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STRAY  LEAVES 


A  FREEMASON'S  NOTE-BOOK, 


BY 

A   SUFFOLK    RECTOR. 


"  Every  Christian  is  a  stoue  in  this  spiritual  edifice,  in  which,  when  properly 
modelled  and  polished  by  the  exercise  of  religion  and  the  practice  of  morality, 
and  fitted  for  translation  to  a  celestial  building,  he  is  cemented  with  his  per- 
fected brethren,  by  charity,  into  a  beautiful  temple,  prepared  on  earth  and  put 
together  ijj  heaven." 

Dr.  Oliver's  Star  in  the  East. 


NEW  YORK: 
JNO.  W.  LEONARD  &  CO.,  MASONIC  PUBLISHERS, 


NO.  383   BROADWAY. 
1856. 


Stereotyped  by 
HOLMMT  4  GRAY,  NEW  YORK. 

Printed  and  Bound  by 

J.  P.   BRKNNAN,   LOUISVILLE,   KT, 


■t-y  c 


■p^^oy 


PREFACE 


In  claiming  the  attention  of  the  reader  to  the  present 
volume,  it  may  be  proper  for  me  to  state,  that  it  origina- 
ted in  a  wish  to  aid  those  charities  which  are  at  once  the 
boast  and  ornament  of  our  order,  and  more  particularly  to 
strengthen  that  which  I  conceive  to  be  so  full  of  promise 

THE  PROJECTED  "  AsYLUM  FOR  THE  AgED  AND  DE- 
CAYED Free-mason." 

In  waiving,  for  myself,  all  pecuniary  advantage,  the  far 
higher  gratification  will  be  mine  of  devoting  the  entire  pro- 
ceeds of  the  copyright  to  Masonic  charity. 

If  the  reader  will  bear  in  mind  this  design,  some  defects 
will  more  readily  be  excused.  Moreover,  it  is  incumbent 
on  me  to  state,  clearly  and  candidly,  that  some  three  or 
four  of  these  sketches  have  appeared  elsewhere. 

«'  Canning  in  Retirement,"  "  The  Foreign  Sorceress  and 
the  British  Statesman,"  "A  Sovereign,  a  Lady  in  Waiting, 
and  a  Secret,"  figured  in  the  fugitive  literature  of  the  day ; 
while  "  The  Measure  meted  out  to  Others,  measured  to 
us  again,"  was  honoured  with  a  niche  in  "Blackwood." 

Would  they  were,  one  and  all,  more  worthy  of  the 
cause  they  are  designed  to  serve ! 


Tl  PREFACE. 

That  some  of  the  inferences  which  they  suggest  will 
be  controverted  is  probable  enough :  especially  such  as 
have  reference  to  the  condition  of  the  poor.  Let  me 
hope,  however,  that  whatever  deficiency  my  brochure  may 
contain,  there  will  be  found  in  it  no  want  of  Christian 
tenderness. 

For  the  rest — "  None  of  these  things  move  me !" 
Who  is  it  that  says  :  "  The  triumphs  in  evil  which  men 
call  great,  are  but  clouds  passing  over  the  serene  and 
everlasting  heavens.  Men  may,  in  craft  or  passion,  decree 
violence  and  oppression ;  but  silently,  irresistibly,  they 
and  their  works  are  swept  away.  A  voice  of  encourage- 
ment comes  to  us  from  the  ruins  of  the  past — from  the 
humiliations  of  the  proud,  from  the  prostrate  thrones  of 
conquerors,  from  the  baffled  schemes  of  statesmen,  from 
the  reprobation  which  sooner  or  later  visits  unrighteous 
policy.  Men,  measures,  and  all  earthly  interests  pass 
away ;  but  principles  are  eternal.  Truth,  justice,  and 
goodness  partake  of  the  omnipotence  and  immutableness 
of  God,  whose  essence  they  are.  In  these  it  becomes  us  to 
place  a  calm,  joyful,  and  unfaltering  trust  in  the  darkest 
hour.     "  Shall  not  the  judge  of  all  the  earth  do  right  ?" 

E. 

Eectory, 

October  1st,  1846. 


CONTENTS 


PAfiB 

CHAPTER  I. 
Sir  WilKam  Webb  FoUett  in  Early  Life 1 

CHAPTER  II. 
The  Soldier- Mason    ....         .....    12 

CHAPTER  III. 
The  Anti-Masonic  Vicar 16 

CHAPTER  IV. 
The  Curse  of  Talent 24 

CHAPTER  V. 
Canning  in  Retirement  ■         .  ....    31 

CHAPTER  VI. 
A  Literary  Soiree 40 

CHAPTER  VII. 
"  The  Measure  meted  out  to  Others,  Measured  to  us  again"       .    45 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
The  Foreign  Sorceress  and  the  British  Statesman      .        .        .63 

CHAPTER  LX. 

"Nidus  Passerum;"  or,  the  "  Sparro we' s"  Nest  at  Ipswich      ,    68 


VIU  CONTENTS. 

'       Pao« 
CHAPTER  X. 
A  Mason  in  High  Places :  Bishop  Griswold        .         .         .         .75 

CHAPTER  XL 
A  Sovereign :  a  Lady  in  Waiting :  and  a  Secret         .         .        ."80 

CHAPTER  Xll. 
Liston ;  or,  the  Melancholy  of  Mirth  .         .        «         .         .     85 

CHAPTER  XIIL 
The  Juryman-Mason 92 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
A  Mason's  Home  ;  Newstead  Abbey  and  Col.  Wildman      .         .  118 

CHAPTER  XV. 
The  late  Rev.  Robert  Lynam  and  the  Prizes  in  the  Church         .  128 

CHAPTER  XVL 

A  Grand  Master's  Ancestral  Halls :  Hastings  and  Donnington  .  135 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Half  a  dozen  Words  about  the  Poor 141 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
The  True  Pohcy  of  the  Order    .         ._       .  .        .        .  152 


STRAY    LEAVES 


FREE-MASON'S  NOTE-BOOK, 


STRAY   LEAVES 


FREE-MASON'S  NOTE-BOOK, 


CHAPTER   I. 


SIR   WILLIAM    WEBB    FOLLETT    IN    EARLY   LIFE. 

A   BOYISH    REMINISCENCE. 

"  I  fear  not,  Fate,  thy  pendent  shears — 
There  are  who  pray  for  length  of  years  ; 

To  them,  not  me,  allot  them  : 
Life's  cup  is  nectar  at  the  brink, 
Midway  a  palatable  drink, 

And  wormwood  at  the  bottom." 

Horace  Smith. 

There  is  something  pleasing,  yet  solemn,  in  the  review 
which,  as  life's  evening  advances,  we  take  of  our  early 
contemporaries.  The  roll-call  recurs  to  us  ;  and,  with 
each  name,  a  thousand  associations  are  instantly  blended. 
Of  those  whom  we  recollect  to  have  entered  the  race 
with  us,  how  many  have  long  since  reached  the  goal ! 
How  few — comparatively  speaking — after  a  lapse  of  nine- 
and-twenty  years  remain  !  Upon  some,  the  drama  of  life 
has  closed  in  poverty  and  exile.  Upon  others,  bitter  dis- 
appointment has  fallen.  The  manhood  of  not  a  few  has 
been  steeped  in  sorrow.  While  more  than  one  has  sunk 
to  sleep  in  the  bosom  of  our  common  parent,  with  pros- 
pects finally  and  hopelessly  overshadowed  by  ignominy 
and  disgrace. 

Thus  musing,  it  is  dehghtful  to  turn  to  one  whose 


M  SIR    WILLIAM    WEBB    FOLLETT 

whole  progress  was  ^' oimard,''''  and  whose  career  amply 
justified  the  affectionate  expectations  of  those  to  whom 
his  fame  was  dear. 

Sir  William  Webb  Follett  and  myself  were  school- 
fellows. We  had  the  advantage  of  being  under  the  disci- 
pline of  Doctor  Lempriere — the  author  of  the  well-known 
Classical  Dictionary — during  the  period  he  presided  over 
the  Exeter  Free  Grammar  School. 

Of  him  it  is  not  too  much  to  affirm  that  he  was  at  once 
the  scholar  and  the  gentleman — a  most  patient  instructor 
and  a  most  gifted  companion.  Poor  fellow  !  he  laboured 
long  and  cheerfully;  but  the  evening  of  his  active  life 
was  painfully  overcast.  The  "  otium  cum  dignitate^''  was 
his  only  in  prospect.  Persecution  assailed  him  from  a 
quarter  whence  he  had  a  right  to  expect  only  friendship. 
"  Dis  aliter  visum  / "  He  was  ejected  from  the  Head  Mas- 
tership— the  victim,  as  he  averred,  of  some  wretched 
intrigue ;  and  the  object  of  accusations  which  could 
never  be  substantiated. 

But  the  period  during  which  Sir  William  and  my  hum- 
ble self  were  under  his  control  was  that  of  his  "  high  and 
palmy"  days ;  when  the  school  was  in  the  zenith  of  its 
fame,  and  he  of  his  popularity;  when  the  eldest  sons  of 
distinguished  county  families  were  domesticated  beneath 
his  roof — and  no  accents,  save  those  of  commendation, 
arose  around  him. 

One  peculiarity  he  had — that  of  forming  a  tolerably 
correct  estimate  of  a  boy's  after-success  in  life.  I  do  not 
affirm  that  his  opinion  was  always  framed  independent  of 
prejudice,  or  that  all  his  predictions  were  verified.  I 
contend  only  that,  mainly  and  generally,  he  was  right. 
One  instance  I  remember  well.  We  had  on  the  roll  of 
our  class  a  lad  of  extraordinary  promise.  His  quickness 
and  clearness  of  apprehension  were  remarkable.  His 
command  of  language  was  great,  and  his  facility  in  com- 
position enviable.     The  under-masters  petted  A as  a 

prodigy ;  and  boldly  predicted,  on  his  leaving  us,  that  he 
would  rise,  and  rise  rapidly,  to  distinction. 

From  this  opinion  the  Doctor  invariably  dissented. 
"  Pshaw !"  he  was  heard  to  say,  on  one  occasion,  "  he 
will  attain  no  distinction ;  unless  it  be  that  of  leaving 
the  country  at  his  Majesty's  expense.  He  wants  ballast 
— the  ballast  o/* principle." 


IN    EARLY    LIFE.  3 

The  Doctor  was  right.    Poor  A-—- —  is  now  at  Sydney. 

Equally  judicious  was  his  estimate  of  the  late  Attorney- 
General.  "  Webb  Follett  is  not  brilliant,  but  he  is  solid. 
He  will  not  snatch,  but  he  will  earn  distinction.  I  shall 
not  live  to  see  it ;  but  it  will  be  so." 

Now,  this  conclusion  was  the  more  curious,  because 
Follett  was  not  one  of  those  spirits  w^io  hit  peculiarly 
the  Doctor's  taste.  Follett,  as  a  boy,  w^as  rather  slow ; 
there  is  no  use  in  denying  it.  There  was  at  school 
nothing  dashing  or  brilliant  about  him.  His  articulation 
in  boyhood  was  thick,  and  his  demeanour  somewhat 
sluggish.  Now  sliarpness,  quickness,  and  readiness,  the 
Doctor  delighted  in.  Again  :  Follett  was  not  fond  of 
classics ;  the  Doctor  revelled  in  them.  And  yet  he  ap- 
preciated his  pupil,  and  did  him  justice.  In  proof  of  this, 
I  well  recollect  that  when  one  of  the  under-masters — 
Osborne  was  the  reverend  gentleman's  name — said  to  the 
Doctor,  after  a  hasty  perusal,  "  J-Vebb  Follett'' s  verses,  Sir, 
want  imagination;'''  the  rejoinder  instantly  followed — 
"  But,  Sir,  they  possess — what  many  verses  do  not — 
SENSE  !" 

There  was  one  peculiarity  about  the  late  Attorney- 
General  in  boyhood,  which,  I  am  inclined  to  think,  ac- 
companied him  in  after-life.  He  possessed  the  entire 
confidence  of  our  little  community.  The  sentiment  he 
inspired,  generally,  was  respect.  "Well!  that's  Webb 
Follett's  opinion" — was  a  dictum  which  settled  many  a 
boyish  quarrel,  and  stilled  many  an  angry  difference. 
Perhaps  this  might  mainly  be  owing  to  his  manner :  for 
even  in  boyhood  he  was  calm,  and  grave,  and  self-pos- 
sessed. There  was  a  composedness  about  him  which  no 
petty  irritations  coold  ruffle.  Webb  Follett  in  a  passion 
would  have  been  a  rare  spectacle  on  the  play-ground. 

I  remember  accompanying  him  and  two  others  to  the 
Nisi  Prius  Court,  at  Exeter,  during  the  assizes.  We  little 
thought  at  that  moment  what  a  distinguished  role  our 
calm  and  thoughtful  companion  was  himself  destined  to 
play  in  a  court  of  judicature.  Talent  there  was  in  abun- 
dance on  the  Western  Circuit  at  that  juncture ;  Gilford 
and  Lens,  and  Pell  and  Abbot,  all  in  the  very  zenith  of 
their  powers,  and  in  the  full  swing  of  successful  exertion, 
and  all  since  passed  away  from  the  scene  ! 

We,  the  juniors,  were  desirous  to  bribe  our  way  into 


4  SIR    WILLIAM    WEBB    FOLLETT 

the  Crown  Court ;  but  Follett  was  resolved  to  enter  none 
but  the  nisi  prius. 

"  I  want,"  was  his  remark,  "  to  hear  GifFord  cross- 
examine  a  witness ;"  and,  much  against  our  will,  we 
accompanied  him.  We  staid  till  the  court  broke  up. 
When  the  sheriff's  carriage  approached  to  convey  the 
judge  to  his  lodgings,  with  the  pomp  and  parade  usually- 
observed  on  such  occasions,  we  loitered  and  gazed  at  the 
spectacle  with  lighter  hearts,  perhaps,  than  those  of  the 
principal  performers. 

"Who  knows  but  that  I  may  come  here  as  judge  some 
day  myself?''  said  our  companion,  as  we  reluctantly 
turned  our  steps  homeward. 

"Judge  Follett!"  we  exclaimed  and  roared  with 
amusement. 

"Well,  Follett,  you  would  be  a  grave  judge  at  any 
rate,"  said  Edward  Gater,  our  spokesman. 

"  Grave  or  not,"  was  the  rejoinder,  "  I  hope  I  should 
be  able  to  see  when  a  counsel  was  bamming  me  ;  and  not 
listen  on,  as  that  old  woman  did  this  morning,  while  Pell 
was  regularly  cramming  her  !" 

The  "  old  woman"  was  no  less  a  personage  than  the 
late  Sir  Alan  Chambre. 

And  yet,  daring  and  strange  as  the  remark  may  seem — 
those  who  remember  him  in  youth  will  bear  out  its  truth 
— law  was  not  his  choice.  His  early  predilections  leant 
towards  a  military  life.  I  remember  going  down  to  stay 
with  him  a  couple  of  days  at  his  father's  at  Topsham.  A 
general  officer  had  died  in  or  near  Exeter :  he  had  com- 
manded the  district,  and  a  military  funeral,  on  an  exten- 
sive scale,  and  of  an  imposing  description,  awaited  him. 
Follett  and  I  witnessed  it.  During  the  visit  he  reverted 
to  this  spectacle  more  than  once,  and  told  me  how  much 
and  ardently  he  had  wished  to  be  a  soldier.  He  dwelt 
on  the  many  attractions  which  the  profession  of  arms 
possessed  for  him  ;  the  perpetual  change  of  scene  which 
it  involved ;  the  probability  of  visiting  foreign  climes ; 
the  careless,  light-hearted,  joyous  life  led  by  the 
military  man ;  the  independent  position  which  the 
soldier  maintained  in  society ; — "  but,"  so  ran  his 
summary,  "  this  is  an  idle  train  of  thought :  my  father's 
past  experience  leads  him  to  oppose  me,  decidedly,  on 
the    point;    and,"    added  he,   with    his    calm,    sweet 


IN    EARLY    LIFE.  O 

thoughtful  smile,  "ours  is  a  struggling  family;  we 
want  money." 

In  after  life  he  was  accused  of  being  sordid  ;  but  might 
not  the  unwavering  and  untiring  earnestness  with  which 
he  followed  up  his  determination  to  accumulate  wealth 
have  had  its  origin  in  those  prudential  considerations, 
pressed  on  him  by  Captain  Follett  in  the  outset  of  his 
career,  and  which  undoubtedly  swayed  him  in  his  choice 
of  a  profession  ?  Nor,  wtiile  glancing  at  the  past,  does  it 
escape  me  that,  politically,  the  bias  of  the  youth  and  of 
the  man  was  identical.  Follett,  even  in  his  early  days, 
was  an  unflinching  Tory.  A  boyish  incident  fixes  this 
firmly  in  my  memor}?-.  Near  the  Grammar  School  lived 
a  saddler  of  the  name  of  Cooke;  this  eccentric  had  a 
strong  political  mania,  and  used,  during  the  stirring  period 
of  the  war,  to  issue,  for  the  benefit  of  the  masses,  large 
written  placards  detailing,  in  quaint  phraseology  and 
most  original  spelling,  the  leading  events  of  the  day. 
These  monster  placards  were  nailed  to  his  shutters,  read 
by  many  hundreds  in  the  course  of  the  current  twenty- 
four  hours,  and  were  called  "  Cooke's  Bulenteensy  The 
saddler  was  a  disciple  of  Lord  Eldon's  school ;  thought 
Billy  Pitt  "  the  greatest  man  that  ever  drew  the  breath 
of  life,"  and  Buonaparte  the  incarnation  upon  earth  of 
the  evil  one ;  hated  the  French  with  a  perfect  hatred,  and 
regarded  Cobbett  as  "  a  traitorous  villian,  whom  the  axe 
would  make  a  head  shorter  some  summer's  day ;"  spoke 
of  George  the  Third  as  a  martyr — the  train  of  reasoning 
by  which  he  arrived  at  this  conclusion  I  could  never  very 
clearly  follow — and  Peter  Pindar  "  a  wretch  unfit  to  live  !" 
His  idol  was  Lord  RoUe  :  he  called  him  "  the  glory  of 
Devon,"  "  his  country's  pride,"  one  of  the  "bulwarks  of 
the  state,"  "Lord  Liverpool's  prized  counsellor,"  and 
"  the  ornament  of  the  peerage."     Alas  !  poor  peerage  ! 

But  despite  of  all  their  absurdity,  prejudice,  and 
strange  orthography,  John  Cooke's  "  Bullenteens"  had 
a  host  of  "  constant  readers."  Among  them,  at  any  and 
every  opportunity  he  could  seize,  the  future  Atto*-ney- 
General.  His  penchant  did  not  escape  comment  •  the 
entire  sixth  form  assailed  him. 

"  What  can  induce  you,  Follett,  to  stand  and  read 
such  trash  ?"  cried  one  senior.  "  Saddler  Cooke  is  little 
better  than  a  maniac,"  shouted  another. 


6  SIR    WILLIAM    WEBB    FOLLETT 

*'  And  should  be  taught  to  spell,"  added  a  third. 

"  Which  Follett,  for  the  love  he  bears  him,  is  about  to 
attempt,"  was  the  sly  suggestion  of  a  fourth. 

Follett  fiuished  the  "  bullenteen"  without  heeding  the 
small  shot  that  was  firing  around  him.  He  decyphered 
the  hieroglyphics  and  mastered  the  orthography  with  his 
wonted  deliberation,  and  then  calmly  rejoined — 

"  No  one  denies  the  coarseness  of  Cooke's  remarks,  or 
the  general  absurdity  of  his  arguments,  when  the  reason- 
ing fit  is  on  him  ;  but  I  like  the  man — like  him  hugely. 
I  like  his  honesty,  his  sincerity,  his  obstinate  devotion 
to  his  party  ;  and,  more  than  this,  I  like  him  because, 
himself  sprung  from  the  rabble,  he  is  no  democrat,  but, 
on  the  contrary,  never  fails  to  warn  his  fellow-men  how 
they  would  fare  were  a  mob  government  in  rule  over 
them.  Laugh  on  as  you  will,  I'm  to  the  death  John 
Cooke's  ally,  admirer,  and  constant  reader." 

Meanwhile,  if  the  saddler  had  his  adherents,  he  had 
also  his  opponents;  and,  as  he  never  could  be  brought  to 
use  parliamentary  language,  or  study  refinement  in  the 
epithets  which  he  applied  to  men  and  parties,  there  was 
occasionally  a  row  around  his  "buUenteens."  At  one 
of  these  Follett  was  present.  The  obnoxious  paper  was 
about  to  be  pulled  down  and  torn  to  atoms  by  an  in- 
censed bystander,  when  Follett  dashed  in,  rescued  the 
state  paper,  and  restored  it  to  its  amazed  and  angry 
owner. 

Tidings  of  this  escapade  reached  head-quarters. 

"By  what  fortune  were  you  present  at  this  paltry 
brawl,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  and  what  motive  had  you  for 
interfering  ?     I  address  myself  to  Follett." 

"If  you  please,  Sir,  Cooke  belongs  to  our  party,"  was 
the  response. 

'^  Oh !"  said  the  Doctor,  drily,  "I  was  not  aware  that 
my  sixth  form  troubled  themselves  about  parties :  and 
pray,  Mr.  Follett,  which  may  you  favour?" 

"  Church  and  State,  Sir." 

"  I  wish  most  devoutly,"  said  the  Doctor,  turning 
away,  "  that  the  Exe  had  the  saddler  and  his  bulletins 
and  his  ink-horn  in  its  waters  ;  I  shall  now  be  treated  to 
a  political  mania  in  the  school,  and  have  this  to  combat 
in  addition  to  ignorance  and  idleness.  Pleasant !  My 
obligations  to  Mr.  Cooke  are  great." 


IN    EARLY    LIFE.  7 

Those  who  saw  Sir  William  only  in  public,  and  noticed 
the  gravity,  quiescence,  and  dignity  of  his  demeanour, 
would  credit  with  reluctance  that  quiet  humour  formed 
any  part  of  his  character.  It  did.  One  brief  trait  must 
suffice.  At  the  period  I  am  referring  to,  there  lived  in 
Colleton  Crescent  a  lady  of  the  name  of  Hewitt.  She 
was  a  person  advanced  in  life;  a  widow,  possessed  of 
West  India  property  to  some  amount ;  of  extremely 
cheerful  habits ;  fond  of  society  ;  and  very  partial  to 
young  people.  To  amuse  a  nephew  and  niece  who  were 
staying  with  her,  she  issued  cards  for  a  masquerade. 
This  was  a  novel  species  of  entertainment  in  Exeter ; 
created  a  good  deal  of  expectation  among  the  young,  and 
marvellous  comment  among  the  old.  But  comment  was 
not  all  which  the  projected  evening's  amusement  aroused. 
The  gay  old  lady  was  doomed  to  meet  with  opposition. 
A  few  days  before  the  masquerade  was  "to  come  off,"  a 
clergyman — I  shall  term  him  the  Reverend  Goliah 
Ghostly— called  on  Mrs.  Hewitt  to  demand  her  reasons 
for  giving  so  objectionable  an  entertainment.  The  lady 
faltered  a  little  in  her  reply;  and  at  length  observed, 
that  she  "  imagined  the  Exeter  people  would  like  it — 
the  young  folks  more  particularly."  Upon  which,  Mr. 
Ghostly  upbraided  her  for  her  godless  tastes ;  told  her 
in  plain  terms  how  reprehensible  were  her  doings ;  and 
finished,  by  inquiring,  "  what  would  become  of  her  if  she 
should  die  with  a  masquerade  going  on  in  her  house  ?" — 
The  elderly  lady  meekly  answered,  that  she  "  had  cer- 
tainly not  provided  against  such  a  contingency  :  and  was 
aware  that  death  could  be  at  no  great  distance  from  her 
whether  she  was  at  home  or  abroad."  Mr.  Ghostly  then 
assured  her  that  she  was  corrupting  the  morals  of  the 
young,  setting  a  perilous  example  in  a  cathedra)  city ; 
that  all  sober  people  looked  upon  the  projected  masque- 
rade as  an  abomination ;  that  thenceforth  she  would  be  a 
marked  person ;  and  that  the  public,  as  they  passed  Colle- 
ton Crescent,  would  point  to  her  dwelling,  and  say,  "  that 
is  the  infamous  house  where  the  masquerade  was  given  !" 

This  last  figure  of  speech  overpowered  Mrs.  Hewitt. 
The  "finger  of  scorn"  was  too  m.uch  for  her.  She  shed 
tears  :  confessed  the  error  of  her  ways,  and  vowed  that 
she  would  recall  her  cards,  and  that  the  masquerade 
should  be  forthwith  relinquished. 


8  SIR    WILLIAM    WEBB    POLLETT 

Had  Mr.  Ghostly  paused  here  and  vanished,  all  would 
have  been  well.  His  triumph  so  far  was  complete.  But 
not  satisfied  with  the  concession  he  had  won,  he  renew- 
ed the  attack,  by  inquiring  when  this  satanic  imagination 
first  took  possession  of  her  mind ;  asked  her  if  she  had 
ever  attended  a  revel  of  the  kind ;  and  added  his  fears  as 
to  the  frightfully  lethargic  state  of  her  conscience,  which 
could  permit  her  to  contemplate  an  entertainment  of 
such  an  equivocal  description.  Mrs.  Hewitt  upon  this 
dried  her  tears  ;  reflected  in  silence  for  a  few  moments  ; 
and  then  amended  her  position. 

She  observed,  she  thought  at  sixty  she  was  able  to 
distinguish  between  right  and  wrong ;  that  she  held 
there  was  a  marked  difference  between  a  public  and  a 
private  masquerade  ;  that  she  fancied  she  was  at  liberty 
to  spend  her  income  as  she  pleased  ;  that  Mr.  Goliah 
Ghostly  was  not  her  parochial  minister,  or  even  a  per- 
sonal acquaintance ;  that  she  at  no  time  attended  his 
church,  or  formed  part  of  his  congregation ;  that  she 
denied  his  right  to  call  her  to  account,  or  to  decide  upon 
her  future  destiny ;  and  further,  she  was  resolved  that — 
the  masquerade  should  go  forward!  On  that  she  was  firm, 
come  what  would  of  it ! 

Mr.  Ghostly  professed  himself  unutterably  shocked, 
and  commenced  de  novo  his  threats  and  warnings.  These 
the  hospitable  old  lady  waived  by  asking  him  to  take 
luncheon  ;  and  on  his  declining,  rose  and  said,  "  their 
most  unforeseen  and  agreeable  interview  was  ended."  She 
"had  promised  to  take  an  invalid  friend  a  drive,  and 
expected  the  carriage  round  every  moment." 

This  conference — its  object — its  results — the  dialogue 
which  passed  between  the  parties,  formed  a  glorious 
theme  for  gossip  for  many  days  in  Exeter.  The  sixth 
form,  who  had  sisters,  brothers,  cousins  bidden  to  the 
frolic,  and  who  were  all  agog  themselves  on  the  subject, 
discussed  Mr.  Ghostly's  visit  most  assiduously;  the 
characters  which  it  was  surmised  their  various  relatives 
intended  to  assume  were  enumerated  and  criticised. 

"  The  masquerade  will  be  a  dead  failure,"  remarked 
Follett,  slyly,  who  had  been  a  quiet  but  most  observant 
listener — "  a  decided  and  acknowledged  failure,  if  one 
character  be  not  present  at  it." 

"  Name  !  name !"  exclaimed  a  dozen  eager  voices. 


IN    EARLY    LIFE.  9 

"  Mr.  Goliah  Ghostly,"  said  Follett,  with  a  low  music- 
al laugh. 

"But  how?  by  what  means?  The  thing  is  impos- 
sible !" 

"  Nothing  easier  !  And  what  lots  of  fun  his  presence 
would  cause  in  the  motley  assembly." 

"  Whether  the  same  idea  struck  another  party,  or 
whether  Follett's  suggestion  was  deemed  too  good  to  be 
lost,  was  repeated  by  some  one  of  his  youthful  auditory, 
and  immediately  adopted  by  some  relative  or  friend,  who 
was  at  a  loss  for  a  character,  and  deemed  it  a  happy  one, 
cannot  now  be  ascertained.  Certain  it  is,  that  about 
midnight,  a  mask,  professionly  attired,  and  calling  him- 
self the  Reverend  Goliah  Ghostly,  presented  himself  at 
Mrs.  Hewitt's  mansion  with  proper  credentials  ;  obtain- 
ed admission,  and  duly  and  warmly  anathematized  the 
amused  and  uproarious  party. 

Who  he  was  never  transpired ;  though  many  and 
shrewd  guesses  were  hazarded  respecting  him.  His  voice 
was  as  musical  as  his  denunciations  were  bitter.  This 
much  is  indisputable,  that  for  weeks  and  months  after- 
wards, the  real  Mr.  Ghostly  was  ever  and  anon  asked 
what  he  thought  of  masquerades  in  general,  and  of  Mrs. 
Hewitt's  in  particular. 

Nor  was  this  the  extent  of  the  annoyance  endured  by 
him.  There  were  some  bull-headed  people  who  believed, 
or  affected  to  believe,  that,  unable  to  resist  the  prevailing 
mania,  Mr.  Ghostly's  scruples  had  given  way,  and  that, 
after  all,  he  was  present  at  Mrs.  Hewitt's  misdoings: — 
they  averred,  as  a  fact,  that,  "  it  was  the  real  and  no  fictiti- 
ous Mr.  Ghostly,"  who  solemnly  paraded  the  apartments, 
and  in  good  set  terms  reproved  the  merry-making  assem- 
blage. This  was  filling  the  cup  of  bitterness  to  the 
brim. 

The  future  Attorney-General  had  been  for  many  months 
called  to  the  bar  when  we  again  met.  This  was  early  in 
1826.  He  then  spoke  calmly,  but  feelingly,  of  the  pro- 
fessional jealousy  which  existed  among  those  to  whom 
he  was  now  affiliated. 

"Players'  rivalry,"  said  he,  "  is  a  joke  to  it.  You  can 
have  no  conception  of  its  extent,  or  strength,  unless  you 
yourself  belonged  to  the  profession." 

He  then  reverted  to  past  scenes  and  mutual  friends 


10  SIR    WILLIAM    WEBB    FOLLETT 

and  in  the  course  of  conversation,  I  inferred,  from  a  pass- 
ing remark,  that  he  had  become  a  Mason.  I  asked  if  my 
conclusion  was  correct, 

"It  is,"  was  his  reply,  "  I  was  initiated  at  Cambridge." 

Light  had  not  then  beamed  upon  myself;  and  I  ex- 
pressed in  scoffing  terms  my  astonishment. 

"In  your  early  struggles  at  the  bar,"  remarked  he  with 
quiet  earnestness,  "you  require  something  to  reconcile 
you  to  your  kind.  You  see  so  much  of  bitterness,  and 
rivalry,  and  jealousy,  and  hatred,  that  you  are  thankful  to 
call  into  active  agency  a  system  which  creates  in  all  its 
varieties  kindly  sympathy,  cordial  and  wide-spread  bene- 
volence, and  brotherly  love." 

"  But  surely,"  said  I,  "  you  don't  go  the  length  of 
asserting  that  Masonry  does  all  this?" 

"And  more!  The  true  Mason  thinks  no  evil  of  his 
brother,  and  cherishes  no  designs  against  him.  The  sys- 
tem itself  annihilates  parties.  And,  as  to  censoriousness 
and  calumny,  most  salutary  and  stringent  is  the  curb 
which  masonic  principle,  duly  carried  out,  applies  to  an 
unbridled  tongue." 

'^Well!  well!  you  cannot  connect  it  with  religion: 
you  cannot,  say  or  do  as  you  will,  affirm  of  it  that  Ma- 
sonry is  a  religious  system." 

"By-and-by,  you  will  know  better,"  was  his  reply. 
"  Now  I  will  only  say  this,  that  the  Bible  is  never  closed 
in  a  Masons'  lodge ;  that  Masons  habitually  use  prayer  in 
their  lodges ;  and  in  point  of  fact,  never  assemble  for 
any  purpose  without  performing  acts  of  religion :  I  gave 
you  credit,"  continued  he  with  a  smile,  "for  being  more 
thoroughly  emancipated  from  nursery  trammels  and 
slavish  prejudice." 

"You  claim  too  much  for  your  system,"  was  my 
rejoinder. 

"  Not  at  all !  But  hear  me.  Many  clergymen  were  and 
are  Masons.    The  well-known  Dr.  Dodd  belonged  to  us." 

"I  presume,"  said  I,  jestingly,  "  you  attach  but  slight 
weight  to  his  name?     The  selection  is  unfortunate." 

"  It  occurred  to  me,"  said  he,  "from  my  having  recent- 
ly read  some  very  curious  letters  connected  with  his 
case.  The  Masons,  both  individually  and  as  a  body, 
made  the  most  extraordinary  efforts  to  save  him.  They 
were  unwearied  :  but — I  must  break  off";  when  I  can  call 


m    EARLY    LIFE.  11 

you  Brother  you  shall  see  these  letters.  Meanwhile,  is 
it  not  worth  while  to  belong  to  a  fraternity,  whose  prin- 
ciples, if  universal,  would  put  down  at  once  and  for  ever 
the  selfish  and  rancorous  feelings  which  now  divide  and 
distract  society  ?" 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE     SOLDIER-MASON. 

A      SKETCH     FROM     REAL     LIFE. 

"  As  a  military  man  I  can  say,  and  I  speak  from  experience,  that  I  have 
known  many  soldiers  who  were  Masons  :  I  never  knew  a  good  Mason 
who  was  a  bad  soldier." — Lord  Combermere. 

During  an  early  period  of  my  life,  it  was  my  fortune 
to  hold  a  curacy  in  Worcester. 

The  parish  in  which  I  had  to  labour,  though  limited  in 
point  of  size,  was  populous ;  and  in  it  were  to  be  found 
densely  packed  together,  in  two  narrow,  close,  unhealthy 
streets,  some  twelve  or  fourteen  hundred  of  the  working 
classes.  It  was  a  post  at  once  interesting  and  distressing ; 
interesting  from  the  varied  aspect  it  presented  of  human 
sorrow,  struggle,  and  suiFering;  and  distressing  from  the 
poverty  which  prevailed  in  it,  and  the  utter  inability  of 
an  individual  clergyman  to  cope  with  its  many  wants  and 
requirements. 

In  my  rounds  I  lighted  upon  a  party,  whose  name — I 
know  no  reason  why  I  should  conceal  it — was  Parker. 
He  had  been  a  soldi-^r,  a  corporal,  and  had  served  with 
some  degree  of  distinction  in  India  and  the  Peninsular 
war.  Subsequently  he  was  stationed  at  Gibraltar ;  and 
there,  from  some  peculiar  circumstance  which  at  the 
moment  I  forget,  came  under  the  personal  notice  of 
General  Don.  lie  had  a  certificate  as  to  conduct  and 
character  from  the  General,  written  by  himself  through- 
out. If  I  mistake  not,  he  had  been  orderly  for  months 
together  to  the  old  chief.  At  all  events,  the  testimony 
borne  by  him  to  Parker's  services  and  character  was  of 
no  common-place  description.  There  was  something  in 
the  bearing  and  conversation  of  this  man  which  arrested 


THE    SOLDIER-MASON*  13 

attention.  He  was  in  bad  health,  suiFered  at  intervals 
acutely  from  the  effects  of  a  gun-shot  wound,  and  was 
frequently  disabled  for  weeks  together  from  all  exertion. 
In  his  domestic  relations,  too,  he  had  much  to  try  him  : 
his  means  were  narrow,  not  always  prudently  administer- 
ed, and  he  had  some  little  mouths  around  him  clamour- 
ous for  bread.  And  yet  no  murmur  escaped  him ;  he  suf- 
fered on  in  silence.  But  personal  suffering  did  not  render 
him  selfish.  To  eke  out  his  scanty  pension,  he  resolved 
on  returning  to  Worcester  (still  famous  for  its  gloves), 
and  there  resuming  the  calling  of  his  boyish  days — leather 
staining.  Now  this  department  of  labour,  though  it 
may  be  carried  on  with  tolerable  impunity  by  the  strong 
and  the  healthy,  is,  to  the  feeble  and  the  failing,  most 
pernicious.  Dabbling  with  cold  water,  hour  after  hour, 
and  walking  about  in  garments  dank  and  heavy  with 
moisture,  tell,  eventually,  even  upon  a  vigorous  constitu- 
tion. Imagine,  then,  its  effect  upon  a  frame  enfeebled  by 
a  tropical  climate,  and  v/orn  down  by  continuous  suffer- 
ing. 

"  It  mauls  me.  Sir,  somev/hat !"  was  his  cheerful 
reply  to  my  close  inquiries  on  this  point  one  bitter 
November  morning.  His  surgeon  had  told  him — and 
this  I  knew — that  his  only  chance,  not  of  checking  his 
complaint,  for  that  was  impossible,  but  of  staying  its 
progress  was  to  keep  himself  warm  and  dry,  and  to 
avoid,  systematically,  cold  and  damp. 

Of  this  I  reminded  him. 

"  He  may  talk,"  was  his  answer,  "  but  these" — look- 
ing at  his  children — "  must  not  starve  !" 

Once  only  his  equanimity  failed  him.  I  surprised  him 
one  evening  in  excruciating  pain,  without  fuel  or  food  in 
his  dwelling,  or  money  in  his  pocket. 

He  then  said  to  me — the  admission  was  wrung  from 
him  by  bodily  and  mental  agony — that  "  considering  the 
cripple  he  was,  and  why ;  where  he  had  served,  and 
how ;  he  thought  that  his  country  should  have  done 
something  more  for  him.  My  lot,"  continued  he,  "  has 
been  a  hard  one.  I  was  compelled  by  bad  health  to 
quit  Gibraltar.  The  doctors  ordered  me  home  :  they 
said,  if  I  remained  on  the  Rock  six  weeks  longer  death 
**as  certain  ;  I  obeyed.  Three  months  afterwards  Gene- 
ral Don  died,  and,  to  the  man  who  succeeded  me  in  my 


14  THE    SOLDIER-MASON. 

post  under  him,  left  his  wardrobe,  his  arms,  his  personal 
valuables,  what,  in  fact,  proved  a  competence  for  life. 
This  was  trying ;  but  certain  tenets  tell  me  that  I  ought 
to  be  satisfied  with  whatever  portion  of  work  or  labour 
is  allotted  me.  Fidelity  to  my  mighty  Maker  is  one 
point;  tranquillity,  stillness,  and  silence,  while  I  perform 
my  task,  and  that  cheerfully,  are  others." 

"You  are  a  Mason  ?"  said  I. 

He  smiled. 

"  You  may  guess  wider  of  the  mark  than  even  that." 

"Why  not  apply  to  you  Brethren  in  Worcester?  you 
are  aware  that  here  there  is  a  lodge?" 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  A  soldier  cannot  beg  :  it  is  hateful  to  him  :  he  fears 
a  repulse  from  a  board  of  gentlemen  at  home  far  more 
than  an  enemy's  bayonets  abroad." 

"  Then  I  nmst  act  for  you.  Your  case  is  pressing ; 
and,  giving  full  credit  to  your  narrative  from  past  ex- 
perience of  your  character,  I  shall  now  take  my  own 
course.  Of  intentional  mis-statement  I  believe  you  to 
be  incapable." 

"  I  have  my  credentials  with  me,"  said  he  calmly ;  "I 
was  made  in  a  military  lodge  in  Ireland.  My  certificate, 
duly  signed,  is  in  my  oaken  chest :  all  will  bear  '  the 
LIGHT,'  and  on  all  is  stamped  '  fidelity.'  " 

I  took  the  initiative  and  succeeded.  The  order  was 
worthily  represented  in  Worcester  then  and  now.  The 
appeal  was  heard  and  heeded. 

Poor  Parker  has  long  since  escaped  from  earthly  trials 
and  bodily  ailments,  and  no  feelings  can  be  wounded  by 
referring  to  his  history.  But  it  may  be  instanced  as  in- 
volving a  lesson  of  some  moment.  Here  was  a  man  who 
unquestionably  had  spent  the  prime  of  his  life  in  his 
country's  service.  He  had  carried  her  standard  and  had 
fought  her  battles.  His  blood  had  flowed  freely  in  her 
cause.  His  adherence  to  her  interests  had  cost  him  dear. 
Wounds  which  neither  skill  nor  time  could  heal,  disabled 
him  from  exertion,  and  rendered  life  a  burden.  To  acute 
bodily  suffering  positive  privation  was  added. 

Who  relieved  him  ? 

His  country  ?  No.  She  left  him  to  perish  on  a  nig- 
gardly pension.  Who  succoured  him?  The  great  duke, 
whose  debt  to  the  private  soldier  is  so  apparent  and 


THE    SOLDIER-MASON.  15 

overwhelming?  No.  His  grace  had  become  a  states- 
man, and  in  that  capacity  wrote  caustic  letters  (from 
any  other  pen  they  would  have  been  pronounced  coarse)  to 
those  who  ventured  to  appeal  to  him. 

Who  aided  the  wounded  and  sinking  soldier  in  his 
extremity  ? 

The  Brotherhood — a  secret  band,  if  you  will,  but 
active — which  requires  no  other  recommendation  save 
desert,  and  no  other  stimulus  than  sorrow. 

And  yet,  how  little  is  it  understood,  and  how  strange- 
ly misrepresented  ! 

In  "  The  Crescent  and  the  Cross,"  by  Mr.  Warburton, 
there  is  a  glowing  passage,  which  winds  up  with  the 
remark — "  Freemasonry,  degenerated  in  our  day  into  a 
mere  convivial  bond." 

I  laid  down  the  volume  with  a  smile  and  a  sigh  ;  a 
sigh  that  a  writer  of  such  highly  cultivated  intellect 
and  generous  impulses  should  have  so  sadly  misunder- 
stood us.  A  smile — for  taking  up  an  able  periodical, 
"  The  Morning  Herald,"  my  eye  rested  on  the  passage, — 
"This  day  3,000/.,  contributed  in  India  principally  among 
the  Freemasons,  was  lodged  in  the  Bank  of  Ireland  to 
the  credit  of  the  Mansion  House  Committee,  for  the 
relief  of  the  destitute  poor  in  Ireland." 

Weighty  results  these  from  a  society  which  is  "  no 
thing  tnore  than  a  mere  convivial  bond." 


CHAPTER   III. 

THE    ANTI-MASONIC    VICAR. 

"  Turn  your  atteutioa  to  that  maguificeut  structure,  tlie  Temple  of 
Jerusalem.  Observe,  uo  clay  substance,  no  brick,  was  used ;  lest  any 
inferior  material  should  give  rise  to  base  ideas.  Every  part  and  particle 
of  that  grand  dwelling  of  IIim,  whose  existence  is  secret,  was  perfect  of 
its  kind.  Its  commonest  fragments  were  matter  of  attentive  survey. 
Even  the  stones  were  quarried  in  the  country  of  Judaea.  And  every 
measure  was  taken  to  steep  the  mind  in  that  serenity,  calmness,  and 
intensity  of  devotion  which  are  essential  to  the  true  worship  of  the 
Almighty.  The  stones,  too,  were  levelled  and  squared  before  they  were 
brought  to  the  place,  and  the  waste  was  left  behind,  that  all  might  be 
fully  prepared  and  cleanly  wrought.  So,  in  like  manner,  should  all  Free- 
masons level  and  square  their  hearts,  purging  them  of  every  impurity,  in 
order  to  arrive  at  that  glorious  state  of  mental  and  spiritual  perfection, 
of  which  the  Temple  and  its  composition  was  beautifully  symbolical." — 
Lebanon,  by  Joel  Nash. 

"  I  HAVE  sent  for  you,  although  I  know  my  summons 
must  be  inconvenient,  because  I  choose  you  to  be  present 
at  an  interview  which  has  been  forced  on  me  by  a  depu- 
tation from  the  Freemasons  :  they  aim  at  persuading  me 
to  allow  them  to  assemble  in  my  church.  A  likely  mat- 
ter, indeed  !  a  very  likely  matter  !" 

So  spake,  with  flushed  cheek  and  quivering  lip,  my 
well-intentioned  but  nervous  incumbent,  one  memorable 
Saturday  in  the  month  of  August. 

"Very  well,  Sir,"  was  my  reply;  "you  may  depend 
on  my  heeding  and  recollecting  the  sentiments  of  each 
party." 

"  Would  to  heaven  !" — this  was  an  aside — "  that  these 
Mason  people  had  chosen  some  other  day  than  Saturday 
for  their  conference  !  Neither  sermon  written  !  The 
Lending  Library  accounts  all  in  confusion  ;  Mrs.  Watkin- 
son's  sick  baby  to  baptize  ;  and  two  funerals  in  the  after- 
noon to  a  certainty '" 


THE    ANTI-MASONIC    VICAR.  17 

"They  must  be  cut  short — yes!  very,  very  short!" 
ejaculated  the  vicar  decisively  and  emphatically. 

"  What !  the  sermons  ?"  cried  I,  reverting  at  once  to 
the  topic  uppermost  in  my  own  mind;  "oh  !  very  well. 
Your  views,  Sir,  are  mine.  They  shall  be  shortened  to  a 
certainty." 

"  You  are  dreaming,"  remarked  my  superior  pettishly. 
"  I  allude  to  the  speeches,  the  oratorical  displays,  the 
verbiage  of  these  mystics." 

"  Ah !  precisely  so,"  was  my  dutiful  reply.  "  You, 
Sir,  and  no  other,  hold  the  check  string :  the  length  of 


sons 


the  interview  must  depend  on  your  pleasure.  Ma 
this  was  another  aside — "  I  wish  they  were  all  walled 
up  in  the  Pyramids.  Six :  and  no  tidings !  It  will  be 
midnight  before  I  shall  have  completed  my  preparations 
for  to-morrow." 

"  I  am  not  narrow-minded,"  resumed  Mr.  Gresham, 
fidgeting  fretfully  in  his  chair,  "  far  from  it ;  my  views 
are  liberal  and  enlarged  ;  I  never  by  any  chance  indulge 
in  a  harsh  surmise  touching  any  one  of  my  fellow- 
creatures.  But  these  Mason  people  alarm  me.  They 
have  a  secret ;  there  is  some  extraordinary  bond,  stringent 
and  well  understood,  by  which  they  support  each  other. 
I  look  upon  them  as  little  better  than  conspirators :" — 
then,  after  a  brief  pause- — '■'■in  fact,  they  are  conspira- 
tors !" 

"You  really  think  so?"  said  I,  for  the  first  time  feel- 
ing an  interest  in  the  subject. 

"I  do ;  seriously  and  solemnly,"  said  the  vicar,  with 
an  air  of  the  most  earnest  and  portentous  gravity. 

"  Rat-tat-tat !   Rap,  rap  !" 

"  The  Deputation,  Sir,"  said  the  butler,  bowing  five 
middle-aged  gentlemen  into  the  study. 

For  a  set  of  "  conspirators"  they  were  the  oddest- 
looking  people  imaginable.  There  they  stood,  a  knot  of 
portly,  Irank-featured,  cheerful  men,  upon  whom  the 
cares  of  life  apparently  sat  lightly,  who  greeted  their 
pastor  with  a  smile,  and  seemed  in  high  good  humour 
with  themselves  and  all  around  them.  Nor,  while  I 
curiously  scanned  their  look  and  bearing,  could  I,  for  the 
life  of  ae,  imagine  a  reason  why  men  so  happily  circum 
stanced  should  take  it  into  their  head  to  turn  'plotters.  The 
foremost  of  the  group  I  knew  to  be  a  man  of  wealth.   He 


18  THE    ANTI-MASONIC    VICAR. 

had  "  a  stake,"  and  no  small  one,  in  the  permanent  pros- 
perity of  his  country.  His  next  neighbour  was  a  wine- 
merchant,  with  a  large  and  well-established  connection, 
and  blest  with  a  rising  and  most  promising  family — what 
had  he  to  "conspire"  about?  The  party  a  little  in  the 
background  was  a  Dissenter  of  irreproachable  character, 
and  tenets  strict  even  to  sternness.  Moreover,  on  no 
subject  did  he  dilate,  publicly  as  well  as  privately,  with 
greater  earnestness  and  unction  than  on  the  incalculable 
evils  arising  from  war,  and  the  duty  of  every  Christian 
state,  at  any  sacrifice,  to  avoid  it.  What !  Ae  "  a  con- 
spirator !"  Fronting  the  vicar  was  the  banker  of  our 
little  community.  And  to  him  I  fancied  nothing  would 
be  less  agreeable  than  "  a  run"  upon  his  small  but 
flourishing  firm  in  Quay-street.  And  yet  "  runs"  severe 
— repeated — exhausting  "  runs,"  would  inevitably  result 
from  any  widely-spread  and  successful  conspiracy.  The 
banker's  supporter  was  a  little  mirthful-eyed  man — a 
bachelor — who  held  a  light  and  eligible  appointment 
under  government,  and  looked  as  if  he  had  never  known 
a  care  in  all  his  life.  He  perplexed  me  more  than  all  the 
rest.  He,  of  all  created  beings,  a  conspirator !  Mar- 
vellous ! 

The  spokesman  of  the  party  began  his  story.  He  said 
in  substance  that  a  new  Lodge  being  about  to  be  opened 
within  a  mile  and  half  of  Fairstream,  it  was  the  wish  of 
the  Brethren  (the  more  firmly  to  engraft  on  the  noble 
tree  this  new  Masonic  scion)  to  go  in  procession  to  church, 
and  there  listen  to  a  sermon  from  a  clerical  brother.  In 
this  arrangement  he,  in  the  name  of  the  Lodge,  repre- 
sented by  the  parties  then  in  his  presence,  most  respect- 
mlly  requested  the  vicar's  concurrence. 

That  reverend  personage,  with  a  most  distant  and  for- 
bidding air,  replied,  that  he  could  sanction  no  such  pro- 
ceedings. 

Perplexed  by  this  response,  which  was  equally  un- 
palatable and  unexpected,  the  Deputation,  with  deference, 
demanded  my  incumbent's  I'easons  for  refusal. 

♦'  They  are  many  and  various,"  replied  he  ;  "  but  resolve 
themselves  mainly  into  these  four.  First:  There  is 
nothing  church  about  you ! " 

The  Deputation  stared. 

"  I  repeat,  that  of  Free-masons  as  a  body  the  Church. 


THE    ANTI-MASONIC    VICAR.  19 

knows  nothing.  You  admit  into  your  fellowship  men  of 
all  creeds.  Your  principles  and  intentions  may  be  pure 
and  praiseworthy ;  and  such  I  trust  they  are.  But  the 
Church  is  not  privy  to  them.  The  Church  is  in  ignorance 
respecting  them.  The  Church  does  not  recognize  them. 
And,  therefore,  as  a  ministering  servant  of  the  Church,  I 
must  decline  affording  you  any  countenance  or  support." 

The  banker  here  submitted  to  the  vicar,  that  in  works 
of  charity — in  supporting  an  infirmary,  a  dispensary,  a 
clothing  club,  a  stranger's  friend  society — identity  of 
creed  was  not  essential.  Men  of  different  shades  of 
religious  belief  could  harmoniously  and  advantageously 
combine  in  carrying  out  a  benevolent  project.  And  one 
of  the  leading  principles  of  Free-masonry  was  active,  and 
untiring,  and  widely-spread  benevolence.  Could  success 
crown  any  charitable  project,  any  scheme  of  philan- 
thropy, any  plan  for  succouring  the  suffering  and  the 
necessitous  (the  operation  of  xvhicli  was  to  be  extended,  and 
not  partial),  if  no  assistance  was  accepted  save  from  those 
who  held  one  and  the  same  rehgious  creed  ?  Charity,''^  he 
contended,  "  knew  no  creed.  No  shackles,  forged  by  human 
opinions,  could  or  ought  to  trammel  her.  He  was  no 
friend  to  his  species  who  would  seek  to  impose  them." 

The  vicar  shook  his  head  repeatedly,  in  token  of  vehe- 
ment dissent  from  these  observations,  and  proceeded : — 

"  Next  I  object  to  you  because  you  are  friendly  to 
processions;  and,  I  am  given  to  understand,  purpose 
advancing  to  church  in  long  and  elaborate  array.  All 
processions,  all  emblems,  all  symbols,  I  abominate.  Such 
accessories  are,  in  the  sanctuary,  absolutely  indecent ;  I 
will  not  call  them  unholy  :  I  term  them  downright  pro- 
fane. What  has  a  thinking  being — particularly  when 
proceeding,  for  the  purposes  of  worship,  to  the  temple 
of  his  Creator — what  has  he  to  do  with  processions? 
They  are,  one  and  all,  abominations." 

The  little  placeman  here  briskly  stepped  forv/ard  and 
said,  that  "  in  that  Book,  with  which  he  was  sure  the 
vicar  was  better  acquainted  than  any  one  of  them,  pro- 
cessions were  repeatedly  mentioned,  and  never  con- 
demned. They  occur  in  all  parts  of  the  sacred  volume, 
and  in  a  very  early  portion  of  it.  A  procession  of  no 
ordinary  description  followed  Jacob's  remains  when,  with 
filial   love,  Joseph   brought  them   out  of  Egypt  into 


20  THE    ANTI-MASONIC    VICAR. 

Canaan.  A  procession,  long  and  elaborately  arranged, 
attended  the  removal  of  the  ark  from  its  temporary 
sojourn  in  the  house  of  Obed-Edom.  A  procession,  glo- 
rious and  imposing,  preceded  the  dedication  of  Solomon's 
temple.     A  procession — — " 

"Pray,"  said  the  vicar  sharply,  "do  you  mean  to  con- 
tend that  any  one  of  these  processions  was  at  all  the 
counterpart  of  a  masonic  procession?" 

"  I  do  not ;  I  disclaim  all  such  irreverent  intention," 
returned  the  other,  gravely:  "  my  object  was  simply  to 
shew  that,  by  the  very  highest  authority  which  man 
can  produce,  processions  are  not  forbidden.  Usage  sanc- 
tions their  adoption  among  ourselves.  They  form  a  part 
of  our  most  august  ceremonies.  When  the  peers  present 
an  address  to  the  sovereign  on  his  escape  from  the  hands 
of  an  assassin,  on  the  birth  of  an  heir  to  the  throne,  on 
the  marriage  of  one  of  the  royal  family,  they  repair  to 
the  ro3'^al  presence  in  procession.  At  the  coronation  of 
the  sovereign  one  of  the  most  important  features  in  the 
pageant  is  a  gorgeous  and  lengthened  procession.  That 
procession,  let  me  remind  you.  Sir,  wends  its  way  to  the 
house  of  God,  and  for  the  purposes  of  worship.  It 
enters  the  abbey.  There  divine  service  is  performed  ;  in 
the  course  of  which  the  sovereign  receives  the  crown  and 
takes  an  oath  to  the  people.  These  points  are  pressed 
on  you,  as  pertinent  to  the  subject.  Surely,  after  con- 
sidering them,  you  will  hold  us  blameless  if,  as  Masons, 
we  wish  to  '  Go  up  to  the  house  of  God  in  company ' — 
in  other  words,  'in  procession?'  " 

"Plausible,  but  hollow!"  was  the  vicar's  comment: 
then,  after  a  pause,  "  you  have  failed  to  convince  me.  I 
object  to  you,  strongly,  on  the  score  of  your  processions, 
and  I  object  to  you  still  more  decidedly  on  the  score  of 

your secret.     You  are  a  secret  society;  are  held 

together  by  a  stringent  oath  ;  now  I  hold  that,  wherever 
there  is  mystery,  there  is  iniquity  !" 

"  A  harsh  conclusion,  indeed  !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Walford, 
the  wine-merchant,  who  now  took  part  in  the  discussion; 
"  you  cannot  be  serious  in  maintaining  it  ?  When  you 
assert  secrecy  to  be  criminal,  you  have  forgotten  its  uni- 
versal agency.  It  has  escaped  j\  u  how  largely  it  per- 
vades both  public  and  private  life.  In  every  department 
its  operation  is  traceable.     The  naval  commander  sails 


THE    ANTI-MASONIC    VICAE.  21 

from  his  country's  shores  under  sealed  orders.  He  has 
private  papers  which  contain  his  instructions.  These  he 
is  to  open  in  a  certain  latitude  and  longitude.  Mean- 
while their  import  is  '  secret'  to  him,  and  to  those  who 
serve  under  him.  But  he  accepts  his  trust  unhesitatingly. 
The  '  secrecy '  in  which  his  orders  are  veiled  does  not 
indispose  him  towards  their  fulfilment,  make  him  suspi- 
cious of  their  origin,  doubtful  of  their  necessity,  or  render 
their  faithful  performance  one  whit  less  obligatory  upon 
his  part.  His  duty  is  to  obey. — -Take  another  instance 
— The  cabinet  council  which  deliberates  on  the  interests 
of  this  great  country,  and  advises  the  sovereign  in  mat- 
ters of  policy,  is  sworn  to  secrecy.  No  member  of  it  is 
allowed,  without  distinct  permission  from  the  reigning 
prince,  to  divulge  one  syllabe  of  what  passes  at  its  sit- 
tings. It  is  a  SECRET  conclave.  But  no  one  questions, 
on  that  account,  the  legality  or  propriety  of  its  decisions. 
In  private  life  secrecy  obtains.  In  a  commercial  partner- 
ship there  are  secrets — the  secrets  of  the  firm.  To  them 
each  co-partner  is  privy  ;  but  is  solemnly  bound  not  to 
disclose  them.  In  a  family  there  are  secrets.  In  most 
households  there  are  facts  which  the  heads  of  that  house- 
hold do  not  divulge  to  their  servants,  children,  and  de- 
pendants. Prudence  enjoins  secrecy.  So  that,  in  public 
and  in  private  life,  in  affairs  of  state,  and  in  afiairs  of  com- 
merce, secrecy,  more  or  less,  prevails  ;  why,  then,  should 
it  be  objected  to  the  Free-mason,  that  in  his  order  there 
is  a  secret  which  is  essential  to  the  existence  of  the  fra- 
ternity, and  which  he  his  bound  to  hold  sacred  ?" 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!  An  adroit  evasion  of  a  very  awkward 
accusation!"  cried  the  vicar  with  an  enjoyable  chuckle: 
"who  is  the  general  of  your  Order?  There  must  be 
Jesuits  amongst  ye !  No  argument  from  Stonyhurst 
could  be  more  jesuitically  pointed!"  And  again  the 
vicar  laughed  heartily. 

The  Deputation  did  not  join  him.  They  looked  on  in 
silence.  Perhaps  they  thought  the  refusal  of  the  church 
a  sufficient  annoyance,  without  the  addition  of  the  vicar's 
baniering.  His  pleasantry  was  not  infectious.  Perchance 
they  held  with  the  delinquent  Negro,  in  one  of  our  West 
IiirGa  colonies,  who  was  first  severely  reprimanded,  and 
tlien  soundly  thrashed,  by  his  owner — "  Massa,  massa ; 
no  preachee  too  andfloggee  too!" 


22  THE    ANTI-MASONIC    fICAR. 

At  length  one  of  them,  with  great  gravity,  inquired, 
"  Whether  Mr.  Gresham  had  any  further  objection  to 
urge?" 

"Oh  dear,  yes!     I  am  hostile  to  you,  because  you 

COMBINE." 

The  banker  now  fired  his  broadside. 

"  We  do.  We  are  as  a  city  at  unity  in  itself.  We 
form  a  band  of  united  Brethren,  bound  by  one  solemn 
obligation,  stringent  upon  all,  from  the  highest  to  the 
lowest;  and  the  object  of  our  combination?  boundless 
charity  and  untiring  benevolence.  We  must  be  chaxita- 
ble  and  kindly-aifectioned  to  all ;  but  more  especially  to 
our  Brethren.  With  them  we  are  ever  to  sympathize 
readily,  and  their  necessities  to  succour  cheerfully.  Re- 
spect are  we  to  have  none,  either  as  to  colour,  creed,  or 
country.  And  yet  is  our  charity  to  be  neither  indiscri- 
minate, wasteful,  nor  heedless.  We  are  to  prefer  the 
worthy  Brother,  and  to  reject  the  worthless.  And  our 
warrant  for  so  doing  is  his  command  who  has  said: 
'  Thou  shalt  open  thine  hand  wide  to  thy  brother,  and 
to  thy  poor,  and  to  thy  needy  in  thy  land.'  " 

"  The  latter  remark  none  can  gainsay,"  said  the  vicar 
coldly;  ■'  and  thus,  I  believe,  our  interview  terminates." 

The  Deputation  retired,  desperately  chagrined. 

The  church  was  closed  against  them.  The  new  lodge 
was  opened ;  but  there  was  no  public  procession,  and 
no  sermon.  To  me,  lightly  and  carelessly  as  I  then 
thought  of  the  fraternity,  there  seemed  much  that  was 
inexplicable  in  the  rebuff  which  it  sustained.  Here  was 
Mr.  Grresham,  a  conscientious  and  well-intentioned  man, 
who  lamented,  Sunday  after  Sunday,  the  prevalence  of 
sorrow,  care,  and  suffering  around  him ;  who  spoke,  with 
tears  in  his  eyes,  of  the  apathy  of  the  rich  and  the  endur- 
ance of  the  poor ;  who  deplored  the  selfishness  of  the 
age ;  who  averred,  bitterly  and  repeatedly,  that  "  all 
sought  their  own  " — here  was  he,  withstanding  to  his 
utmost  a  Brotherhood  who  declared — and  none  contra- 
dicted them — that  their  leading  object  was  to  relieve 
distress  and  sorrow.  Of  him  they  seek  an  audience. 
When  gained,  they  use  it  to  request  the  use  of  his  pulpit, 
with  the  view  of  making  their  principles  better  known ; 
of  effacing  some  erroneous  impressions  afloat  respecting 
them  ;  in  other  words,  of  strengthening  their  cause. 


THE    ANTI-MASONIC    VICAR.  23 

That  cause  they  maintain  to  be  identical  with  disin- 
terested henevolence  and  brotherly  love. 

Mr.  Gresham  declares  "  off-"  refuses  them  his  church  ; 
and  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  them!  "  They  may 
solve  the  riddle  who  can,"  said  I,  as,  thoroughly  baffled, 
I  sought  my  pillow.  "  Each  and  all  are  incomprehen- 
sible. I  don't  know  which  party  is  the  most  confound- 
ing;  the  Masons  with  their  well-guarded  secret,  or  Mr. 
Gresham  with  his  insurmountable  prejudices!" 


CHAPTER    IV. 


THE    CURSE    OF    TALENT. 


"  If  you  would  enjoy  happy  anticipations  when  advanced  in  years,  and 
when  your  bosom  is  becoming  dead  to  the  fascinations  of  life,  you  must 
circumscribe  your  thoughts  and  actions  by  the  instruction  of  this  signifi- 
cant emblem.  You  must  keep  within  the  compass,  and  act  upon  the 
square,  with  all  mankind  ;  for  your  Masonry  is  but  a  dead  letter  if  you 
do  not  habitually  perform  its  reiterated  injunctions." — Oliver's  Signs 
and  Symbols. 

We  "Britishers,"  as  Brother  Jonathan  calls  us,  have 
some  rather  comical  notions.  We  hug  ourselves  in  our 
prejudices,  pique  ourselves  upon  our  morality,  and  swell 
with  conscious  superiority  if  religious  observances  or 
social  civilization  be  the  topic  adverted  to.  Touching 
the  Jews — that  mighty,  mysterious,  and  enduring  people 
— how  often  is  the  exclamation  heard— "That  always 
mercenary  and  to  the  last  idolatrous  nation  !"  A  com- 
ment which  comes  with  but  indifferent  grace  from  an 
English  lip,  seeing  that  we  escape  with  marvellous  diffi- 
culty from  the  charge  of  idolatry  ourselves.  Earnest 
worshippers  are  we  of  Mammon  and  Intellect.  To  both 
deities  we  pay  homage  blindly,  recklessly,  madly.  Let 
the  railway  mania  bear  out  the  first  assertion ;  and  the 
caresses  lavished  on  the  witty,  but  the  worthless,  support 
the  other. 

Again  and  again  do  the  heedless  and  the  rash  thus 
reason  : 

"An  unprincipled  fellow!  in  private  life  far  from 
exemplary;  but  as  to  banishing  him  from  one's  table, 
the  idea  is  too  preposterous — the  penalty  would  be  self- 
inflicted — his  conversational  powers  are  of  the  very  first 
order;  and  his  aptness  at  repartee  unrivalled  !" 


THE    CURSE    OF    TALENT.  26 

Or  thus : 

"  That  clever  creature, ,  called  here  this  morn- 
ing. One  must  forget  all  one  hears  about  him.  In 
truth,  much  may  be  pardoned  in  a  man  of  his  intellect !" 

But,  in  sober  earnest,  intellect  is  a  curse — a  heavy  and 
a  frightful  curse — when  the  control  of  principle  and  the 
sanction  of  reason  are  absent. 

Many  years  ago — how  many  I  don't  choose  at  this 
moment  to  remember — I  met  Edmund  Kean  at  the  house 
of  his  early  patron,  Mr.  Nation,  of  Exeter.  Kean  was 
not  then  the  leading  tragedian  at  Drury  Lane — the  pet 
of  Lords  Byron,  Essex,  and  Kinnaird ;  the  idol  of  "  The 
Sub-Committee;"  feted,  followed,  and  flattered;  but  an 
obscure  actor  on  a  paltry  salary  of  a  few  shillings  a  week ; 
struggling  for  a  maintenance  on  the  Exeter  boards ;  valued 
far  more  for  his  fencing  and  dancing  than  for  his  elocution 
and  acting.  His  heels,  not  his  head,  constituted  at  that 
time  of  day  his  recommendation. 

Mr.  Nation,  a  shrewd,  keen,  clever  man — independent 
alike  in  purse  and  feeling ;  whose  delight  it  was  to  foster 
rising  genius ;  who  never  spurned  a  fellow-creature  from 
his  presence  because  he  was  wretchedly  clad,  or  pro- 
nounced an  erring  mortal  irreclaimable  because  the  gos- 
sips ran  him  down — came  to  the  rescue  of  Kean's  fortunes 
with  kindly  and  generous  sympathy,  and  proved  himself, 
when  most  needed,  a  judicious  and  discriminating  friend. 
It  was  in  vain  that  the  old  gentleman's  intimates.  Dr. 
Collins  and  Mr.  Paddon,  rallied  him  upon  his  preposses- 
sion in  favor  of  the  "  little  fencer,"  and  the  confidence 
with  which  he  prophesied  his  future  eminence.  He  was 
firm  in  his  attachments,  and  not  easily  shaken  in  his 
opinions. 

"Once  fairly  before  a  London  audience,  he  will  elec- 
trify the  house !"  was  the  banker's  uniform  reply  to 
various  cavillers. 

"  But  his  voice,"  said  one — "  so  harsh,  so  rough,  so 
rasping." 

"  Musical  and  sweet  in  the  extreme,  particularly  in  the 
earlier  scenes ;  and  so  continues,  till  passion  and  over- 
exertion unduly  strain  it." 

"His  figure,  so  slight,  petit,  and  unimposing! — height 
under  six  feet — a  defect  fatal  to  a  tragedian  !" 

"  Counterbalanced  by  his  eye,  unequalled  for  the  bril- 


26  THE    CURSE    OP    TALENT. 

liancy  and  variet}?^  of  its  expression  since  the  days  of 
Garrick :  him  I  can  remember." 

"  To  Kean's  indisputable  disadvantage,  I  should 
imagine,"  said,  somewhat  flippantly,  an  inconsiderate 
bystander. 

"No,  Sir,"  was  Mr.  Nation's  reply,  "by  no  means; 
and  ere  long  London  critics  will  tell  you  that  Kean  has 
studied  in  Garrick's  school,  and  is  but  slightly  inferior 
to  his  gifted  predecessor." 

"  And  this,"  whispered  the  gentleman  as  he  withdrew, 
"of  that  little,  dark-visaged  man,  one  remove  from  a 
strolling  player.  Good  Mr.  Nation  !  with  some  men 
prejudices  are  passions." 

It  was  not  so  with  him.  Where  he  was  most  in 
earnest  he  was  most  guarded. 

His  advice  to  Kean,  like  the  aid  which  he  rendered 
him,  was  always  delicately  given,  and  opportune.  In 
the  actor's  moments  of  despondency — and  they  were 
many— he  invariably  pointed  to  a  bright  future  ;  cheered 
him  with  auguries  of  future  eminence ;  prophesied  suc- 
cess, and  told  him  that  wealth — not  mere  competence, 
but  afiiuence — lay  before  him.  "And  then,"  added  he, 
"  mind  and  keep  your  elbow  straight  :  you  understand 
me!" 

There  was  ample  need  then,  as  well  as  afterwards,  of 
ohis  caution. 

Miss  Hake — a  little,  quiet,  staid,  orderly  body — a 
feather-dresser — was  Kean's  landlady  at  Exeter.  She 
was  rather  attached  to  him,  much  to  Mrs.  Kean,  and 
still  more  warmly  to  little  Howard,  their  eldest-born ; 
and  bore,  for  his  sake,  with  many  of  his  father's  vagaries. 

But  occasionally  even  her  equanimity  gave  way.  She 
presented  herself  one  morning  in  Southernhay,  her  little 
frame  quivering  with  agitation,  and  "entreated  to  see 
Mr.  Nation,  without  delay,  on  urgent  business."  The 
banker  was  just  recovering  from  a  severe  fit  of  the  gout 
— he  was  a  martyr  to  it — declared  he  was  not  company 
for  ladies,  and  begged  to  decline  the  interview.  Miss 
Hake  persevered ;  and,  when  she  sent  up  a  second  mes- 
sage, to  the  effect  that  her  business  related  to  Mr.  Kean, 
the  invalid  at  once  adjusted  his  wig,  declared  that  "  the 
lady's  wishes  were  commands,"  and  became  at  once  sub- 
missive.    The  little  feather-dresser,  on  being  admitted, 


THE    CURSE    OF    TALENT.  27 

gave  way  to  a  torrent  of  tears ;  and,  when  her  agitation 
permitted  her  to  articulate,  declared  that  "Mr.  Kean 
was  missing!"  He  had  come  home,  she  averred,  from 
the  theatre,  terribly  out  of  sorts ;  some  remark,  hastily 
made,  had  increased  his  displeasure ;  he  had  then  com- 
mitted the  most  horrible  devastation  upon  her  furniture 
and  moveables  ;  and  had  taken  himself  off,  no  one  knew 
whither. 

"How  long  has  he  been  absent?"  asked  Mr.  Nation, 
somewhat  anxiously. 

"Upwards  of  eight-and-forty  hours." 

"  Oh  !"  returned  the  oracle,  confidently,  "  he  will  re- 
turn. It  is  his  habit  to  start  off  in  this  manner  when 
offended.  His  predilection  for  a  ramble  is  notorious; 
particularly  on  one  of  his  Satan  days.  Be  calm,  Madam, 
he  will  be  with  you  before  sunset." 

"  Oh  !  but" — sobbed  Miss  Hake — "  my  house  !  my 
house  !  I  don't  care  about  my  furniture.  But  my  house  ! 
The  character  of  my  house  !  Oh  that  I  should  have  lived 
to  have  had  an  uproar  in  My  house  at  twenty  minutes 
past  midnight.  Think  of  this,  Mr.  Nation  :  twenty  min- 
utes past  midnight !" 

"  That's  somewhere  about  the  hour  that  rows  generally 
commence,"  said  the  gouty  gentleman,  quietly. 

"Oh,  Sir,  don't  be  jocular!"  cried  Miss  Hake,  in  an 
agony  for  her  reputation  :  "  Ladies  of  the  very  first 
fashion  visit  my  quiet  dwelling — quiet,  indeed,  it  no 
longer  is — relative  to  their  feathers  and  their  trimmings. 
What  will  Lady  Elizabeth  Palk  say,  when  she  hears  that 
there  has  been  a  perfect  hurricane  in  my  dwelling,  at 
twenty  minutes  past  midnight  ?  And  my  Lady  Mallet 
Vaughan,  who  is  known  to  be  so  particular.  What  will 
she  say  ?  What  will  she  think  ?  Oh !  I'm  a  ruined 
woman!     Oh!  oh!  oh!" 

"  I'll  stake  my  credit  upon  the  issue  that  neither  of 
their  Ladyships  will  ever  hear  one  syllable  on  the  sub- 
ject," rejoined  the  gentleman  bluntly. 

Miss  Hake  was  still  far  from  appeased. 

"Counsel  me,  Mr.  Nation,  pray,  counsel  me!"  cried 
she. 

"I  will:  and  my  advice  shall  consist  of  four  words; 
'  Be  silent  and  quiescent :'  follow  this,  and  all  will  be 
well." 


28  THE    CURSE    OF    TALENT. 

"  Ah  !  but  my  feelings  are  wounded — deeply  wounded 
— grievously  wounded." 

"I  have  a  plaster,  Madam,  that  has  been  very  efficaci- 
ous in  such  cases.  Indeed,  I  have  never  known  it  to 
fail."  This  was  uttered  with  a  dash  of  sarcasm ;  a  con- 
versational weapon  in  which  he  excelled.  "  Its  healing 
powers  are  remarkable,  and  acknowledged  by  all  ranks." 
Thus  saying,  he  drew  from  a  small  shagreen  case  a  soiled 
piece  of  paper — one  of  his  own  one-pound  notes ;  such 
were  current  in  those  days — and  handed  it  to  his  visitor. 
"  Give  it  a  trial,  Madam.  Its  soothing  powers  are  highly 
spoken  of." 

The  little  feather-dresser  smiled,  sighed,  curtsied, 
opened  her  hand,  closed  it,  and  withdrew. 

"  There's  somewhat  too  much  of  the  devil  about 
Teddy,"  soliloquized  the  banker  as  the  door  closed  upon 
his  lady  visitor ;  "  but  he  is  not  to  be  '  whistled  down  the 
wind,'  and  abandoned  as  incorrigible,  for  all  that!" 

The  after-career  of  this  gifted  but  unmanageable  artist 
is  almost  too  painful  to  dwell  upon.  Opulence,  influence, 
independence,  all  were  within  his  reach ;  and  all  passed, 
by  his  own  acts,  from  his  grasp.  It  has  been  accurately 
ascertained  that,  during  his  successful  career,  no  less  a 
sum  than  ninety  thousand  pounds  was  paid  into  Kean's 
hands.  Of  this  large  amount,  when  disease,  infirmity, 
and  physical  decaj^  came  on,  what  trace  remained  ? 

His  early  friend  in  Southernhay  survived  to  witness  his 
triumph  ;  was  present  at  his  enthusiastic  reception,  as 
THE  GREAT  TRAGEDIAN,  by  crowdcd  audicuces,  on  those 
very  boards  where,  a  few  months  previously,  public  sup- 
port had  barely  kept  him  from  starvation. 

"Ah!  well!"  was  the  characteristic  comment  uttered 
as  the  curtain  fell,  amidst  reiterated  rounds  of  applause, 
waving  of  handkerchiefs,  and  shouts  of  "  Bravo  !" — "  We 
have  reached  the  topmost  round  of  the  ladder ;  all  we 
now  want  is  a  steady  hand  and  a  straight  elbow P'' 

The  speaker  was  Mr.  Nation ;  and  the  comment 
shewed  his  correct  estimate  of  Kean's  dangers  and 
besetting  sin. 

His  days  closed  gloomily  and  sadly.  True,  he  was 
abandoned  by  those  who  would  gladly  have  done  life- 
long homage  to  his  genius ;  but  had  he  not  previously 
severed  himself,  virtually,  from  reputable  society  ?   There 


THE    CURSE    OF    TALENT.  29 

are  those  who  maintain  that  "  every  thing  is  to  be  forgiven 
to  a  man  of  talent."  If  this  dogma — a  most  pernicious 
one  for  society — is  to  be  held  good,  Kean  is  undoubtedly 
to  be  pitied,  as  an  injured  and  ill-used  man.  Let  us  pass 
from  this  sad  topic.  It  points  but  to  one  conclusion: 
that  genius,  unregulated,  unchecked,  and  uncontrolled, 
is  one  of  the  greatest  and  heaviest  curses  with  which 
frail  humanity  can  be  visited. 

Contemporary  with  Kean,  at  Exeter,  was  another  spirit 
on  whom  genius,  lofty  and  indisputable,  lighted — Mr. 
Nation's  pastor  and  personal  friend — Dr.  Lant  Carpenter. 
He  filled  the  post  afterwards  occupied  by  the  benevolent 
and  universally  beloved  Mr.  Manning.  Dr.  Carpenter's 
views  were  Unitarian.  But  though  differing  widely  as  to 
religious  sentiments,  that  circumstance  will  never  indis- 
pose me  to  the  attempt  of  doing  justice  to  the  acquire- 
ments of  a  learned,  and  the  social  excellencies  of  a  most 
amiable,  man.  At  the  period  I  remember  him  he  was 
giving  at  his  chapel  a  series  of  elaborate  lectures  on 
doctrinal  views.  One,  written  with  peculiar  point  and 
polish,  treated  "  Of  the  Sorrows  of  the  Lost."  These, 
he  held,  were  not  eternal. 

"I  never  like  him  so  little,"  exclaimed  the  banker, 
bluntly,  "  as  when  he  dwells  on  these  difficult  doctrinal 
points." 

"  He  never  appears  to  such  slight  advantage,"  mur- 
]nured  a  sweet  voice  at  his  side.  It  was  that  of  his 
daughter — afterwards  Mrs.  Adams — lost,  alas !  too  early 
to  her  family,  and  to  the  many  who  loved  and  lamented 
her, 

"  He  will  be  here  this  evening,"  continued  Mr.  Nation; 
"  and  if  a  fair  opportunity  present  itself,  I  shall  be  tempted 
to  refer  to  the  subject." 

Dr.  Carpenter  did  call,  and  his  views  were  adroitly 
adverted  to.  Far  from  shunning  the  topic,  he  seemed 
well  pleased  to  discuss  it  anew.  He  maintained,  in  elo- 
quent terms,  his  opinions,  as  to  the  individuality  of  the 
soul.  He  avowed  his  fixed  persuasion  that  all  the  myriads 
of  human  beings  who  ever  lived  and  moved  upon  this 
earth,  still  lived,  and  were  at  that  very  moment  in  exist- 
ence, all  together.  The  old  world,  he  maintained,  still 
lived.  "All  of  whom  we  read  in  the  Old  Testament  as 
having  perished  by  famine,  by  pestilence,  by  the  sword. 


30  THE    CURSE    OF    TALENT. 

still  live.  No  soul  can  be  swept  away*  It  is  still 
existent." 

"  In  a  distinct  and  separate  place?" 

"  Unquestionably  !  Each  soul  is  reserved  by  its  Mighty 
Guardian  for  separate  and  distinct  award." 

"  Where  ?"  was  the  inquiry  uttered  by  more  than  one 
of  his  auditory. 

"  That  we  are  not  permitted  to  know." 

The  old  gentleman  paused  for  some  minutes  after  his 
pastor  left  him.  Then^  addressing  his  daughter,  he 
remarked — 

"  Those  views  of  Dr.  Carpenter  seem  to  me  to  favour 
the  doctrine  of  purgatory." 

"  Oh!"  returned  his  hearer  with  earnestness,  "  that  we 
heard  less  about  doctrine  and  more  about  duty  j  and  that 
he  who  is  so  exemplary  and  forbearing,  himself,  in  his 
own  life  and  conversation,  would  tell  us  more  of  what 
we  owe  to  the  Great  Ruler  above,  and  our  fellow-men 
around  us." 

Her  father  signified  his  assent. 

"  I  never  knew  any  man  the  better  for  controversy," 
added  he ;  "but  can  recollect  many  minds  which  have 
been  unhinged  by  it.  It  will  be  well,  should  this  line  of 
preaching  be  proceeded  with,  if  the  Doctor's  name  be  not 
added  to  the  mournful  catalogue." 

Years  afterwards  this  apprehension  was  fulfilled.  The 
well-stored  brain  yielded  to  the  ceaseless  demands  made 
upon  its  powers.  The  Doctor  became  insane.  Travel 
and  change  of  scene  were  prescribed.  The  invalid  visited 
Switzerland  and  Italy ,  and,  in  the  spring  of  1840,  was 
drowned  on  his  voyage  to  Leghorn.  Whether  an  acci- 
dental lurch  of  the  vessel  sent  him  overboard,  or  whether, 
in  the  phrensy  of  disease,  he  committed  self-destruction, 
none  can  tell.  He  perished  without  other  witness  save 
the  Infinite  and  the  Eternal. 

And  thus  that  gentle,  benevolent,  tolerant  being  passed 
from  this  lower  world. 

Oh  !  Genius !  is  thy  possession  to  be  coveted  when  thy 
purchase  is  made  at  so  dear  a  cost? 


CHAPTER   V. 


CANNING    IN    KETIREMENT. 


"  To  exhort  to  sacrifices — to  stimulate  to  exertion — to  shame  despond- 
ency— to  divert  from  untimely  concession — are  stern  but  needful  duties 
to  be  discharged  in  gloomy  times." — Burke. 

"  He  knew  nothing  of  that  timid  and  wavering  cast  of  mind,  which 
dares  not  abide  by  its  own  decision." — Lord  Brougham. 

"  It  is  a  severe  but  salutary  lesson  for  human  vanity  to  observe  the 
venom  which  party  spirit  can  scatter  over  the  aims  and  intentions  of 
eminent  men.  The  actions  of  the  best  and  most  highly  gifted  of  our  race, 
when  viewed  in  the  mirror  of  party-feeling,  become  instantly  distorted. 
Conciliation  is  called  cowardice  ;  courtesy  is  termed  hypocrisy  ;  high  and 
unbending  principle  is  pronounced  pride  ;  and  religious  feeling  branded 
as  cant.  No  epithet  is  deemed  too  bitter — no  insinuation  too  base.  By 
his  own  party  the  minister  of  the  day  is  viewed  as  a  demi-god  ;  by  his 
opponents  as  a  demon." 

"I  WAS  present,"  writes  Mr.  Hastings  to  a  friend, 
"  and  heard  Sheridan's  analysis  of  my  character,  inquisi- 
tion of  my  motives,  and  condemnation  of  my  government. 
For  the  moment,  I  thought  myself  unworthy  of  the 
name  of  man,  and  that  "  monster  "  ought  to  be  my  future 
design  ition.  The  delusion  lasted  not  long.  The  impres- 
sion produced  by  this  splendid  instance  of  the  perversion 
of  oratory  gave  way  before  the  response  of  conscience ; 
and 

'  Oonscia  mens  recti  temnit  mendacia  lingtue.' " 

•Some  few  years  elapsed,  and  the  whole  House  of  Com- 
mons rose  as  a  tribute  of  involuntary  respect  to  this  very 
man  upon  his  entering  that  august  assembly  to  give  evi- 
dence upon  some  disputed  question  ! 

Of  Lord  North,  Junius  writes,  "  I  will  now  leave  you, 
my  lord,  to  that  mature  insensibility  which  is  only  to  be 
acquired  by  steady  perseverance  in  infamy.  Every  prin- 
ciple of  conscience  you  have  long  ago  been  hardy  enough 
to  discards" 


32  CANNING    IN    RETIREMENT. 

Of  the  same  statesman  another  and  very  competent 
authority^  affirms :  "  Lord  North  was  a  man  of  public 
ability,  the  delight  of  every  private  society  which  he 
honoured  with  his  presence,  second  to  none  in  conduct- 
ing the  debate,  possessed  of  an  inexhaustible  fund  of 
pleasantry,  and  of  a  temper  the  last  to  be  ruffled,  and 
the  first  to  be  appeased." 

The  malevolence  of  party,  Canning  did  not  escape. 
The  author  of  the  celebrated  suppressed  letter,  thus 
opened  his  attack  upon  him  : — 

"  I  shall  address  you  without  ceremony,  for  you  are 
deserving  of  none.  There  is  nothing  in  your  station,  in 
your  abilities,  or  in  your  character,  which  entitles  you  to 
respect.  The  first  is  too  often  the  reward  of  political, 
and  frequently  of  private  crimes.  The  decency  of  your 
character  consists  in  its  entire  conformity  to  the  original 
conception  formed  of  you  in  early  life.  It  has  borrowed 
nothing  from  station,  nothing  from  experience.  It  be- 
comes you.)  and  vi'ould  disgrace  anij  other  manr 

These  are  harsh  and  ungrateful  assertions.  They  are 
worse  than  this — they  are  unjust.  In  private  life,  Mr. 
Canning  was  as  exemplary  as  in  social  intercourse  he  was 
delightful.  As  a  son,  his  care  for  his  widowed  parent — 
the  provision  which  he  made  for  her  by  a  transfer  of  the 
pension  tendered  him  for  his  public  services — his  affec- 
tionate attention  to  her  wishes  during  the  busiest  and 
most  successful  portion  of  his  intoxicating  career — the 
long  weekly  letter  which  he  wrote  to  her,  according  to 
an  early  promise — a  promise  never  broken  even  in  the 
most  anxious  and  stormy  period  of  his  life — prove  his  to 
have  been  a  heart  alive  to  the  noblest  impulses  of  our 
nature.  But  more  than  this  :  to  the  sentiment  of  filial 
affection,  which  he  preserved  unimpaired  throughout  the 
whole  course  of  his  advancement,  he  delighted  to  do 
homage  in  others.  Two  days  before  his  departure  for 
Chiswick,  whence  he  never  returned,  he  sent  for  a  young 
man  whom  he  had  heard  favourably  spoken  of,  and  who, 
he  learnt  upon  inquiry,  had  for  years  supported  a  para- 
ytic  mother  and  idiot  sister. 

"  I  have  requested  to  see  you,  Mr.- — — ,"  was  his  open- 
ing address,  when  the  young  man,  in  utter  ignorance  of 

'  Professor  Smytbe, 


CANNING    IN    RETIREMEiVT.  33 

his  intentions,  presented  himself  at  the  premier's  resi- 
dence, "  in  the  hope  you  may  be  able  to  tell  me  how  I 
can  serve  you." 

A  vague  and  not  very  intelligible  reply  was  confusedly 
given. 

"  Then,  perhaps,  you  v^^ill  allow  me  to  make  a  sugges- 
tion? Would  such  a  situation,"  naming  one,  "  be  at  all 
compatible  with  your  views?" 

It  was  cordially  and  thankfully  accepted. 

"  The  appointment  will  be  made  out  to-morrow.  I 
give  it  you  entirely  from  respect.  I  admire  your  abilities 
much,  but  I  honour  your  devotion  to  your  family  still 
more." 

This  feeling,  so  identified  with  his  character,  many  of 
his  political  antagonists  were  unable  to  understand. 
Some  of  them  were  even  base  enough  to  make  it  an 
object  of  attack,  and  sought  to  wound  him  through  his 
filial  affection.  His  sensitiveness,  on  this  point,  was  pecu- 
liar. Any  unfeeling  allusion  to  Mrs.  Hunn  galled  him  to 
the  quick.  No  attack  did  he  resent  so  fiercely.  For  one 
who  did  not  on  occasion  spare  others,  his  temperament  was 
singularly  irritable.  The  point  of  indifference  was  never 
reached  by  him.  He  was  never  able  to  conceal  that 
sensitiveness  to  political  attacks  which  their  frequent 
occurrence  wears  out  in  most  English  politicians. 

The  period  which  he  spent  at  Hinckley,  during  the 
interval  which  elapsed  between  his  retirement  from  office 
after  the  duel  with  Lord  Castlereagh,  and  his  entrance 
upon  the  Lisbon  embassy,  was  a  remarkable  epoch  in  his 
life.  It  was  with  him  undoubtedly  a  season  of  compara- 
tive seclusion ;  but  it  was  one  also  of  great  and  success- 
ful preparation.  He  lived  at  Burbach,  a  little  village, 
distant  about  a  mile  from  the  town,  which  he  had  sought 
mainly  for  the  benefit  of  his  eldest  son,  whose  health  was 
in  a  most  precarious  condition,  and  whom  he  had  placed, 
under  the  care  of  the  well-known  Mr.  Cheshyre. 

This  son — he  died  at  the  age  of  nineteen,  and  Mr. 
Canning's  tribute  to  his  memory  is  the  most  touching  of 
all  his  writings — was  a  youth  of  remarkable  promise,  and 
indescribably  dear  to  his  father.  He  was  indisputably 
his  favourite  child.  In  all  his  plans  for  the  future,  in 
all  his  visions  of  ambition,  this  son  occupied  a  foremost 
place.     He  was  an  embryo  statesman.     His  genius,  dis- 


34  CANNING    IN    RETIREMENT. 

cernraent,  quickness,  and  judgment,  were  topics  on 
which  Canning  delighted  to  dwell.  The  opinions  and 
expectations  which  his  father  had  formed  of  him  may  be 
gathered  from  this  single  fact,  ^  that  whenever  he  had 
spoken  at  any  length,  in  Parliament,  the  best  and  fullest 
report  of  the  speech  was  sent  down  forthwith  to  George, 
who  was  required  to  write  his  father  an  elaborate  and 
lengthened  criticism  upon  it,  pointing  out  where  it  was 
forcible  and  where  it  was  defective,  where  the  language 
was  happy,  and  where  it  was  common-place— and  dis- 
tinguishing between  what  was  mere  declamation,  and 
what  solid  argument. 

"  Can  I  think  too  highly  of  that  child  ?"  was  the  remark 
addressed  by  Canning  on  one  occasion  to  his  son's  tutor, 
Mr.  Hay. 

"  You  not  only  can,  but  do,"  was  the  honest  and 
unhesitating  reply.  "Your  second  son  is  but  little 
inferior  to  him  in  point  of  capacity ;  and,  after  all,  it 
may  be  that  this  infant" — pointing  to  Charles,  who  was 
born  at  Burbach — "may  be  the  child  destined  to  carry 
down  to  the  succeeding  generation  your  name  and 
honours." 

"J  am  'persuaded  lie  will  not,''^  was  Canning's  quick 
rejoinder.  He  was  wrong.  The  random  remark  has 
proved  prophetic.  Captain  Canning's  career  closed  early ; 
and  upon  Charles,  the  infant  adverted  to  and  scarcely 
noticed,  have  devolved  the  honour  of  his  name  and  the 
associations  it  recalls. 

With  the  exception  of  his  struggles  in  early  life,  Can- 
ning's residence  at  Hinckley  extended  over  one  of  the 
most  gloomy  periods  of  his  life.  Retirement  from  office,- 
under  circumstances  of  painful  notoriety,  had  been  the 
result  of  his  duel  with  Lord  Castlereagh.  Early  in  May, 
1812,  Mr.  Percival  was  shot  by  Bellingham.  The  Prince 
Regent  then  laid  his  commands  on  Lord  Wellesley  and 
Mr.  Canning  to  form  an  administration.  The  project 
failed.  The  task  was  then  intrusted  to  Lord  Liverpool, 
who  strongly  urged  Canning  to  join  him  ;  and  such  was 
the  anxiety  of  the  existing  administration  to  secure  his 
services,  that  the  Foreign  Office  was  offered  him — Lord 
Castlereagh  being  a  consenting  party  to  an  arrangement 
which  would  leave  it  open  to  Mr.  Canning's  acceptance. 
This  tempting  proposal  was  firmly  negatived,  solely  upon 


CANNING    n\    RETIREMENT.  36 

conscientious  grounds.  It  was  understood  that  the  ad- 
ministration was  pledged,  as  such,  to  oppose  Catholic 
Emancipation.  To  this  compact  Canning  declined  being 
a  party — and  thus,  while  he  preserved  his  consistency, 
and  shewed,  by  the  costly  sacrifice  which  it  entailed,  the 
sincerity  of  his  desire  to  carry  the  Catholic  question,  he 
lost  the  opportunity  of  presiding  over  the  foreign  rela- 
tions of  the  country,  at  a  period  when  "  events  crowded 
into  a  few  years  the  changes  and  revolutions  of  an  age." 

But  this  interval,  though  spent  in  retirement,  was 
fraught  with  preparation.  There  is  a  walk,  as  beautiful 
as  it  is  secluded,  stretching  from  Burbach  towards  the 
village  of  Stoke  Golding,  known  as  Canning's  Walk. 
Along  this  he  was  seen,  morning  after  morning,  wending 
his  way,  always  alone,  absorbed  in  thought,  and  not 
unfrequently  thinking  aloud.  He  invariably  declined 
having  a  companion  for  his  walk,  disliked  amazingly 
being  interrupted  in  the  progress  of  it,  and  to  any  chance 
salutation  by  the  way,  his  invariable  reply  was  a  silent  bow. 

It  was  his  hour  of  study.  He  was  then  forging  weap- 
ons for  the  coming  fight,  inspecting  his  stores,  and  polish- 
ing his  armory.  No  weather  deterred  him.  Through 
shower  and  sunshine  he  paced  rapidly  on.  What  subjects 
might  not  these  long  silent  walks  embrace !  In  them 
how  many  a  topic,  argument,  simile,  invective,  rebuke, 
was  deliberately  sought  out  and  carefully  laid  up!  Of 
the  exquisite  and  elaborate  finish  bestowed  on  many  of 
his  lengthened  speeches,  who  shall  say  how  much  may 
be  traced  to  the  severe  scrutiny  and  repeated  revision  of 
his  solitary  rambles !  The  music  of  his  periods,  the  easy 
flowing  language  with  which  he  rounded  the  most  un- 
manageable details,  the  remark  of  caustic  irony,  and  the 
flash  of  cutting  sarcasm,  the  epigrammatic  point  of  a 
crushing  reply,  when  a  word  more  or  less  would  have 
marred  its  force, — these  are  excellences  which  could  not 
have  been  attained,  in  the  perfection  to  which  he  wrought 
them,  without  long  and  severe  study.  Was  this  his 
workshop  ? 

About  a  mile  and  a  half  from  Burbach  stands  an  old 
hall  to  which  some  interest  attaches  as  being  the 
residence  which  peculiarly  attracted  Canning's  attention, 
and  which  he  was  most  desirous  to  purchase  as  "an 
asylum  for  his  old  age.^''     Alas  \ 


36  CANNING    IN    KETIREMENT. 

The  offers  which  he  made  to  induce  the  infataated 
possessor  to  part  with  it  were  far  beyond  its  value,  and 
can  be  justified  only  by  the  extraordinary  predilection 
which  Mr.  Canning  had  conceived  for  it.  The  more  you 
examine  Wykin  Hall,  the  greater  difficulty  you  experience 
in  discovering  its  attractions  for  the  statesman.  It  is  a 
quaint  old  building  in  the  Elizabethan  style,  with  huge 
and  somewhat  unshapely  wings,  much  dilapidated  by 
time,  and,  when  I  saw  it,  rapidly  sinking  to  decay  from 
continued  and  undeserved  neglect.  It  stands  close  upon 
the  horse-road  leading  to  Stoke  Golding,  in  an  exposed 
and  rather  bleak  situation.  On  each  side  of  the  principal 
entrance  are  two  yew  trees  of  prodigious  growth  and 
great  age,  which  throw  a  sombre  air  over  the  building, 
and  materially  darken  the  lower  rooms.  A  plantation 
rises  on  one  side,  and  some  unsightly  farm-buildings  on 
the  other.  In  the  background  is  the  straggling,  filthy, 
poaching  village  of  Stoke  Golding,  perched  on  the  sum- 
mit of  a  high  hill,  topped  with  its  handsome  church  and 
splendid  spire.  In  the  foreground  is  a  home  view  of 
rich  pasture  land,  skirted  to  the  left  by  Burbach  Wood, 
and  embracing  to  the  right  the  town  of  Hinckley,  its 
parish  church  and  tapering  spire. 

Wykin  Hall  is  now  a  farm-house;  the  little  lawn 
before  the  principal  entrance  is  converted  into  a  fold- 
yard.  Poultry  ravage  the  pleasure-garden — weeds  flour- 
ish ad  libitum,  in  the  plantation — the  litter  of  a  large  farm 
is  scattered  thickly  around  the  premises ;  and  not  one 
feature  does  it  present,  within  or  without,  to  corroborate 
tho  fact  that  it  was  once  the  coveted  residence  of  one  of 
the  most  accomplished  of  British  statesmen. 

The  passion  for  farming  cherished  by  Mrs.  Canning  at 
that  period,  might,  in  some  degree,  account  for  his  wish 
to  purchase  Wykin.  Some  valuable  grazing  land  was 
attached  to  it ;  and  a  dairy,  not  in  theory,  but  in  practice, 
was  then  that  lady's  hobby.  Some  very  pleasant  and 
good-natured  stories  are  current  of  her  devotion  to  her 
calling,  while  the  fit  lasted — of  her  anxiety  respecting 
the  produce  of  her  dairy — her  quickness  in  calculating 
her  gains,  and  her  shrewdness  in  baffling  the  cunning  of 
those  who,  on  more  than  one  occasion,  sought  to  make 
her  their  dupe. 

"  She  had  a  brave  tongue  and  a  clear  head,  had  that 


CANNING    IN    RETIREMENT.  37 

Madam  Canning,"  said  an  old  yeoman  to  me.  "  The 
ways  of  Providence  are  inscrutable :  but  I've  aye  thought 
to  mysel  while  I've  been  listening  to  her,  that  the  bonni- 
est farmer's  wife  in  all  Leicestershire  had  been  spoiled 
by  making  a  lady  on  her!" 

Canning's  readiness  as  a  parliamentary  debater  is  now 
matter  of  history.  In  reply,  he  stood  confessedly  with- 
out a  rival.  His  quickness  in  detecting  and  instantly 
fastening  upon  a  broken  link  in  his  opponent's  argument 
— his  skill  in  unveiling  a  specious  sophistry,  or  exposing 
a  plausible  fallacy,  have  once  and  again  drawn  forth  the 
involuntary  cheers,  even  of  those  who  eschewed  his 
political  creed.  One  peculiarity  he  possessed,  which  is 
but  partially  known — his  thorough  remembrance  of  a  voice, 
and  his  ability  of  connecting  it,  at  any  interval  of  time, 
with  the  party  to  whom  it  belonged.  More  than  one 
instance  of  this  faculty  is  remembered  at  Hinckley. 

He  was  dining  with  a  large  party  at  Mr.  Cheshyre's, 
the  medical  gentleman  before  referred  to,  when  a  note 
was  brought  in  and  handed  to  the  host,  with  an 
intimation  that  the  bearer  begged  to  see  him  for  five 
minutes. 

Mr.  C.  left  his  party  with  reluctance,  and  was  absent 
some  time.  When  he  returned,  he  prefaced  his  lengthy 
apologies  by  observing,  he  "  had  been  detained  by  one 
of  the  most  remarkable  men  of  the  day;"  that  the  gen- 
tleman "  was  by  accident  passing  through  Hinckley,  and 
could  not  pause  on  his  route;"  that  he  "purposed  placing 
one  of  his  family  under  his  (Mr.  Cheshyre's)  care;"  and. 
that  "  he  (Mr.  C.)  was  obliged  to  listen  to  all  his  ar- 
rangements." 

"  I  will  name  him,"  said  Canning,  gaily,  "  and  then 
drinli  his  health." 

"The  latter  point  may  be  very  easily  managed ;  but 
the  former  will,  I  believe,  baffle  even  your  acuteness,  Mr. 
Canning." 

This  was  said  with  some  degree  of  tartness ;  for  among 
other  affectations  which  the  wealthy  quack  indulged  in, 
was  that  of  profound  mystery  with  respect  to  the  most 
trivial  occurrences. 

"  Your  visitor,  sir,  was  Wilberforce,"  said  Canning, 
stoutly. 

"How  could  you  possibly  discover  that?"  cried  his 


38  CANNING    IN    RETIREMENT. 

annoyed  host.  "  We  conversed  with  closed  doors — he 
sent  in  no  card — as  we  parted,  he  spoke  but  five  words." 

"  Of  which  I  heard  but  two." 

"What  were  they?" 

"Conventional  arrangement,"  said  Canning,  imitating 
Wilberforce's  distinct  enunciation,  and  dwelling  on  each 
separate  syllable.  "  I  needed  nothing  more  to  tell  me 
that  the  man  with  the  magic  voice  was  hovering  near 
us." 

Within  a  few  months  after  this  conversation,  Sir  Evan 
Nepean  passed  through  Hinckley;  he  was  proceeding  to 
Holyhead,  on  some  government  business  connected  with 
the  Transport  Board,  which  admitted  of  no  delay:  and 
so  rapid  were  his  movements,  and  so  anxious  was  he  to 
arrive  at  his  destination,  that,  though  a  part  of  his  family 
was  at  Hinckley  under  Mr.  Cheshyre's  care,  he  hurried 
through  the  town  without  even  apprising  them  of  his 
presence. 

While  changing  horses  at  the  inn,  he  inquired  the 
distance  to  the  next  stage.  These  were  the  only  words 
he  uttered.  Canning  was  returning  from  his  ride  at  the 
moment — heard  the  inquiry,  and  said  to  Sir  Evan's  family, 
the  next  morning  : — "  I  am  happy  to  tell  you  Nepean  is 
is  well — he  passed  through  Hinckley  last  evening— his 
features  in  the  twilight  I  was  unable  to  recognize — his 
voice  I  did  distinctly." 

Their  astonishment  may  be  conceived.  It  bordered  on 
incredulity.  But,  on  inquiry,  they  found  Mr.  Canning's 
assertion  borne  out  by  the  fact,  that  on  that  day  and  hour 
their  relative  had  hurried  through  Hinckley  on  his  route 
to  Ireland. 

This  faculty  seems  to  have  remained  unimpaired  to 
the  close  of  life.  On  the  evening  preceding  his,  last 
appearance  in  the  House  of  Commons,  a  foreigner  met 
him  in  the  lobby,  and  bowing,  expressed  his  "pleasure 
at  seeing  him  look  so  well." 

'Twas  an  idle  compliment.  Fatigue,  anxiety,  and 
party-feeling  were  killing  him  hourly. 

He  acknowledged  the  intended  civility  with  his  usual 
courtesy,  and  adding,  he  "  hoped  his  lady  and  son  were 
better,"  moved  away. 

The  foreigner  ran  after  him  and  said :  "  Curiosity  in- 
duces me  to  ask  whether  vou  know  me?" 


CANNING    IN    RETIREMENT.  39 

"  Your  voice  I  recognize,  not  your  person  :  you  are 

Mr. .    We  last  met  in  Lisbon  in  the  year  1815.     I 

saw  you  under  circumstances  of  great  distress," 

"  Once!  and  for  a  few  minutes  only  /" 

"  Your  wife  and  son  were  pronunced  to  be  dying — I 
am  truly  happy  to  learn  they  are  still  preserved  to  you. 
Good  night,  Sir." 

"  What  a  most  extraordinary  man  !"  said  the  gratified 
foreigner  as,  turning  away  from  him  with  another  and 
still  more  profound  obeisance,  he  rejoined  his  compa- 
nion, and  fellow-countryman — "What  a  wonderful  me- 
mory, to  remember  such  an  obscure  individual  as  myself, 
after  so  long  an  interval — and  not  only  myself,  but  the 
very  circumstances  under  the  pressure  of  which  his 
kindly  sympathy  cheered  and  consoled  me." 

These  are  trifles,  I  admit ;  but  trifles  often  index  the 
character  of  the  man.  And  his  has  not  yet  received  that 
measure  of  justice  which  it  merits  from  those  to  whom 
he  adhered  in  either  fortune,  and  with  whom  he  won  the 
triumph — the  triumph  of  reason  over  rashness, — of 
sound  principles  over  doctrines  dangerous  and  pernicious, 
— of  our  ancient  laws  and  glorious  constitution  over 
revolutionary  madness  and  Jacobin  innovation.  In  a 
word,  were  I  to  describe  his  character  briefly,  I  should 
say  with  the  ancient  historian,  that  he  was  "  Vita  inno- 
centissimus,  ingenio  florentissimus,  proposito  sanctissi- 
mus." 

And  He,  be  it  remembered,  was  a  Mason.  We  can 
point  to  this  affectionate  and  dutiful  son — to  this  watch- 
ful and  devoted  husband — to  the  successful  debater — 
to  the  trusted  and  idolized  chief — and  claim  him  as  a 
brother. 

This  is  not  assertion,  but  fact. 

George  Canning,  Esq.,  M.  P.,  initiated  and  passed  on 
the  30th  of  April,  1810,  in  the  Somerset  House  Lodge, 
by  the  Right  Hon.  the  Earl  of  Mountnorris,  W.  M. 
Proposed  by  the  Earl  of  Mountnorris. 


CHAPTER    VI. 


A    LITERARY    SOIREE. 


"  Small  is  the  rest  of  those  who  would  be  smart, 

A  moment's  good  thing  may  have  cost  them  years 
Before  they  find  an  hour  to  introduce  it, 
And  then,  even  tlien,  some  bore  may  make  them  lose  it." 

Lord  Btron. 

Amid  the  smoke  and  dirt  and  eternal  din  of  the  modern 
Babel,  there  is  some  advantage  to  be  gained  by  living 
within  its  precincts.  One's  privations,  'tis  true,  are 
many.  Adieu  to  fresh  air  and  pure  water,  and  a  clear 
atmosphere !  Adieu  to  the  fresh  springy  turf,  and  the 
gay  carol  of  the  birds,  and  the  music  of  the  rustling  leaf 
and  the  running  stream !  But,  then,  the  mighty  of  the 
earth  are  near  us;  and  we  mingle,  at  intervals  and  for 
the  moment,  with  the  illustrious  in  intellect,  in  learning, 
in  eloquence,  and  in  art — the  master  spirits  of  the  age. 

During  the  period  in  which  the  firm  of  "  Hurst  and 
Robinson,  of  Pall-mall,"  held  a  conspicuous  place  in  the 
world  of  letters,  it  was  my  fortune  to  be  present  at  one 
of  their  public  days.  Sir  Walter  Scott,  and  Maturin,  the 
author  of  "  Melmoth,"  and  Lsetitia  Hawkins,  and  the 
Porters — (who  that  has  ever  read  them  will  forget 
"  Thaddeus  of  Warsaw"  and  the  "  Recluse  of  Norway?") 
— and  the  accomplished  authoress  of  "  Rome  in  the  Nine- 
teenth Century,"  and  Gifford,  the  editor  of  the  "  Quar- 
terly," and  the  eccentric,  but  ill-fated  Colton,  were 
among  those  who  were  gathered  around  that  hospitable 
table.  Alas!  upon  how  many  of  these  the  grave  has 
closed  for  ever! 

To  this  hour,  I  remember  the  impression  which  the 
language,  opinions,  and  ardour  of  the  last-named  gifted 
being  left  upon  his  auditors.  He  had  entered,  half  in  jest 
and  half  in  earnest,  into  an  ingenious  and  lengthy  argu- 
ment with  Gilford,  that  the  sun  was  the  residence  of 
suffering  spirits  ;  in  a  word,  that  that  luminary  was  hell ' 


A    LITERARY    S0IR:6E.  41 

Now  GrifFord,  with  all  his  critical  acumen  and  vast 
resources,  was  no  debater ;  he  wanted  temper,  he  chafed 
when  contradicted,  and  in  reply  was  querulous  and  wasp- 
ish. His  remarks  under  excitement  ceased  to  be  inge- 
nious, and  became  personal  and  acrimonious.  It  may, 
therefore,  easily  be  imagined  that  Colton  had  the  best  of 
it,  even  on  this  apparently  desperate  position. 

GifTord  saw  this,  and  waxed  still  more  angry ;  and  the 
debate  had  assumed  an  almost  personal  turn,  when  Sir 
Walter  put  an  end  to  it  by  good-humouredly  observing, 
"  Well,  well,  gentlemen,  pray  settle  it  your  own  way ; 
for  my  own  part,  I  desire  no  further  light  on  the  subject. 
May  I  ever  remain  in  my  present  profound  state  of  igno- 
rance ! 

Of  him,  I  grieve  to  say,  my  impressions  are  by  no  means 
so  distinct.  He  was  not,  then,  the  acknowledged  author 
of  "  Waverley,"  and  the  other  magnificent  creations  of 
the  same  fertile  brain ;  and  the  deference  paid  to  him, 
then,  though  great,  was  not  the  same,  either  in  nature 
or  amount,  as  that  subsequently  awarded  him. 

I  remember  his  telling  a  very  amusing  little  tale  touch- 
ing the  storming  of  an  eagle's  eyrie  in  the  Highlands,  to 
a  slight,  fair-haired  little  girl,  who  sat  by  his  side  during 
some  part  of  the  evening,  and  to  whom,  though  always 
extremely  partial  to  children,  he  seemed  to  have  taken  a 
sudden  fancy.  Of  one  fact,  I  have  a  thorough  recollec- 
tion. The  conversation  happened  to  turn  incidentally 
upon  the  malady  of  the  late  king.  He  remarked,  "  He 
always  hoped  he  should  die  before  his  faculties  became 
extinct.  To  survive  their  decay  was,  to  his  mind,  the 
GREATEST  CALAMITY  wMcli  coulcl  bcfal  a  thinking  being." 

Maturin  here  reminded  him  of  the  incident  recorded  in 
the  life  of  Dean  Swift,  namely,  that  almost  immediately 
previous  to  his  aberration  of  intellect,  Swift,  while  walk- 
ing in  the  park,  paused  before  a  majestic  oak,  green  and 
flourishing  in  its  lower  branches,  but  decayed  and  leaf- 
less at  the  summit,  and  pointing  to  it,  said :  "  I  shall  be 
like  that  tree — I  shall  die  at  top." 

"  I  have  often,  Sir,"  rejoined  Scott,  slowly  and  thought- 
fully, "  mused  upon  that  expression ;  and  many  as  are 
the  touching  sentiments  which  the  Dean  has  uttered,  that, 
I  think,  in  simple  pathos,  is  superior  to  them  all." 

Grifford  here  struck  in  :  "  The  texture  of  Swift's  mind 


42  A    LITERARY    SOIREE. 

disposed  him  to  insanity.  He  saw  every  thing  around 
him  through  a  distorted  medium." 

"But  his  writings,"  Maturin  quietly  observed,  "are 
remarkably  lucid,  as  well  as  forcible.  At  least" — he 
quickly  added,  observing  the  frown  that  was  gathering 
on  Gifford's  brow—"  such  they  appear  to  me." 

"  Sir,  he  was  a  disappointed  man,"  said  GifFord,  gloomi- 
ly and  fiercely ;  "  he  possessed  great  talents,  which 
brought  not  to  their  owner  the  advancement  he  desired. 
The  gloom  of  his  own  prospects  infected  his  writings ; 
he  thought  harshly  of  human  nature.  But,"  he  added, 
after  a  moment's  pause,  with  an  expression  of  bitter 
satisfaction,  which  is  perfectly  indescribable,  "  one  qua- 
lity he  possessed  in  perfection  :  he  was  a  good  hater  1''^ 

"  No  very  enviable  faculty,  after  all,  Mr.  Gifford,"  said 
Sir  Walter,  with  an  easy,  good-humoured  smile. 

"  Rather  an  equivocal  encomium  to  pass  on  a  man,  to 
say  that  he  is  a  good  hater,"  said  Colton,  tittering. 

"  Sir,"  said  Gifford,  looking  from  one  to  the  other  with 
an  eye  that  seemed  to  sjjeok — (if  the  reader  will  pardon  such 
an  expression).  For  the  moment,  he  seemed  uncertain 
which  he  should  gore.  At  length,  fixing  on  Colton,  he 
burst  out  with  : — 

"  Priest,  read  your  Bible  :  Scripture  bids  us  '  pray  for 
our  enemies,'  and  '  love  our  enemies  :'  but  nowhere  does 
it  bid  us  TRUST  our  enemies.  Nay,  it  positively  cautions 
us  against  it.     Read  your  Bible,  priest — read  your  Bible." 

"  But  Swift  was  a  poet,"  said  Maturin,  anxiously 
interposing,  in  the  hope  of  quelling  the  storm  ;  "  and  are 
not  poets  privileged  to  live  in  a  world  of  their  own  ? 

"  You  do,  Madam,"  said  Gifford,  with  a  smile  so  awfully 
grim,  so  bitterly  gracious,  that  the  muscles  of  a  marble 
statue,  methought,  would  have  relaxed  more  easily; 
"  and  your  world,"  turning  to  Miss  Jane  Porter,  "  is 
full  of  "bright  thoughts  and  happy  images." 

The  handsome  novelist  bowed  and  smiled,  but  not  a 
word  escaped  her.  At  this  moment,  a  buz,  or  rather 
whisper,  ot^ — 

"Lawrence,  Lawrence,"  went  round  the  room;  and  in 
a  few  moments,  the  prince  of  modern  portrait-painters 
joined  the  circle. 

He — be  his  prejudices  and  prepossessions  what  they 
may — who  had  ever  the  good  fortune  to  meet,  in  society, 


A    LITERARY    SOIRlfiE.  43 

the  late  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence,  must  have  been  struck 
with  that  graceful  address  and  winning  manner  which  so 
warmly  endeared  him  to  his  friends,  and  rendered  him  so 
great  a  favourite  with  his  Royal  Patron.  It  was  not  the 
mere  conventional  politeness  of  society,  manifested  alike 
to  all,  and  often  worn  as  a  mask  to  hide  the  bitter  and 
goading  passions  of  envy,  avarice,  and  hatred;  but  a 
kindness  and  cordiality  of  feeling,  which  seemed  to  aim 
at  making  others  happy,  and  appeared  to  spring  fresh 
from  the  heart.  His  person  was  very  striking.  He  bore 
a  remarkable  resemblance  to  Canning.  He  knew  it,  and 
was  proud  of  it.  But  his  temper,  calm,  even,  and  self- 
possessed,  had  no  affinity  to  the  irritable,  restless,  anxi- 
ous, morbid  temperament  of  that  singularly  gifted  states- 
man. Having,  in  his  usual  quiet,  graceful  manner,  paid 
his  compliments  to  those  of  the  party  with  w^honi  he  was 
previously  acquainted,  he  singled  out  Maturin,  as  the 
object  of  his  special  attentions.  He  expressed,  in  few, 
but  forcible  terms,  his  "gratification  at  meeting  one 
whose  writings  had  beguiled  him  of  many  a  weary 
hour."  There  was  something  kind  in  this;  for  Maturin 
was  at  that  time  struggling  into  fame,  and  notice  from 
such  a  man  as  Lawrence  could  not  be  otherwise  than 
grateful. 

