Your doubts, your fears, in gloomy dulness steep;
Go--soothe your souls in sickness, death, or pain,
With the sad solace of eternal sleep.
Yet know, vain sceptics, know, th' Almighty Mind,
Who breath'd on man a portion of his fire,
Bade his free soul, by earth nor time confin'd,
To Heaven, to immortality aspire.
Nor shall this pile of hope his bounty rear'd,
By vain philosophy be e'er destroy'd;
Eternity, by all or hop'd or fear'd,
Shall be by all or suffer'd or enjoy'd.
MASON.
The unfortunate Prince who has taken refuge in this kingdom, and
whose situation among us is an illustrious mark of the generosity of
the nation, and of the sovereignty of its laws, said to one of the
Gentleman about him, that "if this country was to escape the general
wreck of nations, it would owe its preservation to Religion."--When
this was doubted, and it was observed, that there had not been
wanting many Religionists in France; "True," said the Prince,
"but they were not in earnest.--I see here a serious interest in
the thing. The people know what they are doing when they go to
church--they understand something of it, and take an interest in
it." May his observation be just, and his expectations be fulfilled!
IV. I would again call upon my countrywomen with the most earnest
concern, and beseech them to consider this subject as of more
particular importance to themselves than even to the men.--While
woman is considered as a respectable moral agent, training along
with ourselves for endless improvement; then, and only then, will
she be considered by lordly man as his equal;--then, and only
then, will she be allowed to have any rights, and those rights be
respected. Strip women of this prerogative, and they become the
drudges of man's indolence, or the pampered playthings of his idle
hours, subject to his caprices, and slaves to his mean passions.
Soon will their present empire of gallantry be over. It is a
refinement of manners which sprang from Christianity; and when
Christianity is forgotten, this artificial diadem will be taken
from their heads, and unless they adopt the ferocious sentiments
of their Gallic neighbours, and join in the general uproar, they
will sink into the insignificance of the women in the turbulent
republics of Greece, where they are never seen in the busy haunts
of men, if we except four or five, who, during the course of as
many centuries, emerged from the general obscurity, and appear in
the historic page, by their uncommon talents, and by the sacrifice
of what my fair countrywomen still hold to be the ornament of their
sex. I would remind them, that they have it in their power to
retain their present honourable station in society. They are our
early instructors; and while mothers in the respectable stations
of life continued to inculcate on the tender minds of their sons
a veneration for the precepts of Religion, their pliant children,
receiving their instructions along with the affectionate caresses
of their mothers, got impressions which long retained their force,
and which protected them from the impulses of youthful passions,
till ripening years fitted their minds for listening to serious
instruction from their public teachers. Sobriety and decency of
manners were then no slur on the character of a youth, and he was
thought capable of struggling for independence, or pre-eminence,
fit either for supporting or defending the state, although he
was neither a toper nor a rake. I believe that no man who has
seen thirty or forty years of life will deny that the manners of
youth are sadly changed in this respect. And, without presuming
to say that this has proceeded from the neglect, and almost total
cessation of the moral education of the nursery, I think myself well
warranted, from my own observation, to say that this education and
the sober manners of young men have quitted us together.
Some will call this prudery, and croaking. But I am almost
transcribing from Cicero, and from Quintilian. Cornelia, Aurelia,
Attia, and other ladies of the first rank, are praised by Cicero
only for their _eminence_ in this respect; but not because they were
_singular_. Quintilian says, that in the time immediately prior to
his own, it had been the general practice of the ladies of rank to
superintend the moral education both of sons and daughters. But
of late, says he, they are so engaged in continual and corrupting
amusements, such as the shows of gladiators, horse-racing, and deep
play, that they have no time, and have yielded their places to Greek
governesses and tutors, outcasts of a nation more subdued by their
own vices than by the Roman arms----I dare say this was laughed
at, as croaking about the corruption of the age. But what was the
consequence of all this?--The Romans became the most abandoned
voluptuaries, and, to preserve their mean pleasures, they crouched
as willing slaves to a succession of the vilest tyrants that ever
disgraced humanity.
