as 1792 Hall was formally styled Grand Master, and in 1797 he issued a license to thirteen Negroes to “assemble and work” as a lodge in Philadelphia; and there was also at this time a lodge in Providence.  Thus developed in 1808 the “African Grand Lodge” of Boston, afterwards known as “Prince Hall Lodge of Massachusetts”; the second Grand Lodge, called the “First Independent African Grand Lodge of North America in and for the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania,” organized in 1815; and the “Hiram Grand Lodge of Pennsylvania.”

[Footnote 1:  William H. Upton:  Negro Masonry, Cambridge, 1899, 10.]

Something of the interest of the Masons in their people, and the calm judgment that characterized their procedure, may be seen from the words of their leader, Prince Hall.[1] Speaking in 1797, and having in mind the revolution in Hayti and recent indignities inflicted upon the race in Boston, he said: 

[Footnote 1:  “A Charge Delivered to the African Lodge, June 24, 1797, at Menotomy.  By the Right Worshipful Prince Hall.” (Boston?) 1797.]

When we hear of the bloody wars which are now in the world, and thousands of our fellowmen slain; fathers and mothers bewailing the loss of their sons; wives for the loss of their husbands; towns and cities burnt and destroyed; what must be the heartfelt sorrow and distress of these poor and unhappy people!  Though we can not help them, the distance being so great, yet we may sympathize with them in their troubles, and mingle a tear of sorrow with them, and do as we are exhorted to—­weep with those that weep....

Now, my brethren, as we see and experience that all things here are frail and changeable and nothing here to be depended upon:  Let us seek those things which are above, which are sure and steadfast, and unchangeable, and at the same time let us pray to Almighty God, while we remain in the tabernacle, that he would give us the grace and patience and strength to bear up under all our troubles, which at this day God knows we have our share.  Patience I say, for were we not possessed of a great measure of it you could not bear up under the daily insults you meet with in the streets of Boston; much more on public days of recreation, how are you shamefully abused, and that at such a degree, that you may truly be said to carry your lives in your hands; and the arrows of death are flying about your heads; helpless old women have their clothes torn off their backs, even to the exposing of their nakedness; and by whom are these disgraceful and abusive actions committed?  Not by the men born and bred in Boston, for they are better bred; but by a mob or horde of shameless, low-lived, envious, spiteful persons, some of them not long since, servants in gentlemen’s kitchens, scouring knives, tending horses, and driving chaise.  ’Twas said by a gentleman who saw that filthy behavior in the Common, that in all the places he had been in he never saw so cruel behavior in all his life, and that a