"  So," — said  Giffbrd,  testily,  as  the  president  paused 
oeside  his  chair  with  a  kind  and  courteous  inquiry, — "  so 
you  have  found  me  out  at  last,  have  ye?  Humph!  much 
flattered  by  your  notice !  Humph  !  Have  you  seen  the 
King  lately?" 

■"  I  left  his  Majesty  but  an  hour  ago,"  was  the  reply. 

"  And  what  may  be  the  ruling  whim  of  the  moment?" 

To  this  enquiry  no  answer  was  given,  for  Lawrence, 
with  admirable  tact,  affected  not  to  hear  the  question. 

"  The  King's  private  collection,"  Sir  Walter  Scott 
interposed,  with  the  charitable  intention  of  giving  a  more 
amicable  turn  to  the  conversation,  "  is  understood  to 
have  lately  received  some  very  valuable  accessions." 

"Such  is  the  fact,"  said  Sir  Thomas,  warmly;  "and 
the  British  School  of  Art  is,  at  this  moment,  cheered  by 
no  small  share  of  the  royal  favour!" 

"His  Majesty  did  not  always  boast  so  pure  a  taste," 
said  Gilford,  who,  from  some  unexplained  slight,  could 
never  resist  the  temptation  of  giving  a  quiet  hit  at  the 


44  A    LITERARY    SOIRlSE. 

Crown ;  "his  pursuits,  within  my  recollection,  tended 
quite  another  way." 

"  His  Majesty's  taste  for  art,  and  his  munificent  patron- 
age of  it,  have  known  no  change  or  abatement  since  I 
had  the  honour  of  being  admitted  to  his  presence,"  said 
Lawrence,  mildly,  but  firmly. 

Some  uniniportant  remarks  followed.  He  then  bow- 
ed profoundly  to  Giffbrd,  and  took  his  leave.  His  depart- 
ure was  the  signal  for  the  breaking  up  of  the  party. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


THE  MEASURE  METED  OUT  TO  OTHERS,  MEASURED  TO 
US  AGAIN." 


L.  E.  L.  closes  one  of  her  sportive  poems  with  the 
heartfelt  exclamation— 

"  Thank  Heaven  that  I  never 
Can  be  a  child  again  ! " 

The  remark  falls  harshly  from  a  woman's  lip  ;  and, 
after  all,  does  not  admit  of  general  application.  There 
are  those  who  were  never  children — with  whom  the 
heart  was  never  young.  There  are  those  who  never 
knew  that  brief  but  happy  period  when  the  spirit  was  a 
stranger  to  guile, — and  the  heart  beat  high  with  gene- 
rous impulses, — and  the  future  was  steeped  in  the 
colours  of  hope,-— and  the  past  left  behind  it  no  sting  of 
bitterness, — and  the  brow  was  unwrinkled  with  care,— 
aud  the  soul  unsullied  by  crime, — and  the  lips  poured 
forth,  fondly  and  fervently,  with  unbounded  and  unwa- 
vering confidence,  the  heart's  purest  and  earliest  homage 
to  Nature  and  to  Truth.  And  he  whose  career,  on  the 
second  anniversary  of  his  death,  I  am  tempted  to  re- 
cord, was  a  living  illustration  of  the  truth  of  this  asser- 
tion. 

Vincent  Desborough's  prospects  and  position  in  society 
embraced  all  that  an  ambitious  heart  would  seek.  He 
was  heir  to  a  large  fortune — had  powerful  connections — 
talents  of  no  common  order — and  indisputable  personal 
attractions.  But  every  good,  natural  and  acquired,  was 
marred  by  a  fatal  flaw  in  his  disposition.  It  was  largely 
leavened  with  cruelty.  It  seemed  born  with  him.  For 
it  was  developed  in  very  early  childhood,  and  bade  de- 
fiance to  remonstrance  and  correction.     Insects,  dogs, 


46  THE    MEASURE    METED    OUT    TO    OTHERS, 

horses,  servants,  all  felt  its  virulence.  And  yet,  on  a 
first  acquaintance,  it  appeared  incredible  that  that  intel- 
ligent and  animated  countenance,  those  gladsome  and 
beaming  eyes,  could  meditate  aught  but  kindness  and 
good-will  to  those  around  him.  But  as  Lord  Byron  said 
of  Ali  Pacha — one  of  the  most  cruel  and  sanguinary  of 
Eastern  despots — that  he  was  "  by  far  the  mildest-looking 
old  gentleman  he  ev^er  conversed  with  ;"  so  it  might  be 
said  of  Vincent  Desborough,  that  never  was  a  relentless 
and  savage  heart  concealed  under  a  more  winning  and 
gentle  exterior. 

That  parents  are  blind  to  the  errors  of  their  offspring 
has  passed  into  a  proverb,  and  Vincent's  were  no  excep- 
tion to  the  rule.  "  He  was  a  boy,"  they  affirmed,  "  of 
the  highest  promise."  His  ingenuity  in  causing  pain 
was  "  a  mere  childish  foible,  which  would  vanish  with 
advancing  years ;"  and  his  delight  at  seeing  others  suffer 
it,  "  an  eccentricity  which  more  extended  acquaintance 
with  life  would  teach  him  to  discard.  All  boys  were 
cruel!''''  And  satisfied  with  the  wisdom  of  this  conclu- 
sion, the  Desboroughs  intrusted  their  darling  to  Doctor 
Scanaway,  with  the  request  that  "he  might  be  treated 
with  every  possible  indulgence." 

"No!"  said  the  learned  linguist,  loudly  and  sternly, 
"  not  if  he  was  heir-presumptive  to  the  dukedom  of 
Devonshire !  Your  son  you  have  thought  proper  to 
place  with  me.  For  that  preference  I  thank  you.  But 
if  he  remains  with  me,  he  must  rough  it  like  the  rest. 
You  have  still  the  power  of  withdrawing  him." 

Papa  and  Mamma  Desborough  looked  at  each  other 
m  evident  consternation,  and  stammered  out  a  disjointed 
disclaimer  of  any  such  intention. 

"  Very  well !  — Coppinger,"  said  he,  calling  one  of  the 
senior  boys,  "  take  this  lad  away  with  you  into  the  school- 
room, and  put  a  Livy  into  his  hands.  My  pupils  I  aim 
at  making  men,  not  milksops — scholars,  not  simpletons. 
To  do  this  I  must  have  your  entire  confidence.  If  that 
be  withheld,  your  son's  luggage  is  still  in  the  Hall,  and  I 
beg  that  he  and  it  may  be  again  restored  to  your  car- 
riage." 

"  By  no  means,"  cried  the  Desboroughs  in  a  breath  ; 
and  silenced,  if  not  satisfied,  they  made  their  adieus  and 
departed. 


MEASURED    TO    US    AGAIN.  47 

II. 

In  Doctor  Scanaway*s  household  Vincent  met  with  a 
congenial  spirit  in  the  person  of  a  youth  some  years  his 
senior,  named  Gervaise  RoUeston.  G  ervaise  was  a  young 
adventurer.  He  was  clever,  active,  and  prepossessing  ; 
but  he  was  poor  and  dependent.  He  discovered  that,  at 
no  very  distant  period,  accumulated  M^ealth  must  descend 
to  Vincent,  and  he  fancied  that,  by  submitting  to  his 
humours  and  flattering  his  follies,  he  might  secure  to 
himself  a  home  in  rough  weather.  The  other  had  no 
objection  to  possess  a  faithful  follower.  In  truth,  a 
clever  coadjutor  was  often  indispensable  for  the  success- 
ful execution  of  his  mischievous  projects.  Mutual  ne- 
cessity thus  proved  a  stringent  bond  to  both ;  and 
between  them  a  league  was  struck  up,  offensive  and 
defensive,  which,  like  other  leagues  on  a  broader  scale 
which  are  supported  by  wealth  and  wickedness,  was 
formidable  to  all  who  opposed  its  designs  and  move- 
ments. 

III. 

Domiciled  in  the  little  village  of  Horbury,  over  which 
the  learned  doctor  ruled  with  undisputed  sway,  was  "  a 
widow,  humble  of  spirit  and  sad  of  heart,  for  of  all  the 
ties  of  life,  one  son  alone  was  spared  her ;  and  she  loved 
him  with  a  melancholy  love,  for  he  was  the  likeness  of 
the  lost."  Moreover,  he  was  the  last  of  his  race,  the 
only  surviving  pledge  of  a  union  too  happy  to  endure ; 
and  the  widow,  while  she  gazed  on  him  with  that  air  of 
resigned  sorrow  peculiar  to  her  countenance — an  air 
which  had  banished  the  smile,  but  not  the  sweetness, 
from  her  lips — felt  that  in  him  were  concentrated  all  the 
ties  which  bound  her  to  existence. 

"  Send  Cyril  to  me,"  said  the  doctor  to  Mrs.  Dormer, 
when  he  called  to  welcome  her  to  the  village.  "No 
thanks — I  knew  his  father — respected  him — loved  him. 
I  like  an  old  family — belong  to  one  myself,  though  I 
have  still  to  learn  the  benefit  it  has  been  to  me  !" 

"  I  fear,"  replied  the  widow,  timidly,  for  the  recollec- 
tion of  very  limited  resources  smote  painfully  across  her, 
"at  least  I  feel  the  requisite  pecuniary  consideration " 

**  He  shall  pay  when  he's  a  fellow  of  his  college — shall 


48       THE  MEASURE  METED  OUT  TO  OTHERS, 

never  know  it  before  !  You've  nothing  to  do  with  it— - 
but  THEN  I  shall  exact  it  !  We  will  dine  in  his  rooms  at 
Trinity,  and  he  shall  lionize  us  over  the  building.  I  have 
long  wished  to  see  Dr.  Wordsworth — good  man — sound 
scholar !  but  have  been  too  busy  these  last  twenty  years 
to  manage  it.  It's  a  bargain,  then?  You'll  send  him 
to-morrow  ?" 

And  the  affectionate  interest  which  the  doctor  took  in 
little  Cyril,  the  pains  he  bestowed  on  his  progress,  and 
the  evident  anxiety  with  which  he  watched  and  aided 
the  development  of  his  mind,  were  among  the  many 
fine  traits  of  character  which  belonged  to  this  warm- 
hearted but  unpolished  humorist. 

To  Dormer,  for  some  undefinable  reason,  Desborough 
had  conceived  the  most  violent  aversion.  Neither  tbe 
youth  of  the  little  orphan,  nor  his  patient  endurance  of 
insult,  nor  the  readiness  with  which  he  forgave,  nor  the 
blamelessness  of  his  own  disposition,  served  to  disarm 
the  ferocity  of  his  tormentor.  Desborough,  to  use  his 
own  words,  was  "  resolved  to  drive  the  little  pauper  from 
their  community,  or  tease  his  very  heart  out." 

His  love  for  his  mother,  his  fair  and  effeminate  appear- 
ance, his  slender  figure  and  diminutive  stature,  were  the 
objects  of  his  tormentor's  incessant  attack.  "  Complain, 
Dormer — complain  at  home,"  was  the  advice  given  him 
by  more  than  one  of  his  class-fellows. 

"  It  would  only  grieve  my  mother,"  he  replied,  in  his 
plaintive,  musical  voice,  "  and  she  has  had  much — oh ! 
so  much — to  distress  her.  I  might,  too,  lose  my  present 
advantages ;  and  the  good  doctor  is  so  very,  very  lenient 
to  me.  Besides,  surely,  Desborough  will  become  kinder 
by-and-by,  even  if  he  does  not  grow  weary  of  ill-treating 
me." 

And  thus,  cheered  by  Hope,  the  little  martyr  strug- 
gled on,  and  suffered  in  silence. 

The  4th  of  September  was  the  doctor's  birth-day,  and 
was  invariably  kept  as  a  sort  of  Saturnalia  by  all  under 
his  roof.  The  day — always  too  short — was  devoted 
to  cricket,  and  revelry,  and  manly  sports,  and  a 
meadow  at  the  back  of  the  shrubbery,  which,  from  its 
being  low  and  marshy,  was  drained  by  dykes  of  all 
dimensions,  was  a  favourite  resort  of  those  who  were 
expert  at  leaping  with  a  pole.     The  whole  party  were 


MEASURED    TO    UB    AGAIN.  49 

in  motion  at  an  early  hour,  and  Cyril  among  the  rest. 
Either  purposely  or  accidentally,  he  was  separated  from 
the  others,  and,  on  a  sudden,  he  found  himself  alone  with 
Desborough  and  Rolleston.  "  Come,  you  little  coward," 
said  the  former,  "leap  this  dyke." 

"  I  cannot,  it  is  too  broad  ;  and,  besides,  it  is  very 
deep." 

"  Cannot !  You  mean  will  not.  But  you  shall  be 
made.     Leap  it,  sir,  this  instant." 

"  I  cannot — indeed  I  cannot.  Do  not  force  me  to  try 
it;  it  is  deep,  and  I  cannot  swim." 

"  Then  learn  now.  Leap  it,  you  little  wretch  !  Leap 
it,  I  say,  or  I'll  throw  you  in.  Seize  him,  Rolleston. 
We'll  teach  him  obedience." 

"  Promise,  me,  then,  that  you  will  help  me  out,"  said 
the  little  fellow,  entreatingly,  and  in  accents  that  would 
have  moved  most  hearts  ;  "  promise  me,  do,  promise  me, 
for  r  feel  sure  that  I  shall  fail." 

"  We  promise  you,"  said  the  confederates,  and  they 
exchanged  glances.  The  helpless  victim  trembled — 
turned  pale.  Perhaps  the  recollection  of  his  doting  and 
widowed  parent  came  across  him,  and  unnerved  his  little 
heart.  "Let  me  off,  Desborough;  'pray  let  me  off,"  he 
murmured. 

"  No  !  you  little  dastard,  no !  Over  !  or  I  throw  you 
in  !'" 

The  fierce  glance  of  Desborough's  eye,  and  the  menace 
of  his  manner,  determined  him.  He  took  a  short  run, 
and  then  boldly  sprang  from  the  bank.  His  misgivings 
were  well-founded.  The  pole  snapped,  and  in  an  instant 
he  was  in  the  middle  of  the  stream. 

"  Help  !  help  !  Your  promise,  Desborough — your 
promise !" 

With  a  mocking  laugh,  Desborough  turned  away. 
"  Help  yourself,  my  fine  fellow  !  Scramble  out ;  it's  not 
deep.  A  kitten  wouldn't  drown !"  And  Rolleston,  in 
whom  better  feelings  for  the  moment  seemed  to  struggle, 
and  who  appeared  half  inclined  to  return  to  the  bank 
and  give  his  aid,  he  dragged  forcibly  away.  The  little 
fellow  eyed  their  movements,  and  seemed  to  feel  his 
fate  was  determined.  He  clasped  his  hands,  and  uttered 
no  further  cry  for  assistance.  The  words  "  Mother  I 
mother!"  were  heard  to  escape  him  ;  and  once,  and  only 


50       THE  MEASURE  METED  OUT  TO  OTHERS, 

once,  did  his  long  wavy  golden  hair  come  up  above  the 
surface  for  a  moment.  But  though  no  human  ear  heeded 
the  death-cry  of  that  innocent  child,  and  no  human  heart 
responded  to  it,  the  Great  Spirit  had  his  observant  eye 
fixed  on  the  little  victim,  and  quickly  terminated  his  ex- 
perience of  care  and  sorrow,  by  a  summons  to  that  world 
where  the  heavy  laden  hear  no  more  the  voice  of  the 
oppressor,  and  the  pure  in  heart  behold  their  God  ! 

IV. 

The  grief  of  the  mother  was  frightful  to  witness.  Her 
softness  and  sweetness  of  character,  the  patience  with 
which  she  had  endured  sorrow  and  reverses,  the  cheer- 
fulness with  which  she  had  submitted  to  the  privations 
attendant  on  very  limited  resources,  had  given  place  to 
unwonted  vehemence  and  sternness.  She  cursed  the 
destroyers  of  her  child  in  the  bitterness  of  her  soul. 
"  God  will  avenge  me !  His  frown  will  darken  their 
path  to  their  dying  hour.  As  the  blood  of  Abel  cried  up 
from  the  ground  against  the  first  murderer,  so  the  blood 
of  my  Cyril  calls  for  vengeance  on  those  who  sacrificed 
him.  I  shall  see  it — I  shall  see  it.  The  measure  meted 
out  by  them  to  others,  shall  he  measured,  unto  them  againy  It 
was  in  vain  that  kind-hearted  neighbours  suggested  to 
her  topics  of  consolation.  She  mourned  as  one  that 
would  not  be  comforted.  "  The  only  child  of  his  mother, 
and  she  a  widow!"  was  her  invariable  reply.  "No! 
For  me  there  is  nought  but  quenchless  regrets  and 
ceaseless  weeping!"  Among  those  who  tendered  their 
friendly  offices  was  the  warm-hearted  doctor.  Indifferent 
to  his  approach,  and  in  appearance  lost  to  everything 
else  around  her,  she  was  sitting  among  Cyril's  books — • 
inspecting  his  little  drawings — arranging  his  playthings, 
and  apparently  carefully  collecting  together  every  object, 
however  trivial,  with  which  his  loved  memory  could  be 
associated. 

To  the  doctor's  kind  though  tremulous  inquiries  she 
had  but  one  reply  :   '■'■Alone — alone  in  the  world.'" 

His  ofier  of  a  home  in  his  own  house  was  declined  with 
the  remark,  "  My  summer  is  so  nearly  over,  it  matters 
not  where  the  leaves  fall." 

And  when  he  pressed  her,  under  any  circumstances,  to 


MEASURED    TO    US    AGAIN.  51 

entertain  the  offer  made  through  him — ^by  a  wealthy- 
kinsman  of  her  husband — of  a  shelter  under  his  roof  for 
any  period,  however  protracted — "  Too  late  !  too  late  !" 
was  her  answer  ;  '■'■  A'fnbition  is  cold  with  the  ashes  of  those  we 
love!" 

But  the  feelings  of  the  mourner  had  been  painfully 
exasperated  by  the  result  of  a  previous  inquiry.  An 
Inquest  was  indispensable  ;  and  rumour — we  may  say 
facts — spoke  so  loudly  against  Desborough,  that  his 
parents  hurried  to  Horbury,  prepared,  at  any  pecuniary 
sacrifice,  to  extricate  him  from  the  obloquy  which  threat- 
ened him.  Money  judiciously  bestowed  will  effect  im- 
possibilities ;  and  the  foreman  of  the  jury — a  bustling, 
clamorous,  spouting  democrat — who  was  always  eloquent 
on  the  wrongs  of  his  fellow-men,  and  kept  the  while  a 
most  watchful  eye  to  his  own  interests — became  on  a 
sudden  ''  thoroughly  satisfied  that  Mr. Vincent  Desborough 
had  been  cruelly  calumniated,"  and  that  the  whole  affair 
was  "  a  matter  of  accident  altogether." 

A  verdict  to  that  effect  was  accordingly  returned ! 

The  unhappy  mother  heard  the  report  of  these  pro- 
ceedings, and  it  seemed  to  scorch  her  very  soul.  "  The 
covetous,  craving  earthworm !"  she  cried.  "He  thinks 
he  has  this  day  clenched  a  most  successful  bargain !  But 
no  !  from  this  hour  the  face  of  God  is  against  him  !  Can 
it  be  otherwise  ?  He  that  justifieth  the  wicked,  and  condemn- 
eth  the  just,  are  they  not  both  equal  ahomiriatioji  in  the  sight 
of  God  ?  For  years  the  wickedness  of  this  hour  will  be 
present  before  the  Great,  Just  Spirit,  and  will  draw 
down  a  curse  on  his  every  project.  I  am  as  confident  of 
it  as  if  I  saw  the  whole  course  of  this  man's  after-life 
spread  out  before  me.    Henceforth  God  fights  against  him!'''' 

It  was  a  curious  coincidence,  the  solution  of  which  is 
left  to  better  casuists  than  myself,  that  from  the  hour  in 
which  he  was  bribed  to  smother  inquiry  and  throw  a 
shield  over  crime — misfortune  and  reverses,  in  unbroken 
succession,  assailed  him.  His  property  melted  away  from 
his  grasp  with  unexampled  rapidity.  And  when,  a  few 
years  afterwards,  the  kinsman  already  alluded  to  left 
poor  Dormer's  mother  a  small  annuity,  it  so  chanced 
that,  as  she  quitted  the  vestry  with  the  requisite  certifi- 
cates of  birth  and  marriage  in  her  hands,  she  encountered 
this  very  juror  in  the  custody  of  the  parish  officers,  who 


52  THE    MEAStJRE    METED    OUT    TO    OTHERS, 

were  bringing  him  before  the  proper  authorities,  to  swear 
him  to  his  settlement,  and  then  obtain  an  order  to  pass 
him  forthwith  to  the  parish  workhouse  ! 


A  few  years  after  the  sad  scene  at  Horbury,  Desbo- 
rough  was  admitted  at  Cambridge.  He  was  the  sporting 
man  of  a  non-reading  college.  Around  him  were  gathered 
all  the  coaching,  betting,  driving,  racing  characters  of  the 
University — the  ^'■Varmint  men,''''  as  they  called  them- 
selves— "  The  DeviVs  Own,''''  as  others  named  them.  It 
was  a  melancholy  sojourn  for  Desborough.  The  strict- 
ness of  academical  rule  put  down  every  attempt  at  a 
cock-pit,  a  badger-hunt,  or  a  bull-bait.  It  was  a  pain- 
fully monotonous  life  ;  and  to  enliven  it  he  got  up  a  rat- 
hunt.  Appertaining  to  him  was  a  little  knowing  dog, 
with  a  sharp,  quick  eye,  and  a  short,  curled-up  tail,  who 
was  discovered  to  have  an  invaluable  antipathy  to  rats, 
and  a  unparalleled  facility  in  despatching  them.  What 
discovery  could  be  more  opportune?  Rat-hunts  wiled 
away  many  a  lagging  hour ;  and  the  squeaks,  and  shrieks, 
and  shouts,  which  on  these  occasions  issued  from  Des- 
borough's  rooms,  were  pronounced  by  the  senior  tutor 
''quite  irregular;""  and  by  the  master  to  be  "by  no 
means  in  keeping  with  the  gravity  of  college  discipline." 
To  the  joy  of  all  the  staid  and  sober  members  of  the 
society,  these  sounds  at  length  were  hushed,  for  Des- 
borough quitted  the  University. 

"What  a  happy  riddance!"  said,  on  the  morning  of  his 
departure,  a  junior  fellow  who  had  had  the  misfortune  to 
domicile  on  Desborough's  staircase.  "  His  rooms  had 
invariably  such  an  unsavoury  smell,  that  it  was  quite 
disagreeable  to  pass  them!" 

'And  would  you  believe  it,"  cried  another,  who  used 
to  excruciate  the  ears  of  those  above  and  below  him  by 
the  most  rasping  inflictions  on  a  tuneless  fiddle;  "would 
you  believe  it,  after  the  noise  and  uproar  with  which  his 
rooms  were  familiar— would  you  credit  it,  after  the  horrid 
din  which,  during  all  hours  of  day  and  night,  might  be 
heard  there — that  whenever  I  began  one  of  those  sweetly 
soothing  airs  of  Bellini,  his  gyp  used  to  come  to  me  with 
his  master's  compliments,  and  he  was  sorry  to  disturb 


MEASURED    TO    US    AGAIN.  53 

me,  but  really  the  noise  in  my  rooms — fancy — the 
NOISE  !  was  so  great,  that  he  was  unable  to  read  while 
it  lasted !" 

"  He  was  so  little  accomplished — played  the  worst 
rubber  of  any  man  I  ever  knew,"  observed  the  dean, 
with  great  gravity. 

"He  carved  so  badly!"  said  the  bursar.  "He  has 
often  deprived  me  of  my  appetite  by  the  manner  in 
which  he  helped  me !" 

"And  was  so  cruel !"  added  the  president,  who  was 
cursed  with  a  tabby  mania.  "  Poor  Fatima  could  never 
take  her  walk  across  the  quadrangle  without  being  worried 
by  one  or  other  of  his  vile  terriers." 

"  The  deliverance  is  great,"  cried  the  musical  man, 
"  and  heaven  be  praised  for  it !" 

"Amen !"  said  the  other  two  ;  "but  surely — yes !  it  is 
the  dinner-bell !" 


VI. 

In  a  fair  and  fertile  valley,  where  the  nightingales  are 
to  be  heard  earlier  and  later  in  the  year  than  in  any  other 
part  of  England ;  where  the  first  bursting  of  the  buds  is 
seen  in  spring;  where  no  rigour  of  the  seasons  can  ever 
be  felt ;  where  every  thing  seems  formed  for  precluding 
the  very  thought  of  wickedness,  lived  a  loved  and  vener- 
ated clergyman  with  his  only  daughter. 

He  belonged  to  a  most  distinguished  family,  and  had 
surrendered  brilliant  prospects  to  embrace  the  profession 
of  his  choice.  And  right  nobly  had  he  adorned  it !  And 
she — the  companion  of  his  late  and  early  hours,  his  con- 
fidante, guide,  almoner,  consoler — was  a  young,  fair,  and 
innocent  being,  whose  heart  was  a  stranger  to  duplicity, 
and  her  tongue  to  guile. 

His  guide  and  consoler  was  she,  in  the  truest  sense 
of  the  term.  He  was  blind.  While  comforting,  in  his 
dying  moments,  an  old  and  valued  parishioner,  Mr. 
Somerset  had  caught  the  infection ;  and  the  fever,  settl- 
ing in  his  eyes,  had  deprived  him  of  vision. 

"  I  will  be  your  curate,"  said  the  affectionate  girl, 
when  the  old  man,  under  the  pressure  of  this  calamity, 
talked  of  retiring  altogether  from  duty.  "  The  prayers, 
and  psalms,  and  lessons  you  have  long  known  by  heart ; 


54      THE  MEASURE  METED  OUT  TO  OTHERS, 

and  your  addresses,  as  you  call  them,  we  all  prefer  to 
your  written  sermons.  Pray,  pray  accept  of  me  as  your 
curate,  and  make  trial  of  my  services  in  guiding  and 
prompting  you,  ere  you  surrender  your  beloved  charge 
to. a  stranger." 

"  It  would  break  my  heart  to  do  so,"  said  the  old  man, 
faintly. 

The  experiment  was  made,  and  succeeded ;  it  was  a 
spectacle  which  stirred  the  heart  to  see  that  fair-haired, 
bright-eyed  girl  steadying  her  father's  tottering  steps, 
prompting  him  in  the  service  when  his  memory  failed, 
guiding  him  to  and  from  the  sanctuary,  and  watching 
over  him  with  the  truest  and  tenderest  affection — an 
affection  which  no  wealth  could  purchase,  and  no  remu- 
neration repay,  for  it  sprung  from  heartfelt  and  devoted 
attachment. 

Satiated  with  pleasure  and  shattered  in  constitution,  a 
stranger  came  to  seek  health  in  this  sheltered  spot.  It 
was  Desborough.  Neither  the  youth,  nor  the  beauty,  nor 
the  innocence  of  Edith  availed  her  against  the  snares  and 
sophistry  of  this  unprincipled  man.  She  fell — but  under 
circumstances  of  the  most  unparalleled  duplicity.  She 
fell— the  victim  of  the  most  tremendous  perfidy  and  the 
dupe  of  the  most  carefully  vailed  villany.  She  fell — and 
was  deserted!  "  Importune  me  no  more  as  to  marriage," 
was  the  closing  remark  of  the  deceiver's  last  letter ; 
"  your  own  conduct  has  rendered  that  impossible."  That 
declaration  was  her  death-blow.  She  read  it,  and  never 
looked  up  again.  The  springs  of  life  seemed  frozen  with- 
in her;  and  without  any  apparent  disease  she  faded 
gradually  away. 

"  I  am  justly  punished,"  was  the  remark  of  her  heart- 
broken father,  when  the  dreadful  secret  was  disclosed  to 
him.  " My  idol  is  withdrawn  from  me!  Ministering  at 
His  altar,  nought  should  have  been  dearer  to  me  than 
His  triumphs  and  His  cause  !  But  lead  me  to  her,  I  can 
yet  bless  her." 

The  parting  interview  between  that  parent  and  child 
will  never  be  forgotten  by  those  who  witnessed  it.  The 
aged  minister  wept  and  prayed — and  prayed  and  wept — 
over  his  parting  child,  with  an  earnestness  and  agony  that 
"  bowed  the  hearts  of  all  who  heard  him  like  the  heart 
of  one  man." 


MEASURED    TO    US    AGAIN.  55 

"  Is  there  hope  for  me,  father  ?"  said  the  dying  girl. 
"  Can  I — can  I  be  forgiven  ?  Will  not — oh !  will  not 
our  separation  be  eternal  V 

"  Though  sin  abounded,"  was  the  almost  inarticulate 
reply,  "  grace  did  much  more  abound.  The  blood  of 
Jesus  Christ  cleanseth  from  all  sin." 

"  We  shall  not  be  long  parted,"  was  his  remark  when 
those  who  watched  around  the  dying  bed  told  him  he 
had  no  longer  a  daughter.  "  The  summons  has  arrived 
and  the  last  tie  which  bound  me  to  earth  is  broken." 

Acting  upon  this  conviction,  he  commenced  and  com- 
pleted the  arrangements  for  the  disposition  of  his  little 
property  with  an  earnestness  and  alacrity  they  could  well 
understand  who  had  witnessed  his  blameless  career. 

The  evening  previous  to  that  appointed  for  the  funeral 
of  his  daughter,  he  said  to  those  who  had  the  manage- 
ment of  the  sad  ceremony,  "  Gfrant  the  last,  the  closing 
request  of  your  pastor.  Postpone  the  funeral  a  few 
hours.  I  ask  no  more.  A  short  delay — and  one  service 
and  one  grave  will  suffice  for  both." 

His  words  were  prophetic.  The  morrow's  sun  he 
never  saw ;  and,  on  the  follovi^ing  Sabbath,  amid  the 
tears  of  a  bereaved  people,  father  and  daughter  were 
calmly  deposited  in  one  common  grave. 


VII. 

In  the  interim  how  had  the  world  sped  with  Gervaise 
Rolleston  ?  Bravely  !  He  had  become  a  thriving  and  a 
prosperous  gentleman.  There  are  two  modes,  says  an 
old  writer,  of  obtaining  distinction.  "  The  eagle  soars, 
the  serpent  climbs."  The  latter  mode  was  the  one 
adopted  by  Rolleston,  He  was  an  adroit  flatterer ;  pos- 
sessed the  happy  art  of  making  those  whom  he  addressed 
pleased  with  themselves ;  had  a  thorough  knowledge  of 
tact ;  and  always  said  the  right  thing  in  the  right  place. 
All  his  acquaintance  called  him  "  a  very  rising  young  man." 
And  for  "  a  very  rising  young  man,"  he  held  a  most  con- 
venient creed.  For  "  to  forget  all  benefits,  and  conceal 
the  remembrance  of  all  injuries,  are  maxims  by  which 
adventurers  lose  their  honour,  but  make  their  fortunes." 
In  a  happy  hour  he  contrived  to  secure  the  acquaintance 
of  Lord  Meriden.     His  lordship  was   an  amiable,  but 


5G  THE    MEASURE    METED    OUT    TO    OTHERS, 

moody  valetudinarian,  who  had  no  resources  in  himself, 
and  was  entirely  dependent  on  the  good  offices  of  others. 
Eolleston  was  the  very  man  for  him.  He  was  a  fair 
punster;  told  a  good  story  ;  sang  a  capital  song;  played 
well  at  chess  and  billiards,  and,  most  unaccountably,  was 
always  beaten  at  both ;  could  read  aloud  by  the  hour 
together ;  and  never  took  offence.  To  all  these  accom- 
plishments, natural  and  acquired,  he  added  one  most 
valuable  qualification,  which  was  in  constant  exercise — 
the  most  profound  respect  for  Lord  Meriden.  Ah  !  how 
true  it  is  that  "  we  love  those  who  admire  us  more  than 
those  whom  we  admire  !" 

Rolleston's  advice,  presence,  and  conversation  became 
to  Lord  Meriden  indispensable.  And,  when  ordered 
abroad  by  those  who  foresaw  that  he  would  die  under 
their  hands  if  he  remained  at  home,  the  sick  nobleman's 
first  care  was  that  Rolleston  should  accompany  him.  He 
did  so ;  and  played  his  part  so  successfully,  that,  "  in 
remembrance  of  his  disinterested  attentions,"  Lord  Meri- 
ien  bequeathed  to  him  the  whole  of  his  personal  pro- 
perty. His  carriages,  horses,  plate,  yacht,  all  were  willed 
by  the  generous  nobleman  to  his  pliant  favourite.  In 
the  vessel  which  had  thus  become  his  own,  Rolleston 
embarked  for  England.  It  was  a  proud  moment  for  his 
aspiring  spirit.  He  was  returning,  an  independent  and 
opulent  man,  to  those  shores  which  he  had  quitted,  fif- 
teen months  before,  a  penniless  adventurer.  His  family, 
apprized  of  his  good  fortune,  hurried  down  to  Ryde,  to 
receive  him  on  his  arrival.  They  vied  with  each  other 
in  the  length  and  ardour  of  their  congratulations.  By 
the  way,  what  extraordinary  and  overpowering  affection 
is  invariably  evinced  by  all  the  members  of  a  family 
towards  that  branch  of  it  which  unexpectedly  attains 
wealth  or  distinction !  The  "  Fairy  Queen"  was  tele- 
graphed, was  signalled,  hove  in  sight,  passed  gallantly 
on,  and  all  the  RoUestons,  great  and  small,  pressed  down 
to  the  pier  to  welcome  this  "  dear,  good,  worthy,  accom- 
plished, and  excellent  young  man." 

At  the  very  instant  of  nearing  the  pier,  in  the  bustle 
and  confusion  of  the  moment,  Rolleston  was  sent  over- 
board. Some  said  that  he  was  overbalanced  by  a  sudden 
lurch  of  the  vessel ;  others,  that  he  was  struck  by  the 
jib-boom.    One  staid  and  respectable  spectator  positively 


AIEASURED    TO    US    AGAIN.  57 

affirmed  that  he  had  observed  a  sailor,  to  whose  wife,  it 
seemed,  Rolleston  had,  some  months  before,  offered  insult, 
rush  violently  against  him,  with  the  evident  intention 
of  injuring  him,  and  this  account,  strange  as  it  appeared, 
gained  considerable  credence.  The  fact,  however,  was 
indisputable.  He  struggled  bravely  for  a  few  moments 
with  the  eddy  that  sweeps  around  the  pier,  then  struck 
out  boldly  for  the  shore,  waived  his  hand  in  recognition 
of  his  agonized  family,  who  were  almost  within  speaking 
distance,  and — sunk  to  rise  no  more. 

For  many  days  his  anguished  mother  lingered  at  Ryde, 
in  the  hope  of  rescuing  the  body  from  the  deep  ;  and 
large  was  the  reward  promised  to  those  who  should  suc- 
ceed in  bringing  her  the  perishing  remains.  So  many 
days  had  elapsed  in  fruitless  search,  that  hope  was  fading 
into  despair,  when,  one  morning,  a  lady  in  deep  mourn- 
ing inquired  for  Mrs.  Rolleston.  On  being  admitted  to 
her  presence — 

"  I  am  the  bearer,"  said  she,  "  of  welcome  intelligence : 
I  have,  this  morning,  discovered  on  the  beach,  at  some 
distance,  the  body  of  your  son,  Glervaise  Rolleston." 

"  How  know  you  that  it  is  he  ?" 

"I  cannot  be  mistaken  !" 

"  Are  his  features,  then,  familiar  to  you  ?" 

"  Familiar !     I  am  the  mother  of  Cyril  Dormer  !" 

vni. 

It  is  painful  to  observe  how  soon  the  dead  are  forgotten. 
The  tide  of  fashion,  or  business,  or  pleasure,  rolls  on — 
rapidly  obliterates  the  memory  of  the  departed — and 
sweeps  away  with  it  the  attention  of  the  mourner  to  the 
ruling  folly  of  the  hour. 

"  There  poesy  and  love  come  not, 
It  is  a  world  of  stone  : 
The  grave  is  bought — is  closed — forgot, 
And  then  life  hurries  on."  ' 

Engrossed  in  the  all-important  duty  of  securing  the 
property  which  had  been  bequeathed  to  their  son,  and 
which,  as  he  had  left  no  will,  there  was  some  probability 
of  their  losing,  the  Rollestons  had  completely  forgotten 

1 L.  E.  L. 


58  THE    MEASURE    METED    OUT    TO    OTHERS, 

him  by  whose  subservience  it  had  been  acquired.  At 
length  it  occurred  to  them  that  some  monument  was 
due;  or,  at  all  events,  that  a  headstone  should  be  raised 
over  him  v^ho  slept  beneath  the  yevi^-tree  in  Brading 
churchyard ;  and  directions  were  given  accordingly. 
Their  intentions  had  been  anticipated.  A  headstone  had 
been  erected — when  or  by  whom  no  one  could  or  cared  to 
divulge.  But  there  it  was.  It  bore  the  simple  inscrip- 
tion of  the  name  of  the  departed — the  day  of  birth  and 
the  day  of  death ;  with  this  remarkable  addition,  in 
large  and  striking  letters  : — 

"  WITH    THE    SAME    MEASURE    THAT    YE    METE 
WITHAL,  IT    SHALL    BE    MEASURED    TO    YOU    AGAIN." 

IX. 

Some  years  after  the  circumstances  detailed  in  the  last 
chapter,  a  gentleman,  in  military  undress,  was  descried 
riding  slowly  into  the  village  of  Beechbury.  The  size 
and  architecture  of  the  village  church  had  apparently 
arrested  his  attention,  and  he  drew  bridle  suddenly,  to 
make  inquiries  of  a  peasant,  who  was  returning  from 
his  daily  toil. 

"Ay !  it's  a  fine  church,  though  I  can't  say  I  troubles 
it  very  much  myself,"  was  the  reply.  "  There's  a  mort 
of  fine  munniments  in  it  beside.  AH  Lord  Somerset's 
folks  be  buried  there  ;  and  'twas  but  four  years  last 
Martinmas  that  they  brought  here  old  Parson  Somerset 
and  his  daughter  all  the  way  from  a  churchyard  t'other 
«de  Dartmoor,  because,  ye  see,  they  belonged  to  'em ; 
and  these  great  folks  choose  to  be  all  together.  It's  a 
grand  vault  they  have  !  But  here's  Moulder,  the  sex- 
ton, coming  anent  us,  and  he'll  tell  as  much  and  more 
than  ye  may  care  to  hear." 

The  name  of  Somerset  seemed  to  jar  harshly  on  the 
stranger's  ear;  and,  dismounting  hastily,  he  demanded 
of  the  sexton  "  whether  he  could  shew  him  the  interior 
of  the  church  at  that  hour?" 

"  Certainly,"  was  the  reply;  "  turn  to  the  right,  and 
I  will  overtake  you  with  the  keys  before  you  reach  the 
west  door." 

The  church  was  one  of  considerable  magnitude  and 
surpassing  beauty.     It  was  built  in  the  form  of  a  cross, 


MEASURED    TO    US    AGAIN.  59 

and  had  formerly  been  the  chapel  of  a  wealthy  monastic 
order,  suppressed  at  the  period  of  the  Reformation.  Near 
the  altar  was  a  shrine,  once  the  resort  of  pilgrims  from 
every  clime,  from  its  inclosing  a  fragment  of  the  true 
cross.  You  approached  it  by  an  aisle,  which  was  literally 
a  floor  of  tombstones,  inlaid  in  brass  with  the  forms  of 
the  departed.  Mitres,  and  crosiers,  and  spears,  and 
shields,  and  helmets  were  all  mingled  together — emblems 
of  conquests,  and  honours,  and  dignities,  which  had  long 
since  passed  away.  The  setting  sun  cast  his  mellow 
radiance  through  the  richly-painted  western  window,  and 
tipped  with  living  lustre  many  of  the  monuments  of  the 
line  of  Somerset.  Some  of  the  figures  were  of  the  size 
of  life,  and  finely  sculptured.  And  as  the  restless  and 
agitated  stranger  gazed  on  them,*  they  seemed  to  reply 
to  his  questioning  glance,  and  slowly  murmur,  "All  on 
earth  is  but  for  a  period ;  joy  and  grief,  triumph  and 
desolation,  succeed  each  other  like  cloud  and  sunshine ! 
Care  and  sorrow,  change  and  vicissitude,  we  have  proved 
like  thee.  Fight  the  good  fight  of  faith.  Brave,  as  we, 
the  combat ;  speed  the  race  ;  stem  the  storm  of  life  ;  and 
in  God's  own  good  time  thou,  like  us,  shalt  rest." 

"I  wish,"  said  the  stranger,  when  he  had  traversed  the 
church,  "to  descend  into  the  Somerset  vault.  It's  a 
sickly,  foolish  fancy  of  mine  ;  but  I  choose  to  gratify  it. 
Which  is  the  door?" 

"Nay,  that's  no  part  of  our  bargain,"  said  the  sexton, 
doggedly;  "  you  go  not  there." 

"I  am  not  accustomed  to  refusals  when  I  state  my 
nshes,"  said  the  soldier  fiercely  and  haughtily.  "Lead 
the  way,  old  man  !" 

"  Not  for  the  Indies !  It's  as  much  as  my  place  is 
vvorth.  Our  present  rector  is  one  of  the  most  particular 
parsons  that  ever  peered  over  a  pulpit  cushion.  He 
talks  about  the  sanctity  of  the  dead  in  a  way  that  makes 
one  stare.  Besides,  it  is  the  burial  place  of  all  his 
family." 

"  The  very  reason  for  which  I  wish  to  see  it." 

"  Not  with  my  will,"  said  Moulder,  firmly.  "  Besides, 
there's  nothing  to  see — nothing  but  lead  coffins,  on  my 
life!" 

Here,"  cried  the  stranger ;  and  he  placed  a  piece  of 
gold  on  the  sexton's  trembling  palm. 


60       THE  MEASURE  METED  OUT  TO  OTHERS, 

"  I  dare  not,  sir ;  indeed  I  dare  not,"  said  the  latter, 
entreatingly,  as  if  he  felt  the  temptation  was  more  than 
he  could  well  resist. 

"Another,"  said  his  companion,  and  a  second  piece  of 
the  same  potent  metal  glittered  in  the  old  man's  grasp. 

"  Well,"  cried  Moulder,  drawing  a  deep  and  heavy- 
sigh,  '  if  you  inust  you  must!  I  would  rather  you  wouldn't 
— I'm  sure  no  good  will  come  of  it ;  but  if  you  insist 

upon  it,  sir — if  you  insist  upon  it" and  slowly  and 

reluctantly  he  unclosed  the  ponderous  door  which  opened 
into  the  vault. 

The  burial-place  of  the  Somersets  was  large  and  im- 
posing. It  was  evidently  of  antique  construction  and 
very  considerable  extent.  Escutcheons,  shields,  hatch- 
ments, and  helmets  were  ranged  around  the  walls,  all 
referring  to  those  who  were  calmly  sleeping  within  its 
gloomy  recesses,  while  coffins,  pile  upon  pile,  occupied 
the  centre.  One  single  window  or  spiracle  of  fifteen 
inches  in  diameter  passed  upwards,  through  the  thick 
masonry,  to  the  external  air  beyond,  and  one  of  those 
short,  massive  pillars,  which  we  sometimes  see  in  the 
crypts  of  very  ancient  churches,  stood  in  the  centre  and 
supported  the  roof. 

V    "  Which — which  is  the  coffin" — and  the  stranger's  voice 
seemed  hoarse  with  agitation — "  of  Edith  Somerset  ?" 

"  Edith  !"  cried  old  Moulder,  carelessly — and  the  indif- 
ference of  his  tone  formed  a  strange  contrast  to  the 
eagerness  of  the  preceding  speaker — "  Edith  !  ough  !  ah ! 
the  young  girl  that  last  came  amongst  us !  a  very  pretty 
lass,  they  say,  she  was !     Edith !  ah !  here  she  is — the 

second  coffin  on  your  right." 

***** 

"  Well,  sir,  you  are  about  satisfied,  I  take  it,"  said  the 
sexton,  coaxingly,  to  his  companion,  after  the  latter  had 
taken  a  long,  minute,  and  silent  survey  of  the  scene 
around  him. 

"No!  no!" 

"  Why,  how  long  would  you  wish  to  remain  here?" 

"At  least  an  hour." 

"  An  hour !  I  can't  stay,  Sir,  really  I  can't,  all  that 
time!  And  to  leave  the  church,  and,  what's  worse,  the 
vault  open— it's  a  thing  not  to  be  thought  of !  I  cannot 
— -and,  what's  more,  I  will  not." 


MEASURED    TO    US    AGAIN.  61 

"  Dotard !  then  lock  me  in,  I  say !  Do  what  you  will. 
But  leave  me." 

" Leave  you!  Lock  you  in  !  And  here  !  Grod  bless 
you,  Sir,  you  can't  he  aware " 

"Leave  me — leave  me!"  said  the  stranger,  impetu- 
ously ;  and  he  drew  the  door  towards  him  as  he  spoke. 

"What!  would  you  be  locked  up  and  left  alone  with 
the  dead -?" 

"  Go — go,  I  say,  and  release  me  in  an  hour." 

Li  amazement  at  the  stranger's  mien,  air  of  command, 
courage,  and  choice.  Moulder  departed.  "  The  Jolly 
Beggars"  lay  in  his  way  home,  and  the  door  stood  so 
invitingly  open,  and  the  sounds  of  mirth  and  good- 
fellowship  which  thence  issued  were  so  attractive,  that 
he  could  not  resist  the  temptation  of  washing  away  the 
cares  of  the  day  in  a  cool  tankard,  were  it  only  to  pledge 
the  stranger's  health. 

This  indulgence  Moulder  repeated  so  frequently  as  at 
length  to  lose  all  recollection  of  the  stranger,  of  the 
vault,  and  of  his  appointment,  and  it  was  only  late  on 
the  morning  of  the  following  day,  when  his  wife  asked 
him  "j/' Ae  had  come  honestly  by  what  was  in  his  pocJcet?" 
that,  in  an  agony,  he  remembered  his  prisoner. 

Trembling  in  every  limb,  and  apprehending  he  knew 
not  what,  he  hurried  to  the  church  and  unlocked  the 
vault. 

The  spectacle  which  there  awaited  him  haunted  the 
old  man  to  his  dpng  day.  The  remains  of  the  stranger 
were  before  him,  but  so  marred — -so  mutilated — so  dis- 
figured— that  no  feature  could  be  recognized,  even  by  the 
nearest  relative. 

Rats  in  .nyriads  had  assailed  him ;  and,  by  his  broken 
sword  and  the  multitudes  which  lay  dead  around  him,  it 
was  plain  his  resistance  had  been  gallant  and  protracted. 
But  it  availed  not.  Little  of  him  remained,  and  that 
little  was  in  a  state  which  it  was  painful  for  humanity 
to  gaze  upon. 

Among  the  many  who  pressed  forward  to  view  the 
appalling  spectacle  was  an  elderly  female,  much  beloved 
in  the  village  for  her  kindly,  and  gentle,  and  compassion- 
ate heart — her  name  was  Dormer.  To  her  the  sexton 
handed  a  small  memorandum  book,  which  had,  by  some 
means,  escaped  destruction. 


62    THE  MEASURE  METED  OUT  TO  OTHERS,  ETC. 

Upon  the  papers  which  it  contained  the  old  lady  looked 
long  and  anxiously,  and,  when  she  spoke,  it  was  in  a  low 
and  tremulous  tone. 

"  These,"  said  she,  "  are  the  remains  of  Colonel  Vincent 
Desborough.  I  have  deep  cause  to  remember  him.  May 
he  meet  with  that  mercy  on  High,  which,  on  earth,  he 
refused  to  others !"  The  old  lady  paused  and  wept,  and 
the  villagers  did  homage  to  her  grief  by  observing  a 
respectful  silence.  They  all  knew  and  loved  her.  "  This 
spectacle,"  murmured  she,  as  she  wended  her  way  home- 
wards, "  opens  up  fountains  of  grief  which  I  thought 
were  long  since  dry  ;  but  chiefly  and  mainly  does  it  teach 
me,  that  the  measure  we  mete  out  to  others  is  measured 
unto  us  again." 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

THE   FOREIGN   SORCERESS   AND   THE   BRITISH   STATESMAN. 

"  For  it  is  not  the  past  alone  that  has  its  ghosts  :  each  event  to  come 
has  also  its  spectrum — its  shade  ;  when  the  hour  arrives,  life  enters  it,  the 
shadow  becomes  corporeal,  and  walks  the  world.  Thus,  in  the  land 
beyond  the  grave,  are  ever  two  impalpable  and  spectral  hosts,  the  things 
to  be,  the  things  that  have  been." — Godolphin. 

At  Paris,  during  the  early  part  of  the  year  1827,  and 
the  autumn  of  1828  and  1829,  resided  a  lady,  whose  pre- 
tensions and  performances  caused  no  slight  sensation 
among  the  novelty-seeking  coteries  of  that  gay  capital. 
Madame  de  Strzelecki  was  a  woman  advanced  in  years, 
plain  in  appearance,  and  grave  in  address.  She  spoke  in 
the  tone  and  diction  of  one  who  had  been  accustomed  to 
move  in  the  higher  grades  of  society ;  but  of  her  descent, 
connections,  plans,  and  resources,  no  one  seemed  able  to 
glean  the  slightest  information.  She  professed  to  unveil 
the  future ;  and,  though  her  fee  was  gold,  and  though 
she  saw  those  only  who  waited  upon  her  with  a  formal 
introduction  from  a  previous  client,  the  equipages  that 
were  found  loitering  near  her  spacious  dwelling  in  Rue 
de  la  Paix  chez  la  Barriere  du  Roule,  contained  half  the 
beauty  and  haut  ton  of  Paris. 

And  yet  the  information  she  gave  was  partial.  It  re- 
lated to  two  epochs  only  in  the  life  of  those  who  con- 
sulted her — death  and  marriage.  She  would  place  before 
you  the  lively  scene  and  gay  appendages  of  the  one  ; 
and  the  languor,  gloom,  and  restlessness  of  the  other. 
On  neither  spectacle  was  it  her  custom  to  offer  one  single 
syllable  of  remark.  •  She  left  her  visitant  to  draw  his  own 
moral  from  the  scene. 

Among  the  strangers  in  Paris,  at  that  period,  were  two 
Englishmen,  of  great,  though  opposite  talent— both  am- 


64  THE    FOREIGN    SORCERESS 

bitious  men — each  idolized  by  his  respective  party— each 
the  sworn  champion  of  a  certain  set  of  opinions — both 
high  in  the  favour  of  the  sovereign  vidiom  they  served, 
and  aspiring  to  the  most  enduring  rewards  which  talent 
and  energy  could  win.  They  heard  from  fifty  gay  voices 
the  fame  of  Madame  de  Strzelecki ;  and  as  a  mere  whim 
of  the  moment — an  impromptu  extravaganza — they  re- 
solved to  visit  the  mystic  in  disguise,  and  to  test  her 
pretensions.  They  were  described  in  the  note  of  intro- 
duction which  they  presented,  as  "  two  American  gen- 
tlemen, whose  stay  in  Paris  must  be,  under  any  circum- 
stances, short ;  whose  errand  there  was  some  commercial 
speculation,  the  issue  of  which  might  recall  them  to 
Philadelphia  at  a  few  hours'  notice.  They  entreated, 
therefore,  the  favour  of  an  immediate  audience." 

It  was  granted  at  once.  She  received  them,  as  was 
her  wont,  in  silence.  But  upon  the  first  who  entered 
her  apartment  (the  younger,  and  by  far  the  more  intel- 
lectual looking  of  the  two)  she  gazed  long  and  earnestly. 

"  You  are  married,  and  have  two  sons  and  a  daughter ;" 
was  the  off-hand  declaration  with  which  she  met  his 
bow  ;  "  the  scene  of  your  nuptials,  therefore,  you  cannot 
well  have  forgotten !  That  of  your  demise  is  the  spec- 
tacle which  I  presume  you  wish  to  have  brought  before 
you?" 

"You  anticipate  me.  Madam,"  was  the  reply;  "but 
such  is,  undoubtedly,  the  object  of  my  present  visit." 

"  And  you,  sir,"  said  she,  turning  to  his  companion, 
"  are  married,  but  childless.  Do  yoio  wish  to  gaze  upon 
the  closing  scene  of  your  busy  life?  Perhaps,"  added 
she,  with  more  of  interest  and  feeling  than  she  generally 
exhibited,  "  yi»u  will  abandon  your  intention  ?  Recon- 
sider it." 

"  By  no  means  ;  the  ordeal  which  is  gaily  courted  by 
my  companion,  I  would  also  brave." 

"Have  you  firmness  and  resolution?"  demanded  the 
lady ;  "  have  you  nerve  to  gaze  upon  a  very  harrowing 
spectacle  ?" 

"  Without  it,  oiight  I  to  have  come  hither  .^" 

"  I  am  answered.     Follow  me." 

She  led  the  way  as  she  spoke,  out  of  the  apartment, 
and  the  Englishmen  followed  her.  They  crossed  a  small, 
low  passage ;  passed  through  a  narrow  portal ;  a  second  5 


AND    THE    BRITISH    STATESMAN.  65 

a  third ;  aud  then  found  themselves  in  a  hall  of  very 
considerable  extent.  It  was  paved  with  black  marble, 
and  decorated  at  each  end  with  four  slender  pillars  of  the 
same  material.  In  the  centre  rose  a  very  large  jet-black 
basin,  filled  with  dark  water  to  a  considerable  depth.  A 
cupola,  or  lantern,  admitted  a  tempered  light  from  above ; 
and  the  deep  basin  was  so  placed,  that  whatever  day- 
light the  dome  admitted  fell  full  upon  it.  But,  despite 
of  the  noble  proportions  of  the  hall,  and  the  lightness  of 
the  pillars,  and  the  fairy  tracery  of  the  cupola^  there  was 
an  air  of  gloom  over  the  whole  apartment.  It  seemed  a 
fitting  scene  to  communicate  tidings  of  approaching  sor- 
row, separation,  sickness,  silence,  death. 

"Look  on  this  dark  water,"  said  their  conductress; 
"  it  shall  speak  to  you  of  the  future.  If  death  be  at  a 
distance,  it  will  sink  some  feet  in  every  second  that  you 
gaze  upon  it.  If  your  parting  hour  approaches,  it  will 
rise  rapidly ;  and  if  the  very  last  sands  in  life's  hour-glass 
be  running,  will  mount  till  it  be  checked  only  by  the 
margin.  If  it  be  fated  that  death  shall  approach  you  in 
the  guise  of  violfence,  the  water  will  instantly  bubble  up. 
If  caused  by  accident,  it  will  change  colour  once,  twice, 
thrice, — fast  as  the  hues  of  the  rainbow  melt  into  each 
other  and  vanish,  even  when  you  gaze  on  them.  If  death 
overtake  you  by  gradual  decay,  and  in  the  common  course 
of  nature,  other  than  a  gentle  ripple  over  its  surface,  no 
change  will  the  still  water  know  or  tell.  You  under- 
stand me  ?" 

"  I  do." 

"Fully?" 

"  I  conceive  so  '' 

"  Approach,  then.  Gaze  steadfastly  on  that  dark  sur- 
face, and  it  shall  mirror  to  thee,  fully  and  faithfully,  the 
future." 

The  calmer,  and  graver,  and  sadder  of  the  two  advanced 
slowly  to  the  margin  with  a  look  of  mingled  curiosity 
and  incredulity  which  sat  strangely  on  his  heavy,  massive, 
and  somewhat  passionless  features.  In  an  instant  the 
water  rose  at  least  two  feet ;  changed  colour  rapidly, 
and  evidently  more  than  once ;  and  then  became  dark 
and  motionless  as  before. 

"  Ah!  not  far  distant — and  by  accident !" 

The  mystic  made  no  reply  ;  but  merely  motioned  him 


66  THE    FOREiaN    SORCERESS 

by  a  gesture  to  gaze  on.  He  did  so ;  and  as  he  looked 
he  beheld  a  mimic  representation  of  a  scene  of  great  con 
fusion.  Countless  multitudes  were  assembled — there 
was  running  to  and  fro— horsemen  were  riding  in  all 
directions — the  spectators  were  conversing  eagerly  with 
each  other — and  deep  dismay  sat  on  many  a  countenance. 
This  faded  from  the  surface,  and  there  was  presented  to- 
him  a  small  room,  in  what  appeared  to  be  a  road-side 
inn.  Three  or  more  individuals  it  contained,  to  whose 
persons  he  was  a  perfect  stranger.  But  there  was  one 
present  whose  features  he  instantly  recognized — one  who 
was  ever  dear  to  him — his  wife.  Her  countenance  was 
calm,  but  there  was  stamped  on  it  deep  and  indescribable 
distress.  Propped  up  with  pillows  in  the  foreground 
was  a  figure  wiiich  he  instantly  admitted  to  be  his  own. 
But  how  painfully  was  he  pictured  !  The  eye  was 
wandering  and  restless.  Every  feature  bore  the  impress 
of  intense  agony  ;  and  the  face  was  overspread  with  that 
cold,  grey  tint  which  so  surely  foretels  impending  disso- 
lution. He  looked  at  it  steadily  for  a  few  seconds.  A 
sort  of  mist  seemed  to  come  over  his  vision.  He  with- 
drew his  gaze  for  an  instant  from  the  fountain,  and  when 
he  again  resumed  his  observation,  the  painful  scene  had 
wholly  disappeared ! 

His  inquiring  look  of  astonishment  and  emotion  the 
mystic  returned  with  apathy.  The  agitation  manifested 
in  his  countenance  was  strangely  contrasted  by  the  fixed, 
rigid  expression  of  hers.  His  appeared  a  painful  struggle 
with  conflicting  feelings  ;  her  countenance  wore  its  usual 
air  of  cold  and  impassive  indifference. 

"  What!  it's  past  a  joke?"  said  the  younger  of  the  two, 
advancing  gaily  towards  the  fountain :  "the  answer  of 
the  oracle  is  not  palatable,  eh?  Take  your  favourite 
poet's  advice  henceforth  : 

Quid  sit  futurum  eras,  fuge  quserere  ! 

But  now  of  me,  and  to  me,  what  says  the  future?" 

The  water  rose  a  few  inches  and  then  became  station- 
ary. On  its  surface  next  appeared  a  small  chamber; 
limited  in  its  dimensions — humble  in  its  accommodations, 
antique  and  clumsy  in  its  furniture,  and  altogether  pre- 
tensionless  in  its  comforts  and  appointments.  Gardens 
seemed  to  stretch  around  it  of  considerable  extent ;  and 


AND    THE    BRITISH    STATESMAN.  b7 

on  the  mantel-piece  he  remarked  a  small  bronze  clock  of 
singular  shape  and  construction. 

His  attention,  at  once,  became  intently  and  painfully 
fixed. 

"Charles,  as  I  live!"  he  exclaimed,  as  his  eye  rested 
on  the  lineaments  of  a  youth,  who  was  holding  the  hand 
of  a  sick  person,  in  the  full  vigour  of  life,  but  evidently 
racked  with  bodily  agony,  "  The  other  iigure  I  conceive 
to  be  that — that  " — continued  he,  speaking  slowly  and 
after  a  lengthened  pause — "  yes  !  that  of  Charles's  dying 
father!  'Tis  a  painful  spectacle,"  added  he,  turning  from 
the  fountain,  "and  I  know  not  what  benefit  is  to  be  de- 
rived from  a  lengthened  contemplation  of  it.  Come : 
the  day  wears.  We  will  leave  this  clever,  disagreeable, 
and  certainly  most  puzzling  exhibition." 

He  took  his  friend's  arm  as  he  spoke,  and  advanced  to 
pay  his  parting  devoirs  to  the  mystic,  and  with  them  her 
fee.  The  first  she  returned  coldly  :  the  latter  she  per- 
emptorily rejected. 

"  I  am  already  remunerated  ;  amply  remunerated !" 
was  her  unexpected  and  startling  declaration.  "  Sufficient 
honour  for  me  if  I  have  administered  to  the  amusement ; 
the  passing  amusement,'''' — the  bitter  emphasis  placed  on 
this  last  word  conveyed  a  meaning  which  those  whom 
she  addressed  seemed  to  feel  and  shrink  from — "  of  two 
such  distinguished  state  servants  of  his  Britannic  Majesty 
as  Mr.  Huskisson  and  Mr.  Canning !" 

Again,  with  exquisite  mockery,  she  curtsied  still 
deeper  and  more  deferentially  than  before,  and,  ere  they 
could  recover  from  their  surprise,  left  them. 


CHAPTER   IX. 
"nidus  passerum  :"  or  the  "sparrowe's"  nest  at 

IPSWICH. 

"  In  this  church,  St.  Laurence,  are  interred  the  mortal  remains  of  the 
ancient  family  of  the  Sparrowes.  They  appear  to  have  been  long  and 
honourably  connected  with  the  town  of  Ipswich :  one  of  them  having 
served  the  office  of  Bailiff  thirteen  times.  The  inscription  on  the  vault  is 
quaint  enough — "  Nidus  Passerum."  'Tis  a  merry  conceit  on  so  gloomy 
a  subject !  It  seems  to  say — '  here  the  Sparrowes — the  old  birds  and 
the  young — securely  nestle ! '  " 

Rambles  through  the  Eastern  Counties. 

It  may  be  questioned  whether  there  be  a  house  in  the 
kingdom,  belonging  to  a  private  individual,  which  pos- 
sesses greater  interest  for  the  antiquarian  than  that 
inhabited  by  Mr.  Sparrowe,  in  the  Old  Butter  Market, 
Ipswich.  In  truth,  its  attractions  are  manifold.  There 
are  curious  dates  and  inscriptions  for  the  genealogical 
student ;  valuable  old  paintings  for  the  lovers  of  art ;  for 
those  who  hold  the  faith  of  former  days,  vestiges  of  a 
Roman  Catholic  chapel  adroitly  hidden  in  the  rude  loft 
during  troublous  times ;  and  for  the  romantic,  a  legend 
linked  with  the  reverses  of  Royalty. 

The  exterior  of  this  picturesque  dwelling  has  been 
lescribed  and  limned  over  and  over  again.  By  no  Suf- 
folk tourist  or  travelling  artist  have  its  claims  to  notice 
been  overlooked.  Engravings  and  etchings  of  it,  of  vari- 
ous merit,  abound.  But  the  interior  is  less  known.  And 
yet  a  long  summer's  morning  could  be  agreeably  con- 
sumed in  an  examination  of  the  various  relics  of  old  time 
which  it  contains. 

But  before  we  enter  the  mansion,  let  me  notice  one 
curious  fact — that  no  chimneys  are  visible  from  the 
street ;  that  the  four  attic  windows  on  the  roof  form  so 
many  gable-ends ;  and  that  above  the  row  of  windows 


"  SPARROWe's"    nest    at   IPSWICH.  69 

on  the  second  story  is  a  considerable  projection  extending 
the  whole  length  of  the  front,  which  forms,  in  fact,  a 
promenade  on  the  outside  nearly  round  the  house. 

The  entrance-hall  is  noble  :  and  the  ceiling  in  admira- 
ble preservation. 

The  eating-room  is  closely  panelled  in  dark  oak,  glori- 
ously carved,  and  hung  with  original  pictures  by  Gains- 
borough, Sir  Peter  Lely,  and  Sir  Godfrey  Kneller.  So 
profusely  is  this  apartment  ornamented,  that  even  the 
beams  of  the  room  are  as  elaborately  carved  as  the  most 
prominent  part  of  the  wainscot.  The  figures  1567,  con- 
spicuous over  the  mantel-piece,  form  the  date  of  the 
erection  of  the  building. 

Ascending  to  the  first  floor,  you  reach  a  room  extend- 
ing over  the  whole  of  the  front  part  of  the  house — a 
noble  apartment — forty-eight  feet  in  length  by  twenty- 
two  in  width.  Its  walls  are  lined  with  pictures,  all  more 
or  less  interesting:  but  none  so  striking  as  the  portrait 
of  James  the  First.  It  is  a  revolting  picture  ;  and  yet  it 
arrests  and  rivets  your  attention.  You  feel  it  to  be  a 
likeness.  It  is  a  faithful  transcript — you  are  persuaded 
— of  the  features  of  the  party  whom  it  represents.  And 
what  a  transcript !  Avarice,  cruelty,  cowardice,  mean- 
ness, treachery,  sensuality,  all  are  depicted  there.  The 
picture  is  a  study,  were  it  only  for  the  various  expression 
stamped  on  the  canvas.  One  thinks  of  the  monarch's 
victims — the  gallant  Raleigh  and  the  guiltless  Arabella 
Stuart ;  of  the  frightful  disclosures  threatened  by  Sir 
Thomas  Overbury,  and  hushed  only  by  his  sudden  and 
violent  death  in  the  Tower;  of  the  infamous  court 
favourite  (Carr),  and  his  paramour  the  Countess  of  Essex; 
of  their  admitted  share  in  the  Overbury  murder,  and  of 
the  mysterious  and  unexplained  reason  why  the  penalty 
of  death  was  not  inflicted  on  them  ;  of  the  clue  to  the 
king's  lenity  hinted  at  by  more  than  one  historian — that 
Somerset  was  in  possession  of  facts  relative  to  his  royal 
master,  which,  if  revealed,  would  cover  his  name  with 
infamy — a  supposition  which,  with  that  speaking  canvas 
before  us,  it  is  difficult  to  believe  untrue.  Another 
glance  at  this — excuse  the  paradox — attractive  yet  repug- 
nant picture.  A  monster,  not  a  man,  stands  before  you. 
And  he — a  king ! 

Near  this  picture  is  one  which  tradition  has  handed 


70  "  NIDUS    PASSERUM  ."    OR    THE 

down  as  the  portrait  of  a  Romish  persecutor.  One  would 
hardly  have  guessed  as  much  from  the  delicate,  feminine 
features,  and  calm,  soft  eye. 

"  A  persecutor ! " 

What  character  more  hateful  in  the  sight  of  "  The 
Supreme,"  or  more  injurious  to  the  interests  of  real 
religion  ! 

And  yet,  though  there  be  the  furrows  of  age  and  care 
in  that  way-worn  countenance — though  the  light  of 
gladness  seems  quenched  in  the  fading  eye,  and  the  sad- 
dened expression  unquestionably  indicates  one  who  has 
endured  much  in  a  weary  and  lengthened  pilgrimage — 
we  look  in  vain  for  the  haughty  scowl,  the  harsh  and 
cruel  eye,  and  the  angry  flush  of  one  who  is  "  handed 
down  us  as  a  persecutor  and  injurious." 

Between  this  portrait  and  that  of  James  hangs  a 
Magdalene,  by,  it  is  said,  Caracci : — a  voluptuous  picture 
— conveying  anything  but  the  idea  of  one  who  loathed 
the  remembrance  of  the  past,  and  was  preparing  by 
prayer  and  penitence  for  the  solemn  future.  The  ceiling 
of  this  magnificent  room  is  richly  carved,  and  profusely 
ornamented  with  fruit  and  flowers ;  but  its  beauty  is 
marred  by  thick  and  repeated  coats  of  whitewash.  How 
I  longed  to  set  to  work  and  scrape  it  ofi"!  Beyond  ques- 
tion the  ceiling  is  of  oak— dark,  glorious,  enduring  oak  ! 
Woe  betide  the  Vandal  who  first  cased  it  with  white- 
wash !  He  is  past  praying  for  ! 

In  one  corner  of  this  saloon  a  keen  eye  will  detect  a 
small  door.  This  opens  upon  a  staircase  leading  to  the 
roof  of  the  house  :  from  which  issues  a  door-way  to  the 
leads  over  the  wide  eaves  of  the  building.  These  leads 
are  sufficiently  wide  for  two  parties  to  walk  abreast,  and 
every  part  of  the  upper  portion  of  the  building  can  be 
reached  by  them. 

Early  in  the  present  century  a  curious  discovery  was 
made  in  this  upper  story  of  the  house — namely,  that  of 
a  concealed  loft,  without  doubt,  forming  the  roof  of  a 
chapel  the  body  of  which  existed  in  a  room  immediately 
beneath.  "  The  existence  of  this  apartment  was  dis* 
covered  by  the  merest  accident,  the  connection  between 
the  loft  and  the  sitting  room  being  cut  off  by  a  built-up 
wall.  Time  and  damp,  however,  displacing  a  portion  of 
the  plaster,  the  light  of  day  found  its  way  through  the 


"  SPARROWe's"    nest    at    IPSWICH.  71 

opening,  and  the  deserted  sanctuary  was  discovered.  The 
arched  timbers  of  a  slightly  ornamented  roof  exist  within 
it,  and  at  the  time  of  its  being  opened,  the  floor  was 
strewed  with  wooden  angels,  and  such  figures  as  usually 
serve  to  decorate  a  Catholic  oratory.  It  is  supposed  that 
the  chapel  existed  in  a  perfect  state  at  the  date  of  the 
Eeformation;  but  after  that  period  the  open  assumption 
of  the  proscribed  faith  becoming  dangerous,  the  body  of 
this  place  of  worship  was  converted  into  a  common  sitting- 
room,  and  the  roof  concealed  by  a  beamed  ceiling." 

This  discovery  lends  strength  to  the  tradition,  current 
in  the  Sparrowe  family,  that  in  this  excellent  old  house 
Charles  II.  found  a  hiding-place  after  the  fatal  field  of 
Worcester.  "  Where,"  has  often  been  a  perplexing  point 
to  the  various  Sparrowes  who  did  battle  in  defence  of  the 
grateful  legend  that  their  dwelling  had  sheltered  fugitiAe 
royalty. 

This  chapel-chamber  seems  to  clear  up  many  a  diffi- 
culty. Here,  unquestionably,  the  monarch  would  be 
"  closely  tyled."  Those  must  have  been  prying  eyes 
which  could  detect  his  "  whereabouts."  Be  this  as  it 
may,  in  the  absence  of  all  direct  documentary  evidence, 
affirmative  or  negative,  on  this  point,  it  may  be  matter 
of  interesting  inquiry  whether  this  traditionary  refuge  of 
the  king  does  not  explain  the  hint  thrown  out  by  more 
than  one  historical  writer,  that  Charles  had  intended  to 
have  embarked  at  Harwich ;  that  he  had  adherents  to  his 
cause  there  ;  but  they  found  the  port  too  closely  watched 
to  permit  of  his  escape.  Let  it  be  remembered  that  there 
is  an  interval  in  the  prince's  wanderings,  of  which  no 
very  minute  account  is  given.  Was  Harwich — or  its 
neighbourhood — visited  during  that  interval?  Was  there,  in 
point  of  time,  space  enough  for  so  long  a  journey?  Dis- 
appointed at  Bristol,  finding  there  no  bark  by  which  he 
could  seek  a  foreign  home,  we  find  Charles,  on  the  16th 
of  September,  at  Castle  Cary,  in  Somersetshire,  and  on 
the  17th,  at  Trent — Colonel  Wyndham's  house.  Here 
many  days  were  lost  in  vain  endeavours  to  procure  a 
vessel  at  Charmouth  or  Lyme.  How  anxious  Charles 
was  to  escape,  and  how  unwearied  were  the  efforts  of  his 
devoted  adherents  to  procure  him  the  means  of  flight, 
history  over  and  over  again  abundantly  attests.  On  the 
6th  of  October  we  find  him  at  Mrs.  Hyde's,  at  Hele,  near 


72  "  NIDUS    PASSERUM  :"    OR    THE 

Amesbury.  Was  Suffolk  visited  during  this  interval? 
Was  it  at  this  period  that  an  escape  from  Harvs^ich  v^^as 
deemed  feasible?  And  if  so,  did  the  wanderer  find  a 
temporary  home  at  the  mansion  of  the  Sparrowes — a 
family  as  distinguished  for  its  undeviating  loyalty  as  their 
descendant  is  for  professional  integrity — and  was  the 
chapel-chamber  the  king's  resting-place? 

Be  this  fact  or  be  it  conjecture,  there  was,  unquestion- 
ably, a  secret,  stringent,  and  enduring  connection  between 
the  Sparrowe  family  and  the  reigning  Stuart  dynasty — a 
connection  impossible  to  explain  otherwise  than  upon 
grounds  of  some  marked  and  definite  obligation  conferred 
by  the  subject  and  accepted  by  the  monarch. 

Traces  of  this  connection  one  stumbles  on  at  every 
step.  Portraits  of  Charles  II.  tire  in  possession  of  the 
Sparrowe  family — presents,  be  it  remembered,  from  the 
king  himself.  Portraits,  too,  they  hold,  of  various  other 
members  of  that  branch  of  the  Stuart  dynasty,  and  by 
no  ignoble  hand.  The  arms  of  Charles  are  emblazoned 
prominently  on  the  exterior  of  the  old  mansion  ;  and  of 
Mrs.  Lane,  who  took  so  fearless  and  enviable  a  part  in 
the  preservation  of  her  monarch,  the  Sparrowes  hold  a 
miniature  sent  them  by  the  king  himself.  Was  this  to  re- 
mind them  of  the  similar  succour  they  themselves  had  rendered 
him  ? 

In  the  wainscoted  dining-room,  to  which  reference  has 
been  already  made,  there  hangs  a  highly-finished  and  life- 
like portrait,  in  exquisite  preservation,  of  John  Sparrowe, 
who  repeatedly  served  the  office  of  a  bailiff  of  Ipswich. 
It  is  d  glorious  specimen  of  colouring,  by  Gainsborough. 

Near  him,  by  Sir  Peter  Lely — and  exhibiting  all  the 
beauties  and  defects  of  that  great  master — is  a  likeness 
of  Mr.  John  Sparrowe,  father  of  the  gentleman  so  admir- 
ably painted  by  Gainsborough.  Then  we  have  the  stern 
features  of  Sir  John  Sparrowe,  Knight  of  the  Green 
Cloth  in  the  reign  of  James  II.,  handed  down  to  us  by 
the  brush  of  Sir  Godfrey  Kneller. 

There  are  two  Vandykes.  One,  a  likeness  of  Hen- 
rietta Maria,  the  ill-starred  queen  of  the  unfortunate 
Charles  I. :  the  other  is  a  portrait  of  Charles  II. ;  and 
in  colouring,  execution,  and  expression,  a  masterpiece. 
Good  judges  have  held  that  Vandyke  never  painted  a 
finer  picture.     It    represents,  and   vividly,  a  worn-out 


"  SPARROWe's"    nest    at    IPSWICH.  73 

debauchee — one  whose  manhood  was  steeped  in  licenti- 
ousness, and  whom  a  life  of  pleasure,  vulgarly  so  called, 
had  early  and  thoroughly  destroyed.  There  is  nothing 
kingly,  or  dignified,  or  refined,  or  self-reliant,  about  it. 
Grossness  is  stamped  on  every  lineament.  All  is  of  the 
earth,  earthy.  The  animal  predominates  over  the  man. 
It  is  not  the  sovereign — the  ruler  of  a  people,  the  arbiter 
of  the  destinies  of  a  kingdom,  the  supreme  fount  of  jus- 
tice you  are  gazing  on ;  but  a  slave  of  lust,  one  whose 
motto  is,  "  Let  us  eat  and  drink,  for  to-morrow  we 
die;"  one  whom  unbridled  appetite  rules;  who  knows 
no  master  but  his  own  passions  ;  a  callous,  reckless  pro- 
fligate. Those  who  have  read  Miss  Strickland's  "Lives 
of  the  Queens  of  England,"  and  bear  in  memory  her 
elaborate  sketch  of  Catherine  of  Braganza,  in  which  a 
graphic  account  is  given  of  the  last  illness  of  Charles  IL, 
and  of  his  lawless  life  up  to  the  moment  in  which  disease 
laid  him  upon  his  death-bed,  will  be  tempted  to  say,  that 
her  spirited  narrative  and  this  painful  portrait  illustrate 
each  other. 

One  cannot  quit  the  picture  of  Queen  Henrietta  Maria 
without  trying  to  solve  a  riddle  which  the  old  house 
presents. 

From  the  noble  saloon  on  the  first  floor  the  spectator 
passes  through  a  low,  narrow  door,  near  King  James's 
portrait,  and  finds  himself  in  a  bed-room,  in  which  the 
embellishments  of  the  ceiling  are  totaly  changed.  Fruit, 
flowers,  and  family  badges,  the  decorations  of  the  other 
apartments,  disappear,  and  are  here  profusely  superseded 
by  the  fieur-de-lys.  This  alteration  has  a  meaning.  Can 
it  be  thus  explained  ?  Has,  then,  the  faint,  lingering 
legend  any  foundation  that  the  unhappy  queen,  in  one 
of  her  many  journeys  to  and  from  the  continent,  was 
here  a  passing  but  honoured  guest  ?  If  so,  was  this  her 
sleeping  apartment  ?  And  was  the  jieur-de-lys — so  identi- 
fied with  her  native  land — an  emblem  intended  at  once 
to  compliment  the  princess  and  to  commemorate  the 
transient  visit  of  so  distinguished  a  personage  ? 

But  to  pass  from  conjecture  to  certainty. 

From  the  year  1573  this  time-honoured  dwelling  has 

been    inhabited  by  the   Sparrowe   family   only.     It  is 

litera.iy  ^'Nidus  Passerum.^'     I  may  add,  too,  and  I  do  it 

with  honest  pride,  that  the  p-esent  ovmer  is  a  mason — an 

6 


74  "  NIDUS    PASSERUM  :"    ETC 

honoured  member  of  the  fraternity.  His  own  high  sense 
of  honour,  and  unblemished  worth  go  far  to  redeem  from 
obloquy  a  profession  against  which  caustic  tongues 
clamour  loudly  :  a  profession  thus  recently  characterized 
by  high  authority  : — 

"  The  power  of  which,  for  good  or  evil,  as  far  as  the 
worldly  interests  of  the  mass  of  mankind  are  concerned, 
can  scarcely  be  too  strongly  stated — a  profession,  owning, 
I  am  happy  to  be  able  to  say,  so  many  who  would  do 
honour  to  any  calling,  and  who  are  well  aware  that 
sincerity  and  integrity  are  the  surest  guides  to  prosperity 
and  distinction,  and  who  are  true  and  just  from  higher 
motives  and  less  worldly  considerations."^ 

>  Yice-Chancellor  Sir  Knight  Bruce,  on  a  motion  to  remove  the 
of  a  solicitor  from  the  Rolls  Court. 


CHAPTER    X. 

A    MASON    IN    HIGH    PLACES  :    BISHOP    GRISWOLD. 

"  Reduce  Freemasonry  to  the  limits  of  any  particular  religious  insti- 
tution, and  you,  de  facto,  annihilate  its  usefulness  as  a  common  bond  of 
humanity.  Declare  it  to  be,  in  its  maxims,  rites,  and  ceremonies,  ex- 
clusive in  its  character,  and  you,  a  priori,  debase  it  to  that  anti-social 
position  wherein  the  most  rancorous  passions  of  the  human  heart  have 
raged,  to  enkindle  wrath,  envy,  hatred,  and  discord  among  mankind." 

Eev.  H.  Raper  Slade,  D.D. 

"  Nothing  surprises  me  more,"  was  the  remark  of  a 
young  and  intelligent  American  who  had  come  on  a  visit 
to  his  father-land,  "  than  the  influence  of  the  Church  in 
the  old  country.  It  is  marvellous.  We  know  nothing 
of  it  in  the  States." 

"  So  I  should  imagine,"  was  my  reply. 

"  Nothing  at  all,"  continued  he,  musingly ;  "  but  on 
this  side  the  Atlantic,  'Hear  the  Church'  are  words  of 
import.  Two  of  the  ablest  of  your  prelates — Bishop 
Phillpotts  and  Thirlwall — I  had  the  rare  opportunity  of 
hearing  in  the  House  of  Lords  on  the  same  evening.  The 
former  reminds  me  a  good  deal,  in  his  personal  bearing, 
courage,  fluency,  determination,  and  decision,  of  a  model 
churchman  in  our  own  country — Bishop  Griswold." 

"He  differs  from  him,  though,  in  one  respect,  and  that 
an  important  one,"  remarked  a  bystander. 

"Name  it." 

"  In  his  treatment  of  Freemasons  :  Bishop  Griswold 
cherished  them  :  Bishop  Phillpotts  discountenances  them." 

"  He  but  follows  in  that  respect  his  right  reverend 
orethren,"  contended  the  first  speaker. 

"  That  can  hardly  be,  seeing  that  the  present  Bishop 
of  Lincoln  is  a  Mason;  and  further,  that  the  Primate, 
Dr.  Howley,  not  only  belonged  to  the  craft,  but  was 


76  A    MASON    IN    HIGH    PLACES  : 

at  one  period  of  his  life  master  of  a  working  lodge  at 
Bristol." 

"  As  to  Dr.  Grriswold's  favourable  feelings  towards 
Freemasons,"  said  the  young  American,  "  those  are  easily- 
explained  when  you  are  told  that  the  bishop  was  himself 
a  Mason." 

"That  does  surprise  me!"  remarked  a  very  formal 
gentleman,  in  a  most  amusing  tone  of  unequivocal  amaze- 
ment— "  a  bishop — a  Mason  ! !  Oh  dear !  oh  dear !  These 
are  the  latter  days.  What  sort  of  person  was  this  digni- 
tary— in  practice,  I  mean,  as  well  as  intellect?  The  latter, 
I  presume,  was  feeble." 

"Why!"  returned  the  American,  bluntly,  "we  form 
our  opinion  of  an  individual  most  safely  when  we  judge 
him  by  his  acts.  Of  the  party  v,iider  dissection  I  will  give 
a  trait  or  two,  then  say  whether  or  no  his  opinions  are 
entitled  to  respect.  He  was  bishop  of  the  Eastern  dio- 
cese and  senior  bishop  of  the  Episcopal  Church  in  the 
United  States.  As  a  matter  of  course,  many  were  the 
odious  representations  to  which  he  was  obliged  to  listen  ; 
for  in  England,  let  me  tell  you  that  you  have  no  idea  of 
the  minute,  and  jealous,  and  unceasing  surveillance  to 
which,  in  America,  church  clergy  are  hourly  subjected. 
One  morning — this  was  about  a  year  and  a  half  before 
his  death — he  was  surprised  in  his  study  by  a  clergyman, 
who  poured  into  his  unwilling  ear  a  series  of  remarks, 
inuendos,  fears,  doubts,  and  surmises  respecting  the  con- 
duct and  character  of  a  neighbouring  church  minister. 
The  bishop,  apparently,  did  not  heed  him  ;  but  wrote 
on,  assiduously  and  in  silence.  When  his  visitor  had 
completed  his  statement.  Dr.  Oriswold  looked  up  from 
fiis  paper,  and  said,  gravely,  '  I  have  committed  to  writ- 
ing every  syllable  you  have  said  to  me  :  I  will  now  read 
it  over  to  you  deliberately,  paragraph  by  paragraph;  sign 
the  memorandum,  and  I  will  instantly  act  upon  it.' — 
His  visitor  looked  aghast. — '  O  dear,  no  !  by  no  means  !' 
cried  he,  pushing  the  long  catalogue  of  misdemeanors 
away  from  him — '  I  contemplate  nothing  of  the  kind.  I 
merely  called.  Right  Reverend  Sir,  to  put  you  in  posses- 
sion of  certain  rumours,  remarks,  and  suspicions  current, 
respecting  my  unhappy  neighbour;  it  was  a  visit  of  in- 
formation :  nothing  more.' — 'Ah!  very  well !  but  I  will 
teach  you,  Sir,'  said  the  bishop,  *  that  to  a  party  filling 


BISHOP    GRISWOLfl.  77 

my  office  there  can  be  no  such  thing  as  what  you  phrase 
a  '  visit  of  information.^  Mine  are  functions  far  too  solemn 
to  be  trifled  with*  There  can  be  no  gossiping  visits  to 
me.  Sign  this  paper,  taken  down  from  your  own  lips — 
your  own  voluntary,  unasked-for,  and  spontaneous  state- 
ment, be  it  remembered — sign  it,  as  a  needful  preliminary 
to  its  being  laid  before  the  next  Clerical  Convention,  or 
- — I  proceed  against  you.'  The  visitor  grew  paler  and 
paler — hemmed,  coughed,  explained,  and  hawed — still 
flinched  from  substantiating  his  statement.  The  result 
was  speedy.  The  bishop  drove  the  eaves-dropper  from 
his  diocese !" 

"  Would  that  other  official  authorities  were  equally 
proof  against  the  poison  of  eaves-droppers  !"  sighed  the 
formal  gentleman. 

"  An  act  of  self-denial  scarcely  to  be  expected ;  its 
results  would  be  so  horribly  inconvenient,"  suggested  the 
American,  slyly :  "  see  you  not  how  marvellously  it 
would  thin  the  ranks  of  great  men's  toadies  ?" 

"  Adjuncts  which,"  remarked  I,  ''your  bishop,  clearly, 
could  dispense  with." 

"  He  did — and  on  principle,"  observed  my  Transat- 
lantic companion  :  "  in  public,  and  in  private,  he  abhorred 
the  genus.  He  never  allowed  it  to  fasten  on  him  ;  and  to 
this  may  be  ascribed  the  weight  which  attached  to  his 
opinions  and  the  respect  and  reverence  which  waited  on 
him  to  his  last  hour.  During  the  persecution  sustained 
by  Masonry,  some  years  since,  in  America,  a  wealthy 
layman  accosted  the  bishop,  and  after  sundry  insinua- 
tions to  the  discredit  of  a  clergyman,  whom  for  years  he 
had  been  endeavouring  to  injure,  wound  up  with  the 
remark,  '  And  now,  bishop,  you  will  be  shocked— much 
shocked — at  hearing  what  I  am  quite  prepared  to  prove : 
this  man  is — I  have  no  doubt  of  it — A  Mason!' — 'A 
Mason,  is  he?  I  am  one  myself,'  returned  Dr.  Griswold. 
— The  objector  was  flabberghasted. — '  I  wish,'  continued 
the  bishop,  '  all  my  clergy  were  Masons ;  I  wish  they 
all  belonged  to  the  craft ;  provided  they  would  act  up  to 
its  obligations,  and  fulfil  its  engagements.' — '  And  in 
what  may  these  consist?'  said  the  tale-bearer,  hurriedly; 
bent  on  bettering  his  position,  or,  at  all  events,  regaining 
his  composure. — 'I  will  shevv  you  practically,'  returned 
the  bishop,  after  a  short  pause.  '  You  have  sought  me, 
Sir,  with  a  long  and  laboured  statement,  and  have  given 


7b  A    MASON    IN    HIGH    PLACES  : 

me  a  variety  of  details  relative  to  Mr. — ;  you  have 

said  much  that  has  a  tendency  to  injure  him,  and  that  to 
his  ecclesiastical  superior ;  his  failings — and  who  is  v^ith- 
out  them  ? — have  not  escaped  you  ;  his  merits — and  he 
has  many — have  been  barely  adverted  to.  Such  a  con- 
versation as  we  have  had  cannot  but  lead  to  some  im- 
mediate and  grave  result.  Now,  in  awarding  to  it  the 
importance  which  it  may  deserve,  I  will  believe  that  you 
have  been  actuated  by  no  other  than  perfectly  pure  and 
disinterested  feelings ;  I  will  forget  that  between  you 
and  your  minister  there  has  existed  for  years  strong  per- 
sonal dislike  ;  I  will  forget  that  he  once  remonstrated 
with  you,  in  private,  on  the  course  of  life  you  were  then 
leading  ;  and  I  will  further  believe,  that  you  have  yourself, 
altogether,  lost  all  remembrance  of  that  incident!  I  will 
believe,  too,  that,  in  seeking  me  this  morning,  you  had 
no  wish,  whatever,  to  crash  him  ;  that  your  sole  aim  was 
to  benefit  the  church ;  that  your  distinct  object  was,  to 
preclude  from  doing  further  mischief  one  whom  you 
considered  to  be  a  rash  and  an  ill-advised  minister ;  I 
will  believe  that  no  personal  animosity,  no  impulse  of 
private  pique,  no  revengeful  or  malicious  feeling  have, 
in  the  most  remote  degree,  moved  you  ;  but  that  on 
public  grounds,  and  from  religious  considerations,  and 
those  alone,  you  have  sought  me.  This  conclusion  you 
owe  to  Masonry.  That,  Sir,  teaches  me  charity ;  don't 
mistake  me  ;  I  don't  allude  to  mere  alms-giving,  but  to 
charity  in  its  purest,  largest,  most  comprehensive,  and 
most  effective  form — the  charity  which  bids  us  invariably 
init  THE  BEST  construction  uyon  the  acts  and  motives  of 
others.  This  I  learn  from  Masonry.'  Would  you  believe 
'it,"  concluded  the  American,  with  the  most  extraordinary 
and  laughter-moving  twist  of  his  droll  mouth — "  that  the 
rich  planter  never  cared  to  converse  with  Bishop  G-ris- 
wold  afterwards!" 

Ha !  ha !  ha !  burst  from  the  party,  tickled  as  much  by 
ihe  anecdote  as  by  the  contortions  of  the  speaker. 

"But,  was  he  benevolent  as  a  Mason?"  asked  the 
formal  gentleman,  in  a  querulous  tone,  from  his  distant 
corner. 

"  This  I  can  say,  that  to  my  own  knowledge  one  of 
the  fraternity  applied  to  him,  in  a  moment  of  great 
distress.  The  bishop  coolly  demanded  a  clear,  correct, 
and  candid  expae  of  his  position  and  his  perplexities. 


BISHOP    GRISWOLD.  '^9 

How,  bear  in  mind,  the  bishop  was  not  opulent.  Wo, 
have  no  wealthy  prelates  amongst  us.  We  have  no  dean.i 
who  die  worth  fifty  thousand  pounds.  We  have  no 
churchmen  with  large  revenues  at  their  disposal,  and  few 
claims  upon  their  exertions  and  leisure.  These  are  found 
in  the  '  ould  country.'  Dr.  Griswold's  means  were  limited. 
The  petitioner  obeyed,  and  then  named  a  sum.  '  This,^ 
said  he,  'will  relieve  me.'  'No!  no!'  cried  the  bishop, 
'  that  won't  do.  Don't  tell  me  what  will  relieve  you, 
but  what  will  release  you.'  A  further  and  much 
hea-'ner  sum  was  then  stated.  This  the  bishop  raised, 
and  gave  him.  But  by  far  the  largest  donor  on  the  list 
was  himself." 

Our  formal  friend  in  the  corner,  with  his  lugubrious 
tones,  again  struck  in  : — 

"  A  bishop — a  Mason !  I  cannot  understand  it.  I 
presume,  however,  that  Dr.  Griswold  was  not  a  man  of 
mind,  or  a  scholar,  or  a  student,  or  a  man  devoted  to 
literary  research?" 

"  He  was  our  greatest  mathematician  after  Dr.  Bow- 
ditch,"  replied  the  American  firmly  ;  "  a  man  of  indispu- 
table attainments  and  strong  natural  mental  endowments. 
His  domicile  was  Boston,  where  he  had  to  cope  with  no 
less  an  antagonist  than  Dr.  Channing ;  and  this  eloquent 
and  accomplished  advocate  of  opposite  (Unitarian)  views, 
always  spoke  of  the  churchman  as  an  able  and  learned 
man.  This,  remember,  was  the  testimony  of  an  oppo- 
nent." 

"  And  his  faults?" 

"It  is  hardly  fair  to  dwell  on  them.  They  were  lost 
amid  the  brilliancy  of  his  many  virtues.  Those,  who  love 
to  expatiate  on  a  great  man's  failings,  would  say  that  he 
was  somewhat  too  self-reliant,  unbending  in  his  judg- 
ments, and  stern  in  his  reproofs.  But,  towards  the 
decline  of  life,  every  harsh  feeling  mellowed  under  the 
controlling  influence  of  Christian  charity  and  Christian 
love.  He  was  verging  on  seventy-eight  when  he  died. 
In  the  last  week  of  his  life,  he  said  to  a  young  friend,  who 
watched  by  his  sick  couch:— 'We  are,  all  of  us,  apt  to 
think  too  harshly  of  our  fellow-men,  to  reprove  too  will- 
ingly, and  to  condemn  too  exultingly.  But  listen  to  me. 
Forbearance  is  the  great  lesson  of  life.''  A  sentiment  to 
which  his  age  and  experience  lent  strength  ;  and  worthy, 
let  me  a4d,  of  a  bishop  and — a  Masoni" 


CHAPTER    XI. 

A  SOVEREIGN  :  A  LADY  IN  WAITING  :  AND  A  SECRET. 

"  Ambition  thinks  no  face  so  beautiful  as  that  which  looks  from  under 
a  Crown." — Sir  Philip  Sydney. 

There  is  truth,  as  well  as  tenderness,  in  the  observ^a- 
tion  of  Selden,  that  "  it  is  only  when  the  career  of  life  is 
closed,  that  the  character  is  completely  established,  and 
can  be  fairly  estimated."  It  occurred  to  me  forcibly, 
when  I  read  the  demise  of  the  Hon.  Mrs.  Lisle. 

Mrs.  Lisle  was  no  common-place  character.  Hers  was 
no  tranquil  and  ordinary  career.  She  was  one  of  the 
Ladies  of  Honour,  at  a  most  critical  period  of  her 
history,  to  that  unfortunate  princess,  the  late  Queen  of 
England.  I  am  not  now  about  to  rake  up  the  ashes  of 
the  dead,  for  the  purpose  of  kindling  new  flames  among 
the  living.  I  purpose  not  to  speak  with  bitterness  of 
those  who  are  now  gathered  together  in  the  peace  and 
shelter  of  the  grave.  I  call  her  unfortunate,  because  I 
think  few  will  deny  her  claim  to  that  epithet; — still 
fewer  assert  than  she  was  not,  during  the  greater  part  of 
her  life,  and  particularly  the  closing  scenes  of  it,  an 
object  of  the  deepest  pity. 

It  will,  perhaps,  be  remembered  that,  in  the  memora- 
ble investigation  of  1805-6,  the  evidence  of  Mrs.  Lisle 
was  peremptorily  required,  and  minutely  criticized.  Hers 
was  the  only  deposition  which  militated  materially 
against  the  princess.  "  It  is  the  only  part  of  the  case  (thus 
ran  her  letter  to  her  royal  father-in-law)  which  I  conceive 
to  be  in  the  least  against  me,  or  that  rests  upon  a  witness  at  all 
worthy  of  your  Majesty^  credit.''^ 

It  was,  as  some  have  reason  to  know,  the  sole  deposi- 
tion which  the  princess  felt  or  cared  for.  It  was  the  soli- 
tary testimony  which  neither  the  ingenuity  of  Mr.  Perdval 


A   SOVEREIGOV:    A    LADY    IN    WAITING:    ETC.  81 

could  ridicule,  nor  the  arguments  of  Lord  Eldon  invali- 
date. It  contained  one  particular  passage,  the  eifects  of 
which  they  both  "  feared  "  would  "  in  a  certain  quarter 
be  fatal." 

"  Her  Royal  Highness  behaved  to  him  (Capt.  Manby) 
only  as  any  woman  would  who  likes  flirting.  She 
(Mrs.  Lisle)  would  not  have  thought  any  married  woman 
would  ha.ve  behaved  lyroperlij,  who  behaved  as  her  Royal  High- 
ness did  to  Captain  Manby.  She  can't  say  whether  the 
princess  was  attached  to  Captain  Manby,  only  that  it 

was  FLIRTING  CONDUCT." 

They  were  right.  It  was  "  this  sweeping  sentence 
which  went  to  prove  so  much,"  that  the  late  King  was 
heard  more  than  once  to  declare,  he  "  had  tried,  and  tried 
in  vain,  to  banish  from  his  remembrance!"  It  was  to 
this  statement,  short,  but  full  of  meaning,  another  illus- 
trious personage  is  known  again  and  again  to  have  refer- 
red : — "  I  abandon,  to  the  infamy  she  merits.  Lady  Dou- 
glas ;  but — but.  Sire,  the  evidence  of  Mrs.  Lisle!" 

The  secret  history  of  that  evidence  is  known  to  very 
few,  and  it  is  not  uninteresting.  It  shews  what  trifling 
events  often  colour  with  sadness  a  whole  train  of  import- 
ant consequences ;  what  inconceivable  bitterness  may 
be  infused  into  an  important  and  delicate  proceeding, 
by  an  unguarded  sentence,  incautiously  uttered — how 
truly 

"  Many  a  word  at  random  spoken 
May  wound  or  soothe  a  heart  that's  broken." 

When  Mrs.  Lisle  received  the  summons  from  the  Chan- 
cellor (Erskine),  acquainting  her  that  her  evidence  was 
required  before  the  commission  then  sitting,  she  had  just 
perused  the  melancholy  tidings  of  her  daughter's  death. 
If  ever  mother  and  child  were  deeply  and  devotedly 
attached ;-— if  ever  mother  doated  upon  the  external 
loveliness  and  mental  endowments  of  an  idolized  daugh- 
ter ; — if  ever  daughter  reverenced  a  mother's  lofty  and 
unimpeachable  character,  and  remembered,  with  grateful 
and  delightful  accuracy,  a  mother's  ardent  and  unceasing 
love, — these  were  the  sentiments  reciprocally  entertained 
by  Mrs.  Lisle  and  Mrs.  Arbuthnot.^ 

There  were,  moreover,  attendant  circumstances  which, 

»  The  first  wife  of  the  Right  Hon.  Charles  Arbuthnot 


82  A    SOVEREIGN  :    A    LADY    IN    WAITING  : 

in  Mrs.  Lisle's  mind,  deepened  the  gloom  occasioned  by 
Mrs.  Arbuthnot's  death.  She  had  accompanied  her  hus- 
band in  his  embassy  to  Constantinople, — delighted  at  the 
opportunity  of  enriching  her  mind  with  associations 
acquired  from  personal  observation  of  a  country  full  of 
interest,  and  but  little  known.  The  last  letters  that 
flowed  from  her  polished  pen,  and  those  who  knew  her 
best  will  be  the  first  to  do  justice  to  the  brilliancy  of  her 
style,  the  fidelity  and  variety  of  her  descriptive  powers, 
breathed  the  language  of  youth  and  hope,  spoke  of  past 
pleasures,  and  anticipated  future  gratification : — the  next 
account  stated  that  she  was  no  more.  She  died  at  Pera ; 
died  when  the  sad  event  was  utterly  unexpected, — died 
w^hen  the  physician  to  the  embassy  had,  for  some  unex- 
plained reason,  quitted  his  post,  and  native  talent  was 
perforce  resorted  to  ; — died,  except  as  far  as  Mr.  Arbuth- 
not  was  concerned,  in  the  midst  of  strangers,  and  alone. 

Mrs.  Lisle's  agony  beggared  description.  She  wept  in 
unutterable  anguish :— "  I  cannot  appear  before  the 
council !  Half  frantic  and  distracted  as  I  am,  with  my 
heart  swollen  almost  to  bursting  by  this  bitter  bereave- 
ment, and  my  thoughts  all  tending  towards  my  daughter's 
grave, — is  it  possible  I  can  enter  upon  a  subject  which 

requires  such  caution,  such ?    For  God's  sake,  write 

and  entreat  them  to  grant  me  delay." 

The  answer  returned  was  brief  and  harsh.  No  delay 
could  be  afforded.  It  was  scarcely  probable  it  should. 
The  peculiar  circumstances  of  the  case — the  excitement 
prevalent  throughout  the  country — the  feelings  of  the 
parties  interested — the  anxiety  of  the  reigning  monarch 
— all  precluded  the  possibility  of  protracted  delay.    But 

Lord  's   answer   stated   nothing   of  this.      It    was 

couched  briefly,  peremptorily,  urgently.  Most  austerely 
was  it  written,  most  acutely  was  it  felt. 

"This  I  have  not  deserved,"  was  Mrs.  Lisle's  observa- 
tion to  her  tried  and  valued  friend,  Mrs.  Forster.  "Rare 
union  of  matchless  qualities — empty  head,  unfeeling 
heart!  I  go — -unfitted  for  the  ordeal:  I  go — and  the 
blame  be  on  those  who  dragged  me  to  their  tribunal,  if 
my  evidence  be  tinged  by  my  sorrows." 

She  went ;  and  her  evidence  did  take  a  tone  from  the 
grief  that  overwhelmed  her.  This  her  Royal  Highness's 
advisers  at  once  detected,  and  Mrs.  Lisle  never  denied. 


AND    A    SECRET.  83 

*'  Thank  God !  this  most  painful  portion  of  my  life  is 
over,"  was  Mrs.  Lisle's  hurried  exclamation,  as  she  quitted 
the  Council  Chamber;  "  and  now,"  said  she,  as  she  enter- 
ed her  carriage,  "  with  courts  I  have  done  for  ever !  This 
hour  I  resign  my  office." 

"  To  the  princess  ?" 

"  No.  From  the  prince  I  received  my  appointment ; 
to  the  prince  will  I  resign  it." 

In  a  letter  which  bore  the  impress  of  wounded  feelings, 
and  contained  touches  of  the  truest  pathos, — which  de- 
tailed the  painful  struggle  in  her  own  mind, — and  while 
it  paid  the  deference  due  to  her  prince,  kept  steadily  in 
view  what  was  due  to  herself,  she  entreated  permission 
to  lay  at  his  Royal  Highness's  feet  the  appointment 
which  he  had  formerly  conferred  upon  her  in  his  consort's 
household.  A  copy  of  this  afiecting  communication  is 
yet  in  existence.  He,  to  whom  it  was  addressed,  was  far 
too  generous  not  to  ov;^n  its  justice — had  much  too  high 
a  sense  of  honour  not  to  feel  its  truth. 

"  I  am  but  too  sensible  of  the  difficulties  of  Mrs.  Lisle's 
situation.  They  are  certainly  here  very  strongly  stated. 
Yet  the  letter  is  precisely  what  a  high-spirited  and  high- 
principled  woman  like  Mrs.  Lisle  might  be  supposed  to 
have  written ;  and  I  entertain  for  her  undiminished 
respect." 

It  is  very  pleasing  to  think  that  the  individuals  who, 
for  many  years,  were  so  closely  connected,  and  at  last 
were  separated  by  discussions  which  neither  had  foreseen, 
ind  both  lamented,  thought  of  each  other  with  kindly 
feelings  and  Christian  forbearance. 

One  of  the  Queen's  first  inquiries  on  reaching  England 
wae,  "Is  Mrs.  Lisle  living,  and  well?  Where  does  she 
now  reside?"  When  told  that  she  was  living  in  retire- 
ment— that  state  which  she  loved  and  adorned — possessed 
an  ample  independence — uninterrupted  health — 

"And  that  which  should  accompany  old  age, 
As  honour,  love,  obedience,  troops  of  friends," — 

the  Queen  listened  with  evident  pleasure. 

"  I  rejoice  at  it !    Mrs.  Lisle's  evidence,  at  a  former 

period,  occasioned  me  much ;  but  it  is  past.     She 

was  a  woman  who  abhorred  falsehood  and  scorned  dissi- 
mulation ;  and  I  retain  for  her  now  the  same  regard  and 
respect  that  I  ever  felt," 


84  A    SOVEREIGN :    A    LADY    IN    WAITING  :    ETC. 

"  Do  not,  Sir,  inveigh  against  the  Queen — pray  do  not, 
at  least,  in  my  presence,"  was  Mrs.  Lisle's  mild  but  firm 
rebuke  to  a  young  relative,  who  had  taken  the  worst 
possible  view  of,  jjrima  facie,  the  worst  possible  case. 
"  There  are  passages  in  her  life,  and  traits  in  her  charac- 
ter, which  I  must  always  regard  with  admiration.  There 
are  instances  of  kindness  conferred  personally  on  myself 
which  I  can  never  forget.  No !  nothing  shall  ever  make 
me  think  or  speak  harshly  of  Caroline  of  Brunswick!" 
****** 

Connected,  however,  with  this  unhappy  historical 
personage  there  is  a  rumour  which  has  found  credence 
with  parties,  from  their  position  and  general  intelligence, 
not  easily  misled.  It  is  this.  When  the  Queen  found 
herself  in  extremity,  and  was  assured  by  her  medical 
men  that  her  recovery  was  an  utter  impossibility,  she 
desired  Dr.  Lushington  might  be  sent  for;  and  with  him 
had  an  earnest,  lengthened,  private,  and  confidential 
interview.  Disclosures  were  then  made  and  explanations 
given  for  which  the  grave  doctor  was  unprepared;  but 
which  he  solemnly  bound  himself  never  to  divulge.  The 
late  Lord  Hood  was  heard  to  say  that  he  had  some 
grounds  for  suspecting  they,  in  part,  referred  to  the  real 
parentage  of  William  Austin.  Be  their  nature  what  it 
might,  the  veil  of  secrecy  and  silence  has  never  been 
lifted  from  the  avowals  then  made.  So  that  there  are 
secrets  even  among  courtiers  as  impenetrable  as  those 
among  the  Masons ! 


CHAPTER  XII. 

LISTON  :    OR   THE    MELANCHOLY    OF    MIRTH. 

"  Sickness  and  disease  are,  in  many  minds,  the  sources  of  melancholy ; 
but  that  which  is  painful  to  the  body  may  be  profitable  to  the  soul. 
Sickness,  the  mother  of  modesty,  puts  us  in  mind  of  our  mortality,  and 
■while  we  drive  on  heedlessly,  in  the  full  career  of  worldly  pomp  and 
jollity,  kindly  pulls  us  by  the  ear,  and  brings  us  to  a  proper  sense  of  our 
duty." — Burton's  Anatomy  of  Melancholy. 

It  is  stated,  in  a  merry  treatise  upon  Hypochondriasis, 
by  one  who  seems  to  bid  defiance  to  "  the  blues,"  that 
the  following  anecdote  may  be  depended  on  relative  to 
Carlini — -the  drollest  buffoon  that  ever  appeared  on  the 
Italian  stage  at  Paris.  A  French  physician  having  been 
consulted  by  a  person  subject  to  the  most  gloomy  fits  of 
melancholy,  advised  his  patient  to  mix  in  scenes  of  gaiety 
and  dissipation,  and  particularly  to  frequent  the  Itahan 
theatre ;  "  and  if  Carlini  does  not  dispel  your  gloomy 
complaint,"  says  he,  "  your  case  must  be  desperate  in- 
deed !" — "  Alas !  Sir,"  returned  the  patient,  sadly,  and 
as  he  spoke  he  turned  away  from  the  leech  with  an  air 
of  indescribable  disappointment — "  I  myself  am  Carlini, 
and  while  I  divert  all  Paris  with  mirth,  and  make  them 
almost  die  with  laughter,  I  myself  am  perishing  with 
melancholy  and  chagrin  !" 

I  mused  upon  the  moral  of  this  anecdote  when  I  met, 
some  years  ago,  at  the  table  of  a  celebrated  Cheltenham 
physician,  the  popular  mime,  Mr.  Liston. 

"  Don't  fail  us  at  six,  precisely,"  was  the  frank  invite 
of  my  hospitable  host :  "  Liston  and  one  or  two  other 
professionals  dine  with  me :  we  shall  have  music  in  the 
evening :  I  rather  hope  les  Demoiselles  de  Lihu  will  be 
with  us  :  at  all  events,  I  think  I  can  promise  you  an  hour 
or  two's  amusement." 


86  LisTON : 

A  few  minutes  after  the  appointed  hour  I  was  in  the 
Crescent.  A  larger  party  than  I  expected  was  assembled ; 
and,  in  a  corner,  palpably  shrinking  from  observation,  and 
shunning,  as  well  as  he  was  able,  all  communion  with 
his  kind,  sat  a  sallow,  grave,  unhappy-looking  man, 
whom  I  recognized,  at  a  glance,  to  be  Liston. 

Observing  his  distrait  and  saddened  look,  our  host 
went  up  to  him,  and  tried  to  rouse  him  with  some  jocu- 
lar remark.  The  mime  replied  languidly  and  feebly:  and 
if  I  was  struck  with  the  melancholy  of  his  countenance 
when  silent,  much  more  did  its  gloom  surprise  me  when 
he  spoke.  Dinner  was  announced.  By  some  accident  I 
became  his  vis-d-vis.  So  circumstanced,  I  watched  him. 
No  topic  had  power  to  arrest  his  attention.  No  arti- 
fice could  draw  him  into  conversation.  He  ate  little ; 
spoke  less  ;  sighed  heavily  and  frequently;  and  a  stranger 
eyeing  him  for  the  first  time,  would  have  said,  "  There 
sits  a  thoroughly  careworn,  oppressed,  and  saddened  man. 
A  young  and  very  pretty  girl  made  repeated  attempts 
to  engage  him  in  conversation,  and,  by  the  sunshine  of  her 
smiles,  to  banish  his  dejection.  Her  reward  was  a  mono- 
syllable. The  look  of  vexation  and  chagrin  with  which, 
on  a  fifth  failure,  she  regarded  him,  was  diverting  enough. 
Dessert  was  at  length  put  upon  the  table ;  and  the 
ladies  soon  afterwards  withdrew.  The  fair  ones  were 
perplexed.  Chagrin  was  predominant.  •'  Never  more 
disappointed  in  my  life!"  whispered  one. — "This  Mr. 
Liston  !"  murmured  another;  "  why,  he  looks  like  a  man 
who  has  just  returned  from  a  funeral !" — "  Having  buried 
the  dearest  friend  he  had  in  the  world!"  slyly  added  a 
third.  The  actor  was  at  a  discount,  undeniably,  with 
Eve's  daughters.  The  hostess — "Ah!  what  grace  and 
loveliness  are  now  shrouded  in  the  grave !" — laughed 
heartily  as  she  close  the  procession.  Was  it  that  she 
enjoyed  the  perplexity  of  her  guests? — The  ladies  with- 
drawn— politics,  local  topics,  and  Cheltenham  gossip 
became  matters  of  discussion  ;  and  among  the  latter  the 
recent  death,  under  peculiar  circumstances,  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Fotheringaye.  The  former  filled  the  post  of  Master 
of  the  Ceremonies. 

Mrs.  Fotheringaye  was  a  little,  pliable,  worldly,  fluent 
person,  with  "  an  instinctive  attachment " — to  use  her 
own  phrase — "  to  people  of  title  ;"  and  an  enviable  faci- 


OR    THE    MKLANCHOLY    OF    MIRTH.  87 

lity  in  "  turning  rich  folks  to  account."  Stupidity  never 
bored  her,  hauteur  never  abashed  her.  She  held  on  her 
course,  and  looked  to  results.  Her  powers  of  endurance 
were  first-rate.  Night  after  night  was  she  seen  at  the 
card-table — the  very  last  to  leave  it — without  ever 
betraying  the  slightest  symptom  of  weariness,  ruffled 
temper,  or  fatigue.  Her  game  was  loo,  and  she  was 
understood  to  be  a  speculative  but  signally  successful 
player.  The  husband  was  a  pleasant,  gentlemanly,  well- 
bred  man,  who  always  said  the  right  thing  in  the  right 
place,  and  could  relate  a  piquant  anecdote,  and  flatter  a 
fading  dowager,  with  very  considerable  eflect.  His  quali- 
fications for  his  office  were  undeniable. 

Time  rolled  on.  The  lady  was  missing  one  evening 
from  her  accustomed  haunt.  The  loo-table  was  formed, 
but  without  Mrs.  Fotheringaye.  Inquiries  were  made. 
The  answer  given  was,  in  substance,  that  the  absentee 
had  caught  a  slight,  a  very  slight  cold,  was  nursing  her- 
self with  ptisannes,  felt  chilly,  and  was  confined  to  her 
sofa,  but  would  be  visible  on  the  morrow.  The  morrow 
came,  and  brought  with  it  the  astounding  intelligence  that 
Mrs.  Fotheringaye  was  worse,  was  in  danger,  was  given 
over,  was  dying.  The  disease  proved  uncontrollable ! 
A  few  hours — and  she  was  a  corpse  !  For  some  reason 
which  I  cannot  now  recal,  an  early  day  was  fixed  for  the 
interment.  When  it  arrived,  the  husband  was  found  to 
be  seriously  unwell ;  so  much  so,  that  it  was  deemed  ne- 
cessary to  postpone  the  wife's  funeral,  in  order  to  secure 
the  sick  man  from  the  risk  of  being  disturbed  by  it. 
Vain  precaution.  His  malady  increased  in  virulence 
every  hour.  Another  and  more  distant  day  was  named. 
When  it  came,  Mr.  Fotheringaye  was  dying,  and  the 
result  was,  that  one  funeral  procession  and  one  ceremony 
sufficed  for  both. 

The  various  features  of  the  story  were  discussed  in 
detail.  None  seemed  to  like  the  subject,  yet  none  cared 
to  change  it. 

"  I  was  in  Cambray  street  when  the  procession  moved," 
chirruped  a  thin,  reedy  voice  from  the  lower  end  of  the 
table,  "  and  saw  the  two  hearses  come  up  in  succession, 
with  poor  Fotheringaye  in  one,  and  his  wife  in  the  other. 
It  was  a  frightful  spectacle.  On  my  honour,  I  felt  un- 
nerved." 


88  LisTON : 

"  You  might  well  do  so !"  said,  with  a  reproachful  air, 
a  very  stern-looking  gentleman  ;  "  it  was  a  sad  close  to  a 
life  absorbed  in  gaiety  and  trifles." 

"  Don't  attend  to  what  he  says,"  whispered  a  voice  on 
my  left ;  "  he's  one  of  Mr.  Jervis's  people !" 

