F 37 1%0Z:1 ST WZITII 1,1=L3T0.11.]
Q ocaozlayia),)
-"With sweetest flowersenrieled,
From various cardens with care."
THE POLAR STAR.
POLAR STA R of Life's dark seat
All unknowing how to steer,
Saviour. I would look to Thee;
O'er the watery, waste appear,
Let no cloud obscure my light;
Make my onward pathivay bright.
O'er the rolling billows shine;
Faith to Theo her eye will turn,.
Though the stormy night be mine,
If my Beacon I discern,
If my Guiding Star appear,
I shall quickly lose my fear.
Though the foaming billows rise,
I shall scarce their threatening see,
If I turn me to the skies,
If I fix my gaze on Thee;
Guiding Star, oh, give Thy light!
Lead me through the stormy night!
9.VErB ElaiTElEti?"-91135..70
W-The following., interesting article. taken from the
New Nlunthly'Magazine, weextram front the July
number of Littell's Museum of Foreign Literature.
A FRIEND IN NEED IS A
FRIEND INDEED.
"Timm is nothing in the papers and no
body in the streets," said Chnrles Botiverie,
as with n disconsolate air he flung down the
"Times," and turned away from the win
dow. "I may as well wrifr to A tulley-place,
and say that they. must kill their own part•
ridges this year; I can't leave town."—
Charles went towards the table, but ho had
no lady • like powers offilling !bur sheets with
nothing, and the letter was soon sealed.--
Again he was thrown upon his resources;
which have alwayS appeared to me the vers'
worst things on which an unfortunate indi
vidual can -be thrown in the way elm-rinse
ment. He [(relied around the room: there
was one gentleman asleep—Charles envied
him: and another reading the third side of a
newspaper, he was'ono of those who never
omit even an advertisement—the fourth side
vet remained, and Charles envied him too.
The iiict was, that though, of course, it is
the most enviable position in the world, that
of having nothing to do, yet one regnires
tojie 'used to it. Now our hero had been
accustomed to the very reverse. Left an
orphan to the care of three uncles, the first
intended him for a clergyman; saw to his
Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, and fully im
pressed, upon his nephew's mind the para
mount importance of University honours--
However, he died, and the second uncle
insisted on thesenior wrangler taking a plaro
in his counting-house. A will of his own
in a young' man without a shilling is a sti•
perfluny,sand Charles took his place on a
high stool' at n high desk. Just then the
third uncle died. He had troubled his head
very little about "the only hope ()like fami•
ly" during his life; but after lilt, the last
recollections are often the best, and he re
collected his nephew to some purpose.--
Charles Ilimverie was left sole heir to a
fine fortune; for the elder Mr. Bouyerie died
• just as he had realized the sum on %%rim!) he
meant to enjoy himself: . To the best ofour
belief, he had seen the pleasure; for the en
joyment ofspending money is nothing to that
of making it. Charles gave up the ledger
us ho bad given up Euclid; removed to un
hotel in the gayer part of town; devoted his,
mornings to the club instead oft he counting.
house; and intended- to be the hapiest of
men, in the full indulgence of the doter far
niente. -Unfortunately, the art of doing
nothing requires some lean - line: and Charles
though he would nut have owned the truth
on any account, was the least in the world
puzzled what to do with himself. London
was very empty, and he had as yet but few
acquaintances; while lie could not help re
gretting his annual visit at A udley-place. A
month of partridges and pheasants is a very
real pleasure to a young man country•bred
—and forced to spend the other eleven in
town.
Our hero approached the window, that
resource of the destitute. There was nothing
to be seen, even in St. James's street! Three
hackney coaches, and two women in pillow ,
passed by; also a man with nn umbrella
dripping,whtch he held rather over a brown
paper parcel than himself: at laat, a bright
spot appeated just above the palace, the rain
scented to melt into luminous streaks on the
sky, and the ram drops that had sprinkled
nll over the panes of glass began to gather
into two or three large drops,and to descet.d
slowly along the surfitce. They would have .
•
dune to bet upon,. but there was no one to'
bet with. The pavement began to dry,nnd
Charles decided on n walk. lie reached
the clubs, and stood there for five minutes
deliberating whether he should turn to the
right hand or to the h.ft, having no necessity
for turtling to either; and here we cannot
but say that necessity is "an injured angel."
