CHAPTER LXXXI.

MASONIC SYMBOLS.-THE FUNERAL PROCESSION.

EVEN he who rejoices in hope of glory, who has the most perfect confidence that to him "to die is gain," and that when absent from the body he shall be present with the Lord, who can truly say like the Apostle, "I have a desire to depart and to be with Christ, which is far better," must yet have solemn and awful thoughts of death. However joyfully we may contemplate the prospect of our entrance into the heavenly temple, and of a joyful resurrection when death shall be swallowed up in victory, and this corruptible shall put on incorruption, and this mortal shall put on immortality, it is impossible for us to divest ourselves and it would not be desirable for us to do so if we could of the feelings which naturally spring up in the human heart at the thought of death. The Creator seems to have implanted in every living creature an ineradicable dread of death. The lower animals evidently shrink from it; when danger threatens them they seek to save themselves by flight, concealment, resistance, and some of them by curious artifices to which they are led by wonderful instincts, particularly that of feigning death and lying with all their members rigid and motionless. In this we see a proof of the wisdom and goodness of the Creator, a provision made for the preservation of the lives of His creatures, and that the balance of nature may be maintained, and the weaker kinds of animals not extirpated by too readily falling a prey to the more powerful. Man partakes with the inferior creatures in this natural dread of death.

His conduct, indeed, is not directed so much as theirs by mere instinct, but in a far higher degree by reason, and that of the good man by religion. But the natural feeling and the instinct of self-preservation abide in him also. It is not merely because he knows it to be his duty, and feels himself bound to use all lawful means for the preservation of his life, that the most pious man seeks to escape from danger and to avoid death. He does it in accordance with a law of nature as fixed and unchangeable as that of death itself. Religion elevates our hopes to heaven, and enables us to rejoice in the prospect of that future which is beyond death; it makes us triumphantly exclaim, "O Death, where is thy sting? O Grave, where is thy victory?” (1 Cor. xv. 35); but it does not cast out the natural feeling of the human heart; it only brings it into connection with new feelings and subordinates it to them. Nay, religion adds in many respects, and adds very much, to the solemnity and awfulness of the thought of death. It tells us that death entered into the world by sin, and that the wages of sin is death, so that the thought of death becomes associated, and must ever be associated, with the most humbling and awful thoughts, the thoughts that we are sinners, and that because of sin we are exposed to the wrath and curse of God. It tells us, indeed, of deliverance from that wrath and curse, and that whilst the wages of sin is death, the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord. It pours light into the valley of the shadow of death, but it shows us in the first place the awful darkness of that valley. It enables us to walk through it and yet fear no evil, but in the first place it shows us how Death is naturally and essentially the King of Terrors. The doctrine of a judgment to come is one of natural as well as of revealed religion; conscience bears witness of danger in offending God; but revelation exhibits this doctrine fully and plainly; then, however, going on to cheer us with the assurance of acquittal in the day of judgment, if we seek God in the way of His appointment, in the exercise of that true faith from which hope arises, and which worketh by love, and is manifested

by works, even by a patient continuance in well-doing. For "as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment; so Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many and unto them that look for Him shall He appear the second time, without sin, unto salvation" (Heb ix. 27, 28).

These remarks express some of the thoughts and describe some of the feelings with which we ought to contemplate that important masonic symbol, the Funeral Procession. In this symbol, the procession is represented as proceeding from a hill to a temple, the coffin which contains the body of the deceased being borne on the shoulders of men, who have now approached very near to the entrance of the temple within which the sepulture is to take place. Passing over for the present, many details of the symbol, which, however, must ere long engage our attention, let us devote our thoughts to what has been already mentioned, taking this into account that the funeral is to be regarded as a masonic funeral, and the deceased as an honoured brother. We are called to remember the virtue of his life, and the service which he rendered to the Order during all the days of it. His conduct appears as an example to us which it is our duty to follow. We mourn his loss; even whilst rejoicing in confidence that he has entered into a better world, we cannot but think of the services which he has performed, and of the pleasant hours which we have spent in his company. But it is all over. His work is done. We shall never again hear his voice, nor be gladdened by his cheerful and pleasant words. The end of his earthly life has come, and this would be sad, indeed, if it were not for the thought of a blessed resurrection. That thought, however, reassures us; and we proceed to lay him in the grave with good hope, that in the end all shall be wellthat we shall meet him again and rejoice with him for His example is left to us, and as we follow him to the grave, we cannot but meditate upon it, longing to resemble him in his piety, his virtue, and his active usefulness. The funeral of a departed brother has for

