_Fellowcrafts_
I
Having followed the Free-masons over a long period of history, it is
now in order to give some account of the ethics, organization, laws,
emblems, and workings of their lodges. Such a study is at once easy
and difficult by turns, owing to the mass of material, and to the
further fact that in the nature of things much of the work of a secret
order is not, and has never been, matter for record. By this
necessity, not a little must remain obscure, but it is hoped that even
those not of the order may derive a definite notion of the principles
and practices of the old Craft-masonry, from which the Masonry of
today is descended. At least, such a sketch will show that, from times
of old, the order of Masons has been a teacher of morality, charity,
and truth, unique in its genius, noble in its spirit, and benign in
its influence.
Taking its ethical teaching first, we have only to turn to the _Old
Charges_ or _Constitutions_ of the order, with their quaint blending
of high truth and homely craft-law, to find the moral basis of
universal Masonry. These old documents were a part of the earliest
ritual of the order, and were recited or read to every young man at
the time of his initiation as an Entered Apprentice. As such, they
rehearsed the legends, laws, and ethics of the craft for his
information, and, as we have seen, they insisted upon the antiquity of
the order, as well as its service to mankind--a fact peculiar to
Masonry, _for no other order has ever claimed such a legendary or
traditional history_. Having studied that legendary record and its
value as history, it remains to examine the moral code laid before the
candidate who, having taken a solemn oath of loyalty and secrecy, was
instructed in his duties as an Apprentice and his conduct as a man.
What that old code lacked in subtlety is more than made up in
simplicity, and it might all be stated in the words of the Prophet:
"To do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly before God,"--the old
eternal moral law, founded in faith, tried by time, and approved as
valid for men of every clime, creed, and condition.
Turning to the _Regius MS_, we find fifteen "points" or rules set
forth for the guidance of Fellowcrafts, and as many for the rule of
Master Masons.[83] Later the number was reduced to nine, but so far
from being an abridgment, it was in fact an elaboration of the
original code; and by the time we reach the _Roberts_ and _Watson_ MSS
a similar set of requirements for Apprentices had been adopted--or
rather recorded, for they had been in use long before. It will make
for clearness if we reverse the order and take the Apprentice charge
first, as it shows what manner of men were admitted to the order. No
man was made a Mason save by his own free choice, and he had to prove
himself a freeman of lawful age, of legitimate birth, of sound body,
of clean habits, and of good repute, else he was not eligible. Also,
he had to bind himself by solemn oath to serve under rigid rules for a
period of seven years, vowing absolute obedience--for the old-time
Lodge was a school in which young men studied, not only the art of
building and its symbolism, but the seven sciences as well. At first
the Apprentice was little more than a servant, doing the most menial
work, his period of endenture being at once a test of his character
and a training for his work. If he proved himself trustworthy and
proficient, his wages were increased, albeit his rules of conduct were
never relaxed. How austere the discipline was may be seen from a
summary of its rules:
Confessing faith in God, an Apprentice vowed to honor the Church, the
State, and the Master under whom he served, agreeing not to absent
himself from the service of the order, by day or night, save with the
license of the Master. He must be honest, truthful, upright, faithful
in keeping the secrets of the craft, or the confidence of the Master,
or of any Free-mason, when communicated to him as such. Above all he
must be chaste, never committing adultery or fornication, and he must
not marry, or contract himself to any woman, during his
apprenticeship. He must be obedient to the Master without argument or
murmuring, respectful to all Free-masons, courteous, avoiding obscene
or uncivil speech, free from slander, dissension, or dispute. He must
not haunt or frequent any tavern or ale-house, or so much as go into
them except it be upon an errand of the Master or with his consent,
using neither cards, dice, nor any unlawful game, "Christmas time
excepted." He must not steal anything even to the value of a penny, or
suffer it to be done, or shield anyone guilty of theft, but report the
fact to the Master with all speed.