He, she, or it—is never but harsh, stermund
unpitying; and "cruel necessity" is the
phrase par distinction orall parted lovers.
Now I hold that necessity merits more
amiable adjectives; what a great deal of
trouble is saved thereby.' To nn undecided
person like myself. the inevitable is invalua•
ble. [Mitre Charles had done standing like
Hercules, in the allegory between Pleasure
and Virtue, alias the right and left of St.
James's street--a cabriolet dreve rapidly
up to the ,door. _ •
• "My dear fellow!" said its occupier, "1
am in search ofyou. 1 want you to go down
with me to my aunt's, and stay there till
Wpflnes4ay. Her house is within three
r..-E . ''.--'.."-----
/
:r.'-'77--
It was large,square,and dark; and a voice,
that seemed to Charles singularly shrill,
Came from the upper end, "Caroline, my
dear, you have spilt the water."
lie had no Hine for further observation,
when he was led up to a very tall, upright•
looking old lady, in n very tall,uptight arm•
chair, and was presented in turn to Mrs
Langhatn, her brother, Major . Fanshaw°,
and to Miss Langhorn.
"Horace," said the old lady, "you kept
us waiting dinner a whole quarter of an
hour."
miles of Croydon, sl you could be back in
Own at an hour's notice. Let me take you
to your hotel, end thence I shall get you to
drive tne down."
Charles accepted the ofTitr with the grafi
rude a a desperate man; it was
,just what
suited him, rind he sprung into the cabriolet
in the gayest spirit& Horace Langham,
the knight who had thus delivered him trorn
the dragon ennui, had long been the object
of his especial envy. He was a young man
about town, good - looking, well dressed,with
all the externals of a gentleman, quite un
questionable. The few needful preparations
were soon made, and as tiley settled them
selves in the stanhope, Langham said, "I
have made you drive us down, for my horse
has been over worked lately. Nly aunt un
luckily has a greht prejudice against strange
servants; but their iit; a nice little country,
inn close by, so yours will do very 'well."
The conversation was for a time very
animated, for Elora( e knew sinnething about
every one who was anybody; and was very
well inclined to tell all he knew. Anecdotes
though, like other treasures, must come to
an end; and Charles took advantage of a
pause to ask if Mrs. Langharn had any fi►rni
ly.
"Only it niece," was the reply.
"Is she pretty?" asked his companion.
"Not ifyou put it to my conscience," sa id
the other: "but she is likely to be rich: will
that do as well?"
Charles coloured, from "a complication
oidisorders," First he was quite shy enough
to be annoyed at its being supposed that he
cared whether there were any young ladies
.a the world or not; and secondly, be was
quite romantic enough to be shocked at the
idea of money supplying the want of a pretty
face. He was relieved from his embarrass•
mein by Mr. Langhain's snatching the reins
from his hand, and exclainting i "Bouverie,
we must di ive back to town immediately! I
have forgotten my mites netting silk--she
will never forgive me—old ladies are so cur
sedly unreasonable. Why did she plague
me about her horrid silks? flowever,if we
make haste, we shall vet be in time fin. din
ner, I wonder why old women are left in the
world!"
Without waiting for Charles's reply, he
pet the horse to its utmost speed, and drove
furiously back to town. The drive was now
anything but agieenble: a heavy shower of
rain bent directly in tle-ir fiices,and tiorace's
conversation was confined to maledictions on
all elderly gentlewomen, rind lainentmions
on his-own ill luck, in having any thing to
do with them. The particular shop was
reached; the silk was procured, and again
the, took the road to Croydon.
The rain continued to fall in torrents.and
Longhorn's Spirits scented to have fallen with
the barometer. In sullen silence he con.
tinued to drive at a furious rate, till Bouve
rhos sympathieer were ovakened on behalf
of his horse: he was just about "to hint a
fault and hesitate dislike," when the clock
of a church in the distance struck six.
"It is of no use now," exclaimed the im
patient driver, slackening his speed. "We
are too late for dinner,the thing of all others
that puts my aunt out; I must lay the blame
upon you, she can't say anything to you as
a stranger. We must go and dine at that
confournled inn."
