The natural curiosity of mankind, always eager and impetuous in the pursuit of knowledge, when disappointed of a rational account of things, is apt to rest upon conjecture, and often embraces a cloud in place of the goddess of truth. So has it fared with the secret of Masonry. That society, though venerable for its antiquity, and respectable for its good behaviour, has, through falsehood and misrepresentation, groundlessly awakened the jealousy of states, and the obloquy of malicious tongues. Their silence and secrecy, as they gave ample room for the most extravagant conjectures, so they likewise afforded an opportunity for the greatest imputations, without fear of a refutation. They have been traduced as atheists and blasphemers, branded as idolaters, and ridiculed as the dupes of nonsense. The hard names, liberally bestowed on thejr secrets by the Seceders, partake of all these; (vid. Scots Magazine, 1755, p. 137.) but their proof relates only to the last; and indeed, it seems rather like the delirious ravings of a brain sick head, inflamed with the fumes of enthusiasm, than a rational design to expose them. Its publication is an affront upon the judgment of the world; no less than inserting it in the Scots Magazine, is an impeachment upon the taste of the readers of that collection. To remove such prejudices, and in some degree to satisfy the world, and inquisitive cavillers, Masons have condescended to publish what opinions they maintained, with respect to the great principles of human action. Their belief in God is founded upon the justest notion of his being and attributes, drawn from the light of nature, assisted by revelation. They never enter into the speculative regions, so much cultivated by divines: What cannot be comprehended in his nature, they leave as incomprehensible. They adore his Infinite Being, and reckon it the perfection of mankind to imitate his communicable perfections. Their duty to their superiors, to their neighbours, and to themselves, are all expressed in a manner the most agreeable to the soundest morality. And when their actions and behaviour, which alone are subject to human observation, and affect human society, are conformable to such principles, no power on earth has a right to inquire further. The Free Mason professes a particular regard to the liberal arts; and he makes no scruple to own, that many of his secrets have a reference to them. From these, just notions of order and proportion are attained, and a true taste of symmetry and beauty is formed. And as the transition from the beauties of the natural to those of the moral species are so easy and apparent, if there is any virtue, if there is any praise, instead of slander and defamation, protection and encouragement ought to be his reward. Men of the greatest power and dignity, the divine and the philosopher, have not been ashamed, in all ages, to own their relation to this society, and to encourage and protect it by their power and influence. But, should this combination terminate in nothing but wickedness and folly, can it be imagined, either that men of honour, wisdom and integrity, would lend their countenance to fraud, and encourage folly, merely to make the world stare? or that an association, resting on so untenable a foundation, would so long have subsisted without the cement of mutual trust and confidence, which result from virtue and consistency alone? The Free Mason, conscious of his integrity, and persuaded of the good tendency of his principles to promote the purposes of virtue and human hap In piness, beholds with contempt the impotent efforts of envy and ignorance, however sanctified the garb, or dignified the title they may assume. his lodge, which he considers as the school of justice, love, and benevolence, he is taught to oppose truth to misrepresentation; good humour and innocent mirth to sourness and grimace, the certain signs of malice and imposture. To attend the importunate calls of his enemies, would be to interrupt his tranquillity; and therefore, wrapt in his own innocence, he despises their impotent attacks, and for the future will disdain to enter the lists with champions so weak and ignorant, so deluded and deluding. M. W. John Dixwell, grand master, presided; assisted by the R. W. and Rev. Brother Eaton, acting as deputy grand master; and the R. W. and Rev. Brothers Green and Richardson, grand chaplains. The introductory prayer was offered by the Rev. Br. a scientific choir of singers added much to the interest of the solemnities.