University of Virginia Library

14. CHAPTER XIV.

The next morning, Timothy, having passed a night of
much crural uneasiness, rose early, and went down to the
bar, with a view of getting some brandy to bathe his shins.
Here he encountered Van Stetter, who, being just in the
act of taking his morning potation, warmly pressed the
former to join him, telling him that the internal application
of a double fog-cutter, would prove a much more pleasant
and effective medicine, to one in his condition. But our
hero rather declined the prescription, observing that he
usually drank but little spirits, and he had always thought
that the habit of daily drinking was inconsistent with correct

morals. Van Stetter at first endeavored to laugh
Timothy out of such countryfied whims, but finding him serious
in what he had said, recourse was next had, to argument.

“I did not expect,” said Van Stetter, “to hear such silly
scruples from so bright a Mason as you are, Mr. Peacock.”

`I was not under the awarement,' observed Timothy,
`that masonry propelled its approbation towards drinking.'

“There is where you are sadly in the dark,” replied the
other. “Do not the highest and brightest of our sublime
order, set us the example of a free use of the enlivening
bowl? And do not the precepts of the most approved
writers among the craft directly sanction the practice?
You cannot have forgotten those soul-cheering lines in
the Book of Constitutions—

`It is very true,' observed Timothy, his early impressions
beginning to give way before the direct, and not to be
mistaken, meaning of this quotation, `it is true I have read
the lines, and often heard them songnified in the lodge-room;
and would not be understood to nullify, or extenuate
their veracity; but I had supposed that they applied
only to the circumvented potables of the craft in lodge-meetings,
where I take it the liquor is in a sort sanctified
by the ratification of its use in masonic purposes, after the
similified example of the wine in sacramental churchifications.'

“That cannot be the case,” said the merchant, “for if
it was as you suppose, drinking would have been made a

part of the ceremonies, instead of being resorted to, as it
always is, only in time of refreshment. No, brother Peacock,
you entertain very erroneous notions on the subject.
The meaning of these lines, and numerous other passages
of the same import, to be found in this great guide and
teacher of all true Masons, evidently is, that the craft are
particularly privileged to indulge in the luxury of good
liquors, on all proper occasions, when they should never
prove cravens at the bumper.”

`I begin to see through my perceptions more clearly,'
said our hero, `and I am free to confess that your remarks
have transfused so much rationality into the matter, that it
is now transparent to my cogitations. But I take it that
there is nothing in the Book of Constitutions, that inclines
to a recommendment of morning drams, which I have been
taught to believe are injurious to the obstetrical department
of the stomach.'

“Now hear that,” exclaimed Van Stetter, laughing,—
“was there ever such a scrupulous animal for a man of
your cloth;—such a doctor of doubts and divinity preaching
and hesitating over a fog-cutter! Why, man, it is the
very thing for the stomach, to correct the crudities and
keep out the fog and chill in such dark mornings as these.
But to put the matter at rest in your mind, I can refer you
to a verse in one of the odes in the Book of Constitutions,
which expressly gives its approbation to the wholesome
practice of moistening our systems with a good glass of a
morning. It runs thus:—

Timothy could no longer withstand such arguments,
backed as they were by these palpable quotations, taken
directly from the very scriptures of Masonry. And with
that frankness, which is the peculiar characteristic of noble
minds, when convinced of the truth, he freely gave up
the point in dispute, making many apologies for his unjust
prejudices, and manitesting no little chagrin at this detection

of his ignorance of masonic principles. But my
readers in general, I trust, will hold him at least excusable,
when it is recollected that as yet he had enjoyed but limited
opportunities of imbibing the true spirit of masonic philosophy
to free him from those prejudices which he had
received from the feeble light of uninitiated wisdom, and
to correct those narrow notions which had been implanted
in his mind by the lessons of the nursery. And even my
masonic readers, I cannot but indulge the hope, will extend
their charity, and kindly overlook this sin of ignorance
in a brother; and more especially so, when they
learn, how cheerfully he now gave evidence of the sincerity
of his conviction, in the manful acceptance of the proffered
glass, and never afterwards, either in theory or practice,
had the slightest indication to relapse into that error
from which he had been thus kindly rescued.

Time, with our hero, now rolled pleasantly away. His
days were spent in the most assiduous devotion to his masonic
studies; and his evenings at the lodge-room, or at
the store of Van Stetter, in company of a few choice spirits
of the mystic tie, occasionally diversified, however, by
visiting places of public resort, and taking moonlight rambles
about the city. In one of these rambles, a little incident
occurred, which, as it may serve to illustrate some of
the less known principles of Divine Masonry, is perhaps
worthy of a place in these instructive adventures. As
Timothy was returning homeward one night, at a rather
late hour, and passing a house, which Van Stetter had
before pointed out to him as the residence of a new star in
the courts of pleasure, he heard a great outcry within;
while at the same time, a lady appeared at the door, crying
aloud for assistance. Rushing immediately into the apartment
from which the noise proceeded, he beheld two men
in a desperate conflict, which was instantly brought to a
close, however, by one felling the other to the floor with
a heavily loaded cane. At the first glance which Timothy
cast at the conqueror, (who paused a moment over the apparently
lifeless body of his prostrate foe,) he knew he had

seen the man somewhere before—a second look told him,
to his surprise, it was no other than the pious dignitary,
whose deep and devotional tones of voice, on the evening
of his own exaltation to the Royal Arch degree, had filled
his mind with such solemn reverence. The recognition
was mutual, but attended with evident confusion on the
part of the man in the broil, who making the Royal Arch
sign to Timothy, instantly glided out of the house, leaving
the latter in care of the dead or wounded man, still lying
on the floor without the least sign of reanimation. Scarcely
had our hero time to recover from his surprise, when the
lady, who had run out for help, returned with two men, all
of whom eagerly inquired for the aggressor. On finding
he had just escaped, they sharply interrogated Timothy
respecting his name, abode, and his knowledge of the person
who had committed the deed. To all of which he
gave true answers, except the last item in the catechism,
which he well knew his obligation required him to conceal.
Being convinced that Timothy was no accomplice
in the transaction, they proceeded to take up the yet lifeless
man, and put him on to a bed, suffering the former to
depart unmolested. As soon as our hero reached his lodgings,
he took his friend Van Stetter aside and informed
him of the whole adventure, expressing his surprise that a
man so gifted and apparently devotional in the prayers and
other religious exercises of the lodge-room, should be
found visiting such establishments.

Van Stetter could scarcely refrain from laughing at the
last observation of Timothy, but kindly attributing it to
inexperience in the indulgences vouchsafed by the liberal
principles of Masonry, he immediately undertook the task
of setting the matter in its proper light. “In the very
prayer to which you have alluded, brother Peacock,” said
he, “you may infer a sanction of the indulgences which
you seem so inclined to censure in our illustrious companion.
You will recollect, probably, this passage in the
prayer in question: `We bless thee that when man had
fallen from his innocence and his happiness, thou didst

leave him the powers of reasoning, and capacity of improvement,
and of pleasure.' Here you must see that the capacity
for pleasure which our exalted brother was improving,
is accounted as a privilege to the craft, for which they
should be thankful to heaven. And again the same prayer
says, `Give us grace diligently to search thy word in the
book of nature, wherein the duties of our high vocation are
inculcated with divine authority.' Now if we are to look
to the book of nature for our guide, as is here directly intimated,
where is the brother whose nature does not occasionally
point to these pleasures in which you seem to doubt
the propriety of indulging?”

Timothy could not gainsay this argument, drawn as he
knew it was from the most solemn part of the mystic
creed; and he silently acquiesced in the views of his more
experienced brother. “I see how it is with you,” continued
Van Stetter, after a short pause, and it was the same
with me before my mind received the full light of Masonry.
You cannot at once break through the mists of early prejudices
and notions, which are perhaps wisely enough too,
intended to restrain and govern the uninitiated world, who,
in their blinded condition, have nothing better to guide
them. But we, who have been admitted to the true light,
have laws and rules to guide as superior to all others, and
whatever they sanction, we need have no scruples in practicing.
But as I see you are now convinced of all this, let
us return to our first subject. There may something grow
out of this affair that will require consideration on another
point. You say the man scarcely gave signs of life when
you left him?”

`I certainly considered the poor fellow,' replied Timothy,
`but little better than totally extinguished.'

“Did you learn who he was, and what gave rise to the
squabble,” asked Van Stetter?

`I heard the lady say,' said the other, `that he lived
with a saddler in the upper part of the city; and, as far as
I could digest a legible conjecture as to the causes of the
belligerent catasterophy, from all I heard devised and intimated

on the subject, I opinionate that the man had a premature
engagement with the lady, which she nullified in
favor of the more superfine embellishments of our worthy
companion.'