Wringing wet, they arrived at a discnnso
late,lookMg inn, "The Swan." Ti uly such
a sign only could have swung in such weath
er. • A fire was hastily lighted in the best
parlour, (*tom whence the smoke drove them;
and they took refuge in the kitchen redolent
with the smell of recently fried onions,vart•
ed with tobacco; for two men sat on one
side the fire employed with two pipes. A
very tough beeCtak was produced after
some delay, badly dressed, for the chimney
sin , dted; this was washed down with some
execrable wine, half cape, half brandy, but
called 'sherry,' Charlescould far better I ave
endured these minor diseonalbris than his
companion's i humour. Controlled towards
himself,it broke with double fury on the heads
of the landlady and the kitehen•maid.—
Chnrles wondered at this in a man whom
ha had always seen so full of gaiety and
good humor; but Charles had still many
rhin. , s to learn.
Dinner over, time given for "my nunt's
afiernoon nap not to be disturbed," they set
off for the "Manor-House," ns it was called.
The rain was quite over, but the glistening
drops on the green sprays of the hawthorn
and ash reflected the moonlight, which was
now breaking through the masses of dark
cloud. A sweet breath came from the late
primroses and the early violets in the hedges
of the lane through which they had to pass.
Had Bouverie been alone he could have
loitered on his way; but his companion had
long since merged the poetical in the ear
castle,. if the firmer quality had ever enter
ed into his composition. They soon arrived
at the place of their destination, and entered
by a picturesque old gate overhung wity ivy;
a gravel , walk, and a few stone steps,led into
the hall. A sedate-looking butler met them
there, and said, with a tone and air equally
solemn, "Mrs. Langham, my mistress,wait
ed dinner for you one quarter arm hour;
the If ajor's rice was sadly overdone."
"No (hull of mine, my good Williams, I
assure you," exclaimed Langham, hurrying
onto the sitting room.
"I WISH NO OTHER HERALD, NO OTHER SPEAKER OF MY LIVING ACTIONS, TO KEEP MINE HONOR FROM CORRUPTION."-SHAE3
62i - et rpa., cazn)YPrbalz, atve . 'a2ll i tla,l3Cio
"Yes," continued the Mujor,"and my rice
was done to a j:•Iley."
'it Ivas no fault of mine," cried the neph
ew; "there stands the real culprit. Mr.
13 ,, uverie ku•got hisdressing cuse,and we had
to drive hack for it."
Mrs. Lingham's face lost the courteous
smile it 11,41 summoned up to receive the
stranger, and the Major turned aside with a
look which said, as plainly as a look could
say—and looks.speak very plainly somo
times: "What efnminate puppies young
men of the present day are!"
Between rage and confusion, Charles
could hardly find his way to a seat, where
he sat
"In angry wonder, and in silent ehanie."3
There wan, however, no occasion terliim to
talk. Horace led the conversation,and was
very amusing; though, unforturiately for
Charles, he had already heard faith the scan
dal and the stories during their drive down.
He employed his time in taking a survey of
the party. Major Fanshawe was a well
preserved, military lookin ,, man; and it gave
him at least ten minutes' consideration to
decide whether he wore a wig or not. At
last he came to the conclusion that it was the
most natural lo,king wig that he had ever
seen. The old lady took up less time: she
seemed staid and severe; and he turned to
the younger one. She took up even less
time; for the urn almost hid her face, and all
he could distinguish was a huge quantity of
curls. Now, if t here was one thin , ' he hated
more than . another it. was a crop. Like
most young men who have always some
divinity for the time.bein'g whereby to judge
of "common mortals," he had his standard
of perfection, and Giulietta G risi reigned at
this moment his "fancy's queen." Her
small classic head put to shame what !►e
somewhat irreverently called, in his own
mind, "a mop of hair." Any little interest
that ►night yet have re►nained was put to
flioht; when, at length, after many efforts
he hazarded a question—"Do you play?"
and the reply was a single, stiff, hard-hearted
"No." Now, a young lady without music
was, in his eves, like a flower without per
fume: Matters were made still worse when
the tea things were removed, and she drew
towards her a large wieker•basket, from
whence peeped out flannel, calico, Tape. aLe.