What a noble fund of self-estimation would our fair partners acquire
to themselves, if, by reforming the manners of the young generation,
they should be the means of restoring peace to the world! _They
have it in their power_, by the renewal of the good old custom of
early instruction, and perhaps still more, by impressing on the
minds of their daughters the same sentiments, and obliging them
to respect sobriety and decency in the youth, and pointedly to
withhold their smiles and civilities from all who transgress these
in the smallest degree. This is a method of proceeding that _will
most certainly be victorious_. Then indeed will the women be the
saviours of their country. While therefore the German fair have been
repeatedly branded with having welcomed the French invaders[27],
let our ladies stand up for the honour of free-born Britons, by
turning against the pretended enlighteners of the world, the arms
which nature has put into their hands, and which those profligates
have presumptuously expected to employ in extending their influence
over mankind. The empire of beauty is but short, but the empire of
virtue is durable; nor is there an instance to be met with of its
decline. If it be yet possible to reform the world, it is possible
for the fair. By the constitution of human nature, they must always
appear as the ornament of human life, and be the objects of fondness
and affection; so that if any thing can make head against the
selfish and overbearing dispositions of man, it is his respectful
regard for the sex. But mere fondness has but little of the rational
creature in it, and we see it harbour every day in the breast that
is filled with the meanest and most turbulent passions. No where
is it so strong as in the harems of the east; and as long as the
women ask nothing of the men but fondness and admiration, they will
get nothing else--they will never be respected. But let them rouse
themselves, assert their dignity, by shewing their own elevated
sentiments of human nature, and by asking up to this claim, and they
may then command the world.
[27] I have met with this charge in many places; and one book in
particular, written by a Prussian General Officer, who was in the
country over-run by the French troops, gives a detail of the conduct
of the women that is very remarkable. He also says, that infidelity
has become very prevalent among the ladies in the higher circles.
Indeed this melancholy account is to be found in many passages of
the private correspondence of the Illuminati.
V. Another good consequence that should result from the account
that has been given of the proceedings of this conspiracy is, that
since the fascinating picture of human life, by which men have
been wheedled into immediate anarchy and rebellion, is insincere,
and a mere artificial creature of the imagination, it can have no
steadiness, but must be changed by every freak of fancy, or by every
ingenious sophist, who can give an equal plausibility to whatever
suits his present views. It is as much an airy phantom as any other
whim of Free Masonry, and has no prototype, no original pattern
in human nature, to which recourse may always be had, to correct
mistakes, and keep things in a constant tenor. Has not France given
the most unequivocal proofs of this? Was not the declaration of the
Rights of Man, the production of their most brilliant Illuminators,
a picture, _in abstracto_, where man was placed at a distance from
the eye, that no false light of local situation might pervert the
judgment or engage the passions? Was it not declared to be the
master-piece of human wisdom? Did not the nation consider it at
leisure? and, having it continually before their eyes, did they
not, step by step, give their assent to the different articles
of their Constitution, derived from it, and fabricated by their
most choice Illuminators? And did not this Constitution draw the
applauses of the bright geniuses of other nations, who by this
time were busy in persuading, each his countrymen, that they were
ignoramuses in statistics, and patient slaves of oppression or
of ancient prejudices? Did not panegyrics on it issue from every
garret in London? Where is it now? where is its successor? Has any
one plan of government subsisted, except while it was supported by
the incontroulable and inexorable power of the guillotine? Is not
the present administration of France as much as ever the object of
discontent and of terror, and its coercions as like as ever to the
summary justice of the Parisian mob? Is there any probability of its
permanency in a state of peace, when the fears of a foreign enemy
no longer give a consolidation to their measures, and oblige them
either to agree among themselves, or immediately to perish?
VI. The above accounts evince in the most uncontrovertible manner
the dangerous tendency of all mystical societies, and of all
associations who hold secret meetings. We see that their uniform
progress has been from frivolity and nonsense to wickedness and
sedition. Weishaupt has been at great pains to shew the good
effects of secrecy in the Association, and the arguments are valid
for this purpose. But all his arguments are so many dissuasive
advices to every thinking and sober mind. The man who really wishes
to discover an abstruse truth will place himself, if possible in
a _calm_ situation, and will by no means expose himself to the
impatient hankering for secrets and wonders--and he will always fear
that a thing which resolutely conceals itself cannot bear the light.
All who have seriously employed themselves in the discovery of truth
have found the great advantages of open communication of sentiment.
And it is against common sense to imagine that there is any thing
of vast importance to mankind which is yet a secret, and which must
be kept a secret in order to be useful. This is against the whole
experience of mankind--And surely to hug in one's breast a secret of
such mighty importance, is to give the lie to all our professions of
brotherly love. What a solecism! a secret to enlighten and reform
the whole world. We render all our endeavours impotent when we grasp
at a thing beyond our power. Let an association be formed with a
serious plan for reforming its own members, and let them extend in
numbers in proportion as they succeed--this might do some good. But
must the way of doing this be a secret?--It may be to many--who will
not look for it where it is to be found--It is this:
"Do good,--seek peace,--and pursue it."
