University of Virginia Library

13. CHAPTER XIII.

On the second morning after leaving the great emporium
of trade, and the patroness of mobs and shaved bears,

our travellers arrived safe and sound, in purse and limb, at
the busy mart of Fort Orange, as Albany was called by
the original Dutch settlers. Leaving Timothy in a sort of
Dutch doggery, or sailor's hotel, situated near the wharf,
Jenks immediately went in search of the friend to whom
he had proposed to introduce the former. He soon returned,
however, with the news that this friend was absent from
the city. In this dilemma he advised Timothy to put himself
on his own resources for an introduction into society,
telling him if he would rig himself up with a new suit of
clothes, and take lodgings in some fashionable hotel with
a well furnished bar, he could find no difficulty in becoming
acquainted with the brotherhood. The two friends
then took a formal and tender leave of each other, after a
mutual promise of correspondence by letter till Timothy
should rejoin the other in a few months, the next spring at
the farthest, under his hospitable roof in the Green-Mountains.

Our hero felt much regret at first in being separated
from his friend, and thus suddenly deprived of his company
and council. But lack of a just confidence in himself being
never a very prominent defect in our hero's character,
he now felt, therefore, but little hesitation in putting himself
at once in the way of public notice. In accordance
with the suggestion of Jenks, and more perhaps in compliance
with the dictates of his own feelings, he determined
in the first place to obtain that by no means uncurrent
pass-port to good society, a fine suit of apparel. He
therefore took his bundle in his hand and went directly in
search of a merchant tailor. Having found one he at once
stated his wish to purchase a genteel suit of clothes. The
man eying Timothy an instant, observed, “he presumed
he had none that would fit,” and was about turning away
when his eye glancing on a roll of bank bills which our hero
was holding in his fingers, he suddenly recollected “a suit
or two that would doubtless suit to a hair.” “It was surprising,”
he said, “that he should have forgotten them.”
Suit after suit was then produced by this vulgar fraction of

humanity, and a bargain was soon completed to the mutual
satisfaction of both parties. And Timothy, having enrobed
himself in his new purchase, and made his toilet with
suitable care in a private room furnished him by the now
very accommodating tailor, immediately set out to look up
a boarding house. After going the rounds of the public
houses awhile, and making all necessary inquiries, he at
length took lodgings in a popular hotel in the best part of
the city, which eminently possessed the requisites mentioned
by Jenks, it being celebrated as a house of choice
liquors, and as a resort of all those who justly appreciate
them. Timothy's next object was to form some masonic
acquaintance. And in this he was peculiarly fortunate.
At the dinner table, to which he was soon summoned after
engaging his board he threw out the usual masonic sign
as he lowered his empty glass from his lips, and had the
pleasure of seeing it answered by a young gentleman who
sat opposite to him. As soon as the company rose from
the table Timothy made a sign or beck to this newly discovered
brother, and was followed by him, though with evident
reluctance, to the room which the landlord had assigned
to the former. They were no sooner alone in the
room than this person observed that “he regretted very
much the low state of the funds of his lodge, and he was
fearful that little or nothing could be spared at that time,
still however he was always willing to hear a brother's story.”
Timothy, as soon as he could find a place to break in
upon his alarmed brother, proceeded to inform him that he
had no desire to draw on the charities of his brethren, but
having a few hundred dollars at his command, and being
very desirous to perfect himself in Masonry, he knew of no
way in which he could spend his money more profitably or
pleasantly; and all the assistance he desired was such introductions
to the brethren of the place as would be necessary
in pursuing this object. The merchant, for he
proved to be a young merchant of the city, on hearing that
no draft was to be made on his charity, as he seemed rather
hastily to have anticipated, immediately broke through
the atmosphere of restraint and repulsiveness in which he
had enveloped himself on entering the room, and suddenly
became very sociable and friendly. He highly commended
our hero's intention of pursuing such a noble study as
Masonry. He greatly respected such people, he observed,
and always felt bound to sell them goods much cheaper
than he sold them to others. His name he said was Van
Stetter, and his store was in — street, where he was ever
extremely happy to see his friends.

A general understanding having thus been effected between
Timothy and Van Stetter, they fell to conversing on
other topics; and before they had been together one hour
they had become, by the strength of the mystic tie, not
only familiar acquaintances but sworn friends. The merchant
then arose, and repeating his friendly offers, and
promising to furnish a supply of masonic books as soon as
Timothy should wish to commence his studies, bid the latter
a good day and departed. Much did our hero congratulate
himself, when the other was gone, on his good fortune
in thus happily securing so valuable an acquaintance;
and he could not help again blessing, and admiring anew,
that glorious institution which could so soon convert an
entire stranger into a faithful friend.