Charles turned away his head, and encoun
tered an encouraging look from the Major,
who had drawn nearer towards him. Fan•
shawo began to talk of►he weather; and his
auditor was fitirly ast.inished to find how
much he had to say about. it. He had all
but counted the rain-drops; and he was quite
aware of every gleam of sunshine that they
had since the morning. He then cnmmeni•
cuted the important fact that the Manor
House fronted due south, and that it was
situated on an eminence, which rendered it
perfectly dry. "Very necessary for an old
house like this. Our hnue, Sir, is a very
old one; it has the reputation ofa ghost. By
the bye, that puts mo in mind ofa very curt
ous—indeed,l may say uncommon—circum
stance which happened to me when I was a
boy. I was about eight—no, let me see, I
was nearly nice. Yes, it was nine; for my
birthday is in February, and the event to
which I allude happened in November.—
Well, for I um sure you must be impatient
fir the story--young people always like
ghost stories, I had been in bed some time.
My father always insisted on our going soon
to rest. You know the old proverb,
"Early to bed, early to rise,
Makes a Irian healthy, and wealthy, and wise;"
I had been in bed some time. Perhaps I
had gone to sleep a little later than usual; for
it was a stormy night, and I never was a
sound sleeper. My digestion is not good: I
am therefore obliged to he very regular in
toy hours. Your dressing case, Sir,did me
a great deal of harm to.day;—we waited
dinner half an hour, and the rice was over-
done. However. I always make great ex•
cuses for young people. %I hen I was a
youth, I was somewhat of a coxc'mh my•
self; indeed,l think, at any time eflife,peo
ple should never be inddrerent to their ap•
peurance. I often tell my sister and niece
they are too careless. But lam keeping
Your curiosity on the rack all this time. Sn,
to return to my story. I had been asleep
some time, when I was suddenly awakened
by what appeared to me a violent blow on
the chest. I started up in my bed; I could
perceive no one, though the rushlight was
still burning. We were always allowed a
rushlight. I jumped up end ran to my
mother's dressing-romn; I heard the clock
strike twelve,as I thought,though afterwards
it turned out to be only eleven. Still, as
you may easily suppose, it added to my a
larm; for twelve o'clolk is, as you know, a
disagreeable time to be thinking of ghosts
—it being the hour peculiarly appropriated
to their appearance. However, I commu
nicated my alarm in perfect safety, and my
bed.chamber was carefully searched, wait
out discovering the slightest cause for fear. '
My father was a little inclined to be angry;
but, as my mother justly observed, there
were many things for which there was no
accounting. Yousee,mydearyoung friebd,"
—the Major's heart had quite warmed to his
patient listener,—"l may well quote Shake
penre's profound remark, which map have
escaped your notice hitherto,—
'T'heme are more'things in heaven and earth, Ho-
ratio,
Than are dreamed ofin your philosophy.'"
Charles was saved the painful necessity
of a reply, by a call on his attention from
the other part of the room, and hearing his
friend . saying, "Oh, Bouverie is a capital
tredrille player; he wied to play a with his
uncle. It is the very game for a small cir
cle in the country."
Our hero could not deny the fact—for a
fact it actually was; but how it had reached
Laugh= was to him matter of great eur.
prise. Down he sat to the table with Mill.
Langharri:and the Major, to devote the rest
of the evening to spaddle, manille and basto.
At ten, the tray came in, with refreshments
much lighter than were ever meant to fol•
low a dinner bad as his own had been; but,
as the Major observed, "suppers were so bad
for the digestion." At half past ten, bed.
candles were brought in, and "we breakfast
punctually at eight" was formally announced
by Mrs. Langham.
To bed he went—hungry, weary, but not
the least sleepy; and he lay awake,thinking
whether it would be possible to return to
London the next morning. He was the
last to make his appearance; for he had di
vers misgivings respecting a fete a • tete with
Fanshawe, who he saw at once had that
worst bump developed that can adorn the
head ofa bore—viz: long-story tellativeness.
He entered: Miss Langhana's fare was
again hidden by the urn; but he had a side
view of "that odious crop." Mrs. Langham
inquir , d, with old•fashioned politeness, how
he had pissed the night; so did the- Major.
"Saw no ghosts?" and forthwith rocommenc
ed of "a most curious,[ may say unaccount
able, thing which happened to rue when I
was a little boy." It was long enough the
previous evening; but at breakfast it was in
terminable, ticker ever and anon interrupted
by spoons fell of egg;—"An egg is very
light; I always eat or.e at breakfast;"—arid
by slices of toast, accompanied with "Never
touch new bread; but toast is easily digest
ed." A light, however, was thrown on the
motive of their visit; for. Horace was evi
dently aux pelites soins with Caroline Lang•
tiara.
Alter breakfast, all looked towards the
I windows hut the rain was pitiless, and the
sky was of that sombre and unbroken dul
ness which bespeaks a whole day's rain, at
least. The Major challenged Charles to a
game at che 3S, of which nothing worse need
) be said, than that it began before ten, and
lasted till hair past four; when,saying that it
could be finished the next day, his opponent
I hurried Charles off with an injunction to try
and chess in lime for dinner.
tle was dressed in ample time,f4r he had
no motive to linger on the pleasant duties of
the toilette—the only duties that I know of
to which the term pleasant can be applied.
The dinner was certanth the very perfec
tion era plain dinner, and to that Charles
chiefly devoted his attention,taking especial
care not to divert Miss Langhnm's attention
from Horace's whispers by any indiscreet
quelitions. The evening was again ruled
by those three Fates, Spadille. Manillo and
Babto—but as they.were separating for the
night, Charles said to his friend, "Of course
the least you can do for me will be to ask
me to the wedding?"
Horace laughed, and said, "Well, poor
.little thing-1 suppose I most take pity upon
her SOMO day or other. One comfort is,
that when she is my wife, she cannot be so
very fond of me."
No man likes to hear of the conquest of
another, and Charles made no eflbrt to pro.
long the conversation. The next morning
was bright,as lithe day were as glad as him•
self of their coming departure. He also
most ingeniously out.manceuvred the Major,
by fist approaching the window to admire
the garden; next stepping out upon the turf,
and then walking offas fast as he could, re
solved that he would not be found till two o'•
clock,when the stanhope was ordered to the
door. The day was delightful—the sun
shine entered into the spirits, and the soft
warm air was freighted with odours from a
garden prodigal in sweets.
From the flower-garden ho wandered into
a little wilderness which communicated with
an orchard. Charles paused flir a moment
to admire the cherry-trees, covered with
fruit, whose yellowish green was just begin
ning to wear a tinge of red on the side next
the sun; when suddenly he espied the Major
—gun in hand. He then remembered that
he had been vowing vengeance against the
sparrows at breakfast. The morning was
trio lovely to wa , te on stories of--'' When - I
was a little boy;" so he darted behind a tree,
and prepared •to mike his escape unseen.
Now, whether his stir among the branches
disturbed the birds, or whether the Major
thought that he had carried his gun quite
long enough without discharging it,we know
not; but at that moment he fired. Charles
received the shot in his leg, and stumbled a•
gainst a tree,struck his head with such vio
lence, that he fell stunned on the ground.—
When he recovered his senses he found
himself in bed, with a gentleman at his el
bow, who allowed no one but himself to
s ieak.
On this part ofour narrative we nded not
dwell—but the unfortunate visitor was con.
fined for a week to his bed. The fever un
der which he suffered rendered even an at.
tempt to amuse him dangerous; but before
the week was over he had learned to think
Mrs Langham the kindest old lady in the
world; and that the Major was to be endur
ed,now that he was not allowed to say above
five words at a time. He had also discover
ed that Miss Langham had a low sweet
voice,nnd the light step ofa sylph. Ho was
pronounced equal to sitting up for a few
hours& it is almost worth while to be an in
valid for the sake of that permission.
