tone 
of  audacity,  and  plots  of  murder 
and  revolution  be  matured  in  safe' 
ty ;  and  in  allaountries,  (the  kmd  of 
liberty  and  toleration  not  excepted) 
her  enemies  ever  fertile  in  invention, 
and  vindictive  in  penecutioa,  have 
depicted  her  in  the  most  hideous  co- 
lours; as  the  very  sink  of  corrup* 
tion,  vice,  and  profligacy;  as  the 
secret  centre,  around  winch  the  sat- 
tellites  of  darkness  revolve,  scatter- 
ing the  seeds  of  sedition,  ^faction, 
aikl  treason.  But  how  foolish  and 
inconsistent  are  these  charges !  How 
wicked  and  contemptible  the  being 
who  presumptuously  undertakes  to 
publish  to  the  world  the  end  and 
design^  the  vices,  and  virtues,  of  an 
institution  of  which  he  is  as  igno- 
rant as  of  the  events  of  futurity. 

Did  the  occasion  require  it,  I 
could  summon .  myriads  of  living 
witnesses,  patrons  of  religion,  and 
ornaments  of  our  society,  who  could 
testify  to  its  purity. 

Were  it  necessary,  I  wouki!point 
the  attention  of  this  respectable  au- 
ditory to  men  of  other  times,  the 
memory  of  whose  virtues,  philan-- 
thropy,  aikl  patriotism,  will  be  reg- 
istered on  the  minds  of  the  latest 
generation,  and  whose  fame,  monu- 
ments of  brass  or  marble  are  not 
sufficiently  durable  to  commemo- 
rate;  suffice  it  to  say,  that  a  Frank- 
Ilin,  a  Webb,  a  Warren,  and  a  Wasb- 
iaffton,  were  masons. 
But  we  are  told  that  the  institu* 
tion  is  fraught  with  vice;  but  how  is 
this  foul  charge  established  ?  Not 
by  iavestigatim  its  merits,  by  ob- 
serving the  inauen6e  it  has  upon 
civilizaticm,  «id.  moral  improve- 
ment; but  by  the  indulgence  of  a 
low,  unmttily  prejudice,  by  attach- 
iog  to  the  whole  fiatemity,  the  foi- 
bles and  weaknesses  of  an  unfortu- 
nate mendber.  Against  this  mode 
of  lestisg  the  purity  of  the  ordei:^ 

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246 

we  enter  our  solemn  protest;  we 
make  no  pretensions  to  perfection ; 
we  pretend  not  to  be  the  creatures 
ofinfkUibility,  for  it  is  "human  to 
err,"  and  we  have  only  to  regret 
that  our  enemies  have  not  thought 
it  "divine  to  forgive.*' 

Why  need  I  invoke  the  shades  of 
departed  worth,  or  call  to  my  aid 
thehost  of  luminaries,  whose  trans* 


MASOBitC 

sacred  and  tnvielai>le,  to  exort  eveiy 
faculty  in  lessening  the  sura  of  hu- 
man affliction.  It  is  here  that  we 
are  taught  to  be  incessant  in  the 
practice  of  true  and  gemiine  friead- 
ship,  which  may  be  justly  esteemed 
one  of  the  subliroest  attributes  of 
the  haman  soul;  its  duration  is  non 
measured  by  the  incidents  of  bMk 
or  fortune ;  its  sweets  are  nat  em- 
cendant  virtues,  and  resplendent  tal-    bittered  by  adversity,    nor  ks  des 


ents,  are  at  this  day  the  pillars  of 
the  state,  and  the  highest  encomium 
on  the  character  of  masonry. — 
Would  you  know  her  true  charac- 
ter, follow  her  footsteps;  whereso- 
ever she  has  gone,  ignorance  has 
given  place  to  reason ;  superstition 
to  vital  religion,  and  night-bound 
barbarism  to  the  sunshine  of  moral 
improvement.  Every  climate  is 
congenial  to  her  growth;  every  na- 
tion conversant  with  her  language. 
Under  her  mild  influence,  the  sa- 
vage forgtts  his  wonted  ferocity, 
and  brutal  vengeance  no  longer 
clouds  his  brow.  The  angry  pas- 
sions are  lulled  to  sleep  by  the  mel- 
ody of  her  voice,  and  rude,  unculti- 
vated man,  awed  by  the  majesty  of 
her  presence,  participates  in  the 
benefits  of  union,  peace,  and  social 
intercourse. 

Whilst  discord  is  rending  in  twain 
religious  societies  of  every  denomi- 
nation ;  whilst  ambition  is  erecting 
an  altar,  for  the  indiscriminate 
slaughtei  of  the  human  fkmily;  and 
fanaticism  is  wading  through  seas  of 
firatracidal  blood,  masonry  is  point- 
ing with  the  finger  of  Minerva  to 
sbenes  where  the  **  weary  shall  find 
rest,  and  the  wicked  cease  Axha 
troubling.'^  In  her  peaceful  train 
of  followers,  no  vindictive  |mest  is 
seen,  hurling  the  shafts  of  hl^  anath- 
emas and  maledictions;  no  disap- 
pointed demagc^gue  denouncing 
vengeance  on  his  more  successful 
rival;  no  fiend  of  darkness  medita- 
ting the  murder  of  kings,  or  the  rain 
of  empires.  It  is  here  that  we  are 
admonished  by  ties  at  once  the  most 


strengthened  by  prosperity.  Whe- 
ther in  the  bustle  of  the  world,  or 
the  rettremetit  of  the  cloialer;  in 
power,  or  in  subjection ;  or  m  what 
situation  soever  an  adventitious  for- 
tune may  place  you,  it  is  the  trai»- 
cendant  boon  of  Heaven. 

Chirity  has  ev^  been  considered 
a  prominent  and  characteristic  vir- 
tue of  masons.  To  relieve  disoeas 
is  a  duty  incumbent  on  all,  but  par* 
ticularly  on  the  members  of  our 
order.  And  where  we  see  that  the 
proudest  effort  of  the  human  uader- 
fttaoding,  that  tne  utmost  ken  of 
mortal  divination,  is  totally  utade* 
quate  to  guard  us  against  the  vicissi- 
tudes, which  befal  us  at  every  step 
of  our  journey  through  life ;  that 
the  head  o€  virtue,  is  often  made  to 
wear  a  ccown  of  thorns,  and  the  heb 
of  immortahty,  to  sufi^  the  agooiii 
of  crucifixion ;  when  we  reflect  that 
the  world  is  a  thorny  and  pathlets 
wilderness,  where  the  traveller  steps 
with  caution,  and  looks  around  ai 
every  pause  with  eonscioos  dread, 
and  that  the  world's  friendship  n  a 
shadow  which  foUoiRS  wealto  and 
fame,  we  are  compelled  to  admit, 
that  the  practice  of  charity,  is  the 
noblest  office  of  mankttid;  than 
which,  the  whole  catalogue  of  vir> 
tue,  religious  or  moral,  sacred  or 
profane,  presents  not  oae  sMrt 
genefous,  amd  Godlike. 

From  the  practice  of  thete  ezab» 
ed  vUtues,  are  derived  the  ehoioeit 
benefits  of  masonry.  Perhaps  I 
may  be  asked,  what  are  these  boast- 
ed benefits?  As  well  might  I  be 
asked  the  advanta^  of  the  smt 


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,  MAtomo. 

As  the  one  is  to  the  natural  world, 
90  is  the  other  to  tlie  nK>ral ;  as  the 
one  enlightens  and  invigorates  the 
external  parts  of  creation,  so  does 
the  other  reach  the  recesses  of  the 
heart  The  dew  of  heaven  is  not 
more  grateful  to  the  fading  cassia, 
than  are  the  healing  consolations, 
which  the  genius  of  masonry  pours 
into  the  hcwom  of  affliction. 

It  is  the  peculiar  consolation  of 
the  mason,  when  extended  on  the 
bed  of  death,  when  every  earthly 
lie  is  dissolving,  and  the  domestic 
affecdons  press  upon  the  heart,  to 
reflect  that  when  his  hand  is  cold, 
there  shall  be  one  whose  valour 
shall  protect  the  weakness,  and 
whose  munificence  supply  the  wants 
of  hb  widow,  and  his  orphan ;  that 
when  his  lifeless  corse  shall  sleep  in 
silence,  in  the  narrow  vault,  that 
theie  shall  be  for  his  bereaved  part* 
ner,  a  thousand  protectors,  and  for 
his  children  a  thousand  fathers. 

But  its  benefits  are  not  confined 
to  the  widow,  and  the  orphan,  nor 
to  those  who  are  writhing  under  the 
cold  grasp  of  penury. 

The  objects  of  its  bounty  are  as 
varied  as  the  miseries  of  human 
life. 

Mid  the  dash  of  swords,  on  the 
hard-fought  field,  where  the  iron 
clangour  of  arms  resounds,  and  mur- 
der stalks  up  and  down  the  ensan- 
guined plain  with  the  mangled  tro- 
phies of  victory ;  where, 

With  streamiiig  blood  the  slippery  fields 
are  dyM, 

And  alaoghterM  heroes  swell  the  dread- 
ful tide. 


In  this  hour  of  death,  the  ma^sonic 
sign  is  a  passport  to  life. 

Bmtriubn, 

We  have  seen  an  institution  which 
boasts  the  most  venerable  antiquity ; 
for  its  birdi  was  the  buth  of  creation, 
we  have  seen  it  distinguished  for  the 
practice  of  every  generous  virtue,and 
which,  like  the  glorious  luminary  of 


247 
and  strength,  and  vigour,  to  the 
world;  and  yet  this  institution  has 
enemies.  It  is  a  circunistaoce  that 
reflects  the  deepest  disgrace  upon 
human  nature,  and  presents  the  foul- 
est blot  OB  the  historian's  page* 
If  there  be  any  such  present,  let 
them  offer  up  their  prejudices,  a  mer- 
itorious sacrifice  on  the  altar  of  truth, 
for  they  little  know  the  ills  they  aim  at. 

Could  the  enemy  of  this  instiution 
accomplish  his  fell  purpose,  he  would 
close  the  door  that  is  ever  inviting 
the  beninighted  traveller  to  refresh- 
ment and  repose;  he  would  palsy  the 
hand  that  is  extended  to  feed  the 
famished  mendicant,  and  snatch  from 
its  grasp  the  crutch  of  decrepitude, 
he  would  dash  from  its  hold,  the  cup 
that  is  to  pour  oil  into  the  wounds 
of  a  war-worn  soldier,  and  rend  the 
bandage  that  is  to  bind  them. 

In  imitation  of  him  whose  say- 
ings are  worthy  of  all  manner  of 
acceptation,  I  can  only  ofier  up  his 
ardent  ejaculation,  "  Father,  forgive 
them,  for  they  know  not  what  they 
do.'' 


Bbethren, 

In  conclusion,  suffer  me  to  ap* 
proach  you  in  the  character  of  a 
monitor.  Let  me  exhort  you  to  pre- 
serve inviolate  the  m^'steries  of  the 
order;  for  they  are  the  pillars  on 
which  rest  the  basis  of  the  whole 
temple.  .Remove  them,  and  the 
structure,  whose  high  antiquity  and 
inimitable  grandeur,  has  astonished 
the  world,  for  near  six  thousand  years, 
tumbles  at  once  in  promiscuous  ruin 
to  the  ground.  To  obtain  from 
masons  a  knowledge  of  their  mys- 
teries, has  ever  been  the  favourite 
object  of  despots,  and  tyrants;  the 
invention  of  human  ingenuity  has 
been  exhausted  to  accomplish  this 
unholy  purpose;  even  the  tortures 
of  the  infernal  Inquisition  have  been 
applied.  The  miserable  victim  of 
brutal  curiosity  is  extended  on  the 
rack,  the  eye  balls  start  from  their 
K sockets;    every  nerve  aud  fibre  is 


day,i$everdispensing  light, and  life n rent  in  twain;   but  the  lips  of  the 

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248 


MASOKIO. 


expinoe  maiiy  are  sealad  in  holy 
tileiicer  the  iecret  is  locked  in 
his  faithful  bosom,  and  ^deaeenda 
wkh  him  to  the  grave — 

^*  Mmui  aha  menie  reptmtwm,^ 
If  tberc^  be  an  object  in  creation, 
that  shoald  merit  the  admiration  of 
mankind,  and  the  smiles  of  Heaven, 
it  roust  be  the  man  whose  life  is 
devoted  to  the  cause  of  suffering 
humanity.  His  youth  is  the  dawn- 
ing of  every  virtue,  and  when  he 
has  passed  the  acme  of  manhood, 
and  begins  to  tread  the  down-hill 
of  life,  he  retraces  in  perspective 
the  actions  of  his  youth,  and 
throughout  tlie  chequered  page 
tfiat  records  his  histoir,  sees  no 
blot,  no  stain.  His  departure  is 
the  close  of  a  tranquil  evenrog; 
no  cloud  obsenres  his  rising  sun; 
no  storm  deforms  his  closuig  day. 
Brethren, 

Go  thou  and  do  likewise;  let 
your  end  be  like  his,  and  when 
the  last  hour  draws  near,  and  hu- 
man institutions  begin  to  fade 
from  the  sight,  your  eyes  as  with 
an  inmiortal  glance,  shall  penetrate 
the  veil  that  bounds  the  ken  of 
mortal  vision,  and  rest  with  exstacy 
on  scenes  beyond,  where  the  bright^ 
est  hopes  sliall  be  realized. 


From  the  MAsomc  Casket. 
Mr.  Editor, 

The  following  was  spoken  by  a 
virtuous  young  mason,  when  called 
on  for  a  ientimeniy  while  at  refresh-' 
meat.  He  first  spake  of  the  happi- 
ness he  enjoyed  in  meeting  with  his 
brethren  is  the  iodg^,  and  the  pleas- 
ing instructk>n  contained  in  the  lec- 
tures, then  proceded  as  follows : 

"  When  I  see  around  me,  multi- 
tudes of  human  beings;  inhabitants 
of  the  same  planet;  some  rising  to 
wealth,  opuIfince,'and  power,  while 
^men,  apparently  more  deserving 


by  them  are  slighted,  suiik  intopov* 
erty,  disgrace,  and  despair;  whea 
I  see  the  pampered  mofUdPcfa  on 
histhrone,  heedless  of  the  c<Hiditions 
of  all  but  himself,  while  his  fyMM 
and  industrious  subjects  are  fighting 
his  battles,  by  sea,  and  by  Ifund,  at 
the  hazard  of  life,  and  every  tlm^ 
dmtis  deartotiiem — IjMiiise — and 
ask^'Hath  God  rtnrs  ordained  tbst 
men  should  live  ? 

^<  When  1  see  around  this  akar, 
all  classes  and  doEiominfttions  made 
equal ;  the  king  on  a  level  with  his 
subjects,  the  sul:jects  equal  to  the 
prince,  I  smile  delighted ;  for  So, 
hath  God  ordained  ^at  men  shoaUl 
live. 

^  When  I  see  one  nation  arrayed 
in  arms  against  another ;  see  them 
rash  to  the  field  of  battle,  with  ven- 
geance in  their  hearts,  and  weapons 
of  death  in  their  hands;  see  them 
kill  and  destroy  each  other  as  they 
would  beasts  of  pr^,  though  all  A 
the  same  kindred,  und  descendants 
from  the  same  heavenly  parent ;  I 
am  astonished — hath  God  thus  or- 
dained that  men  shoiM  live  ? 

^  But  when  I  see  aroud  the  shrine 
of  our  order,  the  bloody  warriors  of 
each  party,  united  in  one  cause,  heal- 
ing each  odiers  wounds,  and  gliding 
each  other  to  safety  and  happiness, 
my  heart  throbs  widi  joy.  So  hath 
God  ordained  that  men  should  live. 

^  When  I  see  among  my  own 
friends  and  kindred,brother  dinering 
from  brother,  both  striving  to  injtire 
each  other,  in  property,  character, 
or  fedings,  and  when  I  lo<^  into  my 
own  heart,  and  find  myself  tra]dica- 
ted  in  this  violation  of  that  true  &idi, 
which  aU  should  hold  sacred,  I  shud- 
der at  the  thought  hath  God  thits  Q^ 
dained  that  men  shouM  live  ? 

^  But  when  I  meet  within  these 
walls,  the  oppressor  and  the  oppress- 
ed, die  accuser  and  the  accused,  the 
offender  cheerfully  asking  pardon, 
and  the  offended  as  cheerfiilly  grmxtr 
ing  it,  when  I  see  enemies  becom- 
ing friends,  no  longer  warring  with 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


each  other,  bpt  forgetting  each  oth- 
er's faults,  and  applauding  each  oth- 
er's vhrtues,  tnen  my  whole  ^ul  is 
animated  with  joy  and  gladness,  if  I 
weep  it  is  to  contribute  a  tear  of  g^t- 
kude  to  the  God  of  virtue,  who  first 
instigated  me  to  become  a  member 
of  this  holy  orderj  where  all  id  peace 
and  harmony,  all  forgitenesdj  kll 
kindness,  and  brotherly  loVe.  So, 
hath  God  ordained  that  men  should 
live. 


MASONIC.  249 

among  al)our  fellow  travellers  on  the 
high  iroad  to  that  heavenly  mansion 
to  which  Our  lectures  allude.  Let 
lis  endeavour  to  l^eal  the  wounded 
hearts  of  those  whose  Vnisfbrtunes 
have  made  them  mel^choly,  by 
contributing  our  mite  to  their  good 
names,  and  offering  excuses  for  their 
faults.  Let  us  endeavour  to  promote' 
such  a  confidence  in  each  otner  that 
no  one  will  be  afraid  to  open  his 


-  "Now,  mv  brethren,  lei  us  all, 
when  abroad  in  the  world,  unitie  in 
this  noble  calling,  of  quelling  dis- 
cords, stilling  the  tongue  of  slander,  I  accepted  masons  should  live.", 
and  promoting  peace  and  harmony, " 


whblb  soiil  to  his  brother,  and  dis- 
close his  af&ietions  and  their  causes^ 
then  it  will  b^  found,  to  the  end,  that 
Sow  hath  God  ordained  that  free  and 


THE  SCOTTISH  KmK> 

As  a  wild  rake  that  tburts  a  virgin  fair^ 

And  tries  in  Vain  her  virtue  to  ensnare^ 

Though  what  he  calls  his  heay'n  he  may  obtain^ 

By  putting  on  the  matrimonial  chain: 

At  length  enrag'd  to  find  she  still  is  chaste^ 

Her  modest  fame  maliciously  would  blast  ^ 

So  some  at  our  fraternity  do  rail,    • 

Because  our  secrets  we  so  well  conceal, 

And" curse  the  sentry  with  the  flaming  sword, 

That  keeps  eve-droppers  fVom  the  masons'  word  ^ 

Though,  rightly  introduc'd,  all  true  men  may 

Obtain  our  secrets  in  a  lawful  way. 

They'd  have  us  counter  to  our  honour  run/ 

Do  what  they'll  blame  us  for  when  done } 

And  when  they  find  theur  teazinff  will  not  d0|    1 

Blinded  with  anger,  height  of  folly  sho^r,  «?        > 

Bv  ratling  at  the  thing  they  do  not  know.  3 

mt  so  the  assembly  of  the  Scottish  kirk, 

Their  wisdoms  went  a  wiser  way  to  work : 

When  they  were  told  that  masons  practis'd  charms^ 

Invok'd  the  de'il,  and  rais'd  tempestuous  storms, 

Two  of  their  body  prudently  they  sent. 

To  learn  what  could  by  masonry  be  meant. 

Admitted  to  the  lodge  and  treated  well, 

At  their  return  the  assembly  hop'd  they'd  tell. 

"  We  say  nea  mere  than  this,"  they  both  reply '4> 

^'  Do  what  we've  done,  and  ye'U  be  sadsfy'd." 


Church. 


VOL.  1T» 


32 


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25a 


UASO^^IC. 


Extract  of  a  letter  from  brother 
John  Manuj  Jmiffr^  master  of 
Union  Lod^Cy  Oxford,  Newhamjn 
shire f  to  the  editor  of  tJtt  Moion- 
ic  Casket. 

D£AR  Sir, 

Last  week  I  was  presenterf  with 
your  first  mmiber  of  tlie  Masonic 
Casket,  which  I  pcfBsrd,  and  Was 
pleased  with.  Shonlcf  the  future 
numbers  be  filled  with  useful  and  rn- 
teresting  matter,  I  think  it  may  be 
profitable  to  yourself,  and  promote 
the  honour  and  utility  of  the  society 
of  wjiicbyotrare  a  member. 

Permit  txsCf  dear  brother,  to  sug- 
gest the  necessity  of  a  moral  and  re- 
hgious  reform  among  our  brethren, 
and  in  all  our  lodges.  Our  Oreat 
High  Priest  will  not  meet  ^ 
bless  us,  until  we  seek  him  more 
eamesilyf  constantly y  ami  fervently. 
Will  ^ou  let  vour  Casket  aid  fn  this 
happy  work  r  It  Is  time  that  ma- 
sons should  view  and  beUevey  as  an- 
ciently, that  our  institution  is,  and 
ought  to  be,  religious^  as  well  as 
moral. 


give  it  a  place  in  your  Masonic  Mugr 
azine.  •  • 

I  am,  dear  sir,  your  brotber 
in  the  bonds  of  masonry, 
W.  K.  T. 
Princeton,  N.  J.  April,  1823^- 

DaPENCE  of  MiKSONRT^ 


German  Frrcbtf. 
God  suffers  men. to  partake  of 
tmlimit^  and   eternal   happiness. 
Strive  to  resemble  this  divine  origin- 
al, by  making  all  mankind  as  hap- 


The  ark  of  fi-eemasonry  has  ofteil 
been  assailed  with  the  utmost  vio- 
lence. Calumniators  have  employ- 
ed their  pens  dipped  lA  the  venom 
of  malice,  to  RHollute  ks  purity. 
Their  satanie  snaAs  have  been  lev- 
elled agamst  its  very  vitals:  bat 
amidst  all  these  attacks,  it  has  re- 
mained unshaken ;  and  standing  an 
ur  yre€ii  ^^  pillars  of  peace  and  benet  okaoe, 
with  and  n  ^^^^  ^y^^  ^^j^j^  assaulla  of  io  ene- 
mies, liere,  ft-Hmdship,  order,  bar- 
|.  mony,  truth,  and  purity,  are  blended 
together  like  the  colour»of  therai»' 
bow,  forming  an  arch  of  imri\iilled 
beauty.  But  the  objector  coming 
forward,  says  it  is  a  secret,  and 
I  therefore  a  violation  of  the  com- 
mand. <Met  your  l^bt  shine  belsvp 
men,''  &c*  Bot  kt  us  weigh  thi* 
objection ;  and  discover  its  fallacy^ 
How  are  we  to  *^  let  our  light  shii^ 
t  before  meH?'^  By  Kving  a  Hfe  cor- 
respondent to  enrprrfesmon*  LetBS 
scrutinize  the  life  of  the  genuine 
mason.    We  behold  him  actuated 


E.!L^rJ"::?^r^^«^JS  :bypH.«iple.U«t  dignify  and  *«h 


be  imagined,  which  ou^ht  not  to  be 
an  object  of  thy  activity'.  Let  ef- 
fectuid  and  universal  benevolence 
be  the  phanbline  of  thy  actions. — 
Anticipate  the  cries  of  the  misera- 
ble, or,  at  least,  do  not  reman  insen- 
sible to  them. 


For  the  Masonic  RsotsTER. 
My  Dear  Brothtt  Pratt, 

^I  send  you  this  short  defence  of 
masonry,  which  was  from  die  pen  of 
a  worthy  brother,  and  request,  if  it 
meet  your  approbation)  you  would 


human  nature  ^  moved  by  these  feel- 
ings, which  only  could  arise  ia  a 
heart  imbued  with  the  most  refined 
beoevol^Ke,  and  possessed  with  the 
greatest  purity  of  intention.  There- 
fore the  mason  dee»  '^ftt  hh  light 
shine  before  men^"  Can  any  one 
doubt  this  assertion?  i  would  ask 
him,  what  have  masons  done  in 
.Hartford  and  Newhaveny  Cosnec- 
ticut,  and  ui  Louisville,  Kentucky? 
They  have  ibrmed  Missionary  Soci- 
eties, whose  operations  will  madoobi- 
edly  be  coextensive  with  the  globe; 
\  acnf  whose  infiuence  will  be  felt,  ia 
the  most  remote  comers  of  the  eairth. 


