■ 
 
 George Washington Flowers 
 Memorial Collection 
 
 
 - 
 
 DUKE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 
 ESTABLISHED BY THE 
 FAMILY OF 
 
 COLONEL FLOWERS 
 
 
 fl 
 
 
 
 m 
 
 
 
 
THE SPECULATIVE TEMPLE, 
 
 ^iv ^i>r>ii^Ess 
 
 DELIVERBD BY 
 
 BRO. JOHN A. LODOR, OF CAIIABA, 
 
 BKF0RE THE 
 
 IN THE MASONIC HALL. 
 
 IN THE 
 
 CITY OF MONTGOMERY, 
 
 ON TUESDAY EVENING , DEC. 3, 1861. 
 
 AND OF WHICH 
 
 30OO Extra Copies were ordered to be Pinnted. 
 
 MONTGOMERY : 
 
 ADVERTISER BOOK AND JOB OFFICE. 
 18G2. 
 
A.DDRESS. 
 
 The SpecLilative Temple. 
 
 Most Worshipful Grand Master, and 
 
 Brethren of the Grand Lodge of Alabama : 
 
 Another year has fled. Another wave is sjjent upon the shore of 
 time. Another link is added to the long chain of years that reach 
 beyond the flood. A year teeming with mighty events, and destined 
 to shape the future of unborn millions, for weal or for woe. A 
 year, whose history when written, will chronicle the convulsion 
 and dismemberment of a great nation — the destruction of one of 
 the fairest temples ever erected to Liberty and dedicated to Free- 
 dom — the erection of another, which Phcenix-like, sprung from a 
 portion of its ruins, more just in its proportions, more severe in its 
 beauty, and better adajited to secure the priceless liberties of those 
 it was designed to shelter and protect. The record will tell too, that 
 its perpetuity has been sealed by the holy rite of baptism in patriot 
 and fraternal blood. 
 
 It is through such a year we have passed. It is through such 
 events Are still are passing ; and although as Freemasons, and here, 
 we will not enter upon any political discussion, yet we cannot, we 
 dare not ignore the startling circumstances by which we are sur- 
 rounded, or neglect to inquii-e in what manner, and to wlA,t extent, 
 they are calculated to affect our mystic brotherhood. Leaving this 
 high duty, however, to those to whom it properly belongs, we confine 
 oui"selves to the less important, but more pleasing task alloted us. 
 
 In the very first hour of our masonic career, we were taught the 
 beautiful and salutary lesson, that no man should ever enter upon 
 any great and important undertaking, without first invoking the 
 blessing of the Deity. This lesson commends itself to us as emi- 
 nently right and proper. It enjoins a duty upon us we all recognize. 
 
It is the homage due from the creature to his Creator, and implies 
 the corresponding truth, that He whoso blessing is invoked hffore 
 the commencement of any great enterprise, is also entitled to thanks 
 after its performance. Recognizing these duties, it becomes particu- 
 larly appropriate for us to return thanks to the Great Architect of 
 the Universe, for the manifold blessings and comforts we have en- 
 joyed during the year now jiast and gone. AVe thank Him that we 
 have been spared, wlien so many have fallen like autumn leaves 
 around us. We thank Uim for the abundance we have enjoyed and 
 shared with others, when so many around us were destitute and in 
 want. We thank Him for the jirivilege of again assembling together 
 in the capacity of a Grand Lodge, and of communing once more 
 around the altar of our mystic temple. We thank Him that while 
 our political sky has *been covered with dark and lurid clouds, our 
 beloved country convulsed and rent in twain, the soil of our native 
 land bathed in fraternal blood, our masonic firmament has been calm, 
 cloudless and serene, its pure atmosphere untainted by any fitful 
 gust of passion, prejudice or fanaticism. We thank Him that while 
 our national temple has crumbled to pieces before our eyes, and its 
 constituent parts resolved into their original elements, our masonic 
 temple still stands supported by Wisdom, Strength and Beauty, with 
 its foundations unshaken, its symmetry perfect, and the sweet in- 
 cense of gratitude yet ascends from our altar to Him in whom we 
 put our trust. 
 
 The age we live in is progressive. The people among whom we 
 dwell are utilitarian. They rush through life with reckless haste, 
 chafing at the tardiness of railroad speed, and craving still greater 
 rapidity for the electric telegraph. They pause but a moment in 
 their career, to apply the practical test, ad bono, to everything under 
 the sun, and unhesitatingly reject all that does not promise an im- 
 mediate and lucrative recompense. Education, busines.s, pleasure, 
 pi'eparation for usefulness and haiDpiness, are all made subservient to 
 the spirit of haste and the spirit of mammon. The slow, method- 
 ical and provident habits of our fathers are scoffed at with mockery 
 and jest, while the impetuosity ot Jeliu commands unqualified ap- 
 probation. 
 
