that body at once rescinded all the former proceedings, reinstated the Lodge of Antiquity in all its Masonic privileges, and restored Bro. Preston to his dignities and honours. And, to the unfeigned joy of all the fraternity, this eminent Brother, like the sun bursting through a bank of clouds, once more resumed his usual activity in the sacred cause of Masonry. He revived the Order of Harodim, and instituted a Grand Chapter, where the Lectures of Masonry were periodically illustrated by the Companions. Over this Chapter the Right Hon. Lord Macdonald presided as Grand Patron; and James Hesletine, William Birch, John Spottiswoode, and William Meyrick, Esquires, as Vice-Patrons.

Through the medium of this institution, Bro. Preston's system of lecturing became prevalent in all the Lodges both in town and country; and," the Square added, "I considered it to be a great blow and discouragement to Masonry, when the Order of Harodim was suffered to fall into desuetude, inasmuch as, while it preserved the ancient purity of the science, it refined the vehicle by which it is conveyed to the ear; as a diamond is enhanced in value by being polished."

THE ACCOMPLISHED MASTER.

We know him by his apron white,

An Architect to be;

We know him by his trowel bright,
Well skill'd in Masonry;

We know him by his jewel's blaze,
His thought, his word, his care;
We know him, as the Lodge we raise,
And all for work prepare.*

* Boston (U. S.) F. M. Monthly Magazine for August, No. 318.

434

LONDON PLATITUDES.

BY HARGRAVE JENNINGS.

PLATITUDE THE FIRST.

WHEN new opinions are of so flimsy a texture that they are scarcely worth the wearing, we do right in falling back upon the old, and in sporting those ancient garments which, at all events, have the gloss of antiquity. We forget which reverend philosopher it was of the older day, who propounded that quiet and comfortable axiom, that to be asleep was better than to lie down, to lie down was better than to stand upright, that to stand upright was preferable to walking, that walking was to be chosen before running, and that as to no exertion at all, why that that was the best of all!

Agreeably to this amiable and do-nothing way of settling things, we ought strictly to refrain, and no more to profane an unoffending goose-quill than we would pluck wisdom from the bird of knowledge itself. We have all our lives had a high idea of idleness. There is a dignity about it which we in vain look for amidst the busy and restless. Kings are idle; the earth takes his time about his journey round the sun, and he is no more to be hurried out of his pace than Saturn is in the twisting off his belts.

All honour to Idleness! Well, indeed, might Thomson bestow a Castle upon his Indolence. The keys sleep in drowsy locks; they turn, but only turn on the other side. Wreaths of poppy to thy brows, thou Mighty Mother, nursing so many craving younglings, famished for sleep, in thy soporific lap! Blessed peace surround thee; dozy clouds sleep out their light around thy resting form! Pillows of cloud roll beneath thy head, and be all the points of the lightning drawn out of those clouds which thou selectest for the supports to thy sinking shoulders! Amaranth, mandragora, and nepenthe, all the double-distilled blooms winking into subsidence on "Lethe's Wharf;" all the night-flowers that do hang their heads," thyrsusses dropping with laudanum, not dew, cluster to grace thy decadence, thou Sister of

Quiet, wonderful in hard-breathings! We marvel at the taste of the ancients, who raised temples to Mars, Bellona, and to various other violent divinities, to stormy Neptune and his noisy Triton, perpetually blowing needless blasts through that altogether extravagantly curved conch-shell. All of clatter and clap-trap seemed to find favour in the eyes of these ancients, whilst that innocent goddess (we forget her name) who presided over "nods," if not over "becks and wreathed smiles," was, as it would seem, purposely overlooked. Well, indeed, might she be overlooked, for she wanted the spirit to assert her prerogative; she was never awake to her own weight in the scale of things. That idleness divides the one half of the world is evident, else why do people go to sleep?

In pulling weights upon our head, we forget for what sin we have to answer. I as little know the evils I now provoke in seizing, with rash hand, that dangerous implement the quill, as Jupiter did, what might come of it, when he began to thunder. Better sleep for a week, and overturn your inkstand and permit the sable flood itself to inundate those sinless sheets of paper, lamb-like in their whiteness, than perhaps blacken them in two senses. Snores are sacred, but your rash thoughts, too hastily committed to life, you may find to quicken into snakes.

We imagine that we afford a proof of our heroism in thus breaking through with these cobwebs of the mind. Sleepers have spoken, and we, as waking men, shall perhaps sleep good dreams. If we wait too long that a sensible man should speak to our profit, we may not do amiss in applying to a fool that he may, at all events, sleep towards it. We have a high opinion of fools. They are as the silver cows that are always standing ready to be milked. Those only make the mistake about their productiveness who bring the wrong pail.