Being now fairly settled, and every thing appearing
bright before him, Timothy's first care was to write a long
letter to his parents, informing them of his singular good
fortune, and of his present determination to remain for the
present in Albany in order to become a great man in Masonry,
which would perhaps take him till the next spring to
accomplish. Having performed this pleasing task, and
dispatched his letter by mail, he spent several of the following
days in viewing the different parts of the city, and
its various curiosities, before sitting down to those important
studies in which he felt conscious he was destined
shortly to become a great and distinguished adept.

In the course of a few days Van Stetter, who had been
absent on business most of the time since the introduction
above mentioned, called at Timothy's room and brought

him a large supply of masonic books; and at the same
time informed him that the lodge of which he was a member
held a meeting that evening, and gave him an invitation
to attend as a visiting brother. Timothy was overjoyed
at this gratifying intelligence and thankfully accepted
the kind invitation of his friend. Accordingly at the appointed
hour, they repaired to the lodge-room. Here they
found a goodly number of the brethren assembled, although
the lodge was not yet called to order. This gave
Timothy an excellent opportunity of being personally introduced
to most of the members, by all of whom he was
received and treated with many flattering attentions. And
not a little elated were his feelings by such a reception
from men of the appearance and consequence of those by
whom he was now surrounded. He felt that glow of inward
complacency which is ever experienced by modest
merit when treated according to its conscious worth; and
he perceived at once how greatly he had been underrated
by the world. But now he had at last got into that sphere
for which his high endowments had designed him, and from
which he had been kept only by his inauspicious fortune
that had thrown him among those who were incapable
of appreciating his merits. Equally gratifying likewise
was this meeting to our hero in other respects. The
gifted promptitude with which the work of the lodge was
performed—the splendour of the furniture, the rich dresses,
and the dazzling decorations of the members, together
with the convivial elegance of the refreshments, did not
fail to make a lively impression on the mind of one who, as
yet, had seen only the interior of an ill-furnished lodge-room
in the Green-Mountains; and he went home filled
with renewed love and veneration for the mystic beauties
of divine Masonry.

In about a week after the lodge meeting above mentioned,
a meeting of the Temple Royal Arch Chapter was holden
at Temple Lodge Room in the city; and Timothy, at
the suggestion of his friend, Van Stetter, preferred his application
to that body for receiving the Royal Arch degree.

Having presented his credentials from the Lodge, where he
was initiated and received the subordinate degrees, to several
of his masonic acquaintance, he was by their recommendations
balloted in; and, as there was another applicant
for the degree present, it was proposed to make up the
team, as it is beautifully termed in masonic technics, by a
volunteer, and exalt both the candidates that very evening.
The imagination of Timothy had long dwelt with rapture on
the happy hour which was to make him a Royal Arch Mason,
and now as that much desired event was at hand, his feelings
and fancy were wrought up to the highest pitch of expectation;
and it was with the most trembling anxiety,
and fearful interest that he entered upon this new and untried
scene in the vast labyrinth of masonic wonders. Yet
he manfully submitted to the ceremonials; and as brightly
as he had pictured to himself the glories of this degree he
found the reality still more splendid and impressive. But
I will not attempt to describe the deep and mingled emotions,
the rapid alternations of fear, amazement and admiration
which took possession of his breast as he passed
through those august and awful ceremonies—as he now
encountered the living arch, formed by the conjoined hands
of two long rows of the brethren, and thus compassing numerous
manual cross-chains which rose and fell like so many
saw-gates, over the impeded path of the low-stooping
candidate who strove on beneath in all the bother and agony
of a poor wretch running the gauntlet, sometimes cuffed
and buffetted, sometimes knocked back, sometimes
pitched forward, and sometimes entirely overthrown and
kept scrambling on his back, like some luckless mud-turtle
in the hands of a group of mischievous urchins, till the
sport had lost its charms of novelty for the tittering brotherhood—as
he now took the rough and rugged rounds of
his dark and perplexing pilgrimage, sometimes hobbling
over net-ropes, chairs and benches, sometimes tumbling
headlong over heaps of wood and faggots, and sometimes
compelled to dodge, curl down his head, hop up, or dance
about, to save his pate and shins from clubs, brick-bats and
cannon balls, that fell and flew about the room in all directions
on the breaking down of the walls of Jerusalem—as now
he was lowered down into the dark, subterraneous vault to
find the sacred ark, in the shape of an old cigar-box, and
was scorched,suffocated, and blown almost sky high by a terrible
explosion of burning gun-powder—as now he kneeled
at the altar to take the voluntary oath, under the pressure
of sharp instruments and uplifted swords—as he now listened
to the deep toned and solemn prayer of the High
Priest—and, in fine, as now he was admitted to the light,
and beheld the splendid furniture of the lodge-room, the
gorgeous robes of scarlet and purple of the Council, the
white garments and glittering breast-plate of the High
Priest, and the crimson habiliments of the Grand King,
wearing the awful mitre, inscribed, “Holiness to the
Lord.”

