MAGLJSheppard

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JOHN H SHEPPARD 1789-1873


BIOGRAPHY

From Moore's Freemason's Monthly, Vol. XXXI, No. 10, August 1872, Page 294:

Our Brother the venerable and distinguished R. W. John H. Sheppard,—recently the Librarian of the New England Historico-Genealogical Society — is now in his sixtieth year of masonic fellowship, having been entered as an "Apprentice" in Lincoln Lodge, Wiscasset, Me., November 16, A. L. 5812; he was also exalted in St. Andrew's Royal Arch Chapter, Boston, October 3, 1818. This long association with the ancient order, unbroken for a single moment in unswerving fidelity to its duties, either by circumstances of domestic or public happening, of itself deserves honorable mention ; but our Brother has further claims in this regard ; he has nobly illustrated his career, social and masonic, in the eye of the community, throughout this remarkable period, by qualities generous, genial, bright, learned, pains-taking, and great intellectuality—dedicating all his gifts, together with his fine acquirements as a man of letters, to philanthropy, with the spirit of love, holy aspiration, and, be it recorded, with martyr-like zeal.

Bro. Sheppard was born in Cirencester, Gloucestershire, England, March 17, 1789. (Julius Caesar walled this town; and for ten miles round traces of the wall are still to be seen.) His father was a merchant, and early in life became a Freemason; his mother, a Londoner, was educated at a Convent in France, and excelled in music; and her accomplishments served to good account, when owing to vicissitudes in fortune and the death of her husband in 1807— at Guadaloupe, where he was buried with masonic honors — she was left with a young family dependent upon her, with the aid of John, her eldest child, the subject of this notice. In 1793, the Sheppards came to America, settling at Hallowell, Me. They were well-bred people, of fine address and elegant manners. These desirable points are an inheritance in the family, and secured at a time of need, the valued friendship of such gentlemen as the Rev. John Sylvester John Gardner D. D.; Hon. Benj. Vaughn, L. L. D.; Gen. Dearborn; Hon. Nathan Weston, a Chief Justice of Maine; Hon. Ruel Williams, and Col. Higginson, Esq., of Boston.

Mr. Sheppard made preliminary preparations at Hallowell academy, entered Harvard College in 1804, retiring in the Junior year, owiug to the death of his father, and immediately began the study of law at Hallowell, in the office of the late Judge Wilde of the S. J. C. of Massachusetts. In 1810 he was admitted to the bar, opening an office in Wiscasset, Me. Devoting sole attention to hie profession, he was engaged, at some.terms of the Court, in every case, on one side or the other, and, as is said of him in his biography in Willis's Courts and Lawyers of Maine," Mr. Sheppard merged for a season his taste for literary pursuits in a struggle for the support of the family dependent upon him. In 1817, he was appointed Register of Probate for Lincoln County, which office he held seventeen years. He was also made a general assignee under the U. S. Bankrupt law, and for more than twenty years was one of the Overseers of Bowdoin College, receiving from that institution the honorary degree of Master of Arts. In 1842 he came to Boston, where he now lives.

Bro Sheppard's tastes are literary; he loves the very atmosphere of the graceful-pursuit. From an early day in the may-time of youth and promise, to these crowned years, well passing the four-score, he has paid court to the shrine of the Muses in delicately expressed effusions too numerous for record here ; some have had wide circulation, but few, after all, have been gathered up as they ought to have been. He shot them, like arrows in the air, with heart-felt emotion, and with a fire that loses not its heat. But for the absolute necessity for exertion in his early career, our friend would have been left the opportunity of setting up monuments in books more enduring than brass. This was denied him; as he says, touchingly, in one of his writings, quoting from Juvenal's Satires— How difficult it. is for one to rise into the beautiful purposes which he aspires to, when beset with stern every day necessities." Notwithstanding all these crosses, in one department of literature his record is full; namely, the masonic : and we have it to say, that, if a list of the ablest and most voluminous writers on Masonic themes should ever be made out, R. W. J. H. Sheppard's name must be prominent in that distinguished roll. As the Hon. Win. Willis, President of the Maine Historical Society, remarks, in the history above alluded to — a notice of Mr. Sheppard would be incomplete if his efforts and his honors as a prominent and leading member of the masonic order should have no place in it. Among the important masonic addresses delivered by Br. Sheppard at intervals covering a period of over half a century, are the following:—

  • An address before Lincoln Lodge, Wiscasset, June 24, 1815.
  • An address at the consecration of the Grand Lodge of the State of Maine, Portland, St. John's day, 1820.
  • A defence of Masonry before Lincoln Lodge, June 24, 1831.
  • Address before Grand Lodge and Chapter of Maine, on the revival of Masonry, June 24, 1844.
  • Address before Aurora Lodge, Fitchburg, June 24, 1846.
  • Address before Columbian Lodge, Boston, at Installation, Jan. 21,1847.
  • Address before Grand Lodge of New Hampshire, June 24, 1853.
  • Address before Washington Lodge, Burlington, Vt. June 24, i860.
  • Oration before the Knights Templars of Maine, on the one hundredth anniversary of the establishment of Masonry in the State of Maine, St. John's day, 1862.

Besides these efforts he has added to the zest of manifold masonic occasions and publications by his odes and historical poems, which will last as long as philanthropy shall prompt human action. In the celebrated memorial-volume of the Lodge of St. Andrew, his contribution in prose and poetry is a striking feature of the permanent value of Mr. Sheppard's literary work.

One of the above orations, Defence of Masonry, brought out a reply from no less a person than John Quincy Adams. This gentleman was at the time a candidate for anti-masonic Governor of Massachusetts, and Mr. Sheppard stated in his oration that John Adams, the father, was a friend to Masonry, had spoken good words of it, etc; at this, the ire of the son was aroused, and he denounced this statement, flying into the newspapers with his denials, &c. Mr. Sheppard, in a word, squelched the "old man eloquent," thoroughly, by quoting John Adams' own words in a letter, at the moment and now, in possession of the Grand Lodge of this State, expressing his respect and friendly regard for Freemasonry. The oration passed through several editions in Boston etc., adding greatly to the reputation and sterling boldness of its author.

MEMORIAL

From Proceedings, Page 1873-77:

The Grand Master announced the decease of R.W. Bro. John H. Sheppard, which occurred on the 25th day of June last.

His funeral was attended at Emmanuel Church in this city, on the 26th day of June. The following representatives of the Grand Lodge were present at the service, which was conducted by Rev. Bro. Thomas R. Lambert, D.D., rector of St. John's Church, Charlestown, and Past Grand Chaplain of this Grand Lodge:—

The Grand Master was absent from the city and could not attend.

The body of our Brother was taken to Wiscasset, Maine, for burial.

The Grand Master appointed R.W. Bros. Charles W. Moore, Winslow Lewis and Charles H. Titus, a committee to prepare a suitable memoir of Brother Sheppard, who subsequently submitted the following report, which was accepted: —

R.W. John H. Sheppard, a permanent and honored member of this Grand Lodge, died at his residence in this city on the 25th day of June last, in the eighty-fifth year of his age.

Brother Sheppard was born in Cirencester, England, March 17, 1789, and came to this country with his parents when but four years old. Landing.at Philadelphia, the family resided there for a short time, but soon after permanently located themselves at Hallowell, in the then district of Maine, where our Brother was educated and fitted for college. His father dying in 1807, he was under the necessity of abandoning his collegiate course of study, and entered the office of the eminent jurist, Hon. Samuel S. Wilde (afterwards Judge of the Supreme Court of Massachusetts), as a student at law; and so rapid was his progress in his professional studies, that in 1810 he was admitted to the bar, and opened an office at Wiscasset, Maine, and was soon after elected Register of Probate for Lincoln County, which office he held for seventeen consecutive years. In 1842 he removed to Boston, where he continued to reside until his death.

Our Brother was an industrious student, of large intellectual capacity, and fine literary taste. As a classical and belles lettres scholar, he filled an enviable place in the walks of literature and learning. He was what is generally understood by the phrase, a "book-worm," and was never more at his ease, or, as he believed, more usefully employed, than when in his private study and among his books. Though a vigorous, clear, and ready writer, his literary productions consist mainly of a very excellent life of Commodore Tucker, occasional addresses, essays, and short poems. These, however, are ample to illustrate his extensive acquirements in the various fields of learning, and his cultivated taste and capacity as a public writer. His labors as the Librarian of the New England Historic- Genealogical Society, his written communications at its meetings, and his contributions to its periodical, are of permanent value, and place his name among the benefactors of that useful and respected Institution.

Brother Sheppard was initiated into Masonry in early life, by Lincoln Lodge, at Wiscasset, of which he was afterwards elected its Worshipful Master. He was made a Royal Arch Mason in St. Andrew's Royal Arch Chapter, of this city, and subsequently received the Orders of Knighthood in the Boston Encampment of Knights Templars. He was an honorary member of St. John's Lodge, of this city, and served this Grand Lodge, as its Corresponding Grand Secretary, from December 14, 1853, to December 10, 1856, when he was elected its Junior Grand Warden.

Such is a very brief and imperfect sketch of the public life, character and services of our deceased Brother. But no sketch of him would be perfect, or do justice to his memory, that should fail to make at least a brief mention of his other and higher life, — his Christian character, his Masonic fidelity, and the purity of heart which distinguished and marked all his social relations. He was a communicant of the Episcopal Church, and was for many years a Warden of St. Stephen's Chapel in this city, under the Rectorship of our venerable Brother, the Rev. Dr. E. M. P. Wells. In the faith of that church he lived, and in a firm belief of a future realization of the truth of its teachings, he died — a good, pure, and upright Christian Brother.

As a Mason, his life and eminent services, when the institution was on its severest trial, commend his memory to the gratitude and honor of his Brethren. Next to his religion, his Masonry was the idol of his affections, and the source of his moral and social enjoyments. Few Brethren were better versed in its mysteries, or learned in its history, and fewer still more accurately appreciated its beauties, or the magnitude of its influence in assuaging the asperities of the heart, and smoothing the rough ways of life. And it is right and proper, and a fraternal duty, to place this testimony to his uprightness and integrity, on the records of this Grand Lodge, not only as a tribute to his own worth, but as an encouragement and example to the living.

Voted, That a copy of the foregoing be transmitted to his surviving relatives, with the warmest sympathies of his Masonic Brethren in the great and irreparable loss they have sustained in his death.

CHARLES W. MOORE,
WINSLOW LEWIS,
CHARLES H. TITUS,
Committee.

From Moore's Freemason's Monthly, Vol. XXXII, No. 8, August 1873, Page 242:

(By W. Bro. Hamilton Willis, of St. Andrew's Lodge.)