-Centinel. FORTITUDE LODGE, No. 81. AT BROOKLYN (L. 1.) Officers for the present year. Br. John Martin, Senior Warden; Br. John Okey, Tyler; Regular communications on the first and third Monday of every month. PAST MASTERS. Brothers George A. Clussman, William Carpenter, Richard M. Malcom, Daniel Rhodes,* Losee Van Nostrand, Isaac Nichols, Dirck Ammerman,* John Titus, John Harmer,* Garret Duryea, Abraham Van Nostrand, James Boyd, John Hammell. * Deceased. ANTIQUITIES. Green, of Malden; the dedicatory Extracts from old manuscripts and service, by the Rev. Br. Eaton, and the benediction by the Rev. Br. Richardson, of Hingham. An appropriate and eloquent oration was delivered by the R. W. Samuel L. Knapp, Esq. The brethren assembled were numerous and richly arrayed, and the whole scene was impressive. The processions were highly splendid, as were all the regalia of the lodge, and the decorations of the Hall; a description of them would exceed our limits. The execution of the work reflects much taste on the skill and science of Brother Parris, the chief architect. A full band of music, an records in Great Britain. No. I. An old manuscript which was destroyed with many others in 1720, said to have been in the possession of Nicholas Stone, a curious sculptor under Inigo Jones, contains the following particulars: ST. ALBAN loved Masons well, and cherished them much, and made their pay right good; for he gave them iis. per weeke, and iiid. to their cheer; whereas, before that time, in all the land, a Mason had but a penny a day, and his meat, until St. Alban mended itt. And he gott them a charter from the king and his counsell for to hold a general counsell, and gave itt to name Assemblie. Thereat he was himselfe, and did helpe to make Masons, and gave them good charges." No. II. A record of the society, written in the reign of Edward IV, formerly in the possession of the famous Elias Ashmole, founder of the Museum at Oxford, and unfortunately destroyed, with other papers on the subject of Masonry, at the Revolution, gives the following account of the state of Masonry at that period: "Though the ancient records of the Brotherhood in England were many of them destroyed or lost in the wars of the Saxons and Danes, yet king Athelstane (the grandson of king Alfrede the great, a mighty architect,) the first anointed king of England, and who translated 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, and brought with them the charges and regulations of the lodges, preserved since the Roman times; who also prevailed with the king to improve the constitution of the English lodges according to the foreign model, and to increase the wages of working Masons. "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 Athelstane, for the Masons having a correction among themselves (as it was anciently expressed,) or a freedom and power to regulate themselves, to amend what might happen amiss, and to hold a yearly communication and general assembly: "Accordingly prince Edwin summoned all the Masons in the realm to meet him in a congregation at York, who came and composed a general lodge, of which he was grand 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, made a law to preserve and observe the same in all time coming, and ordained good pay for working masons, &c." And he made a book thereof, how the craft was founded: and he himself ordered and commanded that it should be read and tolde when any Mason should be made, and for to give him his charges. And from that day until this time manners of Masons have been kept in that forme, as well as menne might govern. "Furthermore, however, at divers assemblies certain charges have been made and ordained by the best advice of masters and fellowes, as the exigencies of the craft made necessarie." FOR THE MASONIC REGISTER. MASONIC ODE. From the orient realms of morn, Floods of pure effulgent light, To these nether regions borne, Burst on mortals' feeble sight! Order's children rise to view. And the LINE which girt the world. Dark in light's effulgent blaze, Glorious mysteries lie conceal'd, Hid from the world's unconscious gaze, To Masonic eyes revcal'd. Myst'ries which the tide of time, Unobscur'd has borne along; Truths eternal and sublime, Sages' glory, poets' song. All that wisdom can unfold, Whate'er is great, or good, or fair, Kings and princes, sages old, Sought, acquir'd, and treasur'd here. Through the depths of mental night We have been a leading star; 'Tis Masonry unites mankind, One spirit animates the whole. Those domes proclaim the Mason's hand. As passions rough the soul disguise, Their kindest influence we claim.' But they who once our order prove, Will own that we who build so well, With equal energy can love. MISCELLANEOUS. CLAUDINE. AN INTERESTING SWISS TALE. (Concluded from page 264.) During the first days she gained but little, because she was awkward, and took a good deal of time to earn a penny; but she soon became expert, and the work went on well. Claude, intelligent, active, alert, ran all the errands of the quarter. Benjamin, during her absence, sat upon and guarded the stool. If there was a letter to be carried, a box to be removed, or bottles to be conveyed to the cellar, Claude was called in preference to any other. She was the confidant and assistant of all the lazy servants in the neighbourhood, and in the evening often carried home a crown as the gains of the day. This was fully sufficient to support her and Benjamin, who every day increased in stature and in beauty, and became the favourite of all the neighbourhood. This happy life had lasted for more than two years, when one day Claudine and her son being busy in arranging their little stall, with their heads bent towards the ground, they saw a foot appear upon the stool. Claudine took her brush, and without looking at the master of the shoe, immediately began her operation. When the most difficult