 Such, in a word, is our age and our people, and such in the main, 
 are their characteristics. There are some, however, who yet find 
 time to step aside from the hurried duties and pleasures of active 
 life, and enter our mystic temple, and learn with profit the lessons 
 inculcated there. 
 
 On the wings of imagination they pass back through the long 
 vista of departed years, until they reach that classic, nay, that holy 
 land, immortalized in story and in song, in sacred and profane his- 
 tory. With path illumined by the sacred and historic page, they 
 
THE SPECULATIVE TEMPLE. O 
 
 revel amid scenes of surpassing beauty and thrilling association, in 
 which the gorgeous pictures of the Arabian Nights are equaled, and 
 the brilliant vagaries of the opium eater are excelled. With Moses, 
 from Mount Pisgah, they view the promised land overflowing with 
 milk and honey— in the dim distance they behold the blue waves of 
 Galilee, while upon the mountain tops the cedars of Lebanon rear 
 their lofty summits high in the heavens. 
 
 They pause upon the brow of Mount Moriah to contemplate the 
 magnificent temple there erected by King Solomon to the living 
 God, and dedicated to His holy name. Its rare and matchless 
 beauty — its massive and elaborate proportions — its faultless symme- 
 try—its rich and costly material— its finished workmanship, all com- 
 bine to give it more the appearance of being the handiwoi'k of the 
 Supreme Architect of the Universe than of human hands. Around 
 anil around it they wander, now advancing, now receding, they pause 
 to scrutinize its most minute details from foundation to turret stone. 
 Each separate part undergoes the severest criticism, and a fault or 
 blemish is in vain sought for by the critic's eye. Its vaults and its 
 arches — its gates and its porch — its massive brazen pillars, with its 
 chapitei"s of lilj-, net and pomegranate work — its flight of winding 
 stairs— its mosaic pavement with its tesselated border— its ground 
 floor, middle chamber and sanctum sanctoi'um — its altar and its ora- 
 cle — its cherubim with extended wings— its walls and ceiling of bur- 
 nished gold— its folding doors with cherubim, palm trees and floweis, 
 carved thereon — its windows, spires and domes — its outer courts, its 
 inclosures and its walls, all pass before the scrutinizing gaze, and 
 still, not an imperfection can be discovered. Sei^ai-ately or together, 
 in parts or as a whole, in material or in vrorkmanship, the investiga- 
 tion only discloses its surpassing beauty — its matchless perfection. 
 Admiration gives place to wonder, and wonder to awe, as the con- 
 viction sinks deep in the heart, that this is indeed none other than 
 the house of Qod. 
 
 The temple site is notable. High upon a mountain top, it com- 
 mands an extensive range of vision over the lovely land of Judea, 
 wliose praise has been so often and so well sung by the bards of the 
 Bible. From afar Mount Moriah was seen towering in the heavens, 
 surmounted by the temple glittering in its effulgent splendor, a ven- 
 erated landmark for the pilgrim Israelites, who periodically repaired 
 from Dan to Beersheba, to celebrate the imposing ceremonies of 
 their religion upon its hallowed summit. Upon its sides were groves 
 of stately palms and fragrant bowers, where bloomed the peerless 
 rose of Sharon, while by Siloam's shady rill blossoms the lily of the 
 valley. Here it was that Abraham erected an altar, and was about 
 to offer his only son, a sacrifice upon it, typical of that other sacrifice 
 afterward made upon it, the sublimest spectacle ever beheld by n^an, 
 
the crucifixion of the Son of God. Here too, it was, that David, the 
 poet King of Israel, lived, died, and was buried. Here it was that 
 Solomon dazzled the world with his wisdom, and left a nnme to be 
 honored as long as time shall last. Jerusalem and the temple were 
 the special objects of love, wo had almost said idolatry of the Jews. 
 The first was their holy city, the latter their house of God. As was 
 the sepulchre to the Cliristian, the tomb of the prophet to the Mos- 
 lemite, even so was the temple to the Jew. 
 
 The appointments of the temple were in perfect consonance with 
 its magnificence. A multitude of Levites of high and low degree 
 were constantly engaged in its ministrations. "The more than regal 
 splendor of the high priest arrayed in his sacerdotal robes, the 
 stately and imposing character of their forms and ceremonies, the 
 inflexible rigor with which they were observed, the beautiful order 
 and harmony with which the services of the temple were conducted, 
 the number, variety an costliness of the holy vessels, the scrupu- 
 lous care everywhere apparent, the habitual and universal reverence 
 manifested by the Jews, all combine to command our admiration. 
 