After seven long years the Apprentice brought his masterpiece to the
Lodge--or, in earlier times, to the annual Assembly[84]--and on strict
trial and due examination was declared a Master. Thereupon he ceased
to be a pupil and servant, passed into the ranks of Fellowcrafts, and
became a free man capable, for the first time in his life, of earning
his living and choosing his own employer. Having selected a Mark[85]
by which his work could be identified, he could then take his kit of
tools and travel as a Master of his art, receiving the wages of a
Master--not, however, without first reaffirming his vows of honesty,
truthfulness, fidelity, temperance, and chastity, and assuming added
obligations to uphold the honor of the order. Again he was sworn not
to lay bare, nor to tell to any man what he heard or saw done in the
Lodge, and to keep the secrets of a fellow Mason as inviolably as his
own--unless such a secret imperiled the good name of the craft. He
furthermore promised to act as mediator between his Master and his
Fellows, and to deal justly with both parties. If he saw a Fellow
hewing a stone which he was in a fair way to spoil, he must help him
without loss of time, if able to do so, that the whole work be not
ruined. Or if he met a fellow Mason in distress, or sorrow, he must
aid him so far as lay within his power. In short, he must live in
justice and honor with all men, especially with the members of the
order, "that the bond of mutual charity and love may augment and
continue."
Still more binding, if possible, were the vows of a Fellowcraft when
he was elevated to the dignity of Master of the Lodge or of the Work.
Once more he took solemn oath to keep the secrets of the order
unprofaned, and more than one old MS quotes the Golden Rule as the law
of the Master's office. He must be steadfast, trusty, and true; pay
his Fellows truly; take no bribe; and as a judge stand upright. He
must attend the annual Assembly, unless disabled by illness, if within
fifty miles--the distance varying, however, in different MSS. He must
be careful in admitting Apprentices, taking only such as are fit both
physically and morally, and keeping none without assurance that he
would stay seven years in order to learn his craft. He must be patient
with his pupils, instruct them diligently, encourage them with
increased pay, and not permit them to work at night, "unless in the
pursuit of knowledge, which shall be a sufficient excuse." He must be
wise and discreet, and undertake no work he cannot both perform and
complete equally to the profit of his employer and the craft. Should a
Fellow be overtaken by error, he must be gentle, skilful, and
forgiving, seeking rather to help than to hurt, abjuring scandal and
bitter words. He must not attempt to supplant a Master of the Lodge or
of the Work, or belittle his work, but recommend it and assist him in
improving it. He must be liberal in charity to those in need, helping
a Fellow who has fallen upon evil lot, giving him work and wages for
at least a fortnight, or if he has no work, "relieve him with money to
defray his reasonable charges to the next Lodge." For the rest, he
must in all ways act in a manner befitting the nobility of his office
and his order.
Such were some of the laws of the moral life by which the old
Craft-masonry sought to train its members, not only to be good
workmen, but to be good and true men, serving their Fellows; to which,
as the Rawlinson MS tells us, "divers new articles have been added by
the free choice and good consent and best advice of the Perfect and
True Masons, Masters, and Brethren." If, as an ethic of life, these
laws seem simple and rudimentary, they are none the less fundamental,
and they remain to this day the only gate and way by which those must
enter who would go up to the House of the Lord. As such they are great
and saving things to lay to heart and act upon, and if Masonry taught
nothing else its title to the respect of mankind would be clear. They
have a double aspect: first, the building of a spiritual man upon
immutable moral foundations; and second, the great and simple
religious faith in the Fatherhood of God, the Brotherhood of man, and
the Life Eternal, taught by Masonry from its earliest history to this
good day. Morality and theistic religion--upon these two rocks
Masonry has always stood, and they are the only basis upon which man
may ever hope to rear the spiritual edifice of his life, even to the
capstone thereof.