At an early hour on Wednesday, June 25, in this city, there passed away one of the oldest Masons in the United States, one of that glorious few yet remaining, whom the Fraternity delighted to honor, who by their talents, judgment, together with unflinching earnestness, carried Freemasonry triumphantly through the battle ordeal of nearly two generations ago. Our late friend and brother, John H. Sheppard, was born in Cirencester, England, March 17, 1789, and died — having outlived nearly all his kindred — as above stated, in the eighty-fifth year of his age, after a sickness of a few weeks. The tender offices of the Boston brethren comforted him to the last. A funeral service attended by Grand Lodge officers was performed at Emmanuel Church, from whence the remains were taken to Wiscasset, Maine, where Lincoln Lodge, in which the deceased had received his degrees, were in attendance for the final obsequies, which were done in a full and appropriate manner.

For the past thirty years Bro. Sheppard has lived in Boston, holding membership in St. John's Lodge. He was a zealous Mason; his heart was in the Order; he had drank deep at the well-springs of its great principles; he understood them, loved them, exemplifying them in his daily walk and conversation ; besides, with more than common ability, aided by an extensive acquaintance with polite learning, historic and centenarian research, ever with Freemasonry fresh in mind, he contributed both in poetry and in prose writing largely to its literature. We recall few whose pen has been more constantly, for sixty years, at the service of the Fraternity, than that of R. W. John H. Sheppard. A number of these performances, in the line of addresses, letters, speeches and poems are long, displaying intellectual vigor, imaginative power, dignity with delicacy of style, will be ever valuable as standard Masonic reading. But other thoughts crowd upon us. We would rather at this moment announce, as we have, in general, the field of the deceased's labors, and pass to a beautiful feature in his character which must claim our regard : namely, his consecration of himself to Masonry, together with the possession, with his whole soul, of its principles, which he gladly welcomed. How many there are in this community who will instantly remember, as they stopped this venerable brother on the street, in season or out of season, on some Masonic purpose, with what alacrity, with what heartiness, ho would listen, hearkening contentedly to the relation ; then, kindling with eager interest for the fullest response, oftentimes with enthusiasm, as though the matter were of dearest personal concern, he would pour forth with all the intensity of youth, entering as it were boldly into it, reanimating the subject with his own quickening spirit; often, as the case might be, either responding to the full, aye, to more than was expected, or adding or illustrating with breadth of acquaintance, a measure of knowledge, in the history of " the art" that was surprising.

Mr. Sheppard came to Boston an old man, already having lived a long, stirring, useful Masonic career in Maine; yet, where many retire early to the upper seats "in the East," to enjoy the kindly respect, the tender greetings of "the workmen on the floor," he chose to be verily at work. How truthfully, indeed, might we have added to the above description, that a brother never parted from such an interview with him, without also an offer of his co-operation personally, in any worthy undertaking for the glory of the Order, which his voice or pen could serve. Masonic work, and labor in behalf thereof, were at once his delight, his refreshment. Each new suggestion, every epoch, bade him rise to the occasion with the ardor of a very neophyte. How sublime too his ecstacies at every new discovery from ancient lore, or positive development in the attributes of Freemasonry, — then the graceful embodiment in form of the new light would prompt the ready pen to an outpouring in prose or verse, adorning his subject in felicitous imagery, drawn from his gleaning in literary fields. The reflection is a most grateful one, that as age advanced with those bereavements, absence of kindred and infirmities which overtake old age, together with, in this case, long years of loneliness, as it were, in the world, with a cup of sorrow full too in life's experience, Bro. Sheppard found sympathy and loved perennial associations in the bosom of his beloved Order; within or without its asylums, all intercourse was a charming solace to his spirit. There are moments in life when neither congenial occupation nor intellectual resources will fill the gap, giving repose to the troubled feelings; when any man, however stout-hearted, but far more a lonely one, well forward in the Pilgrimage, will feel a sense of solitariness amid the never so varied scenes around him. It was at such times that Freemasonry came near to our brother as a tender boon, even with no one nigh; his great familiarity with its capacities, the overflowing, loving kindness of its whole system, its far-reaching record and wonderful story, made for him an instant diver
sion—or, seeking its hospitable roofs, where a hearty welcome greeted
 him, he was sure to encounter those renewals of friendship, that cheering intercourse which stood him instead of kith and kin. Verily our late venerable friend was a touching example of what the cunning workmanship of Masonry can do to restore strength to the stricken soul. Shall we not add the remark, that, when a brother of the attainments of R. W. John H. Sheppard could find so much that was needful to his
peace of mind in the Order, does it not behoove the Craftsmen in every
i portion of life to heed faithfully its work, its lessons, its ritual?

It remains for us to speak of the career of the deceased. The facts we gather from a memoir of him in "Willis's History of the Courts and Lawyers of Maine." When Bro. Sheppard was four years old his
I family quitted England for Philadelphia, subsequently settling at Hal- lowell, Maine. In 1807 his father died, leaving a widow and eight
children, of whom he was the eldest, a dependent family. The Sheppards were well-bred, and found valued friends. The mother was accomplished in music, teaching it in Portland under the patronage of Chief Justice Mellen. Hon. Benj. Yaughan, Rev. John S. J. Gardner, D. D., the distinguished Judge Wilde—with whom he studied law — and Geo. Higginson, Esq., among others, were friends indeed to the family. Bro. Sheppard was graduated at Harvard College, and in 1810 was admitted to the bar, opening an office at Wiscasset, Me. For seventeen years he was Register of Probate for Lincoln county. In 1842 he removed to Boston; in 1854 he was chosen to the Massachusetts legislature. The Boston Journal, in a notice of him on this occasion, says: "He was never a politician; his days and nights are mainly devoted to literature ; he is a fine linguist." It may be added to this, that he commenced the study of German in his seventy filth year. For a number of years he was librarian of the " N. E. Historical Genealogical Society." He was twice married.

The memoir from which we derived the above dates, after speaking of Bro. Sheppard's admirable public addresses, with especial encomium upon his conduct in a memorable encounter with John Quincy Adams, rendering also a handsome tribute to his good service in the cause of letters, says, "His labors in the library of the New England Historical Society, and his communications at its meetings, and to its periodical, the Register, are of permanent value, and will place his name among the benefactors of that useful and respected institution."


SPEECHES

AT ST. JOHN'S DAY, FITCHBURG, JUNE 1846

From Moore's Freemason's Monthly, Vol. V, No. 10, August, 1846, p. 309:

In an Address I had the honor to deliver at die Anniversary of St. John, before the Grand Lodge of Maine, two years since, I traced our history through all the vicissitudes of fortune, to King Athelstane, grandson of Alfred the Great, A. D. 926. Nor did I stop there—but by a chain of evidence, the links of which were well rivetted together, I went back to a much earlier period. The investigation cost me the lucubrations of many days, proving that most of the Fathers of the Church were Masons; and the Discipline or the Secret was the result of this research and reading—a fact too little known to the Fraternity, and deserving the elucidation of some abler hand than mine. But it was not my intention, on this occasion, to renew the subject of our antiquity. The recollections of my intercourse with the Brethren, whether in the Lodge, Chapter or Encampment of Knights Templars, are among the happiest of a life somewhat chequered, and not unacquainted with grief. There is a halo around them, cheering and vivid as the purple light of spring, or the freshness and buoyancy of our boyish days. To share with my Brothers in those social meetings, where the light grew brighter and brighter, as we went on our winding way—to meet them in the Lodge and out of it—at home and abroad, with kindness and cordiality—to know that a warm hand and open heart were not yet lost in the cold selfishness of a money-getting, dollar-adoring world—and to realize that there were those who would drop a tear on my grave, when I am gone, was a source of pleasing reflection. They are sunny spots in the reminiscences of the past Yet these visions are now tinged with some shades of sorrow.

Brethren, my lot was cast in a once flourishing seaport, small in population, rich in refined society, and beautiful for land and water scenery, and the evergreen forests which shaded its distant hills. This spot was blessed with one of the oldest and most influential Lodges in the State. A Royal Arch Chapter, of bright reputation, was also there. The members of these societies, with scarcely an exception, were Masons, who did honor to the cause; some of whom wore men of high bearing in the country, and some of ripe scholarship and superior talents. But of all these Brethren, with whom I often went up to that retreat, where we took sweet counsel together, the far greater part have bid adieu to the scenes of this world! They have gone home. The silver cord has been loosened and the bowl broken at the fountain. If the roll of the workmen should be called, how many would be missing! But their memories, like the fir trees of the North, are fresh and green as ever. When I sometimes visit that romantic spot, and pause on the hill-tops or by the banks of the deep waters, which flow near the dwellings they once cheered, their living likenesses seem to rise before me, and their excellent characters touch my soul with a mournful impression that they are gone! By their lives, they verified the principles of Masonry—by their death, they bore testimony that they endured to the end, and died as they lived, in the faith of the Brotherhood, which holds fast to the resurrection of the dead! And yet, when I sometimes muse upon those days of Aidd long syne, I could say in the words of the original and picturesque Macaulay, "New forms of beauty start at once into existence, and all the burial places of the memory give up their dead."

LAYING THE CORNER-STONE OF THE BUNKER-HILL MONUMENT.

It is now more than twenty years, since the corner stone of that lofty monument, which looms up on the battle ground of Bunker Hill, was laid. It was on the 17th of June, 1825. The ceremony was performed by John Abbot, Esq. G. M. of the Grand Lodge of Massachusetts, assisted by our illustrious Brother Lafayette, in the midst of more than four thousand Masons, and escorted by some of the choicest soldiery of New England; while a vast multitude of spectators hung round the declivity—a mass represented in the papers of the day, as greatly exceeding one hundred thousand persons. The spectacle was imposing, magnificent, sublime. Fifty years had passed since the battle. It was the jubilee of Freedom. More than forty veterans, the survivors of Bunker Hill, with their sparse, silver locks, waving like a banner over the spot, were there—nearly two hundred soldiers of the Revolutionary army, were there—and our Fraternity was •there—seen and honored of all men. For an Almighty Providence, in the hiding of his power, had not then suffered innocence to be exposed to suspicion, falsehood and persecution. No stormy Petrel was then seen hovering in our sky—no hand breadth cloud, sign of the coming storm, then appeared in our horizon. We stood on elevated ground, in the pride of integrity, and in the sweet consciousness of meaning well and doing good. We looked on the face of Lafayette, and it seemed to shine, as it were, with the setting sunbeams of a glorious life. As we beheld him, we saw the living form of the days of Chivalry—a true picture of intrepid Masonry, ever ready to arm in the defence of humanity—a venerable and beauti¬ ful illustration of a great and good man, and our hearts burned within us. There were many, who met on that hallowed spot; for delegates came from all parts of the land. Brethren came from the lofty hills and valleys of Maine, where summer wears its deepest verdure, and where the white fields of winter delight in the splendor of the Aurora Borealis—they came from the granite fastnesses and sylvan villages of New Hampshire—from the Green Mountains and meandering streams of Vermont—from the sea-beat shores and fertile glebes of Rhode Island, small, but Eden-like in her domain—they came, too, from the shady banks of the Connecticut, of which Barlow wrote one of the finest strains of American minstrelsy—

"No watery glades in richer valleys shine,
Nor drinks the sea a lovelier wave than thine,"—

and they came from other and distant States, on this memorable occasion. Masonry was then in the meridian of its greatness; and it was remarked by one of the R. A. cortege of Maine, who addressed the Grand Master in parting, that " there was a larger number of organized Fraternities on the first battle ground of American Independence, than had ever met together since the completion and dedication of King Solomon's Temple."

