prejudice or passion, fancy or affection, error and illusion, be not
mistaken for conscience. Nothing is more usual than to pretend
conscience in all the actions of man which are public and cannot be
concealed. The disobedient refuse to submit to the laws, and they also
in many cases pretend conscience; and so disobedience and rebellion
become conscience, in which there is neither knowledge nor revelation,
nor truth nor charity, nor reason nor religion. Conscience is tied to
laws. Right or sure conscience is right reason reduced to practice, and
conducting moral actions, while perverse conscience is seated in the
fancy or affections--a heap of irregular principles and irregular
defects--and is the same in conscience as deformity is in the body, or
peevishness in the affections. It is not enough that the conscience be
taught by nature; but it must be taught by God, conducted by reason,
made operative by discourse, assisted by choice, instructed by laws and
sober principles; and then it _is_ right, and it _may_ be sure. All the
general measures of justice, are the laws of God, and therefore they
constitute the general rules of government for the conscience; but
necessity also hath a large voice in the arrangement of human affairs,
and the disposal of human relations, and the dispositions of human laws;
and these general measures, like a great river into little streams, are
deduced into little rivulets and particularities, by the laws and
customs, by the sentences and agreements of men, and by the absolute
despotism of necessity, that will not allow perfect and abstract justice
and equity to be the sole rule of civil government in an imperfect
world; and that must needs be law which is for the greatest good of the
greatest number.
When thou vowest a vow unto God, defer not to pay it. It is better thou
shouldest not vow than thou shouldest vow and not pay. Be not rash with
thy mouth, and let not thine heart be hasty to utter anything before
God: for God is in Heaven, and thou art upon earth; therefore let thy
words be few. Weigh well what it is you promise; but once the promise
and pledge are given remember that he who is false to his obligation
will be false to his family, his friends, his country, and his God.
_Fides servanda est_: Faith plighted is ever to be kept, was a maxim and
an axiom even among pagans. The virtuous Roman said, either let not that
which seems expedient be base, or if it _be_ base, let it not seem
expedient. What is there which that so-called expediency can bring, so
valuable as that which it takes away, if it deprives you of the name of
a good man and robs you of your integrity and honor? In all ages, he who
violates his plighted word has been held unspeakably base. The word of a
Mason, like the word of a knight in the times of chivalry, once given
must be sacred; and the judgment of his brothers, upon him who violates
his pledge, should be stern as the judgments of the Roman Censors
against him who violated his oath. Good faith is revered among Masons as
it was among the Romans, who placed its statue in the capitol, next to
that of Jupiter Maximus Optimus; and we, like them, hold that calamity
should always be chosen rather than baseness; and with the knights of
old, that one should always die rather than be dishonored.
Be faithful, therefore, to the promises you make, to the pledges you
give, and to the vows that you assume, since to break either is base and
dishonorable.
Be faithful to your family, and perform all the duties of a good father,
a good son, a good husband, and a good brother.
Be faithful to your friends; for true friendship is of a nature not only
to survive through all the vicissitudes of life, but to continue through
an endless duration; not only to stand the shock of conflicting
opinions, and the roar of a revolution that shakes the world, but to
last when the heavens are no more, and to spring fresh from the ruins of
the universe.
Be faithful to your country, and prefer its dignity and honor to any
degree of popularity and honor for yourself; consulting its interest
rather than your own, and rather than the pleasure and gratification of
the people, which are often at variance with their welfare.
Be faithful to Masonry, which is to be faithful to the best interests of
mankind. Labor, by precept and example, to elevate the standard of
Masonic character, to enlarge its sphere of influence, to popularize its
teachings, and to make all men know it for the Great Apostle of Peace,
Harmony, and Good-will on earth among men; of Liberty, Equality, and
Fraternity.
