The smoke from the townships curls white o'er

the plain,

Rich harbours and cities are fringing the sea,
And ships are the fruit of the old forest-tree;
Whilst ev'rywhere rising, in town and in grove,
Are Masons' Halls-Temples to BROTHERLY
LOVE!

O'er the land and the sea, with standard unfurl'd,
The Mason, advancing, will conquer the world!
When rulers infuriate, marshal their strength,
And war, with its horrors, seems coming at length;
When the lips of the many are pallid with rage,
And the heart of the warrior burns to engage;
When maidens and matrons are praying for peace,
Would Masonry rise and bid Passion to cease!
But tho' nerving fast and expanding in girth,
Not now is our Empire supreme in the earth.
Yet one day the progress of culture and mind,
The growth of the general weal of mankind,
Will loudly proclaim, in the blaze of the sun,
"Tho' rulers be many, THE PEOPLES ARE ONE;
Then Masons will hail their behest from above,
Resting victorious in-BROTHERLY LOVE.

XVIII. THE TEMPLE OF MASONRY.
(By Bro. W: Snewing.)

Lo! where yon structure rears its ample dome!
'Tis light's abode-'tis Masonry's high home.
See where its walls, by love cemented, rise,
Till their bright turrets pierce the brighter skies!
From where the East pours forth the ruddy day,
To where the West receives its fading ray,
From the mild South, to where the gelid North
Marshals its storms, and sends them hurtling
forth,

In form symmetrical the pile extends,

Nor with earth's centre, or Heaven's concave, ends.

Three pillars huge, their polished fabrics rear,
And with united force the structure bear.

This Wisdom called, that Strength, that Beauty named:

Emblems of Him whose hand the temple framed. Of work mosaic, wrought with matchless skill; The pavement's formed-designed the mind to fill

With truthful images of man's estate,

To curb proud scorn, and suff'ring truth elate.
A blazing sun in liquid azure glows,

And o'er the starry.roof its lustre throws;
While all around, bright hieroglyphics gleam,
Like Heaven's jewels in a slumb'ring stream.
Between the pavement, and the starry spheres,
Of many steps, a rising way appears;
Pleasing the path, to him with Faith inspired,
By Hope sustained, by Charity attired:
But effort impotent, and labour vain,

To him who strives with carnal step to gain,
From out the temple flashing with light's beams,
Three rivers gush - then mix their crystal
streams;

Still as they roll, the limpid waves expand,
Bless ev'ry shore, and gladden ev'ry land,
With the full tide of sweet fraternal love,
Relief and Truth, all hallowed from above,

XIX. AN ADDRESS TO THE FREE-
MASONS.

(By Eliza Cook.)

A rich man lived 'mid all that life could know
Of peace and plenty in our lot below;
His wealth was ready, and his hand was kind,
Where friends might sue, or rigid duty bind

He gave to kindred, and bestowed his aid
Where Right could sanction the demand it made.
But there he paused; his bosom never felt
Compassion's impulse kindle, rise. and melt.
With stoic ease, he turned from every cause
That had no claim except through Mercy's laws;
And, coldly good, he measured out his span-
An honest, moral, true, and prudent man.

The rich man died; and, cleansed from earthly leaven,

Upward he sprang, on pinions stretch'd, for Heaven.

Onward he soared, and well nigh reached the gate,

Where angel sentries ever watch and wait;

But there he fluttered, just below the place
Where Bliss and Glory pour their crowning
grace,

Striving with hope to gain the eternal height,
And weakly drooping as he sought the flight.
"'Tis vain," the Angel-Keeper cried, "'tis vain!
Thou must return and dwell on earth again.
One feather more thy ample wings must wear
Ere they will bear thee through this ambient air.
Good as thou art, go back to human dust;
Man, to be godlike, must be more than just.”
The humbled spirit took its downward way,
And here resumed its working garb of clay.
For three score years and ten it stemm'd Life's
tide,

And breathed and thought-the trying and the tried.

Still was he honest; still he loved the best

The ones who claimed the kindness in his breast.
Still was he trusted as the type of truth-
The moral oracle of age and youth.

His love began with mother, wife, child, friend;
But there he found affection must not end.
His gentle sympathy now turned to heed

The stranger's sorrow, and the stranger's need.
With right good will he ever sought to dry
The tear that dimmed the lovely orphan's eye.
He gave his pity and bestowed his gold
Where want abided with the poor and old;
He burst the bands of duty's narrow thrall,
His soul grew wider, and he felt for all.
The rich man died. Again his spirit fiew
On through the broad Elysian fields of blue;
Higher-siill higher-till he saw once more
The crystal arch he failed to reach before:
And, trembling there, he feared to task his might
To travel further in the realms of light.

"Fear not," the Angel-Warder cried; "I see
The plume that now will waft thee on to me.
Thy wings have now the feather that alone
Lifts the created to the Maker's throne.
'Tis Mercy-bounteous Mercy-warm and wide,
That brings the mortal to the Maker's side.
'Tis dove-eyed Mercy deifles the dust;
Man, to be Godlike, must be more than just.
Up to thy place." The spirit soon obeyed
The angel's word. A tone of music played
In melting murmurs round the field of blue,
As cherubs came to lead the spirit through.
The crystal portal opened at the strain;
The spirit passed, the angel watched again,
Still crying to the short-winged sons of dust,
"Man, to be Godlike, must be more than just."
Ye-willing workers in a sacred band,
Among the noblest in our noble land-
Ye gladly build, in Charity's blest name,
The Christian altars raised to England's fame;
Altars that serve to break the storms that rage
In fearful gloom round poverty and age.
Ye help the friendless with a cheerful zeal;
Ye feel for want as man should ever feel:
o shed the essence of your God around,
God is seen where Charity is found.

Fear not to die, for freely do ye share
Some of the "talents" trusted to your care.
Well may ye hope to gain the highest flight
Toward the portal of celestial light,

For if that portal Mercy's plume can win,
Ye bear the pinions that shall let you in.

XX.

(By Bro. J. L. Stevens.)

Great Universal Architect,
Our labours aid, our plans direct,
Until delighted we complete
This monument of art,
Where Masons may securely meet,
And mysteries impart.

Let Science here her sway extend,
And Genius ev'ry power lend,

And Knowledge, Truth, and Purity,
Inspire our skilful band;

While Faith, and Hope, and Charity,
Support us hand in hand.

Hence! horrid Strife; mad Discord, hence!
Ye must not dare to wound the sense,
Where Peace and Love united dwell,
Blessing their sacred home,
And Masonry her magic spell
Has flung around the dome!

XXI.

(Translated from the French.)

Shall Envy's tongue, with slander foul,
My Brothers, brand our race august,
Incessant shall the fury howl,

Licking black venom from the dust?