BROTHER
OR NO BROTHER; OR, WHICH WAS THE WISER?
Freemasons'
Magazine - 1852
I.
"Your own feelings must dictate
your decision: I can express no wish: make no suggestion - but
you have known my life- long devotion to Masonry, and the
importance I have attached to its precepts. This is no hour for
trifling," - a spasm of acute pain contracted the features of the
speaker, and enforced an involuntary pause; "But specially an
hour for truth. I have never unduly exaggerated the force of
Masonic principles; never regarded them as superseding the
highest and holiest of all teaching; but as suggestive of it
and subsidiary to it. Whether, however, the connection
of Masonry with my family terminates in my own person,
- whether you eventually belong to the Craft, or
continue strangers to it - remember that he is deeply criminal
who lives for himself alone." But who was the speaker -
who were the listeners - and what were the accessories of the
scene? II.
Mr. Morshead, formerly a surgeon in India,
who, by steady perseverance, force of character, and stern
avoidance of all that bore even the semblance of what was base
and unworthy, had risen from obscurity and indigence to
station and opulence, was supposed to be in dying
circumstances. The parties whom he was addressing were his two
sons, Philip and Rupert, youths very different in temperament
and character, but both inexpressibly dear to their
generous father. These, during his last interview on earth, he
was most anxious to impress. He knew that his decease would
render them both wealthy. Talent was theirs by inheritance; and
the added polish of education had not been wanting. The
dying man was anxious that they should not abuse the first, or
omit to follow up and improve the second. He coveted for
them usefulness, and he dreaded for them sloth. His will was
by his side; he pointed to it and spoke to them calmly of
the advantages and responsibility which his death would open
to them. He then signed to them a silent adieu, and
betook himself in solitude to his religions duties. But
not then did the angel of death claim him. He waved his wings
over the sufferer, but forborne to strike. Mr. Morshead rallied.
"His composure, submission, patience, - they, humanly speaking,
have saved him," exclaimed his professional attendants. "A mind
so admirably poised as his, - so thoroughly acquiescent in the
arrangements of Providence, arms medical remedies with tenfold
power. His trusting confiding spirit, is his real doctor."
Patience! thou rare and homely quality, what enduring medicament
is thine! III.
If the young men had cherished any
expectation that their father, during his short interval of
convalescence, would once more recur to Masonry, and avow his
deep conviction of its value, they were doomed to disappointment.
Mr. Morshead never approached the subject again. "The
respite so mercifully granted" - his own words are used -
was "devoted to meditation on the mighty future and
to preparation for its dread awards!" and, if
composure, submission, faith, and hope, fitly characterize such
an hour, the veteran Mason passed from earth not ill-prepared for
his dreamless rest. The sons, the event affected
variously. Philip, the younger man, shrunk from society, and
indulged in many and earnest musings over the poet. Rupert,
the elder, courted society; talked of "the absurdity of grief,"
and was all impatience for "the distribution of the properly,"
and for means of prosecuting a scheme of foreign travel. The
first seemed to cherish whatever could recall the memory of
his father; the other bent on forgetting him with all
convenient speed. They were together one morning, when searching
in Mr. Morshead's secretaire for some paper that was
needed, they lighted unexpectedly on a packet carefully
and elaborately sealed, and in a feeble and trembling hand,
thus inscribed:- "For him, allied to me by blood, who
values my memory, recollects my conversation, and heeds my
opinions, however lightly and casually expressed?' "What
may this disclose?" exclaimed Rupert. "Marvellous pains seem to
have been taken to secure the contents from injury! What may be
within? Eh, Pltil! Valuables? "Yes! in one sense, as having
been worn by HIM," was the reply slowly given, and not without
emotion; "I imagine the packet to contain his Masonic
insignia." "Oh! Ah! That was one of the governor's
infatuations - one of his infatuations to the very last. Masonic,
Eh? So! I imagined that, sooner or later, we should stumble upon
something of this kind. What is to be done with it
?" Phillip pointed in silence to the inscription. "All
stuff and nonsense," remarked the elder brother, angrily; "I ask
again, how shall we dispose of it?" The younger man read
deliberately the address; but trusted himself with no
comment. "Pooh! Rank absurdity!" cried the elder son. "We're
not going to keep it! That, like other matters must be disposed
of.'' "Disposed of!" exclaimed Phillip, "with that
memorandum endorsed on it, and written by himself the very day
before he died!" "No heroics, Phil - no heroics! This is a
money-getting age, which has scant sympathy with them. I ask once
more, who will be the buyer ?" "I."' cried the younger,
indignantly; I, at any estimate that may be formed." "Ah!
well! that's business-like, and I understand you." "Would
that I could return the compliment," rejoined Phillip, sadly. "My
dear brother, are the dead at once to be forgotten, and their
wishes-" "Oh! if you are about to moralize, I bid you good
morning. I don't affect homilies at any time; but least of all
when delivered by a layman! Adieu!" And, whistling his dog
to his side, Rupert quitted
the apartment. IV.
