|
ENTERED APPRENTICE
The Common
Gavel, used by operative Masons to break off the corners of rough
stones, is in speculative Freemasonry a symbol of power.
The Twenty-four-inch gauge is an instrument used by operative Masons
to measure and lay out their work, but in speculative Freemasonry we
are taught by its symbolism to divide our time into three equal
parts, whereby are found eight hours for refreshment and sleep,
eight for our usual vocations and eight for the service of God and
humanity. There is an object in view and an end to be attained. It
is, therefore, a symbol of purpose.
Power is the ability to act so as to produce change land cause
event. Purpose is the idea or object kept before the mind as an end
of effort or action.
Modern science has uncovered so much power that thoughtful men fear
it will work the destruction of civilization unless a commensurate
humane purpose is developed for its direction.
The day and generation in which we live pulsates with power, the
world is held in place by dynamic oppositions, the universe is
vibrant with force and man is a part of the divine energy. The
greatest think in God's created universe is a man. In him, according
to the teachings of Freemasonry, is the eternal flame, the
indestructible image of the living God. The power of man cannot be
defined, cannot be fenced in, because it transcends all finite
standards of measurement.
Power directed by a bad purpose is positive destruction. Alexander
the Great was the most powerful man of antiquity. With an army of
35,000 men he flung himself against a Persian horde of over one
million. He conquered the world, but could not master himself.
Intent on lust and luxury, dissipation and destruction, his purposes
were bad, and at the age of forty-two he died in a drunken fit.
Charles the First of England insisted on the divine right of kings.
he had his courts decree that the King could do no wrong, filled the
Tower of London with political prisoners, tortured and decapitated
his enemies, claimed the right of life and death over his subjects,
and exercised the unlimited power of an absolute monarch. His
purposes were bad, and under Oliver Cromwell his career was
canceled, the executioner swung an axe and the head of Charles the
first rolled in the dust.
These were unusual men occupying exceptional positions, but the
power of destruction is terrific in the most ordinary life. Czolgoez,
the polish anarchist, was a man of a low order in the social scale,
without wealth, without influence, without education; from the
casual viewpoint ignorant, insignificant and weak. His mind was the
breeding ground of crazy purposes, but he had sufficient destructive
power to shoot William McKinley and assassinate the Chief Magistrate
of the greatest nation on earth.
Power directed by a good purpose is constructive, and results in
achievement. It keeps the cars on the tracks and the wires in the
air, it turns the wheels of man's industry and carries the commerce
of continents as upon a mighty shoulder.
Warren Hastings was born in 1732; his mother was a servant girl who
died when the baby was two days old; his father deserted him, so he
grew up as a charity child. He had a hungry mind and obtained an
education as best he could. When eighteen years of age he shipped
for India, working his own passage. He had a purpose in his life and
there came a power that enabled him to establish the Bengal Asiatic
Society, to found colleges out of his own funds and in his own name.
Disraeli said English supremacy in India was the direct result of
this man's work. Today the memory of Warren Hastings is linked with
the greatness of the British Empire.
David Livingstone was a humble Scotchman, the son of a weaver and
himself a worker at the spinning wheel. Into his soul there came a
great purpose of life, and he went to South Africa as a missionary.
He was frail of body, never physically strong, but with the purpose
there came to him a power to brave danger and endure privations. For
a period of twenty years he blazed a trail of light through a dark
continent, destroyed the slave trade in negroes, and convinced the
world that the salvation of Africa was a white man's job. In that
commission he surrendered his life on his knees in supplication to
God. His body was carried thousands of miles by a black man through
jungles, over rivers, across land and seas; last summer at
Westminster Abbey I stood before his mortal remains buried and
honored in the sepulcher of Kings.
In his early manhood Abraham Lincoln stood before a slave market in
New Orleans. Upon the block was a young woman, stripped to the
waist. he heard the auctioneer describe her fine points and estimate
her value. He became conscious, not simply of a black form, but of
life divinely given. His soul responded to the challenge of a
supreme purpose and he said, "If I have a chance to strike this
institution I will strike it hard." Through the years there came to
him the power to blaze out the path and light up the way for a new
baptism of human freedom, finally to seal that purpose with a
martyr's blood and ascend to the throne of God with four million
broken fetters in his hands. Now the whole world joins in a
myriad-voiced chorus of love and honor to his memory. In every land
and under every clime he is exalted and glorified as a mighty
champion of human rights.