"  I've  never  slept  soundly  since  I  learnt  the  particu- 
lars," exclaimed  a  pale,  sickly  young  man,  who  sat  near 
our  host ;  "  it's  a  horrid  story — shall  we  dismiss  it  ?" 

To  my  surprise,  Liston,  who  had  listened  with  evident 
gusto  to  the  narrative,  now  asked,  in  a  low,  quiet  tone,  a 
variety  of  questions,  and  shewed  evident  anxiety  to  be  in 
possession  of  every  particular. 

"  Pray  say  no  more  about  it,"  said  our  host  j  "  it  is  far 
too  gloomy  an  exit  to  be  converted  into  an  after-dinner 
topic." 

Liston  looked  up,  and  said  emphatically :  *'  Is  it  not 
rather  an  enviable  release  from  the  hirden  of  life  .?" 

It  was  the  only  complete  and  connected  sentence  he 
uttered  the  whole  evening. 

Some  years  after  the  Cheltenham  party  above  referred 
to,  three  gentlemen  w^ere  seated  on  one  of  the  benches 
which  are  placed  at  intervals  upon  the  Denn,  at  Teign- 
mouth — tempting  resting-places  for  the  infirm,  the  aged, 
and  the  indolent.  It  was  long  past  sunset.  The  heat 
of  the  day— even  for  July — had  been  oppressive,  and  the 
breeze  from  the  sea  was  grateful  and  bracing.  In  the 
adjoining  cathedral  town,  the  assize-week  and  the  race- 
week  had  followed  each  other  at  a  short  interval :  gaiety 
was  the  order  of  the  day ;  London  stars  had,  in  succes- 
sion, glittered  at  the  theatre,  and  Exeter  had  been  a 
scene  of  unwonted  bustle  and  animation.  These  and 
other  topics  had  been  discussed,  ad  libitum,  by  the  lazy 
trio  ;  and  they  scarce  heeded,  in  the  twilight,  that  a 
fourth  individual  had  joined  their  party,  and  was  seated 
at  the  extreme  end  of  the  bench  on  which  they  were 
resting. 

"  Would  that  I  had  been  in  Exeter  this  evening,"  sigh- 
ed, rather  than  said,  the  youngest  of  the  three.  "I 
should  like  to  have  heard  Miss  Stephens  as  Rosetta." 

''What!"  said  another,  "prefer  the  heat,  and  the 
crowd,  and  the  bustle  of  a  close,  stifling  theatre,  to  the 
freshness,  and  the  beauty,  and  the  calm  of  a  scene  like 
this!     Out  upon  such  taste." 


OR   THE    MELANCHOLY    OF    MIRTH.  89 

"  I  like  a  theatre!"  said  the  young  man.  "  I  like  the 
illusion,  the  excitement  of  the  hour." 

"  And  the  foolery  and  nonsense,  the  absurdity  and  the 
ribaldry,"  added  the  other.  "  Come  ;  be  candid.  You 
are  one  of  Liston's  men.  Him  you  never  miss  at  any 
sacrifice." 

"  Last  evening  was  the  closing  night  of  his  engage- 
ment— his  benefit,  and  I  left  Exeter  at  mid-day." 

"  To-night  you  lament  it?" 

"  To  be  candid,  I  do ;  ah !  it  must  be  a  joyous  life 
that  of  a  first-rate  actor :  there  are  no  triumphs,  I  am  per- 
suaded, like  those  of  an  established  favourite.  I  allude, 
of  course,  to  the  career  of  no  subordinate,  but  to  a  chief, 
a  leader." 

"  And  yet,"  cried  the  stranger,  abruptly  joining  in  our 
conversation,  "  I  have  seen  Mrs.  Jordan  sobbing  behind 
the  scenes,  as  if  her  heart  would  break;  and  this,  after 
she  had  been  delighting  a  brilliant  audience  with  her  life- 
like gaiety  and  merriment ;  and  I  know  she  was  a  wretch- 
ed woman,  for  I  have  seen  her  weep  bitterly — weep  as 
'  one  that  would  not  be  comforted'  by  the  half-hour 
together." 

We  knew  not  for  the  moment  what  to  make  of  the 
speaker,  of  his  information,  of  the  deference  due  to  his 
experience,  of  his  opportunities  for  observation,  and  thus 
were  silent.  After  a  pause,  the  stage-smitten  one  re- 
marked, 

"  There  are  peculiarities  about  Mrs.  Jordan's  case  which 
will  apply  to  no  other ;  and  I  repeat  the  theatre  is  a 
school  of  morals." 

"A  place,"  took  up  the  stranger,  "where  lessons  may 
be  learnt  in  one  hour,  which  if  put  in  practice  would 
colour  with  infamy  a  whole  life.  I  might  further  say — 
but  enough." 

He  took  a  prodigious  pinch  of  snuff,  bowed,  and 
walked  off. 

"A  cool  hand  !"  cried  one. 

"A  very  odd  fellow  that !"  said  another. 

"A  character!"  exclaimed  a  third. 

We  were  not  far  wrong.     It  was  Liston. 

"Years  again  intervened ;  and  I  had  lost  sight  of  this 
cautious  and  prudent  man  altogether ;  when  calling  on  a 
friend,  she  said,  on  my  rising  to  take  leave — 
7 


90  LisTON : 

"  I  think  I  have  a  treat  in  store  for  you :  you  are  fond 
of  the  remarlcahles.  Remain  where  you  are  ten  minutes 
longer,  and  you  will  see  Liston.  He  will  be  here  this 
morning." 

"  On  no  theatrical  errand,  I  presume?" 

"  Oh  dear,  no  !"  said  she,  laughing ;  "he  comes  here 
to  inquire  the  character  of  a  servant.  You  remember 
Jacob  ?  Now  Jacob  was  very  dirty ;  and  kept  neither 
his  carriage  nor  his  horse  as  he  should  have  done  :  he 
was  in  truth  a  sloven  ;  but  Jacob  has  a  most  staid,  grave, 
thoughtful,  imposing  air,  and  this  has  caught  Mr.  Liston. 
I  rather  think  the  wealthy  actor  intends  to  take  him. 
If  so,  Jacob  has  fallen  upon  his  feet.  For  Mr.  Liston 
is  a  kind  master." 

"  But  how  can  you,  possibly,  recommend  him  ?" 

"Pardon  me  ;  I  do  nothing  of  the  kind:  I  merely  state 
the  tmth  respecting  him.  He  is  entitled  to  an  honest, 
candid  statement :  and  that  I  give.  But,  hush  !  Mr. 
Liston  is  here."  A  door  opened,  and  the  retired  come- 
dian appeared. 

I  was  struck  with  the  ravages — many,  deep,  and  dis- 
tinct— left  by  the  wear  and  tear  of  professional  life ;  ill- 
health  and  hypochondriasis  should  perhaps  be  added. 
His  complexion  was  that  of  a  man  who  had  spent  twenty 
years  in  Bengal.  And  as  I  scanned  him  it  struck  me  he 
had  the  gait,  feebleness,  bent  form,  and  lassitude  of 
seventy.  Further ;  he  looked  as  he  advanced  towards  us 
— I  will  not  say  dispirited  and  ill  at  ease,  for  those  terms 
do  not  convey  the  expression  of  his  features — he  seemed 
distressed  and  woe-begone  to  the  last  degree. 

My  companion  quietly  murmured,  as  he  came  up : — - 
"  Did  you  ever  meet  with  a  more  desponding  visage?  He 
looks  as  if  he  had  not  a  friend  in  the  world  or  a  penny 
in  his  pocket." 

With  a  most  wretched  air  he  took  possession  of  the 
first  chair  that  presented  itself,  and  commenced  his  in- 
quiries. Jacob's  careless  and  untidy  habits  seemed  venial. 
The  point  he  was  most  desirous  to  ascertain  was  this — 
whether  Jacob  was  a  party  likely  to  conform,  cheerfully 
and  willingly,  to  the  religious  observances  of  a  somewhat 
strict  household.  The  manner  in  which  he  expressed 
himself  on  this  head  was  remarkable.  There  was  no- 
thing of  Pharisaical  ostentation ; — nothing  of  the  cant  or 


OR    THE    MELANCHOLY   OF    MIRTH.  91 

shibboleth  of  a  party  ; — but  much  of  good  sense  :  much 
of  deep  and  earnest  religious  feeling.  I  listened  to  him 
carefully;  and  methought,  at  the  close  of  the  conver- 
sation, "  In  my  hearing,  at  least,  the  remark  must  never 
in  future  pass  without  determined  protest — that  '  it  is 
impossible  an  actor  can  be  other  than  an  irreligious  cha- 
racter !'  " 

Some  six  or  eight  months  after  his  interview  I  was 
conversing  with  l  London  clergyman  about  the  peculiar 
sphere  of  duty  presented  to  active  piety  in  the  metro- 
polis. He  spoke  of  a  fellow-labourer  who  had  a  large 
congregation,  and  in  it  many  excellent  and  exemplary 
characters.  "But,"  said  he,  "there  is  one  of  his  hearers 
of  whom  more  than  all  the  rest  I  envy  him  the  adherence. 
He  is  a  rigidly  religious  man  :  stern  towards  himself:  but 
most  lenient  in  his  judgment  of  others.  He  is  of  all  men 
I  ever  met  the  most  thoroughly  conscientious.  I  only 
wish  his  religion  was  of  a  more  cheerful  cast." 

"  May  I  ask  his  name  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  ought  to  give  it  to  you.  I  think 
I  should  withhold  it.  It  will  call  up  associations  of  an 
absurd  description." 

"Nay:  you  have  now  irritated  my  curiosity;  pray 
gratify  it?" 

He  hesitated  for  a  moment ;  and  then  said — "  Liston." 


CHAPTER    XIII, 


THE    JURYMAN    MASON. 


"  The  melanclioly,  which  comes  over  me  with  the  recollection  of  past 
afflictions  and  disappointments,  is  not  hurtful,  but  only  tends  to  soften 
and  tranquillize  my  mind,  to  detach  me  from  the  restlessness  of  human 
pursuits.  The  stronger  I  feel  this  detachment,  the  more  I  find  myself 
drawn  heavenward  to  the  contemplation  of  spiritual  objects.  I  love  to 
keep  old  friendships  alive  and  warm  within  me,  because  1  expect  a 
renewal  of  them  in  the  World  of  Spirits.  I  am  a  wandering  and  un- 
connected thing  on  the  earth.  I  have  made  no  new  friendships  that  can 
compensate  me  for  the  loss  of  the  old — and  the  more  I  know  mankind  the 
more  does  it  become  necessary  for  me  to  supply  their  loss  by  little 
images,  recollections,  and  circumstances  of  past  pleasures." 

Charles  Lamb  (Elia) . 

It  is  the  deep-seated  conviction  of  our  ablest  masonic 
writers,  that  Masonry  is  best  understood  and  best  exem- 
plified where  it  constitutes  a  secret  but  electric  bond  of 
brotherhood  ;  jperpeUially  existent ;  prepared  for  every  emer- 
gency ;  and  prompt  at  all  seasons  and  under  all  circum- 
stances to  display  itself  in  action.  To  constitute  this 
bond  there  must  be  sympathy,  courage,  child-like  confi- 
dence, instant  co-operation,  and  unity. 

Is  this  rare  combination  of  qualities  ever  instanced  in 
every-day  life  ? 

I  think  it  is. 

The  little  court  at was  crowded.    A  trial  was  on 

before  Mr.  Justice  Grazelee  which  excited  considerable 
attention.  It  involved  a  question  of  identity ;  and  a 
question  of  character ;  and  presented  more  than  one 
debatable  point  for  the  gaping  crowd  to  cudgel  their 
brains  about.  The  facts  were  these.  Mrs.  Harper,  a  lady 
whose  purse  was  heavy  and  whose  passion  for  dress  was 
great,  went  into  the  shop  of  Messrs.  Steele  and  Whitten- 
bury,  silk  mercers,  to  inspect  some  foreign  shawls.     The 


THE    JURYMAN    MASON.  93 

lady's  taste  was  somewhat  difficult  to  hit ;  and  a  bale  of 
shawls  was  turned  over,  and  an  entire  morning  spent  be- 
fore a  shawl  could  be  found  of  which  the  colour,  size, 
and  texture  were  such  as,  thoroughly,  to  satisfy  Mrs. 
Harper's  fastidious  eye.  At  last,  to  Mr.  Whittenbury's 
infinite  relief,  tliis  doubtful  result  was  attained ;  and  the 
lady  proceeded  to  pay  for  her  purchase.  She  looked  on 
her  right  hand  and  on  her  left ;  turned  first  crimson  and 
then  pale  ;  gazed  around  her  with  a  most  indignant  air ; 
and  finally  said  firmly  to  the  wondering  Mr.  Whitten- 
bury— 

"  I  will  thank  you  to  find  my  purse ;  I  laid  it  upon 
these  gloves  three  minutes  ago;  you  and  you  only  have 
served  at  this  counter ;  a  bank-note  for  fifty  pounds — I 
have  the  number — lay  in  a  corner  of  that  purse ;  I  beg  it 
may  be  at  once  forthcoming." 

Mr.  Whittenburj^  looked  aghast  at  this  imputation  on 
his  honesty,  and  blurted  forth  some  incoherent  disclaimer, 
when  one  of  his  assistants  drawled  out — 

"Who  was  that  party  that  left  the  shop  so  suddenly 
without  making  any  purchase  ?   Can  he  be  the  thief?" 

"He's  not  out  of  sight!  I'll  follow  him!"  screamed, 
rather  than  said,  the  senior  partner,  Mr.  Steele ;  and, 
suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  started  after  the  supposed 
delinquent  with  an  alacrity  and  energy  wholly  irrecon- 
cilable with  his  portly  form  and  wheezy  breathing. 

Pending  the  absence  of  his  principal,  Mr.  Whittenbury 
indulged  in  a  strain  of  the  most  elaborate  imagery,  all 
levelled  at  the  resolute  Mrs.  Harper. 

"  For  the  first  time  in  my  life  have  I  had  the  finger  of 
scorn  pointed  at  me !  I,  who  have  so  far  played  my  part 
on  the  motley  stage  of  existence  without  my  fair  name 
ever  being  sullied  with  the  breath  of  slander.  All  my 
actions  have  been  weighed  in  the  scales  of  Justice. 
Equally  would  I  loathe  injuring  my  neighbour's  fame,  or 
abstracting  a  penny  from  his  purse." 

"I  wish  I  saw  mine  again!"  remarked  the  matter-of- 
fact  Mrs.  Harper. 

Mr.  Whittenbury  rather  winced  at  this  last  remark ; 
then  pitched  his  voice  a  note  higher,  and  proceeded. 

"  Hitherto  my  career  has  been  peaceful ;  but  now  the 
winds  of  adversity  assail  me  from  a  quarter — from  a 
quarter — from  a  quarter  that- " 


^4  THE    JURYMAN    MASON. 

The  speaker  paused  from  sheer  perplexity  how  to 
finish  his  sentence. 

"  Well !  never  mind  the  quarter !"  cried  the  anti- 
sentimental  Mrs.  Harper — "  attend  to  me.  Somebody- 
has  raised  the  wind  at  my  expense.  That's  but  too 
evident.  I  want  to  see  my  fifty-pound  note  again,  and  I 
shall  not  leave  this  shop  till  I  do." 

"Madam!"  rejoined  the  distracted  draper,  "Aere  it 
cannot  be.  The  accumulated  experience  of  two-and- 
twenty  years  assures  me  of  the  unimpeachable  integrity 
of  those  around  me.  We,  Madam,  in  this  establishment, 
rise  superior  to  temptation  ;  we  are  proof  against  it :  for 
note -" 

"Ah!  where  is  it?"  interrupted  the  undaunted  claim- 
ant;— "I  don't  want  words,  but  paper;  once  more,  my 
note?" 

^^  Was  it  ever  lost  ?^^  demanded  the  desperate  Whitten- 
bury,  with  a  very  successful  sneer. 

"So!"  cried  the  lady  ;  "you're  come  to  that,  eh?  A 
subterfuge!  a  juggle!  Hah!  I  understand  you !  You 
insinuate  that  I  had  neither  purse  nor  money  when  I 
entered  your  shop.  No  note,  eh?  I'll  make  you  change 
yours,  depend  upon  it.  You  shall  sing  to  another  tune; 
and  that  shortly.  Neither  purse  nor  money  had  I,  eh  ? 
That's  your  meaning,  is  it?" 

"  No,  no  !  Madam,  we  don't  say  that,  yet !"  interposed 
Mr.  Steele,  who  now  made  his  appearance,  panting  from 
exertion  and  purple  in  face,  from  the  unexpected  de- 
mands made  upon  the  activity  of  his  lungs,  and  their  utter 
inability  to  answer  them.  "  We  have  a  question — ugh  ! 
ugh  !  ugh  !  or  two — oh  dear,  this  cough  !  to  put — ugh  ! 
ugh !  to  this  party,"  and  he  pointed  to  a  young,  feeble, 
and  timid-looking  young  man  who  followed  him  into  the 
shop  "  with  unwilling  step  and  slow,"  and  upon  whom 
Mr.  Steele  seemed  to  exercise  something  rather  more 
stringent  than  mere  "  moral  compulsion."  A  policeman 
appeared  in  the  doorway.  A  crowd  surrounded  the  shop, 
and  eagerly  gazed  in  at  the  windows.  "  Now,  Sir  !"  cried 
Mr.  Steele,  with  emphasis,  being  in  better  wind — "  we 
don't  wish  to  be  other  than  courteous  ;  will  you  submit 
to  be  searched,  without  further  struggle  or  ceremony?" 

The  latter  word  sounded  oddly  enough :  with  the 
policeman  standing  in  the  background,  and  two  dark 


THE    JURYMAN    MASON.  95 

objects,  which  had  a  very  awkward  resemblance  to 
handcuffs,  lying  on  the  counter; — and  so  the  prisoner 
seemed  to  think,  for  he  smiled  painfully  as  he  answered  : — 

"Come,  come — no  gaffing;  say  what  I  am  brought 
here  for,  and  by  whose  order  ?  Out  with  it !  What  have 
I  dune  amiss?" 

"  Much  to  this  lady.  Her  purse  is  missing.  That  purse 
contained  a  fifty-pound  note,  and  we  believe  you  could 
tell  us  something  about  it." 

"  I  cannot,"  returned  the  youth,  in  a  calm,  firm  tone, 
and  with  an  air  of  ingenuousness  and  honesty  which  pre- 
possessed a  few  of  the  by-standers  in  his  favour;  "I 
know  nothing  of  the  lady ;  never  saw  her  purse ;  never 
saw  her  note  ;  know  nothing  at  all  about  the  matter." 

"  You  stood  by  her  side  at  least  ten  minutes,"  observed 
Mr.  Whittenbury — speaking  for  once  in  his  life  without 
the  aid  of  trope  or  figure — "  you  made  no  purchase  ;  you 
bolted  from  the  shop  suddenly,  and  started  off  at  a  run  ; 
and  within  two  minutes  afterwards  the  purse  was  miss- 
ing. This  is  highly  suspicious,  and  I  insist  on  your  being 
searched." 

"  I  left  the  shop,"  said  the  young  man — still  speaking 
in  the  same  calm  deliberate  tone — "because  I  could  not 
get  served.  I  waited  not  ten,  but  full  twenty  minutes 
before  any  one  of  your  young  men  would  ask  what  I 
wanted.  I  don't  blame  them.  I  don't  blame  you.  Of 
course  a  rich  customer  must  be  waited  on  before  a  poor 
one.  I  ran  because  I  knew  I  should  be  late  for  my 
mother's  funeral,  hurry  as  I  would.  The  parson  required 
us  to  be  at  the  church-gate  by  three." 

"  And  what  might  a  person  of  your  stamp  need  from 
our  establishment  ?"  said  Mr.  Steele,  with  an  air  of  un- 
feeling pomposity,  which  contrasted  strongly  with  the 
mild  and  deprecating  tone  in  which  the  prisoner  replied — 

"  A  small  piece  of  crape  to  put  round  my  hat :  it  was 
all,  and  indeed,  the  only  mourning  I  could  afford!" 

"Gammon!"  cried  the  policeman.  "I  take  it  upon 
myself  to  say  that's  gammon." 

"Oh!  you  know  him,  do  you?"  inquired  Mr.  Steele, 
sarcastically. 

"  Perfectly !  Parfectly  well ;  and  have  for  years,"  re- 
turned A,  No.  175. 

"Now  are  you  not  surprised,  Madam?"    cried  Mr. 


96  THE    JURYMAN    MASON. 

Steele,  delightedly,  turning  from  the  policeman  to  the 
lady—"  are  you  not  surprised  at  the  wickedness  of  human 
nature?" 

"No!  nothing  surprises  me!"  returned  the  fair  one, 
bluntly:  "nothing  upon  this  earth  ever  can  or  will  sur- 
prise me  more,  after  the  way  in  which  my  purse  has 
vanished,  while  I  was — as  I  may  truly  say — actually 
sitting  by  and  looking  at  it." 

"  It  shall  be  found,  Madam  ;  it  shall  be  found,"  per- 
sisted Whittenbury. 

"  Set  about  it,  then,"  said  the  lady  sharply :  "  act,  and 
don't  chatter.  Oh  !"  cried  she,  yawning  fearfully,  "how 
hungry,  weary,  and  worried  I  am!" 

"  I  trust.  Madam,  that  you  do  not  believe  that  I  am  the 
guilty  party — that  I  stole,  or  that  I  hold  one  farthing  of 
your  money?"  said  the  accused,  with  an  earnest  and 
deferential  air. 

"Know  nothing  about  you!"  returned  the  lady 
promptly  ;  "  nothing  whatever  ;  not  even  your  name." 

"  Ralph  Wortham,"  returned  he,  frankly ;  "  a  name 
that — let  this  policeman  say  what  he  may — has  never 
yet  had  '  thief  added  to  it,  and,  I  trust  in  God,  never 
will." 

"  Search  him,"  cried  Mr.  Steele,  furiously  advancing 
towards  Wortham  as  he  spoke,  with  a  menacing  air,  and 
beckoning  on  Mr.  Whittenbury  to  his  assistance. 

"  Have  a  care.  Sir,  how  you  handle  me,"  cried  Wortham, 
firmly;  "I  will  not  be  turned  inside  out  by  you:  the 
policeman  is  the  proper  party " 

"  Pooh !  I  stand  on  no  ceremony !"  ejaculated  the  rash 
Mr.  Steele,  most  unadvisedly  collaring  the  pliant  form 
beside  him. 

"  Nor  I! "  returned  the  assailed.  And  he  then  tipped 
Mr.  Steele  a  rattler  that  could  hardly  have  been  expected 
from  one  so  slight  in  form,  and,  apparently,  so  deficient 
in  strength.  Again  did  the  senior  partner  aim  at  grasp- 
ing his  victim.  Wortham  closed  with  him  ;  and,  after  a 
gentle  shaking,  sent  Mr.  Steele  spinning  across  the  floor 
into  the  arms  of  the  amazed  Whittenbury. 

"  Oh  mercy!"  cried  Mrs.  Harper,  "here  will  be  blood- 
shed !"  and  then  recollecting  a  word  which  ladies  can 
invariably  command  in  the  midst  of  the  most  desperate 
encounters,  screamed  with  all  her  might=— "Murder !" 


THE    JURYMAN    MASON.  97 

At  this  word  of  ill  omen  the  policeman,  the  junior 
partner,  and  "  Mr.  Whittenbury's  young  men,"  all  rushed 
upon  the  unfortunate  Wortham,  whom  they  speedily 
dragged,  with  united  effort,  to  an  inner  room,  where  they 
summarily  searched  him.  There  was  a  strange  clamour 
for  a  few  seconds.  Half  a  dozen  parties  seemed  voci- 
ferating all  together;  and  at  a  very  high  note  in  the 
gamut.  On  a  sudden  the  uproar  lulled.  The  policeman 
appeared  in  the  doorway,  and,  addressing  the  weary  Mrs. 
Harper,  inquired  whether  she  could  "  tell  him  the  number 
of  the  note  which  she  had  lost." 

"  Unquestionably  I  can.  I  remember  it  perfectly : 
No.  3,746." 

"Its  amount?" 

"  Fifty  pounds." 

"  Was  it  a  provincial  note  or  a  Bank  of  England 
note?" 

"  A  Bank  of  England  note :  I  had  no  other." 

"Had  it  any  mark  or  signature  that  you  can  recollect 
on  the  back?" 

"  Yes  :  '  Philip  Furze '  was  written  in  one  corner  ;  and 
I  put  my  own  initials,  M.  H.,  in  another.  I  can  swear 
to  the  note  among  a  thousand." 

"This  is  it,  Madam,  I  believe!"  said  the  policeman, 
holding  up,  with  a  most  complacent  air,  a  soiled  and 
crumpled  piece  of  paper ;  "  we  have  lighted  on  it,  to- 
gether with  a  purse,  in  the  coat-pocket  of  that  dutiful 
young  vagabond." 

"Mine!  both  mine!"  cried  the  lady,  delightedly. 
"Grive  me  them.  I  claim  them,  and  am  too  happy  to 
recover  them." 

"  Madam,"  said  Mr.  Whittenbury — his  partner,  Steele, 
being  far  too  stiff  and  sore  to  indulge  in  oratory—"  we 
are  in  fetters  ;  we  have  no  free-will ;  we  are  bond-slaves ; 
we  cannot  hand  over  to  you  either  note  or  purse,  be- 
cause we  dare  not.     We  must  prosecute  !" 

"Fetters!  Free-will!  Bond-slaves!  Fiddle-faddle!" 
responded  the  lady  :  "  the  note  is  mine,  and  the  purse  is 
mine  ;  and  both  I  must  and  will  have." 

"Alas!  alas!"  murmured  the  soft-voiced  mercer — 
"your  commands,  on  any  other  subject,  we  should  have 
been  but  too  proud  to  obey.  The  law  of  the  land  is  now 
our  master  :  we  must  proceed  to  the  nearest  magistrate ; 


98  THE    JURYMAN    MASON. 

acquaint  him  with  the  details  of  this  deplorable  occur- 
rence ;  take  his  instructions,  and  abide  by  them.  Police- 
man!"— here  he  waved  his  hand  with  an  air  that  would 
have  drawn  a  round  from  the  gallery  of  any  one  of  the 
minors — "  Policeman,  you  know  your  duty  :  perform  it !" 

"  Hah!"  cried  the  lady,  starting  to  her  feet  and  look- 
ing, beyond  all  question,  remarkably  red  and  wroth—"  do 
you  presume  to  lay  down  the  law  to  me  !  Have  you  the 
assurance  to  maintain  that  it  can  be  either  legal  or  just 
to  detain  my  note  and  my  purse,  when  I  have  already 
identified  the  one,  and  can  swear  to  the  other  ?" 

"  The  law,  Madam,  is  omnipotent.  To  its  require- 
ments we  must  all  submit.  Pray  acquiesce  in  what  is 
"unavoidable  without  further  remonstrance." 

The  lady  paused,  then  slowly  took  up  her  handker- 
chief and  card-case,  and  prepared  to  depart.  Ere  she 
did  so  she  turned  to  the  shrinking  Mr.  Steele,  and  said 
distinctly — 

"  You  have  had  many  a  profitable  visit  from  me  at  this 
counter.  No  small  sum  has  from  time  to  time  passed 
from  my  hands  into  yours  ;  but  if  I  ever  again  enter  your 
shop,  may  I  be  strangled  with  the  first  shawl  you  shew 
me!" 

"  Now  !  heaven,  in  its  mercy,  avert  such  a  calamity 
from  such  a  desirable  ready-money  customer  !"  promptly 
ejaculated  the  much  perplexed  Whittenbury. 

Such  were  the  circumstances — pardon  the  long  digres- 
sion, patient  reader  ! — on  which  the  trial  then  proceeding 
in  the  little  court  at was  founded.  The  general  im- 
pression was  against  the  prisoner.  The  fact  of  the  money 
being  found  upon  him,  and  the  determined  resistance 
which  it  was  understood  he  had  offered  to  being  search- 
ed, appeared  conclusive  of  his  guilt. '  He,  undauntedly, 
maintained  his  innocence.  Much  as'  appearances  told 
against  him,  he  declared  that  he  had  never  taken  Mrs. 
Harper's  money  ;  or  dreamt  of  taking  it  ;  that  he  had 
never  seen  either  her  purse  or  fifty-pound  note  until  the 
policeman  drev/  them  forth,  to  his  (Wortham's)  distress 
and  surprise,  from  the  side-pocket  in  his  jacket.  He 
stood  in  the  dock,  haggard,  emaciated,  and  apparently 
friendless.  Want  of  means  had  disabled  him  from  re- 
taining a  counsel.  A  preconcerted  and  well-sustained 
line  of  defence  was,  therefore,  out  of  the  question.    Nor, 


tH-E    JURYMAN    MASON.  99 

if  counsel's  aid  had  been  his  from  the  first,  did  it  appear 
clear  how  the  accused  could  have  successfully  rebutted 
the  strong  presumptive  evidence  against  him. 

The  clerk  of  the  arraigns  then  read  the  indictment. 
Had  it  referred  to  the  stealing  of  a  tomtit,  and  the  pen- 
alty been  the  fine  of  a  farthing,  payable  some  fifty  years 
hence,  greater  unconcern  could  not  well  have  been  mani- 
fested. With  a  hideous  nasal  twang  he  wound  up  with 
the  formal  inquiry — 

"  How  say  you,  prisoner,  ai'e  you  guilty  of  the  offence 
charged  against  you  in  this  indictment '?" 

"  Not  guilty  !"  said  a  firm,  strong  voice. 

"  You  say  you  are  '  not  guilty  ;'  "  and  then  some  horrid 
mumbling,  and  a  repetition  of  much  nasal  intonation 
ensued,  of  which  the  only  intelligible  accents  were  the 
closing  ones  "  good  deliverance." 

The  counsel  for  the  prosecution  now  took  up  his  brief; 
and  in  very  temperate  language  opened,  with  extreme 
fairness  and  moderation,  the  case  against  Wortham.  At 
the  close  of  his  statement,  the  judge  inquired  "who 
was  counsel  for  the  prisoner." 

The  answer  was  then  given,  "  the  prisoner  was  unde- 
fended." 

"  Why?"  asked  his  lordship,  in  a  low  tone. 

"  Want  of  means,"  said  Wortham  boldly  :  "  I  had 
but  five  shillings  in  the  world;  and  those  were  taken 
from  me." 

Few  as  these  words  were,  and  uttered  with  no  cringing 
and  servile  air,  but  with  the  spirit  and  freedom  of  one 
who  was  conscious  of  his  innocence,  and  hopeful  to 
establish  it,  they  arrested  the  attention  of  that  just  man 
to  whom  they  were  addressed.  He  raised  his  eyes  from 
his  notes  and  gazed  steadily  and  fixedly  at  the  prisoner. 
Apparently  the  impression  left  by  this  scrutiny  was  satis- 
factory. His  lordship  turned  towards  the  barristers' 
table,  and  said,  with  feeling  : — 

"  This  is  a  serious  case  for  the  prisoner.  He  ought  not 
to  be  undefended.  Perhaps  some  gentleman  at  the  bar 
will  undertake  to  watch  the  case  on  the  prisoner's  behalf?" 

There  was  a  movement  among  the  juniors  ;  but — such 
are  the  bands  of  professional  etiquette — no  individual  ad- 
vocate put  himself  prominently  forward  or  responded, 
promptly,  to  his  lordship's  appeal. 


100  THE    JURYMAN    MASON. 

"  Mr.  Laconstone,"  continued  his  lordship,  "  you  will 
perhaps  kindly  give  the  prisoner  the  benefit  of  your  com- 
petent knowledge  of  criminal  law  ?" 

The  young  pleader,  so  flatteringly  addressed,  instantly 
bowed  his  acquiescence  in  his  lordship's  request ;  made  a 
snatch  at  his  bag,  gathered  up  his  papers,  ran  across  the 
table,  and  in  a  few  seconds  placed  himself  immediately 
below  the  felon's  dock  where  he  could  communicate 
without  difficulty  with  his  client. 

Now  Mr.  Laconstone,  to  Wortham's  cost,  laboured 
under  the  most  decided  impression  that  he  was  a  speaker. 
"  The  gods,"  he  felt  convinced,  "  had  made  him  elo- 
quent." He  was  not  quite  clear  whether  he  did  not  sur- 
pass Lord  Brougham  in  vigorous  diction  and  apt  and  ready 
sarcasm.  He  approached  Lord  Lyndhurst  very  closely 
— of  that  he  was  quite  sure — in  the  order  and  clearness 
of  his  statements :  and  the  irresistible  force  of  his  argu- 
ment. A  little  more  practice  was  requisite,  and  he  should 
beat  Canning  upon  his  own  ground.  He  had  no  fears 
whatever  on  the  subject.  He  would  beat  him  not  onl}'- 
in  the  wit,  and  point,  and  finish  of  his  oral  efforts,  but  in 
their  excellent  flow  and  rhythm.  In  a  word,  Mr.  Lacon- 
stone had  the  impression  that  he  was  a  promising  and 
very  remarkable  and  rising  young  man.  His  forte^  how- 
ever, was  oratory.  He  was  an  advocate.  Some  wag, — 
as  a  joke, — assured  him  that  he  much  resembled  in 
manner,  voice,  and  fluency  the  most  accomplished  advo- 
cate of  modern  times,  Scarlett.  He  took  the  remark  as 
serious ;  and  subsequently  spoke  of  Baron  Abinger  as  his 
model. "  At  some  public  dinner  he  sat  next  a  grey-headed 
functionary  who  told  him  he  had  known  intimately  the 
celebrated  pleader  when  junior  at  the  bar,  and  could  say 
— having  heard  the  statement  from  his  own  lips — that  in 
criminal  cases  when  engaged  for  the  defence,  he  "  in- 
variably regarded  and  treated  the  accused  party — be  his 
asseverations  of  innocence  ever  so  earnest  and  repeated 
— as  really  criminal.  He  found  this'  idea  serviceable. 
So  perilous  an  impression  roused  his  energies,  and  kept 
his  attention  perpetually  on  the  qui  vim.'''  Mr.  Laconstone 
accepted  this  tradition  as  genuine,  and  relied  upon  it. 
It  struck  him  as  being  remarkably  fine.  It  was  valuable. 
He  should  reduce  it  to  practice.  It  was  a  legacy.  It 
embodied  a  principle.     It  might  be  worth  many  import- 


THE    JURYMAN    MASON.  101 

ant  verdicts.  All !  What  might  it  not  eventually  insure 
him  ?  The  ermine  and  a  peerage  !  What  it  did  iuime- 
diately  insure  him  was  this — the  conviction  on  somewhat 
doubtful  evidence  of  three  unhappy  men  for  whom  he 
was  concerned  !  A  straightforward  jury  was  unable  to 
understand  his  various  quirks  and  quibbles.  He  treated 
his  own  client  as  guilty.  The  jury  thought  he  surely 
ought  to  know  best ;  and  they  could  not  possibly  err  in 
agreeing  with  hhn  !  They  framed  their  verdict  accord- 
ingly. Still  Mr.  Laconstone  thought  his  principle  sound, 
and  abided  by  it. 

Upon  this  conviction  he  persisted  in  acting ;  and 
the  case  of  the  unfortunate  Wortham  came  in  most  op- 
portunely as  a  further  exposition  of  the  "Abinger" 
principle.  Remonstrance  was  vain.  The  poor  fellow  in 
the  dock,  in  an  earnest  whisper  to  his  counsel,  solemnly 
avowed  his  innocence.  Mr.  Laconstone  listened  ;  gave  a 
knowing  shake  of  his  head,  equivalent  to— "  Of  course 
you're  innocent :  never  knew  a  prisoner  otherwise :  up 
to  all  that :  and  shall  take  my  own  course."  So  that 
while  the  accused,  agonized  at  his  position,  and  conscious 
that  he  was  not  the  thief,  begged  and  implored  that 
"  every  witness  might  be  well  questioned,"  and  the 
whole  matter  "  opened  up  from  beginning  to  end,"  his 
advocate  thought  "the  less  the  affair  was  stirred  the 
better.  The  case  was  bad;  he  should  reserve  himself" 
for  his  speech  ! 

The  first  witness  called  was  Mrs.  Harper.  She  sailed 
majestically  into  court,  accompanied  by  an  elderly  friend 
of  most  forbidding  aspect.  Both  ladies,  by  the  sheriff's 
order,  had  seats  on  the  bench.  Never  had  the  owner  of 
the  stolen  note  felt  greater  self-complacency.  She  was 
very  handsomely  dressed.  She  had  a  part  to  play.  She 
had  a  crowded  audience  for  spectators.  She  sat  in  high 
places.  She  was  within  three  of  the  judge.  She  was  a 
person  of  importance.  All  eyes  would  be  fixed  on  her. 
She  was  the  leading  witness  in  the  case.  Her  testimony 
was  most  material.  It  would  be  reported  in  the  county 
paper.  Very  possibly  counsel  would  comment  on  it. 
And  the  honey-drop  was — she  should  recover  her  pro- 
perty !  The  day  was  all  sunshine.  She  was  on  the  very 
eve  of  becoming  celebrated.  She  was  satisfied  with  her-^ 
self  and  all  the  world ! 


102  THE    JURYMAN    MASON. 

"Grace  Harper"  was  called.  And  Grace  Harper 
rose  ;  and  shewed  a  handsome  face  under  a  most  becom- 
ing bonnet ;  curtsied  gracefully  to  the  judge ;  and  told 
her  story. 

She  was,  in  counsel's  language,  a  capital  evidence. 
Her  statement  was  clear ;  calmly  and  resolutely  given. 
It  hung  well  together.  There  was  no  inconsistency  :  no 
contradictory  point  about  it.  She  was  neither  fluttered 
nor  abashed  in  dealing  with  the  various  questions  put  to 
her ;  spoke  distinctly ;  and  was  accurate  as  to  dates. 
The  judge  inquired  if  the  prisoner's  counsel  had  any 
questions  to  put  to  this  lady.  Mr.  Laconstone  declined 
to  cross-examine.  The  prisoner,  hurriedly  and  in  a  low 
voice,  made  a  remark  to  him.  Mr.  Laconstone  was  still 
passive.  His  thoughts  were  busily  employed  upon  his 
coming  speech.  Wortham  looked  wretchedly  distressed. 
Some  point  not  quite  clear  seemed  to  strike  the  judge. 
He  mused  a  moment,  and  then  asked  the  lady  : — 

"  When  did  you  see  your  purse  again  after  the  prisoner 
left  the  shop  in  the  hurried  way  you  have  described?" 

"  Not  until  I  saw  it  in  the  policeman's  custody." 

"  You  mean  to  swear  that  the  purse  was  lying  before 
you  on  your  handkerchief  up  to  the  time  the  prisoner 
quitted  the  shop?" 

"I  do." 

"  And  you  never  saw  it  afterwards :  even  for  a 
moment  ?  " 

Mrs.  Harper  paused. 

"I  have  no  recollection  of  seeing  it.  I  think  I  did 
not.  To  the  best  of  my  knowledge  and  belief  I  did 
not." 

The  judge  put  this  reply  upon  his  notes  :  and  the 
prosecuting  counsel  called  the  next  witness. 

Mr.  Whittenbury  rose  in  the  box.  His  evidence,  ten- 
dered in  his  usual  figurative  style,  referred  to  the  restless 
and  uneasy  deportment  of  the  prisoner  while  waiting  at 
the  counter.  He  declared  he  had  never  watched  the 
movements  of  a  more  mercurial  individual.  The  airiness 
of  his  deportment  reminded  him  of  vacillations ^" 

The  judge  frowned. 

"  What  are  you,  Sir  ?"  said  he. 

"  A  mercer,  my  Lord." 

"Then  express  yourself  in  intelligible  and  ordinary 


THE    JURYMAN    MASON.  103 

language,  and  not  in  such  absurd  and  high-flown 
terms." 

Mr.  Whittenbury  was  nettled  beyond  concealment; 
sulked  ;  affected  deafness,  and  then  said  pettishly : — 

"  Perhaps  my  evidence  can  be  dispensed  with  alto- 
gether?" 

The  judge  eyed  him  sternly  for  some  moments,  and 
then  said  with  emphasis  : — 

"If  you  misconduct  yourself  in  this  court,  I  shall 
commit  you." 

Mr.  Whittenbury  was  cowed,  and  then,  bursting  with 
chagrin,  condescended  to  speak  plainly.  His  cross- 
examination  w^as  brief,  and  so  managed  by  Mr.  Lacon- 
stone  as  to  strengthen  the  case  against  the  prisoner. 

Isham  Dadd,  a  shop-assistant,  was  next  called  on.  He 
deposed  to  seeing  the  purse  on  the  counter  before  Mrs. 
Harper  ;  to  missing  it  immediately  after  Wortham's  exit; 
to  the  abrupt  manner  in  which  the  prisoner  quitted  the 
shop  ;  and  to  the  fact  of  his  making  no  purchase. 

There  was  something  sinister  in  the  mode  in  which 
this  witness  gave  his  evidence.  He  hesitated  repeatedly  ; 
looked  pale  and  ill  at  ease  ;  and  studiously  avoided  meet- 
ing the  prisoner's  eye.  His  voice,  too,  was  disagreeable. 
Some  would  have  called  it  hypocritical.  It  was  wiry  and 
high-pitched.  He  spoke  in  the  falsetto  key.  The  ex- 
pression of  his  eye  was  subtle  and  his  attitude  crouching. 
Altogether,  a  more  sinister-looking  personage  has  rarely 
appeared  as  witness  in  a  court  of  justice. 

Him  also  Mr.  Laconstone  declined  to  subject  to  cross- 
examination. 

He  had  made  a  rapid  and  joyous  descent  from  the 
witness-box,  when  the  judge  desired  him  to  be  recalled. 

"  How  long  have  you  been  in  the  employment  of 
Steele  and  Whittenbury?" 

"Four  years." 

"  During  that  period,  has  any  occurence  of  a  similar 
nature  taken  place  upon  the  premises  ?" 

Dadd's  pale  complexion  assumed  a  more  ashy  hue : 
apart  from  this  he  gave  no  indication  that  he  had  heard 
the  question. 

"  You  understand  his  lordship  ?"  said  the  junior  counsel 
for  the  prosecution,  feeling  somewhat  puzzled  by  the 
silence  of  the  witness. 


104  THE    JURYMAN    MASON. 

Dadd's  lips  moved,  but  not  a  word  was  audible. 

"I  asked  you,"  said  the  judge,  "whether,  during  the 
period  you  have  lived  with  your  employers — four  years 
you  state — any  similar  loss  has  come  to  your  know- 
ledge ?" 

"  One  lady  said  she  had  lost  some  money,"  was  the 
sulky  answer,  most  unwillingly  given. 

"  Was  she  a  customer?" 

"  She  was." 

"Was  the  money  ever  traced?" 

"  Not  to  my  knowledge." 

"Did  the  loss  take  place  in  the  shop?" 

"It  did." 

"  And  the  missing  money  was  never — that  you  heard 
of — recovered?" 

"No." 

"How  many  shop-assistants  do  Messrs.  Steele  and 
Whittenbury  keep  ?" 

"In  the  whole,  nine." 

The  senior  partner  next  presented  himself  He  deposed 
to  pursuing  the  prisoner ;  overtaking  him  ;  requiring  him 
to  be  searched ;  to  the  resistance  which  he  made  ;  and  to 
the  amount  of  personal  suffering  which  he,  the  fat  and 
wheezy  Mr.  Steele,  endured  in  the  encounter. 

He  gave  his  evidence  in  a  decided,  business-like  tone ; 
and  the  point  in  it  which  told  most  against  the  prisoner 
was  this — the  minute  detail  embodied  in  Steele's  testi- 
mony of  Wortham's  unwillingness  to  be  searched. 

The  concluding  witness  was  the  policeman,  who  de- 
posed to  searching  the  prisoner :  finding  on  him  the 
missing  purse  and  note  ;  and  to  Mrs.  Harper's  at  once 
describing  and  identifying  both. 

The  prosecutor's  case  seemed  complete. 

The  judge  now  called  on  the  accused  for  his  defence; 
and  Mr.  Laconstone  began  his  address  to  the  jury. 

It  would  be  injustice  to  withhold  from  it  this  praise — 
that  it  was  a  clever,  off-hand,  fluent  speech.  But  it  was 
altogether  declamatory.  It  presupposed  Wortham's  guilt 
throughout.  And  it  never  allowed  the  listener  a  respite 
from  the  fact  that  the  prisoner  had  the  great  good  fortune 
to  have  Mr.  Laconstone  as  his  advocate.  One  point,  by 
no  means  immaterial,  he  left  altogether  untouched, 
namely,  that,  long  previous  to  Wortham's  committal,  a 


THE    JURYMAN    MASON.  105 

purse  liad  been  missed  by  a  lady-customer  in  this  fasiiion- 
able  shop,  and  never  recovered.  With  a  happy  compli- 
ment to  the  judge,  and  another  to  the  jury,  he  drew 
towards  a  close  ;  intimated  that  he  should  call  witnesses 
as  to  character,  and  then  leave  the  case  to  their  merciful 
consideration. 

The  witnesses  alluded  to  answered  to  their  names,  and 
gave  highly  favourable  testimony  in  the  prisoner's  behalf. 
They  confirmed,  amply,  every  assertion  which  he  had 
made  when  first  taken  into  custody.     They  proved  that 

his  errand  to  the  little  town  of —  was  to  atten,d  his 

mother's  funeral ;  and  that  her  funeral  had  been  fixed,  as 
he  had  said,  for  "three  o'clock  precisely,  by  the  officiat- 
ing clergyman."  They  swore  that  he  had  left  the  house 
where  he  was  staying  for  the  purpose  of  buying  a  bit  of 
crape  to  put  round  his  hat,  "  which  was  all  the  mourning 
he  could  afford."  In  reply  to  a  question  from  one  of  the 
jury,  the  witness  under  examination  stated  that  the  pri- 
soner was  "  friendless ;  that  he  had  neither  father  nor 
mother,  nor  any  near  relative  in  the  wide  world." 

"  What  is  he  '?"  said  the  judge  :  "  what  is  his  calling  ?" 

"  He  has  been  a  sailor,"  was  the  answer,  "  and  thrice 
shipwrecked,  losing  each  time  every  rag  of  clothing  he 
had.  Now  he's  a  clerk — a  collecting  clerk  I  think  they 
call  him — on  board  a  river-steamer." 

The  greatest  impression  left  on  the  auditory  was  made 
by  the  last  witness — a  superannuated  pilot — a  venerable 
looking  old  man  with  a  profusion  of  glossy  white  hair,  a 
keen  bright  eye,  and  an  honest  and  contented  smile.  He 
said  he  had  known  the  prisoner  "  for  a  matter  of  eighteen 
years,"  and  had  had  never  heard  any  "  harm  of  him,  but 
much  in  his  praise."  Once  to  his  knowledge  he  had 
saved  a  man,  who  had  fallen  overboard,  by  jumping  after 
him  and  keeping  a  firm  hold  on  him  till  help  could 
be  had.  "  Some  gem'men  made  a  subscription,  and 
handed  it  to  him.  He  wouldn't  have  it.  No  !  Not  he. 
He  said  he  '  didn't  want  to  pocket  money  for  saving  a 
fellow-creature!'  A  likely  chap  that!"  concluded  the 
old  seaman,  with  a  most  contemptuous  air,  "  to  turn 
pickpocket !  to  go  into  one  o'  them  cussed  vanity  shops 
and  steal  a  lady's  puss.     Yah  !" 

There   was   a  hearty  cheer  in   court  as  the  old  mao 
turned  indignantly  away. 
8 


106  THE    JURYMAN    MASON. 

The  judge  instantly  repressed  this  burst  of  public 
feeling,  and  proceeded  to  sum  up. 

Calm,  dignified,  and  impressive,  he  seemed  by  the  im- 
partiality of  his  statements,  and  the  sustained  suavity  of 
his  manner,  the  very  impersonation  of  justice.  His 
powers  of  analysis — and  they  were  great — were  instantly 
brought  to  bear  upon  the  case :  and  in  a  very  few  sen- 
tences he  presented  to  the  jury  the  whole  transaction, 
thoroughly  divested  of  the  false  colouring  which  the  ex- 
aggerated statements  of  counsel  had  thrown  around  it. 
He  travelled  quickly  through  the  testimony  of  Mrs. 
Harper  and  Isham  Dadd ;  and  laid  stress  upon  the  cir- 
cumstance of  the  purse  and  note  being  both  found  on  the 
prisoner's  person,  and  on  the  resistance  made  by  him  to 
the  necessary  search.  On  the  other  hand,  he  reminded 
the  jury  of  the  fact  elicited  from  Dadd  during  his  examina- 
tion in  chief,  that  money  had  been  previously  lost  by  a 
lady  in  that  very  shop  and  never  recovered.  The  prison- 
er's defence  was  that  he  had  not  stolen  the  purse  or  the 
note.  That  he  was  not  aware  that  they  were  upon  him  : 
and  that  they  must  have  been  put  in  the  side-pocket  of 
his  jacket  by  another  person.  He  made  no  attempt  to 
support  this  statement — somewhat  improbable  upon  the 
very  face  of  it — by  any  evidence.  The  jury's  province 
was  to  judge  to  what  degree  of  belief  such  a  defence  was 
entitled. 

Then  followed  the  question  of  character.  The  tes- 
timony given  in  Wortham's  favour  the  judge  read  over 
slowly,  deliberately,  and  emphatically.  Then  came  his 
comment.  -'Character,"  he  remarked,  "  could  not  avail 
but  in  cases  where  there  was  conflicting  evidence — cases 
where  there  was  absence  of  proof:  character  could  never 
be  allowed  to  outweigh  facts." 

The  prisoner  listened,  anxiously,  to  this  remark,  and 
its  purport  seemed  to  cut  him  to  the  very  soul.  An  ex- 
pression of  deep,  unmitigated,  indescribable  anguish 
passed  over  his  countenance.  The  muscles  about  the 
mouth  worked  convulsively  for  some  seconds  ;  and  then 
— the  nervous  action  suddenly  ceasing — his  face  assumed 
the  ghastliness  and  rigidity  of  a  corpse.  Despair,  for  the 
moment,  had  the  mastery. 

Suddenly  a  thought  struck  him.  He  stood  up  erect  in 
the  dock,  and  looked  the  jury  down.     Face  after  face  he 


THE    JURYMAN    MASON.  107 

eagerly  and  rapidly  scanned ;  and  then  came  a  slight 
gesture.  Its  nature  I  could  nofc  well  define  ;  nor  can  I, 
for  obvious  reasons,  describe  it  now.  But  I  fancied  I  saw 
it  answered.  Low  down  in  the  second  row  of  the  jury- 
box  sat  a  diminutive,  dark-visaged  man,  with  a  truly 
Spanish  face  and  flashing  eye,  whom  I  had  regarded 
earnestly,  from  time  to  Ijime,  for  his  singular  resemblance 
to  Kean.  For  distinction's  sake  I  will  term  this  Spanish- 
looking  personage  the  eleventh  juror.  He  had  paid,  from 
first  to  last,  close  attention  to  the  case ;  and  had  more 
than  once  put  a  pertinent  question  to  a  witness.  His  eye 
— for  I  watched  him  narrowly — rested  with  a  stern  and 
inquiring  gaze  upon  the  prisoner ;  and  then  his  Vy^iole 
countenance  lit  up  with  a  kind  and  encouraging  expres- 
sion. Whatever  was  the  nature  of  their  communication, 
and  whatever  the  medium  through  which  information  wSs 
conveyed,  I  was  convinced  that  the  prisoner  and  No.  11 
understood  each  other  ;  and  with  redoubled  curiosity  I 
awaited  the  result. 

The  judge  still  proceeded  to  charge  the  jury,  but  his 
observations  were  on  the  point  of  closing. 

"  You  have  now  the  whole  of  the  facts  belonging  to 
the  case  before  you ;  upon  those  facts  it  is  your  pro- 
vince to  decide  ;  that  decision,  you  must  be  well  aware,  is 
most  important  to  the  prisoner  :  if,  after  the  declarations 
on  oath  of  the  various  witnesses  called  before  you,  you 
entertain  any  reasonable  doubt,  it  is  your  duty  to  give 
the  prisoner  the  benefit  of  such  doubt :  your  verdict  in 
that  case  will  be  an  acquittal." 

His  lordship  sunk  back  in  his  soft  and  well-cushioned 
easy-chair,  looking  somewhat  faint  and  exhausted;  and 
the  clerk  of  ariaigns  instantly  was  ready  with  his  nasal 
roar : — 

"  Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  consider  your  verdict." 

The  jury  turned  round  in  their  box  to  consult  and 
agree.  And  the  while  a  species  of  running  comment  on 
the  trial  might  be  heard  here  and  there  buzzing  about  the 
hall. 

"Case  too  clear  to  admit  of  doubt!" — "Ingenious 
defence,  but  flimsy  !" — "  Transportation  to  a  certainty  !" 
— "  Young  to  leave  his  country  for  fourteen  or  twenty 
years!" — "A  first  offence,  doubtless,  poor  fellow!" — 
'•Hasn't  the  look  of  a  hardened  thief!" 


108  THE    JURYMAN    MASON. 

Time  went  on.  Three, — five, — ten  minutes  elapsed. 
Still  the  jury  seemed  absorbed  in  an  earnest  and  even 
angry  debate.  At  length  the  foreman  turned  round  and 
addressed  the  j  udge. 

"My  lord,  one  of  the  jury  seems  to  think  that  Mrs. 
Harper  hasn't  identified  the  note — she  hasn't  sworn  to  it 
in  court." 

His  lordship  seemed  for  a  moment  struck  by  the  objec- 
tion. Perhaps  the  interruption  might  annoy  him.  He 
looked,  for  a  judge,  slightly  flushed,  and  fidgeted.  After 
a  brief  pause,  during  which  he  consulted  his  notes,  the 
dicUim  came  forth  : — 

"Mrs.  Harper  identified  both  note  and  purse  in  Steele 
and  Whittenbury's  shop ;  identified  them  immediately 
after  their  having  been  taken  from  the  person  of  the  pri- 
soner: she  has  sworn  to  that  efiect  in  the  witness-box." 

"But,  my  lord,  they  were  not  shewn  to  her  in  court — 
she  did  not  swear  to  them  in  court.  She  did  not  identify 
them  in  the  jury's  presence  and  hearing,  and  in  open 
court  say  they  were  hers." 

So  persisted  the  eleventh  juror,  who  was  spokesman. 

"  Mrs.  Harper  has  identified  her  property  with  suffici- 
ent accuracy  and  decision  for  the  purpose  of  public  jus- 
tice," returned  his  lordship,  stiffly. 

The  jury  again  consulted.  But  in  vain.  After  a  short 
pause,  the  foreman  said,  piteously : — 

"  We  cannot  agree,  my  lord;  we  wish  to  retire." 

The  judge  at  once  assented. 

"  Call  a  fresh  jury ;  and  give  these  gentlemen  in 
charge  of  the  proper  officer.  Let  them  be  locked  up  ; 
and  him  sworn  to  their  legal  and  efficient  custody." 

With  rueful  glances  the  twelve,  slowly,  withdrew. 
An  hour  went  by,  and  again  they  came  into  court. 
They  required — using  the  foreman  as  their  mouthpiece 
— "fresh  instructions  and  further  information  from  his 
lordship." 

"On  what  point?" 

"  The  resistance  made  by  the  prisoner  when  searched ; 
some  of  the  jury  are  of  opinion  that  he  did  not  resist." 

Again  the  judge  turned  to  his  notes. 

"  Resistance  he,  unquestionably,  ofiered.  It  is  so  stated 
on  oath.  The  evidence  of  Mr.  Steele  is  conclusive  on 
the  point." 


THE    JURYMAN    MASON.  109 

And  the  judge  here  read,  seriatim,  from  his  notes  what 
that  worthy  had  undergone,  in  his  love  for  justice,  upon 
his  own  premises ! 

The  eleventh  juror  here  remarked,  with  much  defer- 
ence of  manner,  that  he  had  listened  with  extreme 
earnestness  to  the  evidence,  and  his  impression  was,  that 
the  prisoner  had  not  objected  to  being  searched,  but  to 
being  searched  by  an  interested  and  unauthorized  person. 

A  glorious  apple  of  discord  proved  this  skilfully  con- 
trived observation.  It  brought  three  counsel  on  their 
legs  at  once  ;  and  the  judge  to  his  notes  once  more.  Mr. 
Laconstone  rose  and  spouted  for  his  client.  The  prose- 
cuting counsel,  senior  and  junior,  had  also  their  say; 
and  the  judge,  as  a  matter  of  course,  had  to  act  as  um- 
pire. After  a  sharp  burst  of  wrangling,  it  was  agreed 
that  the  prisoner  had  not  objected  to  being  searched,  but 
to  being  searched  by  an  unauthorized  ijerson ;  that  Mr. 
Steele  put  himself  forward  to  perform  this  obnoxious 
duty ;  that  the  prisoner  then  resisted,  and  that  to  Mr. 
Steele's  cost.  The  jury  again  retired.  Three  hours 
went  by.  Twilight  gave  way  to  darkness.  The  court 
sat  late.  There  was  a  heavy  cause  before  it,  and  the 
judge  seemed  resolute  that  no  sacrifice  of  personal  com- 
fort on  his  part  should  be  wanting  to  expedite  public 
business.  At  seven  a  message  was  delivered  by  the 
proper  officer  to  the  court.  "An  elderly  gentleman  was 
on  the  jury  who  was  subject  to  fits ;  and,  as  in  Wort- 
ham's  case,  there  seemed  to  him  no  prospect  of  the 
jury's  agreeing,  and  as,  if  they  did  not  agree,  they  would 
have  to  sit  up  all  night,  he  begged  that  he,  for  one, 
might  be  dismissed.  He  had  not  slept  out  of  his  own 
bed  for  a  matter  of  three-and-forty  years  !  (Some  wicked 
creatures  in  court  were  hardened  enough  to  laugh  at 
this  authentic  and  touching  statement.)  If  he  did  not 
go  to  bed  at  his  own  hour,  in  his  own  dwelling,  he  knew 
very  well  what  would  be  the  consequences.  Might  he, 
therefore,  go?" 

It  was  signified  to  this  afliicted  old  gentleman  that  the 
judge,  at  present,  had  no  powder  to  release  him. 

Time  sped  on.  Ten  o'clock  arrived.  The  court  was 
on  the  point  of  breaking  up,  when  it  was  intimated  that 
the  jury  in  Wortham's  case  were  unanimous,  and  wished 
to  deliver   their  verdict.     In   they  came.     Some  very 


110  THE    JURYMAN    MASON. 

flushed,  very  angry,  and  very  jaded  faces  were  visible  in 
the  group ;  but  in  the  dark,  flashing  eye  of  my  Spanish- 
looking  friend — his  name  I  subsequently  ascertained  to 
be  Zillett — there  was  undisguised  triumph. 

The  clerk  of  the  arraigns,  taking  up  his  customary 
snore,  inquii-ed : 

"  Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  are  you  agreed  upon  your 
verdict  ■?" 

The  foreman  bowed  assent. 

"  How  say  you — is  the  prisoner,  Ralph  Wortham, 
guilty  or  not  guilty  of  the  felony  with  which  he  stands 
charged  in  the  indictment?" 

"  Not  guilty  !" 

"  You  say  he  is  not  guilty  :  that  is  your  verdict,  and 
so  you  say  all." 

For  this  result  the  spectators  were  evidently  unpre- 
pared. A  low  buzz  of  surpnse  was  audible  in  court, 
intimating  that  a  different  issue  had  been  expected. 
Apparently  the  judge  shared  this  impression.  He  re- 
marked :- — 

"  Prisoner,  you  have  had  a  merciful  jury.  Let  the 
past  never  be  forgotten  as  a  warning  for  the  future !" 

In  a  feeble  and  faint  voice  came  the  reply  : 

'*  I  am  innocent,  my  lord ;  and  so  I  shall  one  day  be 

proved." 

****** 

Some  sixteen  or  eighteen  hours  after  this  result,  cir- 
cumstances favoured  my  wish  of  having  an  introduction 
to  Mr.  Zillett.  He  was  alone ;  and  the  conversation 
was  easily  brought  to  bear  upon  the  recent  trial.  It 
was  solely  with  reference  to  it  that  I  sought  him. 

"The  verdict  seemed  to  take  the  spectators  by  sur- 
prise," said  I,  carelessly. 

"  It  was  a  lenient  verdict ;  and  the  more  I  reflect  upon 
the  evidence,  the  more  satisfied  I  feel  with  our  con- 
clusion," was  his  reply. 

"  You  had  some  difficulty  in  arriving  at  it  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  we  had  some  obstinate  spirits  to  persuade  and 
bend ;  one  or  more  such  there  will  always  be  in  every 
jury-box." 

And  he  laughed,  as  if  tickled  by  the  recollection  of 
some  obdurate  colleague — the  old  gentleman,  for  in- 
stance<  subject  to  "  occasional  fits,"  and  apprehensive 


THE    JURYMAN    MASON.  Ill 

of  the  most  horrible  consequences  if  he  was  a  night 
absent  from  home. 

"The  prisoner  must  deeply  feel  his  obligations  to 
you." 

"■  I  did  my  duty,  nothing  more;"  he  rejoined,  with 
marked  but  quiet  emphasis ;  an  emphasis  so  peculiar 
that  I  was  satisfied  his  reply  involved  a  double  meaning. 

"He  was  aware,  I  think,  of  your  favorable  disposition 
towards  him." 

My  companion  eyed  me  keenly,  but  was  silent. 

"  I  could  almost  fancy,"  I  continued,  "  that  you 
understood  each  other;  tliat  some  telegraphic  commu- 
nication passed  between  you !" 

"  Oh !  ah  !  indeed ;  that  we  talked  with  our  fingers 
under  the  very  eye  of  the  judge  !" 

"No!  no!  That  is  not  my  meaning;  such  open 
communication  could  not  well  pass  in  court." 

"  To  the  point,  then — be  explicit — for  I  am  really  at  a 
loss  to  guess  your  drift,"  observed  Mr.  Zillett,  slowly, 
with  an  admirably  feigned  air  of  perplexity. 

"  This,  I  mean ;  that  the  prisoner  knew  by  some 
medium  of  communication  impenetrable  by  others,  that 
in  you  he  had  a  friend!" 

The  rejoinder  was  immediate.  Mr.  Zillett  lifted  up 
his  eyebrows,  and  exclaimed  : — 

"  Never  saw  him  before  in  my  life,  shall  probably  never 
see  him  again ;  know  nothing  about  his  friends,  his  con- 
nections, his  intentions.  When  he  entered  the  dock,  to 
me  he  was  a  prisoner,  and  nothing  more." 

"  Did  he  remain  such  to  you  throughout  the  trialf^ 

He  laughed  heartily  at  my  query,  and  then  parried 
it. 

"  You  question  closely.  Sir ;  and,  if  in  the  law,  do 
honour  to  the  special  pleader  under  whom  you  have  com- 
menced your  career." 

Another  laugh,  and  he  continued  :— ■ 

"  Do  I  fail  in  making  you  comprehend  that  I  was 
merely  a  juror  on  this  occasion,  most  unquestionably  no 
personal  friend  or  even  acquaintance  of  this  unfortunate 
party  ?" 

*'  But  on  a  sudden,"  persisted  I,  "  you  took  the  most 
decided  and  extraordinary  interest  in  the  case?" 

"  I  did  so  from  the  first.     I  had  an  impression— which 


112  THE    JURYMAN    MASON. 

deepened  as  the  evidence  was  developed — that  the  real 
criminal  vt^as  in  court,  but  not  in  the  dock.  I  recognized 
him,  methought,  in  the  w^itness-box.  You  cannot — will 
not  expect  me  to  be  more  explicit.  It  would  be  im- 
proper. But  with  such  an  impression,  deeply  and  con- 
scientiously entertained,  nothing  would  have  induced  me 
to  pronounce  Wortham  guilty." 

"  And,"  said  I,  "from  the  time  he  entered  the  court 
to  the  time  he  quitted  it  Ids  relation  to  you  remained  un- 
changed? From  the  commencement  to  the  close  of  the 
trial  he  was  to  you  a  stranger,  an  alien,  nothing  more'?" 

Again  he  laughed  long  and  merrily. 

"  You  are  puzzled,"  said  he,  "  as  wiser  men  have  been 
before  you.  Come!  come!  I  affirm  nothing.  I  deny 
nothing.  You  are  no  Inquisitor;  nor  am  I  before  tlie 
Holy  Tribunal.  I  am,  therefore,  not  compelled  to  make 
admissions.  Owning  no  adherence  to  the  llomish  Church, 
I  am,  therefore,  not  enjoined  to  confession!  Now  for  a 
change  of  subject.  How  is  our  mutual  friend,  Illing- 
worth  ?     Have  the  Buxton  Baths  agreed  with  himV" 

Other  chit-chat  followed.     But  the  conversation  closed 
with,  on  my  part,  the  most  decided  impression  that  there 
was  a  mystery — powerless  as  I  was  to  unravel  it. 
*         ''    *  *  *  *  # 

Years — I  forget  how  many — rolled  away  ere  we  again 
met  in  Warwickshire.  Zillett  needed,  however,  no 
remark  on  my  part  to  freshen  up  his  recollections  of  the 
past.     He  was,  himself,  the  first  to  advert  to  them. 

"Inquisitor!"  said  he,  with  a  smile,  "  what  are  the 
latest  tidings  you  bring  from  Mr.  Justice  Gazelee?  You 
remember  the  last  time  we  sat  in  the  law  chiefs  pre- 
sen/!e?" 

'  I  do  ;  and  our  subsequent  interview." 

"  At  which  you  were  foiled!  Ha!  ha!  ha!  Come,  for- 
give me !  You  will  respect  my  opinions  in  future.  My 
suspicions,  you  see,  were  well  founded!" 

"  On  what  subject?" 

"What!  have  you  yet  to  learn  the  disclosures  at 
Steele  and  Whittenbury's?" 

"I  had  forgotten  their  names." 

"But  not  Wortham's?"  said  he,  somewhat  reproach- 
fully. 

"  No,  no!  whatever  relates  to  him  has  interest  for  me." 


THE    JURYMAN    MASON.  113 

"So  J  thought;  now  listen.  Eighteen  months  after 
that  memorable  trial,  during  which  you  would  have  it 
that  the  prisoner  and  myself  privately  communicated " 

"  And  which  opinion,"  I  ejaculated,  "  I  entertain  to 
this  hour!" 

"  Oh !  Ah !  Well !  Eighteen  months  afterwards,  Ishara 
Dadd,  whose  bearing  in  the  witness-box  you  cannot  well 
have  forgotten,  was  apprehended  for  embezzlement. 
Some  dozen  frauds  were  established  against  him ;  and,  at 
his  employers'  instance,  the  Government  of  the  day  com- 
passionately sent  this  delicate-looking  young  man,  for 
change  of  air,  to  Sydney!  Before  he  sailed,  it  occurred 
to  him  that  it  would  be  somewhat  awkward  to  land  in  a 
new  colony  penniless  ;  and  that  his  acknowledged  reputa- 
tion for  raising  the  wind  demanded  that  he  should  make  a 
final  attempt  at  duping  the  knowing  ones.  From  mere 
force  of  habit  he  selected  Mr.  Whittenbury.  To  that 
figurative  personage  he  sent,  through  an  unsuspected 
channel,  a  message,  bearing  this  import — that  he  had  in- 
formation to  give  Mr.  W.  on  a  most  interesting  point ; 
that  this  information  none  could  impart  but  himself, 
Dadd  ;  that  it  had  reference  to  commercial  matters  ;  that, 
before  he  divulged  it,  he  demanded  ten  pounds  down,  in 
gold;  that  his  stay  in  England  was  'uncertain;'  and 
therefore  that  '  an  early  application  was  desirable.'  The 
junior  partner,"  continued  Mr.  Zillett,  "  was  sorely  puz- 
zled. Dadd  he  believed  to  be  a  consummate  rogue ;  but 
still  he  might  be  in  possession  of  valuable  information. 
The  firm  might  have  been  robbed  to  a  greater  extent 
than  had  as  yet  been  ascertained.  Dadd  might  have 
accomplices.  "Whittenbury  shuddered  at  the  idea,  and 
sought  counsel  of  his  experienced  principal.  That 
worthy  was  furious.  'What  could  his  partner  mean?' 
he  demanded.  'Did  he  wish  to  fool  away  the  entire 
means  of  the  firm?  Were  they  not  sufficient  losers  by 
that  villain  Dadd  already?' — Mr.  W.  shook  his  head  in 
truly  mournful  acquiescence. — '  It's  all  Bam!''  continued 
Mr.  Steele,  vociferously,  as  soon  as  his  breath  would 
permit  him  to  indulge  in  a  hearty  ejaculation.  '  Ugh  I 
ugh !  ugh !  This  cough  will  kill  me.  It's  imposition 
from  beginning  to  end.  Ugh  !  ugh!  Ten  pounds,  for- 
sooth! Give,  if  you  will;  but  let  the  money  be  your 
own.     The  firm  shall  never  advance  it.     That  I'm  re- 


114  THE    JURYMAN    MASON. 

solved  on.  Ugh !  ugh !  ugh  !  Oh  dear,  these  cough  pills, 
at  five  shillings  a  box,  do  me  no  manner  of  good.  I 
shall  break  a  blood-vessel.  And  then,  Whittenbury, 
you'll  be,  morally,  my  murderer.  But,  mark  you  ;  I've  di- 
rected every  farthing  of  my  capital  to  be  withdrawn  from 
the  firm.' — '  Don't  allude,  pray  don't,  to  any  thing  so 
dreadful,'  cried  Whittenbury,  piteously.  Whether  this 
remark,"  said  Zillett,  slyly,  "  had  reference  to  the  demise 
of  his  partner,  or  to  the  diversion  of  his  capital,  does  not 
clearly  appear.  '  But  suppose,'  persisted  the  junior, 
earnestly,  'that  truth  has  not  entirely  deserted  this 
wretched  creature,  Dadd;  suppose  that  there  is  some 

important   disclosure   impending '    '  Fiddle-faddle 

with  your  long  words,'  shouted  Steele  (his  face  grew 
very  purple) — '  fiddle-faddle  !  there  is  nothing  pending 
but  doubtful  debts  to  the  tune  of  a  thousand  pounds, 
which  I  wish  you  would  get  in.'  '  There  many  be  ac- 
complices,' insinuated  W.,  softly ;  '  there  may  be  asso- 
ciates ;  there  may  be  snakes  in  the  firm,  snakes  which  we 
are  warming  at  our  own  fire,  only  hereafter  to  sting  us. 
We  steer,  Mr.    Steele,   we  steer,  believe  me,  between 

Scylla  and  Charybdis '  His  partner  would  hear  no 

more.  He  roused  himself  up,  looked  his  partner  full  in 
the  face,  and  remarked,  with  upbraiding  emphasis,  '  I've 
heard  you  mention  these  people  very  often  before;  so 
often,  indeed,  have  their  names  been  upon  your  tongue, 
that  I  have  searched  the  books  carefully,  to  see  when 
and  for  what  they  were  customers.  I  can  find  no  men- 
tion of 'em.  None — none  whatever!  and  therefore,'  said 
Steele — looking  daggers  the  while  at  his  delinquent  col- 
league— '  my  mind's  made  up !  They're  improper  cha- 
racters! Yes,  yes!  That  has  long  been  my  impression. 
And  now,  let  me  tell  you.  Sir,  that,  as  a  family  man, 
you  should  have  scorned  to  have  soiled  your  lips  with 
any  mention  of  such  people.  Syllee  and  Chybdis,  indeed ! 
For  shame  of  yourself!  For  shame,  I  say!' — 'Good 
heavens,  Steele!'  began  the  junior;  'is  it  possible  you 

can  labour  under  such  a  mistake  as '  — '  Not  a  word, 

Sir!'  said  the  senior,  severely  ;  '  not  a  word — or  I  make 
it  my  business,  this  very  evening,  to  call  on  Mrs.  Whit- 
tenbury !'  " 

"  That  was  a  potent  name  to  conjure  with,  and  the 
menaced  man  by  no  means  relished  even  a  passing  refer- 


THE    JURYMAN    MASON.  115 

ence  to  it ;  but,  masking  his  chagrin  under  a  smile,  he 
observed,  '  Well,  Sir,  we  will  waive  that  subject  for  the 
present:  hereafter  I  will  return  to  it.' — 'Return  to  it!' 
exclaimed  Mr.  Steele,-  with  horror;  'what!  you  glory  in 
your  shame?  Now  I've  done  with  you!  No!  not 
another  word  this  awful  night!  Rummage  the  gaol  for 
Isham  Dadd  when  you  will ;  say  to  him  what  you  will ; 
give  him  what  you  will:  but  mind — no  message  from 
me ;  no  money  of  mine.  Return  to  Syllee  and  Chybdis 
hereafter,  eh?  Infamy!  Infamy!  That  unfortunate 
Mrs.  Whittenbury !  If  there's  a  wife  upon  this  earth  to 
be  pitied,  it's  that  deceived,  much  enduring,  and  most 
unsuspecting  woman  !'  And,  waving  his  hands  before 
him,  in  token  of  irrepressible  horror,  Mr.  Steele  went,  or 
rather  waddled,  his  way.  His  partner,  meanwhile,  sought 
the  gaol,  and  obtained,  with  some  difficulty,  an  interview 
with  Dadd.  The  turnkey,  at  the  former's  request,  left 
them  alone.  For  a  moment  the  dishonest  servant  seemed 
abashed  by  the  presence  of  his  injured  master.  Recover- 
ing himself,  he  quickly  asked,  with  great  coolness,  whether 
he  '  came  thither  to  reproach  him  with  the  past,  or  to 
comply  vi^ith  his  conditions.' — '  Reproaches,  though  de- 
served, would  be  useless,'  said  Whittenbury;  'and  thus, 
though  with  strong  misgivings,  I  am  prepared  to  close 
with  your  proposal.' — 'The  money?'  was  the  next  in- 
quiry, made  with  as  much  effrontery  as  if  he  was  urging 
the  payment  of  a  just  debt. — 'It  is  here.' — 'Hand  it 
over.' — '  No ;  not  until  you  have  given  the  information 
you  profess  to  possess.' — Dadd  eyed  him,  and  remarked, 
sullenly,  '  Pay  first :  listen  afterwards.'  From  this  posi- 
tion no  persuasion  or  remonstrance  could  induce  him  to 
depart.  At  length  Mr.  Whittenbury  held  out  to  him,  in 
silence,  the  bribe  agreed  on.  The  convict  keenly  scru- 
tinized the  coin,  to  ascertain  that  it  was  genuine  ;  satisfied 
on  this  head,  he  stowed  it  away  carefully  in  various  parts 
of  his  felon's  garb.  These  precautions  completed,  he 
turned  towards  his  late  employer,  and  said,  with  some- 
thing very  like  a  sneer,  '  Having  paid  down  the  purchase- 
money,  let  me  wish  you  joy  of  your  bargain !'  The 
junior  recollected  his  senior's  repeated  cautions,  and  felt 
that  'he  was  dojie!^ — 'What  I  have  to  say,'  continued 
Dadd,  '  will  bring  no  money  into  your  till,  or  take  a 
single  doubtful  debt  off"  your  books.     But  it  will  startle 


116  THE    JURYMAN    MASON. 

your  mind,  and  relieve  mine.  You  remember  Mrs.  Harp- 
er's purse,  and  the  trial  of  Ralph  Wortham  for  taking 
it  V — '  Yes ;  and  the  scandalous  verdict  of  the  jury  in 
acquitting  him.' — '  It  was  a  just  verdict,'  said  the  felon, 
gravely ;  '  he  veas  not  the  thief.' — '  Who  was  V — '  I !' 
returned  the  other,  in  a  daring  tone  ;  'J  took  it.  I  wanted 
money.  I  had  lost  a  whole  year's  salary  at  a  low  shilling 
hell.  My  debts  were  pressing,  and  I  was  desperate.  I 
took  the  purse.  Could  I  have  kept  it  I  should  not  have 
been  here;  but  Steele's  activity  ruined  all.' — 'You  took 
it ! — how  ? — when  V — '  The  moment  in  which  Wortham, 
tired  of  waiting,  bolted  from  the  counter.  The  silly,  vain 
woman  had  paraded  her  bank-note  and  purse  so  frequently 
and  ostentatiously  that  the  temptation  w^as  more  than  I 
could  resist ;  my  debts  made  me  frantic,  and  fifty  pounds 
would  pay  most.  I  seized  it  slyly,  hoping  that  suspicion 
would  light  on  Wortham  ;  and  so  it  did.  As  to  getting 
the  note  quickly  off  my  hands  I  had  no  fears.  At  one 
or  othei-  of  my  gaming  haunts  I  knew  I  could  pass  it.     I 

watched   my    opportunity  and   succeeded .'      'And 

then  ?'  '  Oh  !  Steele  brought  him  back  ;  and  with  him  a 
policeman  ;  and  then  there  was  a  hubbub,  and  a  search, 
and  a  row,  which  you  must  well  remember;  my  courage 
failed  me ;  I  began  to  fear  that  the  search  might  become 
general ;  so  availing  myself  of  the  confusion  and  uproar 
which  prevailed  when  Wortham  upset  Steele,  I  helped, 
and  very  gladly  helped,  to  drag  the  supposed  thief  into 
the  inner  shop  to  be  searched ;  while  so  doing  I  securely 
placed  note  and  purse  in  the  side  pocket  of  his  jacket. 
The  rest  you  know.' 

'"And  is  this  all  you  have  to  tell  me?'  cried  the 
amazed  and  sickening  "Whittenbury,  after  a  pause. 

"  '  Yes  !  all !  No  ;  stop — not  all.  I  have  a:  word 
or  two  more  to  add,  and  they  are  words  of  advice :  Pay 
your  assistants  better,  and  you  will  have  fewer  thefts  ; 
treat  them  not  as  brutes  but  as  Christians,  and  you  will 
have  more  chance  of  their  regarding  your  interest  as  their 
own  ;  don't  let  them  see  in  so  many  of  their  masters  the 
most  wanton  waste  and  extravagance,  unlimited  expendi- 
ture, and  the  most  costly  follies,  and  expect  them,  with 
such  an  example  before  their  eyes,  to  be  frugal,  industri- 
ous, self-denying,  and  trustworthy.  Farewell!  You 
don't  repent  of  your  bargain,  do  you  ?     You  have  surely 


THE    JURYMAN    MASON.  117 

had  your  money's  worth  ?'     And,  with  a  low,  mocking 
laugh,  the  villain  turned  away." 

"And  now,"  inquired  Zillett,  as  he  closed  his  recital, 
"what  is  your  opinion  of  Mr.  Isham  Dadd?  and  what 
your  opinion  of  the  refractory  juryman?" 

"  That  both  suggest  matter  for  thought.  But  tell  me 
■ — where  is  Wortham  ?" 

"  On  the  bounding  sea ;  a  prosperou,s  man  ;  independ- 
ent, and  respected." 

"  Another  inquiry :  Since  light  has  dawned  upon 
myself,  and  I,  like  you,  am  bound  by  the  '  mystic  tie,' 
reply  to  me  unreservedly." 

"I  will." 

"Did  you  not  discover  him  in  court  to  be  a  Mason?" 

^^ I  did;  nnd  m  distress.  You  know  our  creed.  Was  I 
to  stand  aloof  from  him  because  the  world  frowned  on 
him  ;  and  the  more  when,  from  the  first,  I  entertained 
deeply-rooted  and  irremoveable  suspicions  that  he  ought 
not  to  have  been  in  the  dock  at  all !" 

"But  he  owed  his  deliverance  mainly  to  the  recogni- 
tion of  brotherhood  ?" 

"  And  to  the  influence  of  previous  character ;  both 
weighed  strongly  with  me.  Strongly,  do  I  say?"  said 
Zillett,  warmly  and  eagerly  correcting  himself;  "un- 
governably, is  the  proper  term.  A  brother — view  him 
where  you  will — is  a  brother  all  the  world  over." 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

A     mason's      home NEWSTEAD      ABBEY      AND      COLONEL 

WILDMAN. 

"  Metliinks,"  said  the  English  merchant,  "  I  should  like  to  visit  the 
ruins  of  yonder  castle,  situated  by  the  waterfall.  There  is  something 
of  melancholy  dignity  in  such  a  scene,  which  reconciles  us  to  the  mis- 
fortunes of  our  own  time,  by  showing  that  our  ancestors,  who  were, 
perhaps,  more  intelligent  or  more  powerful,  have,  nevertheless,  in  their 
days,  encountered  cares  and  distresses  similar  to  those  which  we  now 
groan  under." — Sir  Walter  Scott  :  Anne  of  Geierstein. 

"  His  Royal  Highness  the  Duke  of  Sussex  is  expected 
here,  to-day,  on  a  visit  to  the  Colonel,  and  I  fear  I  must 
refuse  you  admittance." 

Such  was  the  unwelcome  greeting  we  received  from 
the  porter  the  morning  on  which  we  presented  ourselves 
at  Newstead.  The  faces  of  many  of  our  party  lengthened 
visibly.  We  had  come  some  considerable  distance.  A 
good  deal  of  inconvenience  had  been  submitted  to  in 
order  to  reach  the  Abbey  early.  With  some,  moreover, 
it  was  their  last  day  in  Nottinghamshire — their  final  and 
only  opportunity  of  seeing  the  early  home  of  Byron. 
The  porter  was  again  applied  to  ;  and  the  usual  sop  to 
Cerberus  proftered.  The  official  was  inexorable.  He 
replied,  bluntly  : 

"  The  colonel  was  not  in  the  habit  of  making  excep- 
tions :  as  he  did  to  one  he  did  to  all." 

"Take  in  my  card,  at  any  rate,"  said  our  leader;  "if 
shewn  to  Colonel  Wildman,  I  flatter  myself  he  will  not 
close  his  gates  upon  the  party." 

"One  rule  for  all,"  persisted  the  porter:  "but  your 
card.  Sir,  shall  undoubtedly  be  sent  up  to  the  colonel 
forthwith." 

After  a  long  and  anxious  pause,  a  groom  came  leisurely 


A    MASON  S    HOME,,  ETC.  Il9 

down  to  us,  with  the  cheering  tidings  that  ^'the  prince 
was  not  expected  to  arrive  till  evening ;  and  that,  mean- 
while, the  house  and  grounds  were  open  to  us." 

It  is  a  noble  pile  ;  and,  as  associated  with  the  name 
of  Byron,  must,  for  ages  to  come,  be  a  house  of  renown. 
We  went  leisurely  over  it ;  and  then  adjourned  to  the 
grounds.  Every  object  seems  to  recall  the  poet  and  his 
writings.  There  is  the  nobly  proportioned  ruined  arch, 
magnificent  even  in  decay,  through  which  the  wind  sighs 
so  wildly,  and  which  the  bard  has  vividly  described  in  a 
fine  stanza  of  one  of  the  most  objectionable  of  his  poems. 
The  lake,  too,  in  which  he  and  "Boatswain"  used  to 
gambol,  was  before  us — a  broad  sheet  of  water,  and 
covered,  when  we  saw  it,  under  the  influence  of  a  fresh 
breeze,  with  mimic  waves.  Looking  full  upon  this  lake 
is  the  poet's  bed-room.  The  furniture  in  it,  as  having 
been  used  by  him,  naturally  arrests  attention.  Its  value 
consists  entirely  in  its  association  with  Byron.  It  is  old, 
ill-used  and  shabby.  We  saw  the  monument  raised  by 
the  poet  to  his  favourite — '■'■Boatswain'''' — and  the  tree 
where  he  had  carved  his  own  and  his  sister's  name^ — the 
sister  to  whom  he  was  so  deeply  and  deservedly  attached 
— was  specially  pointed  out  to  us.  Near  a  path  leading 
to  the  plantation  are  two  trees,  which  grow  close  together 
— so  close  as  to  suggest  the  idea  that  they  spring  from 
the  same  stem — brother  and  sister.  On  one  of  these 
may  be  read,  carved  by  the  poet — 

Byron,  1813. 

Augusta. 

Frail  memorials  of  fervent  affection!  The  greatest 
possible  care  is  taken  of  these  trees ;  and  no  effort 
deemed  superfluous  to  secure  them  from  desecration  and 
injury.  In  fact,  one  of  the  many  excellent  traits  in  the 
present  owner  of  the  Abbey  is  the  jealous  vigilance  with 
which  he  keeps  up  all  that  Lord  Byron  valued ;  cherishes 
whatever  is  connected  with  his  name  or  fame ;  attends 
to  his  old  pensioners  ;  provides  for  the  comforts  of  former 
favourites ;  and,  with  a  magnanimous  self-denial  which 
no  other  than  a  truly  noble  spirit  could  exercise,  is  con- 
tent that  the  old  and  popular  phrase  should  still  pass 
current — "  Newstead  Abbey  and  Lord  Byron  j"  instead 

'  Mrs.  Leigh. 


130  A    mason's    home:    NKW?5TEAD    ABBEr 

of  being  superseded  by  "  Newstead  Abbey  and  Colonel 
Wildman."  No  relative  could  be  more  tender  of  the 
poet's  fame,  or  more  attached  to  his  memory,  than  his  true- 
hearted  successor  and  former  school-fellow! 

The  chapel  and  cloisters  are  very  perfect  and  striking. 
The  former  dim,  gloomy,  and  sepulchral ;  lit  up  invariably 
with  lamps  during  the  celebration  of  divine  service.  Here 
we  were  shewn  the  stone  coffin  whence  Byron  drew  the 
skull  which  he  mounted  in  silver,  and  used  as  a  drinking 
goblet.  Now  of  this  far-famed  drinking-cup  one  word. 
Despite  the  costly  manner  in  which  it  has  been  mounted, 
and  the  elaboration  of  art  bestowed  upon  it,  and  the 
lines  written  on  it,  and  the  penchant  of  the  poet  for  it, 
it  is  a  very  disagreeable  affair;  and  though  ranked  among 
the  memorabilia  of  the  Abbey,  the  sooner  one  is  able  to 
dismiss  it  from  recollection  the  better.  While  passing 
through  the  cloisters,  one  of  our  party  asked  the  grey- 
headed, grave-looking  man  who  preceded  us  as  our  Cice- 
rone, whether  "  the  Abbey  was  quiet  in  the  sma'  hours  ?" 
The  conductor  was  silent.  He  affected  not  to  have  heard 
the  question.  But  I  was  persuaded  he  had;  and  had 
understood  it.  Of  the  same  mind  was  the  fair  querist ; 
for  she  quickly  renewed  her  question,  with  the  additional 
remark,  that  she  had  heard  that  Newstead  had,  occasion- 
ally, its  unearthly  visitants.  Still  the  guide  preserved 
silence.  But  the  lady,  with  true  feminine  perseverance, 
reiterated  her  inquiries,  and  those  in  so  determined  a  tone 
that  reply  was  indispensable. 

"/i!  is  troubled  at  timcs,^^  said  the  old  man,  reluctantly, 
but  firmly. 

"  By  whom  V" 

The  response  was  boldly  and  sturdily  given  this  time. 

"By  those  who  cannot  rest  in  their  graves,  and  won't 
let  other  honest  people  rest  oiit  of  them.  Folks  do  come 
again  that  shouldn't!  That's  the  fact!  and  there's  no 
denying  it.  These  cloisters  are  the  place  they're  parti- 
cular partial  to.  The  colonel  won't  have  it  so.  But  they 
come  for  all  that.  An  old  monk  'specially.  One  of  the 
duke's  people  saw  him.  It  nearly  killed  the  man ;  he 
wasn't  himself  for  hours  after !  I'm  not  surprised — not 
I.  Blessed  saints  !"  (I  inferred  from  this  ejaculation  that 
he  was  a  Romanist.)  "  To  hear  of  such  things  is  bad 
enough  :  but  to  see — oh  dear !  oh  dear !" 


AND    COLONEL    WILDMAN.  121 

The  amusement  caused  by  this  avowal  to  some  of  our 
party  was  marvellous.  The  lady,  however,  who  had 
elicited  the  history  was  much  too  absorbed  in  pursuing 
it  to  heed  our  indecent  merriment:  with  the  deepest 
gravity  she  resumed  : — 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  any  thing  strange  ?" 

"No!  thanks  be  praised,  I  never  have  ;  but  I've  heard 
enough.  The  sighs — the  shrieks  that  I've  listened  to 
before  now.  My  very  marrow  has  been  chilled  within 
me." 

"  And  how  do  you  account  for  it  ?" 

"  Why,"  returned  he,  with  earnest  sincerit}'-,  "I  lay  it, 
in  part,  to  the  wickedness  of  the  late  lord — a  sad  one  he 
undoubtedly  was — and  in  ];)art  I  lay  it  to  the  skull.  So 
long  as  that  skull  is  kept  above  ground,  that  old  monk 
will  v^alk  about  and  claim  it." 

"Oh!  Ah!"  cried  the  wag  of  the  party;  "I  under- 
stand you  now  perfectly !  you  mean  that  the  skull  be- 
longs to  the  old  gentleman — the  walking  monk — and 
that  he  feels  himself  rather  at  a  loss,  and  uncomfortable 
without  it?" 

The  guide's  indignation  was  extreme. 

"Oh!"  cried  he,  angrily;  "if  you  make  a  jest  of  this, 
I've  done:  but  at  any  rate  you  might,  methinks,  find  a 
fitter  place  to  talk  in  this  fashion  on  such  a  subject." 

And  out  of  the  chapel  and  cloisters  he  very  uncere- 
moniously bundled  us;  nor  would  he  open  his  lips  again 
during  the  remainder  of  the  walk ! 

We  wandered  over  the  mansion  admiring,  among  other 
articles  of  taste  and  vertu,  the  many  fine  cabinets  which  it 
contains.  One,  exquisitely  inlaid,  riveted  the  gaze  of  our 
fair  companions.  They  lingered  wistfully  before  it  with 
eager  eyes.  rfome  old  divine — Fuller,  if  I  mistake  not 
— says  :  "  Eschew,  if  thou  aimest  at  a  life  of  quiet,  the 
uncharitable  task  of  attempting  to  divine  the  motives  of 
thy  fellow."  Sound  counsel,  albeit  quaintly  expressed. 
Recalling  it,  methought — "  the  purport  of  those  earnest 
glances,  who  shall  venture  to  translate  V 

To  those  troubled  with  an  autograph  mania,  the  greatest 
temptation  would  be  that  of  bolting  with  "  the  visitors' 
book  !"  What  an  array  of  glorious  names  does  it  contain! 
The  gifted  and  the  intelligent  from  every  land  seem  to 
have  testified,  by  their  pilgrimage  to  Newstead,  their 
9 


122  A  mason's  home  :  newstead  abbey 

tribute  to  the  magic  of  song,  and  the  fame  of  Byron. 
Artists,  poets,  politicians,  nobles,  all  are  there.  And  as 
I  glanced  over  the  list,  I  remarked  that  scarcely  any 
foreigner  of  note  had  visited  this  country  u^ho  had  not 
included  in  his  arrangements  a  peep  at  Newstead.  Apart, 
however,  and  wholly  distinct  from  the  high  poetic  in- 
terest which  the  Abbey  must  always  retain,  it  possesses 
another  attraction  for  Masons  as  the  home  of  a  deservedly 
popular  member  of  the  Order,  and  as  the  favorite  retreat 
of  a  much-beloved  G.  M.  The  Duke  of  Sussex  was  a 
frequent  guest  at  Newstead  ;  its  "  tranquillity,  repose, 
and  freedom  were,"  he  said,  "  peculiarly  grateful"  to 
him.  In  the  drawing-room  is  his  full-length  portrait, 
cleverly  done,  and  like  him. 

Near  this  apartment  is  the  duke's  sleeping-room — lofty 
and  handsome.  Close  to  it  on  one  side  is  a  small  private 
sitting-room,  where  he  generally  sat  and  wrote  all  the 
morning:  and  on  the  other,  leading  out  of  his  bed-room, 
is  a  small  sleeping  apartment  for  his  confidential  valet — 
who  was  thus  placed  to  be,  in  case  of  illness,  within  im- 
mediate reach  of  the  duke's  summons. 

While  standing  before  the  prince's  portrait,  and  scan- 
ning it  attentively,  a  middle-aged,  military-looking  man, 
erect  in  his  carriage,  and,  but  for  a  slight  limp  in  his 
gait,  active  and  rapid  in  all  his  movements,  came  up  and 
said : — 

"Ah!  Ha!  You  are  looking  at  that  portrait  closely, 
to  make  yourself  master  of  its  defects :  it  is  a  good  pic- 
ture, but  not  a  good  likeness." 

"I  deemed  it  both." 

"  Pardon  me — you  are  wrong :  it  is  much  more  like 
the  duke's  daughter,  Madame  D'Este,^  than  like  himself: 
I  ought  to  be  a  judge,  for  I  see  him  frequently :  I  dine 
with  him  in  fact  to-day.  You  are  aware,  I  presume,  that 
when  the  duke  is  at  Newstead,  the  colonel  can  invite  no 
one  to  his  table  without  previously  mentioning  the  name 
to  H.  R.  H.,  and  receiving  his  permission.  Such  is  court 
etiquette." 

"  When  will  the  prince  arrive  ?" 

"  To-night  at  seven  :  he  would  have  been  here  yester- 
day, but  an  engagement  to  the  Princess  Victoria  inter- 

"  Now  I.adA'  Wilde. 


AND    COLONEL    WILDMAN.  123 

vened — an  engagement  to  which  he  would  sacrifice  any- 
other.  The  love  he  bears  her  resembles  that  of  a  doting 
father  towards  an  only  child.  To  hear  him  speak  of  her, 
one  would  imagine  that  she  stood  to  him  in  that  relation : 
all  the  love  he  cherished  for  the  Duke  of  Kent — his 
favourite  brother- — seems  to  have  descended  by  inherit- 
ance to  his  orphan  daughter.  And  report  says  the  little 
princess  is  equally  attached  to  her  Whiggish  uncle.  But 
come — I  see  by  the  way  in  which  you  scan  that  portrait 
that  you  are  a  Sussexite — and  if  you  will  step  into  the 
library  I  will  shew  you  one  or  two  rarities  not  generally- 
visible  to  the  mob  of  strangers :  and  give  you,  in  addition, 
one  or  two  traits  of  the  duke,  from  his  own  conversation ; 
they  may-  furnish  matter  for  thought  hereafter." 

These,  on  parting,  I  carefully  noted  down.  Those 
which  relate  to  parties  still  living,  or  to  private  indi- 
viduals, I  have  suppressed  ;  the  others,  as  relating  either 
to  personages  who  maybe  deemed  historical,  or  to  parties 
on  whom  the  grave  has  closed,  I  have  deemed  myself  at 
full  liberty  to  retain. 

THE    PRINCESS    CHARLOTTE. 

"  The  Prince  Regent  had  little  real  affection  for  his 
daughter.  The  fact  is,  he  feared  her  !  The  day  after  he 
learnt  her  demise,  his  comment  on  the  event  to  one  of  his 
intimates  was  this  : — '  The  nation  will  lament  her :  but  to 
me  it  is  a  relief  P  " 

THE  DUKE  OF  WELLINGTON  AND  LORD  CASTLEREAGH. 

"  The  regard  which  the  duke  felt  for  Lord  Castlereagh 
was  great,  undissembled,  and  enduring  to  the  last.  It 
puzzled  most  people.  No  one  could  well  account  for  it, 
because  no  two  men  had  less  in  common  as  to  habits  and 
and  character.  The  duke,  all  soldierly  frankness.  The 
foreign  secretary,  steeped  in  tracasserie,  finesse,  and  diplo- 
matic manoeuvres.  The  duke  speaks,  and  you  seize,  at 
once,  his  meaning.  Lord  Castlereagh  rounded  sentence 
after  sentence,  and  you  knew  as  much  of  his  real  bent 
and  object  when  he  had  finished  as  when  he  began!  It 
shews,  however,  how  deeply  the  duke  had  studied  the 
diplomatist,  since  he  was  the  first  to  notice  Lord  Castle- 
reagh's  aberration  of  intellect.     He  mentioned  it  first  to 


124  A  mason's  home  :  newstead  abbey 

the  king,  and  then  to  his  colleagues.  His  impression 
was  deemed  ill-founded ;  so  fixed,  however,  was  it  in  the 
duke's  mind,  that  some  days  before  the  event,  he  said  to 
a  dependent  of  the  minister — one  of  his  secretaries,  if  I 
mistake  not — '  Watch  his  lordship  carefully  :  his  mind  is 
going.' " 

THE    QUEEN. 

"  The  princess^  resembled  her  father  in  many  points 
of  character  ;  in  his  stern  and  soldierly-liking  for  punctu- 
ality ;  in  his  love  of  order ;  aversion  to  being  humbugged, 
and  attention  to  pecuniary  details.  I  have  suspicions, 
too,  that  she  will  inherit  the  duke's  penchant  for  building. 
Never  was  he  so  happy  as  when  dabbling  in  bricks  and 
mortar.  Castlebar  Hill  could  say  something  on  this 
point.  But  independent  of  her  paternal  inheritance  of 
sincerity  and  straightforwardness,  she  has  a  shrewdness 
of  character  quite  her  own.  I  remember  some  years  ago, 
when  she  was  a  little  girl,  her  coming  up  to  me,  and 
after  some  confidential  chit-chat,  whispering  with  a  sad 

and  disappointed  air — '  Uncle  ! is  not  near  so  wise  as 

she  looks !  When  I  ask  her  to  explain  to  me  something 
puzzling,  she  always  says — "Your  Royal  Highness  will 
be  pleased  to  consult  your  dictionary."  No!  No  !  she  is 
not,  I  can  assure  you,  near  so  wise  as  she  looks.'  Now," 
said  the  duke,  laughing  till  the  tears  stood  in  his  eyes, 
"  nothing  could  be  more  comic  or  more  true,  for  if  there 
ever  was  a  solemn  and  imposing-looking  personage  upon 

this  earth,  it  was !     Ha!    Ha!     Ha!    Should  my 

little  niece  live — as  I  pray  God  she  may — to  be  the  con- 
stitutional sovereign  of  tlais  great  country,  she  will  find 
many  people  about  her  in  the  self-same  predicament," — 
and  again  he  laughed  merrily, — "not  near  so  wise  as 
they  look !" 

THE    LATE    QUEEN    CAROLINE. 

"  One,  and  not  the  least  curious,  feature  in  the  affair 
was,  that  the  Regent  was  kejjt  fully  informed,  by  some 
unsuspected  agent,  of  the  daily  life  of  his  unfortunate 
consort.  He  was  in  full  possession  of  all  her  movements. 
She  never  had  a  party  but  he  knew  who  composed  it. 

^  Victoria. 


AND    COLONEL    WILDMAN.  125 

She  never  took  a  journey  without  the  route  and  the  inci- 
dents of  travel  being  reported  to  him  in  detail.  Every 
escapade  of  hers  was  duly  chronicled ;  and  faithfully,  too ; 
for  when  proceedings  were  finally  taken,  the  subordinate 
law  people — those  who  had  the  getting  up  of  the  case — 
found  the  king  more  au  fait  of  the  whole  business  than 
they  were  themselves.  '  Amend  that,'  said  he  on  one 
occasion — 'you  are  wrong  as  to  time.  The  date  of  that 
transaction  is  so  and  so' — naming  the  day  accurately ; 
'  and  the  parties  present  were  these ;'  and  he  repeated 
their  names  one  by  one.  Great  pains  were  taken  to 
ascertain  the  king's  informant ;  but  in  vain." 

THE    LATE    MR.    WHITBREAD. 

"  Soon  after  he  became  mixed  up  with  the  affairs  of 
Drury-lane  Theatre,  he  received  a  letter  from  some  reli- 
gious fanatic,  telling  him  that  he  had  deserted,  in  a  mea- 
sure, his  proper  post  in  the  House  of  Commons,  and  that 
the  wrath  of  the  Supreme  would  light  upon  him  ;  that 
whoever  endeavoured  to  keep  theatres  open,  and  make 
that  species  of  property  stable  and  prosperous,  warred 
with  the  Most  High,  and  was  sure  of  signal  punishment 
and  defeat.  It  closed  with  the  remarkable  hint,  that 
worse  calamities  might  befal  a  man  than  the  loss  of  bodily 
health  or  reduction  i?i  worldly  circumstances.  It  was  a  long 
letter ;  in  some  parts  cleverly,  very  cleverly  written, 
but  violent;  and  to  my  judgment,  in  two  or  three  pas- 
sages, somewhat  profane.  Whitbread  was  highly  amused 
with  it,  and  shewed  it  about,  as  a  sample  of  the  curious 
correspondence  with  which  he  was  from  time  to  time 
greeted.  But  it  would  have  been  well  if  the  warning 
had  been  heeded.  Beyond  all  question,  the  perplexities 
and  harass  arising  out  of  the  pecuniary  embarrassments 
of  Drury-lane  hastened  the  sad  catastrophe.  As  a  public 
man — a  thoroughly  fearless  speaker — and  as  the  organ  of 
that  public  opinion  which  keeps  a  prime  minister  some- 
what to  his  duty,  Whitbread's  loss  has  never  been  made 
good." 

THE    DETHRONED    KING    OF    FRANCE  AND    HIS    CONFESSOR. 

"It  is  a  popular  impression,  but  a  false  one,  that 
the  downfal  of  Charles  X,  resulted  from  the  pernicious 


126  A  mason's  home  :  newstead  abbey 

counsels  of  Prince  Polignac.  An  influence  far  mightier 
than  his  moulded  the  purposes  of  the  monarch.  The 
evil  genius  of  Charles  X.  existed  in  the  person  of  his 
confessor.  The  Abbe  de  Latil,  a  man  of  very  narrow- 
views,  who  had  been  educated  in  a  cloister,  and  never  rose 
superior  to  its  prejudices,  ruled  the  king.  He  was  with 
him  during  his  hrst  exile  in  this  country,  when  he 
resided  at  Holyrood  House,  in  '98,  '99,  and  1800  ;  he  was 
then  his  spiritual  director ;  eventually  he  became  Cardi- 
nal de  Latil,  and  Archbishop  of  Rheinis.  Talleyrand 
foresaw  the  peril  of  his  counsels  to  Charles,  and  sought 
to  avert  it  by  adroitly  suggesting  to  the  king  that  '  there 
was  a  great  work  to  be  done  in  the  Church ;  that  none 
was  so  fitted  for  its  execution  as  the  cardinal,  who,  he 
hoped,  with  the  monarch's  permission,  would,  in  future, 
confine  his  attention  to  ecclesiastical  affairs.' — The  king 
replied,  in  substance,  that  the  presence  and  opinion  of 
the  cardinal  were  indispensable  to  him !  A  few  months 
later  a  very  distinguished  man,  one  of  his  most  attached 
friends  in  this  country — one  who  had  the  right,  from  previous 
services,  to  address  him — ventured  to  warn  him  of  the  dan- 
ger of  having  a  secret  adviser — an  adviser  apart  from  his 
council  of  ministers — that  adviser  irresponsible,  and  ne- 
cessarily ill-informed  as  to  the  true  interests  of  society, 
and  inexperienced  in  the  conduct  of  public  affairs.  The 
king's  reply  w^as — -'The  Archbishop  has  been  with  me  in 
all  my  misfortunes.  I  have  no  secrets  apart  from  him. 
My  opinion  of  his  judgment,  my  recollections  of  his 
past  fidelity,  and  the  precepts  of  my  religion,  forbid 
reserve  between  us.' — The  Duchess  d'Angouleme  had  a 
hint  given  her  on  the  subject.  Her  rej^ly  was  stern  and 
sufficiently  curt.  '  The  views  and  principles  of  the  Car- 
dinal Archbishop  are  my  oivn  /'  Never  was  a  reigning 
family  so  proof  against  waraings  !  Well !  The  end  was 
at  hand.  The  press  had  been  rather  free  in  its  censures  on 
the  Church,  and  somewhat  smart  in  its  satire  on  the 
priesthood.  The  Cardinal  resolved  it  should  be  shackled, 
and  persuaded  his  master  to  fetter  it,  in  one  of  those 
three  famous  ordon nances  which  hurled  him  from  the 
throne,  and  seated  Louis  Philippe  upon  it.  Poor  Duch- 
esse  d'Angouleme! — 'the  only  man  in  the  family!'  as 
Buonaparte  called  her.  Her  reply  about  views  and  prin- 
ciples reminds  me  of  the  late  king's  retort,  when  Prince 


AND    COLONEL    WILDMAN.  127 

of  Wales,  to  Lord  Erskine — one  of  the  happiest  retorts 
he  ever  made.  It  was  launched  at  a  private  dinner, 
v^^here  all  parties,  I  presume,  were  rather  mellow.  His 
lordship,  nettled,  not  perhaps  without  reason,  at  the 
prince's  neglect,  made  some  very  extravagant  and  prepos- 
terous assertion,  and  then  defended  it  by  saying,  'The 
view  he  had  taken  was  part  and  parcel  of  his  principles 
— principles  which  had  seated  his  Royal  Highness's 
family  on  the  throne.' — '  You  mistake,  my  Lord,'  replied 
the  prince,  '  they  are  principles  which  would  unseat  any 
family  from  any  throne !' — The  rejoinder,"  added  the 
dake,  "was  never  forgiven." 

********* 

Our  unconscionably  long  morning  was  now  drawing  to 
a  close,  and  we  prepared  to  bid  Newstead  adieu.  As  we 
left  the  grounds,  who  should  hobble  within  hail  but  our 
friend  the  Ghost-fancier,  and  the  paymaster  of  our  group 
hurried  towards  him  with  a  gratuity.  He  opened  his  palm 
\vith  remarkable  alacrity,  but  not  his  lips :  not  a  syllable 
in  the  way  of  acknowledgment  escaped  him.  His  angry 
eye  and  flushed  cheek  alone  spoke.  These  told  us  that 
he  had  not  forgiven  us;  that  the  attempt  to  turn  real, 
undoubted,  hona-Jide  ghosts  into  jokes  was  fresh  in  his 
recollection  ;  and  to  our  decided  disadvantage.  Still  de- 
sirous of  "  amicable  relations,"  I  ventured  to  bid  him 
good  morning.  His  reply  was  something  between  a 
grunt  and  a  growl ;  so  expressive  of  displeasure,  offended 
dignity,  suspicion  and  reproof,  that  it,  involuntarily, 
raised  a  smile  more  or  less  broad  on  each  of  our  impeni- 
tent faces. 

We  turned  away ;  and  the  indignant  official  then 
relieved  himself  of  a  very  long  sentence,  uttered  with 
portentous  earnestness.  Its  precise  import  none  of  us 
could  catch,  but  the  prominent  word,  duly  emphasized, 

was "SCOFFERS." 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  LATE  REV.  ROBERT  LYNAM,  AND  THE  PRIZES  IN 
THE  CHURCH. 

"  He  was  one  of  those  who  are  well  known  only  to  intimate  observers, 
and  whom  a  friend  could  not  know  intimately  without  making  daily  dis- 
coveries of  virtue,  and  wisdom,  and  sensibility.  Under  that  calm  and 
cautious  exterior,  and  behind  that  modesty  which  was  most  apparent, 
there  lay  the  utmost  warmth  of  heart  and  anxiety  of  kinduess,  and  an 
ardour  for  all  good  things  fresh  and  sincere,  so  rarely  felt  but  in  youth. 
And  the  wonder  of  all  was,  that  he  had  preserved  this  through  all 
the  habits  of  London  life." — "  Character  of  a  Friend,"  by  the  late 
Fkancis  Horner,  M.P. 

The  frank  and  fearless  Sydney  Smith,  in  one  of  his 
quaint  letters  to  Lord  John  Russell,  alludes  more  than 
once  to  the  prizes  in  the  Church — few  in  number — which 
he  maintains  should  be  preserved  intact  as  a  set-off  to  the 
blanks.  He  persuades  himself  that  such  livings  as  Stan- 
hope, and  Doddington,  and  Bolton  Percy,  and  Lambeth, 
are  so  many  inducements  to  men  of  vigorous  intellect  and 
varied  attainments  to  enter  the  Church,  which  would 
otherwise  be  deprived  of  their  abilities  and  services.  He 
maintains,  moreover,  that  the  existence  of  such  benefices 
holds  out  the  cordial  of  hope  to  many  a  struggling  and 
wayworn  labourer  in  the  vineyard,  who  grapples  cheer- 
fully with  penury,  and  toils  on,  year  after  year,  unremit- 
tingly and  willingly,  under  the  impression  that  ease  and 
independtvice  may  await  him  in  the  evening  of  life;  and 
are  beyond  question  attainable  by  perseverance  and  in- 
dustry. "W^ith  these  arguments  1  presume  not  to  med- 
dle. On  their  aptness  or  irrelevancy  I  leave  abler  heads 
to  decide.  This  only,  and  with  all  humility,  is  suggest- 
ed, that  if  ever  there  was  a  body  which,  in  the  privation, 
self-denial,  and  penury,  inseparable  from  their  profession, 
required  the  stimulus  of  hope,  it  is  that  body  which  is 


THE    LATE    REV.    ROBERT    LYNAM,    ETC.  129 

constituted  by  the  curates  of  the  Church  of  England. 
Never  were  men  so  weak  who  might — if  they  loould  unite 
— be  so  strong!  Never  were  men  so  helpless  and  depend- 
ent in  "  the  day  of  adversity,"  who  might — if  they  would 
co-operate — be  so  fully  and  thoroughly  prepared  for  it. 
No  general  super-annuitant  fund!  No  asylum  for  the 
aged,  decrepit,  worn-out  servant  of  the  altar!  No  retir- 
ing pension  for  those  whom  disease,  or  accident,  or  lo'ss 
of  voice,  or  loss  of  sight,  or  mental  alienation  incapaci- 
tates for  active  service!  So  long  as  health,  and  spirits, 
and  energies  last,  he  toils :  so  long  as  he  can  vvorlc,  he 
may  reckon  on  a  scanty  maintenance  ;  but  let  any  of  the 
ills  incident  to  mortality  surprise  him,  and  then  point 
out,  if  you  can,  a  more  dependent,  helpless,  sorrow- 
stricken,  defenceless  being  than  the  invalided  or  incapaci- 
tated clergyman. 

Masons  '  let  the  want  of  union  exhibited  l^y  these  con- 
tented but  improvident  men  school  you  !  Heed  their 
miserable  deficiency  in  forecast,  and  avoid  it.  Press  on, 
with  every  energy  you  possess,  the  erection,  establish- 
ment, and  endowment  of  that  noble  institution  projected 
by  one  of  the  most  thoughtful  and  benevolent  of  your 
order — that  institution  which  will  attest  the  principles 
of  your  body  far  more  favourably  than  the  most  laboured 
eulogy  or  the  most  aristocratic  patronage — the  Asylum 

FOR  WORTHY  AGED  AND  DECAYED  FrEEMASONS.       Let  nO 

petty  objection  suffice  to  weaken  your  conviction  of  its 
paramount  necessity.  Let  no  representations  from  the 
envious  or  the  timid  induce  you  to  waver  in  your  support 
of  a  scheme  which  holds  out  the  promise  of  such  a  home 
for  the  lonely.  Let  no  cavils  tempt  you  to  slacken  in  your 
representations  of  the  importance,  generally,  to  the 
order  of  such  a  charity ;  of  its  harmony  and  congruity 
with  our  principles — that  it  is  the  fruit  of  Masonic  pre- 
cept, ripened  in  the  sunshine  of  Masonic  beneficence. 
Let  neither  the  torpor  of  one,  nor  the  ridicule  of  another, 
nor  the  thinly-veiled  hostility  of  a  third,  nor  the  official 
indifference  of  a  fourth,  release  you  from  its  determined 
advocacy,  until  you  see  the  charity  placed  upon  a  per- 
manent basis — until  you  see  it  built,  officered,  and  en- 
dowed in  a  way  that  bids  fair  to  secure  to  it — so  far  as 
aught  can  be  secure  in  a  scene  so  stamped  with  change 
and  vicissitude — prosperity  and  perpetuity. 


130  THE    LATE    REV.    ROBERT    LYNAM, 

That  the  clergy  need  some  haven  of  the  kind  is  proved 
by  daily  instances  of  bitter  sorrow  and  suffering.  Take  one 
case  among  many.  It  forms  the  subject  of  a  printed  ap- 
peal, and  thus  there  can  be  no  indelicacy  in  alluding  to  it : — 

"  The  Rev.  Robert  Lynam,  M.  A.,  died  in  October,  1845, 
leaving  a  widow,  and  nine  children,  with  no  provision, 
except  an  annuity  of  40/.,  belonging  to  Mrs.  Lynam  her- 
self. He  was  in  his  fiftieth  year,  and  by  educational  and 
literary  occupations,  combined  with  his  clerical  labours, 
had  supported  his  family  with  scrupulous  integrity. 

"  He  was  known  to  the  public  as  author  of  a  Con- 
tinuation of  '  Goldsmith's  History  of  England,'  and  as 
editor  of  the  works  of  several  standard  authors,  especially 
Addison,  Paley,  Johnson,  Robertson,  RoUin,  and  Skelton, 
with  biographical  and  critical  introductions. 

"  He  liad  been  educated  at  Christ's  Hospital,  and  at 
Trinit}^  College,  Cambridge.  He  was  Jar  seven  years  morii- 
ing  preacher  at  the  Magdalen  Hospital;  and  during  the  last 
twelve  year's  of  his  life  he  had  been  curate  of  St.  Giles'' s  Without 
Cripplegate,  where  he  died. 

