this world, believes also that He governs it by laws, which, though
wise, just, and beneficent, are yet steady, unwavering, inexorable. He
believes that his agonies and sorrows are ordained for _his_ chastening,
_his_ strengthening, _his_ elaboration and development; because they are
the necessary results of the operation of laws, the best that could be
devised for the happiness and purification of the species, and to give
occasion and opportunity for the practice of all the virtues, from the
homeliest and most common, to the noblest and most sublime; or perhaps
not even that, but the best adapted to work out the vast, awful,
glorious, eternal designs of the Great Spirit of the Universe. He
believes that the ordained operations of nature, which have brought
misery to him, have, from the very unswerving tranquility of their
career, showered blessings and sunshine upon many another path; that the
unrelenting chariot of Time, which has crushed or maimed him in its
allotted course, is pressing onward to the accomplishment of those
serene and mighty purposes, to have contributed to which, even as a
victim, is an honor and a recompense. He takes this view of Time and
Nature and God, and yet bears his lot without murmur or distrust;
because it is a portion of a system, the best possible, because ordained
by God. He does not believe that God loses sight of _him_, while
superintending the march of the great harmonies of the Universe; nor
that it was not foreseen, when the Universe was created, its laws
enacted, and the long succession of its operations pre-ordained, that in
the great march of those events, he would suffer pain and undergo
calamity. He believes that his individual good entered into God's
consideration, as well as the great cardinal results to which the course
of all things is tending.
Thus believing, he has attained an eminence in virtue, the highest, amid
_passive_ excellence, which humanity can reach. He finds his reward and
his support in the reflection that he is an unreluctant and
self-sacrificing co-operator with the Creator of the Universe; and in
the noble consciousness of being worthy and capable of so sublime a
conception, yet so sad a destiny. He is then truly entitled to be
called a Grand Elect, Perfect, and Sublime Mason. He is content to fall
early in the battle, if his body may but form a stepping-stone for the
future conquests of humanity.
It cannot be that God, Who, we are certain, is perfectly good, can
choose us to suffer pain, unless either we are ourselves to receive from
it an antidote to what is evil in ourselves, or else as such pain is a
necessary part in the scheme of the Universe, which as a whole is good.
In either case, the Mason receives it with submission. He would not
suffer unless it was ordered so. Whatever his creed, if he believes that
God is, and that He cares for His creatures, he cannot doubt that; nor
that it would not have been so ordered, unless it was either better for
himself, or for some other persons, or for some things. To complain and
lament is to murmur against God's will, and worse than unbelief.
The Mason, whose mind is cast in a nobler mould than those of the
ignorant and unreflecting, and is instinct with a diviner life,--who
loves truth more than rest, and the peace of Heaven rather than the
peace of Eden,--to whom a loftier being brings severer cares,--who knows
that man does not live by pleasure or content alone, but by the presence
of the power of God,--must cast behind him the hope of any other repose
or tranquillity, than that which is the last reward of long agonies of
thought; he must relinquish all prospect of any Heaven save that of
which trouble is the avenue and portal; he must gird up his loins, and
trim his lamp, for a work that must be done, and must not be negligently
done. If he does not like to live in the furnished lodgings of
tradition, he must build his own house, his own system of faith and
thought, for himself.
The hope of success, and not the hope of reward, should be our
stimulating and sustaining power. Our object, and not ourselves, should
be our inspiring thought. Selfishness is a sin, when temporary, and for
time. Spun out to eternity, it does not become celestial prudence. We
should toil and die, not for Heaven or Bliss, but for Duty.
In the more frequent cases, where we have to join our efforts to those
of thousands of others, to contribute to the carrying forward of a great
cause; merely to till the ground or sow the seed for a very distant
harvest, or to prepare the way for the future advent of some great
amendment; the amount which each one contributes to the achievement of
ultimate success, the portion of the price which justice should assign
to each as his especial production, can never be accurately ascertained.
Perhaps few of those who have ever labored, in the patience of secrecy
and silence, to bring about some political or social change, which they
felt convinced would ultimately prove of vast service to humanity, lived
to see the change effected, or the anticipated good flow from it. Fewer
still of them were able to pronounce what appreciable weight their
several efforts contributed to the achievement of the change desired.
