‘And in the seventh place, strive,’ said the tyler, ‘through constant contemplation of death to bring yourself to think of it not as a dreaded enemy but as a friend . . . who delivers the soul grown weary in the labours of virtue from this life of torment and leads it to a place of recompense and peace.’
‘Yes, that’s as it should be,’ thought Pierre as the tyler spoke these words and once again left him alone for contemplation. ‘That’s as it should be, but I’m so weak that I still love this life, and its meaning is only now being gradually revealed to me.’ Pierre could remember five of the other virtues and as he counted them out on his fingers he felt he already possessed them in his soul:
The third time the tyler came back more quickly, and asked Pierre whether he was still determined to proceed and ready to submit to anything that might be demanded of him.
‘I am ready for anything,’ said Pierre.
‘I must further inform you,’ said the tyler, ‘that our order conveys its teaching not by word alone but by other means that may be seen to work upon the true seeker after wisdom and virtue more powerfully than mere words. This temple and all that you see therein should already have suggested to your heart, if it be sincere, more than words can say, and it may be that in your coming initiation you will see further enlightenment of this kind. Our order reflects the practice of ancient societies which revealed their teaching in hieroglyphs. The word “hieroglyph”,’ said the tyler, ‘is a term used to denote something beyond the senses that possesses qualities similar to the thing that it symbolizes.’
Pierre knew full well what a hieroglyph was but he dared not speak. He listened to the tyler in silence and what he heard made him think that his ordeal was about to begin.
‘If you are fully resolved, I must proceed to your initiation,’ said the tyler, coming closer to Pierre. ‘As a sign of your generosity I now ask you to give me everything you have that is of value.’
‘But I have nothing on me,’ said Pierre, imagining he was being asked to give up everything he owned.
‘Anything you have on you: your watch, money, rings . . .’
Pierre quickly took out his purse and his watch, taking ages to get the wedding ring off his fat finger. This done, the freemason said, ‘As a sign of your obedience I now ask you to undress.’ Pierre took off his coat, waistcoat and left boot as instructed by the tyler. The mason pulled Pierre’s shirt open over his left breast and pulled his left trouser-leg up above the knee. Pierre made as if to remove his right boot and tuck both trouser-legs up to save this stranger the trouble, but the mason told him it wasn’t necessary and gave him a slipper for his left foot. With a childlike grin of embarrassment tinged with doubt and self-mockery spreading over his face in spite of himself, Pierre stood there with his legs wide apart and his arms dangling down, facing the tyler and waiting for further instructions.
‘And finally, as a sign of your sincerity, I ask you to reveal to me your chief temptation,’ he said.
‘Temptation! I used to have so many,’ said Pierre.
‘That temptation which more than any other has caused you to stumble on the path of virtue,’ said the freemason.
Pierre paused, searching for a response.
‘Wine? Gluttony? Frivolity? Sloth? Bad temper? Malevolence? Women?’ He ran through his vices, weighing them in the balance and not knowing which one should have priority.
‘Women,’ said Pierre in a low voice, scarcely audible. The mason neither moved nor spoke for some time after this response. Eventually he walked up to Pierre, picked up the scarf lying on the table, and blindfolded him with it again.
‘For the last time I say to you: turn all your attention in upon yourself, fetter your feelings and look for bliss not in your passions but in your heart. The source of all bliss is not without, it is within us . . .’
Pierre was beginning to sense this quickening source of all bliss welling up within him and flooding his soul with joyous emotion.
CHAPTER 4
