tution-he who would, with impious hand, dare wrest it from the unfortunate Brother, would be dragging the crutches from the hand of age, and robbing the bereaved of the only solace of their woes.

My Brothers-it is religion that incites us to the love of true wisdom. The wisest king that ever swayed the destinies of Israel, enforced, in all his inspired writings, the supremacy of that inestimable treasure. "Happy," says he, "is the man that findeth wisdom, and the man that getteth understanding-the merchandize of it is better than the merchandize of silver, and the gain thereof than fine gold. She is more precious than rubies, and all things thou canst desire are not to be compared to her." And I ask you, my Brethren, where can you find a wider field for the attainment of this knowledge than in that RECORD which unfolds every step of Masonry, in that book which rules and governs your faith; where, where else, will you meet with the attributes of that God, which can never be pondered on without gratitude-whose beneficence, power, and majesty, fills heaven and earth with wonder, love, and praise? In the unfathomable researches of nature-in the wonders of the mighty deep-in the towering oak, or the bending twigin the dashing cataract, or the placid stream-in the mighty river, or the tranquil lake-these, and many other beauties, are enough, and more than enough, for the contemplative mind; and these are richly disclosed, as we rise in emblematical science, and trace out the hidden treasures of Masonry.

Last, though not least, beams forth, radiant as the sun, bright-beaming CHARITY! This virtue, possessing, as it does, such a wide field, has ever furnished new beauties to descant on. If there be one tear more hallowed than another, it is the tear that falls from the eye of the unfortunate, whose griefs you have assuaged, whose misfortunes you have relieved. If there be one smile that lights up the countenance with more lustre than another, it is the smile which plays on the lip of the woe-worn, pallid sufferer, whose pressing wants you have supplied, whose sorrows you have alleviated. If there be one prayer that ascends with a purer incense to the skies, it is the prayer of the bereaved widow-the fatherless child-the unfortunate man-in behalf of their benefactor.

A wise and philanthropic father of old observed, that "the most beautiful sight in the universe was to see a good, but a poor, man struggling with adversity;” yet, he continued, there was one still more beautiful-the good man who came to relieve him. Yes, my Brothers, the good man who comes to relieve him! And who can tell what groans he hears as he takes his walks through the abodes of wretchedness and misery-where disappointment feeds on hope-where pallid guilt, worn out, leans on the triple head of want, remorse, and despair ;-where cruelty reaches forth a cup of wormwood to the lips of sorrow, that to deeper sorrow wails; where mockery, and disease, and poverty meet miserable age-where the arrowy wind of heaven pierces the naked orphan babe, and chills the mother's heart that has no home; and where, alas! at mid-time of his day, the honest man, robbed by some villain's hand, or with long sickness pale, and paler yet with want and hunger, oft drank bitter draughts of his own tears, and had no bread to eat. Oh, who can tell what sights he saw-what shapes of wretchedness! or who describe what smiles of gratitude illumined the face of woe, whilst from his hand was beneficently given the dispensation of his

bounty. It is this which, in a measure, marks the genuine spirit of this noble virtue. When suffering humanity claims our aid,

Let the hand and heart unite to yield relief

Assuage the widow's bitter pangs, and soothe the orphan's grief.

But, my Brethren, charity stops not here; it is a duty which ought to be dictated by an ardent love to God, and of our fellow-creatures. "The charity or love of a Mason," observes Dr. Oliver, "must be pure in principle and in practice, unwarped by prejudice or passion, unalterable in persecution, unabated amidst calumny, slander, and detraction. Filling the heart with pious fervour and with holy resolutions—from a perishable mortality to a celestial intercourse with the very source and essence of Love; ennobling the nature of man, and raising him to that sublime pitch of excellence which alone can impart true satisfaction under every species of adversity and pain.”

As Masons, we stand (or ought to stand) in an exalted position; let us, therefore, endeavour to maintain it. Let us carry with us, in every pursuit of life, the true spirit of Masonry. Delightful, indeed, would be the fond endearments of home; ecstatic, beyond description, would be all the tender sympathies, emotions, and passions of our nature, were sincerity and truth united. Love would be without dissimulation— friendship without guile. Truth and Justice, unspotted and pure, would dignify, elevate, and ennoble. Innocence, shielded by Virtue, would appal the recreant who would dastardly assail the one, or basely attempt to tarnish the lustre of the other.

Let us proudly stand forth to uphold the character of the Mason. We can fearlessly and conscientiously tell those who would laugh at our Order, that the Mason's secrecy is the test of his sincerity-his Faith is the touchstone of his confidence-his Hope, the foretaste of his anticipation-his Charity, the rapture of his consummation.