Many will doubt, whether, in truth, these exertions have any influence
whatever; and, discouraged, cease all active effort.
Not to be thus discouraged, the Mason must labor to elevate and purify
his _motives_, as well as sedulously cherish the conviction, assuredly a
true one, that in this world there is no such thing as effort thrown
away; that in all labor there is profit; that all sincere exertion, in a
righteous and unselfish cause, is _necessarily_ followed, in spite of
all appearance to the contrary, by an appropriate and proportionate
success; that _no_ bread cast upon the waters can be wholly lost; that
_no_ seed planted in the ground can fail to quicken in due time and
measure; and that, however we may, in moments of despondency, be apt to
doubt, not only whether our cause will triumph, but whether, if it does,
we shall have contributed to its triumph,--there is One, Who has not
only seen every exertion we have made, but Who can assign the exact
degree in which each soldier has assisted to gain the great victory over
social evil. No good work is done wholly in vain.
The Grand Elect, Perfect, and Sublime Mason will in nowise deserve that
honorable title, if he has not that strength, that will, that
self-sustaining energy; that Faith, that feeds upon no earthly hope, nor
ever thinks of victory, but, content in its own consummation, combats
because it ought to combat, rejoicing fights, and still rejoicing falls.
The Augean Stables of the World, the accumulated uncleanness and misery
of centuries, require a mighty river to cleanse them thoroughly away;
every drop we contribute aids to swell that river and augment its force,
in a degree appreciable by God, though not by man; and he whose zeal is
deep and earnest, will not be over-anxious that his individual drops
should be distinguishable amid the mighty mass of cleansing and
fertilizing waters; far less that, for the sake of distinction, it
should flow in ineffective singleness away.
The true Mason will not be careful that his name should be inscribed
upon the mite which he casts into the treasury of God. It suffices him
to know that if he has labored, with purity of purpose, in any good
cause, he _must_ have contributed to its success; that the _degree_ in
which he has contributed is a matter of infinitely small concern; and
still more, that the consciousness of having so contributed, however
obscurely and unnoticed, is his sufficient, even if it be his sole,
reward. Let every Grand Elect, Perfect, and Sublime Mason cherish this
faith. It is a duty. It is the brilliant and never-dying light that
shines within and through the symbolic pedestal of alabaster, on which
reposes the perfect cube of agate, symbol of duty, inscribed with the
divine name of God. He who industriously sows and reaps is a good
laborer, and worthy of his hire. But he who sows that which shall be
reaped by others, by those who will know not of and care not for the
sower, is a laborer of a nobler order, and, worthy of a more excellent
reward.
The Mason does not exhort others to an ascetic undervaluing of this
life, as an insignificant and unworthy portion of existence; for that
demands feelings which are unnatural, and which, therefore, if attained,
must be morbid, and if merely professed, insincere; and teaches us to
look rather to a future life for the compensation of social evils, than
to this life for their cure; and so does injury to the cause of virtue
and to that of social progress. Life is real, and is earnest, and it is
full of duties to be performed. It is the beginning of our immortality.
Those only who feel a deep interest and affection for this world will
work resolutely for its amelioration; those whose affections are
transferred to Heaven, easily acquiesce in the miseries of earth,
deeming them hopeless, befitting, and ordained; and console themselves
with the idea of the amends which are one day to be theirs. It is a sad
truth, that those most decidedly given to spiritual contemplation, and
to making religion rule in their hearts, are often most apathetic toward
all improvement of this world's systems, and in many cases virtual
conservatives of evil, and hostile to political and social reform, as
diverting men's energies from eternity.
The Mason does not war with his own instincts, macerate the body into
weakness and disorder, and disparage what he sees to be beautiful,
knows to be wonderful, and feels to be unspeakably dear and fascinating.
He does not put aside the nature which God has given him, to struggle
after one which He has _not_ bestowed. He knows that man is sent into
the world, not a spiritual, but a composite being, made up of body and
mind, the body having, as is fit and needful in a material world, its
full, rightful, and allotted share. His life is guided by a full
recognition of this fact. He does not deny it in bold words, and admit
it in weaknesses and inevitable failings. He believes that his
spirituality will come in the next stage of his being, when he puts on
the spiritual body; that his body will be dropped at death; and that,
until then, God meant it to be commanded and controlled, but not
neglected, despised, or ignored by the soul, under pain of heavy
consequences.
Yet the Mason is not indifferent as to the fate of the soul, after its
present life, as to its continued and eternal being, and the character
of the scenes in which that being will be fully developed. These are to
him topics of the profoundest interest, and the most ennobling and
refining contemplation. They occupy much of his leisure; and as he
becomes familiar with the sorrows and calamities of this life, as his
hopes are disappointed and his visions of happiness here fade away; when
life has wearied him in its race of hours; when he is harassed and
toil-worn, and the burden of his years weighs heavy on him, the balance
of attraction gradually inclines in favor of another life; and he clings
to his lofty speculations with a tenacity of interest which needs no
injunction, and will listen to no prohibition. They are the consoling
privilege of the aspiring, the wayworn, the weary, and the bereaved.
To him the contemplation of the Future lets in light upon the Present,
and develops the higher portions of his nature. He endeavors rightly to
adjust the respective claims of Heaven and earth upon his time and
thought, so as to give the proper proportions thereof to performing the
duties and entering into the interests of this world, and to preparation
for a better; to the cultivation and purification of his own character,
and to the public service of his fellow-men.
The Mason does not dogmatize, but entertaining and uttering his own
convictions, he leaves everyone else free to do the same; and only hopes
that the time will come, even if after the lapse of ages, when all men
shall form one great family of brethren, and one law alone, the law of
love, shall govern God's whole Universe.
Believe as you may, my brother; if the Universe is not, to you, without
a God, and if man is not like the beast that perishes, but hath an
immortal soul, we welcome you among us, to wear, as we wear, with
humility, and conscious of your demerits and shortcomings, the title of
Grand Elect, Perfect, and Sublime Mason.
It was not without a secret meaning, that _twelve_ was the number of the
Apostles of Christ, and _seventy-two_ that of his Disciples: that John
addressed his rebukes and menaces to the _Seven_ churches, the number of
the Archangels and the Planets. At Babylon were the Seven Stages of
Bersippa, a pyramid of Seven stories, and at Ecbatana Seven concentric
inclosures, each of a different color. Thebes also had Seven gates, and
the same number is repeated again and again in the account of the flood.
The Sephiroth, or Emanations, _ten_ in number, three in one class, and
seven in the other, repeat the mystic numbers of Pythagoras. Seven
Amschaspands or planetary spirits were invoked with Ormuzd: Seven
inferior Rishis of Hindustan were saved with the head of their family in
an ark: and Seven ancient personages alone returned with the British
just man, Hu, from the dale of the grievous waters. There were Seven
Heliadæ, whose father Helias, or the Sun, once crossed the sea in a
golden cup; Seven Titans, children of the older Titan, Kronos or Saturn;
Seven Corybantes; and Seven Cabiri, sons of Sydyk; Seven primeval
Celestial spirits of the Japanese, and Seven Karfesters who escaped from
the deluge and began to be the parents of a new race, on the summit of
Mount Albordi. Seven Cyclopes, also, built the walls of Tiryus.
Celsus, as quoted by Origen, tells us that the Persians represented by
symbols the two-fold motion of the stars, fixed and planetary, and the
passage of the Soul through their successive spheres. They erected in
their holy caves, in which the mystic rites of the Mithriac Initiations
were practised, what he denominates a high _ladder_, on the Seven steps
of which were Seven gates or portals, according to the number of the
Seven principal heavenly bodies. Through these the aspirants passed,
until they reached the summit of the whole; and this passage was styled
a transmigration through the spheres.
Jacob saw in his dream a _ladder_ planted or set on the earth, and its
top reaching to Heaven, and the Malaki Alohim ascending and descending
on it, and above it stood IHUH, declaring Himself to be Ihuh-Alhi
Abraham. The word translated _ladder_, is [Hebrew: סלם] _Salam_, from
[Hebrew: סלל], _Salal_, raised, elevated, reared up, exalted, piled up
into a heap, _Aggeravit_. [Hebrew: סללה] Salalah, means a heap, rampart,
or other accumulation of earth or stone, artificially made; and [Hebrew:
סלע], _Salaa_ or _Salo_, is a rock or cliff or boulder, and the name of
the city of Petra. There is no ancient Hebrew word to designate a
pyramid.
The symbolic mountain Meru was ascended by Seven steps or stages; and
all the pyramids and artificial tumuli and hillocks thrown up in flat
countries were imitations of this fabulous and mystic mountain, for
purposes of worship. These were the "High Places" so often mentioned in
the Hebrew books, on which the idolaters sacrificed to foreign gods.
The pyramids were sometimes square, and sometimes round. The sacred
Babylonian tower [[Hebrew: מגדל], Magdol], dedicated to the great Father
Bal, was an artificial hill, of pyramidal shape, and Seven stages, built
of brick, and each stage of a different color, representing the Seven
planetary spheres by the appropriate color of each planet. Meru itself
was said to be a single mountain, terminating in three peaks, and thus a
symbol of the Trimurti. The great Pagoda at Tanjore was of six stories,
surmounted by a temple as the seventh, and on this three spires or
towers. An ancient pagoda at Deogur was surmounted by a tower,
sustaining the mystic egg and a trident. Herodotus tells us that the
Temple of Bal at Babylon was a tower composed of Seven towers, resting
on an eighth that served as basis, and successively diminishing in size
from the bottom to the top; and Strabo tells us it was a pyramid.
Faber thinks that the Mithriac _ladder_ was really a pyramid with Seven
stages, each provided with a narrow door or aperture, through each of
which doors the aspirant passed, to reach the summit, and then descended
through similar doors on the opposite side of the pyramid; the ascent
and descent of the Soul being thus represented.
Each Mithriac cave and all the most ancient temples were intended to
symbolize the Universe, which itself was habitually called the Temple
and habitation of Deity. Every temple was the world in miniature; and
so the whole world was one grand temple. The most ancient temples were
roofless; and therefore the Persians, Celts, and Scythians strongly
disliked artificial covered edifices. Cicero says that Xerxes burned the
Grecian temples, on the express ground that the whole world was the
Magnificent Temple and Habitation of the Supreme Deity. Macrobius says
that the entire Universe was judiciously deemed by many the Temple of
God. Plato pronounced the real Temple of the Deity to be the world; and
Heraclitus declared that the Universe, variegated with animals and
plants and stars was the only genuine Temple of the Divinity.
How completely the Temple of Solomon was symbolic, is manifest, not only
from the continual reproduction in it of the sacred numbers and of
astrological symbols in the historical descriptions of it; but also, and
yet more, from the details of the imaginary reconstructed edifice, seen
by Ezekiel in his vision. The Apocalypse completes the demonstration,
and shows the kabalistic meanings of the whole. The Symbola
Architectonica are found on the most ancient edifices; and these
mathematical figures and instruments, adopted by the Templars, and
identical with those on the gnostic seals and abraxæ, connect their
dogma with the Chaldaic, Syriac, and Egyptian Oriental philosophy. The
secret Pythagorean doctrines of numbers were preserved by the monks of
Thibet, by the Hierophants of Egypt and Eleusis, at Jerusalem, and in
the circular Chapters of the Druids; and they are especially consecrated
in that mysterious book, the Apocalypse of Saint John.
All temples were surrounded by pillars, recording the number of the
constellations, the signs of the zodiac, or the cycles of the planets;
and each one was a microcosm or symbol of the Universe, having for roof
or ceiling the starred vault of Heaven.
All temples were originally open at the top, having for roof the sky.
Twelve pillars described the belt of the zodiac. Whatever the number of
the pillars, they were mystical everywhere. At Abury, the Druidic temple
reproduced all the cycles by its columns. Around the temples of
Chilminar in Persia, of Baalbec, and of Tukhti Schlomoh in Tartary, on
the frontier of China, stood _forty_ pillars. On each side of the temple
at Pæstum were fourteen, recording the Egyptian cycle of the dark and
light sides of the moon, as described by Plutarch; the whole
thirty-eight that surrounded them recording the two meteoric cycles so
often found in the Druidic temples.
The theatre built by Scaurus, in Greece, was surrounded by 360 columns;
the Temple at Mecca, and that at Iona in Scotland by 360 stones.
[Illustration]
MORALS AND DOGMA
CHAPTER OF ROSE CROIX
[Illustration]
XV.
KNIGHT OF THE EAST OR OF THE SWORD.
[Knight of the East, of the Sword, or of the Eagle.]
