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The Third Great Light
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THE THIRD GREAT LIGHT.
Many hundreds of workmen are laboring on a great building a Gothic
cathedral which one day will be a poem in stone, a hymn to the Most High,
a glory of architecture which will enthuse and make men reverent for a
thousand years and more in the future.
There are many Fellows of the Craft expert cutters of stone and layers of
ashlars. Some build flying buttresses some carve intricate and beautiful
designs for the interior. In a hut nearbyit is called by the good old English
name of "lodge"the Kings' Master Mason bends over his plans and draws
his designs upon the trestleboard, as did Hiram Abif in the long, long ago.
A knock sounds upon the door. To his impatient "Enter then, and be quick,"
a lad pushes upon the portal and stands bareheaded before the Master
Workman of them all.
"Well, well? What is it, thou? I am busy upon the King's work..."
The 'Prentice bows his head. "Honored Sir," he begins, timidly, "Full seven
years have I served now I would make my Master' Piece, and it please you
to let me try."
The King's Master Mason lays down his work and turns, interested.
"So! Seven years- how the days do pass Thou art young to be a Fellow of the
"A man grown, Sire. Twenty-one summers have gone over mg head."
"Hm. Twenty-one. 'Tis man's estate, but- art sure thou art ready? Art sure
thou canst cut or carve or set the stone sufficiently well to pass the eyes of
"Aye, Master, I am sure...at least, wilt thou look at thy records? There is
naught against me. I have done thy bidding. I have brought no dishonor upon
the Craft. I have labored long and with my heart as well as with my hands.
I have paid attention...why, Master, thou thyself hath instructed me!".
"Aye, aye. A good lad...I know. And so thou wouldst make thy Master's
Piece and be a Fellow of the Craft! There will be then, another lad enrolled
as an Apprenticein a year, mayhap, he will be entered on my books and
become an Entered Apprentice, even as didst thou, so few days ago..."
"Six years ago, Master!"
"Sixor sixtythey are still few for the building of a Cathedrals Well, what
wouldst thou of me?"
"Permission to try, Master...and that thou shouldst prove my square! 'tis old,
old, and while I believe it to be true, I must e'en know it is true before I try
for mine honor."
The Master Workman nods approvingly. "Thou hast been well taught, in
truth! To Work with an unproved square on important stone is folly. So be
it. Thou hast my permission and- after the midday meal, bring me thy
"Sire, may I see thee test it?"
"Now, now! Surely thou knowest better than that! How know I thou canst
make thy Master's Piece successfully? Show thee the great secret of the
square? Ah, no, lad- not until thou hast much more of age and
experience...but bring me thy square!"
It is after the midday meal. A few, perhaps, have eaten it upon long tables
in the lodge. If a good day and warm, many have refreshed themselves
without using as tables, stones ready for the setting. 'Prentices have brought
great flagons of cold water from a spring, hard by. Women from the town
have carried huge baskets of food for the hungry workmen, and wives and
daughters and mothers and sweethearts stand about chatting with their men
while they eat. Then a bell rings and all go back to work - all except the
Entered Apprentice, who, square in hand, stands again at the door of the
"Come in, thouso! It is an old square, forsooth! Where got you it?"
"From Fellow Eben, Master'tis he who has taught me much, and he who
loans me his cherished tool. He believe it true, he and I, but we would be
"Eben& good man. He would know soon enough if his square were awry.
But wood doth warp and steel doth bend-I will test thy square. Be off with
thee, and return in an hour!"
Pulling his forelock, the Entered Apprentice departs. What thoughts crowd
his mind! The Master's Piece he will attempt to make what task will be set
him to do? A rough ashlar to be made perfect? A stone carving he must labor
over? Or will he be given twenty stones and a helper and told to build a wall,
or start or complete a buttress? Whatever it is, he will have a true square. If
he is to fail, it will not be because of a faulty tool. Well he knows how good
work, true work, square work is tested when it is submitted by an Entered
Apprentice as a Master's Piece! Not easily do the Fellows of the Craft admit
a newcomer to their ranks. The Entered Apprentice who is to become a
Fellow must know his work. He must know his angles and his mortar, his
gavel and his level and plumb. He must understand how to work a broached
thurnel, and how to tap lightly on his irons or heavily to break a great piece
of stone...stone costs much in time and labor to bring from the quarries and
no false work can be permitted 'tis the King's stone!
What goes on in the lodge? What mystic powers does the King's Master
Mason use to try Eben's square? What a wonder it is, this great knowledge
this power to make a building grow where was but a pile of stones! A square
is either square or awry. The tiniest fraction out and the walls lean, the stones
seat insecurely the one upon the other. But with the square perfect, the stones
can be perfect, the walls true, the building a lasting monument to God...
Within the hut the King's Master Workman closes the door and bars it.
Perhaps he has set a tiler or two to guard it those who set tiles on roofs are
less busy than the layers of walls. Sure that he is free from the prying eyes
of those who might climb up to the open space beneath the eaves to listen-
and, if it rains get thoroughly wet from the droppings from the roof, or from
cowans who never built more than a low wall of field stones, huddled the one
on the other to keep the cows from wanderingsecure from prying eyes, the
King's Master Mason takes from its place his compasses.