But these scenes of almost oppressive sublimity were occasionally
relieved by those of a lighter character; and
the comic and amusing, like sunshine through a summer's
cloud, often broke beautifully in to enliven and diversify
the performance.

As the old Jewish guide who personates Moses leading
the children of Israel through the wilderness, under the masonic
title of Principal Sojourner, now conducted the
hoodwinked candidates through or rather over the semblant
wilderness of the lodge-room, consisting, as before
intimated, of heaps of wood, brush, chairs and benches,
the company, bating the unavoidable affliction of battered
shins and broken noses, met with many amusing adventures.
On arriving at each of the guarded passes on their
rout, or veils as they are technically called, the guide was
compelled to give certain pass-words before they were suffered
to proceed. But Moses, being now somewhat old, and
having grown rather rusty in the use of these words, it having
been about a thousand years since he had used them
much, was often sadly puzzled to recollect them, and
made many diverting mistakes in endeavoring to give them
at the places where they were required. “I am that I am,”

being the pass-words for the first veil, Moses, as he approached
the master, exclaimed in his Jewish brogue,
“What a ram I am?” The master shook his head. “I
am dat ram, den,” said the improving guide—`No!' said
the master. “Well den,” said Moses, “I am dat I ram”
—not quite—“I am dat I am.” `Right, worthy pilgrims,'
said the master, `proceed on your way. I see you
have the true pass-words. You will find many difficulties
to encounter. Your next pass-words are Shem, Ham and
Japhet—don't forget them.' Thus permitted to proceed, they
pursued their journey and soon arrived at the next veil. But
here again, alas for the memory of poor old Moses—the
pass-words, which he had been so strictly charged to remember,
had quite escaped him; but the old sojourner
had no notion of giving up in despair, and accordingly he
at once put his wits to the trumps in trying to stumble
again on the words of this masonic Se same. And soon beginning
to rally his scattered ideas, and remembering the
pass-words consisted of the names of three men of scriptural
notoriety, he, with that inimitable humour and drollery
with which Masonry has here so appositely invested his
character, now cried out to the master, “She shake, Me
shake and Abed-we-go.” But the master gave him so stern
a look of rebuke that it threw him at first into some confusion.
Soon recovering, however, he hammed and hawed
once or twice, and, in a subdued tone of voice, said, “Shadrach,
Meshack and Abednigo.” `No! no!' said the master.

“Well, it was some tree peoples I be sure,” said the
guide scratching his head and looking round in obvious
perplexity, “it was, let me see, it was, `Shem, Japhet and
Bacon-leg.”'

The master still shook his head, but with a look of more
encouragement.

“It was den, it was Shem, Japhet and Ham which be de
same nor bacon-leg.”

“Try again, worthy pilgrim,” said the softening master.

“Oh! Ah!” exclaimed Moses with urekaen rapture, “I
have it now, it was `Shem, Ham and Japhet.”'

Such is a faint sample of the scintillations of wit and
the bright flashes of thought and fancy that were made to
sparkle and shine through this splendid performance; and
accompanied as these chaste and innocent sallies always
were by the most exhilerating shouts of laughter and applause
from the surrounding companions, it failed not to
render the scene one of indescribable interest.