Digitized 


byGoogk 


UA80KIC. 


251 


Does  not  tliis  display  benevolence 
of  souly  and  a  flame  of  love  enkin- 
dled by  «  Heaven's  own  fire?'*  This 
spark  has  long  glowed  in  their  bo- 
fiOTOS^till  at  length  it  bursts  forth  in  a 
resistless  flame,  wbicfa  like  the  elec- 
tric flnid,  will  communie«te  from 
bosom  to  bosom,  and  from  lodge 
to  lodge,  «ntii  every  freemason, 
from  Maine  to  New-Orleans,  shall 
listen  to  the  cry  of  distress,  wafted 
to  America,  from  the  shores  of 
Western  Asia.  Will  any  object, 
because  it  has  not  manifested  itself 
before  ?  Iwoukl  ask,  why  has  the 
Are  of  benevolence  been  so  long 
concealed  in  the  Christian's  heait? 
This  ipterrogatory  is  equally  appli- 
cable to  both,  and  tbe  same  reasons 
.may  be  assigned.  The  darkness, 
which  has  so  long  brooded  ov^r  the 
world,  is  now  retiring  before  the  full 
blaze  of  sacred  truth,  and  the  t^iom 


direct  tendency  to  defeat  his  ovn 
plans,  and  ruin  his  country.  The 
same  would  be  said  of  our  national 
councils,  should  their  members  bla- 
zon abroad  every  secret  purpose 
and  design.  Then  why  is  the  ma- 
son calumniated,  because  he  does  not 
develope  the  secret  niysteries  of  his 
fraternity  ?  ShoHld  we  tear  the  vail 
from  its  sanctuajry,  how  soon  would 
it  be  pollu^^ed  by  the  unhallowed 
touch?  impostors  would  entrench 
themselves  m  its  ptvrity^  and  avail 
themselves  of  the  true  masonic  rites. 
Is  the  exclusien  of  feosales  brought 
fopWard  as  an  objection?  Jjt  is  nu- 
gatory. For  this  is  necessary  to  si^- 
leaee  ithe  venomous  tons ue  of  slan- 
der, and  fo  ward  ofl"  me  darts  of 
calumny.  The  argumem  of  Gama- 
liel, clotlied  in  aU  its  force,  stands 
up  in  defence  of  masonry,  ^*  for  if 
this  counsel^  or  this  work,  be  of  men^ 


ing  Star  of  masonry  begins  to  shine  I  it  witt  come  to  nought."    But  fto^ 
forth  in  its  native  beauty.     But  the    far  otherwise  has  it  been?  Masonry, 


objector  continues,  "this  is  not  the 
character  of  every  member  of  that 
fcaternity."  I  would  ask  is  there  a- 
py  association  of  men  in  this  ^  pollu- 
ted world,  whose  purity  remains  un- 
sullied. Where  shall  we  look  ?  not 
among  any  society  of  fallen  man, 
not  even  the  church.  Therefore 
jthis  objection  can  have  no  greater 
weight,  than  it  woujd  if  brought 
against  the^  truth  pf  ti\e  Christian 
religion.  How  dare  any  one  in- 
veigh against  Christ,  and  his  disci- 
ples, because  avij^e  tiaitor  was  found 
Jn  theii-  number?  Why  then  is  this 
uncharitable  disposition  manifested 
towards  the  members  of  the  mason- 
ic fraternity  t  The  fact,  that  it  is  a 
secret,  does  no  more  militate  agaijist 
masonry,  than  it  does  ng^insf,  the 
councils  of  the  cabmet,  because  ev- 
ery subject  is  not  acquainted  with 
them.  What  would  be  said  of  a 
commanding  officer  in  the  army  or 
navy,wbo  shoi^ld  disclose  alibis  im- 
portant plans  to  iBv.ery  private  jwid 
servant?  All  would  at  once  say,  that 
Ae  disdo^yr^  would  )iave  the  most 


and  the  doctrines  of  the  bible  have 
remained  unsullied,  and  unmoved^ 
while  empires,  and  all  the  ensigns 
of  royalty,  and  the  splendid  associ- 
ations of  men,  have  been  corrupted^ 
and  buried  in  oblivion.  The  pro- 
tecting wing  of  Providence,  has  long 
brooded  over  jthis  frat^rniity^  mi 
sheltered  it  TrofB  impendinf  ruin. 
This  proves  that  it  has  been  design- 
ed by  the  Supreme  Aibiter  of  events^ 
as  a  mighty  engine,  to  demolish  the 
kingdom  of  satan,  ThjB  mom  of 
masonic  exertions,  has  already  be* 
gun  to  dawn,  and  soon  the  arrows  of 
light  will  pierce  the  kingdom  of  the 
prince  of  darkness.  No  longer,  I 
trust,  can  it  be  said  $o  tba^  fratemiqr, 
in  tlie  language  of  eontempt,  shew 
us  your  fruit,  that  we  may  judge* 
N05  thflit  tree  planted  in  a  «>il  like 
America,  can  no  long?^  oease  to 
produce  the  richest  fruit.  That  vine 
will  soon  send  forth  its  branches  to 
the  erids  ^  the  eartbf  loaded  with 
the  fdiloiGi^  iclusters.  /t  it  askea 
what  are  the  advantages  of  fnason»t 
ry?  I  answer,  the  tcue  principles  pjf 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


2^ 


MASONIC. 


masonry  have  a  tendency  to  make 
men  wiscr,bettery  and  happier ;  Xo  war 
against  that  fiend-like  spirit  which 
reigns  in  the  depraved  heart  of  man: 
and  they  even  stay  the  h^nd.  lifted 
in  vengeance  against  his  neighbour. 
How  many  consigned  ibr  perpetual 
imprisonment  kave  been  released 
by  discovering  their  claims  to  frater- 
nal protection !  How  many  doom- 
ed to  roast  around  the  stake,  to 
writhe  upon  the  rack,  and  to  agon- 
ize under  the  torturing  hand  of  sav- 
age cruelty,  have  regained  their 
IVeedom,  by  exhibiting  the  ties  which 
hold  freemasonry  inviolate!  The 
burnished  steel  levelled  ^  the  heart 
of  a  brotlier,  has  often  been  with- 
drawn, upon  the  discovery  of  true 
ma^nio  signs.  From  whence  re- 
8ulu  such  mighty  advantages?  can  a 
corrupt  fountain  send  forth  pure 
streams?  can  an  i^sociation  adapt- 
ed to  foster  the  corrupt  propensities 
of  our  nature,  as  has  been  said  of 
*  this,  overflow  with  such  pure  benev- 
olence? the  conclusion  in  fUvour  of 
npasonry,  indeed  scenes  almost  irre- 
sistibly to  fqrce  itself  upon  the  n^ind 
of  every  reflecting  person.  But 
it  will  operate  more  gloriously  in 
spreading  the  gospel  among  heath- 
en nations.  The  masonic  missiona- 
ry may  go  into  Arabia,  that  strong 
hold  of  Mahomedanism,  and  preach 
Jesus  Christ  crucified,  even  around 
the  great  impostor's  tomb,  and  gain 
the  attention  of  his  brethren,  where 
other  persons,  from  Christian  na- 
tions, would  be  instantly  massacred. 
But  another  objection  is  brought  for- 
ward, it  is  said  that  this  bei^evolence 
is  from  selfish  principles,  because 
their  charity  is  confined  to  the  mem- 
bers of  their  own  institution.  Biit 
this  assertion  may  pe  proved  incor- 
rect. But  should  wcj  even  allow  it  to 
be  true,  the  principle  must  be  com- 
mendable. For  the  apostle  says, 
as  we  have  therefore  <u>P<>!itunity, 
let  us  doffood  Untp  all  men,  especlal- 
Y  ??^^  *^"^  ^^^  Wfc  of  t^e  house- 
wW  of  foitb."  This  proves  that  api- 


ous brother  btobepreferred  in  Chris- 
tian charity,  ^hy  bave  not  tlie 
fratemitv  of  masops,  the  same  right 
as  had  the  followers  of  |he  disciples 
of  Christ.  Therefore  this  objection 
would  h^ve  as  great  bearing  against 
the  Christian  religion  as  masonry. 
Hence  let  all  the  oppoaers  to  the  in- 
stitution pf  freemasonry,  listen  to 
the  advice  of  Gamaliel  the  Jev^isli 
rabbi,  "if  this  work  be  of  God  ye 
cannot  overthrow  it ;  lest  haply  ye  be 
found  eyen  to  fight  aga'mst  God.'' 
•  Amicus  Veeitatis. 

Princeton^  March,  1823. 


Thb  Holy  Scriptubes. 
The  propagation  of  the  gospd 
of  the  lledeemcr,  in  its  purity,  uo? 
connected  with  the  sinister  views  of 
any  party,  or  sect,  is  an  object  wor- 
thy the  attention  of  all  societies, 
and  particularly  that  of  Free  and 
Accepted  Masons;  inasmuch  as  the 
fundamental  principles  of  our  or- 
der, are  founded  on  those  contained 
In  the  scriptures  of  the  Qld  and  New 
Testaments,  which  we  take  for  the 
rule  of  our  conduct,  and  publidy 
acknowledge  their  Author,  as  our 
Great  Grand  Master,  and  Supreme 
High  Priest.  But  as  freemasoniy 
acknowledges  no  distinction  of  sect 
or  party  in  religion,  but  admits  wor- 
thy n^en  of  all  denominations  to 
its  priviledges,  it  would  certainly  be 
deemed  a  derogation  from  the  true 
principles  of  the  institution,  and  to- 
tally destroy  that  harmony,  and  bro- 
therly love,  which  for  ages  have  exis- 
ted among  all  genuine  masons,  for 
a  bodi/  of  the  fraternity,  as  suck,  to 
appropriate  any  part  of  the  funds 
belonging  to  that  body  collectively 
tQ  the  exclusive  support  of  the  doc- 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


t  of.  any  particular  sect  or  par- 
ty. Ifence  it  follows,  that  freema- 
sons, as  a  body^  cannot,  consistent 
with  the  ancient  kuidmarks  of  the 
order,  become  the  patrons  of  any 
particular  foreign  or  dotoestic  niis- 
^ioD,  however  maeh  their  benevo- 
lent hearts  may  feel  for  the  heathen 
of  our  own,  or  fbreign  coun^e$. — 
But  there  would  be  po  imprppriety 
in  forminjd^  a  genend  Masonic  Bi- 
ble Society  throughout  the  United 
States,  or  the  civitized  world,  to  cir- 
pulate  tlie  Hqly  Scriptures,  unac- 
conipanied  by  sectarian  tracts,  a- 
mong  such  of  our  fellow  beings  as 
^e  unable  to  purchase  for  them- 
^Ives;  and  among  tlie  children  or 
servants  of  such  parents  and  mas- 
ters as  are  unwilling  to  purchase  for 
tliem;  and  let  the  grand,  and  subor- 
dinate  chapters  and  lodg^,  make 
such  voluntary  contributions  towards 


253 


its  support,  as  their  fbnds  would  al- 
low, or  as  they  should  deoip  expe- 
dient. 

All  the  Christian  denominations 
agree,  that  the  bible  contains  the 
words  of  ^ternal  life,  that  it  is  given 
by  the  inspfration  of  God,  and  that 
there  is  nq. other  name  given  under 
Heaven  wl^ereby  men  can  be  saved, 
than  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ.  In  this  freemasons  f^jUy 
coincide,  by  having  the  bible  con- 
tinually before  their  eye^,  bo^h  in 
their  lodges  ai^d  chapters,  aiidby 
carrying  it  in  all  their  public  pro- 
cessions, thu^  ei^hibitingto  the  world, 
that  this  sacred  volume  is  the  great 
ptoHT  o#  MASONRY ;  and  that  every 
freemason  is  most  solemnly  bound  to 
observe  the  precepts  therein  contain- 
f&l  too  mahy  examples  to  tiie  conr 


ucary  notwithstanding.  Of  course, 
nothing  would  conduce  more  to  the 
honour  or  vital  interest  of  the  frater- 
nity, than  a  dissemination  of  th<$ 
word  of  Qod  among  the  destitute, 
and  an  inculcation  of  its  sacred 
truths.  Perhaps  there  is  no  associ- 
ation of  men  on  the  face  of  the 
earth,  who  have  been  more  highly 
favoured  by-the  Supreme  Being,  and 
none  owe  a  greater  debt  of  gi-ati- 
tude  to  our  divine  Master,  botli  in  a 
collective,  and  individual  capacity, 
tlian  that  of  freemasons ;  inasmuch 
as  its  chain,  which  reaches  from  one 
end  of  the  known  world  to  the  other^ 
has  remained  unbroken,  through  % 
long  series  of  revolving  ages,  not- 
withstanding the  united  exertions  of 
superstition  and  despotism,  to  hren^ 
ft  in  pieces.  How  gteat  then  is  oar 
accountability?  We  proless  to  be 
"  SONS  OF  LIGHT,"  and  to  have  re- 
ceived more  light  than  the  rest  of 
mankind.  Are  we  not  then  more 
accountable?  Will  not  our  Grand 
Master  hold  us  responsible  for  the 
manner  in  which  we  have  used  the^ 
light  he  has  given  us,  how  we  have 
•Met  Qur  light  shine  before  men" 
and  how  we  have  improved  the  sior 
gular  advantages  he  has  given  ua 
above  others?  Let  every  freemason 
put  these  questions  to  himself,  and 
consider  tlie  8ufc()ec(  candidly,  and 
he  will  surely  answer  in  the  affirma^ 
tive,  and  if  he  is  wise,  govern  him- 
self accordingly. 

yfe  were  drawn  to  the  above  re- 
mark^  ^y  ffiading  the  foregoing 
comn^unication  relative  to  the  es- 
tablishment of  misionacy  societies. 
We  had  no  information  of  any  pre* 
cee4ing  of  the  kind,  either  in  Lqu- 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


254 

is^ille  or  Hartfinrd,  till  received 
from  our  correspondent  at  Prince 
ton ;  bat  we  faave  documents  before 
ussbowkig  the  establishment  of  a 
society  in  Newhavcn,  called  the 
«  Newhaven  Masonic  Palestine  Mis- 
gioHory  Swdety^^^  the  sole  object  of 
which  appears  to  be  "  to  raise  funds 


VASONrC. 

in  Newhaven;  perfectly coii 
with  the  writer,  respecting  the  first 
mentioned  book,  having  perused  it 
with  great  satisfaction.  The  Tena- 
plar*8  Chart,  we  have  not  yet  seen, 
but  from  the  well  known  character 
of  the  author,  both  m  high  masoidc 
acquirements,  and  in  the  diffasna 


to  be  paid  to  the  American  Board  of  D  of  moral  and  religious  precejpts,  we 


Commissioners  for  Foreign  Mis- 
sions, to  be  by  them  excluaivoly  ap- 
propriated to  the  diftiision  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures  among  benighted 
heathen  people,  and  our  Jewish 
brethren,  and  others  in  Palestine.*' 
This  institution  appeaVs  to  be  patr 
rottized  by  many  worthy  brethren 
and  companions,  but  not  under  the 
sanction  of  any  corporate  body  of 
masons  ^  and  Hiram  lodge  of  New- 
baveo,  have  publbhed  resolutions 
disclaiming  all  connection  with  said 
society,  and  their  disapprobation  of 
said  society's  assuming  the  masonic 
eharacterj  <<  inasmuch,"  tliey  say, 
^  as  the  objects  of  said  society  have 
a  sectarian  tendency,''  &c.  The 
foUowmg brethren  i^re  the  officers; 

HesBekiah  Hotchkiss,  president 

Reverend  B.  M.  Hill,  vice-presi- 
dent. 

Philip  Saunders,  treasurer. 

M.  A.  Durrand,  corresponding 
secretary. 

'  Sd[>astian  M.  DuUon,  recording 
secretary. 

Jeremy  L.  Cross,  Zebu]  Bradley, 
Joel  A  twater,  and  W.  Boardman,  di- 
rectors. 


Brotber  Cross's  Charts. 
Widi  a  high  degree  of  pleasure, 
we  cppy  the  following  article  from 
the  cWecticut  Herald,  published 


cannot  entertain  an  idea,  that  the 
meriu  of  the  work  are  over-rated. 
The  work  is  for  sale  by  the  matkor'& 
agent,  Mr.  John  P.  Havbn,  No.  182 
Broadway,  New- York. 

MASONIC. 

Of  the  means  which  have  been 
used  within  the  last  live  years,  to 
elevate  the  character  of  tbe  nrasonie 
institution  in  thts^  country,  few  havip 
been  more  efiectoal  than  the  publi- 
cation of  the  Masonic  Chart,  by  the 
right  worshipful  J^remt  L.  Cross, 
grand  lecturer.  The  book  has  beea 
sanctioned,  and  recoomiended,  by 
the  general  grand  chapter  of  th« 
United  States ;  and,  it  b  believed, 
has  been  generally  adopted  By  tbe 
several  subordinate  chapters  and 
lodges  in  this  country.  It  has  bad 
the  happy  tendency  of  produciiiff 
an  uniformity  in  the  lectures,  and 
mode  of  working.  Its  extensive 
circulation  among  the  craft,  camiot 
fail  to  be  desired,  by  every  brother 
acquainted  with  its  merits.  Tbose 
who  have  received  the  higher  de- 
ll grees  of  masonry,  will  be  gratified 
to  learn,  that  a  book,  called  the 
Templar's  Chart,  has  lately  been 
publislied  by  the  same  author.^— 
This  is  a  work  of  merit,  and  prom* 
ises  great  benefit  to  the  friuemity. 
The  emblems  are  judiciously  arran- 
ged, and  the  mode  of  working  much 
simplified.  The  importance  of  thb 
work  cannot  fail  to  be  acknowleged 
by  every  well  informed  knight.  Its 
tendency  will  be,  to  induce  a  uniform 
mode  of  working  in  their  degrees, 
throughout  the  country.    ItiajnucK 


Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


MlSCEttAlVSOtl^. 


255 


io  iie  hoped,  that  the  attention  of  the 
iiraternitv  may  be  directed  to  a  work, 
Ifom  which  we  have  reanon  to  expect 
much  benefit.  The  ability  of  Mr. 
Cross  to  prepare  a  work  of  this  kind, 
cannot  be  doubted  by  any  one,  ac^ 
quainted  with  his  niasonic  acquire- 
ments. 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


For  the  Masonic  Register. 

Mr.  Pratt, 

I  have  lately  met  with  a  volumi- 
nous  work,  publbhed  in  London, 
during  the  present  year,  1823,  and 
eutitVed  ^^PuUU  Character  of  aU 
Nations.'*  As  it  is  the  <Mily  copy 
that  has  reached  this  coun^,  I  have 
concluded  to  transcribe,  for  your 
Regiser,  a  number  of  tlie  sketches. 
The  present  war  against  the  liberty 
«f  Spain,  being  particularly  interest- 
ing to  ^e  people  of  this  country,  I 
have  transmitted,  for  prior  insertion, 
all  the  distinguished  officers  that  are 
m  comnDand,  both  in  Uie  Spanish 
and  French  armies.  Amofeig  tlie 
first,  your  readers  will  be  plea^  to 
see,  Mina,  Milans,  Tiie  £mpecina- 
do,  Abisbalp  and  others.  In  the  lat- 
ter descriptioD,  they  will  find  every 
name  of  note,  from  Moncey,  to  Cas- 
tex,  and  Donnadieu.  In  addition  to 
the  persons  there  employed,  I  have 
sent  you  a  full  series  of  all  the  French 
heroes,  now  living,  that  were  in  the 
battle  of  Waterloo.  I  hare  been  the 
rather  induced  to  furnish  you  with 
the  last  mentioned  sketches,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  singular  and  ungen- 
erous neglect  that  has  attended  the 
g^;antic,  though  unsuccessful  efforts 
o€  those  ^champions  of  freedom.'^ 
There  is  scarcely  a  centurion  of  tlie 
British  army,  that  exerted  himself 
on  that  day,  that  has  not  obtained  a 
niche  in  some  periodical  repository. 
Sinclair,  the  sergeant,  and  Shaw,  the 
desperate  life-guardsman,  have  been 
the  theme  of  everv  gazette,  or  pan- 
orama, in  Great  Britain  y  while  on 


the  other  hand,  several  lieutenant*' 
generals,  of  the  unsuccessful  army, 
commanders  indeed  of  twenty  thou- 
sand men,  Aom  tlie  peculiar  situa-^ 
tion  of  their  own  country,  and  th6 
natural  prejudice  of  their  national 
enemies,  have  not  even  been  named 
as  participators  in  that  sanguinary 
and  evendul  struggle.  Some  of  the 
individuals,  comprised  in  this  last 
classification,  have  now  become  the 
more  interesting,  from  subsequent 
circumstances :  such  is  the  case  of 
Bertrand,  the  faithful  follower  of  Na- 
poleon; general  Foy,  the  intrepid 
leader  of  the  liberal  party,  in  the 
chamber  of  delegates;  and  count 
Flahaut,  the  progenitor  of  tlie  fu- 
ture heirs  of  an  English  peerage. 

All  these  biographical  notices 
have  been  revised,  and  a  number  of 
them  have  received  material  addi- 
tions, in  order  to  render  them  as  ii> 
teresting  as  possiUe ;  yet  it  will  be 
obvious  to  the  reader,  that  they  owe 
nothing  to  the  blandishments  of  com- 
position, and  are  to  be  received  (ac- 
cording to  the  intention  of  the  En- 
glish publisher')  as  a  plain  unassunv' 
ing  record  of  tlie  deeds  of  men,  who 
hereaAer  mav  occupy  the  pages  of 
a  more  durable  work,  than  a  period- 
ical magazine. 

A  CONSTANT  READER. 

Ncto-YorkfJune,  1823. 

-SKETCHES  OF  UFING 
CHARACTERS. 

GENERAL  MMA. 
Don  Francisco  Espoz  t-  Mina^ 
one  of  the  most  distinguished  of  the 
Spanish  patriou,  is  a  native  of  Na- 
varre, and  was  bom  in  1782,  at  the 
village  of  Ydocin,  about  two  miles 
from  Paropeluna.  By  some  he  has 
been  represented  as  the  son  of  a  mere 
peasant,  a  circumstance  which,  if 
true,  would  only  enhance  hb  merit ; 
but  he  is,  in  fact,  of  a  family  of  con- 
sequence. During  the  war  against 
the  French,  his  nef^ew,  Don  Xa- 
vier  Mina,  then  a  student  at  the  Uni- 

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256 


UtSCELLAkBOVd, 


versity  of  Saragossa,  raised  a  gue- 
rilla cdrps^  with  which  he  performed 
several  spirited  exploits.  Xayier 
being  taken  prisoner  in  ISlO/the 
cbniinand  of  the  corps  was  transfer- 
red to  Francisco^  who  soon  render- 
ed his  name  the  tenrdr  of  the  French, 
firave,  active,  indefatigable^  full  of 
lesoureeSy  and  possessed  of  an  ad» 
mirable  presence  of  mind,  he  inces- 
santly harassed^  and  wore  down 
the  strengtii  of  the  enemy,  not  on- 
^  in  Navarre,  but  in  the  neighbour- 
ing provinces  of  Alava  and  Ara- 
gon.  Such  was  the  rapidity  of  his 
movements  that  ndthinj^  could  es- 
cape him ;  not  a  convoy,  not  a  de- 
tachment could  move  from  one 
place  to  anotlie**,  that  he  did  not 
i^ush  upoii  it)  and  in  alniost  every 
mstance  he  was  successful.  The 
loss  which  the  French  sustained,  in 
this  kind  of  warfare  was,  incalcu- 
lable ;  while  his  was  triflings  as  the 
accuracy  of  the  intelligence  which 
he  received  prevented  him  from  ev- 
er being  surprised,  and  when  he  was 
far  outnumbered,  his  troops  d  bband- 

ed  Inr  signal,  and  reunited  again  j|  this  occasion  Louis  behaved  in  a 
in  a  lew  hours,  and  resumed  ofien- 
sive  operations.  It  was  in  vain,  that 
-to  exterminate  his  division,  the  ene- 
my poured  25,000  men  into  Navai^ 
re.  He  not  only  stood  his  ground, 
but  eventually  remained  msater  of 
the  province.  He  was,  in  fact,  oft- 
en denominated,  the  king  of  N«var- 
re.  In  1 8 11 ,  the  regency  ga ve  h  im 
the  rank  of  colonel  5  in  1812,  that 
of  brigadffer-general ;  and  soon  af- 
ter, that  of  general.  His  force,  in 
1813,  consisted  of  11,000  infantry, 
and  2500  cava1i*y,  and  with  this  he 
co-operated  in  the  siege  of  Fampe- 
luna,and  recovered  Saragossa,  Mon- 
gon,  Tafalla,  Jaca,  and  various  oth* 
«r  places.  When  peace  wascon- 
cluaed,  he  was  besieging  St  Jean 
Pied  de  Port.  After  having  put  his 
division  into  quarters,  he  went  to 
Bladrid,  and  had  the  mortification 
to  find,  that  he  had  been  labourmg 
only  for  the  re^tablishment  of  des- 


potism. Disgusted  with  die  ^oik 
duct  of  Ferdinand,  and  having  IhifC- 
lessly  rfetoobmrated  sriih  hi^,  he  en- 
deavoUi-ed  to  perswade  the  other 
Spanish  ^eiiertlls>  in  tlie  capmii,  lo 
jom  with  him,  and  ni^ke  an  effort  in 
the  cause  of  freedom ;  but  hi^  inteiH 
tions  t^ere  ^ndered  abortive,  by  the 
baneful  inflimioe  of  the  prieMhood. 
Mina  then  hastened  to  Nayaire,  with 
the  determinatioix.of  imtiing  himself 
at  the  head  of  his  division  ;  but  be 
found  that  the  new  captain  general 
had  dismissed  the  troops  wbidi  coro« 
posed  iu  liey  however^  gained  over 
the  garrisoii  of  Pampeiunn,  and  was 
on  the  point  of  proclaiming  the  con* 
stitution,  when  his  plan  was^stuh 
ted  by  tlie  pusillanimity  of  so^of 
the  olHc^rs.  He'  had  now  no  re- 
source, but  to  sedc  an  a^Ium  io 
France,  and  he  reached  Pi|iis  in 
safety.  While  lie  was  residing  in 
the  Freiieh  capital,  he  was  arrested 
by  th6  commissary  of  police,  whom 
the  Spanish  ambassador  had  persup- 
ded,or  rather  bribed,  to  commit  tbic 
act  of  indolence  and  injustice.    On 


manner  which  Was  liighly  honoura- 
ble to  him.  He  turned  the  co^mlss^ 
ry  out  of  his  piftce,  insisted  on  the  am- 
bassador being  recalled,  and  not  onlj 
released  Mina,  but  granted  him  a 
pension  of  6000  francs.  Tlie  Spsa- 
ish  general  was  not  ungratefhl :  he 
refused  to  have  an}'  intercourse  what- 
ever with  Napoleon,  (piitted  Fnmce. 
joined  the  king  at  Ghent,  and  re* 
turned  with  him  to  Paris.  Till  the 
army  at  Cadiz  raised  the  stiindard  o^ 
freedom,  he  continued  to  live  \&j 
privately  in  France ;  but  as  soon  si 
that  event  tookplace^  he  hmried 
back  to  Navarre,  collected  a  few 
hundreds  of  his  followers^  issued  & 
proclamation^  calling  on  the  rest  to 
join  him,  and  was  advancing  again^ 
Pampeluna,  when  a  deputation  wai 
sent  to  him  by  .the  inhabitants,  to  in- 
form, him  that  the  city  had  accepted 
the  new  constitution.  After  the 
king  had  submitted  to  the.  new  iff- 


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MfSCBLtANKQjtrs 


257 


der  of  things,  Mina  was  appointed  I  in  the  command  of  the  custom  house 
captain  general  of  Navarre.  Histal-l  officers  of  Asturlas.  He  tilled  the 
ents,  however,  were  soon  required  in  1  same  situation  in  1808,  when  the 
the  field.  A  few  fanatics  and  lovers  French  invaded  Spain.  The  Junta 
of  despotism  having  succeeded  i)\'  of  Asturias  confided  to  hint  the  corn- 


exciting  a  formidahle  insm'rection  m 
Catalonia,  Mina  was  entrusted  with 
the  command  of  the  army  destined 
to  act  against  them.  The  rugged  na- 
ture of  the  country  in  which  he  was 
placed,  the  weakness  of  hi«^  own  ar- 
my, and  the  strength  of  the  rebels, 
rendered  his  operations  seemingly 
tardy  at  the  outset,  and  the  ultra-roy- 
alists began  to  manifest  the  utmost 
confidence  and  exultation.  But  they 
soon  discovered  that  they  had  wo- 
lully  miscalculated.     Mina  was  too 
prudent    to  commit  any  thing  to 
diance,  when  a  repulse  might  have 
been  productive  of  disastrous  conse- 
quences ;  but  as  soon  as  he  had  ful- 
ly prepared  every  thing  for  the  con- 
flict, he  attacked  the  bands  of  the 
traitors  with  his  wonted  impetuosity, 
routed  them  in  several  encounters, 
and  drgve  them  before  him,  in  the 
utmost  confusion,  over  the  Pyrrenean 
frontier,  into  the  French  territory. 
These  victories  have  increased  bis 
fame  throughout  Europe,  and  he  is 
regarded  as  the  most    experienced 
general  in  Spain,  and  as  the  sheet  an- 
chor of  the  constitutional  cause.     In 
the  present  contest,  Mina  continues 
to  hold  the  same  command,  and  is 
opposed  to  the  \eh  invading  corps  of 
the  French  army  under  marshal  ^lon- 
cey,  iu  the  moimtains  of  Catalonia. 


mand  of  a  regiment,  and  he  became 
a  brigadier,  and  afterwards  marshal 
de  camp.     At  that  time  the  army  of 
Castile  was  commanded  by  Blake 
and  Castanos.     Ballasteros  gave  re- 
peated proofs  of  his  bravery  in  differ- 
ent battles,  and  eventually  was  one 
of  the  Spanish  generals,  who,  when 
the  duke  of  Wellington  appeared  in 
the  Peninsula,  at  the  head  of  the  Brit- 
ish, contested  with  him  the  command 
in  chief  of  the  Spanish  armies.     On. 
the  GOi  tes   deciding  iu  favour  of  the 
duke,  Ballasteros  retired  from    the 
service,  and  he  published  a  memorial, 
to  justify  himself  from  the  charge  of 
having,  through  jealousy,  caused  the 
failure  of  several  important  military 
operations.     When  Ferdinand  VII, 
returned  to  Spain,  he  conferred  his 
protection  on  Ballasteros, and  appoint- 
ed him  minister  of  war  in  1815  ; 
but  subsequently  he  was  dismissed, 
and  placed  on  hajf  pay.  '  On  this  he 
retired  to  Valladolid.    In  the  present 
war,  Ballasteros  commands  an  army 
of  about  15,000  men,  covering  tl» 
province  of  Navarre. 


BALLASTEROS. 

Fkancis  Ballasteros  was  born 
at  Saragossa  in  1770.  In  1793,  be- 
ing first  lieutenant  in  the  volunteers  of 
Arragon,  be  so  greatly  distinguished 
himself,  that  he  was  raised  to  the  rank 
of  captain,  during  the  campaign  in 
Catalonia.  He  was  accused,  in  1 804, 
of  having  fraudulently  received  3000 
lotions,  and  .was  deprived  of  his  com- 
mand ;  but  through  the  Interest  of  the 
Prince  of  Peace,  he  obtained  employ 

VOL.  II.  33 


ABISBAL. 

General  O'Donnel,  Court  A» 
BisBAL,  was  born  in  Andalusia,  about 
1770,  oF  Irish  parents,  entered  into 
the  royal  guards  at  the  age  of  fifteen, 
served  against  the  French  in  ftie  war 
from  1793  to  1795,  and  was  remark- 
si  for  his  talents  and  bravery.  When 
the  French  invaded  Spain  in  1808, 
O'Donnel  was  a  major,  and  during 
the  course  of  the  war,  he  rose  to  be  a 
marshal  de  camp.  In  the  campaign 
of  1813,  he  displayed  so  much  activ- 
ity against  the  French,  that  he  was 
recompensed  with  the  title  of  count 
de  rAblsbal.  In  1814,  however, 
he  wn6  first  imprisoned,  and  then 
bauishedj.by  the  corles,for  a  writing 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


2j8 


MISCELLANEOUS^ 


which  he  had  published  against  them. 
But  when  Ferdinand  overthrew  the 
constitution^  be  particularly  distin- 
guished O'Donnel  by  his  favour.  The 
count  was  made  captain  general  of  the 
kingdom  of  Seville^  and  in  1815  was 
appointed  commander  of  the  Spanbh 
army,  which  was  destined  to  act  a- 
minst  Napoleon,  aAer  his  return  from 
Elba.  In  1819  he  was  placed  at 
the  head  of  the  troops  which  were 
collected  at  Cadiz,  for  the  purpose 
of  subjugating  the  Americans ;  but 
in  July,  a  conspiracy  broke  out  in 
the  camp,  the  object  of  which  was, 
So  compel  the  king  to  mmt  a  consti- 
tution to  bis  subjects.  The  expedition 
was  thus  rendered  abortive,  though 
the  conspiracy  was  crushed  for  a  time. 
A/ter  the  revolution,  which  restored 
freedom  to  Spain,  he  was,  on  account 
of  his  equivocal  conduct,  for  a  long  " 
time  in  disgrace ;  but  has  since  been 
restored  to  his  rank,  and  now  com- 
mands  the  forces  stationed  in  Mad- 
rid.* 

*  Stooe  the  receipt  of  the  foregoing, 
Irom  our  re^etable  correipondeDt,  in- 
telligence haf  been  received  «rf  the  defec- 
tion of  this  oommmnder,  to  the  cause  of 
his  country,  he  having  joined  himself  to 
the  interests  of  the  invading  foe.  From 
the  former  ambiguous  conduct  of  this 
modem  Arnold,  we  think  nothing  better 
could  have  been  expected ;  and  it  b  real- 
ty surprising,  that  the  friends  of  liberty 
in  Spain,  should  ever  have  suffered  a 
man  of  his  character  to  remain,  for  a  sin- 
gle mopent,  In  command  of  any  portion 
of  their  forces.  Edit.  Mat.  RtgiHtr, 


his  wife  and  daughter,  and  taktng 
with  him  two  infant  sons,  succeedea 
in  reaching  the  small  fishinff  town 
of  Badaloua,  whence  he  en^wrked 
for  Gtbralter.  From  that  place  he 
sailed  to  Buenos  Ayres,  and  was 
eminently  useful  to  the  cause  of 
freedom  m  the  new  world.  As  soon  as 
he  heard  of  the  revolution  in  ^m, 
in  1820,  be  returned  home,  and  on 
landingat  Barcelona, where  he  fbimd 
his  wife  and  daughter  waiting  to 
meet  him,  he  was  received  by  Ae 
authorities  with  great  rejoicings  and 
congratalation.  He  was  soon  ap- 
pointed to  a  command  in  CataloDm, 
where  he  distinguished  hhnself  a^ 
gainst  the  army  of  the  faith;  andia^ 
by  the  recent  accounts,  now  contend* 
mg  with  a  corps  of  Moncey^  divi- 
sion. 


MILANS. 

This  patriotic  Spanish  officer  was, 
during  several  campfiigns,  the  com- 
panion and  friend  of  the  brave  and 
unfortunate  Lacy.  In  the  disastrous 
enterpriseofthat  patriotic  chief,  he 
was  one  of  his  most  active  coadju- 
tors. The  attempt  havinff  failed. 
Milans,  to  avoid  a  similar  late,  left 


EMPECINADO. 
Don  Juan  Maktin.  This  patri- 
otic Spaniard,  who  dtnring  the  war 
between  France  and  Spain,  was  bet- 
ter known  by  the  name  of  **  The 
Empecinado,"  is  said  to  be  of  a 
humble  family  in  the  province  of 
Leon.  The  appellatton  he  has 
so  generally  received  of  Em^eci- 
nado,  or  the  pitched,  (from  pez^ 
pitch),  is  by  some,  said  to  have 
been  given  him  in  consequence  of 
his  native  village  being  chiefly  in- 
habited by  Shoemakers,  or  from 
the  natural  imiddiness  of  the  sofl; 
others,  however,  and  with  more  pro- 
bability, derive  it  firom  the  circum- 
stance of  his  having,  in  the  first  par- 
ox3rsm  of  grief,  after  the  munier  of 
his  whole  fhmily,  by  the  Frendi, 
smeared  himself  inth  pitch,  while  lie 
vowed  unceasing  vengeance,  as  long 
as  one  of  them  remained  alive  in  h» 
native  country.  At  first  be  was  die 
leader  of  a  small  gueiriila  band,  bat 
he  soon  gathered  round  him  a  fb^ 
midable  force,  with  which  he  harras- 
sed  the  enemy,  particulariy  in  the 
vicmity  of  Madrid,  and  the  provkioe 
of  Guadalaxara.  He  repeatedly 
roated  the  French  troops,  and  Jo- 

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Itl^CBtLAHBOUS. 


259 


seph  fiooaparte  biuiself  was  more 
than  once  in  danger  of  falling  into 
hia  hands.    Ferdinand^  on  his  re- 
turn, flraive  him  the  rank  of  major 
genersu.     But  though  the  Empeci- 
nado  bad  fought  tordeliver  his  coun- 
try, and  restore  his  sovereign,  he 
had  not  intended  to  establish  despo- 
tism, and  he  therefore  witnessed  with 
disgust,  the  measures  which  were 
adopted  by  Ferdinand.     Early  in 
1815,  he  put  into  the  king's  hands, 
a  strong  remonstrance  against  those 
^rannical  acts,  and  refused  to  leave 
Madrid  until  he  was  assured  that  the 
monarch,  as  well  as  his  ministers,  had 
seen  the  memorial.    Having  retired 
to  Leon,  no  immediate  punishment 
was  directed  against  him ;  but  in  the 
following  year,  he  was  abruptly  torn 
from  his  home,  and  sent  to  the  cas- 
tle of  Mongon,in  Arragon,  where  he 
was  confined  for  some  time.    Afler 
the  re-establishment  of  th&  cortes, 
he  was  employed  in  suppressing  the 
insurrectionary  movements  of  the 
royalists,  in  which  service  he  display- 
ed his  usual  decision  and  enterprise. 
Since  the  present  invasion  he  is 
again  in  armfi^and  the  French  army 
has  already  experienced  the  effecu 
of  his  determined  hostility  to  the 
eifemies  of  liberal  priociplesi  and  of 
his  countiy. 


MORILLO. 

Don  Pablo  M  okillo.  This  offi* 
cer,  a  man  of  courage  and  taJent,  but 
who  has  stained  his  character,  by 
his  conduct  in  the  new  world,  is  said 
to  have  been  originally  a  sergeant 
of  artillery  in  the  marines.  During 
the  war  carried  on  by  the  Spaniards 
against  Napoleon,  he  raised  a  gue- 
rilla corps,  at  the  bead  of  which  he 
soon  acquired  reputation.  His  first 
exploit  was  his  obstinate  defence  of 
the  bridge  of  Puente  del  Conde,  in 
£stremadura,  and  this  was  soon  suc- 
ceeded by  die  capture  of  Vigo  in 
Galicia,  where  he  co-operated  with 
the  British.    On  the  lauer  occasion 


he  acted  as  commander  in  diief  of 
the  Spaniards,  and  was  desired,  by 
his  men,  to  assume  die  title  of  cok>> 
nel,  the  French   gov&nor  having 
hesitated  to  capitulate  to  any  officer 
of  inferior  rank.    His  colonelcy  was 
confirmed  to  him  by  the  central  jun- 
ta.   He  was  promoted  to  be  a  gen- 
eral in  the  course  of  the  war,  and 
he  distinguished  himself  greatly  on 
several  occasions,  particularly  at  the 
baUles  of  Vittoria,  and  the  Nivelle. 
His  activity  was  such,  that  he  gain- 
ed the  appellation  of  Wellington's 
Cossac    In  1 8 1 5,  when  the  Spanish 
government  resolved  to  make  a  stren- 
uous effort  to  recover  its  authority 
over  the  South  American  colonies, 
Morillo  was  placed  at  the  head  of 
the  expedition,  consisting  of  12,000 
men.    While  Morillo  was  preparing 
to  embark  his  troops,  measures  were 
adopted  by  the  patriots,  to  bring 
them  and  their  leader  over  to  the 
popular  cause.    Morillo  is  said  to 
have  at  first  undertaken  to  play  the 
part,  which  was  afterwards  so  glori- 
H  ouslv  assumed  by  Riego  and  Quiro^ 
ga,  but  to  have  soon  repented  of  bis 
acquiescence,  and  betrayed  the  plan 
to  the  government.    He  then  set  sail 
.  for  the  new  world.     As  was  to  be 
expected,  this  veteran  force  was  at 
first  successful  against  the  inexperi- 
enced levies  of  the  A  mericans.   Mo- 
rillo began  by  the  sieffe  of  Cartha- 
gma,  and  he  entered  that  city  in 
ecember  1815,  afler  having  expe- 
rienced a  glorious  resistance  from 
the  inadequate  and  exhausted  garri- 
son, which,    at  last,  succeeded  in 
opening  a  passage  through  the  block* 
ading  squadron.     While  the  siege 
was  carrying  on,  he  rendered  himself 
ihateful  to  the  Venezuelans  by  the 
confiscation  of  property,  and  the 
cruelties  which  he  committed.  A  Cter 
the  fall  of  Carthagena,  he  marched 
into  New  Granada,  and  reduced  the 
province;  and  here  again  he  had 
recourse  to  the  system  of  bloodshed 
and  pillage.     For  a  while  the  spirit 
of  the  Americans  seemed  tg  be  ex« 

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260 


MlBCBLLAllBOItS. 


tinct^  bat  in  1 8 17)  it  was  again  reus- 
ed ^y  Bolivar,  Paez,  ArismeAdi,  and 
other  generals,  and  MoriUo  was  de- 
feated in  several  engagements.    In 
the  campaign  of  1818,  the  two  par- 
ties experienced  alternate  success, 
though,  on  the  whole,  the  advantage 
was  in  favour  of  the  independent 
cause,  and  in  the  following  year  the 
balance  turned  decidedly  against  the 
Spanish  general.    He  was  routed  in 
several  actions,  and  was  entirely  driv- 
en from  New  Granada,  and  a^  great 
part  of  Caraccas.  On  the  intelligence 
of  tlie  Spanish  revolution  in  1820, 
an  armistice  was  concluded  between 
the  contending  forces,  and  towards 
the  close  of  the  year,  Morillo  return- 
ed to  Spain.     His  pa^t  conduct  had 
given  the  court  reason  to  hope  that 
he  would  favour  the  cause  of  despo- 
tism ;  yet  either  from  prudence,  or 
conviction,  he  joined  the  patriots, 
and  for  a  while  he  held  the  situation 
of  poHtical  chief  of  Madrid ;  but  be- 
ing viewed  with  some  suspicion,  by 
the  liberal  party,  he  was  afterwards 
removed.    In  the  present  contest  be- 
tween Spain  and  France,  general 
MoriUo  commands  the  army  of  re- 
ser\'e,  stationed  in  Galicia. 


rapid  advance  in  the  army.  He  i  _ 
present  at  the  battles  of  Vittoria  aad 
Toulouse,  in  bothtif  wfaidi  be  distki- 
gutsbed  himself. 

On  his  return  to  Spain,  after  Ae 
restoration  of  Ferdinand,  be  was  im- 
prisoned for  a  few  days,  by  order  of 
that  monarch,  bat  was  aftervasds 
named  a  commander  of  one  of  the 
Spanish  military  orders,  and  lieaten- 
ant  general,  and  was  chosen  to  fil 
the  post  of  ambassador  to  the  long  of 
the  Netherlands.  While  be  held  this 
latter  station,  he  is  said  to  have  se- 
cretly perfonoed  many  acts  of  kind- 
ness to  his  expatriated  feHov  < 


ALAVA. 
Michael  A  lava  was  born  nt  Yit 
torja,  in  1771 9  entered  into  the  naval 
service  as  a  midshipman,  and  distin- 
guished himself  so  much  that  he  was 
speedily  raised  to  the  rank  of  captain 
of  a  frigate.  After  the  abdication  of 
Ferdinand,  Alava  espoused  the  cause 
of  Joseph,  sat  in  the  assembly  of  nota- 
bles at  Bayonne,  and  signed  the  con- 
stitution which  was  drawn  up  for  his 
country,  at  that  place.  He  was  even 
active  in  preparing  for  the  reception 
of  Joseph,  at  Vittoria,  and  attended 
that  monarch  to  Madrid.  For  some 
unknown  cause,  however,  he  went 
over  to  the  English,  and  acquired  the 
friendship,  and  confidence,  of  lord 
Wellington.  He  was  wounded  at  the 
battle  of  Albuera,  and  the  aUack  of 
Burgos,  but  was  recompensed  by  a 


trymen;  a  conduct  which  was  the 
more  meritorious,  it  being  the  wish 
of  his  court  that  they  should  be  per- 
secuted as  much  as  possible.  The 
friendship  of  Alava  for  the  Ddke  of 
Weilington,  led  him  to  volunteer  bis 
assistance  in  the  brief  campaign  of 
1815,  and  aceordiDgly  be  was  with 
him  as  ftn  aid  de  camp  in  the  battle 
of  Waterloo ;  of  which  action,  h»  af- 
terwards pnbli^ed  an  acooont  He 
was  recalled  from  the  Netherlands  in 
IS199  ^°^  ^'  now  a  member  of  the 
cortes,  at  Seville. 


AUTiCE 
Charlvs  Bbaumokt,  Coc!«t  D* 
AuTiCHAifP.  All  the  members  of 
this  family  have  been  remarkable  for 
their  attachroent  to  the  BoMrbom, 
but  the  most  active  of  thera  aU  is 
the  subji^t  of  this  memoot,  who  is  the 
youngest  son  of  Jdm  Louis  de  Bean- 
ment,  recently  created  dnkeD'Ao- 
tJdMMup.  He  was  horn  in  the  year 
1770,  and  entered  mCo  theam^at 
the  age  of  twelve  3rears.  He  semd 
in  the  con^utional  guard  of  the  king, 
durii^  the  early  part  of  the  Fi^ach 
revolution,  and  when  the  throne  wv 
overturned,  he  took  shelter  in  Aajoo, 
whh  the  count  de  la  Boche  Jacqoe- 
line.  They  soon  Signalised  them- 
selves as  two  of  the  most  active  cUe^i 
m  the  Vendean  war.  Boachamp,ooe 
of  the  bravest  and  noUest  minded  of 
the  royalist  leaders^  jwas  his  cousis 


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and  brojher-iiv^tow,  and  b^  gave  D' 
Atitichamp  the  commmnd  of  one  of 
the  columns  of  his  army,  at  th^  siege 
of  Nantes.    In  the  course  of  this  war, 
D'  Auticharop  encountered  innume* 
rable  dangers,*  and  on  one  occasion, 
saved  himself  amidst  the  general  rout 
of  his  troops,  by  clinging  to  the  tair 
of  a  horse,  which  fortunately  carried 
him  off,  unhurt  from  the  6eld.    After 
the  destruction  of  the  Vendean  ar- 
mies, in  1794,  he  found  a  refuge  at 
Mans,  in  thb  house.of  madame  Bella- 
more,  where  he  contracted  a  friend- 
ship with  m  wounded  cdonel  of  the 
republican  hussars,  who  at  the  risk  of 
his  own  life,  admitted  him  into  his 
troop  as  Instructor,  under  a  feigned 
name.     He  was  included  in  the  paci- 
fication which  was  afterwards  agreed 
to  by  Charette,and  the  rest  of  the 
Vendean  chiefs;  but  he  nevertheless, 
endeavoured  in  1796,  but  without  ef- 
fect, to  renew  the  war.     Subsequent- 
ly to  bis  last  attempt,  in  1799,  which 
was  terminated  by  the  signing  of  a 
treaty  with  general  HedouviTle,  be 
^jrent  to  Paris,  and  was  favourably  re- 
ceived by  the  first  consul.     While 
Napoleon  remained  lord  of  the  as- 
cendant^flfejitichamp  preserved  his 
allegianflPPbim ;  but  as  soon  as 
the  sovereign  seemed  shaken  on  hisi 
throne,  D'  Autichamp  again  put  him- 
^If  at  the  head  of  the  ikiurbonists  in 
Vendee.    Louis,  on  hb  ascending  the 
throne,  rewarded  him  by  promoting 
him  to  a  lieutenant  generalship,  roa- 
kmg  him  a  commander  of  the  order  of 
St.  Louis^and  putting  him  at  the  head 
of  the   14th  military  division.  aDu- 
rii^  the  hundred  days  of  Napoleon's 
second  reign,    V  Autichamp    once 
more  raised,  in  the  western  depart- 
ments, the  standard  of  the  Bourbons. 
The  royalists  were,  however,  diefeat- 
ed  with  considerable  loss,  by  general 
Lamarqne,  and  their  leaders,  with  the 
exception  of  D'  Autichamp,  signed  a 
treaty  of  peace.    The  battle  of  Wa- 
terloo having  restored  (.ouis  XVIII, 
M.  D'  Auticamp  returned  to  Paris, 
and  of  course,  was  received  with  open 


MISCSLLANSOITS.  26l 

arms.  He  was  named  pi^sident  of 
the  electoral  college  of  Beaupreau, 
and  soon  after  was  raised  to  the  peer- 
age. Count  D'  Autichamp  is  at  pres- 
ent, commander  of  the  first  division, 
of  the  first  corps  under  the  duke  of 
Reggio,  now  marching  on'  Madrid. 


BOURMONT. 

Louis  Augustus  Victor  CouNr 
De  Gaisne    De    Bouamont,  borii 
in  Amou,  in  1773,  was  an  officer  in 
the  French  guards,  previous  to  the 
revolution.      He  emigrated  with  the 
Prince  de  Conde.     In  1790  he  was 
charged  by  that  prince  with  a  secret 
mission  to  Nantz.     After  the  capture 
of  Weissembergin  1793,  he  was  sent 
to  England,  to  press  the  British  gov- 
ernment   to   tjpinsmit  the  promised 
succours  to  thremigrants.     In  1799 
he  relanded  on  the  northern  coasts  of 
France,  joined  Georges,  and  Xook  an 
active  part  in  the  contest,  till  its  ter- 
mination.    In  1 800  he  went  to  Paris, 
where  he  married,  and  was  suspect- 
ed, by  the  then  government,  of  being 
concerned  in  the  explosion  of  the  in- 
fernal machine  in  the  Hue  St.  Nicaise. 
He  was  accordingly  arrested,  sent  to 
the  Temple,  and  closely  confined.  lu 
1803,  he  was  removed  to  the  citadel 
of  Dijon,  and  from  thence  to  Besan- 
con.     In  1805  he  obtained  permis- 
sion to  retire  into  Portugal,  and  the 
sequestration  placed  on  his  property 
was  removed.     He  was  residing  in 
Lisbon,  with  his  family,  when  Junot, 
in  1808,  seized  that  city;  this  gene- 
ral comprehended  him  in  the  capitu- 
lation, and  he  returned  to  France. 
Napoleon  offered  him  the  rank  of  co- 
lonel, which  M.  Bourmont  accepted ; 
heVas  afterwards  made  a  general  of 
brigade.     He  was  mentioned  in  the 
campaigns  of  1813  and  1814,  jn  tlie 
official  bulletins,  with  honour,  parti- 
cularly in  the  affeir  of  Dresden.  The 
emperor    left  him  in  Nogent  with 
1200  men ;  he  fortified  the  walls  and 
houses  of  the  city,  barricadoed  the 
streets,  and  defended  the  place  for 

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2Gi. 


UtSCBLLANEOUS. 


two  days.  On  tfais  occasion  be  was 
wounded  in  the  Icnee.  He,  on  the 
reverses  experienced  by  the  French 
armS)  was  one  of  the  first  officers  who 
submitted  to  Louis  XVIII's  author- 
ity, and  was  named  by  that  monarch, 
on  the  20th  May  1814,  commandant 
of  the  6th  military  division,  which 
rank  he  held  at  Besancon,  when  Na- 
poleon landed  on  the  shores  of  Pro- 
vence in  1815.  He  made  every  dis- 
position to  arrest  Xapoleon,  and  when 
Marshal  Ney  advanced  on  Lyotis,  I 
M.    Bourmont  was    entrusted  witli    felL     Canuel  then  became  chief  of 


der  generab  Weqterman  andlUtsig' 
nol,  who,  in  their  reports  to  the  ooo- 
veotioni  often  memioDed  iiins,  as  a 
very  brave  officer.  Napoleoo  set 
dom  gave  him  any  active  service, 
and  soon  placed  him  on  half  paf  . 
He  then  retired  to  Aivioa,  where  he 
purchased  an  estate,  aiid  where  be 
remained  till  the  return  of  the  em- 
peror from  Elba,  when  he  joined  die 
Vendeans,  and  commanded  a  corps 
of  royalists  under  general  La  Rpche 
Jaqueline,  when  that  conamaBder 


the  command  of  a  division,  but  was 
obliged  himself  to  read,  in  the  public 
places,  the  celebrated  proclamation 
a§[ahist  the  house  of  Bourbon.  He 
repaired  to  Paps,  where  he  had  the 
address  to  procure  from  Napoleon  the 
command  of  a  divisi^  of  the  army, 
destined  to  oppose  the  allies  on  the 
*  northern  frontier.  M.  de  Bourmont 
profited  by  this  command ;  and  on  the 
14th  June,  1815,  two  days  previous 
to  the  battle  of  Ligny,  he  quitted  his 
division,  and  w^nt  over  to  the  king  at 
Ghent.  Appointed  by  Louis  XV HI, 
to  command  the  northern  frontier,  he 
penetrated  into  France  by  Armen- 
tieres,  and  established  his  head  quar- 
ters at  Estans.  He  afterwards  suc- 
ceeded in  the  capture  of  Lisle,  and 
some  other  posts  in  Flanders.  He 
was  afterwards  appointed  one  of  the 
commandants  of  the  divisions  of  in- 
fantry, of  the  royal  guard  in  France. 
He  at  preseut  retains  the  same  situa- 
tion in  the  corps  of  Count  Borde 
Soult,  which  composes  the  reserve 
of  the  army  invading  Spain. 


CANUEL. 

Simon  Canukl  was  bom  in  17o7, 
and  is  now  lieutenant  general.  In 
the  beginning  of  the  revolution  he 
rose  rapidly,  and  was  created  general 
of  division  in  1793.  He  command- 
ed at  Lyons,  m  1796,  and  had  orders 
from  the  directory,  to  declare  that 
city  in  a  state  of  siege.  He  liad  pre- 
viously commanded  in  Vendee,  un- 


the  staff,  and  served  with  gpreat  dis- 
tinction. In  September,  the  same 
year,  he  was  chosen  a  member  for 
the  department^of  Vienne.  When 
in  the  chamber  he  proposed,  in  1 8 16, 
a  law  for  rewarding  the  Vendeao 
officers  who  had  distinguished  them- 
selves, and  for  providing  for  the  wives 
and  children  of  those  who'  had  &1* 
len;  on  which  occasion  he  made  a 
long  speech,  lamenting  that  he  bad 
not  learned  to  handle  the  pen  as  wdl 
as  the  sword.  He  was,  by  an  ordoii> 
anceofMarchlG,  I8l6,namedpres- 
ident  of  tlie  council  of  war,  assem^ 
bled  to  try  general  Tmh^  Since 
that  he  has  comman^jj^various 
places,  but  in  1818,  he  wSnni plica- 
ted in  a  very  mysterious  plot,  the 
reality  of  which  was  never  ascertain- 
ed. Though  a  tried  friend  of  the 
king,  he  was  put  in  prison  as  having 
conspired,  with  a  number  of  others, 
to  dethrone  Louis  XVUI,  and  nlace 
the  government  in  the  handsof  Mon- 
sieur 5  but  after  remainiag  several 
weel«^  confined  in  secret,  he  was  set 
at  liberty,  the  judges  having  declar- 
ed, that  there  was  no  cause  for  accu- 
sation, though  he  had  been  arrested 
in  consequence  of  what  transpired 
on  private  interrogatories,  by  a  com- 
petent tribunal.*  As  all  the  exami- 
nations were  private,  tlie  real  cause 
of  the  acquittal  cannot  be  known; 
but  public  report  attributed  it  to 
Monsieur  himself  being  inoolicar 
ted  in  the  mysterious  afiair. .  Baron 
Canuel  has  since  been  restored  to 

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MISCELLA2CS0US. 


263 


fhToar,  and  is  at  this  time  command- 
er of  the  seventh  division  of  the  third 
coqiSy  under  prince  Hohenlohe,  ndw 
invading  the  Spanbh  territory. 


CASTEX. 
BA&oirpKTEaBfeRTRAND  Castex 

was  bom  in  Languedoc,  embraced 
a  mfilitary  lifb  at  an  early  period^ 
and.  from  being  a  private  soldier  at 
the  beginning  of  tlie  revolution^  he 
rose  by  degrees  to  be  major  of  the 
horse  chasseurs.  His  subsequent  rise 
was  rapid.  His  conduct  at  the  bat- 
tles of  Jena,  Eylau^  and  Friedland, 
procured  for  him  a  colonelcy,  and  I 
the  rank  of  commander  of  the  legion  " 
of  honour.  In  1808  he  was  made 
brigadier  ffeneral.  In  1812  he  dis- 
tinguished himself  at  Ostrowno,  and 
,  Polotsk,  and  in  1813  at  Dresden. 
After  the  battle  of  Leipsic,  he  effect* 
ed  his  retreat  on  Dutch  Brabant,  and 
defended  Antwerp.  He  was  made 
general  of  division  in  November, 
1813,  and  the  following  year  he  ob- 
tained from  the  king,  the  cross  of 
St.  Lenis.  J|y^  Napoleon  return-  " 
ed,  Caste^^^Kiployed  in  the  Ju- 
ra, und^^^pVders  of  Lecourbe. 
Since  the^Rond  restoration  of  the 
Bourbons  he  has  not  been  in  active 
service.  In  the  contest  now  waging 
wiih  Spain,  viscount  Castex  com- 
mands ^e  division  of  dragoons,  in 
the  corps  of  the  duke  of  Reggio. 


CURIAL. 

Cotmr  Cdrial  is  a  native  of  Sa- 
voy, being  bom  at  St.  Pierre  d'Al- 
bigny,  in  that  country,  in  1 774.  He 
served  under  Bonaparte  in  Egypt, 
and  ii)  1799  was  made  chefde-bat- 
taillon.  As  colonel  of  th^  forty 
eighth  reffiment,  he  so  greatly  dis- 
tinguishea  himself  at  the  battle  of 
Austerlitz,  that  Napoleon  gave  him 
the  cross  of  the  legion  of  honour. 
After  the  battle  of  Eylau,  he  was 
oMMle  colonel  of  the  foot  chasseurs , 
<tf  the  guards  5  and  after  the  battle 


of  Friedland,  brigadier  general  of 
the  same  corps,  and  ^also  received 
the  order  of  St,  Henry  of  Saxony. 
In  1809  he  added  to  his  reputation^  - 
by  his  conduct  at  the  battles  of  Gro8» 
Aspem,  and  Essling.  In  1812  he 
bore  a  part  in  the  Russian  compaign, 
and  hi  1813,  at  the  battle  of  Wa 
chau,  he  carried  a  post,  took  1200 
prisoners,  and  contributed  greatly  to 
the  victory  of  Hanau.  For  his  lat- 
ter services  he  obtained  the  grand 
cross  of  the  order  of  reunion.  In 
1814  he  commanded  at  Metz.  On 
the  restoration  of  Louis  XVIII,  Cu- 
rial  was  made  knight  of  St  Louis,  a 
peer,  grand  ofhcer  of  the  legion  of 
honour,  and  member  of  the  military 
tommission.  Napoleon,  on  his  re- 
tum  from  Elba,  took  from .  him  the 
command  of  the  chasseurs  of  the 
guards,  and  placed  him  at  the  head 
of  a  division  of  the  army  of  the  Alps. 
Since  his  return  Louis  has  given  him 
the  grand  cordon  of  the  legion  of 
honour.  Count  Curial  is  the  com- 
mander of  the  ei^th  division,  now 
invading  Catalonia,^  under  marshal 
Moncey. . 

DONNADIEU. 
Viscount  Donnadieu,  an  officer 
of  considerable  merit,  but  a  violent 
royalist,  was  born  in  the  south  of 
France,  in  1772,  and  was  a  captain 
of  dragoons  in  1793,  in  the  Fehruar 
ry  of  which  year,  he  presented  to  the 
convention,  a  standard  captured  by 
him  from  the  Prussians.  It  appears, 
therefore,  that  at  that  period  he 
had  no  objection  to  serve,  or  be  prais- 
ed, by  regicides.  In  the  campaign 
of  1796  he  distinguished  himself  un 
der  Moreau.  He  was  a  lieutenant 
colonel  under  the  consular  govern-  . 
ment,  but  for  some  unknown  cause, 
was  kept  prisoner,  for  several  years, 
in  the  castle  of  Locirde.  He  was  at 
length  released,  served  four  or  five 
years  with  reputation,  and  was  made 
a  brigadier  general.  At  the  end  of 
that  time  he  was  again  imprisoned, 

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264 


and  was  at  last  permitted  to  live  at 
Tours,  under  the  inspection  of  the 
poliiTe.  What  were  his  crimes  is  not 
known,  but  from  his  present  devo- 
tedness   for    the    Bourbons,    it  is 

J  probable,  that  he  had  intrigued  in 
avour  of  them.  When  Louis  was 
restored,  he  made  general  Douna- 
dieu  a  knight  of  St.  Louis,  and  gave 
him  the  command  of  one  of  tlie  de- 
partments. Doiinadieu  remained 
faithful  to  him.  Rejoined  thQ  dutch- 
essof  Angouleme  at  Bourdeaux,  and 
when  nothing  could  be  done  there, 
he  proceeded  to  Ghent,  at  which 
place  he  received  the  rank  of  lieu- 
tenant general.  On  the  second  re- 
enthronement  of  the  king,  general 
Donnadieu  was  seat  to  command  at 
Grenoble,  and  there  he  defeated  a 
conspiracy,  which  had  been  organ- 
•  ized  by  a  person  of  the  name  of  Di- 
dier.  For  this  he  was  rewarded  with 
the  title  of  viscount,  and  the  dignity 
of  a  commander  of  St  Louis.  He 
is  commander  of  the  tenth  division 
of  Moncey 's  corps,  and  by  recent  ad- 
vices is  stated  to  have  b^n  circum- 
vented by  generd  Mina,  in  Catalo- 
nia. 


MISCELLANEOUS* 

quainted  with  the  cotmtry,  wliiA 
was  the  scene  of  action.  He  was 
employed  in  Spain,  in  1808 ;  and  for 
his  conduct  at  the  battle  of  Rio  Seco, 
obtamed  the  cross  of  the  legion  of 
honour,  and  the  rank  of  brigadier 
general.  Iii  1812  he  distingubbed 
himself  in  Russia,  particulariy  at  the 
battle  of  Moskwa;  and  in  1813,  be 
defeated  the  Swedes  at  Dessau,  for 
which  he  was  raised  to  be  general  of 
division.  From  Louis  XV  HI  he  re- 
ceived several  honours  and  employ- 
ments, and  he  remained  faithful  to 
him.  He  has  been  actively  employ 
ed  since  the  second  return  of  the 
Bourbons.  General  Gwilleminot  is 
said  to  be  one  of  the  best  informed 
officen^  of  the  French  army,  and  is 
now  engaged  in  writing  a  general 
history  of  the  wars  of  our  tim».  In 
the  organization  of  the  forces  destio- 
ed  for  the  present  invasion  of  Spain, 
count  Guiileminot  fills  ^e  post  of 
major  general,  or  chief  of  the  staff 
under  Ske  duke  d'Angouleme. 


ansH^^Pand 


GUILLEMINOT. 
General  Guilleminot  is  a  Bel- 
gian, born  in  1774,  and  first  served 
in  the  army  of  his  countrymen,  in 
1790,  when  they  endeavoured  to 
throw  off  the  yoke  of  Austria.  Like 
«nany  of  his  companions,  he  took 
refuge  in  France,  where  he  entered 
into  the  military  seiTice,  and  became 
an  officer  in  the  stafU  •  After  the 
ilight  of  Dumourier,  Guilleminot 
was  put  under  arrest;  but  he  contriv* 
ed  to  escape,  and  joined  the  army  of 
Moreau,  by  whom  he  was  attached 
to  the  staff,  and  with  whom  he  made 
several  campaigns.  His  zeal  for 
that  commander  threw  himinto  tem- 
porary disgrace  with  Napoleon,  who, 
however,  called  him]  into  service  in 
the  Austrian  campaign  of  1805,Guil- 
leminot  being  eatceedingly  well  ac- 


HOHEP^^^ 
Princes  Louis^^^^^lles  Ho- 
henlohe  are  of  anHH^pand  illus- 
trious Franconian  family.  The  eld- 
er brother  was  bom  ia  1765.  Id  the 
commencement  of  the  French  cpvo- 
lution,  they  not  only  granted  the 
emigrant  Bourbons  an  asylum  in 
their  domains,  but  raised,  for  th«f 
service,  two  regiments  of  troops,  that 
were  severally  comm^ded  b)-  them- 
selves, and  at  the  head  of  which  they 
served  under  the  prince  of  Conde, 
and  distinguished  themselves  on* 
variety  of  occasions.  By  diminution 
the  two  corps  became,  eventually, 
consolidated,  and  remained  in  the 
cause  of  the  Bourbons,  till  the  di^ 
bandmentof  that  army  m  1801.  lo 
the  mean  time  prince  Louis,  htvinr 
left  this  detachment  to  the  comoiswi 
of  his  brother  Charles,  hunself  en- 
tered into  the  Austrian  service.  He 
first  was  under  Clairfay t  in  the  north, 
and  afterward^  in  Itiri^,  with  the  aich- 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


lIlSCBtUkNSOUS. 


265 


duke  Charley;  and  rose,  at  Iragth, 
to  the  rank  of  lieutenant  general, 
and  became,  in  1807,  governor  of 
the  two  Galicias.  Napoleon  was  so 
struck  with  hb  fidelity  to  the  cause 
of  the  French  princes,  that  he  offered 
to  reinstate  him  in  all  his  rights,  if 
he  would  become  one  of  his  adhe- 
rents; but  he  declined,  and  his  ter- 
ritory was  then  incorproated  with 
thitt  ofsWirtemberg.  On  the  resto- 
ration of  Louis  XVin,  both  broth- 
ers were  created  lieiUenant  generals 
in  the  French  army,  and  in  the  pres- 
ent invasion  of  Spain^  one  of  them 
Ims  been  appointed  commander  of 
the  third  corps. 


MOLITOR. 

LlKUTBNANT  GcNKaAL  MoLITOK 

was  bom  at  Hayange  in  Lorraine, 
in  1772,  entered  into  the  military 
service  at  the  breaking  out  of  the 
revolution,  and  was  rapidly  promo- 
ted. He  obtained  the  rank  of  adju- 
tant general  in  1793,  and  in  that  ca- 
pacity he  served  in  the  campaigns 
of  the  arimgn|^  Rhine  and  Mo- 
selle, an^^^B^d  several  severe 
wounds.^Hil^99  he  was  made  a 
brigadier  general,  and  was  employ- 
ed in  Switzerland,  under  Massena, 
in  which  country  he  established  his 
reputation.  Being  charged  with  the 
defence  of  the  valley  of  Claris, 
through  which  Suwarrow  wished  to 
penetrate,  Molitor,  though  attacked 
on  all  sides  by  superior  Austrian  and 
Russian  forces,  maintained  his 
ground  for  six  days ;  six  times  recov- 
ered the  bridge  of  Naefels,  and  at 
length  compelled  the  Russian  gene- 
ral to  seek  for  t  passage  in  another 
direction.  He  pursued  him,  and 
twice  defeated  his  rear  guard.  For 
this  Exploit  he  was  thai^Led  by  Mas- 
sena,  in  a  highly  complimentary  let- 
ter. He  rejoined  the  army  of  the 
Bhine,  contributed  greatly  to  the 
victory  of  Moeskirch,  mid  forced  the 
Austrian  lines  at  Goetziz,  Rankwill, 
and  Aitenstat,  by  which  >iieans  a  di- 
^OL.  II.  34 


rect  communication  was  secured  be- 
tween the  French  armies  of  Germa- 
ny and  Italy.  For  these  services  he  • 
wa^  rewarded  witii  the  rank  of  gene- 
ral of  division,  the  functions  of  which 
he  had  long  performed.  In  1804 
he  was  employed  in  Dalmatia,  and 
made  himself  master  of  the  mouths 
of  the  Cattaro.  In  the  campaign  of 
1809  he  bore  a  conspicuous  part, 
particularly  at  the  battle  of  Gross  As- 
pem.  He  was  at  the  head  of  the 
French  troops  in  Holland,  when  the 
revolution  broke  out  in  1813,  and 
with  his  small  force  he  made  strenu- 
ous, but  unsuccessful  efforts  to  stop 
the  progress  of  the  allies.  By  the 
king  he  was  honoured  with  various 
orders,  and  appointed  inspector  gen- 
eral of  infantry ;  yet  Molitor  never- 
theless accepted,  during  the  hundred 
days,  a  peerage,  the  command  of  the 
fifth  division  of  the  national  guiurds, 
and  the  governorship  of  the  imperial 
palace  of  Strasburgn.  On  the  res- 
toration of  Louis,  Slolitor  remained 
a  long  while  tmemployed,  but  on  the 
commencement  of  the  present  war 
against  Spain,  he  was  appointed  com- 
mander of  the  second  corps  of  the 
army  invading  that  country. 


MONCEY. 