"  Many  of  the  inhabitants  of  that  parish  testified  their 
esteem  for  his  character  by  a  liberal  donation  to  him  in 
his  lingering  illness;  voluntarily  attended  in  large  num- 
bers at  his  funeral,  the  expenses  of  which  they  defrayed; 
and  they  have  since  kindly  formed  a  contribution  amongst 
themselves  for  the  relief  of  his  widovv^  and  numerous 
family.  Some  of  his  personal  friends,  aided  b}^  the  exer- 
tions of  others  to  whom  he  was  less  known  (amongst 
whom  are  the  Bishop  of  London,  Archdeacons  Hale  and 
Hollingworth,  Rev.  Dr.  G-illy,  of  Durham ;  Professor 
Scholefield,  Rev.  Dr.  Shepherd,  Rev.  Dr.  Major,  Sir.  W. 
R.  Farquhar,  &c.),  have  joined  in  that  contribution,  and 
the  proceeds,  amounting  to  300/.  Three  per  Cent.  Con- 
sols, have  been  invested  in  the  names  of  Mrs.  Lynam 
herself,  Mr.  J.  Seeley,  church-warden,  and  the  Rev.  Ed- 
ward Rice,  D.D.,  as  trustees. 

"  Any  additional  donations,  to  be  similarly  applied, 
that  benevolent  persons  may  be  disposed  to  give  in  aid  of 
the  bereft  family  of  this  deserving  curate,  will  be  thank- 
fully received." 

But  in  this  statement  bare  justice  is  done  to  the 
departed.  Borne  down  by  infirm  health  and  adverse  cir- 
cumstances, Mr.  Lynam  had,  nevertheless,  supported  his 


AND    THE    PRIZES    IN    THE    CHURCH.  131 

large  family  up  to  the  period  of  his  last  illness,  without 
having  incurred  one  single  j)enny  of  debt ! 

Here,  then,  was  an  amiable  man — a  scholar — an  indus- 
trious man — a  man  who  acted  habitually  on  principle — 
who  shunned  incurring  any  obligation  which  he  was  not 
fully  satisfied  he  could  meet — left  in  his  most  trying  hour 
to  the  mercy  and  benevolence  of  his  fellows. 

He  died  at  fifty  a  curate !  His  people  loved  him.  This 
is  quite  clear.  They  ministered,  liberally,  to  his  wants 
in  his  last  illness;  attended  him  reverently  to  his  final 
resting-place ;  buried  him  at  their  own  cost ;  took  into 
immediate  consideration  the  necessities  of  his  widow  and 
orphans ;  and  shewed  their  attachment  to  their  pastor's 
memory  by  acts  of  mercy  to  his  bereaved  ones.  Etei'iial 
honour  to  such  benevolent  and  considerate  churchmen! 
But  ought  he  to  have  been  left  thus  to  struggle  single- 
handed  with  poverty  and  disease?  The  dispensers  of 
ecclesiastical  patronage,  where  are  they?  His  diocesan 
for  instance? 

Had  the  Bishop  of  London  no  small  benefice  to  bestow 
Upon  this  learned,  laborious,  and  exemplary  man?  His 
lordship  is  understood  to  be  the  special  patron  of  the 
working  clergy.  Lynam,  surely,  was  one!  Had  the 
dean  and  chapter  of  St.  Paul's  no  trifling  benefice  where- 
with to  acknowledge — not  reward — the  acceptable  and 
unremitting  labours  of  the  curate  on  one  of  the  most 
considerable  of  their  own  livings? 

One  item  in  the  subscription  list  is  singular  enough. 
It  must  be  a  misprint.  On  no  other  pinciple  can  it  he  ex- 
plained. The  vicarage  of  St.  Giles's,  Cripplegate,  is  one 
of  "the  Prizes  in  the  Church."  Its  annual  value,  accord- 
ing to  Parliamentary  returns,  exceeds  two  thousand 
POUNDS.  On  this  living  Mr.  Lynam  was  curate  for 
twelve  years :  the  last  twelve  years  of  his  life  :  in  truth, 
exhausted  and  overburdened  he  died  in  serving  it.  In  the 
subscription  opened  for  the  relief  of  his  widow  and 
orphans,  opposite  to  the  name  of  the  incumbent,  is 
placed  a  donation  of  five  pounds  !  Now,  the  printer's 
devil  who  made  such  an  abominable  mistake  deserves  a 
flagellation — a  flagellation  such  as  is  inflicted  in  the  7th 
Hussars,  under  the  hands  of  farriers,  rising  on  their  toes 
at  every  other  stroke.  No  milder  punishment  will  ex- 
piate such  intolerable  carelessness.     What  opinion  does 


332  THE    LATE    KEV.    ROBERT    LYNAM, 

the  little  inky  imp  dare  to  entertain  of  the  clergy  of  the 
Church  of  England,  to  suppose  it  probable  that  a  gentle- 
man who  holds  a  living,  the  annual  receipts  of  which 
exceed  two  thousand  pounds,  and  a  canonry  of  St.  Paul's 
to  boot,  would  dream  of  giving  to  the  distressed  family 
of  an  exemplary  curate,  after  twelve  years'  faithful  ser- 
vice, a  paltry  sum  of  five  pounds !  It's  impossible ! — 
incredible!  A  gross  misprint,  beyond  all  question.  And 
the  true  reading  should  be — for  '•'-Jive  jmu/uIs  understand 

FIFTY." 

Did  the  clergy  as  a  body  co-operate,  and  have — as  they 
easily  might  have — their  own  general  super-annuitant 
fund,  their  own  widows'  purse,  their  own  orphans'  relief, 
or  bounty  board,  the  necessity  for  such  pamful  appeals 
would  be  superseded. 

The  urgent  need  for  these  charities,  each  and  all  of 
them,  is  painfully  felt:  when  will  the  policy  of  organiz- 
ing them  be  admitted  and  acted  upon '( 

Turn  from  this  to  another  curious  case  o+'  ministerial 
vicissitude.  It  is  extracted  from  the  journal  of  a  mission- 
ary in  one  of  our  Colonial  dependencies ;  and  there  is  no 
ground  for  questioning  its  accuracy. 

"  We  followed  to  the  grave  yesterday,  Charles  W. 
Thompson,  aged  29  years,  foremast  hand  of  the  Panama, 
Captain  Crowell.  lie  was  the  eldest  son  of  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Thompson,  late  M.P.  for  Hull,  who  served  under 
Wellington  in  the  Peninsular  war,  and  also  at  the  battle 
of  Waterloo. 

"  He  received  the  name  of  Charles  William  Byron,  his 
mother  being  a  second  cousin  of  the  poet.  Lord  Byron ; 
but  he  preferred  to  drop  the  name  of  Byron. 

''^  After  graduating  at  Christ's  College,  Camhridge,  he  was 
ordained  over  a  parish  of  the  Church  of  England.  Not 
being  pleased  with  his  situation  there,  and  having  con- 
scientious scruples  about  the  connection  of  Church  and 
State,  his  relation  with  his  parish  was  dissolved.  His 
father  had  then  acquired  land  in  the  United  States,  and 
Charles,  with  his  wife,  was  proceeding  thither  on  business 
connected  therewith,  when  the  vessel,  being  driven  by  a 
strong  current,  and  surrounded  for  many  days  with  a 
thick  fog,  instead  of  reaching  New  York,  was  wrecked 
on  the  shore  of  Halifax. 

"  His  wife,  in  consequence  of  exposure,  was  thrown 


AND    THE    PRIZES    IN    THE    CHURCH.  133 

upon  a  bed  of  sickness,  and  about  a  month  after  expired. 
In  consequence  of  loss  from  this  wreck  he  was  obliged, 
in  order  to  prosecute  his  business,  to  return  to  England, 
and  on  his  reaching  America,  the  second  time, was  wrecked 
on  Long  Island.  After  forming  acquaintances  in  the 
family  of  Mr.  Vanfleet,  of  Hyde  Park,  in  Duchess  County, 
New  York,  he  was  again  married.  Plis  second  wife  died 
in  childbed,  leaving  him  a  little  son,  whom  he  left  at 
Hyde  Park,  with  his  grand-parents ;  thence  proceeding 
south,  on  business,  the  vessel  was  run  aground  on  the 
Jersey  shore,  which  was  the  third  time  that  this  unfor- 
tunate man  had  been  wrecked,  where  he  lost  his  remain- 
ing all.  Becoming  now  discouraged,  he  found  his  way  to 
Sag  Harbour,  where  his  name  was  enrolled  as  a  foremast 
hand  for  a  whaling  voyage  in  the  Pacific. 

'•  Though  he  says  he  had  not  lifted  a  fifty  pound  weight 
before  in  his  life,  he  was  now  ready  at  every  call,  and  by 
his  prompt  obedience  ingratiated  himself  into  the  favour 
of  his  master  and  officers,  and  by  his  meek  and  obliging 
conduct  into  the  good-will  of  all  his  companions.  When- 
ever a  dispute  arose  among  the  hands,  they  invariably 
looked  on  him  to  settle  it.  I  found,  on  getting  acquainted 
with  him,  that  by  his  extensive  travels  in  Europe  and 
America,  his  retentive  memory,  his  excellent  address,  and 
a  command  of  language,  he  was  a  man  qualified  to  please 
and  interest  the  most  intelligent  circles. 

"January  28,  at  three  o'clock,  p.m.,  he  entered  our 
house  apparently  much  fatigued,  and  requested  the  privi- 
lege of  reclining.  I  shewed  him  a  bed,  where  he  soon 
sunk  into  a  fit  of  apoplexy.  Upon  discovering  his  situa- 
tion. Dr.  White,  of  the  Majestic,  was  called,  who  attended 
upon  him  assiduously;  but  notwithstanding  what  could 
be  done,  his  spirit  departed  that  evening  about  eleven 
o'clock," 

And  then  to  crown  the  whole,  one  meets  with  an  ad- 
vertisement like  this,  running  the  round  of  the  morning 
and  evening  papers  : — 

"  The  Kev.  Thomas  Harvey  hereby  acknowledges  the 
kind  sympathy  of  an  'Anonymous'  friend,  contained  in  a 
letter  dated  July  1,  bearing  the  '  Liverpool '  post-mark, 
addressed  to  Mr.  Harvey,  enclosing  a  five-pound  Bank 
OF    England    note,  No.  00262,  date  April  26,  1845, 


134  THE    LATE    REV.    ROBERT    LYNAM,    ETC. 

towards  relieving  the  heavy  expenses  incurred  in  defend- 
ing himself  against  the  ruinous  and  oppressive  usaee  ol 

the  Bishop  of — — . 

"  Margaretting  Vicarage,  July  6,  1846." 
All  which  is  to  a  plain  man  perfectly  incomprehensible. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

A    GRAND    master's    ANCESTRAL    HALLS  :      HASTINGS    AND 
DONNINGTON. 

"  lu  a  speech  replete  with  feeling,  the  Duke  of  Sussex  proposed  the 
health  of  '  The  Earl  of  Moira,  the  friend  of  his  prince,  the  friend  of  his 
country,  and  the  friend  of  mankind.'  " — Keed's  Progress  of  Masonry. 

It  was  a  spirit-stirring  scene  when  this  emphatic  toast 
was  given. 

One  of  the  most  influential  and  unwearied  supporters 
of  Freemasonry  in  this  country  was  about  to  bid  the 
craft  a  reluctant  adieu,  and  the  body  resolved  to  mark 
their  sense  of  Lord  Moira's  past  services  by  a  public 
manifestation  of  attachment  and  regard.  His  lordship — 
then  Marquis  of  Hastings,  and  on  the  eve  of  his  depar- 
ture as  viceroy  of  India — was  invited  to  a  banquet  at 
which  no  less  than  five  hundred  Brethren  were  present, 
which  men  of  all  parties  struggled  to  witness,  and  which 
included  among  the  guests  no  less  than  five  princes  of  the 
blood.  Animated  by  one  and  the  same  object,  the  Dukes 
of  York,  Clarence,  Cumberland,  Kent,  and  Sussex,  met 
to  do  honour  to  acknowledged  worth. 

The  gallery  was  crowded  with  the  noble,  the  gentle- 
hearted,  and  the  fair.  A  costly  jewel,  of  matchless  work- 
manship, was  presented  to  the  marquis,  as  a  souvenir  from 
his  Brethren ;  and  amidst  acclamations,  long  and  loud, 
the  Duke  of  Sussex  gave  the  toast  so  well  remembered 
and,  in  after-times,  so  frequently  referred  to.  It  was  a 
proud  day  for  the  marquis  ;  and  yet  tinged  in  no  incon- 
siderable degree  with  melancholy.  After  all,  India  to 
him  was  exile,  gorgeous  though  it  might  prove.  His 
might  be  the  trappings  of  power — and  the  sweets  of 
patronage — and  the  exercise  of  authority — but  could 
these  compensate  for  absence  from  the  land  he  left  behind 


136  A    GRAND    master's    ANCESTRAL    HALLS  : 

him,  and  severance  from  the  friends  he  saw  around  him  ? 
But  the  27th  of  January,  1813,  is  memorable  in  Ma- 
sonic annals,  not  merely  as  a  day  of  festivity,  or  as  a 
day  in  which  the  fraternity  took  leave — a  grateful  and 
appropriate  leave — of  a  most  accomplished  brother — but 
as  a  day  in  which  a  brief  but  able  exposition  of  masonic 
principles  was  given  by  one  well  skilled  in  masonic 
practice. 

Lord  Moira  thus  spoke  : — 

"  They^  share  with  us  in  the  glowing  confidence  that 
the  beneficence  of  a  superintending  Father  perpetually 
shields  us.  They  participate  with  us  in  that  sure  hope 
of  the  future  which  ]nakes  our  present  existence  appear 
but  a  speck  in  the  immensity  of  our  immortal  heritage. 
They  are  assimilated  to  us  in  all  the  generous  affections 
of  that  charity  which  tells  us  that  kindness  to  all  must  he 
the  ohlution  most  acceptable  to  him,  who,  in  creating  all,  could 
have  no  motive  hut  their  hajipinessJ''' 

And  again  : — 

"  The  prodigious  extent  of  this  society  in  England  is 
little  imagined  by  those  who  are  not  called  upon  to  look 
to  its  numbers.  Its  perfect  tranquillity  attracts  no  atten- 
tion. That  so  vast  a  body  should  exist  in  such  silence, 
and  move  with  such  invariable  regularity,  while  it  would 
appear  to  the  casual  observer  that  no  eye  watches,  or 
hand  directs  its  procedure,  is  the  best  proof  of  its  rigid 
adherence  to  principles  in  their  nature  unalterably  advan- 
tageous to  society." 

Those  whom  these  records  of  past  triumphs  interest, 
will  not  be  averse  to  wile  away  a  summer's  noon  by 
a  saunter  around  Donnington — Lord  Moira's  ancestral 
home. 

The  house  is  imposing.  A  park  of  some  extent  sur- 
rounds it  ;  and  the  carriage-drive  to  the  hall  is  fringed 
on  either  side  with  noble  pollard  oaks.  Behind  the  man- 
sion rolls  the  Trent,  which  here  makes  a  very  beautiful 
bend.  Its  ripple  on  a  still  day  is  discernible,  and  delight- 
fully soothing.  The  gardens,  the  library,  the  pictures 
had  charms  tor  the  more  restless  spirits  of  our  party  ; 
but  to  me  the  most  pleasing  object,  on  that  glorious 
summer's  eve,  was  the  spectacle  of  the  deer  which  were 

'  The  royal  and  illustrious  personages  present. 


HASTINGS    AND    DONNINGTON.  137 

browsing,  in  groups,  under  the  trees  in  the  park  close  to 
the  house — graceful,  fearless,  and  confiding. 

Oh !  there  is  no  teacher  so  mighty  and  magnificent  as 
nature!  For  what  is  the  whole  creation,  earth,  air,  wa- 
ter,— the  winds, — the  waves, — the  stars, — mankind, — 
the  universe, — but  an  infinite  being  complete,  premedi- 
tated, varied  into  inscrutable  details,  and  breathing,  and 
palpitating  under  the  omnipresent  hand  of  God?  To 
this  feeling  one  of  the  most  gifted  of  her  race^  did  homage 
in  one  of  the  most  exquisite  sentiments  ever  traced  by 
her  versatile  pen — "  When  at  eve  at  the  boundary  of  the 
landscape,  the  heavens  appear  to  recline  so  closely  on  the 
earth,  imagination  pictures  beyond  the  horizon  an  asylum 
of  hope,  a  native  land  of  love ;  and  nature  seems  silently  to 
reyeat  that  man  is  immortal P^ 

A  tolerably  bold  digression  this  from  Donnington  ! 
Thither,  courteous  reader,  let  us  return  ! 

The  pictures  are  few  in  number :  and  as  a  collection 
not  remarkable.  But  there  are  one  or  two  among  them 
which  merit  lengthened  observation.  In  the  dining- 
room  hangs  a  portrait  of  "  Oliver  Cromwell."  Before 
this  successful  effort  of  the  limner  the  lover  of  art  will 
pause  delightedly.  The  expression  of  the  countenance, 
and  particularly  of  the  eye,  enchains  attention.  The 
longer  the  portrait  is  gazed  on  the  more  apparent  is  its 
excellence.  What  immovable  determination  about  the 
mouth !  And  what  a  sinister,  yet  hard  expression  has 
the  painter  transferred  to  that  leaden  eye  !  Fixedness  of 
purpose — cruelty — hatred — a  spirit  reckless  of  conse- 
quences— a  heart  insensible  to  the  pleadings  of  mercy — 
— all  live  upon  the  canvas  !  Eegicide  and  usurper !  He 
is  limned  to  the  life  !  The  murderer  of  his  king  !  The 
hypocrite  towards  his  Grod !  Scan  his  features  once 
more !  So  stern,  so  resolute,  so  inhuman.  Admirable 
deceiver!  We  can  now  conceive  somewhat  of  that 
measureless  ambition  which  the  government  of  a  realm 
could  not  satisfy  ;  and  of  that  ferocity  of  character — that 
quenchlessi  hatred — which  not  even  the  life-blood  of  his 
royal  master  could  appease  ! 

The  other  portrait — it  hangs  in  the  small  drawing- 
room — is  a  picture  of  Nell  Grwynne. 

2  Madame  de  Stael. 
10 


138     A  GRAND  master's  ANCESTRAL  HALLS  : 

The  soft  sleepy  look  of  the  eye — the  beauty  and  deli- 
cacy of  the  hand — the  expression  of  refined  licentious- 
ness— all  this  is  finely  given.  It  is  a  beautiful  picture. 
But  after  all  it  is  the  picture  of  a  courtezan.  And  it  is 
a  profanation  of  art — whether  statuary  or  painting — 
when  its  glorious  mission  is  made  subservient  to  the 
brutal  purposes  of  lust. 

How  difterent  is  Raphael's  Madonna  !^  ,  It  is  the  beauty 
of  a  lowly  being — the  beauty  of  innocent  thoughts — of 
hallowed  lips — of  modesty  that  grows  in  the  still  hamlet 
— of  a  heart  pure,  holy,  truthful,  and  confiding. 

The  library  is  a  noble  room,  and  crammed  with  books ; 
some  of  them  of  rare  and  curious  editions.  And  here,  be 
it  observed,  there  is  a  picture  of  some  mark.  It  is  that 
of  Compte  d'Artois,  afterwards  Charles  X.  It  hangs 
above  the  fire-place  ;  and  we  were  told  it  was  a  gift 
from  the  royal  personage  it  represents. 

Now  it  is  no  want  of  charity  to  assert  of  this  elaborate, 
but  laughter-moving  picture,  that  it  is  essentially  French. 
The  idea  is  French.  The  colouring  is  French.  The  atti- 
tude is  French.  The  bow  is  French.  The  self-compla- 
cent grin  which  the  painter  has  contrived  to  fix  on  the 
features  of  this  unfortunate  Prince  is  French.  Vive  la 
bagatelle!  What  a  diverting  picture  to  look  at  on  a 
gloomy  day!  The  Compte  d'Artois  is  supposed  to  be 
receiving  the  salutations  of  the  National  Guard.  He  is 
evidently  full  of  esprit :  in  other  words,  uncommonly 
frisky.  He  is  dressed  in  a  light  pea-green  coat,  and  has 
a  shred  of  white  ribbon — the  Bourbon  emblem — dang- 
ling from  his  button-hole.  His  "  chapeau"  is  in  his  hand, 
and  he  is  perpetrating  a  bow.  But  what  a  bow !  A  lit- 
tle girl  in  the  party  best  described  it.  She  laughed 
aloud,  and  cried  :  "Oh!  how  funny  !  Wh'dt  &  hopj)y-kicky 
bow  I"  "  Hoppy-kicky"  or  not,  the  attitude  certainly  is 
nondescript.  It  is  something  between  the  grimace  of  a 
finished  petit  maitre,  and  the  flourish  of  a  French  dancing- 
master.  The  drollery  of  the  whole  affair  is  irresistible. 
Ha!  Ha!  Ha! 

But  we  still  linger  in  the  library.  Books  of  varied 
merit,  and  in  various  tongues,  are  heaped  around  ;  but  in 
glancing  at  some  dozen  volumes,  I  was  struck  with  the 

^  In  the  Bridgewater  Gallery. 


HASTINGS    AND    DONNINGTON.  139 

predominance  of  presentation  copies.  Seven  out  of  the 
thirteen  were  "  from  the  author."  Most  of  these  were 
accompanied  with  some  courteous  and  grateful  expres- 
sion. It  spoke  much,  methought,  for  the  kindly  and 
generous  character  of  the  receiver. 

Among  these,  one  wretchedly  bound  and  well-worn 
volume,  from  adventitious  circumstances,  possessed  a 
degree  of  interest  not  intrinsically  its  own.  It  was  a  col- 
lection of  speeches  and  pamphlets  which  had  been  called 
forth  by  the  Union.  Within  its  limits  were  to  be  found 
the  passionate  effusions  of  Flood  and  Barre.  It  had  once 
belonged  to  Fox,  and  bore  his  autograph  ;  and  had  be- 
sides several  marginal  annotations  in  his  own  careless  but 
peculiar  scrawl.  From  his  possession  it  appeared  to 
have  passed  into  the  library  of  Marquis  Wellesley,  and 
was  by  him  presented  with  a  few  graceful  expressions  of 
admiration  and  regard  to  Lord  Moira. 

Methought  it  was  rarely  that  upon  the  same  fly-leaf 
three  such  autographs  were  to  be  read  as  those  of 
"Charles  James  Fox,"  "Wellesley,"  and  "Moira." 

But  I  must  hasten  on. 

That  generous  and  confiding  benevolence  of  character 
which  had  rallied  around  him  so  many  firm  adherents 
during  life,  was  touchingly  exhibited  after  death.  In 
the  necessary  examination  of  his  papers,  letter  after 
letter  presented  itself  from  parties  whom  his  bounty 
had  cheered ;  his  influence  assisted ;  or  his  prompt  inter- 
vention raised  from  despair.  The  extent  of  his  ready 
sympathy  with  soitow  was  known  only  when  the  grave 
had  closed  upon  him.  In  his  good  deeds  he  had  observed 
the  Masonic  virtue  of  silence. 

And  yet  after  all  his  devotion  to  his  prince — his  pro- 
longed and  frank  hospitality  to  the  exiled  Bourbons — his 
unhesitating  and  undeviating  loyalty  in  times  of  no  com- 
mon difficulty — his  many  and  costly  sacrifices  to  main- 
tain the  Prince  of  Wales's  honour — he  surrendered  his 
last  breath  in  what  may  be  termed  honourable  exile. 
Did  he  in  after-years  ever  recall  this  pithy  passage  in  his 
parting  address? 

"  The  illustrious  chairman  has  praised  me  as  the  friend 
of  the  prince.  Can  I  assume  merit  for  my  attachment 
when  all  the  honour  of  such  a  connection  through  a 
length  of  years  must  have  been  bestowed  upon  me  t     If 


140    A  GRAND  master's  ANCESTRAL  HALLS,  ETC. 

I  had  the  happiness  of  being  distinguished  by  such  par- 
tiality, adherence  was  hut  a  slender  return,  thougli  the  only  one 
I  could  maker 

Or  was  his  sad  but  inevitable  conclusion  that  so  well 
expressed  by  Burton:  "The  attachments  of  mere  mirth 
are  but  the  shadows  of  that  true  friendship,  of  which  the  sin- 
cere affections  of  the  heart  are  the  substance." 

Failings  he,  probably,  had :  but  who  would  wish  to 
recall  them  ? 

Rather  apply  to  him  the  acute  remark  of  a  popular 
writer:  "  The  last  triumph  of  disinterestedness  is  to  for- 
get our  own  superiority  in  our  sympathy,  solicitude,  ten- 
derness, respect,  and  self-denying  zeal  for  those  who  are 
below  us." 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

HAlF    A    DOZEN    WORDS    ABOUT    THE    POOR. 

"  Yirtue  and  intelligence  are  the  great  interests  of  a  community,  in- 
cluding all  others,  and  worth  all  others ;  and  the  noblest  agency  is  that 
by  which  they  are  advanced." — Dr.  Chaxnixg. 

In  some  book  or  pamphlet,  which  I  am  ashamed  to 
say,  I  have  forgotten,  a  passage  occurs  mainly  to  this 
effect : — 

"  Hope  and  imagination,  the  wings  of  the  soul,  carry- 
ing it  forward  and  upward,  languish  in  the  poor  ;  for  the 
future  is  uninviting.  The  darkness  of  the  present  broods 
over  future  years.  The  idea  of  a  better  lot  almost  fades 
from  a  poor  man's  mind.  He  ceases  to  hope  for  his  chil- 
dren as  well  as  for  himself.  Even  parental  love  stag- 
nates through  despair.    Thus  poverty  starves  rhe  mind." 

The  remark  is  just.  Under  the  pressure  of  poverty 
both  mind  and  body  become  degraded.  No  one  can  judge 
so  accurately  of  what  is  actually  endured  by  the  poor 
man — of  the  many  weights  and  hindrances  laid  on  him 
which  keep  him  poor — as  those  who  live  near  him  year 
after  year,  watch  him  closely ;  stand  by  his  sick-bed ; 
are  privy  to  his  manifold  trials  ;  and  witness  how  bravely 
he  battles  with  that  saddest  union  of  all — poverty  and 
disease. 

No  one — in  a  rural  district — -pays  so  dearly  for  every 
article  he  consumes  as  the  poor  man ! 

No  one  has  such  scant  measure  dealt  out  to  him — no 
one  suffers  so  systematically  from  "  false  weights  and 
deceitful  balances"  as  the  poor  man. 

From  no  one  is  exacted  a  higher  rate  of  interest  than 
from  the  poor  man. 

Let  me  fortify  these  assertions  by  proof. 


142  HALF    A    DOZEN    WORDS 

The  poor  man  buys  tlie  common  necessaries  of  life  in 
driblets. 

Half  an  ounce  of  tea;  a  quarter  of  a  pound  of  cheese  ; 
half  a  quarter  of  a  pound  of  butter ;  such  are  the  petty 
quantities  which  scanty  means  compel  the  poor  man  to 
purchase.  ■  He  can  give  no  large  order.  It  is  beyond 
him.  Now  mark  the  result.  He  pays  for  his  WTetched 
tea — sloe  leaves  the  chief  ingredient — tour-pence  halfpenny 
an  ounce,  or  at  the  rate  of  six  shillings  a  pound.  The 
rich  man  purchases  drinkable  tea  for  five.  Again.  For 
his  scanty  morsel  of  cheese — some  quarter  of  a  pound — 
the  se)f  pays  three-pence;  and  for  the  like  quantity  of 
rancid  butter  foui-pencc.  The  rich  man  buys  his  cheese 
at  nine-pence  per  pound,  and  his  salt  butter  at  a  shilling 
But  the  poor  man  is  not  merely  amerced — I  still  limit 
my  remarks  to  rural  districts,  and  rural  "general  dealers" 
— in  point  of  price  ;  he  is  fleeced,  and  that  abominably, 
in  point  of  weight. 

1  once  entered,  to  confirm  or  dissipate  my  suspicions, 
a  shop  of  this  description  in  a  very  poor  distiict.  I  had 
heard  it  repeatedly  described  as  "a  very  money-getting 
concern  ;"  and  knew  that  within  ten  years  two  parties 
had  retired  from  it  in  easy  circumstances.  It  was  a  dark, 
gloomy  den  ;  well  and  variously  stocked  ;  and  was  scented 
with  any  thing  but  the  fragrance  of  "Araby  the  blest." 
I  was  examining  some  coarse,  thick  garden  gloves  which 
were  lying  in  a  side  window,  when  an  aged,  emaciated 
creature  entered — a  widow  by  her  dress — and,  with  a 
lowiy  curtsey  and  submissive  voice,  asked  to  be  served 
with  "  half  an  ounce  of  good  tea."  The  master  was 
himself  at  the  counter. 

"  Oh  !  ah !  we  know  what  you  want ;  three-pence  the  half 
juncell"  and  as  he  spoke  he  seized  a  large  grimy  canister. 
Before,  however,  he  weighed  the  article  wanted,  he  put 
a  square  piece  of  thick,  coarse,  brown  paper  in  one  scale, 
and  a  half-ounce  weight  in  the  other,  and  then  poured  the 
tea  upon  the  coarse,  heavy  paper.  That  told  its  own 
TALE  ;  and  the  miserable  driblet  which  the  widow  was 
tendered  for  her  three-pence  may  be  imagined. 

At  this  stage  of  the  proceedings  I  ventured  to  interfere. 

"You  can  never  call  that  just  weight.  It  is  not  half 
an  ounce  of  tea ;  you  must  re-weigh  it ;  and  before  you 
do  so  take  out  the  paper." 


ABOUT    THE    POOK.  143 

'•I  have  weighed  that  tea  as  I  weigh  goods  in  general, 
and  for  every  body,"  said  he,  doggedly  and  angrily; 
"  and  I  shall  make  no  alteration." 

"  But  see  you  not  the  injustice  of  the  practice  ?  This 
poor  woman  loses  the  weight  of  that  thick,  brown  paper 
in  her  halt-ounce  of  tea.  There  ought  not  to  be  any 
paper  at  all  in  the  scale.  If  there  be,  you  wrong  the 
purchaser." 

Further  reply  to  me  the  general  dealer  vouchsafed 
not.  But,  turning  with  a  furious  glance  to  his  customer, 
he  exclamed — "  Come  !  no  bother  !     Take  it  or  leave  it !'' 

"  It  must  be  as  the  gentleman  pleases,"  said  the  poor 
reature,  submissively ;  and,  grasping  her  tea,  tottered 
feebly  away. 

While  I  was  apparently  examining  the  gloves,  but  in 
ireality  pondering  over  in  my  mind  what  was  the  next 
advisable  step  to  take,  a  young  woman  with  an  infant  in 
her  arms  entered  the  shop.  She  wanted  "  a  little  flour, 
and  half  a  pound  of  currants  to  make  a  plum  bun  for  a 
sick  child." 

The  next  move  was  bolder. 

Near  the  '•  general  dealer"  stood  a  loaf  of  white  sugar 
just  unpacked.  Than  the  blue  paper  which  had  formed 
a  casing  for  it  none  could  well  be  thicker,  coarser,  or 
heavier.  The  latter  quality  was  a  valuable  recommenda- 
tion in  that  dark  den  of  robbery  and  fraud.  Twisting 
oft'  a  huge  strip  from  the  blue  mass  beside  him,  the 
knavish  owner  c[uickly  placed  it  in  the  bottom  of  one 
scale,  poured  the  currants  upon  it,  and  then  weighed 
them  to  a  nicety. 

Once  more  I  ventured  to  expostulate. 

"Mr.  Gregory" — I  speak  of  him  under  that  name — 
"  you  are  not  giving  this  poor  creature  weight ;  and  you 
know  it." 

"How  so,  Sir?  I  never  knew  a  customer  of  mine 
that  had  not  weight ;  and  good  weight,  too!" 

"Can  you  maintain  that  assertion  in  this  instance? 
Look  at  the  paper  in  which  those  currants  were  weigh- 
ed." 

"Would  you  have  me  weigh  them  without  paper?" 
said  he,  pertly  ;  "I'm  no  gentleman  ;  I  don't  profess  to 
be  one  ;  but  I  should  call  that  a  very  dirty  way  of  doing 
business." 


144  HALF    A    DOZEN    WORDS 

"It  is  the  just,  legal,  and  fair  mode;  the  other  is 
fraudulent." 

"My  customers.  Sir,  who  are,  for  the  most  part,  par- 
ticular, wouldn't  stand  it." 

"We  will  pat  it  to  this  one.  Would  you  prefer" — 
and  I  turned  to  the  trembling  being  at  the  counter,  who 
had  listened  eagerly  to  all  that  passed — "  having  your 
goods  weighed  out  to  you  in  the  bare  scale,  or  having 
them"— 

"Oh!"  cried  the  knave,  preventing  and  anticipating 
her  reply — "  I  allow  none  to  pick  and  choose  here.  The 
rule  of  my  shop  is  to  weigh  every  thing  in  paper;  and  I 
will  depart  from  it  for  no  one.  Now,  mistress,  yours  or 
mine?     Be  quick:  I'm  busy!" 

"  Refuse  his  goods,"  said  I,  earnestly  ;  "  refuse  them 
and  go  elsewhere." 

"  I  cannot,  Sir,"  said  she,  despondingly,  "  I  cannot ; 
Tm  a  hooker!'''' 

I  understood  afterwards,  though  not  then,  the  bondage 
which  those  words  implied.  Gregory  grinned  malici- 
ously when  his  victim  uttered  them  ;  and  again,  when 
hanging  her  head  she  slunk  silently  and  stealthily  away. 

I  paid  for  my  leathern  mittens — not,  I  confess,  with 
the  best  possible  grace  or  in  the  best  possible  humour — 
and  as  I  walked  homewards  resolved  on  showing  up  this 
system  elsewhere. 

Within  the  week  1  made  my  way  to  the  inspector  of 
weights  and  measures  ;  told  him  what  I  had  witnessed ; 
and  requested  his  interference.  The  man  in  office  looked 
starch  and  prim  ;  then  hemmed  and  hawed  a  good  deal ; 
and,  at  last,  observed  : — "Mr.  Gregory  is  a  thriving,  nay, 
a  wealthy  man ;  I  have  examined  more  than  once  his 
weights  and  measures ;  he  produces  them  readily;  and 
I  have  always  found  them  correct!" 

"  But  you  cannot  sanction  his  present  mode  of  carrying 
on  business ;  you  must  feel  that  he  deserves  exposure, 
and  the  poor  redress." 

He  paused  for  a  moment,  then  looked  up  quickly,  and 
emarked : — 

"  Pray,  Sir,  did  you  buy  any  article  of  him  in  which 
either  measure  or  weight  was  concerned? 

"I  did  not." 

"Did  any  purchaser  in  your  hearing  complain?" 


ABOUT    THE    POOR.  145 

"No." 

*'  Then  I  cannot  interfere." 

"Indeed!" 

"  I  have  no  grounds  to  go  upon !" 

"  And  you  think  wholesale  robbery  like  Gregory's 
should  receive  no  check?" 

"  Quite  the  contrary ;  it  is  barefaced — shocking — ^base, 
and  should  unquestionably  be  put  down." 

"  By  whom?  Name  the  party  able  or  empowered  so 
to  do,  and  no  difficulty — no  distance  shall  deter  me  from 
seeking  him." 

"  I  should  say,"  said  the  inspector,  in  a  tone  of  pique, 
evidently  vexed  at  my  pertinacity  ;  "  I  should  say  it  is  a 
case  for  the  neighbouring  magistrate,  Mr.  Pape." 

"  Enough.     I  will  see  him  to-morrow  !" 

Mr.  Pape — the  nearest  magistrate! — lived  about  seven 
miles  oft'.  To  reach  his  domicile  you  had  to  ford  a  morass 
almost  impassable  in  winter  ;  or  to  flounder  through  the 
sands  of  a  badly-constructed  road,  in  the  ruts  of  which 
a  fullgrown  man  might  safely  take  up  his  last  resting- 
place  any  day  in  summer.  He  was  a  country  gentleman 
who  farmed  his  own  estate ;  and  had  his  peculiar  likings 
and  distastes.  He  liked  an  easy  chair,  old  port,  leisure, 
cigars,  fly-fishing  in  May  ;  the  moors  in  August ;  phea- 
sant-shooting in  October ;  and  a  sharp  burst  with  the 
hounds  any  morning  in  November.  These  were  his 
likings.  His  distastes  were  as  decided.  He  detested 
business;  abhorred  writing;  eschewed  reading;  hated 
being  obliged  to  play  the  listener  to  any  statement,  how- 
ever brief;  or  to  consult  "  The  Magistrate's  Vade 
Mecum,"  or  "Every  Man  his  own  Lawyer,"  for  any 
purpose,  however  urgent.  His  constant  inquiry  ran — 
"  Why  upon  earth  can't  people  live  in  peace?" 

Mr.  Pape  had  just  despatched  an  early  breakfast  when 
I  rode  up  to  his  door,  sent  in  my  card,  and  begged  to 
"  see  him  on  magisterial  business."  No  interruption 
could  have  been  less  opportune.  The  month  was  Octo- 
ber :  the  morning  bright  and  cheering.  The  dogs  were 
at  the  door,  and  the  keeper  in  attendance.  Mr.  Pape  had 
donned  his  sporting  costume,  and  was  on  the  very  eve  of 
starting  in  tip-top  spirits  for  a  distant  and  most  promis- 
ing covert.     I  won't  attempt  to  define  where  at  that 


146  HALF    A    DOZEN    WORDS 

moment  he  wislied  me,  and  her  Majesty's  commission, 
and  his  magisterial  qualifications  ! 

He  entered  the  study  with  "  unwilling  step  and  slow," 
and  in  a  most  glorious  fume. 

"Business?  of  a  magisterial  nature,  I  understood? — 
aye,  exactly!  Why,  in  the  devil's  name,  cannot  people 
live  in  peace?  What  demon  induces  them  to  be  eter- 
nally at  war?  Squabble,  squabble,  squabble! — folks 
grow,  methinks,  more  tetchy,  perverse,  and  wayward 
every  day !  My  watchword  is  peace.  All  I  covet  is 
peace.  All  I  sought  in  burying  myself  in  this  obscure 
and  retired  corner  of  the  county  was  peace.  The  only 
boon  I  crave  on  earth  is  peace.  Yet  strife  and  uproar 
rage  around  me ;  and,  as  surely  as  aught  disagreeable 
occurs  in  this  district,  so  surely  am  I  compelled  to  deal 
with  it.  You'll  require  a  summons,  probably?  Haven't 
one  left !  Rattle"^this  was  the  pointer— "tore  up  the 
last  this  morning.  And  now,  Sir,  what  annoyance,  tres- 
pass, discomfort,  loss,  or  injury  brings  you  hither?" 

I  briefly  explained  the  nature  of  my  errand.  Long 
before  I  closed,  he  gazed  wistfully  out  of  the  window, 
and  then  burst  forth  impatiently  : — 

"  Good  Heavens,  Sir,  you  can't  be  serious  !  Yon  surely 
don't  expect  7ne  to  interfere  in  a  matter  of  this  nature? 
This  is  purely  a  question  for  the  inspector  of  weights  and 
measures.     By  all  means  apply  to  him." 

I  watched  my  opportunity,  and  struck  in  : — 

"  I  have.  He  declared  himself  powerless,  and  advised 
my  seeking  redress  from  you." 

.  "There  it  is!  That's  the  very  word  !  The  term  which 
I  have  daily  dinned  into  my  ears  till  it  threatens  to  drive 
me  into  a  mad-house.  '  Redress  !'  '  Redress  !'  Why  can't 
people  live  in  peace,  and  then  they  would  need  no  redress  ? 
/  can't  help  you  :  go  to  the  inspector." 

"  He  bade  me  come  to  you." 

"  Oh,  he  did — did  he  ?  I'll  make  a  memorandum  of 
his  officiousness,  in  the  hope  that  in  one  shape  or  other 
I  shall  be  able  to  return  his  civility.  And  now.  Sir,  pray 
be  satisfied  with  my  reply — 1  cannot  aid  you.'''' 

"  Who  can  ?" 

"I  should  say  the  inspector.  Weights  and  measures 
are  his  province :  repeat  that  to  him  from  me." 


j\BOUT    THE    POOR.  147 

"  I  fear  it  will  be  unavailing." 

'''■Then  be  at  peace.'''' 

I  stared  at  him  somewhat  wildly.  He  took  my  look 
for  dissent  and  disapprobation ;  and,  without  giving  me 
an  opportunity  for  comment,  continued  : — 

"  Oh,  yes !  I'm  quite  aware  of  it.  No  advice  more 
unpalatable !  There  never  was  such  a  contentious,  ill- 
conditioned,  quarrelsome,  litigious  crew  as  that  which 
inhabits  this  district.  Why  harass  me?"  Again  he 
gazed  wistfully  from  the  window,  and  his  face  grew 
darker.  "  Such  a  glorious  morning !"  he  murmured, 
"  and  the  dogs  in  such  condition !"  Then,  in  a  louder 
key,  "I  repeat,  why  harass  me?  You  have  the  remedy 
in  your  own  hands." 

"May  I  ask  how?" 

"  If  Grregory,  as  you  affirm — and  I  doubt  it  not — cheats 
as  to  weight  and  measure,  tell  the  poor  to  cut  his  shop 
and  seek  another." 

"  It  is  the  only  general  shop  within  four  miles." 

"  Then  start  an  opposition." 

"  That  has  been  tried  ;  and  unsuccessfully." 

"In  what  way?" 

"  In  two  instances  parties  have  come  forward,  stocked 
a  small  shop,  and  commenced  business,  avowedly  to  op- 
pose this  unjust  and  unscrupulous  man.  Instantly  he 
has  lowered  his  prices,  and  undersold  them  ;  has,  in  fact, 
beaten  them  off  the  field,  and  ruined  them.  He  exults 
in  this.  He  declares  that  in  this  district  he  will  have  no 
competitor.  You  do  not  suffer  from  this  policy,  Mr.  Pape, 
nor  do  I ;  but  the  poor  do,  and  most  severely." 

"  Then  let  them  submit,  and  be  at  peace.  You  will 
do  this  neighbourhood  great  service  if  you  will  constantly 
preach  peace  to  the  poor.  I  will  send  you  a  little 
American  work  on  this  subject.  It  is  written  by  the 
Reverend  Noah  Worcester.  He  lived  to  a  great  age — 
seventy-five,  I  believe.  He  wrote  three  or  four  books 
every  year  of  his  life.  But  every  one  of  them  upon  the 
self-same  subject — peace!" 

Again  I  stared. 

"  It  is  true,  I  assure  you.  I  wish  we  had  had  him  in 
this  neighbourhood.  What  a  glorious  morning !  Do  you 
shoot?"  .       /,  • 

"Never/' 


148  HALF    A    DOZEN    WORDS 

"Dear  me  !  you  must  find  the  country  deplorably 
dull ;  my  keeper  and  dogs — " 

"  But  as  to  this  man  Gregory  ?"  said  I,  interrupting 
him. 

"  Oh  !  I  can  say  no  more  about  him  ;  I  cannot  act ; 
and  the  inspector,  it  seems,  will  not." 

"What,  then.  Sir,  do  you  advise?" 

"  Oh,  think  no  more  about  it,  and  live  in  peace !' 

Further  conference  was  useless.  The  justice  grew, 
inomentarily,  more  fidgety ;  the  dogs  more  impatient,  and 
the  birds  more  shy.  I  made  my  bow,  and  retired.  To 
battle  with  constituted  authorities  is  an  unequal  and 
thankless  warfare.  I  could  not,  however,  "  forget  the 
subject,"  or  Mr.  Pape's  mode  of  dealing  with  it.  But 
Gregory  was  secure ;  he  battened,  unmolested,  upon  his 
gains  ;  and  for  aught  I  know  to  the  contrary,  wrings,  to 
this  hour,  an  enormous  and  infamous  profit  from  the 
bowels  of  the  poor. 

And  now  as  to  the  '•  hooker.'''' 

Determined  to  master  the  system  in  all  its  villany,  I 
succeeded,  by  dint  of  inquiry,  in  ascertaing  the  exaction 
and  extortion  by  means  of  which  such  men  as  Gregory, 
even  in  the  poorest  neighbourhoods,  and  from  the  most 
wretched  population,  rapidly  attain  independence.  I 
found  "booker"  to  be,  as  I  suspected,  equivalent  to 
debtor ;  and  that  whenever  a  peasant,  from  his  master's 
forgetfulness  or  inability  to  pay  his  labourers  their 
weekly  wages  on  the  Saturday  night,  or  from  the  visitation 
of  sickness  in  the  labourer's  family,  or  from  disease  or 
accident  disabling  himself  from  toil,  or  from  severe 
weather  suspending  farming  operations,  or  from  the 
operation  of  all  or  any  one  of  these  contingencies,  is 
obliged  to  procure  from  the  shop  his  weekly  supply  of 
necessaries  on  credit  and  not  for  cash,  he  instantly  be- 
comes a  '■'■  hooker r''  Thenceforth,  poor  wretch!  he  has 
to  battle  with  usury  as  well  as  penury  !  The  general 
dealer  afiects  to  call  booking  a  privilege — to  his  wretch- 
ed dupes  the  indulgence  is  ruin.  The  charge  ranges 
from  12  to  15  per  cent.,  and  is  rarely  under  10.  Two 
accounts,  from  the  circumstance  of  a  sudden  death,  I  had 
an  opportunity  of  analyzing.  The  amount  of  one  was 
nineteen  shillings  and  eight-pence.  In  this  document  three 
shillings  and  eleven-pence  were  modestly  charged  for 


ABOUT    THE    POOR.  149 

booking !  The  sum  total  of  the  other  was  <£2.  3s.  In 
this  seven  shillings  and  two-pence  were  demanded  for 
booking.  The  "  privilege"  was  set  down  week  after 
week  as  a  regular  item.  It  appeared  as  systematically 
and  formally  as  the  charge  for  tea,  or  soap,  or  candles, 
or  colFee.  It  was  assumed  to  be  a  fair  and  recognised 
demand,  though  inserted,  I  thought,  somewhat  ad  libitum. 
"  Booking"  two-pence  ;  "  booking"  five-pence  ;  "  book- 
ing" three-pence  ;  "  booking"  seven-pence ;  and  so  on 
to  the  close  of  the  account. 

Once  "  a  booker,"  the  poor  man  must  submit  to  what- 
ever scant  measv7-e,  or  shoi't  weight,  or  barefaced  tricliery  the 
general  dealer  chooses  to  inflict  on  him.  He  is  no  longer 
a  free  man.  He  is  in  bondage ;  and  to  the  sternest,  most 
unscrupulous,  and  most  exacting  of  masters. 

Ketreat  is  impossible  ;  rescue  all  but  hopeless. 

And  then  thoughtless  and  inconsiderate  men  talk  of 
the  improvidence,  and  waste,  and  want  of  economy  in 
the  poor,  and  wonder  how  it  comes  to  pass  that  Grego- 
rys grow  rich;  and  how  the  English  peasant  closes  a 
long  and  laborious  life,  crippled  with  rheumatism,  amid 
the  comforts  (!)  of  a  union  workhouse  ! 

That  the  exactions  complained  of  are  not  confined  to 
any  particular  locality  may  be  gathered  from  the  follow- 
ing incident.  An  invalid  baronet,  now  deceased,  took 
up,  some  three  or  four  years  since,  his  temporary  sojourn 
in  a  village  in  one  of  the  eastern  counties.  There,  as 
elsewhere,  he  was  a  considerate  and  generous  friend  to 
the  labourer  ;  made  himself  master  of  his  circumstances  ; 
entered  into  all  his  little  difficulties  ;  and  though  a  con- 
firmed invalid  himself,  disproved  by  his  practice  the 
adage  that  "  sickness  makes  us  selfish ;"  he  forgot,  in 
fact,  his  own  ailments  in  ministering  to  the  sorrows  and 
privations  of  those  around  him.  Careful  investigation 
convinced  him  that  several  families  in  the  village — and 
those  maintaining  the  best  character — were  engaged  in 
a  hopeless  struggle  to  pay  off  a  debt  due  to  a  neigh- 
bouring huckster ;  a  debt  which  paralyzed  every  effort 
■which  their  industry  could  make,  and  was  slowly  but 
surely  bringing  them  down  to  pauperism  and  the  work- 
house. Discerning  as  well  as  compassionate,  he  did  not 
think  it  judicious  at  once  to  discharge  the  obligations  of 
these  parties,  from  an  apprehension  of  being  beset  by 


150  HALF    A    DOZEN    WORDS 

applications  from  others  labouring  under  similar  difficul- 
ties, but  who  could  not  boast  of  the  same  good  character. 
For  a  period,  then,  the  generous  baronet  was  passive. 
But  after  he  had  left  the  parish,  and  after  all  connection 
between  him  and  it  had  apparently  ceased,  he  remitted 
a  sum— ^fifty  pounds,  I  think — to  the  curate,  with  direc- 
tions to  expend  it  as  far  as  it  would  go,  in  releasing  cer- 
tain parties  from  their  difficulties. 

The  curate,  judicious  and  thoughtful  on  his  part, 
imagined  that  this  welcome  largess  opened  out  to  him  a 
prospect  of  great  usefulness ;  that  the  sum  might  be 
spread  over  a  vast  surface;  and  release  from  thraldom 
many  an  aching  and  anxious  heart  among  his  flock.  He 
made  out  a  list  of  debts  and  debtors  :  he  found  several 
>f  the  items — to  use  the  mildest  phrase — equivocal;  and 
he  boldly  offered  to  the  principal  creditors — two  neigh- 
bouring shopkeepers — immediate  payment  of  their  claims 
on  John  Brown,  and  Thomas  Jones,  and  Philip  Creed, 
and  Job  Stubbs,  and  a  dozen  other  equally  euphonious 
and  unfortunate  debtors,  provided  they — the  said  general 
dealers — would  accept  ten  sMllings  in  the  poimd!  The  out- 
cry they  raised  was  wonderful !  They  actually  talked 
of  "conscience  ;"  and  vowed  they  "had  lost  money  every 
year  that  they  had  been  in  business."  They  declared  their 
"  annual  profits  would  not  keep  them  in  shoe-leather." 
How,  amidst  all  this,  they  managed  to  buy  fields,  and 
build  houses,  and  bet  at  races,  and  run  splash  dog-carts, 
were  points  they  did  not  stop  to  explain.  They  profess- 
ed themselves  "  surprised  and  shocked  that  such  a  propo- 
sal had  been  made  to  them."  "  How  were  they,"  they 
inquired,  "to  meet  their  engagements  if  their  debtors 
paid  them  ten  shillings  in  the  pound  ?"  They  considered 
the  offer — "an  insult" — a  "direct  and  positive  insult!" 
It  was  "an  attack  upon  their  character :"  and  as  such 
they  "resented"  it. 

The  curate  observed,  very  quietly,  that  the  offer  was 
not  made  in  the  light  of  an  insult  but  of  a  benefit :  was 
sorry  his  object  had  been  misconstrued ;  and  that  there 
was  an  end  of  the  matter. 

Before  the  week  ended  the  parties  came  to  the  clergy- 
man, and  told  him  that,  "  purely  out  of  respect  for  him, 
— purely  to  show  their  good  opinion  of  him," — they 
would  accept  his  proposal. 


ABOUT    THE    POOR.  151 

The  money  was  paid,  and  receipts  given.  As  they  left 
one  of  them  observed  to  the  other — "  No  bad  job:  even 
as  it  is,  a  ten  per  cent,  stroke  of  business  I  take  it." 

How  much  '■'■  booking'^  was  included  in  these  notable 
accounts  I  could  never  learn.  The  parish  was  not  mine , 
nor  had  I  access  to  the  relieved  parties. 

The  evil,  then,  being  admitted,  whence  is  to  arise  the 
remedy  ? 

Is  the  suggestion  rash  or  inopportune,  that  there 
should  be  in  every  poor-law  union  an  ofticer  entitled  "  the 
Poor  Man's  Protector,"  having  as  his  care  the  poor  man's 
interests;  and  for  his  special  mission  this  result — that 
just  measure  and  full  weight  be  meted  out  to  the  poor 
man  in  those  petty  shops — particularly  in  rural  districts 
— where  the  poor  man  deals? 

It  may  be  answered  that  "  the  local  magistracy  is  the 
poor  man's  protector  :  he  needs  no  other." 

That  the  local  magistrates  are,  in  the  main,  a  most 
valuable  body — that  the  services  they  render  their  coun- 
try are  continuous  and  important — that  their  decisions 
are,  with  rare  exceptions,  merciful — few  will  deny. 

But  they  are  compelled  to  administer  the  law  as  they 
find  it.  They  are  tied  to  an  equitable  discharge  of  their 
responsible  functions  without  respect  of  persons.  Sta- 
tutes fetter  them.     Precedents  bind  them. 

Something  more  than  this  is  required  for  the  poor 
man.      He  needs  an  advocate.      He  requires  a  protector. 

If  it  be  objected  that  the  evil  is  petty  ;  affects  only  a 
class;  is  not  worthy  the  attention  of  government;  must 
be  left  to  provide  its  owm  remedy — I  reply,  that  of  go- 
vernment the  great- end  is  to  secure  freedom:  but  its 
proper  and  highest  function,  is  to  watch  over  the  interests 
of  EACH  AND  ALL,  and  to  Open  to  a  community  the 
widest"  field  for  the  happiness  of  all. 

If  the  class  I  am  contending  for,  constitute  the  objec- 
tion, then  I  must  call  in  another  authority. 

"  Kindness  to  the  poor,"  writes  the  learned  and  excel- 
lent Isaac  Barrow,  "doth  in  good  part  constitute  a  man 
pious,  and  signally  declareth  him  such  ;  is  a  necessary 
ingredient  of  his  piety,  and  a  conspicuous  mark  thereof." 

Woe  to  that  nation  which  regards  poverty  as  criminal, 
andtreatsit  accordingly ;  which  does  not  mitigate  its  pains, 
but  strives,  impiously,  to  "put  it  down"  altogether. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

THE    TRUE    POLICY    OF    THE    ORDER. 

"  Live  a  life  of  faith  and  hope.  Believe  in  God's  great  purposes 
towards  the  human  race.  Believe  in  the  mighty  power  of  truth  and 
love.  Believe  in  the  capacities  and  greatness  of  human  nature.  Carry 
to  your  work  a  trustful  spirit.  Do  not  waste  your  breath  in  wailing  over 
the  times.  Strive  to  make  them  better.  Do  not  be  disheartened  by  evils. 
Feel  through  your  whole  soul  that  evil  is  not  the  mightiest  power  in  the 
universe,  that  it  is  permitted  only  to  call  forth  the  energy  of  love,  wisdom, 
persuasion  and  prayer  for  its  removal.  Understand  that  this  is  the  great- 
est power  which  God  gives  to  man — the  power  of  acting  generously  on 
the  soul  of  his  brother  ;  of  communicating  to  others  a  divine  spirit,  of 
awakening  in  others  a  heavenly  light,  which  is  to  outlive  the  stars." — 
Essay  on  Catholicism. 

It  is  a  remark  frequently  hazarded  about  Masonry — 
sometimes  in  a  friendly  and  at  others  in  a  hostile  spirit — 
that  the  body,  as  a  body,  effects  nothing ;  that  its  influ- 
ence is  unfelt — unseen ;  that  in  a  social,  civil,  and  com- 
mercial sense  it  is  a  non-entity  ! 

Is  the  accusation  true  or  false? 

Of  the  numerical  strength  of  the  Society  of  Freema- 
sons in  this  country  they  only  can  form  a  just  idea  who 
have  access  to  its  records. 

In  fact,  the  tranquillity  of  the  order,  the  regularity 
of  all  its  movements,  the  ease  and  quietude  v^ith  vs^hich 
it  is  regulated,  veil  from  the  many  its  hidden  strength. 

But  may  not  inaction  be  carried  too  far  ?  May  not 
quiescence  pass  into  indifference  ?  And  the  accusation  of 
being  a  slothful  servant,  who,  "buried  his  talent  in  a 
napkin,"  apply  collectively  as  well  as  singly? — to  Bodies 
and  Associations  as  well  as  to  distinct  and  isolated  indi- 
viduals ? 

Was  man  ever  designed  by  the  great  Architect  of  the 
Universe  to  be  a  passive  being  ?     Was  he  not  formed  to 


THE    TRUE    POLICY    OF    THE    ORDER.  163 

be  progressive — always  pressing  forward  in  the  pursuit 
of  knowledge,  and  earnest  in  the  discovery  and  dissemi- 
nation of  good  ?  Have  we  not  studied  the  principles  of 
our  craft  well  and  gained  some  little  insight  into  its  bene- 
ficent tendency,  when  we  are  incited  by  it  to  a  more 
grateful,  cheerful  love  of  God,  and  a  serener,  gentler 
nobler  love  of  our  fellow-creatures? 

Am  I  approaching  perilous  ground?      Then  it  behoves- 
me  to  fortify  my  position  by  the  researches  of  others. 

In  that  honest,  fearless,  and  faithful  organ  of  our  body 
—  The  Freeviasons^  Qtiarterly  JRevicw — I  read  : — 

"  We  know,  amongst  the  guides  which  have  led  on  the 
human  race  from  the  semi-barbarism  of  the  middle  ages, 
to  the  refinements  of  the  present  time,  architecture  has  a 
place ;  and  it  has  been  so  much  the  more  a  trustworthy 
guide,  because  all  its  noblest  aspirations  have  been 
devoted  to  the  service  of  Him  who  is  the  Great  Archi- 
tect of  the  Universe.  In  his  works  we  read  his  wisdom, 
his  power,  and  his  benevolence ;  in  His  temples  made  by 
men's  hands,  we  read  the  piety  and  devotion  of  souls 
which  HE  has  warmed  with  his  love,  and  enlightened 
with  HIS  fire  to  do  him  honour.  These  men  were  our 
founders.  On  us  has  fallen  the  task,  however  faintly  and 
inadequately  we  perform  it,  to  shadow  out  their  past  his- 
tory, and  never  let  us  forget  the  duty  which  we  owe  to 
their  fame  and  their  memory." 

The  end  of  Masonry  is  not  festivity.  It  has  far 
higher  and  nobler  aims.  Its  legitimate  object  is  to 
benefit  and  bless  mankind. 

May  not,  then,  the  quiet  but  wide-spread  influence  of 
the  body  be  justifiably  exerted  in  doi??g  away  with  some 
"  social  evil,  or  conferring  some  definite  social  hcnefit  ? 

Any  resuft  bordering  on,  or  connected  with,  political 
or  party  views,  the  Mason  cheerfully  foregoes. 

Any  victory  which  involves  religious  controversy,  or 
the  conflict  of  antagonistic  principles,  the  Mason  deems 
too  dearly  purchased.  But  nothing  does  he  consider 
alien  to  him  which  teaches  his  fellow-man  to  have  a 
quenchless  faith  in  a  higher  presence  than  meets  the  eye 
to  cherish  a  feeling  of  God's  existence,  not  only  arouir.d 
us,  but  in  the  very  depths  of  the  soul — to  aim  at  and 
struggle  after  faithfulness  to  principle,  fearlessness  in 
duty,  and  delight  in  the  good  and  the  true. 
11 


154  THE    TRUE    POLICY 

The  line  of  policy  humbly  suggested  is,  that  a  general 
and  individual  effort  should  be  made  to  procure — 

1.    The  abolition  of  the  legacy-duty  on  charitable  bequests. 

Nothing  but  the  exigencies  entailed  by  an  exhausting 
war  could  have  justified  the  enactment  of  an  imposition 
so  arbitrary  and  unjust  as  the  legacy-tax.  "  It  is  beneath 
the  dignity  of  a  great  state,"  was  Burke's  indignant  ex- 
clamation, "  to  stand  by  the  dying  and  vs^atch,  like  a  vul- 
ture, the  expiring  breath."  Now,  if  this  be  true  of  the 
impost  generally,  it  applies  with  tenfold  force  when  its 
operation  affects  charitable  bequests. 

It  matters  not  to  the  argument  that  legacies  for  pious 
and  benevolent  uses  occasionally  originate  in  question- 
able motives. 

"  Who  art  thou  that  judgest  another?  To  his  own  master 
he  standeth  or  fallethP'' 

The  clergy  could  say  something  on  this  head.  Their 
experience  by  the  bed  of  the  sick  and  the  dying  would 
warrant  their  drawing  some  conclusion.  But  they  wisely 
abstain.  The  Infinite  alone  can  rightly  estimate  motives! 
But  these  why  seek  to  impugn  ?  Why  attribute  to  a 
dark  and  troubled  source  that  stream  of  bounty  which, 
in  its  after-current,  will  he  so  beneficial  to  others?  A 
rich  man,  who  has  been  all  his  life  grasping  and  hard- 
hearted, is  laid  on  the  bed  of  sickness,  which  threatens 
ere  long  to  become  the  bed  of  death.  He  has  leisure  to 
think.  His  situation  is  new  to  him.  His  bodily  sufffer- 
ings  tell  upon  his  long-cherished  prejudices  and  previous 
conclusions.  They  shake  the  first,  and  modify  the  last. 
He  begins  to  understand  how  sad  their  case  must  be, 
where  poverty  and  disease  are  united.  As  a  proof  that 
his  impressions  are  altered — not  from  a  persuasion  that 
his  alms  can  unclose  for  him  the  gates  of  Heaven — he 
adds  a  codicil  to  his  will,  and  bequeaths  five  hundred 
pounds  towards  "  building  a  new  wing  to  an  over-crowd- 
ed hospital." 

That  is  the  testator'' s  avowed  aim  and  object. 

The  State  steps  in. 

The  State  says  :  "  We  don't  care  whether  or  no  a  ra- 
pidly increasing  population  renders  an  increase  of  accom- 
modation in  Hasketon  Infirmary  indispensable ;  we  are 
IDdifierent  as  to  whether  a  new  wing  be  built  or  not ;  to 
us  it  is  perfectly  immaterial  what  the  testator's  intentions 


OF    THE    ORDER.  155 

were;  we  suspect,  indeed,  that  you  will  require  the 
whole  of  the  sura  bequeathed  you  if  his  project  is  to  be 
carried  out — and  that  you  will  be  obliged  to  forego  it  if 
any  deduction  be  made,  but  tliat  is  your  affair,  not  ours ; 
the  State,  as  a  State,  knows  nothing  about  philanthropy 
— so  hand  us  over  at  once  £50  {i.  e.  ten  per  cent,  on  the 
bequest),  and  then  do  as  you  will  with  the  remainder — 
build  or  let  it  alone  !" 

Now,  unquestionably,  government  is  a  great  good,  and 
essential  to  human  happiness;  but,  may  it  not  also  be 
contended,  that  that  alone  is  government  which  represses 
injustice  and  crime,  secures  iiro^jerty  from  invasion,  and  re- 
spects the  intentions  of  the  dead?  Burke's  remark  is  bold 
and  apposite  :  "  In  doing  good  we  are  generally  cold,  and 
languid,  and  sluggish  ;  and  of  all  things  afraid  of  being 
too  much  in  the  right.  But  the  works  of  malice  and  in- 
justice are  quite  in  another  style.  They  are  finished 
with  a  bold  masterly  hand  ;  touched  as  they  are  with  the 
spirit  of  those  vehement  passions  that  call  forth  all  our 
energies  whenever  we  oppress  and  persecute," 

Take  another  case. 

A  man  has  lived  for  years  the  slave  of  passion.  His 
desires  have  been  the  governing  impulses  of  his  existence. 
In  gratifying  them  the  pleadings  of  youth,  innocence, 
helplessness,  dependence,  never  obtained  a  hearing.  The 
demon  of  lust  ruled.  The  brute  propensities  of  the  ani- 
mal were  dominant.  The  self-restraint  which  should  cha- 
racterize THE  MAN,  and  the  conviction  of  future  respon- 
sibility which  should  impress  and  awe  the  Christian, 
slept.  Life  ebbs  away.  The  wild  tumult  of  lawless 
passion  is  about  being  hushed  in  the  grave.  Remorse- 
stricken  at  the  past;  conscious  of  the  wretched  purposes 
to  which  existence  has  been  devoted  ;  and  sensible  of  the 
misery  and  wretchedness  which  he  has  caused  in  various 
relations  of  life ;  he  resolves,  as  the  only  atonement  he 
can  make  to  society — not  a  sufficient  or  availing  one — to 
leave  the  wreck  of  his  property,  some  two  hundred 
pounds,  to  a  neighbouring  penitentiary.  He  has  ascer- 
tained it  to  be  in  difficulties,  and  he  wishes  to  free  it  wholly 
from  embarrassment. 

The  testator  dies,  and  the  will  is  proved.  In  steps 
the  legacy  comptroller. 

"I  must  trouble  you,  for  twenty  pounds  legacy  duty," 


156  THE    TRUE    POLICY 

cries  that  functionary,  "  on  the  bequest  to  Langport 
Penitentiary." 

"  But  the  benefaction,"  it  is  urged,  "  is  for  charitable 
uses." 

"Immaterial!  The  duty  due  to  the  crown  is  <£20. 
Pay  it,  or  abide  the  consequences." 

"If  we  pay  it,  the  intentions  of  the  deceased  will  be 
frustrated." 

"  We  have  nothing  to  do  here  with  intentions,''''  remarks 
the  comptroller,  "  we  have  only  to  do  with  acts." 

"  But  listen,"  persist  the  executors ;  "  the  deceased 
party  left  to  our  penitentiary  .£200  to  release  it  from 
existing  difficulties ;  that  sum  will  do  so  effectually :  but 
the  balance,  £180 — supposing  the  legacy  to  be  paid — 
will  not." 

"Then  the  testator,"  remarks  the  comptroller,  drily, 
"  should  have  remembered  his  duty  to  the  crown,  and 
have  left  his  legacy  duty  free.'' ^ 

"  But  he  left  the  institution  all  he  had,''''  exclaim  the 
executors,  in  a  breath. 

"  Then  he  should  have  been  thrifty,  and  amassed 
more,"  is  the  comptroller's  quiet  rejoinder;  "however, 
my  business  is  to  receive  money,  not  to  exhaust  the 
morning  in  argument.     Do  you  pay,  or  do  you  not  pay?" 

Take  another  case. 

A  destitute  orphan  boy  receives  his  education  in  one  of 
our  national  charities — charities  which  are  speaking 
monuments  of  the  piety,  beneficence,  and  disinterested- 
ness of  our  forefathers.  His  orderly  conduct  attracts 
iattention ;  and  at  a  proper  age  he  is  bound  apprentice 
by  the  governors.  The  habits  of  industry  and  activity 
which  had  distinguished  his  early  life  cleave  to  him  in 
manhood,  and  bear,  with  God's  blessing,  abundant  fruit. 
The  Great  Supreme  smiles  upon  his  honesty  and  assi- 
duity ;  and  in  the  evening  of  life,  leisure  and  independ- 
ence await  him.  In  making  a  final  disposition  of  his 
property,  the  recollection  of  his  early  struggles  and  early 
obligations  recurs. 

"  I  will  not  leave  this  world  " — thus  he  reasons — 
"  without  testifying,  in  a  tangible  form,  my  gratitude  to 
that  noble  institution  which  nurtured  me  when  I  was  a 
poor  boy — educated  me,  and  started  me  in  life.  Others 
equally  necessitous  will  rise  up  after  me.     The  charity 


OF    THE    ORDER.  ISl' 

shall  have  the  residue  of  my  property.  It  will  amount  to 
some  £250,  and  thus  enable  the  governors  to  repeat 
towards  some  other  poor  orphan  the  merciful  and  con- 
siderate part  they  displayed  towards  me." 

Thus  the  thoughtful  man  ruminates;  and  thus  the 
grateful  man  acts.  Life's  fitful  scene  ere  long  closes. 
The  necessary  forms  are  gone  through.  On  investigation, 
the  residuary  bequest  foils  short  of  what  was  anticipated; 
and  the  executors'  chagrin  at  the  result  is  not  lessened  by 
a  prompt  demand  from  the  legacy-office  people  : 

"  Ten  per  cent.,  gentlemen,  ten  per  cent.,  without 
delay,  on  the  residuary  estate!" 

It  is  submitted,  somewhat  hopelessly,  that  this  bequest 
"originated  in  the  deceased's  gratitude  to  the  charity 
which  had  rescued  him  from  ignorance  and  want ;  and 
was  intended  to  benefit  some  other  being  similarly 
situated." 

"That  we  have  nothing  to  do  with  t  ten  per  cent,  is 
our  claim  and  right  upon  the  residue,  which  you  have 
sworn  to  be  under  £120." 

"  True  :  but  gratitude  " 

"  Fiddlestick's  end  about  gratitude  !  "We've  nothing 
to  do  with  that  here  :  pay  your  percentage  upon  the 
residue,  and  bid  us  good  morning  as  soon  as  you  please." 

"  But  this  bequest  is  to  benefit  a  charitable  institution 
of  admitted  excellence" 

"  All  moonshine !  Language  fit  for  a  minor  theatre  : 
not  for  the  legacy  department  of  Somerset  House:  pay 
at  once,  or  our  solicitor  shall  receive  instructions." 

A  cheque  is  given,  and  the  executors  withdraw. 

But  it  is  a  wretched  system  !  The  enactment  itself  is 
unjust:  its  operation  most  injurious. 

1.  Its  obvious  tendency  is  to  defeat  the  intentions  of 
the  testator. 

2.  It  injures  those — the  widow,  the  orphan,  the 
afflicted,  and  the  sorrow-stricken — beings  whom  a  govern- 
ment is  bound  specially  to  protect. 

3.  It  inflicts  injury  upon  a  class  which  cannot  complain 
— the  helpless  and  dependent. 

4.  It  obstructs  the  flow  of  Christian  benevolence. 

5.  It  contravenes,  in  its  operation,  the  solemn  warning 
of  The  Most  Hi&h: — "  iZe  thai  opprcsseth  the  poor,  re- 
•proacheth  his  Maker. ''^ 


158  THE    TRUE    POLICY 

Masons!  against  such  a  rampart  of  robbery  and  injus- 
tice fling  the  first  stone.  In  your  iiidividual  capacity 
declare  against  it.  A  miglity  energy  is  yours.  In  the 
saored  cause  of  charity  be  not  slow  to  exert  it! 

II.  The  cause  of  morality  might  be  materially  advanced 
if  the  influence  of  the  order  were  brought  to  bear  ujion 
the  reform  of  the  law  with  reference  to  adultery.  Society 
suffers  under  no  greater  calamity  than  the  toleration  of 
this  monster  evil,  and  the  reparation  which  the  law  at 
present  awards.  The  wealthy  roue  triumphs!  What 
to  him  is  a  verdict  amercing  him  in  damages  to  the  extent 
of  five  hundred  or  a  thousand  guineas '?  He  tenders,  with 
a  sneer,  a  cheque  on  his  banker. 

He  has  gained  his  object.  He  has  gratified  his  passions. 
He  has  ruined  the  peace  of  an  entire  family.  He  has 
dishonoured  a  hitherto  spotless  line.  He  has  rendered 
some  youthful  and  innocent  beings  motherless.  The 
sons  can  never  hear  again  their  mother's  name  without 
the  flush  of  shame.  The  daughters  must  shun  her  as  a 
tainted  and  polluted  being.  He  has  degraded  the  one 
and  blasted  the  fair  prospects  of  the  other.  And  the 
penalty  is  paid  by  the  wrong-doer  in — money!  ! 

He  returns  in  triumph  to  his  fellows.  He  has  gained 
an  enviable  notoriety.  He  is  a  man  of  bonnes  fortunes. 
His  name  is  up  in  the  annals  of  crim.  con.  His  associates 
pronounce  him  "  a  fine,  daring,  dashing,  fellow  :  only 
rather  wildP^ 

But  his  victim — where  is  she  ?  What  epithet  is  applied  to 
her  ? 

Now,  let  money  be  no  longer  omnipotent  in  wrongs  of 
this  description.  It  can  do  a  great  deal.  But  let  it  cease 
to  gild  infatny.  Let  the  adulterer  pay  the  penalty  of  his 
crime  in  person.  Let  his  punishment  be  imprisonrneiit 
and  hard  labour!  In  a  flagrant  and  aggravated  case, 
where  no  common  arts  have  been  used,  and  no  common 
stratagems  exerted,  let  a  visit  to  a  penal  settlement  for 
some  five  or  seven  years  reward  the  scheming  of  the  law- 
less voluptuary.  Let  this  be  done,  and  our  public  records 
would  be  less  frequently  crowded  with  details  of  infamy. 
The  experiment  may  seem  severe  ;  but  its  results  would 
be  salutaiy.  It  would  soon  be  proved  that  the  wealthy 
seducer,  if  he  had  no  regaid  for  the  peace  and  comfort  of 
others,  had  a  most  tender  care  for  his  own ! 


OF    THE    ORDER.  159 

Eut,  at  present,  money  is  to  atone  for  crime !  It  is 
tendered  as  an  equivalent  for  infamy! 

Such  a  system  is  an  insult  to  the  right-thinking  and 
the  virtuous.  The  time  for  its  fall,  I  trust,  is  coming. 
It  cannot  fall  too  soon.  It  has  long  enough  v^arred  with 
the  behests  of  the  Most  High  and  the  plainest  dictates  of 
reason.  It  has  long  enough  mocked  the  holiest  feelings 
of  our  nature.  It  has  long  enough  caused  the  pure- 
minded  and  the  gentle-hearted  to  sigh.  It  has  long 
enough  shielded  the  selfish  voluptuary  and  w^rung  v^ith 
agony  the  heart  of  the  deserted  and  the  betrayed.  Let 
its  end  come.     It  cannot  come  too  soon. 

III.  Another  point  on  which  the  influence  of  the  order 
might  be  safely  exerted  is-^the  health  of  the  working 
classes. 

The  rage  for  adding  field  to  field  and  house  to  house 
has  miserably  curtailed  the  personal  freedom  of  the  poor. 
Where  are  the  open  spaces  in  which,  aforetime,  the  saucy 
school-boy  used  to  fly  his  kite  ;  and  the  rollicking  appren- 
tice to  urge  on  his  resounding  game  of  football ;  and  the 
town  bachelors  to  pitch  their  wickets  for  a  cricket-match ; 
and  the  wearied  artisan  to  pace  slowly  round  in  the  glo- 
rious tv^ilight  of  a  summer's  eve,  and  forget  the  while  the 
hard  words,  and  cares,  and  strife,  of  the  closing  day  ? 

Bought ;  parcelled  out ;  built  upon  ;  gone ! 

The  village  green  ;  and  the  bit  of  breezy  common  ;  and 
the  three-cornered  town  meadow;  and  the  'prentice-jaoy's 
pasture — have  disappeared. 

Speculators  have  made  advantageous  bids  for  them. 
Trustees  and  feoffees  have  most  disinterestedly  conveyed 
them.  To  the  working  man  they  exist  no  longer.  Who 
is  the  sufferer?     He. 

To  the  open  spaces,  which  were  always  few  and  far 
between,  the  poor,  after  their  day's  toil,  cannot  7201^;  resort. 
None  are  to  he  found.  In  cities  where  wealth  is  in  the 
ascendant  the  project  is  to  banish  poverty  from  view. 
When  affluence  usurps  the  surface,  penury  is  compelled 
to  burrow  in  the  earth.  Space  is  too  costly  a  luxury. 
Square  feet  are  sold  for  guineas.  In  alleys,  or  cellars,  or 
squalid  holes,  where  miserable  wretches  breed  and  cling 
together  like  bats  in  unfrequented  vaults,  there  tlie  leaven 
of  sickness  and  contagion  never  ceases  to  work.     From 


160  THE    TRUE    POLICY 

such  places  the  artisan  turns  out  for  better  air.  TlHwre 
is  he  permitted  to  seek  it  ? 

Is  it  alien,  then,  to  the  Mason's  creed,  or  is  it  out  of 
keeping  with  that  benevolence  which  should  mark  his 
practice,  that  he  use  every  legitimate  means,  through  his 
representative,  to  obtain  this  boon  from  government  for 
the  poorer  classes — that  in  every  town  where  the  popu- 
lation amounts  to  10,000  and  upwards,  a  proportionate 
space  shall  be  set  apart  and  preserved,  where,  after  the 
toil  of  the  day  is  over,  the  artisan  may  stretch  his  cramped 
and  aching  limbs  ;  breathe  the  fresh  air  of  heaven  ;  enjoy 
unrestrained  exercise ;  and  brace  himself  in  that  atmo- 
sphere which  God  has  so  lavishly  provided — which  is  the 
first  and  last  food  of  man — and  which  it  is  the  bounden 
duty  of  every  constitutional  government  to  preserve,  free 
and  uncontaminated,  for  the  labourer  and  the  toil-worn? 

It  is  the  true  policy  of  the  order— 

IV.  To  procure  sohie  recognition  of  the  claims  oj  the  indus- 
trious and  deserving  poor. 

In  the  poor-law  as  at  present  administered — a  law,  be 
it  observed,  which  is  a  disgrace  to  us  as  men  and  a  reproach 
to  us  as  Christians — no  distinction  is  made  between  the 
vicious  and  the  deserving.  Previous  good  character  is 
of  no  avail  within  the  walls  of  a  union  work-house.  The 
man  who  has  been  brought  there  by  his  own  misconduct, 
by  dissolute  courses,  by  intemperance,  or  by  idleness,  is 
put  side  by  side  with  the  man  whom  sickness,  or  an 
unforeseen  accident,  or  unavoidable  misfortune  has  re- 
duced to  penury.  They  fare  alike;  are  coerced  alike; 
are  imprisoned  alike-.  With  the  female  inmate  the  same 
wretched  regulation  obtains.  The  beldame  who,  soured 
by  want  of  her  daily  stimulus,  gin — stung  by  recollections 
of  the  past — and  without  hope  to  gild  the  future,  sits 
and  curses  by  the  half-hour  together,  has  for  her  com- 
panion, and  most  unwilling  auditor,  an  aged,  desolate, 
faded  being — ^one  who  has  known  better  days ;  been 
decently  brought  up  ;  who  remembers  the  lessons  of  her 
childhood  and  can  recall  the  promises  of  her  God  ;  and 
who  in  the  very  depths  and  degradation  of  her  poverty 
looks  hopefully  to  the  future,  and  is  aiming  at  a  better 
and  brighter  world.     Does  she  deserve  such  an  associate? 

The  Book  of  Life  tells  us  that  the  poor  are  left  to  us 
as  especial  charges  by  a  wise  and.  bounteous  Providence 


OF    THE    ORDER.  161 

— that  to  forget  the  poor  is  to  disobey  the  command  of 
The  Most  High,  and  to  forfeit  all  hope  of  his  mercy. 

The  Great  Supreme  says: — 

"For  the  poor  shall  never  cease  out  of  the  land  :  there- 
fore I  do  conjmand  thee,  saying,  thou  shalt  open  thine  hand 
WIDE  unto  thy  brother,  to  thy  poor,  and  to  thy  needy  in 
thy  land." 

But  man  says,  "Poverty  is  criminal,  and  is  to  be  treated 
accordingly." 

The  fact  cannot  be  denied.  Look  at  the  institutions 
we  have  raised,  not  so  much  to  mitigate  its  pains  as  "  to 
put  it  down"  altogether.  Look  at  the  buildings  in  which 
it  is  housed.  Look  at  the  food  with  which  it  is  kept 
alive.  Look  at  the  officials  by  whom  it  is  surrounded. 
Observe  the  sternness  with  which  its  pleadings  are 
silenced;  and  the  frightful  disclosures  which — as  in  the 
Andover  case — are  from  time  to  time  made,  of  its  disci- 
pline and  severities.  Woe  to  us  as  a  nation  if  we  be 
content  to  rest  our  claims  to  godliness  upon  the  fact  of 
our  tenderness  to  poverty  ! 

Observe,  too,  how  parties  in  authority  deal  with  desti- 
tution and  suffering. 

I  select  the  following  from  a  collection  of  about  five 
hundred  similar  scenes. 

Arranged  consecutively  and  published  they  would  form 
a  sad  but  very  startling  record. 

Attempted  Suicide. 

"A  pour  young  woman,  a  widow,  dressed  in  deep 
mourning,  appeai'ed  before  the  court,  when  Mr.  M'Manus 
stated  that  she  had  taken  a  quantity  of  opium,  and  had 
also  given  some  to  one  of  her  children,  of  whom  she  had 
four,  the  eldest  being  but  seven  years  old.  It  seems  that 
a  Mr.  M.  had  taken  out  an  execution  against  the  poor 
woman's  goods,  for  a  debt  of  between  £3  and  ,£4  owing 
by  her  late  husband,  and  that  the  circumstance  preyed 
so  upon  her  spirits,  that  she  was  induced  to  attempt  self- 
destruction  in  consequence.  Mr.  Moxon  said  that  the 
governors  and  guardians  of  the  work-house  had  oftered  to 
redeem  her  things,  but  as  they  had  been  removed  to  Mr. 
Waites's,  by  a  Mr.  Groves,  who  had  possession  of  them, 
time  had  not  been  allowed  for  their  restoration.  Sir 
William  Lowthorp  lectured.'  the  poor  creature^  on  the  enor- 
mity of  the  crime  she  had  attempted.^  and  advised  her  being 


162  THE    TRUE    POLICY 

taken  f 07-  some  time  into  the  worJc^house,  until   her  mind 

SHOULD    BE    MORE    COMPOSED!!" 

The  editor's  comment  on  the  scene  is  apt,  judicious, 
and  humane.  He  says:  "  The  best  way  to  administer  to 
such  a  .'  mind  diseased '  would  be  for  ISir  William  Low- 
thorp,  and  other  rich  men,  to  raise  a  subscription  for  a 
poor,  distracted  creature  like  the  above,  and  assist  her 
at  Jiome.  Putting  her  and  her  four  children  into  the 
work-house  is  far  more  likely  to  confirm  incipient  mad- 
ness than  to  cure  it." — Police  Report,  Hull  Packet, 
August  27,  1S41. 

What  remedy,  then,  is  suggested? 

What  is  really  meant  by  a  national  recognition  of  the 
claims  of  the  industrious  and  deserving  poor? 

Let  an  experiment  be  tried.  In  the  first  instance  on 
a  very  limited  scale.  Let  reward  and  relief  go  together. 
Let  alms-houses  be  built  in  some  half-dozen  counties  for 
the  reception  of  the  disabled  and  meritorious  poor.  Let 
them  be  occupied  by  those  who  have  borne  good  cha- 
racters ;  by  those  v^'hom  poverty  has  overtaken  in  con- 
sequence of  unavoidable  calamity ;  by  those  who  have 
struggled  to  the  very  last  with  adversity,  and  have  been 
overborne  in  the  unequal  warfare.  Let  the  state  erect 
and  maintain  these  buildings.  Let  the  nominations  to 
them  be  vested  in  the  neighbouring  clergy,  and  the  neigh- 
bouring magistracy;  and  let  the  pecuniary  allowance 
connected  with  them  be  no  starveling  jnttcmce,  but  a  sum 
on  which  life  can  reasonably  be  supported.  Let  it  at 
least  be  at  the  rate  of  four  shillings  per  week. 

"  A  pretty  expense!"  cries  some  political  economist, 
who  cherishes  as  much  affection  for  the  po^ir  as  Lord 
Ripon  does  for  Mrs.  Newton.  "  What !  burden  the 
country  after  this  fashion!  x\  likely  matter,  truly  !  A 
tolerably  heavy  item  you  will  add  to  the  national  ex- 
penditure !" 

I  reply,  "  No  :  a  very  humble  aifair — as  humble  as  the 
donkey-cart  which  the  noble  earl  tendered  for  the  use 
of  the  curate's  wife,  Mrs.  Crovvther.  But  m?/ proposition 
would  be  closed  with  while  his  lordship's  was  waived." 

Admitting,  however,  that  the  scheme  must  necessarily 
add  to  the  burdens  of  the  state,  who  shall  say  that  it  is  a 
sacrifice  which  the  country,  if  called  upon,  would  not 
cheerfully  make  ? 


OF    THE    ORDER.  163 

The  country  which  can  vote  five  thousand  pounds  for 
the  purchase  of  a  single  picture  for  the  National  Gallery  j 
the  country  which  can  vote  twenty  thousand  pounds  for 
the  repair  of  an  ugly  and  inconvenient  palace,  placed  on 
a  swampy  and  insalubrious  site — would  tliat  her  Majesty 
were,  as  her  attached  and  aiiectionate  people  wish  her  to 
be,  more  agreeably  and  more  suitably  lodged — that  coun- 
try will  never  grudge,  year  by  year,  a  grant  of  some  six- 
teen or  eighteen  thousand  pounds  as  the  commencement 
of  an  experiment  for  maintaining  and  encouraging  its  aged, 
suffering,  and  meritorious  poor. 

Call  the  scheme  Utopian  if  you  will ;  characterize  it,  if 
you  choose,  as  extravagant ;  say  that  it  can  never  be 
carried  out;  affirm  that  the  country  v^ill  never  endure 
it ;  and  that  the  class  for  which  it  was  intended  do  not 
require  it — something  must  be  done.  The  present  sys- 
tem can  never  stand.  The  existing  poor  law  is  doomed. 
After  the  Andover  revelations,  meiih  minds  were  made  vp. 
Public  opinion,  months  ago,  has  pronounced  against  it. 
It  has  been  "weighed  in  the  balance"  and  "found 
wanting." 

But  let  me  call  in  another  ally.  Let  a  poet's  voice  be 
heard.  Let  the  pleadings  of  the  Bard  of  Morwenstow,' 
in  his  "Echoes  from  Old  Cornwall,"  gain  a  ready  and  a 
willing  ear.  If,  as  I  suspect,  he  be  the  son  of  the  loved 
and  venerated  Dr.  Hawker,  once  vicar  of  Charles,  his 
sympathy  for  the  poor  and  attachment  to  their  cause  are 
hereditary.  With  no  text  in  the  Sacred  Volume  was  his 
munificent  father  better  acquainted-^— none  did  he  carry 
out  into  more  beneficial  exercise  than  this  :  "  Give  alms 
of  thy  goods,  and  never  turn  thy  face  from  any  poor  man, 
and  then  the  face  of  the  Lord  shall  not  be  turned  away 
from  thee  !" 

He  is  now  before  the  throne  !  He  views  face  to  face 
the  Great  Father!  the  unceasing  and  unwearied  bene- 
factor of  the  whole  human  race  ;  the  helper  of  the  father- 
less, and  God  of  the  widow!  "These  now  relations  of 
the  ascended  spirit  to  the  Universal  Father,  how  near ! 
how  tender!  how  strong!  how  exalting!  Oh!  shall 
our  world liness,  and  hard-hcartedness^  and  unforsaken  sins 


!•' Echoes  from  Old  Cornwall,"  by  the  Rev    R.  T.  Hawker.  M.A., 
Vicar  of  Morwenstow. 


164  THE    TRUE    POLICY 


separate  us,  by  a  gulf  which  cannot  be  passed,  from  the 
society  and  felicity  of  Heaven  ?" 


The  poor  have  hands,  and  feet,  and  eyes, 

Flesh,  and  a  feeling  mind  ; 
They  breathe  the  breath  of  mortal  sighs, 

They  are  of  human  kind ! 
They  weep  such  tears  as  others  shed, 

And  now  and  then  they  smile, 
For  sweet  to  them  is  that  poor  bread 

They  win  with  honest  toil. 

II. 

The  poor  men  have  their  wedding-day, 

And  children  climb  their  knee, 
They  have  not  many  friends,  for  they 

Are  in  such  misery. 
They  sell  their  youth,  their  skill,  their  pains. 

For  hire,  in  hill  and  glen  ; 
The  very  blood  within  their  veins 

It  flows  for  other  men ! 

III. 

They  should  have  roofs  to  call  their  own 

When  they  grow  old  and  bent, 
Meek  houses  built  of  dark,  grey  stone — 

Worn  labour's  monument ! 
There  should  they  dwell  beneath  the  thatch, 

With  threshold  calm  and  free ; 
No  stranger's  hand  should  lift  the  latch 

To  mark  their  poverty. 

IV. 

Fast  by  the  church  those  walls  should  stand  ; 

Her  aisles  in  youth  they  trod, 
They  have  no  home  in  all  the  land. 

Like  that  old  house  of  God ! 
There,  there,  the  sacrament  was  shed. 

That  gave  them  heavenly  birth, 
And  lifted  up  the  poor  man's  head 

With  princes  of  the  earth  ! 

V. 

I  know  not  why — but  when  they  tell 

Of  houses  fair  and  wide, 
Where  troops  of  poor  men  go  to  dwell 

In  chambers  side  by  side  ; 
And  when  they  vaunt,  that  in  those  walls 

They  have  their  worship-day, 
Where  the  stern  signal  coldly  calls 

The  imprison'd  poor  to  pray  ; — 


OF    THE    ORDER.  165 

I  think — 

VI. 

"  Oh !  for  the  poor  man's  church  again, 

With  one  roof  over  all, 
Where  the  true  hearts  of  free-born  men 

Might  beat  beside  the  wall ! 
The  altars,  where  iu  holier  days 

Our  fathers  were  forgiven. 
Who  went  with  meek  and  faithful  ways 

Through  the  old  aisles  to  heaven!" 

And  now,  gentle  reader,  I  have  done !  And  thus  do  I 
take  my  leave  of  thee :  "  Wherefore,  believing  soul, 
abound  in  love  !  Love  fervently  ;  love  constantly  ;  love 
eminently.  Love  Him  whose  essence  is  love,  and  in 
Him  love  his  creatures.  Love  your  kindred  ;  love  your 
enemies  ;  love  saints ;  love  angels  ;  love  strangers  ;  love 
aliens.  Be  rooted  and  grounded  in  love.  Let  all  enmity 
cease.  Let  universal  charity  prevail.  Begin  the  life  of 
heaven  which  is  everlasting  loveP' 


^POLOaY 


OEDER  OF  FREEMASONS. 

BY  M,  N..., 

A   MEMBER    OF    THE    ORDER. 

A  LA  HAYE  (FRANCE), 
1765. 


TRANSLATED    FOR    THE     "UNIVERSAL    MASONIC     LIBRAEY,"     FROM    THE 
ORIGUs'AL   FRENCH,    BY 

HENRY  W.  THORPE,  A.M. 


NEW  YORK: 

JNO.  W.  LEONAKD  &  CO.,  AMERICAN  MASONIC  AGENCY. 

1855. 


Stereotyped  by 
HOLMAK  4  GBAY,  NEW  TORE. 


Printed  and  Bound  by 

J.  F.   BBBNNAN,   LOUISVILLB,   KT. 


PREFACE  TO  THE  AMERICAN  EDITION. 


I  HAVE  selected  this  little  treatise  for  an  early  place 
in  the  Universal  Masonic  Library,  because  I  deemed  it 
an  excellent  production  in  itself — in  which  opinion  I 
have  the  concurrence  of  several  enlightened  minds ;  and 
because  its  antiquity,  foreign  origin,  and  the  peculiarly 
practical  style  in  which  sundry  objections,  ancient,  but 
even  now  urged  against  the  Masonic  Craft,  are  answered, 
give  it  high  claims  to  literary  distinction. 

This  treatise  is  numbered  9  in  the  catalogue  of  Car- 
fton's  Library.  In  the  annotated  catalogue  he  has  been 
kind  enough  to  furnish  me,  he  observes,  concerning 
it,  that  "  all  the  suspicious  charges  brought  against  the 
Institution  at  that  early  day  (1765)  are  ably  answered." 
The  original  title  in  full  (see  "Carson's  Catalogue," 
as  published  in  the  Universal  Masonic  Library  "Advo- 
cate") is :  "  Apologie  pour  I'Ordre  des  Francs-Masons. 
Par  M.  N  ^  *  *,  membre  de  I'Ordre;  avec  des  Chansons. 
Nouvelle  Edition,  augmentee  par  1' Auteur.  A  la  Haye : 
George  Gosse,  1765.  12mo.  Frontispiece,  pp.  xiv., 
126."  In  this  edition,  the  songs  and  the  frontispiece, 
being  of  but  little  merit,  are  omitted — with  these 
exceptions,  the  work  is  entire. 

I  am  gratified  to  speak  to  the  merits  of  the  transla- 
tion.    Those  who  are  familiar  with  French  must  see 


IV  PREFACE. 

that  the  translator,  Bro.  the  Prof.  Thorpe,  has  done  a 
work  here  alike  creditable  to  himself  and  honourable 
to  the  Order.  It  augurs  well  for  the  much  larger  and 
more  diSicult  tasks  he  has  in  hand  (Clavel,  Ragon,  and 
the  like),  and  will,  I  doubt  not,  be  an  assurance  to  all 
my  subscribers  that  this  portion  of  the  great  enterprise, 
like  the  other,  is  in  competent  hands. 

R.  M. 

Lodge,  Ky.  Sept.,  1855. 


DEDICATION 

TO    THE  MOST   EXCELLENT,   ILLUSTRIOUS  AND 
WORSHIPFUL  BROTHER, 

THE  CHEVALIER  DE  L**^*, 

G.  M. 

D.T.  L.L.  D.D.D.L.H.S. 

My  Lord  : 

I  take  the  liberty  of  dedicating  this  little  work  to 
Your  Excellency,  although  the  distance  of  my  residence 
has  rendered  it  impossible  for  me  first  to  ask  your  per- 
mission. My  great  affection  for  your  illustrious  person, 
your  goodness,  of  which  I  have  so  frequently  experienced 
the  effects,  and  those  honourable  ties,  which,  in  uniting 
you  to  the  Order,  have  given  to  our  Lodges  a  Chief 
as  zealous  for  the  honour  and  glory  of  our  Society  in 
general  as  ready  to  serve  all  who  have  the  happiness 
to  be  members  of  it ;  all  these  considerations  induce  me 
to  hope.  My  Lord,  that  Your  Excellency  will  accept  this 
poor  homage  on  my  part.  Were  it  less  imperfect,  I 
would  say  it  was  due  to  you. 

I  have  the  honour  to  be,  with  profound  respect, 
My  Lord, 

Your  Excellency's 

Very  humble  and  obedient  Servant, 

■^  «  *  «• 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


This  Apology  is  not  entirely  new,  although  it  has 
never  yet  been  printed,  its  author  having  shown  the 
manuscript  to  several  persons  of  his  acquaintance,  out 
of  the  Order  as  well  as  in  it.  When  it  was  written, 
the  Society  of  Freemasons  was  but  beginning  to  be 
known  in  France,  and  as  to  some  people  it  appeared 
still  more  strange  than  new,  awakening  in  their  minds 
suspicion  and  alarm,  whilst  others,  from  hostility  or 
malice,  pretended  to  foresee  a  thousand  imaginary  dan- 
gers in  the  toleration  our  Lodges  everywhere  ex- 
perienced, it  seemed  proper  to  draw  up  a  refutation 
of  such  conjectures  ;  since,  however  extravagant  they 
might  be  in  themselves,  they  might  not  be.  without  some 
influence  on  the  minds  of  those  who  are  incapable  of 
drawing  just  conclusions  for  themselves.  For  this  rea- 
son I  have  judged  it  proper  to  give  serious  answers 
to  the  suspicions  of  Atheism,  Deism,  of  indifference  in 
religious  matters,  of  evil  designs  against  governments, 
and  of  the  assassination  of  revealers  of  the  secret. 
Theit  intense  atrocity  is,  perhaps,  a  sufficient  refuta- 
tion of  these  suspicions  ;  yet  it  seemed  that  the  Frater- 
nity owed  to  the  public  some  explicit  declaration  on 
such  points.  At  the  present  day,  no  sensible  man  could 
be  found  who  would  venture  to  insist  on  such  odious 
suspicions.  The  whole  conduct  of  the  Order,  and  the 
characters  of  the  many  excellent  persons  who  are  to 
be  found  among  its  members,  are  more  than  sufficient 
to  stop  the  mouth  of  calumny.  I,  therefore,  readily 
admit,  that  the  Chapters  treating  of  these  scandalous 
charges  might  have  been  omitted  as  needless,  in  places 


VUl  ADVERTISEMENT. 

where  the  Order  is  known.  But  I  have  judged  it  better 
not  to  retrench  what  ought  to  be  comprehended  in  a 
complete  apology,  and  may  be  regarded  by  some  persons 
as  most  interesting ;  and,  moreover,  it  is  not  impossible 
that  the  Order  may  be  exposed  to  the  same  accusations, 
in  places  where  it  is  yet  not  understood,  or  to  which  it 
may  hereafter  extend.  These  considerations,  added  to 
the  advice  of  persons  on  whose  judgment  I  have  great 
reliance,  have  determined  me  to  to  submit  this  Apology 
to  the  public  as  it  was  originally  written. 


TABLE     OF    CONTENTS. 


Paqs 
Introduction 1 

First  Objection. — That  these  assembhes  may  be  du-ected  against 
reUgion  in  general ;  or,  at  least,  aim  to  establish  one  denomi- 
nation of  Christians  on  the  ruins  of  every  other       .         .         .5 

Second  Ohjection. — That  the  great  mystery  of  these  assembhes 
lays  them  open  to  the  suspicion  of  some  secret  disorder  .         .       7 

Third  Objection. — That  this  Society  may  couceal  a  party  danger- 
ous to  civil  government  .  ......       9 

Fourth  Objection. — That  the  mysterious  assembhes  of  Free- 
masons may  facilitate  to  conspirators  the  means  of  forming 
clandestine  assembhes,  under  the  pretext  that  they  belong  to 
this  Order 15 

Fifth  Objection. — That  the  preservation  of  the  secrets  is  due 
only  to  some  ridiculous  or  shameful  practice,  which  compels 
the  initiate  to  be  silent  after  he  has  undergone  the  cere- 
mony       17 

Sixth  Objection. — Drawn  from  the  misconduct  of  some  members 
of  the  Order    . 18 

Seventh  Objection. — That  Freemasons,  recognized  as  such,  have 
been  known  to  speak  of  the  Order  and  its  mysteries  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  give  but  a  poor  opinion  of  them 

Eighth  Objection. — Drawn  from  our  exclusion  of  the  Fair  Sex 
without  any  exception  or  hmitation  .... 

Ninth  Objection. — That  it  is  highly  imprudent,  and  even  sinful 
to  hazard  initiation  into  an  Order,  one  of  whose  known  funda 
mental  principles  it  is  never  to  reveal  its  mysteries 

Reply  to  certain  Decisions  ventured  by  the  Inquisitive,  against 
which  we,  in  our  turn,  propound  three  Questions  or  Difficul 


ties 


19 
20 

25 

29 


First  Question. — Propounded  to  those  who  say  that  there  is  an 
oath  which  preserves  the  secret;  from  the  natural  repugnance 
of  men  to  violate  the  sanctity  of  an  oath  .        ^       .         . 


X  TABLE    OF    CONTENTS. 

Page 

Second  Question. — Propounded  to  those  who  assert  that  there  is 
no  oath,  because  the  Order  has  no  secret;  the  pretended 
mystery  being  only  a  chimera  of  the  imagination   .         .         .31 

Third  Question. — Addressed  to  those  who  say  that  if  there  is  in 
the  Order  a  mystery,  either  with  or  without  an  oath,  the  fear 
of  being  assassinated,  in  case  of  indiscretion,  restrains  all  the 
members  of  the  Order,  and  insensibly  forms  them  to  a  per- 
petual silence 35i 

Examination  of  the  Question,  How  it  has  happened  that,  while 
all  the  rehgious  of  the  world,  good  or  bad,  as  well  as  all 
parties,  have  had  their  persecutors,  the  Order  of  Fi'eemasons 
has  at  all  times  been  exempt,  at  least  with  regard  to  indivi- 
duals. Whether  this  truth  imphes  either  laxity  of  principles 
in  the  Order  in  general,  or  want  of  zeal  in  its  members  ?  .         .35 

Proof  of  the  Purity  and  Innocence  of  the  Order,  drawn  from 
the  general  silence  of  the  dying      .         .         .         .         .         .37 

Reply  to  those  who  ask  why  we  affect  such  mystery  .         .         .38 

Reply  to  the  question.  What  is  the  purpose  of  the  Order?  .     39 

Conclusion 41 


APOLOGY 


OHDER    OF    FRE;E]\J[A.80NS. 


INTRODUCTION. 

It  is  not  very  surprising  that  there  have  been  found, 
from  time  to  time,  people  of  all  classe.s,  great  and  small, 
who  have  striven  to  render  the  Order  of  Freemasons 
suspected  or  contemptible  in  the  eyes  of  the  public. 
The  impenetrable  mystery  which  is  the  peculiar  charac- 
teristic of  this  Society  has  naturally  excited  the  curiosity 
of  some,  the  envy  and  jealousy  of  others.  I  can  readily 
appreciate  the  motives  which  have  led  some  to  condemn 
it ;  I  can  easily  understand  that  very  worthy  men  may 
have  fallen  upon  this  rock,  either  because  a  secret  so 
inviolably  kept  has  alarmed  their  conscience,  as  if  there 
were  in  it  something  supernatural  or  hostile  to  religion, 
or  because  they  have  suspected  some  concealed  design 
which  might  at  a  future  day  develop  itself.  And  the 
dread  of  this  unknown  and  untried  development  ought, 
they  suppose,  to  induce  all  men  unconnected  with  the 
Order  to  keep  themselves  on  their  guard,  since  no  one 
can  foresee  from  what  side,  when,  or  upon  whom  the  blow 
may  fall. 

In  order  to  put  to  silence  the  malice  of  the  one  class 
and  to  tranquillize  the  conscience  and  probity  of  the 
other,  I  have  undertaken  this  apology  for  an  Order  to 
which  I  esteem  it  an  honour  to  belong.  I  joyfully  make 
common  cause  with  my  Brethren.  And  let  no  one 
object  that  I  am  treating  of  a  matter  known  only  to  my 
party. 

The  mystery,  I  confess,  is  known  only  to  us;  but  the 


2  APOLOGY    FOR    THE 

effects  of  the  Association  and  the  advantages  derived  from 
it  are  so  widely  spread  that  the  public  cannot  be  igno- 
rant of  them.  To  the  public,  then,  the  most  impartial 
of  judges,  I  am  about  to  submit  my  remarks:  or  rather 
t  is  before  the  tribunal  of  good  sense  and  enlightened 
unprejudiced  reason  that  I  consent,  with  all  my  heart, 
the  question  shall  be  tried;  and,  if  I  advance  anything 
that  is  contrary  to,  that  does  not  absolutely  accord  vi^ith, 
her  unvarying  rules,  I  am  willing  to  be  condemned. 

The  question  may  be  asked,  to  what  purpose  this 
apology?  Those  who  entertain  apprehension  of  your 
mysteries,  those  who  mistrust  them,  carry  their  hostility 
no  farther.  No  one  injures  you  either  in  person  or  pro- 
perty. A  few  people  fear  you,  many  despise  you,  but 
with  all  this  your  Order  exists.  What  more  would  you 
have,  since  even  where  your  lodges  are  not  authorized 
they  are  in  some  sort  tolerated,  as  is  shown  by  the  little 
care  that  is  taken  to  watch  you  ? 

I  confess  that  all  this  is  literally  true;  but  ought  we  to 
stop  here  and  rest  contented  ?  A  simple  toleration  is 
not  enough  for  us,  and  we  do  not  desire  to  conceal  our- 
selves. Either  our  object  is  bad,  useless,  and  vain,  or  it 
is  good,  just,  and  laudable.  On  the  first  supposition  we 
deserve  no  toleration,  on  the  second  we  have  a  full  right 
to  aspire  to  the  favour  of  the  public.  We  believe  that 
we  deserve  this  favour,  and  that  the  goodness  of  our  cause 
must  necessarily  procure  it  for  us. 

But  if  it  is  true  that  this  Society  has  not  been  attacked 
by  other  societies,  if  the  justice  of  governments  has 
always  deemed  it  worthy  of  protection  or  at  least  of  tol- 
eration, the  Order  notwithstanding  has  its  enemies, 
especially  where  it  is  most  extended.  And  although 
those  who  seek  to  vilify  the  Order  or  to  render  it  sus- 
pected can  rest  their  vain  accusations  only  on  false  sup- 
positions, the  religious  secrecy  observed  in  the  Order 
preventing  their  drawing  their  arguments  against  the 
Order  and  its  fundamental  rules  from  itself,  yet  they  fail 
not  to  insist  on  their  various  charges  with  as  much  assur- 
ance as  if  they  were  really  well  founded.  They  vary 
their  accusations  for  the  very  reason  that  they  know  not 
on  what  to  place  them.  At  one  time  our  assemblies  are 
so  many  scenes  of  the  most  criminal  prostitution;  those 
who  say  that  we  meet  simply  to  divert  ourselves  profess 


ORDER    OF    FREEMASONS.  & 

to  be  peculiarly  merciM  to  us.  Some  go  so  far  as  to 
suspect  that  religion  will  in  the  end  suffer,  and  states  be 
unsettled  by  us.  These  are  the  grave  and  serious  charges 
that  tend  to  make  us  feared  and  hated.  Others  seek  to 
bring  contempt  on  the  whole  Fraternity.  The  pretended 
secret,  they  say,  is  nothing ;  it  is  some  indecency ;  some 
debasing  ceremony  to  be  endured  by  the  new  comers, 
which  the  others  have  passed  through  before  them. 
This  it  is  which  makes  the  pretended  secret  secure. 
Some  are  restrained  by  false  shame,  others  by  a  sort  of 
fanaticism  for  the  Order.  The  secret  has  never  yet  been 
revealed :  what  a  shame  it  would  be  for  me  to  lead  the 
way  !  And  then,  it  is  added,  who  knows  if  assassination 
would  not  be  employed  to  arrest  or  to  punish  the  indis- 
cretion or  treachery  of  a  Brother  ? 

I  know  that  a  great  number  of  excellent  men  in  all 
conditions  of  life  keep  silent  lest  they  should  judge  too 
hastily.  These  persons  wisely  observe  a  middle  course. 
They  cannot  resolve  to  approve  absolutely  an  Institution 
based  upon  secrets  to  them  unknown.  This  scruple 
prevents  their  seeking  to  become  members  of  the  Order, 
for  which  they,  nevertheless,  entertain  a  certain  good  will, 
because  they  remark  among  its  members  many  men  dis- 
tinguished for  their  rank  or  their  piety.  Their  modesty 
and  discretion  well  merit  an  apology  for  the  Order  in 
their  behalf;  we  hope  they  will  be  satisfied  with  it;  and 
that,  although  they  can  become  acquainted  with  our 
secrets  by  initiation  alone,  at  least  all  their  scruples 
will  be  removed. 

The  common  people  also  merit  some  attention.  Not 
worse  disposed  than  other  men,  but  more  easily  excited; 
more  generally  deficient  in  the  light  of  education,  conse- 
quently more  readily  imposed  on,  and  prone  to  adopt 
opinions  without  any  other  motive  than  a  blind  preju- 
dice. Sometimes,  also,  they  act  from  the  insinuations  of 
more  enlightened  men,  which  reasons,  drawn  from  malice, 
envy,  false  policy,  or  more  frequently  idleness,  indirectly 
furnish  to  them.  It  is,  then,  no  more  than  justice  to  do 
something  also  in  their  behalf.  Charity  requires  this. 
They  form  a  part,  nay,  the  largest  part  of  mankind,  and 
since  the  many  worthy  men  that  are  among  them  are  by 
no  means  refused  admission  to  our  body,  since  as  men, 
reasonable  men,  they  have  a  right  to  admission,  why 


i  APOLOGY    FOR    THE 

shoual  we  not  have  regard  to  them  in  this  matter  as  well 
as  to  others  ? 

Besides,  do  we  not  find  many,  even  among  those  who 
have  enjoyed  the  greatest  advantages  of  education,  suffer- 
ing themselves  to  be  drawn  along  in  the  wake  of  popular 
opinion  without  the  least  examination?  In  this  respect 
many  a  man  is  of  the  populace  without  in  the  least  sus- 
pecting it,  and  in  this  case  in  instructing  the  one  we  shall 
at  the  same  time  restore  the  other. 

Finally,  some  persons  endeavour  to  make  one  half  of 
the  human  race,  and  that  the  most  amiable  half,  hostile 
to  us — the  sex  which  merits  not  only  our  attention  and 
respect,  but  all  our  admiration  and  our  love.  The  pre- 
text employed  is  specious.  What  contempt,  they  say, 
what  injustice  to  the  fair  sex  !  Ladies  are  excluded  from 
the  Order,  and  so  excluded  as  to  leave  them  no  hope  of 
entrance.  The  secret  is  to  be  kept  for  ever  impenetrable 
to  them.  The  humblest  among  men  has  at  least  some 
hope  for  himself,  whilst  the  most  elevated  station,  the 
most  distinguished  merit,  cannot  obtain  the  admission  of 
a  woman!  What  judgment  do  Masons  form  of  the  char- 
acter of  ladies?  Do  they  think  them  absolutely  un- 
worthy of  being  entrusted  with  a  secret?  Does  not 
experience  every  day  contradict  so  dishonourable  a  no- 
tion? As  this  reproach  appears  at  first  sight  to  have 
some  foundation,  since  it  is  true  that,  according  to  our 
principles,  ladies  cannot  be  admitted  to  the  Order,  the 
respect  that  is  due  to  them,  the  veneration  we  entertain 
for  them,  demand  that  we  should  explain  to  them  the 
I'easons  for  a  course  which  appears,  at  first,  so  extraor- 
dinary, and  of  which  they  seem  to  have  a  right  to  com- 
plain. This  we  engage  to  do ;  and  we  trust  they  will 
be  the  more  easily  satisfied  with  our  reasons,  since  their 
exclusion  is  partly  the  consequence  of  their  condition, 
of  the  empire  they  have  yielded  to  men,  and  which  men 
have  too  often  abused.  These  are  some  of  the  motives 
which  have  induced  me  to  undertake  this  apology.  I 
shall  now  enter  on  the  work,  and  reply  article  by  article 
to  every  objection  that  has  been  raised  either  to  the 
Order  itself,  or  to  the  consequences  which  result  from 
its  principles. 


ORDER    OF    FREEMASONS.  9 

FIRST  OBJECTION. 

That  these  AssemUies  may  he  directed  against  Religion  in 
general;  or  at  least  may  aim  to  establish  one  denomination 
of  Christians,  on  the  ruins  of  every  other. 

This  first  objection  appears  to  comprehend  two  distinct 
and  separate  points;  but  as  most  of  the  arguments  will 
apply  equally  to  both,  I  have  judged  that  it  would  be 
useless  to  divide  them  :  they  may  be  both  answered  at 
once,  without  affecting  the  clearness  of  the  reasoning. 

I.  We  carefully  avoid  admitting  into  the  Order  an 
Atheist  or  a  Deist,  as  far  as  it  is  possible  to  detect  in  a 
candidate  any  such  opinions,  or  to  observe  in  his  conduct 
any  appearance  that  he  is  imbued  with  such  principles. 
As,  for  example,  when  a  man  has  for  several  years  neg- 
lected public  worship  according  to  the  rites  and  cere- 
monies of  the  communion  in  which  he  was  baptized. 
Failings  of  this  nature  would  be  more  than  sufficient 
to  prevent  admission  to  the  Order,  with  what  good 
qualities  soever  a  man  might  otherwise  be  endowed. 

II.  The  Order  admits  Christians  only.  Beyond  the 
pale  of  the  Christian  Church  no  one  can  or  ought  to  be 
received ;  Jews,  Mohammedans,  and  Pagans  are  ordinari- 
ly excluded  as  infidels. 

These  two  remarks  would  be  more  than  sufficient  to 
prove  to  a  demonstration  that  the  Order,  so  far  from 
being  hostile  to  religion  in  general,  or  the  Christian 
religion  in  particular,  draws  a  part  of  its  honour  from 
the  fact  that  it  admits  to  its  bosom  Christianity  only. 
By  this  course  it  shows  that  the  fundamental  principles 
of  the  Order  flow  from  the  profession  of  Christianity. 

But  the  reply  to  the  second  point  of  the  first  objec- 
tion will  furnish  still  farther  proofs. 

III.  All  Christian  communions  have  equal  rights  in 
the  Order,  and  are  admitted  without  any  distinction : 
this  is  a  well-established  truth,  supported  by  our  con- 
stant practice,  and  no  one  will  deny  it.  This  point 
being  established,  how  can  any  one  imagine  that  one  of 
these  Christian  societies  can  entertain  the  secret  design 
of  establishing  itself  upon  the  ruins  of  the  other.  It 
would  be  necessary  to  suppose  the  secret  known  only  to 
the  members  of  the  one  communion,  and  this  would  be 
an  absolute  impossibility. 


6  APOLOGY    FOR    THE 

For,  how  many  people,  passing  from  one  communion 
to  another,  would  carry  this  dangerous  secret  with  them? 
How  many  are  there  to  whom  all  communions  are 
equally  indifferent?  Add  to  this  the  danger  of  being 
involved  in  a  party  which  must  one  day  fall  under  the 
attack  of  all  other  communions,  justly  combined  against 
it.  Here  is  far  more  than  would  be  required  to  bury  the 
whole  Order  under  the  ruins  of  its  mysteries. 

If,  then,  there  is  no  reserved  secret — if  the  whole  Order 
without  exception  participates  in  the  same  mysteries,  as 
must  necessarily  be  the  case,  have  I  not  a  right  to  con- 
clude that  it  is  likewise  impossible  that  one  Christian 
communion  should  pretend,  under  shelter  of  this  Order, 
to  raise  itself  at  the  expense  of  all  the  others  ?  Would 
not  the  members  of  different  communions  perpetually 
thwart  each  other  in  so  senseless  a  project  ?  and  would 
they  not  be  so  many  spies  upon  each  other  in  every  step 
that  should  be  taken  ? 

IV.  This  argument  gains  additional  strength  from  the 
following  observation,  which  is  directed  against  the  pre- 
tended irreligion  of  the  Order  : — That  we  constantly  find 
that  men,  after  their  initiation  into  the  Order,  remain  as 
zealous  supporters  of  Christiaiaity  as  they  were  before, 
and  just  as  strongly  attached  to  the  peculiar  dogmas  and 
modes  of  worship  of  the  communions  to  which  they 
belong.  This  truth  is  everywhere  observed,  and  no  one 
will  deny  it.  Whence  I  conclude — First,  that  religion, 
and  the  Christian  religion  only,  subsists  in  the  Order ; 
and  cannot  be  separated  from  it,  but  is  in  it  as  the  basis 
and  foundation:  and,  secondly,  that  it  is  not  possible  that 
any  one  Christian  communion  should  seek  to  extend  its 
powers  to  the  prejudice  of  the  other,  since  the  Order 
admits  to  its  mysteries  all  ■  Christian  communions  indif- 
ferently. 

