Bishop Hopkins As A Mason.

remains of the original working system , he regarded it as a worthy and estimable benevolent society , which implicitly required its members to become full and positive Christians , not to say Churchmen . And in after years he

often said , that since the Romanists and some of the Protestant denominations had both run amuck at the Freemasons , the true policy of the Church was to meet them with open arms . So deeply was he interested in the Order , that he not only delivered an address , which was printed , but he also began a poem

entitled "Freemasonry , — -the longest and most elaborate work that he ever wrote in verse . The object of it was to illustrate , in a tale of varied and striking incident , the beneficient workings of the order , its close affiliation

with pure and true religion , and its incompatibility with Romanism . The hold which this theme had obtained upon him . maybe inferred from the fact that this poem was completed many long years after he had ceased all

practical connection with the Order . His kindly feeling continued strongly during bis whole life .

Such is the testimony which one of the ablest Bishops of the Protestant Episcopal Church in America bore , while living , to the purity and usefulness of Freemasonry as practised within his own diocese , and by the worshippers

of his own Church . We lay it before our readers as a complete and sufficient answer to the accusations and slanders of the clerical fanatics at the West , who are doing their utmost to organize a religious opposition to it .

The poem above referred to , consists of seventeen cantos , and would make , if printed , about two hundred and fifty pages . "We are told that it is an interesting story , with the necessary changes and action in the plot to give

it life and animation , and would probably prove remunerative it published in a style worthy of its merits . —Boston Freemasons' Monthly .

The Loved And Lost.

THE LOVED AND LOST .

" The loved and lost ! " Why do we call them lost ? Because we miss tliem from our outward road . God's unseen angel o'er our pathway crossed , Looked on us all , and loving them the most , Straightway relieved them from life ' s weary load . They are not lost ; they are within the door

That shuts out loss and every hurtful thing—With angels bright , and loved ones gone before , In their Redeemer ' s presence evermore , And God Himself tlieir Lord , their Judge and King . And this we call a loss ! Oil , selfish sorrow

Of scliish hearts ! Oh , we of little faith ! Let us look round , some argument to borrow . Why we in patience wait the morrow , That surely must succeed this night of death . Ay , look upon tins dreary , desert path , The thorns ami thistles wheiesoe'er we turn ; What trials and what tears , what wrongs and wrath . What struggles and what strife the journey liath ! They have escaped from these ; and lo ! we mourn

Ask the poor sailor , when the wreck is done , Who with Ids treasure strove the shore to reach , While with the raging waves he battled on ; Was it not joy , when every joy seemed gone , To see his loved ones landed on the tech ? A poor wayfarer , leading by the hand

A little child , had halted by the well , To wasli from off her feet the clinging sand , And tell the tired boy of that bright land Where , - this long journey past , they longed to dwell . When lo ! the Lord , who many mansions hod ,

Drew near and looked upon the suffering twain , Then , pitying , spake , " Give lie the little lad ; In strength renewed and glorious beauty clad , I'll bring bin with me when I come again . "

Did she make answer , selfishly and wrong —• " Nay , but the woes I feel he , too , must share !" Or , rather bursting into gainful song , She went her way rejoicing , and made strong To struggle on , since he was freed from care . We will do likewise . Death has made no breach

In love and sympathy , in hope and trust ; No outward sigh or sound our ears can reach , 13 ut there ' s an inward , spiritual spcecli That greets us still , though mortal tongues be dust . It bids us do the work that they laid down—Take up the songs where they broke off the strain

So journeying till we reach the heavenly town , Where arc laid up our treasures and our crown , And our lost loved ones will be found again . —New York iJisnidch .