“Nothing more likely,” observed Van Stetter, “but did
you learn whether they knew who our brother was?”

`I suppose not,' replied Timothy, `as the lady said it
was a Mr. Montague.'

“Good!” exclaimed the other, “he had the caution to
go under an assumed name. Perhaps all may go well, but
I fear the wounded man may know our companion, and
expose his name, should the poor creature get so as to
speak. Now what I have been coming at, brother Peacock,
is this—suppose this man dies, or is like to die, and
our exalted brother in the difficulty should be discovered
and arrested; and you should be summoned as a witness
against him, what should you swear to?”

`Swear to?' replied Timothy, `why I should swear to all
I knew, why not?'

“What!” said Van Stetter, “would you betray a brother
Royal Arch, when the other party does not even belong
to the craft in any degree?”

`Why how could I help it,' said Timothy, surprised at
the earnest and censorious manner of the other, `how
could I help telling all I know about this casual dilemma;
for I shall be under bodily oath to tell the truth, the whole
truth, and nothing but the truth?'

“Would you dare to break your solemn obligations?”
said the other, with a withering frown. “Have you not
sworn, under the dreadful penalty of having your scull
cleaved from your head, that you will aid and assist a companion,
Royal Arch Mason, when engaged in any difficulty;
and espouse his cause, so far as to extricate him from the same,
if in your power, whether he be right or wrong? And would
not your companion be in difficulty in such a case? and
would it not be in your power to extricate, or clear him,
by swearing that he was not the man that you saw knock
down the other in the broil? And again have you not

sworn in the same fearful oath, that a companion, Royal
Arch Mason's secrets, given you in charge as such, and you
knowing them to be such, shall remain as secure and inviolable
in your breast, as his own, murder and treason not excepted?
And did not your companion in this case, make you the
sign, and thus give you in charge the secret of his being at
that place, and of the deed he had committed? What say
you to all this? Speak! for we must know who there is
among us that will dare to betray the secrets of the
craft.”

Our hero was dumbfounded. The difficulties of the
supposed case, now for the first time, flashed vividly across
his mind. On the one hand was his civil oath, a breach of
which he had been taught to hold as the most heinous of
crimes—while on the other, stood his masonic obligations
with their terrible penalties, in direct conflict with his civil
duties, staring him full in the face! It was a dilemma
which he had never foreseen; and now as it was a situation
in which probably he would soon be placed, his heart sunk
within him at the distressing thought. Troubled and confused,
he knew not what to say or think, and he humbly
threw himself on the mercy of his friend, imploring forgiveness
if he had done wrong, and asking advice how to act in
case he should be called into court, and wishing to hear
explained how these two conflicting obligations were reconciled
with each other.

Van Stetter, now instantly softening down to the most
soothing and friendly tones, assured Timothy that there
was no doubt or difficulty at all in the case. That it was
an undoubted duty to protect a brother in trouble, whatever
might become of his civil oath, which every true Mason
took, when it was forced upon him in these cases, with
the mental reservation, that he would tell all except what
might be inconsistent with his more sacred masonic obligation.
And when he did this, he would commit no crime
in stating what would be necessary to extricate a companion
from difficulty, while at the same time he could save
himself from the awful guilt of breaking the oaths of his

order. Saying this, and exhorting Timothy to be true and
steadfast, should any thing happen to put his fidelity to the
test, Van Stetter bid his friend good night, and retired to
his own apartment.

The events of the following day showed that the fears
and anticipations of our two friends were not unfounded.
Their luckless companion was arrested and brought before
a city magistrate, on the charge of assault with intent to
kill. And Timothy was summoned to appear forthwith as
a witness against him. Scarcely had the officer finished
reading his summons, before Van Stetter, who had early
been apprised of what was going forward, appeared, and
requesting a moment's indulgence of the former, while he
transacted some important business with his friend, took
Timothy aside, and informed him that the brethren had already
held a hasty consultation on the business, which
began to wear, he said, rather a serious appearance.
“The fellow is scarcely expected to live,” he continued,
“and they have found a new witness in a man who was
most unluckily going by the door as the accused was coming
out, when he left you, and what was still worse, this
witness caught a glimpse of his face, and knew him, which
led to his arrest. Now if this man appears, as he doubtless
will, as well as the girl, we fear it will be a tough case. But,
as good luck will have it, the magistrate is a Royal Arch, and
if you prove true, Timothy, we think all will turn out
right. We have concluded that the only safe way will be
for you to swear plumply, as I intimated last night, that
the accused is not the person you saw engaged in the affray.
This will save him. And now, brother Peacock, in
one word, can we trust you? All eyes will be upon you,
and it is the very time for you to immortalize yourself with
the brotherhood of this city.”

