Part 21 (1/2)

Master: One by one they pa.s.s away--the brothers of our adoption, the companions of our choice. A brother whose hand we have clasped in the bonds of fraternal fellows.h.i.+p now lies before us in the rigid embrace of death. All that remains of one near and dear to us is pa.s.sing from our sight, and we know that we shall meet him on earth no more.

We, who knew him so well in our brotherhood, feel that in his departure from among the living, something has gone out of our own lives that can never be again. Thus, as human ties are broken, the world becomes less and less, and the hope to be reunited with friends who are gone, grows more and more. Here is immediate compensation, which, while it cannot a.s.suage our grief, may teach resignation to the inevitable doom of all things mortal.

While we stand around the open grave, in the presence of a body once, and so lately, warm with life and animate with thought, now lingering for a brief moment at the dark portal of the tomb--like a beam of holy light the belief must come, this cannot be all there is of day. Stricken human nature cries out: There must be a dawn beyond this darkness and a never setting sun, while this short life is but a morning star.

The cycles of Time roll with the procession of seasons. Spring is bloom; summer is growth; autumn is fruition; winter is the shroud, and beneath its cold, yet kindly fold, live the germs of a new life. Spring comes again; growth matures, and fruit is eternal. This is the religion and lesson of Nature, and the universal example cannot fail in relation to man. Let us draw comfort and consolation from things visible in this sad scene, and lift our eyes to the invisible Father of all with renewed faith that we are in His Holy Hands. Besides His infinitude of worlds, we have also His word, ”That He is All, and All-upholding.”

We can do nothing for the dead. We can only offer respect to our brother's inanimate clay, and cherish his memory in the abiding faith that our temporary loss is his eternal gain. In this belief let us commit him with due reverence to the keeping of the All-Father, who is supreme in wisdom, infinite in love, and ordereth all things well.

(Family service to be omitted in case no relatives of the deceased are present.)

While we pay this tribute of respect and love to the memory of our late brother, let us not forget to extend our fraternal sympathy to his deeply afflicted and sorrowing family (wife, children, father, mother, brothers, sisters, as the relatives may be present): In your irreparable bereavement, and as he, for whom we are all mourners, was true to us, and faithful to the ties of our brotherhood, so shall we be true to you in the practice of the principles of Freemasonry and in tender memory of our loved and lost. He gave much of his time to us in devotion to our cause. We owe a grateful acknowledgement to you for his social companions.h.i.+p and service, and mingle our sorrows at parting with yours, his near and dear relations.

Master: ”May we be true and faithful; and may we live and die in love!”

Response: ”So mote it be.”

Master: ”May we profess what is good, and always act agreeably to our profession!”

Response: ”So mote it be.”

Master: ”May the Lord bless us and prosper us, and may all our good intentions be crowned with success.”

Response: ”So mote it be.”

The ap.r.o.n is taken from the coffin and handed to the Master; and while the coffin is being lowered into the grave, either of the following funeral dirges may be sung--the one used, to be selected and announced before leaving the lodge-room:

Funeral Dirge.

Air--Pleyel's Hymn.

Solemn strikes the funeral 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 slumber of the grave!

Here another guest we bring; Seraphs of celestial wing, To our funeral altar come, Waft our friend and brother home.

Lord of all! below--above-- Fill our hearts with truth and love; When dissolves our earthly tie, Take us to Thy lodge on high.

Hark, From the Tombs.

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?