Part 20 (1/2)

What, then, are all the externals of human dignity--the power of wealth, the dreams of ambition, the pride of intellect, or the charms of beauty--when Nature has paid her just debt? Fix your eyes on the last sad scene, and view life stripped of its ornaments, and exposed in its natural weakness, and you must be persuaded of the utter emptiness of these delusions. In the grave, all fallacies are detected, all ranks are leveled, all distinctions are done away. Here the scepter of the prince and the staff of the beggar are laid side by side.

Our present meeting and proceedings will have been vain and useless, if they fail to excite our serious reflections, and strengthen our resolutions of amendment.

Be then persuaded, my brethren, by this example of the uncertainty of human life, of the unsubstantial nature of all its pursuits, and no longer postpone the all-important concern of preparing for eternity. Let us each embrace the present moment, and while time and opportunity permit, prepare for that great change when the pleasures of the world be as a poison to our lips, and the happy reflections consequent upon a well-spent life afford the only consolation.

Thus shall our hopes be not frustrated, nor we be hurried unprepared into the presence of that all-wise and powerful Judge, to whom the secrets of all hearts are known. Let us resolve to maintain with sincerity the dignified character of our profession. May our Faith be evinced in a correct moral walk and deportment; may our Hope be bright as the glorious mysteries that will be revealed hereafter; and our Charity boundless as the wants of our fellow-creatures. And, having faithfully discharged the great duties which we owe to G.o.d, to our neighbor, and to ourselves, when at last it shall please the Grand Master of the Universe to summon us into His eternal presence, may the Trestle-board of our whole lives pa.s.s such inspection that it may be given unto each of us to ”eat of the hidden manna,” and to receive the ”white stone with a new name” that will insure perpetual and unspeakable happiness at His right hand.

The Lambskin being removed from the coffin, the Master holds it up and says:

W. M.: The Lambskin, or white leathern Ap.r.o.n, is an emblem of innocence and the badge of a Mason; more ancient than the Golden Fleece or Roman Eagle; more honorable than Star and Garter, when worthily worn. This emblem I now deposit in the grave of our deceased brother. [Deposits it.] By it we are reminded of that purity of life and conduct so essentially necessary to gaining admission to the Celestial Lodge above, where the Supreme Architect of the Universe presides.

The mattock, the coffin, and the melancholy grave admonish us of our mortality, and that, sooner or later, these frail bodies must moulder in their parent dust.

The Master, holding the evergreen, continues:

This evergreen, which once marked the temporary resting-place of the ill.u.s.trious dead, is an emblem of our faith in the immortality of the soul. By it we are reminded that we have an immortal part within us, that shall survive the grave, and which shall never, never, never die.

By it we are admonished that, though, like our brother whose remains lie before us, we shall soon be clothed in the habiliments of death, and deposited in the silent tomb, yet, through our belief in the mercy of G.o.d, we may confidently hope that our souls will bloom in eternal spring. This, too, I deposit in the grave.

The brethren then move in procession round the place of interment, and severally drop the sprig of evergreen into the grave, during which the following may be sung:

Funeral Dirge.

Hark! from the tombs a doleful sound!

Mine ears attend the cry: ”Ye living men, come view the ground Where you must shortly lie.

”Princes! this clay must be your bed, In spite of all your towers; The tall, the wise, the reverend head, Must lie as low as ours.”

Great G.o.d! Is this our certain doom?

And are we still secure?

Still walking downward to the tomb, And yet prepared no more?

Grant us the power of quick'ning grace, To fit our souls to fly; Then, when we drop this dying flesh, We'll rise above the sky.

Or the following:

Pleyel's Hymn.

Solemn strikes the fun'ral chime, Notes of our departing time; As we journey here below Through a pilgrimage of woe.

Mortals, now indulge a tear, For mortality is here!

See how wide her trophies wave O'er the slumbers of the grave!

Here another guest we bring!

Seraphs of celestial wing, To our funeral altar come, Waft our friend and brother home.