Phillip mused on in silence.
Memory recalled to him many a touching trait of the departed. He
thought of his father's unvarying affection and consideration for
both his children, - of the costly education he had bestowed on
Rupert, - of the extent to which his predilections had been
gratified, and his expensive habits borne with, - of the
invariable gentleness with which the deceased rebuked, and the
eagerness with which he praised;- and with these he contrasted
Rupert's levity, heartlessness, ingratitude, and
avarice. It was a melancholy hour; and more than once
the exclamation rose to his lip, "If so selfish in youth, what
will he be in age?" But that secretaire, crowded with
papers must be examined; and those huge packets of letters must
be sorted, classed, and perhaps, to a great extent, destroyed:
and with a sigh Phillip seized the lightest and thinnest bundle,
and addressed himself weariedly to his task. That fee ling
speedily gave place to eagerness end admiration. The packet was
made up exclusively of letters from various individuals at
different periods of Mr. Morshead's career, thanking him for
patronage, pecuniary help, successful intervention, and availing
influence, exerted in their behalf during the hour of need. It
was a marvellous testimony to the unwearied and life-long
benevolence of a most open-hearted man. The blessings of
the widow were there, and the manly acknowledgments of the
orphan, and the prayers of the aged, and the buoyant and sanguine
thanks of the young. Few seemed to have applied to him in
vain. Around the packet was a broad label, with these words
in pencil:- "The preservation of these letters seem to
savor strongly of vanity; but I leave them, that my children may
see that self was not, uppermost in my thoughts. I assume
no credit, covet no posthumous praises: Masonry taught
me never to witness sorrow without endeavoring to relieve
it. That I have been able occasionally to do so, all praise be
to the Most High!" This comment opened up a long train of
thought in the mind of the excited reader; and at last issued in
this conclusion:- "That can be no unholy bond which prompts
and ripens such noble fruits. If life be spared me, I will join
the Fraternity!" V.
It was with a feeling of
indefinable uneasiness, that Phillip on the following morning,
looked forward to an exchange of greetings with Rupert. at the
breakfast-table. That gentleman rose late, and in no very equable
frame of mind The amusement of the previous evening bore but
badly the test of reflection He was aspiring to the position of a
"fast man," and had paid for his "footing" by the loss of a heavy
sum at hazard. This result galled him; his night's rest was
broken; and he had risen with curses on his lips at his folly, -
ill at ease, feverish, and irritable. Nor was his ruffled
spirit soothed by observing Phillips self-possessed and happy air
- his cordial and ready smile. "Oh! by the way," exclaimed
the elder, after a volley of growls at everything on the table,
"how about those Masonic insignia we discussed at ouch length
yesterday? What do you intend to do with them?" "Wear
them," was the reply. "I asked you," said Rupert angrily,
"how you intended to deal with them?" "And I," returned
Phillip, with pleasant and smiling mien, "as frankly avowed my
intention to wear them." Rupert was silent for some moments;
first from astonishment, then with rage- "So, then,"
rejoined he, at length, with a sneer, "lunacy seems hereditary in
our family?" The younger son pointed to a portrait which
fronted them, and asked," Did he ever show any symptoms of
unsettled or ill-regulated intellect?" "Yes; in his absurd
consideration for the wants of others. But he's gone; and what he
did door did not do is beside the question. Your intention, then,
is to become a Mason?" "If the Fraternity will accept
me." "You'll repent it. Fraternity! There's no fraternity;
the whole affair is based on vanity; there's nothing real and
abiding in it." "Some of the best and ablest men in the
country have maintained the contrary," was Phillips firm
rejoinder; "for my own part, I wish to be one of the
Brotherhood." "And I wish to stand alone. A young fellow with
means at command can dispense with a Brotherhood. He can
help himself, and laugh at the idea of a Fraternity, as I
do." Did the hour ever come when Rupert remembered
this expression, and - bewailed it
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