Master Freemason

The Road

Every journey that matters has three parts. There is the moment of setting out, when everything is new and the traveller hardly knows which way to look. There is the long middle stretch, when the traveller learns to read the land, to judge distances, and to carry the weight of the pack without complaint. And there is the arrival, which is never quite what was expected, because the traveller who arrives is no longer the same person who left.

Freemasonry arranges its first three degrees in the same way. The stands at the threshold and receives the first light. The walks the middle road and is invited to study, to measure, and to think. The reaches the end of the formal journey, and discovers that the end is really a new beginning. The degree does not close the book of learning. It hands the Mason the key to the whole library.

This handbook is written for those who have recently walked that road, and also for those who stand outside and wonder what the road is like. It cannot and will not describe the private ceremonies of the lodge. Those belong to the experience of the candidate, and an experience described in advance loses most of its power. What it can do is explain the ideas that the degree places before the Mason, and show why generations of thoughtful people have found in them a guide for living and a comfort in the face of death.

A road is only useful if someone walks it. The symbols of the third degree are like milestones along the way. They tell us where we are and point to where we might go, but they do not move our feet. The reader is therefore asked to treat what follows not as a set of facts to memorise, but as an invitation to reflect, to question, and to continue walking.

The of

The third degree is traditionally called sublime. The word comes from Latin and suggests something lifted up, raised to a height beyond the ordinary. It is a fitting name. The first degree speaks to the Mason as a moral being learning to govern desires. The second speaks to the Mason as a thinking being learning to understand the world. The third speaks to the Mason as a mortal being who must one day face the end of life, and who needs a reason for hope.

In this sense the three degrees can be compared to the stages of a human life. Youth is a time of instruction and of first impressions. Adulthood is a time of labour, study, and growing skill. Age is a time of reflection, when the questions of meaning and of what lies beyond become more urgent. The degree gathers up the lessons of the earlier degrees and sets them against the largest question of all.

The completion of rights and duties

In practical terms, the third degree brings the Mason into full membership of the Craft. A may vote in the lodge, may hold office, may visit other lodges, and may take part in the government of the fraternity. With these rights come duties. A is expected to know the laws of the Craft, to support the lodge, to care for the brethren and their families, and to set an example in daily life.

There is an old idea in Freemasonry that the degrees confer nothing that the candidate does not already carry within. The ceremony makes a in name, but only the Mason can become one in fact. A title is received in a single evening. The character that the title describes is built slowly, over many years, by many small decisions made in private.

Why the degree is drama

Much of the third degree is presented as a kind of solemn drama. The candidate does not simply listen to a lecture. The candidate takes part. This is an ancient method of teaching. A truth that is felt as well as heard sinks deeper and lasts longer. Those who have experienced the degree often say that its meaning keeps unfolding for years afterward.

The Hiramic Legend

At the heart of the third degree stands a story. It is the story of , the master builder who, according to Masonic tradition, directed the work on King Solomon's Temple in Jerusalem. The Bible mentions a skilled craftsman named Hiram, sent from the city of Tyre to work in bronze for the Temple, and describes him as a man filled with wisdom and understanding. Freemasonry takes this figure and builds around him a legend that is not found in Scripture.

It is important to be clear from the start. The Hiramic legend is not offered as history. No serious Masonic scholar claims that the events it describes happened as told. It is an allegory, a story whose meaning lies beneath its surface. Like a parable, it uses the language of events to speak about truths of the inner life. To ask whether it is historically true is to ask the wrong question. The right question is what it teaches.

The story in outline

In broad terms, which are widely published, the legend runs as follows. The Temple was nearly finished. Hiram, as master of the work, held the knowledge that would allow a craftsman to travel and earn the wages of a master. Certain workmen, impatient and unwilling to wait until they had earned that knowledge by faithful service, resolved to take it from him by force. They confronted him, and demanded what he would not give. Hiram refused, because the knowledge was not his alone to give, and because he had promised to keep it. For that refusal he lost his life.

The work stopped. The builders, now without their master, searched for him. In time his resting place was found, marked by a simple green branch. The story ends not in despair but in a raising, a restoration that speaks of hope. The details of this part of the drama are reserved for the lodge, and the candidate experiences them in person.