How,  then,  can  a  Society,  which  cannot  and  will  not 
exist  separate  from  religion  in  general,  and  above  all 
from  the  Christian  religion  in  particular,  tend  to  its  sub- 
version ? 

Or  how  can  a  Society,  which  admits  into  its  bosom  all 
Christian  communions  without  distinction,  have  for  its 
object  to  establish  one  of  these  communions  on  the  ruins 
of  one  or  all  of  the  others  ? 


ORDER    OF    FREEMASONS. 


SECOND  OBJECTION. 


That  the  great  mystery  of  these  Assemblies  lays  them  (ypen  to 
the  suspicion  of  some  secret  disorder. 

What  I  have  just  said,  to  demonstrate  how  much  reli- 
gion is  venerated  and  respected  in  the  Order,  might  be  a 
sufficient  answer  to  this  second  objection.  For  if  reli- 
gion is  not  only  admitted  into  the  Order,  but  is  judged 
worthy  of  the  same  veneration  as  the  Supreme  Being  who 
is  the  author  of  it,  does  it  not  plainly  follow  that 
nothing  can  take  place  in  our  Assemblies  that  is  in  the 
slightest  degree  opposed  to  the  strictest  laws  of  Christi- 
anity ? 

We,  therefore,  reply  to  this  second  objection  only  from 
the  charity  due  to  those  who  are  in  error  with  regard  to 
a  fact  on  which  we  have  it  in  our  power  to  enlighten 
them,  and  from  a  sort  of  cumulation  of  evidence ;  and, 
because,  as  there  are  always  some  men  evil  disposed,  we 
are  willing  to  drive  these  to  their  last  entrenchments. 

And  here  I  premise  that,  if  I  sometimes  avail  myself 
of  the  support  of  religion  to  draw  inferences  in  favour  of 
Freemasonry,  I  do  this  always  without  pi'ctending  to  put 
the  one  on  a  level  with  the  other.  We  acknowledge  and 
adopt  with  all  our  heart  the  proposition,  tliat  religion  is 
the  most  ancient,  the  most  necessai-y,  and  the  most 
sacred  of  all  institutions ;  and  that  to  her  alone  we 
ought  to  give  the  first  rank,  because  she  derives  her 
origin  immediately  fi'om  God,  the  Maker  of  all  things. 

I.  Every  one  knows  that  the  religious  assemblies  of 
the  first  Christians,  notwithstanding  their  purity  and 
innocence,  did  not  escape  the  odious  accusations  of  the 
Pagans,  sworn  enemies  of  their  faith  and  worship.  The 
violence  and  cruelty  of  their  persecutors  obliged  the 
faithful  of  those  times  to  hold  their  assemblies  at  night, 
and  in  the  most  retired  places,  often  in  caves  of  the 
earth ;  and  the  very  tyranny  Vvhich  forced  them  to  this 
secrecy  was  the  first  basely  to  reproach  them  with  the 
false  consequences  of  the  precaution  ;  and  the  people, 
without  examining  into  the  causes,  blindly  adopted  the 
ideas  with  which  interested  men  sought  to  inspire  them, 
to  increase  their  hostility  both  to  the  religion  and  to 
2 


8  APOLOGY    FOR    THE 

those  who  professed  it.     Bat  at  length  a  time  arrived 
when  the  innocence  of  the  believers  triumphed. 

If  a  religion  so  pure  was  attacked  with  such  cruel 
calumnies,  is  it  to  be  wondered  at  that  Freemasonry  has 
not  escaped?  which,  although  possessing  secrets  impene- 
trable to  the  uninitiated,  has  never  laid  the  slightest 
claim  to  inspiration  or  infallibility  ? 

That  the  places  where  the  Lodges  meet  are  unknown 
to  strangers,  when  the  assemblies  are  not  authorized  by 
an  express  permission  from  the  sovereign  ;  when  they 
are  at  best  only  tolerated ;  or  that,  in  countries  where 
they  are  permitted  to  meet  publicly,  they  always  sit 
with  closed  doors,  are  precautions  from  which  it  would 
be  extremely  unjust  to  draw  invidious  consequences; 
since,  in  the  former  case,  respect  for  the  sovereign  would 
dictate  a  prudent  use  of  the  toleration  he  has  granted ; 
and,  in  the  second  place,  it  is  very  natural  that  the  meet- 
ings should  be  held  with  closed  doors,  since  secrecy  is 
one  of  the  most  essential  points  of  the  Order. 

It  is  unjust,  then,  to  reproach  Freemasons  for  their 
secret  assemblies  and  their  closed  doors;  for  to  change 
this  practice  would  be  to  reveal  the  mysteries  of  the 
Society. 

II.  I  go  still  farther :  I  will  suppose  for  a  moment  that 
good  and  honourable  men  may  have  been  entrapped 
among  others,  because,  before  their  initiation,  they  had 
not  foreseen  the  disorders  that  are  practised  in  these 
iniquitous  assemblies ;  and  that  afterwards  they  had  it 
not  in  their  power  to  retrace  their  steps,  having  been 
constrained  either  by  persuasion,  or  by  violence,  or  by 
both  united,  to  complete  the  ceremonies,  so  that  when 
the  fault  was  once  commenced,  it  became  absolutely 
necessary  to  carry  it  through. 

But  how  is  it  that  these  persons  of  acknowledged 
probity  and  sincerely  religious  character,  after  having 
been  thus  cruelly  deceived,  are  observed  to  embrace  the 
interests  of  the  Order  with  such  earnest  zeal  ?  would 
not  their  conscience  for  ever  reproach  them  with  the 
fault  they  had  committed?  and  would  not  a  just  indig- 
nation against  societies  so  opposed  to  piety  and  sound 
morality  induce  them  to  abjure,  at  least  in  their  hearts, 
such  assemblies,  and  to  absent  themselves  for  ever  from 
scenes  of  such  licentiousness,  even  on  the  supposition 


ORDER    OF    FREEMASONS.  y 

that  the  engagements  they  had  entered  into  rendered 
it  impossible  for  them  to  make  the  secret  known?  It 
would  be  mere  chicanery  to  argue  that  the  same  neces- 
sity which  forced  them  to  complete  the  work  of  their 
reception  might  engage  them,  by  the  most  solemn  oaths, 
to  visit,  at  least  at  times,  the  assemblies  of  the  Order, 
how  great  soever  their  natural  repugnance  to  them. 

Every  one  will  at  once  perceive  the  weakness  of  such 
an  objection.  Every  Christian  understands  that  an  oath 
which  binds  him  to  commit  a  crime,  even  if  taken  volun- 
tarily and  without  constraint,  is  of  itself  absolutely  null 
and  void:  that  it  would  be  a  greater  crime  to  keep  such 
an  oath  than  to  have  originally  pronounced  it.  Still 
more  forcibly  would  he  feel  the  indispensable  necessity  of 
revoking  such  an  oath  if  it  had  been  imposed  on  him  by 
fraud  or  violence. 

THIRD  OBJECTION. 

That  this  Society  may  conceal  a  party  dangerous  to  Civil 
Government. 

I  shall  enlarge  upon  this  article  and  endeavour  to 
exhaust  it.  The  charge  is  a  grave  one.  Sovereigns  are 
the  anointed  of  the  Lord.  The  abolition  of  the  Supreme 
power,  in  whatever  form  it  may  be  exercised,  whether  by 
Kings,  Princes,  or  Lords,  or  finally,  by  Magistrates, 
clothed  with  all  authority  in  a  State,  would  overthrow 
the  order  of  civil  society,  would  introduce  disorder,  con- 
fusion and  crime,  by  the  impunity  that  would  ensue,  and 
would,  if  such  a  thing  were  possible,  destroy  even  reli- 
gion itself. 

It  is  utterly  impossible  to  suppose  in  the  Order  so  per- 
nicious a  design ;  and  to  no  other  end  than  the  sole 
pleasure  of  overturning  a  power  emanating  from  God; 
every  Sovereign  being  a  living  representative  of  the 
Supreme  Governor  of  the  Universe.  Any  one  who 
examines  into  the  conduct  of  the  Order  w^herever  it  has 
been  known,  will  be  obliged  to  confess  the  truth  of  my 
proposition. 

I.  As  England  is  the  kingdom  in  which  the  Order 
has  most  flourished  and  been  most  widely  spread,  and 
as  that  monarchy  has  been  peculiarly  sujiject  to  great 


iO  -APOLOGY    FOR    THE 

revolutions,  I  will  confine  myself  to  the  conduct  the 
Society  has  there  uniformily  observed.  This  examination 
v^ill  satisfactorily  prove  the  integrity  of  our  Order,  its 
wisdom,  and  its  entire  impartiality  in  all  that  relates  to 
the  spirit  of  party. 

In  fact,  we  nowliere  find,  either  in  history  or  tradition, 
any  circumstance  which  gives  occasion  for  the  suspicion 
that  the  Order  has  ever  been  in  the  sliglitest  degree  con- 
cerned in  any  of  the  revolutions  which  have  more  than  once 
brought  that  kingdom  to  the  very  brink  of  ruin.  An 
examination  of  the  facts  will  throw  still  more  light  on 
what  I  have  just  advanced.  I  omit  here  a  more  length- 
ened detail,  because  I  shall  soon  have  occasion  to  return 
to  the  subject. 

II.  But  how  can  the  Order  be  suspected  of  entertain- 
ing designs  hostile  to  government,  whether  monarchical^ 
republican,  or  of  whatever  form  it  may  be '?  Our  mysteries 
are  not  impenetrable  to  the  majesty  of  kings  ;  many  have 
been  initiated  into  the  Order,  to  make  no  mention  of 
great  princes,  who,  although  not  ennobled  by  the  crown 
and  sceptre,  are,  nevertheless,  in  their  respective  territo- 
ries, endowed  with  sovereign  power.  It  is  the  same  with 
magistrates  of  all  grades,  not  excepting  those  who,  at 
the  head  of  a  Republican  State,  occupy  the  place  of 
kingi.  Would  it  not  be  the  height  of  madness  to  admit 
such  persons  to  the  mysteries  of  an  Order,  the  end  and 
purpose  of  which  was  to  annihilate  their  power?  Or, 
rather,  is  it  not  a  proof  of  folly  to  believe  that  two  things 
so  incompatible  as  such  a  purpose  and  such  a  practice 
could  subsist  together  ? 

III.  Again,  it  has  been  found  that  sovereigns  and 
magistrates,  once  initiated  into  the  Order,  have  become 
its  firmest  supporters,  its  most  zealous  defenders,  its  most 
open  protectors.  Is  it  possible  to  believe  that  an  oath 
which  would  tend  to  the  abolition  of  their  authority 
could  be  so  far  binding  upon  them?  Any  one  who  would 
maintain  such  a  proposition,  would  deservedly  be  con- 
sidered to  be  out  of  his  wits. 

IV.  Some  one  may,  perhaps,  reply,  that  possibly  we 
may  not  reveal  our  true  mysteries  to  sovereigns  and 
magistrates.  That  this  is  altogether  impossible  it  will  be 
very  easy  to  demonstrate. 

1.  If  the  Order  concealed  some  mystery,  whose  object 


ORDER    OF    FREEMASONS.  11 

it  was  to  destroy  the  authority  of  the  powers  that  be,  or, 
at  least,  to  lessen  it,  it  would,  indeed,  be  very  desirable  to 
have  a  reserved  secret  carefully  hidden  from  kings, 
princes,  and  magistrates ;  and  it  would  be  still  further 
necessary  that  these  illustrious  characters,  although 
initiated  into  the  Order,  should  be  kept  in  ignorance  that 
there  was  anything  concealed  from  them  ;  and  that  they 
should  confidently  believe  that  they  were  acquainted 
with  the  whole  secret.  This  would  be  no  easy  matter ; 
but  if  we  were  to  admit  its  possibility,  we  should  thereby 
be  no  farther  advanced  ;  for, 

2.  It  would  avail  nothing  to  conceal  such  a  secret 
from  princes;  it  would  be  necessary  to  conceal  it  also 
from  the  thousands  daily  admitted  into  the  Order,  whose 
zeal  for  the  governments  under  which  they  live  admits 
of  no  doubt.  Love  for  their  princes,  the  good  of  the 
state,  the  Christian  religion,  which  teaches  us  to  be 
obedient  to  our  rulers,  and  we  may  add  to  all  this, 
their  own  interest,  all  these  motives  would  constantly 
urge  them  to  the  performance  of  their  duties  to  their 
lawful  sovereign,  and  inevitably  lead  them  to  reveal 
a  secret  which  no  oath  could  bind  them  to  keep,  since  its 
purpose  would  be  pernicious. 

3.  Finally,  suppose  this  secret  to  be  known  only  to 
the  Grand  Master,  and,  at  most,  to  some  few  members  of 
whom  he  could  be  very  sure;  and  that  it  is  transmitted 
by  each  Grand  Master  to  his  successor;  has  there  never 
been  one  man  honest  enough  to  reveal  the  secret  for  the 
sake  of  honour,  religion,  and  duty  ?  no  one  ambitious 
enough  to  denounce  the  mystery  for  the  sake  of  his  own 
aggrandizement?  nor  any  one  avaricious  enough  to  sell  it 
for  the  sake  of  the  profit  to  be  made  of  it? 

4.  But  even  suppose,  by  an  extreme  chance,  this  case 
has  not  arrived ;  we  must,  at  least,  suppose  some  certain 
time  fixed  for  the  execution  of  the  project;  for  if  the 
Order  entertains  such  views,  it  will  not  remain  for  ever 
inactive.  But  how  could  those  few  persons  whom  we 
have  supposed  alone  admitted  into  the  true  mystery,  set 
the  whole  body  in  motion  to  execute  the  most  criminal 
of  all  treasons?  And  what  would  such  a  body  of  men 
think,  having  all  along  supposed  themselves  in  a  society 
of  honest  men  and  Christians,  when  they  discovered,  not 
only  that  they  had  so  long  beesn  the  dupes  of  a  few 


12  APOLOGY    FOR    THE 

designing  men,  but  that  these  intended  to  make  them  the 
instraments  of  the  blackest  of  crimes?  He  who  can 
believe  these  things  possible  may  well  anticipate  an 
agreement  between  fire  and  w^ater. 

V;  But  mere  probabilities  are  not  enough ;  we  proceed 
to  examples.  England  is  the  country  in  which  the  Order 
s  best  known  ;  and  it  is  precisely  there  that  its  inno- 
cence, the  integrity  of  its  conduct,  and,  consequently,  of 
its  principles,  have  at  all  times  been  most  remarked.  It 
has  never  drawn  upon  itself,  in  that  country,  any  more 
than  in  any  other  in  the  world,  the  least  shadow  of 
reproach  or  even  of  suspicion,  although  its  principles 
and  its  maxims  have  been  exposed  to  the  severest  proofs; 
and  this  I  can  clearly  demonstrate.  In  the  first  place, 
with  respect  to  religion,  it  is  well  known  that  Protest- 
antism prevails  in  England,  but  subdivided  into  two 
parties,  which,  far  from  having  been  always  agreed,  for  a 
long  time  made  open  war  upon  each  other,  each  wishing 
to  be  dominant,  until,  at  length,  one  party  prevailed 
over  its  antagonist.  I  refer,  of  course,  to  the  Episcopal 
and  Presbyterian  parties.  These  contests  occasioned  the 
usurpation  of  Cromwell ;  they  cost  Charles  I.  his  life,  and 
Charles  II.,  his  son  and  successor,  very  nearly  his  throne. 
Half  a  century  has  hardly  sufficed  to  extinguish,  or  at 
least  to  smother  the  bitter  party  spirit  which  for  so  long 
a  time  racked  that  kingdom. 

The  Catholic  religion,  formerly  so  flourishing  in  Eng- 
land, has  still  its  partizans  there,  and,  although  this 
Christian  communion  is  merely  tolerated,  and  the  laws 
exclude  it  from^  all  participation  in  the  government,  the 
Catholic  party,  nevertheless,  maintains  itself  and  even 
forms  a  numerous  body.  It  comprehends  not  only  many 
of  the  middle  classes,  but  also  many  gentlemen  and  some 
noblemen  of  high  rank.  This  party,  formerly  the  master 
in  England  for  many  ages,  cannot  see  its  present  abase- 
ment, which  it  regards  as  the  eft'ect  of  a  usurpation  of 
its  rights,  without  deep  regret  and  a  strong  desire  to 
recover  the  ground  it  has  lost.  Such  a  desire  is  natural 
to  men,  as  is  also  that  of  seeing  the  religion  they  profess 
in  a  respectable  position  ;  especially  when  that  religion 
once  flourished  to  the  exclusion  of  all  others.  Accord- 
ingly, that  party  has,  from  time  to  time,  endeavoured  to 
recover,  if  not  the  whole,  at  least  some  portion  of  its 


ORDER    OF    FREEMASONS.  13 

territory ;  and  these  struggles  have  necessarily  caused 
troubles  and  divisions  in  the  island  ;  for  it  is  of  England 
that  I  am  speaking. 

This  same  kingdom  tolerates,  also,  more  or  less,  several 
different  Christian  communities,  which,  if  all  were  united 
among  themselves,  would  form  a  considerable  body.  It 
is  true  they  are  comparatively  too  weak  to  accomplish 
anything  for  themselves;  and  this,  doubtless,  has  pre- 
vented their  attempting  to  make  themselves  dominant 
in  that  country.  They  may,  however,  have  taken  in- 
terest in  the  government,  according  as  it  was  in  a  greater 
or  less  degree  favourable  to  them  ;  they  may  have  wished 
for  a  general  liberty  of  conscience,  in  order  that  they 
might  obtain  a  share  of  the  advantages  they  saw  pos- 
sessed by  the  dominant  party ;  and  this  both  for  their 
temporal  interests  and  their  own  preservation. 

Beside  these  religious  divisions,  there  is  another  source 
of  misunderstanding  in  the  English  government  —  a 
source  which  may,  from  time  to  time,  cause  disturbance 
in  the  state,  and  seems  to  arise  from  the  constitutions  of 
the  kingdom. 

Not  that  these  constitutions  are  obscure  in  themselves, 
or  that  it  is  difficult  to  give  them  suitable  interpretations, 
if  men  are  willing  to  agree  ;  but,  rather,  because  the 
government  being  limited,  and  the  people  having  a  share 
of  the  power,  which,  in  other  states,  is  centered  in  the 
person  of  the  sovereign,  it  sometimes  happens  that  the 
prince  considers  himself  injured  by  the  claims  of  the 
people ;  or,  on  the  other  hand,  that  the  people,  fearing 
their  privileges  may  be  lessened  or  extinguished,  oppose 
the  sovereign  in  points  which  they  might  and  ought  to 
have  permitted  to  pass  without  opposition ;  either  be- 
cause they  are  of  small  importance,  or  because  the 
prince  was  clearly  in  the  right.  The  nobility  take  dif- 
ferent sides,  and  the  people  follow  their  example  :  one 
party  proclaiming  itself  the  supporter  of  the  power  of 
the  sovereign ;  the  other,  the  defender  of  the  people's 
rights  :  hence  the  name  Whig  and  Tory  ;  hence  so  many 
factions  and  cabals  which  more  than  once  have  nearly 
proved  the  destruction  of  the  state. 

And  are  there  not,  at  the  present  time,  two  parties  in 
that  kingdom?  Has  not  each  its  adherents?  If  one 
seems  inconsiderable,  if  it  is  thought  to  be  crushed,  it, 


14  APOLOGY    FOR     THE 

nevertheless,  is  still  in  existence,  and  shows  itself  from 
time  to  time.  After  so  long  a  digression,  but  one  which 
it  was  hardly  possible  to  avoid,  these  are  the  inferences 
I  wish  to  draw : — 

Through  the  whole  period  of  its  existence  in  England, 
the  Order  of  Freemasons  has  received  among  its  members 
11  the  honom'able  men  who  have  presented  themselves 
from  each  of  these  different  parties  :  Catholics  and  Pro- 
testants, Episcopalians  and  Presbyterians,  Whigs  and 
Tories — all  party  divisions  being  hdd  aside. 

This  general  reception  no  one  will  deny;  or  I  should 
have  to  demand  when  any  of  these  various  parties  has 
been  known  to  complain  of  its  exclusion,  and  this  assured- 
ly could  never  be  shown. 

Nevertheless,  the  Order,  receiving  into  its  bosom  so 
niRTij  persons  whose  sentiments,  views,  and  purposes 
were  so  opposite — the  Order,  I  say,  has  subsisted  in  all 
its  integrity,  in  all  its  glory,  through  such  difficult 
times. 

I  do  not  mean  that,  in  entering  into  the  Order,  all 
party  spirit  is  laid  aside.  By  no  means.  The  Order 
works  no  miracles.  The  Catholic  continues  a  Catholic, 
and  the  Protestant  a  Protestant ;  the  Episcopalian  pre- 
serves the  same  zeal  for  his  High  Church,  and  the  Pres- 
byterian continues  to  support  the  discipline  of  his;  Whig 
And  Tory  continue  to  advocate  each  his  peculiar  princi- 
ples ;  but  all  these  divisions  can  produce  no  disturbance 
in  an  Order  which  has  nothing  to  do  with  them.  An 
Order,  instituted  to  maintain  peace  among  Brothers, 
could  not,  and  should  not,  embrace  any  party.  Bitter- 
ness and  disputation  are  banished  from  the  Lodge.  Ad- 
mirable effect  of  the  principles  of  the  Society — it  unites 
all  parties  without  forming  any  itself,  whatever  differ- 
ences of  opinion  its  members  may  entertain  with  regard 
to  things  without.  So  in  all  the  condemnations  to  death, 
or  other  penalties  inflicted  by  one  party  upon  certain 
members  of  an  opposite  party,  as  one  prevailed  over 
the  other,  no  one  ever  heard  that  any  Freemason  was 
punished  as  a  Freemason. 

VI.  From  all  this  I  draw  the  conclusion,  that  the  con- 
duct of  the  Order  having  always  been  such,  in  all  quar- 
ters of  the  world  wherever  it  has  been  established,  and 
especially  in  England,  where  it  has  been  most  exposed  to 


ORDER    OF    FREEMASONS.  15 

the  temptation  of  forming  a  body  formidable  in  the 
state — reckoning,  moreover,  among  its  members  some  of 
the  first  men  of  the  kingdom — I  conclude,  I  say,  from  all 
these  proofs,  that  Freemasons,  far  from  plotting  against 
their  governments,  have  always  been,  and  will  always  be, 
faithful  and  zealous  defenders  of  them — each  one  for  the 
government  whose  subject  he  is,  either  by  birth  or 
adoption. 

And  a  Society  which  has  no  other  purpose  than  to 
foster  peace  and  union  among  men,  believes  itself  entitled 
to  expect  for  itself  increasing  approbation,  goodwill,  and 
protection. 


FOURTH    OBJECTION. 

That  the  Mysterious  Assemblies  of  Freemasons  may  facilitate 
to  Cotispirators  the  means  of  forming  Clandestine  Assem- 
blies, under  the  jiretext  that  they  belong  to  this  Order. 

It  would  be  very  unjust  to  make  the  Order  suffer  for 
the  imaginary  danger — that  its  mysterious  assemblies  may 
serve  as  a  pretext  to  conspirators  to  form,  under  the  same 
title,  societies  which  might  tend  to  the  injury  of  the 
state.  If  this  principle  were  once  received,  to  what 
would  not  the  public  be  reduced?  How  many  useful 
societies,  how  many  meritorious  establishments,  would 
it  not  be  necessary  to  suppress,  regard  being  had  to  the 
abuses  which  might,  in  the  end,  spring  from  them,  and 
which,  indeed,  have  occasionally  resulted  from  them 
already  ? 

But,  without  wandering  from  my  subject,  I  can  safely 
assert  that  clandestine  assemblies  of  conspirators  having 
never  been  held,  in  any  part  of  the  world,  under  the 
name  or  pretext  of  Freemasons'  Lodges,  it  would  be  the 
greatest  possible  injustice  to  wish  to  insist  on  so  ground- 
less a  danger. 

I  go  farther :  I  maintain  that  it  is  not  possible  that 
such  assemblies  can  ever  be  held  under  this  pretext,  or 
that  the  Order  can  ever  be  even  the  indirect  cause  of 
them.  This  I  proceed  to  demonstrate  from  the  four  fol- 
lowing considerations : — 

I.  The  public  are  generally  agreed  that  Freemasons 
have  among  them  certain  signs  and  a  sort  of  language,  by 


16  APOLOGY    FOR    THE 

which  they  recognise  each  other  so  infallibly  that  a  man 
who  should  attempt  to  pass  for  a  Freemason,  without 
really  being  one,  would  immediately  be  detected.  There- 
fore, conspirators,  or  persons  evil  disposed  to  the  state, 
would  vainly  attempt  to  hold  their  meetings  under  the 
name  of  Freemasons ;  they  would  be  denied  by  the 
Brotherhood,  and  their  pretensions  declared  false  in  the 
face  of  the  world. 

II.  Bat  should  these  conspirators  succeed,  under  this 
pretext,  in  holding,  without  interruption,  assemblies  in 
which  it.  would  be  easier  for  them  to  deliberate  on  the 
means  of  attaining  their  ends  than  if  they  consulted 
each  other  only  individually,  and  with  too  great  an 
appearance  of  mystery,  what  would  result  from  all  this? 
Merely  that  their  secret,  not  being  of  the  nature  of 
Freemasonry,  would  soon  leak  out,  and  draw  its  pun- 
ishment after  it. 

III.  In  places  where  Lodges  are  public,  and  authorized 
by  consent  of  the  sovereign,  it  would  be  impossible  for  con- 
spirators to  form  false  Lodges  under  the  pretext  of  assem- 
blies of  the  Order.  There  is  no  Freemason  who  has  not 
TuU  right  of  admission  to  any  Lodge  in  the  world  ;  how, 
uhen,  could  such  conventicles  close  their  doors  against 
any  Freemason  who  should  demand  entrance?  This 
would  be  to  violate  the  fundamental  rules  of  the  Order, 
and  to  falsify  the  title  under  which  they  sought  to  shield 
themselves.  But  could  they  admit  a  man  who  would 
instantly  detect  the  imposture,  and  who,  by  making  the 
fact  known,  would  cause  the  magistrate  to  institute  par- 
ticular inquiry  into  the  motives  for  such  an  assembly. 

IV.  With  regard  to  those  places  where  Lodges  are 
merely  tolerated,  and  where  the  Fraternity  can  only 
assemble  in  secret,  the  risk  of  pernicious  assemblies  can 
neither  be  more  nor  less;  for  bothalike  are  forced  to 
concealment.  Evil-disposed  men  would  assemble  none 
the  less  if  there  were  no  Freemason  in  the  j)lace ;  they 
would  even  be  safer,  for  there  would  be  no  risk  that 
some  Freemason,  learning  by  chance  the  meeting  of  an 
assembly  under  the  name  of  the  Order,  should  prefer  a 
claim  to  be  admitted  among  them.  And  now,  I  think,  I 
have  said  more  than  enough  to  answer  this  objection. 


OTRDER    OF    FREEMASONS.  17 


FIFTH  OBJECTION. 


That  the  "preservation  of  the  secret  is  due  only  to  some  ridicu- 
lous or  shameful  practice  which  compels  the  initiate  to  he 
silent  after  he  has  'undergone  the  ceremony. 

In  refuting  the  second  objection  I  showed  that  it  was  im- 
possible any  practice  should  exist  in  our  Lodges  contrary 
to  what  religion  requires:  it  is  not  necessary,  therefore, 
to  return  to  that  point.  So,  also,  is  there  no  ground  for 
the  suspicion  of  those  who  make  the  objection  I  am 
about  to  answer.  They  say  that,  without  offending 
against  religion,  there  may  enter  into  our  mysteries  some 
ceremony  capable  of  covering  an  initiate  with  shame  if 
it  should  become  publicly  known  that  he  had  been  com- 
pelled to  submit  to  it ;  and  that,  besides,  the  desire  of 
seeing  others  caught  as  he  has  been,  makes  him  carefully 
keep  the  secret ;  that,  moreover,  it  must  be  a  source  of 
no  small  amusement  to  a  man,  when  once  he  has  been 
initiated,  to  be  in  his  turn  an  eye-witness  of  the  folly  of 
so  many  people  of  all  ranks,  great  and  small,  who  come, 
one  after  another,  to  fall  into  the  same  snare  ;  and  espe- 
cially to  see  grave  and  respectable  men  caught  in  it  as 
well  as  others.  It  is  easy  to  reply  to  such  an  objection 
as  this,  which  we  must  consider  rather  as  a  jest,  designed 
to  entrap  us  into  some  avowal,  than  as  a  diiiiculty  to 
which  a  serious  answer  is  expected  :  accordingly,  I  notice 
't  only  because  I  am  desirous  that  nothing  whatever 
.shall  be  passed  over. 

I.  If  we  imagine  the  most  disgraceful  things  to  which 
a  man  could  be  subjected,  (I  say  nothing  in  this  place  of 
criminality,  we  are  now  speaking  only  of  what  would  be 
considered  disgraceful  in  the  idea  of  the  public,)  I  do  not 
understand  how  a  respectable  man  should  be  disgraced 
by  exposing  such  an  initiation.  For,  1,  he  could  not 
know  before  his  reception  to  what  he  was  to  be  sub- 
jected, and  even  should  he  be  chargeable  with  some 
imprudence  in  incurring  such  a  risk,  his  fault  has  been 
shared  by  numbers  of  persons  wdiose  character,  birth, 
and  station,  were  so  many  motives  to  the  removal  of  his 
doubts :  2,  in  any  case,  in  naming  the  many  illustrious  par- 
takers of  his  foult,  he  would  divert  the  public  scorn  from 
Himself  on  to  a  large  number  of  persons  of  all  ranks  and 


18  ArOLOriY    I'Oll    THE 

evei'3'  (.•haracter;  and  3,  if  there  would  Le  bonietliiiig 
very  humiliating  in  conliessing  such  a  secret,  would  it  not 
be  the  duty  of  a  good  man  to  sacrifice  himself,  in  some 
measure,  for  the  public  good,  which  would  be  outraged 
by  the  existence  of  a  society  whose  purpose  it  is  to  turn . 
into  ridicule  a  large  portion  of  mankind. 

II.  I  am  w'illing,  however,  to  suppose  what  is  impos- 
sible: that,  among  so  many  distinguished  men,  there 
has  never  been  found  one  who  would  disregard  the  shame 
of  such  a  confession;  but  are  there  not  numbers  initiated 
into  the  (.)rder,  who  are  less  sensitive  as  to  what  people 
may  say  of  them'/*  and  many  more  who,  impelled  by  a 
Duturaily  jocular  disposition,  w^ould  not  hesitate  to  reveal 
such  ridiculous  secrets;  beginning  by  rallying  themselves 
first  for  having  been  so  taken  in,  and  then  so  many  others 
as  they  have  seen  duped  in  their  turn?  Lastly,  are  there 
not  many  of  unblushing  countenance  who,  especially  with 
such  examples,  would  see  no  cause  for  shame!  and  indis- 
cretion, wine,  would  not  these,  sooner  or  later,  have  pro- 
duced their  ordinary  effects?  and  were  there  nothing  else, 
ixvould  not  avarice  alone  have  surmounted  all  shame? 

III.  Finally,  the  consequences  wdiich  result  from  the 
institution  of  the  Order,  and  flow  from  its  principles, 
cannot  be  the  result  of  certain  ridiculous  or  indecent 
ceremonies  such  as  have  been  supposed.  The  purpose 
of  the  Order  and  its  effects  shall  be  explained  hereafter. 

SIXTH  OBJECTION. 
Drawn  from  the  miscondtict  of  some  viemhers  of  the  Order. 

This  objection  is  so  weak  that  it  will  need  but  few 
w^ords  to  answer  it. 

I.  Those  who  desire  to  discredit  a  body  of  men,  usually 
pay  little  attention  to  the  large  number  of  good  men 
who  compose  it :  these  they  disregard,  while  they  care- 
i'ully  point  out  the  failings,  real  or  pretended,  of  a  small 
portion  of  the  members.  They  act  unjustly  even  towards 
these  last;  for,  granting  that  they  have  failings,  passions, 
vices,  if  you  will,  might  not  some  good  qualities  be  met 
with  in  them,  to  counterbalance  the  bad?  A  man  may 
be  respectable,  although  he  may  be  enslaved  by  some 
master  passion  for  a  considerable  time. 


ORDER    OF    FREEMASONS.  19 

I  beg  the  reader  to  remember  the  dedaration  that  I 
made  when  I  began  this  apology ;  that  is,  that  when  I 
draw  my  inferences  and  examples  from  religion,  I  mean 
not  to  derogate  from  the  profound  respect  which  is  due 
to  truth  ernanating  directly  from  God.  Religion  should 
always  be  the  prime  mover  of  our  plans  and  of  our  con- 
duct." This  reiterated  declaration  will  be  sufficient  to 
preserve  me  from  misconstruction. 

II.  AVe  cannot  justly  require  of  the  Order  more  than 
we  require  of  religion  itself.  What  shall  be  thought  of 
such  an  argument  as  this: — There  are  to  be  found  among 
Freemasons  vicious  and  corrupt  men,  cheats  and  misers; 
therefore,  the  Order  of  Freemasons  is  a  radically  bad  in- 
stitution'? Religion,  proceeding  from  God  himself,  is 
subject  to  the  same  reproach;  for  not  all  Christians  are 
good  Christians.  Why,  then,  should  a  human  institution 
be  condemned  because  a  few  of  its  members  are  not 
exempt  from  failings?  If  religion,  notwithstanding  all 
its  excellence,  is  not  able  to  make  all  its  followers  saints, 
can  the  same  defect  be  reasonably  objected  to  the  Order 
of  Freemasons. 

SEVENTH  OBJECTION. 

That  Freemasons,  recognized  as  such,  have  been  hiown  to 
speak  of  the  Order  and  its  mysteries  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
give  us  but  a  poor  opinion  of  them. 

This  objection  will  be  as  easily  answered  as  the  pre- 
ceding ;  the  one  being  as  weak  as  the  other. 

I.  Among  those  who  permit  themselves  to  jest  at  the 
Order  and  its  mysteries,  or  who  treat  them  as  trifles,  we 
have  first  to  observe  that  some  men  profess  to  be  Free- 
masons without  really  being  so.  We  see  every  day  pre- 
tenders to  this  title  publicly  exposed  by  some  Brother 
whom  they  did  not  suspect  to  belong  to  the  Order. 
However,  I  will  frankly  confess  that  there  are  some- 
times found  real  Freemasons,  who,  through  indiscretion, 
trifling,  or  the  itch  of  saying  smart  things,  so  far  forget 
themselves  as  to  speak  disrespectfully  of  an  Order  which 
should  secure  their  highest  respect.  Wine,  also,  may 
sometimes  produce  this  scandalous  effect;  weak  and 
superficial  minds  may  occasionally  commit  the  same  fault 


20  APOLOGY    FOR    THE 

from  not  having  sufficiently  reflected  on  the  objects  of 
the  Institution,  on  the  advantages  which  result  from  it, 
and  what  they  owe  to  it. 

But,  what  is  this  small  number  of  defective  members, 
n  comparison  of  so  many  others  whose  probity,  honour 
nd  piety  accord  so  well  with  the  zeal  and  regard  which 
hey  constantly  manifest  for  the  Order,  congratulating 
themselves  that  they  are  members  of  it?  Can  we  sus- 
pect men  of  such  a  character,  either  of  a  silly  fanaticism, 
or  of  a  base  collusion? 

II.  What  nobler  end  can  there  be  than  that  which  the 
Christian  religion  sets  before  us?  The  practice  of  virtue 
in  this  world,  and  an  eternity  of  happiness  in  the  world 
to  come.  What  better  founded  than  its  doctidnes;  what 
more  excellent  than  its  morality ;  what  more  desirable 
than  its  promises.  Nevertheless,  do  we  not  daily  see 
this  daughter  of  heaven  exposed  to  the  raillery  of  the 
profane  and  the  licentious  ?  What  do  I  say  ?  Does  it 
not  often  happen  that  people  of  undoubted  piety  suffer 
themselves  to  be  led  on  by  example,  to  utter  expressions 
of  which  they  subsequently  bitterly  repent? 

EiailTH  OBJECTION. 

Drawn  from  our  exclusion  of  the  Fair  Sex,  without  any  excep- 
tion or  limitation. 

The  world  abounds  with  paltry  writings,  tending  either 
to  decry  women,  or  to  turn  them  into  ridicule.  Certain 
failings,  for  which,  however,  the  whole  sex  is  not  to  be 
held  responsible,  have  produced  an  abundance  of  satires, 
some  of  which  we  may  consider  as  harmless  jests,  be- 
cause the  faults  ridiculed  are  distinctly  understood  to  be 
exceptional.  In  these  we  find  no  indiscriminate  charges 
against  the  wdiole  race  of  women  ; ,  but  simply  the  faults 
of  individuals  exposed.  But  for  those  satires,  or  rather 
those  infamous  libels,  which,  occasionally  with  expres- 
sions of  apparent  reservation,  aim,  none  the  less,  to  place 
all  women  on  the  same  level,  we  can  regard  them  only 
as  productions  of  the  greatest  depravity  either  of  the 
heart  or  the  head.  Such  writers  must  speak  against 
their  own  consciences,  for  they  contravene  the  senti- 
ments of  Nature  herself.     Or,  if  they  are  really  sincere 


ORDER    OF    FREEMASONS.  21 

and  believe  what  tliey  write,  we  can  only  conclude  that 
there  are  monsters  among  minds  as  there  are  among 
bodies. 

Possibly,  a  spirit  of  revenge  may  occasionally  incite 
an  author  to  eject  such  venom.  I  can  imagine  that  his 
aim  may  be  to  visit  upon  the  whole  sex  the  misconduct 
of  some  worthless  individual:  at  least,  I  can  conceive  no 
better  reason  for  so  discreditable  a  proceeding. 

But,  in  condemning  this  extreme,  we  endeavour  also 
to  avoid  its  opposite.  While  I  defend  the  fair  sex,  I 
do  not  desire  to  become  their  panegyrist,  still  less  their 
flatterer.  Far  from  thus  attaining  the  end  I  have  in 
view,  I  should  but  give  occasion  for  impertinence,  and 
confirm  the  voluntary  skeptic  in  his  pretended  incre- 
dulity. 

I  believe  that  it  is  no  violation  of  the  rules  of  justice 
and  equity,  to  maintain  the  equality  of  virtues  and  of 
vices  in  the  two  sexes  placed  in  comparison.  Although 
the  Creator  has  assigned  to  man  and  woman  certain  dis- 
tinctive qualities  which  determine  the  vocation  of  each — 
strength  and  courage,  for  example,  belonging  properly 
to  man,  as  beauty,  gentleness,  and  modesty,  to  woman — 
it  is  quite  evident  that  both  equally  concur  to  one  and 
the  same  end,  that  is,  the  happiness,  benefit,  and  delight 
of  society.  It  is  equally  true,  again,  that  in  both  are  to 
be  found  vicious  individuals  ;  but  to  pretend  that  women 
are  worse,  more  vicious  in  their  especial  sphere,  than 
men  are  in  theirs,  is  to  advance  an  untenable  proposition 
— that  is  to  say,  a  calumny. 

There  are  to  be  found  too  many  proud  and  arrogant 
men,  puffed  up  with  the  prerogatives  that  seem  to  belong 
to  their  sex,  as  the  cultivation  of  the  arts  and  sciences, 
the  right  of  government,  of  enacting  laws,  and  the  like, 
who  claim  to  concentrate  in  themselves,  to  unite  in  their 
individual  persons,  all  the  advantages  that  are  diffused 
over  the  race.  These  men  look  upon  the  female  sex 
with  a  certain  air  of  haughtiness.  To  observe  them  and 
listen  to  their  reasonings,  women  have  been  created  only 
for  their  pleasure.  Take  from  woman  this  small  merit 
which  they  are  willing  to  allow  her,  and  she  will  cease 
to  be  good  for  anything;  she  is  a  weak  creature,  fickle, 
utterly  incapable  of  solid  reasoning;  in  a  word,  designed 
only  for  the  continuation  of  the  species.     It  is  a  great 


22  APOLOGY    FOR    THE 

thing  that  they  allow  her  a  soul,  and  do  not  condemn 
her  to  future  annihilation. 

Here  I  advance,  in  the  name  of  the  Order,  and  without 
any  fear  of  contradiction,  that  our  respect  for  the  fair 
sex  w^ill  always  lead  us  to  support  all  their  rights.  We 
honour  their  virtues,  we  cherish  the  sweetness  of  their 
society,  we  exercise  forbearance  towards  their  foibles 
and  failings,  confessing  that  we  need  all  their  forbearance 
towards  our  own. 

This  being  once  for  all  settled,  the  ladies  will  not  the 
less  think  they  have  a  right  to  complain  of  the  separation 
that  the  Order  places  betw^een  them  and  us — a  separation 
which  consists  in  not  initiating  them  into  our  mysteries, 
and  leaving  them  without  hope  of  ever  participating  in 
them. 

We  will  give  them  a  proof  of  the  estimation  in  which 
we  hold  them,  by  rendering  to  them  good  and  just 
reasons  for  their  exclusion. 

It  cannot  be  from  any  apprehension  that  they  would 
some  day  divulge  our  secrets.  Whatever  fools  and  silly 
jesters  may  say,  we  frankly  acknowledge  that  discretion 
and  indiscretion  belong  to  human  nature  in  general,  and 
are  equally  common  to  both  sexes,  and  that  we  could 
not,  in  this  respect,  incline  the  balance  to  either  side. 
We  must,  then,  look  for  other  causes  to  justify  the  Order 
with  regard  to  this  exclusion. 

I.  If  the  Order,  notwithstanding  all  its  care  and  pre- 
caution, has  not  always  been  able  to  escape  calumny — 
if  the  fact  that  no  woman  was  admitted  into  its  assem- 
blies, which  should  have  been  a  sufficient  answer  to  all 
suspicion  of  irregularity,  has  sometimes  only  served  to 
render  us  suspected  of  the  greatest  profligacy — not  be- 
cause such  ideas  of  our  mysteries  were  really  entertained, 
but  because  the  malicious  found  their  advantage  in  the 
accusation — if,  I  say,  the  Order,  notwithstanding  the 
purity  of  its  principles  and  the  integrity  of  its  purpose, 
has  not  been  able  to  ward  off  the  assaults  of  slander, 
what  would  have  been  the  case  if  ladies  had  been 
admitted  to  its  assemblies  and  initiations  ?  Calumny  in 
that  case  would  have  met  with  no  restraint,  and  malice 
would  have  had  free  course. 

II.  Let  us  suppose,  for  a  moment,  a  Lodge  composed 
of  an  equal  number  of  the  two  sexes,  and  that  the 


ORDER   OF    FREEMASONS.  33 

women  are  the  wives  of  the  men  who  form  the  other 
half:  nothing  could  be  imagined  more  regular  or  more 
modest  than  such  an  assembly,  on  the  supposition  that 
women  were  admitted  to  the  Lodges;  but,  the  mysteries 
of  the  Order  continuing,  the  Lodge  necessarily  meeting 
with  closed  doors,  should  we  escape  slander?  Vainly 
should  we  plead  that,  the  Lodge  being  composed  of  hus- 
bands and  wives  in  company  of  each  other,  they  must 
naturally  be  mutual  observers  and  guardians.  This 
reasoning,  however  well  founded,  would  not  prevent  the 
suspicion  of  a  sort  of  community,  the  very  idea  of  which 
is  revolting;  and  are  there  not  many  who,  for  the  sake 
of  a  jest,  would  disseminate  this  idea  among  the  people 
at  large  ? 

III.  By  the  very  fact  that  the  Order  declares  and 
acknowledges  that  it  conceals  a  mystery  from  all  the 
non-initiated,  an  individual  must  be  free  and  independent 
to  be  in  a  condition  to  fulfill  the  duties  necessary  to  be 
assumed,  such  as  never  to  reveal  this  secret.  Now,  men, 
and  men  only,  are  thus  free  and  independent.  Woman, 
on  the  contrary,  passes  under  the  subjection  and  govern- 
ment of  a  husband — fortunate  if  she  meets  with  a  man 
honourable  enough  not  to  reduce  her  to  slavery. 

This  is  not  the  place  to  inquire  if  men  have  rightfully 
assumed  such  a  power  over  women,  or  if  this  claim  is  a 
mere  usurpation.  Enough  that  this  authority  of  the 
man  is  real  and  acknowledged,  and  that  the  laws  sustain 
him  in  its  exercise.  At  least,  every  one  will  grant  that 
religion  assigns  to  the  man  a  primacy  in  marriage, 
regarding  him  as  chief  of  the  family,  subjecting  all  to 
him — the  wife  no  less  than  the  children.  From  this 
subordination  the  following  consequences  result : 

That  a  woman  can  never  answer  for  her  liberty  through 
the  whole  period  of  her  life ;  for 

A  girl,  from  her  birth  to  her  marriage,  lives  under 
subjection  to  her  father  and  mother,  or,  in  case  of  their 
death,  to  a  guardian,  till  she  attains  her  majority. 

Even  then,  although  become  her  own  mistress,  she 
cannot  answer  for  her  heart ;  and  the  liberty  to  which 
her  age  has  entitled  her  may  be,  and  naturally  will  be 
soon  lost,  by  the  engagements  she  will,  probably,  con- 
tract with  a  husband.  Become  mistress  of  a  family,  she 
is  still  in  no  condition  to  exercise  her  own  will,  but  owes 
3 


9i  APOLOGY    FOR    THE 

to  her  husband  an  account  of  her  proceedings,  especially 
whatever  may  appear  to  him  in  the  slightest  degree 
suspicious  or  secret :  such  an  account  she  cannot  refuse 
him,  if  he  requests, it  with  kindness,  provided  she  desires 
to  preserve  her  husband's  affection  and  confidence. 

A  girl  might,  indeed,  promise  never  to  marry,  and  even 
make  such  a  promise  in  good  faith ;  but  could  the  Order 
rely  that  she  would  always  be  able  to  keep  such  an 
engagement  ?  and  is  it  not  quite  possible  that  she  might 
be  in  this  respect  herself  deceived  ? 

Suppose,  however,  this  girl,  for  greater  security,  should 
enter  a  nunnery,  take  the  veil,  and  thereby,  under  the 
indissoluble  bonds  of  a  sacred  and  solemn  vow,  engage 
herself  to  perpetual  celibacy — would  she  then  be  better 
fitted  for  the  Order?  would  her  primitive  vow,  binding 
her  to  an  entire  submission  to  her  spiritual  superiors, 
permit  her  to  take  upon  herself  new  obligations,  especially 
as  she  could  not  know  what  such  obligations  might 
include?  Would  her  spiritual  superiors  sufier  this ?  and, 
could  she  even  do  so  without  their  knowledge,  to  what 
suspicions  would  she  not  be  constantly  subjected,  both 
with  regard  to  her  faith  and  her  morals  ?  And,  moreover, 
v^'ould  the  life  of  the  cloister  permit  her  to  avail  herself 
of  the  right  she  had  acquired — to  attend  the  meetings 
of  the  Order  ? 

Lastly,  in  the  case  of  a  widow,  become  a  free  agent 
by  her  widowhood,  can  she  promise  herself  never  to 
think  of  a  new  engagement?  Suppose  her  young,  would 
she  not  have  every  reason  to  mistrust  such  a  resolution  ? 
and  if  already  of  advanced  age,  would  this  be  a  security 
that  she  would  never  think  of  uniting  herself  to  a  second 
husband?  Would  not  the  example  of  thousands  of 
widows,  of  fifty  years  old  and  upwards,  give  the  Order 
perpetual  occasion  of  mistrust  ? 

When  all  these  reasons  are  well  examined,  we  see 
abundant  cause  for  the  exclusion  of  females  from  our 
mysteries;  as  well  from  what  has  been  already  said,  as 
rom  other  consequences  which  naturally  result  from 
their  condition;  some  of  which  I  will  briefly  mention. 

To  what  vexations  and  persecutions  would  not  a  wife 
or  a  daughter  be  exposed,  whose  husband  or  father  not 
only  was  not  a  member  of  the  Order,  but  even  enter- 
tained unfavourable  ideas  with  regard  to  it,  more  espe- 


ORDER    OP    FREEMASONS.  25 

cially  should  she  attend  the  assemblies?  The  father's 
mistrust,  and  the  husband's  jealousy,  would  then  have 
full  play;  and  the  malice  of  other  women,  not  them- 
selves initiated,  and,  above  all,  of  any  who  had  been 
rejected,  would  not  remain  without  employment. 

And  supposing  that  ladies,  who  should  be  thus  situ 
ated,  for  prudential  reasons  should  refrain  from  attending 
the  Lodge,  would  it  not  suffice  for  a  father  or  a  husband 
to  know  of  their  initiation  into  the  Order;  or  that  they 
had  attended  the  Lodge  once  or  twice  in  their  lives,  to 
awaken  scruples  that  would  touch  conjugal  or  paternal 
affection  ?  Plence  would  spring  a  perpetual  desire  to 
learn  their  secret ;  a  desire  that  would  strengthen  from 
the  refusal  to  gratify  it,  and  might  possibly  at  last  urge 
them  to  some  act  of  violence. 

I  am  aware  that  a  husband  may  occasionally  be  sub- 
jected to  the  ill  humour  of  his  wife  should  she  happen  to 
get  information  of  his  initiation.  There  are  women  who, 
to  an  insatiable  curiosity,  join  a  most  intractable  and 
unruly  temper,  and  are  the  torment  of  their  husbands. 
Nevertheless,  there  is  no  comparison  between  the  two 
cases.  However  gentle  and  patient  a  husband  may  be, 
and  to  whatever  extremity  a  wife  may  proceed  with 
regard  to  him,  both  law  and  religion  have  given  to  the 
husband  the  full  right  to  make  his  wife  confine  herself 
within  the  bounds  of  decency  and  propriety. 

I  believe  that,  after  what  I  have  said,  the  ladies  will 
readily  allow  that  we  do  them  full  justice  ;  and  that  their 
exclusion  from  our  Order  is  occasioned,  not  by  our 
judging  them  unworthy  of  our  mysteries,  but  solely  by 
the  dependence  to  which  they  are  in  so  many  ways  ex- 
posed. 

This  being  explained,  I  trust  that  they  will  generally 
grant  us  that  esteem  which  those  among  them  most 
enlightened  and  intelligent  have  never  refused  us. 

NINTH    OBJECTION. 

That  it  is  highly  impnident  and  even  sinful  to  hazard  initia- 
tion into  an  Order,  one  of  whose  known  fundamental  princi- 
ples it  is  never  to  reveal  its  Mysteries. 

It  is  quite  true  that  this  idea  of  imprudence  or  sin  on 
the  part  of  any  one  who  ventures  on  initiation  has  some- 


no  APOLOaV    FOR    THE 

times  troubled  even  very  sensible  people.     A  wise  man 
will  never  enter  on  an  undertaking  from  which  he  is  not 
well  assured  he  will  come  out  with  honour,  escape  the 
censure  of  the  world,  and,  above  all,  be  free  from  the 
reproaches  of  his  own   conscience.     This  maxim  is  so 
true,  and  its  observance  so  necessary,  that  it  is  by  this 
rule  that  we  usually  form  our  estimate  of  a  man's  under- 
standing and  judgment.     We  shall  not,  therefore,  seek 
to  overturn  it,  for  our  hearts  would  immediately  re- 
establish it.     We  will  only  enquire  if  the  maxim  applies 
to  those  who  seek  initiation  into  our  Order,  and  we  will 
state  the  objection  in  all  its  force: — 
A  wise  man  should  never  enter  on  an  undertaking  from 
which  he  is  not  assured  he  will  come  out  with  honour, 
without   incurring   the  just    censure  of  others,   and, 
above  all,  without  exposing  himself  to  the  reproaches 
of  his  own  conscience. 
A  man  who  applies  to  be  received  into  Freemasonry  is 
entirely  ignorant  what  engagements  he  is  about  to 
contract. 
Therefore  such  a  man  incurs  all  the  risks  we  have  men- 
tioned:   therefore   he   does  not  act  as  a  wise  man: 
therefore  he  exposes  himself  to  remorse  of  conscience. 
It  will  not  be  difficult  to  demonstrate  that  all  this 
leaves  us  untouched :  I  only  beg  to  be  pardoned  if  I  find 
myself  compelled  to  glance  at  certain  arguments  which 
I  have  already  adduced. 

I.  I  confess  that  the  mystery  of  the  Society  is  un- 
known ;  I  farther  confess  that  the  practices  and  ceremo- 
nies employed  in  initiations  are  equally  unknown.  But 
do  these  two  considerations,  perfectly  true  in  one  sense, 
prevent  our  seeing  enough  to  know,  that,  however  igno- 
rant we  may  be  of  the  details  of  what  is  to  be  learned 
and  practised  on  our  introduction  into  the  Order,  we  may 
be  perfectly  assured  that  nothing  will  be  taught  or  done 
which  will  in  the  slightest  degree  offend  the  honour, 
innocence,  or  conscience  of  any  individual  ?  Now,  upon 
this  certain  foundation,  can  there  be  either  sin  or  im- 
prudence in  wishing  to  learn  more,  and  applying  for 
admission  into  a  society  against  which  no  well  founded 
reproach  has  ever  been  made? 

II.  Before  my  own  initiation,  I  made  very  serious 
reflections   on   what  I  was  about  to  undertake.     1.  I 


ORDER    OF    FREEMASONS.  27 

observed  in  the  Society  princes  and  magistrates  of  all 
ranks.  There  can,  then,  I  said  to  myself,  be  nothing  in 
the  Society  inconsistent  with  the  inviolable  fidelity  we 
ovi^e  to  to  the  government ;  otherwise  these  same  au- 
thorities, who  are  initiated  into  the  Order,  would  become 
its  fii'st  destroyers.  2.  I  saw  in  it  clergymen  of  good 
character,  irreproachable  in  morals  and  conduct :  what, 
then,  has  Christianity  to  apprehend  from  the  Order  since 
I  see,  even  in  its  bosom,  those  who  are  the  most  faithful 
supporters  of  religion?  3.  Lastly,  I  saw  in  it  priests 
of  my  own  particular  church,  whence  I  might  naturally 
conclude,  as  I  have  elsewhere  remarked,  that  the  Order 
does  not  seek  to  direct  the  consciences  of  Christians; 
that  it  leaves  this  right  to  the  Church,  to  whom  alone  it 
appertains;  but  that  it  receives  all  Christians  without 
taking  upon  itself  to  turn  any  any  one  of  them  aside 
from  the  profession  of  his  faith,  much  less  to  inspire  him 
with  indifference  or  carelessness  in  religious  matters; 
and  I  was  confirmed  in  these  ideas  when  I  saw  them  all 
continuing  in  their  former  sentiments  with  the  same  zeal 
as  before,  and  finally  resign  themselves  to  death  with  all 
the  evidences  of  sincere  faith. 

III.  The  number  of  sensible  men  whom  I  remarked 
in  the  Order,  many  of  them  by  no  means  of  a  disposition 
to  engage  in  anything  ridiculous,  much  less  contrary  to 
sound  morals,  inspired  me  with  confidence  upon  the 
initiation,  still  more  by  their  example  than  by  their 
words:  and  the  behaviour  of  some  Freemasons  of  ill- 
regulated  lives  and  conduct,  but  called  to  mind  that 
man  is  always  man,  and  that  some  such  must  be  found 
in  all  bodies  and  societies,  especially  those  that  are 
numerous. 

IV.  The  course  of  this  Society,  during  the  long  period 
of  its  existence,  is  conclusive  proof  of  its  innocence. 
The  antiquity  of  our  Order  is  disputed,  but,  on  this 
point,  men  are  certainly  in  error:  is  it,  then,  certain 
that  it  has  not  formerly  appeared  with  some  glory? 
This,  however,  is  not  the  place  to  argue  this  position, 
and  I  am  willing  to  limit  my  remarks  to  the  last  twenty 
years,  during  which  period  it  has  greatly  increased,  and 
now  counts  its  members  by  thousands.  What  shadow 
of  wrong  has  been  detected  within  it?  Has  it  laid  itself 
open  to  suspicion  in  any  way  whatever?     And  does  not 


ZO  APOLOGY    FOR    THE 

this  new  consideration  throw  light  on  my  initiation  and 
its  consequences,  even  before  my  entrance  into  the 
Order? 

Whence  it  follows,  that  if,  strictly  speaking,  a  candi- 
date does  not  exactly  know  what  he  is  about  to  do,  nor 
to  what  he  will  be  expected  to  engage  himself,  it  is, 
nevertheless,  equally  true,  that  he  knows  in  a  general 
way,  without  the  least  room  for  doubt,  that  he  is  about 
to  attach  himself  to  a  blameless  and  honourable  Society, 
a  gentle,  peace-loving  Society,  whose  conduct  alone  forms 
its  all-sufficient  apology. 

From  all  this  I  conclude  that  no  member  of  the  Order 
is  justly  liable  to  the  reproach  of  having  blindly  given 
himself  up  to  engagements  of  which  he  knew  neither 
the  end  nor  the  consequences;  since  the  Order  has  been 
long  and  well  enough  known  to  have  cleared  itself  from 
the  suspicions  its  opponents  have  raised  against  it.  And 
no  great  logical  culture  is  needed  to  reason  justly  as  to 
the  consequences  of  such  an  engagement.  A  man  of 
ordinary  education,  by  the  aid  of  good  sense  alone,  will 
soon  be  convinced  that  he  runs  no  risk  whatever  in  an 
initiation  which  will  associate  him  with  a  great  number 
of  persons  whose  religion,  morals,  and  conduct,  cannot 
be  called  in  question. 


ORDER    OF    FREEMASONS.  39 

REPLY  TO 
CEilTA.IISr     DECISIONS 

VENTURED    BY    THE    INQUISITIVE,     AGAINST     WHICH    WE     IN     OUR 
TURN    PROPOUND 

THREE   QUESTIONS  OR  DIFFICULTIES. 

Those  most  inquisitive  to  discover  the  mystery  of  the 
Order,  those  vv^ho  are  most  anxious  to  fathom  it,  are  con- 
stantly deciding,  in  the  conversations  they  hold  with 
acknowledged  Freemasons,  in  what  this  mystery  con- 
sists and  fixing  it  upon  some  particular  point.  It  is  this, 
they  boldly  assert,  and  can  be  nothing  else  !  Not  that, 
after  this  pretended  decision,  and  unhesitating  persuasion, 
they  are  in  less  doubt  than  before.  They  make  these 
assertions  only  to  conceal  a  snare  too  gross  to  entrap 
any  one.  They  imagine  that  we  will  angrily  contradict 
them,  and  that,  in  the  heat  of  argument,  some  word  may 
escape  which  may  at  last  determine  them.  Experience 
might  long  ago  have  taught  them  the  vanity  of  such 
anticipations.  However,  that  they  may  not  accuse  us 
of  assumed  indifference,  let  us  examine  their  decisions, 
and  propose  to  them  in  turn  our  difficulties  on  their  rash 
inferences. 

Here  we  have  an  important  advantage  in  the  invio- 
lable secrecy  of  the  Order  as  to  what  passes  within  the 
Lodges  ;  whilst  those  who  hazard  their  decisions  without 
knowledge,  differ  among  themselves  and  fail  to  come  to 
any  agreement  with  regard  to  a  secret  so  well  kept. 

I  believe  I  may,  without  unfairness  to  these  anxious 
enquirers,  reduce  their  guesses  about  the  mystery  of  our 
Order  to  three  principal  positions. 

I.  That  there  is  an  oath  which  preserves  the  secret; 
men  being  naturally  repugnant  to  violate  the 
sanctity  of  an  oath. 
II.  That  there  is  no  oath  because  there  is  no  secret ; 
the  pretended  mystery  being  only  a  chimera  of 
the  imagination. 


30  APOLOGY    FOR    THE 

III.  That,  if  there  is  a  mystery  under  oath,  or  even 
without  oath,  the  dread  of  being  assassinated,  in 
case  of  any  indiscretion,  restrains  all  the  members 
of  the  Order  and  forms  them  insensibly  to  a 
perpetual  silence. 

These  are  the  positions  to  which  their  decisions  are 
reduced,  at  least  those  which  seem  to  me  the  most 
rational. 

As  they  cannot  furnish  the  smallest  proof  of  what 
they  so  boldly  advance,  I  might  very  well  be  excused  for 
leaving  their  decisions  undecided,  if  the  expression  may 
be  permitted,  since  they  are  not  themselves  in  any  way 
persuaded  of  what  they  maintain  with  so  positive  an 
air. 

Nevertheless,  without  being  obliged  to  give  them  any 
account  of  what  they  can  only  learn  through  the  process 
of  initiation,  we  are  at  liberty  to  propose  to  them  in  our 
turn  the  following  three  questions  or  objections,  to  which 
we  desire  their  answers. 


FIRST   QUESTION. 

Propoiinded  to  those  who  say  that  there  is  an  oath  which 
Ijreserves  the  secret ;  from  the  natural  repugnance  of  men 
to  violate  the  sanctity  of  an  oath. 

If  an  oath  is  so  infallible  a  means  to  secure  the  religi- 
ous observance  of  a  secret,  I  ask  how  it  has  happened 
that  princes  have  been  so  often  betrayed,  notwithstand- 
ing the  precaution  of  the  oath  which  they  have  always 
exacted  from  their  subjects;  more  particularly  from 
those  to  whom  they  have  entrusted  matters  of  import- 
ance? But  much  more;  to  the  obligation  of  an  oath 
they  have  added  motives  often  much  more  powerful 
among  men  than  the  fear  of  offending  God,  and  perilling 
their  salvation.  They  have  decreed  against  the  violators 
of  their  oath,  infamy,  confiscation  of  property,  the  penalty 
of  d«ath,  often  of  a  very  cruel  death,  according  to  the 
exigence  of  the  case.  These  penalties  have  been  inflicted 
on  transgressors  whenever  they  have  been  detected ;  un- 
less when  flight  or  the  clemency  of  the  prince  has 
rescued  them  from  a  punishment  justly  merited.     Have 


ORDER    OF    FREEMASONS.  31 

these  terrible  examples  ever  prevented  the  existence  of 
traitors  from  time  to  time?  and  has  not  every  age  pro- 
duced these  shocking  victims  of  avarice  and  the  depra- 
vity of  the  human  heart? 

If,  then,  the  Fraternity  relies  on  a  solemn  oath,  binding 
its  initiates,  for  the  inviolable  preservation  of  its  secret, 
how  can  it  flatter  itself  that  this  secret  will  never  tran- 
spire, when  it  must  of  necessity  be  confided  to  so  many 
initiates?  How  can  the  Society  hope  that  an  oath  will 
for  ever  retain  all  its  members  in  their  duty  ;  and  that 
in  all  times  and  under  every  trial  they  will  have  enough 
honour  and  religion  to  observe  it?  How,  above  all,  can 
men  expect  such  advantage  from  an  oath,  whilst  they 
have  not  the  resource  which  princes  and  magistrates 
alone  have  the  right  to  employ?  I  mean  the  punishment 
of  trangressors. 


SECOND  QUESTION. 

Propounded  to  those  loho  assert  that  there  is  no  oath,  because  the 
Order  has  no  secret;  the  pretended  mystery  being  only  a 
chimera  of  the  imagination. 

No,  say  another  class  of  the  inquisitive,  there  is  no  oath ; 
the  pretended  secret  is  nothing;  and  what  need  is  there 
of  an  oath  where  there  is  no  secret  ? 

Another  decision  as  weak  and  unsupported  as  the 
former.  It  is  nothing !  The  question  is  quite  decided  : 
but  I  would  ask  them  to  tell  me  at  least  how  they 
understand  this  Nothing. 

Let  us  assist  them  to  explain  it,  that  we  may  leave 
them  no  room  to  charge  us  with  unfairness.  I  suppose 
them  to  mean  by  this  Nothing,  that  the  whole  mystery 
of  the  Order  consists  in  a  certain  confraternity,  very 
exactly  observed ;  and  that  what  we  name  initiation  or 
reception  into  the  Order,  in  which  the  pretended 
secret  is  supposed  to  consist,  is  nothing  more  than  a 
simple  exhortation  not  to  divulge  the  ceremonies  em- 
ployed in  these  receptions,  if,  indeed,  it  is  to  be  supposed 
that  there  are  any  ceremonies  whatever,  and  to  conceal 
the  words  and  signs  by  which  the  initiated  recognize 
each  other  in  all  the  countries  of  the  world,  amid  every 


32  APOLOGY    FOR    THE 

variety  of  language,  and  that  without  having  ever  met 
before. 

If  this  is  not  what  they  mean  by  their  Nothing,  I  con- 
fess that  I  do  not  understand  them,  since  all  allow  that 
we  have  a  peculiar  language  and  signs. 

1  will  suppose,  for  a  moment,  that  this  is  all  we  mean 
by  the  secrets  of  the  Order.  I  have  shown  in  the  former 
Question  that  an  oath  does  not  seem  a  very  infallible 
means  of  concealing  our  secret ;  that  is  to  say,  our 
language  and  signs.  But  if,  as  these  men  say,  we  have 
no  oath,  how  is  it  that  these  signs  and  language  have 
never  yet  been  revealed  ;  that  they  are  preserved  among 
us  alone,  on  the  faith  of  simple  promises,  although 
entrusted  to  so  great  a  number  of  men,  among  whom 
not  a  few  have  been  unable  to  keep  to  themselves  secrets 
on  which  their  own  reputation  and  interest  have 
depended,  the  disclosure  of  which  has  caused  them  a 
thousand  vexations.  Whence  I  infer,  that  if  our  lan- 
guage and  our  signs  have  never  been  disclosed,  and  this 
truth  is  undeniable,  and  that  hitherto  the  secret  has  been 
faithfully  kept,  whether  under  oath,  or  simple  promise, 
or  any  other  engagement  that  may  be  supposed,  I  infer, 
I  say,  that  it  would  be  no  more  difficult  to  keep  the 
secret  of  the  Order,  if  there  is  one  beside  the  language 
and  the  signs,  than  it  has  been  to  keep  secret  the  lan- 
guage and  signs  themselves. 

Those,  therefore,  who  say  that  the  secret  of  the  Order 
is  nothing,  are  reduced  to  a  self-contradiction  when  they 
acknowledge  a  secret  at  least  in  the  language  and  the 
signs.  My  objection  being  thus  left  in  its  full  force,  I 
call  on  them  to  tell  me  how  it  has  happened  that,  either 
with  an  oath  or  without,  this  language  and  these  signs 
have  never  transpired  beyond  the  Order. 

THIKD  QUESTION. 

Addressed  to  those  who  say  that  if  there  is  in  the  Order  a 
mystery,  either  with  or  without  an  oath,  the  fear  of  being 
assassinated,  in  case  of  iiidiscretion,  restrains  all  the  mem- 
hers  of  the  Order,  and  insensibly  forms  them  to  a  jperjpetual 
silence. 

As,  in  truth,  men  have  never  hitherto  been  able  to  con- 
ceive that  it  was  possible  for  an  Order  so  widely  spread 


ORDER    OF    FREEMASONS.  33 

to  preserve  its  secret  among  so  great  a  number  of  initi- 
ates, and  that  without  having  any  rewards  to  offer  as  a 
recompense  of  fidelity,  nor  any  authority  to  inflict  penal- 
ties on  the  betrayers  of  the  secret,  having  no  means  to 
bring  an  offender  to  trial  and  condemnation,  nor  any  tri- 
bunal for  this  purpose  in  any  country  whatever,  and 
never  having  taken  any  step  tending  the  least  in  the 
world  to  encroach  on  the  authority  of  magistrates,  and 
being  itself  subject  to  them  in  temporal  things,  as  to  the 
Church  in  spiritual ;  all  this  being  clearly  seen  and 
received  as  an  established  fact,  proved  by  the  conduct  of 
the  Order  at  all  times,  they  have  been  reduced,  in  order 
to  explain  the  possibility  of  the  preservation  of  the 
secret,  to  imagine  that  it  is  the  fear  of  assassination 
which  has  wrought  this  effect,  and  for  ever  closed 
the  mouths  of  the  members  against  the  least  indiscre- 
tion. 

But  still  more  :  to  give  colour  to  this  black  calumny, 
some  have  gone  so  far  as  to  say  that  among  those  who 
have  been  from  time  to  time  assassinated,  either  in  the 
forests,  or  at  night  in  cities,  or  who  have  been  found 
drowned  in  the  rivers,  there  may  have  been  some  whose 
indiscretion  had  rendered  them  victims  of  the  Order:  a 
vengeance  which  might  be  safely  inflicted  on  the  viola- 
tors of  their  oath,  since  such  murders  would  naturally 
be  attributed  either  to  robbers  or  to  some  secret  enemy, 
and  thus  the  Order  would  be  unsuspected. 

It  is  inconceivable  that  honourable  men  should  enter- 
tain ideas  so  unworthy  of  humanity  in  general,  much 
more  in  particular  that  they  should  so  suspect  a  Society 
among  whose  members  are  so  many  persons  of  undoubted 
probity  and  piety.  Yet,  as  the  charge  is  a  very  grave 
one,  and  as  there  may  be  weak-minded  individuals  who 
will  suffer  themselves  to  be  abused  by  men,  who,  merely 
desiring  to  divert  themselves  with  their  scruples,  by 
instilling  into  their  minds  ideas,  the  futility  of  which  is 
to  themselves  well  known,  it  may  be  well  to  prove  how 
impossible  it  is  that  the  Fraternity  should  have  preserved 
its  secret  by  such  sanguinary  means,  and  that  the  em- 
ployment of  such  means  would  have  been  the  very  way 
to  bury  the  Order  under  its  own  ruins  by  a  just  retribu- 
tion, and  to  destroy  in  a  brief  time  the  very  existence 
of  its  secret. 


34  APOLOGY    FOR    THE 

In  reply  to  this  detestable  suspicion,  I  will  first  lay 
down  the  following  positions : — ■ 

1,  Either  the  Order,  at  my  reception,  having  the  design 
to  assassinate  me  if  I  reveal  its  secret,  yet  does  not 
inform  me  that  such  will  be  my  punishment  should  I  be 
wanting  to  my  engagements. 

2.  Or  the  Order  not  only  entertains  the  design  in  such 
case  of  punishing  me  by  assassination,  having  no  other 
means  to  employ,  but  candidly  informs  me  that  such  is 
the  \<i\v  against  the  violation  of  the  oath,  and  that  such 
\^  ill  bi'  my  end  should  I  commit  any  indiscretion. 

First,  If,  although  in  the  Order,  I  do  not  know  that 
a5;sassination  is  the  punishment  in  case  of  such  revela- 
tion, here  is  a  mystery  concealed  from  me,  and  I  have 
already  proved  that  it  is  impossible  that  some  of  the 
members  of  the  Order  should  possess  a  secret  to  the 
perpetual  exclusion  of  the  other  members.  But,  sup- 
posing the  possibility  that  I  have  been  kept  in  ignorance 
of  so  terrible  a  danger,  it  is  not,  then,  the  fear  of  assassi- 
nation that  restrains  me.  If  there  is  no  threat  there  can 
be  no  fear. 

Secondly,  If,  on  the  contrary,  I  am  informed  that,  in 
case  of  indiscretion,  my  end  will  be  to  perish  miserably, 
and  so  that  no  one  shall  ever  discover  the  authors  of  my 
death,  I  should  have  a  very  easy  way  of  w^arding  off  the 
blow,  namely,  to  make  the  whole  Lodge  responsible,  and 
that  from  the  first  moment  that  I  had  suffered  the  secret 
to  escape  me. 

To  explain  my  idea,  I  suppose  for  a  moment  that  a 
Freemason  has  divulged  his  secret,  whether  under  the 
mfluence  of  wine,  or  from  a  love  of  talking,  or  from 
treasonable  motives,  or  from  some  other  cause,  it  matters 
not  what,  would  he  not  immediately  seriously  reflect  on 
the  perpetual  danger  he  must  thereafter  incur?  He  has 
gone  too  far  to  recede ;  the  desire  to  preserve  his  life 
will  lead  him  to  consummate  his  treason.  He  knows 
that  the  Order,  as  such,  holds  no  legal  authority,  and 
cannot  employ  the  secular  arm.  What,  then,  will  this 
ex-Freemason  do  ?  He  will  implore  the  aid  of  the 
magistrate,  and,  to  merit  his  full  confidence,  will  disclose 
to  him  the  secret  from  one  end  to  the  other.  He  will 
put  himself  under  the  magistrate's  protection,  by  declar- 
ing his  apprehensions  and  his  danger  j  he  will  make  each 


ORDER    OF    FREEMASONS.  35 

member  of  his  Lodge,  and  of  all  the  Lodges  around, 
responsible  for  his  life,  naming  them  all  individually ; 
and,  lest  time  should  bring  about  forgetful ness  of  a 
declaration,  on  which,  for  the  future,  his  safety  must 
depend,  he  will  be  careful  to  renew  it  at  least  every 
year.  And  let  no  one  say  that  such  an  expedient  is  far- 
fetched; on  the  contrary,  it  naturally  presents  itself; 
and  every  one  knows  that  the  fear  of  death  will  awaken 
the  intellect,  even  of  the  simplest  man,  to  search  for 
means  of  escape.  It  is,  then,  altogether  ridiculous  to 
allege  that  the  dread  of  a  tragic  death  causes  the  pre- 
servation of  the  secret. 

To  imagine  that,  among  those  who  have  come  to  a 
tragic  end,  there  may  be  some  whose  deaths  have  been 
brought  about  by  their  having  made  revelations  detri- 
mental to  the  Order,  is  the  most  ridiculous  idea  that 
ever  took  possession  of  the  mind;  for,  if  these  people 
revealed  the  secret,  why  is  it  still  unknown  ?  If  the 
secret  is  still  unknown  beyond  the  limits  of  the  Order, 
how  can  we  believe  that  any  one  has  lost  his  life  for 
having  disclosed  it?v 

And  here  it  would  be  wrong  to  accuse  one  of  seeking, 
by  these  three  questions,  to  mystify  the  reader,  since  I 
leave  them  unanswered.  If  the  three  positions  on  which 
I  base  my  questions  were  of  my  own  invention,  did  we 
not  constantly  hear  them  in  the  mouths  of  the  inquisi- 
tive, there  might  be  reason  to  suppose  that  a  love  of 
jesting  had  urged  me  to  raise  these  difficulties  in  order 
to  keep  the  reader  in  breath.  But,  as  it  is  undeniably 
true  that  we  every  day  hear  such  contradictory  decisions, 
I  have  a  perfect  right,  in  my  turn,  to  examine  them 
severally. 

Let  us  inquire  how  it  has  happened  that,  while  all  the 
religions  of  the  world,  good  or  bad,  as  well  as  all  parties, 
have  had  their  persecutors,  the  Order  of  Freemasons  has 
at  all  times  been  exempt,  at  least  with  regard  to  indi- 
viduals. Does  not  this  truth  seem  to  imply  some  laxity 
of  principle  in  the  Order  in  general,  as  well  as  want  of 
zeal  in  its  members?  I  desire  to  pass  over  no  serious 
difficulty  that  may  be  raised  against  us,  that  I  may  not 
be  called  upon  to  return  to  the  question. 

Every  party  in  the  world  has  had  its  antagonists  and 
opponents :  when  opposition  has  ceased,  party  was  at 


86  APOLOGY    FOR    THE 

an  end.  Of  the  different  religions  that  have  appeared  in 
the  various  ages  of  the  world,  and  of  all  those  which 
still  subsist,  no  one  has  escaped  the  most  strenuous  op- 
position, the  most  open  persecution.  The  true  religion, 
especially,  has  ever  had  more  attacks  to  sustain  than 
falsehood  and  imposture. 

Was  not  Judaism,  at  its  birth,  even  before  its  full 
development,  in  danger  of  perishing  through  the  jealousy 
of  the  Pharaohs?  And  in  later  ages,  how  many  assaults 
were  made  upon  that  ancient  faith,  the  mother  of  Chris- 
tianity, by  its  own  idolatrous  kings,  by  Antiochus,  and 
other  Syrian  monarchs,  and  by  the  power  of  the  Romans  ! 

The  Christian  Church  was,  in  a  manner,  bathed  in  its 
own  blood  for  three  centuries.  The  blameless  life  of  its 
first  teachers,  the  exalted  virtues  of  its  earliest  saints, 
the  excellence  of  its  doctrines,  the  purity  and  beauty  of 
its  morality,  all  supported  by  the  most  astonishing  and 
unquestioned  miracles,  were  unable  to  calm  the  rage  of 
persecution,  which  never  ceased  till  repressed  by  the 
authority  of  the  emperors,  when  at  length  they  rendered 
homage  to  the  Cross,  and  gloried  in  a  name  which  had 
hitherto  been  the  object  of  their  contempt  and  hatred. 

If  we  carefully  examine  what  forms  the  essential 
character  of  every  religion,  we  shall  find  that  each, 
claiming  to  be  better  founded  than  all  others,  looks  upon 
itself  as  the  sole  depository  of  the  keys  of  the  Kingdom 
of  Heaven.  Hence  the  natural  desire  to  extend  itself, 
to  establish  itself  on  the  ruins  of  all  the  others ;  at  one 
time  by  means  of  persuasion,  at  another  by  force,  or  by 
favour  of  the  laws,  and  not  unfrequently  by  all  these 
means  united.  Do  we  not  see  even  those  Churches  which 
profess  the  greatest  moderation,  as  soon  as  they  get  the 
power  on  their  side,  hold  all  others  in  dependence  and 
subjection  ?  It  is  almost  impossible  to  believe  that  they 
will  ever  think  or  act  otherwise,  influenced  as  they  are 
by  the  powerful  motive  of  saving  the  souls  of  men. 

It  is,  then,  this  unavoidable  desire  of  each  to  advance 
itself  at  the  expense  of  others,  which  at  all  times  has 
occasioned  so  many  persecutions. 

From  this  inconsistency,  our  Order  has  always  been 
free,  because  its  system  and  its  views  have  been  such  as 
to  excite  no  opposition.  It  has  never  made  pretensions 
to  divine  institution ;  it  acknowledges  that  its  origin  is 


ORDER    OF    FREEMASONS.  37 

purely  human,  and  thus  it  in  no  way  interferes  with 
religion.  Although  it  forms  an  organised  body,  as  it 
seeks  not  to  dissolve  or  annihilate  other  bodies,  it  has 
never  drawn  upon  itself  their  jealousy  or  hatred.  Its 
views  do  not  extend  beyond  the  present  life,  and  it  leaves 
to  each  of  its  members  the  care  of  his  own  conscience, 
permitting  each  to  work  out  his  own  salvation  according 
to  the  principles  of  the  religion  in  which  he  has  been 
educated.  It  does  not  strive  to  draw  any  one  within  its 
pale ;  it  cares  not  to  strengthen  its  party,  readily  ac- 
knowledging that  a  man  may  be  virtuous  independently 
of  the  Order.  Lastly,  it  never,  as  a  body,  exercises  any 
party  influence,  each  member  remaining  at  entire  liberty 
to  do  in  such  matters  as  his  duty  and  conscience  dictate. 
These  are  the  causes  which  have  procured  for  the 
Order  such  unbroken  and  universal  tranquillity.  Those 
potentates  who  have  been  least  favourably  disposed  to  it, 
have  never  carried  their  opposition  farther  than  the  pro- 
hibition to  assemble  in  Lodges.  No  member  of  the 
Order  has  ever  been  brought  to  trial  as  such,  and  no  one 
has  ever  been  banished,  imprisoned,  or  deprived  of  his 
property,  as  a  punishment  for  being  connected  with  it. 
It  is,  then,  quite  clear  that  the  tranquillity  which  the 
Order  has  uniformly  enjoyed,  cannot  be  regarded  as  the 
consequence  of  any  unworthy  negation  in  accordance 
with  the  temper  and  spirit  of  the  times. 

A  Proof  of  the  Purity  and  Innocence  of  the   Order  drawn 
from  the  geyiei-al  silence  of  the  dying. 

I  think  this  last  proof  stronger  than  any  of  the  pre- 
ceding, for  it  is  in  the  last  moments  of  our  life,  when 
gathered  into  ourselves,  on  the  eve  of  being  called  to 
render  an  account  of  all  our  past  conduct  at  the  bar  of 
God,  that  the  mask  must  inevitably  fall,  and  the  hypo- 
crite and  sinner  accuse  himself  without  reserve.  Every 
one  knows  with  what  strictness  one  Christian  commu- 
nity especially  requires  exactness  and  detail  in  the  con- 
fession of  its  penitents ;  above  all,  when  they  are 
at  the  approach  of  death.  I  am  aware  that  the  con- 
fessor is  bound  to  conceal  the  confession ;  and  I  am 
persuaded  that  this  obligation  is  religiously  observed. 
But  this  secrecy  would  be  very  far  from  an  effectual 
concealment  of  the  iniquities  of  the  Order.     A  strict  and 


38  APOLOGY    FOR    THE 

pious  confessor,  ill  satisfied  with  a  private  confession 
which  related  to  crimes  spread  through  the  whole  body 
of  the  Society,  would  most  assuredly  require  of  the  dying 
man  a  public  avowal  of  all  the  evil  he  might  know  or 
suspect  in  the  matter.  Indeed,  could  the  penitent  be 
well  disposed  for  the  other  world,  if,  before  quitting  this, 
confining  himself  to  his  individual  repentance,  he  should 
neglect  or  refuse  to  employ  the  most  effectual  means  of 
turning  others  aside  from  the  snare  into  which  he  had 
unwarily  fallen,  and  could  so  imperfect  a  confession 
obtain  him  absolution? 

In  other  Christian  communions,  even  those  which  seem 
least  rigid  in  the  details  of  confession,  men  cannot  but 
believe  themselves  called  upon  to  enter  into  certain 
particulars,  according  to  their  different  vocations,  and 
the  varied  circumstances  of  their  lives,  and  especially  in 
the  article  of  death.  To  this  the  directors  of  their  con- 
science are  careful  to  exhort  the  dying,  and  should  we 
see  these  different  Christians  belonging  to  the  Order  pass 
into  the  other  world  in  such  perfect  tranquillity  on  this 
point,  were  they  combined  to  violate  that  first  principle 
of  religion,  to  cut  up  evil  at  its  roots. 

Reply  to  those  who  demand  of  us  why  we  affect  such  Mystery. 

I.  It  is  a  sort  of  injustice  to  ask  us  this  question.  To 
call  on  us  to  state  the  reasons  which  induce  us  to  the 
observance  of  a  secret  impenetrable  to  those  who  are  not 
in  the  Order,  particularly  if  this  mystery  is  one  of  the 
fundamental  supports  of  the  Order,  is  in  some  sort  to 
require  us  to  unveil  the  mystery  itself. 

II.  If  the  effects  of  this  mystery  have  been  invariably 
good,  if  the  Order  has  never  departed  from  the  principles 
of  religion  and  justice,  and  this  has  been  sufficiently 
proved,  the  mystery  can  contain  nothing  but  what  is  in 
accordance  with  the  effects  that  have  proceeded  from  it. 
This  being  the  case,  the  secret  ought  to  cause  no  scruple, 
nor  to  give  offence  to  any ;  nothing  but  an  immoderate 
curiosity  can  complain  or  murmur  on  this  account. 

III.  After  all,  this  mystery  is  not  beyond  reach.  The 
great  number  of  persons  to  whom  it  is  daily  entrusted 
on  their  initiation  into  the  Order,  in  so  many  different 
countries,  proves  that,  far  from  wishing  to  conceal  it,  we 
unhesitatingly  spread  it  on  all  sides  without  apprehend- 


ORDER    OF    FREEMASONS.  39 

ing  that  it  will  be  betrayed.  A  mystery  communicated 
to  so  many  persons  of  all  states,  conditions,  and  charac- 
ter, hardly  deserves  to  be  called  a  mystery.  True,  it 
continues  a  mystery  for  those  not  initiated  into  the 
Order ;  but,  as  initiation  is  refused  to  no  honourable  and 
worthy  man,  most  of  those  who  raise  this  difficult} 
may,  if  they  please,  in  a  short  time,  be  fully  enlightene 
by  means  of  initiation.  But  the  desire  must,  however, 
be  of  their  own  free  will,  for  the  Order  never  seeks  to 
draw  any  one  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  has  always  exhibit- 
ed the  greatest  circumspection  in  the  acceptance  of 
aspirants. 

IV.  Finally,  to  gratify,  in  some  sort,  the  inquisitive,  I 
will  ask  them  if  the  very  fact  of  a  secret  preserved  for 
so  long  a  time  by  so  many  different  people,  in  so  invio- 
lable a  manner,  does  not  render  the  Society  more  worthy 
of  public  attention  and  estimation  ?  And  if  this  effect, 
so  advantageous  to  the  Order,  is  not  a  sufficient  reason 
for  maintaining  the  secret  ? 

Reply  to  the  qtiestion :  What  is  the  Purpose  of  the  Order  ? 

I  think  the  public  has  a  right  to  ask  this  question,  and 
that  we  are  bound  to  state  what  are  the  advantages  of 
belonging  to  the  Order ;  and  I  suppose  the  chief  advan- 
tages to  be  the  eight  following  : — 

I.  The  Order  unites  in  the  spirit  of  peace  and  fraternity 
all  its  members,  in  whatever  communion  they  may  have 
been  brought  up,  and  to  whatever  party  they  may  be- 
long ;  so  that,  whilst  each  remains  faithful  and  zealous 
in  his  own  principles,  he  entertains  none  the  less  affection 
for  Brethren  differing  from  him  in  opinion  and  mode  of 
worship,  but  all  entertaining  the  same  hope  of  immor- 
tality, the  same  reliance  on  the  eternal  atonement  of  a 
God,  who  has  condescended  to  die  for  their  redemption  ; 
a  union  the  more  worthy  of  admiration,  that  it  would 
appear  impossible,  did  not  the  constant  experience  of  the 
Order  prove  the  reality  of  its  existence — a  union  of  the 
heart,  such  as  the  wisest  and  most  pious  men  have  always 
desired,  since  a  perfect  unity  of  opinion  is  not  to  be 
hoped  for 

n.  The  Order  makes  so  many  Brothers  of  the  great 
and  the  humble.  It  brings  them  together  without  con- 
founding either  wealth  or  rank :  and  thus  has  avoided 
4 


40  APOLOGY    FOR    THE 

the  rock  on  which  so  many  Christians  of  latter  times 
have  fallen,  that  of  aiming  to  establish  a  community  of 
goods  among  all  men — or,  at  least,  among  all  of  their 
own  sentiments — a  thing  utterly  impracticable  so  soon  as 
the  body  becomes  numerous.  Here  the  great  man 
condescends  to  become  the  Brother  of  the  poor  man,  and 
publicly  to  honour  him  with  this  title,  aiding  and  pro- 
tecting him  on  all  proper  occasions.  But  if  the  great 
man  learns  to  condescend  to  him  of  low  degree,  the 
latter  is  early  taught  not  to  be  puffed  up,  not  to  abuse  a 
confraternity  so  honourable  to  himself,  so  suited  to  console 
him  for  the  mediocrity  of  his  condition  ;  and  not  to  for- 
get what  is  due  to  his  superior  in  rank,  in  birth,  and 
wealth.  He  employs  himself  with  the  greater  zeal  and 
fidelity  in  his  service,  because  he  feels  he  is  working  for 
a  Brother,  and  for  a  Brother  not  ungrateful.  And  all, 
both  rich  and  poor,  are  under  mutual  obligations  to  con- 
tribute, each  according  to  his  station,  towards  the  com- 
mon welfare  and  happiness  ;  and  very  seldom  it  is  that 
we  see  this  obligation  unregarded. 

III.  All  those  illustrious  orders,  instituted  by  the 
various  sovereigns,  are  the  portion  of  the  great  alone, 
and  out  of  the  reach  of  the  humble.  Our  Order  restores 
to  these  the  equality,  by  admitting  them  as  readily  aa 
the  most  distinguished  men. 

IV.  Every  member  of  the  Order  is  entitled  to  admission 
into  any  Lodge  in  the  world — an  advantage  which, 
without  more  particular  recommendations,  procures  to 
its  possessor  a  ready  means  of  introducing  himself  to  a 
large  body  of  honourable  men,  and  which,  in  case  of  un- 
forseen  misfortune — as  robbery,  shipwreck,  or  the  like — • 
enables  him  to  find  assistance  among  his  Brethren,  till  he 
has  had  time  to  recover  himself,  and  to  draw  from  his 
own  talents  means  for  his  subsistence ;  or,  if  he  is  in  a 
strange  land,  and  has  resources  in  his  own  country,  till 
he  cq,n  obtain  from  thence  what  he  needs  to  enable  him 
to  pursue  the  object  he  has  in  view. 

V.  The  pleasure  of  recognizing  Brethren,  without  ever 
having  met  them  before,  even  in  a  foreign  country,  of 
whose  language  we  are  ignorant,  and  that  by  means  oi 
a  language  and  signs  universally  employed  in  the  Order; 
a  language  and  signs  which,  at  the  same  time,  serve  to 
distinguish  a  Brother  from  a  man  who  would  falsely 
assume  the  title. 


ORDER.    OF    FllEEMASONS.  41 

VI.  The  opportunity  of  learning,  in  a  very  short  time, 
the  signs  and  expressions  which  constitute  this  sort  of 
universal  language — a  resource  which  suffices  to  make 
us  recognized  and  understood  in  any  part  of  the  world 
where  Brethren  of  the  Order  are  to  be  found,  although 
in  a  country  with  whose  language  we  are  unacquainted. 

VII.  A  still  more  general  advantage  is,  that  whilst,  in 
certain  respects,  the  unity  and  fraternity  extend  no 
farther  than  to  Brethren  of  the  Order,  we  profess,  at  the 
same  time,  to  aid  and  succour  all  other  men,  so  far  as  our 
means  permit,  without  distinction  of  religion  or  country, 
in  proportion  to  the  necessities  of  the  unfortunate. 

VIII.  Lastly,  the  duties  most  obligatory  upon  us  are, 
1.  The  practice  of  our  duties  towards  God,  each  according 
the  general  prescriptions  of  Christianity,  and,  in  particular, 
those  of  the  Christian  communion  to  which  we  severally 
belong.  2.  An  inviolable  fidelity  towards  the  govern- 
ment, whether  as  native  or  adopted  citizens,  or  as  merely 
residents  in  the  state,  enjaying  public  safety  under 
shadow  of  its  protection.  3.  The  love  and  care  of  our 
own  families.  4.  A  charity  ever  ready  to  do  good  to  our 
neighbour,  under  which  title  we  comprehend,  as  taught 
by  Christianity,  all  mankind,  our  enemies  not  excepted. 

CONCLUSION. 

From  all  I  have  just  said,  I  proceed  to  draw  .two  con- 
sequences. First,  That  to  cast  blame,  or  odious  sus- 
picions, or  calumnies,  whether  with  regard  to  religion  or 
to  the  fidelity  which  every  one  owes  to  the  government 
under  which  he  lives,  upon  an  Order  that  has  never  given 
the  least  occasion  for  them,  is  to  sin  against  the  laws  of 
charity,  of  justice,  and  of  duty  ;  and,  secondly,  that  those 
who  withhold  their  approbation  from  the  Order,  because 
they  are  ignorant  of  its  secret,  ought  at  least  to  go  no 
farther,  and  to  suspend  their  judgment,  were  it  only 
from  the  consideration,  that  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that 
so  many  excellent  men  would  choose  to  build  upon  a 
chimera,  and,  for  a  brief  period,  to  adopt  vain,  useless,  or 
dangerous  principles ;  and  all  for  the  single  purpose  of 
distinguishing  themselves  from  the  rest  of  mankind,  and 
imposing  on  the  public,  after  having  been  themselves  the 
first  deceived. 


SOME    ACCOUNT 


THE    SCHISM 


WHICH  TOOK  PLACE   DURING   THE   LAST   CENTURY 


AMONGST   THE 


FREE  AND  ACCEPTED  MASONS 

IN    ENGLAND, 


SHOWING   THE   PRESUMED   ORIGIN   OF 


THE    ROYAL    ARCH   DEGREE; 


IN   A   LETTER   TO 

ROBERT  T.  CRUCEFIX,  LL.D., 

GRAND    MASTER    OF    S.  G.  I.  G.    FOR    ENGLAND    AND    WALES;     PAST    S.  W.    OF    TH« 

GRAND    LODGE    OF   MASSACHUSETTS,    AND    PAST    G.  D.    OF   THE 

UNITED    GRAND    LODGE    OF    ENGLAND. 


BY  THE 

REV.  GEO.  OLIVER,  D.D., 

S.  G.  I.  G.  330  ; 

PAST    D.  O.  M.    OF   THE    GRAND    LODGE    OF   MASSACHUSETTS,   ETC.,    ETC. 


NEW  YORK : 

JNO.  W.  LEONARD  &  CO.,  AMERICAN  MASONIC  AGENCY. 
1855. 


"  Alas  !  that  e'er  a  cloud  should  rise, 
To  dim  the  glories  of  thy  name ; 
Or  little  jealousies  divide 
The  souls  by  kindred  vows  allied. 
But  see !  while  thus  our  rites  we  blend, 
The  mingled  sacrifice  ascend. 
And  borne  to  heaven  in  one  united  flame 
Chase  every  ling'riug  shadow  from  the  skies." 

Waller  Eodwell  Wright 

"Previ<-)ua  to  the  commencement  of  the  eighteenth  century,  the  Royal  Ai-ch 
has  not  oeen  ti-aced  with  any  plausibility.  But  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  some  one 
will  take  up  the  subject;  for  if  the  Royal  Arch  can  be  proved  to  have  been  in- 
vented so  lately  even  as  two  hundred  years  ago,  it    must  be  considered  as  a 

modern  degree If  it  be  really  ancient,  the  records  of  one  or  more  of 

its  many  Lodges  or  Chapters  may  establish  its  long  existence  in  England  as 
easily  as  in  the  case  of  St.  John's  Masonry.    But,  whatever  be  the  result,  let  the 
iflvestigation  be  conducted  with  accuracy,  and  a  desire  to  clear  up  the  truti." 
Freemasons'  Quarterly  Review 


Stereotyped  by 

HOLMAN  4  GRAY,  NEW  YORK. 


Printed  and  Bound  by 

BRENNAN,    LODISVILLE,    KY. 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


Since  writing  the  following  letter,  I  have  been  favoured  by  Brother 
Willoughby,  of  Birkenhead,  with  a  sight  of  a  very  old  floor-cloth 
painted  on  silk,  belonging  to  a  Royal  Arch  Chapter  in  the  city  of 
Chester,  and  used  only  a  very  few  years  after  the  degree  was  admitted 
into  the  system  of  constitutional  Masonry.  This  ancient  document 
— (size  22  inches  by  18  inches) — which  I  have  thought  of  sufficient 
importance  to  present  to  my  readers  in  a  lithograph,  offers  a  confirm- 
ation of  the  opinion  expressed  in  the  ensuing  pages  respecting  the 
transfer  of  the  latter  portion  of  the  third  degree  to  the  Royal  Arch. 
Here  we  have  an  arch  and  keystone,  the  latter  not  di-awn,  but  remain- 
ing in  its  place.  The  sun  darting  its  rays  obliquely  into  the  arch, 
needs  no  explanation.  Upon  an  arched  fillet  in  the  centre  are  the 
words  £:N  APXH  EN  AOFOI  ;  "  In  the  beginning  was  the  Word ;" 
and  beneath,  in  the  centre  of  the  floor-cloth,  a  broad  circle  contain- 
ing the  interlaced  triangles  and  a  central  sun,  to  represent  the  mys- 
terious Name  or  Word.  Below,  in  an  inferior  situation,  on  three 
fillets,  are  the  words,  Solomon,  King  of  Israel ;  Hiram,  King  of  Tyre  ; 
and  Hiram,  the  widow's  son,  at  length,  in  the  Hebrew  character. 
Several  masonic  emblems  which  were  formerly  attached  to  the  third 
degree,  are  disposed  in  order;  viz.,  the  golden  candlestick,  the  table 
>f  shew-bread,  the  pot  of  manna  and  of  incense,  Aaron's  rod,  &c.,  all 
of  which  were  appendages  to  the  Tabernacle,  and  typical  of  the 
Christian  dispensation. 

The  Christian  fathers  interpreted  these  symbolical  appendages 
thus : — the  golden  candlestick  signified  Christ,  as  the  time  Light  by 
which  his  church  is  enlightened.  Thus  Gregory,  in  Ezek.,  Hom.  vi., 
says,  "No  one  can  be  understood  by  the  candlestick  but  the  Saviour 
of  mankind."  And  Bede  adds,  "The  shaft  of  the  candlestick  is 
symboHcal  of  Christ,  the  head  of  the  church."  And  Ferus  more 
expressly  affirms,  that  "Christ  is  the  candlestick,  who  is  the  sup- 
porter of  the  church."  It  will  be  unnecessary  to  notice  the  inac- 
curacy of  the  number  of  fights  in  the  candlestick  before  us.  The 
table  of  shew-bread  symbolized  the  family  of  Christ,  nourished  and 
fed  by  him.  The  bread  typified  the  true  bread  of  fife,  Christ  Jesus; 
the  number  of  loaves,  the  whole  Israel  of  God  who  are  fed  by  his 


11  ADVERTISEMENT, 

word;  and  by  tlie  crown  of  the  table  is  signified  the  hope  of  ever- 
lasting life,  where  we  shall  sit  down  at  the  table  of  Christ  in  heaven. 
The  pot  of  manna  was  an  emblem  of  Christ,  as  the  giver  of  true  food 
for  our  souls ;  and  Aaron's  rod  that  budded,  was  a  type  of  Christ's 
resurrection,  whose  body  revived,  and  as  it  were  flourished  out  of 
the  grave.  The  censor  of  incense,  was  also  a  type  of  Christ,  through 
whom  we  offer  up  our  prayers ;  and  the  burning  incense  denotes  the 
prayers  of  holy  men :  for  David  said,  "  Let  my  prayer  be  as  incense," 
(Ps.  cxli.,  2).  In  the  floor-cloth  the  pot  of  incense  is  surrounded  by 
a  halo  of  fight,  to  show  that  Christ  is  that  covering  cloud  under 
whose  shadow  we  are  defended  from  the  heat  and  storms  of  tempta- 
tion. 

Now,  the  very  existence  of  these  emblems  in  a  Royal  Arch  floor- 
cloth, to  which  degree  they  are  incongruous,  and  not  in  any  respect 
appficable,  betrays  the  source  from  whence  the  degree  was  drawn. 
And  hence  it  was  that  Brother  Duiickerley,  and  others,  who  grafted 
the  degree  on  to  modern  Masonry,  very  judiciously  weeded  these  em- 
blems from  it,  and  restored  them  to  the  third  degree,  whence  they  had 
been  inconsiderately  divorced,  to  the  manifest  injury  of  both ;  and  a 
copious  explanation  of  them  was  incorporated  into  the  third  lecture, 
that  the  application  might  be  legitimatized,  and  their  direct  reference 
permanently  fixed  into  the  degree,  so  that  no  further  doubt  might 
exist  about  their  true  masonic  reference.  I  place  some  stress  upon 
this  point,  because  this  primitive  floor-cloth  is  an  existing  fact  which 
it  would  be  difficult  to  overturn.  I  am  further  inclined  to  think  that 
the  fabricators  of  the  Royal  Arch  intended  it  to  be  a  Christian  degree, 
not  only  for  the  above  reasons,  but  because  they  adopted  the  Chris- 
tian emblems  s^  and  |I|  as  its  legitimate  insignia.  And  I  have  in 
my  possession  a  fragment  of  an  old  Royal  Arch  lecture,  which  con- 
tains the  following  passage  : — "A  Royal  Arch  Chapter  is  called  the 
Grand  and  Royal  Lodge,  in  verification  of  the  prophecy  of  Jacob 
that  the  sceptre  should  not  depart  from  Judah,  nor  a  lawgiver  from 
between  his  feet  until  Shiloh  come."  And  again — "The  three 
Great  Lights  represent  the  Subfime  Word  in  three  different  points 
of  view ;  but  more  particularly  that  superior  light  which  shone  forth 
in  the  Gospel  Revelation,  when  the  mystery  of  the  Trinity  was  pub- 
licly displayed  at  the  baptism  of  Christ."  And  in  another  place  we 
have  this  remarkable  explanation: — "The  reason  why  we  enter  the 
Chapter  upon  the  Holy  Bible  and  the  interlacing  equilateral  tri- 
angles, refers  to  the  Roll  of  the  law  which  was  found  at  the  building 
of  the  second  temple.  This  roll  represented  the  Old  Testament ;  and 
the  equilateral  triangles  the  New  Testament,  or,  in  other  words,  the 


ADVERTISEMENT.  Ill 

Trinity  in  Unity."     And  besides  tliis,  ki  an  original  formula  of  the 
Order,  we  find  the  following  passage  : 

"  In  the  beginning  was  the  Word, 
And  the  Word  was  with  God, 
And  the  Word  was  God." 

A  dissertation  on  the  three  diagrams  under  the  centre  arch  would 
occupy  more  space  than  can  be  conveniently  assigned  to  it  here ;  and, 
therefore,  I  must  leave  the  interpretation  of  them,  for  the  present,  to 
every  Brother's  own  judgment.  At  some  future  period,  I  may  be 
induced  to  renew  the  subject,  for  this  primitive  floor-cloth  is  of  suf- 
ficient importance  to  merit  a  more  extended  illustration  than  my 
present  limits  will  allow. 

G.  0. 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  ENGLISH  ROYAL  ARCH, 


My  dear  Sir  and  Brother, 

Your  last  letter  to  me  was  particularly  interesting,  and 
I  am  not  without  hope  that  I  shall  be  able  to  satisfy  your 
enquiries  on  the  abstruse  subject  of  the  origin  of  the 
English  Royal  Arch.  I  need  not  tell  you  that  there  are 
in  Freemasonry  several  problems  sub  juclice  which  have 
exercised  the  ingenuity  of  the  Brethren  in  all  ages  of  its 
existence,  as  an  institution  professedly  speculative.  Such 
as,  whether  Freemasonry  was  introduced  into  Europe  by 
the  gypsies?^ — Whether  it  can  be  correctly  identified 
with   Rosicrucianism  ?^ — Whether   it   be,  or  how  it  is, 


'  Mr,  Clincli  boldly  aflSrmsthe  fact.  The  opinion  is  repeated  in  De 
Pauw's  Egypt.  This  author  observes.  "  Every  person  who  was  not 
guilty  of  some  pubHc  crime  could  obtain  admission  to  the  lesser  mys- 
teries. Those  vagabonds  called  Egyptian  priests  in  Glreece  and 
Italy,  required  considerable  sums  for  initiation  ;  and  their  successors 
the  gypsies  practice  similar  mummeries  to  obtain  money.  And  thus 
was  Freemasonry  introduced  into  Europe." 

^  There  is  an  essay  in  the  London  Magazine  for  January,  1824,  to 
prove  the  identity  of  Freemasonry  and  Eosicrucianism,  and  their 
modern  origin  ;  and  the  writer  concludes  that  "  though  Eosicrucianism 
is  not  Freemasonry,  yet  the  latter  borrowed  its  form  from  the  former." 
An  American  Anti-Mason  endeavours  to  propagate  the  same  opinion. 
He  says,  "the  Eosicrucian  mania  sprung  up  in  G-ermany,  A.  d.  1610, 
and  nearly  overspread  Christendom.  This  puff  of  indefinable  extra- 
vagance originated  from  the  writings  of  John  Valentine  Andrea,  a 
celebrated  theologian  of  Wurtembui-g,  who  amused  himself  with  tales 
of  spiritual  wonder,  and  of  mystical  glory,  as  a  literary  hoax,  in  the 
style  of  Baron  Munchausen's  wonderful  adventures.  The  visionaiy 
minds  of  that  day  took  his  work  in  earnest.  They  claimed  for  the 
Eosy  Cross  philosophy  what  is  now  particularly  claimed  for  Free- 
masonry." It  is  believed  in  Germany  that  Freemasonry  originated 
with  the  Eose  Croix.  The  Baron  de  Gleichen  says  that  the  Masons 
were  united  with  the  Eose  Croix  in  England  under  King  Arthur.  I 
suppose  he  considers  the  Knights  of  the  Eound  Table  to  be  of  this 
Order.  The  Baron  de  Westerode  gives  as  his  opinion  that  the  Eose 
Croix  was  promulgated  in  the  eastern  parts  of  Eui-ope  in  1188,  for  tiie 


52  ORIGIN    OF    THE 

connected  with  Templaiy?^ — Whether  the  numerous 
foreign  degrees,  called  Ecossais,  were  really  derived  from 
Scotland?^  &c.     And,  as  the  solution  of  these  problems 

propagation  of  Clu-istiauity,  and  that  it  was  received  in  Scotland 
luider  the  ■appellation  of  the  Order  of  Eastern  Masons,  and  contained 
tlie  secrets  of  all  the  occult  sciences;  and  that  it  found  its  way  into 
England  iu  1196,  that  it  consisted  of  tliree  degrees,  and  its  emblems 
were  a  pair  of  golden  compasses  suspended  from  a  white  ribbon,  as  a 
symbol  of  purity  and  wisdom :  the  sun,  the  moon,  a  double  triangle 
with  the  letter  x ;  and  the  Brethren  wore  a  gold  ring,  with  the  ini- 
tials I.  A.  A.  T.,  (Ignis,  Aer,  A.qua,  Terra). 

^  Eamsay,  Hundo,  and  many  other  innovators,  founded  their  sys- 
tems on  the  postulate  that  Freemasonry  was  a  branch  of  Templary. 
BaiTuel  was  very  positive  on  this  point,  and  all  the  arguments  which 
he  has  used  to  viUfy  Freemasonry  in  his  History  of  Jacobinism,  are 
expressly  founded  upon  it. 

*  It  is  curious  to  observe  how  diversified  the  seventy  degrees  of 
the,  so  called,  Scotch  Masonrjr  are  ;  and  I  subjoin  a  catalogue  of 
them  for  the  information  of  the  curious  Mason.  Novice  Ecossais; 
Maitre  Ecossais ;  Parfait  Ecossais  ;  Parfait  Maitre  Anglais  Ecossais  ; 
Ecossais  Parisien  ;  Rite  Ecossais ;  Ecossais  Anglais  ou  des  Freres 
alnes  ;  Ecossais  Eouge  ;  Ecossais  d' Angleterre  ;  Ecossais  de  Lyon ; 
Grand  Ecossais ;  Ecossais  Fran^ais ;  Chevalier  Ecossais  ;  Ecossais 
Triuitaire ;  Parfait  Ecossais ;  Ecossais  Trinitaire,  ou  Globe  des 
Grands  Maitres;  Commandeurs  du  Temple ;  Ecossais  Trinitaire,  ou 
puissant  Grand  Maitre  de  I'Ordre  de  la  Sainte  Trinite ;  Ecossais  Su- 
blime Anglais  ;  Ecossais  d'Alcidony  ;  Ecossais  de  MontpelUer  ;  Ecos- 
sais de  Paris  ;  Ecossais  de  Dunkerque  ;  Ecossais  Egyptien;  Ecossais 
de  Prusse ;  Ecossais  de  Messine  ;  Ecossais  de  Naples  ou  de  Sicile ; 
Ecossais  d' Angers  ;  Ecossais  de  Clermont ;  Ecossais  Architecte  par- 
fait ;  Ecossais  de  I'Anneau ;  Ecossais  d'Heredom  ;  Grand  Architecte 
Ecossais  ;  Grand  Architecte  Anglais  Ecossais  ;  Ecossais  fideles  ou  de 
la  Vieille  Bru;  Grand  Patriarche  Ecossais  ;  Grand  Ecossais  de  Saint 
Andre  d'Ecosse;  Ecossais  de  Saint  Andre  d'Ecosse;  Ecossais  de 
Saint  Andre  du  Chardon ;  Grand  Ecossais  Patriarche  ;  Grand  Ecos- 
sais des  Patriarches  ;  Illustre  Architecte  Ecossais ;  Subhme  Ecossais 
de  la  G.  L.  du  Prince  Edward ;  Sublime  Ecossais  ou  la  Jerusalem 
celeste  ;  Ecossais  de  St.  George  ;  Ecossais  Purificateur ;  Ecossais  de 
Toulouse ;  Ecossais  Vert ;  Ecossais  Sublime  Purificateur  ;  Ecossais 
des  Quarante ;  Ecossais  des  petits  appartements  ;  Ecossais  des  fils 
atnes  ;  Ecossais  de  Franville  ;  Ecossais  de  la  Quarantaine  ;  Ecossais 
des  trois  j.j.j.  (incounus) ;  Grand  Ecossais  ou  Grand  Elu  ;  Rite  Ecos- 
sais philosophique ;  Grand  Ecossais  des  Croisades  ;  Ecossais  des 
Freres  aines,  ou  du  Triple  Triangle ;  Ecossais  d'Hiram ;  Grand 
Maitre  Ecossais;  Ecossais  de  la  Lege  du  Prince  Edward  G.  M. ; 
Ecossais  Levite  et  Martyr ;  Grand  Ecossais  de  Yalachie,  de  Copen- 
hague  et  de  Stockholm,  ou  Grade  de  I'Interieur ;  Ecossais  de  la 
Voute  sacree  de  Jacques  VI. ;  Ecossais  des  Loges  miHtaires;  Ecos- 
sais de  Saint  Andre  ;  Ecossais  de  Saint  Andre,  ou  quatre  fois  res- 
pectable Maitre  ;  Ecossais  de  la  perfection ;  Dame  Sublime  Ecossais  ; 
Ecossais  de  I'Hospice  du  Mont  Thabor. 


ENGLISH    ROYAL    ARCH.  3 

depends  upon  evidence  which  is  inaccessible,  it  admits  of 
considerable  doubt  whether  they  will  ever  be  elucidated 
with  such  absolute  precision  as  to  merit  universal  cre- 
dence. 

But  the  most  important  question  which  remains  open 
at  the  present  day,  is  that  about  which  you  a.ppear  desir- 
ous of  my  opinion,  viz.,  the  true  origin  of  the  English 
Koyal  Arch  degree.  The  enquiry  has  excited  much 
attention,  and  a  great  anxiety  appears  to  prevail  amongst 
the  Companions  of  tlie  Order  to  ascertain  truly  the  fact 
whether  it  be  an  ancient  or  a  modern  rite.  The  Ahiman 
Rezon  says  it  has  been  held  "  from  time  immemorial ;" 
but  this  is  rather  an  indefinite  expression,  and  somewhat 
difficult  to  comprehend.  Some  have  asserted  more  deter- 
minately  that  the  Templars  brought  it  from  the  Holy 
Land ;  others  that  it  was  attached  as  a  pendant  to 
Templary  in  the  sixteenth  century ;  and  some  believe 
that  it  was  unknown  before  the  year  1780.  There  exists 
sufficient  evidence  to  disprove  all  these  conjectures,  and 
to  fix  the  era  of  its  introduction  to  a  period  which  is 
coeval  with  the  memorable  schism  amongst  the  English 
Masons  about  the  middle  of  the  last  century.  To  ascer- 
tain the  causes  which  gradually  led  to  its  establishment, 
we  must  take  a  brief  view  of  the  leading  circumstances 
attending  that  division  of  the  Fraternity  into  two  great 
and  independent  bodies. 

It  is  commonly  believed  that  the  prevalence  of  schism 
in  any  institution  is  the  fruitful  parent  of  many  evils, 
which  cannot  fail  to  detract  from  its  purity  and  excel- 
lence. And  so  it  is  ;  but  the  evil  is  not  without  its  por- 
tion of  good.  Experience  teaches  that  if  the  members  of 
an  institution  become  apathetic,  nothing  is  so  like'y  to 
rouse  them  to  a  sense  of  duty  as  the  existence  of  conflict- 
ing opinions,  which  produce  a  separation  of  interests,  and 
divide  them  into  two  adverse  sections ;  each  of  which, 
like  the  self-multiplying  polypus,  will  frequently  become 
as  strong  and  prosperous  as  the  parent  institution.  This 
is  peculiarly  the  case  in  religion.  Separation,  and  the 
establishment  of  new  sects,  have  generally  been  a  prolific 
source  of  proselytism ;  and  many  a  Christian  may  trace 
his  conversion  from  a  state  resembling  the  darkest  hea- 
thenism to  the  spirit  of  party,  and  the  curiosity  of  search- 
ing for  something  new,  stimulating,  and  attractive.     In 


4  ORIGIN    OF    THE 

Freemasonry,  from  the  same  causes,  former  feelings  are 
revived  and  brought  into  operation,  which  enliven  the 
lukewarm  zeal,  and  convert  the  most  quiescent  member 
into  an  active  partisan.  Like  a  gentle  breeze  directed  on 
the  embers  of  an  expiring  fire,  schism  fans  the  dying 
apathy  of  the  inert,  and  gives  a  new  impetus  to  his 
thoughts,  words,  and  actions. 

Some  such  results  as  these  attended  the  schism  which 
agitated  the  Fraternity  of  Free  and  Accepted  Masons 
during  the  greater  part  of  the  eighteenth  century.  The 
jealousies  which  it  excited,  and  the  divisions  and  heart- 
burnings which  it  produced,  have  now  subsided.  Thirty 
years  of  peaceful  union  have  extinguished  all  that  un- 
appeasable hostility  which  marked  its  progress ;  and  the 
historian  may  now  venture  on  the  details  without  incur- 
ring the  hazard  of  exciting  an  angry  feeling  either  in  one 
party  or  the  other,  by  faithfully  unfolding  the  circum- 
stances that  gave  rise  to  the  secession,  and  attended  its 
course  till  it  was  ultimatly  absorbed  in  the  great  body 
of  English  Freemasonry,  at  the  re-union  in  1813. 

