V. C. : I accept the emblem (takes it from him) as

an evidence of your intention to join us in the practice of fraternity ; and I will now instruct you in the secret work of this rank.
(This is done, and then candidate is brought before the Chancellor Commander, who standing says:)
The friendship of Damon and Pythias shines through the mists of centuries, a glowing tribute to the human- ity of the past. It was made the sweet song of ancient
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Greece, and is immortalized in the permanence of our order.
Damon, a senator of Syracuse, had incurred the dis- pleasure of Dionysius,* and was under sentence of death. Many delighted to honor him when he wore the robes of office; now he had but one friend in all Syra- cuse, the companion of his brighter, better days. Pythias was true, and knowing Damon's love of home, he begged the tyrant to grant his friend a respite, that he might see his wife and child before he died, and offered him- self as a hostage, as a pledge for Damon's return. The fervor of tliis strange request touched the heart of Di- onysiiis. It was to him a mystery. He granted the re- quest, and Pythias became a hostage for Damon, who hastened toward liouu^ by the distant sea. The mystery deepens — the tyrant cannot solve it. By this decree, in tlie lone dungeon wliere Pythias wears the chains, the
Note — This is the Dionysius of whom history, among many other things, tells us this: "Dion, the philosopher, one day gave a sharp reproof to him on account of his cruelty. Diony- sius felt highly offended and resolved to avenge himself on Dion. So he took the son of Dion prisoner, not indeed, to kill him. but to give him up into the hands of an irreligious teacher. After the young man had been long enough under the teacher to learn from him everything that was bad and im- pious, Dionysius sent him back to his father. The object he had in view was this: He foresaw that this corrupted son, by his impious conduct during his whole life-time would cause the fatiier constant grief and sorrow, so much so that he would be for him a life-long affliction and curse. Tins the tyrant thought was the longest and greatest revenge he could take on Dion for having censured his conduct."
By many it is asserted that the name of Dionysius stands in some Castles, not for the tyrant of Syracuse, but for Diony- sius the Greek divinity, the father of wine, the god of drunken- ness, lie presided over vineyards, and his worship was at- tended with disgraceful orgies — with wild dances, noisy revels, excitins music and frenzied demonstrations.
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fair Calanthe urges her lover to break his bond and lly with her where danger cannot come. He will not go; he has pledged his word ; honor is more to him than life, and in his refusal the tyrant marvels still more.
Will Damon return ? The love of home, of wife and child, the tender memories that shine like burning stars through the gathering gloom, hold him, until, ere he knows, the last hour of respite is hastening by. Giving a last fond embrace to his loved ones, a last longing, lingering look at his once happy home, he starts for Syracuse, to redeem his promise and save his friend.
The hour of execution is at hand; Damon has not returned and his hostage is brought to the block to suffer in his stead. The evening sitn shines golden on the tow- ers and temples of ancient Syracuse as Pythias looks out among the vast throng, who taunt him with the seeming falseness of his friend. Relying upon the honor of Damon, trusting in his word, proud of his friendship, he calls upon the gods to prevent his return, and, in res- ponse to the cruel jeers of the mob, proclaims the fidelity of Damon, and turns to meet his fate.
At the last moment, when the headsman's ax is raised, a horseman is seen in the distance, coming with the speed of the wind.
It is Damon — he has been true to his promise. He has saved his friend. The air resounds with the sliouts of the populace, in recognition of a virtue that has long been buried under the weight of human selfishness. At the strange scene the tyrant looks in wonderment, and as he looks, the cruel purpose of the hour passes away, and friendship sits upon the throne, wearing the crown "that ne'er encumbers nor can be transferred''. The heroes still live, and will live while friendship warms the heart
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of man. This virtue is the corner-stone of the Order, and our members are sworn to exercise it toward each other.
Keep sacred the lesson of tonight; and so live that when you come to the river that marks the unknown shore, your hands may be filled with deeds of charity, "the golden keys that open the palace of eternity. I now confer upon you the rank of Page in the Order of Pythias" (invests the candidate with a blue collar.)
In conferring the second degree or Rank of Esquire, the Master-at-Arms brings the candidate before the Pre- late and says :
"Prelate, by order of the Chancellor Commander, I present a Page that you may administer to him the obli- gation of the rank of Esquire. Prelate : Advance your left foot, place your left hand upon your breast, close your right hand, raise your right arm as if to strike a downward blow, and repeat after me :
"I, jN". N"., solemnly promise that I will never reveal the password, grip, signs, or any other secret or mysteries of this rank, except in a Lodge of this Order, recognized by and under the control of the Supreme Lodge, Knights of Pythias of the World, or whom being examined by the proper officers of a Lodge, or to one whom I shall know to be a member of this rank.