This Degree, like all others in Masonry, is symbolical. Based upon
historical truth and authentic tradition, it is still an allegory. The
leading lesson of this Degree is Fidelity to obligation, and Constancy
and Perseverance under difficulties and discouragement.
Masonry is engaged in her crusade,--against ignorance, intolerance,
fanaticism, superstition, uncharitableness, and error. She does not sail
with the trade-winds, upon a smooth sea, with a steady free breeze, fair
for a welcoming harbor; but meets and must overcome many opposing
currents, baffling winds, and dead calms.
The chief obstacles to her success are the apathy and faithlessness of
her own selfish children, and the supine indifference of the world. In
the roar and crush and hurry of life and business, and the tumult and
uproar of politics, the quiet voice of Masonry is unheard and unheeded.
The first lesson which one learns, who engages in any great work of
reform or beneficence, is, that men are essentially careless, lukewarm,
and indifferent as to everything that does not concern their own
personal and immediate welfare. It is to single men, and not to the
united efforts of many, that all the great works of man, struggling
toward perfection, are owing. The enthusiast, who imagines that he can
inspire with his own enthusiasm the multitude that eddies around him, or
even the few who have associated themselves with him as co-workers, is
grievously mistaken; and most often the conviction of his own mistake is
followed by discouragement and disgust. To do all, to pay all, and to
suffer all, and then, when despite all obstacles and hindrances, success
is accomplished, and a great work done, to see those who opposed or
looked coldly on it, claim and reap all the praise and reward, is the
common and almost universal lot of the benefactor of his kind.
He who endeavors to serve, to benefit, and improve the world, is like a
swimmer, who struggles against a rapid current, in a river lashed into
angry waves by the winds. Often they roar over his head, often they beat
him back and baffle him. Most men yield to the stress of the current,
and float with it to the shore, or are swept over the rapids; and only
here and there the stout, strong heart and vigorous arms struggle on
toward ultimate success.
It is the motionless and stationary that most frets and impedes the
current of progress; the solid rock or stupid dead tree, rested firmly
on the bottom, and around which the river whirls and eddies: the Masons
that doubt and hesitate and are discouraged; that disbelieve in the
capability of man to improve; that are not disposed to toil and labor
for the interest and well-being of general humanity; that expect others
to do all, even of that which they do not oppose or ridicule; while they
sit, applauding and doing nothing, or perhaps prognosticating failure.
There were many such at the rebuilding of the Temple. There were
prophets of evil and misfortune--the lukewarm and the indifferent and
the apathetic; those who stood by and sneered; and those who thought
they did God service enough if they now and then faintly applauded.
There were ravens croaking ill omen, and murmurers who preached the
folly and futility of the attempt. The world is made up of such; and
they were as abundant then as they are now.
But gloomy and discouraging as was the prospect, with lukewarmness
within and bitter opposition without, our ancient brethren persevered.
Let us leave them engaged in the good work, and whenever to us, as to
them, success is uncertain, remote, and contingent, let us still
remember that the only question for us to ask, as true men and Masons,
is, what does duty require; and not what will be the result and our
reward if we do our duty. Work on with the Sword in one hand, and the
Trowel in the other!
Masonry teaches that God is a Paternal Being, and has an interest in his
creatures, such as is expressed in the title _Father_; an interest
unknown to all the systems of Paganism, untaught in all the theories of
philosophy; an interest not only in the glorious beings of other
spheres, the Sons of Light, the dwellers in Heavenly worlds, but in us,
poor, ignorant, and unworthy; that He has pity for the erring, pardon
for the guilty, love for the pure, knowledge for the humble, and
promises of immortal life for those who trust in and obey Him.
Without a belief in Him, life is miserable, the world is dark, the
Universe disrobed of its splendors, the intellectual tie to nature
broken, the charm of existence dissolved, the great hope of being lost;
and the mind, like a star struck from its sphere, wanders through the
infinite desert of its conceptions, without attraction, tendency,
destiny, or end.
Masonry teaches, that, of all the events and actions, that take place in
the universe of worlds and the eternal succession of ages, there is not
one, even the minutest, which God did not forever foresee, with all the
distinctness of immediate vision, combining all, so that man's free will
should be His instrument, like all the other forces of nature.