To  make  the  subject  intelligible,  it  will  be  necessary  to 
revert  to  the  earliest  times  of  Masonry  in  England.  Passing 
over  the  Druids,  and  the  G-rand  Mastership  of  St.  Alban, 
which  are  unconnected  with  the  question  at  issue,  we  find 
in  an  old  masonic  manuscript  the  following  important 
passage: — "Though  the  ancient  records  of  the  Brother- 
hood in  England  were  many  of  them  destroyed  or  lost  in 
the  wars  of  the  Saxons  and  Danes,  yet  King  Athelstan, 
the  grandson  of  King  Alfred  the  Great,  a  mighty  archi- 
tect, the  first  anointed  King  of  England,  and  who  trans- 
lated the  Holy  Bible  into  the  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,  a,nd 
brought  with  them  the  Charges  and  regulations  of  the 
Lodges,  preserved  since  the  Roman  times ;  who  also  pre- 
vailed with  the  King  to  improve  the  Constitution  of  the 
English  Lodges  according  to  the  foreign  model.  That 
the  said  King's  brother.  Prince  Edwin,  being  taught 
Masonry,  and  taking  upon  him  the  charges  of  a  Master 
Mason,  for  the  love  he  had  to  the  said  Craft,  and  the 
honourable  principles  whereon  it  is  grounded,  purchased 
a  free  charter  of  King  Athelstan  for  the  Masons;  having 


ENGLISH    ROYAL    ARCH.  '# 

a  correction  among  themselves,  as  it  was  anciently  ex- 
pressed, or  a  freedom  and  power  to  regulate  themselves, 
to  amend  what  might  happen  amiss,  arid  to  Jiold  a  yearly 
communication  and  general  assembly.  That  accordingly 
Prince  Edwin  summoned  all  the  Masons  in  the  realm  to  meet 
him  ill  a  congregation  at  York,  who  came  and  composed 
a  general  Lodge,  of  which  he  was  Grrand  Master;  and 
having  brought  with  them  all  the  writings  and  records 
extant,  some  in  Greek,  some  in  Latin,  some  in  French, 
and  other  languages,  from  the  contents  thereof  that 
assembly  did  frame  the  Constitution  and  Charges  of  an 
English  Lodge,  and  made  a  law  to  preserve  and  observe 
the  same  in  all  time  coming." 

From  this  document  it  is  evident  that  Freemasonry  in 
this  island  was  first  formally  planted  at  York,  which 
hence  bears  the  same  relation  to  English  as  Kilwnming 
does  to  Scottish  Masonry,  although  its  introduction  into 
North  Britain  was  two  centuries  later.^  A  Grand  Lodge 
was  established  at  York,  under  the  charter  of  Edwin, 
which  maintained  its  functions,  and  asserted  its  suprema- 
cy down  to  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century.  The 
name  of  an  ancient  York  Mason  was  considered  honoura- 
ble in  all  ages ;  and  the  precedency  has  been  conceded  to 
it,  by  both  the  sister  countries,  as  being  of  greater  an- 
tiquity than  the  KiKvinning  Masons  of  Scotland,  or  the 
Carrickfergus  ones  of  Hibernia.  There  is  no  evidence  of 
a  general  Grand  Lodge  being  held  in  any  other  place 
during  the  whole  of  the  above  period,  nor  has  its  autho- 
rity ever  been  made  a  subject  of  doubt  or  dispute.  It  is 
true  its  records  have  not  been  published,  owing  probably 

*  It  is  probable  that  Masonry  may  have  been  introduced  into  Scot- 
land about  the  same  time  as  Christianity,  although  there  are  great 
objections  to  that  theory ;  for  in  general  the  early  buildings  were  not 
of  stone,  but  of  wood  and  wicker-work,  and  such  as  were  of  stone 
were  extremely  rude,  and  displayed  no  great  knoAvledge  of  the  Craft. 
I  am,  therefore,  disposed  to  think  that  scientific  Masonry,  Freema- 
sonry, or  anything  worthy  of  being  dignified  with  the  name  of  archi- 
tectm-e,  was  not  introduced  into  that  country  tiU  the  twelfth  century. 
But  even  though  Masonry  may  have  been  introduced  at  the  same 
time  as  the  Culdees.  I  cannot  suppose  that  the  Culdees  were  Free- 
masons ;  and  great  injury  has  been  done  to  the  Order  by  attributing 
to  it  much  not  only  incapable  of  proof,  but  of  which  there  are  strong 
grounds  for  suspecting  the  reverse.  It  appears  to  me  that  we  have 
no  proof  of  Freemasonry  having  esisted  in  Scotland  before  the  year 
1126. 


b  ORIGIN    OF    THE 

to  the  rash  and  mistaken  zeal  of  some  of  its  grand  officers 
in  1720,  who  destroyed  many  of  them,  to  prevent  what 
they  aifected  to  consider  an  act  of  desecration.*^  But 
there  is  sufiicient  proof  that  its  proceedings  were  uniform 
and  regular,  and  the  names  of  its  Grand  Masters  are 
before  us  in  the  proj^er  order  of  succession. 

During  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  the  government 
of  the  country  attempted  to  interfere  with  its  meetings, 
but  v/ithout  success.  The  queen  was  jealous  of  all 
secrets  in  which  she  was  ^nable  to  participate,  and  she 
deputed  an  armed  force,  on  St.  John's  day,  in  December, 
1561,  to  break  up  the  annual  G-rand  Lodge.  The  Grand 
Master,  Sir  Thomas  Sackville,  received  the  Queen's  offi- 
cers with  great  civility,  telling  them  that  nothing  could 
give  him  greater  pleasure  than  to  admit  them  into  the 
Grand  Lodge,  and  communicate  to  them  the  secrets  of 
the  Order.  He  persuaded  them  to  be  initiated,  and  this 
convinced  them  that  the  system  was  founded  on  the 
sublime  ordinances  of  morality  and  religion.  On  their 
return,  they  assured  the  Queen  that  the  business  of  Free- 
masonry was  the  cultivation  of  morality  and  science, 
harmony  and  peace;  and  that  politics  and  religion  were 
alike  forbidden  to  be  discussed  in  their  assemblies.  The 
Queen  was  perfectly  satisfied,  and  never  attempted  to 
disturb  them  again. 

The  Fraternity  was  well  governed  by  this  Grand  Lodge, 
which  held  its  communications  annually,  and  sometimes 
oftener ;  and  the  Fraternity  at  large  were  eligible  to  as- 
semble in  deliberation  for  the  general  benefit  of  the  Craft. 
At  these  meetings  the  G-rand  Masters  and  Officers  were 
installed,  and  other  routine  business  transacted.  This 
old  Grand  Lodge  was  the  conservator  of  the  primitive 
Gothic  Constitutions  and  Charges ;  and  under  its  benign 
patronage  the  works  of  art  were  executed  which  reflect 
such  high  credit  on  the  Masons  of  the  middle  ages. 

The  establishment  of  a  Grand  Lodge  in  London  for  the 
southern  division  of  the  island,  in  1717,  did  not  interfere 

6  Ware,  in  his  Essay  in  the  Archseologia,  says  that  Nicholas  S-tone 
destroyed  many  valuable  papers  belonging  to  the  Society  of  Free- 
masons; and  he  adds,  "perhaps  his  master,  Inigo  Jones,  thought  tliat 
the  new  mode,  though  dependent  on  taste,  was  independant  on  sci- 
ence ;  and,  like  the  calif  Omar,  that  what  was  agreeable  to  the  new 
faith  was  useless,  and  that  what  was  not  ought  to  be  destroyed." 


ENGLISH    ROYAL    ARCH.  7 

with  its  proceedings;  and  the  two  Grand  Lodges  enter- 
tained a  mutual  good  understanding  towards  each  other 
for  many  years;  until  the  more  recent  establishment 
grew  powerful  by  the  accession  of  noble  and  learned 
persons  of  the  highest  rank ;  who,  being  under  the  ne- 
cessity of  having  a  permanent  town  residence  for  the 
convenience  of  attending  their  parliamentary  duties, 
found  no  difficulty  in  being  regularly  present  at  the 
quarterly  Grand  Lodges,  and  thus  conveyed  the  influence 
of  their  talents  arid  position  in  society  to  the  southern 
division  of  the  Order.  Their  example  augmented  the 
ranks  of  Masonry  in  the  provinces,  until  the  increase  of 
its  Lodges,  both  in  numbers  and  respectability,  in  every 
part  of  England,  was  so  rapid  and  uniform,  that  the 
Grand  Lodge  at  York  became  inert,  and  at  length  silently 
resigned  its  authority  into  the  hands  of  its  more  fortu- 
nate rival. 

This  appears  to  be  a  correct  view  of  the  case,  because 
the  Lodges  in  the  City  of  York  itself,  as  well  as  the 
entire  north  of  England,  have  for  many  years  practised 
the  mysteries  of  the  Craft  under  warrants  granted  by  the 
London  Grand  Lodge ;  and  are  governed  by  Provin- 
cial Grand  Masters  of  the  same  constitutional  appoint- 
ment. 

The  authority  of  the  York  Grand  Lodge  was  not, 
however,  superseded  without  a  feeling  of  jealousy  at  the 
usurpations  of  its  rival,  which  indiscreetly  committed  a 
few  instances  of  aggression  on  its  privileges  that  appear 
to  be  indefensible,  as  the  title  of  "Grand  Lodge  of  all 
England"  had  been  conceded  to  it,  while  the  London 
Fraternity  assumed  the  appellation  of  "  The  Grand  Lodge 
of  England."  Taking  advantage  of  an  unfortunate  dis- 
pute amongst  the  members  of  a  Lodge  at  York,  the 
southern  Grand  Lodge  encouraged  the  seceding  Brethren 
in  their  disobedience,  by  granting  them  a  warrant  to 
open  a  new  Lodge  under  its  constitutions,  in  the  city ; 
little  dreaming  how  soon  a  similar  secession  would  occur 
in  their  own  body.  This  encroachment  was  not  suiiered 
to  pass  without  expostulation  andjirotest  on  the  part  of 
the  ancient  Grand  Lodge,  which  contended  that  it  would 
have  been  more  in  accordance  with  the  genuine  princi- 
ples and  regulations  of  Masonry,  if  the  refractory  Brethren 
had  been  admonished,  and  recommended  to  apply  for  re- 


8  ORIGIN    OF    THE 

admission  into  the  Lodge  they  had  so  inconsiderately 
abandoned. 

This  aggression  having  been  attended  with  success, 
was  followed  up  in  1734,  during  the  Grrand  Mastership 
of  the  Earl  of  Crawford,  by  the  constitution  of  Lodges, 
the  issue  of  deputations,  and  the  appointment  of  Pro- 
vincial G-rand  Masters  for  Northumberland,  Lancashire, 
and  Durham;  all  within  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Grand 
Lodge  at  York.'  So  direct  an  invasion  of  its  ancient 
rights  was  highly  offensive ;  but  the  York  Masons,  finding 
themselves  too  feeble  to  stem  the  torrent,  after  an  in- 
effectual protest,  held  on  their  course  in  a  dignified  silence 
for  a  few  years;  and,  although  the  rights  of  their  Grand 
Lodge  were  superseded,  and  its  influence  weakened  by 
the  increasing  prosperity  of  its  rival,  continued  to  act  on 
their  own  independent  authority,  which  was  never  called 
into  question.  Even  after  the  dominion  of  the  London 
Grand  Lodge  became  indisputably  established,  and  it 
considered  itself  entitled  to  the  homage  of  the  whole 
island  south  of  the  river  Tweed,  the  one  old  Lodge  at 
York  was  always  excepted.^ 

About  this  time  commenced  that  notable  schism  which 
again  divided  the  English  Fraternity  into  two  separate 
and  independent  sections,  by  the  establishment  of  an- 
other G-rand  Lodge  in  London,  and  the  appointment  of 
a  new  G-rand  Master,  with  his  staff  of  officers.  It  will 
be  observed  in  limine,  that,  at  this  time,  private  Lodges 
did  not  possess  the  power  of  conferring  either  the  second 
or  third  degree,  whicli  was  a  privilege  reserved  by  the 
Grand  Lodge  for  its  own  peculiar  exercise ;  and  these 
degrees  were  given  as  the  reward  of  meritorious  Brethren, 
who  had  rendered  essential  services  to  the  Craft,  either 
by  their  learning,  talent,  or  activity ;  and  this  only  with 

''  Matthew  Ridley,  Esq.,  was  appointed  to  the  P.  G.  Mastership  of 
Northumberland ;  Edward  Entwistle,  Esq.,  to  that  of  Lancashire  ;  and 
Joseph  Laycock,  Esq.,  to  that  of  Durham.  And  the  London  G-rand 
Lodge  pronounced  that  all  the  Lodges  in  those  provinces  were  under 
its  authority. 

*  Thus  it  was  resolved,  during  the  Grand  Mastership  of  the  Earl  of 
Carnarvon,  afterwards  Duke  of  Chandos,  that  "All  Lodges  are  under 
the  patronage  of  our  Grand  Master  of  England,  except  the  old  Lodge 
in  York  city,  and  the  Lodges  of  Scotland,  Ireland,  France,  and  Italy, 
which,  aflfecting  independency,  are  under  their  own  Grand  Masters." 
—(Anderson's  Const.,  1738,  p.  196.) 


ENGLISH    ROYAL    ARCH.  9 

the  unanimous  consent  of  all  the  Brethren  assembled  in 
communication.  An  infringement  of  this  privilege  led 
to  very  serious  and  important  consequences. 

A  few  ambitious  Brethren,  who  were  ineligible  for 
these  Degrees,  prevailed  on  some  inconsiderate  Master 
Masons  to  open  an  illegal  Lodge,  and  to  pass,  and  raise 
them  to  the  sublime  Degree.  These  irregularities  having 
escaped  immediate  detection,  the  same  Brethren  pro- 
ceeded to  initiate  new  members  into  the  Order;  and 
attempted  to  invest  them  with  masonic  privileges.  A 
project  so  bold  and  unprecedented  could  not  elude  ulti- 
mate discovery.  The  newly  initiated  Masons,  proud  of 
their  acquisition,  applied,  in  the  character  of  visitors, 
for  admission  into  the  regular  Lodges,  when  their  pre- 
tensions were  speedily  unmasked,  and  the  authors  of  the 
imposition  were  called  on  to  vindicate  their  conduct 
before  the  Grand  Lodge.^  Complaints  were  preferred 
against  them  at  the  Quarterly  Communication  in  June, 
1739,  and  the  offending  Brethren  were  allowed  six 
months  to  prepare  their  defence.  After  a  full  investiga- 
tion and  proof  of  their  delinquency,  it  was  resolved  that 
"the  transgressors  should  be  pardoned  upon  their  sub- 
mission and  promises  of  future  good  behaviour."  It  was 
also  resolved,  that  "the  laws  shall  be  strictly  put  in  exe- 
cution against  all  Brethren  who  shall,  in  future,  counte- 
nance, connive,  or  assist  at  any  irregular  makings." 

The  delinquents,  though  pardoned,  appear  to  have 
been  highly  dissatisfied  with  this  decision,  which  they 
affected  to  consider  in  the  light  of  an  indirect  censure ; 
and  having  tasted  the  sweets  of  their  former  illicit  pro- 
ceedings, they  assumed  the  position  of  persecuted  Bre- 
thren, and  converted  the  resolutions  of  the  Grand  Lodge 
into  a  pretext  for  persisting  in  their  contumacy  ;  and  in 
open  violation  of  the  Constitutions,  they  continued  to 
meet  as  Masons  in  unauthorized  places,,  to  initiate,  pass, 
and  raise  candidates,  and  to  perform  all  the  functions  of 
a  warranted  Lodge,  under  the  plea  that  in  ancient  times 
a  sufficient  number  of  Masons  residing  wdthin  a  certain 
district,  with  the  consent  of  the  civil  magistrate,  were 
empowered  to  meet  for  the  purpose  of  making  Masons, 
and  practising  the  rites  of  Masonry,  without  warrant  of 

^  MS.  Penes  me. 


10  ORIGIN    OF    THE 

Constitution ;  because  the  privilege  was  inherent  in 
themselves  as  individual  Masons.  But  the  first  meeting, 
under  Anthony  Sayer,  had  agreed,  as  a  preliminary 
measure  towards  the  formation  of  a  Grand  Lodge,  and  to 
cement  its  power,  that  this  inherent  privilege  should  no 
longer-  exist.  And,  therefore,  it  was  resolved,  that  the 
privilege  of  assembling  as  Masons,  which  had  been 
hitherto  unrestricted,  should  be  vested  in  certain  Lodges 
or  assemblies  of  Masons  convened  in  certain  places;  and 
that  every  Lodge  to  be  hereafter  convened,  except  the 
four  old  Lodges  at  this  time  existing,  should  be  legally 
authorized  to  act,  by  a  warrant  from  the  Grand  Master 
for  the  time  being,  granted  to  certain  individuals,  by 
petition,  with  the  consent  and  approbation  of  the  Grand 
Lodge  in  communication;  and  that  iv if hout  such  warrant 
no  Lodge  should  hereafter  be  deemed  regular  or  constitu- 
tional.''^^^ 

The  seceding  Brethren  contended  that  the  above 
assembly  did  not  possess  the  power  to  pass  sucli  a  reso- 
lution, because  it  was  not  only  self-created,  but  defective 
in  numbers;  whereas,  "in  order  to  form  what  Masons 
mean  by  a  Grand  Lodge,  there  should  have  been  the 
Masters  and  Wardens  of  Jive  regular  Lodges,  that  is  to 
say,  five  Masters  and  ten  Wardens,  making  the  number 
of  installed  officers  fifteen.  This  is  so  well  known  to 
every  man  conversant  with  the  ancient  laws,  usages, 
customs,  and  ceremonies  of  Master  Masons,  that  it  is 
needless  to  say  more,  than  that  the  foundation  was  de- 
fective in  number,  and  consequently  defective  in  form 
and  capacity."^^  And  that,  although  they  called  the 
assembly  a  revival  of  the  Grand  Lodge,  it  was  a  gratuitous 
assumption  which  could  not  be  verified  by  facts ;  because 
"  had  it  been  a  revival  of  the  ancient  Craft  only,  without 

10  "This  regulation  was  foimcl  necessary,"  says  a  Continental  wri- 
ter, "because  that  here  and  there  private  Lodges  were  formed  by  false 
and  unworthy  Brethren,  who  used  a  ritual  of  their  own,  and  pretended 
to  make  men  Freemasons,  for  the  sake  of  their  money.  Some 
countries,  particularly  Denmark  and  Prussia,  have  passed  laws  that 
no  Lodge  shall  be  held  or  formed  in  any  part  of  their  dominions 
without  having  first  obtained  a  warrant  from  one  of  the  Grand  Lodges. 
In  Gi-ermany,  there  are  a  few  of  the  ancient  Lodges  which  are  inde- 
pendent, and  which  have  not  joined  any  Grand  Lodge,  but  which,  on 
account  of  their  age,  are  acknowledged  as  regular  Lodges  by  all  the 
otiiOTS."  "  Ahiman  Rezon,  p.  viii.,  Ed.  1813. 


ENGLISH    ROYAL    ARCH.  11 

innovations  or  alterations  of  any  kind,  the  Free  and 
Accepted  Masons  in  Ireland,  Scotland,  the  East  and  West 
Indies,  and  America,  where  no  change  has  yet  happened, 
nay,  Freemasons  in  general,  would  agree  in  secret 
language  and  ceremonies  with  the  members  of  the 
modern  Lodges.  But  daily  experience  points  out  the 
contrary;  and  this  is  an  incontrovertible  proof  of  the 
falsehood  of  the  supposed  revival. "^^ 

These  arguments  and  reflections,  however,  were  un- 
heeded by  the  Grand  Lodge,  or  considered  as  serving 
only  to  aggravate  i\\e  offence;  and  stringent  i-esolutions 
were  passed  to  check  their  proceedings,  which  produced 
only  a  temporary  effect ;  for  several  Lodges  having  been 
erased  from  the  lists  for  refusing  to  attend  the  Grand 
Master  in  Quarterly  Communication,  pursuant  to  notices 
repeatedly  served  on  them  for  that  purpose,  the  members 
united  themselves  with  the  seceders,  and  succeeded  in 
forming  a  body  of  sufficient  strength  to  cast  off  their 
allegiance  openly  to  the  metropolitan  Grand  Lodge.  As 
there  had  been,  before  this  period,  some  differences  be- 
tween the  Grand  Lodges  of  London  and  York,  the 
schismatics  assumed  the  name  and  authority  of  the 
latter,  although  it  is  doubtful  whether  that  body  gave 
any  sanction  to  their  illegal  proceedings.  Laurie'^  asserts 
that  the  sanction  was  only  "pretended;"  and  Noorth- 
ouck  positively  says,  that  they  had  no  encouragement 
whatever  from  the  Grand  Lodge  at  York.  His  words 
are — "Under  a  fictitious  sanction  of  the  ancient  York  con- 
stitution, which  was  dropped  at  the  revival  of  the  Gfrand 
Lodge  in  1717,  they  presumed  to  claim  the  right  of  con- 
stituting Lodges.  Some  Brethren  at  York  continued, 
indeed,  to  act  under  their  original  constitution ;  bat  the 
irregular  Masons  in  London  never  received  any  patronage 
from  them."^'^ 

The  constitutional  Grand  Lodge  now  took  the  matter 
into  its  most  serious  consideration,  and  attempted  to 
bring  the  refractory  Brethren  to  a  proper  sense  of  duty, 
that  they  might  return  to  their  allegiance,  and  be  re- 
ceived with  affection  and  forgiveness.  Failing  in  this 
endeavour,  it  resolved  at  length  to  adopt  the  expedient, 
apparently  rendered  necessary  by  the  emergency,  but 

«  Ahiman  Rezon,  p.  ix.  "  Page  116.  '*  Const.,  p.  240. 

2 


12  ORIGIN    OF    THE 

extremely  ill-judged,  of  introducing  a  slight  alteration 
into  the  system,  which  might  have  the  effect  of  detect- 
ing the  schismatics,  and  thus  excluding  them  from  the 
orthodox  Lodges.'^  The  resolution  was  unfortunate,  and 
produced  the  very  evil  which  it  was  intended  to  avert. 

The  Grand  Lodge  now  expressly  ordered  the  regular 
Lodges  not  to  admit  the  seceding  Brethren  as  visitors, 
or  to  countenance  or  acknowledge  them  in  any  way 
whatever,  but  to  treat  them  as  persons  unworthy  of 
'notice,  until  they  humbled  themselves  as  the  Grand 
Master  shall  in  his  prudence  direct,  and  until  he  sig- 
nifies his  approval  by  a  missive  directed  to  the  regular 
Lodges.  The  Grand  Lodge  further  recommended  the 
utmost  care  and  circumspection  in  the  examination  of 
visitors ;  and  not  to  admit  them  on  any  pretence^^diat- 
ever,  until  they  had  entered  into  an  engagement  that 
they  had  been  regularly  initiated,  passed,  and  raised,  in 
a  lawful,  warranted  Lodge. 

These  regulations  were  a  source  of  exultation  and 
triumph  to  the  seceding  Brethren.  They  loudly  ex- 
claimed against  what  they  termed  an  alteration  of  the 
landmarks,  as  an  unprecedented,  and  unconstitutional 
proceeding;  accused  the  Grand  Lodge  of  having  deviated 
from  ancient  usage,  and  conferred  upon  all  its  members 
and  adherents  the  invidious  epithet  of  modern  Masons,^^ 

'5  This  alteration  is  thus  explained  by  a  cotemporary  writer : — "  I 
would  beg  leave  to  ask  whether  two  persons  standing  in  the  Guild- 
hall of  London,  the  one  facing  the  statues  of  Gog  and  Magog,  and  the 
other  with  his  back  turned  on  them,  could,  with  any  degree  of  pro- 
priety, quarrel  about  their  situation,  as  Gog  must  be  on  the  right  of 
one,  and  Magog  on  the  right  of  the  other  ?  Such,  and  far  more  insig- 
nificant, is  the  disputatious  temper  of  the  seceding  Brethren,  that,  on 
no  better  grounds  than  the  above,  they  chose  to  usurp  a  power,  and 
to  act  in  open  and  direct  violation  of  the  regulations  they  had  solemn- 
ly engaged  to  maintain,  and  by  every  artifice  possible  to  be  devised, 
endeavoured  to  increase  their  numbers." 

"5  The  offence  was  increased  by  the  manner  in  which  they  recorded 
their  opinions  on  this  invidious  subject.  They  charged  the  Grand 
Lodge  with  a  design  of  abolishing  the  old  custom  of  explaining  geome- 
try in  the  Lodges,  and  substituting  conviviality  in  its  stead.  '•  Some 
of  the  young  Brethren,"  they  said,  "made  it  appear  that  a  good  knife 
and  fork  in  the  hands  of  a  dexterous  Brother  over  proper  materials, 
would  give  greater  satisfaction,  and  add  more  to  the  conviviality  of 
the  Lodge,  than  the  best  scale  and  compass  in  Europe."  They  further 
asserted  that  the  Brethren  had  made  an  attempt  to  get  rid  of  their 
aprons,  because  '-they  made  the  gentlemen  look  like  mechanics.'-' 
(Ahim.  Rezon,  p.  14.) 


ENGLISH    ROYAL    ARCH.  IS 

while  they  appropriated  to  themselves  the  exclusive  and 
honourable  title  of  "  ancient  Masons,  acting  under  the 
old  York  constitutions,  cemented  and  consecrated  by 
immemorial  observance,"  Taking  advantage  of  this 
popular  cry,  they  proceeded  to  the  formation  of  an  inde- 
pendent Grand  Lodge,  drev7  up  a  code  of  lava's  for  its 
government,  issued  warrants  for  the  constitution  of  new 
Lodges,  "  under  the  true  ancient  system  of  Freemason- 
ly ;"  and  from  the  fees  arising  out  of  those  proceedings 
they  succeeded  in  establishing  a  fund  of  benevolence,  be- 
sides defraying  the  current  expenses  of  the  Institution. 

It  will  be  necessary  to  pause  a  moment  here  for  the 
purpose  of  taking  into  consideration  a  few  anomalies  in 
this  new  establishment,  which  appear  difficult  of  solu- 
tion. The  ancients,'^'^  in  their  justification,  had  strongly 
and  repeatedly  condemned  the  formation  of  any  new 
Grand  Lodge,  as  an  unconstitutional  proceeding,  and  at 
variance  with  the  genuine  principles  of  Masonry;  and 
pronounced  that  such  a  body,  being  self-constituted, 
could  not  possess  any  legal  authority  over  the  Craft.  If 
they  were  sincere  in  their  protestations,  why  did  they 
constitute  a  Grand  Lodge  of  their  own?  And  again, 
if  they  really  derived  their  authority  from  the  Grand 
Lodge  at  York,  why  did  they  not  unite  under  its  banner, 
refer  to  it  for  their  warrants  and  other  public  sanctions, 
instead  of  openly  renouncing  its  protection  by  the  estab- 
lishment of  a  new  Grand  Lodge,  and  issuing  constitu- 
tions for  the  formation  of  private  Lodges,  even  in  the 
city  of  York  itself?  These  queries  are  difficult  to  an- 
swer, and,  therefore,  the  ancients  wisely  avoided  them. 
Not  a  word  on  the  subject  is  to  be  found  in  the  Ahiman 
Kezon,  though,  as  v^^e  have  already  seen,  it  is  sufficiently 
vituperative  on  other  points.^^ 

1^  I  shall  use  the  words  ancients  and  moderns,  in  their  general 
acceptation ;  the  former  to  designate  the  seceders,  and  the  latter  the 
constitutional  Masons  ;  although  both  were  alike  either  ancient  or 
modern,  being  equally  derived  from  the  same  source. 

1^  Laurie  says  of  this  book : — '■  The  unfairness  with  which  he  (Dermott) 
has  stated  the  proceedings  of  the  moderns,  the  bitterness  with  which 
he  treats  them,  and  the  quackery  and  vain  glory  with  which  he  dis- 
plays his  own  pretensions  to  superior  knowledge,  deserve  to  be  repro- 
bated by  every  class  of  Masons  who  are  anxious  for  the  purity  of 
their  Order,  and  the  preservation  of  that  charity  and  mildness  which 
ought  to  characterize  all  their  proceedings."    (Laurie,  p.  117.) 


14  ORIGIN    OF    THE 

The  accusation  of  changing  the  ancient  landmarks  of 
the  Order,  wliich  was  pertinaciously  urged  against  the 
Grand  Lodge  of  the  moderns,  answered  every  purpose 
which  was  intended  to  be  effected  by  it.  The  new  Order 
became  extremely  popular,  and  as  it  professed  to  convey 
privileges,  and  to  communicate  secrers  unknown  to  the 
rival  Institution,  persons  of  rank  were  induced  to  enrol 
themselves  under  its  banner. 

But,  notviithstanding  the  virtuous  indignation  which 
was  expressed  by  the  ancients  at  the  alleged  delinquency 
of  the  English  Grand  Lodge,  1  am  inclined  to  think  that 
they  themselves,  at  the  above  period,  remodified,  at  the 
least,  if  they  did  not  alter,  several  of  the  old  landmarks. 
It  was  asserted  by  Finch,  and  some  other  masonic  charla- 
tans, that  the  Master  IMason's  word  was  never  lost !  And 
although,  when  this  public  announcement  was  made,  it 
was  considered  merely  as  an  ingenious  fiction  to  attract 
attention  to  their  worthless  publications;  yet  there  is 
circumstantial  evidence,  which  may  induce  us  to  suspend 
our  opinions  on  the  truth  or  falsehood  of  the  assertion. 
These  considerations  afford  a  clue  towards  discovering 
the  origin  of  the  English  Royal  Arch  degree,  which,  I 
think,  it  would  be  difficult  to  trace  beyond  the  period 
of  this  schism,  although  I  admit  the  imperfection  of 
written  evidence  in  proof  of  facts  attached  to  a  secret 
society,  which  professes  to  transmit  its  peculiar  mys- 
teries by  oral  communication  only. 

You  will  recollect,  my  dear  sir,  the  observation — I 
think  it  was  first  made  by  Sir  William  Drummond,  the 
erudite  author  of  the  Origenes — that  "  it  is  painful  to 
have  doubts  where  others  believe."  I  have  long  felt  the 
force  of  this  sentiment  with  respect  to  the  Royal  Arch. 
At  my  first  exaltation  I  was  taught  to  believe  it  an  an- 
cient degree;  but  I  confess,  that  even  at  that  period  I 
entertained  considerable  doubts  on  the  point.  The  de- 
gree is  too  incongruous  to  be  of  any  great  antiquity.  It 
exhibits  too  many  evidences  of  modern  construction  to  be 
received  with  implicit  credence  as  a  ceremony  practised 
by  the  ancient  Dionysiacs,  or  even  the  morS  modern 
colleges  of  Freemasons,  or  confraternities  of  the  middle 
ages,  to  whom  we  are  indebted  for  the  sublime  specimens 
of  science  and  genius  exhibited  in  the  ecclesiastical 
buildings,  which  still  dignify  and  adorn  every  European 


ENGLISH    ROYAL    AKCH.  15 

nation.  It  is  not  mentioned  in  any  ancient  record  of 
acknowledged  authenticity ;  nor  does  Dr.  Anderson  give 
the  slightest  hint  in  his  elaborate  history  of  the  Order, 
that  it  was  known  at  the  period  when  he  wrote. 

The  earliest  mention  of  it  in  England,  which  I  can 
find,  is  in  the  year  1740,^^  just  one  year  after  the  tri- 
fling alteration  sanctioned  by  the  modern  Grand  Lodge 
already  mentioned.  I  have  now  before  me  an  old  Master 
Mason's  tracing-boad  or  floor-cloth,  which  was  published 
on  the  continent  almost  immediately  after  symbolical 
Masonr)^  had  been  received  in  France  as  a  branch  from 
the  Grand  Lodge  of  England  in  1725,  which  furnished 
the  French  Masons  with  a  written  copy  of  the  lectures 
then  in  use ;  and  it  contains  the  true  Master's  word  in  a 
very  prominent  situation.  This  forms  an  important  link 
in  the  chain  of  presumptive  evidence,  that  the  word,  at 
that  time,  had  not  been  severed  from  the  Third  Degree, 
and  transferred  to  anotlier.  If  this  be  true,  as  there  is 
every  reason  to  believe,  the  alteration  must  have  been 
effected  by  some  extraordinary  innovation  and  change  of 
landmarks.  And  I  am  persuaded,  for  reasons  which  will 
speedily  be  given,  that  the  ancients  are  chargeable  with 
originating  these  innovations;  for  the  division  of  the 
Third  Degree,  and  the  fabrication  of  the  English  Royal 
Arch  appear,  on  their  own  showing,  to  have  been  their 
work. 

Now  the  Royal  Arch  Degree,  as  it  was  practised  by 
the  seceding  Brethren,  although  it  contained  elements 
of  the  greatest  sublimity,  was  imperfect  in  its  construc- 
tion, and  unsatisfactory  in  its  result ;  which  will  tend  to 
show,  from  the  crude  and  unfinished  state  in  which  it 
then  aj^peared,  that  the  Degree  was  in  its  infancy.  The 
anachronisms  with  which  it  abounded,  and  the  loose 
manner  in  which  its  parts  were  fitted  into  each  other, 
betrayed  its  recent  origin.  In  fact,  it  was  evidently  an 
attempt  to  combine  several  of  the  continental  Degrees 
of  sublime  Masonry  into  one,  without  regard  to  the  order 
of  time,  propriety  of  arrangement,  or  any  other  consist- 
ent principle ;  and,  therefore,  we  find,  in  the  Degree  as 
it  was  originally  constructed,  jumbled  together  in  a  state 

*3  In  the  Historical  Landmarks  of  Freemasonry,  the  date  of  1730 
is  given,  but  it  is  a  typographical  error^ 


16  ORIGIN    OF    THE 

of  inextricable  confusion,  the  events  commemorated  in 
Eamsay's  Royal  Arch,  the  Knights  of  the  Ninth  Arch,  of 
the  Burning  Bush,  of  the  East  or  Sword,  of  the  Red 
Cross,  the  Scotch  Fellow  Craft,  the  Select  Master,  the 
Red  Cross  Sword  of  Babylon,  the  Rose  Croix,  &c.  You 
will  see,  my  dear  sir,  that  it  is  impossible  to  be  explicit 
on  this  part  of  the  subject,  because  the  particulars  cannot 
legally  be  committed  to  writing;  nor  is  it  mat^^rial,  for 
it  is  the  origin  and  not  the  details  of  the  Royal  Arch 
that  I  am  now  principally  concerned  to  show.  The 
fabricators  might — it  is  barely  possible — have  had  tlie 
idea  from  the  sister  island,  but  they  could  not  have 
imported  the  Degree  from  thence,  because,  if  prac- 
tised by  the  Irish  Masons  at  that  period  (which  is 
extremely  doubtful),  it  was  altogether  a  diflerent  compo- 
sition. 

I  proceed  to  show  the  presumption  that  the  Royal 
Arch  Degree  was  concocted  by  the  ancients  to  widen  the 
breach,  and  make  the  line  of  distinction  betv/een  them 
and  the  Crand  Lodge  broader  and  more  indelible.  Colonel 
Stone  says — "It  is  asserted,  but  with  how  much  truth  I 
have  not  the  means  of  deciding,  that  the  first  warrant 
for  the  practice  of  the  Royal  Arch  Degree  was  granted 
by  Charles  Edward  Stuart,  son  of  the  Pretender,  to  hold 
a  Chapter  of  an  Order  called  the  Scotch  Jacobite,  at 
Arras,  in  France,  where  he  had  received  many  favours  at 
the  hands  of  the  Masons.  This  Chapter  was  subsequently 
removed  to  Paris,  where  it  was  called  Le  Chapitre 
d' Arras,  and  is,  in  fact,  tite  original  of  our  p'esent  Royal 
Arch  Cha liters.''''  Stone's  information  on  the  foreign 
Degrees,  however,  was  very  imperfect;  for  there  is  no 
evidence  to  prove  that  the  English  Royal  Arch  was  ever 
worked  in  France.  The  Chapter  established  under  the 
auspices  of  the  Chevalier  was  denominated  the  Eagle  and 
Pelican,  another  name  for  the  Royal  Order  of  Bruce,  or 
that  part  of  it  which  is  called  the  R.  S.  Y.  C.  S.,  a  com- 
position of  a  widely  different  nature  from  our  Royal 
Arch. 

In  compiling  the  Ahiman  Rezon,  Deniiott  was  particu- 
larly guarded  lest  he  should  make  any  undue  disclosures 
which  might  betray  the  English  origin  of  his  Degree,  for 
it  would  have  destroyed  his  claim  to  the  title  of  an 
an-dent  Mason;  but,  notwithstanding  all  his  care,  I  shall 


ENGLISH    ROYAL    ARCH.  17 

be  able  to  prove  the  fact  almost  from  the  Ahimaii  Rezon 
itself,  with  the  assistance  of  a  little  analogous  testimony 
collected  from  other  sources.  It  was  evidently  his 
intention  that  the  Royal  Arch  should  be  received  amongst 
the  Brethren  as  a  foreign  Degree,  which  had  been  prac- 
tised from  the  most  ancient  times.  Now  it  could  not  be 
a  continental  rite,  because  it  does  not  correspond  with 
the  Royal  Arch  propagated  by  Ramsay  on  the  continent 
of  Europe;  neither  is  it  found  in  any  of  the  French  or 
German  systems  of  Masonry  practised  during  the  early 
part  and  middle  of  the  last  century.  It  is  not  contained 
in  the  Royal  Order  of  Bruce,  which  is  the  only  ancient 
system  of  Masonry  in  existence,  except  the  three  blue 
Degrees ;  neither  do  we  discover  it  in  the  systems  of 
Charles  Edward  Stuart,  of  the  Chapter  of  Clermont,  in 
the  Degrees  of  Baron  Hunde,  in  Hermetic,  Cabalistic,  or 
Eclectic  Masonry ;  nor  in  the  elaborate  rites  of  Zinnen- 
dorfl',  Swedenborg,  Fessler,  Bedaridde,  Peuvret,  or  their 
compeers.  It  was  not  included  in  the  order  of  Mizraim, 
Adoptive  Masonry,  or  the  Rite  Ancien  et  Accepte ;  nor, 
I  am  persuaded,  in  any  other  system  which  was  ever 
practised  on  the  continent  of  Europe.  If  it  were,  I  have 
failed  in  my  endeavours  to  discover  it.  It  is,  therefore, 
very  properly  denominated  the  English  Royal  Arch,  for 
it  was  doubtless  a  fabrication  of  this  country,  and  from 
hence  was  transmitted  to  every  part  of  the  world  where 
it  now  prevails.  Let  us,  then,  endeavour  to  ascertain  its 
precise  origin. 

The  ancients  proclaimed  to  the  public  in  their  Book  of 
Constitutions — "  It  is  a  truth  beyond  contradiction,  the 
Free  and  Accepted  Masons  in  Ireland  and  Scotland,  and 
the  ancient  Masons  of  England,  have  one  and  the  same 
customs,  usages,  and  ceremonies ;  but  this  is  not  the  case 
with  the  modern  Masons  in  England,  who  differ  materially, 
not  only  from  the  above,  but  from  most  Masons  in  all  parts 
of  the  world."  ^°  And  in  another  place  they  state  par- 
ticularly what  some  of  these  points  of  difference  were, 
viz.,  "they  differ  exceedingly  in  makings,  ceremonies, 
hnowledge.  Masonic  language,  and  installations;  so  much 
so,  that  they  always  have  been,  and  still  continue  to  be, 
two    distinct    societies,    totally    independent    of   each 

^'^  Ahiman  Rezon,  p.  70. 


18  ORIGIiV    OF    THE 

other."  ^^  To  authorize  such  assertions  as  these,  there 
must  have  been  some  organic  difference,  which  could  be 
nothing  short  of  the  institution  of  a  new  Degree,  prac- 
tised in  the  ancient  Lodges.  And  to  make  it  the  more 
attractive,  they  dignified  it  with  the  title  of  the  Royal 
Arch,  as  Ramsay  had  done  before  them,  although  their 
Degree  differed  materially  from  that  which  he  had  pro- 
mulgated under  the  same  name.  Although  it  is  ex- 
tremely probable  that  Ramsay  may  have  had  some  hand 
in  this  business;  for  he  visited  London  at  the  very  period 
in  question,  for  the  purpose  of  introducing  his  new 
Degrees  into  English  Masonry;  and  his  schemes  being 
rejected  by  the  constitutional  Grand  Lodge,  nothing 
appears  more  likely  than  that  he  would  throw  himself 
into  the  hands  of  the  schismatics,  who  would  receive  his 
communications  with  pleasure,  because  they  presented 
the  means  of  furthering  their  views  in  the  propagation 
of  what  they  termed  ancient  Masonry.  And  under  these 
circumstances  a  new  Degree  might  be  concocted,^  which 

2'  Ahinan  Rezon,  p.  30. 

2^  In  the  R.  A.  of  Eamsay  there  was  a  jewel  inscribed  with  the 
letters  I.  V.  I,  0.  L.,  meaning  Inveni  verbum  in  ore  Leoni?;,  of  which 
the  following  explanation  was  given  in  the  historical  lecture  attached 
to  the  Degree.  "  BibUcal  history  informs  us  that  the  Jews  were 
slaves  to  the  Egyptians  until  they  were  redeemed  by  Moses,  for  the 
purpose  of  occupying  the  pi'omised  land.  We  also  learn  from  the 
annals  deposited  in  the  archives  in  Scotland  (!)  and  only  to  be  exam- 
ined by  us,  that  in  a  certain  battle  the  ark  of  alliance  was  lost  in  a 
forest,  and  was  subsequently  found  by  the  roaring  of  a  lion,  which, 
on  the  approach  of  the  Israelites,  ceased  its  roarings,  and  couched  at 
their  feet.  This  lion  had  previously  devoured  a  great  number  of  the 
Egyptians  who  attempted  to  carry  away  the  ark,  keeping  securely  in 
his  mouth  the  key  to  the  treasures  which  it  contained.  But  when  the 
high  priest  came  near  him,  he  dropped  the  key  from  his  mouth,  and 
retired  couching  and  tame,  without  offering  the  least  violence  to  the 
chosen  people."  There  is  a  similar  allusion  to  a  lion  in  the  Degree 
of  the  venerable  Grand  Master  of  all  Symbolic  Lodges,  or  Master 
ad  vitam,  where  he  is  represented  as  having  been  wounded  by  an 
arrow,  and  having  escaped  from  the  stake  to  which  he  had  been 
bound,  lay  at  the  mouth  of  a  cave  with  the  broken  rope  about  his 
neck,  using  certain  mathematical  instruments.  At  the  foot  of  the 
stake  hes  a  crown.  This  bore  a  reference  to  the  escape  of  Charles 
Edward  Stuart,  the  claimant  to  the  crown  of  England  ;  and  in  the 
lectures  a  question  is  asked,  "What  does  Jackson  signify  ?"_  which 
is  thus  answered,  "  I  am  that  I  am,  which  is  the  name  of  him  who 
found  the  cavern  where  the  Hon  was  hid  that  kept  in  his  mouth  the 
key -of  the  ai-k  of  alliance,  which  was  lost,  as  is  mentioned  iii  th« 


ENG-LISH    KOYAL    AKCH.  19 

would  cement  the  schism,  and  prove  an  effectual  bar  to 
all  reconciliation,  by  constituting  a  tangible  line  of 
demarcation  between  them  and  the  moderns,  wliich 
would  be  impregnable.  Dermott  confesses  that  the  Royal 
Arch  WAS  FIRST  PRACTISED  in  England  by  "the  Excel- 
lent Masons  of  the  Grand  Lodge  of  England  accurdingto 
the  old  constitutions,  who,  duly  assembled,  and  constitu- 
tionally convened  in  general  Grand  Chapter,  carefully 
collected  and  revised  the  regulations  ivhich  have  long  been 
in  use  for  the  government  thereof;"^  thus  asserting  their 
claim  to  antiquity,  although  it  had  never  yet  been  prac- 
tised in  England.  Ramsay  had  already  made  the  same 
claim  for  the  antiquity  of  his  Degrees,  wdiich,  it  is  w^ell 
known,  were  invented  by  himself.  It  is,  therefore, 
extremely  probable  that  Ramsay  was  concerned  in  the 
fabrication  of  the  English  Degree ;  because  it  still  embo- 
dies some  of  the  details  of  his  Royal  Arch,  the  whole  of 
which,  I  am  inclined  to  think,  in  the  earliest  arrange- 
ment of  the  English  Degree  formed  one  of  the  prelimi- 
nary ceremonies.'* 

Degree  of  the  R.  A."  It  is*  now  universuUv  allowed  that  Jacksou 
meant  Jaques-son,  the  son  of  .James,  the  exiled  king.  There  can  be 
no  doubt  but  Ramsay  invented  the  French  Royal  Arch,  and  made  it 
the  highest  of  all  his  Degrees,  and  the  ne  2]his  ultra  of  Masonry. 
The  fact  is,  the  above  was  a  symbol  to  signify  the  lion  of  the  tribe  of 
Judah,  or  Christ,  pierced  with  the  spear,  and  bearing  the  kej'  to 
unlock  and  explain  the  tendency  of  the  Jewish  dispensation,  and  its 
I'eference  to  Christianity. 

^3  Laws  and  regulations  of  the  Holy  Royal  Arch,  in  the  Ahiman 
Rezon,  p.  114. 

^*  I  make  this  statement,  because  the  earhest  copy  of  this  Degree 
in  my  possession,  dated  1788.  commences  with  a  long  explanation  of 
the  ceremonies  of  Ramsay's  Royal  Arch  as  preparatory  to  the  Eng- 
lish Degree.  This  ceremonial  had  been  discontinued  before  my  own 
exaltation  in  1818;  and  probably  not  long  before  ;  because  a  copy  of 
the  lectures  which  was  placed  in  my  hands,  by  a  friend,  at  that 
period,  opens  with  the  details  of  Enoch's  arches,  but  this  portion  had 
been  obliterated  by  running  a  pen  through  it.  The  notorious  Masonic 
quack.  Finch,  in  the  explanation  of  one  of  his  engravings,  says, 
*'  the  four  equilateral  triangles,  within  the  perpendicular  part,  is 
emblematic  of  the  Suspended  Arch,  Advanced  Arch,  Dedicated  Arch, 
and  Circumscrihed  Arch  ;  and  the  twelve  letters  are  the  initials  of  the 
proper  words  belonging  to  these  four  points  of  the  Royal  Arch 
Degree.  In  the  right  hand  corner  is  another  Cross  relative  to  the 
Royal  Arch,  with  nine  perpendicular  Arches,  made  by  Enoch,  and 
discovered  by  Solomon.  The  Z  stands  for  the  chief  officer  of  the 
Chapter,  and  the  equilateral  triangle  round  the  letter  Z,  alludes  to  the 
triangular  chains  of  tb©  Jew§,  during-  part  of  their  Babylotiisb  'cap= 

liHrity." 


20  ORIGIN    OF    THE 

Besides,  Dermott  could  not  have  derived  his  degree 
from  any  other  source,  for  the  age  of  continental  inno- 
vation had  only  just  commenced,  and  Ramsay's  degrees 
were  tlie  only  new  introductions  grafted  upon  symbol- 
ical Masonry  in  France.  The  Freemasonry  which  was 
practised  in  that  country,  between  A.  D.  1700  and  1725, 
was  only  by  some  English  residents,  without  a  charter 
or  any  formal  Lodge.  The  first  warrant  for  opening  a 
Lodge  in  France,  was  granted  in  1725,  by  the  Grand 
Lodge  of  England  to  Lord  Derwentwater,  Maskelyne, 
Higuetty,  and  some  other  English  followers  of  the  Pre- 
cender,  who  met  at  an  eating-house  in  the  Rue  des  Bou- 
cheries.  It  was  not  till  1728  that  Ramsay  added  his 
new  degrees ;  and  this  gave  the  idea  of  the  hauts  grades, 
which  soon  came  into  vogue ;  but  they  w^ere  received 
with  suspicion,  and  made  little  progress  for  some  years. 
In  December,  1736,  Lord  Harnouester  was  elected  Grand 
Master  for  France,  and  Ramsay  w&s  installed  into  the 
office  of  Grand  Orator.  In  1740  he  came  over  to  Eng- 
land, and  remained  in  this  country  more  than  a  year ; 
after  which  he  returned  to  France,  where  the  rage  for 
innovation  had  now  fairly  commenced.^ 

It  was  during  this  period,  I  am  persuaded,  that  the 
English  Royal  Arch  was  fabricated;  for  very  soon  after- 
wards, the  ancients  publicly  ainiounced  that  "  Ancient 
Masonry  consists  of  Jour  degrees,"  w^hile  modern  Masonry 
had  only  three ;  the  fourth  signifying  the  Royal  Arch,  of 
which,  until  a  much  later  period,  the  constitutional 
Grand  Lodge  professed  to  know  nothing,  but  which  was 
authoritatively  pronounced  by  the  ancients  to  be  "an 
essential  and  component  part  of  ancient  Masonry,  and 
that  which  is  the  perfection  and  end  of  the  beautiful 
system."*^  The  words  of  the  preamble  to  the  original 
laws  of  their  Royal  Arch,  are  these, — "Ancient  Masonry 

^^  We  have  the  testimony  of  Professor  Robison,  the  Anti-Mason, 
that  "  Ramsay  was  as  eminent  for  his  piety  as  he  was  for  his  enthu- 
siasm, but  his  opinions  were  singular.  His  eminent  learning,  his  ele- 
gant talents,  his  amiable  character,  and  particularly  his  estimation  at 
court,  gave  great  influence  to  every  thing  he  said  on  the  subject  of 
Masonrjr,  which  was  merely  a  matter  of  fashion  and  amusement. 
Whoever  has  attended  much  to  human  affairs,  knows  the  eagerness 
loith  lohich  men  propagate  all  singular  opinions,  and  the  delight  which 
attends  their  favourable  reception.''^ 

■^''  Ahiman  Rezon,  pp.  113,  114. 


ENGLISH    ROYAL    ARCH.  21 

consists  of  four  degrees ;  the  three  first  of  which  are 
those  of  the  Apprentice,  the  Fellowcraft,  and  the  sublime 
degree  of  Master ;  and  a  Brother,  being  well  versed  in 
these  degrees,  and  otherwise  qualified  as  hereafter  will 
be  expressed,  is  eligible  to  be  admitted  to  the  Fourth  De- 
gree, the  Holy  Royal  Arch.  This  degree  is  certainly  more 
august,  sublime,  and  important  than  tJtose  which  'precede  it, 
and  is  the  summit  and  perfection  of  ancient  Masonry.  It 
impresses  on  our  minds  a  more  firm  belief  of  the  exist- 
ence of  a  Supreme  Deity,  without  beginniiig  of  days,  or 
end  of  years,  and  justly  reminds  us  of  the  respect  and 
veneration  due  to  that  Holy  Name.  Until  within  these 
few  years,  this  degree  was  not  conferred  on  any  but 
those  who  had  been  a  considerable  time  enrolled  in  the 
Fraternity ;  and  could,  besides,  give  the  most  unequi- 
vocal proofs  of  their  skill  and  proficiency  in  the  Craft."^^ 
In  fact,  until  within  a  few  years  before  these  laws  were 
drawn  up,  it  was  not  conferred  at  all ;  for  it  was  un- 
known. 

In  proof  that  the  members  of  the  constitutional  Grand 
Lodge  were,  at  this  period,  ignorant  of  its  existence,  and 
disclaimed  its  authority  as  a  masonic  innovation,  the 
Grrand  Secretary  of  the  moderns  stated,  in  answer  to  the 
petition  of  an  ancient  Mason  for  pecuniary  relief,  about 
the  year  1758 — *'  Being  an  ancient  Mason,  you  are  not 
entitled  to  any  of  our  charity.  The  ancient  Masons  have 
a  Lodge  at  the  '  Five  Bells,'  in  the  Strand,  and  theii 
secretary's  name  is  Dermott.  Our  Society  is  neither 
Arch,  (Royal  Arch,)  nor  ancient,  so  that  you  have  no 
right  to  partake  of  our  charity."^^  It  is  clear,  therefore, 
that  the  moderns  had  no  Royal  Arch  in  175S ;  and 
equally  clear  that  it  had  been  long  practised  by  the  an- 
cients, who  were  entirely  ignorant  of  it  at  the  first 
breaking  out  of  the  schism  ;  for  they  were  then  members 
of  Lodges  under  the  constitutions  of  England;  and  if 
they  were  acquainted  with  the  degree,  they  were  bound 
on  their  allegiance  to  communicate  it  to  their  superiors, 
if,  as  they  afterwards  asserted,  it  formed  a  constituent 
part  of  ancient  Masonry,  which  they  did  not  do.  And 
if  the}^  were  not  acquainted  with  it,  as  it  is  reasonable 

^''  Ahiman  Rezon,  p.  113. 

'■^^  A  copy  of  this  curious  document  will  be  found  in  the  Ahiman 
Rezon.     Introduction,  p.  xi. 


S2  ORIGIN    OF    THE 

to  presume,  how  did  they  know  it  after  the  schism,  if  it 
was  not  a  new  invention  or  a  new  communication?  And 
it  could  not  be  the  latter  for  the  reasons  already  stated. 
The  conclusion  is,  therefore,  inevitable,  that  the  ancients 
fabricated  the  degree. 

In  confirmation  of  this  fact,  the  same  book  of  con- 
stitutions declares,  that  "it  is  impossible  to  exalt  a 
modern  Mason  to  the  Royal  Arch,  without  previously 
conferring  upon  him  the  Master's  deg)-ee  according  to 
theu  own  ceremo?iu's.^^''^^  This  assei'tion  was  doubtless  made 
on  the  ground  that  he  was  already  in  possession  of  the 
Mastei"'s  word,  which  they  knew  was  communicated  in 
the  Third  Degree,  according  to  the  terms  of  the  "  Master's 
part,"  as  then  practised  by  the  modern  Grand  Lodge : 
for  the  first  lectures  which  were  drawn  up  by  Brothers 
Payne,  Anderson,  Desasuliers,  Martin  Folkes,  Madden, 
and  other  eminent  Masons,  expressly  declare,  in  the  de- 
gree of  Master,  that  "that  which  was  lost,"  meaning  the 
Master  Mason's  word,  "  is  now  fonnd ;''^  i.  e.  in  the  latter 
ceremonies  of  the  Thiid  Degree,  when  it  was  delivered  to 
the  newly-raised  Master  in  due  form  ;  and,  therefore,  the 
Royal  Arch  Degree  would  have  thrown  no  new  light  on 
the  subject  to  a  constitutional  Master  Mason. "^° 

This  is  a  convincing  proof  that  the  ditference  between 
the  ancient  and  modern  systems  consisted  solely  in  the 
mutilation  of  the  Third  Degree  ;  and  it  is  actually  referred 
to  in  the  proceedings  of  the  modern  Grand  Lodge,  in 
1755,  where  they  express  their  disapprobation  at  the 
conduct  of  the  ancients  in  "introducing  novelties  and 
conceits  of  opinionative  persons,  to  create  a  belief  that  there 
have  been  other  societies  of  Masons  more  ancient  than  this 
society  ;''''^^  evidently  alluding  to  the  establishment  of  the 

29  Ahiman  Rezon,  p.  20. 

^°  A  highly  valued  correspondent  says,  "  Since  I  last  wrote  to  you, 
I  have  had  occasion  to  study  much  Masonry,  both  as  to  the  history 
and  origin  of  the  several  degrees,  and  its  distinction  into  Speculative 
ind  Operative ;  and  after  the  closest  attention  I  can  pay  to  the  sub- 
lect,  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  no  degrees  are  ancient  except 
the  three  first.  The  R.  A.  Degrees  may  or  may  not ;  but  I  cannot 
trace  them  much,  if  at  all  beyond  the  middle  of  the  last  century ;  in 
fact  I  have  great  doubts  if  they  be  not  a  modern  compilation  (I  speak 
particularly  of  the  R.  A.  Degree  itself) ;  the  idea  having  been  taken 
from  Ezekiel's  vision,  in  the  same  way  as  the  almost  blasphemous 
foreign  degree  of  the  ■—■ -— -  is  taken  from  the  first  chapter  of  Reve- 
lationg."  "'  Noortbouck's  Oon&titutions,  p=  264 


ENGLISH    ROYAL    ARCH.  33 

Royal  Arch  ;  which  they  publicly  repudiated  three  years 
afterwards,  as  I  have  already  shown,  by  declaring  that 
they  knew  nothing  of  "  either  Arch  or  Royal  Arch." 

These  declarations  appear  to  have  created  a  sensation 
amongst  the  Fraternity,  which  was  unfavourable  to  the 
seceders ;  and,  therefore,  Dermott  proceeded,  in  his  own 
justification,  to  charge  the  regular  Grand  Lodge  with 
having  concocted  a  new  Third  Degree  at  its  first  establish- 
ment, because  the  Masons  who  formed  it  were  ignorant 
of  the  Master'' s  part.  lie  says  that  "About  the  year  1717, 
some  joyous  companions  who  had  passed  the  degree  of  a 
Craft,  though  very  rusty,  resolved  to  form  u  Lodge  for 
themselves,  in  order,  by  conversation,  to  recollect  what 
had  formerly  been  dictated  to  them ;  or  if  that  should  be 
found  impracticable,  to  suhstitntt  something  new,  which 
might  for  the  future  pass  for  Masonrij  among  themselves.  At 
this  meeting  the  question  was  asked,  whether  any  person 
in  the  assembly  knew  the  Master's  part ;  and  being  an- 
swered in  the  negative,  it  was  resolved  that  the  defciency 
should  he  made  up  with  a  new  composition,  and  what  frag- 
ments of  the  old  Order  could  be  found  among  them, 
should  be  immediately  re-formed,  and  made  more  pliable 
to  the  humours  of  the  people. "^^  It  will  be  needless  to 
add  that  this  is  an  exaggeration  ;  because  it  is  very  im- 
probable that  the  Brethren  who  were  acting  in  the  four 
old  Lodges  in  existence  at  that  period,  with  ISayer,  Payne, 
Lamball,  Capt.  Elliott,  and  other  eminent  Brethren  at 
their  head,  should  be  ignorant  of  the  ceremonies  of  the 
Third  Degree. 

From  the  above  facts  and  arguments  we  may  ration- 
ally conclude  that  the  Royal  Arch  was  practised  at  that 
period  by  the  ancient  Masons  only.^ 

^^  Ahiman  Rezoii,  p.  23. 

^^  At  the  fabrication  of  this  degree,  it  is  evident  that  the  word 
"  Keystone"  was  used,  for  Dermott,  who  was  doubtless  the  individual 
to  whom  its  origin  may,  in  a  great  measure,  be  attributed,  in  an  epi- 
logue )i  his  composition,  which  was  spoken  at  the  Theatre  Royal  at 
the  Hayraarket.  has  the  following  passage,  in  evident  allusion  to  it : — 
"  The  men,  too,  can  build,  as  their  fancy  best  suits, 
With  curls  on  each  side  like  a  pair  of  volutes : 
High  toupees  in  front,  something  like  a  Keystone."'  &c. 
I  think  he  was  right  in  the  use  of  this  word,  although  our  Supreme 
Grand  Chapter  has  substituted  the  words  cape  stone,  to  imply  that  the 
subterranean  passage  of  those  early  ages,  was  not  vaulted,  but  covered 
with  a  flat  stone  roof  supported  by  pillars,  after  the  manner  of  the 


24  ORIGIN    OF    THE 

It  appears  further,  that  the  degree  was  then  conferred 
in  the  Master's  Lodge ;  for  separate  chapters  were  a  sub- 
sequent introduction,  as  also  was  the  change  of  colour. 
The  records  state,  that  "every  regular  and  warranted 
Lodge  possesses  the  power  of  forming  and  holding  meet- 
ings in  each  of  these  several  degrees,  the  last  of  which, 
from  its  pre-eminence,  is  .  denominated  a  chapter."^^ 
But  these  regulations^were  drawn  up  many  years  after 
the  first  establishment  of  the  R.  A. 

They  speak  also  of  "  Excellent  Masons,"  which  is 
another  proof  that  the  degree  had  been  adapted  from 
Continental  Masonry,  and  that  the  fabricators  w^ere  de- 
sirous of  inculcating  the  belief  that  it  was  a  foreign  rite. 

Egyptian  temples ;  under  an  impression,  I  suppose,  that  arches  and 
keystones  were  unknown  at  the  building  of  Solomon's  Temple.  The 
subject  is  of  sufficient  importance  to  merit  a  brief  examination,  be- 
cause modern  discovery  has  confirmed  the  belief  that  the  use  of  the 
keystone  is  older  than  the  first  temple.  Mr.  King  indeed  asserts  that 
''  arches  were  not  used  for  a  thousand  years  after  the  building  of  King 
Solomon's  Temple;"  and  as  a  proof  of  it,  he  cites  the  temples  of 
Zerubbabel  and  Herod,  which  contained  no  arches ;  nor  are  they 
mentioned  by  Homer.  None,  he  says,  were  introduced  into  the  magni- 
ficent buildings  either  of  Babylon  or  Persepolis  ;  neither  were  they 
made  use  of  at  Athens ;  in  the  temple  of  Diana  at  Ephesus;  nor  in 
Egypt,  except  in  the  edifices  which  were  constructed  after  the  time 
of  the  Ptolemies ;  and  he  concludes  by  assigning  the  honour  of  the 
invention  to  Archimedes. — (Mun.  Antiq.,  vol.  ii.,  p.  225.)  But  sub- 
sequent investigations  have  shown  the  inaccuracy  of  this  opinion.  It 
is  now  clear  that  the  arch  and  kej'stone  were  known  to  the  Tyrians 
before  the  time  of  Solomon.  "An  opinion,"  says  Mr.  Wilkinson,  in 
his  Topography  of  Thebes,  '•  admitted  by  the  generality  of  the  learned 
world,  gains  force  by  want  of  contradiction,  till  at  length  it  passes 
into  fact.  The  arch  was  employed  in  the  houses  of  the  Egyptians, 
owing  to  the  small  quantity  of  wood  growing  in  the  country,  and  in 
roofing  the  chambers  of  the  crude  brick  pyramids.  I  had  long  been 
persuaded  that  the  greater  part  of  the  brick  vaults  in  the  western 
tombs  of  Thebes  were  at  least  coeval  with  the  eighteenth  dynasty, 
but  had  never  been  fortunate  enough  to  find  proofs  in  support  of  my 
conjecture,  till  chance  threw  in  my  way  a  tomb,  vaulted  in  the  usual 
manner,  with  an  arched  doorway  of  the  same  materials,  stuccoed,  and 
bearing  in  every  part  of  the  frescoe  paintings,  the  name  of  Amenoph  I. 
Innumerable  vaults  and  arches  exist  at  Thebes,  of  early  date,  but  un- 
fortunateljr  none  with  the  names  of  kings  remaining  on  them.  Tlie 
above  discovery  carries  tJie  existence  of  the  arch  up  to  B.  C.  1540,  or 
450  years  before  the  building  of  King  Solomon^s  Temple.^'  And  the 
same  Egyptian  antiquary  thinks  that  they  were  known  at  a  still  earlier 
period.  Dr.  Clarke  carries  arches  up  to  the  time  of  Abraham ;  an 
opinion  which  is  corroborated  by  Sir  W.  Gell. — (Argolis.,  p.  56.) 
"  Ahiman  Rezon,  p.  14. 


ENGLISH    ROYAL    ARCH.  25 

This  is  further  confirmed  by  what  the  Ahiman  Rezon 
says  of  the  Lodge  at  the  "  Ben  Jonson's  Head,"  that 
"  Some  of  the  Brethren  had  been  abroad,  and  received 
extraordinary  benefits  on  account  of  ancient  Masonry."^^ 
The  Excellent  Masons  were  alone  eligible  to  be  present 
during  an  exaltation.  It  is  evident  that  Dermott  knew 
nothing  of  the  degree  so  called,  which  is  a  more  modern 
compilation,  because  if  he  had,  his  E,.  A.,  or  Ne  plus 
ultra,  would  have  constituted  a  fifth  degree,  and  this 
w^as  repudiated  by  his  preliminary  announcement  that 
"Freemasonry  contains  yM«-  degrees,  and  no  more." 
The  name  of  Excellent  w^as,  therefore,  a  mere  distinction 
applied  to  those  who  had  received  the  new  degree.  And 
this  argument  will  serve  to  prove  that  the  Past  Master's 
was  also  unknown  as  a  degree,  it  being  then  considered 
as  a  simple  ceremony,  and  was  confined  to  those  who 
had  actually  occupied  the  chair  of  their  Lodge. 

When  the  General  Grand  Chapter  was  formed,  the 
degree  was  dignified  with  the  name  of  Most  Excellent ; 
the  chief  officers  of  the  Grand  Lodge  were  considered 
ex-oflficio  as  "  Grand  Chiefs  "  of  the  Royal  Arch ;  and  in 
the  end,  w^arrants  were  pronounced  necessary  to  author- 
ize Lodges  to  confer  the  degree ;  and  the  fee  was  stated 
at  one  guinea.  These,  how^ever,  appear  to  have  been 
gradual  steps;  and  many  years  elapsed  before  the  system 
was  arranged,  and  the  Order  of  the  Royal  Arch  organ- 
ized so  as  to  constitute  an  independent  rite.  Altogether 
it  was  a  bold  proceeding;  but  Bro.  Dermott  was  an 
intrepid  character  f^  and  he  succeeded  in  establishing 
quietly  in  England  that  wdiich  excited  on  the  continent 
of  Europe,  opposition  and  tumult,  and  sometimes  expo- 
sure and  disgrace. 

It  is  true,  the  degree  was  unattended  wath  any  specu- 
lative doctrines  of  a  questionable  or  dangerous  nature ; 
and,  therefore,  it  was  not  likely  to  excite  an  extraordi- 

^^  Ahimau  Rezon,  p.  12. 

^  Sir  W.  IDrummond  (Origines,  vol.  i.,  p.  13),  speaking  of  the 
fabulous  history  of  the  Chaldeans,  says,  "  mankind  are  seldom  satis- 
fied with  remaining  in  doubt,  when  conjecture  can  explain  what 
curiosity  desires  to  know.  The  bold  invent,  and  the  credulous 
beheve.  Imagination  embellishes  tradition,  illumines  the  dark  pages 
of  history,  and  builds  on  the  early  and  doubtful  annals  of  former 
times  some  glittering  edifice,  which  dazzles  the  eyes  of  the  ignorant, 
and  which  even  pleases  the  spectator  who  doubts  of  its  solidity." 


2G  ORIGIN    OF    THE  «^^ 

nary  degree  of  attention  in  the  recipients.  It  embodied 
none  of  those  theosophic  notions  which  pervaded  some 
of  the  Teutonic  systems  of  continental  Masonry;  it 
promulgated  no  doctrines  which  were  prejudicial  to  the 
interests  of  morality;  and  for  these  reasons  it  escaped 
animadversion.  It  aimed  to  embody  the  sublimities  of 
religion,  and  to  hallow  tlie  attributes  of  the  Most  High. 
And  while  it  pointed  to  the  prophecy  of  Jacob,  that 
"the  sceptre  should  not  depart  from  Judah  until  Shiloh 
come,""'  the  prejudices  of  the  Christian  and  the  Jew 
would  be  alike  conciliated,  and  no  one  would  feel  justi- 
fied in  questioning  the  propriety  of  an  extension  of  the 
Third  Degree,  while  its  object  was  reputed  to  promote 
the  glory  of  God,  peace  on  earth,  and  good- will  amongst 
mankind. 

Even  after  the  Grand  Chapter  was  formed,  it  was 
only  necessary  to  produce  a  certificate  that  the  appli- 
cant was  "  a  Geometrical  Master  Mason"  to  entitle  him 
to  be  ijassed^^  to  the  Royal  Arch;  and  the  candidate  was 
privately  passed  the  chair  as  a  preliminary  ceremony  f^  a 
custom  that  was  used  till  the  Union,  in  1813.*°     This 

•"  The  name  given  to  the  Chapter  No.  1  of  the  modern  system, 
viz.,  "The  Eock  and  Fountain  Shiloh,"  is  a  proof  that  our  Brethren 
of  that  age  considered  the  Eoyal  Arch  to  be  a  Christian  degree ;  for 
the  above  title  interprets  Shiloh  as  Christ,  and  refers  to  the  fountain 
of  his  blood  springing  from  the  rock  of  our  salvation. 

^^  This  is  the  word  that  was  then  used. 

^3  The  qualifications  of  a  candidate  at  that  period,  as  I  find  by  an 
old  MS.  in  my  possession,  were  these  : — '-Brethren  who  had  distin- 
guished themselves  in  Craft  Masonry,  not  only  by  their  learning  and 
talent,  but  by  their  love  of  Masonry,  their  activity,  generosity,  and 
-liberality  of  sentiment.  They  must  have  shown  themselves  possessed 
of  a  great  desire  to  increase  their  masonic  knowledge,  and  to  pro- 
mote the  general  interests  of  the  Society ;  not  governed  by  either 
enthusiasm  or  bigotrj',  but  by  a  general  love  to  the  human  race. 
They  cannot  be  admitted  until  they  have  passed  thi-ough  the  degx'ees 
of  Craft  Masonry,  nor  until  they  have  attained  the  age  of  twenty-five 
years,  unless  their  father  be  a  Companion  of  the  sublime  degree,  and 
then  they  moy  be  admitted,  if  well  recommended,  ballotted  for,  and 
approved,  at  three  several  periods,  at  the  age  of  twenty -three." 

■*"  The  fact  is  proved  by  the  form  of  the  official  documents.  Before 
the  degree  was  conferred  the  following  certificate  was  issued  by  the 
Master   and   Wardens: — "Whereas   our   trusty   and    well-beloved 

Brother ,  a  geometrical  Master  Mason,  and  member  of  our 

Lodge,  has  solicited  us  to  recommend  him  as  a  Master  Mason,  every 
way  qualified  for  passing  the  Holy  Royal  Arch ;  we  do  hereby  cer- 
tify that,  so  far  as  we  are  judges  of  the  necessary  qualifications,  the 


ENGLISH    ROYAL    ARCH.  27 

extension  of  the  primitive  principles  of  the  Order,  was 
subsequently  adopted  by  the  constitutional  Masons  under 
the  Gi-rand  Lodge  of  England,  who  remodelled  the  degree, 
and  brought  it  to  its  present  form  after  many  judicious 
alterations  and  improvements;  but  the  period  when  i 
was  first  introduced  amongst  them  is  uncertain.  The 
edition  of  Preston's  Illustrations,  dated  17  81,  contains 
no  reference  whatever  to  the  Royal  Arch;  but  in  the 
very  next  edition,  after  the  author  had  been  admitted 
into  the  Fraternity  of  the  ancients,  the  word  "  Com- 
panion" occurs  in  reference  to  the  Grand  Chapter  of 
Harodim,  established  by  the  constitutional  Grand  Lodge 
in  1787,  which,  says  he,  "for  some  years  was  faintly 
encouraged ;  but  after  its  merit  had  been  further  investi- 
gated, it  received  the  patronage  of  several  exalted 
masonic  characters."  The  poetical  department  of  the 
first  named  edition  contains  no  Arch  songs,  while  the 
latter  contains  several.  Bro.  Dunckerley  composed  his 
Eoyal  Arch  songs  between  these  two  dates.  The  intro- 
duction of  the  Royal  Arch  Degree  into  the  modern  system 
could  not,  therefore,  be  earlier  than  the  dedication  of 
Freemasons'  Hall  in  1776.  Ten  years  after  this  date, 
the  regulations  of  the  degree  were  iirst  published.  I 
have  before  me  a  list  of  Grand  Officers  in  1788,  wdiich 
shows  the  state  of  the  Royal  Arch  at  that  period ;  and 
from  the  number  of  Past  Grand  Masters  Z,  which  was 
then  an  annual  office,  being  only  eight,  the  presumption 
is  that  the  Grand  Chapter  had  been  formed  only  eight 
or  nine  years  previously, — viz.,  in  1779.^^     But  it  was 

said  Brother  has  obtained  the  uuanimous  consent  of  our  Lodge  for 
this  reconunendation."  But  after  the  candidate  had  received  the 
degree,  this  certificate  was  issued  to  authorize  his  registration  in  the 
books  of  the  Grand  Chapter : — "  We,  the  three  Cliiefs  and  Scribe, 
whose  names  are  hereunto  subscribed,  do  certify,  that  in  a  Chapter 
of  Holy  Royal  Arch,  convened  and  held  under  the  sanction  and 
authority  of  the  worshipful  Lodge   No,  — ,   our  beloved   Brother 

,  having  delivered  to  us  the  recommendation  of  the  Lodge 

,  hereunto  subjoined,  and  proved  himself,  by  due  examination, 

to  be  well  qualified  in  the  several  degrees  of  Apprentice,  Fellowcraft, 
and  Master  Mason,  and  having  passed  the  chair,  was  by  us  admitted 
to  the  supreme  degree  of  Excellent  E..  A.  Mason." 

•*!  The  names  of  these  eight  were  Comps.  James  Galloway,  Esq., 
Thomas  Dunckerley,  Esq.,  John  Brooks,  Esq.,  James  Heseit,  Esq., 
John  Allen,  Esq.,  Bartholomew  Ruspini,  Esq.,  Francis  Const,  Esq., 
Sir  Herbert  Mackworth,  Bart. 
3 


^8  ORIGIN    OF    THE 

not  till  the  year  1785  that  newly  exalted  Companions 
were  required  to  pay  a  registration  fee. 

At  the  period  of  its  introduction  by  the  ancients,  how- 
ever, and  before  the  moderns  ever  contemplated  its  use 
amongst  themselves,  the  Grand  Lodge  was  alarmed  at 
the  innovation ;  and  when  the  Marquis  of  Caernarvon 
was  elected  to  the  office  of  Grand  Master,  he  applied 
himself  steadily  to  the  extinction  of  the  schism.  His 
acting  deputy,  Dr.  Manningham,  conducted  the  proceed- 
ings, and  pointed  out  the  necessity  of  discouraging  such 
an  open  violation  of  the  laws  of  the  Society,  by  some 
decisive  measures.  At  a  Grand  Lodge  holden  on  the 
20th  of  March,  1755,  a  formal  complaint  was  preferred 
against  certain  Brethren  for  forming  and  assembling 
under  the  denomination  of  ancient  Masons,  and  pro- 
nouncing themselves  independent  of  this  Society,  and 
not  subject  to  the  laws  or  to  the  authority  of  the  Grand 
Master.  Dr.  Manningham,  the  D.  G.  M.,  observed  that 
"such  meetings  were  not  only  contrary  to  the  laws  of 
Masonry,  but  an  insult  to  the  Grand  Master  and  to  the 
whole  body  of  Free  and  Accepted  Masons  ;  as  they  tended 
to  introduce  the  novelties  and  conceits  of  opinionative 
persons,  and  to  create  a  belief  that  there  have  been  other 
societies  of  Masons  more  ancient  than  this  Society." 
A,fter  much  deliberation,  it  was  unanimously  resolved, 
'That  the  meeting  of  Brethren  under  any  denomination 
of  Masons,  without  a  legal  power  and  authority  from  the 
Grand  Lodge  of  England  for  the  time  being,  is  incon- 
sistent with  the  honour  and  interest  of  Masonry,  and  an 
open  violation  of  the  established  laws  of  the  Order."^^ 

This  resolution  was  followed  up  by  the  erasure  of 
twenty-one  Lodges  from  the  list,  for  irregularity;  and 
particular  mention  is  made  of  one  of  these  Lodges, 
which  was  most  active  in  its  propagation  of  the  schism, 
held  at  the  Ben  Jonson's  Head,  in  Spitalfields,  and  its 
fourteen  members  were  all  expelled  the  Society  by  name. 
Such  prompt  and  decisive  proceedings  were  met  by  a 
public  remonstrance  on  the  part  of  the  ancients,  couched 
n  the  following  language : — "A  Lodge  at  the  Ben  Jon- 
son's Head,  in  Pelham  street,  Spitalfields,  was  composed 
mostly  of  ancient  Masons,   though  under    the    modern 

«  Minutes  of  the  Grand  Lodge,  March  20,  1755. 


ENGLISH    ROYAL    ARCH.  29 

Constitution.  Some  of  them  had  been  abroad,  and 
received  extraordinary  benefits  on  account  of  ancient 
Masonry ;  therefore,  they  agreed  to  practice  ancient 
Masonry  on  every  third  Lodge  night."  This  avowal 
contains  an  indirect  allusion  to  the  Continental  innova- 
tions from  which  the  Royal  Arch  had  been  concocted; 
for  all  the  new  systems  claimed  to  be  derived  from  some 
ancient  system  of  Scotch  Masonry,  which,  in  fact,  never 
existed.  "Upon  one  of  these  nights,  some  modern 
Masons  attempted  to  visit  them,  but  were  refused 
admittance.  The  persons  so  refused  laid  a  formal  com- 
plaint before  the  modern  Grand  Lodge,  then  held  at  the 
Devil  Tavern,  near  Temple  Bar.  The  said  Grand  Lodge, 
though  inca-pahle  of  judging  the  j^rojniety  or  impropriety 
of  such  refusal,  (because,  I  suppose,  they  knev^  nothing 
of  the  Royal  Arch,)  not  being  ancient  Masons,  ordered 
that  the  Ben  Jonson's  Lodge  should  admit  all  sorts  of 
Masons,  without  distinction,  and,  upon  non-compliance 
with  that  order,  they  were  censured. 

"The  persons  thus  censured,  drew  up,  printed,  and 
published,  a  manifesto,  and  Mason's  creed,  which  did 
honour  to  their  heads  and  hearts.  The  following  lines 
are  copied  from  the  preface  to  their  pamphlet : — 'Whereas, 
the  genuine  spirit  of  Masonry  seems  to  be  greatly  on  the 
decline,  that  the  Craft  is  in  imminent  danger  from  false 
Brethren;  and,  whereas,  its  very  fundamentals  have  of 
late  been  attacked,  and  a  revolution  from  its  ancient 
principles,  &c.,  it  has  been  thought  necessary  by  certain 
persons  who  have  the  welfare  of  the  Craft  at  heart,  to 
publish  the  following  little  pamphlet,  by  means  of  which 
it  is  hoped  the  ignorant  may  be  instructed,  the  lukewarm 
inspirited,  and  the  irregular  reformed.'  Every  real,  that 
is,  every  ancient  Mason,  who  read  those  publications, 
was  convinced  of  the  injustice  done  to  the  Ben  Jonson's 
Lodge  in  censuring  them  for  having  done  their  duty ;  a 
duty  which  they  owed  to  God,  and  to  themselves ;  and 
a  business  with  which  their  judges,  the  then  modern  Grand 
Lodge,  were  totally  unacquainted.  Nevertheless,  censure 
was  passed,  and  a  minute  thereof  preserved  in  the 
archives,  from  whence  it  was  published  as  one  of  the 
legislative  orders  on  their  records."^*^ 

■^  Ahtman  Rezon,  p.  12. 


30  ORIGIN    OF    THE 

Matters  went  on  in  this  state  for  some  years,  both 
parties  increasing  in  numbers  and  respectability ;  until 
the  ancients  procured  tlie  high  patronage  of  the  Duke 
of  Athol,  the  Grand  Master  elect  of  Scotland,  who 
undertook  the  office  of  Grand  Master,  in  1776;  and  the 
opposition,  which  was  now  carried  on  upon  more  equal 
terms,  had  the  effect  of  stimulating  the  zeal  of  the  Fra- 
ternity on  both  sides;  and  the  number  of  Lodges  was 
gradually  augmented  by  the  issue  of  new  warrants  from 
each  of  the  rival  Grand  Lodges.  In  1777,  Lord  Petre, 
the  Grand  Master  of  the  modern  section,  again  brought 
the  subject  before  the  Grand  Lodge ;  and,  on  the  17th 
of  April,  the  following  resolutions  were  unanimously 
agreed  to : — "  That  no  Lodge  can  assemble  without  a 
w^arrant  from  the  Grand  Master,  and  that  the  persons 
who  have  assembled,  and  still  continue  to  assemble  as 
Masons,  by  virtue  of  a  power  from  a  pretended  Grand 
Lodge,  established  in  London  a  few  years  since,  and 
which  is  now  said  to  exist  under  the  patronage  of  the 
Duke  of  Athol,  are  not  to  be  countenanced  or  acknow- 
ledged by  any  regular  Mason  under  the  Constitution 
of  England,  on  pain  of  forfeiting  the  privileges  of  the 
Society  ;  the  said  convention  being  a  gross  insult  to  the 
Grand  Master,  and  to  every  Lodge  under  his  auspices ; 
and,  the  more  effectually  to  discourage  these  illegal  con- 
ventions, that  no  regular  Mason  shall  be  present  at  them, 
or  give  any  sanction  to  their  proceedings.  That  it  is 
the  opinion  of  this  Grand  Lodge,  that  the  persons  calling 
themselves  ancient  Masons,  and  now  assembling  in  Eng- 
land, or  elsewhere,  under  the  sanction  of  the  Duke  of 
Athol,  are  not  to  be  considered  as  Masons,  nor  are  their 
meetings  to  be  countenanced  or  acknowledged  by  any 
Lodge  or  Mason  acting  under  our  authority.  That  this 
censure  shall  not  extend  to  any  Mason  who  shall  produce 
A  certificate,  or  give  other  satisfactory  proof  of  his  having 
been  made  a  Mason  in  a  regular  Lodge  under  the  Con- 
stitution of  Scotland,  Ireland,  or  any  foreign  Grand 
Lodge,  in  alliance  with  the  Grand  Lodge  of  England." 

These  resolutions  produced  the  famous  letter  of 
Laurence  Dermott,  the  D.  G.  M.  of  the  ancients,  in 
which  he  propounds  the  following  queries: — "Q. 
Whether  Freemasonry,  as  practised  in  ancient  Lodges, 
is   universal?      A.  Yes.      Q.   Whether  what  is   called 


ENGLISH    ROYAL    ARCH.  31 

modern  Masonry  is  universal?  A.  No.  Q.  Whether 
there  is  any  material  difference  between  the  ancient  and 
modern  ^  A.  A  great  deal ;  because  an  ancient  Mason 
can  not  only  make  himself  known  to  his  Brother,  but,  in 
case  of  necessity,  can  discover  his  very  thoughts  to  him 
in  the  presence  of  a  modern,  without  his  being  able  to 
distinguish  that  either  of  them  is  a  Freemason.'*^  Q 
Whether  a  modern  Mason  may,  with  safety,  communicate 
all  his  secrets  to  an  ancient  Mason?  A.  Yes.  Q. 
Whether  an  ancient  Mason  may,  with  the  like  safety, 
communicate  all  his  secrets  to  a  modern  Mason,  without 
farther  ceremony?  A.  No;  for,  as  a  science  compre- 
hends an  art,  though  an  art  cannot  comprehend  a  science, 
even  so  ancient  Masonry  contains  everything  valuable 
amongst  the  moderns,  as  well  as  many  other  things  that 
cannot  be  revealed  without  additional  ceremonies  (the 
Koyal  Arch,  for  instahce).  Q.  Whether  a  person  made 
in  a  modern  manner,  and  not  after  the  ancient  custom 
of  the  Craft,  has  a  right  to  be  called  Free  and  Accepted, 
according  to  the  intent  and  meaning  of  the  words?  A. 
His  being  unqualified  to  appear  in  a  Master's  Lodge, 
according  to  the  universal  system  of  Masonry,  renders 
the  appellation  improper.  Q.  Whether  it  is  possible  to 
initiate  or  introduce  a  modern  Mason  into  the  Royal 
Arch  Lodge  (the  very  essence  of  Masonry),  without 
making  him  go  through  the  ancient  ceremonies?  A. 
No.  Q.  Whether  the  present  members  of  modern 
Lodges  are  blameable  for  deviating  so  much  from  the 
old  Landmarks?  A.  No;  because  the  innovation  was 
made  in  the  reign  of  George  1.,  and  the  new  form  was 
delivered  as  orthodox  to  the  present  members  ?  Q. 
Therefore,  as  it  is  natural  for  each  party  to  maintain  the 

**  An  annotator  makes  tlie  following  observation  on  the  above  : — 
"The  author  of  Ahimau  Eezon  has  stated;  that  he  could  convey  his 
mind  to  an  ancient  Mason  in  the  presence  of  a  modern  Mason,  with- 
out the  latter  knowing  whether  either  of  them  were  Masons.  He 
further  asserted  that  he  was  able,  with  a  few  masonic  implements,  i.  e. 
two  squares  and  a  common  gavel,  or  hammer,  to  convey  any  word  or 
sentence  of  liis  own,  or  the  immediate  dictations  of  a  stranger,  to  a 
skilful  and  intelhgent  Freemason  of  the  ancient  Order,  without 
speaking,  writing,  or  noise  ;  and  that  to  any  distance  when  the  par- 
ties can  see  each  other,  and  at  the  same  time  be  able  to  distinguish 
squares  from  circles."  This  masonic  system  of  cypher- writing  is 
now  well  understood. 


32  ^  ORIGIN    OF    THE 

orthodoxy  of  their  masonic  preceptors,  how  shall  we 
distinguish  the  original  and  most  useful  system?     A. 

The  7iiimher  of  Ancient  Masons  abroad,  compared  with  the 
moder?is,  prove  the  universality  of  the  old  Order,  and 
the  utility  thereof  appears  by  the  love  and  respect  shown 
to  the  Brethren,  in  consequence  of  their  superior  abilities 

n  conversing  with,  and  distinguishing  the  Masons  of  all 
countries  and  denominations,  a  circumstance  peculiar  to 
ancient  Masons."''^ 

.  It  will  be  unnecessary  to  enquire  whether  all  this  is 
consistent  with  the  requirements  of  masonic  duty.  It  is 
clear  that  disobedience  is  a  breach  of  masonic  law.  The 
very  essence  of  the  Institution  is  founded  on  obedience 
to  authority;  and  this  once  forfeited,  led  to  division, 
anarchy,  and  dispute.  But  good  frequently  springs  out 
of  evil.  The  bee  has  a  sting,  but  it  produces  honey. 
These  movements  excited  the  attention  of  the  Fraternity, 

md  also  of  the  public.  Ancient  feelings,  which  had 
long  been  dormant  in  some  of  the  initiated,  began  to 
revive,  and  they  renewed  their  connection  with  the 
Lodges  they  had  abandoned.  Lukewarm  Brethren 
became  partizans  on  either  side,  and  Freemasonry 
reaped  the  benefit  of  these  misunderstandings  by  an 
increase  both  in  numbers  and  influence.  A  more  active 
study  of  its  principles  led  to  a  greater  perfection  in 
the  science,  and  many  initiations  took  place  amongst 
persons  who  had  not  previously  given  the  Institution  a 
serious  thought.  Thus  the  ranks  of  both  ancient  and 
modern  were  increased,  and  the  funds  of  benevolence 
for  the  wddow  and  orphan  augmented  from  new  and 
unexpected  sources;  a  result  which  cemented  the  popu- 
larity of  the  Order.  Its  beauties  and  excellences  were 
placed  in  a  clearer  and  more  prominent  point  of  view, 
and  the  public  became  convinced  that,  though  the  two 
hostile  parties  might  differ  on  some  unimportant  points 


*5  Ahiman  Rezon,  p.  18.  The  reference  to  the  number  of  foreign 
lasons  in  the  last  answer,  contains  an  evident  allusion  to  the  several 
ystems  of  Scotch  Masonry,  which  were  at  that  time  prevalent  in 
France  and  Germany  ;  all  of  which  were  confidentl}^  proclaimed  to 
be  ancient,  when,  in  fact,  the  inventors  were  still  Uving.  The  num- 
ber of  Brethren  who  were  contented  to  practise  unalloyed  sym- 
bolical Masonry,  the  only  system  which  possessed  any  real  claims  to 
antiquity,  on  the  continent  were  comparatively  few. 


ENGLISH    ROYAL    ARCH.  33 

of  discipline,  both  were  pursuing  the  same  laudable 
course, — the  investigation  of  science,  and  the  benefit  of 
mankind. 

About  this  time,  a  treaty  of  alliance  and  confederation 
was  effected  by  the  ancients,  with  the  Grand  Lodges  o 
Scotland  and  Ireland,  under  an  impression  that  the 
ancient  rights  of  Masonry  were  exclusively  practised  by 
them,  and  that  the  English  Grand  Lodge  had  departed 
from  the  primitive  Landmarks,  and  deteriorated  the  sys- 
tem by  modern  innovations.'*'^  In  this  treaty  it  was 
mutually  agreed,  that  each  Grand  Lodge  should  transmit 
to  the  others,  an  account  of  their  proceedings;  and  that 
all  such  information  or  correspondence  should  be  con- 
veyed in  the  most  respectful  terms,  such  as  might  suit 
the  honour  and  dignity  of  the  respective  Grand  Lodges. 

The  two  Societies  continued  to  practise  Masonry 
according  to  their  respective  views,  until  the  year  1801, 
when  it  appears  that  several  members  of  the  modern 
Craft  were  in  the  habit  of  attending  the  meetings  of  the 
ancient  Lodges,  and  rendering  their  assistance  in  the 
ceremonies  of  making,  passing,  and  raising ;  by  which 
conduct  they  became  amenable  to  the  laws  of  Masonry. 
Complaints  to  this  effect  were  formally  preferred,  and 
the  Grand  Lodge  found  itself  obliged  to  notice  the  pro- 
ceedings, and  after  some  deliberation,  the  erring  Brethren 
were  attainted,  and  allowed  three  mouths  to  prepare  their 
defence.  It  does  not  appear  that  the  Grand  Lodge  had 
any  intention  of  making  an  example  of  the  ofienders; 
on  the  contrary,  in  accordance  with  the  amiable  spirit  of 

•'s  A  correspondent  to  one  of  the  London  papers,  in  June,  1783, 
states,  rather  strongly,  that  the  ancients  "  having  prevailed  on  some 
of  the  Brethren  from  Scotland  and  Ireland  to  attend  their  meetings, 
and  inducing  them  to  believe  that  the  ancient  rites  of  Masomy  vrere 
only  practised  by  them,  and  that  the  regular  Lodges  had  deviated 
from  the  ancient  landmarks,  they  obtained,  through  this  channel,  a 
friendly  intercourse  with  the  G-rand  Lodges  of  both  kingdoms,  and  a 
treaty  of  alliance  was  inadvertently  formed  between  these  Grand 
Lodges  and  this  irregular  society.  Neither  of  these  respectable 
bodies,  had  the  real  origin  of  these  seceders  from  the  regular  Fraterni- 
ty been  known,  would  have  permitted  their  authority  to  sanction  an 
infringement  of  the  Constitution  of  Masonry,  to  which  all  Masons 
are  bound,  or  an  encroachment  on  the  established  legislature  of  the 
Fraternity  of  this  kingdom."  As  this  assertion  was  not  contradicted, 
there  appears  to  have  been  some  truth  in  it. 


34  ORIGIN    OF    THE 

Masonry,  it  displayed  an  anxiety  to  heal  the  divisions  by 
which  the  Order  had  been  so  long  distracted  ;  and  used 
its  utmost  efforts  to  effect  an  union  of  the  two  bodies; 
thus  closing  forever  the  dissensions  that  proved  a  bar  to 
the  divine  exercise  of  brotherly  love.  For  this  purpose, 
committee  was  appointed,  with  Lord  Moira,  the  D.  G. 
M.,  at  its  head,  who  declared,  on  accepting  his  appoint- 
ment as  a  member  of  the  committee,  that  "he  should 
consider  the  day  on  which  a  coalition  should  be  formed, 
as  one  of  the  most  fortunate  in  his  life :  and  that  he  was 
empowered  by  the  Prince  of  Wales  to  say  that  his  Roy- 
al Highness's  arms  would  ever  be  open  to  all  the  Masons 
in  the  kingdom  indiscriminately.  As  a  mutual  conces- 
sion, the  D.  Gr.  M.  of  the  ancients  publicly  promised,  on 
his  own  part,  and  in  the  names  of  his  two  friends, 
against  whom  charges  had  been  exhibited,  that  if  the 
Grand  Lodge  would  extend  their  indulgence  to  them, 
they  would  use  their  utmost  exertions  to  effect  an  union 
between  the  two  Societies ;  and  he  pledged  himself  to 
the  Grand  Lodge  that  it  should  be  accomplished. 

It  does  not  appear,  however,  that  he  adopted  any  mea- 
sures which  might  tend  to  heal  the  breach ;  for,  on  the 
9th  of  February,  1803,  it  was  represented  to  the  Grand 
Lodge,  that  the  irregular  Masons  still  continued  refrac- 
tory; and  that  so  far  from  soliciting  readmission  into 
the  Craft,  they  had  not  taken  any  steps  to  effect  an 
union ;  their  conduct  was,  therefore,  deemed  highly  cen- 
surable, and  the  laws  of  the  Grand  Lodge  were  ordered 
to  be  enforced  against  them.  It  v^as  unanimously  re- 
solved, that  the  persons  who  were  opposed  to  the  union 
of  the  two  Grand  Lodges,  be  expelled  the  Society ;  and 
also  for  countenancing  and  supporting  a  set  of  persons, 
calling  themselves  ancient  Masons,  and  holding  Lodges 
in  this  kingdom  without  the  authority  of  his  Royal  High- 
ness the  Prince  of  Wales,  the  Grand  Master,  duly  elected 
by  this  Grand  Lodge.  That  whenever  it  shall  appear 
that  any  Masons  under  the  English  constitution  shall  in 
uture  attend  or  countenance  any  Lodge  or  meeting  of 
ersons  calling  themselves  ancient  Masons,  under  the 
sanction  of  any  person  claiming  the  title  of  Grand  Mas- 
ter of  England,  who  shall  not  have  been  duly  elected  in 
this  Grand  Lodge,  the  laws  of  the  Society  shall  not  only 


ENGLISH    ROYAL    ARCH.  35 

be  strictly  enforced  against  them,  but  their  names  shall 
be  erased  from  the  list,  and  transmitted  to  all  the  regu- 
lar Lodges  under  the  constitution  of  England. 

These  differences  became  at  length  so  irksome,  that 
the  most  influential  Brethren  in  both  divisions  of  the 
Craft,  were  earnestly  desirous  of  an  union.^^  The  first 
actual  step  which  was  taken  to  produce  that  effect, 
originated  with  the  Earl  of  Moira,  in  the  negociation  of  a 
treaty  of  alliance  between  the  English  Grand  Lodge,  of 
which  he  was  the  D.  Gr.  M.,  and  the  Grand  Lodge  of 
Scotland,  under  the  Grand  Mastership  of  the  Earls  of 
Aboyne  and  Dalhousie.  At  the  Grand  Festival  of  St. 
Andrew,  holden  at  Edinburgh,  November  13,  1803,  the 
Earl  of  Dalhousie  on  the  throne.  Lord  Moira  introduced 
the  question  of  the  English  schism,  and  explained  the 
conduct  of  the  Grand  Lodge  of  England  towards  the 
ancient  Masons.  He  stated  that  "the  hearts  and  arms  of 
the  Grand  Lodge  had  ever  been  open  for  the  reception  of 
their  seceding  Brethren,  who  had  obstinately  refused  to 
acknowledge  their  faults,  and  return  to  the  bosom  of 
their  motlier  Lodge;  and  that  though  the  Grand  Lodge 
of  England  differed  in  a  few  trifling  observances  from 
that  of  Scotland,  they  had  ever  entertained  for  Scottish 
Masons  that  affection  and  regard  which  it  is  the  object  of 
Freemasonry  to  cherish,  and  the  duty  of  Freemasons  to 
feel."    His  Lordship's  speech  was  received  by  the  Breth- 

*^  This  was  strongly  urged,  in  a  letter  to  the  Duke  of  Athol,  pub- 
lished by  Bro.  Dauiell,  in  1801.  "  From  a  close  and  attentive 
observation,"  says  he,  "  aided  by  frequent  conversations  with  several 
of  the  most  worthy  and  respectable  members  of  that  Society,  I  am 
warranted  to  assert,  that  an  union  has  long  been  desired  by  them  with 
an  ardour  equal  to  my  own.  Under  all  these  circumstances,  can  it  be 
supposed,  my  Lord,  that  you,  as  a  regular  Mason,  when  jou  are 
informed  of  the  origin  of  the  Institution  which,  I  am  fully  persuaded, 
you  patronize  from  the  purest  motives;  can  it,  I  say,  be  supposed 
that  you,  or  any  nobleman,  would  lend  his  name  to  support  or  coun- 
tenance any  society,  however  praiseworthy  their  motives  might  have 
appeared,  who  meet  in  direct  violation  of  the  laws  and  government 
of  the  Fraternity  ?  No,  my  Lord,  your  public  character  is  too  well 
known  ;  your  zeal  for  the  welfare  of  the  country  is  too  manifest,  and 
your  attachment  to  the  royal  family  too  deeply  rooted,  to  admit  of 
deviation.  Therefore,  I  trust,  your  feehngs  will  coincide  with  my 
own,  and  that  you  will  really  conceive  what  honour,  what  peculiar 
satisfaction,  and  what  heartfelt  pleasure  it  would  give  you,  to  bring 
that  society  which  you  have  lately  patronized,  under  the  Eoyal  ban- 
ner."— (Masonic  Union,  pp.  23,  27.) 


36  ORIGIN    OF    THE 

ren  with  loud  and  reiterated  applause;  a  most  unequivo- 
cal mark  of  their  approbation  of  its  sentiments^^ 

An  official  despatch  on  the  above  subject  from  the 
same  nobleman,  was  read  at  the  Quarterly  Communica- 
tion, in  April,  1805  ;  and  it  was  resolved,  "  That  as  the 
Grand  Lodge  of  Scotland  has  expressed,  through  the 
Earl  of  Moira,  its  earnest  wish  to  be  on  terms  of  confi- 
dential communication  with  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Eng- 
land, under  the  authority  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  this 
Graiid  Lodge,  therefore,  ever  desirous  to  concur  in  a  fra- 
ternal intercourse  with  regular  Masons,  doth  meet  that 
disposition  with  the  utmost  cordiality  of  sentiment,  and 
requests  the  honour  of  the  acting  Grand  Master  to  make 
such  declarations,  in  their  name,  to  the  Grand  Lodge  of 
Scotland." 

The  circumstances  which  led  to  this  good  understand- 
ing were  detailed  by  Lord  Moira,  from  his  place  on  the 
throne  of  the  Grand  Lodge,  at  the  Quarterly  Commu- 
nication, in  February,  1806.  His  lordship  stated  that, 
during  his  residence  in  Edinburgh,  he  had  visited  the 
Grand  Lodge  of  Scotland,  and  taken  an  opportunity  of 
explaining  to  it  the  extent  and  importance  of  this  Grand 
Lodge,  and  also  the  origin  and  situation  of  those  Masons 
in  England  who  met  under  the  authority  of  the  Duke  of 

■*®  Laurie  thus  expresses  liimself  on  the  subject: — "In  the  general 
history  of  Freemasonry,  we  have  ah-eady  given  an  account  of  the 
schism  which  took  place  in  the  Grand  Lodge  of  England,  by  the 
secession  of  a  number  of  men,  who,  calling  themselves  ancient 
Masons,  invidiously  bestowed  upon  the  Grand  Lodge  the  appellation 
of  moderns.  These  ancient  Masons,  who  certainly  merit  blame  as  the 
active  promoters  of  the  schism,  chose  for  their  Grand  Master,  in  the 
year  1772.  his  Grace  the  Duke  of  Athol,  who  was  then  Grand  Master 
elect  for  Scotland.  From  this  circumstance,  more  than  from  any  par- 
ticular predilection  on  the  part  of  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Scotland  for 
the  ancient  Masons,  the  most  friendly  intercourse  has  always  subsisted 
between  the  two  Grand  Lodges  ;  and  the  Scottish  Masons,  from  their 
union  with  the  ancients,  imbiljedthe  same  prejudices  against  the  Grand 
Lodge  of  England,  arising  merely  from  some  trifling  innovations  in 
ceremonial  observancy,  which  had  been  inconsiderately  authorized. 
From  these  causes,  the  Grand  Lodges  of  Scotland  and  England,  though 
the  Brethren  of  both  were  admitted  into  each  other's  Lodges,  never 
cherished  that  mutual  and  friendly  intercourse,  which,  by  the  princi- 
ples of  Freemasonry,  they  were  hound  to  institute  and  preserve. 
Such  was  the  relative  condition  of  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Scotland,  and 
that  of  England,  under  the  Prince  of  Wales,  on  the  day  of  the  pre- 
sent election." — (Hist,  of  Freemasonry,  p.  294.) 


ENGLISH    ROYAL    ARCH.  "  37 

Athol ;  that  the  Brethren  of  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Scot- 
land he  found  to  have  been  greatly  mismformed  upon  the 
point ;  having  always  been  led  to  think  that  this  Society 
was  of  recent  date,  and  of  no  magnitude;  but  uovt^, 
being  thoroughly  convinced  of  their  error,  they  were 
desirous  that  the  strictest  union  and  most  intimate  com- 
munication should  subsist  between  this  Grrand  Lodge 
and  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Scotland ;  and,  as  the  first  step 
towards  so  important  an  object,  and  in  testimony  of  the 
wishes  of  the  Scottish  Masons,  his  Royal  Highness  the 
Prince  of  Wales  had  been  unanimously  elected  Grand 
Master  of  Scotland.  That  the  said  Grand  Lodge  had 
expressed  its  concern  that  any  difference  should  subsist 
among  the  Masons  of  England,  and  that  the  Lodges 
meeting  under  the  sanction  of  the  Duke  of  Athol  should 
have  withdrawn  themselves  from  the  protection  of  the 
Ancient  Grand  Lodge  of  England:  but  hoped  that  mea- 
sures might  be  adopted  to  produce  a  reconciliation  ;  and 
that  the  Lodges  now  holding  irregular  meetings,  would 
return  to  their  duty,  and  again  be  received  into  the  bosom 
of  the  Fraternity.  That,  in  reply,  his  lordship  had  stated 
his  firm  belief,  that  this  Grand  Lodge  would  readily  con- 
cur in  any  measures  that  might  be  proposed  for  establish- 
ing union  and  harmony  among  the  general  body  of  Masons  ; 
yet,  that  after  the  rejection  of  the  propositions  made  by 
this  Grand  Lodge,  three  years  ago,  it  could  not  now, 
consistent  with  its  honour,  or  the  dignity  of  its  illustrious 
Grand  Master,  make  any  further  advances;  but  that,  as 
it  still  retained  its  disposition  to  promote  the  general 
interests  of  the  Craft,  it  would  always  be  open  to  accept 
of  the  mediation  of  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Scotland,  if  it 
should  think  proper  to  interfere. 

On  this  representation,  it  was  resolved  that  a  letter 
should  be  written  to  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Scotland, 
expressive  of  the  desire  of  this  Grand  Lodge,  that  the 
strictest  union  may  subsist  between  the  Grand  Lodge  of 
England  and  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Scotland ;  and  that  the 
actual  Masters  and  Wardens  of  the  Lodges  under  the 
authority  of  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Scotland,  who  may  be 
in  London,  on  producing  proper  testimonials,  shall  have 
a  seat  in  the  Grand  Lodge,  and  be  permitted  to  vote  on 
all  occasions.  A  communication  was  subsequently  re- 
ceived from  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Ireland,  desiring  to  co- 


38  ORIGIN    OF    THE 

operate  with  this  Grand  Lodge  in  every  jjarticular  which 
might  support  the  authority  necessary  to  be  maintained 
by  the  representative  body  of  the  whole  Craft  over  an 
individual  Lodge ;  and  pledging  itself  not  to  countenance, 
or  receive  as  a  Brother,  any  person  standing  under  the 
interdict  of  the  Grand  Lodge  of  England  for  masonic 
transgression.  It  w^as  therefore  resolved,  in  Quarterly 
Communication,  "  That  the  acting  Grand  Master  be  re- 
quested to  express  to  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Ireland,  the 
sense  which  this  Grand  Lodge  entertains  of  so  cordial  a 
communication."'*^ 

These  public  declarations  of  the  Grand  Lodges  of 
Scotland  and  Ireland,  appear  to  have  made  a  strong  im- 
pression on  the  ancient  Masons ;  who,  entertaining  an 
apprehension  that  their  authority  would  be  altogether 
superseded  by  such  a  coalition,  now  became  anxious  to 
complete  the  desired  re-union  of  the  two  bodies ;  and 
their  overtures  were  received  in  a  masonic  spirit  by  the 
authorities  of  the  constitutional  sections  of  tlie  Craft.  In 
the  year  1809,  it  was  resolved,  "That  it  is  not  necessary 
to  continue  in  foi"ce  any  longer  those  measures  which 
were  resorted  to  in  or  about  the  year  1739,  respecting 
irregular  Masons;  and  we,  therefore,  enjoin  the  Lodges 
to  revert  to  the  ancient  landmarks  of  the  Society.''''  An 
occasional  Lodge  was  then  appointed,  called  the  Lodge 
of  Promulgation,  as  a  preparatory  step  to  carrying  out 
the  union  of  ancient  and  modern  Masons. 

This  concession  was  responded  to  on  the  part  of  the 
ancients  by  the  resignation  of  the  Duke  of  Athol,  as  G. 
M.,  and  the  appointment  of  his  Royal  Highness  the  Duke 
of  Kent  to  that  office;  who  publicly  declared  at  his 
installation,  in  1813,  that  he  had  consented  to  accept  the 
office  solely  with  a  viev^^  of  promoting  and  effiscting  an 
union  between  the  ancient  and  modern  sections  of  the 
Craft.  His  Royal  Highness  the  Duke  of  Sussex  being, 
at  that  period,  the  G.  M.  of  the  Constitutional  Masons, 
the  two  royal  Brothers,  v^ith  the  advice  and  assistance  of 
three  learned  Masons  from  amongst  the  members  of  each 
division,  framed  a  series  of  articles  for  the  future  govern- 
ment of  the  United  Grand  Lodge.  On  the  one  side  were 
Waller   Rod  well   Wright,    Arthur   Tegart,    and    James 

*   ^'  Preston's  lUustr.,  p.  277,  279. 


ENGLISH    ROYAL    ARCH.  39 

Deans,  Esqrs. ;  and  on  the  other,  Thomas  Harper,  James 
Perry,  and  James  Agar,  Esqrs.  The  articles  were  signed, 
ratified,  and  confirmed,  and  the  seal  of  the  respective 
Grand  Lodges  affixed  on  the  1st  of  December,  1813.  It 
was  here  agreed,  "for  the  purpose  of  establishing  and 
securing  this  perfect  miiformity  in  all  the  warranted 
Lodges,  and  to  place  all  tlie  members  of  both  Fraternities 
on  the  level  of  equality  on  the  day  of  re-union,"  that  nine 
expert  Master  Masons  from  each  of  the  Fraternities, 
should  hold  a  Lodge  of  Reconciliation,  for  the  purpose  of 
settling  the  ceremonies,  lectures,  and  discipline,  on  such 
a  basis  that  "there  shall  be  the  most  perfect  unity  of 
obligation,  &c.,  so  that  but  one  pure  unsullied  system, 
according  to  the  genuine  landmarks,  laws,  and  conditions 
of  the  Craft,  shall  be  maintained,  upheld  and  practised, 
throughout  the  masonic  world."^"  When  all  these  pre- 
liminaries were  settled,  the  event  was  commemorated  by 
a  general  Grand  Festival;  and  it  is  confidently  hoped 
that  "  the  removal  of  all  these  slight  differences  which 
have  so  long  kept  the  Brotherhood  asunder,  will  be  the 
means  of  establishing  in  the  metropolis  of  the  British 
empire,  one  splendid  edifice  of  ancient  Freemasonry,  to 
which  the  whole  masonic  world  may  confidently  look  for 
the  maintenance  and  preservation  of  the  pure  principles 
of  the  Craft,  as  handed  down  to  them  from  time  imme- 
morial, under  the  protection  of  the  illustrious  branches 
of  the  royal  house  of  Brunswick ;  and  that  it  may  produce 
the  extension  and  practice  of  the  virtues  of  loyalty, 
morality,  brotherly  love,  and  benevolence,  which  it  has 
ever  been  the  great  object  of  Freemasonry  to  inculcate, 
and  of  its  laws  to  enforce. "^^ 

I  shall  conclude  my  letter  with  a  brief  statement  of 
the  present  condition  of  the  Royal  Arch  Degree,  as  it  is 
practised  in  different  countries,  which  I  consider  a  neces- 
sary proceeding,  for  reasons  which  I  shall  presently 
explain.  At  the  union  of  the  two  Grand  Chapters  of 
Royal  Arch  Masons  in  England,  in  1817,  the  title  of 
"  United  Grand  Chapter"  was  used  until  1822,  when  the 
title  of  "Supreme  Grand  Chapter"  was  resumed.  The 
English  Royal  Arch,  at  present,  according  to  the  Con- 

^  Articles  of  Union,  iii.,  v. 
"  Minutes  of  Grand  Lodge,  27th  Dec,  1813. 


40  ORIGIN    OF    THE 

stitutions,  appears  to  be  practised  as  a  fourth  Degree ; 
for  the  Past  Master,  though  now  elevated  into  a  distinct 
grade,  attended  with  certain  exclusive  privileges,  is  not 
essential  for  exaltation .^^  The  articles  of  union,  however, 
set  out  with  a  declaration  that  "  ancient  Masonry  consists 
of  three  Degrees  only,  including  the  Royal  Arch  f  and  the 
Supreme  Grand  Chapter  still  hold  the  doctrine  that,  in 
all  things,  wherein  by  analogy,  the  Constitutions  of  Craft 
Masonry  can  be  followed,  they  shall  determine  the  laws 
of  the  Royal  Arch.  Thus  the  connection  between  Craft 
and  Royal  Arch  Masonry  is  still  maintained,  although 
the  Degrees  diiEfer  in  design,  in  clothing,  in  constitutions, 
and  in  colour ;  and  the  proceedings  are  regulated  by 
different  governing  bodies.  In  1813,  the  union  of  Royal 
Arch  Masonry  with  the  Craft  Grand  Lodge,  being  con- 
sidered extremely  desirable,  his  Royal  Highness  the  Duke 
of  Sussex  was  invested  with  unlimited  powers  to  effect 
the  object.  On  this  resolution  the  editor  of  the  Free- 
masons' Quarterly  Review  thus  remarks: — "Well  had  it 
been  for  English  Freemasonry  if  this  object  had  been 
carried  out  to  its  fullest  extent;  which,  at  some  future 
time,  may  even  yet  be  effected. "^^  In  another  place  the 
editor  remarks: — "The  Royal  Arch  in  England  is  not 
essentially  a  degree,  but  the  perfection  of  the  third.  The 
entire  system  requires  careful  re-examination."^ 

There  still  exist  in  the  English  system  some  few 
anomalies  after  all  the  pains  which  have  been  bestowed 
upon  it  to  make  it  perfect.  I  refer,  in  the  first  place,  to 
the  names  of  the  scribes.  The  foundation  of  the  second 
Temple  was  laid  in  the  year  b.  c.  535 ;  after  which  the 
building  was  hindered  till  b.  c.  520  ;  when  it  went  on  by 
order  of  Darius,  and  was  dedicated  b.  c.  515.  But  Ezra 
did  not  come  up  from  Babylon  till  the  reign  of  Artaxer- 
xes,  B.  c.  457  ;  being  fifty-eight  years  after  the  dedication 
of  the  second  temple,  and  seventy-eight  after  the  founda- 
tions were  laid;  and  Nehemiah  was  not  made  governor 
till  twelve  years  later  than  that.  They  could  not  then 
have  been  participators  with  Z,  at  the  rebuilding  of  that 


5^  A  Master  Mason  is  now  considered  eligible  for  the  honours  of  the 
Royal  Arch. 

^  Freemasons'  Quarterly  Review,  1842,  p.  411. 
«  Ibid.  1843,  p,  464. 


ENGLISH    ROYAL    ARCH.  41 

sacred  edifice.  It  appears  probable  that  this  anachronism 
may  have  arisen  from  Ezra  having  recorded  in  his  first 
six  chapters  what  happened  from  sixty  to  eighty  years 
before  his  time;  and  from  the  name  of  Nehemiah, 
evidently,  as  Dean  Prideaux  shows,  a  different  person  of 
the  same  name,  appearing  in  Ezra  ii.,  2,  as  some  of  those 
who  accompanied  Z  out  of  Babylon.  Another  particular, 
about  the  propriety  of  which  I  entertain  some  doubts,  is 
in  the  arrangement  of  the  three  Principals,  Z,  H,  J.  I 
think  the  order  would  be  more  correctly  Z,  J,  H;  not 
only  because  J  is  recorded,  in  the  scripture  account,  as 
taking  an  active  part  with  Z,  but  also  because  the  office 
of  Priest  was  acknowledged  to  be  superior  to  that  of 
Prophet.  And  there  is  another  consideration  which,  in 
this  case,  is  of  some  importance,  that  our  Lord  entered 
first  upon  the  prophetical  office;  second,  on  the  sacerdotal, 
viz.,  at  Grolgotha;  and  tldrd,  on  the  regal,  viz.,  from 
Olivet.  These  and  some  other  anomalies,  which  need 
not  be  specified,  I  should  imagine,  might  easily  be 
amended. 