Fidelity

The first great lesson of the legend is fidelity. Hiram is not a hero because he is strong or clever or famous. He is a hero because he keeps his word when keeping it costs him everything. He had every opportunity to save himself by betraying a trust. He chose instead to remain faithful.

Most of us will never face such a dramatic test. Our tests are smaller and more frequent. They come when a confidence would be easy to share, when a promise has become inconvenient, when the truth would cost us money or reputation. The legend asks the to be the kind of person who keeps faith in small things, so that in a great test the choice will already be made.

The impatient workmen

The legend also has something to say through its villains. The workmen who attacked Hiram wanted the reward without the labour. They wanted to be called masters without becoming masters. In this they represent a temptation that lives in every human heart: the wish for the result without the process, for the title without the character.

Some readers also see in them the forces that destroy any good work: ignorance, which does not understand; fanaticism, which will not listen; and ambition, which will not wait. Others see in them the passions within ourselves that can kill what is best in us. Freemasonry does not insist on one reading. It places the story before the Mason and trusts the Mason to reflect.

Immortality

The deepest lesson of the legend concerns death and what lies beyond it. The story does not end in the grave. It ends with a raising. Whatever the Mason believes about the life to come, the drama affirms that death is not the final word, that the good a person does is not simply erased, and that the soul has a destiny beyond the dust.

Freemasonry does not tell its members what form this hope must take. People of many faiths sit together in the lodge, and each brings their own understanding. What the legend offers is not a doctrine but a conviction, shared across those differences, that human life has a meaning that death cannot cancel. The Preacher of the Old Testament gave this conviction a memorable form.

Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it. (Ecclesiastes 12:7)

The

In the Temple at Jerusalem there was an innermost room, called in Latin the , the Holy of Holies. It was a perfect cube, without windows, and it held the Ark of the Covenant. According to the biblical account, only the High Priest could enter it, and only once a year, on the Day of Atonement. It was the place where heaven and earth were believed to meet.

Masonic tradition adds a quiet detail to the Hiramic legend. It is said that Hiram went each day at noon into the inner part of the Temple to offer his devotions and to lay out the plans for the work. Whether one reads this literally or not, the image is striking. The master builder did not begin the day's labour without first withdrawing into the most sacred space to seek guidance.

The inner room of every life

For the , the Holy of Holies becomes a symbol of the inner life. Every person has a place within that no one else may enter. It is the place of conscience, of private conviction, of prayer or meditation, of the deepest hopes and fears. What is done there is seen by no human eye, yet it shapes everything that is done in the open.

The lesson is simple and demanding. If we wish our outward work to be good, we must keep the inner room in order. A life that has no time for reflection becomes shallow and restless. A life that regularly withdraws, even for a few minutes, to consider its purpose and to seek strength from whatever source the person holds sacred, gains steadiness and depth.

The Lion

The lion appears in the symbolism of many peoples and many ages. It stands for courage, for royal dignity, and for strength that does not need to boast. In the Bible, the tribe of Judah is given the emblem of the lion, and the Temple at Jerusalem was built in the territory associated with that tribe. Later religious writers used the image of the lion of Judah as a sign of power that overcomes death.

In Masonic symbolism the lion connects to the climax of the Hiramic legend. The strength that raises is not the strength of the many workmen who tried and failed. It is a greater strength, associated with the lion, which succeeds where human effort alone falls short. The candidate is invited to see in this a reminder that the hope of renewal rests on a power greater than our own.

Strength in the service of good

There is also a plainer lesson. The lion is strong, but its strength is admired because it is noble. The is called to be strong in this same way: strong enough to defend what is right, to protect those who are weak, and to remain steady under pressure, but never cruel and never proud.

Many people confuse strength with force. True strength is often quiet. It shows itself in patience, in the ability to endure hardship without bitterness, and in the courage to stand alone when the crowd is wrong. These are the qualities that the lion represents in the lodge.

The third degree speaks of . The ceremonial form in which they are presented belongs to the lodge, and it is not described here. Their meaning, however, is open to all, and it is among the most practical teachings in the whole of Freemasonry.