Our hero having mastered all his scruples on this subject,
and being most anxious to retrieve his masonic character,
which he feared had suffered in the eyes of Van
Stetter, by his late doubts, now felt proud by the opportunity
of evincing his fidelity to the brotherhood; and assuring

his friend of his fixed resolution to be true, he joined
the officer and proceeded to the place of trial. On the
way, several of his masonic acquaintances, falling in with
him, still more encouraged him to persevere in his determinations
by their looks and by whispering in his ear, as
apportunities presented, their brief exhortations to be
steadfast in the good purpose. On arriving at the court
room, our hero found the trial was already in progress.
The grounds of the prosecution having been stated, the
girl, at whose house the broil happened, was called on for
her testimony. Besides the particulars which led to the
quarrel, she plumply and positively swore to the identity
of the prisoner at the bar, with the person who gave the
deadly blow. This testimony, of itself, so clear and full
as it was, very evidently impressed the minds of the by-standers,
with the opinion of the prisoner's guilt; and being
strongly confirmed by the next witness, who was
equally positive that the person whom he saw coming out
of the house at the time and place mentioned by the other
witness, was no other than the accused, the cause began
now to be considered a clear one, and not an individual
present, except the brotherhood, supposed that there was
the slightest chance for the acquittal of the accused. But
how little did they know of the saving virtues of Freemasonry—of
the power and strength of its mystic tie. Events
soon told them that they had reckoned without their host.
Our hero was now called on to the stand. Casting his
eyes around on the spectators, he met the riveted and
meaning glances of many a brother, waiting in breathless
solicitude, for that important testimony which was to furnish
the promised proof of his fidelity. He read at once
in their looks, their expectations and requirements, and he
was happy in feeling that they were not to be disappointed—that
they were about to behold so conspicuous an example
of his devotion to the glorious principles of Freemasonry.
He then, with an air big with the consciousness
of the responsibility which devolved upon him, proceeded
to give in his testimony, stating that he was present at the
affray when a man was struck down and wounded by a
severe blow from another man, but positively denied that
the accused was the person who committed the deed, or
that he was present at the time or before or after it happened.
The girl looked at our hero with undissembled
amazement. And the council for the prosecution would
not believe that the witness testified as he intended, till he
had put the same question over and over again, and as
often received the same positive answers. A murmur of
surprise and suspicion ran through the crowd, and the low
muttered words, “perjury, bribery” &c. from the friends of
the wounded man occasionally became audible. But
Timothy regarded not these out-breakings of malice and
blinded ignorance, for he saw that in the grateful and approving
looks of his brethren around him, that assured him
of their protection and a safe immunity from the operation
of any of those narrow rules of local justice, which the
uninitiated might attempt to enforce against him. The
trial was now soon brought to a close. The accused
bringing one other witness to prove him at another part of
the city, within a few minutes of the time when the broil
was stated to have taken place, there rested his defence.
The council for the prosecution, having been so taken by
surprise, by the testimony of Timothy, his own witness, as
to throw him into confusion, and spoil his premeditated
speech, proposed to his brother to submit the facts without
argument, which being acceded to, the court now took
the case. When the magistrate, taking up the only point,
at issue, whether the accused was or was not, the person
who committed the deed, and balancing the testimony of
the last witness, proving the accused in another part of the
city at or near the time, against that of the man passing
by, who was greatly liable to be mistaken in deciding upon
personal identity by moonlight, and weighing the assertions
of Timothy, an unimpeached witness against those of
a girl of ill fame, was at no loss in perceiving which way
the scales of justice preponderated; and he therefore pronounced
a full acquittal of the prisoner.

There was no noisy exultation on the part of the brotherhood
at this triumph of their principles; but though every
thing was conducted with that prudence and caution
so characteristic of the order; though scarcely a sign of
rejoicing was visible among them; yet Timothy, on leaving
the house, and on his way homeward, soon discovered, in
the silent and cordial grasp of the hand, in the speaking
look, or the low whispered “Well done thou faithful,” how
important that triumph was considered, and how highly
estimated were those services by which it was accomplished.

Our hero was ever after the favorite of his city brotherhood.