Marshal  Moncsy,  Duke  op  Con- 
NEOLiAif  N^,  was  bom  at  Besancon  on 
the  thirty  first  of  July,  17M.  His 
father  was  an  advocate  of  the  parli- 
ment  of  that  city.  His  studies  were 
not  yet  finished  when  he  enrolled 
himself  a  |^rivate  in  the  regiment  of 
Conti.  His  family  obtained  his  re- 
lease, but  he  speedily  enlisted  in  the 
regiment  of  Champagne,  in  which 
he  served  in  the  grenadier  company 
till  1773,  when  he  bought  his  dis- 
charge, returned  to  Beacon,  and 
appUed  himself  to  the  study  of  the 
law.  In  1774  he*entered  the  corps 
of  gendftpmerie,  and  in  1778  took 
his  first  rank  as  second  lieutenant  of 
dragoons,  in  the  volunteers  of  Nas- 
sau Liegen.    In  1793  he  conunand- 


266 


HISCBLLANIOUS. 


ed  that  corps  in  the  army  of  the  Pjrr- 
renees.  In  April  1 794,  he  was  rais- 
ed to  the  rankH>f  general  of  brigade, 
and  in  the  May  following,  to  that  of 

Seneral  of  division.  He  served  with 
istinction  the  whole  of  that  war 
with  Spain ;  was  appomted,  in  1795, 
commander  in  chief  of  the  array  of 
the  Eastern  Pyrrenees,  and  signed 
the  subsequent  peace  between  France 
and  Spain.  Afler  the  overthrow 
of  the  directoiT,  general  Moncey 
was  appointed,  by  the  first  consul,  to 
the  command  of  a  military  division 
at  Lyons,  where  his  conduct  was  wor- 
thy of  praise  for  its  moderation  and 
wisdom.  La  Ae  campaign  of  Italy  ^ 
he  commanded  20,000  men,  and 
greatly  distingu'ished  himself.  Afler  | 
the  peace  of  Luneville,  general  Mon- 1 
cey  was  appointed  to  the  command 
of  the  departments  of  the  Oglio,  and 
of  the  Adda ;  and  in  1 801  was  named 
inspector  general  t}f  the  gendarme- 
tie.  He  was  made  marshal  of  France 
in  1804,  and  grand  of&cer  of  the  le- 
gion of  honour.  In  Napoleon's  war 
with  Spain,  he  maintained  his  repu- 
tation. He  served  in  the  campaigns 
of  1812  and  1813,  and  in  1814  was 

f  appointed  second  in  command  of  the 
Parisian  national  guard ;  and  when 
Napoleon  took  hb  departure  for  the 
army,  pledged  himself  to  watch,  with 
hew  zeal,  over  the  interests  of  the 
empire,and  the  safety  of  Paris.  This 
brave  officer  was  faithful  to  his  word. 
At  the  attack  of  the  allies  on  Paris, 
he  displayed  a  presence  of  mind,  and 
firmness,  which  added  new  honours 
to  his  name.  He  finally/assembled, 
in  the  Champs  Elysees,  the  wrecks 
of  the  trodps  of  the  line,  who  were 
left  without  commanders,  and  the 
next  day  marched  at  their  head  out 
of  Paris.  On  the  tenth  of  April  he 
received,  at  Fontainbleau,  the  adhe- 
sion of  the  gendarmerie  to  the  new 

,  government,  and  repaired  the  follow- 
ing day  to  Paris,  and  gav6  liis  own 
adhesion  to  all  the  acts  of  the  same 
government     After  the  arrival  of 
he  king,  marshal  Moncey  was  nam- 


ed minister  of  sute,  knight  of  St. 
Louis,  and  peer  of  France,  and  con- 
tinued to  exercise  the  functions  of 
inspector  eener^  of  the  gendarme- 
rie. On  Uie  approach  of  Napoleon 
from  tLlba,  he  addressed  to  this  corps 
an  order  of  the  day,  in  which  he  in- 
vited them  to  remain  faithful  to  thelr 
engagements  to  the  king.  But  on 
the  arrivd  of  the  emperor  at  Paris, 
he  was  made  a  peer  of  France,  and 
in  consequence  of  that  nomination^ 
he  lost  the  title  on  the  return  of  Lou* 
is  to  the  throne.  Having  afterwardi 
declined  presiding  at  the  coxayc}!  of 
war  appomted  to  try  marshal  Nev, 
he  was  deprived  of  his  military  rank, 
and  sent  prisoner,  for  three  months, 
to  the  castle  of  Ham.  On  diis  oo 
casion,  he  addressed  his  celebrated 
memorial  to  the  king,  justifying  hb 
political  conduct,  and  declaring,  that 
let  him  be  deprived  of  what  tides 
he  mieht,  he  should  never  surrend- 
er his  honour.  He  was  afterwards, 
however,  restored  to  his  former  rank, 
and  has  recently  be^i  appointed 
commander  of  the  leftwing,  or  foordi 
corps,  of  the  arm]gflK|d  for  the 
invasion  of  Spaini^^^BBlngalar 
fact,  that  marshal  iffiRHy  b  now 
engaged  in  combatting  for  the  cause 
of  ctespotbm,  on  the  same  spot, 
where,  precisely  thirty  years  ago,  he 
so  gloriously  fought  for  the  li&rties 
of  France,  against  the  mcrcenariei 
of  Spain  I. 


OUDINOT. 
Marshal  Ocdinot,  Dukb  op 
Rbooio,  was  bom  at6a^«ur-Ofnah^ 
the  twenty  fiAh  of  April,  l^GT,  and 
was  origmally  intended  for  a  me^ 
cantile  occupation,  but  scarcely  had 
attained  his  sixteeiitfa  year,  when  an 
irresistible  inclination  prompted  hiai 
to  embrace  the  profession  of  arav. 
In  1784,  he  entered  into  the  regi* 
ment  of  Medoc,  but  quitted  the  ff^ 
vice  in  1787,  in  compliance  with  the 
entreaties  of  an  aged  father.  Re- 
turning  toJlif^byfe  remained  there 


MI8CXIXANS0US. 


26r 


tiU  the  ooqjunenceinent  of  the  revo- 11 
lution,  when  he  early  gave  8peci-|| 
mens  of  that  cool  intrepidity,  and 
love  of  order,  which  have  ever  been 
his  distinguishing  qualities.  In  1789/ 
tumultuous  assemblages  in  this,  as 
well  as  other  parts  of  the  kingdom, 
excited  apprehensions  as  to  the  se- 
curity of  persons  and  property; 
whereupon  young  Oudinot  coUected 
a  company  of  his  friends,  put  himself 
at  their' head,  attacked  the  disorder- 
ly, and  delivered  them  into  the  hands 
of  justice.  On  the  declaration  of 
war  against  Austria,  he  was  made 
chief  of  one  of  the  batalions  of  the 
volunteers  of  La  Meuse,  and  in  that 
capacity,  distinguished  himself  in 
defending  the  castle  of  Bitche,  in 
1792.  In  the  pursuit  of  the  Prus- 
sians for  three  leagues,  he  took  700 
prisoners,  whence  he  was  sumamed 
The  brave,  and  advanced  to  the  col- 
onelcy of  the  regiment  of  Picardy. 
On  joining  his  regiment,  he  found 
most  of  the  officers  inclined  to  emi- 
grate. Having  notice  of  this,  he 
invited  them  to  a  conference,  and 
there  franjyji^owing  his  own  sen- 
timents, neVPhiiled  on  them  to  re- 
main with  mhi,  excepting  two  or 
three  near  relations  of  his  predeces- 
sor in  the  command.  In  1794,  he 
was  attacked  near  Morlauter,  by  a 
body  of  10,000  men,  which  separa- 
ted him  from  the  rest  of  the  army. 
With  his  own  regiment  alone,  he 
contended  against  six  regiments  of 
horse;  and  when  surrounded,  and 
summoned  to  surrender,  he  formed 
a  square,  and  with  the  bayonet, 
made  good  his  retreat.  On  their  re- 
turn to  camp,  ^^  Oudinot,"  was  given 
as  the  rallyhig  word,  and  the  conr 
duct  of  the  regiment  of  Picardy  was 
'particularly  mentioned  in  the  gene- 
ral orders.  In  consequence  0?  this 
action,  he  was  promoted  to  the  rank 
of  general  of  brigade.  In  the  same 
campaign,  he  got  possession  of  the 
city  of  Treves,  by  a  bold  manoevre, 
and  remained  in  the  command  of 
that  place  for  some  time.    He  then 


joined  the  army  of  the  Rhine  and 
Moselle,  and  at  Neckerau  was  at- 
tacked in  the  night,  when  the  dark- 
ness was  such  that  he  could  not  dis- 
tingubh  his  own  men.  Here,  dis- 
abled by  five  sabre  wounds,  he  was 
taken  prisoner,,  and  detained  for  a 
few  months  in  Germany.  On  re- 
joining the  army,  he  wa»  engaged 
in  a  number  of  actions,  and  at  In- 
goldstadt,  received  several  severe 
wounds.  He  retired  to  Ulm  for  a 
few  days  only,  and  soon  after,  witli 
his  arm  in  a  scarf,  at  the  head  of  a 
regiment  of  hussars  and  two  of  dra- 
goons, he  took  a  whole  battalion 
prisoners.  In  the  army  of  tlie  Da- 
nube, among  other  splendid  exploits^ 
he  made  himself,  master  of  Con- 
stance, defended  by  the  Austrians 
and  the  corps  of  Conde.  As  a  gen- 
eral of  division,  he  contributed  ma- 
terially to  the  victory  of  Zurich, 
where  he  was  wounded  by  a  ball  in 
the  breast.  He  served  in  Italy,  as 
head  of  the  staff,  under  Massena. 
During  the  siege  of  Genoa,  he  pass- 
ed twice  through  the  ^hole  British 
fleet,  in  a  slight  skiff,  as  the  bearer 
of  a  communication  from  his  com- 
mander to  general  Suchet,  and  suc- 
ceeded in  the  enterprise  to  the  gpreat 
astonishment  of  all  the  spectators. 
Under  the  consular  government,  he 
distinguished  himself  on  the  banks 
of  the  Mincio,  and  received  a  sabre 
of  honour.  On  the  elevation  of  Na- 
poleon to  the  sovereignty,  Oudinot 
was  placed  at  the  heftd  of  a  division 
of  grenadiers,  and  signalized  himself 
at  Austerlitz,  and  aU  the  preceding 
battles.  At  Friedland,  he  withstood 
for  many  hours  tlie  attack  of  80,000 
Russians,  against  his  single  division  ^ 
and  at  Wagram,  his  merit  was  so 
conspicuous  thai  he  was  made  a 
marshal  of  the  empire,  and  created 
duke  of  Reggio.  He  afterwards 
commanded  at  Amsterdam,  and  then 
as  goveirnor  of  Berlin.  In  the  dis- 
astrous Russian  campaign,  he  was  at 
the  head  of  the  second  corps ;  and, 
on  on^  occasion,  saved  himself  froi^ 


268 


MABONIC. 


capture  by  the  most  desperate  bra- 
very. He  continued  to  support  the 
falhug  fortunes  of  the  emperor  up  to 
the  period  of  his  abdication ;  but  de- 
clined serving  him  after  his  return 
from  Elba.  He  accordingly  retained 
Che  confidence  of  the  king  on  his  re- 
storation^  and  was  then  declared 
commander  in  chief  of  the  national 
guard  of  Paris^  a  peer  of  France, 
and  a  minister  of  state. 

In  the  present  unhallowed  war 
upon  the  liberties  of  the  Spanish  na- 
tion, marshal  Oudinot  has  consented 
to  tarnish  the  lustre  of  his  military 
services  by  the  acceptance  of  an  im- 
portant command;  and  is  at  the 
Dead  of  tlie  first  corps,  now  march- 
ing on  Mctdrid. 


SWa^sQfotilc^ 


GEP9ERAL  GRAND  LODGE  OF  THE 
UNITED  STATES. 

We  are  highly  gratified  to  see  the 
subject  of  a  general  grand  lodge 
again  in  agitation;  and  we  confi- 
dently hop^,  for  the  honour  of  our 
ancient  order,  and  for  the  general 
good  of  community,  that  each  grand 
lodge  in  the  United  States  will  de- 
liberately weigh  the  great  impor- 
tance of  the  subject,  and  appoint 
suitable  delegates  to  meet  in  con- 
vention, agreeably  to  the  request  of 
the  most  worshipful  and  highly  re- 
spectable grand  lodge  of  the  District 
of  Columbia,  and  that  measures  may 
be  concerted,  whereby  the  great  bo- 
dy of  masons  in  this  country  may  no 
longer  be  left,  like  a  <^  trunk  without 
a  head,''  and  destitute  of  any  place 
of  appeal,  on  necessary  occasions. 

Subordination  is  indispensably  ne- 
cessary, for  the  harmony,  and  good 
government  of  all  societies,  either 


religious,  political,  or'ttionl;  and 
recent  experience  has  proved  to  a 
demonstration,  to  all  candid  masoos 
who  have  duly  examined  tke  sdb- 
ject,  that  notwithstanding  it  is  out  af 
the  power  of  men  and  devils  united, 
even  with  the  great  Alexander  at 
their  head,  to  destroy  our  institution; 
yet,  even  the  purity  of  the  prnicipifis 
of /reeiiMMOfirjf  is  not  so  inviilnem> 
ble  as  to  prevent  the  introduction  of 
local' prejudices^  which  have  facra 
while,  almost,  if  not  eatirely,  sus- 
pended the  usefulness  of  the  order, 
in  a  large  portion  of  our  country. 

Masons,  at  all  times,  and  in  all 
countries,  should  have  such  regula- 
tions annsng  themselves,  as  to  be 
enabled  to  ac^nst  any  nrinmder- 
standing,  or  matter  of  diierence^ 
that  might  unhappily  take  place, 
without  resorting  to  the  civil  law,  or 
allowing  in  the  least  degree,  any  of 
their  afiairs  to  bec^a^ubjects  of 
public  discussion.  T^^pHb  end,  a 
general  grand  lodge  in  the  United 
States,  or  if  it  included  the  whole 
territory  of  NcMth  America,  perhaps 
it  would  be  better,  b  absolutely  ne- 
cessary. All  good  masons,  who  wi^ 
to  preserve  inviolable  the  ancient 
loHdmarksymU  readily  acknowledge, 
that  such  a  body  is  as  requisite  ior 
the  good  order  and  usefulness  of  the 
fraternity,  as  is  the  congress  of  the 
United  States,  for  the  preservation 
of  the  political  institutions  of  our 
country,  and  the  rights  of  its  dti- 
sens;  or  as  superior  courts  of  justice 
are  to  the  equitable  administratkn 
of  the  laws  of  any  country.  Almost 
innumerable  arguments  might  be  oA 
fered  in  its  favour;  but  we  consider 
those  contamed  p^^^fijj,,^ 


MAiomc. 


269 


brief,  and  well  written  report  of  the 
committee  appointed  by  the  grand 
lodge  of  the  District  of  Columbia^ 
abundantly  sufficient  to  convince 
every  reflecting  brother  of  the  utility 
of  the  measure  proposed ;  and  we 
not  only  recommend  it  to  the  at- 
tentive consideration  of  the  mem- 
bers of  tlie  several  grand  lodges  of 
our  country,  but  to  the  serious  at- 
tention of  the  different  subordinate 
lodges,  and  of  every  individual  be- 
longing to  the  fraternity,  into  whose 
hands  the  Masonic  Register  may 
fall. 

From  the  MiisoNic  Caskbt* 

GRAND  LODGE  OF  THE  DISTRICT 
OP  COLUMBIA.  i 

At  a  semi-annual  communication 
of  the  grand  lodge  of  the  District  of 
Columbia,  held  at  their  room,  in 
the  City  of  Washington,  on  Tues-J 
day,  the  6th  of  May,  A.  L.  5823, 
A.  D:  1823.- 

On  the  rqort  of  the  committee  of 
Correspond&ce, 

Resolvedf  That  a  Committee  be 
appointed  to  drall  and  transmit  an 
address  to  the  respective  grand 
lodges  of  the  United  States,  inviting 
their  renewed  attention  to  tlie  sub- 
ject of  a  general  grand  lodge  of  the 
United  States,  and  requesting  tliem 
to  appoint  delegates  to  meet  in  con- 
vention at  the  city  of  Washington, 
on  the  third  Wednesday  of  February 
next,  with  authority  to  adopt  such 
measures  as  may  be  deemed  most 
expedient  for  the  accomplishment  of 
this  object. 

Resolvedf  That  such  grand  lodges 
as  shall  approve  of  this  object,  and 
take  measures  for  the  accomplish- 
ment thereof,  be  respectfully  re- 
quested to  transmit  a  copy  of  such 
proceedingis  to  the  secretary  of  this 
grand  lod^. 

Ordered,  That  brothers  Samuel 
BuBCH,  Amos  Albxakdek,  Gsokoe 


H.  Richards,  Daniel  Kurtz,  and 
John  Davidson,   be  appointed    a 
committee,  pursuant    to    the   first 
resolution. 
Attest,  WILLIAM  LAMBERT,    V 
Grand  Secretary, 

REPORT. 

In  execution  of  the  preceding  re- 
solutions, the  committee,  appointed 
for  that  purpose,  would  respectfully 
solicit  the  renewed  auention  of  the 
grand  lodges  in  the  United  States  to 
me  expediency  of  a  general  grand 
lodge.  In  presenting  this  request,  we 
will  not  forbear  the  expression  of  our 
hope,  that  it  will  be  received  by  the 
grand  lodges  in  the  spirit  by  which 
it  is  prompted,  and  with  their  accus- 
tomed liberality  and  candour. 

It  is  not  the  intention  of  the  com- 
mittee to  enter  ioto  an  eulogium  on 
masonry.  Its  principles  are  too  well 
understood,  and  too  higiily  respect^ 
ed  by  those  enlightened  bodies 
whom  we  have  the  honour  to  ad- 
dress^ to  render  such  ft  task  Either 
necessary  or  proper.  Witli^  com- 
mon love  of  the  institution,  with  a 
common  ambition  for  its  character, 
and  a  common  interest  in  its  pros- 
perity, we  proceed,  therefore,  to  the 
discharge  of  our  appropriate  duty. 

From  tlie  antiquity  of  our  order, 
its  universality,  the  character  and 
number  of  its  members,  its  purity 
and  beneficence  of  principle,  anci 
the  extent  of  its  influence,  the  mason 
justly  prides  himself  in  its  existence ; 
and  the  philanthropist  contemplates, 
with  joy,  its  capabilities  of  good.  If 
such  be  its  attributes;  if  its  prescrib- 
ed duty  and  peculiar  province  be  to 
relieve  distress,  to  reform  vice,  to  en- 
lighten ignorance,  strengthen  the  ties 
of  friendship,  and  bind  the  family  of 
mankind  together  in  bonds  of  love ; 
in  a  word,  to  extend  the  dominion 
of  virtue,  and  the  sphere  of  happi- 
ness 5  why,  the  sceptic  and  the 
cavili$t  will  inquire,  are  not  these  ef- 
fects produced?  We  answer,  that 
they  are  \  that  the  progress  of  ma- 


270  MASONIC. 

SQnry^  like  that  of  time,  though  unr 
seen  and  unheard,  is  steady  and  in- 
vincible ;  that  our  charities,  like  our 
rites,  are  administered  in  secret; 
and  that  our  offices  of  counsel,  ad- 
monition, and  reformation,  are  per- 
formed also  in  privacy,  from  the 
same  motive  of  delicacy,  unambi- 
tious of  applause,  and  satisfied  with 
deserving  it.  To  the  imputations  of 
our  enemies,  however,  we  further 
answer,  that,  if  the  effects  which 
might  be  expected  as  the  natural  re- 
sults of  our  principles,  have  not 
ripened  into  that  full  fruition,  which 
every  good  man  would  delight  to 
witness,  the  defect  is  chiefly  assign- 
able to  the  want  of  more  general, 
uniform,  and  harmonious  organiza- 
tion of  our  society. 

The  advantages  of  such  an  or- 
ganization, are,  we  believe,  incon- 
trovertible. They  are  conceded  by 
the  tacit  acknowledgement,  or  ex- 
press assent  of  many  respectable 
Dranches  of  our  institution.  The 
grand  lodges  of  New-Hampshire, 
Connecticut,  South  Carolina,  <3eor- 
gia,  and  pro)>ably  of  other  states, 
nave,  at  different  periods,  officially 
expressed  their  conviction  of  the 
utility,  not  to  say  the  necessity,  of 
a  general  grand  lodge.  A  general 
masonic  jurisdiction  will  give  us 
ufUtyi  and  a  correspondent  strength 
and  respectability.  It  will  facilitate 
our  correspondence  with  the  frater- 
nity in  foreign  countries ;  and  pro- 
duce a  more  regular  correspondence 
among  ourselves.  It  will  thus  con- 
centrate and  diffiise  a  valuable  mass 
of  information,  and  cause  a  more 
cordial  union  and  constant  co-opera- 
tion. It  will  act,  as  an  umpire,  in  re- 
conciling any  collisions  which  may 
arise  among co-ordinatejurisdicttons. 
It  win  promote  an  uniform  and  cor- 
rect mode  of  working  throughout  our 
lodges.  It  may  impose  new,  or  enforce 
the  old  restraints  upon  the  admission 
of  improper  candidates.  It  may  cor- 
rect the  flagitious  abuses  of  unwar- 
ranted, 9nd  unwarrantidile  pubUca- 


tions.  It  may  abolish  tlie  degradaif 
and  ruinous  practice  of  unlicensed 
lecturers.  It  may  interdict,  under  its 
highest  penalties,  the  mercenary  ki- 
tr^uction  of  false  degrees.  In  sliort, 
the  evils,  whether  of  a  more  roiButc 
or  aggravated  degree,  are  almost  in- 
numerable, which,  for  want  of  a  ss- 
pervisory  power,  have  crept,  and  in 
the  absepce  of  such  a  power^  will  con- 
tinue to  creep  into  our  insutntioD  ; 
insensibly,  and  ofren  insidk>usly  tar- 
nishing its  lustre,  poisoning  its  puri- 
ty, ana  impairing  its  efficacy.  On  the 
contrary,  the  advantages  resuldng 
from  such  a  power,  not  only  nega- 
tively, by  the  prevention  c^  theae 
evils,  but  positively,  by  the  establisb- 
ment  of  wholesome  regulations,  by 
infusing  new  health  into  our  ajttemy 
and  informing  it  with  new  energy, 
are  also  immense^  and  almost  in- 
calculable. 

An  organization,  therefore,  winch 
would  invest  such  a  power  in  a  suit- 
able tribunal,  could  not  fail  to  impart 
dignity  and  elevation  to  our  charac* 
ter,  both  at  home  and  abroad ;  in- 
spire wisdom  into  our  councils,  and 
activity  into  otur  measures  ^  and  ope- 
rate as  a  means  to  spread  the  influ- 
ence, secure  the  triumph,  and  per- 
petuate the  ascendancy  of  our  prin- 
ciples. It  would  awaken  a  salutary 
emulation  among  the  various  branch- 
es of  our  fraternity  throughout  this 
extensive  confederacy,  and  stimu- 
late individual  exertion  for  general 
advancement.  It  would  be  as  a  bal- 
ance wheel  to  regulate  the  move- 
ments of  the  whme ;  and,  like  the 
political  union  of  these  states,  would 
mcrease  the  strength,  concert,  and 
respectability  of  aU  the  parts,  with- 
out encroachment  on  the  just  pre- 
rogatives of  any.  It  would  raise 
the  beneflts  of  our  order  into  an  ob- 
ject of  sedulous  pursuit,  and  proud 
attainment  to  all  those,  whose  mem- 
bership would  reflect,  with  added 
lustre,  the  honour  they  received.  It 
would  thus  strengthen  the  pitlara, 
and  widen  the  focQidationS;  of  our 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


edifice ;  whilst  it  crowned  it  with  an  | 
arch,  both  beautiful,  and  majestic. 
And  who  does  not  long  to  see  the 
day,  when  the  solidity  of  its  struc- 
ture, as  welt  as  the  beauty  of  its  de- 
corations, and  the  harmony  of  its 
proportions,  shall  not  only  confirm  ] 
our  own  attachment,  but  excite  the 
admiration  of  our  opponents ;  when 
the  virtuous,  and  the  intelligent,  the 
honourable,  and  the  powerful,  with  a 
laudable  ambition,  shall  throng  the 
avenues  of  our  temple,  and  cqmpete 
for  the  privilege  of  mitiation  mto 
our  mysteries  ? 