If I can, by my feeble efforts, be instrumental in awakening you to that sense of our position as Masons-if I can lead you to heights from which you may, by Faith, gaze on Heaven in perspective-if I can induce you to measure the length of that anticipation in Hope which is life's guiding star-if I can urge you to grasp that width which knows no bounds in Love, or if I can urge you to survey the ample pages of Masonic history, in all the depths of its mysterious emblems-if I can kindle in your breasts that fervour and sincerity which animated the ancient Masons-when God was worshipped-when, whenever you met a Brother, you met a man, a friend, sincere and true, his kind looks foretold a heart as kind within, when his promises were his vows, and his vows were registered in Heaven-if I can do this, then, as a Mason, I shall not have lived in vain. When my last sun is set, when my last expiring moment arrives, like the sun, gilding the surrounding scenery, feebly, yet beautifully darting its last, long gaze, and tipping each cloud with its golden beams, I will close my short career in peace, harmony, and brotherly love; and, when around the "Banquet of Love," some of you think of "days long vanished," memory, memory will treasure, with all a Brother's rhapsody, the rich, the glowing, the eloquent picture of

A TRUE MASON'S LIFE.

TO THE MASONS OF ENGLAND..

A WORD FOR THE ENTHUSIASTS.

THERE is in the Order of Freemasons a class of men who have earned for themselves the name of "the enthusiasts." I am enabled to ascertain the objects of these visionary men, from the yearnings of my own heart having been identified with them. I will, therefore, place my ideas and wishes before you, convinced that they will be found a fair specimen of the opinions of the so-called "enthusiasts;" aspirations which, though they may be deemed extravagant by the lukewarm professor of our mysteries, are none other than the founders of the Order had in view when, in the wisdom of their intellect and the goodness of their heart, they modelled the beautiful science of Freemasonry. I will first assume (and this beautiful doctrine of Masonry is now becoming universally admitted) that a man is responsible to no one but the Deity for his religious opinions. With the relation existing between him and his Maker, with his mode of worship, and belief or disbelief of certain dogmas, we have no right to interfere to coerce the mind which God has created, and from which he will himself demand an account. With the man's actions alone, as affecting others, have we to do ; and, in the great family of man, have a right to demand that as a member of that family he subscribe to certain laws, made for the mutual aid, support, and protection of each other. The first and greatest commandment is, that man love God with his whole heart and all the powers of his soul; and the the second is like unto it, that he love his neighbour as himself. On these two commandments is reared the altar of Free masonry. Who that is conversant with the Order will deny it? Masonry leaves the first-as most fitting-between the creature and his Creator; and for his guidance in the latter, has established a code of morality, so admirably suited to the grand object it has in view, that it is no wonder some attempt to trace it to the mouth of Jehovah, when, in the days of innocence, he walked with man. I glory in my name of " enthusiast!" I glory that it has been my object, from the first moment of my initiation to carry out its beautiful precepts! I glory that it has ever been my aim to raise it from the low level of a convivial meeting, into which it has sunk, to its glorious mission of fraternizing man! I know that by some my humble efforts are deemed Quixotic, by others unnecessary; but so long as there is an abuse (and God knows it is palpable enough), so long do I trust there will be an enthusiast found to combat it, however ineffectually. I remember being told by a Mason—and a clever one too— that Masonry was a pleasant pastime; and I am sorry to think such is the highest value nine-tenths of the Order set upon it. It is made the vehicle of passing a pleasant hour in agreeable company; and forgotten, until time brings round the meeting hour again. Masonry thus prostituted is worse than child's play; it is man wasting the precious hours of life in frivolity and nonsense; for assuredly frivolous and nonsensical are its ceremonies, unless the intention go hand-in-hand with their spirit and meaning. Masonry was instituted to make man upright in his integrity, and dignified in the control of his passions and evil inclinations. Its ceremonies are sacred, as conveying to him the lessons of his duty to himself and his fellow-man. Strip them of this intention and they are