Masonry is useful to all men: to the learned, because it affords them
the opportunity of exercising their talents upon subjects eminently
worthy of their attention; to the illiterate, because it offers them
important instruction; to the young, because it presents them with
salutary precepts and good examples, and accustoms them to reflect on
the proper mode of living; to the man of the world, whom it furnishes
with noble and useful recreation; to the traveller, whom it enables to
find friends and brothers in countries where else he would be isolated
and solitary; to the worthy man in misfortune, to whom it gives
assistance; to the afflicted, on whom it lavishes consolation; to the
charitable man, whom it enables to do more good, by uniting with those
who are charitable like himself; and to all who have souls capable of
appreciating its importance, and of enjoying the charms of a friendship
founded on the same principles of religion, morality, and philanthropy.
A Freemason, therefore, should be a man of honor and of conscience,
preferring his duty to everything beside, even to his life; independent
in his opinions, and of good morals; submissive to the laws, devoted to
humanity, to his country, to his family; kind and indulgent to his
brethren, friend of all virtuous men, and ready to assist his fellows by
all means in his power.
Thus will you be faithful to yourself, to your fellows, and to God, and
thus will you do honor to the name and rank of SECRET MASTER; which,
like other Masonic honors, degrades if it is not deserved.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
V.
PERFECT MASTER.
The Master Khūrūm was an industrious and an honest man. What he was
employed to do he did diligently, and he did it well and faithfully. _He
received no wages that were not his due_. Industry and honesty are the
virtues peculiarly inculcated in this Degree. They are common and homely
virtues; but not for that beneath our notice. As the bees do not love or
respect the drones, so Masonry neither loves nor respects the idle and
those who live by their wits; and least of all those parasitic acari
that live upon themselves. For those who are indolent are likely to
become dissipated and vicious; and perfect honesty, which ought to be
the common qualification of all, is more rare than diamonds. To do
earnestly and steadily, and to do faithfully and honestly that which we
have to do--perhaps this wants but little, when looked at from every
point of view, of including the whole body of the moral law; and even in
their commonest and homeliest application, these virtues belong to the
character of a Perfect Master.
Idleness is the burial of a living man. For an idle person is so useless
to any purposes of God and man, that he is like one who is dead,
unconcerned in the changes and necessities of the world; and he only
lives to spend his time, and eat the fruits of the earth. Like a vermin
or a wolf, when his time comes, he dies and perishes, and in the
meantime is nought. He neither ploughs nor carries burdens: all that he
does is either unprofitable or mischievous.
It is a vast work that any man may do, if he never be idle: and it is a
huge way that a man may go in virtue, if he never go out of his way by a
vicious habit or a great crime: and he who perpetually reads good
books, if his parts be answerable, will have a huge stock of knowledge.
St. Ambrose, and from his example, St. Augustine, divided every day into
these _tertias_ of employment: eight hours they spent in the necessities
of nature and recreation: eight hours in charity, in doing assistance to
others, dispatching their business, reconciling their enmities,
reproving their vices, correcting their errors, instructing their
ignorance, and in transacting the affairs of their dioceses; and the
other eight hours they spent in study and prayer.
We think, at the age of twenty, that life is much too long for that
which we have to learn and do; and that there is an almost fabulous
distance between our age and that of our grandfather. But when, at the
age of sixty, if we are fortunate enough to reach it, or unfortunate
enough, as the case may be, and according as we have profitably invested
or wasted our time, we halt, and look back along the way we have come,
and cast up and endeavor to balance our accounts with time and
opportunity, we find that we have made life much too short, and thrown
away a huge portion of our time. Then we, in our mind, deduct from the
sum total of our years the hours that we have needlessly passed in
sleep; the working-hours each day, during which the surface of the
mind's sluggish pool has not been stirred or ruffled by a single
thought; the days that we have gladly got rid of, to attain some real or
fancied object that lay beyond, in the way between us and which stood
irksomely the intervening days; the hours worse than wasted in follies
and dissipation, or misspent in useless and unprofitable studies; and we
acknowledge, with a sigh, that we could have learned and done, in half a
score of years well spent, more than we _have_ done in all our forty
years of manhood.