The word point once meant a main heading or chief matter, as one might speak of the points of an argument. The five points are therefore five chief duties that one Mason owes to another. They describe what brotherhood looks like when it moves from words into actions.

In general terms, they ask the to keep the following in mind:

To be willing to go out of one's way to help a brother or sister in genuine need, so far as one is able without harm to oneself or one's family.
To remember others in one's prayers or deepest thoughts, wishing them well even when they are absent.
To keep faithfully a confidence that has been entrusted, unless keeping it would conflict with the law or with a higher duty.
To support and defend the good name of a fellow Mason, both in their presence and behind their back.
To offer honest counsel, gently and in private, when a friend is going astray.

None of these duties is unique to Freemasonry. They are found in the moral teaching of every great tradition. What the Craft adds is a solemn reminder that these duties are not optional decorations of a good life. They are its substance. A lodge where they are practised becomes a true community. A lodge where they are forgotten becomes merely a club.

Three Grand Pillars

Freemasonry teaches that a lodge is supported by three grand pillars, named Wisdom, Strength, and Beauty. These three ideas appear in every degree in different forms, but in the third degree they take on a fuller meaning. They describe not only how a building stands, but how a life, a community, and indeed the universe hold together.

The three pillars are often associated with three figures from the story of the Temple. Wisdom is linked to King Solomon, who planned the work. Strength is linked to Hiram, King of Tyre, who supplied the materials and the means. Beauty is linked to , whose skill adorned the work. In many lodges the three principal officers are understood to represent these same qualities.

Wisdom

Wisdom is the pillar that plans. Without it, effort is wasted and good intentions go astray. Wisdom is not the same as knowledge. A person may know a great many facts and still act foolishly. Wisdom is the ability to see what matters, to weigh one thing against another, and to choose the right course at the right time.

Strength

Strength is the pillar that supports. A plan, however wise, achieves nothing unless there is the power and the will to carry it out. Strength in this sense includes physical energy, but also perseverance, discipline, and the moral courage to finish what has been begun. Many good projects fail not for lack of vision but for lack of steady effort.

Beauty

Beauty is the pillar that adorns. It is easy to think of beauty as a luxury, something added after the real work is done. Freemasonry takes a different view. A building that is strong and well planned but ugly is incomplete. A life that is wise and disciplined but without grace, kindness, or joy is likewise incomplete. Beauty is the quality that makes goodness attractive and invites others to share it.

The three in balance

The deepest lesson of the three pillars is that they must work together. Wisdom without strength is idle dreaming. Strength without wisdom is dangerous. Either one without beauty is harsh and cold. The is asked to cultivate all three in balance, and to recognise that a lodge, a family, or a society needs people who bring each of these gifts.

The Guarded by the 's Sword

Among the emblems of the third degree is an image of the , the written law of the Craft, guarded by the sword of the . The is the officer who stands outside the door of the lodge to make sure that only those who are entitled to enter may do so. Together, book and sword form a symbol of the relationship between law and vigilance.

The takes its name from the famous work compiled by the Reverend James Anderson and published in London in 1723, a few years after the founding of the first . That book collected the traditional charges of the old and set out regulations for the government of the new speculative fraternity. Every today has its own constitution, but most look back to Anderson's work as their ancestor.

What the sword guards

A sword at a door can seem unfriendly. Its purpose, however, is protective rather than aggressive. The 's sword does not threaten those who come in good faith. It protects the lodge from interruption and from those who would misuse what the lodge holds in trust.

In the same way, the is asked to guard the laws and principles of Freemasonry. This means more than knowing the rules. It means being watchful in one's own conduct, so that nothing one says or does brings discredit on the Craft. It also means being careful in admitting others, so that the fraternity remains a place of trust. The sword, in the end, is held by every member.

Watchfulness over oneself

There is a further meaning that each Mason may apply privately. Each of us has a door to guard: the door of the mind and heart. Thoughts, influences, and habits seek entry all the time. Some are welcome. Others would do harm if admitted. The 's sword reminds the to keep a careful watch over what is allowed to take root within, and to measure every new idea against the moral law that the represents.

