“There, what do you think of it?”

6

"Why, I think there was something very inconsistent in the affair; that the two professions are quite incompatible with each other. A Mason-Soldier is as great an anomaly as a Fighting Quaker; nay, of the two, the brain-spattering, windpipe-slitting art' must become a Brother even less than a Friend. And, besides, it is too like 'Exclusive Dealing.' As a lover of fair play, I cannot admire the bestowing the mercy and benediction on one head, and the curse and the sabre on another; for, of course, the next poor Frenchman who could not give the sign was carved into Scotch collops."

"Hush hush pray speak lower. I'm all of a trem

ble."

"Pshaw! let the whole world hear me. I say, a Mason ought not to be in such a scene at all. I think I see him with his teeth clenched his eyes flashing fire hewing slashing -stabbing-running a poor fellow Christian clean through the body with a 'There! Take that, from a Brother of the Lodge of Benevolence !'”

Pray - pray not so loud.”

he

"Nonsense! let me finish my picture. Down goes the Frenchman, of course a victim to Universal Philanthropy. But he is not quite dead he breathes he moves groans, kicks, and writhes in agony, making a hundred natural signs of distress, if not the masonic one when fortunately he is perceived by one of an order devoted to works of mercy a Sister of Charity who hastens to his reliefbut no by Jove! she finishes him!"

"What! kills him!"

"Yes and why not? Where a Brother of Benevolence thrusts his sword, a Sister of Charity may surely poke her scissors,"

CHAPTER III.

BUT the Secret!

"The Secret-the Secret!" cry a thousand daughters of Eve, not degenerated from their great first parent in the article of curiosity.

"The Secret!" shout five hundred Paul Prys, quite as in

quisitive as if they wore petticoats, and went mystery-hunting in bonnets and pattens.

"The Secret the Secret the Secret! scream ten thousand of both sexes, who as boys and girls in their provincial towns have trotted till dog-tired after the masonic processions not more delighted with the music, the banners, the scarves, and aprons, and the glittering emblems of the craft, than astounded by the stupendous dignity of Mr. Gubbins, and the supernatural solemnity of young Griggs. Well do I remember wearing out a pair of my own little shoes with tagging after the Stoke Pogis Lodge of Ancient Druids, every man of them looking at the least a conjurer, and the Grand Master like a very King Solomon! No wonder Widow Drury called on him the very next morning to beg him to unbewitch her red cow and to find out, by his Bible and compasses who had stolen her black pig! "Ize warrant," said she, “he knows more secrets than one!" "Yes, yes, the Secret whole herd of the curious

the Secret!" bellows out the "that's what we want!"

No doubt. And so did Mrs. Stringer when she drove her husband, by her curiosity, into the other world. In vain the poor man pleaded his oath to his lodge, that he dared not divulge the mysterious formula under the most awful penalties, that he might drop stone-dead at her feet, or at the least be struck deaf and dumb; that he should be burked, kidnapped, poisoned. In vain he told her a hundred stories, true or invented, of blabbing Masons who had been stabbed, shot, drowned, or whisked away from the face of the earth, as if by evil spirits. The perverse inquisitiveness of the woman pertinaciously insisted on the revelation; sometimes by coaxing, sometimes by threats, and, above all, by interminable curtain lectures on mutual confidence in the married state. even helped him to get into his cups, in the hope that he might babble out the mystery in his tipsy loquacity. Worst of all, she set all her she-gossips on him, all giving tongue to the same text the abominableness of reserve towards the wife of his bosom. In short, the poor fellow became weary of his life; so weary, indeed, that one morning he was discovered hanging from a beam in the garret, with the following bitter billet pinned to his bosom:

She

“Mrs. S. — I am gone to learn the GREAT SECRET You shall know it when I come back.

"S. S."

;

"Ah! the Secret! the Secret!" That unlucky word has revived all the old hubbub; the female voices screaming high above the rest of the chorus. I verily believe that when Pandora pryed in the fatal Box she thought it contained the mystic paraphernalia of the craft; that when Fatima determined to inspect the forbidden Chamber, she fancied that it was a Masonic Lodge. Nay, I verily believe the fair creatures long to have a lodge or two of their own!

"And why not, sir?" exclaims a little brisk body, bustling up like an offended bantam, "why not, sir? Why should n't there be she Masons as well as he ones, and particularly considering what masonry sets up for, namely, wisdom, strength, and beauty, in which last our sex has always been allowed to stand first? Sure am I we should look quite as well as the men do, in jewels, and sashes, and aprons, let alone personal charms. As to which I may say, without vanity, whether for face or figure, I'm quite as fit for a public procession as that regular Guy, old Griffis, with his red nose, and pot-belly, and spindle-shanks. Then as to wisdom; to be sure that nincum, Mr. Boggles, is a fine model of it; -who knows his own mind one minute, and don't know it the next, any more than if it was a shabby acquaintance."