II
Imagine, now, a band of these builders, bound together by solemn vows
and mutual interests, journeying over the most abominable roads toward
the site selected for an abbey or cathedral. Traveling was attended
with many dangers, and the company was therefore always well armed,
the disturbed state of the country rendering such a precaution
necessary. Tools and provisions belonging to the party were carried on
pack-horses or mules, placed in the center of the convoy, in charge of
keepers. The company consisted of a Master Mason directing the work,
Fellows of the craft, and Apprentices serving their time. Besides
these we find subordinate laborers, not of the Lodge though in it,
termed layers, setters, tilers, and so forth. Masters and Fellows wore
a distinctive costume, which remained almost unchanged in its fashion
for no less than three centuries.[86] Withal, it was a serious
company, but in nowise solemn, and the tedium of the journey was no
doubt beguiled by song, story, and the humor incident to travel.
"Wherever they came," writes Mr. Hope in his _Essay on Architecture_,
"in the suite of missionaries, or were called by the natives, or
arrived of their own accord, to seek employment, they appeared headed
by a chief surveyor, who governed the whole troop, and named one man
out of every ten, under the name of warden, to overlook the other
nine, set themselves to building temporary huts for their habitation
around the spot where the work was to be carried on, regularly
organized their different departments, fell to work, sent for fresh
supplies of their brethren as the object demanded, and, when all was
finished, again they raised their encampment, and went elsewhere to
undertake other work."
Here we have a glimpse of the methods of the Free-masons, of their
organization, almost military in its order and dispatch, and of their
migratory life; although they had a more settled life than this
ungainly sentence allows, for long time was required for the building
of a great cathedral. Sometimes, it would seem, they made special
contracts with the inhabitants of a town where they were to erect a
church, containing such stipulations as, that a Lodge covered with
tiles should be built for their accommodation, and that every laborer
should be provided with a white apron of a peculiar kind of leather
and gloves to shield the hands from stone and slime.[87] At all
events, the picture we have is that of a little community or village
of workmen, living in rude dwellings, with a Lodge room at the center
adjoining a slowly rising cathedral--the Master busy with his plans
and the care of his craft; Fellows shaping stones for walls, arches,
or spires; Apprentices fetching tools or mortar, and when necessary,
tending the sick, and performing all offices of a similar nature.
Always the Lodge was the center of interest and activity, a place of
labor, of study, of devotion, as well as the common room for the
social life of the order. Every morning, as we learn from the Fabric
Rolls of York Minster, began with devotion, followed by the directions
of the Master for the work of the day, which no doubt included study
of the laws of the art, plans of construction, and the mystical
meaning of ornaments and emblems. Only Masons were in attendance at
such times, the Lodge being closed to all others, and guarded by a
Tiler[88] against "the approach of cowans[89] and eavesdroppers." Thus
the work of each day was begun, moving forward amidst the din and
litter of the hours, until the craft was called from labor to rest and
refreshment; and thus a cathedral was uplifted as a monument to the
Order, albeit the names of the builders are faded and lost. Employed
for years on the same building, and living together in the Lodge, it
is not strange that Free-masons came to know and love one another, and
to have a feeling of loyalty to their craft, unique, peculiar, and
enduring. Traditions of fun and frolic, of song and feast and
gala-day, have floated down to us, telling of a comradeship as joyous
as it was genuine. If their life had hardship and vicissitude, it had
also its grace and charm of friendship, of sympathy, service, and
community of interest, and the joy that comes of devotion to a high
and noble art.