worse than folly; strip the actor in the business of the intention so to apply them, and he is folly's minister, not a Mason. A Mason ought to be a minister of the great God of Charity; pledged to carry out the benevolent intentions of the great Architect of the Universe-the diffusion of fraternal love. He is so pledged. And how does he fulfil it? By giving some ten per cent. of the lodge funds to charity (being so compelled by the constitutions of the Grand Lodge under which he holds his warrant) and the other to festivity. If we must have champagne dinners, et cætera suppers, have them-but do not prostitute Masonry to such purposes. It is this which, like a foul disease, is destroying the very vitals of the Order; it is this which is inundating the Order with mere pleasure-seekers; and no wonder. A premium is held out to the glutton and the wine-bibber. For it is notorious that a regular frequenter of the banquets costs the Lodge double the amount of his subscription. It is against this state of things that the voice of the enthusiast is raised. It may be a feeble voice; it may be an unheeded voice; but it is the indignant cry of honest men, zealous for the honour and integrity of an Order to which they are deeply attached. I would wish to see Masonry a contradiction to the assertion, that in England nothing can he done without a dinner. I would wish to see the fact of a man's being a member of a Mason's Lodge, a guarantee to the world of his integrity and virtue. Why is it not so? Because the Lodge is turned from a school of morality, into a mere mimic representation of virtue. Because its holy ground has been desecrated by the feet of the worshippers of the world. Because Virtue, Honour, Temperance, and Justice have been expelled by Lewdness, Pride, and the Appetite. In a word, because men have been admitted into the Order, to whom the spirit of the institution was foolishness; and who by little and little have perverted its glorious intentions, and discharged its rich streams of charity into the pockets of the tavernkeeper. I do not deny that good flows from the Order, even as at present managed, but the good is not seasoned with charity; the good (when compared with the immense resources of the Order, composed as it is of men well-to-do in the world, and thousands and thousands of immense wealth) is insignificant; whereas it ought to flow forth a mighty current, pouring its healing waters (wine if you will) wherever suffering needed sympathy, or misery a friend. Is it too much to expect this? What, then, is Masonry? Why do men from the world enter through its portals, and approach its altar of love? Why, if they find its mission too spiritual, do they not return! Most assuredly thousands would do so-and would to God they did!—had not the demon of mischief converted the altar of love into the table of feasting. This it is that stays their returning footsteps, and retains them, as mildewed ears, to blight the hopefui harvest of charity. Perhaps the ranks of Masonry would be thinned, were Lodges what they should be; but then the test of an Order should be its usefulness, and not its numbers. I even doubt whether the restoration of the Order to its legitimate uses would have the effect of permanently reducing its numbers. Hundreds, judging it by its fruits, forbear joining it; and hundreds who join it with a pure intention quit it, when they perceive that they can do better with their annual subscription than giving it as a donation for sundry feastings. Masonry exhibited in its true light, (and not through the medium of the knife-and-forkers), would swell its ranks by enlisting the one and retaining the other; and never will its pure light fulfil its high mission so long as it throws its beams through

the vapours of savoury dishes, to be reflected back from hosts of decantered spirits. Surely the enthusiasts are not to blame for looking for the fruits of Masonry among its members. They have a right to expect to find them, and are justified in their condemnation of abuses, which they perceive make the Masonic havest meagre and profitless. The grand desideratum is to weed the tares from the wheat, without ruining both. Happily the Masonic tares have legs, and if the goodly dishes and their accompaniments were removed, the tares would quietly disappear. A Lodge of emergency, without a banquet, generally shows how matters stand. In a Lodge of seventy or eighty members you may perhaps muster nine or ten, which number may be considered as the real working Masons; and what can such a minority effect in the way of reform? Let the enthusiasts league together, and endeavour to open three or four lodges, with the determination to carry out the true principles of the Order-Brotherly Love, Relief, and Truth. Let them not be discouraged by the paucity of their numbers. A dozen such can and will do more good than many Lodges a hundred strong, as at present conducted. Let not their boast be, that they have initiated so many in the year; but that they have, to the utmost of their power, fulfilled their obligation, and shown to the world that the term "Masonry" is but another name for virtue. These are the aspirations of the enthusiasts, and I am certain all good men will cry "God speed them."

CATO.

ADDRESS OF MAJOR-GENERAL COOKE

AT THE BANQUET TENDERED HIM AT BLACKWALL, JULY 20, 1847, BY THE MEMBERS OF ST. PAUL S LODGE, NO. 229.

Brethren,-Embarrassed, as I may be, by the position in which I am placed, how best to reciprocate the handsome compliment presented this day to my notice, and to convey a perfect sense of what I feel on the occasion, I am nevertheless encouraged by an assurance that all those who support me on the right as well as on the left, will, while giving feeble utterance to an humble expression of my thankfulness, be as indulgent as they have been at all times courteous.

I have met you this day, not however without due reflection and mature deliberation, to receive a re-assurance of your esteem and respect; not because I have not been already satisfied of your fraternal sympathies towards a stranger among strangers, but, though adverse to demonstrations like the present one, manifesting what I have long since known you have both felt and intended, because it was from your own introduction that I here first entered the field of Masonry; the kind manner of that introduction, coupled with the excellent precepts imbibed on that occasion, that first conveyed to my mind any clear practical idea of usefulness, especially in this peculiar sphere, and because I felt it was but an act of common justice as well as of common gratitude that, waiving all other secular engagements, I should not deny you that pleasure which to-day I trust you fully and satisfactorily realize.

Having, therefore, fixed upon your own time to receive me once more among you, prior to my return to my trans-atlantic home, and to express, what I am pleased to hear, that you appreciate my humble

VOL. V.

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