Never shall I forget the panorama of that august scene. The season of the year was propitious—a clear and cloudless sky—the sun at high meridian—the ocean air breathing wooingly upon us—the country around redolent of sweets and variegated with a depth of coloring peculiar to our Northern climate—the sky spreading its blue arch over land and water—the place, a spot consecrated to the manes of heroic men, eternized in the memory of millions—and an individual to address us, on whose mighty intellect, and commanding eloquence, both as a statesman and an orator, a nation looked with confidence and pride—all, all, united to give a deep interest and a kind of dramatic sublimity to the celebration. We stood on the ground, where, fifty years before, was first heard the key-note of that Declaration of Independence, whose murmuring echoes stole along the Atlantic shores, from mountain and glen, from city and village, until, reaching the day and the hour of July 4th, 1776, it sounded like the thunder of Heaven, when the Ruler of the world takes to himself his great power, and "the horse and his rider is cast into the sea!"

No, my Brethren, that day, that Olympian festival, cannot be forgotten. Beneath and along the sides of Bunker Hill lay a widely extended town, which had risen like a Phoenix, from the ashes of a conflagration fifty years before,—in front of us were anchored war ships, the pride and bulwark of the country— across the winding waters of Charles river, our enterprising metropolis spread out its riches, as the spires of its churches pointed to Heaven—a wide bay, fleets of merchantmen, verdant islands, and the distant blue of the ocean, appeared in the east, as from " thence we looked toward England"—the land of our pilgrim fathers,—and an amphitheatre of hills, hanging over fields and villages, lined the western horizon—all these points of vision contributed to fill up the ideal painting of the mind, as the eye, revelling in the picturesque, was ravished as it wandered into distance over the heads of the immense crowd.

It was a time of peace, of health, of prosperity. Every circumstance seemed to give a brilliant hue to the imagery, which even now, in all its gorgeous display, rises like the reality, before me. There, sat a venerable band, the lion hearted men of other days, the survivors of the battle, and near them a host of revolution¬ ary patriarchs—here, were glittering rows of fashion and elegance, gathered from the roses and lilies of New England, beautiful as Venus when she rose into life from her native sea—not far off were citizens of rank, and soldiers in their military costume, densely filling the space—and near and around them, on semi-circular seats, sat the various Orders of Masonry, in their superb regalia—the Blue Lodges, the Crimson Chapters, the Red Cross Knights, and the sable Templars. In the rear hung thousands of spectators; and in front, was an elevated stage, where, in the midst of the dignitaries and choice spirits of the land, and with the venerable form of our illustrious visitor Lafayette, at his side, stood Daniel Webster, visible to all, and distinctly heard by the vast assembly which was before him, and even by a large part of that forest of human forms which shadowed the outskirts of the great gathering. With a voice which filled so much of this wide space with its clear and deep toned utterance, he held the breath of thousands, as of one man, while he portrayed the past struggles, the present glory, and the future prospects, of#our Republic. How ravishing were those bursts of eloquence as be spoke under the open sky. His mind embraced a world in its patriotism, and his imagination, touching the central fires of the globe, as it kindled, seemed to shake the firmament. To see him, to hear him, to feel the grasp of such an intellect, is to remember hint forever! He had drank deep of the spirit of 76, and he gave us to drink. Indeed, the whole was a splendid vision—a day of this world's glory—a white mark in the calendar of life. It was a dazzling contrast to that dismal scene, when, June 17, 1775, the sun went down on that hill in blood, and the daughters of Masonry wept over the remains of the immortal Warren!

"Manibus date lilia plenis
Purpureos spargam flores."

Give me the earliest lilies of the spring,
And purple flowers in rich profusion bring.
O'er the green spot, let fragrant memory spread
Perennial blossoms to the honor'd dead,
And while this Stone, by Masons laid,
will tell Where Freedom triumph'd,
and where Warren fell, Its column,
towering up to Heaven, shall be
Th' eternal Landmark of the brave and free!

FULL ADDRESS

ADDRESS
DELIVERED AT FITCHBURG,
BEFORE
AURORA LODGE,
IN PRESENCE OF THE
M. W. GRAND LODGE OF MASSACHUSETTS,
AND
VISITING FRATERNITIES,
ON THE FESTIVAL OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST,
JUNE 24, A. L. 5846.

The question has often been put to me, "Are you a Mason?" My answer has been, I am. "Have not great numbers seceded from your Fraternity?" No. I have known but few instances. They have usually been persons who were either actuated by mercenary views, or by ignorance of the nature and science of Masonry. They saw the light; but not having a single eye, the light that was in them became darkness,-and we have seen how great that darkness was. Again, it has been asked, "Are not your mysteries, tenets and lectures, an obsolete and pompous piece of machinery? Do not the most knowing among you, hold them in derision, like Cicero, when High Priest of the College of Augurs, who laughed in the face of the soothsayers, at the omens from birds and divination from animals?" By no means. We believe that our Institution was founded by the wisest of men, ages ago. We know that it has done much good, and is admirably suited to the wants of man, as a social and moral being. I never saw nor heard of a sincere and honest man, who, having been made a Mason, becoming conversant with the principles and design of the Order, and seeking the good of others, as well as his own, afterwards turned out an apostate, or even spoke lightly of the Brotherhood. We have no such record among us.

Many years have passed, my Brethren, since I became acquainted with Freemasonry. I was then young. I had just entered upon the threshold of busy life; it was at that anxious period, when manhood bids adieu to the parental fireside, and being cast, too often with pityful resources, upon a cold and exclusive world, begins to form plans on the Trestle-board, for weal or for wo. But

"There's a Divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough-hew them how we will,"

and good fortune led me to the Lodge, and introduced me to the inner chambers of the temple. The mysteries were solemn, the emblems Oriental, and each symbol beautifully designed and full of instruction. They were well calculated for the exercise and discipline of the mind. No trifling, nor ludicrous, nor impious ceremonies met my eye. All that I saw or heard, had reference to usages and customs handed down from remote ages; for every thing appertaining to ancient Craft Masonry, bears antiquity on its face. The imaginative mind is here carried back to a Hebrew landscape – to a reign of peace – to a prevalence of the arts – to a wonderful people, the chosen of God – and to a monument of the most splendid architecture the world ever saw. We are in Jerusalem – we stand on Mount Moriah – we see the foundation of a great Temple, laid with noiseless hands. Around us are more than one hundred and fifty thousand workmen, in the sunshine of seven years, wherein no rain fell; we contemplate Solomon, king of Israel superintending the task; and we see, by faith, the Creator of all worlds, looking down from his pavilion of dark waters upon the work which he inspired. By degrees, we see the Temple completed. We are struck with the elegance of the workmanship and the rich tracery and picturesque ornaments of the finish, in this vision of the House of the Lord. It is "garnished with precious stones for beauty," - Lily-work, and net-work, and pomegranate, overlaid with gold - two great cherubims, of olive tree, with outspread wings, facing each other in the oracle - palm trees, open flowers and cherubims carved on the walls, and covered with gold - a molten sea of brass, standing on twelve brazen oxen - two brazen pillars in the porch, thirty-five cubits high, superbly adorned - and within the interior of the whole, a most Holy Place, the Oracle of God, with its golden sacrificial utensils, curtain ed with vails of blue, and purple, and crimson and fine linen, and all wrought by cunning workmen, are parts of the splendid picture. It stands on a lofty height, guarded, as it were, by the "Mountains of God," (to use the sublime Hebrew superlative,) which were round about Jerusalem. With its polished marble walls, aud roof plated with gold, it shines like a burnished tower, too dazzling to look steadfastly upon!

Such is one of the pictures presented to the eye of the mind, as the attentive initiate advances in the Art; and such were the ideal images which were early impressed on the tablet of memory. Every time we met in Lodge, we realized some charm connected with this sublime memorial of the Divine will. Degree after degree only develops more and more of the wondrous beauty of the structure, until its Cape-stone is saluted with a shout of glory. Indeed, the history of the building of King Solomon's Temple, occupies no less than seven chapters in the Holy writ. Each particular of its erection has been preserved and handed down to us, with a minuteness and fidelity, unknown in the annals of ancient architecture.

Every true Mason, therefore, has reason to believe, that the Holy record has reference to something more than the mere dead letter of historic narrative; for the materials, the working-tools, the form, the ornaments, the great building itself, and a multitude of traditionary circumstances connected with it, together with the examples of the three great men, who conducted the work, and the very Book of the Law, which inspired and bears record of that work, have been the foundation of our labors, and the source of instruction in all Lodges, of regular standing. All our emblems are derived from this fountain, and have become moral illustrations of truth. Truth itself is thus rendered more delightsome and impressive; because those metaphysical abstractions in which treatises on Ethics, and even some erudite sermons, so much abound, are thereby avoided. Their value is, therefore, more easily appreciated, and their influence enters more deeply into the heart, than the trite though wholesome maxims of common life; for everything in nature is so reflected in the mind, that we cannot even tlunk, without difficulty, if at all unless by the medium of sensible objects.

There is one remarkable fact touching this subject, which even our ablest opponents cannot account for. It is this: while there is no certain record of the building or design of the imperishable Pyramids of Egypt; while the Parthenon of Athens and the Coliseum of Rome, have even now but a moonlight glory, and in their beautiful ruins are hastening to oblivion; and while even the Temple, which Solomon erected on Mount Moriah, disappeared more than two thousand years ago, and the very land it adorned, is desolate, and the city where it towered, is trodden under the foot of the Ottoman - yet this same Temple, spiritually, as it were, exists in a Society, which claims a descent from the builders of it; and wherever and whenever this Society meets in due form, the materials, the construction, and the building itself, are brought to view, and form the chain which binds the Society together.