When a Mason wished to leave one Lodge and go elsewhere to work, as he
was free to do when he desired, he had no difficulty in making himself
known to the men of his craft by certain signs, grips, and words.[90]
Such tokens of recognition were necessary to men who traveled afar in
those uncertain days, especially when references or other means of
identification were ofttimes impossible. All that many people knew
about the order was that its members had a code of secret signs, and
that no Mason need be friendless or alone when other Masons were
within sight or hearing; so that the very name of the craft came to
stand for any mode of hidden recognition. Steele, in the _Tatler_,
speaks of a class of people who have "their signs and tokens like
Free-masons." There were more than one of these signs and tokens, as
we are more than once told--in the _Harleian MS_, for example, which
speaks of "words and signs." What they were may not be here discussed,
but it is safe to say that a Master Mason of the Middle Ages, were he
to return from the land of shadows, could perhaps make himself known
as such in a Fellowcraft Lodge of today. No doubt some things would
puzzle him at first, but he would recognize the officers of the Lodge,
its form, its emblems, its great altar Light, and its moral truth
taught in symbols. Besides, he could tell us, if so minded, much that
we should like to learn about the craft in the olden times, its hidden
mysteries, the details of its rites, and the meaning of its symbols
when the poetry of building was yet alive.
III
This brings us to one of the most hotly debated questions in Masonic
history--the question as to the number and nature of the degrees made
use of in the old craft lodges. Hardly any other subject has so deeply
engaged the veteran archaeologists of the order, and while it ill
becomes any one glibly to decide such an issue, it is at least
permitted us, after studying all of value that has been written on
both sides, to sum up what seems to be the truth arrived at.[91]
While such a thing as a written record of an ancient degree--aside
from the _Old Charges_, which formed a part of the earliest
rituals--is unthinkable, we are not left altogether to the mercy of
conjecture in a matter so important. Cesare Cantu tells us that the
Comacine Masters "were called together in the Loggie by a grand-master
to treat of affairs common to the order, to receive novices, and
_confer superior degrees on others_."[92] Evidence of a sort similar
is abundant, but not a little confusion will be avoided if the
following considerations be kept in mind:
First, that during its purely operative period the ritual of Masonry
was naturally less formal and ornate than it afterwards became, from
the fact that its very life was a kind of ritual and its symbols were
always visibly present in its labor. By the same token, as it ceased
to be purely operative, and others not actually architects were
admitted to its fellowship, of necessity its rites became more
formal--"_very formall_," as Dugdale said in 1686,[93]--portraying in
ceremony what had long been present in its symbolism and practice.
Second, that with the decline of the old religious art of
building--for such it was in very truth--some of its symbolism lost
its luster, its form surviving but its meaning obscured, if not
entirely faded. Who knows, for example--even with the Klein essay on
_The Great Symbol_[94] in hand--what Pythagoras meant by his lesser
and greater Tetractys? That they were more than mathematical theorems
is plain, yet even Plutarch missed their meaning. In the same way,
some of the emblems in our Lodges are veiled, or else wear meanings
invented after the fact, in lieu of deeper meanings hidden, or but
dimly discerned. Albeit, the great emblems still speak in truths
simple and eloquent, and remain to refine, instruct, and exalt.
Third, that when Masonry finally became a purely speculative or
symbolical fraternity, no longer an order of practical builders, its
ceremonial inevitably became more elaborate and imposing--its old
habit and custom, as well as its symbols and teachings, being
enshrined in its ritual. More than this, knowing how "Time the white
god makes all things holy, and what is old becomes religion," it is
no wonder that its tradition became every year more authoritative; so
that the tendency was not, as many have imagined, to add to its
teaching, but to preserve and develop its rich deposit of symbolism,
and to avoid any break with what had come down from the past.
