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6°- INTIMATE SECRETARY
Morals and Dogma
Albert Pike
You are especially taught in this Degree to be zealous and faithful; to be
disinterested and benevolent; and to act the peacemaker, in case of dissensions,
disputes, and quarrels among the brethren.
Duty is the moral magnetism which controls and guides the true Mason's course
over the tumultuous seas of life. Whether the stars of honour, reputation, and
reward do or do not shine, in the light of day or in the darkness of the night
of trouble and adversity, in calm or storm, that unerring magnet still shows him
the true course to steer, and indicates with certainty where-away lies the port
which not to reach involves shipwreck and dishonour. He follows its silent
bidding, as the mariner, when land is for many days not in sight, and the ocean
without path or landmark spreads out all around him, follows the bidding of the
needle, never doubting that it points truly to the north. To perform that duty,
whether the performance be rewarded or unrewarded, is his sole care. And it doth
not matter, though of this performance there may be no witnesses, and though
what he does will be forever unknown to all mankind.
A little consideration will teach us that Fame has other limits than mountains
and oceans; and that he who places happiness in the frequent repetition of his
name, may spend his life in propagating it, without any danger of weeping for
new worlds, or necessity of passing the Atlantic sea.
If, therefore, he who imagines the world to be filled with his actions and
praises, shall subduct from the number of his encomiasts all those who are
placed below the flight of fame, and who hear in the valley of life no voice but
that of necessity; all those who imagine themselves too important to regard him,
and consider the mention of his name as a usurpation of their time; all who are
too much or too little pleased with themselves to attend to anything external;
all who are attracted by pleasure, or chained down by pain to unvaried ideas;
all who are withheld from attending his triumph by different pursuits; and all
who slumber in universal negligence; he will find his renown straitened by
nearer bounds than the rocks of Caucasus; and perceive that no man can be
venerable or formidable, but to a small part of his fellow-creatures. And
therefore, that we may not languish in our endeavors after excellence, it is
necessary that, as Africanus counsels his descendants, we raise our eyes to
higher prospects, and contemplate our future and eternal state, without giving
up our hearts to the praise of crowds, or fixing our hopes on such rewards as
human power can bestow.
We are not born for ourselves alone; and our country claims her share, and our
friends their share of us. As all that the earth produces is created for the use
of man, so men are created for the sake of men, that they may mutually do good
to one another. In this we ought to take nature for our guide, and throw into
the public stock the ounces of general utility, by a reciprocation of duties;
sometimes by receiving, sometimes by giving, and sometimes to cement human
society by arts, by industry, and by our resources.
Suffer others to be praised in thy presence, and entertain their good and glory
with delight; but at no hand disparage them, or lessen the report, or make an
objection; and think not the advancement of thy brother is a lessening of thy
worth. Upbraid no man's weakness to him to discomfit him, neither report it to
disparage him, neither delight to remember it to lessen him, or to set thyself
above him; nor ever praise thyself or dispraise any man else, unless some
sufficient worthy end do hallow it.
Remember that we usually disparage others upon slight grounds and little
instances; and if a man be highly recommended, we think him sufficiently
lessened, if we can but charge one sin of folly or inferiority in his account.
We should either be more severe to ourselves, or less so to others, and consider
that whatsoever good any one can think or say of us, we can tell him of many
unworthy and foolish and perhaps worse actions of ours, any one of which, done
by another, would be enough, with us, to destroy his reputation.
If we think the people wise and sagacious, and just and appreciative, when they
praise and make idols of us, let us not call them unlearned and ignorant, and
ill and stupid judges, when our neighbour is cried up by public fame and popular
noises.
Every man hath in his own life sins enough, in his own mind trouble enough, in
his own fortunes evil enough, and in performance of his offices failings more
than enough, to entertain his own inquiry; so that curiosity after the affairs
of others can not be without envy and an ill mind. The generous man will be
solicitous and inquisitive into the beauty and order of a well-governed family,
and after the virtues of an excellent person; but anything for which men keep
locks and bars, or that blushes to see the light, or that is either shameful in
manner or private in nature, this thing will not be his care and business.