The

Few symbols are as ancient as the eye that watches over the world. In ancient Egypt the eye was associated with divine protection and with the power of the sun. Many other cultures developed similar images. In Freemasonry the represents the , the Supreme Being whom Masons of every faith acknowledge, each in their own way.

The Bible expresses the same idea in many places. The Psalms speak of a guardian who is always awake and attentive.

Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep. (Psalm 121:4)

Comfort and responsibility

The carries two messages at once. The first is a message of comfort. No one is truly alone or forgotten. Whatever a person suffers in silence is known, and whatever good a person does in secret is seen. For many Masons this brings great peace, especially in times of hardship or grief.

The second message is a message of responsibility. If every act is seen, then there is no truly private wrongdoing. A person who believes that conduct matters only when others are watching has not yet understood the Eye. The is asked to behave in the dark exactly as in the light, because integrity is not a performance for an audience.

A note on misunderstanding

The has become well known to the general public, partly because a version of it appears on the Great Seal of the United States. This has led to many strange theories. In fact the design of that seal was not a Masonic project, and the eye was a common religious emblem of the period. In the lodge the symbol has a simple and gentle meaning: the presence and care of the Creator over all creation.

The

One of the emblems of the third degree is a geometrical figure: three squares arranged around a right-angled triangle. It represents what Euclid of Alexandria, writing around 300 BC, set down as the forty-seventh proposition of the first book of his Elements. Today most people know it as the theorem of Pythagoras. It states that in any right-angled triangle, the drawn on the longest side is equal in area to the squares drawn on the other two sides added together.

Masonic tradition credits Pythagoras with the discovery, and tells a story that he was so delighted that he offered a sacrifice in gratitude. Historians believe that the principle was known in practical form much earlier, in Babylon, in Egypt, and elsewhere. Pythagoras and his followers may have been among the first to prove it as a general truth. Euclid then gave it the form in which it has been studied ever since.

The builder's tool

For , this theorem was not an abstract curiosity. It was a working tool. The simplest example uses the numbers three, four, and five. Three squared is nine, four squared is sixteen, and together they make twenty-five, which is five squared. A builder who takes a cord divided into twelve equal parts, and stretches it into a triangle with sides of three, four, and five parts, will have a perfect right angle. With nothing more than a knotted cord, foundations could be laid square and walls set true.

It is easy to see why this emblem belongs to Freemasonry. The , the chief tool of the Craft, depends on the right angle. The right angle, in turn, can be tested and created by the forty-seventh problem. It is, in a sense, the hidden geometry behind every square corner of every building raised by Masons in every age.

Its meaning for the

The emblem is often described as an encouragement to love the arts and sciences. That is true, but there is more to it. The theorem shows that the world has a reliable order that the human mind can discover. A truth proved in ancient Greece is still true today, in every land and in every language. This suggests that the universe is not chaos, but has been built according to a design, which is precisely what the title implies.

There is also a moral reading. The three squares are different in size, yet they are bound together by an exact and harmonious relationship. A lodge, too, is made of people of different gifts, backgrounds, and temperaments. When they are joined by the right principle, the result is a whole that is perfectly balanced. Some Masons also see in the two smaller squares the two earlier degrees, which together make up the greater square of the third.

The

Of all the emblems of the third degree, the is perhaps the one that speaks most directly to the heart. It is a small green branch, and it carries the largest hope that human beings have ever held: that life continues beyond death.

The is a hardy tree of the Middle East and other dry regions. Its wood is dense and durable. The Bible calls it shittim wood, and the Book of Exodus records that the Ark of the Covenant and many furnishings of the Tabernacle were made from it. It was, in other words, a wood associated with the sacred and with things meant to last.

An evergreen sign

In the Hiramic legend, a marks the place where the master builder lay. The plant was evergreen, remaining green while other plants withered. Across many cultures, evergreens have been used as emblems of life that endures through winter and of the soul that endures through death. The custom of placing green branches on graves is very old, and it survives in many places to this day.

At a Masonic funeral, it is customary in many jurisdictions for Masons to place a , or of another evergreen, upon the coffin or into the grave of a departed brother. The gesture is quiet and simple. It says, without words, that the brethren believe their friend has not simply ceased to be.

