Where the idols are fed with incense by the streams of Ching-wang-foo; where the minarets soar sparkling above the cypresses, their reflections quivering in the lucid waters of the Golden Horn; where the yellow Tiber flows under broken bridges and over imperial glories; where the huts are squatted by the Niger, under the palm-trees; where the Northern Babel lies, with its warehouses, and its bridges, its graceful factory-chimneys, and its clumsy fanes--hidden in fog and smoke by the dirtiest river in the world--in all the cities of mankind there is One Home whither men of one family may resort.

Over the entire world spreads a vast brotherhood, suffering, silent, scattered, sympathizing, WAITING--an immense Free-Masonry.

Once this world-spread band was an Arabian clan--a little nation alone and outlying amongst the mighty monarchies of ancient time, the Megatheria of history.

The sails of their rare ships might be seen in the Egyptian waters; the camels of their caravans might thread the sands of Baalbec, or wind through the date-groves of Damascus; their flag was raised, not ingloriously, in many wars, against mighty odds; but 'twas a small people, and on one dark night the Lion of Judah went down before Vespasian's Eagles, and in flame, and death, and struggle, Jerusalem agonized and died.

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