 Viewing thus this magnificent edifice, remembering tlie beauty of 
 its site, and the hallowed associations connected with it, we involun- 
 tarily pause to ruto a parallel between the Jews and ourselves; to 
 compare their temple with ours, and thus to estimate the reverence 
 each felt and manifested for the living God. Involuntary as is the 
 act, the effect is most startling. In vain we cast our eyes around in 
 search of a visible temple. In vain we look amid our piles of wood 
 and stone, of marble and granite, for one whose form, or size, or 
 beaAJty, will allow us, with all our partiality, to compare with tliat on 
 Mount Moriah. So far, then, the evidence of love and devotion is 
 with the Jews, and to them we must award the meed, of praise. We 
 attempt, however, to excuse ourselves for our omission, by the plea 
 that we have no site on which to build, no quarries of stone, no for- 
 ests of timber, no treasyres of gold, silver, or precious stones, no 
 hewers of wood or bearers of burdens, no craftsmen, or cunning 
 workmen, with which to perform this arduous labor, no means with 
 which to procure them, and therefore, we can erect no temple to our 
 God, and make no dedication of it to His holy name. This is the 
 natural, and almost involuntary excuse, and yet, like most pretexts 
 set up for omitted or neglected duty, it is wholly insufficient; nay 
 more, it is untrue. We have the site on which to build, higher and 
 holier than Mount Moriah, in a lovelier clime than that of Judea, 
 beneath a softer sky than thftt of Palestine. We have materials 
 inexhaustible in quantity, and treasures of untold value. We have 
 architects of wondrous skill. We have all the means at our com- 
 mand, and we should use them. We can erect a temple more spa- 
 cious and magnificent than that of Solomon— one that time cannot 
 
THB SPECULATIVE TEMPLE. 7 
 
 affect, that barbarous force shall never destroy, that shall endure 
 forever. 
 
 lie whose voice we recognize in the whirlwind and the storm, in 
 the gentle breeze that rustles the leaves above us, as well as in the 
 muttering of the ocean wave, and pealing of the distant thunder, 
 He hath said, in the great light that shines upon every altar, give ue 
 TUY HEART. It was thci'e we were first prepared to be masons, and 
 there, in the human heart, with its atmospliere of love, its wealth of 
 passion and feeling, its pure and lofty aspirations, its yearnings after 
 immortality, beneath the sky of a terrestrial Paradise, we can erect a 
 temple to our God, and dedicate it to His holy name. 
 
 As freemasonry was originally operative, but is now speculative in 
 its character, even so, the temple we can build is not a visible one, 
 comi^oscd of wood or stone, but is a spiritual, a speculative one — one 
 composed of beautiful thoughts and acts, and adorned with still more 
 beautiful virtues. A temple whose foundation is laid in Time, and 
 whose superstructure continues in eternity ; its base the purest mo- 
 rality; its elements the happy combination of all the virtues that 
 adorn human nature ; its loftiest pinnacle that unfeigned piety, so 
 beautifully represented in Hiram, the widow's son. 
 
 Speculative as is freemasonry, and we love it for its speculative 
 character, for its speaking emblems, and significant symbols, which 
 open so wide the doors of thought, we yet hope it is not too specula- 
 tive. We fondly trust we have not mistaken the boundless wealth of 
 the human heart, or over estimated its capacity for earth or heaven, 
 for time or for eternity. The whole range of science, literature and 
 art, furnishes us no subject of study more interesting, more varied, 
 or more beautifulthau the heart, and yet, strange as it may ai)pear, 
 there is scarcely a subject we study less, or of which we know so 
 little. We hardly pause to consider the wonderful precision and 
 regularity with which its physical functions are performed, and still, 
 sleeping or w^aking, in youth, manhood and age, it throbs and palpi- 
 tates in cadence with the march of time, and only ceases to beat 
 when the icy hand of death is laid upon it. We fail to comjtr^hend 
 that it has an empire and a ruler of its own, a ruler who often wields 
 the sceptre with despotic sway, and by fostering the good, and curb- 
 ing the evil passions, disciplines his realm into beautiful order, regu- 
 larity and happiness, or who by casting loose the rein, gives unre- 
 strained license to a horde of evil passions, and permits them, like an 
 irruption of Goths and Vandals, to ravage, lay waste and destroy his 
 fair dominions. We fail to realize the power of the passions, whose 
 home is in the heart of man. Unseen, it may be, but still with re- 
 sistless force, they drive us onward through the years of life. The 
 heart, however, has its elysian fields, its sunny places, its shady 
 groves, as well as its rugged rocks and unfathomable recesses. It 
 
8 ADDEEtS. 
 
 has its springs of sweet and bitter water, its fountains of love as well' 
 as hatred, its fragrant flowers and luscious fruits, as well as its deadly 
 upas tree ; its fruitful fields, as well as its arid desert. 
 