"We placed you in this room at Caroline's
suggestion,"said Mrs. Longhorn; "it is the
one which she occupies, and opens into her
own little morning room. As she very-just
ly observed, you could then have change,
the moment it was needed, without any fa-
Accordingly he was wheeled on the soli%
into the adjoining apartment, and tell for a
little while to recover from the exertion,
with an assurance that she and her niece
%you'd soon be with him. Charles took the
opportunity of looking about him; and the
survey very much raised Miss Langhom in
hi 4 estimation; there wag so much feminine
taste in the arrangement of the various trifles
scattered around. There was a pretty and
well-furnished book case: he read the titles
on the backs of several, and perceived both
French and Italian authors mingled with
the English. A number ofengavings hung
on the walls, all chosen with reference to
their subjects, all of which had a little touch
of sentiment. Some fresh (lowers, grouped
as only those who have an eye for colours
can group them, were upon the talk!, and a
basket of choice plants was in the window;
a guitar reared on a stand of inusic; in short,
nothing was wanting that Charles deemed
essential in a lady's room. He was not left
long to his meditations—his hostess and
her niece reappeared, and he was soon en
gaged in a very pleasant conversation.
M rs. Langha in was called suddenly away;
and for a few minutes there was a pause—
broken by Charles asking the young lady—
"lf she had any friends that were musical?"
"No," replied Caroline. "Indeed we
have very few neighbors; my aunt has out-
lived most of her own• friends, and is reluc
tant to make new ones. We see few strnn.
gers, excepting an acquaintance whom Ho
race now and then brings down—or some
old companions of my uncle's."
There was something in the familiar ap
pellation "Horace" that jarred on Charles's
ear—and there was another pause: after
which he could think of nothing better to
say, than—
"Mr. Lanu,ham is a very gentlemanlike
young man!"
"Do you think so," replied his compenion
coldly.
Charles tried to get a glance at her face,
but it was hidden by the curls which, fell
forward as she bent over her knitting.
"And Very witty," continued Bouverie.
"Nav," said Caroline, "there I, cannot
agree with you. Ridicule is not wit:, Ho
is amusing, for he goes a great deal into so
ciety, and retails all he there collccts = but
I never heal d him make an original remark
in my life."
"Ile seems, however, a great favorite of
you's!" exclaimed the invalid, hastily.
"Ah,
,well!" returned the youag lady; "I
do not wish to undervalue your friend—l see
you are half affronted—but a favorite of
mine my cousin never was,nor never can be.
He is filer too selfish."
Charl4 felt a most ungenerous sensation
of pleasure,which however ho chPcked, and
magnanimously resolved to change the sub
ject.
"I wonder at seeing a guitar," said he, "us
you say you have no musical friends?"
"L do not keep my guitar," replied Caro-
line, laughing "for my frienda—but for my
self!"
"But of what use is it to you?" asked the
invalid.
"Not of much use, certainly; but a grea
deal of pleasure!"
"Pleasure!—what pleasure?"
"Oh, you may not be fond of music— , -bu ,
I am."
"Still, as you do not play it—l do not
comprehend the good of the instrument!" .
"But I do play it!" interrupted Caroline.
"Why!" exclaimed. Charles, ' , you told
me, the first evening,that you did not play!"
"A h, I thought that you meant tredille!"
Bouverie alninst sprang front the sofa.
"My dear Miss Langham, I am so pas
sionately fond of music; do lay by your knit
ting an a l take your guitar!"
"With pleasure,if it will keep you quiet!"
So saving, with equal grace and simplicity,
she began to sing an Italian barcarolle:
The light fell on her face,whtch was turn
ed towards her listener, who perceived for
the first time how very pretty it was. The
fact was, that he had never• looked-at her - ,
before. We need pursue the subject no
farther: —a lady—a guitar—and a wounded
cavalier—can have but one denoument—a
declaration—and it came in duo time; that
19, before the week was out.
"You must let me speak to your aunt,"
said Charles Bouverie, the morning after.
"My dear aunt!" said Caroline, blushing
ono .of those sweet bright blushes which so
soon forsake the cheek; "you must not mind
a little opposition at first."
"She fiivo►s Mr. Longhorn then?"
"Certainly not;" but colouring still more
deeply, "your want of fortune ---l"
"My want of fortune!" cried Charles;
"why f am all but a millionaire!"
