The Recollections of an Eighteenth-Century Gentleman of the Craft January 19th 1781 Saint Agnes' Eve Weather: Bitter cold Outlook: Occluded Not so much a wolf in sheep's clothing as Mutton, dressed as Lamb

Saint Agnes, blessings be upon her, laid down her life rather than give up her purity and that one must admire. She refused marriage at the age of thirteen as she had dedicated her life to Our Lord and for this she was placed in a brothel. A man who gazed upon her nakedness was instantly struck blind, which served him right! The similarity of her name to the Latin agnus has given rise to the association of the lamb with which her and lambs are still blessed, on her feast day, in Rome. I read also, in Hutton's Curiosities of Christendom, that the wool from these creatures is woven into the pallia of archbishops by the nuns of Saint Agnes' convent. Unsure of precisely what a pallium was, but anxious to be enlightened, I got down my Latin dictionary, upon which is inscribed, in a childish hand, Lightfoot(sic) is a Lobcock, dating it precisely to 1736, when I was in the same form at school as one Samuel Withers who, I sincerely hope, still walks with a limp. Therein I discovered that a pallium is the term given to the soft, fleshy, outer covering of things such as snails and oysters, whence they secrete their shells. I recall one of my infant witticisms:

Why wouldn't the cockles lend the crab half a crown?
Because they were shellfish!

Lightfoote allows himself a wry smile and senses a verse coming on - but first...I have read recently that certain dignitaries of the Church have called into question the validity, nay, the propriety, of Freemasonry, and have made it known that divines who decide, on occasion, to exchange the alb for the apron risk, by so doing, any ecclesiastical advancement. We are accused of secrecy, self-advancement and sympathy for the devil. Credite posteri!
    It need hardly be pointed out that, were Freemasonry secret, the Anglican inquisition would be unable to identify its members, and, conversely, if they know which of their number are masons, it's hardly a secret, is it? As for the charge of mutual back-scratching, one must assume that this alludes to favouritism rather than the freely admitted and unashamed Masonic practice of helping each other along - which extends to all. It is commonly conceived that Masons regularly favour each other in business dealings and matters of professional preferment.
    Were this true, Masons wouldn't be in business for long. Faced with choice of employing, in whatever capacity - for a poor plumber may cause as much grief as a bad barber - a cack-handed companion in masonry or a master craftsman who's a cowan, which would you prefer?
    Doubtless much business has been transacted over a few fraternal ales following a lodge meeting, but no more, I warrant, than is done in the average Covent Garden Coffee House or any of the new, so called "Gentlemen's" clubs that are currently springing up like grass and will, in all probability, whither as fast, in the area adjacent to that hotbed of indolence: St. James's Palace. Birds of a feather, as the saying goes, flock together, thus a man feels at ease with persons he knew at school - Withers most especially excepted - and with those with whom he has some common interest, be it fishing, fencing, ferreting or Freemasonry. One might assume that the Church would disapprove of each of these activities therefore, except that...
    Fishermen, fencers (either kind) and ferret fanciers are not, generally, held to be in league with Beelzebub. I say unto you: if the Freemasons - who trace their lineage from the journeymen who constructed the great cathedrals (yea, even the Temple of Solomon!) and whose primary guiding light is the sacred writings - are supposed to be servants of Satan, they are obviously diabolically unsuitable for the task and long overdue for dismissal!
    One is tempted to write to one's bishop, in green ink, but Lightfoote stays his hand. To rise to such risible bait can only encourage more of the same to be cast. Remember the words of the Senior Warden on the occasion of one's initiatory investment, with that badge that is "more ancient than the golden fleece or Roman eagle..." and consider well their import.
    I said that I sensed a staza stirring, didn't I? Not for the first time, I think it was the shellfish that brought it on, combined with St. Agnes' lamb:

The Bishop of Bath and of Wells
Wears a pallium embroidered with shells,
But under his knickers,
Like all priests and vicars,
He's no better than anyone else.