ever.

every Freemason a solemn lesson, which it is very profitable to learn well. A representation of a funeral procession fitly occupies a place among the symbols of Freemasonry, to remind us even in hours of health and happiness, of active employment, and sweet social intercourse, and innocent mirth, that all earthly things are mutable and transitory, and that ere long the place which now knows us shall know us no more, that so we may be stirred up to earnestness in all the work that is assigned us, and led to apply our hearts unto wisdom, laying up in store for ourselves.

As depicted in this symbol, the funeral procession is seen advancing towards the gate of a magnificent temple; and of this the symbolic meaning is of the very highest importance. Burial in a temple or other place of worship, or within the enclosure which surrounds it, has been common in almost all parts of the world, and from very early times. It is especially the practice of Christian countries, and almost every parish church has its churchyard for the interment of the dead. The worshippers thus assemble, Sabbath after Sabbath, among the graves of those whom they have loved and lost, and behold the memorials of former generations. The thoughts naturally suggested by such a scene, are eminently suitable to prepare them for engaging in the sacred services to which they are called, and for listening to the words of eternal life. The temple in the symbol now before us suggests to the mind all the hopes which are founded on the divine promises and all the doctrines of divine grace; it reminds us of these doctrines and promises themselves, and calls us to meditate upon them. Thus it connects the hope of immortality and of a blessed resurrection with the thought of death, and of the corruption which the body must undergo in the grave. leads our minds on from the sad scene presented to our view, to the mansions of bliss where the spirits of the just rejoice in the presence and fellowship of God, awaiting the time when salvation shall be perfected, the body being raised up in glory, and reunited with the already glorified

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soul. It tells us not to sorrow "concerning them which are asleep," "even as others which have no hope" (1 Thess. iv. 13), but to rejoice in the assurance that "the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God, and the dead in Christ shall rise" (1 Thess. iv. 16); when He "shall change our vile body, that it may be fashioned like unto His glorious body, according to the working whereby He is able even to subdue all things unto Himself" (Phil. iii. 21).

Viewed as a whole, this symbol further reminds us that even the greatest of the earth are subject to the common law of death. The king is called away from his palace and his throne, even as the humble labourer from his cottage. The funeral procession represented is that of one who in his life was of high estate. The reflections suggested by this, are fitted to be beneficial to all. The rich are taught not to be high-minded, nor to trust in uncertain riches, but in the living God, who giveth us richly all things to enjoy (1 Tim. vi. 17). To the poor a strong reason is shown for contentment with their lot. How can we set our hearts upon worldly things from which we must soon pass away? Why should we repine even if our life be full of hardships and trials, when we know that it and they shall ere long be at an end, and when we have before us the glorious prospect of eternal happiness?

We lay our brother's body in the grave, and turn away from it sad of heart, notwithstanding all the consolation that we find in the promises of God, and in the prospects of the future founded upon them. We think of the grievous blank created by his death; we think sympathisingly of his family, and of the blank in the domestic circle, the vacant chair which no one can think of occupying, the weeping widow, the fatherless children. We think of the loss sustained by our Brotherhood, of the loss sustained by the world, and we ask ourselves the question, who is to fill the place of him that is gone? It seems as if his place could never be filled; we know of no one ready to enter

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