—Solomon in all his Glory—He Defines Drinking to be a Religious Exercise—True Blue and the Equivocal—Phil's Eloquence—A Charter Toast.
From the same to the same.
“Friday, * * *
“The order of business for each night of meeting is, I find, as follows:—1. Lodge to open with prayer, members standing. 2. General rules read. 3. Members proposed. 4. Reports from committee. 5. Names of members called over. 6. Members balloted for. 7. Members made. 8. Lodge to close with prayer, members standing.
“It was about eight o'clock, when, accompanied by a young fellow named Graham, we reached the Lodge, which, in violation of one of its own rules, was held in what was formerly called the Topertoe Tavern, but which has since been changed to the Castle Cumber Arms—being a field per pale, on which is quartered a purse, and what seems to be an inverted utensil of lead, hammered into a coronet. In the other is a large mouth, grinning, opposite to which is a stuffed pocket, from which hangs the motto, 'ne quid detrimenti res privata capiat.' Under the foot of the gentleman is the neck of a famine-struck woman, surrounded by naked and starving children, and it is by the convenient aid of her neck that he is enabled to reach the purse, or; and, indeed, such is his eagerness to catch it and the coronet, that he does not seem to care much whether he strangles her or not. On the leaden coronet, is the motto, alluding to the head which fills it, 'similis simili gaudet.'
“I should mention, before proceeding further, that Mr. Valentine M'Clutchy, being master of the Lodge in question, was the individual from whom I had received permission to be present under the circumstances already specified. The ceremony of making a member is involved in that ridiculous mystery which is calculated to meet the vulgar prejudices of low and ignorant men. Sometimes they are made one by one, and occasionally, or, I believe, more frequently in batches of three or more, in order to save time and heighten the effect. The novice, then, before entering the Lodge, is taken into another room, where he is blindfolded, and desired to denude himself of his shoes and stockings, his right arm is then taken out of his coat and shirt sleeves, in order to leave his right shoulder bare. He then enters the Lodge, where he is received in silence with the exception of the master, who puts certain queries to him, which must be appropriately answered. After this he receives on the naked shoulder three smart slaps of the open hand, as a proof of his willingness to bear every kind of persecution for the sake of truth—of his steadfastness to the principles of Orangeism, and of his actual determination to bear violence, and, if necessary, death itself, rather than abandon it or betray his brethren.
“About nine o'clock the business of the Lodge had been despatched, and in a few minutes I received an intimation to enter from the Deputy Master, who was no other than the redoubtable and heroic Phil himself; the father having been prevented from coming, it appeared, by sudden indisposition. As I entered, they were all seated, to the number of thirty-five or forty, about a long table, from which rose, reeking and warm, the powerful exhalations of strong punch. On paying my respects, I was received and presented to them by Phil, who on this occasion, was in great feather, being rigged out in all the paraphernalia of Deputy Master. The rest, also, were dressed in their orange robes, which certainly gave them a good deal of imposing effect.
“'Gentlemen,' said Phil,—'Bob Sparrow, I'll trouble you to touch the bell, and be d—d to you—gentlemen, this is a particular friend of mine and my father's—that is, we intend to make a good deal of interest in him, if it's not his own fault, and to push him on in a way that may serve him—but, then, he's in the dark yet; however, I hope he won't be long so. This, gentlemen, is Mr. Weasel from England, who has come over to see the country.'
“'Your health, Mr. Weasel,' resounded from all sides, 'you're welcome among us, and so is every friend of brother Captain Phil's.'
“'Gentlemen,' said I,' I feel much obliged for the cordiality of your reception—but, allow me to say, that Mr. M'Clutchy has made a slight mistake in my name, which is Easel, not Weasel.'