 Like an ffiolian harp, it vibrates and responds to every breath of 
 feeling and of ijassion. Subservient to a well regulated mind, its 
 thousand strings are attuned to perfect harmony, and responsive to 
 the power of friendship, love and truth, of sympathy, charity and 
 gratitude, its low, sweet notes are heard, lingering like an angel's 
 whisper on the ear, and anon swelling with delicious cadence into an 
 anthem of praise, vibrating in other hearts, and ascending the elec- 
 tric scale of thought, through the realms of space, to the very throne 
 of Omnipotence. "When, however, unbridled passion rules the hour, 
 and tlie fierce blast of the temijest and the storm is spent upon it, 
 it responds only in discordant notes— fitful notes, in which are min- 
 gled the harsh voices of anger, envy and hatred ; the wail of sorrow, 
 the sharp cry of pain, the howl of agony, and the fcai-ful shrielc of 
 despair. 
 
 As fire and water are useful servants, but wretched masters, even 
 so are the passions to man. They are the motive power tliat propel 
 him onward ; the engine on the railroad of life. Subdued, their 
 capacity for good is preserved, and their power for evil is divested. 
 Thus regulated, we have at our command the power to press onward 
 and upward to high and noble ends, the power to fulfil the destiny 
 for which we were created. 
 
 The human heart may be compared to a rich garden. There we 
 find in abundance the sweetest fruits, most fragrant flowers, and 
 rarest exotics. With care and labor, we can develop its wealth, and 
 beauty and fragrance ; without them, we shall have neither. They 
 may exist, it is true, but their growth will bo checked and stunted, 
 their necessary nourishment be absorbed by noxious weeds, which 
 grow rapidly and luxuriantly in its ricli soil. These require neither 
 care nor attention. They flourish best by neglect ; but as they grow 
 and flourish the sweetness of the fruit and the fragrance of the 
 flower diminish, and finally become extinct. As the permitted 
 growth of such weeds in a garden is injurious, if not fat^il to it, even 
 so is the kindred growth in the heart of man. They transform the 
 purity and sweetness of Eden into the barrennese and desolation of 
 the desert. 
 
 Again, the human heart may be compared to a huge folio, in 
 which Truth writes the story of our lives, and Memory photographs 
 its every event. From the cradle to the grave, not an incident is 
 omitted ; and in its succession of pictures not a shade of false color- 
 ing can be found. As we turn over its pages, we pause, fascinated 
 by the sweet images representing our childhood, and our childhood's 
 home; the loved ones then around us, the dear friends of our youth> 
 
THE SPECULATIVE TEMPLE. 9 
 
 our pleasures and sports, our hopes and fears, our thoughts and 
 feelings, all are there— there, too, is the future of youth, bright with 
 the gilding of hope, and rich with the decorations of fiincy. As we 
 again turn over its pages, how changed the picture! The boy is 
 transformed into the man, with all the man's associations, dutiesand 
 responsibilities. We see him eagerly engaged in the race of life, 
 pursuing his favorite phantom, wealth, pleasure, fame, or whatever 
 it may be. We note, too, that the pictures have lost that dreamy 
 indistinctness characterizing those of childhood, and acquired clear, 
 bold, and decided lines. The color is deeper, and more solid, the 
 general expression more harsh and unattractive. Still further on- 
 ward, are pictures of a still more sombre hue. The bright coloring 
 is almost gone ; the decorations of Aincy, no longer visible ; the faces 
 and forms of youthful friends are few and far between ; the flowers 
 faded ; the leaves sere and yellow. The man, now old, leans heavily 
 upon his staff", and his bent form and silvery locks tell their own 
 story. Many and varied as are the pictures, the subject is still the 
 same, and they form the panorama of human life. Truth has written 
 the narrative impai-tially, and Memory illustrated it well. Chequered 
 are its scenes as the mosaic pavement, and so changed fromfirst to 
 last we scarce can realize the fact that the venerable patriarchs who 
 move so slowly and feebly before us were once young and happy 
 children. 
 
 And yet again, the human heart is like the ocean, deep, boundless 
 and illimitable. Its surface is another 
 
 "Glorious mirror, where tlie Almighty's form 
 Glasses itself in tempests." 
 
 Moved by virtue, by high, pure principle, its waves softly undulate 
 and with a gentle swell ebb and flow upon the beach of time. Be- 
 neath that surftxce are the coral caves, the Peri's home, where the 
 gems of the sea are gathered together, and around them are the 
 hidden reefs and rocks, like walls for their protection. Calm, placid 
 and beautiful, as is the ocean at times, we yet know there is danger 
 beneath its treacherous bosom — that the maelstrom has drawn many 
 an unwary mariner within its vortex, and engulphed him in its un- 
 fathomable abyss — that the whirlwind's wrath, and the tempest's 
 fury have marred its beauty, lashed its waves to madness, atid gath- 
 ered its waters into mighty, seething billows, which rolled on with 
 resistless violence, making many a shipwreck upon its reefs and 
 rocks. ITow sublime the ocean in its placid state ! how terrible in 
 its tempestuous wrath ! 
 