The matter was soon explained. Horace
had brought his friend down half as a conve•
nience—half as a foil—and to prevent any
possible danger, had represented him as
poor: all mistakes were soon cleared up.—
Settlements and diamonds—blond and brit
skit were arranged with all possible despatch;
and Mr. and Mrs. Bouverie were soon an
nounced as "the happy pair, gone during the
honey-moon to Paris." The only regret
heard on the subject was one expressed by
Horace .Langhit m—" Very provoking a man
must not marry his aunt! Now that Caro
line is so well provided for, my nunt is a
speculation well worth consideration."
We should never inquire into the faith or
profession, religious or political, of our ac
quaintances; we should be satisfied when we
find usefulness, integrity, beneficence, toler
ance, patriotism, cheerfulness, sense and
manners. ‘V.,e encounter every day really
good men,practical christians; and estimable
citizens, belonging respectively to all the
sects and classes.
POWER OF SlN.—The prophet Isaiah
speaks of some being drawn to sin as with
cart•rnpes: a striking emblem of the
,power
with which a reluctant victim is dragged a
long by the habits which hage been fitstened
to his nature"'
r-
"Disiou know what Friendship is? Yes—
it be as brother and sister, two souls
wlitetixtench each other without meeting,
like two fineers on the same hand.
{VOL. .-N0..18.7
The - Masonic Teiliintiriy.
.
T m
estiony token . by the Cont.
natter appointed by the 'Masi ii' .
Representatives to investigaW
the Evils of Pree-alasanry. • :•.
Mn. sTrwrivs CHAIRMAN
[o:7"coNTlNltm,n rnon OUR LAST.
INTER . ROGATORT:gS.
..
followm .
At n preparatory meeting, the g
...
standing Interrogatories ‘vere adop(ed . by
the Committee:
. - -
First Interrogator:U—Are Tou, or linie yon been ai
Free•Alasow, how many degrees have. yow Inken;end
by what .Lodge or Chapter Were you admitted/
Second toterrogolorp—lleforC or at the time of your
faking each of those dettrees; - Will ilu oath or oblige,
eon administered to you? -..-.., .
Third Interrogatory—Can you repeat - the several
oaths or obligations administered to yoit or any of,
them? If so, repeat the several oaths,beginning With
the Entered A pprentice's; and repeat them,literally,
if possible; if not, substantially. Listen to the oath's
and obligations and penalties' as read Trani this book's
(Allyn's Ritual,)und point out any variation youirkatt
find in them from the oaths you took. Is there mire,
dine degree? . .
. . ,
Fourth Interrogatory-4Md file yon ever tnse af•
. firmation administered in the Lodge or erk, , .
Fifth Interrogatory—Are there any tithe or
* 6
obligations in Masonry than those coma ned In Al
lyn a Ritual and Ilernazd's Light on illitsoni; ?, .
Sixth Interrogatory—ls Masonry, essentially Atte
same even where?
Scoenth Interrogatory—Slide the ceretnofii - ofirsi !
tiation in the Royal Arch degree ; and p4rticulitslk
whether any allusion is made to the Scripture scene
of the Burning Bush. State fully how that See:ndr.iii
enacted in the Lodge or Chapter.
Eighth Interria t tary—Are yon a Knight Temphr?
Ifs°, state lolly obligation and ordinances of-that
degree In tha grec, is wine adrniniste . rid trrtlie
candidate out of a human,scull? State fulivAlict,wholn
scene. Listen to the account or it. a+ read; from,thii
book, (Allyn's Ritual,) and point out wherein it
rics from the genuine oath or ceremony;
The following Interrogatories were sub
sequently adopted by the Comrnittee,in ad ,
chtion to the foregoino: •
Ninth Interrogatory—A re you a member of the So.
ciety of Odd Fellows? If so, when did youipin it?
Tenth Interrogatory—Are oaths and obligations at
ministered in any of tho grades or. degrees of, said so
ciety? If so, state all of them with which younre 43^
(painted fully. Listen to the oaths and obligation and
penalties, as read from this book,("An Exposition of
Odd Fellowship, by a Past Grand Master,?' 105;j .
and point out any variations you find in them,from tho
genuine ones administered in regular. lodges of Odd
Fellows. • - .
. . .
Eleventh Interrogatory—State whether. the book
just read to you;cop tains correct account or oddirer- -.
lowship,as lar as you have advanced therein? . •
Testimony of Alex. W.Fosterjr.
