A Man is a Mason when he can look out over the rivers, the hills, and the far horizons with a profound sense of his own littleness in the vast scheme of things, and yet have faith, hope and courage. When he knows that down in his heart every man is as noble, as vile, as divine, as diabolic, and as lonely as himself, and seeks to know, to forgive, and to love his fellowman. When he knows how to sympathize with man in their sorrows, yea, even in their sins -- knowing that each man fights a hard fight against many odds. When he has learned how to make friends and to keep them, and above all learned how to be friends with himself. When he loves flowers, can hunt the birds without a gun, and feels the thrill of an old forgotten joy when he hears the laugh of a little child. When he can be happy and high-minded amid the meaner drudgeries of life. When star-crowned trees and the glint of sunlight on the flowing waters subdue him like the thought of one much loved and long dead. When no voice of distress reaches his ears in vain, and no hand seeks his aid without response. When he finds good in every faith that helps any man to lay hold of higher things, and to see majestic meanings in life, whatever the name of the faith may be. When he can look into the way-side puddle and see something besides mud, and into the face of the most forlorn mortal and see something beyond sin. When he knows how to pray, how to love, how to hope. When he has kept faith with himself, and his fellowman and with his God; in his hand a sword for evil, in his heart a bit of song--glad to live, but not afraid to die! In such a man, whether he be rich or poor, scholarly or unlearned, famous or obscure, Masonry has wrought her sweet ministry.

JOSEPH FORT NEWTON