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Article MASONIC ANECDOTES. ← Page 3 of 3 Article COLLEGE MUSINGS, Page 1 of 5 →
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Masonic Anecdotes.
A few years ago , thc malignant sirocco of Antimasonry swept over this part of the country , and Captain Sampson was assailed with rancorous bitterness , because he would not yield to the fierce demands of the enemies of his Order , and bow down before the tempest . He was too honest a man , and too faithful a Mason , to violate his obligations , or yield one inch to the requirements of his opposers . He carried his colours at his mast head , and there they still are .
When he shall be summoned from this world to another , he will be supported by his conscious rectitude . May the stone wliich shall mark his last resting-place bear his best eulogium— Here lies the body of an honest man .
College Musings,
COLLEGE MUSINGS ,
RV LITUOURGOS . fCimliuiwdf . -not pii ; . , - ? ( ill .. x ; i .. PT ! x : JM . WHAT a magnet is a well-turned ancle , a pretty waist , and a smiling , good-natured face ! My friend and I were just mounting our horses to take a morning ' s ride to Amblesidewhen otfr progress was impeded b
, y a whole cavalcade of belles and beaux , on their way to ascend Skiddaw . I gave one glance at one who returned it ; and although I hacl been the whole morning conjuring my friend not to think of proposing to reach the summit of that huge mass of kindred clay , and although , too , our time was pressing , as he hacl to pay his respects to the bishop , who was then rusticating on the banks of Grasmere , yet when I beheld so much loveliness beckoning me to go one way , and dutyas it wereanotherI
, , , wavered in my decision , forgetting the toils 1 indolently feared to encounter in the morning . But very simple things very often serve to shake our resolves . A turn of the road carried the party out of my sight , ancl my horse making a brisk start forward , put all wavering out of my head . I gallopped on with my friend , and we amused ourselves in speculating upon vihom they were and whom they would think we were ! Oh ! vanity—vanity—all is vanity ! Two hours' riding through the
most enchanting scenery , brought us to the hermitage of the Bishop of Chester , now of London . It was the most rural , yet classical , seclusion conceivable . The place belonged to the far-famed aud highly-gifted Professor Wilson , who had spared no expense , and displayed much taste , in the fitting it up . It was now occupied , for the summer months , by the most youthful , learned , and pious member of the episcopal bench . My friend having paid his respects , we trotted on to our destination .
Reaching Ambleside in the afternoon , and having bespoke our dinner at the Salutation , a very excellent inn , we sallied out to see the lions . But I must not forget to notice a very neat new church built by Lady F , not far from the entrance into this pretty village . How different to one wliich we had passed some miles on our road before . This was so like a stable , and being situated directly facing a little road-side caravansary , I never should have recognised its real character , had not my friend pointed out the rude belfry , with its rusty , time-worn appendage . I thought of Methodist conventicles , prebends' stalls , and the greediness
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Masonic Anecdotes.
A few years ago , thc malignant sirocco of Antimasonry swept over this part of the country , and Captain Sampson was assailed with rancorous bitterness , because he would not yield to the fierce demands of the enemies of his Order , and bow down before the tempest . He was too honest a man , and too faithful a Mason , to violate his obligations , or yield one inch to the requirements of his opposers . He carried his colours at his mast head , and there they still are .
When he shall be summoned from this world to another , he will be supported by his conscious rectitude . May the stone wliich shall mark his last resting-place bear his best eulogium— Here lies the body of an honest man .
College Musings,
COLLEGE MUSINGS ,
RV LITUOURGOS . fCimliuiwdf . -not pii ; . , - ? ( ill .. x ; i .. PT ! x : JM . WHAT a magnet is a well-turned ancle , a pretty waist , and a smiling , good-natured face ! My friend and I were just mounting our horses to take a morning ' s ride to Amblesidewhen otfr progress was impeded b
, y a whole cavalcade of belles and beaux , on their way to ascend Skiddaw . I gave one glance at one who returned it ; and although I hacl been the whole morning conjuring my friend not to think of proposing to reach the summit of that huge mass of kindred clay , and although , too , our time was pressing , as he hacl to pay his respects to the bishop , who was then rusticating on the banks of Grasmere , yet when I beheld so much loveliness beckoning me to go one way , and dutyas it wereanotherI
, , , wavered in my decision , forgetting the toils 1 indolently feared to encounter in the morning . But very simple things very often serve to shake our resolves . A turn of the road carried the party out of my sight , ancl my horse making a brisk start forward , put all wavering out of my head . I gallopped on with my friend , and we amused ourselves in speculating upon vihom they were and whom they would think we were ! Oh ! vanity—vanity—all is vanity ! Two hours' riding through the
most enchanting scenery , brought us to the hermitage of the Bishop of Chester , now of London . It was the most rural , yet classical , seclusion conceivable . The place belonged to the far-famed aud highly-gifted Professor Wilson , who had spared no expense , and displayed much taste , in the fitting it up . It was now occupied , for the summer months , by the most youthful , learned , and pious member of the episcopal bench . My friend having paid his respects , we trotted on to our destination .
Reaching Ambleside in the afternoon , and having bespoke our dinner at the Salutation , a very excellent inn , we sallied out to see the lions . But I must not forget to notice a very neat new church built by Lady F , not far from the entrance into this pretty village . How different to one wliich we had passed some miles on our road before . This was so like a stable , and being situated directly facing a little road-side caravansary , I never should have recognised its real character , had not my friend pointed out the rude belfry , with its rusty , time-worn appendage . I thought of Methodist conventicles , prebends' stalls , and the greediness