 As is the ocean, so is the human heart. It has its glassy surface, 
 its boundless extent, its hidden treasures, its gentle ebb and flow, 
 and alas! it has its maelstrom, in which thousands of the unwary 
 have been swallowed. Evil passions to it are the whirlwind's power 
 
10 
 
 AUUKESS. 
 
 that lashes its waves to frenzy, and makes shipwreck of temporal and 
 eternal happiness upon its hidden rocks and reefs. 
 
 And still again, the human heart is like a mine of untold wealth. 
 Deep within its recesses are vast beds and quarries of stone, strata 
 upon strat.a, of every texture and quality. Here and the#e, are 
 veins of ghttoring ore, surpassing in value the for famed gold of 
 Ophiror of California. Here, too, may be found priceless gems, more 
 brilliant and beautiful than the diamonds, rubies, emeralds and sap- 
 phires of any regal diadem. These beds of rock and stone are our 
 ashlars in their native quarries ; the ashlars we must bring to light, 
 and make perfect by the tools of the fellow craft, as fitting stones 
 for our speculative temple. Its priceless gems are the Cardinal Vir- 
 tues; bright planets amid a galaxy of glittering stars ; jewels of 
 thought and action, which, if we but polish with the lapidary's care, 
 are more brilliant and more beautiful, more, far more valuable, than 
 the far famed Kohinoor, and all its kindred gems. It is with these 
 we propose to ornament our speculative temple, and adorn and beau- 
 tify it, with all that is costly and rare in the spiritual world. 
 
 The form, size, and character of our speculative temple, each of us 
 must determine for himself. It may be massive and grand as Doric 
 art; beautiful as Corinthian taste, or light, airy and elastic as the 
 spider's web. Each of us is his own architect and builder. Each of 
 us must select his own materials ; fashion them for use, and use 
 them; must place a keystone in the highest arch; a spire on the 
 loftiest pinnacle ; and sooner or later, nmst look fairly and squarely 
 at the sum total of his own labor, and calculate its true value as our 
 speculative temple, erected to God, and dedicated to His holy name. 
 No apprentice's zeal or fellow craft's skill is sufficient here. It re- 
 quires all the master's knowledge and ability. His great trestle 
 board lies open upon our altar, and from its speaking pages ho may 
 gather wisdom from on high, to guide him in his glorious undertak- 
 ing ; STRENGTH commcusurate with his task, to support hini— strength 
 to labor and endure, to persevere unto the end. With these, and 
 the liberal arts and sciences at his command ; with industry, skill, 
 and the experience of cunning workmen, surely his speculative 
 temple will rise in all the splendor of artistic beauty, and be "a 
 thing of joy forever." 
 
 The erection of our speculative temple is a matter of vital impor- 
 tance. However faithfully and zealously we may labor ; however 
 skillful and expert we may be in the use of our tools and imple- 
 ments, we must not forget that it requires the more consummate 
 wisdom, and greater experience of the master builder. It is not the 
 work of an hour, a day, or a year ; it requires time, patience and 
 perseverance, perhajis for years, to build it. The Jewish temple re- 
 quired an army of workmen, who were engaged seven years in its 
 
TUE SPECULATIVE TEMPLE. 11 
 
 erection. Physiologists tell us, our physical temple is periodically 
 reconstructed in the same length of time. With us, the time ne- 
 cessary to form a Jixed and permanent character — the character vq 
 bear through life, among our fellow men— the character we must 
 bear througl^the^countless ages of eternity— that is the time occu- 
 pied in the erection of our speculative temple. Indeed and in truth, 
 human character is our temple. AVe may disguise it as we will ; 
 we may evade a scrutiny of it; but our character as it w, with its 
 faults and blemishes, its weaknesses and infirmities, its vices and its 
 stains, together with its redeeming traits, its better parts, is our spec- 
 ulative temple. Again we repeat, it is for each of us to look well 
 upon it— to weigh it, and realize its just value. 
 
 If the proposition heretofore made be true, that we can erect a 
 temple more spacious and magnificent than that of Solomon ; if itv 
 be further true, that human character is that temple, then it follows 
 necessarily that it should be pure, spotless, and irreproachable; com- 
 bining the innocence of childhood and the wisdom of age; that it 
 should appro.ximate perfection as near as the frailties of human na- 
 ture will allow. We know that perfection on earth has never been 
 attained ; that the wisest as well as the* best of men have erred ; and 
 yet, with an abiding faith in Him in whom we put our trust — before 
 whose altar we bend tlie knee; whose name we never mention, but 
 with that reverential awe due from a creature to his Creator ; and 
 whose aid we implore in all our laudable undertakings, we should 
 make tlie effort to attain it. Our speculative temple should ascend 
 in all the glittering splendor of Friendship, Morality, and Brotherly 
 Love, and shine, not with meteor glare, but bright, steady, planetary 
 light, winning the reverence and love of every beholder by its ele- 
 gance, its purity, and its worth. Like the exemplar temple on 
 Mount Moriah, it should be j^reserved as a hallowed shrine, and 
 guarded with the same vigilant care. It should be our pearl of 
 price, set round with walls and inclosures, even as was the Jewish 
 temple, and the impure, the vicious, the guilty and profane, be ban- 
 ished from even its outer-courts. A faithful sentinel should be 
 placed at every gate, a waftliman on every wall, and the first ap- 
 proach of the cowan and eavesdropper be promptly met and re- 
 sisted. 
 