Long they are and rough to look at, made of sturdy oak with an iron hinge,
but with fair and true brass points.
Next a sheet of clean white parchment 'tis costly, this parchment, but seven
years! The King's Master Mason shakes his long white hair about his seamed
and lined old face. Seven yearsone third of the lad's life! 'Tis worth it, even
though parchment be expensive!
On the rough table he lays it, and weights its edges down with clean stones.
With the compasses he scribes a circle upon it, a generous circle perhaps a
cubit across. The sharp brass point scratches in the parchment so the circle
is plain to see.
From his rack of drafting tools the King's Master Workman takes a straight
edgefinest work that Fellow Edwin could make. Long had he labored with
the block of close-grained ebony, brought from across the seas, to make it
true. Backed with strong ash, smoothed of edge, until like the silk that
women wear in the East, and straight as the line that divides the sea from
The Master sights along its edges, more from habit than distrust. Then with
care he lays it across the circle, so that it touches the tiny puncture in the
center made by the stationary leg of the compasses.
"Now, the square-point mark!" he mutters. "'Tis no matter where I make
it-the good God so made this mathematical wonder that I cannot fail, put it
where I may." With one point of the sharp brass pointed compasses he makes
a dot on the circle. As he has said, it makes no difference where. Then with
two shorter, straight edges connecting the dot on the circle with the
circumference. Narrowly he looks.
"What? Do mine eyes deceive me? Is it really out of true?" He picks it up,
again lays it down, adjusts it carefully. He looks again, first from above, then
from each side. "Nay, I was wrong. They do coincide. Each is equally
truethe square I have made by the secret and the power of the
compassesthe square which Ebon has usedwhich now the young lad will
The King's Master Mason picks up his tools, rolls again the parchment and
puts it away.
"I could wish I might show the lad," he sighs. "But it would never do. And
likely he hath not the mind to understand. Indeed, who hath the mind to
comprehend? What a wonder is the good God to provide such perfect ways
to make things perfect. Now why, doth one suppose, doth a dot on a circle,
when connected to points in a line with the center, become the juncture of a
perfect square? Never a fraction of a fraction of an inch wrong! Always is the
angle right the angle of the level on the plumb, a right angle indeed. Who
comes?" as a knock sounds on the door.
"Tis thine officer who presides over the Fellows of the Craft - who but
"So. Enter then. I have but now tested Eben's square for a lad who will try
to make his Master's Piece..."
"Would mine had been tested!" mourned Hiram. "Remember, Master? I did
not ask for the testing of my square and it was not right angle, but an angle
askewit cost me a year more of Entered Apprentice Work before thou
wouldst let me try again!"
The Master smiles. "Aye, I remember. Well, thou hast tested the tools oft
enough since. But Eben's square is true, a very right angle indeed."
"While a square is circumscribed within the circumference of a circle, it is
impossible that it materially err!" agrees Hiram.
"Aye, the point within the circlethe line acrossthe lines connecting they
make precepts which all Fellows must, and all men should, heed. Didst ever
think, Hiram, that that applies to tools of brass and iron and wood, applies
also to character and conscience and mind? Try the square by compasses, the
circle, the point within it, the straight edge so should man try his soul. Let
the point be the individual. Let the circle be that boundary beyond which his
passions and prejudices may not stray. Let the circle be a holy doctrinehe
cannot, then, do any act which is not square, nor materially err in any
"Tis a Pity all cannot know and understand, as dost thou!"
"Aye. But so it is ordained. The square is minemine by virtue of being the
Master. It is for me to know, for me to try, for me to test the square. But the
compasses-they belong to the Craft, since it is by the compasses that I do test
the square which Craftsmen use!"
"Square and compasses!" mused Hiram. "All that glorious building, the most
of which is yet to be, would never be, without the square and the
"And neither square nor compasses would be possible without the wonder of
the mathematics which God hath set in the midst of the compasses for the use
and guidance of us, His Craftsmen," answered the King's Master Workman,
"Aye, aye, so mote it always be!" answered Hiram, bending his head.
Following is a closing poem for Sts. John Observance:
FOR THE BAPTIST
By William Drummond.
The last and greatest Herald of Heaven's King
Girt with rough skins, hies to the deserts wild,
Among that savage brood the woods forth bring,
Which he than man more harmless found, and mild.
His food was locusts, and what there doth spring
With honey that from virgin hives distilled
Parched body, hollow eyes, some uncouth thing
Made him appear, long since from earth exiled.
There burst he forth: "All ye whose hopes rely
On God, with me these deserts mourn,
Repent, Repent, and from old errors turn!'
Who listened to his voice, obeyed his cry?
Only the echoes, which he made relent,
Rung from their flinty caves,
Remember, if you don't see the Ashlar "A", it's not authentic.
By Brothers, For Brothers & always For the good of the craft...
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