Take away all remembrance of the Temple, and you take away Freemasonry from the world. I say this is a remarkable fact. Not all the rites nor ceremonies of the Levitical Law can account for this; for we shed not the blood of bulls, nor of goats in sacrifice. There is a more excellent way; the rainbow of reconciliation now rests upon the Ark of the Covenant; we see the types of the Book of the Law fulfilled and if our hearts only improve these blessings aright, like Aaron's rod, they will bud, and blossom and bring forth fruit in a day. Truly, if Masonry be a recent invention, it must be the creation of some original and surpassing genius among the Fathers of the Church, for far beyond the Middle Ages we can trace np to them our genealogy. A genius which could have invented traditions so probable, contrived a system so complicated and wise, arrayed the whole in a drapery so Oriental and beautiful, and then sealed it with a perpetuity which neither ignorance, treason, nor martyrdom, have been able to destroy-such a genius would be a phenomenon, raising a greater tax on credulity, than all the antiquity we claim.

Soon after my admission into the Lodge, I perceived that Masonry was an enlarged, as well as a sublime study. Standing as I then did, on the hill of science, which Milton so enchantingly describes, I could take a wider view of the rich pleasures and exceeding advantages of knowledge of every kind. I had been a lover of books from my boyhood. I had lived much with the dead of other times. I thought, therefore, that I could judge, in some measure, of the character and value of the Institution. I observed that in the Blue Lodge, and in the Royal Arch and Knighthood degrees, there was comprehended a deep and regular system of training for usefulness here, and happiness in a future life. Yet it requires some application to obtain, and a right frame of spirit to improve, such advantages; for which none ever ought to apply who are not properly qualified, and have not a heart kindly softened to feel for others.

To make myself more perfect, I laid aside every other pursuit of my leisure hours. I neither pondered over scientific problems, nor walked among the Classics in Academic groves, until I was familiar with the degrees, and master of the lectures. I was not discouraged by the apathy of friends, nor daunted by the ridicule of our enemies; for I perceived that ridicule is a much stronger test of courage than of truth. I saw in the archives of Freemasonry, treasures of inestimable value; like the mental riches, buried for centuries beneath the hieroglyphics of Egypt, to which but lately Champollion discovered a key, I beheld in our Institution an intellectual frame-work of great magnificence, teeming with instruction, and adapted, by its gentle and softening power, to bring men together in harmony, to teach them to live in peace, and peculiarly suited to draw the rich and poor, men of high, and men of humble station, a little nearer to each other, in acts of friendly intercourse, than the haughty distinctions in this great world, are apt to produce. Yet each one knows his place, without encroaching on the rights of others, or violating that enclosure, which every man, who respects himself, keeps up around his secret thoughts. I found a well-governed Lodge no resort for revelry; no lounging saloon for trifling; no arena for political or religious strife. It was a calm and peaceful retreat of friendship - a place where the affections would rove among the good and the true, in the memory of by-gone ages - a retired spot, where those who had heretofore, perhaps, lived as strangers to each other in the same city or street, in the same haunt of business or house of worship, could meet on the level, look into each others' welfare, feel for each others joy or sorrow, and go forth into the world upon the square of rectitude, kindlier neighbors and better citizens. The Lodge is a fine school to teach men to live in charity. Our Lectures, too, are not only rich in imagery, and fraught with information, but are peculiar for the simple and elegant style with which they are clothed. Every epithet is appropriate - every word is aptly chosen and vigorous and the rich brevity of diction, is not unworthy the purity of the best English writers.

As I advanced in the Institution, I observed some elementary facts worthy of consideration facts which no enemy can gainsay - no malignant pen obliterate; though prejudice with the snarl, but without the wit of Diogenes, sits by the wayside, in the tub of self-sufficiency, and protests against the light coming there.

1. Whether all the members are or are not religious men, the Institution itself is decidedly religious. It is founded, in theory and practice, on the Holy Bible - that only Book, which contains any certain knowledge of the Divine will,- that Book, which, for hundreds of ages, has been gradually working like leaven on the great mass of human society,- that Book, which begins its moral code with the thunders of the Law and closes in Good News, with a sweeter melody than ever Pythagoras heard, when he listened in the stillness of the starry night, to the music of the spheres,- that Book, which alone of all the libraries in the world, brings life and immortality to light - is our Book,- our ever-present, ever-precious, all-supporting foundation - the immortal groundwork of all true Masonry, in whatever age, in whatever country, it is known or cherished. It is ever open in every true Lodge, and is never shut by any Papal hand from the view of the Brethren.

2. I found that the principles and design of Masonry, were no secrets. They are before the world. You may see them spread out in our Monitors, Magazines, Trestle-Boards, and numerous publications. A Mason holds to no doctrines, to no rules, to no reservations, inconsistent with his duty to his fellow-citizens, allegiance to his country, or piety to God. All our secrets are mere links in that chain of friendship which keeps the Society together, and reserves our sanctuary from annoyance or intrusion.

3. The Institution is republican in the full sense of the term; for the government of every regular Lodge exlub1ts an example of power without tyranny, subordination without servility, universal suffrage, qualification for, and rotation in office and reward of merit. It has a constitution holds to equal laws and equal rights, and teaches to submit to the will of the majority for the good of the whole. Such are the prominent features. It contained in itself and preserved the germ of a Republican government, during the confusion of the Dark Ages - beneath the super-incumbent weight of a cruel, crushing, Feudal System - under the waves of a bloody persecution, which drove it from the hierarchy of the Cowl and Tiara - and through successive dynasties, when royal and baronial struggles desolated the fair land of England - until from the perils of the Revolution, when it dwelt in the tents of the warrior, it came forth with the stars and stripes of Independence united with its regalia, and with as brilliant a host of heroes for its support, as ever fought in the fields of Chivalry. Well may I repeat again and again, the golden words of Washington, which our enemies either forget, or will not choose to remember - it "is founded on the immutable principles of Truth and Justice."

4. Another trait in the Fraternity is Benevolence. But the sun would go down upon my story, ere I had half repeated the well-authenticated anecdotes of the much alms which have been given to the distressed. Nor would I refer to a subject of this kind, upon which Masons are usually silent, unless from a motive always deemed fair - that when principles and character are attacked, we have a right to give our good works in evidence. So true is the remark made by the noble Lafayette, in Boston, "Where Masonry was, there wee liberty and justice." The sword of war has been arrested in the bloody rencontre; the gripe of death relaxed in the day of famine; the door of the dungeon opened and the prisoner let forth; the pennyless Brother raised from despair, and the broken heart cheered with the oil of gladness, as the widow's cruise was failing. Nor ought the fact to be omitted, that the cause of Temperance commenced and flourished in the Lodges, long before the gigantic power of moral persuasion had attracted the attention of the philanthropist, in pulpit or public hall.

5. The Lodge is a place of instruction. To subdue the passions, cultivate the intellect, and learn to be industrious, are parts of the great system of Masonry. The heart, the head, and the hand, are trained for usefulness. Anciently, we are informed, Lodges were schools, where those elements of learning were taught, which are now so universally disseminated in this country, by our excellent provisions for early education. To seek knowledge and improve our faculties, are among the primary objects of our Institution. An accomplished Mason ought to be well versed ~n Geometry, in the science of Architecture, and m the literature of the age. I know the fact, that our Lodges are fine Lyceums to acquire a correct, concise and ready style of extemporaneous speaking. I have seen many whose excellence in this faculty, was acquired in the Masonic hall, where propriety and etiquette are always observed. A taste, too, for reading and improvement, has often been laid there - and what an inestimable blessing! It does not require a collegiate education, however invaluable that may be, to make a scholar, or create genius; for, upon a few fundamental rudiments of common school tuition, all knowledge is built up. On Readmg, Writing, Grammar and Arithmetic, the most profound learning rests; so that on this humble, under-ground basis, self-educated men have risen to the heights of glory. A Shakespeare, a Franklin, a Bowditch, an immortal Washington might be named - and how many more self-taught men of celebrity, offer their bright examples to encourage the sad, neglected, solitary student, without means and without friends and make him thrill with renewed energy to overcome difficulties! Indeed, we have all a rich heritage within us - a world of our own, wonderful, surpassingly wonderful - our own mind. Let us dive into its depths, explore its regions, by study, by meditation, by abstinence,- cherish its vast powers, and remember that the most splendid scenery of nature can be reflected, painted, photographed, not in dark, but in beautiful colors, in the chambers of the memory;- and let us adore the Giver of an intellect, which He only could have inspired, when He gave us a work to do, which is to study and admire His own Almighty works. I would that time would allow me to expatiate upon this rich and favorite subject. Out of the great storehouse of your thoughts, of my thoughts, of the thoughts of all men, who think for themselves, I would bring forward things old and new, The theme is delightful. Read, learn, meditate, and digest the ideas which knowledge has planted within you, and you will find that even Solomon, in all his glory, was not arrayed like the beautiful forms of a pure and cultivated imagination. And to think, too, that when we are emancipated from. this tabernacle of clay, the whole mind will shine out in its clearness and in its immensity - and if only rightly improved and directed here, though it may suffer for a season from neglect, and scorn, and obscurity, yet it will emerge from the clouds of mortality, and, carrying all its improvements with it into a future state, there go on progressively in the light of God's countenance, which will ineffably beam upon it! Why, my Brethren, such a reflection is enough to make us lay up all the knowledge we can of our Creator's works, and cherish this pearl of great price, destined to a glory unfading, and advancing forever and ever!

Such were my views of Masonry years ago. They have never changed. The storm that has since beat upon our heads, has only endeared to my heart the sweet retreat of friendship, where brotherly kindness was never lost sight of. I can with truth say, that I never entered a Lodge without a glow of good feeling, nor left its precincts with any other than the subduing influences of charity. Nor did I ever stand at a Brother's grave, without thinking that the community was a sufferer, with ourselves, by the loss of a valuable member. I have examined the subject in its widest extent; I have surveyed it, as it were, from the pinnacle of the temple - from the Royal Arch, from the Knighthood degrees-and have never yet seen any reason to doubt the integrity, or distrust the utility, of Freemasonry.

My Brethren, you must pardon these personal allusions, as they are the result of my own experience. They may be deemed of some little regard, as the testimony of one who has long been a Mason, who rejoiced in the prosperity of the Art, who stood by it in the day of adversity, and who believes that the Institution is peculiarly suited for the relief of suffering man. Nor is there any principle or practice belonging to the Order, inconsistent with the doctrines or profession of our holy religion. The Jew and the Gentile, it is true, see but partially the light of truth in our Fraternity. It is the Christian only, who enjoys its noon-day effulgence. I have not been hasty nor enthusiastic in forming my opinion on this important subject, and it may derive some value from the evidence of its beneficial tendency, as well as from the investigation, which, with much pains-taking care, I have made on the antiquity and influence of the Order. Some, to my surprise, I must say, have adopted a premature conclusion, that speculative Masonry is of recent date. I cannot think so. I have studied our history and examined our traditions, and have satisfied my own mind that the rudiments, the substratum, or groundwork, of the blue Lodges, are found in the ancient societies in Jerusalem - that Solomon, King of Israel, was the first Grand Master of whom we have any certain account, and that in the vast assemblage of workmen at the Temple, there must have been many Lodges and different Degrees. Otherwise, how could such an immense multitude unite together and work to advantage in one place, at one time, and under one head? A Grand Lodge, therefore, was necessary, and tradition is herein correct. The way and manner of the work, may have gone through many changes; for what on earth does not change in the long, dark stream of centuries? Yet, the substance is unchanged. The ancient Landmarks have been preserved, and the essentials have remamed unmutable as Truth itself.