 AVith tho erection of our temple, but half our duty is performed. 
 It must be dedicated and set apart for its appropriate use. And here 
 how widely we differ in the dedication of our temple. No holy day 
 is set apart ; no gathering of the multitude ; no army assembles with 
 gleaming spears and waving banners; no horsemen and chariots of 
 war ; no beating drums, or pealing of artillery ; no pomp and cere- 
 mony; no sacrifice of oxen and of sheep ; no burnt offering; no 
 meat offering ; no peace offering ; no feasting or revelry solemnizes 
 
12 ADDKESS. 
 
 the occasion; but in silence, it may be in solitude, in deep luiraility, 
 in all our sinfulness and unworthiness, with penitence and prayer, 
 we humbly dedicate our heart, our sijiritual, our speculative temiile, 
 to the Great Jehovah, King of Kings, and Lord of Lords. It thus 
 becomes a consecrated place, requiring only a high priest to minister 
 at its altar, and perform its solemn ceremonies. 
 
 The selection of our high priest is a matter of the gravest impor- 
 tance. "We have no tribe of Levi, from which the choice can be 
 made, but we have a greater than the Levite, in Emmanuel, the 
 Prince of Peace, the great i am, to whom we dedicate our temple ; to 
 whom, and whom alone, in his triune character of Prophet, Priest 
 and King, we bend the knee, and render tlie homage of our heart of 
 hearts. With the Omnipotent for our high priest; with Faith, and 
 Hope, and Charity, together with all the bright virtues that dignify 
 and ennoble human character, as its lesser ministers, we may rest 
 assured, if we are but true to ourselves, the service of our speculative 
 temple will be no less beautiful than pure ; no less pure than holy. 
 
 Our speculative temple erected, and at least nominally dedicated 
 to the living God, it may not be an unprofitable lesson to learn at 
 whose altar we in truth are worshipping. " Know thyself," was the 
 injunction of a heathen philosopher, given as the most difficult duty 
 for man to perform ; and yet, it is no less than this we must do, to 
 realize the just value of our temj^le, and the identitj' of our altar. 
 We have an aid, however, in Truth, who holding her mirror before 
 us, bids us examine for ourselves. She strips ott' the flimsy coverings 
 with which we have deluded ourselves; shows us that our foundation 
 is laid on sand ; indicates the faulty materials; points out its want of 
 symmetry and beauty ; and exposes the almost utter worthlenssness 
 of our speculative temple; then entering the edifice, she remorse- 
 lessly presses home upon us the humiliating fact that we have hushed 
 the still small voice of conscience ; displaced the faithful tiler from 
 our temple door, and tolerated impostors at our altars ; impostors 
 who have assumed the sacerdotal robes and place of our great High 
 Priest, and desecrated our speculative temple, by offering sacrifices 
 to Moloch, Mammon and Baal, or it ilTay be, to Venus or Bacchus. 
 Impostors 
 
 "Who »»ole the livery of the court of Heaven, 
 To serve the Devil in." 
 
 If such should be the resuit of self-investigation; if our Faith be 
 weak and wavering; our Hope faint and feeble ; our Charity palsied; 
 our Brotherly Love cold and formal; if no Relief be extended to 
 the sufioring and distressed ; no word of sympathy poured like balm 
 on wounded hearts ; if Truth be not the principle on which wo act; 
 if Temperance be but a license to commit irregularities and ex- 
 cesses; if Prudence characterize not our lives and actions; if we 
 
THE SPECULATIVE TEMPLE. 13 
 
 have not Fortitude to bear the adversities incident to human life ; if 
 Justice has been tutored to kick the beam in our favor, and never 
 against us, we ma^^ be satisfied the foundation of our speculative 
 tomjjle is not well laid; our corner stone not well formed, true and 
 trusty; that our ashlars were unwisely selected and negligently pre- 
 pared ; our edifice unskillfully erected ; our jewels tarnished and 
 lustreless. Then may we be likened unto the foolish man which 
 built his house upon the sand ; and the rain descended, and the 
 floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house, and it 
 fell ; and great was the fall of it. 
 
 And here, perhaps, it is proper we should advert to an error that 
 prevails in reference to the object and aim of Freemasonry. By many 
 it is considered as synonymous with Christianity, and tlien utterly 
 condemned for failing to come up to that high standard of excel- 
 lence. Christianity, however, is of divine, while Masonry is of hu- 
 man origin. Christianity is a matter pertaining to Eternity as well 
 as Time, while Masonry is a thing of Time only. The moral teach- 
 ings of both are the same. The one as applicable to Time and Eter- 
 nity ; the other as applicable to Time alone. As the hour is merged 
 in the day, and the day in the year, even so is time lost and blended 
 in eternity, although an integral portion of it. Within its appropri- 
 ate sphere. Masonry is an invaluable adjunct to Christianity. The 
 panoply of Christianity is broad enough to cover every mason on 
 earth ; that of Masonry, though a broad one, merely places its vota- 
 ries in that position, where by advancing a few steps, they pass from 
 the Altar to the Cross. The duties of the one end with the grave ; 
 of the other, a preparation here, for the endless cycle beyond it. It 
 was well said " that the best mason makes the best christian, and 
 the best christian makes the best mason." 
 
 Masonry is characterised by its universality, and yet the individu- 
 ality of every mason is still preserved. In the church, the lodge, 
 and other kindred bodies, the individual too often acts as though he 
 had no character ; as though by membership he had surrendered it, 
 and retained only an undivided interest, a portion of its general char- 
 acter. He acts as though it was not incumbent upon him to maintain 
 and preserve the high purity of character of the body to which he 
 he belongs. Every individual has a distinct character of his own, and 
 yet it is an integral part of the universal character. Every mason 
 should assiduously labor to preserve his own individuality ; should 
 give plain, clear and unmistakable marks of his own separate exist- 
 ence ; should make his own 
 
 " Footprints on the Bands of time ;" 
 
 should act as though the universal character was exemplified and 
 illustrated by his own ; should feel as if all the responsibility rested 
 upon himself alone, and thus, and thus only, will its exalted charac- 
 
14 ADDEKSS. 
 
 ter be sustained. It is no excuse for one, that another fails to do his 
 duty. It is no excuse, even though all others fail to do so. Sodom 
 was destroyed because ten righteous men were not found in it. There 
 the individual was merged in the general character— character so 
 stained by iniquity as to excite the wrath of the Almighty in a man- 
 ner so terrible as to be a warning forever. 
 
 No man should ever be allowed to enter our fraternity in search of 
 character; on the contrary, he should bring character to its support. 
 It is not mere familiarity with the minutia} of masonic language and 
 ceremonies that forms masonic character. That is but the drapery 
 with which it is clad ; the casket in which the jewel is set. That 
 character is the habit of life; the same everywhere; at home and 
 abroad ; in the lodge, and in thp v,-orld. It is evidenced by the 
 fountains that gush forth from the heart, pure, sparkling and free; 
 by the fraternal love, that glows like a live coal' upon the altar : by 
 the attentive ear, ever open to the cry of di?»tress; by the fraternal 
 hand extended to succor and to save ; by the instructive tongue that 
 promptly utters words of wisdom, sympathy and caution. The true 
 mason strives to fulfill his duties to his God, his neighbor and him- 
 self, not with, but without ostentation. It is thus our speculative 
 temple should rise, like its beautiful exemplar on Mount Moriah, 
 where 
 
 " No hammers fell, no ponderous axes rung; 
 Like some tall palm, the mystic fabric sprung." 
 
 It is these, and such as these, who bring and give character to a 
 Lodge. It is these, and such as these, who are the perfect ashlars in 
 our temple. It is these, and such as those, who have erected a spec- 
 ulative temple, in all the splendor of spiritual beauty, in their hearts, 
 more spacious and magnificent than that of Solomon, and dedicated 
 it to the living God. A temple that time cannot affect — that barbar- 
 ous force shall never destroy— that shall endure forever. 
 
 High as we have attempted to raise the standard of Freemasonry, 
 we trust it is not too high. We fondly hope there are many who 
 have attained the full stature of Masonic manhood— we trust there 
 are many such within the precincts of tliis Grand Lodge, many, who 
 with a modesty equal to that of the violet, would blush to have their 
 merit known. If my honored and revered friend and brother, the 
 M. W. Grand Master, * he at whose command, long years ago, we first 
 beheld the rays of masonic light, and at whose feet we sat, even as 
 did the student at the feet of Gamaliel, was absent, we might say 
 much of his merit as a neighbor, a friend, a man, and a mason. We- 
 would that we could add, as a christian, but as he is present, it would 
 be indelicate to say anything in his praise, and we have nothing else 
 to say. 
 
 * M. W. Wm. II. NouRis. 
 
