inquiry; and they are questions which must be distinctly answered before
he can be expected to comprehend its true character as a symbolic
institution. He must know something of its antecedents, before he can
appreciate its character.

But he who expects to arrive at a satisfactory solution of this inquiry
must first--as a preliminary absolutely necessary to success--release
himself from the influence of an error into which novices in Masonic
philosophy are too apt to fall. He must not confound the doctrine of
Freemasonry with its outward and extrinsic form. He must not suppose that
certain usages and ceremonies, which exist at this day, but which, even
now, are subject to extensive variations in different countries,
constitute the sum and substance of Freemasonry. "Prudent antiquity," says
Lord Coke, "did for more solemnity and better memory and observation of
that which is to be done, express substances under ceremonies." But it
must be always remembered that the ceremony is not the substance. It is
but the outer garment which covers and perhaps adorns it, as clothing does
the human figure. But divest man of that outward apparel, and you still
have the microcosm, the wondrous creation, with all his nerves, and bones,
and muscles, and, above all, with his brain, and thoughts, and feelings.
And so take from Masonry these external ceremonies, and you still have
remaining its philosophy and science. These have, of course, always
continued the same, while the ceremonies have varied in different ages,
and still vary in different countries.

The definition of Freemasonry that it is "a science of morality, veiled in
allegory, and illustrated by symbols," has been so often quoted, that,
were it not for its beauty, it would become wearisome. But this definition
contains the exact principle that has just been enunciated. Freemasonry
is a science--a philosophy--a system of doctrines which is taught, in a