Keeping in mind this order of evolution in the history of Masonry, we
may now state the facts, so far as they are known, as to its early
degrees; dividing it into two periods, the Operative and the
Speculative.[95] An Apprentice in the olden days was "entered" as a
novice of the craft, first, as a purely business proceeding, not
unlike our modern indentures, or articles. Then, or shortly
afterwards--probably at the annual Assembly--there was a ceremony of
initiation making him a Mason--including an oath, the recital of the
craft legend as recorded in the _Old Charges_, instruction in moral
conduct and deportment as a Mason, and the imparting of certain
secrets. At first this degree, although comprising secrets, does not
seem to have been mystic at all, but a simple ceremony intended to
impress upon the mind of the youth the high moral life required of
him. Even Guild-masonry had such a rite of initiation, as Hallam
remarks, and if we may trust the Findel version of the ceremony used
among the German Stone-masons, it was very like the first degree as we
now have it--though one has always the feeling that it was embellished
in the light of later time.[96]
So far there is no dispute, but the question is whether any other
degree was known in the early lodges. Both the probabilities of the
case, together with such facts as we have, indicate that there was
another and higher degree. For, if all the secrets of the order were
divulged to an Apprentice, he could, after working four years, and
just when he was becoming valuable, run away, give himself out as a
Fellow, and receive work and wages as such. If there was only one set
of secrets, this deception might be practiced to his own profit and
the injury of the craft--unless, indeed, we revise all our ideas held
hitherto, and say that his initiation did not take place until he was
out of his articles. This, however, would land us in worse
difficulties later on. Knowing the fondness of the men of the Middle
Ages for ceremony, it is hardly conceivable that the day of all days
when an Apprentice, having worked for seven long years, acquired the
status of a Fellow, was allowed to go unmarked, least of all in an
order of men to whom building was at once an art and an allegory. So
that, not only the exigences of his occupation, but the importance of
the day to a young man, and the spirit of the order, justify such a
conclusion.
Have we any evidence tending to confirm this inference? Most
certainly; so much so that it is not easy to interpret the hints given
in the _Old Charges_ upon any other theory. For one thing, in nearly
all the MSS, from the _Regius Poem_ down, we are told of two rooms or
resorts, the Chamber and the Lodge--sometimes called the Bower and the
Hall--and the Mason was charged to keep the "counsells" proper to each
place. This would seem to imply that an Apprentice had access to the
Chamber or Bower, but not to the Lodge itself--at least not at all
times. It may be argued that the "other counsells" referred to were
merely technical secrets, but that is to give the case away, since
they were secrets held and communicated as such. By natural process,
as the order declined and actual building ceased, _its technical
secrets became ritual secrets_, though they must always have had
symbolical meanings. Further, while we have record of only one
oath--which does not mean that there _was_ only one--signs, tokens,
and words are nearly always spoken of in the plural; and if the
secrets of a Fellowcraft were purely technical--which some of us do
not believe--they were at least accompanied and protected by certain
signs, tokens, and passwords. From this it is clear that the advent of
an Apprentice into the ranks of a Fellow was in fact a degree, or
contained the essentials of a degree, including a separate set of
signs and secrets.
When we pass to the second period, and men of wealth and learning who
were not actual architects began to enter the order--whether as
patrons of the art or as students and mystics attracted by its
symbolism--other evidences of change appear. They, of course, were not
required to serve a seven year apprenticeship, and they would
naturally be Fellows, not Masters, because they were in no sense
masters of the craft. Were these Fellows made acquainted with the
secrets of an Apprentice? If so, then the two degrees were either
conferred in one evening, or else--what seems to have been the
fact--they were welded into one; since we hear of men being made
Masons in a single evening.[97] Customs differed, no doubt, in
different Lodges, some of which were chiefly operative, or made up of
men who had been working Masons, with only a sprinkling of men not
workmen who had been admitted; while others were purely symbolical
Lodges as far back as 1645. Naturally in Lodges of the first kind the
two degrees were kept separate, and in the second they were
merged--the one degree becoming all the while more elaborate.
Gradually the men who had been Operative Masons became fewer in the
Lodges--chiefly those of higher position, such as master builders,
architects, and so on--until the order became a purely speculative
fraternity, having no longer any trade object in view.