TUESDAY, January 12, 1830.
ALEXANDER W. FOSTER, Jr:*ti s s
then called and sworn.
In answer to the ninth . Interrogator/le
states:— -
That I have been un Oddfellow, but 'do net
nriiv consider myself one.. 1 now hol&an
honorable'discharge from No. 30. "joined
in 1831, the Chosen Friends' Lodge, Na.
80, in the city of Pittsburg..
10th Interrogatory. Ans. They are fre
quent, so fur as I went; more' than opeirt
degree or grade—in two instances, I think;
but I cannot recite them.
Mr. Stevens then proposed reading the
oath of the first degree, from a hook publish='_
ed in .Pittsburg, 18:35, entitled "An
Lion of Oddfellowship, by a - Past Grand," .
when the witness said. . • -
That book, lately published by Mr: Ale*.
antler Jaynes, I examined before I tame
from home, and I found it substantially anti'
remarkably correct so far as I went, Which"
was to the Scarlet degree.
The oath of the' first degree, was then.
read from the blok in the fellowing'wordsr
"I, of my own froo will , and accord,
and in the presence of Almighty Gad, declare,
and solemnly swear, that I will hail. conceal; and,
never reveal to . any person or persons, any of the,
secrete or mysteries of
,Oddfollotaiship that are
now, or may be at any other time, delivered unto
my, except it may be 'into a just and lawful broth
er, or in a just and lawful lodge of brothers ; he or
they whom I shall find so to be, after due 'trial
'and examination.. I r !so further irwear s .. thittA
will not write it, print it, stamp it, staiti,it; cui it,
indent it, or indite it upon anythino,4noveableor
immoveable, under the high canopy .cilhativiOoo:
that the least character or letter be trtiliiiiirfully
obtained. All this I swear, without any.hesitation.
mental reservation, or self. evasiou ofmind in me
whatever, under no less penalty than having, first;`
my lower jaw sevocod from my face, my body
divided into four quarters, and burnt to ashoe,aud
scattered to the far quarters of the globe, so that
not the least vestige of such a vile wretch Shay
remain. So help me God, and keep in° stedrot
in this my obligation oft h e first degtoo,into which
I am now entering "
Question. %Vas that (Wreath as adminis.
tered..twa?
Ansr7Fivas.
The oath of thelgtgree of the Covenant
was then read in the following words:
"I, -, in tho prosonce of Almighty • God,
and thoso my covenantedtbrothors, do solemnly
pledge myself to help and support my atEreted,or
distressed, or persecuted brother; to wa. - n him of
danger, whether it bo from his own imprudence or
from the evil designs of an enemy, or from some
apparently accidental cause; to point out his ad
vantage and intorest, end if it should come within.
my power and knowledge so to do, to protect his
property, to succour his wife and family, to defend
his character, and to save his life and limbs, if
opportunity offine. I will receive thankfully front
my brother the same good offices; and I am here.
by solemnly hound in an especial covenant with
those brothets, who can and do truly discover
themselves ss such."
Question by Mr. Stevens: Was that the
oath as administered to you? .
Ans. It was.
The oath of the Scarlet degree was then
read'in these word,:
do in the prosonce of ‘lmightyGifth,
before whom the secrets oral! hearts artSlaidopen,,
hnd in the presence of this loyal lodge, most :soh'
emnly swear, that I will not betray the secret* or:- .
signs of this degree to any person or persoutt-,
whatsoever: no, not to a brother of tho first degree.
or second, in a loyal lodge; neither will 1 ca,usalt
to be done, unless authorized in a leg a l at:Omar;
neithor in writing, printing,itaining,"carvingAbt, '
ting, indenting; or inditing; or by any ,inassiir ,
whatsoever under the high canopy of beasfeiss
also further swear, that ! will not wrong a, tirOth . .
or, or soo him wronged, without spprisingll4ir, 4.
approaching danger; 61:d that I will attemtVeltirr'.
legal summons, unless sickness, lamettess,s)s.amg: -
being within throe miles prevents mi.
I swear, with a steady deleraiimitlon
same."
Question by Mir. Ste vens.—Msts that tliC
oath administered to you?
AttiOt4
'