It is easy to unlock the heart of the world when you have an inkling of the true secret. Most people fumble with strange keys, and curse the lock, when they should blame the locksmith !

Blessed with an indomitable desire to travel, I have yet been as one of those Cockneys who are always at their happiest in clinging to their London post. I was ever of so restless a disposition, that no clock ever went fast enough for me. I remember very well that I was once caught mounted on a chair, with a stick in my hand, reaching on tiptoe to set on the hands of a clock, which, somehow, did not please me,

inasmuch as it only measured sixty minutes to the hour. The hour-hand seemed awfully to creep, and even the minute-hand, I thought, might be quicker over his work. I could not understand why pendulums should be so deliberate. Being made to go, I calculated that they ought to go in good earnest ! Never was I so delighted as when once I impatiently removed the dead-headed weight to an old clock of my grandmother's, and had the pleasure to see the hands twirling round, and the cords running down, and the bells striking as brisk as you please! The day was done in no time, for there were twelve hours marked on the dial as having been circumvolved.

Coupled with this impatience of time, the leverage which sets most travellers in motion, was a desire to penetrate into remote spots. My marbles insinuatingly rolled away between palings, and would penetrate into unknown backyards. I have actually severed the strings of some kites, and permitted some of the most inestimably painted to

"Down the wind,"

in order that, though I might not attain to those extraordinary spots to which my kite found access, at least my representative could. I have left "parents and guardians, nay, I have turned a deaf ear to the objurgations of nurserymaids. Intent on my darling project, that of unveiling some of the mysteries of this lower world-of visiting regions which haunted my imagination as the song of birds, reminding them of home, provokes the memory of languishing pilgrims, I committed myself in various escapades which had much of luck and little of sagacity to recommend them.

PLATITUDE THE SECOND.

CURIOSITY is a noble faculty. The glorious fault of angels and of men, it leads up to wonderful effects. That vexing wonder which besets the quick-witted sent Columbus measuring his leagues of sea until the three juts of the sunny Trinidad hove up out of that brilliant western blue. Curiosity tempted Schwartzo, the Monk of Cologne, until the very caves in which he wrought grew blacker with the thick mysteries which he sought to cause to flash. Who would have imagined a holy man, whose nose, one would suppose, only ought to have dipped down between the leaves of some sublimely

learned tome, prying into pewter basins and conversant with lazy smokes! The good brothers must have thought their comrade benighted into insanity; we may imagine their curious looks as, perhaps, they peered after him through some rat-hole, and gathered his flitting semblances in the twilight, until they not only made them up a whole, but converted that whole into the very identity of their erring housemate. What but curiosity drove Alexander hither and thither over the continent of Asia? What brought the Queen of Sheba to the foot of Solomon's throne? What sent the Caliph Haroun Alraschid peeping about those streets and blind alleys of Bagdad? That same fatal curiosity was the cause of the fall of not only Bluebeard, but the fall of Bluebeard's head. And we avow and make asseveration that if curiosity can be forgiven in anybody, it can in a woman.

I was so curiously occupied one fine morning at about four past meridian, when London was in the height of its season, and its carriages proportionably enraged. It thus happened that I essayed the crossing at Charing-Cross in an unfortunate obliviousness as to there being aught besides myself and the sun to share the glories of as fine an afternoon as ever shone out of heaven. I had just made the turn off from Northumberland House, and with my eye fixed upon a sparrow which had just taken the liberty of alighting on the head of King Charles, was adventuring a passage which common sense commonly assumes as dangerous. I was sensible of some impediment as I stepped off the pavement, and was recalled to a sense of it, as well as to a persuasion of my danger, in recognising a crossing-sweeper whose broom was the warrant of his character.

"For Lord's sake, master, stop a bit, and let them carriages go by!"

"With all my heart, my friend," I thought, though (being proud) I did not say it. I looked at the utterer of this wellintentioned caution, and saw that he was diminutive, even of his calling, which breeds the dumpy.

There was a pert vivacity in his face which seemed to have grown by what it fed on, namely, the heedlessness of the public to him. His garments were nondescript; his head was small, which was all the better, as he had a shrivelled hat, or rather a rim and crown. I did not dare to count his buttons, for I feared them. His broom, the ensign of his dignity, was a scrubby broom which had seen better days, and had perhaps swept Pall-Mall.