University of Virginia Library

8. CHAPTER VIII.

Our hero, after the romantic meeting, and the attendant
occurrences mentioned in the last chapter, sat down
in good earnest to the study of Masonry. His whole soul
became gradually enlisted in the subject, and his every
leisure moment was devoted, with unremitting ardor, to
treasuring up the mystic beauties of this celestial science.
No longer troubled with those absurd scruples relative to
the Sabbath, which he entertained before he became enlightened
by the liberal principles of masonry, he now every
Sunday rode over to the residence of his friend, Jenks,
and spent the day with him in secret communion on that
theme in which they in common delighted—the one in giving
and the other in receiving instruction. These meetings
were also enlivened by recounting over their late adventure
in cub-catching, and amusing themselves in teaching
the now docile trophy of that heroic achievement such
various pranks and feats as they considered necessary to a
genteel ursine education. His master, perceiving in him
signs of his making a bear of uncommon talents, had honored
him with the dignified name of Boaz—an appellation
at first suggested by the title of the book under consideration
at the time of his capture, and more especially by the
strength of a powerful grip which he gave Jenks on his
way homeward, which he likened to the masonic grip of

that name. And besides conferring the honor of a masonic
name, they taught him many accomplishments peculiar to
the craft.—He would stand erect on his haunches—cross
his throat with one paw, or cross his paws on his breast,
after the fashion of the sign and due-guard of the first degree,
as readily, when the same motions were made to him,
as the most expert Entered Apprentice in Christendom.—
Nor were his masonic attainments limited to one degree only:
the due-guard & sign of the Fellow-Crafts, and the Master's
sign of distress, were also familiar to him—the latter
of which he was wont to make whenever he wanted an ear
of green-corn, or an apple. In short, Boaz was fast becoming
a bright Mason, and would doubtless soon have made
a great adept in the mysteries of the craft, could he have
taken the obligations, and have been made to understand
the preference which is due to the brotherhood. In no
other respects need he have been deficient; for none certainly
could be better calculated by nature for many of the
high and active duties of the order than he. In the execution
of the penalties, he would have been justly eminent.—Jeremy
L. Cross himself, would not have been able
to rip open the left breast of a traitor, pluck out his heart,
or tear open his bowels and scatter them on all sides to
the four winds of heaven, with more masonic accuracy.

But to return to our hero: Such was his intense application
to the task of perfecting himself in the study of
Freemasonry, that before the next lodge-meeting he had
committed to memory the whole of Jachin and Boaz, which,
with the instructions received from Jenks, had made him
master of the first degree, and given him considerable insight
into the two next succeeding. Jenks became proud
of his pupil, and began to prophecy bright things of his future
usefulness and eminence among the order. His progress
was indeed unrivalled, but no greater perhaps than
might have been anticipated from one of his retentive
memory, and from one whose mighty genius was so well
calculated by nature to grasp the peculiar sublimities of
the mystic science. The next lodge-meeting therefore

found him fully prepared to meet his intended exaltation.
He had taken up his wages at Joslin's to the present time,
which furnished him with the means not only of paying the
additional fees required for taking the two next degrees,
but of getting a new coat and several other articles of
dress that were required, as he conceived, by the dignity
of the important station to which he was about to be exalted,
and at the same time leaving a few dollars for the usual
disbursements of the lodge-room. Thus every way prepared,
he once more set out for the tavern where he had lately
encountered the appalling scenes of his initiation. He
did not, however, proceed at this time with the same urgent
speed as when he passed over the road before; nor were
his feelings raised to the same pitch of excitement. The
first sight of the house, as he approached, to be sure caused
a chill and shudder to run over him, as it brought fresh
to mind the trials and terrors he had there passed through;
but these sensations quickly vanished as he recollected the
cheering light which there burst upon him at last in rereward
for those fearful trials; and more especially as he
cast his thoughts forward to the still brighter glories and
honors before him.