In an address I had the honor to deliver at the Anniversary of St. John, before the Grand Lodge of Maine, two years since, I traced our history through all the vicissitudes of fortune, to king Athelstane grandson of Alfred the Great, A. D. 926. Nor did I stop there - but by a chain of evidence, the links of which were well riveted together, I went back to a much earlier period. The investigation cost me the lucubrations of many days, proving that most of the Fathers of the Church were Masons; and the Discipline of the Secret was the result of this research and reading - a fact too little known to the Fraternity, and deserving the elucidation of some abler hand than mine.

But it was not my intention, on this occasion, to renew the subject of our antiquity. The recollections of my intercourse with the Brethren, whether in the Lodge, Chapter or Encampment of Knights Templars, are among the happiest of a life somewhat chequered, and not unacquainted with grief There is a halo around them, cheering and vivid as the purple light of Spring, or the freshness and buoyancy of our boyish days. To share with my Brothers in those social meetings where the light grew brighter and brighter, as we went on our winding way - to meet them in the Lodge and out of it - at home and abroad, with kindness and cordiality,- to know that a warm hand and open heart were not yet lost in the cold selfishness of money-getting, dollar-adoring world - and to realize that there were those who would drop a tear on my grave when I am gone, was a source of pleasing reflection. They are sunny spots in the reminiscences of the past. yet these visions are now tinged with some shades of sorrow.

Brethren, my lot was cast in a once flourishing seaport, small in population, rich in refined society, and beautiful for land and water scenery, and the ever-green forests which shaded its distant hills. This spot was blessed with one of the oldest and most influential Lodges in the State. A Royal Arch Chapter of bright reputation was also there. The members of these Societies, with scarcely an exception, were Masons who did honor to the cause; some of whom were men of high learning in the country, and some of ripe scholarship and superior talents. But of all these Brethren with whom I often went up to that retreat where we took sweet counsel together, the far greater part have bid adieu to the scenes of this world! They have gone home. The silver cord has been loosed, and the bowl broken at the fountain. If the roll of the workmen should be called, how would many would be missing? But their memories, like the fir-trees of the North, are fresh and green as ever. When I sometimes visit that romantic spot, and pause on the hill-tops, or by the banks of the deep waters, which flow near the dwellings they once cheered, their living likenesses seem to rise before me, and their excellent characters touch my soul with the mournful impression that they are gone. By their lives, they verified the principles of Masonry,- by their death, they bore testimony that they endured to the end, and died as they lived, in the faith of the Brotherhood, which holds fast to the resurrection of the dead!

And yet, when I sometimes muse upon those days of auld lang syne, I could say, in the words of the original and picturesque Macaulay, "New forms of beauty start at once into existence, and all the burial-places of the memory give up their dead." It is now more than twenty years since the corner-stone of that lofty monument which looms up on the battle-ground of Bunker Hill, was laid. It was on the 17th of June, 1825. The ceremony was performed by John Abbot, Esq., Grand Master of the Grand Lodge of Massachusetts, assisted by our illustrious Brother Lafayette, in the midst of more than four thousand Masons, and escorted by some of the choicest soldiery of New England; while a vast multitude of spectators hung round the declivity - a mass represented in the papers of the day, as greatly exceeding one hundred thousand persons. The spectacle was imposing, magnificent, sublime. Fifty years had passed since the battle. It was the jubilee of Freedom. More than forty veterans, the survivors of Bunker Hill, with their sparse, silver locks, waving like a banner over the spot, were there. Nearly two hundred soldiers of the Revolutionary army were there,- and our Fraternity was there - seen and honored of all men. An Almighty Providence, in the hiding of His power, had not then suffered innocence to be exposed to suspicion, falsehood and persecution. No stormy petrel was then seen hovering in our sky - no hand-breadth cloud, sign of the coming storm, then appeared in our horizon. We stood on elevated ground, in the pride of integrity, and in the sweet consciousness of meaning well, and doing good. We looked on the face of Lafayette, and it seemed to shine, as it were, with the setting sunbeams of a glorious life. As we beheld him, we saw the last living form of the days of Chivalry - a true picture of intrepid Masonry, ever ready to arm in the defence of humanity - a venerable and beautiful illustration of a great and good man - and our hearts burned within us.

There were many who met on that hallowed spot; for delegates came from all parts of the land. Brethren came from the lofty hills and valleys of Maine, where summer wears its deepest verdure, and where the white fields of winter delight in the splendor of the Aurora Borealis,- they came from the granite fastnesses and sylvan villages of New Hampshire - from the green mountains; and meandering streams of Vermont - from the seabeat shores and fertile glebes of Rhode Island, small, but Eden-like in her domain - they came, too, from the shady banks of the Connecticut, of which Barlow wrote one of the finest strains of American minstrelsy -

"No watery glades in richer valleys shine,
Nor drinks the sea a lovelier wave than thine;"

and they came from other and distant States, on this memorable occasion. Masonry was then in the meridian of its greatness; and it was remarked by one of the Royal Arch cortege of Maine, who addressed the Grand Master in parting, that "there was a larger number of organized Fraternities on the first battle-ground of American Independence, than had ever met together since the completion and dedication of King Solomon's Temple."

Never shall I forget the panorama of that august scene. The season of the year was propitious: a clear and a cloudless sky - the sun at high meridian - the ocean air breathing wooingly upon us - the country around redolent of sweets and variegated with a depth of coloring peculiar to our Northern climate - the sky spreading its blue arch over land and water - the place, a spot consecrated to the manes of heroic men) eternized in the memory of millions-and an individual to address us, on whose mighty intellect and commanding eloquence, both as a statesman and an orator, a nation looked with confidence and pride,- all, all, united to give a deep interest and a kind of dramatic sublimity to the celebration. We stood on the ground where, fifty years before, was first heard the keynote of that Declaration of Independence, whose murmuring echoes stole along the Atlantic shores, from mountain and glen, from city and village, until, reaching the day and the hour of July 4th, 1776, it sounded like the thunder of Heaven, when the Ruler of the world takes to himself his great power, and "the horse and his rider is cast into the sea."

No, my Brethren, that day, that Olympian festival, can not be forgotten. Beneath and along the sides of Bunker Hill, lay a widely extended town, which had risen, like a Phrnnix, from the ashes of a conflagration fifty years before; in front of us were anchored war-ships, the pride and bulwark of the country; across the winding waters of Charles River, our enterprising metropolis spread out its riches, as the spires of its churches pointed to Heaven;- a wide bay, fleets of merchantmen, verdant islands, and the distant blue of the ocean, appeared in the East, as from "thence we looked towards England"- the land of our Pilgrim Fathers - and an amphitheatre of hills, hanging over fields and villages, lined the western horizon,- all these points of vision contributed to fill up the ideal painting in the mind, as the eye, revelling in the picturesque, was ravished as it wandered into distance over the heads of the immense crowd.

It was a time of peace, of health, of prosperity. Every circumstance seemed to give a brilliant hue to the imagery, which even now, in all its gorgeous display, rises like the reality, before me. There, sat a venerable band, the lion-hearted men of other days, the survivors of the battle, and near them a host of Revolutionary patriarchs : Here, were glittering rows of fashion and elegance, gathered from the roses and lilies of New England, beautiful as Venus when she rose into life from her native sea: not far off were citizens of rank, and soldiers in their military costume, densely filling the space - and near and around them, in semi-circular seats, sat the vanous Orders of Masonry, in their superb regalia - the Blue Lodges, the Crimson Chapters, the Red-cross Kmghts, and the sable Templars. In the rear, hung thousands of spectators; and in front, was an elevated stage where, in the midst of the dignitaries and choice spirits of the land, and with the venerable form of our illustrious visitor, Lafayette; at his side, stood Daniel Webster - visible to all and distinctly heard by the vast assembly which was before him, and even by a large part of that forest of human forms which shadowed the outskirts of the great gathering. With a voice which filled so much of this wide space with its clear and deep-toned utterance, he held the breath of thousands as one man while he portrayed the past struggles, the present glory, and the future prospects of our Republic. How ravishing were those bursts of eloquence, he spoke under the open sky! His mind embraced a world in its patriotism; and his imagination, touching the central fires of the globe, as it kindled, seemed to shake the firmament. To see him, to hear him, to feel the grasp of such an intellect is to remember him forever! He had drank deep of the spirit of '76, and he gave us to drink. Indeed, the whole was a splendid vision - a day of this world's glory - a white mark in the calendar of life. It was a dazzling contrast to that dismal scene, when, June 17, 1775, the sun went down on that hill in blood, and the daughters of Masonry wept over the remains of the immortal Warren!

"Manibus date lilia plenis
Purpureos spargam flores."

Give me the earliest lilies of the Spring,
And purple flowers in rich profusion bring.
O'er the green spot, let fragrant memory spread
Perennial blossoms to the honored dead;
And while this Stone, by Masons laid, will tell
where Freedom triumphed - and where WARREN fell,
Its column, towering up to Heaven, shall be
Th' eternal LANDMARK of the brave and free!

I have dwelt more particularly on this celebration, because Masonry was then honored by all men; and because, only a few more suns and moons shone on our planet, when a change came over our prospects, like the dream of midnight, dark and terrible. Our Fraternity had "increased abundantly and waxed exceedingly mighty; and there arose a new King over Egypt, which knew not Joseph." The origin was obscure - the excitement sudden - the evil electric in its rapidity. Well said the celebrated Fisher Ames, that "a Lie will travel from Georgia to Maine, while Truth is getting up and puttmg on her boots." A crime was reported to have been committed near the waters of the Niagara, by some persons said to belong to a Lodge. Immediately, an attempt was made to fasten the fault on the principles of our Institution, and to implicate the whole Brotherhood. This imputation, so unjust and unnatural, was promptly and universally repudiated. All the members of the Fraternity - our oldest Masons - the Grand Lodges of New York, Rhode Island, Massachusetts - Brethren of great weight of character in the community - and Brethren on whom was the vow of God, and who had given their hearts to the Redeemer,- all and each, with one voice, everywhere, and at all times, protested against this slanderous accusation. They declared that the abduction or murder of any apostate, was a violation of all right, rule and allegiance of the Order. They solemnly averred that we had no such precedent in our history,- that expulsion was the utmost boundary of our penal power,- and that our benevolent Institution was guiltless of the blood of all men. But the most solemn declarations of more than six thousand Masons, with brows as open with honesty, and hearts as warm with charity, as any of our noblest citizens could display, seemed in vain.