There's some women

“And as regards strength, ma'am.” "Well, as regards strength, sir. could knock down some men with a poker. There's myself supposing it was proper for females to be pugilistical I should n't mind fisticuffing little Snitch the tailor, and he's a Mason, in a roped ring. I did have a scuffle once with a man when I was the Bear, and I've had two or three since I've been the Dragon."

"A masonic sign, I presume, ma'am."

“No—a ninn. Talking of signs, I've talked on my fingers by the hour together, to the deaf and dumb boy at our next door. So, if that's masonry, I'm fit for it already. But any one can make signs. Even the little blaggard boys that take sights, as they call it, just as if they was blowing a flageolet with their noses, and playing on it with their fingers, only they've no flageolet."

"Little Sons of Harmony,' perhaps."

"No, sir; little sons of the parish. As to signs and signals, I'd back old Jack Duff, at the telegrafts, agin the best Mason as stands in shoe-leather. And what's more to the pint, when old Jack's laid up, his wife telegrafts for him and as well as he can let alone she once put up the highwater flag instead of the low one, and by which the Lovely Nancy struck the bar, and got knocked to pieces. The more fool she for striking first!"

Very true, ma'am."

"Howsomever, as I said afore, why should n't women be Masons as well as the male sex, who, for all their fuss about Brotherhood and Benevolence, are not a bit fonder of mankind than we are?"

"That, ma'am, is undeniable."

Certainly, ma'am.

"To be sure we may n't be quite such dabs at chiselling and levelling as the regular Operatives; but we could get through it allegollically as well as the best of them; for they do say, that, except laying a first stone now and then, it's only playing at Bilding and Arketecter, after all, and their trowels have as little to do with mortering as my own fish-slice.” But some of the Masonic orders are the Knight Templars, for instance." "Ah! them's another thing. And to go fighting and skrimmaging abroad with Turks and Tartars is, to be sure, rather out of Woman's provinces. Not to name the Encampments, and which is hardly fit for females, except the gypsy ones that are accustomed to living in tents."

Military ones

"Of course, ma'am. I will ask only one more question, and pray excuse it; but the fair are popularly supposed to be rather accessible to curiosity. Do you really think, then, that a lady could preserve the Masonic Secret?

"The Secret! the Secret!" the old chorus strikes up, only with twice as strong a company as before; for all the young ladies' schools in London have chimed in; and there is no such Secret-monger in the world as your Miss in her teens. They must be pacified somehow.

My dear ladies

"My dear ladies and gentlemen, only one word. How do you know there is any Secret at all? "

CHAPTER IV.

Now I think of it, there was once a female who contrived to be present at a Masonic Meeting.

"To be sure there was!" exclaims the little bustling body of the Dragon, " for it was me myself!

"You, ma'am?”

"Yes, me, sir. And the way were this. There was an execution put in at the White Horse, which, in consequence, could n't be convival; and as Masons likes to lay a good foundation, the warden applies to the Dragon, for hospitality, and engages my great club-room. There was to be grand doings, and especially initiating of new members; and thinks I, if I don't initiate myself at the same time, I'm no woman. So I takes out the shelves in the club-room closet, which, by good luck, would just hold my low easy-cheer, in which I could sit comfortable, with my eye flush with the keyhole. First taking a glass of cordial to steady my nerves, having such a Mellow Drammer, as I may say, agoin to be acted afore me. For they do say there's awful ceremonies at the binding of fresh Apprentices, and what with brandishing red-hot pokers, and flashing naked swords overhead, a Mason, after being 'nitiated. need n't fear nothin' for the rest of his life. Well, there I am all snug, but uncommon tedious, for the Grand Lodge of Fidelity was anything but true to their time. However, at long and at last in they come, Grand Masters, Deputy Grands, Past-Masters, Wardens, Tylers, and all the rest of them. Old Griffis, with his red nose and spindle-shanks at their head. I don't mind saying I felt a sort of misgiving come over me, and a wish to be settin anywhere else, partickly with the cramp in both legs, and not daring to call out; for in course I should have been murdered on the spot for prying into their mysteries. But it were too late to alter, so there I was with my two poor calves tying themselves up in double-knots; besides almost bustin with supprest hiccups. Not that I should have minded my sufferings a pin, provided I could have indulged my curiosity; but what with pain, and fright, and nervous noises, in my ears, I was as deaf as a post."

"Why, then, you heard nothing at all? "Not a syllable. Only a sort of mumbling, and a whiz,