History preserves in the clear amber of immortality the record of
men, who, set on fire by some sublime purpose, dedicate the power of
their lives to its prosecution.
The lesson is definite and practical. The twenty-four-inch gauge and
the common gavel speak to every Mason the language of constructive
purpose land personal power. They mean that a Mason should cherish
his ideals, the beauty that forms in the mind, the music that stirs
in his heart, the glory that drapes his purest purpose, for out of
these things he has the power to build for himself la new world in
which to live.
FELLOWCRAFT
The Level is an instrument used by operative Masons to prove
horizontals. It is trite to say that it is a symbol of equality. The
Declaration of American Independence proclaims that all men are
"created equal." With most of us this is a glittering generality,
born of the fact that we are all made of the same dust, share a
common humanity and walk on the level of time until the grim
democracy of death blots out all distinctions, and the scepter of
the prince and the staff of the beggar are laid side by side. It is
apparent that men are not equal, and cannot be equal either in brain
or brawn. There is no common mold by which humanity can be reduced
to a dead level. The world has various demands requiring different
powers; brains to devise great and important undertakings; seers to
dream dreams and behold visions; hands to execute the designs laid
down upon the trestle board; scientists to adorn the mind and reveal
the glories of the universe; poets to inspire the soul and play
music on human heart-strings; pioneers to blaze out the path, and
prophets to light up the way to a land where the rainbow never
fades.
The equality of which the Level is a symbol is one of right and not
one of gift and endowment. It stands for the equal right of every
man to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness; the equal right
of every man to be free from oppression in the development of his
own faculties. It means the destruction of special privilege and
arbitrary limitation.
Freemasonry presided over the birth of our Republic and by the skill
of its leaders wrote into the organic law of this land the immutable
truth of which the Level is a symbol. In a Masonic lodge George
Washington was taught that the Level is a symbol of equality. In the
darkest hour of the Colonial cause, the soldiers, in a moment of
despair and desperation, would have placed on washington's head the
crown of a king. Hayden says, "The overthrow of the rump parliament
by Cromwell, the breaking up of the imbecile directory by Napoleon
were difficult tasks compared to the ease with which the divided
Continental Congress could have been dispersed." Washington was not
fighting for royal rank, nor for coronation. As a champion of human
rights, he was fighting for exact justice and equality of
opportunity, and so the kingship and the crown were rejected with
indignation and contempt.
This symbol means that in a Masonic lodge every man should count for
one, and no man should count for more than one. In a Masonic lodge
the weak and the strong, the rich and the poor, men of diverse
creeds and capacity, meet upon the level, close their eyes to
arbitrary distinctions and reaffirm that Freemasonry regards no man
for his worldly wealth or honors, that the internal and not the
external qualifications of a man recommend him to Freemasonry.
Albert Pike said that Freemasonry was the first apostle of equality.
The truth of the Level is woven into the fabric of our free
institutions. So by Craft and country we are picked and pledged to
the practice of this priceless principle.
The square is an instrument used by operative Masons to square their
work. In speculative Freemasonry it is a symbol of morality.
It is white with a nameless age. Centuries before the Christian era
a negative statement of the Golden Rule was called the principle of
acting on the square. Today the expression "upon the square" stands
for truthful statement and honest dealing.
In a superficial sense, morality is the verdict of the majority. The
elements of time and geography enter into the conception of moral
standards. In some aspects morality is relative; what is moral to
one man may be immoral to another, what is moral in one position may
become immoral when conditions are changed. The word is difficult of
definition, but for everyday use, morality seems to be a correct
correspondence between conscience, circumstance and conduct. Within
definite limits men have a right to prescribe standards of morality
for themselves. In the eyes of the law there are two kinds of wrong.
One is called "malum in se," that is, an act which is evil in itself
and by reason of its inherent nature. The other is "malum prohibitum"
that is, an act which is not naturally an evil, but only so in
consequence of its being forbidden. Except where fundamentals are
involved, it is dangerous for one man to attempt the application of
his standards of morality to another man's life.
I remember reading a story of the great flood that came upon the
Ohio. In the grey of the morning some men saw a house floating down
the river and on its top a human being. Going to the rescue, they
found a woman whose life they wished to save, but she said, "No! In
this house I have three dead babies, I will not desert; I am going
out with them." To most of us that act would verge on the immorality
of suicide; to her it was the expression of a mother's love deeper
than despair and death; her conduct corresponded with her
conscience. We cannot place ourselves in her circumstances and in
charity should refrain from judgment.