To learn and to do!--this is the soul's work here below. The soul grows
as truly as an oak grows. As the tree takes the carbon of the air, the
dew, the rain, and the light, and the food that the earth supplies to
its roots, and by its mysterious chemistry transmutes them into sap and
fibre, into wood and leaf, and flower and fruit, and color and perfume,
so the soul imbibes knowledge and by a divine alchemy changes what it
learns into its own substance, and grows from within outwardly with an
inherent force and power like those that lie hidden in the grain of
wheat.
The soul hath its senses, like the body, that may be cultivated,
enlarged, refined, as itself grows in stature and proportion; and he
who cannot appreciate a fine painting or statue, a noble poem, a sweet
harmony, a heroic thought, or a disinterested action, or to whom the
wisdom of philosophy is but foolishness and babble, and the loftiest
truths of less importance than the price of stocks or cotton, or the
elevation of baseness to office, merely lives on the level of
commonplace, and fitly prides himself upon that inferiority of the
soul's senses, which is the inferiority and imperfect development of the
soul itself.
To sleep little, and to study much; to say little, and to hear and think
much; to learn, that we may be able to do, and then to do, earnestly and
vigorously, whatever may be required of us by duty, and by the good of
our fellows, our country, and mankind,--these are the duties of every
Mason who desires to imitate the Master Khūrūm.
The duty of a Mason as an honest man is plain and easy. It requires of
us honesty in contracts, sincerity in affirming, simplicity in
bargaining, and faithfulness in performing. Lie not at all, neither in a
little thing nor in a great, neither in the substance nor in the
circumstance, neither in word nor deed: that is, pretend not what is
false; cover not what is true; and let the measure of your affirmation
or denial be the understanding of your contractor; for he who deceives
the buyer or the seller by speaking what is true, in a sense not
intended or understood by the other, is a liar and a thief. A Perfect
Master must avoid that which deceives, equally with that which is false.
Let your prices be according to that measure of good and evil which is
established in the fame and common accounts of the wisest and most
merciful men, skilled in that manufacture or commodity; and the gain
such, which, without scandal, is allowed to persons in all the same
circumstances.
In intercourse with others, do not do all which thou mayest lawfully do;
but keep something within thy power; and, because there is a latitude of
gain in buying and selling, take not thou the utmost penny that is
lawful, or which thou thinkest so; for although it be lawful, yet it is
not safe; and he who gains all that he can gain lawfully, this year,
will possibly be tempted, next year, to gain something unlawfully.
Let no man, for his own poverty, become more oppressing and cruel in his
bargain; but quietly, modestly, diligently, and patiently recommend his
estate to God, and follow his interest, and leave the success to Him.
Detain not the wages of the hireling; for every degree of detention of
it beyond the time, is injustice and uncharitableness, and grinds his
face till tears and blood come out; but pay him exactly according to
covenant, or according to his needs.
Religiously keep all promises and covenants, though made to your
disadvantage, though afterward you perceive you might have done better;
and let not any precedent act of yours be altered by any after-accident.
Let nothing make you break your promise, unless it be unlawful or
impossible; that is, either out of your nature or out of your civil
power, yourself being under the power of another; or that it be
intolerably inconvenient to yourself, and of no advantage to another; or
that you have leave expressed or reasonably presumed.
Let no man take wages or fees for a work that he cannot do, or cannot
with probability undertake; or in some sense profitably, and with ease,
or with advantage manage. Let no man appropriate to his own use, what
God, by a special mercy, or the Republic, hath made common; for that is
against both Justice and Charity.
That any man should be the worse for us, and for our direct act, and by
our intention, is against the rule of equity, of justice, and of
charity. We then do not that to others, which we would have done to
ourselves; for we grow richer upon the ruins of their fortune.
It is not honest to receive anything from another without returning him
an equivalent therefor. The gamester who wins the money of another is
dishonest. There should be no such thing as bets and gaming among
Masons: for no honest man should desire that for nothing which belongs
to another. The merchant who sells an inferior article for a sound
price, the speculator who makes the distresses and needs of others fill
his exchequer are neither fair nor honest, but base, ignoble, unfit for
immortality.
It should be the earnest desire of every Perfect Master so to live and
deal and act, that when it comes to him to die, he may be able to say,
and his conscience to adjudge, that no man on earth is poorer, because
he is richer; that what he hath he has honestly earned, and no man can
go before God, and claim that by the rules of equity administered in His
great chancery, this house in which we die, this land we devise to our
heirs, this money that enriches those who survive to bear our name, is
his and not ours, and we in that forum are only his trustees. For it is
most certain that God is just, and will sternly enforce every such
trust; and that to all whom we despoil, to all whom we defraud, to all
from whom we take or win anything whatever, without fair consideration
and equivalent, He will decree a full and adequate compensation.
Be careful, then, that thou receive no wages, here or elsewhere, that
are not thy due! For if thou dost, thou wrongst some one, by taking that
which in God's chancery belongs to him; and whether that which thou
takest thus be wealth, or rank, or influence, or reputation or
affection, thou wilt surely be held to make full satisfaction.
[Illustration] [Illustration]
VI.
INTIMATE SECRETARY.
[Confidential Secretary.]
You are especially taught in this Degree to be zealous and faithful; to
be disinterested and benevolent; and to act the peacemaker, in case of
dissensions, disputes, and quarrels among the brethren.
Duty is the moral magnetism which controls and guides the true Mason's
course over the tumultuous seas of life. Whether the stars of honor,
reputation, and reward do or do not shine, in the light of day or in the
darkness of the night of trouble and adversity, in calm or storm, that
unerring magnet still shows him the true course to steer, and indicates
with certainty where-away lies the port which not to reach involves
shipwreck and dishonor. He follows its silent bidding, as the mariner,
when land is for many days not in sight, and the ocean without path or
landmark spreads out all around him, follows the bidding of the needle,
never doubting that it points truly to the north. To perform that duty,
whether the performance be rewarded or unrewarded, is his sole care. And
it doth not matter, though of this performance there may be no
witnesses, and though what he does will be forever unknown to all
mankind.
A little consideration will teach us that Fame has other limits than
mountains and oceans; and that he who places happiness in the frequent
repetition of his name, may spend his life in propagating it, without
any danger of weeping for new worlds, or necessity of passing the
Atlantic sea.
If, therefore, he who imagines the world to be filled with his actions
and praises, shall subduct from the number of his encomiasts all those
who are placed below the flight of fame, and who hear in the valley of
life no voice but that of necessity; all those who imagine themselves
too important to regard him, and consider the mention of his name as a
usurpation of their time; all who are too much or too little pleased
with themselves to attend to anything external; all who are attracted by
pleasure, or chained down by pain to unvaried ideas; all who are
withheld from attending his triumph by different pursuits; and all who
slumber in universal negligence; he will find his renown straitened by
nearer bounds than the rocks of Caucasus; and perceive that no man can
be venerable or formidable, but to a small part of his fellow-creatures.
And therefore, that we may not languish in our endeavors after
excellence, it is necessary that, as Africanus counsels his descendants,
we raise our eyes to higher prospects, and contemplate our future and
eternal state, without giving up our hearts to the praise of crowds, or
fixing our hopes on such rewards as human power can bestow.
We are not born for ourselves alone; and our country claims her share,
and our friends their share of us. As all that the earth produces is
created for the use of man, so men are created for the sake of men, that
they may mutually do good to one another. In this we ought to take
nature for our guide, and throw into the public stock the offices of
general utility, by a reciprocation of duties; sometimes by receiving,
sometimes by giving, and sometimes to cement human society by arts, by
industry, and by our resources.
Suffer others to be praised in thy presence, and entertain their good
and glory with delight; but at no hand disparage them, or lessen the
report, or make an objection; and think not the advancement of thy
brother is a lessening of thy worth. Upbraid no man's weakness to him to
discomfit him, neither report it to disparage him, neither delight to
remember it to lessen him, or to set thyself above him; nor ever praise
thyself or dispraise any man else, unless some sufficient worthy end do
hallow it.
Remember that we usually disparage others upon slight grounds and little
instances; and if a man be highly commended, we think him sufficiently
lessened, if we can but charge one sin of folly or inferiority in his
account. We should either be more severe to ourselves, or less so to
others, and consider that whatsoever good any one can think or say of
us, we can tell him of many unworthy and foolish and perhaps worse
actions of ours, any one of which, done by another, would be enough,
with _us_, to destroy his reputation.
If we think the people wise and sagacious, and just and appreciative,
when they praise and make idols of _us_, let us not call them unlearned
and ignorant, and ill and stupid judges, when our neighbor is cried up
by public fame and popular noises.
Every man hath in his own life sins enough, in his own mind trouble
enough, in his own fortunes evil enough, and in performance of his
offices failings more than enough, to entertain his own inquiry; so that
curiosity after the affairs of others cannot be without envy and an ill
mind. The generous man will be solicitous and inquisitive into the
beauty and order of a well-governed family, and after the virtues of an
excellent person; but anything for which men keep locks and bars, or
that blushes to see the light, or that is either shameful in manner or
private in nature, this thing will not be his care and business.
It should be objection sufficient to exclude any man from the society of
Masons, that he is not disinterested and generous, both in his acts, and
in his opinions of men, and his constructions of their conduct. He who
is selfish and grasping, or censorious and ungenerous, will not long
remain within the strict limits of honesty and truth, but will shortly
commit injustice. He who loves himself too much must needs love others
too little; and he who habitually gives harsh judgment will not long
delay to give unjust judgment.
The generous man is not careful to return no more than he receives; but
prefers that the balances upon the ledgers of benefits shall be in his
favor. He who hath received pay in full for all the benefits and favors
that he has conferred, is like a spendthrift who has consumed his whole
estate, and laments over an empty exchequer. He who requites my favors
with ingratitude adds to, instead of diminishing, my wealth; and he who
cannot return a favor is equally poor, whether his inability arises from
poverty of spirit, sordidness of soul, or pecuniary indigence.
If he is wealthy who hath large sums invested, and the mass of whose
fortune consists in obligations that bind other men to pay him money, he
is still more so to whom many owe large returns of kindnesses and
favors. Beyond a moderate sum each year, the wealthy man merely
_invests_ his means: and that which he _never_ uses is still like
favors unreturned and kindnesses unreciprocated, an actual and real
portion of his fortune.
Generosity and a liberal spirit make men to be humane and genial,
open-hearted, frank, and sincere, earnest to do good, easy and
contented, and well-wishers of mankind. They protect the feeble against
the strong, and the defenceless against rapacity and craft. They succor
and comfort the poor, and are the guardians, under God, of his innocent
and helpless wards. They value friends more than riches or fame, and
gratitude more than money or power. They are noble by God's patent, and
their escutcheons and quarterings are to be found in heaven's great book
of heraldry. Nor can any man any more be a Mason than he can be a
gentleman, unless he is generous, liberal, and disinterested. To be
liberal, but only of that which is our own; to be generous, but only
when we have first been just; to give, when to give deprives us of a
luxury or a comfort, this is Masonry indeed.
He who is worldly, covetous, or sensual must change before he can be a
good Mason. If we are governed by inclination and not by duty; if we are
unkind, severe, censorious, or injurious, in the relations or
intercourse of life; if we are unfaithful parents or undutiful children;
if we are harsh masters or faithless servants; if we are treacherous
friends or bad neighbors or bitter competitors or corrupt unprincipled
politicians or overreaching dealers in business, we are wandering at a
great distance from the true Masonic light.
Masons must be kind and affectionate one to another. Frequenting the
same temples, kneeling at the same altars, they should feel that respect
and that kindness for each other, which their common relation and common
approach to one God should inspire. There needs to be much more of the
spirit of the ancient fellowship among us; more tenderness for each
other's faults, more forgiveness, more solicitude for each other's
improvement and good fortune; somewhat of brotherly feeling, that it be
not shame to use the word "_brother_."