been. This is the dark, sad story of the world. Look at the present condition of the political world; look at the present condition of the religious world—in proof of what I say. Is not the church of the great Redeemer, planted by his own hands in humiliation and poverty, sorrow and tears, and which he consecrated with his blood, now, at this day a copy of the Jewish church, as it was seen and denounced by the same Saviour, when on earth: as much or more divided is the christian church, than was the Jewish, and now as then, each claims to be the true and only church. But charity requires us to draw a veil over such scenes, and we refer to them, only to enforce more impressively upon you the necessity of preserving, in all their purity and beauty, the Masonic principles of charity, brotherly kindness and good will to all men. Masonry, alone of all associations in the world, has obeyed the apostolic precept, of keeping the unity of the spirit in the bond of peace. What spirit, my brethren? the spirit of love and good will to men—the spirit of God the Father, and great Architect of the universe—who so loved the world as to give his only son a ransom for it; and the spirit of that son, who so loved it, as to die for its redemption. This is the spirit we wish you ever to preserve in unity, harmony and peace. For this is the only spirit that can produce peace and brotherhood in the world. All others are the spirits-of discord, dissension and strife.
The potency of this spirit, or rather its omnipotency, is not sufficiently understood and appreciated. It is not limited by latitude or longitude—it is not bounded by geographical lines, or effected by climates; it is not weakened, or impaired by extension or diffusion; nor is it expended by operation; no, it gathers strength and influence, in proportion to its influence and extension. It regards alike all subjects beneath its control and power—pomp, and titles, and grandeur, wealth and fame, have in themselves no attractions for it; and poverty, obscurity and wretchedness, have no repulsion for it: but to these she would rather wind her silent and gentle way—like the sun, the dews and the rains, that shine alike upon all, visit all and