But it is almost affronting the reader to suppose arguments
necessary on this point. If there be a necessity for secrecy, the
purpose of the association is either frivolous, or it is selfish.
Now, in either case, the danger of such secret assemblies is
manifest. Mere frivolity can never seriously occupy men come to age.
And accordingly we see that in every quarter of Europe where Free
Masonry has been established, the Lodges have become seed-beds of
public mischief. I believe that no ordinary brother will say that
the occupations in the Lodges are any thing better than frivolous,
very frivolous indeed. The distribution of charity needs be no
secret, and it is but a very small part of the employment of the
meeting. This being the case it is in human nature that the greater
we suppose the frivolity of such an association to be, the greater
is the chance of its ceasing to give sufficient occupation to the
mind, and the greater is the risk that the meetings may be employed
to other purposes which require concealment. When this happens,
self-interest alone must prompt and rule, and now there is no length
that some men will not go, when they think themselves in no danger
of detection and punishment. The whole proceedings of the secret
societies of Free Masons on the Continent (and I am authorised to
say, of some Lodges in Britain) have taken one turn, and this turn
is perfectly natural. In all countries there are men of licentious
morals. Such men wish to have a safe opportunity of indulging their
wits in satire and sarcasm; and they are pleased with the support
of others. The desire of making proselytes is in every breast--and
it is whetted by the restraints of society. And all countries have
discontented men, whose grumblings will raise discontent in others,
who might not have attended to some of the trifling hardships and
injuries they met with, had they not been reminded of them. To be
discontented, and not to think of schemes of redress, is what we
cannot think natural or manly--and where can such sentiments and
schemes find such safe utterance and such probable support as in a
secret society? Free Masonry is innocent of all these things; but
Free Masonry has been abused, and at last totally perverted--and
so will and must any such secret association, as long as men are
licentious in their opinions or wicked in their dispositions.
It were devoutly to be wished therefore that the whole fraternity
would imitate the truly benevolent conduct of those German Lodges
who have formally broken up, and made a patriotic sacrifice of
their amusement to the safety of the state. I cannot think the
sacrifice great or costly. It can be no difficult matter to find as
pleasing a way of passing a vacant hour--and the charitable deeds
of the members need not diminish in the smallest degree. Every
person's little circle of acquaintance will give him opportunities
of gratifying his kind dispositions, without the chance of being
mistaken in the worth of the person on whom he bestows his favours.
There is no occasion to go to St. Petersburg for a poor Brother, nor
to India for a convert to Christianity, as long as we see so many
sufferers and infidels among ourselves.
But not only are secret societies dangerous, but all societies whose
object is mysterious. The whole history of man is a proof of this
position. In no age or country has there ever appeared a mysterious
association which did not in time become a public nuisance.
Ingenious or designing men of letters have attempted to show that
some of the ancient mysteries were useful to mankind, containing
rational doctrines of natural religion. This was the strong hold of
Weishaupt, and he quotes the Eleusinian, the Pythagorean, and other
mysteries. But surely their external signs and tokens were every
thing that is shocking to decency and civil order. It is uncommon
presumption for the learned of the eighteenth century to pretend to
know more about them than their contemporaries, the philosophers,
the lawgivers of antiquity. These give no such account of them. I
would desire any person who admires the ingenious dissertations of
Dr. Warburton to read a dull German book, called _Caracteristik
der Mysterien der Altern_, published at Frankfort in 1787. The
author contents himself with a patient collection of every scrap
of every ancient author who has said any thing about them. If the
reader can see anything in them but the most absurd and immoral
polytheism and fable, he must take words in a sense that is useless
in reading any other piece of ancient composition. I have a notion
that the Dionysiacs of Iona had some scientific secrets, viz. all
the knowledge of practical mechanics which was employed by their
architects and engineers, and that they were really a Masonic
Fraternity. But, like the _Illuminati_, they tagged to the secrets
of Masonry the secret of drunkenness and debauchery; they had their
Sister Lodges, and at last became rebels, subverters of the states
where they were protected, till aiming at the dominion of all
Ionia, they were attacked by the neighbouring states and dispersed.
They were Illuminators too, and wanted to introduce the worship of
Bacchus over the whole country, as appears in the account of them
given by _Strabo_. Perhaps the Pythagoreans had also some scientific
secrets; but they too were Illuminators, and thought it their duty
to overset the State, and were themselves overset.