part was done, she raised her head the brush fell from her hands; she remained immovable; it was Mr. Belton whom she beheld. Little Benjamin, who was not at all affected, took up the brush, and with a feeble hand attempted to finish the work of Claudine, who still remained motionless, with her eyes fixed on Mr. Belton. Mr. Belton asked Claudine, with some surprise, why she stopped; and smiled at the efforts of the child, whose figure pleased him. Claudine, recovering her spirits, excused herself to Mr. Belton with so sweet a voice, and such well chosen words, that the Englishman, still more surprised, asked Claudine several questions about her country and her situation. Claudine answered, with a calm air, that she and her brother were two orphans who gained their bread by the employment which he saw, and that they were from the valley of Chamouny. This name struck Mr. Belton; and looking attentively at Claudine, he thought he recognised her features, and inquired her name. "I am called Claude," said she, " And you are from Chamouny ?" "Yes, sir; from the village of Prieure." "Have you no other brother?" "No, sir; none but Benjamin." "Nor any sister;" "Pardon me, sir." "What is her name?" "Claudine." "Claudine! and where is she?" "Oh, I do not know, indeed, sir." "How can you be ignorant of that?" "For many reasons, sir, which cannot interest you; and which would make we weep to tell." Claudine, with tears starting in her eyes, told him she had done. Mr. Belton put his hand into his pocket, and gave her a guinea. "I cannot change you," said Claudine. "Keep the whole," said Mr. Belton, "and tell me, would you be sorry to quit your present employment, and accept of a good place ?" "That cannot be, sir." "Why not?" "Because nothing in the world would tempt me to quit my brother." "But suppose he were to accompany you?" "That would be another matter." "Well, Claude, you shall go with me; I will take you into my service; you will be very happy in my house; and your brother shail accompany you." "Sir," replied Claudine, a little embarrassed, "favour me with your address, and I will call upon you to-morrow." Mr. Belton gave it her, and bade her not fail to come. It was well for Claudine that the conversation now terminated, for her tears almost suffocated her; she hastened to her chamber, and there shut herself up to reflect on what she ought to do. Her inclination and her affection for Benjamin prompted her to enter into the service of Mr. Belton; but his past treachery, and the promise she had made to the curate of Salenches, never to do any thing which might endanger her virtue, made her hesitate; but the welfare of Benjamin preponderated: she resolved to go to Mr. Belton, to serve him faithfully, to make him cherish his son, but never to tell him who she was. melancholy reflections." Mr. Belton more than ever astonished at the spirit of Claude, desisted from further inquiry; but he conceived a high esteem and a sincere friendship for this extraordinary young man. Claude soon became the favourite of his master; and Benjamin, towards whom Mr. Belton found himself attached by an irresistible impulse, was forever in his chamber. The amiable child, as if conscious that he owed his existence to Mr. Belton, loved him nearly as well as Claudine; and he told him so with such sweet innocence and simplicity, that the Englishman could not do without Benjamin, Claudine wept for joy, but she concealed her tears. But the dissipation of Mr. Belton afflicted the heart of Claudine, and made her fear that the hour of discovery would never arrive. By the death of his parents, Mr. Belton had, at the age of nineteen, been left master of a very large fortune, which he had hitherto employed in wandering over Italy, stopping wherever he found it agreeable to him; that is, wherever he met with agreeable women whom he could deceive and ruin. A lady of the court of Turin, rather advanced in life, but still beautiful, was his present mistress: she was lively, passionate, and very jealous of Mr. Belton. She required that he should sup with her every evening, and write to her every morning. The Englishman did not dare to refuse. Notwithstanding all this, they had many quarrels: for the smallest cause she would weep, tear her hair, seize a knife, and play a thousand fooleries, which began to tire Mr. Belton. Claude saw and felt all this, but she suffered in silence. Mr. Belton gave her every day fresh marks of confidence, and often complained to her of the unpleasant life he led. Claude now and then risked a little advice, half joke and half serious, which Mr. Belton heard This point being settled, the next morning she waited on Mr. Belton, who agreed to give her good wages; and ordered her and her brother clothes immediately. Mr. Belton now wished to renew the conversation of yesterday, and to inquire further concerning her sister. But Claudine interrupted him; "Sir," said she, "my sister is no more; she is dead of misery, chagrin, and repentance. All our family have lamented her unhap-with approbation, and promised to py end; and those who are not our relations, have no right to renew such follow to-morrow; but when to-morrow came, Mr. Belton returned to the Pp |