These  advantages,  it  is  alledged 
by  some,  will  be  countervailed  by 
superior  evils.  From  the  sincere  re- 
spect which  we  cherbh  for  those 
who  entertain  this  distrust  of  an  at- 
tempt at  improvement,  we  deem  it 
our  duty  to  notice  their  objections. 
The  grand  lodge  of  Pennsylvania, 
highly  respectable  for  the  intelli- 
gence of  its  members,  and  justly 
proud  of  their  numbers,  sources,  and 
reputation,  in  the  report  of  their 
committee  on  this  subject,  have  urg- 
ed, in  substance,  that  the  formation 
of  a  general  grand  lodge,  would  be 
creating  a  supreme  or  sovereign  tri- 
bunal invested  with  dictatorisd  and 
arbitrary  powers ;  that  such  a  body 
would  embrace,  in  its  cognizance,  as 
well  the  most  minute  as  most  im- 
portant interests  of  the  ifhiternity^ 
that  it  would  usurp  the  prerogatives 
of  the  graud  lodges,  receive  appeals 
from  them,  reverse  their  sentences, 
cancel  their  proceedings,  procrasti- 
nate business,  limit  their  authori^r^ 
and,  in  effect,  render  them  subordi- 
nate. It  will  plainly  be  perceived, 
that  most  of  those  objections  are 
predicated  on  the  presumed  abuse 
of  the  tribunal.  It  will  also  be 
recollected,  that  the  nature  and  ex- 
tent of  its  powers  and  privileges,  of 
its  rights  and  duties,  must  to  the 
subject  of  deliberation  in  the  con- , 
vention  called  to  adopt  it^^  which 
convention  will  undoubtedly  be  com- 
posed of  honourable   and   intelli- 


MASONIC  S71 

gent  masons,  feeling  a  deep  solici- 
tude for  the  general  welfare  of  the 
ihstitution,  and  bound  by  the  most 
solemn  ties  to  promote  it.  This  con- 
vention will,  of  course,  determine,  as 
well  on  the  extent  and  limitation  of 
the  authority  to  be  reposed  in  a  gen- 
eral grand  lodge,  and  on  the  :time 
and  place  of  its  meetings,  as  on  ev^ 
ry  other  provision  of  its  constitu- 
tion. The  objections,  therefore, 
founded  on  these  considerations,  ap- 
pear to  us  to  be  necessarily  hypothet- 
ical and  gratuitc^us.  Besides,  if  any 
inconvenience  should  be  experien- 
ced from  the  operation  of  the  propo- 
sed codhcil  with  its  limited  powers,  an 
obvious  remedy  will  be  foutid  in  the 
liability  of  the  constitution  to  any 
amendment  which  experience  may 
suggest.  It  will  also  be  conceded, 
that  it  would  be  much  more  practi- 
cable to  correct  any  defect  of  such  a 
constitution,  than  it  is  to  remedy 
those  other  evils,  which  dd  not  exist 
merely  in  a  fertile  apprehension  of 
contingent  danger,  but  have,  at  this 
time,  an  actual  and  baneful  opera- 
tion. If  a  grand  lodge  be  found,  by 
experience,  to  be  salutary  in  the  ex- 
ercise of  its  jurisdiction  over  subor- 
dinate lodges,  why  would  a  general 
grand  lodge  interfere  with  the  rights, 
or  infringe  the  privileges  of  the 
grand  lodges  ?  Do  not  the  same  ar- 
guments urge  its  formation;  and 
would  not  the  same  benefits,  only  in 
a  higher  degree,  be  derived  from  it? 
In  every  other  nation,  where  our  in- 
stitution is  not  proscribed,  a  national 
lodge,  with  its  superintending  lights 
and  duties,  is  established;  in  Eng- 
land, France,  &c.  &c.  Have  not  we 
the  same  motives  of  interest  and 
honour  for  the  adoption  of  a  similar 
policy?  If  this  policy  be  beneficial 
to  the  craft  in  other  countries,  can 
it  be  injurious  in  ours  ?  A  sufficient 
answer  would  also  be  afforded,  as  we 
conceive,  to  the  objections  urged  on 
this  point,  that  the  evils,  thus  san- 
guinely  anticipated,  and  vividly  por- 
trayed, are  not  realised  in  the  expe- 


272 


MASONIC. 


rience  of  the  general  fffand  chapter. 
That  body  has  now  been  long  es- 
tablished, and  has  exercised  its  pow- 
ers  with  pure  and  unmixed  advan- 
tage to  that  higher  department  of 
masonry,  receiving  the  approbation 
and  support  of  the  grand  and  subor- 
diuate'chapters,  conferring  the  ben- 
efits, and  restraining  the  evils  which 
we  have  enumerated. 

The  grand  lodge  of  Pennsylvania 
also  urge,  as  an  objection  to  the  loca- 
tion of  th3  proposed  council  at  Wash- 
ington, its  distance  from  many  of  the 
grand  lodges ;  at  the  same  time,  they 
represent  that  the  delegates  to  such  a 
body  would,  probably,  be  often  se- 
lected from  persons  assembled  here 
by  public  or  psivate  busineiss,  and 
that  consequently,  the  selection  of 
delegates,  it  was  to  be  feared,  would 
be  determined  by  a  regard,  rather  to 
their  rank  and  dignity  in  life,  than  to 
their  masonic  qualifications.  With 
respect  to  the  distance,  we  hardly 
think  that  any  true  mason  would  suf- 
fer himself  to  put  his  personal  con- 
venience in  competition  with  the 
honour  and  interest  of  the  institution ; 
and  if  any  should  be  governed  by  such 
a  motive,  we  are  willing  to  persuade 
ourselves,  that  the  distinction  and  im- 
portance of  the  appointment  would 
induce  its  acceptance,  by  those  mem- 
bers most  competent  to  discharge  its 
duties  with  credit  and  advantage.  It 
will  also  not  be  denied,  that  a  general 
grand  lodge,  centrally  located,  can  be 
attended  by  its  members  with  more 
convenience  and  economy  than  at  any 
other  position;  because,  the  more 
central  the  position,  the  nearer  to  the 
whole  circle  of  out  society,  and  the 
more  particularly  convenient  to  its 
extreme  branches;  and  because,  as 
stated  in  the  objection,  brethren  are 
often  assembled  here  on  private  or 
public  business,  who,  (if  required,) 
could  discharge  the  duties  of  a  dele- 
gate, without  inconvenienee  to  them- 
selves, or  expense  to  the  society,  and 
yet,  perhaps,  with  zeal  and  fidelity, 
with  prudence  vid  ability.  As  to  the 


other  objection,  if  the  ddegates  sheoM 
occasionally  be  selected  Irom  among 
those,  who  may  be  called  hither  by 
their  official  functions^  from  amonf 
nien  honoured  with  the  confidence, 
and  entrusted  with  the  aathori^  of 
the^  country,  who  are  the  reposito- 
ries of  our  laws  and  liberties,  and 
often  of  our  lives  and  fortiines ;  we 
can  perceive  no  ground  of  dai^er 
from  such  selection.  Indeedy.their  co- 
operation in  our  councils,  and  parti- 
cipation of  our  rites,  must  reflect  on 
masonry  the  lustre  of  their  talents  and 
station;  at  the  same  time,  that  from 
then*  character  and  respoosifaility,  as 
well  masonic  as  political,  they  would 
afiTord  every  possible  pledge  and 
guarantee  of  the  wisdom  tod  pon^ 
with  which  our  deliberations  wqaid 
be  conducted. 

The  grand  lodge  of  Pennsylvania, 
notwithstanding  these  objections  to  a 
general  masonic  jurisdiction,  appear 
to  be  aware  of  the  advantages  de- 
rivable from  it ;  as  they  have  them- 
selves invited  a  convention,  to  meet 
at  Philadelphia,  for  the  purpose  of 
consulting  on  the  interests  of  the  fra- 
ternity ;  and  thereby  acknowledge  the 
necessity  of  remedying  the  abuses  de- 
lineated, and  the  utility  of 'a  more  in- 
timate connection,  if  not  of  a  feder^ 
authority  among  the  grand  lodges. 
What  they  propose  by  temporary 
expedients,  we  would  e0ect  by  pernia- 
nentr  egulations.  This  appears  to  us 
to  be  the  amount  of  the  difi*erence  be- 
tween us. 

One  other  objection  against  the 
formation  of  a  general  grand  lodge, 
but  more  particularly,  against  its  lo> 
cation  at  the  seat  of  the  general  gov- 
ernment, we  have  heard  ur^ed  with 
much  emphasis  in  conversation ;  hot 
which  we  are  happy  to  perceive,  has 
not  been"  adduced  by  the  highly  re- 
spectable body  already  referred  to. 
We  cannot  but  deem  the  all^ation  a 
reflection  on  the  institution  itself;  is, 
however,  we  have  reason  to  believe 
that  it  has  its  weight  on  the  minds  of 
some  worthy  members  whose  delica- 


cy  of  motive  vn  bigMy  apprtdMe,  k 
kttcmnes  otir  daty  to  nolioe  It.  Tbey 
eontidin^  tlmt  hy  its  kicatkKi  at  tbe 
aational  capitti,  a  lodge,  inveated 
with  tlie  fVOfMiaed  powers  of  advice 
and  sapfniriKioa,  would  be  ^ngermis 
to  ita  own  ciiaraeter  of  m»tonic  puri- 
ty  and  iudependance ;  ibu  it  woold  be 
Uttble  ta  paliitcal  btasset,  ami  be 
warped  to  personal  views,  that  it 
WMikty  in  fict,  be  rendered  subeer- 
vieiit  to  objects  of  ainbilion,  and  be 
eottvcned  into  an  instrument  of  party, 
or  the  tooi  of  faetion.  In  refutation  of 
wliat  we  are  liompeUed,  by  oar  benest 
con  victiottS)  to  deprecate  as  a  calumny 
on  masonry,  we  proudly  appeal  to  its 
history,  to  its  very  nature  and  princi- 
ples, to  its  constitution,  the  materials 
of  whidi  it  if  composed,  and  its  ac- 
tual operation.  In  all  past  nges  we 
challenge  our  calumniators  to  desig- 
^B&te  the  perbd,  when  it  has  lent  its 
support  to  the  oppressions  of  the  des- 
pot, or  the  intrigues  of  the  dema- 
gogue; when  it  has,  on  one  hand,  ei- 
ejrted  itself  for  the  establislmient  of 
Mrbluary  power,  or,  on  the  other,  Ib- 
mented  the  dissentiona  of  party,  and 
the  feuds  of  faction ;  when  it  has  de- 
lighted iu  sedition  and  anarchy,  or 
eonleMled  against  liberty  and  law :  in 
a  wordy  sh^  us  the  period  when  it 
has  not  approved  itself  the  friend  of 
good  order,  and  good  ffovemment; 
and  when  it  has  not  cherished  the 
love^  as  it  lias  cultivated  the  arts,  of 
peace.  It  could  nevec  have  pursued  a 
difieient  policy  without  infringement 
uf  its  constitution,  a  violafion  of  its 
aEMtst  sacred  preempts,  and  tbe  aban- 
donment of  its  genius.  In  our  coun- 
try, where  it  enrols  on  its  records  the 
Fatktr  of  1m  Camdryj  and  many  ol' 
those  sages  who  dtsvited,  and  heroes 
who  executed  the  work  of  our  Inde- 
peodenoe,  the  testimony  of  ezperienuf 
is  not  less  itiaitrious  a«d  decisive  S[ 
the  uoossatlabb  puriiy^and  inftnnble 
itttegniy  of  our  iustitotioo,  than  is  the 
mtiibm  tenoor  of  its  conduct  in  all 
other  coumries.  Its  principles  are  not 
more  at  variABcewiuhaffp  perversion  | 

VOL.  II.  ?5 


oi  lis  infcence  to  pditieal  purposes, 
than  its  mterest ;  for  such  perversion 
would  instantly  destroy  that  iniu- 
ence,  which  it  now  justly  enjoys,  and 
which  is  powerlbl  for  all  moral  d»- 
jects,  but  mart  and  negative  (br  -all 
objects  of  an  opposite  cast.  It  would 
be  annihilated  the  nKMuent  it  was  il* 
legkinialely  appKed.  Such  an  appli- 
cation of  it  W(Hild,  also,  be  impracti- 
cable; because  our  society  is  compo- 
sed of  every  class  of  the  community,  of 
every  variety  of  interest.  It  embraces 
alike  att  parties,  as  well  as  all  sects, 
and  would  be  as  liable  to  the  imputa- 
tion of  fostering  bigotry,  superstition, 
or  sectarianism,  as  of  inflaming  the 
animosities  of  political  contention ;  it 
might  be  as  justly  suspected  of  being 
the  propiq^or  of  a  sect,  as  the  ally 
of  a  parly. 

Why,  then, 'permit  ourselves  to 
harbour  these  unjust  and  ungener- 
ous imputations  against  our  society, 
though  prompted,  we  acknowledge, 
by  a  %'enial  excess  of  n  jealousy  for  its 
honour,  and  a  keen  susceptibility  to 
the  bare  possibility  of  suspicidn  hi  the 
minds  of  the  uninitiated.  Let  us  rath- 
er, with  tlie  boldness  of  cottscious 
rectitude  and  teal  for  our  cause,  repel 
the  intimation,  and  declare,  that  if 
our  society  prodkice  any  political  ef- 
fects, they  eannot  but  be  of  a  salutary 
nature,  by  conciliating  prejudices, 
subduing  the  passions,  and  mdlifying 
opposition;  that  as  it  b  intimately 
connected  with,  and  happily  calcula- 
ted to  protnote  philanthropy  and  pat- 
riotism, it  mtist  tend,  as  far  as  it  has 
influence,  to  preserve  peace;  or  allay 
the  ferocities  of  war,  mitigating, 
where  it  cannot  avert  its  calamities ; 
to  soften,  if  it  cannot  eradicate  tbe  rl- 
valships  of  party,  and  the  hostitittes 
"f  faction;  to  guard  against  the  pre- 
dominance of  local  feelings,  by  the 
cultivation  of  more  liberal  sentiments; 
to  multiply  the  good  oflices  o»  person- 
al intercourse  \  to  extend  the  connec- 
tion^  of  friendship;  and  kindle  the 
sympathies  of  individual  attachment* 
intothe  enlarged  Mlowabipof country. 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


ff4  aftuaim* 


tbegbi!3iiQf<f«Btii 


rcMBilnff  nwud  «traiigliet 
•ri«t«nii  «i^M»oli#B  betwen  ike 

epiMa(M; 


^omwry 


Clfflf  our  CMMMf 

mnm  of  famiil  pftadi—  i 

of  friep4iUp,  iittriociMi)  ani  pbilwi- 
ibfopjf;  wnI  brighlraiiif,  wInIiC  we 
•irengUMiiy  tiM  cIumi  oC  wm  mMoa.* 
b  iMi  M  evtiit  we  thMki  ^lier 


ayetvd  a*  M  ill  vkatM  to  tko^e  pM^ 
ledgtfy  who  nay  apt  i«c«ive  lUs  coflH 
mnrieatm  b  0«asgw  lo  act «pwii 
M»  year,  al  tlieir  tlalaA  i 
...  appoiatdekgatflaloaiseada 
die  I  oMveotioa  whkk  aiay  be  i 
befe  <ia  dtt.  Brit  MoMhwaf  J 
182{^  or  10  wtpnmA  ttm^  al  dM 
mtm  (Him  aad  piace,  ia  a 
^rand  lodge,  in  tbe  eiwal  a(  'm 


nr  a  All  wbiciiii  rat|Mi 
fiUlioo^  Ih^l  (he  aiUer  chorda  night  1 1^  your  afiKlioaale  I 
«averbetpQtad,aorthegoUeahowl       bthe  naaieyaMl 


All  whichii  nt^^ttMOf  iMhaiiMid^ 


la  ooachnieni  we  wiU  oaly  add. 
that  ia  ear  opittM,(he  progrefiof 
lioM  and  iayrovaawadi  wkh  tbe  oe- 
cewity  af  a  Mpenrieory  poweri  ia* 
oeasMg  in  a  geoaietricat  ratto^  tD 
the  asleaMoii  af  oar  ifumhen  aod  di«- 
tpnce  firom  each  other,  win  beiareto 
reallae  the  plaa  of  a  general  orgaaiaa- 
tion  for  the  dmsooic  fraleraity  ^  aad 
Ifaat  the  only  4a>iatiim  for  oe  to  de> 
cide,  k,  whether  (be  oredk  aad  ad- 
▼aniage  of  aoch  a  work  ahall  be 
acbievad  by  at,  or  be  reserved  for  oar 
chUdrea*  We  are  further  ioduced 
eooAdeaily  la  believe,  froai  oAcial 
comiaaaieotioai  hitherto  traasmitted 
tlor  seeeral  of  the  graad  lodges,  that 
o  auflldeiit  aaaiber  wiU  be  represeal^ 
od  here  theaeH  wfader  toauihoriae 
the  tastilatioa  of  a  meral  giaad 
lodge,  with  a  teatiat  kiraikiii;  aod 
our  chief  eeiigitade  Is,  thai  the  coa* 
ventioa  aiajp  awhraea  aa  oaaotoiaas 
feprcnalatioa  of  the  inaooaic  teier- 
aijy  ef  oof  eaaatiy,   Wewoaidabo 

^fMHag  pMvaptt  weuW'  heTe  e  grest- 

r  to  -•tieetUwa  itie  tlbkkk  of 

Id  add  to  tiie  OMCeleeai  of 


byonktvof  the 
GEO.  B.  RICHARDS. 


3b  lAe  Eikor  ff  iU 

Sim, 

In  *e  eccowd  BMiher  of  the 
•eoood  volaaM  of  year  <<  MaMMHcfta* 
gialer"  1  noliced  a  couwmikatloa 
signed  ^'New^York,"  which  g<M»to 
disproee  entirely^  the  proprk?^  ef 
the  practice  oi  puhnntng  espwieioai 
from  the  masenic  eaclm.  Is  the 
poblkatton  lo  which  I  alfakb,  it  is 
deemed  <«libelians,  and  disgraoefoL'^ 
High  tetwm  >heee,  Shr,  aad  I  \ 
not  to  say^  ahsohisely  \ 
NeidMf  rawon  ne 
justify  that  oonohision.' 
asu^aad  shall  I  be  dsenwd  gaUty  ef 
libdy  scandal,  aad  the  hfce  higw  mis* 
eeanse  I  pobik^  an* 
tfaeMneola  villain?  leal 
upon  those  whoarewiHiag  to  screen 
such  characters  Urom  the  pumshmem 
due  to  their  crkaes, for  answer.  Asa 
proof  of  die  ooRectnese  of  his  wsws, 
Uk  wwtersooulwaif  ^i  ^ 


■M^nnrtthso  ibt  MtsU^  ^  ilefoctsror  foihois^  iheir  o^ 

Ib  Vvfious  part*  of  oar  cottntrt,  for  th«    ^„ /..  _  ^^„  g:_^_i>^- ' 

odactfkMi  of  the  orpbmns  of  decoMed  B  y  t»at»pcting  diwr  aacksMmg  mm-^ 
btotliw»,ead  the  cmdtee  of  tifcote  whoee  |  bofi  to  die  wwrld?**  A^mitdmtdMr 
ebneMrtroon  wmild  eot  BteH  of  the  I  do  not,  aod  what  thewf  daesHlbt* 
hmsI  oMeet  of  iastraetion.  *  'fhroegli  the  I  lour  ny  ^  mattsr  of  oanrssw  that  the 
Si€itu  of  a  ceoeral  grand  lodgp,  mch  an  D  -^ZL--^  .,,^1^,  l^-^  ^-T^t k.  ^ii^ 
iMhetlon  mlglit  be  ettablished;  and  easi-  D  "f^"^  .^^^^^^J**^  ^  ^  f'^ 
nfMippeftMr:  aMiHi  branches  ettended  R  "gh^  ^  do  so  ?  We  off  know,  tfuit  a 

tfrsitiaii»ofstirisen»|.-^jBd>iinLJh^lmeasber  of  omt  bod^f  osay^oftndia 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


meii  a  »9an0r  as  iMl  to  to  <iitoover^  ll 
64  by  those  wfao'we  oMcquaifited 
ii^  tiie  mymnim  of  frcq>Mowy> 
Nay,  M  Buiy  find  amui  to  be  tcNally 
itoitkgte  ii£  ni#Ml  ^ritftoiple,  ivhea  at 
Ibe  laaie  tiM»ibe«0i7fsU4illrfff«^na9f 
iMuider  htm  as  poasesting  a  tolera^ 
UyftkflbafaMer.  MI'iniereaCiaajr 
]pron^  Uai  toad  appareatly  upright 
mad  i«8l  la  hm  ^Miofs  wttb  hia  leh 
loir  met^i  bgt  a  time  #iiiy  cone,  wbiia 
tbe  aaaM  aalf  laterast  wiil  ditoover 
kiMi  to  be  of  ^  the  faaaer  ton.''  la 
auch  catee,  they  who  first  otake  the 
discoTery,  sboold  lose  no  time  in  giv- 
iog  It  publictty^  and  if  at  any  tiaM^  it 
aMold  fall  to  the  lot  of  a  portion  of 
the  masonic  bo^y^to  expel  one  of  ks 
Dumber,  for  base  conduct,  a^  due  re- 
yard  lor  the  welfare  of  cominuoity, 
would  require  that  it  should  be  made 
public  Vimam09  Sfte  entitM  to  a 
Icnowledge  of  his  character,  in  order 
thnt  tbey  may  be  truly  gbmled,  the 
same  necessity  requires,  that  every 
indhridual  in  society,  who  may  faere- 
afler  stand  exposed  to  bis^iriefced  de- 
atgi%  abouhl  also  be  aequailf  d  with 
it*  I  must  confess,  sir^tbat  the  objec- 
tions raised  acainst  publishing  the 
names  of  expelled  members,  appeaf 
to  meto  be  weak,  and  fritoloMi,  abd 
jtimMi  chkiy  ia  motifves  of  iUse 
UeUoMy.  Sboi4d  we  throw  a  veil 
over  the  name  or  character  of  a  felon, 
because  peradventure  the  publishing 
it  might  injtirs  the  £^ngs  of  his 
Meads?  Jtf  tbb  wesa a  snAakttt  ob- 
jaclkMv  why  do  toasts  «f  jastkaaUow 
their  proceedings  to  be  given  to  the 
world?  Simply  for  this  reason,  be- 
cmuejuOice  requirti  it.  Itisacpm- 
«on  thhig  to  see  ^  naMS  of  ^aW 
pnts  oasM^  «iik  the  htfosasatiaa  ab- 
neaed,  that  they  were  <^  of  respectable 
families,^'  The  practice  is  no  doubt 
a  good  one,  as  it  serves  in  h  most 
striking  maimer,  to  show  the  <^l^- 
ence  between  wbil  they  atrtf  aad 
lAaiiimfmtkilmmbeen. 

I  caaaot  admit  with  the  <<New- 
York^^  writo*,  that  it  *^  operates  in- 
juriously to  the  order,  by  bddhig  oat 


MAsomc.  tfb 

to  thetminillitedl^  *eteimMr«toil»> 
^HinConal  ordeal,  aad  eseott«ranica« 
tioa,^^''  Who  that  ever  had  so- 
rioiis  thoaghts  oi  beeamiag  a  tn«fl»- 
ber  of  the  mmm^c  body,  has  reasose 
ed  thas  wttb  htftiself  against  it  ?  I  tirHI 
not  associate  o^selfaathlhisaoeietyi 
however  taifpoietabie  -h  asay  be,  ba* 
caase  I  mi§k^  ^patthaaoa,  eommlt 
sonM  dUgrme^if  meked-aei^M^d  as 
a  natnral  caasBqaoaoe,  be  ekpelled. 
Ia  addition  to  this^  they  aught  jmftftift 
my  eipalsiaa,  and  mm  every  oae 
WM^d  ^iiMAr  that  I  waaabadflMUh 
It  tie  a  fact,gefieraMy  knoam^  ttot  the 
masoaic  iHoily  are  remarkable  lor 
the  eaercise  tif  tkarUf^  aad  causa* 
qiiantly,that  aspobiOA  is  oaly  resort- 
ed to,  whan  eaeryaseaia  of  reeiaiaip 
uigahiaiber  have  fan vediaeftcttiaL 
Whea  a  aiasao  ia  Ibuod  to  beabsa- 
hitely  depraved,  aad  iksif  to  the  vfiea 
mi  admosatiao  alMi  reproof^  k  is  a  4% 
^  that  we  awe  to  ottiaelves,ai  well 
aatasocle^,to  let  the  worM  know 
that  we  hflid  aa  aKm  comaiaaion  or 
leUow^iifi  with  him;  aad  ia^w  way 
caa  this  be  daae  ao  eJBectaaUy  as  by 
pMisMngit.  Iaihras(iiither^aadwi 
a  tratb  with  wMA  I  am  well  atf- 
4|«alnted,  tbM  nidess  -eapulsioBs  are 
■mde  paUic,  the  repaMioa  of  the 
cta(]|wiH  be  iafasit  danger  of  bein^ 
debased  bjr  having  its  eharaater  arijr* 
ed  wiik  those  wUeb  are  aateriouriy 
bad.  I  aas  far  jHtfsaiag  a  straight  kr* 
ward  caotfae^  and  however  denraUe 
it  tlmj  be  to  spaira  the  icdiogs  of  ia- 
<6vidaalsy  I  by  no  meun  think  that  a 
aioi  paiat  mi  dtHemj  shaaldi  ar  can 
weigh  sabeenfully  against  the  geaa- 
ral  taod  wMbh  waaM  naalt  tcm 
''pMMug  Ue  mmm  of  aipsUad 
bi^daaai'' 

UPPER  CANAD^ 


i^exiagton,  (Ky.)  Jon6^  188^. 
VALKPiCtORT. 
We  have  thus  ccMnpleted  the  se- 
cond^ and  we  regret  to  add,  the  ^.ast 
vohwe  of  ii»  Itetamc  Mi^eetttmg. 