Nothing is so dangerous as a mystic Association. The object
remaining a secret in the hands of the managers, the rest simply
put a ring in their own noses, by which they may be led about at
pleasure; and still panting after the secret, they are the better
pleased the less they see of their way. A mystical object enables
the leader to shift his ground as he pleases, and to accommodate
himself to every current fashion or prejudice. This again gives him
almost unlimited power; for he can make use of these prejudices
to lead men by troops. He finds them already associated by their
prejudices, and waiting for a leader to concentrate their strength
and set them in motion. And when once great bodies of men are
set in motion, with a creature of their fancy for a guide, even
the engineer himself cannot say, "Thus far shalt thou go, and no
farther."
VII. We may also gather from what we have seen that all declamations
on universal philanthropy are dangerous. Their natural and
immediate effect on the mind is to increase the discontents of
the unfortunate, and of those in the laborious ranks of life. No
one, even of the Illuminators, will deny that those ranks must be
filled, if society exists in any degree of cultivation whatever,
and that there will always be a greater number of men who have no
farther prospect. Surely it is unkind to put such men continually
in mind of a state in which they might be at their ease; and it is
unkindness unmixed, because all the change that they will produce
will be, that James will serve John, who formerly was the servant of
James. Such declamations naturally tend to cause men to make light
of the obligations and duties of common patriotism, because these
are represented as subordinate and inferior to the greater and more
noble affection of universal benevolence. I do not pretend to say
that patriotism is founded in a rationally perceived pre-eminence
or excellence of the society with which we are connected. But if
it be a fact that society will not advance unless its members take
an interest in it, and that human nature improves only in society,
surely this interest should be cherished in every breast. Perhaps
national union arises from national animosity;--but they are
plainly distinguishable, and union is not necessarily productive of
injustice. The same arguments that have any force against patriotism
are equally good against the preference which natural instinct gives
parents for their children, and surely no one can doubt of the
propriety of maintaining this in its full force, subject however to
the precise laws of justice.
But I am in the wrong to adduce paternal or filial affection
in defence of patriotism and loyalty, since even those natural
instincts are reprobated by the _Illuminati_, as hostile to the
all-comprehending philanthropy. Mr. de la Metherie says, that
among the memorials sent from the clubs in England to the National
Assembly, he read two, (printed,) in which the Assembly was
requested to establish a community of wives, and to take children
from their parents and educate them for the nation. In full
compliance with this dictate of universal philanthropy, Weishaupt
would have murdered his own child and his concubine,--and Orleans
voted the death of his near relation.
Indeed, of all the consequences of Illumination, the most melancholy
is this revolution which it seems to operate in the heart of
man,--this forcible sacrifice of every affection of the heart to
an ideal divinity, a mere creature of the imagination.--It seems
a prodigy, yet it is a matter of experience, that the farther we
advance, or vainly suppose that we do advance, in the knowledge
of our mental powers, the more are our moral feelings flattened
and done away. I remember reading, long ago, a dissertation on
the nursing of infants by a French academician, Le Cointre of
Versailles. He indelicately supports his theories by the case of his
own son, a weak puny infant, whom his mother was obliged to keep
continually applied to her bosom, so that she rarely could get two
hours of sleep during the time of suckling him. Mr. Le Cointre says,
that she contracted for this infant "_une partialite toute-a-fait
deraisonable_."--Plato, or Socrates, or Cicero, would probably have
explained this by the habitual exercise of pity, a very endearing
emotion.--But our Academician, better illuminated, solves it by
stimuli on the _papillæ_ and on the nerves of the skin, and by the
meeting of the humifying _aura_, &c. and does not seem to think that
young Le Cointre was much indebted to his mother. It would amuse me
to learn that this was the wretch Le Cointre, Major of the National
Guards of Versailles, who countenanced and encouraged the shocking
treason and barbarity of those ruffians on the 5th and 6th of
October 1789. Complete freezing of the heart would (I think) be the
consequence of a theory which could perfectly explain the affections
by vibrations or crystallizations.--Nay, any very perfect theory of
moral sentiments must have something of this tendency.--Perhaps the
ancient systems of moral philosophy, which were chiefly searches
after the _summum bonum_, and systems of moral duties, tended more
to form and strengthen the heart, and produce a worthy man, than the
most perfect theory of modern times, which explains every phenomenon
by means of a nice anatomy of our affections.