"I specially promise that I will not commit to writing any of the secret work of this Order, so that it may be- come known ; nor will I permit it to be done by another, if in my power to prevent.
'^I further promise, so far as may be in my power, to guard the good name of a member of this or any other rank of this Order, and I will not speak ill of him until
1A5
I am satisfied, by careful investigation, that he has dis- regarded his obligation, has violated the laws of his^ country, or has been guilty of conduct unbecoming a gentleman. I further promise that in my dealings with men, I will endeavor to be careful, cautious, and pru- dent: and for the frailties of others will exercise the same charity I would ask for myself.
"To the faithful observance of this obligation I pledge my secred word of honor. So help me God and may He keep me steadfast.''
In initiating the candidate for the rank of Knight the Master-at-Arms brings him to the dark room and puts him in charge of a Monitor, who gives him a lengthy admonition and closes the same by saying:
"The darkness which surrounds you is symbolic of life. Man sits in gloom, and the purpose of his existence is a mystery.
"Thus shut out from the light of day ^the world for- getting, by the world forgot' — learn now from me the highest purpose of our Order. As you are now helpless, alone, an unmanned bark upon an unknown sea, your heart-beats the only chart and log-book, hear what I Avould say ; and as you hear, resolve that from the ashes of the past you will arise, and, in the spirit of Pythian fidelity, do your duty to your fellows and to your God."
After some more talk of this kind the candidate is placed in company with Pythagoras who addresses him thus :
"Pythagoras to candidate. — In me behold Pythagoras. Centuries before your eyes had opened upon the light of day, I had attained the knowledge of all the ages. The arts of ancient Eg}^pt, the science of Arabia and the philosophy of Phoenicia, the lore of the Chaldean sages
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and the occult mysteries of the Persian Magi, are to jne an open book. I welcome you as a seeker after know- ledge; but bear in mind, O neophyte, this truth — the wish to know contains not always the faculty to acquire. He who seeks to discover must first learn to imagine and to deliberate. The life that contemplates is nobler than the life that enjoys. He who merely is, may be a dull, insensate hind: he who is, is in himself divine. The journey which is before you is to you unknown. It lies, perhaps, through flower bespangled plains and verdant meads, where summer sunshine shifts through inter- lacing bonghs, and perfumed zephyrs sigh, and music throated bii-ds entrance the listening ear. It peradven- ture winds its devious and uncertain way along the mountain-side, where unsealed peaks their towering summits lift amid the thunder's sullen roar, and deptli^ abysmal yawn beyond the treacherous precipice, or else where darkling rivers run, 'mid ray less gloom, through caverns measureless to man, down to a sunless sea. Mayhap it leads through bog and fen and foul morass, where hideous creatures climb and crawl, and slimy serpents cling and coil, and nameless, countless horrors lurk unseen. Fear is the deadliest foe of knowledge. Be l)rav(>. The coward fancies perils which may not exist, and dies a thou- sand deaths: to tlie hern danger comes only to nerve his arm and steel his soul to combat and to con- quer. x\nd now, farewell. You go to claim the golden spur that knighthood wears. To wear it you must win it. Should you succeed, your guerdon and reward will be companionship witkloyal-hearted and chivalric knights; should you fail, on you and you alone will rest the bur- den of the blame." (The Senate Chamber is now pre-
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pared, and when the Senators have taken tlieir seats the King enters and tlie Herald cries:)
Herald— "The King."
King (having taken his position and is standing) — *'Is every Senator in his proper place?"
Herald (saluting) — "All are present sire."
King — "With knightl}^ conrtesy I greet you." (Sena- tors salute.) "Be seated. Senators." (King and Senators take seats. Herald and attendants remain standing.) "Senators, you are the chosen guardians of the portals through which must pass all who would attain the hon- ors of Pythian knighthood. Your decisions are su- preme and from your edicts, once formally pronounced, there is no ap|)eal. As senators, pledged to protect our Order against the intrusion of those unfit to wear the armor of a Knight, I urge you to be ever on your guard, and to let nothing swerve you from the line of Pythian duty. Do not measure value by the effrontery which is too often the mask of cowardice, nor count as fear the gentle mien that is frequently the guise of sterling man- hood. Seek always to have the full and perfect meas- ure of him who craves from you the honor of the knight- ly spur. In all you do, be just and yet be merciful. Re- member,
"Wise were the kings who never chose a friend
till they had unmasked his soul
And seen the bottom of his deepest thoughts."
