Masonic Duties.

benefits of the Order ; it rejoices in the elevation aud prosperity of a brother ; and it sj'mpathizes in the humiliation and adversity of the unfortunate . It startles the erring brother that was beginning to fall , and comes not with noisy purpose or ostentatious liberality , which , like the potent storm , tears up the earth which it should enrich , but falls gently and equally , like the blessed dew of heaven that nourishes and invigorates where it rests , and sparkles in the sunlight as if in token of its gratitude . These are some of the branches of the virtues of our Craft—only some . Who shall count them all' ? They are the life of social existence—they are of the blessed things of earth that take hold on heaven .

The Calm Of Death.

THE CALM OF DEATH .

" The moon looks calmly down when man is dying , The earth still holds her way , Flowers breathe their perfume , and the winds keep sighing , Naught seems to pause or stay !" Cr . Asr the hands meekly over the still breast , for they have no more work to do . Close the weary eyes—there are no more tears to shed ; part the damp locks—there is no more pain to bear . Closed is the heart alike to love ' s kind

voice and calumny ' s stinging whispers . 0 ! if in that ' still heart you have ruthlessly planted a thorn , if from that pleading eye 3 'ou have turned carelessly away , if your loving glance , and kindly word , and clasping hands have come all too late—then God forgive you ! No frown gathers on the marble brow , as you gaze , no scorn curls the chiselled lip , no flush of wounded feeling mounts to the blue-veined temples . God forgive you ! for your feettoomust shrink appalled from death ' s

, , cold river ; your faltering tongue ask , "Can this be death' ? " your fading eyes linger lovingly on the sunny earth ; your clammy hand yield its last faint pressure ; your sinking pulse its last feeble flutter . 0 , rapacious grave ! yet another victim for thy voiceless keeping . What ! not a word of welcome from all the houseless sleepers ?—no warm greeting from a sister's loving lips ; no throb of pleasure from the maternal bosom ? Silent all !

0 , if these broken links were never , never gathered up ! If beyond death ' s swelling flood there were no eternal shore ! If for the struggling bark there were no port of peace ! If athwart that lowering cloud sprang no bow of promise ! Alas for love , if this be all , and naught beyond , 0 , earth !•—American Freemason ,

REAL COURAGE . —I have read of a bird , which hath a face like , and yet will prey upon , a man ; who coining to the water to drink , and finding there by reflection , that he had killed one like himself , piiieth away by degrees , and never afterwards enjoyeth itself . Such is in some sort the condition of Sir Edward Harwood . This accident , that he had killed one in a private quarrel , put a period to his carnal mirth , and to his all the of his life

was a covering eyes days . No possible provocations could afterwards tempt him to a duel ; and no wonder that one's conscience loathed ¦ that whereof he had surfeited . He refused all challenges with more honour than others accepted them ; it being well kuowii , that he would set his foot as fay in the face of liis enemy as any man alive . — Fuller .