.    Digitized  by  VJ.OOQIC 


r6 

WeharesMj^giedlitrdtokeepaKtei     TosttckofourMemlsvs  nayfifff 

bedi«pMed  to  pKtroolse  m  wofk  of 
this  klai^  we  cbeerftilly  and  coai- 
deiuly  recommeiid  the  ^Mkuum^ 
RegUfttr  oMd  Utdiet^  emd  QtM^ 
mm*%  Magaxmej^  poUbhed  «t  fieir^ 
York,  by  compftiuoii  Luther  Ihnttf 
and  the  <<  Mmmmc  (knk^y^  poMish- 
ed  at  EnMd,  Neir^Bamp^tre,  bj 
companioQ  Ebraexer  Chase,  the  ftir- 
mer  at  three,  and  the  latter  at  fvo 
dollars  a  year,  eastern  OBrremy,  liar 
ekherof  whh#we  irlU  receive  nod 
^^rward  subscriptions. 

*  Each  volume  of  (his  valuable  work 
contains  192  pagvs.  A  voleme  of  tbe 
Masonio  Regrister  oontsuns  480  pages. 


this  litde  reposiMy  of 
Hgence,  asasonic  principles,  and  m- 
eral  literature,  but  we  are  compelled 
at  length,  to  surrender  it  to  its  inerit- 
abie  fate.  The  list  of  punctual  pa^ 
ing  sabscrtbers  is  far  too  shimI  to 
austaitt  the  expenses  of  the  wark^  mad 
those  arbo  have  been  dbpoaed  to  pal- 
ronise  us  with  thdr  naaies  without 
the  addition  of  any  pecuniary  support^ 
have  been  moch  more  nomerons  than 
we  either  expected  or  desh»d.  Had 
onr  pages  been  exckisiva^y  occupied 
by  our  own  productions,  we  sbauM 
have  attributed  our  fathire-to  our  own 
ineiiciency ;  but  having  so  extensive 
a  field  for  seleetkw,  and  having  laid 
under  contiibuiion,  wit,  ahiquence, 
and  leamiag,  we  are  couMeot  of 
the'merit  and  kilerasi  of  our  mis- 
eenany,and  regret  the  neeassityof 
discontinuing  its  pabKuation.  The 
opinion  expressed  at  the  ctnnmenoe- 
ment  of  our  career,  that  such  a  work 
is  cateulkted  to  be  emlaentlyuseM 
to  the  Iratemlty,  has  been  strengthen- 
ed apd  confirmed  by  experience ;  and 
we  have  had  the  satisfaction  of  learn- 
ing from  several  qvarters  that  the 
valne  of  this  publication  has  been 
highly  appreciated,  and  geneialfy  ac- 
knowledged. These,  however,  who 
have  been  most  strongly  convnioed  of 
iu  importance,  have  not  always  been 
the  most  lealoos  hi  its  support,  and 
many  have  foond  it  much  eanerto 
commend  our  exertions,  and  wish  as 
success,  than  to  give  us  their  snbstan- 
>tjal  patronage,  or  to  use  any  eibits 
-for  the  increase  of  our  subscHptioB. 
Fortunately  for  omr  sublime  and  glo- 
rious insiitntlon,  it  is  dcsthied  to 
flourish  and  increase,  notwithstandh^ 
the  lukewarmness  of  iU  profened 
friends,  and  the  unmasonic  deport- 
itaient  of  many  of  its  votaries.  Fort- 
unately too,  it  requires  not  our  feeble 
exertions  to  give  it*  stability,  or  to 
^ia  for  it  the  respect  and  esteem 
^  which  it  deservesi  Masonry  will  con- 
tinue, not  only  to  stand  firm,  but  to 
acquire  additional  Hrengthy  and  to 
dbplay  mcreesed  wisdom  and  beautv.  f 
tmtil « time,  shall  be  no  more.' 


Mrftfmn^^ 


PtckeesJuvemkSpeUmgBooL^ 
An  improved  edition  of  this  work  has 
htety  made  Its  appearance;  and  aal- 
wtthstandiiig  it  has  her^ek^bre  been 
acknowledged,  by  competent  judges, 
as  the  best  elementary  book  ever 
piddisbedin  AfiMrica;  add  hat  been 
geneftUy  introduced  mto  onr  most 
respectable  schools,  as  a  book  better 
calculated  to  elicit  improvement  than 
any  other  extant^  yet  we  hesitate  not 
to  give  it  as  onr  InmiWe  opiaiony 
which  we  are  happy  to  find  is  in  co- 
incidence with  many  of  our  most  jn- 
dioions  instrt^ctom,  that  tn  this  edition, 
the  author  has  added  much  to  itt 
worth,  particularly  in  Ins  classifica- 
tion or  synonymous  wonis,  by  which 
the  pupil  will  learn  their  correspond- 
mg  defioitioos  ait  first  aght,^and  be 
tat^ht  their  variouB  uses,  witbont  As 
laborious  task  of  tt^mng  over  the  pi- 
ges  of  a  dictionary.    Tbe  append 
annexed  to  this  edition,  also  greatly 
enhances  its  vabe,  and  renders  It  la 


LITBUUlT. 

et€fy  respect,  a  most  «t^abte  bo«k 
for  the  use  of  Sunday  schools,  as  wctt 
»«Hhi>»i  it  cootaUikif  »  pWft  aad 
brief  sumowry  of  the  Chri^an  reli- 
gion, drawn  from  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
calculated  to  impress  the  youthful 
min*  with  the  importance  of  the 
truths  therein  contained,  and  induce 
to  a  deeper  research.  The  reading 
losons  throughout,  are  arranged  in 
th«  roost  judicious  manner,  appropri- 
ately interspersed  among  the  ?pelUog 
lessons,  in  language  suited  to  the  ca- 
pacities of  those  for  whom  they  are 
designed,  and  calculated  to  Inspire  the 
pupil  with  a  love  of  all  the  social 
virtues,  and  a  reverence  for  the  reli- 
gion of  the  Redeemer. 

Much  more  might  be  said  in  favour 
of  this  little  mamml,  but  we  conceive 
it  unnecessary.  The  author  is  well 
known  ibr  bi&  unwearied  aHentioo  to 
the  instruction  of  youth,  which  he  has 
practised  in  the  city  of  New- York, 
with  unrivalled  success^  for  the  space 
of  about  twenty  years. 


277 
beaefit  to  our  own  children,  un^ 
der  bis  toHion.  He  claims  not  the 
power  ofmagie  hi  his  system,  nor  does 
he  pretend  that  a  good  penman  can  be 
made  oat  of  a  complete  blockhead,  in 
the  course  of  a  few  leesons;  but  bis 
system  is  sucb,  titat  aH  who  are  onpa- 
ble  of  appreciating  the  importance  of 
writing,  can  acquire  it  in  much  less 
time;,  and  at  smaller  eipeuse,  than  by 
pufsuing  the  oW  <*  beaten  track."  The 
fi>Wowing  certificate,  predttdea  the  use 
of  OUT  say  hig  more  on  the  subject. 


Netc-Yorky  Sept  9, 182S. 

In  the  opinion  of  the  subscribers, 

teachers  in  tlie  city  of  New- York,  Mr. 

William  Chirk,  Jmi'»  «  Guide  to  Pen- 

maaship,"   reeearty  p«Wished,  with 

the  addition  of  his  lectures,  is  the  beit 

system  extant,  from  which  to  acquire 

a"^ correct,  free,  easr,  and  elegant  hand 

writinjr;  and  his  method  of  mstruction 

preferable  to  any  other  that  hns  come 

i  within  our  observation,  to  facilitate  the 

( improvement  of  persons  of  all  ag^s,  in 

that  useful  art. 


Ckxric^B  Guide  to  Ttnmmsltip.— 
This  work  is  the  result  of  the  author's 
experience  ia  teaching,  for  upwards 
of  twelve  yeaisf  and  we  consider  it 
richly  deserves  the  approbation  so 
liberally  bestowed  on  it  by  \ariou$ 
teachers  in  the  city  of  New-York. 
He  has  happily  oombiaed  his  rales 
in  a  small  compass,  and  rendered 
them  plain,  and  easy  to  be  aonspre- 
bended ;  so  that  the  learaer,  wM  due 
attention,  cani  in  a  short  time,  become 
masteroftheimpoiiaatart.  We  more 
cheerfully  recommend  it  to  the  no- 
6ce  of  the  public,  having  been  for 


with  Mr.  Clark,  and  having  derived 


Edward  James,    M.  Hale, 
Joseph  McKecn,  L.  S.  Lownsbury, 

L.  Kidder, 

S.  Flint, 
Law.  Anderson. 
Daniel  French, 
James  B.  Req^, 
James  Shea, 
Horace  Covell, 


M.  Mead, 

James  6.  Quick, 

A*  Newton, 

U.  E.  Wheeler, 

Elijah  Ashley, 

John  M.  Kinley, 

David  Field, 

Thomas  Wilson,  Jonathan  Taft, 

C.  M.  Gahagan,    B.  McGowan, 


R.  Lockwood, 
Seabury  Ely, 
Joseph  Carter, 
J.  Ward, 
J.  iL  Smiib| . 


SaufordR.Knapp, 
John  Gould,  Jun. 
&  Willtamst 
Rev.  J.  Dick, 
John  Patterson,  Jun. 


Tile  New  Jenuakm  Missionary, 
and InteUecitial  Repontory.— This  is 
a  monthly  >lagarine,  recently  estab- 
lished in  this  city.    Its  design  appears 


many   years    iotiroatuly  acqoalntwi^  to  be  exclusively  to  explain,  propagate, 


and  support,  the  theological  doctrines 


278 

of  Emanuel  SwmkfAorg. 


Eadivm-lieeiire  tlie.JMinr«r,4iU  s«ch 


ber  conuins  forty  octavo  pages,  nfi9ilif 
printed,  on  good  paper,  huoidMom$fy 
dune  lip  in  a  printed  coloured  cover, 
at  three  dollars  a  year.  Aa  it  it  not 
our  provtDca  to  advocate,  or  coadenui  B 
any  Ciiristiaii  sect  eJDchaively,  but  to 
have  charity  lor  aU  wfaofe  lives  corres- 
pond wftb  the  precepta  contained  in 
the  Ho^  Scfipioies,  we  shall  not  pre- 
tend to  give  an  opkiiOD  as  to  the  merits, 
or  demertu  of  its  fMriaciples*  That  the 
vork  will  be  ably  and  tngentoasly 
conducted,  the  public  will  be  satisfied, 
wht*n  they  are  toforroed  that  it  is  edited  I 
by  Samuel  Woooworth,  Esq.  author  I 
<^  the  numbers  which  appear  in  the  | 
Maaonic  Register,  eaiided  the  ^^Ghris* 
tiaa  MasoA.'^ 


The  New-Tork  Mirror'^  and  Ladiet^ 
Literary  G«2£/te.*-This  is  a  weekly 
^)aper,  published  every  Saturday,  by 
Mr.  Geoege  P/  JVIorris,  No.  214, 
Broadway,  and  edited  by  Samuel 
WooDwORTH,  Esq.  Each  number 
contains  eight  royal  quarto  pages, 
and  will  make  a^ handsome  volume  of 
^our  hundred  and* sixteen  pages  at  tlie 
Olid  of  the  year,  at  the  very  low  price 
of  four  dollars,  printed  in  a  superior 
style,  by  Mr.  J.  Seywumr.  Its  con- 
tf  iits  are,  original  moral  tales,  Ameri- 
can biogrnp|iy,  poetry,  literary  intelli- 
geuoe,  &c-  &c  The  editor  of  the 
jNlirror  most  assaredly  deserves  weU  of 
the  literary  world,  and  we  heartily 
wish  him  that  success  to  whtth  he  is 
justly  entitled. 

We  are  authorised  to  state,  that 
those  ladies  or  gentlemen  who  have 
advanced  money  for  tiie  «  Ladies'  Lit- 
erary Casket,"  and  have  not  received 
that  work  to  the  full  amount^  shall  re- 


are  Mqnidated. 


W^wttn< 


MASONIC  ODE. 

Unto  thee,  great  God,  belong 
Myotic  riles,  eod  wmd  soog^l 
Slawlv  bending  Al  thy  throne* 
We  adore  thee,  Holv  One ! 
GlorioM  Architect  ebeve, 
Soairce  ef  light,  end  tocrrce  of  love. 
Here  thy  li^t  and  love  preveil. 
Hail,  AUai^y  MaMer,  hiM. 


Whflst  iu  yonder  regioiis  br^fat* 
Sun  and  moon  diffuse  their  li^ht* 
Twinkling  slars  ipread  o*er  (be  dky» 
Blason  forth  thy  praise  oh  Iiigfa ! 
Join,  O  earth,  ih6  as  yoe  rotl 
Roondlh*  expanse,  irom  pole  to  polt, 
Send  to  Heaven  your  graiefid  la^B, 
^oia  the  uoiverMapraiMt 

Wanned  bythvlieAsgnaBt  grsce, 
FrieiMMiTi)  tiak'd  the  hamaa  race ; 
Pity  lodg'd  within  her  hreaat. 
Charity  hocame  her  guest ; 
llere,  the  eaked>  miaieet  foaad ; 
Sicicoess,  balaan  for  her  wound ; 
Sorrow, comfort;  hunger, bread ; 
Straogera  toe»  a  wekrooie  dbed ! 

Still  to  us,  O  God,  dispense 
Thy  divine  benevolMica ! 
Teach  the  tender  tear  lo  flow. 
Melting  at  anolteiii  WO ! 
Lilce  S»maria'S8on9  that  we 
Bie&s'd  with  boundless  charity, 
To  th*  admiring  weiM  anay  prove, 
Ua|)f)y  thc^  who  ^eiJ  ia  love. 


CASH. 

»r  WfLUAV  JUTyES^. 

Wise  anoraltstsin  vain  have  told 
How  sordid  Is  the  love  of  goM, 

Whieh  they  eaU  ftkhy  iresh ; 
Thou  stranger  to  these  eyes  of  awne. 
Ten  thousand  virtues  still  are  tUaey 

ThouallfllfMeatCaSk 

Tbott^  thy  HMriafk  wei^  it  sm^ 
Yet  MONBT,  thou  art  all  in  all — 

Though  transient  as  a  flaili, 
!■  pMBing  JiMt  fttMB  hand  to  haod, 
The  earth  is  at  thy  sole  comnaad— 

It  gravitates  to  Cnih. 

Possessed  of  thee,  we  may  deff, 

IVot  death  iMf,  hot  veiy  oich* 

For  when  the  tyrMl%  hdk 

digitized  by  VjOOQ IC 


POETlCft. 


279 


H  fH¥,»ii4  all }  'Ufm  Ui  b]Ni», 
ft  </£i— it  will  the  vassal  free — 
Theu  w^o  de^piws  Cmsft. 

By  nature  void  of  every  grace, 

II  thoa  hast,  f  toadca* !  view  thy  face) 

But  this  cosmetic  wash,  t 

Twill  whiteo  and  improve  the  skin — 
Thy  moMtrom  nose — thv  cheeks  and  chte, 

Are  beautified  by  CaA. 

And  though  yoar  mental  powers  be  weaki 
To  you  WBo  flMMiey  have»  I  speaisy 

Go  on — thave— cut  and  sbsh ; 
For  men  of  genius  and  of  sense^ 
If  jvoer,  will  make  a  peer  dcfencei 

Against  the  man  of  Cath, 

Or  should  you,  for  the  basest  crimes. 
Become  indicted  fifty  times, 

This  settles  all  the  hash ; 
For  bills  which  leave  the  poornobope, 
X*  escape  the  dungeon^  or  the  rope. 

Are  cancelled  by  Ceuh. 

Nfty,  *twai  be  fmindtlMt  mowiv  can 
The  grovMing  beaat  traneform  to  man, 

TUn;igh  different  natures  clash : 
For  tis  tofaet'^eyondiliMle^ 
The  miter's  far  beneath  the  brute— 

A  lump  of  living  Ouk, 

And  yet  whnt  erowdt  arovad  him  waif- 
Behold  him  cloth'd  in  power  and  state— 

The  garter,  star  and  sash ; 
FooU  fly  be^Ke  the  p<nent  nod 
Of  him  whose  fleehi  whose  soul,  whose  god, 

Whose  heaven  itself  is— Cos^ 


A  wonNiti*t4ove  is  like  tberock    , 

That  every  tempest  braves. 
And  stands  secure  amid  the  shock, 

Of  eoeesi's  fMMt  wavee ; 
And  blest  is  he  to  whom  repose 

Within  its  shade  1»  given ; 
The  world  with  all  its  caret  and  woes, 

Seems  less  Uke  e^rlh  thM  heaven. 


WOUAX. 

Away,  away— yoa*n  all  the  same, 
A  flntlering>  smttingf  jilting  throng  ! 

Oh  1  by  my  soul,  I  burn  with  »hame. 
To  thiuk  I*ve  beea  yoor  slave  so  long  [ 


But  s9Bs.of  Plittas !  lest  ye  go 
To  those  inlemal  wtmu  below. 

Where  teeth  are  said  to  gnasb-^ 
Give  to  the  oMly— brR)e  tne  gmve^^ 
Qbf  if  3nau  wlbh  yosr  eoob  to  nve, 

Bm  QMUtMOva  of  roea  CASH. 


A  woiMm*s  love,  deep  kl  the  heart, 

Is  like  the  vioM  flow«r. 
That  lifts  ite  modest  bead  apart 

f  n  some  sequesterM  bower ; 
And  blest  is  be  who  finds  that  btoooi^ 

Who  tips  lu jMBtle  swMts : 
Be  heeds  not  me*s  oppressive  glooB, 

Nor  ail  the  care  he  neett! 

A  woina»*t  kiv^St  tike  the  epchig 

Amid  the  wild  alone, 
A  homing  wlkl,  o'er  whieh  the  wing 

Of  dowly  it  teldom  thrown ; 
^d  blesf  U  he  who  meets  thi^  founts 

Beneath  the  sultry  day ; 
Bowi^y  thoeUrhistpirllt  mmI! 

How  pleasant  b«  hi»  ir«y ! 


Slow  to  be  wam'd,  and  quick  to  rove^ 
From  folly  kind,  from  cunning  loath, 

Too  cold  for  Miss,  too  weak  for  love. 
Yet  feigning  aU  that's  best  Ml  both> 

Still  panting  o*er  a  orowd  to  relgn» 
More  joy  pt  ^vet  to  wooMo^  bra  est 

To  make  ten  fngid  coicooabs  vain, 
Than  one  true,  maaly,  lover  blest. 


Away,  away— your  tmile*s  a 
Ob  !  blot  me  from  the  race  of  men. 

Kind  Dttying  Hoaven !  by  death  or 
Beiore  1  love  tueh  things  again ! 


WOAiAK. 

BY  WILLIAM  BAY,  BSq. 

When  man  bad  doom'd  himself  to  woes— 
Q     Woes  that  Cor  ever  had  undone  him, 
And  God  in  UTathfnl  vengeance  rose 

To  eiecttte  his  sentence  on  him. 
The  burning  ire  of  opening  hell 
fiicst  fofui,  and  flames  were  kindling 
round  himi 
But  angels'  tears  in  torrents  fell. 
And  quench'd  those  flames  where  Jnt- 
tice  bound  him. 

For  theb'  own  likeness,  by  his  side. 

In  alt  the  loveliness  of  beaotjr. 
They  saw— his  new  created  bn(|% 

Still  chaste,  ^ongb  wander'd  from  h«r 
doty ; 
They  saw  thtl  mercy,  too^  was  mov'd— 

Prostrate  in  earnest  intercession ; 
Of  all  heaven's  host  the  weQ  belov'd, 

Self-ofllhr'd  up  for  man*»tranj|^«s8iOB. 

An4  though  man's  woes  and  mb'ries,  all, 
Are  chitfg'd  on  wooun,  who  ador*!!  him; 

tf  ssMMOi  lempledawuito&y, 
'Twas  MMMlnn's  pcomis'd  seed  reelor'd 

^^-         Digitized  by  Google 


2fiO 


POETICAL. 


O !  WoMA  V !  wttte  11  not  for  thee, 
With  all  tiiy  frmtlties  stUI  about  ihet, 

Tfiis  tr^rld  ikt  verittt  ktU  %oo\Ud  hc^ 
And  heaven  iUelfm  Aeaneji  without  </(€«. 


THE  CHURCH. 

Br  WILI44M  RAT|    "Kt^.       f^ 

Pure  and  holy  L»  the  source, 
Whence  thy  stream,  O  Zion,  rosfi; 

See  majestic  in  its  course,  . 
Regions  vast  U  overHoivt , 

Fertifljring,  Itkc  the  NHe, 

Barren  continent  and  isle* 

Angel-ministcrs  attend — 
On  its  ilow'ry  margins  meet — 

Henveniy-choral  antlieflis  bleodi 
(Music  ravishing^y  sweet) 

With  a  Saviour's  voice  divine, 

Xunifng  aH  its  floods  to  wim*. 

Ho,  ye  thirstv,  gather  ironnd, 
Drinic  your  everlasting  fill ! 

Hear  xSxrt  gospel  tidings  Hound — 
**  Peaet  on  trnttht  Lenten  g9od  wHl  /" 

Yet  onbroicen  i;i  the  strain, 

Heard  upon  the  sbepherd's  plain. 

Christ,  the  Bishop  of  onr  souls, 
Open  will  the  cliannet  Iccep ; 

Free  the  tide  of  mercy  rolls, 
As  the  billows  of  tho  deep ; 

Broad  vtnd  copious  as  the  wave, 

In  the  mission  that  he  gave: 

"  Ev*ry  creature  go  and  teach, 

Vou  1  send  as  I  am  sent, 
Wide  onlained  ray  word  to  preach, 

Calling  millions  to  repent — 
This  nnintemqited  line 
ShaU  be  enei^of— is  divine/' 

Lo  the  Church  of  Christ  appears 
Fair  in  bntre  as  the  moon  ! 

Brighter,  from  the  niglit  of  years, 
Than  the  cloudless  sun  at  n<>on— 

Terribly  she  moves  along, 

As  an  arroy-banner'd  throng ! 

Life  dispensing  as  she  spes, 

Glory  beatniog  from  iier  face, 
Conquering  her  rebellions  foes, 

By  the  power  of  boundless  grace- 
By  the  Spirit's  two-edg*d  sword — 
Through  the  mi^'ht  of  Christ  our  Lord. 


MAXIM. — II  18  a  painfull  but  well 
knowQ  fact)  that  tlie  eavy  and  rivak> 
•hip  of  newt  relatioin,  is  the  most  bil- 
ter  and  iuveterate. 


TO  THE  MEMORY 

or 

Mary  Yaies  Hatdi  Prait, 

whose  immortal  spirit  to»k  kfi 
flight,  on  the  Ibirtccotli  day 
of  May,  A.  D.  1833,  m 
the  fourth  year  o( 
Iter  ago. 
She  was  the  youngest  child  oC  ' 
Luthar  Pratt,  editor  of  the  Ma- 
sonic Register. 