He now entered the lodge-room, and not a little gratified
and elated were his feelings at the warm and cordial
greetings with which he was received by the assembled
brotherhood. The lodge having been apprised of his wish
to take the next degrees in order, he now retired, while
they proceeded to the balloting; and all being again announced
clear, they now immediately commenced the ceremonies
of raising him to the degree of Fellow-Craft, or
passing him, as it is technically termed. But as the ceremonies
of taking this degree are, in many respects, similar
to those which I have already described in the account
given to Timothy's initiation, and besides being now performed
on one who was in a measure prepared to meet
them without surprise so as to produce no very remarkable
effects on his mind, I shall pass lightly over this degree—
mentioning only a few of the most prominent acquisitions

in knowledge which our hero made in the interesting and
beautiful lectures of the Fellow-Craft, which I deem of
too much importance to be omitted. He here was taught
that important fact in physiology that that there are five
human senses, viz: hearing, seeing, feeling, smelling and
tasting,—the three first of which are considered the most
essential among Masons, though the last, I opine, is not considered
to be altogether superfluous. He likewise was instructed
into the learned intricacies of lettering and halving
Jachin, and was greeted by that appellation of wisdom in
reward for his triumph over the arduous difficulties of the
task. And lastly, the uses of that beautiful moral emblem,
the plumb, were illustrated to his understanding, and its
monitory suggestions impressed on his heart: for that instrument,
he was told, which operative masons use to raise
perpendiculars, taught, or admonished free and accepted
Masons to walk uprightly, or perpendicularly in their several
stations before God and man. This last hieroglyphical
maxim of moral duty which masonry, in her astute sagacity,
has so naturally deduced from that instrument, forcibly
reminded our hero of an epitaph which he had somewhere
read:—
And although he never before could see the force of this
epitaph, yet he now at once saw its beautiful application,
and immediately knew that it must have originated from
the genius of masonry. But as important and interesting
as these discoveries were—as much as these, and the thousand
other beauties of this instructive degree were calculated
to expand the mind, and awaken the admiration of
our hero, still they were nothing—comparatively nothing,
to the treasures of knowledge which were opened to his
wondering view in the next, or Master Mason's degree.
The ceremonies of raising were, in the first place, peculiarly
solemn and impressive: And connected as they are
with an account of the death of the traitors, Jubelo, Jubela,
Jubelum, and the murder of the Grand Master, Hiram
Abiff, thus furnishing many historical facts, a knowledge
of which can be obtained only through the medium of masonry,
these ceremonies of themselves unfolded to his mind
information of the utmost importance. The circumstance,
too, that the body of Hiram had lain fourteen days without
corruption, in the hot climate where the incident occurred,
particularly excited his wonder, as the event could be
attributed only to a miracle, thus furnishing proof to his
mind that this institution, like the Christian religion, was
founded in miracles. To this marvellous circumstance,
which struck our hero so forcibly, another not less curious
and wonderful, I think might be added—I mean the singular
coincidence involved in the fact that three men, as
above mentioned, should happen to come together—be of
the same fraternity, and all traitors, whose names, all of
one beginning, should so nearly furnish the grammatical
declination of a Latin adjective! Nor need our admiration
stop here; for when we consider that these men were
all Hebrews, whose language is so dissimilar to that of the
Latin, and that they lived in an age too when the Romans
and their language were unknown at Jerusalem, our surprise
is still more excited; and being unable, by the help
of our own limited faculties, to comprehend these miraculous
circumstances, we are compelled to stop short, and
pause in wonder over the extraordinary events which are
connected with the early history of this ancient institution.
But however important the ceremonies of this august degree
may be considered as establishing the divine origin of
Freemasonry, and as throwing new light over some passages
in the history of antiquity, they still yield in importance
to the moral beauties, the lofty sentiment, and the
scientific knowledge illustrated and enforced in the lectures.
Here a grand fountain of wisdom is opened to the
candidate; and it was here that our hero revelled in intellectual
luxury.—It was here for the first time in his life
that he became acquainted with that interesting philological
fact that masonry and geometry are synonymous terms,
a discovery to which the world is undoubtedly indebted to
the light of masonry; for Crabbe, (a shame on him!) notwithstanding
his learned industry in collecting the synonymes
of our language, appears to be wholly ignorant of this
curious fact. Here he learned, while receiving an account
of the construction of Solomon's Temple, another fact in
history entirely new to him, “that it never rained in the
day-time during the seven years in which the temple was
building,”—a fact which can be considered none other
than a miracle; and, as the temple is known to have been
the production of masonry solely, goes still further to prove
that the institution is divine, and under the immediate protection
of Heaven. Here too he learned the reason and
justice of inflicting the penalties of the obligations on traitors,
as illustrated in the example of the great and good
Solomon, the acknowledged father of organized Freemasonry.
But time, and the narrow limits of this brief work,
will not allow me to proceed any farther in recounting the
various scientific discoveries which our hero here made—
the many moral maxims that were impressed on his heart,
and the thousand instances of the sublime and beautiful
that burst on his mind. Suffice it to say, that all were equally
instructive, important and wonderful with those I have
enumerated. But not only all these important acquisitions
in knowledge did our hero make on this eventful evening,
but he won the unanimous applause of his brethren by the
becoming manner in which he bore himself through the
whole ceremonies, and which more than atoned for his
wayward obstinacy and awkwardness at his initiation, and,
in the minds of all present, gave bright promise of his future
masonic eminence:—while the hearty good humor
with which he entered into the convivialities of the evening,
in time of refreshment, began to render him the favorite
of the lodge-room, and he was universally voted a
bright Mason.