Faith rather than proof

The does not prove anything. It does not attempt to. Questions about life after death cannot be settled by geometry, as the forty-seventh problem settles the right angle. The speaks instead to faith, to the deep and widely shared conviction that the spirit of a person is more than the body, and that the Creator who gave life will not abandon it.

This is why the symbol can be shared by Masons of very different religions. Each understands the life to come in the light of their own tradition. Some speak of resurrection, some of heaven, some of a return to the source of all being. The does not choose between them. It affirms what they share: a hope that gives courage in the face of loss and that encourages each person to live in a way worthy of that hope.

The Laws of Freemasonry

When a Mason becomes a , they take on a commitment to obey the laws of the Craft. These laws come from several sources. There are the constitutions, regulations, and decisions of the under which the lodge works. There are the by-laws of the individual lodge. And there are the , usages, and customs that have been handed down over centuries.

The written law of most looks back to Anderson's Constitutions of 1723. That book contained two main parts. The first was a set of Charges, describing the duties of the individual Mason toward God, the civil authorities, the lodge, and fellow Masons. The second was a set of General Regulations, describing how lodges and the should be governed. The Charges were seen as permanent principles. The Regulations could be amended as circumstances required.

The spirit of the

The are still worth reading, both for their content and for their spirit. They describe a person who is honest, peaceable, courteous, and loyal. One of them begins with a sentence that has guided Masonic conduct toward civil society ever since.

A Mason is a peaceable Subject to the Civil Powers, wherever he resides or works, and is never to be concern'd in Plots and Conspiracies against the Peace and Welfare of the Nation. (Anderson's Constitutions, 1723)

Behind this lies an important principle. Freemasonry is not a political organisation and does not take sides in political disputes. Discussion of party politics and sectarian religion is traditionally avoided in the lodge, so that people of different convictions may meet in harmony. The Mason is expected to be a good citizen, but the lodge itself is a place of peace.

The

The are the foundations of Freemasonry that cannot be changed. If they were removed, what remained would no longer be Freemasonry. The General Regulations of 1723 allowed the to make new rules, but only on the condition that the old were preserved. Unfortunately, the first never made a definitive list of what the were, perhaps because everyone at the time believed they were obvious.

As a result, different have adopted different lists. Most agree on certain essentials, such as belief in a Supreme Being, the presence of a in the lodge, the use of the symbolic degrees, and the duty of secrecy concerning the modes of recognition. Beyond these, practice varies. A should learn what the are in their own jurisdiction, and should treat them with the respect due to foundations.

Justice tempered with mercy

Like any community, Freemasonry must sometimes deal with members who break its rules. Masonic law provides for a fair hearing and for a limited range of penalties, from a formal reprimand to suspension or, in the most serious cases, expulsion. Such cases are rare. The great majority of Masons obey the laws willingly, because they share the values those laws express.

Masonic discipline has always sought to correct rather than to punish. The aim is to restore a member to good conduct, to protect the reputation of the Craft, and to show mercy wherever mercy can be shown without injustice. A who sits in judgement on another should remember that each of us stands in need of patience and forgiveness.

The Power of the Ballot

No one becomes a Freemason by simply paying a fee or filling in a form. Every candidate must first win the approval of the brethren of the lodge in a secret ballot. In many jurisdictions a single negative vote is enough to reject a candidate, though some have adopted different rules. This method gives each a great responsibility, and few privileges of the degree carry more weight.

The secret ballot exists to protect the harmony of the lodge. Freemasonry depends on trust. If a person were admitted whom some members could not trust, the peace of the lodge would be damaged, perhaps permanently. By requiring something close to unanimous consent, the Craft ensures that each new member can be welcomed by all.

A power that must be used well

Any power can be misused. The secret ballot protects a Mason from pressure, but it also removes accountability. No one will ever ask why a member voted as they did. This means that the conscience of each voter is the only safeguard. A negative vote cast for good reason, because the voter honestly believes the candidate would harm the lodge, is an act of loyalty. A negative vote cast from personal dislike, jealousy, or a desire for revenge is a serious wrong, both to the candidate and to the voter's own integrity.