There was a rush to make political stock. A faction was organized, of fearful monstrosity. Disappointed ambition was at its head, and an excited populace at its heels. In less than six years, the annihilation of Masonry was systematically undertaken. This was the more strange, because our Institution is composed of representatives from almost all the different classes, sects and parties, in the community. The clergyman, the physician, the counsellor at law, the merchant, the mariner, the yeoman, the artisan, the mechanic, the philosopher, the pious professor, and the man of the world, may be found on our rolls. No party, sect, or class, could rise up among us, without breaking down our union. A conspiracy, therefore, in a Lodge, against government or religion, would be impossible. We should fall, like Sampson, in the act.

I have no wish on this delightful anniversary, to dwell upon the details of a cabal, which rose suddenly into importance, aimed at every office, honor and emolument, in Church and State, and as suddenly exploded, with an internal combustion. It did us all the mischief it could. For a time, the effect was serious. For ten long years, like an epidemic, it cast a gloom over the prospects of the Fraternity in the United States. But, let it be remembered, this disease of the mind did not pass the great waters; for, at that very period, Freemasonry was in vigorous action in England, under that distinguished Grand Master, the Duke of Sussex; and in Scotland, it shone beneath the star of "the Great Unknown," the renowned Sir Walter Scott. But here, the labors of the Craft had ceased - the Masonic halls were little frequented - some timid Brethren retired from our meetings, and were very still;- and some were ashamed of the white Apron, though it had been worn by Washington, Franklin, Lafayette, and the heroic Warren;- a very few seceded;- and there were cases, but exceedingly uncommon, which made us think that Judas Iscariot with his bag, had come back from his place, to betray innocence and get - an office. During a persecution, some proselytes will be found in every society, who, not having taken root, wither away; and others, whose character, having no stability, the ravenous birds of the air steal and devour. Yet there were many, very many, noble examples of moral courage and firmness of mind, when exposed to harsh treatment, temptation and danger. There were cases of no small personal hazard. Indeed, to resist popular prejudices - to dare to say no, when urged from the path of duty-to endure misrepresentation or neglect in silence-and to see even the artillery of Heaven pointed against you by some bigot, because you are a Mason - is a lofty and rare virtue; and the more precious, because the crowning sin of the age is, a burning thirst for popularity. Has not the "love of the people" become a pass-word to the citadel of power?

The fiery trial has long since passed. The cant of alarmists is lost on the crowd. Of all our numerous enemies, I have no desire to drag from oblivion a single name. They and their circulars, and their printing presses, and their ghastly disclosures, have become

"Like the fat weed
That rots itself at ease on Lethe's wharf."

Masonry has come out purified by the ordeal. In the midst of all the storms and troubles which assailed them, our noble and spirited Brethren in Boston, erected a spacious and elegant granite Temple, and their light shone on the darkness around them. Lonely Brothers in the country, saw the beacon-blaze afar off, took courage, and held on. The trial it has passed through, evinces that our Institution contains in itself a conservative principle. It is a singular fact, that, while it has been excommunicated by the Pope, because anti-monarchical - assailed by some Protestant sectaries, because anti-republican - and calumniated by bigots, because anti-Christian - Tom Paine and the transcendentalist Carlyle, have proscribed it, in their incoherent writings, because too religious! Let these opponents sit upon the horns of their own dilemma, and divide the conclusion among them. We are safe. We have been attacked, also, because we were a secret Society; but the shot falls harmless at our feet. We will preserve our Phi Beta Kappa, in spite of all examples to the contrary. Indeed, it would have been well if some proceedings at the Capitol, had transpired under a perpetual secrecy;- a secret fund, so necessary for emergencies, would not then have been called in question before the world, by any dishonest partisan, who judges others by his own corrupt temperament.

Allow me to say, there is a class of excellent and upright men, who would never identify themselves with this faction,- men, who yet entertained severe prejudices against Freemasonry. I respect all such, and only wish they could look into the hearts of true Masons, and correct their own unjust opinions. Bnt the history of that faction, which sought honor and immortality on our ruins, may be summed up in a few words:- "There rose up Judas of Galilee, in the days of the taxing, and drew much people after him: he also perished, and all, even as many as obeyed him, were dispersed."

It was the opinion of Plutarch, in his treatise on morals that there are seasons in the cycles of ages, when the atmosphere disorders the public mind. It surely seemed that there was some such malady during the reign of terror in France, when Paris was turned into a slaughter-house by human butchers! What think you it was in New England, when the sons of the Pilgrims, at Salem, felt a mysterious touch of the supernatural?- where, except in the Mississippi or South-Sea schemes, or Dutch Tulip-mania, was there a wilder project than the Timber-township speculation of 1835, in Maine, which swept away the fortunes of so many industrious men? And is not the late persecution of Masonry, acknowledged by all sensible men, to have been an atmospheric disease, working like a hydrophobia on certain selfish or timid idiosyncracies? Is there not something even now, which troubles the mind's eye of the public, and makes the air look a little hazy? Let us pause for a moment, and consider some of the symptoms, and see if the public pulse at all times beats temperately.

Inventions, discoveries, eccentric societies, and strange theories, are multiplying around us, like stereotype copies of a romance. Soul and body must be fed by excitement. We cannot walk, but - into an omnibus. We cannot travel to see the beauties of the country, but under a pillar of fire and smoke, with an eighty-horse power. We have seen wonders in heaven above and in the earth beneath. We must think by machinery. Intellect and the swell of the head, are synonymous; and the painter, without the organ of color, and the musician, without the bump of tune, though a descendant of Raphael or Orpheus, would be rejected. Opinions, too, the most paradoxical, are hatched in these phrenological ovens of the brain: Such as- To use the rod, will spoil the child:- Children learn most, who, by the new helps of learning, study the least:- Ignorance of the law, (so decided by legislative enactment in a certain State,) is the best recommendation to practice:- The more ignorant a preacher is, the more instructive is his discourse:- Because, in England there are nearly one hundred and fifty capital offences, therefore, we, living under the distorted doctrine of giving up coat, cloak, purse, and person, to the assailant, should have none:- The best defence of our coasts and harbors against invasion, is an unarmed militia and dismantled forts; because, to maintain peace, it is necessary to be unprepared for war:- Murder is only the highest exponent of somnambulism:- A church without a head, and a nation without a ruler, are the perfection of all government. No wonder, then, that the mind, waking from a dream of centuries, should now revolve on humming spindles, and manufacture all kinds of Utopian projects, together with bales of books, prose, poetry, philosophy and science, so fast, that the lightness and fineness of the texture, increase in the ratio that the raw material diminishes. Trnly, are not some of our public libraries becoming immense lumber-yards of the press?

Indeed old things are doing away, and all things are becoming new. Society is in a state of transition. Geology seems to be passing from the natural into the intellectual world. The polished surface of the old school is breaking up into the rough edges and sharp angles of modern improvement. The monsters of Infidelity are starting up in "The Vestiges of Creation." Moral Megatherions and political ' Ichthy-sauri, disturb the fixed order of ideas. There, we discover a Mormon Mastodon, issuing from the alluvial deposits of Nauvoo;- here, a huge sectarian Dragon of genus non-descript, with a jaw of large dimensions, lying asleep among the Debris of a Milleritish tabernacle which the fire-worshippers have been trying in vain to wake up. Then comes a phrenological animal of the genus Batrachia, because full of protubrances, which is much cherished by the Savans;- and last, not least, of the tertiary formation, is the magnetizing Gymnotus - a creature of the Torpedo species, which has been known to do wonders at the Bar, and in the Lecture-room to draw from "the vasty deep" of Clairvoyance, more beauties and revelations than ever Prospero raised in his magic circle on the enchanted isle.

Among such upheavings of the molten mind, almost every branch of knowledge has undergone a change. Esculapius, if he could draw aside yon blue curtain of the sky, and look down upon this dark planet of churchyards, must surely believe, from the smoke of locomotives and the fume of vapor baths, that the central fires of the earth have broke loose again. For lo! here comes a Steam-professor with a panacea for all diseases; and he boils his patient into health, in the old-fashioned style in which the sorceress Medea, rejuvenated her aged father, viz.: by immersing him in a bubbling cauldron of herb tea! Then starts up the Hydropathic adventurer, from some cottage among the Alpine scenery, and begins to envelop the external, and dilute the internal man, with the cold droppings of a glacier; and, lest his work should not be perfect, the Homoeopathic Scythian, with mustaches like a goat, dances into his patient's purse, and by his homogeneous and infinitesimal pills, lights upon certain abdominal papillae, which no solar microscope could ever yet discover - and so, he works his cure. When the land produces such wonders, can that old serpent of the sea, the most retiring and diffident of aquatics, be any longer a subject of doubt! But where shall I stop? For it is the custom of the day to applaud a public speaker, not for the beauty and brevity of his discourse, but for the number of hours he speaks; like the Hindoo admirers of that devotee who could stand longest on one foot, mounted, not on a rostrum, but on the top of a pillar. Or might I go one step farther, and stop at Fifty-four-forty, and thereby imitate a certain Squire, who, at a country raising, having drunk a little too deep of the pail of popularity, and being filled with the dream of enlarging "the area of freedom," cried out with stentorian lungs, "My voice is still for war! I must fight somebody, or - have no peace at home!"

Pardon this digression. We, surely, my Brethren, have need to cultivate a calm and reflective state of mind, free from perturbation and prejudice. When every thing goes by steam, and every man of business you meet on 'Change seems to be out of breath - when large bodies of men, and even sober professors of religion, are sometimes carried away by theories, and projects, and innovations, which neither the experience of ages, nor the whisperings of common sense, can approve - when every new sect gets up a tempest, and rides upon the whirlwind into notice - when extremes are made the test of principle, and, to use a polished metaphor of the West, we must go the whole hog, or nothing-and when even salutary reforms, touching peace, or temperance, or education, or slavery, or any moral problem, are liable to be strained up by ultra.ism, almost to the very verge of rupture - certainly, we have reason to adopt the words of a collect in the Episcopal Church : "Lord, grant me a right judgment in all things."