Being now clothed with his apron and the badges of
a Master Mason, and greeted, as he continually was, with
the dignified title of Worshipful, he began to feel the responsibilities
of his station, and the importance with which

his existence had become invested. He assumed a more
manly step—a more lofty mien; and conscious worth and
consequence gave the air of majesty to his whole demeanor.

Thus ended the important events of this evening, which
constituted a bright era in the life of our hero, and implanted
in his bosom a love for this noble institution which
was never eradicated.

Nothing of any particular interest occurred to our hero
till the next lodge-meeting, when the Senior Warden having
left the town, he was almost unanimously elected to
fill that important and honorable station. And a candidate
having been presented for initiation, he found an opportunity
to display his masonicac quirements, which he did with
such brilliancy and promptitude as to draw forth repeated
applause from his admiring brethren. An extra meeting
of the lodge was, a few days after, holden, at which he rose
still higher, and took the three next degrees, viz: Mark,
Past, and Most Excellent Master, which carried him to the
seventh round in the ladder of Masonry. Such was the
unparalleled progress, and such the starting career of the
man who was destined to become so proud a pillar in this
glorious fabric.

About this time Joslin, Timothy's employer, sought an
interview with him, and told him that a settlement would
be agreeable. Timothy could see no necessity for such a
measure; but Joslin, without heeding our hero's observations
to this effect, opened his account-book, and began
to figure up the amount due after deducting what had been
received; and after he had ascertained the sum, he turned
to Timothy and asked him if it was correct? “I presume
it may be,” replied Timothy, “but”—`But what?' said
Joslin—`You have become a great man since I employed
you, Mr. Peacock, and I cannot any longer see you stoop
to labor which is so much beneath a person of your consequence:
Here is your money.” So saying, he threw down
the few dollars now Timothy's due, and, whirling on his
heel, left the house.

This was an unexpected affair; and Timothy scarcely
knew what to make of it.—After musing however about
half an hour, he came to the conclusion that Joslin wanted
he should go: But what had he done to render his employer
dissatisfied?—He could think of nothing. To be
sure, when alone in the field, he had often marked out a
lodge-room on the ground, and taking a stump, and supposing
it a candidate, had lectured to it several hours at a
time. He had sometimes yoked the off ox the nigh side,
when his mind was deeply engrossed with this subject; and
he had that morning turned the horse into the oat-field instead
of the pasture. But what of these trifling errors?
And were they not caused too by the intenseness of those
studies which were infinitely more important than the insignificant
drudgeries which had been saddled upon him
by a man whose ignorance could never admit of his appreciating
things of a higher character?

Our hero began to grow indignant as he thought over
these things; and he determined he would have nothing
more to do with Joslin, but leave his house that very day;
and, in revenge for his narrow-minded views, and base
conduct, forever deprive him and his family of those services
and that society with which he had been too long benefited,
and his house too much honored.

Our hero was a person of great decision of character;
and what he resolved to do, he scarcely ever failed of carrying
into immediate effect. Accordingly, in one hour
from the time Joslin left him, as above mentioned, he had
packed his bundle and was making tracks towards the residence
of his friend, Jenks, for consultation and advice, and
perhaps a temporary home, not knowing where else to go
in this unexpected emergency.

Having arrived at the house of Jenks, and informed him
of what had happened at Joslin's, and that he had left that
gentleman's employ forever, the two friends walked out
into a field, and spent the remainder of the day in deep
and confidential consultation. Many plans for our hero's
future course were suggested and discussed, and as many,

on weighing them, rejected. But a project was at length
hit upon by Jenks, which was finally adopted.—This was
an excursion to the city of New-York to see what could
be made out of Boaz by exhibiting him as a show, or selling
him to some caravan. In this enterprise they both were
to embark and become joint partners in all profits or losses
that might arise out of the adventure. Jenks owned a
stout horse and waggon, half of which Timothy was to purchase,
paying down what he could spare, and giving a note
for the rest; while Boaz, being a kind of joint trophy, was
generously thrown into the company by Jenks, notwithstanding
his greater claims to the animal, without any
charge to Timothy whatever. Jenks was a notable schemer.—He
having but a small farm, which did not require
all his time to manage it, had generally, for the last several
years, taken two or three trips a year in pedling goods
for a neighboring merchant; and he was now calculating
to take one of these pedling voyages as soon as he had finished
his harvesting.—But as soon as he thought of the
above mentioned plan, he concluded to forego his ordinary
fall pedling trip, and engage in this, where he believed
there would be a chance of greater gain, though he knew
there would be considerable hazard: and for this reason
he rather undertake the enterprise with some one who would
run the risk of loss with him, and believing that Timothy's
personal appearance and gifts of speech might make him
highly serviceable to the company, he now entered heartily
into this scheme, ostensibly for the benefit of our hero—
privately for his own.