Our  Irish  Brethren  entertain  an  opinion  that  the 
English  mode  mixes  up  two  distinct  matters  ;  and  that 
the  time  used  in  England  for  the  events  of  the  Arch, 
belongs  properly  to  another  degree  ;  i.  e.  the  Knight  of 
the  Sword  and  the  East;  while  some  intelligent  Brethren 
consider  the  Royal  Arch  Degree  to  be  really  and  truly  a 
part  of  the  Order  of  the  East.  Their  system  consists  of 
three  Degrees:  the  Excellent,  Super-Excellent,  and  Royal 
Arch  ;  as  a  preliminary  step  to  which  the  Past  Master's 
Degree  is  indispensable.  The  two  first  are  given  in 
Lodges,  by  a  Master  and  Wardens  ;  and  the  last,  in  a 
Chapter  governed  by  three  Principals.  The  Excellent 
and  Super-Excellent  appear  to  refer  exclusively  to  the 
legation  of  Moses.  After  the  candidate  has  received 
these,  the  Chapter  is  opened,  the  events  of  the  Arch 
are  transacted,  and  the  Sublime  Secrets  disclosed  to 
them. 

In  Scotland,  great  changes  and  innovations  appear  to 
have  occurred  in  Freemasonry  at  a  very  early  period  ;  for 
in  the  charter  granted  by  the  Masons  to  William  St.  Clair, 
of  Roslin,  about  1600,  mention  is  made  of  "  many  false 
corruptions  and  imperfections  in  the  Craft,"  having  been 


42  ORiaiN    OF    THE 

introduced  for  want  of  "ane  patron  and  protector;"  and 
in  the  confirmation  of  this  charter,  in  1630,  the  Brethren 
repeat  that  "  there  are  very  many  corruptions  and  imper- 
fections risen  and  ingenerit,  both  amongst  ourselves  and 
in  our  said  vocations."  And  again,  in  the  same  document, 
they  give  as  a  reason  for  tlie  renewal  of  the  charter,  that 
it  had  become  necessary  "  for  reparation  of  the  ruines 
and  manifold  corruptions  and  enormities  in  our  said  Craft, 
done  by  unskilful  persons  thereintill."  What  these  cor- 
ruptions were,  is  not  specified ;  but  it  is  quite  clear,  from 
the  apprehensions  of  the  Fraternity,  that  fears  were  en- 
tertained lest  the  old  principles  of  the  Order  should  be 
entirely  extinguished.  It  is  doubtful  whether  the  Grand 
Scotch  degree  of  St.  Andrew  was  known  in  Scotland  at 
the  time  when  our  Royal  Arch  was  established,  as  it  is  a 
foreign  degree,  and,  at  present,  forms  the  twenty-eighth 
of  the  Rite  Ancien  et  Accepte.  Its  ceremonies  approxi- 
mate nearer  than  any  other  to  the  English  Royal  Arch, 
although  they  difier  widely  from  it.  In  1755,  mention  is 
made  of  the  Glasgow  Royal  Arch,  and,  four  years  later, 
the  Stirling  Royal  Arch ;  and  subsequently,  we  find  the 
Ayr  Royal  Arch,  the  Maybole  Royal  Arch,  &c. ;  but  how 
they  were  constituted,  or  what  rites  were  practised  in 
them,  is,  at  present,  very  uncertain.  In  the  best  rituals 
used  in  Scotland,  the  degree  of  Excellent  Master,  com- 
prehending three  steps — improperly  called  veils,  for  the 
temple  had  but  one  veil — is  supposed  to  be  given  at 
Babylon,  as  a  test,  to  prevent  mere  Master  Masons  from 
participating  in  the  privilege  of  building  the  second 
temple  ;  which  was  confined  to  those  who  were  liberated 
by  Cyrus,  and  consequently  returned  from  Babylon.  It 
was,  therefore,  a  temporary  degree  ;  but  during  the 
building,  an  incident  occurred  on  which  the  Royal  Arch 
was  founded ;  and  hence  the  Scotch  Masons  keep  up  the 
Excellent  as  a  sort  of  introduction  to  it. 

In  America,  we  find  an  essential  variation  from  any 
other  system  of  the  Royal  Arch.  The  names  of  the 
officers  vary  materially,  as  also  do  the  ceremonies.  As 
n  Ireland,  it  constitutes  the  Seventh  Degree,  although 
the  intermediate  steps  are  different.  In  Ireland  they  are, 
1.  E.  A  P.  2.  F.  C.  3.  M.  M.  4.  P.  M.  5.  Excellent. 
6.  Super-Excellent.     7.  Royal  Arch  ;  while  in  America 


ENGLISH   ROYAL    ARCH.  43 

the  fourth  is  Mark  Master.^^  5,  P.  M.^^  6.  Most  Excel- 
lent Master.  7.  Royal  Arch.  Until  the  year  1797,  no 
Grand  Chapter  of  Royal  Arch  Masons  was  organized  in 
America.  Before  this  period,  and  from  the  year  1764, 
when  it  was  first  introduced,  probably  by  Stephen  Morin 
who  had  been  in  England,  and  there  received  the  degree, 
a  competent  number  of  Companions,  possessed  of  suffi- 
cient abilities,  under  the  sanction  of  a  Master's  warrant, 
proceeded  to  exercise  the  rights  and  privileges  of  Royal 
Arch  Chapters  whenever  they  thought  it  expedient  and 
proper ;  although  in  most  cases  the  approbation  of  a 
neighbouring  Chapter  was  usually  obtained.^''  "  This 
unrestrained  mode  of  proceeding,"  says  Webb,^^  "  was 
subject  to  many  inconveniences  ;  unsuitable  characters 
might  be  admitted  ;  irregularities  in  the  mode  of  working 
introduced;  the  purposes  of  the  Society  perverted;  and 
thus  the  Order  was  degraded  by  falling  into  the  hands  of 
those  who  might  be  regardless  of  the  reputation  of  the 
Institution."  And  this  may  be  one  reason  why  the 
ceremonies  differ  so  essentially  from  those  which  are 
used  in  this  country. 

The  officers  of  a  Chapter  in  America  are,  a  High- 
Priest,  King,  Scribe,  Captain  of  the  Host,  Principal 
Sojourner,  Royal  Arch  Captain,  three  Grand  Masters, 
Secretary,  and  Treasurer.  The  warrants  issued  to 
private  Chapters  contain  an  authority  to  open  and 
hold  Lodges  of  Most  Excellent,  Past,  and  Mark  Master 
Masons  ;  the  High-Priest,  King,  and  Scribe,  for  the  time 
being,  to  act  as  the  Master  and  Wardens  of  the  said 
Lodges.^^ 

^^  In  the  National  Convention,  or  Meeting  of  Delegates  from  the 
Grand  Lodge  of  the  United  States,  at  Baltimore,  in  1843,  it  was 
decreed  that,  in  processions,  Mark  Masters  should  rank  next  to 
Senior  Wardens. 

^*  Dalcho  says  that,  in  America,  they  communicate  the  secret  of 
the  chair  to  such  applicants  as  have  not  already  received  it  previous 
to  their  admission  into  the  Sublime  Lodges ;  but  they  are  informed 
that  it  does  not  give  them  rank  as  Past  Masters  in  the  Grand  Lodge. 

^''  As  Morin  was  a  Grand  Inspector-General  of  the  Continental 

degrees,  he  would  have  conferred  the  Royal  Arch  in  his  consistory  if 

e  had  not  found  it  practised  under  the  sanction  of  blue  Masonry  in 

England ;  which  is  a  presumptive  proof  that  a  regular  Grand  Chapter 

of  the  Royal  Arch  had  not  been  formed  by  the  ancients  in  1764. 

^3  Monitor,  p.  178. 

"*  lu  constituting  a  new  Chapter,  the  Graad  High-Priest  uses  the 
4 


44  ORIGIN    OF    THE 

Thus  have  I  detailed  the  chief  varieties  in  the  different 
systems  of  Royal  Arch  Masonry.  My  reason  for  being 
thus  particular  is,  to  show  that  the  differences  are 
organic,  and  consequently  the  degree  cannot  be  of  any 
great  antiquity ;  for  if  it  v^ere,  there  would  exist  more 
uniformity  in  practice,  as  is  the  case  with  the  symbolical 
degrees,  which  may  undoubtedly  claim  a  very  ancient 
origin.  I  am  afraid,  however,  that  those  Brethren  and 
Companions  who  have  been  in  the  habit  of  valuing  the 
Eoyal  Arch  on  account  of  ics  antiquity,  will  be  sadly 
disappointed  to  find  it  thus  shorn  of  one  of  its  brightest 
attributes.^"  But  there  is  rather  cause  for  congratulation 
than  regret ;  for  what  can  be  fairer  or  more  desirable  than 
truth  ■?  The  degree  loses  none  of  its  excellences  by  being 
shown  to  be  of  modern  origin.  If  its  claims  to  antiquity 
were  not  well  founded,  its  advocates  were  maintaining 
a  fallacy;  and  often  found  themselves  in  a  dilemma  when 
proofs  were  demanded,  which  it  was  impossible  to  pro- 
duce. The  above  arguments  will  remove  many  doubts, 
by  at  least  placing  the  matter  in  a  clearer  point  of  view, 
even  if  they  be  not  allowed  the  merit  of  absolute  de- 
monstration. And  as  the  case  has  been  candidly  stated, 
without  any  offensive  reflections  on  the  parties  concerned 


following  expressive  form  : — "  By  virtue  of  the  high  powers  in  us 
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  Masters.  Past  Masters, 
and  Most  Excellent  Masters,  and  a  Chapter  of  Royal  Arch  Masons  ; 
and  to  do  and  perform  all  such  things  as  thereunto  may  appertain  ; 
conforming  in  all  your  doings  to  the  constitution  of  the  General 
Grand  Royal  Arch  Chapter ;  and  may  the  God  of  your  fathers  be 
with  you,  and  guide  and  direct  you  in  all  your  doings." 

^  I  find  myself  in  the  same  predicament  as  Sir  William  Drummond 
describes  in  his  preface  to  the  Origines ;  when  he  says,  "In  questions 
unconnected  with  sacred  and  important  interests,  men  are  rarely  very 
anxious  to  discriminate  exactly  between  truth  and  fiction ;  and  few 
of  us  would,  probably,  be  much  pleased  with  the  result,  could  it  now 
be  cei^tainly  jiroved  that  Troy  never  existed,  and  that  Thebes,  with 
its  hundred  gates,  was  no  more  than  a  populous  village.  It  is,  perhaps, 
stUl  with  a  secret  wish  to  be  convinced  against  our  judgment,  that  we 
reject,  as  fables,  the  stories  told  us  of  the  Grecian  Hercules,  or  of  the 
Persian  Rustem ;  and  that  we  assign  to  the  heroes  and  the  giants  of 
eai-ly  times,  the  strength  and  stature  of  ordinary  men."  So  it  is  with 
our  Royal  Arch.  We  wish  to  be  convinced,  even  against  our  judg- 
ment, that  it  is  an  ancient  degree,  because  our  prejudices  have  long 
-eii^ri&h^  so  .ple^eii^  ^  icl(9e» 


ENGLISH    ROYAL    ARCH.  45 

h.  the  transaction,  who,  it  is  believed,  were  conscien- 
tiously persuaded  that  the  design  would  confer  dignity 
on  the  Order,  no  exceptions  can  be  taken,  on  the  score 
of  partiality,  to  the  end  I  have  had  in  view,  which  is  the 
discovery  of  truth. 

In  this  letter,  my  dear  sir,  I  have  been  anxious  to  clear 
up  this  dark  problem  in  the  history  of  Masonry  ;  and  if 
I  have  been  successful,  the  time  I  have  employed  in  the 
investigation  has  not  been  ill  bestowed.  At  any  rate, 
the  hints  I  have  thrown  out  may  be  of  some  use  to  others 
in  discovering  the  origin  of  this  sublime  degree  ;  and  even 
in  that  case,  the  labour  and  research  have  not  been  alto- 
gether misapplied.  If  I  have  led  the  enquiries  into  a 
proper  track,  I  shall  have  accomplished  that  which  will 
shield  me  from  censure. 

Interdum  speciosa  locis,  morataque  recte 
Fabula,  nullius  veneris,  sine  pondere  et  arte, 
Valdius  oblectat  populum,  meliusque  moratur, 
Quam  versus  inopes  rerum  nugaeque  canorse.®' 

It  must  be  evident  to  you,  my  dear  friend,  and  to  every 
candid  reader,  that  in  these  suggestions  I  have  been 
actuated  by  no  other  motives  than  those  which  have 
influenced  a  long  and  active  life  in  the  cause  of  Free- 
masonry ;  viz., — a  high  veneration  for  its  sublime  quali- 
ties ;  a  love  of  its  principles,  not  to  be  subdued  by  any 
earthly  influence  ;  and  an  arduous  desire  to  remove  every 
objectionable  impediment.  I  have  devoted  the  humble 
talents  which  I  possess,  to  the  dissemination  of  its  beau- 
ties, under  many  disadvantages  ;  and  I  trust  that  I  have 
contributed,  in  some  slight  degree,  to  increase  its  influence, 
and  promote  its  popularity  in  the  world.  In  my  anxiety 
to  place  it  on  the  pinnacle  of  true  greatness,  based  on 
Charity,  crowned  with  Wisdom,  Strength,  and  Beauty, 
and  receiving  the  universal  testimony  of  human  applause, 
I  have  been  induced  to  investigate  its  claims  to  public 
approbation  ;  because  I  think  it  is  fairly  entitled  to  that 
flattering  eulogium  which  was  pronounced  on  the  writers 
of  the  English  Augustan  period  of  literature.  "  Such  an 
institution  as  this,  in  a  Roman  age,  would  have  been  more 
glorious  than  a  public  triumph ;  statues  would  have  been 

«  Hor.  de  art.  Poet.,  v.  320. 


46  ORIGIN    OF    THE    ENaLISH    ROYAL    4.RCH. 

raised,  and  medals  would  have  been  struck  in  honour  of 
its  supporters.  Antiquity  had  so  high  a  sense  of  grati- 
tude for  the  communication  of  knowledge,  that  they 
worshipped  their  law  givers,  and  deified  the  fathers  of 
science.  How,  then,  must  the)^  have  acknowledged  ser- 
vices like  these,  where  every  man  grew  wiser  and  better 
by  the  fine  instruction. "^^ 

Believe  me  to  be,  my  dear  Sir, 

Your  faithful  Brother, 

Geo.  Oliver,  D.  D. 

Scopwick  Vicaxage,  Nov.  5,  1846. 

^2  From  an  Essay  sacred  to  the  memory  of  Sir  Richard  Steele. 


THE     INSIONIA. 


THE  EOYAL  ARCH, 


AS  IT  WAS  USEO  AT   THE  FIEST  ESTABLISHMENT   OF  THE  DEGREE, 


llhstrateir  anir  (Srpiaiiuij, 


SECOND  LETTER 


ROBERT  THOS.  CRUCEFJX,  LL.D., 

GRAND  COMMANDER  OF  S.  G.  I.  G.  FOR  ENGLAND  AND  WALES  ; 

PAST  S.  W.  OF  THE  GRAND  LODGE  OF  MASSACHUSETTS,  AND  PAST  G.  D.  OF 

THE  UNITED  GRAND  LODGE  Or  EN3LAND. 


BY  THE 

REY.  GEO.  OLIVER,  D.D. 

LIEUT.    GRAND    COMMANDER    OF    S.  G.  I.  G.  FOR    ENGLAND   AND    WALES; 

PAST   D    G.  M.  OF   THE    GRAND    LODGE  OF  MASSACHUSETTS,  AND  PAST  D.  P.  G.  M. 

FOR  LINCOLNSHIRE. 


NEW  YORK. 

JNO.  W.  LEONARD  &  CO.,  AMERICAN  MASONIC  AGENCY. 
1855 


Stereotyped  by 
HOLMAW  4  GBAT,  KEW  TORK. 


Printed  and  Bmmd  by 

BBENKAN,   LOCISYILLB,    KT. 


THE  INSIGNIA  OF  THE  ROYAL  ARCH. 


My  dear  Sir  and  Brother, 

It  was  an  observation  of  Sir  H.  Davy,  that  "men  of 
genius  in  former  times  have  often  languished  in  obscurity, 
not  because  their  merits  were  neglected,  but  because 
they  were  not  understood.  This,  however,  can  scarcely 
happen  in  the  present  day,  in  which  all  sources  of  useful 
information  are  laid  open,  and  in  which  unparalleled 
exertions  have  been  made  in  the  higher  classes  of  society 
to  diifuse  useful  improvement,  and  to  promote  all  objects 
of  inquiry  which  can  benefit  or  enlighten  the  public. 
There  are  other  uses,  still  greater  uses,  resulting  from 
the  communication  of  general  and  popular  science.  By 
means  of  it  vulgar  errors  and  common  prejudices  are 
constantly  diminished.  It  offers  new  topics  for  conver- 
sation, and  for  an  active  exercise  of  the  understanding  ; 
and  in  cities,  it  assists  the  cause  of  morality  and  religion, 
by  preventing  the  increase  of  gross  luxury  and  indul- 
gence in  vicious  dissipation.  Man  is  designed  for  an 
active  being,  and  his  spirit,  ever  restless,  if  not  employed 
upon  worthy  and  dignified  objects,  will  often  rather 
engage  in  mean  and  low  pursuits,  than  suffer  the  tedious 
and  listless  feelings  connected  with  indolence ;  and 
knowledge  is  no  less  necessary  in  strengthening  the  mind, 
than  in  preserving  the  purity  of  the  affections  and  the 
heart." 

These  are  sentiments  which  I  have  long  applied  to  the 
(Science  of  Freemasonry  ;  and  have  accordingly  endea- 
voured to  illustrate  the  science  and  philosophy  of  the 
Order,  that  its  super-eminent  merits  may  be  open  to 
public  examination.  Whetherthe  Institution  has  derived 
any  benefit,  from  my  exertions,  must  be  left  to  the  de- 
cision of  the  Fraternity  ;  and  I  am  not  without  hope  that 


2  THE    INSIGNIA   OF 

the  sentence  will  be  favourable.  It  is  in  conformity  with 
these  principles  that  I  have  considered  it  necessary  to 
trouble  you  with  a  second  letter.  The  old  Tracing-board 
or  Floor-cloth,  which  is  prefixed  to  my  former  address, 
came  under  my  notice  too  late  to  receive  that  ample  con- 
sideration which  it  so  justly  merits  ;  and  the  Companions 
of  the  Order  will  not  be  displeased  to  find  that  I  have 
devoted  a  few  pages  to  its  exclusive  consideration  ;  be- 
cause it  embraces  doctrines  of  the  utmost  importance  to 
their  temporal  and  eternal  condition,  both  as  men  and 
Masons. 

The  old  Chapter  at  Chester,  to  which  this  curious 
document  belonged,  was  under  the  superintendence  of 
one  of  the  Grand  Principals  of  the  Supreme  Grand 
Chapter  in  London.  It  worked  the  veils,  and  the  scroll 
contained  the  first  words  of  the  Gospel  of  St.  John. 
The  prayer  at  the  opening  of  the  Chapter  concluded 
with  the  words,  "  Grant  this,  0  God,  for  the  great  Re- 
deemer's sake.  Amen."  The  first  Book  of  Constitutions 
of  the  Royal  Arch  was  issued  by  the  Supreme  Grand 
Chapter  in  1786,  and  the  laws  were  agreed  to,  10th  May, 
1782.  I  have  made  use  of  this  as  an  authentic  docu- 
ment, in  the  following  pages,  because  I  consider  its  evi- 
dence to  be  conclusive.  The  introductory  address,  from 
which  I  have  quoted  largely,  points  out  the  construction 
which  our  rulers  of  that  period  put  upon  "  The  Word," 
that  it  was  intended  "  to  convey  to  the  mind  some  idea 
of  Him  by  whom  all  things  were  made  ;  even  the  Word 
mentioned  by  St.  John,  who  was  in  the  beginning  with 
God,  and  was  God  ;  for  all  things  were  made  by  Him, 
and  without  Him  was  not  anything  made  that  was  made ; 
even  T.  G.  A.  0.  T.  U." 

The  first  Grand  Principal  by  whom  the  above-men- 
tioned code  was  signed  was  John  Allen,  and  he  was  the 
Grand  Superintendent  over  the  counties  of  Chester  and 
Lancaster  at  that  very  period,  and  consequently  the  above 
Chapter  and  its  mode  of  working  were  under  his  especial 
superintendence.  His  colleagues  were  Sir  Herbert  Mack- 
worth,  Bart.,  President  of  the  Council ;  James  Hesletine, 
John  Brookes,  and  John  Allen,  Esqrs.,  who  held  the 
great  seal  of  the  Order  in  commission,  and  were  Inspec- 
tors General ;  Francis  Const,  Esq.,  Treasurer ;  and  James 
Galloway,  Thomas  Dunckerley,  Richard  Garland,  and 


THE    ROYAL    ARCH.  3 

John  Allen,  Esqrs.,  Provincial  Superintendents ;  and 
with  these  were  associated,  all  under  the  grand  patronage 
of  H.  R.  H.  the  Duke  of  Cumberland,  Sir  Peter  Parker, 
Bart.,  Lieut.-General  Rainsford,  Thomas  Preston,  Esq., 
the  Rev.  John  Frith,  Bartholomew  Ruspini,  Esq.,  and 
other  eminent  Companions. 

I  now  proceed,  without  further  preface,  to  an  exami- 
nation of  the  Tracing-board  or  Floor-cloth. 

Throughout  the  entire  system  of  Freemasonry,  whether 
practised  by  heathens,  Jews,  or  Christians,  as  in  succes- 
sive ages  we  find  it  to  have  been,  the  Mason-word  always 
appears  surrounded  with  a  peculiar  mystery.  Its  various 
modifications,  as  it  passed  through  the  hands  of  those 
people  by  whom  it  was  consecutively  preserved,  have 
been  the  theme  of  endless  speculation  ;  and  there  is  no 
nation,  kindred  or  people,  with  whom  it  has  not  consti- 
tuted a  curious  subject  of  inquiry.  Even  its  pronunci- 
ation has  been  variously  interpreted  ;  and  some  have 
gone  so  far  as  to  refrain  altogether  from  using  it,  until,  as 
it  is  now  believed,  the  true  pronunciation  is  irrecoverably 
lost. 

The  same  thing  is  said  to  have  happened  amongst  the 
Jews  respecting  the  name  of  Jehovah.  They  were  afraid 
the  heathen  should  get  possession  of  it,  and,  therefore, 
in  their  copies  of  the  scriptures,  they  wrote  it  in  the 
Samaritan  character  instead  of  the  Hebrew  or  Chaldee, 
that  the  adversary  might  not  make  an  improper  use  of  it ; 
for  they  believed  it  capable  of  working  miracles  ;  and 
held  that  the  wonders  in  Egypt  were  performed  by 
Moses,  in  virtue  of  this  name  being  engraven  on  his  rod ; 
and  that  any  person,  who  knew  the  true  pronunciation, 
would  be  able  to  do  as  much  as  he  did.  In  like  manner, 
the  heathen  had  names  of  their  gods  which  it  was  not 
lawful  to  utter,  lest  Nature  should  be  subverted,  and  the 
earth  dissolved. 

The  followers  of  Mahomet  have  also  a  tradition,  that 
there  is  a  secret  name  of  the  deity  which  possesses  won- 
derful properties,  and  that  the  only  method  of  becoming 
acquainted  with  it  is  by  being  initiated  into  the  myste- 
ries of  the  Ism  Abla.  Lane  has  illustrated  its  power  by 
an  anecdote  from  the  Koran.  It  appears  that  two  rebel 
angels,  called  Haroot  and  Maroot,  were  believed  to  be 
confined  in  the  subterranean  caverns  which  exist  amidst 


«:  THE    INSIGNIA    OP 

the  ruins  of  Babylon,  and  there  suspended  by  the  feet 
for  an  indefinite  length  of  time.  They  had  been  sent 
amongst  mankind  as  examples,  and  had  sinned,  for  which 
this  punishment  was  inflicted  on  them.  The  celebrated 
Mujahid  visited  them  under  the  guidance  of  a  Jew,  who 
particularly  cautioned  him  not  to  mention  the  name  of 
God  in  their  presence  ;  but  when  he  beheld  them,  like 
two  mountains,  suspended  upside  down,  he  expressed  his 
astonishment  by  uttering  the  forbidden  name  ;  on  which 
the  two  angels  became  so  violently  agitated,  that  they 
almost  broke  the  irons  which  confined  them,  and  Mujahid 
and  his  guide  fled  in  the  utmost  consternation. 

From  the  above  belief  amongst  the  Jews,  enforced  by 
the  consideration  that  the  Shekinah  actually  delivered 
oracular  responses  to  the  high  priest,  the  idea  of  attach- 
ing oracles  to  the  heathen  temples  probably  originated ; 
and  in  all  cases  the  power  was  supposed  to  result  from 
a  cabalistic  use  of  the  name  of  the  deity;  and  these 
superstitions  descended  to  the  Mahometans  and  the 
Christians.  It  was  commanded  in  the  Jewish  law,  that 
sentences  from  the  scripture  should  be  inscribed  on  the 
door-posts  of  their  dwellings  ;^  and  therefore  the  Jews 
had  a  custom  of  writing  the  Decalogue  on  a  square  piece 
of  parchment,  which  they  rolled  up,  and  put  into  a  case ; 
and  after  inscribing  the  name  of  God  within  a  circle  on 
the  outside,  they  affixed  it  to  the  door-posts  of  their 
houses,  or  private  apartments,  and  considered  it  a  talis- 
man of  safety. 

It  was  probably  from  this  custom  that  the  prophet  of 
Mecca  recommended  his  followers,  when  they  closed  their 
doors  at  night,  to  repeat  the  name  of  God,  which  would 
render  them  impervious  to  the  intrusion  of  evil  genii. 
The  Arabs  have  some  curious  anecdotes  respecting  the 
use  that  Solomon  made  of  the  sacred  name.  It  was 
engraven  on  a  seal  ring,  composed  of  brass  and  iron 
mixed  ;  by  virtue  of  the  former  he  commanded  the  good, 
and  by  the  latter  the  evil  genii.  His  power  over  them 
was  unlimited,  and  they  add,  that  it  was  by  their  aid  that 
he  built  the  Temple  at  Jerusalem.  By  pronouncing  the 
Name,  his  minister  Asaf  transported  the  Queen  of  Sheba 
to  his  presence  ;  and  performed  other  wonderful  works. 

'  Deut.  vi.,  9. 


THE    ROYAT.    ARCH.  ^ 

The  magicians  of  our  own  country  made  a  similar  use 
of  the  sacred  name  of  God.  When  one  of  them  desired 
to  practise  his  art,  he  put  on  his  magical  robes,  accom- 
panied by  an  invocation  in  this  form  : — "  By  the  figurative 
mysteiy  of  this  holy  vestment,  I  v^^ill  clothe  me  with 
the  armour  of  salvation  in  the  strength  of  Adonai,  to 
whom  be  glory  and  praise  for  ever,"  After  other  cere- 
monies, which  are  of  no  moment  here,  he  invoked  the 
spirits  "  by  the  strong  and  mighty  name  of  Jehovah  ; 
by  his  holy  name  Tetragrammaton,  and  by  all  the  won- 
derful names  and  attributes,  Dadai,  Sillon,  Paracletos, 
&c.,  &c."  We  have  the  authority  of  King  James  for 
saying,  that  in  his  time  spirits  were  invoked  by  the  use 
of  "  circles  and  triangles,  double  and  single.''''  And  as 
with  the  Jews  and  Mahometans,  the  Christians  of  the 
middle  ages  were  imbued  with  a  firm  belief  that  the 
name  of  God  was  a  powerful  protection  from  unclean 
spirits.  The  charm  ran  in  this  form  : — "  In  nomine 
Patris,  et  Filii,  et  Spiritus  Sancti,  Amen.  4-  a  +  g  + 
I  -|-  a  -i".  Tetragrammaton.  -1-  Alpha  +  Omega.  + 
A.  i2.  -I-  Primogenitus,  -t-  Sapienta  -|-  Virtus.  +  Jesus 
Nazarenus  Rex  Judeorum.  +  Fill  Domini.  4-  Miserere 
mei.  +  Amen.  +  ]\Iatheus.  +  Marcus.  -|-  Lucas.  4-  Jo- 
hannes.   -1-  Mihi  succurrite  et  defendite.    4-  Amen.  4-." 

The  mystery  which  overshadows  the  Word  of  Free- 
masonry is  a  recommendation  which  has  always  been 
replete  with  interest,  and  constitutes  the  excitement 
that  leads  the  inquirer  from  one  degree  to  another,  till 
he  is  rewarded  by  a  participation  in  this  ineffable  secret. 
It  is  in  vain  that  the  oppugner  of  Masonry  aifects  to 
believe  that  we  possess  no  such  claims  on  the  attention, 
because  he  conscientiously  feels  that  he  is  feigning  an 
objection  which  cannot  be  substantiated.  He  envies 
our  knowledge,  although  prejudice  prevents  him  from 
sharing  in  the  advantages  it  conveys.  It  is  in  vain  that 
apostate  Masons  tell  the  world,  that  they  themselves 
were  urged  forward  from  step  to  step,  under  the  promise 
that  this  great  secret  would  be  ultimately  revealed,  but 
which  was  always  evaded  under  one  pretext  or  another. 
The  Brethren  of  the  Order  glory  in  the  possession  of  a 
secret  which  never  has  been,  nor  ever  can  be  revealed. 
"  It  is  as  a  strong  tower ;  the  righteous  runneth  into  it 
and  is  safe."^ 

«  Prov.  xviii..  10. 


6  THE    INSIGNIA    OF 

At  the  establishment  of  the  Royal  Arch  Degree  during 
the  last  century,  a  passage  from  the  first  chapter  of  St. 
John's  Gospel  was  introduced,  in  which  the  Logos,  or 
Word,  is  pronounced  to  be  T.  G.  A.  O.  T.  U.,  or  Christ, 
or  God,  on  the  authority  of  Holy  Scripture ;  for  Jehovah 
said,  by  the  mouth  of  his  prophet,  "  I  have  sworn  by 
myself,  and  the  Word  is  gone  out  of  my  mouth  in 
righteousness,  and  shall  not  return ;  that  unto  me  every 
knee  shall  bow,  and  every  tongue  shall  swear."^  Now 
these  very  words  are  twice  applied  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment to  Jesus  Christ.  St.  Paul  says,^  "We  shall  all 
stand  before  the  judgment  seat  of  Christ;  for  it  is 
•  written,  As  I  live,  saith  the  Lord,  every  knee  shall  bow 
to  me,  and  every  tongue  shall  confess."  And  again, 
more  plainly,^  "At  the  Name  of  Jesus  every  knee  shall 
bow." 

The  passage  above  referred  to,  was  used  by  the  holy 
Evangelist  to  refute  certain  heterodox  doctrines,  which 
had  been  propounded  by  the  Gnostics,  to  the  effect  that 
"the  Supreme  Deity  first  generated  an  only  begotten 
Son,  who  again  begat  the  Word,  which  was  inferior  to 
the  first  born.  That  Christ  was  inferior  to  the  Word. 
That  there  were  two  Spirits  distinct  from  Christ,  the 
one  called  Life,  and  the  other  Light;  and  that  the 
Creator,  or  the  G.  A.  0.  T.  U.,  was  a  still  lower  spirit, 
called  Demiurgus,  who  formed  the  world  out  of  eternal 
matter."  These  absurdities  were  set  at  rest  by  the 
passage  in  question;  which  was  the  beginning  of  his 
Gospel — "  In  the  beginning  was  the  Word,  and  the 
Word  was  with  God,  and  the  Word  was  God.  All  things 
were  made  by  him ;  and  without  him  was  not  any  thing 
made  that  was  made.  In  him  was  Life;  and  the  Life 
was  the  Light  of  men.  And  the  Light  shineth  in  dark- 
ness, and  the  darkness  comprehended  it  not." 

These  principles  are  clearly  illustrated  by  an  Old 
Tracing-board,  or  Floor-cloth,  of  the  degree,  of  which  I 
have  prefixed  an  Engraving  to  my  account  of  the  "  Origin 
of  the  English  Royal  Arch."  It  was  used  nearly  a 
century  ago  in  the  Chapter  at  Chester ;  and  exhibits  the 
interlacing  triangles,  within  a  circle,  in  the  centre  of  the 
Tablet;  while  at  the  foot  appear  the  names  of  the  three 

"  Isa.  xlv.,  23.  *  Rom.  xiv.  10,  11.  ^  Phil,  ii.,  10. 


THE    ROYAL   ARCH.  7 

Grand  Masters  at  the  building  of  King  Solomon's  Temple, 
in  Hebrew  and  Latin ;  and  certain  implements,  belong- 
ing equally  to  the  Tabernacle  and  the  Temple,  are  dis- 
posed round  the  border.  The  upper  part  or  head  of  the 
design  is  dignified  by  an  arched  fillet  or  canopy,  contain- 
ing the  inscription  en  apxh  hn  o  Aoroi:,  as  the  crowning 
glory  of  the  degree  ;  which  confirms  the  opinion  I  have 
always  entertained  respecting  the  commencement  of  the 
Sacred  Roll,  said  to  have  been  found  in  the  vault. 

Respecting  this  passage  of  scripture,  I  have  elsewhere 
stated  that  the  early  Christians  considered  it  to  be  a 
formula  in  use  from  the  most  ancient  times,  and  adopted 
by  St.  John  because  it  constituted  an  unanswerable  argu- 
ment in  proof  of  the  doctrine  which  he  was  anxious  to 
establish,  viz.,  the  eternal  divinity  of  Christ,  and  his 
identity  with  Jehovah,  as  the  Creator  of  the  world.  It 
is  recorded  by  Philostorgius,  and  after  him  by  Nicephorus, 
that  at  the  clearing  of  the  foundations  on  mount  Moriah, 
when  Julian  the  apostate  commenced  his  insane  attempt 
to  rebuild  the  temple,  a  stone  was  taken  up  that  covered 
the  mouth  of  a  deep  vault  sunk  into  the  rock.  One  of 
the  workmen  was  let  down  by  a  rope  fastened  round  his 
waist,  and  found  some  water  at  the  bottom,  out  of  which, 
in  the  centre  of  the  vault,  rose  a  pedestal,  on  which  lay 
a  Roll  or  Book,  wrapped  up  in  a  covering  of  fine  linen. 
Being  drawn  up,  and  the  Roll  unfolded,  it  was  found  to 
contain  the  Holy  Scriptureis,  beginning  with  the  words 
which  are  inscribed  on  the  uppermost  fillet  in  the  old 
Floor-cloth  above  referred  to.*' 

This  may  be  true,  or  it  may  not ;  but  I  am  persuaded 
that  the  first  words  of  St.  John's  Grospel  were  used  in 
the  degree,  because  it  was  intended  to  be  a  vehicle  for 
promulgating  the  essential  doctrines  of  Christianity.  And 
this  conclusion  appears  to  be  confirmed  by  the  following 
passage  in  the  old  lecture  of  the  degree — "The  Com- 
panions enter  into  the  Chapter  upon  the  Holy  Bible  and 
the  double  equilateral  triangle,  in  commemoration  of  the 
happy  discovery  of  the  Roll,  which  was  the  emblem  or 
prototype  of  the  Old  Testament ;  and  the  double  triangle 
placed  thereon  is  a  representation  of  Him  who  originated 
the  New  Testament  as  a  sequel  to  that  Sacred  Volume ; 

8  Philost.,  1.  vii.,  c.  14.    Niceph,,  1.  x.,  p.  76. 


O  THE    INSIGNIA    OF 

even  the  divine  Trinity  in  Unity."  And  in  another  place  it 
explains  that  "  the  three  Great  Lights  are  symbolical  of  the 
Sublime  Word  in  three  situations;  and  also  that  effulgent 
Light  w^hich  shines  forth  in  the  Gospel,  and  displays  the 
mystery  of  the  Trinity,  on  which  every  Christian  Brother 
rests  his  hopes  of  final  salvation."  And,  as  a  triumphant 
conclusion  to  this  portion  of  the  argument,  the  original 
formula  of  opening  the  Chapter  contained  this  remark- 
able passage  in  triad  form — 

'*  In  the  beginning  was  the  Word, 
And  the  Word  was  with  God, 
And  the  Word  was  God." 

The  Word  here  mentioned  was  the  true  Name  of  God 
in  every  age  of  the  world,  and  was  called  Jehovah 
amongst  the  patriarchs  and  Jews.  Moses  said  to  the 
latter,  "  The  Lord  (Jehovah)  God  of  your  fathers  hath 
sent  me  unto  you.     This  is  my  Name  for  ever."''' 

"And  God  himself,"  says  Dr.  Willet,^  "Jehovah, 
Christ,  the  Mediator  both  of  the  Old  and  New  Testa- 
ment, was  the  giver  of  the  law  ;  and  that  it  was  he  him- 
self that  talked  with  Moses,  by  these  reasons  it  is  made 
plain.  1.  Because  he  is  called  Jehovah,  wliich  is  the 
proper  and  essential  Name  of  God.  2.  Moses  himself 
saith,  Jehovah  spake  unto  you  out  of  the  midst  of  the 
fire.  And  3,  because  Origen  saith.  In  the  end  of  the 
world  Jesus  Christ  became  man ;  but  before  his  mani- 
festation in  the  llesh,  he  was  the  Mediator  between  God 
and  man  ;  and  Calvin  adds.  That  there  never  was  any 
intercourse  between  God  and  man,  but  by  Jesus  Christ." 

David  and  Hosea  make  the  same  declaration.  The 
former  says,  "Thy  Name,  O  Lord,  (Jehovah)  endureth 
for  ever;  and  thy  memorial,  0  Lord,  (Jehovah)  through- 
out all  generations;"^  and  the  latter,  "Even  the  Lord 
God  of  Hosts,  Jehovah  is  his  Narae."^"  The  Being  spoken 
of  in  these  passages  is  the  same  divine  personage  as 
Jesus,  the  founder  of  Christianity,  pronounced  by  St. 
John  to  be  T.  G.  A.  0.  T.  U.,  or  the  Creator  of  the 
world;  which  is  confirmed  by  St.  Paul — "Thou  Lord 
(Christ)  in  the  beginning  hast  laid  the  foundation  of  the 

'  Exod.  iii.,  15.  ,«  Hexapla,  p.  302. 

•  Psalm  oxsxv.,  13.  "^  Hosea  xii.,  5. 


THE    ROTAI.   ARCH.  9 

earth ;""  which  is  but  a  reiteration  of  what  the  psalmist 
had  already  affirmed  of  Jehovah^"  Of  old  hast  Thou 
(Jehovah)  laid  the  foundation  of  the  earth."^^  Again, 
the  prophet  Zechariah  had  said—"  I  will  dwell  in  the 
midst  of  thee,  said  Jehovah  ;"'^  and  "  they  shall  look  on 
me  (Jehovah)  whom  they  have  pierced  ;"i*  both  of  which 
were  applied  expressly  to  the  Saviour  of  mankind  by  St. 
John — "  The  Word  was  made  flesh,  and  dwelt  amongst 
las."^^  And  "  they  shall  look  on  him  (Jesus  Christ)  whom 
they  pierced."!^ 

Such  was  the  view  which  our  Brethren  of  the  last 
century  took  on  this  important  subject ;  and  in  a  short 
Essay  on  Freemasonry,  prefixed  to  the  first  copy  of  the 
Laws  and  Regulations  of  the  Royal  Arch,  which  were 
agreed  to  in  the  year  1782  by  the  Constitutional  Grand 
Lodge  of  England,  and  written,  as  I  conceive,  by  Bro. 
Dunckerley,  some  excellent  observations  on  this  Name 
occur,  which  merit  preservation.  "  Speculative  Masonry, 
or  the  Royal  Arch,  is  subdivided  into  as  many  distinct 
branches  as  there  are  arts  and  sciences,  and  the  parts  as 
various  as  there  are  subjects  for  investigation ;  and  we 
use  certain  signs,  tokens,  and  words  ;  but  it  must  be  ob- 
served, that  when  we  use  that  expression,  and  say  The 
Word,  it  is  not  to  be  understood  as  a  watchword  only, 
after  the  manner  of  those  annexed  to  the  several  degrees 
of  the  Craft,  but  also  theologically,  as  a  term,  thereby 
to  convey  to  the  mind  some  idea  of  that  Great  Being 
who  is  the  sole  author  of  our  existence,  and  to  carry 
along  with  it  the  most  solemn  veneration  for  his  sacred 
Name  and  Word,  as  well  as  the  most  clear  and  perfect 
elucidation  of  his  power  and  attributes  that  the  human 
mind  is  capable  of  receiving.  And  that  this  is  the  light 
in  which  the  Name  and  Word  hath  always  been  consid- 
ered, from  the  remotest  ages,  not  only  amongst  us 
Christians  and  the  Jews,  but  also  in  the  gentile  or 
heathen  world,  may  be  clearly  understood  from  number- 
less writers ;  but  to  mention  only  two.  Cicero  tells  us 
that  they  did  not  dare  to  mention  the  names  of  their 


"  Heb.  L,  10.  12  Psalm  cii.,  25.  >3  Zech.  ii.,  10. 

'*  Zech.  xiL,  10.  is  John  i.,  14. 

16  John  xix.,  37.  See  more  of  this  in  my  •'  Apology  for  the  Free- 
masons," p.  20. 


10  THE    INSIGNIA    OF 

gods ;  and  Lucan  says  that  but  to  name  the  Name  would 
shake  the  earth.  Amongst  the  Jews,  we  all  know  with 
what  a  just  and  aw^ful  veneration  they  look  upon  it ; 
which  many  of  them  carry  so  far  as  to  believe  that  but 
to  pronounce  the  Word  would  be  sufficient  to  work 
wonders  and  remove  mountains. 

"  Josephus  says  that  the  Name  was  never  known  till 
the  time  that  God  told  it  to  Moses  in  the  wilderness,  and 
that  he  himself  did  not  dare  to  mention  it,  for  that  it 
was  forbidden  to  be  used,  except  once  in  the  year,  by  the 
High-Priest  alone,  when  he  appeared  before  the  Mercy 
Seat  on  the  day  of  expiation.  He  further  adds,  that  it 
was  lost  through  the  wickedness  of  man  ;  and  hence  has 
arisen  a  difference  of  opinion  ;  some  supposing  the  Word 
itself  lost ;  others,  the  import  or  meaning  only ;  and 
many,  the  manner  of  its  delivery  ;  and  from  hence  con- 
tend that  Moses  did  not  ask  the  Almighty  for  his  name 
to  carry  to  his  Brethren,  but  for  the  true  delivery  or  pro- 
nunciation only.  How  far  that  might  be  the  case,  is  to 
us  uncertain ;  but  it  is  certain  that  the  true  mode  of 
delivery  cannot  now  be  proved  from  any  written  record  ; 
first,  because  it  is  capable  of  so  many  variations  from  the 
manner  of  annexing  the  Masoretic  points,  which  points 
were  not  extant  in  the  days  of  Moses;  and  secondly, 
because  the  language  now  in  use  amongst  the  Jews  is  so 
corrupt  and  altered  from  that  in  which  he  wrote,  that 
none  of  them,  except  some  few  of  their  learned,  under- 
stand any  thing  of  it ;  for  which  reason  the  Jews  call  it 
n-iiBTsn  d'^  Shem  Hamphoreth,  the  unutterable  Name. 
Hence  is  our  learned  Brother,  Pythagoras,  his  rsT^ay^afifia. 
rov  or  quaternion. 

"Philo,  the  learned  Jew,  tells  us  not  only  that  the 
Word  was  lost,  but  also  the  time  when,  and  the  reason 
why.  But  to  make  an  end  of  these  unprofitable  disputes 
among  the  learned,  be  it  remembered,  that  they  all  concur 
with  Royal  Arch  Masons  in  others  much  more  essential ; 
first,  that  the  Name  or  Word  is  expressive  of  Self-ex- 
istence AND  Eternity  ;  and  secondly,  that  it  can  be 
applicable  only  to  that  Great  Being  who  was,  and  is, 
and  WILL  be.  It  is  also  generally  allowed,  that  in  its  full 
sense  and  meaning,  it  must  be  incomprehensible  by  a 
human  capacity.  Nevertheless  we  hope,  so  far  as  it  hath 
yet  pleased  the  Omnipotent  to  reveal  it,  it  is  reserved 


THE    ROYAL   ARCH.  11 

for  the  honour  of  this  Society  to  shew  forth  to  the  world 
its  Glory,  Power,  and  Import,  in  a  much  more  perfect, 
clear,  and  ample  manner,  than  is  now  generally  done." 

These  observations  are  very  judicious,  and  served  well 
to  introduce  the  new  degree,  and  recommend  it  to  the 
notice  of  the  Fraternity.  It  is  much  to  be  regretted,  how- 
ever, that  Bro.  Dunckerley,  whose  influence  in  the  Order 
was  amply  sufficient  for  the  purpose,  did  not  improve  the 
degree  from  the  materials  which  he  derived  from  the 
ancient  Masons,  because  he  could  not  fail  to  perceive 
their  incongruity,  by  at  least  a  reconstruction  of  the 
Word  which  he  has  so  learnedly  described  in  the  above 
cited  passage ;  for  whoever  it  might  be  that  first  arranged 
its  members  in  their  present  from,  certainly  committed 
a  capital  error,  and  grievously  mistook  the  principles  on 
which  the  degree  appears  to  have  been  founded. 

It  is  doubted  by  the  Jews  whether  the  word  Jehovah 
be  the  true  name  of  God,  for  they  consider  it  to  be  irre- 
coverably lost  by  disuse  ;  and  regard  its  pronunciation  as 
one  of  the  mysteries  which  will  be  revealed  at  the  com- 
ing of  the  Messiah  ;  and  they  attribute  its  loss  to  the 
illegality  of  applying  the  Masoretic  points  to  such  a 
Sacred  Name,  by  which  a  knowledge  of  the  proper  vowels 
is  forgotten.  It  is  even  said  in  the  Gemara  of  Abodah 
Zara,  that  God  permitted  a  celebrated  Hebrew  scholar 
to  be  burned  by  a  Roman  Emperor,  because  he  had  been 
heard  to  pronounce  the  Sacred  Name  with  points. 

The  author  of  the  above  tract,  however,  very  properly 
alludes  to  the  Tetragrammaton  as  forming  the  basis  of 
the  lost  Word ;  which  in  the  Jewish  writings  is  spelled 
Jehovah  or  Jah.  But  in  the  forms  which  it  now  assumes 
it  is  either  quadriliteral,  as  nin^,  or  bihteral,  as  n-i,  which  is 
one  of  the  titles  of  the  Messiah,  and  plainly  refers  to  the 
advancing  of  a  R.  A.  Mason ;  for  3  +  5  +  7  are  equal  to 
lO"!  -I-  5n  =  15.  This  word,  as  numbered  by  the  cabalists, 
is  '1,  10  +  n,  5  +  1,  6  +  n  5  =  26.  The  mystical  cube  and 
plumb-line,  and  the  figures  which  compose  it  being  added 
together  give  the  number  8.  Now  the  word  IHSOTi:, 
corresponding  with  the  above  word  t^,  being  numbered 
makes/,  10+^,  8  +  ^,  200+O,  70+r,  400  +  ^,  200-888, 
or  THREE  cubes.  But  the  Royal  Arch  Degree  is  founded 
on  the  number  three,  and.  therefore,  each  member  of  the 
Word  ought  to  have  been  triliteral.     Again,  the  cabalists 


12  THE   INSIGNIA   OF 

used  this  form  of  the  Word,  which  is  an  illustration  of 
the  same  principle, 


Sometimes  expressed  thus,  triangularly, 


This  designation  of  the  Ineffable  Name  was  a  symbol 
of  the  creation ;  and  the  mysterious  union  of  T.  Gr.  A.  0. 
T.  U.  with  his  creatures  was  in  the  letter  n  He,  which 
they  considered  to  be  the  agent  of  Almighty  power,  and 
to  enable  the  possessor  of  the  Name  to  work  miracles. 
It  was  also  the  symbol  of  the  Trinity  in  Unity. 

Amongst  the  Syrians,  the  Chaldeans,  the  Phoenicians, 
and  others,  the  Ineffable  Name  of  the  Deity  was  Bel, 
Bal,  Bui,  Baal,  or  Belin.  There  are  some  doubts  whether 
it  was  not  biliteral ;  for  we  find  K\  El,  ba  Bel,  and  ^s<-3K 
Ab-El,  signifying  Pater-Deus.  The  triliteral  name  was 
^-n  Baal. 

Again,  the  Egyptians  and  Hindoos  reverenced  On,  or 
Om,^.  e.  Aun,  or  Aum,  as  the  name  oftheir  chief  deity;  who 
was  also  considered  by  the  Canaanites  as  the  Creator,  or 
the  prolific  power,  probably  the  solar  orb;  and  the  same 
name  is  compounded  in  the  Philistine  deity  Dag-On,  or 
in  other  words,  the  receptacle  of  On,  which,  perhaps,  in 
their  physical  theology  might  refer  to  the  ark  of  Noah. 
It  is  also  found  in  the  names  of  places  in  the  same 
country,  as  Tzid-Aun,  (Sidon),  Herm-On,  Hebr-On,  &c. ; 
and  the  Chaldean  Cannes  was  0-Aun-Nes.  Amongst 
the  Jews,  during  the  Theocracy,  the  worship  of  Tera- 
phim,  whatever  they  might  be,  was  connected  with  that 
of  Aun.  Thus  the  original  of  1  Sam.  xv.,  23,  is  — "As 
the  sin  of  divination  is  rebellion,  so  is  Aun  and  Teraphim 
stubbornness  and  iniquity."  And  the  same  thing  occur- 
red at  a  later  period ;  thus  Zechariah  accuses  them  by 
saying,  "Your  Teraphim  have  announced  Ann;"  which 


THE    ROYAL    ARCH.  13 

in  our  translation  is  called  "  vanity,"  and  was  a  solar 
oracle,  which  is  nothing  but  vanity.^'  The  fact  appears 
to  be,  that  they  consulted  the  God  Aun  though  the  me- 
dium of  the  Teraphim,  as  Jehovah  was  consulted  by 
Urim  and  Thummim,  or  perhaps  before  the  cherubic 
emblem,  which  is  called  by  the  Jews,  "  the  very  pith 
and  marrow  "  of  their  mode  of  worship.  Faber  has  taken 
a  somewhat  similar  view  of  this  subject,  and  concludes 
that,  "  by  a  plausible  though  wretched  abuse,  the  Che- 
rubim, or  Seraphim,  or  Teraphim,  became  the  symbolic 
faticidal  gods  of  paganism  ;  and  as  the  principal  hero-god 
of  that  system  was  thought  to  have  migrated  into  the 
sun,  and  was  thence  astronomically  worshipped  as  the 
solar  deity,  the  Teraphim  are,  by  the  inspired  writers, 
justly  associated  with  the  Egyptian  On,  who  is  the  same 
as  the  Indo-Scythic  Om  of  the  Brahmins."^^  It  is  remark- 
able that  this  word  was  also  used  by  the  early  Christians 
to  express  the  divine  Being  whom  they  worshipped, 
O  QN^  y.ai  6  Tjv,  y.ai  6  sQiofiEvos,  "  God,  which  is,  and  was,  and 
is  to  come."^^  But  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  the 
heathen,  while  acknowledging  their  chief  god  to  be  the 
maker  of  the  universe,  did  not  understand  it  in  the  sense 
which  we  affix  to  it.  They  held  that  God  built  the 
world  out  of  existing  materials  ;  while  the  Jews,  as  well  as 
Christians,  believe  that  he  created  it  out  of  nothing. 

The  application  of  these  materials  to  the  purpose  of 
Royal  Arch  Masonry  would  have  been  easy;  and  yet  the 
usual  combinations  of  them  have  failed  to  form  a  word 
in  strict  correspondence  with  the  evident  intention  of  the 
founders  of  the  degree ;  for  though  it  was  termed  the 
fourth  degree,  and  included  a  reference  to  the  Tetragram- 
maton,  yet  the  Triad  was  considered  to  be  its  distin- 
guishing element.  The  chief  officers,  the  sojourners,  the 
original  Grand  Lodges,  the  lights,  the  form  of  the  jewels, 
and  other  particulars,  are  so  many  unanswerable  proofs 
of  it.  The  frequent  references  to  a  trinity  in  unity,  as 
well  as  the  construction  of  the  word  itself,  leave  us  no 
choice  in  the  interpretation  of  the  design  which  was 
intended  to  be  conveyed  in  this  sublime  degree. 

It  was  evidently  a  determination  on  the  part  of  its 

"  Zectu  X.,  2.  18  Eight  Diss.,  vol.  i.,  p.  391. 

"  Eev.  i.,  4. 


14  THE    INSIGNIA   OF 

founders  to  construct  a  link,  by  which  FreemaBonry 
might  be  unequivocally  connected  with  Christianity ;  for 
the  word,  however  it  might  be  compounded,  resolves  it- 
self into  Jehovah,  which  was  the  name  of  the  divine 
Logos,  or  Christ,  being  formed  of  sr^,  the  essence^  O  iiN, 
He  who  simply  is,  and  Mi!i,  always  existing,  which  is  the 
character  assigned  to  Christ  in  the  Apocalypse — "He 
who  was,  and  is,  and  shall  be — the  Eternal/'^"  This 
hypothesis  is  of  sufficient  importance  to  merit  a  free 
examination. 

Before  the  fall  of  man  we  have  plain  indications  of  the 
appearance  of  Jehovah,  or  the  word  of  God  in  para- 
dise.^^  After  our  first  parents  had  sinned,  "they  heard 
the  VOICE  of  Jehovah  walking  in  the  garden."^^  Now, 
who  was  this  "voice  of  Jehovah  ?"  It  could  not  be  God 
the  Father,  because  St.  John  positively  affirms  that  no 
man  hath  seen  God  at  any  time."^  And  adds,  that  "he 
declares  himself  by  means  of  his  only  begotten  Son." 
It  must,  therefore,  have  been  Christ,  who  is  called  else- 
where, "the  Angel  of  the  Covenant,"  "the  Branch," 
"Jehovah  our  Righteousness,"  &c.,  that  thus  conferred 
with  our  erring  progenitors.  This  is  confirmed  by  the 
terms  of  the  prophecy  of  Balaam,  who  calls  his  victori- 
ous Star,  who  is  to  smite  and  annihilate  the  worshippers 
of  On  and  Om,  Aun,  and  Baal  Peor,  by  this  very  title  of 
the  "  Voice  of  Jehovah. "^^  This  appears  to  have  been 
the  opinion  of  the  early  Christians,  for  Theophilus  Anti- 
ochenus^  says  expressly,  "the  Word,  or  voice  of  God, 
came  into  paradise  and  talked  with  Adam." 

This  is  the  sense  in  which  the  passage  is  explained  by 
the  Targumists;  for  they  agree  to  render  it,  "  they  heard 
the  WORD  of  the  Lord  God  walking,  &c. ;  the  Jerusalem 
Targum  paraphrases  the  beginning  of  Gen.  iii.,  9,  by 
"the  WORD  of  the  Lord  called  unto  Adam."  The  word, 
therefore,  that  called  was  the  word  or  voice  that 
walked."^^  Indeed,  the  old  Chaldee  paraphrase,  the 
Jerusalem  Targum,  and  the  most  learned  rabbinical  com- 
mentators, interpret  Jehovah  who  communed  with  Adam 


^  Rev.  xi.,  17.  21  (^en.  ii.,  16-18.  ^  Gen.  iii.,  8. 

^  John  i.,  18.  24  Numb,  xxiv.,  17.  ^  Ad  AutoL,  1.  2. 

^'  See  Maimon.  Mor.  Nevich.,  p.  i.,  c.  24 ;  Tzet.  Hammor,  s.  Beresh. 
apud  Owen.  Exerc.  x.,  in  Heb.  vi.,  1 ;  Faber,  8  diss.,  i.  28. 


THE    ROYAL    ARCH.  15 

to  be  the  Memra  or  Messias.  And  Jonathan  and  Onkelos 
add,  that  "he  judged  the  old  world  by  his  Word;"  that 
he  "  made  a  covenant  with  Abraham  by  his  Word;"  and 
that  "he  would  redeem  mankind  by  his  Word."^^ 

In  like  manner,  Christians  of  all  ages  and  times  have 
held  the  opinion,  that  Jehovah  who  apjDeared  to  man  in 
the  time  of  the  patriarchs  was  Christ.  Thus,  for  exam- 
ple, that  which  the  angel  spake  to  Hagar^^  is  said  to  be 
spoken  by  Jehovah ;^^  and  the  same  angel  said,  "I  am 
the  God  (Jehovah  or  El  Shaddai)  of  Bethel."  ^^  This 
angel,  who  is  styled  in  other  places  the  Angel  of  the 
Covenant,^^  the  Angel  of  God's  presence,^^  and  the  Name 
of  God,*'  was  no  other  than  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
according  to  the  unanimous  opinion  of  all  antiquit}^ 

If  further  proofs  of  this  invaluable  truth  be  wanting, 
they  are  at  hand.  The  Almighty  says,  by  the  prophet 
Isaiah,^*  "I  am  Jehovah,  and  tliere  is  none  else;  there  is 
no  God  beside  me."  But  St.  John  says,  "  the  Word  was 
God;"^^  and  St.  Paul  affirms,  "Christ  came,  who  is  God 
over  all;  God  blessed  for  ever."^''  Therefore  Christ  is 
Jehovah  or  God.  The  glorious  Name  which  was  given 
to  Moses  at  the  burning  bush,^^  was  assumed  by  Christ 
himself,  when  he  said,^^  "Before  Abraham  was,  I  AM," 
not  I  was,  but  I  AM.  This  name,  iT^nx,  is,  therefore, 
esteemed  by  the  modern  Jews  inferior  to  the  Tetragram- 
maton,  because,  they  say,  though  it  demonstrates  the 
divine  essence,  yet  it  forms  only  a  part  of  that  sacred 
name;  for  numerically  it  is  only  twenty-one,  while  the 
Tetragrammaton  is  twenty-six. 

The  most  ancient  Jewish  writers,  instead  of  Jehovah 
use  the  name  Memra,  by  which  they  intend  to  signify  the 
Son  of  God.  Now,  as  some  of  these  learned  men  lived 
before  and  about  the  time  of  Christ,  their  opinions  on 
this  point  may  be  received  as  positive  evidence  of  the 
fact.  In  the  passages  of  their  sacred  writiags,  where  the 
name  of  Jehovah  occurs,  they  substitute  Memra  Jeho- 
vah, or  the  Word  of  God,  to  whom  they  ascribe  the 

^  Jerusaleiu  Targiun  on  Gen.  xlix.,  18.  ^^  Gen.  xvi.,  7-11 

2«  Gen.  xvi.,  13.  ^o  Q^n.  xsxi.,  13.  ^'  Mai.  iii.,  1. 

^2  Isai.  Ixiii.,  9.  =»  Exod.  xxiii.,  21.  ^'^  Isai.  xlv.,  5. 

3*  John  i.,  1.  36  Rom.  i.,  8.  ^7  Exod.  iii.,  14 

»8  John  viii.,  58. 
2 


1^  THE    INSTGXIA    OF 

creation  of  the  world,  as  we  do  to  Christ ;  and  all  the 
divine  manifestations  which  we  find  there,  they  say  were 
effected  by  Memra. 

In  addition  to  this  evidence,  w^hich  is  exceedingly 
valuable,  we  may  also  remark  that  in  our  authorized 
translation  of  the  scriptures,  the  Septuagint  version  has 
been  followed  in  rendering  the  word  Jehovah  by  Kv^ios, 
or  Lord;  and  whenever  the  word  Lord  appears  in  the 
English  Bible,  it  stands  for  Jehovah  in  the  original ;  to 
which  name  the  Jews  associate  much  superstition  and 
mystery.  Many  of  the  ancient  lathers  assert,  that  in 
their  copies  of  the  Bible  the  Name  was  written  in  Sama- 
ritan characters,  that  it  might  not  be  polluted  by  the 
heathen. 

If  to  the  above  reasoning  we  subjoin  the  testimony  of 
early  Christian  writers  on  this  point,  it  will  complete  the 
chain  of  evidence,  that  the  name  of  Jehovah,  and  the 
Word  spoken  of  by  St.  John,  and  inserted  in  the  Tracing- 
board  of  the  English  Royal  Arch,  are  one  and  the  same 
person.  Justin  Martyr^**  says — "Our  Christ  conversed 
with  Moses  out  of  the  bush,  in  the  appearance  of  lire." 
And  again"*" — "It  was  the  Son  of  God  who  spoke  to 
Moses."  Irenccus  affirms,*^  that  "it  w^as  the  Word  of 
God  who,  in  a  divine  and  glorious  manner,  conversed 
with  the  patriarchs."  Tertullian  is  equally  decisive  on 
the  subject,  when  he  tells  his  adversary  that  "it  was 
Christ  w^ho  conversed  upon  earth  from  the  beginning; 
and  that  it  was  He  who  appeared  on  all  occasions  to  the 
patriarchs  and  prophets. ""*'  Athanasius,  Hilary,  Basil, 
and  Cyril  of  Jerusalem,  speak  to  the  same  effect;  and 
our  Bishop  Bull  affirms,  that  it  was  the  unanimous 
opinion  of  all  primitive  antiquity. 

A  further  proof  of  the  Christian  reference  of  the  Royal 
Arch  Degree  is  found,  not  only  in  certain  passages  of  the 
lectures  which  represent  "  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the 
life,"  as  characteristic  of  the  Redeemer,  and  a  direct 
mention  of  "  the  second  person  in  the  glorious  Trinity," 
but  also  in  its  characteristic  symbol  or  mark ;  for  the 
TRIPLE   TAU  was  uukuown  before  the  dispensation   of 

«  Apol.,  1.  «  Apol.,  2.  «  L.  iii.,  c.  11. 

*2  Adv.  Marc,  1.  ii.,4,27. 


THE    ROYAL    ARCH.  17 

Christ  was  promulgated,  and  the  main  hinge,  on  which 
all  its  illustrations  were  suspended,  was  the  advent  of 
Shiloh  when  the  sceptre  had  departed  from  Judah.  Now 
a  sceptre,  being  figuratively  put  for  government,  because 
it  is  an  ensign  of  royalty,  it  referred  literally  to  tlie  just 
and  righteous  government  of  King  Solomon,  but  mystic- 
ally to  the  government  of  Christ,  which  is  more  just 
and  righteous,  over  the  faithful  people  of  God,  and  is, 
therefore,  emphatically  called  "a  sceptre  of  righteous- 
ness.'"*^ 

The  Jews,  however,  affect  to  believe  that  the  word 
shebet  in  the  Hebrew  text,  which  we  interpret  a  sceptre, 
signifies  a  rod,  which  is  an  instrument  of  chastisement; 
and,  therefore,  they  contend  that  it  means,  that  their 
dispersion  amongst  strange  nations  shall  not  cease  till 
their  Messiah  shall  come  to  deliver  them  from  it.  Chrisl 
began  his  public  ministry  at  a  solemn  jubilee ;  and,  there- 
fore, he  said — "  The  Lord  hath  anointed  me  (as  the  Christ) 
to  preach  the  Gospel  to  the  poor,  he  hath  sent  me  (as 
Shiloh,  or  the  Apostle)  to  heal  the  broken  hearted,  to 
proclaim  deliverance  to  the  captives,  and  restoration  of 
sight  to  the  blind,  to  set  at  liberty  the  bruised,  and  to 
preach  the  acceptable  year  of  the  Lord."^^  Mr.  Taylor, 
after  proving  satisfactorily  that  the  Shiloh  here  mentioned 
could  be  no  other  than  Christ,  adds — "Our  Lord  was 
the  only  branch  of  David's  family  entitled  to  rule,  and 
if  the  royalty  had  continued  in  that  family,  he  would 
have  sat  upon  the  throne  of  Israel ;  and  he  dying  with- 
out issue,  the  ruling  branch  of  that  family  became 
extinct;  so  that,  after  his  death,  there  was  no  longer  any 
possibility  of  the  continuance  of  the  kingly  office  in  the 
direct  and  proper  line  of  David.  The  person  who  should 
have  held  the  sceptre  was  dead ;  the  direct  descent 
of  the  family  expired  with  him,  the  sceptre  was  hondjide 
departed ;  since,  first  it  was  actually  swayed  by  a  stran- 
ger or  strangers  (Herod  and  the  Romans) ;  and,  secondly, 
no  one  who  could  possibly  claim  it,  though  he  might 
have  been  of  a  collateral  branch  of  David's  house,  could 
have  been  the  direct  legal  claimant  by  birth-right ;  for 
that  person  was  crucified!     Such  is  the  language  Provi- 

«  Heb.  i.,  8.  «  Lixke  iv.,  18. 


18  THE    INSIGNIA    OF 

dence  put  into  the  mouth  of  Pilate — '  Shall  I  crucify 
YOUR  KING?'  'Yes,'  say  the  Jews,  'we  reject  the  lineal 
descendant  of  David,  and  prefer  Caesar.'  Rome  triumphs ; 
David  expires  in  the  person  of  his  son ;  and  with  him 
expires  all  direct  claim  of  right  to  the  sceptre.  The 
sceptre  is  departed  from  David,  and  if  from  David — ■ 
from  Judah — Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  King  of  the 
Jews!"'*^ 

In  the  Royal  Arch  Degree  the  name  of  Grod  is  depicted, 
as  in  the  centre  of  our  Floor-cloth,  by  a  double  interla- 
cing triangle,  thus  s^  ,  inscribed  within  a  dark  circle, 
representing  unlimited  space  beyond  the  reach  of  light, 
and  the  top  representing  the  "light  shining  in  darkness, 
and  the  darkness  comprehending  it  not,"'*'^  as  a  continua- 
tion of  the  divine  sentence  at  the  summit  of  the  Floor- 
cloth.''^ This  had  been  used  a  a  Christian  symbol,  to 
denote  the  two  natures  of  Jehovah,  the  God-man,  for 
centuries  before  the  Royal  Arch  Degree  was  ever  thought 
of.  In  this  form  ^,  or  the  above,  it  was  called  the 
pentangle,  or  seal  of  Solomon,  and  the  shield  of  David, 
and  was  employed  all  over  Asia  as  a  preservative  against 
witchcraft,  in  which  superstition  the  Jews  are  said  to 
have  participated ;  for  they  used  written  charms  enclosed 
in  the  above  hexagonal  or  pentangular  figure,  and  dis- 
posed cabalistically,  which  were  worn  about  their  necks. 
It  constituted  the  Pythagorean  pentalpha,  and  was  the 
symbol  of  health.  Thus  Pireius  says — 
"Pentagonum,  salutis  symbolum  fuisse ; 
autem  illi  hujusmodi  ostendisse,  triangu- 
lum  triplicem  invicem  insertum  ex  lineis 
quinque  constantem;  in  quibus  TriElA 
scriptura  erat.  Sic  enim  sal  us  sanitasve 
G-rsece  appellatur." 


Taylor's  Calmet  in  loc.  ''^  John  i.,  5. 

"^  I  have  at  length  succeeded  in  obtaining  the  name  and  number  of 
the  Chapter  at  Chester,  whei-e  the  above  Floor-cloth  was  used.  It 
was  called  the  Chapter  of  St.  Michael,  No.  24,  and  is  dated  Feb.  9, 
1781.  The  warrant  differs  very  little  from  the  present  form,  except 
that  it  is  dedicated  to  "  the  Almighty  Jah,  jZj."  It  is  signed  by  the 
three  Chiefs,  two  Scribes,  and  three  Sojourners,  and  also  by  three 
Inspectors  Greneral.  An  old  jewel,  which  belonged  to  this  Chapter, 
has  a  mitre  upon  it,  on  which  is  inscribed  "  Holiness  to  the  Lord." 


THE    ROYAL    ARCH.  19 

Christians  used  it  to  represent  the 
five  wounds  of  Christ,  thus ;  and  hence 
it  was  formerly  referred,  in  the  old 
lectures  of  Masonry,  to  the  birth,  life, 
death,  resurrection,  and  ascension  of 
the  Saviour  of  mankind.  And  the  for- 
mula which  was  used,  even  so  recent- 
ly as  the  early  part  of  my  masonic 
life,  is  worth  preserving  : — 

"  What  do  we  learn  by  his  birth  ?  He  being  the  day- 
star  of  mercy,  hath  risen  to  conduct  our  feet  in  the  paths 
of  peace  and  holiness. 

"  What  by  his  life  ?  All  the  moral  and  social  virtues, 
he  being  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  life. 

"  What  by  his  death  ?  That  our  debt  is  paid,  the  law 
satisfied,  and  our  redemption  completed. 

''  What  by  liis  resurrection  ?  A  victory  over  death  and 
the  grave,  wherein  resteth  our  justification. 

"What  by  his  ascension?  That  he  is  gone  before  to 
prepare  a  place  for  his  faithful  people,  that  where  he  is, 
there  may  they  be  also." 

The  above  symbol  is  very  common  in  Asia,  even  at  the 
present  day.  Mr.  Drummond  Hay,  speaking  of  the 
ornaments  in  the  harem  of  a  Moor,  mentions  "  a  brass 
frame  composed  of  two  intersecting  triangles,  as  a 
chandelier."  These  kind  of  lamps  or  lanterns  are  very 
common ;  and  in  the  palace  of  a  monarch  they  are  often 
of  great  magnificence.  I  subjoin  an  engraving  of  one  of 
these  lanterns,  with  the  pentangle  of  Solomon  attached."^^ 

The  next  great  and  distinguishing  symbol  of  the 
Royal  Arch  Degree  is  the  tau  cross  triplified,|Ij.  And 
as  the  former  was  the  seal  of  Solomon,  and  considered 
capable  of  warding  off  earthly  dangers,  so  is  this  the  seal 
of  Christ,  and  competent  to  guard  the  recipient  from 
such  dangers  as  are  spiritual.  This  latter  seal  is  baptism, 
accompanied  by  the  crucial  sign.  Thus  Valesius,  and 
others  expound  it,  and  term  it  "  the  seal  of  our  Lord," 
because  in  the  very  nature  of  it  there  is  contained  a  cove- 
nant made  between  God  and  man,  of  which  the  sign  or 

^^  In  the  "Landmarks  of  Masonry,"  this  pentangular  symbol  is 
fully  illustrated ;  and  I  refer  the  curious  reader  to  vol.  ii.,  pp.  355  and 
659,  for  further  information ;  and  some  remarks  may  also  be  foliud  in 
the  "Theocratic  Philosophy,"  p.  169. 


so 


THE    IXSIGNIA    OF 


symbol  of  the  cross  is  the  seal.  Hence  Thecla  said  to  St. 
Paul — "  Give  me  the  seal  of  Christ  and  no  temptation 
shall  have  power  over  me."  And  the  shepherd  Hermas, 
speaking  of  some  who  had  died  after  baptism,  says — 
"  They  were  sealed  with  the  seal  of  the  Son  of  God,  and 
are  entered  into  the  kingdom  of  God.  For  before  a  person 
receives  the  sign  of  the  Son  of  God,  he  is  consigned 
over  to  death  ;  but  wdien  he  receives  that  seal,  he  is  freed 
from  death  and  consigned  over  to  life."  And  hence  the 
cross  was  the  symbol  of  life  ;  and  when  triplified,  it  was 
an  emblem  of  life  eternal. 

This  remarkable  figure,  at  its  first  construction,  was 
an  emblem  used  by  the  eastern  Christians  as  a  monogram 
of  the  sacred  name  of  Christ.  The  original  form  appears 
to  have  been  this  ^k  ,  a  combination  of  the  Greek  xp 


i 


THE    ROYAL    ARCH.  21 

(Chr),"^  the  two  first  letters  in  XPIITOI;  and  it  was 
placed,  as  a  talisman  of  protection,  on  the  summit  of  the 
ensign  staff  by  Constantine ;  thus  occupjring  the  same 
honourable  position  as  the  Egyptian  ibis,  the  Athenian 
owl,  or  the  Roman  eagle.  It  soon  became  an  universal 
Christian  symbol,  although  the  form  of  its  construction 
underwent  many  variations,  as  may  be  seen  in  tha 
curious  work  of  Aringhius,  called  "Koma  Subterranea ;" 
amongst  which  is  found  the  triple  tau  of  our  Royal  Arch 
Degree,  and  the  motto  was,  in  hoc  sigmo  vixces  !  It  was 
subsequently  transferred  to  the  official  seals  of  several 
Roman  pontiffs  ;  from  whence  it  passed  into  general  use 
in  all  Christian  countries  ;  and  formed  part  of  an  inscrip- 
tion on  an  old  bell  in  Great  Grimsby  church,  of  which  I 
subjoin  a  correct  copy. 

The  above  monogram  merged  into  the  triple  tau  during 
the  life-time  of  Constantine,  and  appears  not  only  on  his 
coins,  but  on  those  of  his  successors ;  and  certain  con- 
tractions afterwards  sprang  into  use,  which  were  as 
highly  reverenced  as  the  original  symbol.  First  we  find 
the  two  first  letters  in  the  Greek  name  of  Jesus,  IHEOYS, 
used  as  a  monogram,  or  mysterious  sign,  to  represent  the 
name  of  Jehovah  or  Christ,  which  were  sometimes  so 


^^"The  bas-reliefs  of  the  ancient  ambones  of  the  Cathedral  of 
Rouen,  now  incrusted  into  the  wall  behind  the  choir,  are  curious  as 
exhibiting  in  distinct  rows,  the  fish,  the  dove,  the  lamb,  the  stag,  the 
peacock,  &c.,  the  whole  sacred  menagerie,  as  Mr.  Hope  calls  it,  of 
symbohsm.  These  tombs  throw  an  interesting  hght  on  the  origin  of 
three  tufts  or  rays  of  glory,  emblematical  of  the  Trinity,  which  sur- 
round our  Saviour's  head  in  the  productions  of  early  Italian  painting, 
and  even  in  the  early  works  of  Raphael,  Titian,  and  their  contempo- 
raries. ^J  have  little  doubt  of  their  being  a  corruption  of  the  well 
known  monogram  of  our  Saviour's  name,  formed  by  the  Greek  letters 
X  and  P."     (Lord  Lindsay's  Christian  Art.,  vol.  1.,  p.  103.) 


2g  THE    INSIGNIA    OF 

disposed  as  to  form  the  triple  tau,  the  I  being  placed  upon 
the  H  in  the  form  of  a  cross,  thus  p^;  and  subseqently, 
when  the  third  letter  of  the  above  name,  ^  or  C,  was 
added,  the  symbol  assumed  this  form  Ij3:|C,  for  which  the 

western  church  substituted  the  Roman  letters,  / /TC 

which  are  still  profusely  used  by  the  Roman  Catholics  ; 
and  many  protestant  pulpits  are  inscribed  with  the  sacred 
J  f\  S.s" 

The  above  are  the  initial  letters  of  tlie  Grreek  inscrip- 
tion placed  by  Pilate  on  the  cross  of  our  blessed  Saviour, 
of  which  I  subjoin  a  fac-simile,  taken  by  Dr.  Adam 
Clarke  from  a  copy  of  the  Codex  Bezce,  which  was  first 
delineated  in  the  fourth  century,  and  resembles  the  auto- 
graphs of  the  earliest  ages  of  Christianity. 


/HCOTC    0  NkXCOf^OC 

0   BXCIAeYC    VCDAI 
rOYA\JCON' 


It  is  well  known  that  the  Greek  2"  was  anciently  con- 
structed like  the  Roman  C,  and  was  so  used  for  several 
centuries;  and  therefore  the  IHC  of  the  eastern  church 
was  improperly  changed  by  its  rival  of  the  west  to  the 
Roman  IHS. 

Occasionally   we   find   an    abbreviation   of  both   the 

*°  In  a  letter  which  I  have  recently  received  from  Bro.  Willoughby, 
of  Birkenhead,  he  says — "I  was  struck  with  an  observation  which 
fell  from  an  old  Scottish  Mason,  who  was  exalted  on  our  last  Chapter 
day.  After  the  ceremony  he  was  looking  round  the  room,  in  order 
to  take  a  calmer  view  of  the  arrangements,  and  seeing  the  plj  upon 
the  plinth  of  the  altar,  he  asked  me,  '  What  are  you  doing  with  that 
figure  here  ?'  '  Why  do  you  ask  V  said  I.  '  Because  it  is  what  we 
call  the  Holy  Jesus,'  was  his  reply.  He  is  a  builder  in  an  extensive 
way,  and  said  that  he  had  often  met  with  it  in  old  churches,  and  that 
it  was  always  called  '  The  Holy  Jesus,'  or  Jesus  the.  Saviour  of  man-. 
kind.    IHS." 


THE    ROYAL    ARCH.  at> 

names  of  Christ  used  as  a  monogram ;  thus  IC  XC, 
because  these  letters  were  supposed  to  represent  the 
position  of  Christ's  right  hand  when  elevated  in  bene- 
diction, as  M.  Didron  explains  it,  "  L'index  s'allonge 
comme  un  I ;  le  grand  doigt  se  courbe  connne  un  C, 
ancien  sigma  des  Grecs,  le  pouce  et  I'annulaire  se  croisent 
pour  faire  un  X,  et  le  petit  doigt  s'arrondit  pour  figurer 
un  C.  Tout  cela  IC-XC,  monogramme  Grec  de  Jesus- 
Christ  (^Ir^aovO  X^«(7ToC)."^^  It  was  sometimes  expressed 
I|I{C  XC,  and  sometimes  XPC.  And  it  does  not  vitiate 
the  argument  to  consider  that  this  monogram  Ip-|y  was 
the  mysterious  badge  of  the  Jesuits,  and  worn  upon  the 
sleeve  of  their  garments  ;  as  if,  to  use  the  language  of 
Henry  Burton,  "with  the  name  of  Jesvs,  inchanter-like, 
they  would  coniure  downe  the  spirit  of  truthe,  and 
coniure  vp  the  spirit  of  pontitician  errour  and  sedition 
againe  in  this  our  churche."^'-^  It  rather  confirms  our 
view  of  the  subject,  by  showing  that  this  triple  tau  or 
cross  was  publicly  used  and  sanctioned  for  ages  by  the 
highest  authorities  of  the  Christian  church. 

Another  form  which  this  ever  varying  monogram 
assumed  was  the  vencapiscis,  an  ancient  Platonic  symbol, 
but  identified  with  Christ,  (and  in  a  fresco  painting  of 
the  Last  Judgment,  in  the  chapel  of  the  Arena  at  Padua, 
by  Giotti,  the  Saviour  is  represented  as  seated  witiiin  the 
vesica  piscis),^^  by  the  substitution  of  a  Greek  word  for 
a  fish,  ixeT2:,  the  letters  of  which  formed  the  initials  of 
the  name  and  character  of  the  Redeemer.  'Iriaovs  Xoiarog 
&SOV  Tios  J^coTTiQ,  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  oJ\  God,  our  Saviour. 
We  frequently  find,  not  only  in  Freemasonry  but  else- 
where, the  addition  of  the  Greek  letters  A  and  i2  subjoined 
to  all  and  each  of  the  above-mentioned  monograms,  to 

SI  Icon,  de  Dieu,  p.  212. 

^  Triall  of  Private  Devotions,  A.  d.  1625. 

^  "  Amongst  the  Mosaics  in  the  nave  of  St.  Maria  Maggiore  at 
Rome,  we  find  a  design  of  the  Israelites  stoning  Moses  and  Aaron  in 
their  flight  to  the  Tabernacle,  on  the  morning  after  the  punishment  of 
Korah,  Dathan,  and  Abii'am,  a  hand  from  heaven  suiTOunds  them 
Virith  a  vesica  piscis,  from  which  the  stones,  arrested,  fall  innocuously 
to  the  ground  ,•  while  a  third  figure  (hke  the  fourth  in  the  fiery  fur- 
nace of  the  three  children)  appears  beside  them,  witliin  the  vesica 
piscis,  intended  doubtless  for  our  Saviour."  (Lord  Lindsay,  ut  supra, 
p.  101.) 


24  THE    INSIGNIA    OF 

denote  the  eternity  of  Christ  as  Jehovah.     Thus  Du- 
cange — 

Circulus  hie  summi  comprendit  nomina  regis, 
Quem  sine  principio  et  sine  fine  vides. 

Principium  cum  fine  simul  tibi  donat  A  cum  Si  ; 
X  et  P  Christi  nomina  sancta  teneut/''' 


We  will  now  examine  how  far  this  doctrine  is  applica- 
ble to  Royal  Arch  Masonry.  It  appears  from  evidence 
which  is  incontrovertible,  that  this  g.eat  and  holy  Being 
was  known  under  the  same  name,  or  one  which  very 
nearly  resembled  it,  in  almost  every  nation  under  tlie 
canopy  of  heaven,  however  they  might  have  departed 
from  the  true  faith  and  manner  of  worship.  By  one  he 
was  called  Ivah,  or  Evah  ;  by  another,  Javoh ;  by  others, 
Jevah,  Jove,  Jupiter,  &c.  Macrobius,  in  his  Saturnalia 
(1.  i.,  18),  says,  that  it  was  an  admitted  axiom  amongst 
the  heathen,  that  the  triliteral  Jah,  or  rather  lAi},  was 
the  sacred  name  of  the  Supreme  God.  And  the  Clarian 
oracle,  which  was  of  unknown  antiquity,  being  asked 
which  of  the  deities  was  named  lAii,  answered  in  these 
memorable  words : — 

"  The  initiated  are  bound  to  conceal  the  mysterious 
secrets.  Learn  thou,  that  lAii,  is  the  Great  God  Supreme, 
who  ruleth  over  all." 

Now  it  so  happens,  that  in  the  gems  of  the  early 
Christians  we  find  these  very  letters,  IAi2,  which  are  an 
abbreviation  of  the  name  of  Jehovah,  used  as  a  mono- 
gram to  express  the  name  of  the  Saviour  of  mankind, 
who  was  thus  represented  as  existing  before  time  was, 
and  shall  exist  when  time  shall  be  no  more.  It  was 
first    adopted    by    the    eastern    church,   and    signified 

^  Gloss.,  V.  10,  apud  lo.  Anton.  Caetill.  de  antiquitate  Basil. 


THE    ROYAL    ARCH.  25 

Itjaovs,  Alipa  i2,ueya,  Jesus,  Alpha  Omega,  or  in  other  words, 
Jesus,  the  first  and  the  last.'^^  And  this  is  consonant 
with  the  decision  of  Ducange,  who  says  that  the  letters 
A  and  ii  "  designantes  Christi  divinitatem  et  humanita- 
tem,"  like  the  intersecting  triangles  of  the  English 
Royal  Arch. 

But  this  appropriation  of -^1  and  ii  to  Jesus  Christ  does 
not  rest  on  the  opinions  of  men,  but  it  is  frequently  and 
plainly  prochiimed  in  the  Word  of  God.  Jehovah  applies 
it  to  himself  in  these  remarkable  words  ; — "  Thus  saith 
Jehovah,  the  King  of  Israel,  his  Redeemer,  the  Lord  of 
Hosts,  I  am  the  Jirst,  and  I  am  the  last,  and  besides  me 
there  is  no  other  God."^''  But  Jesus  Christ  claims  these 
titles — "  Behold  I  come  quickly,  to  give  to  every  man 
according  as  his  work  shall  be.  I  am  Alpha  and  Omega, 
the  beginning  and  the  end,  the  first  and  the  last.'"'''''  And 
again,  in  another  place — "  I  am  A  and  -0,  the  beginning 
and  the  ending,  which  is,  and  was,  and  is  to  come,  the 
Almighty."^^  And  he  glories  in  the  title,  which  his  be- 
loved disciple  attributes  to  him  saying — "  These  things 
saith  the  First  and  the  Last,  that  was  dead  and  is  alive. "^^ 
On  this  account  it  was  that  he  commenced  his  Gospel 
with  that  memorable  passage  which  occupies  such  a 
prominent  situation  on  the  old  Royal  Arch  Tracing- 
boards — "Li  the  beginning  was  the  Word,"  that  is,  ^ 
and  Q\  and  more  significantly  expressed  in  the  central 
symbol  of  the  sacred  name.  But  his  eternity  is  more 
plainly  avouched  by  St.  Paul.  The  royal  prophet  David 
had  said — "  They  all  shall  wax  old,  as  doth  a  garment, 
and  as  a  vesture  shalt  thou  change  them,  and  they  shall 
be  changed ;  but  Thou  art  the  same,  and  thy  years  shall 
not  fail."^"  These  very  words  are  applied  by  the  apostle 
to  Jesus  Christ  f"  and  again,''^  he  says — "  Jesus  Christ  is 
the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever ;"  which  was  an 
appropriation  of  tlie  words  of  Jehovah  by  the  prophet — 
"  I  am  Jehovah,  I  change  not."^^ 

The  Royal  Arch  word,  to  have  been  perfectly  in  keep- 
ing with  the  degree,  and  with  the  general  construction 
of  Masonry,  should  have  been  a  triad  not  only  of  sylla- 


5* Rev.  xxii.,  13.  ^Isaiah  xUv.,  6.  ^7  jjev.  xxii.,  12,  13. 

«8Rev.  i.,  8.  »3Rev.  ii.,  8.  ^o  Psalm  cii.,  27 

«  Heb.  xi.,  11,  12.        «Heb.  siii.,  8.  •»  Mai.  ui.,  6. 


26  THE    INSIGNIA    OF 

bles  but  also  of  letters.  Our  transatlantic  Brethren 
have  seen  this  in  its  true  light ;  but  they  have  corrected 
the  error  unlearnedly.  It  ought  to  have  been,  if  the  prin- 
ciple of  its  construction  be  allovt^ed,  to  be  orthodox. 

I  Syriac         I        Chaldee        I        Hindoo        | 

And  to  have  made  it  intelligible  to  a  mere  English 
scholar,  which  description  v^iil  apply  to  a  great  majority 
of  Royal  Arch  Masons,  it  should  be  translated  to  them 
thus — 

I  English  I        Englisli        I       English        I 

I  cannot  be  more  explicit  for  obvious  reasons  ;  but  every 
Companion  of  the  Order  will  be  at  no  loss  to  understand 
my  meaning. 

Having  thus,  at  some  length,  explained  the  tendency 
and  various  significations  of  that  magnificent  and  sublime 
symbol  which  occupies  the  centre  of  the  Floor-cloth,  as 
it  was  understood  by  our  Brethren  of  the  last  century — 
the  Deity  surrounded  by  infinite  universal  space ;  his 
eternity  being  declared  by  the  awful  £N  APXH  HN  o 
AOroi:,  which  forms  the  crowning  glory  of  the  design — 
"The  light  shining  in  darkness,  and  the  darkness  com- 
prehending it  not ;"  I  proceed  to  an  examination  of  the 
subordinate  figures,  which  constitute  so  many  symbols, 
or  types,  illustrative  of  the  doctrine  which  has  already 
been  enunciated,  the  chief  of  which  had  been  abstracted 
from  the  Third  Degree. 

The  diagrams  underneath  the  centre  arch  are  some- 
what difficult  of  solution  at  this  distance  of  time,  when 
every  clue  is  lost  by  which  their  true  design  might  be 
explained.  They  consist  of  two  single  triads  of  circles, 
and  a  figure  composed  of  three  sides  of  a  square,  com- 
bining seven  circles.  The  most  obvious  interpretation 
appears  to  be,  that  the  angular  triad  refers  either  to  the 
three  original  Grand  Lodges  on  mounts  Sinai  and  Horeb, 
each  governed  by  as  many  Grand  Masters;  or  to  the 
three  Principals  of  the  Chapter,  symbolized  by  the  three 
key-stones,  to  show  that  as  a  knowledge  of  certain  mys- 
terious secrets  was  attained  by  drawing  them  forth,  so 
by  passing  through  these  offices  a  kxiQwledge  of  the 


THE    ROYAL    ARCH.  27 

arcana  of  Royal  Arch  Masonry  may  be  successfully  ac- 
complished. Now  tliese  three  Principals  are  described 
in  the  original  rules  of  the  Degree  (a.  d.  17S2)  thus: — 
"  The  three  Principals  in  Chapter  assembled  are  to  be 
considered  conjunctly,  as  the  Master,  and  each  several 
ly  as  A  Master."  Hence,  in  their  aggregate  capacity 
they  represent  o:srE  person  only,  in  whom  is  united  the 
different  attributes  of  king,  priest,  and  prophet.  For  as 
there  is  a  trinity  of  persons  in  the  godhead,  so  there  was 
a  trinity  of  offices  combined  in  the  second  person  when 
incarnate,  which  is  clearly  represented  in  the  diagram. 
Now  it  will  be  observed  that  these  Principals  are  three 
only  in  name,  not  in  office.  They  are  not  1  Z,  2  H,  3  J, 
but 

The  Master. 
I 


!  I  I 

H  Z  J 

They  are,  therefore,  typical  of  Jehovah-Christ,  in  whom 
these  offices  are  permanently  united  in  their  utmost  per- 
fection, and  in  him  alone.  This  arrangement  is  one  of 
the  great  beauties  of  the  Degree. 

It  is  possible  that  the  angular  triad  might  also  bear  a 
reference  to  the  three  great  lights,  which  were  at  that 
period  interpreted  to  symbolize  "  the  light  of  the  Gospel, 
and  the  sublime  mystery  of  the  trinity."  The  linear 
triad  bore  a  reference  to  the  sojourners,  who  represented 
the  three  stones  on  which  prayers  and  thanksgivings 
were  offered  on  the  discovery  of  the  lost  v^^ord  ;  thereby 
affording  an  example,  that  it  is  our  duty  in  every  im- 
portant undertaking,  to  offer  up  our  prayers  and  thanks- 
givings to  the  God  of  our  salvation.  While  the  quad- 
rangular diagram  reminds  us  of  the  seven  pair  of  pillars 
which  supported  King  Solomon's  private  avenue,  the 
seven  steps  in  advancing,  and  the  seven  seals;  for  in 
those  days  the  OB  was  sealed  seven  times. 

The  figures,  however,  being  read  from  right  to  left, 
may  have  a  reference  to  the  three  Degrees  of  Craft  Ma- 
sonry, the  three  divisions  of  Operative,  and  the  seven 
divisions  of  Speculative  Masonry;  the  latter  of  which, 
in  those  times,  was  identified  with  the  Royal  Arch  Degree, 


28  THE    INSIGNIA    OF 

and  referred  to  the  seven  liberal  sciences ;  and  both  were 
thus  explained  in  the  lectures  of  the  day : — 

"Freemasonry  is  to  be  considered  as  divided  into  two 
parts,  the  Operative  and  the  Speculative ;  and  these  are 
again  subdivided,  the  Operative  (that  is  Craft  Masonry) 
into  three  distinct  branches,  the  manual,  the  instrumen- 
tal, and  the  scientific.  The  manual  consists  of  such 
parts  of  business  as  are  performed  by  hand  labour  alone, 
or  by  the  help  of  some  simple  instruments,  the  uses 
whereof  are  not  to  be  learnt  by  any  problems  or  rules  of 
irt,  but  by  labour  and  practice  only;  and  this  is  more 
peculiarly  applicable  to  our  Brethren  of  the  First  De- 
gree, called  Entered  Apprentices. 

"  The  instrumental  consists  in  the  use  and  application 
of  various  tools  and  implements,  such  as  the  common 
gage,  the  square,  the  plumb-line,  the  level,  and  others 
that  may  be  called  mathematical,  invented  to  find  the 
size  or  magnitude  of  the  several  parts  or  materials 
whereof  our  buildings  are  composed,  to  prove  when  they 
are  wrought  into  due  form  and  proportion,  and  when  so 
wrought,  to  fix  them  in  their  proper  ]3laces  and  positions; 
and  likewise  to  take  the  dimensions  of  all  bodies,  whether 
plain  or  solid,  and  to  adjust  and  settle  the  proportions  of 
space  and  extent.  To  this  part  also  belongs  the  use  of 
various  other  instruments  or  machines,  such  as  the  lever, 
the  wheel  and  axle,  the  wedge,  the  screw,  the  pulley, 
&c.,  which  may  be  called  mechanic,  being  used  to  for- 
ward and  expedite  our  business,  to  alleviate  our  toils, 
and  enable  us  to  perform  that  by  a  single  hand  which 
could  not  be  done  without  many,  and  in  some  cases  not 
at  all ;  and  those  more  properly  belong  to  our  Brethren 
of  the  Second  Degree,  styled  Fellowcrafts. 

"  The  scientific  consists  in  the  knowledge  of  several  of 
the  arts  and  sciences,  so  far  as  to  enable  us  to  discern  the 
reason  for  the  operations  of  those  before-mentioned  in- 
struments, tools,  and  machines,  and  to  calculate  the  force 
and  momentum  of  the  different  mechanical  powers;  and 
also  to  cle^r  up  and  arrange  our  ideas  in  such  a  manner, 
as  to  be  able  to  delineate  them  so  clearly  on  our  Tracing- 
board,  that,  by  the  help  of  a  proper  scale,  our  Brethren 
of  the  Second  Degree  may  take  them  off  and  complete 
our  design,  and,  if  intended  for  that  purpose,  erect  a 
structure,  which,  when  finished,  shall  contain  the  greatest 


THE    ROYAL    ARCH.  29 

possible  degree  of  strength,  elegance,  and  convenience, 
that  the  quantity  of  materials  and  space  allowed  will 
admit  of;  and  this  is  the  part  of,  or  applicable  to,  our 
Brethren  of  the  highest  Degree  of  the  Craft  of  Master 
Masons. 

"To  each  of  these  Degrees  belong  certain  signs,  tokens, 
and  watch-words,  well  known  amongst  the  Brethren, 
and  also  a  variety  of  instructive  maxims  and  apothegms, 
the  former  intended  to  detect  impostors,  and  exclude  the 
unworthy  from  their  Lodges ;  and  the  latter  to  strengthen 
the  memory,  to  correct  the  judgment,  and  habituate  the 
mind,  by  a  due  course  of  reasoning,  to  trace  up  causes 
from  effects,  and  thereby  explode  the  dogmata  of  every 
false  hypothesis;  and  thus  we  are  handed  on  Irom  in- 
fancy to  childhood,  from  childhood  to  youth,  from  youth 
to  manhood ;  and  by  the  instructions  received  in  passing 
through  the  several  probationary  Degrees  of  the  Craft, 
are  prepared  for  our  own  most  sublime  one,  namely, 
Speculative  Masonry,  or  the  Royal  Arch,  intended  for  the 
cultivation  of  every  art  and  science  that  the  human  mind, 
m  this  sublunary  state,  is  capable  of;  and  particularly 
the  seven  liberal  sciences,  which  are  so  many  branches 
of  that  universal  science  called  Freemasonry;"  which 
may  account  for  the  seven  circles  in  the  quadrangular 
figure  before  us. 

The  remaining  emblems  mostly  belong  to  the  Third 
Degree,  although,  for  a  brief  period,  they  were  incorpo- 
rated into  the  Royal  Arch,  as  apposite  illustrations  of  the 
lucid  emblem  in  the  centre  of  the  Tracing-board.  They 
were  appendages  equally  to  the  Tabernacle  of  Moses, 
and  the  Temple  of  Solomon;  but  were  not  all  restored 
after  it  had  been  rebuilt  by  Zerubbabel.  We  have  here 
the  golden  candlestick,  the  table  of  shew-bread,  the 
censer  or  altar  of  incense,  the  pot  of  manna,  and  Aaron's 
rod.    These  were  explained  in  the  following  manner: — 

The  candlestick  was  manufactured  by  Bezaleel  and 
Aholiab,  of  beaten  gold.  It  had  an  upright  shaft,  which 
stood  on  a  broad  foundation,  that  its  support  might  be 
firm  and  immoveable,  without  danger  of  being  over- 
thrown during  the  process  of  trimming  and  cleaning  its 
lamps,  which  were  seven  in  number  (although  nine  are 
represented  in  the  figure),  one  in  the  centre,  and  three 
on  each  side,  on  so  many  branches   that  were  not  equal 


30  THE    INSIGNIA    OF 

in  length,  the  outer  branches  being  elongated,  that  the 
lights  might  be  all  of  the  same  height.  The  body  of  the 
shaft  had  four  bowls,  and  as  many  knops  and  flowers, 
from  which  the  branches  sprang;  each  branch  containing 
the  same  number  of  bowls,  knops,  and  flowers.  Some 
think  that  the  seven  branches  symbolized  the  seven 
planets,  the  seven  days  of  the  week,  and  the  seven  ages 
of  man ;  but,  in  truth,  the  Christian  church  is  the  can- 
dlestick, and  the  light  is  Christ.''-'  The  seven  lights  are 
emblems  of  the  gifts  of  the  Spirit ;  the  knops  and  flowers, 
the  graces  and  ornaments  of  a  Christian  life.  As  the 
candlestick  gave  light  to  the  Tabernacle,  so  we  must 
remain  in  darkness  unless  Chris C  shall  enlighten  his 
church.  Simeon,  therefore,  pronounced  it  to  be  "a 
light  to  lighten  the  Gentiles,  and  the  glory^^  of  Is- 
rael."6« 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  sacred  symbol  we  find  the 
table  of  shewbread.  Moses  was  commanded  to  construct 
this  table  of  shittim  wood,  because  it  was  intended  to  be 
durable,  and  to  last  as  long  as  the  Jewish  dispensation 
should  continue.  This  wood  was  the  acacia,  which, 
according  to  Kitto,"  was  exclusively  employed  in  the 
construction  of  the  Tabernacle.  It  is  well  agreed  by 
writers  on  the  natural  history  of  the  Bible,  that  the 
shittim  wood  was  afforded  by  a  species  of  acacia ;  but 
the  particular  species  has  been  less  determinately  men- 
tioned. But  now  that  the  labours  of  the  French  com- 
mission, and  of  different  recent  travellers,  have  made  us 
acquainted  with  the  botany  of  Arabia  Petra3a,  we  have 
little  difficulty  in  concluding  that  the  required  species  is 
found  in  either  the  acacia  giimmifera,  or  in  the  acacia  sepal, 
or  rather  in  both.  They  both  grow  abundantly  in  the 
valleys  of  that  region  where  the  Israelites  wandered  for 
forty  years,  and  both  supply  products  which  must  have 
rendered  them  of  much  value  to  the  Israelites.  The 
crown,  or  rim,  of  this  table  was  particularly  described  in 

-  64  Rev.  i.,  20. 

^  Nimbus,  refening  to  tlie  gloiy  which  played  round  the  head  of 
Moses  when  he  came  down  from  the  mount,  and  thus  preserving  a 
common  phraseology,  characteristic  of  the  rays  of  light  within  the 
interlacing  triangles  of  our  Tracing-board,  and  overshadowing  the 
altar  of  incense. 

86  Luke  ii.,  32.  ^  Palestine,  eoli. 


THE    ROYAL    ARCii.  31 

the  lectures  of  the  day  as  being  common  to  it,  as  well  as 
the  Ark  of  the  covenant,  and  the  altar  of  incense.  It 
consisted  of  an  ornamented  border  of  gold,  as  is  seen  in 
the  lithograph,  which  was  set  round  the  table  to  prevent 
anything  from  falling  from  it,  and  so  becoming  polluted. 
On  this  table  were  placed  the  twelve  loaves  of  un- 
leavened bread,  called  the  presence  bread,  because  it 
was  perpetually  before  the  face  of  Jehovah ;  a  custom 
which  was  imitated  amongst  the  heathen,  who  had  in 
their  temples  a  similar  table,  on  which  meat  and  drink 
were  placed  in  honour  of  the  gods,  as  we  find  in  the  fa- 
miliar instance  of  Bel  and  the  dragon,  recorded  in  the 
Apocrypha  of  our  Bibles.  The  twelve  loaves  of  shew- 
bread  in  the  Tabernacle  were  baked  in  moulds  by  the 
priests ;  and  some  say  they  were  marked  with  the  names 
of  the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel ;  but  there  is  no  authority 
for  this  conjecture  in  the  Sacred  Writings.  They  were 
consecrated  with  incense,  and  being  placed  on  vessels  of 
gold,  were  renewed  every  sabbath-day.  Josephus  affirms, 
that  a  cup  of  incense  was  placed  on  each  stack  of  bread, 
as  is  represented  in  the  figure  before  us. 

The  mystical  and  symbolical  meaning  of  this  utensil 
is  thus  explained :  some  understand  by  it  the  Holy 
Scriptures,  and  interpret  the  four  rings  by  which  it  was 
earned,  when  removed  from  one  place  to  another,  the 
four  evangelists,  by  whom  the  Gospel  of  Christ  is  carried, 
as  it  were,  from  nation  to  nation,  till  it  becomes  uni- 
versal ;  while  others  compare  the  twelve  loaves  to  the 
twelve  months  ;  and  others  think  the  table  a  symbol  of 
the  earth,  and  the  loaves  to  the  fruits  thereof.  But 
these  interpretations  are  too  fanciful.  The  table  was  a 
symbol  of  the  family  of  Christ-Jehovah,  and  the  loaves 
of  the  true  bread  of  life  which  that  great  Being  has  fur- 
nished to  his  faithful  followers.  By  the  incense  upon 
the  bread,  we  are  to  understand  that  the  preaching  of 
the  word  ought  to  be  consecrated  by  prayer  and  thanks- 
giving, that  we  may  be  divinely  incited  to  the  practice 
of  moral  and  social  virtue. 

We  now  come    to  the  consideration  of  the  pot  of 

manna,  and  the  rod  of  Aaron  that  budded.     It  is  well 

known  that  the  manna  was  given  by  Jehovah  as  food 

for  his  people  in  the  barren  desert,  which  was  called  by 

3 


32  THE    INSIGNIA    OK 

David'^^  "  the  bread  of  angels,"  as  some  think,  because 
it  was  a  type  of  Christ,  who  was  the  true  bread  of  life 
both  to  angels  and  to  men.  The  manna  was  a  white, 
transparent  globule,  of  the  size  of  a  coriander  seed,  and 
tasted  like  wafers  made  with  honey,  and  flavoured  with 
olive  oil.****  A  vessel  of  this  pure  substance  was  directed 
to  be  laid  up  before  the  testimony,  as  a  pei-petual 
memento  of  the  miraculous  sustenance  of  so  great  a  body 
of  people  for  forty  years  in  a  sterile  wilderness;  and  it 
will  be  remembered  that,  when  they  came  out  of  Egypt,^ 
they  numbered  three  millions  of  souls.  The  form  of 
this  vessel  has  been  represented  like  an  urn,  with 
a  lid  or  cover;  and  thus  it  is  depicted  on  Samaritan 
medals. 

The  manna  is  denominated  by  St.  PauP"  "spiritual 
meat ;"  whence  Christians  have  considered  it  as  a  type 
of  Christ ;  and  for  these  plain  reasons,  because,  as 
Jehovah,  whom  we  have  already  seen  identified  with  the 
Redeemer  of  mankind,  had  compassion  on  his  chosen 
people  when  they  were  famishing  in  a  region  where  no 
food  was  to  be  had  ;  so  the  same  holy  Being  had  com- 
passion on  mankind,  when  they  were  in  a  state  of 
spiritual  destitution,  and  gave  his  body  and  blood  as  a 
nourishment  for  their  hungry  souls.  In  sending  forth 
the  manna,  Jehovah  displayed  his  tender  love  towards 
his  people — but  much  more  so  when  he  came  in  human 
form  to  seek  and  to  save  those  which  were  lost.  He 
gave  them  the  manna  for  forty  years  to  teach  them 
obedience  under  the  law — and  he  has  given  us  his  Grospel, 
with  a  promise  of  everlasting  life  to  those  who  should 
obey  its  precepts  and  observe  its  laws.  The  coincidences 
between  the  manna  and  Jesus  Christ  are  too  numerous 
to  be  overlooked,  and  too  important  to  be  despised.  He 
himself  drew  the  first  parallel  when  he  said  to  the  Jews 
— "  I  am  the  bread  of  life.  Your  fathers  did  eat  manna 
in  the  wilderness,  and  are  dead.  This  is  the  bread  which 
Cometh  down  from  heaven,  that  a  man  may  eat  thereof 
and  not  die.  I  am  the  living  bread  which  came  down 
from  heaven.     If  anv  man  eat  of  this  bread,  he  shall  live 


•  Psalm  Ixxviii.,  9.  *•  Numb,  xxiii.,  21. 

'•  1  Cor.  X.,  3. 


THE    ROYAL    ARCH.  33 

for  ever ;  and  the  bread  that  I  will  give  is  my  flesh, 
which  I  will  give  for  the  life  of  the  world."^' 

Of  the  properties  and  qualities  of  the  manna,  the 
following  symbolical  coincidences  were  noticed.  The 
manna  was  small,  but  of  great  virtue ;  and  Christ, 
though  appearing  of  low  degree,  possessed  unlimited 
power.  The  manna  was  white,  the  emblem  of  purity ; 
and  Christ  was  accordingly  pure  and  spotless.  To  pre- 
pare the  manna  for  use,  it  had  to  be  beaten  and  bruised 
in  a  mortar — Christ  was,  in  like  manner,  beaten  and 
bruised  for  our  iniquities.  The  manna  came  from  heaven 
— -so  did  Christ.  It  was  sweet  and  pleasant  to  the  palate 
— Christ  is  sweet  and  pleasant  to  vhe  soul.  It  fell  from 
on  high  like  dew,  as  Christ  imparts  his  grace  and  spirit. 
The  manna  was  supplied  till  the  Israelites  entered  the 
promised  land ;  and  Christ  will  supply  his  church  till 
the  heavenly  Canaan  shall  be  opened  to  all  true  believers. 

The  rod  of  Aaron  that  budded,  and  put  forth  blossoms, 
and  yielded  ripe  almonds,  as  a  miraculous  attestation  of 
his  authority,  was  also  ordered  to  be  preserved  as  a  visible 
testimony  of  the  fact ;  and  the  Jews  are  of  opinion  that 
it  retained  its  leaves  and  fruit  to  the  last,  which  is, 
indeed,  extremely  probable,  else  the  evidence  of  the 
miracle  would  be  defective ;  and  hence  it  is  displayed 
in  a  florescent  state  on  our  Tracing-board.  These  two 
symbols  of  memorable  events  in  the  Jewish  history  were 
preserved  in  the  Most  Holy  Place,  beside  the  Ark  of 
the  Covenant,  and  not  m  it,  as  some  have  been  led  to 
imagine  from  the  words  of  St.  Paul,  Heb.  ix.,  4.  They 
were,  however,  within  the  Oracle,  and,  therefore,  have 
been  characteristically  placed,  in  the  drawing  before  us, 
beneath  the  arch  where  the  holy  Shekinah  is  symbolized 
by  the  sun,  that  darts  its  rays  obliquely  through  the 
arch,  because,  according  to  a  masonic  tradition,  "the 

height  of  the  sun  at  Jerusalem  on  the  day was 

58°>  which  formed  an  angle  with  the  horizon,  and  caused 

."     "  Now,"  says  Dr.  Kellet,'^  "  it  is  not  more 

odd  than  true  quod  Sol  in  nube,  Dem  in  Came ;  God  in 
the  flesh  is  like  the  sunne  in  a  cloud.  When  Christ  was 
first  brought  into  the  temple,  the  prophetical  spirit  came 
upon  Simeon ;  and  of  extraordinary  thanksgiving  upon 

'»  John  vi.,  48-51.  «  TricoKi.  Ohri^,  p.  114. 


34  THE     lASlGAlA    OF 

Anna.  Was  the  presence  of  God  in  a  cloud  glorious  in 
the  first  temple?  Much  more  was  the  presence  of 
Jehovah  in  Christ,  of  Christ  in  a  cloud,  superabundantly- 
glorious.  A  cloud  overshadowed  them  ;  and  a  voice  out 
of  the  cloud  said,  this  is  my  beloved  Son.  Againe,  was 
the  presence  of  God  in  Julgore,  in  brightnesse,  such  a 
great  priviledge  of  the  first  temple?  Certainly,  the  pres- 
ence of  Jehovah  in  Christ,  who  was  the  brightnesse  of 
his  glory  and  the  expresse  image  of  his  person,  upholding 
all  things  by  the  Word  of  his  power,  was  much  more 
illustrious  and  glorious;  and  the  presence  of  Christ  in 
the  bright  cloud,  when  his  face  did  shine  as  the  sun, 
and  his  raiment  was  white  as  the  light,  was  much  more 
resplendent." 

The  censer  of  incense  which  occupies  tlie  upper  right 
hand  corner  of  the  lithograph,  surmounted  by  a  rainbow, 
or  halo  of  light,  is  a  representation  of  the  altar  of  incense, 
which  was  made  of  the  acacia  covered  with  beaten  gold. 
In  form  it  was  a  double  cube,  and  had  a  crown  or  rim 
like  the  table  of  shew-bread,  running  round  its  upper 
surface.  It  was  of  small  dimensions,  being  only  1\  feet 
square,  and  three  feet  high,  with  elevations  at  each  cor- 
ner called  horns.  The  figure  in  our  drawing  represents 
merely  the  censer  that  was  placed  upon  the  altar,  in 
which  the  incense  was  actually  burned,  in  allusion  to 
the  words  of  St.  Paul,  Heb.  ix,,  4;  although  we  have  no 
warrant  in  the  Jewish  writings  that  such  a  vessel  was 
used,  for  the  authority  is  exclusively  Christian. 

This  altar  or  censer  was  placed  close  to  the  veil  which 
separated  the  holy  from  the  most  holy  place,  that  the 
incense  might  penetrate  into  the  latter;  and  for  this 
reason,  perhaps,  it  vfas  that  St.  Paul  attributes  it  to  the 
innermost  room.  It  was  an  emblem  or  type  of  Christ, 
through  whom  we  offer  the  incense  of  our  prayers.  The 
acacia  and  gold  of  which  the  altar  was  composed,  referred 
to  his  human  and  divine  nature ;  the  crown  to  his  regal 
dignity;  and  the  horns  to  his  power.  As  no  incense 
could  be  offered  but  upon  this  altar,  so  no  prayers  will 
be  accepted  but  those  that  are  offered  through  Christ. 
The  incense  was  offered  every  morning  and  evening,  and 
our  prayers  ought  to  ascend  to  the  throne  of  grace  at 
the  same  periods.  The  halo  or  rainbow  which  appears 
to  overshadow  the  censer,  refers  to  a  passage  in  the  Book 


THE    ROYAL    AUCH.  35 

of  Revelation,  which  says — "And  another  angel  came 
and  stood  at  the  altar  having  a  golden  censer ;  and  there 
was  given  unto  him  much  incense,  that  he  should  offer 
it  with  the  prayers  of  all  saints  upon  the  golden  altar 
which  was  before  the  throne.  And  the  smoke  of  the  incense 
which  came  with  the  prayers  of  the  saints  ascended  u]j 
before  God  out  of  the  angel's  hand.'"^ 

I  need  not  tell  you,  my  dear  sir,  at  the  conclusion  of 
this  letter,  that  my  advocacy  of  Freemasonry  is  perfectly 
disinterested  and  sincere,  for  an  intimate  connection  of 
more  than  twelve  years'  continuance,  during  which  our 
coiTespondence  on  the  subject  has  been  incessant  and 
uninterrupted,  will  prevent  any  doubt  from  lingering  in 
your  mind  of  my  entire  devotedness  to  the  great  and 
holy  cause.  My  head  has  become  grey  during  the  pro- 
cess ;  but  increasing  years  and  experience  have  served  to 
confirm  the  predilections  of  my  early  life,  and  to  convince 
me  that  Masonry  is  the  handmaiden  of  religion  ;  and  that, 
while  the  preliminary  degrees  contain  a  most  beautiful 
system  of  Christian  morality,  the  Royal  Arch  is  impreg- 
nated with  the  principal  types  and  doctrines  of  our  most 
holy  faith.  This  is  the  firm  and  unshaken  belief  of  the 
sexagenarian  Mason  who  has  great  pleasure  in  subscribing 
himself, 

My  dear  Sir, 

Your  most  obedient  and 

Faithful  friend  and  Brother, 
GEO.  OLIVER,  D.  D 


Scoptoick  Vicarage,  1st  May,  1847. 

"  Rev.  viii.,  3,  4. 


SEAL  OF  THE  ABBEY  OF  ARBEOATH. 


THE 


SECRET    DISCIPLINE, 


MENTIONED    IN 


ANCIENT 


ECCLESIASTICAL  HISTORY, 

EXPLAINED. 


THEODORE     TEMPLE. 


NEW  YORK: 

JNO.  W.  LEONARD  &  CO.,  AMERICAN  MASONIC  AGENCY. 
1855. 


Stereotyped  i 

HOLMirN  4  GRAY,  1 


Printed  and  Bound  by 

BRBNNAN,   LODISYILLB,   KTi 


TO 

MORGAN    LEWIS. 


Permit  me,  Sir,  to  dedicate  this  Treatise  on  The  Secret  Disci- 
pline OF  THE  Church  to  you,  who  have  been  a  sufferer,  and  an 
efficient  soldier,  in  two  wars — a  distinguished  statesman  in  the  halls 
of  legislation — a  presiding  judge  in  the  highest  courts  of  justice  in 
our  State — a  chief  magistrate  prompt  in  supporting  the  majesty  of 
the  laws — a  president  of  that  venerable  band  of  patriots  the  Cincin- 
nati; to  you,  who  have  shared  the  labours,  been  master  of  the 
mysteries,  and  dispensed  the  charities  of  Masonry ;  to  you,  who 
have  breasted  the  storm  of  anti-masonic  excitement,  trusting  to  the 
purity  of  your  principles,  and  to  that  great  Being  who  in  the  end 
sustains  the  righteous,  and  punishes  the  wicked ;  to  you,  whom  the 
younger  men  of  your  country  regard  as  an  example  of  firmness, 
moderation,  and  repubhcan  simphcity,  who,  in  sustaining  all  these 
high  callings,  have  never  stained  one  of  them  with  the  pride  of  place, 
or  insolence  of  office. 