Nor were other parts of the performance much less replete
with interest and instructive amusement. After the
finding of the long lost ark, the opening of that sacred vessel,
and the discovery of the bible in the presence of the
council, who make the walls of the lodge-room resound
with hallelujahs of rejoicing on the occasion; the detection
of a substance which the High Priest “guesses, presumes
and finally declares to be manna,” comprised a
scene alike delightful to the curious, the thoughtless and
the learned. And then the closing, the closing act of this
magnificent drama! the marching in a circle of the gay
and glittering companions—the three times three raising
of the arms, stamping of the feet and spatting of the hands
—the breaking off into tripple squads and the raising of the
Royal or Living Arch, chanting in deep toned cadences
beneath its apex of bumping heads, that sublime motto of
metrical wisdom—

What could be more grand, more imposing and beautiful!
Our hero stood wrapt in admiration at the spectacle.
The early associations of his childhood rushed instantly on
his mind; for he here at once beheld the origin, as well as
the combined beauties of those exquisite little juvenile
dramas which have ever been the praise and delight of
succeeding generations:

And again that other no less beautiful one, where the resemblance
is still more striking—

In this degree also, besides the invaluable acquisition of
the long lost word which is here regained, the key to the
ineffable characters or Royal Arch Cypher, and many other
secrets of equally momentous consequence, our hero gained
much historical information which was equally new and
important, and which served to correct some erroneous impressions
which he had derived from those uncertain authorities,
the common uninitiated historians. It was here he
learned for the first time the interesting circumstance that
the bible was discovered and preserved by Zerubbabel and
his companions, all Royal Arch Masons; and consequently
that but for Masonry all Christendom would even to
this day have been groping in pagan darkness. Here also
was brought to light the astounding fact that Moses, as
before intimated, lived to the unparalleled age of about
one thousand years! This fact which is obtained only
through the medium of Masonry, he inferred with indisputable
certainty from that part of the degree which represents
Moses present and yet hale and hearty, at the destruction
or breaking down of the walls of Jerusalem, and
indeed for years after, which every chronologist knows would
make him of the age I have mentioned. These two facts
alone, if nothing else were contained in this degree, would
be sufficient to render it of incalculable importance; but
these were but as a drop of the bucket compared with the
great arcana of hidden knowledge which was here unfolded,
and all of it too of equal importance and authenticity
of the specimens just given. Deeply indeed did the thirsty
soul of Timothy drink in the treasured beauties of this concealed
fountain of light and wisdom. All that he had before
seen of the glories of Freemasonry fell far short, in his

opinion, of the mingled beauty, wisdom and magnificence
of this closing act in the great and stupendous drama of
ancient Freemasonry. Nor was he at all singular in this
opinion. Other great men have considered this degree
the same, as I am gratified to learn from a recent work by
my acute and accomplished masonic cotemporary, Mr. W.
L. Stone, who considers this degree “far more splendid and
effective than either of its predecessors;” while of those
predecessors, or inferior degrees, he says they “impressed
lessons on his mind which he hopes will never be effaced.”
Thus we here see one of those singular and striking
coincidences which will often happen in the views and impressions
which have been entertained on the same point
by two such minds as those of our hero, and the unbiased
author above quoted, when they would have no means of
knowing the opinions entertained by each other.

But as beautiful and perfect as our hero considered this
noble degree, there was yet one little scene which he believed
to be capable of improvement. It was that in
which the High Priest, on opening the discovered ark, finds
a substance which he and the Council, after tasting, smelling
and divers other evidences of doubt, concluded to be
manna. Now the improvements suggested, consisted in
calling up old Moses, who was then on the spot to settle
the question at once, whether the substance was manna or
not; for he, it will be recollected, was the very person
who put it in the ark, eight or nine hundred years before,
when he and his people were in the wilderness, feeding on
this same manna, of course he would at once determine
whether this was the same kind of stuff which formerly
served for the fish, flesh, fowl, bread and pudding, of his
breakfast, dinner and supper. This suggested improvement,
however, in which I have the happiness to concur
with my hero, is now submitted to the craft with the most
humble deference, but should it meet with their approbation,
and especially that of my friend Mr. Stone, they and
he are heartily welcome to the suggestion; and I shall
wait with some anxiety for the appearance of the next edition

of the work of that author, to see whether he considers
the proposed alteration, worthy of adoption. But to return to
our hero. How was his mind raised and expanded by the
scenes of this glorious evening! A few months before, he
would have thought, in his ignorance, the use of that
awful epithet, “I am that I am,” in the manner above described,
to be nothing less than the most daring impiety,
and the representation of God in the burning bush, the
height of blasphemous presumption. But now, he the
more admired the privileges of that institution which permits
its sons to do that with impunity, and even praise,
which in the rest of the world would be audacious and
criminal. And he could not help looking with pity on the
condition of all those yet out of the pale of the masonic
sanctum sanctorum. For he was now fully satisfied that all
wisdom, virtue and religion are here concentrated. And
he felt himself immeasurably exalted above the rest of
mankind, like one of the superior beings in full fellowship
with God, whom he had just seen represented as one mingling
in the ceremonies of the lodge-room.