Equally, a positive vote should never be cast carelessly. A who knows of a genuine reason why a candidate is unfit, and votes in favour simply to avoid awkwardness, fails in duty to the lodge. The ballot asks for honesty in both directions.

The secrecy of the vote

The secrecy of the ballot is absolute. A Mason must never reveal how they voted, and must never try to discover how another voted. Neither should one try to influence the vote of another by argument outside the proper channels. To do any of these things is to undermine the very protection the ballot is meant to provide. A rejected candidate is owed discretion as well, and the result of a ballot should never become a subject of gossip.

Vouching

A may also vouch for another Mason. To vouch is to declare, on one's own word, that a certain person is a Mason in good standing. This may happen when a visitor wishes to enter a lodge where no one else knows them, or when a Mason introduces a fellow member to others.

Vouching is not a casual introduction. When a vouches for someone, they are saying that they have personal knowledge of the fact. Usually this means that they have sat with that person in a regularly opened lodge, or that they have tested that person by the proper means. A friendly conversation, a ring, a membership card, or a shared acquaintance is not enough.

A matter of personal credit

The person who vouches places their own reputation behind their word. If the person vouched for turns out not to be a Mason, the one who vouched has failed in a solemn duty and has allowed the door of the lodge to be opened to someone who had no right to enter. For this reason, Masons are taught to be careful and even strict in this matter.

This care should hold even with close friends and family members. Affection is not evidence. A Mason who is sure, in their heart, that a relative is a Mason, but who has never sat in lodge with them, should not vouch for them. This may feel awkward, but it protects everyone, including the relative, who will be properly examined and then welcomed with full confidence.

Only a may vouch

The right to vouch belongs only to , and it applies only to what the Mason personally knows. One cannot vouch for someone on the basis of another person's assurance. The chain of trust must be direct. This rule may seem strict, but it is one of the reasons why Freemasons in different countries can meet as strangers and part as friends. Behind every introduction lies a personal guarantee.

The Character of a

What does it mean to be a , not in title but in truth? The ceremonies can confer a rank, but they cannot create a character. That task belongs to the individual. Still, the teachings of the three degrees together paint a clear portrait of the kind of person the Craft hopes to form.

A is first of all trustworthy. Their word can be relied upon, their promises are kept, and confidences entrusted to them are safe. This is the lesson of the Hiramic legend in daily form. A is also tolerant. They respect the honest convictions of others, even when they do not share them, and they do not seek to impose their own beliefs on anyone.

Qualities in practice

Some of the qualities the Craft hopes to see in a can be stated simply:

Honesty in business, in speech, and in private dealings.
Charity toward those in need, given quietly and without seeking praise.
Moderation in pleasures and in temper.
Loyalty to friends, to family, and to the community.
Humility, which recognises that there is always more to learn.
Reverence toward the , however the Mason understands that name.

None of these qualities is achieved once and for all. They are practised, lost, and recovered many times in a lifetime. Freemasonry does not expect perfection. It expects effort, sincerity, and a willingness to keep working on the rough stone of one's own nature.

An example to others

Because a is a representative of the Craft, their conduct affects how others see Freemasonry. People who know nothing of the lodge will judge it by the behaviour of the Masons they meet. A single Mason who is dishonest or unkind can do more harm to the reputation of the fraternity than any critic. A single Mason who is generous, patient, and upright can do more good than any publication. The carries this responsibility wherever they go.

A Master's Wages

The old were paid for their work, and Masonic tradition still speaks of the wages of a Master. In the speculative Craft, however, no money changes hands. The wages of a are of a different kind. They are paid in understanding, in friendship, in peace of mind, and in the satisfaction of a life well spent.

In ordinary employment, wages are set by others. In Freemasonry, the Mason largely sets their own. The fraternity offers its symbols, its teachings, its history, and its fellowship to every member alike. What each person gains depends on how much they are willing to give in return. One Mason attends a few meetings, hears the ceremonies, and is content. Another studies, reflects, serves, and discovers layer after layer of meaning. Both are . Only one has collected the full wages.