An essayist of great originality - John Foster - has advanced the idea that if every man could examine himself deeply, he would discover that his tastes, pursuits, and views, change many times in the journey of life. How much more does public opinion continually change. It is unstable as water. History is full of instances. Plutarch, in his inimitable Lives, only presents a series of examples - a picture of the lights and shadows of popularity. Aristides was exiled, because he was just. Phocion was put to death, because he was good. Socrates suffered the penalty of being an independent and honest thinker. Camillus was driven from Rome, because he was a patriot; and even the eloquent Cicero was first exiled, and afterwards beheaded, because he was true to his country. Such is the world. To-day, a man is at the summit of popularity - to-morrow, his downfall is hawked by newsboys about the streets. It is difficult to predict what public opinion may be nex~ week, or month, or year, concerning religion, fashion, or politics - and, I might add, literature: for we live in an age of the bombastic and transcendental style of writing - in an era of making books without ideas. For twelve centuries the purple Tiara ruled the Christianity of the world. Then came the Reformation, emancipating the human mind; but m the mighty reform, did it not also sweep away some of the ancient landmarks of Christianity? So terrible was the reaction in England, that, at the behest of a tyrant-king, eight hundred monasteries were crushed by one blow! And yet, behold the change of public opinion! There was a time when they were the light-houses of literatu:e, the asylum of penury, and the only castle which the barbarian of the dark ages respected. Again - during a long course of centuries, the Feudal system, with all its ramifications and appendages, from the vile tenure by Villanage, to the liberal fealty by Socage, overshadowed the continent of Europe, and ruled our Saxon progenitors with a rod of iron. Its Herculean grasp is broken. Its history fills volumes in the alcoves of dead-letter law, which now lie obsolete behind the cob-web curtains; and in this country, where neither primogeniture, fealty, nor entailment are known, it seems like a dream of past ages.

Do not, therefore, such changes and revolutions, in a world where religious and political institutions, once cherished as the perfection of wisdom, are now either discarded as evils, or called in question as useless, evince the necessity of some tie or cement, by which men of principle can be united for the common good? Do we not need, in such a world of storms and vicissitudes, some permanent Brotherhood, whose members, associating for the well-being of all, for mutual help and mutual instruction, may be bound together by some mysterious influence, which neither ambition, envy, nor ignorance, can dissolve? We often see political partisans living beyond hailing distance of each other. We see some churches with partition walls, "high as heaven and deep as hell," separating their proselytes from all who differ from their creed. And we observe that wealth is too apt to form casts in society. The poor often sit in solitary families, struggling for support, and doomed to neglect; and yet possessing minds, which, if only enlarged by culture, and cheered by the influence of those in higher classes, would make society much happier, and take off many shades from the deep coloring of sorrow. The rich, on the other hand, living secluded, independent, and reserved, are too apt to dwell far beyond the reach or knowledge of the poor. They move in a sphere which neither the wants nor anxieties of their humble neighbors can approach - like Asiatic princes in their splendid palaces - seldom seen, and always surrounded by pleasures. I speak of some of the opulent, and of those clothed in fine linen and purple, and who fare sumptuously every day. But let me not be misunderstood. I would draw no envious distinctions between the rich and the poor, especially in our happy land, where many of the affluent are so remarkable for benevolence and philanthropy. A vast Brotherhood, therefore, which can draw the rich from their gay saloons, and allure the poor from their workshops and cottages, to a spot where a closer communion of kindly feelings and friendly intercourse would arise, certainly deserves to be encouraged. How often, in England, the wealthy nobleman thinks but lightly of the splendor of his armorial star, compared with the smile of the worthy citizen, whom he meets as a brother Mason: and nowhere does the Fraternity flourish more than in that proud realm, on whose dominions the sun never sets. A society like ours, has a tendency to promote peace, good feelings, and acts of kindness, between persons of all ranks and professions, and the subjects of different nations. The true Mason carries in his hand a safe passport to all parts of the world, where hnh1anity, freedom, or toleration are known.

It has been said that we have some bad men in our ranks. Be it so. In a body composed of such vast numbers, scattered over land and sea, from among all nations, and of such vai:ious avocations and pursuits, it is reasonable to believe there must be some unworthy men in the umversal mixture. But I dare maintain that the proportion is as small as in any society whatever. We are men. We have the infirmities of men. Those who condemn us, forget that hypocrites and apostates ~ay be found, alas! too often, in every moral, and in every religious association. We must judge, it is true, of the tree by its fruit; but if, in any instances, some fruit may have dropped in its greenness, and some fallen to the ground in its rottenness, they are only exceptions to the Divine rule. To judge of a society by a few apostates, is neither sound logic or common sense. The purest wheat has some tares. The merchant does not judge of the safety of a monied institution, by the superscription of a counterfeit bill; though by such a measure,judgment has been too of ten dealt out unsparingly upon Freemasonry.

I am aware, too, it has been said, that in this country such is the effect of the diffusion of knowledge - of equal laws, and of the softening influences of Christianity, that there is no longer any need of a Masonic Fraternity; since it is superseded by the vigilance of the Church and the prevalence of eleemosynary associations. There may be the appearance of plausibility in this objection. But have we any assurance that public opinion, peace and prosperity, will always continue as they are now? Do not party strife, religious differences and sudden innovations, cast some shade, even now, over our sunny sky? Are we not imitating the fashions and vices of the old countries, and in some degree following in the steps of all the nations of antiquity? Are we sure that we may not need a brother's kindness or a brother's help to-morrow? Is the rich man always secure in his palace, while the violent reformer and the voracious Agrarian, are ever ready for depredation? Is the poor man sure of being always protected from the fury of the mob, or the snares of the oppressor? We know too well what suffering and distress prevail in the crowded and populous cities of Europe, and that almost every ship brings over a host of needy emigrants to our shores, and with them the tales of indescribable wretchedness, in the old countries. Indeed, is there not some need of such a benevolent society as ours, since we have the poor always with us?

In advancing these remarks, let not my views be misunderstood. I am no believer in a retrograde state of society. The world is growing happier, better, and more suited for intellectual and immortal beings. We believe this is an era of benevolent action, though there are still evils and sufferings in the old world, which are terrible, and appear even greater than in all past ages; yet, our opinion may be very different from that of many upon this subject. The fact is, there has been a deep searching and examination made by the eye of philanthropy, into all parts of our globe. A self-denying Howard - a Wilberforce - a Mrs. Frye - have been at work. In England, especially, from her manufactories and mines - from her caverns and cottages - from her highways and byways, a mass of facts has been gathered; and in the huge volumes of parliamentary documents, every chapter, page, and section, are darkened with details of starvation and want. The picture is loathsome to look upon. But is this entirely a new state of things? In that densely-peopled country, there has been much misery for ages but formerly, there was no record kept of the march of famine - no roll of starving families - no kind eye to look behind the walls and rag-filled windows of their miserable tenements m the narrow lanes. Arithmetic had not travelled among them. Now, all at once, a minuteness of detail, amid a sum-total of facts, have burst upon the astomshed view. This very circumstance is a harbinger of their amelioration. The eye of benevolence has opened - the hand of philanthropy is extended and there will be no rest till some relief is admmistered. There is but one Lazarus on record: but were there no more in Judea? The fact is, there is now even less suffering in England than formerly, if we may judge from the bills of mortality which, in the workshops and factories, evince less deaths.

Let not the reformer, therefore, with unsparing hand, attempt to destroy one of the most efficient means of making men better and happier, through the instrumentality of a Brotherhood, composed of all parties, professions, and distinctions of life, and so wonderfully calculated to unite the good in the cause of virtue and excellence, and to diminish the evils to which flesh is the unwilling heir.

In looking into our history, there is much to encourage us. Freemasonry is adorned with names of renown - of chieftains, scholars, statesmen, and philosophers,- of holy men, who have led many to the narrow path of life - of laymen, whose genius embellished all that they touched. The immortal Burns was a companion of "the mystic tie." Walter Scott was a shining light in the Lodge. I might refer to by-gone days, when the Red Cross of the Templar waved over the Holy Sepulchre, and the eyes of an admiring world were fixed on Rhodes and Malta, where the castles and towers of the Knights of St. John overawed the Mediterranean. I might. display a constellation of names, splendid as Orion or Cassiopeia, in our own hemisphere; but time forbids, and we are reminded this day, of events which come home to our bosoms, and of many good men who have recently left us. The venerable Purkitt, and onr learned and excellent Rev. Brother, Harris, will long be remembered; and so will the popular and patriotic Russell, with whom, in the days of his exile, Louis Phillippe, the best of the Bourbons, and the noblest monarch France ever produced, sought acquaintance as a Brother, nor sought in vain. (See the interesting Eulogy by our Hon. Brother FRANCIS BAYLIES, March 10, 1845. lt is full of valuablr historic matter.)

Yes, we have much to encourage us. Masonry has revived in England, on the continent of Europe, on the banks of the Ganges, and in our own land. Cheering news has reached us from our Atlantic States, from the valley of the Mississippi, from the highlands of the North, and the Texian prairies of the South. The Institution cannot perish while liberty exists. It will live when we my Brethren, have all vanished from the earth. It will live, when hundreds of millions are peopling this vast continent - when the smoke of the locomotive is seen curling up the Rocky Mountains and the star-spangled banner waves over the shores of the Pacific Ocean. It will live, while man is free, and the heart of man beats with benevolence.

While in this happy Commonwealth, the Attica of America, we have reason to rejoice in our prospects abroad, and to be thankful for our blessings at home, it would be wrong to forget one small province in a distant hemisphere, where, for almost two thousand years, all has lain desolate, still and melancholy. I mean the land of Palestine, where the Temple once stood. No city there flourishes with the hum of commerce - no fields there bud and blossom with the delights of agriculture - no village there resounds with the joyous voices of the children of freedom. Nor hill nor glen repeats the praises of Jehovah, which once filled every mountain of Judea. Not a boat ripples the waters of the Lake of Galilee. The daughter of Palestme sits, like a widow at the grave, veiled in sorrow. Jerusalem is trodden down by the oppressor, and the mosque and the minaret are on Mount Moriah. Will this be so forever? Part of the Prophecies have been literally fulfilled. Will not the remainder be equally so? I believe they will. The Jews are a wonderful people - of peculiar visage, religion and customs - separate, and yet mixed with the Gentiles - trodden down, yet flourishing under oppression - a by-word, a proverb, a term of reproach - often traced in their flight by steps of blood - and for nearly twenty centuries, with the curse of God upon them, and their once fruitful land,- such are the descendants of Israel. They are a living monument of the truth of the Bible - a standing witness of their own recorded history. The skeptic who will look in their eye, and study their ways and wanderings, will see enough to verify the Scriptures and convert him from infidelity. The blaze of a Drummond light on surrounding darkness, is not more pungent and far-reaching than the glaring evidence they themselves shed on the truth of Christianity. The eyes of the aged Jew, in whatever land he dwells, always turn towards his ancestral city, his beloved Jerusalem : there he wishes to die, and lay his bones in the tomb of his fathers. He looks forward to a Messiah. He believes in the return of his race to his father-land. He considers the land of Palestine now so barren, and yielding scarcely any fruits, as only waiting his restoration to bloom again. Can we wonder at such views? With fine seaports on the Mediterranean; with European marts on one side, and with Persia, India and China, offering their commerce by the Persian Gulf and Red Sea, on the other, Palestine has maritime advantages of great extent. Already there is said to be an under-water current, a secret stir among the Jews of Europe, looking for an early day of their return. I have no doubt the time is at hand. The fig tree is nearly ripe. Their return, when it comes, will be sudden: an Invisible Hand will guide them. From all countries, from all lands, where they now sojourn, those unhappy, scattered, down-trodden children of Israel, will rush at the sign from Heaven, and a nation will be born in a day. No sweeter sounds can cheer the weary traveller, as the echoing horn among the Alpine passes of the White Hills, reminds him that the place of rest is near, than will be the beating of the waves on the shores of Syria, to the returning Jews, as they gather there in a mighty host to re-people Palestine. That day will come, too, like a flash of lightning or the roll of the earthquake, suddenly upon the world. Millions will then open their eyes on the truth of the Holy Word. They will look on Him whom they pierced, and behold in the Messiah a crucified Redeemer. Carrying with them the improvements and discoveries of the Gentiles, they will soon behold the railroad winding among their mountains, passing by the sluggish waters of the Dead Lake, and perhaps across the great Desert to the Red Sea. Then will the waters of Galilee, on which the blessed feet of our Lord once trod, bend beneath the foaming steamers - then will the tower of Lebanon again look toward Damascus - and then will the land of Promise become the land of the Hebrew Christian, and our Fraternity may yet behold another Temple rising on Mount Moriah. So mote it be.