It should be objection sufficient to exclude any man from the society of Masons,
that he is not disinterested and generous, both in his acts, and in his opinions
of men, and his constructions of their conduct. He who is selfish and grasping,
or censorious and ungenerous, will not long remain within the strict limits of
honesty and truth, but will shortly commit injustice. He who loves himself too
much must needs love others too little; and he who habitually gives harsh
judgment will not long delay to give unjust judgment.
The generous man is not careful to return no more than he receives; but prefers
that the balances upon the ledgers of benefits shall be in his favour. He who
hath received pay in full for all the benefits and favours that he has
conferred, is like a spendthrift who has consumed his whole estate, and laments
over an empty exchequer. He who requites my favours with ingratitude adds to,
instead of diminishing, my wealth; and he who cannot return a favour is equally
poor, whether his inability arises from poverty of spirit, sordidness of soul,
or pecuniary indigence.
If he is wealthy who hath large sums invested, and the mass of whose fortune
consists in obligations that bind other men to pay him money, he is still more
so to whom many owe large returns of kindnesses and favours. Beyond a moderate
sum each year, the wealthy man merely invests his means: and that which he never
uses is still like favours unreturned and kindnesses unreciprocated, an actual
and real portion of his fortune.
Generosity and a liberal spirit make men to be humane and genial, open-hearted,
frank, and sincere, earnest to do good, easy and contented, and well-wishers of
mankind. They protect the feeble against the strong, and the defenceless against
rapacity and craft. They succour and comfort the poor, and are the guardians,
under God, of his innocent and helpless wards. They value friends more than
riches or fame, and gratitude more than money or power. They are noble by God's
patent, and their escutcheons and quarterings are to be found in heaven's great
book of heraldry. Nor can any man any more be a Mason than he can be a
gentleman, unless he is generous, liberal, and disinterested. To be liberal, but
only of that which is our own; to be generous, but only when we have first been
just; to give, when to give deprives us of a luxury or a comfort, this is
Masonry indeed.
He who is worldly, covetous, or sensual must change before he can be a good
Mason. If we are governed by inclination and not by duty; if we are unkind,
severe, censorious, or injurious, in the relations or intercourse of life; if we
are unfaithful parents or undutiful children; if we are harsh masters or
faithless servants; if we are treacherous friends or bad neighbours or bitter
competitors or corrupt unprincipled politicians or overreaching dealers in
business, we are wandering at a great distance from the true Masonic light.
Masons must be kind and affectionate one to another. Frequenting the same
temples, kneeling at the same altars, they should feel that respect and that
kindness for each other, which their common relation and common approach to one
God should inspire. There needs to be much more of the spirit of the ancient
fellowship among us; more tenderness for each other's faults, more forgiveness,
more solicitude for each other's improvement and good fortune; somewhat of
brotherly feeling, that it be not shame to use the word "brother."
Nothing should be allowed to interfere with that kindness and affection: neither
the spirit of business, absorbing, eager, and overreaching, ungenerous and hard
in its dealings, keen and bitter in its competitions, low and sordid in its
purposes; nor that of ambition, selfish, mercenary, restless, circumventing,
living only in the opinion of others, envious of the good fortune of others,
miserably vain of its own success, unjust, unscrupulous, and slanderous.
He that does me a favour, hath bound me to make him a return of thankfulness.
The obligation comes not by covenant, nor by his own express intention; but by
the nature of the thing; and is a duty springing up within the spirit of the
obliged person, to whom it is more natural to love his friend, and to do good
for good, than to return evil for evil; because a man may forgive an injury, but
he must never forget a good turn. He that refuses to do good to them whom he is
bound to love, or to love that which did him good, is unnatural and monstrous in
his affections, and thinks all the world born to minister to him; with a
greediness worse than that of the sea, which, although it receives all rivers
into itself, yet it furnishes the clouds and springs with a return of all they
need. Our duty to those who are our benefactors is, to esteem and love their
persons, to make them proportionable returns of service, or duty, or profit,
according as we can, or as they need, or as opportunity presents itself; and
according to the greatness of their kindnesses.
