“ ‘Do you believe,’ asks the Venerable, ‘in a Supreme Being?’ The answer of the candidate is usually in the affirmative. And then the president may reply: ‘This answer does you honor. If we admit persons of all persuasions, it is because we do not pry into the conscience. We believe that the incense of virtue is acceptable to the Deity, in whatever form it is offered. Our toleration proceeds not from atheism, but from liberality and philosophy.’ ”

But mark what follows:

“If the candidate in his reply says he does not believe in God, the president is to say: ‘Atheism is incomprehensible. The only division possible among candid men is on the question whether the First Cause is spirit or matter. But a materialist is no atheist.’ ”

This is a specimen of Masonic theology, expressed in guarded terms, to respect the weaker susceptibilities of an assembly of apprentices; for we must remember that we are assisting at an initiation to the first grade, which is conducted in presence of the youngest Masons. Still, no veil can conceal the boldness of the declaration, and the apology of materialism will surely not protect the dullest adept who remembers the first lessons of his catechism from taking scandal at its effrontery. But if he is to graduate in the higher honors, he must sooner or later get an inkling of what is in reserve, and it is as well that from the very first grade he should be able without much help to proceed to the development of the Masonic idea of God—nature and that universe of which he himself is a part—to pantheism pure and simple. Indeed, the Rivista della Massoneria of the 1st of August, 1874, ventures a little further: “All are aware that this formula (Great Architect of the Universe) by common consent has no exclusive meaning, much less a religious one. It is a formula that adapts itself to every taste, even an atheist's.”[178]

After this it is scarcely necessary to read on in the Ritual:

“ ‘What is deism?’ asks the president. Having heard the answer, he is to subjoin: ‘Deism is belief in God without revelation or worship. It is the religion of the future, destined to supersede all other systems in the world.’ ”

The catechising proceeds in a similar strain through a multiplicity of questions, which are all treated with a studied ambiguity of language, affirming and denying, saying and unsaying in a breath, leaving nothing unimplied, to satisfy advanced impiety, and softening down the bolder expressions that would grate on the ears of a novice.

When the examination is over, the marking of the new brother is to be proceeded with. He is told to prepare to receive the impression of a hot iron on his person, and is requested to mention on what part he would prefer to be branded. The Masons then go through the preparations of lighting a fire, blowing with a bellows, turning the iron with tongs, discussing the redness of the heated instrument, all in the hearing of the patient, who, still blind-folded, [pg 732] stands pale and trembling, in spite of his resolution to go through the operation. The diversion this torture affords the lodge may well be imagined. Of course there is no branding, but the rituals suggest different methods of producing the sensation. One recommends violent friction of the part indicated for branding, and then the sudden application of a piece of ice. Another directs the hot wick of a candle just blown out to be pressed against the skin. Sometimes the president declares himself satisfied with the resignation of the neophyte, and dispenses with the operation. Generally the ceremonies of the Ritual are considerably curtailed in practice; not even Masons can endure their tedious trifling.

After this the oath is to be administered. The candidate is warned of the sacred, inviolable, perpetual nature of the obligation he is about to assume; and when he has signified his willingness to be bound by it, he is told that as the time is approaching when he will be admitted to the secrets of the order, the order requires of him a guarantee—to consist in the manifestation of some secret confided to him, that he is not at liberty to reveal. If the candidate agrees, he is to be sharply reprimanded; if he does not consent, the president praises his discretion. The latter then proceeds to inform the candidate that the oath he is about to take requires him to give all his blood for the society. When the candidate assents, his word is at once put to the test, and he is asked if he is really to allow a vein to be immediately opened. This proposal usually draws out a remonstrance, and the victim's ordinary objection is the weakness of his health, or the probable derangement of his digestion by such an operation following so soon after dinner. In the lodge, however, this is provided for. The surgeon gravely advances, feels the patient's pulse, and infallibly declares that he lies, that the blood-letting can do him no harm, and positively assures him he will be the better for it. The bleeding is performed in this manner: The surgeon binds the arm, and pricks the vein with a tooth-pick or such like. An assistant drops on it a small stream of tepid water, which trickles over the arm of the patient into a vessel held below. The counterfeit is perfect. The arm is bandaged, arranged in a sling, and the poor man, blindfolded, half-naked, terrified, wearied, branded, and bled, is at length conducted to the altar, or table of the presiding master, to seal his initiation with the final oath. There, on his knees, holding in his left hand the points of an open compass against his breast, with his right on the sword of the president (or, according to another ritual, on a Bible, a compass, and a square), he takes the oath, which we give in its naked impiety, as found in the Ritual secretly printed at Naples in 1869:

“I, N. N., do swear and promise of my own free-will, before the Great Architect of the Universe, and on my honor, to keep inviolable silence on all the secrets of Freemasonry that may be communicated to me, as also on whatever I may see done or hear said in it, under pain of having my throat cut, my tongue torn out, my body cut into pieces, burned, and its ashes scattered to the wind, that my name may go down in execrated memory and eternal infamy. I promise and swear to give help and assistance to all brother Masons, and swear never to belong to any society, under whatever name, form, or title, opposed to Masonry; subjecting myself, if I break my word, to all the penalties established for perjury. Finally, I swear obedience and submission to the general statutes of the order, to the particular regulations of this [pg 733]lodge, and to the Supreme Grand Orient of Italy.”