The ancient charges of Freemasonry were written for a world of stone lodges, candlelit meetings, and handshake agreements. But strip away the archaic language and they’re still some of the soundest advice you’ll find anywhere. Here are six that deserve dusting off.
“Act on the square”
The charge means deal honestly. No hidden angles. No saying one thing and meaning another.
In practice? Be honest in your emails. Say what you actually mean rather than wrapping it in three paragraphs of corporate hedging. And for the love of all that’s decent, stop BCCing people to cover yourself. If you wouldn’t say it with everyone in the room, don’t say it at all. The square has four equal sides. Your words should match your intentions on every one of them.
“Be a true and faithful brother”
Faithfulness isn’t a grand gesture. It’s not rushing to someone’s side during a crisis and then vanishing when the drama fades. It’s the steady, unglamorous business of staying in touch.
Check in on the friend who went quiet. Not with a group text — with a proper message, or better still, a phone call. “Haven’t heard from you. Everything alright?” That’s it. You don’t need a script. You don’t need to fix anything. You just need to show up, even when nobody asked you to. Especially when nobody asked you to.
“Avoid private piques and quarrels”
This one’s magnificent. Private piques. What a phrase. It means don’t nurse grudges. Don’t let a small slight ferment into a full-blown feud.
Modern translation: don’t take arguments to social media. Don’t post passive-aggressive stories about people who’ll recognise themselves. Don’t screenshot a private conversation and share it with six friends for validation. If you’ve got a problem with someone, pick up the phone. Meet for a coffee. Settle it face to face, where tone of voice and eye contact can do what a typed message never will.
“Be cautious in your words and carriage”
Carriage — meaning how you carry yourself. Your bearing. The impression you leave when you walk into a room, and the one that lingers after you’ve left.
Think before you post. Your words outlive the moment. That tweet you fired off at midnight, the comment you left in frustration, the email you sent before your coffee — they’re all still there tomorrow, and they’ve already shaped someone’s opinion of you. The old Masons understood something we’ve forgotten: reputation is built slowly and destroyed in a sentence.
“Practise charity”
Not just money, though money helps. The charges meant something broader: generosity of spirit.
Give your time. Listen to someone without waiting for your turn to speak. Show up at the thing you said you’d show up at, even when the sofa is calling. Drive the elderly neighbour to his appointment without mentioning it to anyone afterwards. The best charity has no audience. It’s not a photo opportunity or a JustGiving page — it’s a Tuesday evening spent doing something unglamorous for someone who needed it.
“Improve in Masonic knowledge”
The charge tells us never to stop learning. In lodge, that means studying ritual, reading the lectures, asking the brother who’s been doing it for forty years how he remembers his lines. (He’ll love you for asking.)
Outside lodge, it means the same thing in a different key. Read a book that challenges what you already think. Ask a question in a meeting even if you’re worried it sounds basic. Take a course. Learn to cook something new. Talk to someone whose experience is nothing like yours and actually listen to the answer.
The charges weren’t written as rules to follow and forget. They were written as standards to grow into. Three hundred years later, they still fit — if we’re willing to try them on.
Related reading: Old Tilers Talks: What the Door Teaches You · Sammy L. Davis: A Freemason Who Carried Courage Into Battle