There is a tendency for Freemasonry to be left behind at the Lodge door; for its precepts to be intellectually appreciated but not lived in the manner that they require. That is, should you wish to continue your journey on the chequered path which leads from the rough ashlar to the smooth.
    Remaining true to the path requires constant attention and that is one of the uses of our symbolism: not only to communicate a wealth of ideas and insights, but also to remind us of that great aspiration which we share. Great? Certainly. For we all aspire to become better men. And that is about as great as aspiration comes. One can ask no more of anyone: ‘To steer the bark of this life over the seas of passion, without quitting the helm of rectitude, is the highest perfection to which human nature can attain’, states our ritual.
    But sometimes we forget; sometimes our memory and our conscience need reminding and so the symbols come into play. The Square and Compasses, for example, formed into the famous masonic design known and used the world over, remind us that on our journey, morality and honesty - along with moderation in all things - are integral to our every dealing with others.
    In the pursuit of this memory, I find that a particular poignancy resides in simple everyday items which have been engraved with masonic emblems - arranged less, it seems to me, as an affectation or an over-enthusiasm with arcana, than from a recognition of the need for constant vigilance in the face of the frailty of human resolve.
    One great pleasure as editor of Freemasonry Today is to visit masonic museums in the company of writer, Yasha Beresiner. Recently we were in Manchester together and there I saw a number of items which struck me with the feeling that with these some good masons had once tried to remind themselves to become even better.
    There were a pair of nineteenth century carriage lamps with masonic emblems engraved on the glass, along with a cane, the head of which opened into a cross with masonic symbolism engraved on it - you can see them illustrated on page 45 . There were also snuff boxes and watches, beautiful objects but of high value
    and perhaps more prone to artistic embellishment than the pursuit of morality. I have elsewhere, though, seen simple objects bearing our symbols - brass stands for the primitive flat-irons, match-boxes, clay pipes, pen knives, fire pokers - objects which through their daily use would bring the sharp sparks of moral memory to bear on lives now long passed.
    And yet these men, over the last two hundred years, have all shared our ritual; we could walk into their Lodges and feel at home; they could equally come into ours. Within the Lodge room and the ritual, all is equal. As Freemasons we share something profound not only with our Brethren today but with all those who have preceded us. We have all taken that journey which is our ritual. We still respond to the same symbols as they did. To look at objects in a museum is not to study relics of a past age but variations on a theme which is still vibrant.
    I am often reminded of this at meetings of my Mother Lodge. We were originally an Antients lodge and we have records of continuous working from 1801. Quite a few of our Lodge ornaments and tools date from that early time. We use them at each meeting with affection and familiarity. They are not antiques or historical relics, they are our daily implements. And yet, when they were made, Napoleon was just coming to power and had not yet won any of his great military victories. But the implements are as relevant and useful today as then. For us, in some way, history has been rendered timeless.
    You will sense - I hope - what I am trying to say: that our Craft not only embraces all masons across a world riven by political, economic and religious differences. It also draws us together with our past and our traditions, which in the sense I have sought to express, are still living and immediate.
    We are custodians to a living tradition, not a dead one. One with much to give. But while preserving its heart intact I feel that we should never be afraid to modify its expression in order to allow it always to be ‘coming into being’. For that way it remains alive.
    Michael Baigent MA – Editor