AN ADDRESS, AT THE INTERMENT (WITH MASONIC HONOURS) OF BROTHER SAMUEL PIERCE, JUN. OF DORCHESTER; Who was unfortunately drowned near Long-Island, DEAR is estimated the name of friend. Lovely is the relation which cements congenial souls. But dearer still the amity, more intimate the connection, my brethren, which unites our hands and hearts. How painful then the catastrophe in which is dissolved an alliance so close and so affectionate! Alas! how forcibly do we feel this now! Death, regardless of those sweet engagements, those pleasing intercourses, and those improving joys, which Masons know, has suddenly summoned away, in the midst of his days and usefulness the valued brother whose remains we have just lodged in the silent tomb. We beheld his sun in its meridian, and rejoiced in its brightness. It is now set; and the evening shades of existence have closed around. Blessed be his rest, and soft and safe to him the mortal bed! Sweet be the opening flowers we plant around: fragrant the cassia sprig that here shall flourish !* while we his memory cherish, his virtues imitate, his death improve! WITH bleeding hearts we sympathize with the disconsolate widow, the bereaved parents, the afflicted friends. Their griefs are our's, for our's the loss they feel. But let us look forward, enlightened by religion, to the brighter scene, when our brother, who is now levelled by the stroke of death, shall be raised from his prostrate state, at the SuPREME GRAND MASTER's word, and be admitted to the privileges of the Lodge Celestial. Let us comfort one another, with these words. With these prospects let us console the widow and the mourners. And permit me, brethren, in their behalf to tender you a tribute of lively acknowledgment for the respect you shew the deceased. Your kindness, attention, and sympathy are peculiarly * Allading to the flowers and twigs the brethren had strewed around the entrance to the tomb. grateful and soothing to their agonized hearts. Their tears, their looks thank you, though sorrow denies their lips an utterance. "THESE last offices we pay the dead ought to be improved as useful instructions to the living." Let us all remember that, "the generations of men are like the waves of the sea." In quick succession they follow each other to the coasts of death. Another and another still succeeds, and presses on the shore; then ebbs and dies to give place to the following wave. Thus are we wafted forward. Now buoyed, perhaps by hope; now sinking in despair: rising on the tide of prosperity; or overwhelmed with the billows of misfortune. Sometimes, when least expected, the storms gather, the winds arise, "and life's frail bubble bursts." Be cautioned then, nor trust to cloudless skies, to placid seas, or sleeping winds. Forget not there are hidden rocks. Guard, too, against the sudden blast. Be FAITH your pilot; you will then be safely guided to the haven of eternal bliss. "There may you bathe your weary soul In seas of heavenly rest ; And not a wave of trouble roll Acrost your peaceful breast!" AN ADDRESS. Delivered at the request of the Officers and Members of Columbian Lodge, on the Dedication of their New Hall, June 24, 1800. BRETHREN, THE ceremonies we are about to perform are not unmeaning rites, nor the amusing pageants of an idle hour; but have a solemn and instructive import. Suffer me to point it out to you, and to prepare your minds for those important sentiments they are so well adapted to convey. THIS Hall, designed and built by wisdom, supported by strength, and adorned in beauty, we are first to consecrate IN THE NAME OF THE GREAT JEHOVAH.* Which teaches us * See the ceremony of dedication, in the Book of Constitutions. |