It  is  my  belief.  Sir,  that  as  a  scholar,  you  will  be  gratified  by  a 
perusal  of  this  argument ;  that  as  a  Christian,  you  wiU  be  delighted 
to  find  it  so  clearly  proved  that  the  followers  of  our  Saviour  and  the 
Christian  Fathers,  were  of  our  Order ;  and  that  the  mysteries  were 
known  to  all  those  who  propagated  the  Gospel  in  all  lands,  as  sent 
by  their  divine  Master.  Permit  me  also  to  add  a  prayer,  that  your 
life  may  long  be  preserved,  in  order  that  you  may  rejoice  in  new 
illustrations  and  fresh  arguments  in  support  of  the  great  political, 
moral,  and  religious  creeds,  which  you  have  from  youth  adopted  and 
defended. 

With  respect  and  veneration. 
Yours, 

THE  EDITOR. 


TO    THE    PUBLIC, 


It  is  now  more  than  five  years  since  I  published  a 
small  volume,  called  the  Genius  of  Masonry  :  that 
work  was  written  to  prove,  among  other  things,  that 
Masonry  had  its  origin  in  a  remote  antiquity,  if  some  of 
its  features  bore  a  modern  impress.  In  that  work,  I 
carefully  avoided  every  thing  of  a  personal  nature,  for 
fear  of  offending  some  conscientious  anti-masons,  for 
some  such  I  believed  did  exist.  For  political  anti- 
masonry  I  had  no  tenderness;  I  thought  then,  and  be- 
lieve now,  that  many  seized  this  excitement  to  bring 
themselves  into  notice ;  and  it  would  be  vain,  indeed,  to 
attempt  to  convince  those  who  were  never  deceived : 
the  excitement  was  well  enough  for  their  purpose.  To 
any  attacks  upon  my  work  I  never  made  any  reply,  for 
I  believed  that  the  periodicals  established  to  put  down 
Masonry,  if  not  opposed,  would  soon  fall  to  the  ground, 
and  the  event  has  proved  the  truth  of  these  predictions. 
The  language  they  held  was  too  intemperate  to  be  the 
language  of  the  wise  and  just,  and  they  resorted  to 
assumption,  fiction,  and  falsehood,  to  support  their 
opinions.  Some  of  their  periodicals  lingered  for  a  season, 
and  then  expired  without  making  any  void  in  society, 
and  others  went  out  as  a  flash.  A  few  of  them  are  now 
in  being,  but  hold  no  rank  as  periodicals  ;  no  one  envies 
their  editors  all  the  glory  they  may  acquire,  nor  the 
proprietors  the  amount  of  their  profits.  The  excitement 
would  have  long  since  passed  away,  if  some  few  men  of 
high  standing,  and  of  extensive  acquirements,  had  not 


come  to  the  aid  of  anti-masonry.  It  is  difficult  to 
account  for  the  part  they  have  taken ;  but,  as  they  have 
a  right  to  do  as  they  please,  we  w^ill  leave  them  to  take 
a  deeper  view  of  the  subject  than  they  have  done,  and 
there  can  be  no  doubt  of  their  returning  to  reason  after 
wandering  awhile  in  their  errors. 

From  a  state  of  quietude,  I  cannot  say  neutrality,  I 
probably  should  never  have  been  roused,  having  dis- 
missed the  subject  from  my  mind,  had  not  a  friend  put 
into  my  hands,  a  few  weeks  ago,  a  treatise  upon  The 
Secret  Discijjline  of  the  Church.  I  read  the  manuscript 
with  surprise  and  delight;  it  confirmed  my  previous 
impressions  of  the  antiquity  of  the  Order,  and  opened  a 
new  view  of  the  science,  as  connected  directly  with  the 
Christian  religion.  Others,  more  capable  than  myself, 
and  who  could  spare  more  time  in  the  investigation  of 
the  subject  than  I  could,  declared  that  the  arguments  in 
this  treatise  were  learned,  fliir,  and  satisfactory.  I  there- 
fore lost  no  time  in  giving  it  to  the  public.  The  writer 
is  alone  known  to  me,  but  I  need  only  to  ask  the  reader 
to  examine  the  following  pages  to  secure  his  approbation 
of  the  work,  and  to  believe  me  when  I  assert  that  he  is 
a  scholar  and  a  Christian,  and  that  he  has  done  much  for 
religion  and  letters.  It  may  be  asked,  why  does  he  not 
come  out  with  his  name  to  the  work  ?  The  answer  is, 
that  he  is  on  the  confines  of  another  world,  and  does  not 
wish  to  be  disturbed  by  controversy,  but  at  the  same 
time  thinks  it  his  duty  to  present  these  views  of  the 
subject  of  Masonry  to  the  thinking  part  of  the  commu- 
nity, and  particularly  to  those  who  have  entertained 
serious  doubts  of  its  antiquity. 

In  this  work,  the  Secret  Discipline  of  the  Church  is 
proved  from  the  same  authority  by  which  the  Gospels 
are  established,  and,  for  aught  we  see,  as  clearly;  and 
this  Secret  Discipline  was  and  is  Masonry. 

From  the  fanatic  who  believes  that  all  Masons  are 


answerable  for  the  deeds  of  every  individual  of  the  Order, 
there  can  be  nothing  said  that  can  do  him  any  good ;  his 
mind  is  full  of  prejudice,  his  heart  of  persecution;  let 
him  go  on,  he  v^ill  soon  become  quiet  by  the  force  of 
reason,  M^hich  is  always  acthig  upon  the  public  min 
even  while  the  excitement  is  raging,  as  the  vital  princi 
pies  of  a  good  constitution  are  struggling  in  the  parox- 
ysms of  a  fever  to  recover  their  natural  influence  and 
power.  Time  alone  can  cure  the  errors  of  the  mind,  as 
well  as  the  evils  of  the  body. 

The  political  anti-mason  will  come  right,  when  the 
cry  against  Masonry  will  do  him  no  good  at  the  polls. 

To  those  who  have  doubts,  I  ask  them  to  read  this 
small  volume,  and  form  their  own  opinions  upon  these 
questions:  Is  the  Order  a  new  one?  If  not,  what  did 
the  early  Christians  think  of  it  ?  These  being  answered, 
I  shall  leave  the  subject,  not  fearing  for  the  Craft. 

Most  respectfully  and  sincerely. 

Your  obedient  servant, 

SAMUEL  L.  KNAPP. 


XI 


PREFACE. 


When  perusing  ancient  Ecclesiastical  History,  such 
references  to  the  Secret  Society,  which  was  formed 
among  the  early  Christians,  as  were  elucidatory  of  what 
had  been  transmitted  by  tradition  respecting  the  Masonic 
Fraternity,  were  noted.  I  then  selected  one  or  two 
passages  from  each  of  the  Christian  Fathers,  most  dis- 
tinguished for  labours  in  building  up  churches  ;  and 
found  that  the  proof  of  the  oral  history,  which  at  first 
glimmered  faintly  as  it  lay  dispersed,  grew  brighter  as 
the  sparks  were  brought  nearer  together.  I  traced  the 
lines  of  inference,  and  perceived  that  they  met  at  last  in 
one  central  truth;  and  hope  that,  by  their  reflection 
from  these  pages,  new  light  will  be  shed  to  increase  the 
splendours  of  an  association,  which,  like  the  sun,  its 
emblem,  may  be  eclipsed  by  some  dark  body  interposing, 
but  cannot  be  extinguished. 

In  laying  these  pages  before  the  public,  I  make  it 
known,  that  to  newspaper  criticisms  and  cavils  I  shall 
not  condescend  to  reply.  The  comments  of  anonymous 
sciolists  I  shall  wholly  disregard.  Even  against  such 
antagonists  as  prefix  their  name  to  the  attack,  as  a 
tavern-keeper  does  his  to  the  sign  of  a  bear  or  a  lion 
"before  his  door,  I  shall  take  no  pains  to  defend  myself. 
I  MUST  BE  JUDGED  BY  MY  PEERS.  Whenever  a  man 
as  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  w^ritings  of  the  Chris- 
tian Fathers,  will,  from  the  source  of  information  which 
they  supply,  or  from  others  more  sacred,  pure,  and 
authentic,  bring  statements,  declarations,  and  testimony, 
wholly  different  from  what  I  have  drawn,  I  shall  cer- 
tainly pay  him  that  respect  and  deference  to  which  he 


will  be  entitled;  and  then,  too,  those  who,  by  being 
more  learned  than  either  of  us,  are  alone  cajjaUe  of  de- 
ciding, can  inform  the  public  how  the  judgment  is  to  be 

endered. 
In  the  mean  time,  let  it  be  clearly  understood,  that 

eference  is  here  principally  had  to  ancient  free  and 
ACCEPTED  Masonry,  as  taught  in  the  three  degrees  of 
Entered  Appreyitice,  Fellow  Craft,  and  Master  Mason. 


SECRET  DISCIPLINE, 


MENTIONED    IN 


ANCIENT    ECCLESIASTICAL    HISTORY, 

EXPLAINED. 


There  is  no  one,  at  all  acquainted  with  Freemasonry, 
but  must  have  been  struck  with  the  constant  reference 
which  it  has  to  the  Temple  built  by  Solomon,  accompa- 
nied with  allusions  to  the  Gospel  History ;  though  the 
application  of  this  reference,  and  the  pertinency  of  these 
allusions  by  those  who,  to  show  the  antiquity  or  the 
sacredness  of  the  Institution,  have  written  or  declaimed 
on  the  subject,  has  often  served  to  increase,  rather  than 
to  remove,  the  incredulity  of  the  uninitiated. 

To  explain  what  has  been  very  imperfectly  understood 
in  this  respect,  and  reconcile  what  has  seemed  to  be 
contradictory  and  inconsistent,  is  the  design  of  this  dis- 
sertation. 

A  difficulty,  however,  is  met  at  the  outset,  occasioned 
by  the  want  of  mitten  records  relative  to  the  origin  and 
primitive  history  of  Freemasonry;  the  particulars  of 
which,  having  been  transmitted  only  by  tradition,  have 
sometimes  been  incorrectly  recapitulated,  and,  at  length, 
are  become  exceedingly  obscure ;  so  that  the  authorities 
which  I  am  about  to  cite  in  corroboration  of  my  state- 
ments, must  be  collected  from  incidental  intimations 
given  in  the  writings  of  the  fathers,  principally  within 
five  centuries  from  the  introduction  of  Christianity. 
These,  however,  when  collected  and  summed  up,  will 
be  found  to  furnish  evidence  that  this  secret  society  is 
filiated  to  Christianity;  and,  of  course,  that  its  profes- 
sions are  not  without  foundation. 

In  the  parting  advice  which  our  blessed  Lord  gave  to 


his  disciples,  was  this  direction,  "  Take  heed  to  your- 
selves, for  they  shall  deliver  you  up  to  councils,  and  in 
the  synagogues  ye  shall  be  beaten,  and  ye  shall  be 
brought  before  rulers  and  kings  for  a  testimony  against 
them."^  Soon  afterwards,  they  realized  the  troubles  of 
which  he  forewarned  them;  and  "  being  persecuted  unto 
strange  cities,"^  were  obliged  to  use  great  caution,  and 
adopt  discreet  measures,  of  personal  safety,  by  appointing 
the  meetings  of  the  faithful  to  be  holden  in  private  places, 
and  under  the  concealment  of  darkness.^ 

Commissioned  to  "  go  into  all  the  world,  and  preach 
the  gospel  to  every  creature,"''  they  went  forth,  and 
preached  in  the  name  of  Christ  among  all  nations,  be- 
ginning at  Jerusalem.^ 

Their  first  object  was  to  make  converts;  their  next  to 
gather  churches  or  societies  of  believers;  and  their  third, 
to  provide  places  for  their  assembling.  As  early  as  the 
second  century,  those  who  were  employed  in  the  last 
service,  were  formed  into  a  distinct  association;  and,  as 
they  were  to  travel  into  distant  regions,  found  it  expe- 
dient to  adopt  certain  means  of  recognition,  should  they 
meet  with  those  who  were  engaged  in  the  same  cause, 
but  with  whom  they  had  not  been  personally  acquainted, 
"  that  they  might  strengthen  each  other's  hands  in  the 
work  of  the  house  of  God."^ 

Moreover,  as  their  undertaldng  excited  popular  oppo- 

'  Mark  xiii.,  9.  "  Acts  xxvi.,  11. 

3  EusEBius,  Hist.  Eccles.,  lib.  II.,  c.  23.  Just.  Martyr,  Dial.  Try- 
phone,  p.  51.  seq.  109.  138.  318.     Origen,  Contra  Celsum,  lib.  I.,  p.  5. 

"  They  were  forced  to  hold  their  assemblies  in  the  night,  to  avoid 
their  persecutors ;  which  Celsus  himself  owns,  though  otherwise 
prone  enough  to  load  them  with  hard  names  and  odious  reflections," 
— Bingham,  History  of  the  Christian  Church,  book  I.,  chap.  II.,  sec.  11. 
Conf.  Plin.,  1.  X.,  epist.  97. 

*  Mark  xvi.,  15.  ^  Luke  xxiv.,  47. 

s  "  Sic  omnes  probant  unitatem,  dum  est  illis  communicatio  pacis,  et 
appellatio  fraternitatis.  et  contesseratio  hospitalitatis ;  quae  jura  non  alia 
ratio  regit  quam  ejusdem  sacramenti  una  traditio." — Tertullian,  De 
PrcBscrip.,  cap.  20.  See  also  Ambrose,  lib.  II.,  ojffic.,  cap.  21,  et  lib.  iii,, 
cap.  8.  Chrysostom,  Condone  de  Lazaro.  Augustine's  Serm.,  70. 
See  also  Appendix,  Note  A. 

"  Si  peregrinus  accesserit,  signum  est  apud  ipsos,  in  extendo  manum, 
ad  salutationem  videlicet,  subter  palmam  contractionem  quandam 
titilationis  per  hoc  se ;  indicare  ostendentes,  quod  ejusdem  religionis 
sit  qui  accessit.  Hinc  igitur  mutua  cognitione  accepta,  statim  ad  epu- 
lationem  convertuntur." 


3 

sition,  they  deemed  it  prudent  to  hold  their  meetings  for 
devising  measures  of  co-operation  in  places  where  they 
should  neither  be  interrupted  nor  overheard.'  And  be- 
cause false  brethren  might  unawares  be  introduced, 
coming  in  privily  to  spy  out  their  liberty,  that  they 
might  bring  them  into  bondage  by  an  arrest  from  the 
magistrate,^  the  faithful  guarded  against  their  intrusion, 
having  determined  not  to  give  them  place  by  condescen- 
sion during  the  hour  devoted  to  consultation.  Lest, 
after  all  their  precaution,  covins  and  eaves-droppera 
might  be  near,^  still  more  effectually  to  cover  the  design 
of  their  fellowship  from  those  who  might  divulge  ita 
object  to  their  enemies,  or  indiscreetly  talk,  about  it  to 
such  as  were  not  yet  entirely  attached  to  the  cause,  they 
avoided  direct  reference  to  their  undertaking,  and  con- 
versed together  figuratively,  and  by  the  use  of  symbols. 
Thus,  as  their  object  was  to  build  in  every  land  a  house 
FOR  RELIGIOUS  WORSHIP,  in  rcspect  to  its  spiritual  edifi- 
cation "  upon  the  foundation  of  the  apostles  and  pro- 
phets, Jesus  Christ  being  the  chief  corner  stone,"  and, 
as  to  its  material  fabric  and  use,  an  edifice  or  temple,  for 
the  assemblies  of  the  saints,  they  adopted  allusions  to  the 
building  of  the  Temple  of  Solomon.  The  blessed  Jesus, 
who,  after  the  death  of  Joseph,  had  passed  under  the 
designation  of  "  the  widoto's  son,''''  they  personified  by 
Hiram  Abiff  ;^"  from  the  traditionary  account  of  whose 
fate,  they  borrowed  allusions  to  that  of  their  master.^^ 
Thus,  the  outrage  of  the  fellow-craftsmen  to  obtain  ad- 
vancement to  which  they  were  not  entitled,  they  sym- 
bolized with  the  treacherous  Judas;  and  they  received 
from  those  to  whom  they  imparted  a  knowledge  of  these 
typical  references,  and  of  the  purpose  for  w^hich  they 
were  adopted,  and  the  objects  to  which  they  applied,  a 
solemn  declaration,  that,  rather  than  betray  their  Lord,  or 
abandon  his  cause,  they  would  suffer  a  similar  fate  to  that  of 
the  traitor, — who  "  falling  head-long,  after  his  strangula- 

^  Justin  Martyr.  ApoL,  1.  c.  85.  seq.  Tertullian,  Apol.,  c.  39 ; 
de  Corona  Milit.,  c.  3. 

8  Galat.  ii.,  4. 

9  Covin — one  who  enters  into  covin  ;  a  deceitful  agreement  between 
two  or  more  persons  to  the  prejudice  of  others.  Eaves-droppers, 
those  who  privily  listen  at  the  eaves,  or  doors  of  a  house. 

w  1  Kings  vii.,  13,  14.  "  See  Appendix,  Note  B. 


tion,  burst  asunder  in  the  midst,  and  all  his  bowels 
gushed  out."     [Acts  i.,  IS.p^ 

The  ineffable  and  mysterious  name,^^  which  the  high 
priest  could  utter  only  in  a  whisper,  as  his  password 
through  the  veil  into  the  sanctum  sanctorum,'^^  and  which 
the  Jews  never  dared  to  pronounce,  but  substituted  for  it 
■31X  Adonai,  w^as  said  to  be  lost  at  the  death  of  our 
Saviour,  when  "the  veil  of  the  temple  was  rent  in 
twain;"  but  recovered  in  the  exclamation  of  Thomas  on 
beholding  the  raised  body  of  his  master,  and  thencefor- 
ward adopted  as  the  hailing  word  of  the  Fraternity. 

The  apostacy  of  Judas  is  quoted  in  the  ritual  of  Free- 
masonry, where,  to  the  question,  "Why  should  eleven 
make  a  lodge  ?"  it  is  answered,  "  Because  there  were 
but  eleven  apostles  when  Judas  betrayed  Christ." 

By  a  singular  lapsus  linguce,  the  moderns  have  sub- 
stituted Tubal  Cain  in  the  third  degree  for  TTMBOXEIN, 
to  he  entombed.  This,  in  the  ancient  Catechesis  Arcani,  was 
the  pass-word,  from  the  symbolical  representation  of  the 
state  of  death,  to  the  restored  and  undying  existence. 
Happy  those,  w^ho,  having  gone  through  its  preparatory 
form,  are  able  to  say,  "We  know  that  we  have  passed 
from  death  to  life,  because  we  love  the  brethren. "^^  Still 
happier  those,  who,  "planted  together  in  the  likeness 
of  the  death  of  Christ,  shall  be  raised  also  in  the  like- 
ness of  his  resurrection."^^ 

As  those  who  went  forth  "  to  teach  and  to  preach," 
divided  their  converts  into  three  classes,  the  Catechu- 
mens, CoMPETENTS,  and  Believers,^''  so  they  whose 
destination    was    "  to    build    churches,"    formed    three 

12  See  Appendix,  Note  C. 

**  " the  incommunicable  name." — Wisdom  xiv.,  21. 

*  The  priests  within  bid  him  "  enter  in  the  name  of  the  Lord." 
From  the  Talmud  it  appears  that  the  Jews  were  taught  that  Moses, 
by  virtue  of  the  word  riini  Jehovah,  engraved  on  his  rod,  performed 
all  the  prodigies  related  of  him ;  and  the  modern  Jews  say  that  Jesus 
CHRiSTt)y  the  same  virtue  wrought  all  his  miracles;  having,  while  in 
the  Temple,  acquired  a  knowledge  of  the  ineffable  name ;  and  they 
flatter  themselves  that  the  Messiah  will  teach  them  this  mighty  secret. 
[See  Oalmet's  Dictionary,  under  the  name  Jehovah.]  The  tetra- 
grammaton  is  called  by  Josephus,  za  cs^a  y^a/ufiara.  ro  ^^ihtov  ovofia 
@E8 :  and  Caligula,  in  Philo,  swears  to  him  by  the  God  who  was  to 
them  ay.aravo/uaaTO. 

1*  1  John  iii.,  14.  ^^  Rom.  vi.,  5. 

"  See  Appendix,  Note  D. 


grades,  or  degrees, — Kad-a^oi,  PURI,  those  who  entered 
by  divesting  themselves  of  all  impurities,  and  every- 
thing offensive ;  Mmiuevoi,  INITIATI,  initiated ;  and 
TeUiot  and  TexEXeicofievoi  (past-masters)  Perfecti,  those 
who  were  raised  to  the  sublime  degree.^^  These  terms, 
or  appellations,  became  a  little  varied,  as  the  members 
of  the  Order,  in  process  of  time,  assumed  the  distinctive 
character  of  actual  tmrl{men. 

The  place  which  they  procured  and  fitted  up  for 
assembling  was,  at  first,  an  lipper  chamber,  Ttce^coov}^  Of 
this  many  eminent  writers  have  largely  treated,  and, 
particularly,  a  good  account  is  given  in  a  dissertation  of 
the  learned  Dr.  Lee,  published  in  his  Posthumous  Works, 
vol.  i.  p.  261.  Whether  the  word  "Lodge"  originated 
in  the  circumstance  that  the  meetings  were  held  in  a 
lodging  chamber,  I  pretend  not  to  say  ;  but  the  fact  that 
meetings  of  the  Masonic  Fraternity  have  ever  been  held 
in  such  places,  is  of  some  consequence,  as  collateral  con- 
firmation of  the  statements  which  I  have  been  making. 

The  being  watched  with  jealousy,  rendered  such  re- 
tired apartments  peculiarly  necessary  to  the  early  Chris- 
tians. "  Persecution  was  always  attended  with  poverty, 
paucity  of  believers,  and  unsettled  hopes ;  so  that  either 
they  needed  not  stately  and  sumptuous  buildings,  or 
they  were  not  able  to  erect  them  ;  or  at  least  they  had 
no  invitation  and  encouragement  to  do  it,  whilst  they 
were  daily  under  apprehensions  of  seeing  them  plundered 
or  demolished  almost  as  soon  as  they  had  erected  them."2o 
They  were  even  subject  to  the  necessity  of  having  their 
meetings  under  arches,  and  the  Royal  Arch  of  Titus  at 
Rome,  decorated  with  representations  of  the  spoils  of 
the  temple  at  Jerusalem,  was  a  selected  place.  They 
congregated,  also,  in  subterranean  vaults,  and  even  in 
tombs ;  as  is  evident  both  from  the  Canons  of  the  Coun- 
cil of  Eliberis,  which  was  held  in  the  heat  of  the  Diocle- 
sian  persecution,  and  often  mentions  their  assembling  in 
such  places  f^  as  also  from  the  Edicts  of  the  persecuting 

^*  See  Appendix,  Note  E. 

1^  "  Conclave  majoribus  Christianorum  eouventibus  sacris  destina- 
tum." — SCHLEUSNER,  in  verbum  TTtsQoiov. 

'^  Bingham,  Antiq.  of  the  Christian  CJiurch,  book  vii.  chap.  ii. 
sec.  2. 

*^  Concil.  Eliber.  c,  34.  item  Canon.  35.     "  Placuit  prohiberi  ne  in 
coemitario  pervigilent." 
2 


Emperors,  forbidding  Christians  to  hold  assemblies  in 
the  cemeteries.^^ 

During  the  reign  of  those  Emperors  who  distinguished 
themselves  by  their  moderation,  the  Christians  ventured, 
to  quit  their  vaults  and  catacombs,  and  erected  some 
buildings  vt^iich  were  set  apart  for  the  public  worship 
of  God;  but  as  they  were  in  perpetual  fear  of  persecu- 
tion, even  when  they  did  not  suffer  it,  as  the  Emperors 
were  idolaters,  they  did  not  dare  to  give  their  churches 
an  air  of  grandeur,  lest  the  jealousies  of  the  infidels 
should  raise  a  new  storm  against  them. 

"  In  more  peaceable  times,"  Eusebius  remarks,  lib. 
viii.  c.  1.  "the  number  of  Christians  so  grew  and  multi- 
plied in  fifty  years,  that  their  ancient  churches  were  not 
large  enough  to  receive  them,  and  therefore  they  erected 
from  the  foundations  more  ample  and  spacious  ones  in 
every  city." 

More  certain  and  explicit  accounts  of  such  edifices 
occur  during  the  third  century.  In  the  beginning  of  it, 
Tertullian  gives  a  description  of  them  as  standing  on 
high  and  conspicuous  places,  towards  the  east;  and 
signifies  that  there  was  a  distinction  of  places  suited  to 
the  different  orders  and  classes  of  those  who  assembled 
in  them. 

About  the  middle  of  the  third  century  persecution 
against  Christianity  ceased;  and  no  fears  or  menaces  of 
any  kind  deterred  men  from  embracing  it.  Some  distin- 
guished officers  of  the  Emperor's  household  at  Rome 
openly  professed  it ;  and  the  number  of  churches  there 
was  computed  to  amount  to  forty .^^  In  the  provinces, 
the  lieutenants  and  subordinate  governors  could  not  but 
be  actuated  by  a  similar  spirit  of  toleration  and  indul- 


22  Onupheius  de  Ccemiiarles,  cap.  xi.  Comp.  Ponth.  pass.  Cype. 
"  Jussum  est  ut  multa  conciliabula  faciant,  neque  Coemiteria  ingi-gfli- 
antur." 

KORTHOLT  de  persecutionihus  Ecclesi^  primse.  4to.  Kiloui,  1688. 
The  Judge  Proconsul  declared  to  Cyprian  that  the  Christians  must 
not  hold  their  mysteries  in  the  cemeteries,  (in  Actis,  p.  11,)  and  the 
Prefect  of  Egypt  to  Dionysius  of  Alexandria,  (apud  Eusebium,  1.  ix. 
c.  2.)  Tertullian  (ad  Scapul.  c.  3.)  See  also  several  inscriptions 
importing  this  in  Boldetti,  1.  i.  c.  11 ;  Mamachi,  torn.  iii.  p.  162: 
and  chiefly  Bottarius,  Rom.  Sotter.  torn.  i.  p.  12.  See  also,  But  • 
LER's  Lives  of  the  Saints,  vol.  v.  p.  148,  note. 

^  Opt.  de  Schis.  Don.  1.  2.     Greg.  Nys.  opera,  torn.  iii.  p.  567. 


gence ;  and  hence  either  many  new  sacred  fabrics  were 
erected,  or  the  old  ones  enlarged. 

In  the  time  of  the  Emperor  Constantine,  orders  were 
given  for  forwarding  and  completing  these  works ;  so 
that,  according  to  Eusebius,  numerous  churches  were 
built  in  various  regions,  and  some  of  a  magnificent  kind. 
Such  were  the  stately  structures  erected  by  the  Emperor 
at  Jerusalem,  Antioch,  Tyre,  as  well  as  his  own  imperial 
city,  Constantinople  ;  for,  having  transferred  thither  the 
seat  of  empire,  he  judged  it  incumbent  on  him  to  give  an 
unequalled  splendour  to  it ;  at  the  same  time,  bestowing 
all  suitable  elegance  on  those  others  of  inferior  class 
which  he  raised  elsewhere.^'* 

Those  who  may  be  disposed  to  investigate  the  subject 
of  ecclesiastical  architecture,  and  the  erection  of  churches 
in  those  early  times,  and  the  companies  or  associations 
engaged  in  their  erection,  I  refer  to  the  treatise  of  Paulus 
SiLENTiARius,  and  his  learned  commentator  Du  Fresne, 
which  may  be  found  at  the  end  of  Joh.  Cinnamus,  among 
the  Byzantine  Historians,  published  at  Paris,  1670;  also 
to  EvAGRius,  lib.  iv.  c.  31 ;  Procopius,  de  cedJf.  Justin. 
lib.  i.  c.  1.  and  Agathias,  lib.  v. 

I  have  said  that  the  association  formed  for  the  purpose 
of  erecting  churches,  Vk^as  obliged,  at  first,  to  use  a  greater 
caution,  and  adopt  measures  of  co-operation  under  *a 
greater  guard  of  sec'recy,  than  was  necessary  for  others 
of  the  Christian  community,  because  to  carry  those 
measures  into  eifect,  was  at  once  to  combat  the  prevail- 
ing religious  institutions  of  the  Gentiles ;  and  whatever 
was  to  be  done,  must  be  so  concerted  as  not  unnecessarily 
to  excite  popular  prejudice  and  opposition,  or  bring  into 
exercise  the  authority  of  the  civil  magistrate.  Why  this 
association  should  retain  its  secret  meetings,  its  myste- 
ries, and  its  symbols,  after  those  prejudices  had  subsided 
and  that  opposition  had  ceased,  is  not  very  apparent.  I 
have  charity  to  believe  that  to  the  members  of  the  Frater- 
nity there  appeared  tlien  sufficient  reason  for  preserving 
the  Order  under  all  its  ancient  rites ;  and  if  I  had  not 
this  charity  for  them,  and  for  their  successors  noiv,  though 
I  understood  all  the  mysteries  they  possessed,  and  all  the 

2*  Wilson.  The  Ornaments  of  Churches  considered.  4to.  Oxford. 
1761,  p.  77. 


knowledge  of  cii'cumstaiices  in  which  they  were  placed, 
my  investigations,  and  the  spirit  in  which  I  pursue  them, 
would  be  in  vain.  I  quit,  therefore,  this  digression,  and 
return  to  my  principal  aim,  which  was  to  show  that 
i/iere  actually  existed  a  class,  or  order  of  men.,  among  the  early 
Christians,  who  ivere  initiated  into  its  certain  mysteries, 
ivhich  they  were  hoimd  by  a  solemn  promise  not  to  disclose,  nor 
even  to  converse  about,  but  with  such  as  laid  received  them  under 
the  same  sanctions.  And  I  trust  that  it  will  be  apparent, 
that  these  associates,  though  bearing,  in  progressive 
times,  difterent  names,  such  as  AJEA0OI  KAI  iTNEProi, 
Brethren  and  companions  in  labour  ;  OIKONOMOI MTITHPION, 
Steivardsofthe  Mysteries;  UAPAMONAPIOI,  Superintendents;^^ 
MT90AATPIOI,  Devotees  of  the  Secret ;  or  APXITEKTimoi, 
Architects:  there  may  be  traced  the  Latomi  LiberIj^*^ 
MuRATORi  Ltberi,  and  Free  Masons,  of  after  times. 

Whoever  is  conversant  with  the  works  of  the  fathers, 
must  have  seen  repeated  references  to  the  Discipline  of 
THE  Secret,^  and  perceived  a  difficulty  in  accounting 
for  such  a  discrimination  among  professed  Christians  as 
it  occasioned.  Of  the  nature  of  the  mijsteries  belonging 
to  it,  and  of  the  causes  which  gave  rise  to  an  institution 
so  exclusive  as  that  in  which  they  were  guarded,  there 
have  been  various  conjectures,  opinions,  and  dis^Dutes, 
among  writers  upon  Ecclesiastical  Antiquities.^^  "But 
these  contentions,"  (says  Vidal,  in  his  notes  on  Mo- 
SHEiM,)^^  "  instead  of  elucidating,  have  rather  tended  to 


*5  Bishop  Beveridge  explains  this  of  the  Mansonarii,  or  adminis- 
trators of  the  affairs  of  the  Society.  Not.  in  Concil.  Chalced.  c.  2. 
and  JUSTELLUS,  of  the  Steward.  Bihlioth.  Jur.  Canon,  t.  i.  p.  91 ; 
and  see  Gothofred,  Cujacius,  Suicerus,  and  Vossius. 

^^  'Latornus."  Conf.  Eph.  Constitut.  Eccles.  Valent.  torn,  iv 
Concvl.  HiSP.  p.  186. 

2'  "DisciPLiNA  Arcani, — hoc  est  occultatio  sententiarum  et 
rituum  quorundem." — Co?if.  Clem.  Alexandr.  Stromata.  1.  i.  p. 
275 ;  et  Origen,  L  i.  c.  27.  1.  iii.  p.  143. 

2^  Many  learned  observations  on  the  Secret  Discipline  have  been 
collected  by  the  celebrated  Christoph.  Matt.  Plaffius,  in  his 
Dissert,  poster.  Theolog.  §  13.  p.  149;  et  seq.  in  primitiis  Tubigen- 
sibus.  See  also  Eman.  Schelstrate,  in  Antiq.  Eccles.  illustr.  et 
Diss.  Apologet.  4to.  Eom.  16S5.  Contra  Wilh.  Ern.  Tenzelii, 
Diss,  de  Disciplina  Arcana  in  Exercit.  selectes,  p.  1.  uhi  et  Animad- 
vers.  Ejus  in  Schelstr.  Diss. — Albertihus,  lib.  ii.  disp.  de 
reticentia  mysteriorum. 

**  History  of  the  Three  First  Centuries,  vol.  ii.  p.  161. 


9 

throw  additional  obscurity  over  a  thing  of  itself  suffi- 
ciently intricate,  and  that  seems  as  it  were  to  have  set 
illustration  at  defiance."  The  Roman  Catholics  have 
explained  it  as  referring  to  the  myst-ery  of  the  mass;  and 
other  theologians,  still  more  ignorant  of  its  true  import, 
and  not  troubling  themselves  to  trace  it  out,  have  pretty 
generally  conceded  to  them  this  application.  "  But," 
(says  Bingham,)^"  "  when  this  discipline  was  introduced 
into  the  Christian  church,  it  was  done  for  different  rea- 
sons than  those  which  the  Romanists  pretend."  Surely 
it  could  not  relate  to  the  admission  of  participants  of  the 
eucharist,  as  some  have  declared,  "  understanding  neither 
what  they  say,  nor  whereof  they  affirm ;"  for  that  ordi- 
nance, from  the  first,  had  been  partaken  by  all  believers, 
— men,  women,  and  even  children.  None  were  excluded 
who  professed  a  faith  in  Christ,  and  assembled  with 
those  who  were  distinguished  as  his  followers.  Whereas, 
to  the  mysteries  of  which  I  am  treating,  women  and  chil- 
dren were  not  admitted  at  all. 

Some  modern  writers,  unwilling  to  yield  the  point  to 
the  Catholics,  have  suggested  that  it  was  a  part  of  the 
ancient  discipline,  or  method  of  training  up  those  who 
were  to  exercise  the  higher  functions  of  Christian  con- 
fessors. But  ought  we  to  suppose  that  the  teachers  of 
the  religion  of  that  Divine  Instructor,  who  declared,  "I 
spake  openly  to  the  world,  and  in  secret  I  have  said 
nothing,"  should  have  private  communications  relative 
to  doctrine  or  precept,  to  be  imparted  only  under  solemn 
sanctions,  in  the  most  cautious  manner,  to  a  select  few-— 
when  the  directions  given  to  them  were  to  "go  into  all 
the  world,  and  preach  the  gospel  to  every  creature?" 
This  Discipline  of  the  Secret,  therefore,  could  have 
no  relation  to  the  p-esaibed  and  usual  method  of  teaching, 
which  was  general,  undisguised,  and  explicit;  and  ad- 
dressed to  "  every  one  who  had  ears  to  hear." 

Some  remarks  of  Archbishop  Whately  on  this  subject, 
fire  so  striking,  that  I  must  adorn  my  page  by  their 
insertion.^i  Having  spoken  of  the  passages  in  the 
Epistles  of  Saint  Paul,  which  characterize  the  Christian 


2°  Antiquities  of  the  Church,  book  s.  ch.  v.  sec.  3. 
2^   The  Errors  of  Romanism  traced  to  their  origin  in  human  nature. 
Lend.  18.30,  p.  79. 


10 

religion  as  containing  mysteries,  be  says,  "this  the 
Apostle  does  in  manifest  allusion  to  the  mysteries  of  the 
ancient  Pagan  religions,  with  which,  in  this  respect,  he 
contrasts  Christianity;  inasmuch  as  in  this  last,  there  was 
not,  as  among  the  Pagans,  a  distinction  between  the 
initiated  and  uninitiated — a  revelation  to  some  of  the 
worshippers  of  certain  holy  secrets,  from  which  the  rest 
were  excluded  ;  nor  great  mijsteries  and  lesser  mysteries,  (as 
the  Eleusinian,)  in  which  ditierent  persons  were  initiated  ; 
.but,  on  the  contrary,  the  great  mysteries  oi"  the  Christian 
faith  (^ueya  fivarrj^iov)  wcrc  made  known,  as  far  as  it  is  ex- 
pedient and  possible  for  man  to  know  them,  to  all  alike, 
whether  Jev/  or  Gentile,  who  were  but  willing  to  em- 
brace the  truth  :  and  '  to  know  the  fellowship  '  (i.  e.,  the 
common  participation)  'of  the  mystery,'  was  offered  to 
all.  There  was  not  one  system  of  religion  for  a  certain 
tiivoured  few,  and  another  for  the  mass  of  believers;  but 
'  the  great  mystery  of  godliness '  was  made  accessible, 
gradually  indeed  in  proportion  as  they  were  able  to  bear 
it,  but  universally.  To  all  Christ's  disciples  it  was 
'given  to  know  the  mysteries  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven;' 
there  was  one  Lord,  one  faith,  one  baptism  ;  and,  though 
with  diversity  of  gifts,  one  and  the  same  spirit  sanctify- 
ing the  church,  and  dwelling  in  all  its  members." 

We  must,  therefore,  explicitly  state,  that  the  Disci- 
pline OF  THE  Secret  had  no  discriminating  reference  to 
Christian  doctrines  or  precepts,  to  opinions  of  faith,  to 
principles  of  conduct,  or  to  rules  of  life  and  manners,  but 
to  engagements  to  undertake,  and  exertions  to  accomplish,  a 
specific  object ;^^  and  what  that  was  has  already  been 
mentioned. 

By  MYSTERY,  in  the  ecclesiastical  use  and  sense,  is 
meant,  something  secret,  uncommimicated  ;  ^  religious  rites  or 
ceremonies;  or  as  defined  by  Elias  Cretensis,  in  his 
Commentary  on   Gregory  Nazianzen,^*  "  Those  thirigs 

^'  Arcana  Sacramentalia  revelata,  p.  Q7. 

^  To  aTCo^QijTov,  rem  arcanam,  occultam,  non  omnibus  notam. 
ChrysoSTOM  :  Horn.  vii.  ad  1  Corinth. — Mvarrj^iov  leyerat  to  firj 
Ttaai  SerjXoviiisvov,  aXla  fiovots  roig  (fikois  d'aQ^ov/nsvov.  Mysterium 
dicitur  quod  non  omnibus  declaratur,  sed  solis  amicis  creditur 
Theodoket,  in  cap.  xv.  epist.  1  Corinth.  CASAUBOist,  Exercit.  xvi.  ad 
Baron,  treats  learnedly  on  this  subject. 

^  Hysteria  appellanturea  quse  apud  nos  in  maximis  festis  pera- 
guntur,  et  item  Mvrjacs,  eorum,  quantum  licet,  cum  metu  et  reverantise 


11 

which  are  transacted  by  us  in  solemn  festivals  are  called 
MYSTERIES,  the  hiowlcdge  of  which  is  attained  by  superior 
illumination,  &c.,  and  imparted  only  under  the  guard  of 
special  caution,  restrictions,  and  injunctions  of  secrecy." 
The  obligation  which  was  at  first,  and  still  is,  exacted 
from  the  initiates,  was  not  of  the  nature  of  the  solemn 
OATH  which  is  administered  in  courts  of  justice,  called 
by  the  Greeks  Oi^y.o^,  and  by  the  Latins  jusjurandum ;  but 
a  sacramentmn,  i.  e.,  protestation,  something  declared  by  a 
solemn  or  holy  mind  ;  and  of  the  precise  nature,  as  well 
as  name,  of  the  promise  or  engagement  made  by  soldiers 
to  be  true  to  their  commander.^^  Thus,  in  the  first 
century,  Pliny  reports  in  his  letter  to  the  Emperor 
Trajan,  that  the  Christians  were  wont  to  meet  together 
in  the  night,  and  bind  themselves  by  an  obligation  of 
fealty,  ''  sacramentum  ;""  and  Herodian,  at  tlie  beginning 
of  the  third  century,  says,  "  We  retain  still  the  military 
engagement,  which  is  a  sacred  obligation  of  the  Roman 
nobility."^^  As  tliis  immediately  preceded  tlie  communi- 
cation of  the  holy  mystery,  the  terms  sacrament  and 
mystery  were  used  as  synonymous,  or  of  like  import;  thus, 
the  person  who  had  received  the  knowledge  of  the  mys- 
tery, was  said  to  have  received  the  sacrament.  And  so, 
in  ecclesiastical  history,  the  word  fivavri^iov  in  the  G-reek, 
w^as  rendered  sacramentiim  in  the  Latin,  writers  f^  but 
through  modern  writers  a  mistake  runs  concerning  what 
the  ancients  called  sacramentum,  as  though  it  meant  the 
eucharist;  whereas  it  means  only  the  obligation  of  the  initi- 
ated. Still,  there  is  a  bearing  upon  its  original  designation 
in  the  terms  by  which  it  is  now  defined — "  an  outward 
and  visible  sign  of  an  inward  and  spiritual  grace." 

explicatio,  quae  hseo  mystica  sunt,  nee  apud  vulgus  efFeranda ;  et  quia 
lis  quibus  hgec  traduntur  danda  opera  est  ut  sensus  suos  velut 
claudentes,  ac  supra  omnes  corporeas  rerum  assui'gentes,  supemas 
illuminationes  excipiant. — Eli^  Cretensi's  Comment,  in  Greg. 
Nazianz.  Orat.  iii.  §  104.,  v.  ii.,  p.  374. 

MTZTHPION^Mysterium — arcanum  ad  aliqua  sacra  pertinens ; 
res  arcana  et  paucis  cognita,  neque  communicanda  nisi  initiatis. — 
Suicer. 

^°  See  Appendix,  Note  F. 

36  ^yp  (fvlMaaovxEQ  rov  ar^arioTiKov  o^y.ov  og  eari  rrjs  Pcofiaicov 
a^XVS  ovi"-vov  /uvazTj^iov.  Servato  etiammilitari  jurejurando,  quod  est 
unum  Komani  principatus  mysterium  sanctissimum. — Herodian, 
lib.  viii.  2'  See  Appendix,  Note  G. 


12 

I  now  proceed  to  quote  from  the  Christian  fathers 
some  passages  referring  to  this^  recondite  discipline,  the 
mysteries,  and  the  adepts.^^ 

In  the  Apostolic  Constitutions,  which  are  ascribed  to 
Clement,  the  fellow-labourer  of  Saint  Peter  and  Saint 
Paul,  there  is  this  injunction, — "These  regulations  must 
on  no  account  be  communicated  to  all  sorts  of  persons, 
because  of  the  mysteries  contained  in  them."^^  And  it  is 
made  a  part  of  the  deacon's  office,  not  only  to  see  that 
the  uninitiated  [afivr,roi'\  have  retired  before  the  presiding 
officer  speaks,  but  to  keep  the  doors,  that  none,  who  are 
2minitiated,  should  enter  during  the  time  of  the  oblation  ','^^ 
a  service  still  performed  by  deacons  in  the  masonic 
lodges.  Nor  can  it  be  duobted  of  whom  are  required  the 
qualifications  "  irre-proacliahle  and  well  reported  ;  of  a  sound 
mind  and  body,  having  no  blemish  or  defect,  neither  maimed  nor 
mutilated:'^^ 

St.  Clement  of  Alexandria,  one  of  the  most  emi- 
nent fathers  of  the  church,  who  v^^rote  towards  the  end 
of  the  second  century,  frequently  compares  this  secret 
DISCIPLINE  with  the  Heathen  mysteries,  and  their  interior 
and  recondite  wisdom  ;  and  defends  it  by  a  reference  to 
what  the  wisest  aspired  to  and  honoured.'^^  He  promises 
that  he  would  advert  to  some  of  the  chief  or  leading 
points  of  this  venerable  knowledge  in  his  Stromata,  but 
represents  himself  as  bound  not  openly  to  make  known, 
or  explain  the  whole  of  it,  lest,  according  to  the  proverb, 
"he  should  put  a  sword  into  the  hands  of  a  child. "'^  To 
an}'-  one  who  might  be  at  a  loss  to  account  for  his  declin- 
ing to  make  publicly  known,  and  in  a  great  measure 
altogether  concealing,  a  species  of  knowledge  confessedly 
of  high  import,  he  replies,  that  it  was  not  to  be  com- 
prehended except  by  minds  that  had  been  purged  and 
delivered  from  the  dominion  of  the  passions;  that  there 
would,  moreover,  be  a  danger  in  it,  lest  occasion  might 
be  given  to  contentious  persons,  for  cavilling  and  insult.** 

Many  other  passages  of  this  kind  are  to  be  met  with 

"8  See  Apendix,  Note  H. 

^  d'  y^Qi]  drjfioaiEvsiv  snt  Ttavxtov,  dia  ra  ev  avrais  fivoTixa. 

*  <I>vXaTTEad'coaav  8s  at  d'v^ai  fx-rj  rig  aniaros  eiaeXd'si,  r;  afivTjro&. 

■"  See  Appendix,  Note  I.  ■'^  See  Appendix,  Note  J. 

^  See  Appendix,  Note  K.  ^^  See  Appendix,  Note  L. 


13 

in  St.  Clement,  by  any  who  will  but  diligently  explore 
his  Stromata. 

I  make  another  extract  from  this  ancient  writer,  which 
may  elucidate  the  frequent  references  in  Freemasonry 
to  the  east^  the  place  of  light — and  to  the  construction  of 
churches,  so  that  the  altar  should  be  at  the  east. 

"  As  the  east  is  the  image  of  the  new-born  day,  and 
thence  the  light  is  diffused,  dispelling  the  darkness  ;  and 
inasmuch  as,  to  those  who  are  involved  in  ignorance,  the 
being  brought  to  light  by  the  opening  day  of  the  know- 
ledge of  truth,  is  as  the  rising  sun  ; — so  devotion  should 
be  paid  by  facing  the  east;  and  ancient  temples  were  so 
built  that  the  worshippers  who  stood  looking  at  the 
monuments  should  be  taught  to  turn  towards  the  east."'*^ 

Another  reason,  indeed,  is  assigned  by  St.  Basil  in  the 
xcii.  Cafio7i,  and  b}''  Athanasius,  qucest.  ad.  Antiochnm,  q. 
xxxvii.,  "Because  Christ  made  his  ap]3earance  on  earth 
in  the  east,  and  there  ascended  into  heaven,  and  there 
will  appear  again  at  the  last  day;  so  that  the  faithful 
who  look  for  his  glorious  appearing  should  pray  towards 
the  east." 

Tertullian,  in  the  second  century,  after  repelling,  in 
his  most  admirable  Apology,  the  vile  accusations  brought 
against  the  Order,  says,  "If  we  do  all  in  private,  how 
came  you  to  know  what  is  done?  Not  from  one  of  our- 
selves ;  for  none  are  admitted  to  religious  mysteries 
without  an  oath  of  secrecy.  We  appeal  to  your  Thracian 
and  Eleusinian  mysteries.  And  we  are  especially  bound 
to  this  caution,  because,  if  we  proved  faithless,  we  should 
not  only  provoke  heaven,  but  draw  upon  our  heads  the 
utmost  rigour  of  human  displeasure.  And  how  should 
strangers  betray  us?  They  know  nothing  but  by  report 
and  hearsay ;  for,  hence  ye  profane !  is  the  prohibition  from 
all  holy  mysteries.  And  as  to  the  evidence  from  common 
fame,  you  know  how  little  it  is  to  be  depended  upon; 
and  yet  this  fame  is  the  only  evidence  you  produce 
against  us;  and  she  is,  moreover,  the  worst  evidence, 
because  she  has  continued  so  many  years  to  publish  and 
to  insinuate  into  the  minds  of  men  these  wicked  stories, 
and  yet  is  still  as  far  from  proving  them."''^ 

Reprobating  their  injustice,  he  says,  "Because  they 

•*^  See  Appendix,  Note  M.  ■'^  See  Appendix,  Note  N. 


14 

know  little  or  nothing  of  our  principles,  tliey  despise 
and  condemn  them,  and  endeavour  to  blacken  that  vir- 
tue and  goodness,  which  is  so  conspicuous  in  us,  with 
imagined  vices  and  impurities :  whereas  it  would  be  more 
just  to  judge  of  our  secret  actions  by  those  that  appear, 
than  to  condemn  what  is  evidently  good  and  praiseworthy 
upon  suspicion  of  private  faults." 

MiNUcius  Felix  wrote  a  learned  and  eloquent  defence 
of  the  Christian  religion,  which  Dr.  Lardner  thinks  was 
.pubKshed  about  A.  D.  210.  This  work  is  in  the  form 
of  a  dialogue  between  Ca3cilius  NataHs,  a  Heathen,  and 
Octavius  Januarius,  a  Christian,  in  which  Minucius  was 
judge.  Among  other  things,  Caecilius  states,  that  "the 
Christians  know  one  another  by  secret  signs,  and  love  one 
another  almost  before  they  are  acquainted. "^^ 

Origen,  who  wi'ote  about  the  commencement  of  the 
third  century,  in  reply  to  the  cavil  of  Celsus  that  there 
was  among  the  Cinistians  a  secret  doctrine.,  K^vfiov  Soyfia, 
says,  "that  inasmuch  as  the  essential  and  imjjortant 
doctrines  and  principles  of  Christianity  were  openly 
taught,  it  was  foolish  to  object  that  there  were  other 
things  which  were  recondite,  and  not  disclosed  to  all ;  for 
this  is  common  to  the  Christian  discipline  with  that  of 
the  philosophers,  where  some  things  are  exterior,  and 
some  interior,  for  it  is  enough  that  he  says  it  was  so  with 
some  of  the  disciples  of  Pythagoras,  who  were  taught  in 
private  what  it  was  not  suitable  to  communicate  to  un- 
purified  ears ;  nay,  neither  to  the  Greeks,  nor  barbarians, 
is  it  considered  wrong  that  their  mysteries  are  hidden. 
Rashly  and  unjustly,  therefore,  does  he  criminate  the 
Christians  for  having  something  occult."''^ 

From  the  recovered  fragment  of  a  Disputation  of 
Archelaus,  who  was  Bishop  of  Mesopotamia,  in  278, 
the  following  extract  is  made ; — it  is  part  of  an  address 
to  a  newly  admitted  member.  "These  mysteries  the 
Church  now  communicates  to  him  who  has  passed 
through  the  introductory  grade.  They  are  not  explained 
to  the  Gentiles  at  all ;  nor  are  they  taught  openly  in  the 
hearing  of  catechumens :  but  much  that  is  spoken,  is 
in  disguised  terms,  that  the  faithful  \nil.TOI'\  who  pos- 
sess the  knowledge,  may  be  still  more   informed,  and 

■*'  See  Appendix,  Note  0.  ^*  See  Appendix,  Note  P. 


15 

those  who  are  not  acquainted  with  it  suffer  no  disadvan- 
tage."49 

St.  Cyril,  of  Jerusalem^  in  the  beginning  of  the  fourth 
century,  in  his  Catecliesis,  which  is  allowed  to  be  the  most 
ancient  and  best  digested  abridgment  of  Christian  insti- 
tutes, says,  "  The  Lord  spake  in  parables  to  his  hearers 
in  general,  but  to  his  disciples  he  explained  in  private 
the  parables  and  comparisons  of  which  he  had  made  use 
in  public.  The  splendour  of  glory  is  for  those  who  are 
early  enlightened  ;  obscurity  and  darkness  are  the  portion 
of  the  unbelievers  and  the  ignorant*  Just  so  the  cliurcli 
discovers  its  mysteries  to  those  who  have  advanced  be- 
yond the  class  of  catechumens ; — we  employ  obscure 
terms  to  others."^ 

St.  Basil,  surnamed  the  Great,  Bishop  of  Csesarea,  about 
the  middle  of  the  fourth  centuiy,  remarks,  "We  receive 
the  dogmas  transmitted  to  us  by  writing,  and  those 
which  have  descended  to  us  from  the  apostles  beneath 
the  mystery  of  oral  tradition ; — for  several  things  have 
been  handed  to  us  without  wi-iting,  lest  the  vulgar,  too 
familiar  with  our  dogmas,  should  lose  a  due  respect  for 
them." — "  This  is  what  the  uninitiated  are  not  permitted 
to  contemplate ;  and  how  should  it  ever  be  becoming  to 
write  and  circulate  an  account  of  among  the  people  V 
These  secrets  he  calls  ano^^r^ra,  not  to  be  divulged,  but 
locked  up  in  silence.  Referring  to  the  charitable  institu- 
tions for  the  reception  of  sojourners,  he  exclaims,  "What 
injustice  can  be  attributed  to  us  by  the  erection  of  lodges 
for  the  reception  of  sojourners  who  come  to  us,  and  for 
the  relief  of  indigent  and  distressed  brethren 'i"'^^ 

St.  Gregory  Nazianzen,  one  of  the  greatest  ornaments 
of  the  Greek  church,  and  Bishop  of  Constantinople  in 
379,  says,  "You  have  heard  as  much  of  the  mystery  as 
we  are  allowed  to  speak  openly  in  the  ears  of  all ;  the 
rest  will  be  communicated  to  you  in  private,  and  that 
you  must  retain  within  yourself." — "  Our  mysteries  are 
not  to  be  expressed  to  strangers."^^  Referring  to  those 
who  censured,  he  remarked,  "In  this  only  they  show 
their  piety,  that  they  condemn  others  as  deficient  in 
godliness." 


*^  See  Appendix,  Note  Q.  ^  See  Appendix,  Note  E. 

*^  See  Appendix,  Note  S.  ^'  See  Appendix,  Note  T. 


16 

St.  Ambrose,  Archbishop  of  Milan,  at  the  close  of  the 
fourth  century,  declares,  "  AH  the  mystery  should  be  kept 
concealed,  guarded  by  a  faithful  silence,  lest  it  should  be 
inconsiderately  divulged  to  the  ears  of  the  profane."  And 
in  his  book  on  the  Mysteries,  [c.  i.,  n.  2.]  "It  is  not  given 
to  all  to  contemplate  the  depth  of  our  mysteries :  the 
Levites  exclude  from  them,  at  first,  that  they  may  not 
be  seen  by  those  who  ought  not  to  behold  them,  nor  re- 
ceived by  those  wlio  cannot  preserve  them."  In  his 
comment  upon  the  verse  in  Psalm  cxvii.,  "J  have  hidden 
thy  ivords  in  my  heart,  that  I  may  not  sin,''''  he  remarks,  "He 
«ins  against  God  who  divulges  to  the  unworthy  the 
mysteries  confided  to  him.  The  danger  is  not  merely 
of  violating  truth,  but  of  telling  truth,  if  he  allow  him- 
self to  give  hints  of  them  to  those  from  whom  they 
ought  to  be  concealed."  And  he  opposes  such  indiscre- 
tion by  the  words  of  our  Saviour,  "Beware  of  casting 
your  pearls  before  swine. "^ 

St.  Augustine,  Bishop  of  Hyppo,  in  395,  says, — 
"Having  dismissed  the  catechumens,  we  have  retained 
you  only  to  be  our  hearers;  because,  besides  those  things 
which  belong  to  all  Christians  in  common,  we  are  now 
to  discourse  to  you  of  sublime  mysteries,  which  none 
are  qualified  to  hear  but  those  who  by  the  master's  fa- 
vour are  made  partakers  of  them.  You  ought,  therefore, 
to  attend  to  them  with  the  greater  reverence,  by  how 
much  more  sublime  those  principles  are,  which  are 
committed  only  to  the  approved,  than  those  which 
others  are  w^ont  to  hear."  And  he  declares  that  to  have 
taught  them  openly  would  be  a  betraying  of  them.^* 

St.  Chrysostom,  Bishop  of  Constantinople,  in  398, 
expresses  himself  as  follows,  on  the  secrecy  of  the  mys- 
teries. "  I  wish  to  speak  openly,  but  I  dare  not,  on  ac- 
count of  those  who  are  not  initiated.  These  persons 
render  explanations  more  difficult  for  us,  by  obliging  us 
either  to  speak  in  obscure  terms,  or  to  unveil  the  things 
which  are  secret:" — but  adds,  "I  shall,  therefore,  avail 
myself  of  disguised  terms,''''  discoursing  oweayiaa/nevcog, 
adumbratim. — "  When  the  holy  mysteries  are  celebrated, 
we  drive  away  all  uninitiated  persons,  and  then  shut  the 
doors." 

^  See  Appendix,  Note  U.  f^  See  Appendix,  Note  V. 


17 

He  mentions  the  acclamations  practised  by  those  who 
are  initiated  in  the  mysteries,  and  which  (he  says)  "I 
here  pass  over  in  silence,  for  it  is  forbidden  to  disclose 
such  things  before  the  profane. "^^ 

To  show  how  often  this  venerable  father  refers  to  the 
Discipline  of  the  Secret,  I  quote  the  observation  of  the 
learned  Casaubon.  "Is  there  any  one  so  much  a 
stranger  to  the  writings  of  the  fathers,  who  has  not  re- 
marked, when  any  allusion  is  made  to  the  mysteries,  that 
the  phrase,  the  initiated  hiow  ivhat  I  mean,  is  the  apology 
for  not  being  more  explicit?  It  occurs  at  least  fifty 
times  in  the  writings  of  Chrysostom  alone,  and  as  often 
in  those  of  Augustin."^*^ 

Palladius,  in  his  life  of  Chrysostom,  records  as  a 
great  outrage,  that  a  tumult  having  been  excited  against 
him  by  his  enemies,  they  forced  their  way  into  the  pene- 
tralia, where  the  uninitiated  beheld  what  it  was  not 
proper  for  them  to  see.  And  Chrysostom  himself  men- 
tions the  circumstance  in  his  Epistle  to  Pope  Innocent.^' 

St.  Cyril,  Bishop  of  Alexandria,  in  412,  in  his  Vllth 
book  against  Julian,  declares,  "  These  mysteries  are  so 
profound  and  so  exalted,  that  they  can  be  comprehended 
by  those  only  who  are  enlightened.  I  shall  not,  there- 
fore, attempt  to  speak  of  what  is  most  admirable  in  them, 
lest,  by  discovering  them  to  the  uninitiated,  I  should 
offend  against  the  injunction  not  to  give  what  is  holy  to 
the  impure,  nor  to  cast  pearls  before  such  as  cannot 
estimate  their  worth."  And  elsewhere,  "  I  should  say 
much  more  if  I  were  not  afraid  of  being  heard  by  those 
who  are  uninitiated ;  because  men  are  apt  to  deride 
what  they  do  not  understand  :  and  the  ignorant,  not 
being  aware  of  the  weakness  of  their  minds,  condemn 
what  they  ought  most  to  venerate."^^ 

Theodoret,  Bishop  of  Cyzicus,  in  Syria,  420,  in  the 
first  of  his  three  dialogues,  that  entitled  "  The  Immu- 
table," introduces  Orthodoxus  speaking  thus — "  Answer 
me,  if  you  please,  in  mystical  and  obscure  terms,  for, 
perhaps,  there  are  persons  present  who  are  not  initiated 
in  the  mysteries."     And  in  his  preface  to  Ezekiel,  tracing 


^  See  Appendix,  Note  W.  ^  See  Appendix,  Note  X. 

s''  See  the  passage  in  Casaubon,  de  rebus  Sacris  et  Eccles.,  p.  558. 
**  See  Appendix,  Note  Y. 


18 

up  the  secret  discipline  to  the  commencement  of  the 
Christian  era,  says,  "  these  mysteries-  are  so  august,  that 
we  ought  to  keep  them  with  the  greatest  caution."^'' 

St.  DioNYsius,  the  Aj-eojxigite,  is  said  to  have  been 
the  first  Bishop  of  Athens,  after  he  was  converted  by  St. 
Paul,  [Acts  xvii,  34.]  and  to  have  suffered  martyrdom 
about  A.  D.  95  :  but  the  works  attributed  to  him  were 
probably  written  in  the  fifth  century.  I  do  not  refer  to 
them  as  of  much  importance,  other  than  to  show  that  at 
the  time  of  their  publication,  the  Secret  Association  ob- 
tained no  little  celebrity.  The  frequent  allusions  to  it 
in  various  parts  of  his  Ecclesiasticae  and  Hierarchiae,  are 
highly  interesting.^" 

To  show  that  these  mysteries  were  retained  under 
ecclesiastical  sanction  to  a  still  later  period,  I  refer  to 
the  Seal  of  the  ancient  Abbey  of  Arbroath,  iyi  Scotland, 
and  to  the  explanation  given  of  it  by  the  Rev.  Charles 
CoRDiNET,  in  his  "  Description  of  the  Ruins  of  North 
Britain,"  2  vols.  4to. 

"  The  figures  sculptured  on  the  seal  marked  INITIA- 
TION, evidently  represent  (says  he)  some  formidable 
ceremony  in  a  sacred  place,  where  a  pontiff  presides  in 
state  ;  one  hand  on  his  breast  expressive  of  seriousness, 
the  other  stretched  out  at  a  right  angle  holding  a  rod 
and  cross,  the  badge  of  high  office,  while  he  makes  some 
awful  appeal  respecting  a  suppliant,  who,  in  a  loose 
robe,  blindfolded,  with  seeming  terror  kneels  before  the 
steps  of  an  altar,  while  several  attendants  with  drawn 
swords  brandished  them  over  his  head."  Mr.  Cokdinet 
intimates  the  resemblance  of  these  figures  to  an  engraving 
which  made  the  frontispiece  to  a  book  about  Free- 
masonry :  and  then  adds,  that  both  bring  to  remem- 
brance a  description  which  Plutarch,  in  his  famous  essay 
"  De  Osiris,"  gives  of  the  engraving  of  a  seal  which  the 
Priests  of  Isis  used  in  their  solemnities, — namely,  that 
of  a  man  kneeling,  with  his  hands  hound,  a  knife  at  his  throat, 
&c.  "  And  (says  he)  is  it  not  a  little  remarkable,  which 
is  more  to  the  present  purpose,  in  how  many  particulars 
the  mysterious  fate  of  Osiris,  as  recorded  by  the  above 
celebrated  author,  corresponds  with  the  accounts  of 
Hiram  ;  a  strong   insinuation    that    the    annals    of  the 

^^  See  Appendix,  Note  Z.  ^°  See  Appendix,  Note  AA. 


19 

latter,  however  mutilated  and  defaced,  have  somehow 
or  other  been  descended  from  the  Eleusiniaji  Mysteries, 
and  that  the  Masonic  rites  of  initiation  into  a  Lodge,  are  a 
faint  sketch,  an  imperfect  epitome  of  the  august  cere- 
monies which  took  place  at  initiation  into  the  secrets 
which  hallowed  the  primaval  fanes :  and  this  high  origin, 
when  discerned,  may  have  been  at  the  bottom  of  that 
general  respect  which  men  of  learning  have  avowed  for 
them. 

"This  subject,  as  an  amusing  research  into  antiquity, 
may  be  resumed ;  it  only  remains  at  present  to  specify 
that  Hiram  coming  forth  in  hallowed  dignity  of  charac- 
ter from  within  the  veil  of  the  sanctuary ;  violated  in 
the  open  Temple  of  the  world  by  the  ignorant  and  pro- 
fane ;  concealed  for  a  time  in  awful  secrecy  ; — the  want 
of  his  presence  pathetically  deplored  ; — the  ardent  soli- 
citude with  which  he  is  sought  for ;  the  acclamation  of 
joy  at  finding  him  again  ;  and  consequent  discovery  of 
the  WORD,  almost  of  itself  developes  the  secret  lohich  tlie 
'personification  had  involved.'''' 

The  testimony  of  uninterrupted  tradition  for  eighteen 
hundred  years,  corroborates  the  facts  to  which  these 
citations  allude,  and  is  the  only  correct  explanation 
and  illustration  that  can  be  given  of  them.  But  they 
have  been  here  cited,  to  authenticate  that  tradition, — 
and  laid  before  the  uninitiated,  as,  at  least,  presumptive 
evidence;  being  rather  incidental  references,  than  direct 
developements.  But  look  at  the  terms,  ^' pi-omise  of 
secrecy,'''' — ^'hiitiates,^^ — "  7iight  meet'mgs,'''' — "  symhoUc  lec- 
tures,''^— 'tokens  of  cogn'tzance'"'  found  so  frequently  in  the 
writings  of  the  early  Christian  fathers, — and  say,  can 
you  suppose  that  these  are  in  reference  to  the  Lord's 
Supper  only,  or  at  all?  Is  it  not  much  more  consistent 
to  suppose  that  as  they  are  not  used  in  the  celebration 
of  that  rite,  and  have  no  relation  to  its  nature  or  design, 
but  are  peculiar  to  Freemasonry  now,  they  indicate  its 
existence  then?  And  may  we  not  infer  that  the  Frater- 
Jiity  preserved  its  connexion  with  its  parent  stock  till 
past  its  minority,  and  that  coming  of  age  and  free,  it  set 
up  for  itself;  but  still  retained  a  sacred  regard  to  its 
early  discipline,  continued  its  veneration  for  the  holy 
gospel,  and  cherished  and  supported  its  religious  charac- 


20 

ter;  although  it  devoted  itself  more  directly  to  the 
building  of  churches  ? 

Masons  have  always  appeared  in  the  profession  of 
architects, — workmen  in  the  Temple, — erectors  of  a 
sacred  edifice ; — and  they  have  been  either  operative 
craftsmen,  or  superintendents  of  work.  In  consequence 
of  the  changes  which  take  place  in  civil  society,  partly, 
and  partly  from  other  causes, — principally,  perhaps,  for 
the  purpose  of  extending  the  charitable  benefits  of  the 
association,  the  operative  business  of  the  Order  has  been 
superseded  by  the  speculative;  and  the  tools  and  the 
symbols  retained,  while  the  manual  labours  are  not 
required. 

Finally,  the  original  object  of  the  institution  has  been 
answered,  and  that  secrecy  which  was  its  guard  has  ceased 
to  be  necessary  ;  but  the  institution  itself  has  been  con- 
tinued, and  with  it  the  forms  and  ceremonies,  the  rites 
and  requisitions,  which  were  adopted  at  its  early  foun- 
dation. The  indescribable  fascination  of  mysteriousness, 
the  charm  of  fraternal  cordiality,  the  animation  of  fre- 
quent interviews,  together  with  the  ardour  in  the  cause 
of  beneficence  which  is  enkindled  and  diffused,  and 
rendered  of  happy  influence  by  means  peculiarly  their 
own,  are  operating  motives  with  Freemasons  for  attach- 
ment and  adherence  to  the  Order ;  and  these  they  plead 
for  its  continuance. 

^^  Destroy  it  not,  for  a  blessing  is  in  it." — IsAi.  Ixv.  8. 


APPENDIX. 


Note  A.  "  Habebant  symbola,  quibus  in  actu  initiationis  esteban- 
tur,  et  tanquam  tesseris  se  thiasotse  discernebant."    Justin.  Apol.,  2. 

Note  B.  For  such  information  respecting  Hiram  Abiff  as  has 
been  committed  to  writing,  I  refer  to  the  following  works. 

1.  rtabiy  nnsa  i-  e.  Clavicula  Salomonis,  seu  occulta  occultorum, 
orationes  semiforas  ;  liber  de  secretis  secretorwn  ;  septem  altitudines,^ 
&c.  [This  work  was  translated  from  the  original  Hebrew  into  Latin, 
and  enriched  with  illustrations,  hy  Joh.  de  Plexia,  in  the  year  1435, 
and  published  in  1626.] 

2.  R.  Gedalia,  in  Schalscheleth  Hakkabala,  p.  89. 

3.  R.  Schabtai,  in  Siphte  Jeschinim. 

4.  Ti^l-a  Middoth  liber,  sive  tractatus  de  mensuris  Templi.  Edid. 
Const.  L'Empereur.  Lug.  Bat.,  1630.  [This  work  was  republished 
in  the  collections  of  Surenhusius,  pars  ii.,  Amst.,  1702,  fol.  with  a 
commentary  and  notes  by  R.  Mosche,  fil.  Maimonides,  and  R.  Or.  de 
Batenora.] 

5.  -^ypi-i  bs'^ii  ^so  Liter  Templi  Sancti,  a  R.  Jacob  Seshpates, 
Amst.,  1653,  fol. 

6.  Bethabechira,  hoc  est,  Domus  electa.  Versione  Latine  a  Ludov 
de  Viel. 

7.  riisn  ni^.^n  "iCiS  i-  e.  Liber  initiationis  Templi,  ed.  Moses  Ben 
Gerson  Chepetz.  Venet.,  5456.  [A.  0.  1696.]  4to.  [Vide  Acta  Eru- 
ditorum,  1696,  p.  449.] 

8.  JosEPHUs,  Antiq.,  lib.  vii.,  c.  3.,  lib.  viii.,  c.  2. 

9.  Pineda,  de  Rebus  Salomonis.    Venet.,  1611,  fol. 

10.  Oarpzovius,  de  Sapientia  Salomonis.    Lips.,  1673. 

11.  Natalis  Alexand.,  Hist.  Eccles.    Vet.   Test.,  p.  59,  seq.  "  de 
quaestionibus  Salomoni  propos." 

Note  C.  Arringhius  mentions  a  monumental  inscription  dug  up 
in  the  Via  nomentand,  by  which  it  appears  that  the  fate  of  Judas 
became  a  proverbial  form  of  imprecation.  [See  his  Roma  Subterra- 
nea,  p.  436,  and  Mabillon,  Mus.  Ital.,  p.  149.  J.  Albert,  Obs. 
Philol.  in  libros.  Nov.  Feeder.,  p.  233 ;  and  Doddridge's  Family  Ex- 
positor, on  Acts  i.,  19.] 

MALE.  PEREAT.  INSEPULTUS. 
JACEAT.  NON.  RESURGAT. 
CUM.  JUDA.  PARTEM.   HABEAT. 
SI.  QUIS.  SEPULOHRUM.  HUNC.  VIOLAVERIT. 
This  form  appears  also  in  the  oaths  administered  to  a  certain  class 
of  the  early  Christians,  with  additional  formality  of  reference :  "  Si 
vero  non  haec  omnia  servavero,  habeam  partem  cum  Juda,  et  lepra 


22 

Giezi,  et  tremore  Cain,  insuper  et  poenis  quse  lege  eorum  pietatis  con- 
tinentur,  ero  subjectus."  [See  Novella  Constitutiones  Justiniani  ; 
cum  notis  J.  F.  Homberg.  Marb.,  1717,  4to..  lib.  viii.,  tit.  iii.  "  De 
Jurejurando  quod  prtest.  ab  his  qui  administr.  accip."] 

Note  D.  Toia  y.ad'^  ey.agov  sy.y.hjoiav  Tay/uarce,  ev  fiev  to  rcov 
TjyovjLisvcov,  Svo  §e  ra  tcov  viio^e^qy.oTuiv ;  lov  rrjg  eyy.h]aias  rov  X^i- 
arov  Xaov  stg  Svo  Tay^aia  dirj^ijfiei'ov,  sis  2ov  to  rcor  Tiiarcov  yai  riov 
^rjSenco  t^s  8ia  Xovr^ov  nakbvysveaias  rj^icofievcov. 

EusEBius,  Demonstr.  Evang.,  lib.  vii.,  p.  200. 

Note  E.  "  Universam  doctrinam  Cliristianam  veteres  distingue- 
bant  in  t«  sy.fo^a,  id  est,  ea  qu«  enunciari  apud  omnes  poterunt,  et 
Trt  aTtoQQKira,  arcana,  temere  non  evulganda ;  de  quibus  neque  in 
familiaribus  coUoquiis,  neque  in  catechesibus,  neque  in  concionibus 
verba  temere  feciebant  coram  Paganis.  Catechumenis,  aut  quibus  aliis 
non  initiatis."  Casaubon,  Exercit.  de  Rebus  sacrin  el  ecclesiasticls, 
Ex.  xvi.,  p.  556. 

Note  F.  By  reference  to  the  best  authorities,  it  can  be  shown 
that  the  word  Sacramentum  means,  primarily,  the  soldier's  engage- 
ment of  fidelity  to  a  military  commander ;  that  he  will  neither  prove 
traitor  nor  deserter,  but  be  brave  and  persevering  in  the  defence 
of  the  cause  in  which  he  has  enlisted ;  and,  secondarily,  an  oath 
of  allegiance  to  the  government  of  the  country  of  which  he  is  a  sub- 
ject, and  fealty  to  the  master  whom  he  is  bound  to  serve.  In  its 
ecclesiastical  use  and  appropriation  it  means  a  solemn  engagement  to 
be  true  and  faithful  to  the  divine  Lord  and  Master,  and  devoted  to  his 
service  arid  cause. 

The  word  Sacramentum  is  explained  largely,  and  with  many  refei- 
ences  and  authorities,  in  the  Lexicon  Militare  of  Carolus  de  Aquino. 
Rom.,  1724,  fol.,  2  vol. 

Note  G,  "  Sacramentum,  quas  vox  e  versione  vulgata  MTSTH- 
PION  interdum  reddente  Dan.  ii.,  18;  iv.,  6;  Latinum  Patrum  Eccl. 
translata  est,  vetustior  Ecclesia  vocavit  omnis  generis  rem  arcanam, 
partem  dictum  aliquod  obscurum,  partem  symbolum  rei  cujusdam 
sacrae,  partem  actionem  certo  modo  consecratam  et  cum  promisiojie 
quadam  solenni  conjunctam."  Wegscheider,  Instil.  Theol.  Chrisliancs 
dogmatics,  §1^6,  p.  302; — who  adds:  "  Hoc  sensu  Tertullianus,  v. 
Semler  index  Lai.  TertulL,  p.  5,  ct  Hieronymus  potissimum.  v.  Beck 
comment.,  762.  I. — Gerhard,  1.  th.  viii.,  201. — Suicer  Th.  Eccl.,  II., 
582,  ss.  1082,  1265." 

"Apud  Patres  passim  j^iyra  fivarr^Qia  vel  rov  anoQQrirov  fivarr]- 
^<o»'."  Gregor.  Magn.;  De  Consecr.,  Dis.  II.,  canone  LXXIII.  appel- 
larunt  etiam  t«  ei'Sod-Bv  fivar/j^ia,  q.  d..  interiora  mysteria.  Nam 
apud  EpIPHANIu^r,  in  fine  operis,  ubi  instituta  Ecclesise  exponuntur, 
ita  legas,  za  aXka  fivarrjoia  ne^i  Xovtqov  y.ai  tcov  evSo&sp  fivorrj^icov 
ETTirelsrai. 

"  Taciturn  sacramentum," — Tertul.  de  prcescript.  Heret.,  c.  26., 
torn.  I.,  p.  31.  i.  e.  doctrina  remotior  et  arcana.    Not.  Semlee-i  in  loc. 

''  Qui  tantum  sacramentum  etiam  illudendo  prodiderim," — i.  e.  tan- 
tura  mysterium,  tam  arcanam  et  absconditam  doctrinam.  Tb.  Adv. 
Valent.,  c.  xxxii.,  tom.  2,  p.  183. 

"  Hinc  igitur  est  quod  Sacramenta  Patres  aripellarunt  Mysteria, 
Mvrjasis,  rsXeras,  TsXsicoasig,  sTtoTireiag,  sive  sfzo-ifeiag,  TeXeare^iu 
item  reXearty.a  aut  rsXeuorcy.a  juvare^ia,  reXsicorucag  ■d'Ecoaeis,  is^axi^as 


23 

rsXeras;  interdum  vero  o^yia,  sed  rarins,  et  avfi^oXixi]v  ■d'scoloyiavy 
J.  Casaubon  in  Baronium  Exercit.,  xvi.,  cap.  43,  p.  550,  ed.  Lond., 
1614,  fol. 

The  Pagan  mysteries  were  nocturnal.  So,  very  frequently,  were 
the  celebration  of  the  Christian  rites  ;  but  this  probably  may  have 
been  a  consequence  of  persecution.  "  Nocturnis  multi  in  mj^steriis 
peragebantur ;  noctu  etiam  initiatio  Christianorum  inchoabatur." 
Casaubon,  ubi  supra,  p.  555. 

Note  H.  For  the  sake  of  the  learned  reader,  for  whose  satisfaction, 
principally,  this  Appendix  is  made,  I  shall  give  my  references  to  the 
Fathers  in  their  own  words,  quoting  volume  and  page,  and  naming  the 
edition  which  I  have  consulted. 

I  would  here  premise,  that  long  since  this  investigation  was  made, 
I  have  heard  that  the  learned  and  pious  Reinhard  has  asserted  in  his 
"  Christian  Plan,"  that  no  account  is  given  of  any  such  secrets  by  any 
other  writers  than  Clement  of  Alexandria,  and  his  pupil  Origen  ; 
and,  therefore,  we  are  led  to  the  conclusion,  that  ivhat  is  said  by  these 
writers  is  nothing  more  than  the  allegorizing  common  to  the  Alexan- 
drian school,  and  docs  not  afford  the  least  indication  of  an  existing 
Secret  Society. 

Now,  should  it  be  conceded  that  what  Clement  and  Origen  have 
written  is  only  Alexandrian  verbiage, — vox,  et  preterea  nihil, — the 
same  cannot  be  predicated  of  the  numerous  references  to  be  found  in 
the  works  of  Tertullian,  Minucius,  Felix,  Cyril,  Basil,  Gregory 
Nazianzen,  Ambrose,  Augustine,  and  Chrysostom.  The  testimonies 
here  quoted  from  these  Fathers,  ^q\v  as  they  are,  serve  at  least  to 
show  that  the  affirmation,  that  "no  others  than  Clement  and  Ortgen 
had  alluded  to  such  secrets,"  being  incorrect,  must  invalidate  tho 
inference  which  PiEinhard  draws,  and  so  positively  maintains. 

Note  I.  Ar^smovs,  afie/nnrove,  avsyaXrirove'  iva  toaiv  ayioi  am- 
(laii  icai  ipvxrj,  firj  exovTee  ojtiXov  r]  QVTiSa  //  ti  rcov  toiovtcoV  aXXa 
coaiv  aoTioi,  xai  firjSsts  sv  avroig  ij  y.oXo^oe  rj  azeXrjg. 

Const.  Apost.,  lib.  viii..  cap.  xi. 

Note  J.  "  Non  solum  antem  Epicurei  et  Plato  multa  occultabant, 
sed  etiam  Epicurei  dicunt  quasdam  esse  apud  se  arcana,  et  non  per- 
mittere  omnibus  ut  ea  scripta  legant."    Clem.  Alex.  Stromata,  lib.  v. 

The  learned  Pacji,  in  quoting  this  passage,  refers  to  the  declaration 
of  Jamblicus,  lib.  ii.,  de  vita  Pythagoras.  "  Cum  externis,  et,  ut  ita 
dicam,  prophanis,  si  quandoque  usus  fuerit  congregandum  esse,  nequa- 
quam  sua  Sacramenta  enunciabant,  sed  per  symbola  et  arcanas  tes- 
seras  obscure  et  latenter  sibi  mutuo  sensa  mentis  velut  aBuigmatibus 
significabant."  Pagi  Crilica  Historico- Chronologica  in  universes  An- 
nates Ecclesiasticos  Card.  Baronii.     Ant.,  1705,  fol. 

Note  K.  Ta  fzsv  sy.coi'  TtaQanefXTtoi-iai  eXXsycov  sniarrifiovcog,  cpo- 
fiovfiEvoe  v^o-fBiv  a  y.ai  Xeyeiv  ecfvXa^afiev.  Clem.  Alex.  Strom.,  1.  i  , 
c.  i.,  p.  324,  ed.  Potteri,  2  vol.  fol.     Oxon.,  1715. 

Exoifiaxeig  KOviTTeiv  svrsyvcog  ra  T/jg  yvcoaecog  ^ovXovrai  OTteofiaxa. 

lb.  p.  327. 

Oxt  [izyag  o  y.ivSvvog  rev  ano^QijTov  (og  a/.tjO'cog  t//s  ovrcog  (piXouo- 
y)iag  Xoyov  s^oj)y/]aaad'ai  roig  afsiScog  jtavra  /icev  mmXsysiv  ed'eXovaiv 
ovx  ev  diMT],  Tiavra  8a  ovo/uaTa  y.ai  ^Tifiara  wnaQQiTCTOvaiv  ovdaficog 
xoa/zicog.     lb.  cap.  3.,  p.  320.     See  also  1.  ii.,  p.  432. 

Note  M.      ETtei   Ss  yevs&Xiov  r^ius^as  eiy.cop  rj  avaroXq,  y.ay.Ei&ev  Tco 


24 

^cog  av^srai  bv.  ay.orovs  l.a^\i>av  to  tt^otoV  aXXa  xai  rois  ev  ayvoia 
HaXiv  SovfiEvois  avsTEiXs  yvcoaecos  nXe-d'Eias  rjfte^a  icara  Xoyov  rov 
sXiov  Ttpos  Tfjv  Eiod'iv^rjv  avaxoXr^v  at  avyai,,  od'ev  xai  ra  TtaXaiorara 
rcav  is^mv  Ttpos  Svaiv  e^Xensv,  iva  ot  anavri  iipoocoitov  tcov  ayaXfia- 
Tcov  larafisvoi  tt^os  avaroXrjv  Tpsnead'ai  StSaoy.corai. 

Strom.,  1.  vii.,  p.  520. 

For  the  reason  of  churches  being  built  "  due  east  and  west,"  I  refer 
to  the  following  authorities  : 

First,  the  Apostolic  Constitutions,  lib.  ii.,  c.  57,  descriplio  Eccle- 
sicE.  &C.  JJpcoTOv  /Msv  o  Oiy.os  eara  emfii]M]e,  y-ar  avaroXas  Terpa/U- 
fieros,  fil  ey.aiEQOiv  tcov  /ueqcov  t«  naoToipopia  tcqos  m'axoXrjv. — Prime 
quidem  ^"Edes  sit  oblonga3,  ad  orientem  versa,  ex  utraque  parte  Pasto- 
phoria  versus  orientem  habens. 

Secondly.  "  Juxta  usitatiorem  morem,  quo  Basilicarum  prospectus 
ad  orientem  spectabat,  inquit  S.  Paulinos,  Ejjist.  12,  ad  Severum 
ac  multo  post  eum  Stephanus  Tornacensis,  Epist.  104;  itemque 
Walafridus  Strabo  de  rehus  Ecclesiasticis,  cap.  4.  "Atque  earn  ob 
rationem  ut  in  missam  ex  optatam  patriam  Paradisum,  quem  Dens 
plautavit  ad  orientem,  precantes  intuerentur," — docet  Scriptor  Quae- 
stionum  ad  Antiochum  respond.  Qucest.  37,  torn.  II.  Athanasii. — 
Vide  item  Sidonium,  lib.  II.,  Epist.  10,  ibique  doctos  interpretes. 

Note  N.  Si  semper  laternus,  quando  proditum  est  quod  admitti- 
mus  ?  Imo  aquibus  prodi  potuit  ?  Ab  ipsis  enim  reis  non  utique  cum 
vel  ex  forma  omnium  mysteriorum  silentii  fides  debeatur.  Samo- 
thracia  et  Eleusinia  reticentur ;  quanto  magis  talia  quaj  prodita  in- 
terim etiam  humanam  animadversionem  provocabunt,  dum  divina 
servatur.  Si  ergo  non  ipsi  proditeres  sui,  sequitur  ut  extranei,  et 
unde  extraneis  notitia?  cum  semper  etiam  pie  initiationes  arceant 
profanos  et  ab  arbitris  caveant  nisi  si  impie  minus  metuunt." — "  Na- 
tura  famge  omnibus  notum  est. — Hanc  indicem  adversus  nos  profertis, 
quae  quod  aliquando  jactavit,  tantoque  temporis  spatio  in  opinionem 
corroboravit.  usque  adhuc  probare  non  valuit."  Tertullian,  Apol., 
c.  vii.,  tom.  v.,  p.  21. 

"  Laudant  quie  sciunt,  vituperant  quae  ignorant ;  et  id  quod  sciunt, 
eo  quod  ignorant,  corrumpunt.  Cum  sit  justius  occulta  de  mani- 
festis,  praejudicare,  quam  manifesta  de  occultis  prsedamnare."  lb. 
c.  iii.,  p.  11. 

Note  0.  ''  Multis  se  notis  et  insignibus  noscunt,  et  amant  mutuo 
pcene  antequam  noveriut."  Minucius  Felix.  Octav.,  Sect,  ix.,  p.  90, 
ed.  Gronov.  8vo.     Lug.  Bat.,  1709. 

Note  P.  AEyEcv  y.pvcpiov  sivai  ra  Soyfta,  Ttavv  eotiv  aroTtov'  to 
8s  Eivai  Tiva  oiov  fiExa  ra  E^ozEpixa,  fiiq  sis  Tois  TtoXXois  (p&avovTa,  oi 
fiovov  tSiov  Tov  xpi-OTiavcoi'  X^oyov,  aXXa  yap  y.at  tcov  cpiXoaocpcav'  Ttspt 
ois  TtvES  (lExa  Eoav  E^coTEpiy.oi.  Xoyoi,  etbqoi  Sb  EocoTEpiy.oi,  xai  tives 
fiBTa  aicpvovTES-  JIvd'ayoya,  cos  avTos  E^a.  AXXoi  §"  ev  aTto^prjrco 
SiBaaxofiBvoi  ra  fiEv  a^ia  cpd'avBiv  eis  ay.pas  ^ejSeXovs  y.at  fiESsTta  nsxa- 
S'apfiEvas'  ftai  rcavxa  Se  ra  j3apj3apov  y,pvcpia  ovTa  ov  Sta^s^XrjTat' 
SioTtsp  fiaTTjv  /htjSe  vo7]aas  ay.pi^cos  to  y.pvcpiov  tov  %piaxiavta(iov,  8ia- 
^uXXei  avTo?-  Origen  contra  Celsum,  lib.  I.,  §  7,  Oper.,  tom.  i,,  p.  325 
ed.  Delarne. 

Note  Q.  TavTa  ra  /nvaTspta  vvv  rj  EHxXrjaia  SiByeiraf  ovx  earif 
e&os  ed'viicots  SirjyBta&af  ov  yap  ES'vixa  t«  dtayovfied'a  fivaxEpia' 
m^  rcifv  (MOTEptcov  sni  y.arexovfiBvcov  Xovxcog  XaXovfirjv  enixexaXvft- 


25 

fievcosa  iva  oi  Eioovres  TCiaxot  vcoriOcoaty.ai  oi  fir;  siSovrsg  firj  j32,a^ovarj. 
Collectanea  iNfonumentorum  yeterum  Ecclesire  qute  hactenus  in  Biblio- 
theca  Vaticana  delituerunt,  a  Laur.  a  Zacagnius,  e  soriptis  Codias 
nunc  primum  edidit.     Rom.,  1698,  4to..  p.  101. 

Note  R.  EXsysv  o  Kvqios  Totg  /nr]  ay.ovaat.  Swaiievoig,  ev  Tiaqa^o 
XttiS,  rois  Se  fiaS'/jraig  STrsXvs  y.ax  i§iav  tag  jcaoa^oXag.  O  aiyaofio 
Trjg  Soirjg  roig  TtEcpmriff^uai'oig,  rj  Ti<pX(oais  roig  aTtxaroig'  ravra  ra  fiv 
GTrjqba  vvv  n  ey,y.%i]aia  Scqyenai  riov  sy.  y.axriypvfisvcov  fisrafiaXXofievoj 
ovy,  sarii'  sd'og  eS'riy.or.g  Siriysiad'ai:  Cyril  Hierosol.  Oatechesis  vi., 
§  xvL,  p.  97,  ed.  Milles,  foi.     Oxon.,  1703. 

Note  S.  Ov  yuQ  Si]  rovroig  aQy.&viu.ed'a  cov  a  anoaxoXog  rj  to 
evayyeXiov  ETtEf.(,vi]0\)'i],  aXXa  y.at  7t^oXeyof.iev  y.at  sTtiXeyouev  ere^a,  cog 
ftsyaXrjv  £%ovTa  TCqog  to  juvoTtjoiov  ttjv  lO'/vv,  sx  rov  ay^acpov  8i8aay.a- 
Xias  ■jta^ajSovTsg.  S.  Basil,  de  Spiritu  Sancto,  Opera,  torn,  ii.,  p.  352, 
fol.     Paris,  1678,  3  torn.  fol. 

K.aXog  sy.stvoc  deSiSay/Ltevoo  rcov  fivaTr^Quov  ra  asfiva  aiioTtrj  §ia- 
oco^sad'ai,  a  ya^  ovde  stiotttovsip  e^exi  roig  auvr/Zoig  tovtiov  itrng 
ety.cog  ti]v  SiSaoxaXiav  d'^iu/u/Sovsiv  et^  ygajufzaaiv.  lb. 

Tcov  sy.  rrj  EyMX7]aia  TtEtfivXayfiBvcov  §oy.(iarcov  y.ai  yri^vy/narcov  to. 
fiTj  EX  Tov  syy^atfov  SiSaaxaXiag  sxofir;r,  ra  Srj  sy.  t//s  rcov  aitoaroXcov 
TtaQaSoGBcog  SiaSod'Evra  nfiiv  ev  fivarriQico  itaqa  sdEi^aiuEd'a.  lb. 

Tiva  8b  a8iy.ovf.iE7'  y.azaycoyra  roig  ^si'O'g  oiy.oSofiovvXEs  roig  xara 
Tta^oSov  sjctfoircoot,  y.ai  roig  d'EQc/.TiEiag  rivog  8ia  rrjv  aa&EVEiav  Seo- 
fiEvoig.  Basil.,  Epis.  ccclxxi.,  p.  1147. 

Note  T.  Ext]g  rov  fivarrj^iov  Ey.cpoQa,  y.ai  rag  rcov  TtoXXtov  axoaig 
ovy.  aTCOQ^rjra.i'  ra  8e  aXXa  Eiaio  fiad"tiar],  a  y.ai  y.^vy.'rjg  Ttaoa  asavrco 
atpQayi8i  y.^arovfiEva,  TtXrjv  sy.Eivo  EvnyyEX.i'Qo uai.  Greg.  Nazaiaz., 
Oral,  xl.,  p.  672.     Opera  edit.  Morelli,  2  vol.  fol.     Paris,  1630. 

Mi]8e  Bxcpoga  roig  e^co  ra  ttoXXu  rcov  7]/UErE^tcov  jUvarrjgicov  eivai. 

lb.   Orat.  xlii. 

Note  U.  "  Latere  debet  omne  mj-sterium,  et  quasi  operiri  silentio, 
ne  profanis  temere  divulgitur  auribus."  Ambrosius.  ne  Abra.,  1.  i., 
c.  v.,  No.  38,  torn,  i.,  p.  223.     Opera,  2  vol.  fol.     Paris,  1686. 

"  Cave  ne  incante  divulges  mysteria.  Sunt  plurima  quae  cruda  dis- 
pliceant,  toda  delectant.  Fove  igitar  pectore  tua  alta  mysteria  qua3 
prematuro  sermone  et  insidiis  auribus  vel  infirmis  quasi  incocta  com- 
mittas,  atque  auditor  avertatur  et  cum  horrore  fastigiat ;  qui  si 
coctiora  gustaret  spiritalis  cibi  percipiat  suavitatem."  lb.  torn,  i., 
p.  146. 

"  Est  etiam  ilia  commendae  orationis  et  voti  disciplina  ut  non 
divulgemus  orationem,  sed  abscondita  teneamus  mysteria."  lb.  de 
Cain  et  Abel.  torn,  i.,  p.  146. 

"  Decat  Deo  qui  commissa  sibi  mysteria  putaverit  indignis  esse 
vulganda.  Periculum  itaque  non  est  solum  falsa  dicere,  sed  etiam 
vera,  si  quis  ea  insinuat  quibus  non  oportet."     lb.  torn,  i.,  p.  805. 

Note  V.  "  Dimissis  jam  catechumenis,  vos  tantum  ad  audiendum 
retinuemus.  Quia,  prseter  ilia  qua3  omnes  Christianos  convenit  in 
commune  servare,  specialiter  de  coelestibus  mysteriis  locuturi  sumus, 
qu£e  audire  non  possunt,  nisi  qui  eo  donante  jam  domino  perceperunt. 
Tauto  ergo  majore  reverentia  audire  qua3  dicimus,  qiianto  majore  ista 
sunt  quae  fidelibus  committuntur,  quam  ilia  qute  etiam  Catechumeni 
audire  consuaverunt."  Augustin,  Serm.  i.  ad  Neophytos,  in  Append. 
torn.  X.,  p.  845.     Opera,  Basil,  1569,  fol. 


26 

••'  Prodisse  potius  quam  edicisse  oestimantur." 

"  Non  solum  sancto  quodam  silentio  divinora  dogmata,  ne  in  vulgus 
publicata  vilescerent,  involuta,  Ethnicorum  Theologi  tenuere,  sed  ut 
eandem  viam  inivere,  imo  proeivere,  sacri  utriusque  Foederis  Scripto- 
res  ;  quod  Dei  secretum  area  foederis,  a  suprapositis  Cherubinis  obum- 
brata  et  velando  honorata,  siguificatum  olim  fuisse."  lb.  De  bono 
persevan.,  1.  ii.,  c.  16,  torn.  vii. 

Note  W.  BovXofiai  (.isra  aacfcos  nvrco  eiTTEif  ov  roXfico  Ss  §i.a 
auvvTug.  OvTot  ya^  Svuy.oXcore^av  rj/ntv  Tcoiovoi  t/]v  £^ey?]aiv  ccfayxa- 
^ovres,  'rj  fir}  Xeyeii'  aafco^'  rj  sig  avrovg  sk^s^s/.!'  ra  nTCo^^rjra.  Chry- 
sosTOM.,  Horn.  xl..  in  1  Cor.  xv.,  29.  p.  688.  Opera  ed.  Saville.  8  vol. 
fol.     Eton,  1612.  ■ 

0  fisXXcov  x^poToreii',  rag  sv.eii'coi'  ev/as  xnXtt,  tots,  y.ai  avroi  e7riy>?/- 
wt^ovrai,  y.ai  em^ocoaiv,  aite^  laaaiv  oi  /nE/tvi^uti'oi. ;  ov  ya()  §s  ■d'e/uis 
eTti  rmv  a/iv>]Tcov  s^ny.aXvTXTr^v  aTtai'Ta.  lb.  Homil.  xviii.,  in  2  Cor., 
p.  872. 

Avro  tov  fivoTrjniov  croaov  sXsov,  noarje  fiX-avd'omae;  laaaiv  rov 
fiEftvrifjLBvoi.     lb.  Hum.  in  JMatth.  Ixxii. 

Note  X.  "  Quis  ita  hospes  in  Patrum  lectione,  cui  set  ignota  for- 
mula in  mentioue  sacramentorum  potissimum  usu  trita,  loaaiv  ot 
fiefiv?]fievoi,  norunt  Initiad  quod  dicilur  ?  Qute  formula  in  uniiis 
Chrysostomi  Homiliis  aut  aliis  scriptis  minimum  quinquaginta  locis 
potest  observari ;  apud  Augustinum  non  multo  varius."  Casaubon, 
de  Rebus  Sacris  el  Ecclesiaaticis,  xvi..  p.  556,  fol.     Lond.,  1614. 

Note  Y.  la^vos  §e  Xiav  sari  y.ai  /Sa&vg  o  st/  avrco  Xoyog,  y.ai  t«s 
rcov  TtXavcofirivmv  Siayovias  ovy.  aXioaifior  Iva  ravrrjv  f.ir]  sis  rag  tio 
afivrjTcov  Ey.fEQCov  ay.oag  t«  y.Ey.QVfifUva,  7touoy(iovaaifiai  XEyovTi  no 
Xoiaro'  Mr]  Sanr]  xa  ayia  roig  rvoi,  f/rjds  /3aXTr]rs  roig  /.laqyaqiiag 
vftcov  EjiiTi^oad'Ev  tiov  xoiocov.  Cyril  Alexandr.,  torn,  vi.,  p.  247, 
ed.  MiLLES,  fol.     Oxou.,  1703. 

Note  Z.  Ov  y^Qq  aacfiog  evtzeiV  Eiy.og  ya^  rivag  afivsrovg  naQsivai: 
oiviyuarcoScog  77  anoy^ioig  egtm.      Thkodoret.,  dial.  ii. 

A^io  8e  /j,voTiy.cor£Qov  aTtoy.Qivaad'ai'  zivas  ya^  lacog  a/ivrjzai  Tta^E- 
azTj-ycaaiv.     lb.  dial.  i. 

Note  AA.  In  the  fifth  chapter  of  his  Hierarchy,  Dionysius  dis- 
tinguishes the  tradition  of  the  sacrament  into  three  grades,  y.a&a^aig, 
purification  ;  fivrjaig,  initiation ;  and  tEXEicoaig,  accomplishment ;  and 
mentions  the  ceremony  also  BTioxpsia,  bringing  to  sight. 

There  have  been  several  editions  of  the  works  of  Dionysius  Areo- 
pagita.     The  best  is  that  printed  at  Venice,  in  2  vols,  fol.,  1755-6. 

The  learned  Casaubon  styles  him,  "  Scriptcr  sane  antiquissimus  et 
elegantissimus."     In  Exercit.  xvi.,  p.  565. 


"NUBES    TESTIUM. 


FATHERS    AND    EARLY    WRITERS    OF    THE    CHURCH    CITED 
OR    REFERRED    TO. 

Aechelaus,  Bishop  of  Mesopotamia,  flourished  278. 

Athanasius,  Bishop  of  Alexandria,  forty-six  years,  from  330  to 
375,  when  he  died. 

Augustine,  Bishop  of  Hyppo,  in  Africa,  flourished  in  the  latter 
part  of  the  fourth  century. 

Basil,  Archbishop  of  Cesaria,  b.  326,  d.  379. 

Chrysostom,  Bishop  of  Constantinople,  b.  354,  d.  407. 

Clement,  of  Alexandria,  flourished  at  the  end  of  the  second  and 
beginning  of  the  third  century,  before  218. 

Clement,  of  Eome,  a  contemporary  of  the  Apostles,  Bishop  of 
that  see  nine  years,  from  93  to  102. 

Cyprian,  Bishop  of  Carthage,  d.  258. 

Cyril,  of  Alexandria,  d.  444. 

Cyril,  of  Jerusalem,  d.  386. 

DiONYSius  Areopagita. 

Epiphanius,  Bishop  of  Salamis,  in  Cyprus,  d.  403. 

EusEBius,  Bishop  of  Csesarea,  m  Palestine,  author  of  the  Ecclesi- 
astical History,  from  the  birth  of  Christ  to  the  reign  of  Constantino 
the  Great.  He  died  in  the  time  of  Constantine  the  Younger.  B.  270, 
d.  339. 

GrREGORY  Nazianzen,  Bishop  of  Nazianzum,  in  Cappadocia,  b. 
324,  d.  389. 

Ignatius,  Bishop  of  Antioch,  disciple  of  St.  John,  the  Apostle  and 
EvangeUst,  died  by  martyrdom  in  108. 

MiNTJCius  Felix,  a  Roman  orator,  210. 

OriGen,  Minister  at  Csesarea,  in  Palestine,  b.  185,  d.  254. 

Tertullian,  a  Presbyter  of  Carthage,  d.  about  216. 

Theodoret,  Ecclesiastical  Historian,  and  Bishop  of  Cyzdcus,  in 
Syria,  b.  386,  d.  about  420. 


REMARK, 


After  the  preceding  pages  were  written,  they  were  shown  to  a 
friend,  who,  being  a  Royal  Arch  Mason,  expressed  a  wish  that  I 
had  exhibited  some  information  respecting  that  department  of  the 
Institution;  believing  that  it  was  ancient,  while  he  admitted  that 
other  degrees,  most  of  which  bore  the  title  of  "  Knights,"  were 
modern  chivalric  appendages.  To  gratify  him,  and  inform  others,  I 
have  collected  the  particulars  which  follow. 


SECRET 


THE     EOYAL    ARCH 


When,  in  the  fourth  century,  those  Christian  mission- 
aries, who  had  undertaken  to  build  churches  in  various 
parts  of  the  world,  turned  their  attention  more  directly 
to  the  structure  of  the  fabric,  they  employed  in  that 
business  those  who  had  been  regularly  taught  both  the 
theory  and  practice  of  architecture ;  and,  though  they 
might  occasionally  labour  with  them,  engaged,  princi- 
pally, as  superintendents  of  the  work.  And  it  has 
always  been  the  case,  that  in  the  erection  of  sacred 
edifices,  more  particularly  cathedrals,  the  undertaking 
was  contracted  for,  and  carried  on,  under  the  direction 
of  Wardens  ;  the  Bishop  being  looked  up  to  for  counsel, 
encouragement,  approbation,  and  blessing.^  About  the 
more  humble  and  preparatory  arrangement,  such  as 
digging  for  the  foundation,  getting  out  stone  from  the 
quarry,  or  preparing  the  mortar,  coimnon  labourers  were 
employed;  but  those  to  whom  was  assigned  the  bringing 
rude  ashlars  into  form,  squaring  the  quoins,  erecting  the 
edifice,  must  he  professed  Christians;  and  these,  though 
under  the  direction  of  the  Fellows  of  the  original  insti- 
tution, yet,  as  being  operative  workmen  had  their  own 
regulations  for  those  they  employed.  From  among  the 
master  workmen  were  appointed  some  to  attend  to  the 
construction  of  the  Arch,  on  which  the  strength  and 
beauty  of  the  edifice  much  depended  ;  to  the  forming  of 
the  altar,  and  to  what  might  be  considered  the  more 
sacred  parts  of  the  structure ;  and  in  general  to  the 
finishing  of  the  building.  Without  stating  further 
particulars,  my  present  design  is  to  give  some  infor- 
mation respecting  the  association,  or  Chapter,  for  the 

'  See  Appendix,  Note  I. 


32 

Arch.  ^The  accuracy  with  which  the  arch  must  be  formed, 
the  symmetry  of  its  structure,  the  exact  adaptation  of 
the  key-stone,  and  its  insertion  and  fitting  in,  so  as  to 
perfect  the  construction,  was  a  very  nice  business. 
Only  the  well-informed  and  the  skilful  were  employed 
upon  it.  The  form  or  turn  of  the  arch  which  was 
adopted,  and  has  ever  since  been  peculiar  to  ecclesias- 
tical edifices,  is  the  pointed,  or,  as  it  has  been  impro- 
perly called,  "  the  Gothic."^  I  say  improperly,  because 
it  is  found  in  the  remains  of  buildings  more  ancient 
than  any  Gothic  structure.  This  being  much  in  the 
shape  of  the  bladder  of  a  fish,  was  called  "  V^esica 
Piscis ;"  and  a  knowledge  of  the  art  of  constructing  it 
was  acquired  but  by  few,  who  were  hence  called 
"Pisciculi."^  They  the  more  readily  adopted  this 
denomination,  because  they  were  followers  of  the 
Apostles,  some  of  whom  were  originally  Jishermen,  and 
heirs  of  that  promise  of  their  Divine  Master,  "  I  will 
make  you  fishers  of  men." 

This  class  of  architects  carried  as  their  tessera,  a  bone 
shaped  in  the  form  of  a  fish,  bearing  on  it  the  letters 
ixeyi.  When  sojourners,  and  seeking  employ,  this 
became  the  token  of  their  profession,  and  means  of 
introduction  to  others  of  the  craft,  to  whom  they  were 
personally  strangers.  The  mode  of  introduction  was, 
first,  by  producing  the  tessera,  (which,  when  afterwards 
made  of  gold  or  silver,  was  called  "  a  jewel,"  and  by 
intermutual  question  and  answer,  lettering  and  explain- 
ing the  import  of  each  letter  ;  h^  i,.lllEori ;  X,.XPIZTOi ; 
e,-0EOT;  T,-TI0I ;  l.-EOTHP  Jesus  Christ  ;  the  Son  of 
God;  the  Saviour.'^ 

Such  is  the  origin  of  the  Royal  Arch  Chapter  of 
Masonry.  It  obtained  the  title  "Royal,"  because  the 
arch  was  sanctioned  and  approved  by  the  emperors  and 
kings,  who  were  "  the  nursing  fathers  of  the  church  :" 
and  the  term  "Chapter,"  serves  to  indicate  its  ecclesi- 
astical source. 

For  my  authorities,  I  direct  my  reader  to    the   Ap- 

^  See  Appendix,  Note  II. 

^  Optatus,  con.  Parm.  lib.  iii.,  p.  62.  CURIL  Alex.,  lib.  ix.,, 
in  Job.  Inst.  Theodoret,  Ep.  76,  p.  994.  See  also  Appendix, 
Note  III. 

*  See  Appendix,  Note  IV. 


33 

pendix,  where  they  are  quoted  largely.  As  my  purpose, 
in  what  is  here  put  together,  has  merely  been  to  draw 
from  ancient  church  history  certain  overlooked  references, 
as  I  conceive,  to  a  fraternity  once  in  much  repute, 
I  have  not  indulged  in  any  comments,  nor  pretended  to 
undertake  any  defence  of  the  institution  against  the 
censures  and  denunciations  gone  and  going  forth  against 
it.  I  am,  however,  aware  that  these  pages  will  be 
thought  too  learned  for  the  information  of  common 
readers,  though  I  have  aimed  to  make  them  intelligible, 
particularly  by  translating  the  quotations  from  the 
fathers,  and  by  transferring  the  literary  illustrations  to 
the  Appendix  :  but  "  whoso  is  wise,  he  shall  understand 
these  things  ;  prudent,  and  he  shall  know  them  ;" — the 
unwise  will  not  be  instructed,  nor  the  imprudent  led  to 
renounce  their  errors. 


APPENDIX. 


Note  I.  The  contracts  for  the  erection  of  the  vaulting  of  the 
King's  College  Chapel,  Cambi'idge,  are  in  an  account  of  the  Chapel 
of  Walden,  and  in  Anecdotes  of  Paintings  by  Walpole,  vol.  i. 
appendix,  3d  edition.  In  Dugdale's  Monasticon,  vol.  iii.  p.  162,  is 
an  agreement  between  the  Commissioners  of  the  Duke  of  York  and 
William  Harwood,  Freemason,  for  the  rebuilding  of  the  Chapel 
in  the  College  of  Fotheringhay,  Northamptonshire  ;  and  in  AsH- 
MOLE's  History  of  the  Garter,  p.  120,  is  an  agreement  with  Hylmer 
and  Vertue,  Freemasons,  for  the  building  of  the  Choir  of  St. 
George's  Chapel,  Windsor. 

The  references  in  this  note,  though  of  a  later  date  than  the  text 
to  which  they  are  appended,  are  referred  to  as  notices  of  the  man- 
ner in  which  such  contracts  were  made.  For  more  particulars,  see 
Observations  on  Vaults,  by  Samuel  Ware,  Esq.,  communicated  to  the 
Society  of  Antiquaries.,  London;  and  published  in  the  Archizologia, 
vol.  xvii.  p.  83. 

Note  II.  A  remarkable  remain  at  St.  Jean  d'Acre,  the  ancient 
Ptolemais  of  Syria,  is  represented  by  Le  Brun,  Voyage  au  Levant, 
plate  164,  p.  313 ;  and  is  also  mentioned  by  Dr.  PocOCKE,  in  his 
Description  of  the  East,  vol.  ii.  part  1.  p  53.  The  building  is  deci- 
dedly in  the  Gothic  manner,  as  are  also  several  buildings  mentioned 
by  him  at  Cyprus,  p.  215,  216 ;  and  one  m  that  island  is  repre- 
sented by  Casas,  Voyage  Pittoresque  de  la  Syrie,  tom.  iii.  p  104. 
Other  Gothic  structures  in  Egypt  and  Syi'ia  are  mentioned  by  Dr. 
PocoCKE,  vol.  i.  p.  75;  vol.  ii.  part  1.  pp.  4.  101,  122. 

Archfsologia,  vol.  xvii.  p.  29. 

Note  III.  Tertullian  says,  and  after  him  Optatus,  "Nos 
Pisciculi  secundam  ixd-vs  nostrum  Jesum  Christum  in  aqua  nasci- 
mur  ;  nee  ahter  quam  in  aqua  permanendo  salvi  sumus."  Tertul.  de 
Bapt.  c.  1.  See  also  Bingham,  Antiquities  of  the  Christian  Church. 
Vol.  1.  p.  2. 

See  also  "  Observations  on  the  mystererious  figure  called  Vesi- 
ca PisciS,'  in  the  architecture  of  the  middle  ages,''''  by  T.  Ker- 
Rick,  M.  a.,  F.  S.  a.,  in  the  XIX  volume  of  the  Archeeologia,  No. 
xxxvii.  p.  353. 

Note  IV.  In  the  sixteenth  volume  of  the  Archeeologia,  art.  xxxiv. 
are  "  so7ne  observations  on  the  Gothic  buildings  abroad,  particularly 
those  of  Italy  ;  and  on,  Gothic  architecture  in  general,  by  T.  Kerrick, 
M.  A.,  F.  S.  A.,  Principal  Librarian  of  the  University  of  Cam- 
bridge." In  describing  the  construction  of  a  particular  kind  of 
arch,  which  Mr.  Kerrick  says  "was  held  in  peculiar  veneration  by 
Christians /ro??i  very  early  times,"  he  adds,  "  it  appears  to  have  had  a 


36 

mysterious  meaning,  which  I  do  not  i^retend  to  explaha ;  but  I 
believe  a  great  deal  might  be  pointed  out,  as  to  its  influence  upon 
the  forms  of  all  sorts  of  things  which  were  intended  for  sacred  uses. 
Possibly  it  might  have  some  reference  to  the  symboHcal  represent- 
ation of  Christ  under  the  figure  of  a  fish,  the  IX&T^,  which  con- 
tained the  mitials  of  Jrjaovs  X^ioros  Qtov  Tios  Zcovr]().  And  this  is 
the  more  probable,  because  we  are  told  that  it  was  called  '  Vesica 
Piscis.'*  But  however  this  may  be,  and  whatever  ideas  of  sanctity 
might  be  attached  to  the  thmg  itself,  we  may  remai'k,  that  in  the 
paintings,  f  as  well  as  sculptures  of  the  loAver  ages,  we  find  it  almost 
constantly  used  to  circumscribe  the  figure  of  our  Saviour,  wher- 
ever he  is  represented  as  judging  the  world,  and  in  his  glorified 
state,  particularly  over  the  dot)rs  of  Saxon  and  Norman  churches. 
Episcopal  and  conventual  seals,  and  those  of  religious  societies, 
and  of  all  ecclesiastical  officers,  were  universally  of  this  form,  and 
continue  to  be  made  so  to  this  day." — p.  313. 

Comp.  "  Observations  on  the  origin  of  the  j^ointed  Arch  in  Archi- 
tecture," by  Sydney  Smith,  Esq.  No.  xxxv.  vol.  xxi.  p.  521.  "It 
is  highly  probable,"  says  this  author,  p.  583,  "that  the  Free- 
masons, whose  importance  as  a  corporate  body  seems  to  have  been 
established  by  a  Papal  bull  in  the  early  part  of  the  thirteenth  cen- 
tury, counted  many  eastern  workmen  among  their  number.  Thus 
associated  and  exclusively  devoted  to  the  practice  of  Masonry,  it  is 
easy  to  infer  that  a  rapid  improvement  both  in  the  style  and  execu- 
tion of  their  work  would  result.  Forming  a  connected  and  corre- 
sponding society,  and  roving  over  the  different  countries  of  Europe, 
wherever  the  munificent  piety  of  those  ages  promised  employment 
to  their  skill,  it  is  a  probable,  and  even  a  necessary  consequence, 
that  improvements,  by  whomsoever  introduced,  would  quickly 
become  common  to  all ;  and  to  this  cause  we  may  refer  the  simul- 
taneous progress  of  one  style  throughout  Europe,  which  forms  so 
singular  a  phenomenon  in  the  history  of  Architecture." 

In  Malden'S  Account  of  Kingh  College  Chapel,  Cambridge,  Dr. 
Henry's  History,  and  a  Treatise  on.  Masonry,  by  William  Pres- 
ton, some  account  of  the  Freemasons,  as  relating  to  the  subject  of 
building,  msiy  be  found.  They  appear  to  have  been  known  in 
England  about  the  beginning  of  the  seventh  century.  They  are 
said  to  have  introduced  the  art  of  building  in  stone  ;  and  that  the  art 
of  constructing  walls  to  resist  the  thrust  of  a  stone  vault,  was  their 
original  mystery.  It  is  more  reasonable  to  suppose  that  the  art  of 
building  stone  walls  is  as  old  as  stone  quarries,  than  that  this  society 
is  as  ancient  as  Solomon's  Temple.  About  the  beginning  of  the 
fourteenth  century,  the  art  "  de  couper  des  pierres,"  was  still  held  a 
secret,  and  the  professors  of  this  mystery  were  called  the  "Cotterie." 
Maturin  Jousse  called  his  treatise,  from  this  circumstance,  "  Secret 
d' Architecture."  Ware's  Memoir  in  the  Archceologia,  vol  xvii.  p. 
83. 

Finally,     Let  me  request  my  learned  reader,  who  would  pursue 

*  Dureri  Instit.  Geometricarum,  lib.  ii.  p.  56.  He  uses  it  aB  a  name  well 
known,  and  familial-  as  that  of  circle,  triangle,  &c.  "  Designa  circino  invariato 
tres  piscium  vesicas." 

t  See  an  illustration  in  King  Edgar's  book  of  Grants  to  Winchester  Cathedral, 
engraved  by  Strutt  in  his  Royal  and  Ecclesiastical  Antiquities. 


37 

this  development  farther,  and  into  later  times,  to  explore  the  recon- 
dite pages  of  the  following  work  : — 

Liber  secretorum  fidelium  crucis  super  Terree  Sanctee  recuperahone 
et  conservatione.  [Printed  in  the  second  part  of  the  G-esta  Dei  of 
BONGARS.  This  treatise  of  Marinus  Sanutus,  a  Venetian  noble- 
man, was  commenced  in  1306,  and  finished  in  1321.] 


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