The next day the bargain was matured in all its parts,
and all the necessary writings drawn. Timothy gave Jenks
twelve dollars for half of the waggon, and twenty-five for
an equal share of the horse—the latter, though an excellent
stout horse, was lacking of an eye, and for that reason
had been named Cyclops by the late school-master of the
district, who being a Freshman at Burlington University,
when he taught the school the winter before, had drawn
this name from the vast depths of his classic lore, and bestowed

it on the old horse in reward for his good service in
carrying him and his girl ten miles to a quilting.

The time for starting was now fixed by our two friends
at just one fortnight ahead; and for the interim Timothy
agreed to work for Jenks to enable him to complete his
harvesting, and be ready at the time.

While making these preparations for the intended journey,
the regular monthly meeting of the lodge came round,
when Jenks told Timothy that there was one degree in Masonry
to which he was now entitled, and which might prove
of great advantage to him on their contemplated journey;
and he would advise our hero to take it—it was called the
Secret Monitor, or Trading Degree.—He, himself, had
found it of great service. Accordingly, at the lodge-meeting,
after the lodge was closed, this degree was privately
conferred upon Timothy, the obligation of which, as it discloses
the principles and eminent advantages of this invaluable
step in masonry, I must beg leave to insert at length.
It is as follows:

“I, A. B., of my own free will and accord, in presence
of Almighty God, do hereby and hereon, most solemnly
and sincerely promise and swear, that I will keep and
conceal all the secrets belonging to the Secret Monitor;
that I will not communicate this to any one except it be to
a true and lawful brother, Master Mason or Masons, whom
I shall have reason to believe will conform to the same.
I further promise that I will caution a brother Secret Monitor
by word, token or sign, when I shall see him do, or
about to do, or say anything contrary to the true principles
of Masonry. I further promise that I will caution a
brother Secret Monitor by word, token or sign, when I
shall see him do, or about to do, or say anything contrary
to his own interest, either in buying or selling, or any other
way. I further promise, that when so cautioned, I will
pause and deliberate upon the course I am about to pursue.
I further promise, that I will help, aid and assist a
brother Secret Monitor, by introducing him into business,
sending him custom, or any other manner in which I may cast

a penny in his way. I further promise, that I will commit
this obligation to memory immediately, or as soon as possibly
consistent.—All which I promise and swear, with a
firm and steadfast resolution to perform the same; binding
myself under no less penalty than to have my heart
pierced through by the arrow of an enemy, or to be left
alone without a friend to assist in the day of trouble.—So
help me God, and keep me steadfast to perform the same.”

Such were the matchless beauties of this honorary degree
of a Master Mason, which our hero now received with
no less pride than admiration! Nor was this the only honor
conferred on him that evening.—About the middle of the
evening the Master of the lodge was called home by the
sudden illness of his wife, when the unexpected honor of
presiding over the lodge devolved on Timothy; and nobly
did he sustain himself in discharging the functions of
that high station. After this meeting Jenks and Timothy
proceeded to more immediate preparations for their expedition.
At the suggestion of Jenks, they run up about
twenty pounds of tallow and bees-wax into black-balls,
using wheat-smut to give the tallow a coloring. They
then put up about a dozen junk-bottles of common water,
squeezing the juice of a few elder-berries into one, wild
turnip into another, and peppermint or wild annis into a
third, and so on, to give them some peculiar tint or taste,
no matter what; and labelling these bottles all with different
names and epithets, such as “certain cure for consumption,”—“cure
for corns,” &c. &c. These and various
other domestic manufactures were prepared and put
up for pedling on the way. A large box fitted to the waggon,
and properly aried with gimblet-holes, was made to
accommodate Boaz; while due care was bestowed upon
him to perfect his accomplishment before introducing him
into the world: all of which, having now become nearly
grown to the size of ordinary bears, and well nurtured in
intellect, he acquired with surprising readiness and docility.