Alas!  dear  child,  thy  spirit's  fled, 
**  Too  good  wcrt  thou  iu  this  vUe 

world  to  stay, 
**  Wbeea  nought  but  sin  and  tor- 
row  reign  triumphant  ^ 


<«  Suffer   little  children    to  . 
come  uuto  me,  and  forbid  them  ^ 
not ;  for  of  such  is  the  kingdom 
U  of  God." 


t 


)S. 


TO  RETAttr.RS  AND  COIIRESP02«l>C1ITS. 

To  make  room  (or  the  interestinf 
Biographical  Sketches  of  aH  the  pris- 
cipal  cofnmanders  engaged  Ia  the  ex- 
isting war  between  Spain  and  France, 
we  are  obli<^l  to  omittlie  conttnaatioR 
in  this  number,  of  '*  Sophia,  or  the  Girl 
of  the  Pine  Woods,**  together  with  ser- 
eral  otl»er  misccTlaneons  Urtides  of  in- 
terest, which  shall  appear  in  our  next. 

J****m  is  premature.  It  is  Aot  our 
intention  to  interfere,  at  present^  with 
the  affairs  of  thr  frnuid  lodge  d  the 
state  of  NewwTork ;  and  &r  be  it  from 
us  to  '*  fan  the  embers'*  of  diseecd,  or 
to  blow  its  coals  into  a  ftame. 

"  A  Royal  Arch  Mason,"  wiH  please 
to  excuse  us*  in  tlie  rejootion  of  his 
communication,  Inasmnch  as  it  iufnn- 
gfes  upon  .several  of  the  riMWiLAAKsof 
the  chapter. 

"  Thespian,*  on  tlic  Park  Theatre, 
is  entirely  wMboot  interest  to  any  hut  a 
few  lorers  of  the  drama«  in  tl>e  city  of 
Kcw- York.  We  wish,  as  far  as  poss»»  ■ 
ble,  to  avoid  troahlinirjDur  distaul  rid- 
ers with  local  coacepi.        , 

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SUBSCRIBERS^  NAMES. 

NEW-YORK. 


Adams,  John 
Anderton,  John 
Andrews,  Phineas 
Allen,  Cornelius  M. 
Allair,  James  D. 
Ashley,  Olirer  P. 
Amell,  John 
Allen,  John 
Aeklcy,  Daniel 
Baldwin,  Charles  N. 
Burns,  Williani 
Byrne,  Charles 
Bell,  Archibald 
Bacon,  Caleb 
Banker,  Mrs. 
Bates,  John  H. 
Bamett,  Samnel  A. 
Barretto,  Francis 
Bonsali,  A.  F. 
Becanon,  Philip 
Blydenbargh,  Samoi^ 
Bums,  Hannah 
Belamy,  EdWard  S. 
Brown,  John  B. 
Bossing,  Thomas 
Brady,  John 
Bryant,  Martin 

Bcndamagel,  Jacob 

Berk,  A. 

Bogert,  Comelina 

Boyden,  Bernard 

Batman,  Asa 

Blanke,  S. 

Ihnan,  Ephraim' 

Bockmaster,  George 

Byrnes,  — 

Bagley,  Tmman  F. 

Barnard  S. 

Bnllcrd,  Abel 

Bayley,  Timothy 

Bryan,  J.  B. 

Brewster,  Edward  W. 

Brewster,  Thomas  C. 

Brewer,  Polly 

Borland,  Charles,  Jnnr. 

Boeue,  Robert 

Bedford,  Andrew 

•Burgess,  John 

Baldwin,  William  . 

Baldwin,  George 

Bourdaile,  Wmiam 

Boyd,  James 

Coats,  John 

Chard,  Edward 

Crandel,  John 
Cochran,Bpbert 

jMurokf^otelius 
aarf^J.  *,  >- 

Chip,  Isaac 
CanQon,  Joseph  S. 


doe,  Williams. 
Ciark,  thomas 
Cooper,  George 
Chorch,  A.  S. 
Carmer,  Mr. 
Cardell,  William  S: 
Coleman.  William  H. 
Campbell)  William 
Carroll,  John 
Cnmmans,  P. 
Coffin,  Johtt 
Churohe,  Bodsef  S« 
Coi,  Richard 
Coscaden,  Alexander 
Camp,  Isaac  B. 
Coneens,  William  B. 
Coszens,  Daniel 
Cocsens,  T.  H. 
Covel,  EKai 
Comfort,  Hiram 
ColweU,  Caleb  C. 
Church,  AdonQak 
Clark,  Lewb 
Campibell,  DaTid 
Comelison,  A.  D. 
Coe,  Benjamin,  jun. 
ChUd,  Abel 
Couch,  Nash 
Conch,  Seth 
Cooley,  Robert 
Cooper,  Chauncey 
,  Colden,  Hibbard  A. 

Cnmmings,  John 

Crookshank,  A. 

Crist,  Jacob 

Carpenter,  Henry 

Case,  Hennr 

Cloneh,  John 

Cunningham*  Wesley 

Cassady,  D.  R. 

Cecil,  Francb 

Dodge,  Hosea 

Decker,  John  I. 

Dnkes,  James 

Ducachet,  H.  W. 

Diwer,  Aleiander 

Dempster,  I. 

Dunham,  H« 

Drake,  Lewis 

Drake,  Frederick 

Dubois,  Corneliuf 

Dnncarson,  Robert 

Degear,  Michael 

Duunine,  Thomas  H. 

Dean,  T. 

Danforth,^John  J. 

..AOMMtngJ^BOb,       V 

Dickenson,  Amos 
Evemghim,  Gilbert 
ErtfttsoD,  William 


f  errif ,  H.  1^. 
Fontayne  and  GracW 
Frater,  Donald 
Ferris,  CharleeG. 
Frazer,  John  C* 
Forbes,  John 
Pnoky  James  A. 
Forbes,  John 
Fountain,  H.  Km 
Fountain,  G. 
Farring^n,  Oliter 
Forbes.  William  I. 
Fairchild,  Talmad|;« 
Feeck,  Jacob 
Fanning,  William 
Grenard,  Nevingsoo 
Green,  John 
Gantier,  SanraelS. 
Graves,  Seth 
Gantz,  John  J. 
Green,  Elliot 
Gilbert,  Sylvester, 
Goldsmith,  Samuel 
Gonrg^,  John  J.  J« 
Garthwait,  Stephen 
Goff,  William 
Goff,  Russell 
Grant,  John,  Junr. 
Gregg,  Hugh 
Gorsllne,  R.  L. 
Gregory,  John  B. 
Giddins,  Edward 
Griffin^  Edward  M. 
Goodslare,  D. 
Gannon,  John 
Gregory,  Charies 
Griffin,  H* 
Godfrey^  Capt. 
Gordon,  Sixoon 
Holmes,  Peter 
Hampton,  William 
Hoit,  Ichabod 
Howatd,  George 
Hofiman,  Martin 
Hanly,  Edward 
Hallett,  William  P- 
Hoyt,  S.  S.  S. 
Hunt,  Samuel 
Hassey,  Henty  I. 
Hyer,  George  W, 
Hand,  I?aac  M, 
Hulse,  Amos 
^.  Ha2leton,  James 
Howard,  Jease. 


SOa$CII|B£RS'  NABIES. 


Horo,  €reof|^ 
ltorton,Mr. 
Humbert,  Jonas 
Haioes,  Cbarlef  G. 
Henrick,  Obaiies 
Hotchkiss,  Lemuel 
Hatniltoo,  William 
tlays,  N. 
HiU,  Charies  L 
Hart,  William  A. 
Halsej,  John 
Hannagan,  James 
Hunt,  Stephen 
Hodgson,  John 
Harrejr,  John  N, 
Hicks,  Jonathan  P. 
Hinman,  A,  G. 
Hoagfaton,  TheophHiu  L. 
Houghton,  AbHah  O. 
Hunt,  J.  G  G. 
Hart,  Stephen 
Irving.  William 
Jarris,  Zophcr 
Johnson,  Jacob 
Jameson,  James 
Johnson,  GuiUiam 
Johnson,  Daniel 
Jackson,  X^omas 
Jackson,  Nathan 
JairJs,  ^bert    '- 
Jaira,  D.  F. 
Jessup,  James 
Johnson,  James 
Jackson,  Stephen 
iollie,  Robert 
Jordon,  Simon 
Kim,  John  W. 
Ketchnm,  Stephen 
KortBrright,  Edmond 
Kilpatrick,  Joseph 
King,  Stephen 
Kerr,  Dm^oim 
King,  John 
Kna^p,  Erra  M. 
Kingsland,  Abraham 
Lansing,  Garrit        ; 
Labaw,  Jonathan 
Lampsop,  Paul 
Lowndeft,  Thonms 
Lowry,  Benjamin 
L^on,  Jaittes 
liiestner,  Christian 
Lyon,  Silas'  . 
Liott,  Abraham 
LeUuK),  Beilarmin 
Lupton,  feamuel     * 
Lordon,  I. 
Lester,  J.  M. 
^ake,  Heniy 
l^efferts,  Charies 
^Wood,  Henry  p. 


Lewis,  ESdad 
My^n,  James 
M^Farlan,  Hudson 
M'Farian,  Thomas 
M'Kinlev,  George 
M'Cready,  Thomas 
M'Qoeen,  Williani'M. 
M'DuffiM,  Daniel       ' 
MCoulm,  Archibald 
Moore,  Jared  L. 
Jtfarerick,  Samuel 
Morris,  William  L. 
MorrelfT. 
Moore,  James  A* 
Marshall,  John 
Monroe,  William 
Mead,  Nicholas 
Biilnor,  James  - 
MerchflLiit,  Aairon  M. 
Mead,  Lyman 
Marsh,  Henrj 
Moore,  Capt  • 
MaHbon,  Coleman 
Morrill,  John 
Mead,  James 
Metcalf,  JekQ 
Minthey,  Jc^n 
Morean,  Francis 
Mattin,  Henry,  Jonr. 
Mitchell, '  John  &      • 
Mix,  M.  P. 

NaTarro,  Israel 

Noble,  Samuel  F. 

Osman,  John 
Orutt,  Smith 

Oraai,  Jam'e| 

<MeU)  Stephen 

Ol>r)r,,Francb 

Palmerj  Aaron  H. 

Philips,  Charles 

PiaU,WilUamF. 

Plane,  Barthdooiew 

Peck,  Mr. 

PoUard,CalFin 

Peckwell,  H.  W. 

putt,  David 

Peck,  Benjamin  W. 

Perklm^,  Jeoks*.  . 

Pnrdy,  J.  W.. 

Phares,  Andrew 

Pratt,  Peter,  Jan. 

Pratt,  Moses 

Parsons,  S. 

Porter,  Levy 

Poling,  Charles 

Perry,  M.  C. 

Quirk,  WiUiam  C 

Beed,  Matthew    • 

Blley,  Edwaid 

Ripley,  Charies 

RofoedMn,  Dbvid 
BwaiMd,  Charies  : 
Rugrfes,  Herman 
Read,  A.  D. 


Rafi^as,  Lenrad  Wnatt 

Boberts,  Elyah  G. 

Baodal,'Roswdl 

Roeers,  John 

Richmond,  Thomss 

Rodgers,  GeernW. 
.  Schureman,  Williaa 

Slade,  Thomas 

Sickles,  Daniel 

Southard,  Heniy 

SSckels,  John  I. 

Smith,  John 

Serfeant,  Aaron 
V  Stafford,  Williaai 

Sitcher,  A 

Sboenuik^,  ^oha  I. 

Sands,  L. 

Spafford,  William 
•  aiote,  WiUiam  H 

Simmons,  P  W- 

Seymour,  J. 

douchard,  Lomi 

Seely,  Richard 

Smith,  John 

Southwick,  H.  C- 

Stewart,  Bfr. 

Shaw,  James 

Sweet,  t^onrad 

Sharpe,  C<iraeliai  5. 

Satteriy,  John 

Stoker,  John 

8^  Alban's£odge,rro.<ft 
SpOQuer,  Alden 
Smith,  Eiyah 
Smith,  Tbomas  T>. 
Slovcr,  A. 
Sayer,  N. 
Stephens,  J.  &I^. 
Shatten^  Thomas 
Stephens,  A.  r. 
Sage,  NatbAt^ 
Swart,  John 
Swart,  Peter,  JOB. 
Starin,  H.  W. 
Snider,  Heniy    . 
Smith  Asher 
Stoekney,  Nalbsa  * 

Stewart,  James 
Storm,  Parid  D. 
Tompkins,  Daniel  P- 
TbuFston.Josbua 
Turvey,  David 
Townseod,  ^Qcl 
Timen,  Jalios  •' 
Truss,  ChristiiB 
Tisdale,  Jacob  :  -' 

11ioHmin,„Jaittes 
Tumey,  James 
Taylor,  Edward  N. 
Tenair,  John  - 
Tribe,  UfsmsN. 
TimsoD,  Joha  W. 
,^11bbal8,L.      /'     ^4^ 


Taylor,  lIlflM  l^ 
Townsend,.0*iS" 

Digiti^ThompsoB,  AntJiony 


SUBSCIUBERS*  NAMBS. 


Vtt/Joho 
Utt,  Peter 
Upson,  Uriah 
Toshargh,  Herman 
VanderbUt,  John.  jun. 
Voltee,  Frederick  L. 
Tallop,  I«ewis 
Van  De  Water,  Valentine 
Van  Slyck,  A. 
Varret,  Garret 
Walsh,  John 
Whitlock,  Thaddeus 
Wunnenbargfa,  Albert 
Walker,  Jones  B. 
Ward,  WiUiam  H. 
Williams,  Elisha 
Wright,  Daniel 
Woollen,  Charies 
Wisbart,  Daniel 
Woodruff,  Timothy 
'Western,  Henrv  M. 
Weed,  Daniel  H. 
Waldron,  Oliver 
Ward,  Edward  C. 
Wehlers,  Georee 
White,  James  Hill 
Wright,  James  F. 
Whitney,  Joseph 
Watson,  Harvey 
Wilkin,  Samuel  J. 
Tates,  John  B. 
TouDg  Alexander 

X<nEW-JERSEY. 
Smith,  M  os^ 

PENNSYLVANIA- 
Benevolent  Lodge,  No.  66. 
Dinliqger,  C. 
Erb,  Emanuel 

n^      sstock,  George 
per,  Morris  G. 
er,  George 
Hay,  Miohaei 
Prince,  David  B. 
Patehell,  Edwar4 
Farmele,  Henry 
BoQie,  Lake 

VIRGINIA. 
Boulware,  Turner 
Burke.  Samuel  D. 
Cashel,  Matthew 
Craghead,  George 
Dillon,  James 
Foster,  John  &  Broker 
Gates,  Elias 
Harrison,  William  A. 
Jenison,  Oliver 
Laidley,  James  O. 
Morris,  Isaae 
Marselliot,  Jaeob 
Price,  Charles 
Patrick,  Spier 
Raine,  John 

lU^Joha  j^,   . 

Stephenson,  David '«      ' 
Stephenson,  James  M. 
Teihr  WyUam 


J^l^tc 
4Bne 
Haner, 


GEORGU. 
Barnes,  J. 
Gushing,  J.  T. 
i;gan,  William  Henry 
Hannon,  T.'S. 
Hammond,  John  H. 
Ridley,  Archibald  B. 
Rockwell,  Samnel 
Smith,  Thomas  B. 
Stanford,  J.  R. 
Savage,  William 
Votey,  David 
Vance,  John  P. 

KITNTUCKY. 
Bridges,  Liewit 
Bates,  A; 
Ballard,  A.  E. 
Brown,  William 
Bainbridge,  Edmund  T. 
Bloomfield  Lodge,  No.  57 
Corwin,  William 
Craig,  S.  W. 
Cowan,  David  G. 
Curd,  Willis 
Cosley,  Dabney  0. 
Clark,  A.  M. 
Cooke,  Stephen 
Crane,  John  H. 
Clark  Jliodge,  No.  5 
De  Bruin,  H.  1. 3  copies 
Daulton,  James 
Grand  Chapter 
Guthrie,  Edmund 
Gano,  John  A. 

§ano,  A.  G. 
undley,  John  B. 
January,  A.  M« 
January,  Thomas  H. 
Januaiy,  Samuel^  Senr. 
iFoicett,  Jack 
LiUeston,  R.  C. 
Lancaster,  Ralph 
Louisville  Chapter 
Lexini^ton  Chapter,  No.  1 
Morton,  JohnM. 
M'Clean,  Joseph  G. 
M»G6e,  Lynch 
Newman,  Thomas 
Noel,  Smaliwood 
Nantz,  Matthew 
Gutter,  E. 
Oldham,  Richard 
Porter,  William 
Phillips,  William 
Pope,  John 
Priest,  Fielding: 
Pike,  James  M. 
anos,  Daniel 

Russell,  David  A. 
Rainey,  William  H. 
Shepherd,  C.  B. 


She&tall,  Florence 
Sutherland,  William 
Stout,  Piatt 
Shelton,  Thomas 
Swigert,  Philip 
Smith,  Larkin  B. 
Simpson  Lodge,  No.  31 
Stephen,  Robert 
Stone,  Eli  H. 
Stone,  Isaac  D. 
Taylor,  Francis 
Warren,  William  E. 
Wai^^,  George  L. 
Wood,  William,  junr- 
Youce,  lyiichael  G. 

OHIO. 
Anderson,  Lewis 
Andrews,  Abraham 
Atwattr,  Caleb 
Aisnworth,  Richard  M. 
Barton,  Isaac 
Brown,  Israel 
Booker,  William 
Booth,  James  M. 
Blake,  Benjamin 
Barker,  Lnther  D. 
Bliss,  James 
Bower,  James 
Bower,  Ebeneser 
Barrett,  John  K. 
Bliss,  John 
Bebee,  Walter  B. 
Brown,  Hachaliah 
Browning,  Woodville 
Barker,  ^muel  A. 
Bosworth,  Mareus 
Bureau,  J.  P.  K. 
Beecher,  Philemon 
Binkley,  Jacob 
Boyle.  HuKh 
Craii«ord,Robert 
Cunningham,  Andrew 
Cotton,  John 
Cunningham,  John 
Crawford,  John 
Cook,  Silas 
Cooke,  Moses 
Caldwell,  James 
Cannon,  Cnrtiss 
Crozer,  James 
Cartvet,  John  D.  i 

Centre  Star  Lodge 
Clark,  E«ra 
Dillon,  Josiah 
Dunn,  James ' 
Drown,  Notley 
Drown,  Simeon  De  V 
Duncan,  Howell  L. ' 
Doster,  James 
]>ewy,  Erastus  H. 
Damarin,  Charle 
Davi^J^charia^ 
BietHck,  Jaco^ 


Ill 

Eckcrt,  Conrad  W. 
EtUs,  Ezer 
Eaton,  Benjamin 
Foeg,  Thomas  P. 
Fbher,  John 
Gates,  Samnel 
Ounn,  Samuel 
Gat«fl,  Nathaniel 
C&Uman,  NathaDiel  C. 
,Griswold,  E. 
Ualse,  John 
Hubbard,  William  B. 
Hartshorae,  Darius 
Hamilton,  Jude 
Henderson,  Jamea 
Holden,  Nathaniel 
Holden,  Ichabod  A. 
Huntington,  John 
^Hamilton,  William 
Hunt,  Otis 

Highlaad  Lodge,  No.  88. 
Hanson,  Hiram 
Hende,  Andrew 
Hnghes,  Joseph 
Horeb  Ciiapter 
Jones,  Wiiraith 
Jennings,  David 
Jackson,  Daniel 
Jewit,  jVIpheus 
l^awton,  Jesse 
Livcrmore,  Jonas 
Lord,  Thomas,  jun. 
Linton,  John 
M'Neely,  William 
M'Elloit,  John 
M'Orovc,  Augustus 
Merrill,  John 
Murphy,  Horatio 
M-Callbuffh,  James 
M'Ardle,  JohnP. 
M'Coy,  Cornelius 
Manager,  Peter 
MHfj>hy,  reward 
M'Quhtters,  Hugh 
Mcason,  Tshuc 
M'Cart^y,  John 
Ai.ihafi'e\;,  John 
ISo  bio.  John 
Nai^mard,  John 
O'Ham,  G.  M.R. 
Prenti?,  Royal 
Purdy,  Solomon 
Parmeic,  Harvey 
Pnttei**ion,  Jokn 
•  Prichard,  A.  P. 
Pettibone,  H.  XL 
Parker,  Daniel 


SUBSCRIBERS'  ?^AM£S. 

Qqigley,  William 

Robertson,  Charles 

Robertson,  Robert 

Rice,  Isaac 

Roberts,  Horace 

Rhodes,  D.  W. 
.    Rodgcrs,  James 

Rod»crs,  Hugh 

Reed,  Reuben 

Riiy5,  Levi 

TJk^y  Georgp 
.Reeder,D.F. 

Bteret,  Alexander 

Stineman,  Gottliel 

Sanderson,  George 

Smith,  John  A. 

Stevens,  Charles 

Sweppee,  Henry  F. 

Stone,  Sardine 

Stone,  Augustus 

Sample,  George 

Sampson,  John 

Shoemaker,  Solomon 

Si e wart,  John 

Smith  &  Clark 

Spelman,  Sylvester 

Smith,  Benjamin 

Sherman,  Charles  R. 

Thomas,  W. 

Talbot,  William 

Trobridge,  Archibald 

Ulmore,  Jacob 
"Warner,  Axamanda 
AV  right,  Simeon 
Webb,  Nathan 
Woathorington,  Joho 
Webb,  Erastus 
Warner,  Wright 
AVithrow.  Samuel 
White,  Thoraly  L. 
Wilson,  James 
Yonn^,  Henry 
Younkinf  Abraham 
MISSOURI. 
Brck,  Abraham 
Wclvcly,  H.  C. 

ALABAMA. 
Andrus,  Augustus 
•    Blake,  Luther 
Houghton,  J.  IL 
M'^ux,  Thomas  0. 
Perry,  Ilomtio  G. 
Pctei-s,  William  R. 
Rodger?,  Thomas  A. 
Radcliffc,  John 

INDIANA. 
Sheets,  John 


CONNECncCT 

Androfs,  AognMos 
Cooper,  Moses 
Cooley,  William 
ChaflTec,  Samuel  G. 
Famell,  Asa 
Federal  Lod^,  No.  If 
Graham,  James 
GooAviff,  Joseph 
Hatch,  A, 
Hitchcox,  Samuel 
Jone.«,  Oliver  S. ' 
Jones,  Joseph 
Jewet,  Joseph  F- 
Lee,  Frederick 
Norton,  Joseph  G. 
Noyes,  JosefUi 
OlmMed,  Aaron  F. 
Parker,  James  C. 
Rockwell,  Martin 
Ransome,  W. 
Spencer,  Nelfon 
S(,  Mark  Lodge,  No.  3K 
Wolcott,  TalcoU 
Washburn,  Charles 

MAS3ACHUSMTS 
Burrill,  Nathan 
Dame,  Eliphalet 
Emerson,  James  H. 
Evening  Star  Lodge 
Kimball,  Abraham 
Morril,  Alva 
Spafford,  George 
Tucker,  Joseph 
Wbiton,  Manly 

NEW-HAMPSHIRT 

Benton,  Calvin 

Canada.       -j, 

Addington  Lodge  *r 

Bristol,  Coleman 
'  Cothier,  Williani. 
Dean,  John 
Davy,  Peter 
Fairfield,  B. 
Fry,  Christian 
Fe Reason,  John  W. 
Hall,  P.  F. 
Jaqueth,  Isaac 
Lockvrood,  Samoet 
M'Kenzie,  James 
Nichol,  Walter,  32toptes 
Strange,  John 
Thompson,  Hus^  C. 
Wllkins,R<iber? 
Wood,  Thomas  G. 


^  Several  of  our  agents  at  a  distance,  have  neglectetlto  forward  lists  of  their  sdK. 
W  names,  part.cu  .Hy  those  mihe  vicinity  of  DunAu^3^Ancast^  ZlJ^ 
da  St.  John's,  ,u  Nova  Scolia,  and  Waterloo,  In  the  stkS  of  Ne^Yort'^ 

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