There is one subject to which I would call your attention, my Brethren, before I close an address, which I fear has already wearied you. A few years since, the attention of a number of spirited Masons, was turned toward a solitary, time-honored spot, on the banks of the Potomac, where lie the remains of as great and good a man as ever lived,- one, too, who loved our Fraternity, and cherished it to his latest hour. They commenced a plan for erecting a splendid monument on that spot. From some cause, it was postponed. But it is not too late to revive this noble undertaking. It ought to be done, and done by Masons. It can be done: let but a Promethean spark kindle the patriotic fire in every bosom, and it is done. Then would the stranger from other lands behold a Masonic memorial towering on the banks of the Potomac, of enduring and grateful remembrance to The Father of His Country, where, in the cemetery of his family, he now sleeps in glory!

AT ST. JOHN'S DAY, PORTLAND, MAINE, JUNE 1862

From Moore's Freemason's Monthly, Vol. XXI, No. 11, August, 1862, Page 342:

M. W. Grand Master — We have come to visit yon in response to your kind invitation, on this anniversary so dear to the fraternity, for hundreds of years, and bringing to ourselves and to you the reminiscences of Ancient Craft Masonry which runs back to scene* in the Holy Land, end to the honored name of that patron St. John, to whom we consecrate this festival. We have come as the Grand Lodge of Massachusetts, from which, one handled years ago, you received your charter; and we have come from your parent Commonwealth, of which you were once an integral part, until you became a free and independent Slate, and now rivaling her in commerce and all the arts of life, and more especially in loyalty to the memoir in this day of National calamity and most unholy rebellion.

But we come not alone to greet you with All-hail on this Jubilee of Portland Lodge. You behold us accompanied with an escort of Knights Templar, the representatives of those who fought for the rescue of the Holy Sepulchre in the Crusades of such thrilling memory—Crusades which regenerated Europe from the slumber of the Dark Ages.

A centennial celebration like this carries us back to past times, and our own early history. Among the visions of other days, we are reminded of that epoch in American Freemasonry, July 30, 1733, when the Grand Lodge of Massachusetts — the earliest institution of the Craft known on this continent, was chartered under the hand and seal of Lord Montacute, Grand Master of Masons in England. The warrant was sent to Henry Price, a merchant of Boston, whom our R. W. Br. Moore happily describes as the "fine old English gentleman" — the Father of Masonry in America. By this warrant he was appointed Provincial G. M. for New England, and the next year be was clothed with larger powers extending over North America. On the 24th of June, 1734, the first Lodge in Pennsylvania was chartered, over which the celebrated Dr. Franklin was empowered as M., and the same day a warrant was issued to the "Lodge of Holy St. John" at Portsmouth, N. H. It was followed by another on the 27th of December following, to the "First Lodge" in South Carolina, at Charleston. According to Mills' Statistics of South Carolina, in 1826 there were fourteen Lodges, 1500 Brethren and annual charities of $1500 in that city. I will not burden yon with a detail of charters which our Grand Lodge issued to other States.

These facts are interesting, at this time, and worthy of remembrance. We are reminded, too, of the long and prosperous existence of your Fraternity,—"Portland Lodge," chartered March 20, 1762, a hundred years ago; of "Warren Lodge," Machias, Sept. 4, 1778; and "Lincoln Lodge," Wiscasset, June the 1st, 1792, each of which is now venerable and ancient. You are aware that your Lodge was originally called Falmouth, and afterwards altered to Portland. The first name applied to your locality before it was set off and incorporated as the town of Portland, July 4, 1786; a name which excites in every American a train of sorrowful and indignant feelings. For it was here, in the Revolutionary war, that a petty officer in the British navy, Henry Mowatt, with a squadron of four armed vessels, on the 18th day of October, 1755, entered your harbor, laid his ships abreast of the town, and for nearly nine hours discharged their broadsides of bombs, balls and grape-shot upon the defenceless place, and laid nearly all the settlement in ashes! The particulars of this unparalleled atrocity, so contrary to the laws of war among civilized nations, as described by our late Mayor, the Hon. William Willis, in bis History of Portland, makes the reader shudder at the idea of such cruelty in one born in a Christian land—a land of so many glorious memories. England felt the shame of this black spot in her history, and pretended to disavow the authority; yet she let the perpetrator go to his grave unhung.

But Falmouth rose like a Phoenix from her ashes; and Portland looms up as one of the most beautiful cities on the Atlantic shore. Situated upon and between two hills, from whose summits the while brow of Ml. Washington may be teen in the west, and the boundless are of sky and ocean in (he east—almost entirely an island — with a deep harbor which the Great Eastern ought lo have visited before all other ports in America, if the managers had not been recreant to their promise — with handsome houses and gardens, wide streets and avenues under shady trees — and with a promenade and ride or corso, as the Italians call it, running six miles around the city and along the margin of waters, Portland is justly the delight of strangers, who come from a sultry region to inhale the sea breezes of the North. And why when so many gallant Sir Knights are present, why shall I not speak of the proverbial beauty of your ladies!

No city in the United States has surpassed Portland in enterprise. It has already doubled your wealth and resources, and greatly increased your population. The Grand Trunk Railroad, which owes so much to the influence and liberality of your merchants and citizens, reaching from your shores, along mountains, valleys and winding streams, lo the great river St. Lawrence, and then through the gigantic tunnel-bridge to Montreal — a more majestic wonder than its English prototype at Menai Straits—standing as a monument of tbe public spirit and moral courage of Portland. From such an enterprise your city is already reaping a reward; for with her right arm she stretches her trade into the very heart of one of England's richest provinces: and with her left, through British Steamers, cullg the commerce of England herself from her own island home.

I feel proud of Maine, where the larger part of my life was spent, and I admire her noble stand and loyally to the Union, in this unhappy civil war. When Washington, in his Farewell Address, uttered these words :— "Frown indignantly upon the first dawning of any attempt to alienate any portion of our country from the rest," who could dream, that two generations were hardly passed, before we were put upon a trial? Two years ago this was the happy land, prosperous and exalted in privileges beyond any nation on earth. A change has come over us. Who could believe that the meteor flag of rebellion would so soon be seen, flying over seven States, led away and seduced by a conspiracy of evil spirits like Catiline, Cethegus, Lentulus, and thus have fallen from glor ? But that memorable day, April the 12th, 1861, when the first gun was fired at Sumter, seemed like a sudden thunder stroke in the heavens; it shook the great heart of the nation; then did the rising people of the North and West "frown indignantly;" while the echo of that gun was passing from mountain to mountain, from the White Hills of New Hampshire to the Sierra Nevada of California, more than 600,000 volunteers stepped forward, and hundreds of millions of treasure were proffered in defence of the Republic. Honor to Maine for her noble stand in loyalty to the Union. Like Massachusetts she has sent forth the flower of her youth, and the strength of her manhood in this sacred cause, and spared not her treasures. The meteor flag of rebellion already quails before that starry banner which before has led to victory in two wars. The ancient Romans bad an old adage commemorated by one of their poets.

Dum domus Italiæ Capitoli immobile saxum
Accolet, imperiuinque pater Romanus habebit:"

Freely translated, While the Sons of Liberty shall retain our Capitol, the Union thill remain indissoluble.

Can any one doubt that these remarks are seasonable and in their place, at such an assembly of Masons, and on a festival like this? I trust not. True, the dogmas of politics and the doctrines of religion are not allowed as matters of discussion in the Lodges. But here we stand on no such neutral ground. Loyalty to our country and obedience to her laws, are among the first principles of Free-masonry. The union of these States, is dear to us as the apple of the eye. It shall not, it must not be touched by rebellion; for the smallest mote of treason which afflicts it draws a tear, while we "frown indignantly" at the culprit.

M.W. Grand Master, I congratulate you upon the flourishing condition of Freemasonry in your State. You now number 111 Lodges under the jurisdiction of the Grand Lodge of Maine, which I had the honor of addressing June 24, 1820, after its organization under its first Grand Master, first Gov., Wm. King. Again, June 24, 1844, I addressed your Grand Lodge on the revival of Masonry, alter the political persecution, which aimed at the extinction of the Order, had become powerless. Our Lodges in that trying time generally stood firm to their principles, although here and there, a feeble Brother fainted by the way and went no more with us, and a very few proved recreant and joined the adversary. But let bygones be bygones.

With pleasure would I refer to honored names among you; many of whom have gone to their last, and we trust, happy home; but the time forbids. Allow me before I sit down, to offer my humble testimony in behalf of Freemasonry. An experience of fifty years will excuse my egotism in speaking of myself. Of all human institutions, Freemasonry is the wisest and beet. Its motive is benevolence, its endeavor to make good citizens and faithful subjects of government. It supplies one of the great wants of our nature, for we all need friends and sympathy. It is composed of men of all ranks, denominations and parties, and we meet on equality. In England it has a softening influence on the pride of Aristocracy; in America it checks the leveling tendency of Democracy. I have studied its history, and the proof is irrefragable that it has come down to us from a very remote antiquity. I regard it as, in some degree, a religious institution, for it leads to the threshold of Christianity, by leaching a reverence for our Creator and His holy name and word—the immortality of the soul, and that those who by faith, are good men and true, will be happy in the world to come. Some of the best and greatest men whoever lived, have not disdained lo wear the while apron, the emblem of innocence and purity. It is a conservative institution, and the only one on earth, where all meet on the level and practically recognize one common Brotherhood.


Distinguished Brothers