Jean Valjean was a great hulk of a man, young and strong, ignorant
and big hearted, tramping the streets of Paris in search of work,
trying to care for a widowed sister and her family of seven little
ones. there was no work to be had. He could not bear to hear the
voices of starving children so be came home late at night, thinking
they would be asleep. But hunger gnawed, and when he came in they
were wide-awake and cried, "Oh, Uncle Jean, have you any work? Oh,
Uncle Jean, we are so hungry!" Madness seized the man; he went to
the nearest bakery, broke the window and stole a loaf of bread. Jean
was arrested and sent to Toulon as a galley slave. In the eyes of
the law he had committed the immoral act of theft. But his eyes saw
pinched-up faces, his ears heard cries of hunger and, regardless of
consequences, his conduct corresponded with his conscience in a deed
of moral heroism.
Back of all the temporary circumstances and conditions of men and
the transitory moral codes evolved by human minds are certain
positive standards of morality which the Divine Intelligence has
impressed on every particle of matter and every pulsation of energy.
They are the same for all mankind, regardless of place, time, race
or religion. Of these standards the trysquare is the Masonic
mouthpiece. Freemasonry is defined as a beautiful system of
morality. It is a woven tapestry of great moral principles and
purposes. Whenever a Mason fails to live up to the best that is in
him, whenever he blots out the divine light of his conscience,
whenever he is recreant to right as God gives him to see the right,
he is false to the trying square of his profession, but by this
symbol Freemasonry teaches a morality that masters manners, molds
mind and makes mighty manhood.
The plumb is an instrument used by operative Masons to try
perpendiculars. In speculative Freemasonry it is a symbol of
righteousness, that is, an upright life before God and man.
Righteousness is not a sanctimonious word. It means rectitude of
conduct, integrity of character, and deathless devotion to truth.
The Psalmist asked, "Lord, who shall abide in thy Tabernacle?" and
this was the answer: "He that walketh uprightly, and worketh
righteousness and speaketh the truth in his heart." When correctly
understood, the truth symbolized by the Plumb constitutes a
challenge to courage.
In the Sixteenth century Giordazo Bruno taught a plurality of
worlds; for this he was accused of heresy. He was tried, convicted
and imprisoned in a dungeon for seven years. He was offered his
liberty if he would recant, but Burno refused to stain the sanctity
of his soul by denying that which he believed to be true. He was
taken from his cell and led to the place of his execution, clad in a
robe on which representations of devils had been painted. He was
chained to a stake, about his body wood was piled, fagots were
lighted and on the spot in Rome where a monument now stands to his
memory he was consumed by the flames. Without the hope of heaven or
the fear of hell he suffered death for the naked truth that was in
him.
The Great Light of Freemasonry contains this promise: "The righteous
shall be in everlasting remembrance." Men of tremendous power, men
of creative genius, have passed into oblivion, but the righteousness
of a pure and noble character, of an unselfish and divinely inspired
life finds perpetuation in the clear amber of immortality. Of that
righteousness the Plumb is a symbol in Freemasonry.
Unrighteousness has wrought the destruction of peoples and
civilizations, but "righteousness exalteth a Nation."
Symbols are not academic playthings, they are intended to provoke
and sustain thought.
Fellowcraft Working Tools present to the mind basic ideas of
equality, morality and righteousness.
MASTER MASON
All the implements of Masonry are assigned to the use of a Master
Mason. The principal one is the Trowel, an instrument used by
operative Masons to spread the cement which unites the building into
one common mass. In speculative Freemasonry it is a symbol of
Brotherhood.
Paul stood on Mars Hill and said to the Athenians, "God hath made of
one blood every nation of men." That is not an expression of
sentiment but the announcement of a fact, whether men desire or deny
it, whether men cherish it in their hearts or crucify it. Man's
ignorance does not change the laws of nature nor vary their
irresistible march. God's laws vindicate themselves; they crush all
who oppose and break into pieces everything that is not in harmony
with their purpose. In the light of this truth it can be safely
asserted that no nation, no civilization can long endure which does
violence to the divine fact of human brotherhood.
Fraternity is the basis of all important movements for the common
good and the general welfare of society.