There is present an Esquire who seeks to stand upon the summit of Pythian knighthood. Avouching his readi- ness to undertake any duty, to undergo any test, which, your wisdom may prescribe, he awaits with confidence your decree. Ere he is brought before you, I have but this to say : To be held worthy of the high honor that he
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and the occult mysteries of the Persian Magi, are to ;nc an open hook. I welcome you as a seeker after know- ledge; but bear in mind, 0 neophyte, this truth — the wish to know contains not always the faculty to acquire. He who seeks to discover must first learn to imagine and to deliberate. The life that contemplates is nobler than the life that enjoys. He who merely is, may be a dull, insensate liind: he who is, is in himself divine. The journey which is before you is to you unknown. It lies, perhaps, through flower bespangled plains and verdant meads, where summer sunshine shifts through inter- lacing boughs, and perfumed zephyrs sigh, and music throated birds entrance the listening ear. It peradven- ture winds its devious and uncertain wa}^ along the mountain-side, where unsealed peaks their towering summits lift amid the tliuncler's sullen roar, and depths abysmal yawn beyond the treacherous precipice, or else where darkling rivers run, 'mid rayless gloom, through caverns measureless to man, down to a sunless sea. Mayhap it leads through bog and fen and foul morass, where hideous creatures climb and crawl, and slimy serpents cling and coil, and nameless, countless horrors lurk unseen. Fear is the deadliest foe of knowledge. Be l)ra\('. The coward fancies perils which may not exist, and dies a thou- sand deaths : to the Jiero danger comes only to nerve his arm and steel his soul to combat and to con- quer. And now, farewell. You go to claim the golden spur that knighthood wears. To wear it you must win it. Should you succeed, your guerdon and reward will be companionship witluloyal-hearted and chivalric knights; should you fail, on you and you alone will rest the bur- den of the blame." (The Senate Chamber is now pre-
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pared, and when the Senators have taken their seats the King enters and tlie Herald cries : )
Herald— "The King."
King (having taken his position and is standing) — "Is every Senator in his proper place ?'^
Herald (saluting) — "All are present sire."
King — "With knightly conrtesy I greet you." (Sena- tors salute.) "Be seated, Senators." (King and Senators take seats. Herald and attendants remain standing.) "Senators, you are the chosen guardians of the portals through which must pass all who would attain the hon- ors of Pythian knighthood. Your decisions are su- preme and from your edicts, once formally pronounced, there is no appeal. As senators, pledged to protect our Order against the intrusion of those unfit to wear the armor of a Knight, I urge you to be ever on your guard, and to let nothing swerve you from the line of Pythian duty. Do not measure value by the effrontery which is too often the mask of cowardice, nor count as fear the gentle mien that is frequently the guise of sterling man- hood. Seek always to have the full and perfect meas- ure of him who craves from you the honor of the knight- ly spur. In all you do, be just and yet be merciful. Re- member,
"Wise were the kings wlio never chose a friend
till they had unmasked his soul
And seen the bottom of his deepest thoughts."
There is present an Esquire who seeks to stand upon the summit of Pythian knighthood. Avouching his readi- ness to undertake any duty, to undergo any test, which, your wisdom may prescribe, he awaits with confidence your decree. Ere he is brought before you, I have but this to say : To be held worthy of the high honor that he
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The usual oath is taken and the explanation of the symbols, signs, etc., given.
The principal objectionable features, for reason of which the Catholic Church has forbidden its members to join the Knights of Pythias, and demanded a with- drawal of those who had joined it, are :
First, the oath of secrecy by which the member binds himself to keep secret whatever concerns the doings of Uie Order, even from tliose in Church and State who have a riglit to know, under certain conditions, wliat the subjects are doing.
Secondly, this oath binds the member to blind obedi- ence, which is symbolized by the test. Such an obedi- ence is against the law of man's nature, and against all liuman and divine law.
Thirdly, Christ is not the teacher and model in the rule of life, but the Pagan Pythagoras and the Pagans Damon, Pythias and Dionysius.
In 1895, a large number of German Knights of Pythias, on account of a question as to the use of the German language in tlie meetings, seceded and formed the "Improved Order of Knights of Pythias."
There are two organizations of wives, daughters, sis- ters and motliers of Knights of Pythias, the Path bone Sisters, and tlie Pythian Sisterhood. The Order is ex- tending all over the world.