Not only so, but throughout this period of transition, and even
earlier, we hear intimations of "the Master's Part," and those hints
increase in number as the office of Master of the Work lost its
practical aspect after the cathedral-building period. What was the
Master's Part? Unfortunately, while the number of degrees may be
indicated, their nature and details cannot be discussed without grave
indiscretion; but nothing is plainer than that _we need not go outside
Masonry itself to find the materials out of which all three degrees,
as they now exist, were developed_.[98] Even the French Companionage,
or Sons of Solomon, had the legend of the Third Degree long before
1717, when some imagine it to have been invented. If little or no
mention of it is found among English Masons before that date, that is
no reason for thinking that it was unknown. _Not until 1841 was it
known to have been a secret of the Companionage in France, so deeply
and carefully was it hidden._[99] Where so much is dim one may not be
dogmatic, but what seems to have taken place in 1717 was, not the
_addition_ of a third degree made out of whole cloth, but the
_conversion_ of two degrees into three.
That is to say, Masonry is too great an institution to have been made
in a day, much less by a few men, but was a slow evolution through
long time, unfolding its beauty as it grew. Indeed, it was like one of
its own cathedrals upon which one generation of builders wrought and
vanished, and another followed, until, amidst vicissitudes of time and
change, of decline and revival, the order itself became a temple of
Freedom and Fraternity--its history a disclosure of its innermost soul
in the natural process of its transition from actual architecture to
its "more noble and glorious purpose." For, since what was evolved
from Masonry must always have been involved in it--not something alien
added to it from extraneous sources, as some never tire of trying to
show--we need not go outside the order itself to learn what Masonry
is, certainly not to discover its motif and its genius; its later and
more elaborate form being only an expansion and exposition of its
inherent nature and teaching. Upon this fact the present study insists
with all emphasis, as over against those who go hunting in every odd
nook and corner to find whence Masonry came, and where it got its
symbols and degrees.
FOOTNOTES:
[83] Our present craft nomenclature is all wrong; the old order was
first Apprentice, then Master, then Fellowcraft--mastership being, not
a degree conferred, but a reward of skill as a workman and of merit as
a man. The confusion today is due, no doubt, to the custom of the
German Guilds, where a Fellowcraft had to serve an additional two years
as a journeyman before becoming a Master. No such restriction was known
in England. Indeed, the reverse was true, and it was not the
Fellowcraft but the Apprentice who prepared his masterpiece, and if it
was accepted, he became a Master. Having won his mastership, he was
entitled to become a Fellowcraft--that is, a peer and fellow of the
fraternity which hitherto he had only served. Also, we must distinguish
between a Master and the Master of the Work, now represented by the
Master of the Lodge. Between a Master and the Master of the Work there
was no difference, of course, except an accidental one; they were both
Masters and Fellows. Any Master (or Fellow) could become a Master of
the Work at any time, provided he was of sufficient skill and had the
luck to be chosen as such either by the employer, or the Lodge, or
both.
[84] The older MSS indicate that initiations took place, for the most
part, at the annual Assemblies, which were bodies not unlike the Grand
Lodges of today, presided over by a President--a Grand Master in fact,
though not in name. Democratic in government, as Masonry has always
been, they received Apprentices, examined candidates for mastership,
tried cases, adjusted disputes, and regulated the craft; but they were
also occasions of festival and social good will. At a later time they
declined, and the functions of initiation more and more reverted to the
Lodges.
[85] The subject of Mason's Marks is most interesting, particularly
with reference to the origin and growth of Gothic architecture, but too
intricate to be entered upon here. As for example, an essay entitled
"Scottish Mason's Marks Compared with Those of Other Countries," by
Prof. T.H. Lewis, _British Archaeological Association_, 1888, and the
theory there advanced that some great unknown architect introduced
Gothic architecture from the East, as shown by the difference in
Mason's Marks as compared with those of the Norman period. (Also
proceedings of _A. Q. C._, iii, 65-81.)
[86] _History of Masonry_, Steinbrenner. It consisted of a short black
tunic--in summer made of linen, in winter of wool--open at the sides,
with a gorget to which a hood was attached; round the waist was a
leathern girdle, from which depended a sword and a satchel. Over the
tunic was a black scapulary, similar to the habit of a priest, tucked
under the girdle when they were working, but on holydays allowed to
hang down. No doubt this garment also served as a coverlet at night, as
was the custom of the Middle Ages, sheets and blankets being luxuries
enjoyed only by the rich and titled (_History of Agriculture and Prices
in England_, T. Rogers). On their heads they wore large felt or straw
hats, and tight leather breeches and long boots completed the garb.
[87] Gloves were more widely used in the olden times than now, and the
practice of giving them as presents was common in mediaeval times.
Often, when the harvest was over, gloves were distributed to the
laborers who gathered it (_History of Prices in England_, Rogers), and
richly embroidered gloves formed an offering gladly accepted by
princes. Indeed, the bare hand was regarded as a symbol of hostility,
and the gloved hand a token of peace and goodwill. For Masons, however,
the white gloves and apron had meanings hardly guessed by others, and
their symbolism remains to this day with its simple and eloquent
appeal. (See chapter on "Masonic Clothing and Regalia," in _Things a
Freemason Should Know_, by J.W. Crowe, an interesting article by
Rylands, _A. Q. C._, vol. v, and the delightful essay on "Gloves," by
Dr. Mackey, in his _Symbolism of Freemasonry_.) Not only the tools of
the builder, but his clothing, had moral meaning.
[88] _Tiler_--like the word _cable-tow_--is a word peculiar to the
language of Masonry, and means one who guards the Lodge to see that
only Masons are within ear-shot. It probably derives from the Middle
Ages when the makers of tiles for roofing were also of migratory habits
(_History of Prices in England_, Rogers), and accompanied the
Free-masons to perform their share of the work of covering buildings.
Some tiler was appointed to act as sentinel to keep off intruders, and
hence, in course of time, the name of Tiler came to be applied to any
Mason who guarded the Lodge.
[89] Much has been written of the derivation and meaning of the word
_cowan_, some finding its origin in a Greek term meaning "dog." (See
"An Inquiry Concerning Cowans," by D. Ramsay, _Review of Freemasonry_,
vol. i.) But its origin is still to seek, unless we accept it as an old
Scotch word of contempt (_Dictionary of Scottish Language_, Jamieson).
Sir Walter Scott uses it as such in Rob Roy, "she doesna' value a
Cawmil mair as a cowan" (chap. xxix). Masons used the word to describe
a "dry-diker, one who built without cement," or a Mason without the
word. Unfortunately, we still have cowans in this sense--men who try to
be Masons without using the cement of brotherly love. If only they
_could_ be kept out! Blackstone describes an eavesdropper as "a common
nuisance punishable by fine." Legend says that the old-time Masons
punished such prying persons, who sought to learn their signs and
secrets, by holding them under the eaves until the water ran in at the
neck and out at the heels. What penalty was inflicted in dry weather,
we are not informed. At any rate, they had contempt for a man who tried
to make use of the signs of the craft without knowing its art and
ethics.
[90] This subject is most fascinating. Even in primitive ages there
seems to have been a kind of universal sign-language employed, at
times, by all peoples. Among widely separated tribes the signs were
very similar, owing, perhaps, to the fact that they were natural
gestures of greeting, of warning, or of distress. There is intimation
of this in the Bible, when the life of Ben-Hadad was saved by a sign
given (I Kings, 20:30-35). Even among the North American Indians a
sign-code of like sort was known (_Indian Masonry_, R.C. Wright, chap.
iii). "Mr. Ellis, by means of his knowledge as a Master Mason, actually
passed himself into the sacred part or adytum of one of the temples of
India" (_Anacalypsis_, G. Higgins, vol. i, 767). See also the
experience of Haskett Smith among the Druses, already referred to (_A.
Q. C._, iv, 11). Kipling has a rollicking story with the Masonic
sign-code for a theme, entitled _The Man Who Would be King_, and his
imagination is positively uncanny. If not a little of the old
sign-language of the race lives to this day in Masonic Lodges, it is
due not only to the exigencies of the craft, but also to the instinct
of the order for the old, the universal, the _human_; its genius for
making use of all the ways and means whereby men may be brought to know
and love and help one another.
[91] Once more it is a pleasure to refer to the transactions of the
Quatuor Coronati Lodge of Research, whose essays and discussions of
this issue, as of so many others, are the best survey of the whole
question from all sides. The paper by J.W. Hughan arguing in behalf of
only one degree in the old time lodges, and a like paper by G.W. Speth
in behalf of two degrees, with the materials for the third, cover the
field quite thoroughly and in full light of all the facts (_A. Q. C._,
vol. x, 127; vol. xi, 47). As for the Third Degree, that will be
considered further along.
[92] _Storia di Como_, vol. i, 440.
[93] _Natural History of Wiltshire_, by John Aubrey, written, but not
published, in 1686.
[94] _A. Q. C._, vol. x, 82.
[95] Roughly speaking, the year 1600 may be taken as a date dividing
the two periods. Addison, writing in the _Spectator_, March 1, 1711,
draws the following distinction between a speculative and an operative
member of a trade or profession: "I live in the world rather as a
spectator of mankind, than as one of the species, by which means I have
made myself a speculative statesman, soldier, merchant, and _artisan_,
without ever meddling with any practical part of life." By a
Speculative Mason, then, is meant a man who, though not an actual
architect, sought and obtained membership among Free-masons. Such men,
scholars and students, began to enter the order as early as 1600, if
not earlier. If by Operative Mason is meant one who attached no moral
meaning to his tools, there were none such in the olden time--all
Masons, even those in the Guilds, using their tools as moral emblems in
a way quite unknown to builders of our day. 'Tis a pity that this light
of poetry has faded from our toil, and with it the joy of work.
[96] _History of Masonry_, p. 66.
[97] For a single example, the _Diary_ of Elias Ashmole, under date of
1646.
[98] Time out of mind it has been the habit of writers, both within the
order and without, to treat Masonry as though it were a kind of
agglomeration of archaic remains and platitudinous moralizings, made up
of the heel-taps of Operative legend and the fag-ends of Occult lore.
Far from it! If this were the fact the present writer would be the
first to admit it, but it is not the fact. Instead, the idea that an
order so noble, so heroic in its history, so rich in symbolism, so
skilfully adjusted, and with so many traces of remote antiquity, was
the creation of pious fraud, or else of an ingenious conviviality,
passes the bounds of credulity and enters the domain of the absurd.
This fact will be further emphasized in the chapter following, to which
those are respectfully referred who go everywhere else, _except to
Masonry itself_, to learn what Masonry is and how it came to be.
[99] _Livre du Compagnonnage_, by Agricol Perdiguier, 1841. George
Sand's novel, _Le Compagnon du Tour de France_, was published the same
year. See full account of this order in Gould, _History of Masonry_,
vol. i, chap. v.
ACCEPTED MASONS
/#
_The_ SYSTEM, _as taught in the regular_ LODGES, _may have some
Redundancies or Defects, occasion'd by the Ignorance or Indolence
of the old members. And indeed, considering through what Obscurity
and Darkness the_ MYSTERY _has been deliver'd down; the many
Centuries it has survived; the many Countries and Languages, and_
SECTS _and_ PARTIES _it has run through; we are rather to wonder
that it ever arrived to the present Age, without more
Imperfection. It has run long in muddy Streams, and as it were,
under Ground. But notwithstanding the great Rust it may have
contracted, there is much of the_ OLD FABRICK _remaining: the
essential Pillars of the Building may be discov'd through the
Rubbish, tho' the Superstructure be overrun with Moss and Ivy, and
the Stones, by Length of Time, be disjointed. And therefore, as
the Bust of an_ OLD HERO _is of great Value among the Curious,
tho' it has lost an Eye, the Nose or the Right Hand; so Masonry
with all its Blemishes and Misfortunes, instead of appearing
ridiculous, ought to be receiv'd with some Candor and Esteem, from
a Veneration of its_ ANTIQUITY.
--_Defence of Masonry_, 1730
#/