THE SPECULATIVE TEMPLE. 15 
 
 Here we might appropriately close, hoping, trusting and believing 
 the foundation of our speculative temple is laid upon the " Eock of 
 Ages" — with its superstructure faultlessly symmetrical, and radiant 
 with beauty — its materials incorruptible, and its ministrations 
 marked by simplicity, fervor, and devotion ; but we cannot resist the 
 temptation to trace the parallel yet a little further. 
 
 Joseplius informs us, the destruction of Jerusalem and its celebra- 
 ted temple was pi-eceded by many events, so remarkable in their 
 character, the narrative seems almost fabulous. He tells us, that at 
 the feast of Pentecost, as the priests were entermg the inner courts 
 of the temple, to perform their usual ceremonies, the earth was felt 
 to quake— a mighty noise was heard, and the voices, as of a multitude, 
 saying Let us depart hence! Let us depart hence! 
 
 He also tells us, Jhat at a time when the city was surrounded by 
 peace and prosperity — when no dark cloud appeared to threaten ap- 
 proaching danger, one Jesus, the son of Ananus, as with a prophetic 
 foreboding, of the awful, impending fate of the holy city, began of 
 a sudden to cry aloud, '' A voice from the east, a voice from the west, 
 a voice from the four winds, a voice against Jerusalem and the holy 
 house, a voice against the bridegrooms and the brides, and a voice 
 against this whole people !" By day and night, at the temple, in 
 the city, through its streets and lanes, and upon its walls, he ever 
 uttered his mournful refrain. When taken before the Roman pro- 
 curator as a disturber of the peace, and scourged until his very bones 
 lay bare, his only answer was, "Woe, vpoe to Jerusalem !" Dismissed 
 as a madman, absorbed in his own gloomy anticipations, and insen- 
 sible alike to the kindness of those who cared for, and the cruelty 
 of those who maltreated him, he continued to wander around, ever 
 chanting his melancholy song. At length, when more than seven 
 years had passed since first his warning voice was raised, when peace 
 had departed, and prosperity given place to the horrors of war — 
 when Roman legions environed the city, and the engines of war 
 hurled missiles of destruction against its ramparts, he still stood 
 upon the wall, and uttered for the last time his melancholy predic- 
 tion, " Woe, woe to the city again, to the people, and to the holy 
 house!" then pausing a moment, he added, as though conscious of 
 his own impending death, "Woe, woe to myself!" Scarcely were 
 the words uttered, when he was killed by a stone from one of the 
 Roman engines. His mission was ended. His allotted task per- 
 formed. Through long years of derision, mockery and abuse, his 
 warning voice was raised like that of the Grecian Cassandra, only to 
 be disregarded. Like the dying swan, his sweetest note was his last, 
 for when uttered, his troubled spii'it was at rest. 
 
16 ADDRESS. 
 
 Let the skeptic sneer, and the scoffer rail— let them deride the 
 idea, if they will, that 
 
 " Coming erents cast their shadows before ;" 
 
 we still prefer to indulge in the pleasing delusion, if indeed it be 
 one, that the voices thus heard by the priests were the voices of the 
 guardian angels of the temple, consulting together ere they plumed 
 themselves for their lofty flight, and abandoned the magnificent 
 temple, so soon to be laid in ashes, and which had been erected in 
 happier days, under brighter auspices, by King Solomon, and dedi- 
 cated to the living God. 
 
 Shall we, my brethren, when our priests retire to the inner courts 
 of our speculative temple, shall we hear the fluttering of angel 
 wings — the murmuring of angel voices, deliberating ere they aban- 
 don it forever? Shall we be insensible to the symbols and em- 
 blems by which we are ever surrounded ? Shall the anointed priest 
 from the altar, and the beloved dead from the grave, utter no note 
 of warning in our ear? Shall we be heedless and indifferent, as 
 were the Jews to the voice of Jesus, the son of Ananus ? Forbid it 1 
 oh, forbid it, Supreme Grand Master! We know but too well, our 
 physical temple, like its i^rototype on Mount Moriah, will soon be 
 laid in dust and ashes ; but still we would not have our guardian 
 angels depart and leave us to our fate. We would have them ever 
 present, infusing spiritual life, and light, and hope within us, that we 
 may be enabled to discard the dim light of reason, or religion of 
 nature, which teaches us that man dies as the beast, and at his 
 death there is no more of him — as well as that other creed, which 
 inculcates the idea of the resurrection of the soul, but not of the 
 body ; and firmly relying on the merits of the Lion of the tribe 
 of Judah, espouse that beautiful faith which teaches the immor- 
 tality of the body as well as the soul. With such hopes as these, 
 such faith as this, surely our speculative temple, like Elijah of old, 
 may be transplanted from this vale of tears, to the New Jerusalem, 
 that beautiful City of God, not made with hands, eternal in the 
 heavens.