Freemasonry has been called a "society of friends and brothers
employing symbols to teach the truth." The trowel is a Masonic
symbol of love, and with it we are to spread the cement of brotherly
affection. Next to faith in God, the greatest landmark in
Freemasonry is the "Brotherhood of man." We call each other
"Brother", but we sometimes fail to realize that brotherhood is a
reciprocal relationship. It means that if I am to be a brother to
you, then you must be a brother to me. It is exceedingly practical;
it is not only for grateful gifts and happy hours, but for me when
the soul is sad, when the heart is pierced and pained, when the road
is rough and ragged, and the way seems desolate and drear.
The sentiment of Brotherhood in a man's heart is a futile thing
unless he can find avenues for its external expression. So far as I
have been able to discover, there are three such avenues.
The first is sympathy. Note intellectual sympathy that passes by on
the other side of the street and expresses sorrow, but a red-blooded
sympathy that lifts a man up who has fallen down and speaks the
light of a new hope into his face. Dr. Hillis said that sympathy is
the measure of a man's intellectual power. Sympathy is more than
this; it is the measure of a man's heart-throb and soul vision. The
great painters, poets, preachers, physicians, and patriots, whose
names illuminate the pages of history, excelled their contemporaries
in this one quality of human sympathy.
The second avenue is service. I have read somewhere, most likely in
one of the writings of Dr. Joseph Fort Newton, a statement that all
over the vast temple of Freemasonry, from foundation stone to the
highest pinnacle, is inscribed in letters of living light the divine
truth that labor is love, that work is worship, and that not
indolence but industry is the crowning glory of a man's life whether
he be rich or poor. In all the annals of human progress the men who
have accomplished works which have lived after them, which have come
up through cycles of time a blessing to succeeding generations, had
not before their eyes gold or fame or selfish aims or sordid gain,
but had hung upon the walls of their minds great ideals of human
service to which they remained devoted until the light faded and the
day closed.
The third avenue is sacrifice, the most radiant word in the history
of our race. The sacrifices of father and mother for the education
of the child, the sacrifices of son and daughter for the old folks
back home, the sacrifices of the patriot for the homeland and the
Flag, the sacrifices of the great servants of humanity, have through
the ages made music in the souls of men. He who would take sacrifice
out of human life would steal from maternity its sacred sweetness,
expunge the wrinkles from the face of Abraham Lincoln, and
obliterate the stripes of red in our National Flag.
Every advance in civilization involves a victim. Before the progress
of the world stands an altar and on it a sacrifice.
Back in the centuries Socrates, with a cup of hemlock poison pressed
to his lips, offered himself upon the altar of human sacrifice for
the divine right of liberty in man.
The words of Patrick Henry before the Virginia Assembly: "The next
gale that blows from the north will bring to our ears the resounding
clash of arms. I know not what course others may take, but as for
me, give me liberty or give me death," lifted the soul of Colonial
America up to the coronation of a supreme sacrifice and made this
Republic of the West a possibility.
In the world crisis, American soldiers and sailors, as the champions
of civilization, laid their all, their hopes, their aspirations,
their ambitions, their home ties and affections upon the altar of
human sacrifice to insure our national safety, defend our national
honor, and vindicate the ideals of American Independence on the
battle fields of Flanders and of France.
In a little country school I was taught that our National Flag
stands for the graves of men and the tears of women, for untrammeled
conscience and free institutions, for sacred memories and great
ideals; that its red stands for the blood that bought it, its white
for the purity of the motive that caused it to be shed, its blue for
loyalty ascending to the sky, and its stars for deeds of bravery
brighter than the stars of faultless night, But when I think of
George Washington and Gen. Joseph Warren, and Capt. John Paul Jones,
and that heroic band of Masonic patriots in the American Revolution
and cast the utility of our Craft against the background of its
history, I can see its stripes of red baptized in the sacrificial
blood of our Fraternity, and its stars of glory illuminated By the
deathless light that shines from a Masonic Altar.
In Freemasonry we are familiar with the ancient drama of sacrifice
made in the name of faith, fortitude and fidelity.
These three, sympathy, service, sacrifice, are the avenues for the
external expression of the sentiment of brotherhood in man's heart.
In proportion as we are inspired by this ideal and use these avenues
of expression, our Fraternity will contribute to human good and
happiness and answer the end of its institution.
Tools have been called "The evangelists of a new day." They are
teachers not less than college and cathedral. Just as the
Twenty-four-inch gauge and Common Gavel stand for purpose and power,
and the Level, Square and Plumb present basic ideas of equality,
morality and righteousness, so the Trowel is Freemasonry's symbol of
unity and brotherhood among men.
|