Digging deeper

The symbols of Freemasonry can be compared to an ancient site where one layer of history lies beneath another. On the surface there is a simple meaning, easy to see. Beneath it there is a second meaning, concerning moral conduct. Beneath that there may be a third, concerning the nature of the soul, and perhaps further layers still. No single person ever reaches the bottom. The work of discovery can fill a lifetime.

This handbook, like the ceremonies themselves, is only a beginning. It points to paths that the may follow: the history of the Craft, the meaning of its symbols, its moral philosophy, its law, and its spiritual teaching. Each of these paths rewards those who walk it. The who reads, asks questions of experienced brethren, takes part in lodge education, and above all tries to live by what is learned will find that the wages are generous indeed.

Free to travel

Masonic tradition links the wages of a Master with the freedom to journey abroad. In a literal sense, this means that a may visit lodges throughout the world and be welcomed as a brother. In a deeper sense, it means that the is free to explore every region of thought and experience, carrying the tools of the Craft, and to gather from each the rewards of a curious, honest, and generous mind.

Freemasonry Comes to the New World

The story of how Freemasonry spread beyond the British Isles is long and fascinating, and it touches nearly every part of the world. This handbook can offer only a brief sketch, and it will focus on the arrival of the Craft in North America, where its early history is unusually well documented and closely bound up with the birth of a nation.

The first was founded in London in 1717. Within a few years Masons were travelling with the ships of trade and empire, and lodges began to appear wherever British subjects settled. Some of the earliest gatherings in the American colonies were informal, meeting without any charter from a . Records from this period are scarce, and much remains uncertain.

The first appointments

Tradition holds that Jonathan Belcher, later governor of Massachusetts and New Jersey, received the degrees during a visit to England in 1704, which would make him one of the earliest known Masons born in America. In 1730 Daniel Coxe, a resident of New Jersey, received from the in London a deputation as Provincial for New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania. Historians have debated whether Coxe ever used this authority, since little evidence of his Masonic activity survives.

In 1733 Henry Price received authority as Provincial for New England, and in that same year he constituted a lodge in Boston that is often regarded as the first regularly chartered lodge in America. Historians in different states have long held a friendly disagreement about whether Coxe or Price deserves the title of father of American Freemasonry. The question remains open, and it does not diminish the achievement of either man.

Growth and influence

From these beginnings the Craft spread quickly. Within a few years there were lodges in Pennsylvania, South Carolina, Georgia, New York, and elsewhere. In Philadelphia, Benjamin Franklin became an active Mason, served as of Pennsylvania, and in 1734 printed an edition of Anderson's Constitutions, the first Masonic book published in America. George Washington was made a Mason in Virginia in 1752 and remained connected with the Craft throughout his life.

Many of the leading figures of the American Revolution were Masons, though many others were not, and lodges contained members on both sides of the conflict. It would be an exaggeration to say that Freemasonry caused the Revolution. It is fair to say, however, that the ideals discussed in the lodge, such as liberty of conscience, equality of members, government by consent, and respect for law, were shared by many of those who shaped the new republic.

Prince Hall and the widening circle

An important chapter of this history concerns Prince Hall, a free man of African descent living in Boston. In 1775 he and fourteen other men of colour were initiated into Freemasonry by a military lodge attached to a British regiment. They later received a charter from the of England, and their lodge became the foundation of what is now known as Prince Hall Freemasonry. For many years this branch of the Craft was not recognised by other American , a painful division that has gradually been healed in many jurisdictions. Its story is a reminder that the ideal of universal brotherhood has always called Masons to live up to their own principles.

A living tradition

From the American colonies, and from many other centres in Europe, Freemasonry eventually reached every continent. Each country gave it a slightly different character, shaped by its own language, culture, and history. Yet wherever it went, it carried the same essential teachings: the three degrees, the symbols of the builder, the duty of charity, and the hope expressed by the green .

The who reads this brief history stands at the end of a long chain of men and women who received these teachings, lived by them as well as they could, and passed them on. To become a is to join that chain. It is both an honour and a trust, and the best way to honour those who came before is to hand on the Craft in good condition to those who will follow.