The generous man cannot but regret to see dissensions and disputes among his
brethren. Only the base and ungenerous delight in discord. It is the poorest
occupation of humanity to labour to make men think worse of each other, as the
press, and too commonly the pulpit, changing places with the hustings and the
tribune, do. The duty of the Mason is to endeavour to make man think better of
his neighbour; to quiet, instead of aggravating difficulties; to bring together
those who are severed or estranged; to keep friends from becoming foes, and to
persuade foes to become friends. To do this, he must needs control his own
passions, and be not rash and hasty, nor swift to take offence, nor easy to be
angered.
For anger is a professed enemy to counsel. It is a direct storm, in which no man
can be heard to speak or call from without; for if you counsel gently, you are
disregarded; if you urge it and be vehement, you provoke it more. It is neither
manly nor ingenuous. It makes marriage to be a necessary and unavoidable
trouble; friendships and societies and familiarities, to be intolerable. It
multiplies the evils of drunkenness, and makes the levities of wine to run into
madness. It makes innocent jesting to be the beginning of tragedies. It turns
friendship into hatred; it makes a man lose himself, and his reason and his
argument, in disputation. It turns the desires of knowledge into an itch of
wrangling. It adds insolency to power. It turns justice into cruelty, and
judgment into oppression. It changes discipline into tediousness and hatred of
liberal institution. It makes a prosperous man to be envied, and the unfortunate
to be unpitied.
See, therefore, that first controlling your own temper, and governing your own
passions, you fit yourself to keep peace and harmony among other men, and
especially the brethren. Above all remember that Masonry is the realm of peace,
and that "among Masons there must be no dissension, but only that noble
emulation., which can best work and best agree." Wherever there is strife and
hatred among the brethren, there is no Masonry; for Masonry is Peace, and
Brotherly Love, and Concord.
Masonry is the great Peace Society of the world. Wherever it exists, it
struggles to prevent international difficulties and disputes; and to bind
Republics, Kingdoms, and Empires together in one great band of peace and amity.
It would not so often struggle in vain, if Masons knew their power and valued
their oaths.
Who can sum up the horrors and woes accumulated in a single war? Masonry is not
dazzled with all its pomp and circumstance, all its glitter and glory. War comes
with its bloody hand into our very dwellings. It takes from ten thousand homes
those who lived there in peace and comfort, held by the tender ties of family
and kindred. It drags them away, to die untended, of fever or exposure, in
infectious climes; or to be hacked, torn, and mangled in the fierce fight; to
fall on the gory field, to rise no more, or to be borne away, in awful agony, to
noisome and horrid hospitals. The groans of the battle-field are echoed in sighs
of bereavement from thousands of desolated hearths. There is a skeleton in every
house, a vacant chair at every table. Returning, the soldier brings worse sorrow
to his home, by the infection which he has caught, of camp-vices. The country is
demoralized. The national mind is brought down, from the noble interchange of
kind offices with another people, to wrath and revenge, and base pride, and the
habit of measuring brute strength against brute strength, in battle. Treasures
are expended, that would suffice to build ten thousand churches, hospitals, and
universities, or rib and tie together a continent with rails of iron. If that
treasure were sunk in the sea, it would be calamity enough; but it is put to
worse use; for it is expended in cutting into the veins and arteries of human
life, until the earth is deluged with a sea of blood.
Such are the lessons of this Degree. You have vowed to make them the rule, the
law, and the guide of your life and conduct. If you do so, you will be entitled,
because fitted, to advance in Masonry. If you do not, you have already gone too
far.
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