The funeral ceremonies, the next day, were conducted by myself. The strange peculiarities of the occasion added a mournful interest to the impressive truths of the ritual. A large congregation had assembled. Near by, and surrounding the grave, stood the little band of brethren, linked by an indissoluble bond to him for whom they were now performing the last sad office. With clasped hands and uncovered heads they reverently listened to the solemn language which in that far-off land committed one of their number to his mother earth; while farther away, and encircling them, stood a curious multitude, whose eager gaze betrayed that they there for the first time beheld a Masonic burial ceremony. Among this latter number might be seen many whose daily lives were filled with deeds of violence and crime,—who mayhap at the moment might be meditating murder and robbery,—who, for the first time in many years, were listening to language which recalled the innocence of boyhood, the early teachings of parents, and hopefully pointed the way to an eternity of unmixed enjoyment. How strange it seemed to see this large assemblage, all armed with revolvers and bowie-knives, standing silently, respectfully, around the grave of a stranger, their very features,—distorted by the lines which their hardened lives had planted,—now saddened by a momentary fleeting thought of the grave and immortality. Nor was this all. They learned from what they saw that here was an association, bound together by bonds of brotherly love, that would stand by and protect all its members in the hour of danger. They saw the scroll deposited which signified so plainly that death alone could break a link in the mystic chain which bound them together. They saw each brother drop the evergreen as a symbol of the surrender of him they mourned to the eternal care of a higher power. And while the brethren, as they regarded each other in the light of their strong obligations, felt that in themselves there was a power equal to the necessities of their exposed condition, we may reasonably suppose that the ruffians who had marked them for ultimate destruction felt that a new and formidable adversary had thrown itself across their bloody pathway. The ceremonies were conducted to a peaceful conclusion, and the assembly quietly dispersed. But from this time onward, the Masons met often for counsel. Among them there was no lack of confidence, and very soon they began to consider measures necessary for their protection. These meetings were carefully watched by the roughs, but they were quietly told that the Masons met to prepare for organizing a lodge. This threw them off their guard, and they continued in their lawless course. As a part of the burial service, I read the first ten verses of the thirty-seventh chapter of the Book of the Prophet Ezekiel, in these words: