dionysus cato and freemasonry - The Grand Lodge of Minnesota

Educational Lodge N o . 1002 

A.F.& A.M. of Minnesota 

Bulletin No. 126 St. Paul, Minnesota August 29, 2006 

DIONYSUS CATO AND FREEMASONRY 

Bro. Antonio Palomo-Lamarca, Royal Arch 

Ancient Landmark N°5, St. Paul-Minnesota (U.S) 

\t is my perception the Medieval 

times were the most interesting ones in the 

History of the Western civilization. In it we 

do find verses of antagonism and prose of 

bigotry along the crucial lines of wisdom. It 

was times for imagination, for reason and 

for faith. To define “medievalism” is to 

limit the cords of history with the fingers of 

reckoning. Many scholars have already 

given out distinct dates in order to de-limit 

the historical period embraced as 

“medieval.” Yet, there is not a general 

consensus as to which dates must be more 

accurate than others. For the sake of 

concision and pertinence, I shall use the 

generally accepted historical curve which 

goes from the year 500 AD up to the year 

1450 AD—even though some scholars cut 

off the latter number to fifty years earlier. 

The collection of sayings I am about to 

discuss is generally supposed to have been 

rendered between the third and fourth 

century AD. Our Bro:. Benjamin Franklin 

published in 1735 in the city of Philadelphia 

an edition and translation of this very book, 

and he cherished it very much as a treasure 

of morality. 

The book I am about to comment on 

is entangled in-between these two dates, and 

yet, there is not a significant and exact date 

as to which year it was actually written—let 

alone by whom. Commencing with a 

biographical tone, the author discloses his 

own identity as Dionysus Cato; immediately 

1 of 14 

Dionysus Cato and Freemasonry 

addressing his son and letting him know the 

appended sentences are for him and for his 

personal use in order to have a happy life. 

These are moral sentences, saying which 

any man can read or peruse to enjoy a 

moment of tranquility and reflection. It is 

my inclination to believe that this collection 

of sayings, forming a complete book, would 

be of an enormous satisfaction and benefit to 

those who enter the Craft of Freemasonry as 

apprentices. It is the perfect study for the 

Mason who is willing to learn and sacrifice 

his prejudices to the Great Architect of the 

Universe or Great Mystery. I was told once 

that a Mason is a man who only has duties 

and no rights. I’ve hewn that in my heart. 

Freemasonry is a system of spirituality and 

of ethics; this spiritual ladder—symbolized 

as the Jacob’s ladder—is composed with the 

rungs of ethics, where we do not sit to rest, 

but in which we do step in order to climb 

higher. The way each man construct the 

ladder is his own doing and responsibility, 

and the manner he decides to climb is part of 

his self-education and existence. Religion 

forms just a very small part in this, and it is 

unlikely to be a rung at all. Religion and 

spirituality are two separate and different 

things. The first is the mother of bigotry; 

the second the mother of eternity. For a true 

Mason the spiritual aspect is the only and 

most important in our teachings and 

symbols—that is why we do accept any 

person with any religious creed. Jacob’s 

ladder discloses the mystery of the 

apprentice just entered in the Temple of

Solomon; it is a ladder of the spirit that leads 

to the realm of the sempiternal gods. 

What can a bundle of sentences do 

for an initiated in Freemasonry? This is a 

very impertinent question, and I wonder 

about it because Philosophy and the 

philosophical quest are impertinent per se. 

It has already been said that doubt is the 

mother of wisdom, and to know is to 

question and wonder. No matter, our 

question being impertinent is legitimate. 

This book of sentences, of sayings, of 

wisdom is intended to be a pool of 

watery teachings for the initiate—and I say 

“watery teachings” because they can only be 

dried-up by the solar Wisdom of God. It can 

be useful to any profane man or woman, but 

my interest at this very moment goes to 

Masonry. If the true Mason ought to be one 

walking on the spiritual ladder of Jacob and 

stepping on its moral rungs, then, a book—a 

condensed one—which describes this trip 

into a common and easy-going language 

must be as precious as gold. 



I wish to do a brief commentary on 

those sentences which I believe more 

relevant to the Masonic wisdom and path; I 

have translated myself this book from the 

Latin into the English language keeping the 

original sense from the Latin. We deal here 

with a literal translation, and because I have 

scrupulously respected the virginity of the 

text, it might sound a little “disharmonious” 

to the lay reader not acquainted with the 

Classic languages or Classic English. If the 

author said something, I just translated 

directly what did he say respecting the 

originality of the sentence. The translated 

language sounds antique and out-of-style, 

yet it is not grammatically incorrect. 

Introduction to The Cato by Bro:. Franklin. Scanned 

from the original.

After explaining the reason and core 

of his writing in this little-book, the author 

divides it into two main sections: monostichs 

and distichs. It starts with short sentences, 

arranged in just one line, an old-style of 

narrating called “monostich.” Indeed, next 

to it comes a series of sayings which are 

characterized by their being a “two-sided 

composite,” and this style was called 

“distich.” 

I. 

Starting with the monostichs, Cato 

begins with God, asking to his son to follow 

no lead of anyone and kneel to anyone 

except for God. The very first sentence, 

Deo suplica, talks about the power of God 

on everything on earth; it is a simple 

sentence with a simple meaning, the 

meaning of surrendering. To surrender 

himself to the Wisdom of God, to Its 

mysterious dictates, to Its eternal power. 

Some translators have literally murdered the 

whole text I have translated; they have put 

nouns where they are not, and invented 

adjectives where they are inexistent. In 

general, the Latin verb suplica, which is an 

imperative form, has been mistranslated as 



“pray,” giving a sense of “praying” to 

God—which will turn into “pray to God.” 

This is misleading and it does not maintain 

the virginity of the text. The main verb 

supplico means “to beg,” and it entails the 

act of “keeling-down.” Of course, this 

might be understood as an action towards 

prayer, and indeed, a prayer to God; yet, 

what would it be the sense of writing a 

sentence asking to somebody to pray to 

God? It must be already implicitly grasped 

that when one prays, he or she prays to 

God—regardless whoever decides to pray to 

some other entity. In fine, Cato is asking his 

son the following: if you are to beg or to ask 

for radical help, then you ought to keel 

down to God, do not beg to any mortal. 

The next sentence of importance for 

a Mason is—in my view—the one where 

Cato says “to be perseverant:” Diligentiam 

adhibe. I’ve translated this as “employ the 

perseverance,” and with this it must be 

understood that from all the usages we may 

employ in life the one regarding 

perseverance, firmness and hard-work is the 

most important. We Masons represent that 

with the symbol encompassed with a horde 

of bees working all-together around a 

beehive. 

Now then, the following sentence is 

the very kernel of the Masonic institution, its 

essence and its pride and foundation: 

Iusiurandum serua, “keep the oath.” Once a 

man establishes an oath and accepts it, he 

must live keeping that oath, and being 

mindful of why and how he did commit 

himself to such an enterprise. This should 

be an act of humility, and a remainder that 

our actions depend on our virtues, and that 

the Masonic oath is the binder which unites 

them. An oath must be stated with and from 

the heart, without extreme passions. It must 

be avoided the memory-work as the central 

part, since memory is a divine gift and it

always languishes in old age; yet, the spirit 

never decays, it is for ever and ever 

conscious of its doings and compromises. 

Freemasonry is a fraternity of 

progress in the service of humankind, which 

is why she fosters research and tolerance. I 

have selected the following phrase as a tenet 

of this our philosophy of progress and 

research: Bono benefacito. I decided to 

translated this one as “do service to the 

good,” which means that we must serve to 

those who need it, and these ones must be 

“good,” since we considered them 

meritorious of our service. In consequence, 

we should connect this sentence with the 

next one I’ve selected in order to complete 

its whole meaning: Aequum iudica, which 

is: “Judge equally.” When we do service to 

society or to any man or woman or 

organization, we must do it standing firm in 

an unbiased perspective, equally treating 

those who are in front of us. Equality is a 

Masonic virtue that must be cultivated on a 

daily basis. The highest Masonic motto— 

coming from the French Revolution— 

asseverates: Liberty, Equality and 

Fraternity. 

In the next place we have: Patere 

legem, quam ipse teleris, that is to say: “to 

open to the precept that you yourself are 

stuck to.” This is another remainder of our 

oath as Masons, a remainder of fidelity, 

confidentiality and commitment. As the 

sentence declares, we ought to be “open” or 

“mindful” in our inner-space, in our heart, in 

our mind to that Law, that precept, that way 

of life we’re determined to stroll. The 

precept can be seen under the above French 

and revolutionary motto: a way to freedom 

and tolerance. 

II. 



Among the distichs—the doubledsentences—I 

have picked up several of them 

which I, again, believe they reflect the 

Masonic philosophy best. The second part 

of the book, these distichs per se, is divided 

in four different sections or booklets 

wherein the ethical brush is once more 

applied on. Remarkably enough, the author 

starts again with God, fixing the tiny-puny 

border which divides the divine from the 

ethical. Another mistranslation has been 

given in this very first phrase, and it deals 

with the meaning of the word animus, which 

has been very badly rendered as “soul.” Let 

me explain animus is not soul, since there is 

another Latin word which defines her, and 

this is: anima. The resemblance is amazing, 

and it has cost many mistranslations, not 

only in this book, but in many other ones. 

Animus means “mind,” “intellect,” the 

power which differentiates a human-being 

from an animal. This power is related with 

our discursive way of thinking, with our 

logic and reason. None the less, this power 

possesses a much higher state, a state of 

consciousness—altered—wherein gods and 

pure spirits live. This state of consciousness 

Plato deeply studied. Later on, the 

Neoplatonists called it “intellectual,” and it 

was that realm where a Superior Intellect 

existed. This Superior Intellect was God, 

and it itself was deemed to be Pure Intellect: 

Si Deus est animus, nobis ut carmina dicunt, 

Hic tibi Praecipue sit pura mente colendus. 

“If God is Intellect, such as the poems tell 

us, 

This one be to you especially with a pure 

mind cultivated.” 

Nothing is as precious to a Mason as 

his/her mind, by it he understands life and 

interprets it; by the power and excellence of

the mind, the Freemason sees how to 

become more patient and less prejudiced, 

and it is thanks to the power of the mind that 

a Freemason betters him or herself. When 

we understand the fact that God is a Pure 

Mind, perhaps gigantic or microscopic, or 

per chance infinite, then we are liable to 

better ourselves in the hands of a Supra- 

Architect whose Eternal Might is directed to 

the pure spirit. Yet, now I did say “spirit” 

and not “mind,” and after all it is legitimate 

to wonder the whereabouts of the difference. 

Allow me to explicate and say the mind and 

the spirit are two sides of the same coin. 

Mind and spirit are complementary to each 

other, like the two sides of our body and the 

two sides of our brain. To enter into 

philosophical disquisitions of this kind 

would take me hours—since this is the 

hottest topic in the philosophical pillars. A 

man can lose his mind and not his spirit—in 

fact, he can not lose it. The animal kingdom 

possesses mind and spirit, but their mind 

works in a different way than ours. The 

ancients understood this fact compromising 

the human mind to be linked to the gift of 

articulate-language. For the old Greeks a 

man is not a rational animal only, but an 

animal that can speak and think at the same 

time. It is through language that the mind 

becomes aware of herself, and it is through 

language that consciousness appears. The 

ancient Greeks called this emphasis “logos,” 

which means “reason” and “speech” 

conjointly; the Latins translated it as 

“uerbum,” and this is the very word that is 

still used in our religious ceremonies 

without much understanding from those who 

listen. The apostle St. John starts his gospel 

with a simple dictum: The Word was in the 

beginning, and that very Word was with God 

and God was that Word. In the original 

Greek the word used is “logos,” which later 

on St. Jerome shall translate as “uerbum,” 

that is: word. This is not to say God is a 

“super-intelligent” creature, but just to 



underline the verity that God must be a pure 

spirit with the power to disclose Itself as 

pure mind and speech. This pure mind and 

speech can only be grasped and understood 

by another pure mind, or by default it could 

only be glanced by cultivating a pure mind. 

To do this one has to get rid of 

imperfections, and our Masonic teachings 

declare that in the very first degree, that of 

apprentice, one must learn how to shape the 

rough ashlar, which is the analogue or 

metaphoric example to an impure mind. 

The perfect ashlar will be a perfect mind, a 

rock so steady and compact that no mishap 

can ever move or destroy. It is the first 

stone in the Temple of Solomon, the pride 

and joy of a Master Mason. Being this 

perfect ashlar the pure mind I am talking 

about, the next stage is to offer it to the 

inhabitant of that Temple, and who else can 

it be but God? In this sense, no ceremonial 

offerings are as important as the offering of 

our own perfections to God, and the shaping 

of our own imperfections in order to attain 

that state to which we all have been called 

for to fit in. That state is the level wherein a 

Master Mason is encrusted, and it represents 

the human perfection by means of good 

deeds, of tolerance, of love, of fraternity, of 

humility. When the degree of Master Mason 

is conferred the recipient is entitle to strive 

for such perfection, and he or she knows that 

to know is to suffer and to suffer is to be 

purified. Nobody is a Master Mason except 

symbolically, but we have been beneficiaries 

of the gift of becoming; and by this, I mean 

that a man is always in a state of becoming, 

and a Mason is in the duty of becoming 

something better. Being mindful that our 

Mastery in Masonry is just symbolical 

permits us to foretaste the manna of 

knowledge, of pure wisdom and of pure 

intellect; it is a remainder to tell us that there 

is a god inside of us. That one must be selfrespected 

and self-tilled with love, passion 

and understanding.

The next motto I desire to examine 

signs as follows: 

Infantem Nudum Cum Te Natura Crearit, 

Paupertatis Onus Patienter Ferre Memento. 

Whereas Nature created you a naked infant, 

Remember to bear patiently the burden of 

poverty. 

We all love money: ones more than 

others. We all are attached to something: 

either material or spiritual. We all desire or 

long for. Desire is the skeleton of our 

imperfections. 

Matthias Grünewald (1475-1528): The Temptation of 

Saint Anthony, (1515). 

The religious philosophy of Buddhism 

declares that wishing is the threshold of 

suffering, since we strive to acquire things 

which are most likely impossible. In our 

medieval times the popular imagination 



encompassed this philosophy under the 

titled of “virtues and vices,” that, of course, 

it is full of Christian connotations. These 

virtues and these vices changed from time to 

time, and it was not the same during the 

Crusades period as it was during the early 

Medieval one: in the first, it was the ideal of 

becoming either knight or a monk which 

enticed the qualities of virtue, whereas in the 

latter—which is the period that concerns to 

Cato—strives for showing “knowledge” or 

“wisdom” as the principal virtue. In this 

regard, the Christian ideal of becoming a 

hermit was the core of the zone. And this 

ideal virtue was mainly represented by St. 

Anthony and his temptations in the desert. 

St. Anthony represented the Christian ideal 

of humility. A hermit is to be poor and to 

enjoy life with a minimum of supplies. He 

is the adult image of an infant, naked and 

devoid of help. Yet, his strength is primarily 

centered in his spirit which is to be focused 

on God. The embracement of poverty was 

already seen as a sign of humility—the same 

that a sage ought to possess. A Mason 

without humility is not a true Mason. The 

apprenticeship degree teaches us and, at the 

same time, initiates us in the mystery of 

humility. The candidate is aware that he 

came naked to the world to depart—in the 

Third degree—naked as well. This 

nakedness is represented during the First 

degree with the left knee, left chest and arm 

devoid of any clothing, to materialize this 

fact the candidate is bereft of “metal 

substances,” which represent the materiality 

of life, and so, he is conduced blindfolded in 

a long-life trip in search for knowledge. 

Ne Timeas Illam, Quae Uitae Est Ultima 

Finis: 

Qui Mortem Metuit, Quod Uiuit, Perdit Id 

Ipsum. 

Fear that not, which of life is the last limit:

Who at Death dismays, whilst he lives, he 

loses he himself. 

Fear is a very natural apprehension, 

it is chemical by nature and it depends on 

personality traits and hormones—that’s why 

many animals can literally smell fear. The 

Freemason is not liberated from fear, he is 

mortal and surrounding that mortality is the 

state of fear among others. If the First 

degree stresses our naked condition in the 

Universe, the Third degree shows us with all 

its despondency the reality of betrayal and 

death. The candidate is taught to believe 

only in himself and in That Who is above 

him or her. His travels are not yet finished, 

and the search for knowledge is still a 

symbol which is yet to move toward. We 

entered into the Craft as a child and we are 

expected to end as a man. Once the 

candidate is symbolically slain, not only is 

he buried, but his bones became putrid and 

dry as the penance of Life itself. Hitherto, 

life is not concluded for him. In the degree 

we do see the magnificent King Solomon, 

seated in his throne dispatching justice. We 

are told he is the bodily manifestation of 

Wisdom, and yet he represents also, and 

particularly in this degree, the virtue of 

Hope. Once the candidate is lost and dead, 

Solomon portraits his own actions as the 

mirror of Hope, and it is by means of this 

hope how a second and primal mystery 

appears: I mean, the mystery of resurrection. 

Only through hope the candidate shall be 

restored to life—and the justice that 

Solomon shared had nothing to do with it. 

Thus, the Third degree teaches us, as the 

maxim of Cato, to not fear Death and to 

keep steadfast in hoping. In the end, the 

essence of the Master Mason degree is like a 

tree, where the fruit is the Resurrection, and 

the roots are Hope. Now then, what each 

person may or may not understand by the 

term “resurrection,” I shan’t discuss in this 

paper, but it suffices to just say that the 



concept of resurrection is older than the 

birth of Christianity and it belonged to 

different cultures as well. 

The Freemason is wont of 

knowledge, and in this path one might find 

things which are wanted and things which 

are not wanted at all—and yet we must take 

them as they come. The basis of success is 

coated by the basics of accepting things as 

they are and, on top of it, appreciating those 

that are considered just as “trifle ones” or 

even not magnificent. The following 

sentence expresses in the words of Cato 

what I am trying to convey: 

Ne dubita, Cum Magna Petes, Impendere 

Parua: 

His Etenim Rebus Coniungit Gratia Caros. 

Doubt not, when the magnificent you ask 

for, to devote to the trifle: 

In these indeed things the gratitude joins the 

expensive. 

Not only must the Mason be appreciative 

and grateful for everything, but also must be 

aware of his human-position and fragility. 

This position, here and now, determinates 

his existence and the way he relates to the 

world. Developing a consciousness of 

appreciation for that which is just simple or 

small creates in us a sense of reality wherein 

a non-attachment to frivolities is 

interpolated. We only know and learn how 

to appreciate things once we have lost them, 

and then we are aware of the value they had. 

This is very simple to understand if we 

thought on something we had and never 

appreciated and once it was gone we 

realized about its worth. In other words: we 

don’t estimate that the kidneys exist in us 

until they start hurting. The second degree, 

that of the Fellow-Craft, would be a perfect

example for this. The candidate has done 

some progress, but he is unaware of this 

progress. He can only realize about it by 

thinking it lost. There is a new search for 

knowledge inside of an old-one. A new start 

with an old ending. He must maintain the 

treasure of his own progress, and appreciate 

that the progress done little-by-little is as 

great as that produced by sages. It has been 

said that this degree is a degree dealing with 

plain-existence, with our lives, or else, with 

Life itself. It is a practical degree indeed. 

Luxuriam fugito, simul et uitare memento 

Crimen auaritiae; nam sunt contraria 

famae. 

Flee from luxury, and likewise remember to 

avoid 

The flaw of avarice; for they are contrary to 

notoriety. 

Nothing would be as reprimanding 

as a Mason who being greedy and vain does 

not attend to his own consciousness. A 

clean consciousness mean a healthy body: 

mens sana in corpore sano—said the 

ancients. It is the fundamentals of 

psychosomatic medicine, where everything 

that goes into the mind filters into the body. 

A Mason is constantly fighting his passions, 

and greed is not less. We are all greedy in 

our own and personal way; money and 

possessions don’t buy enlightenment—and 

every initiated must keep this as a main 

tenet. Avarice is a flaw indeed, not only 

contrary to fame or self-respect, but also evil 

in its own origin. The remainder of death, 

of our mortal condition is a good way to 

stop our greedy ways, since we can not take 

with us after death that which we 

accumulated in life. Naked we came and 

naked we shall depart. With no possessions 



we showed-up and with no possessions shall 

we leave. Masonry does not teach to leave 

our belongings, but it does teach us not to be 

attached to them. 

As we can see Freemasonry is a 

temple built with moral and spiritual bricks; 

the Temple of Solomon represents this 

design, and we must not confuse it with a 

material composite but in its stead, it is a 

spiritual model where the two main 

columns: Jachin or the pillar to the South 

and Boaz or the pillar to the North mean the 

two realms: the material and the spiritual. 

Let’s recall that these pillars were cast out of 

bronze and not gold—even the capitals were 

made of bronze as well. As the Roman god 

Janus, the two-fold god, the common-reality 

possesses two main aspects: the material and 

the spiritual. Janus represented the month of 

January, and he was a good who looked at 

the inside ofd things and also at their aspect 

from without. Cato expresses this concept 

in this maxim: 

Quod sequitur specta quodque imminet ante 

uideto: 

Illum imitare deum, partem qui spectat 

utramque. 

What is followed, look; whatever 

approaches beforehand watch-out: 

That god be emulated, who looks at each 

part. 

Janus was a complicated god, but he 

was indeed the chief of all temples, that is to 

say, he was the one who invented the 

concept of “temple.” He had two faces, one 

to look at the north of everything, and the 

other one to look at their south. He was the 

master of changes, and it was not because he 

changed but because he knew and perfectly 

understood the essence of changing in

Nature. At each temple, he was supposed to 

be the gate-keeper, and he was the guardian 

of the Gate to Knowledge—his name itself 

comes from the Latin word janua, that 

means “gate.” The month of January, which 

is the first month, is the “gate of the annual 

calendar.” In our Craft this god is 

represented by the Tyler, who watches over 

the lodge from the outside knowing the 

secrets from the inside. It would be nice to 

foresee what is going to happen, and it is 

said that only to God belongs this dangerous 

knowledge. It has also been said that the 

Devil knows of the past and of the present 

and yet, not of the things to come. A 

Freemason doesn’t expect to achieve a sort 

of “supra-wisdom” to know the future; but 

he does strive for establishing the 

foundations of secure knowledge, a 

knowledge that grants the skill of foreseeing 

things out of personal-experience. And that 

is exactly the meaning of the above 

sentence: to witness reality and learn from it. 

Sermones blandos blaesosque cauere 

memento: 

Simplicitas ueri forma est, laus ficta 

loquentis. 

The flattering and mellow speeches 

remember to beware of: 

Simplicity is the shape of the truth, the 

commendation of the talker a fiction. 

Nothing is more fictional than 

vanity—it feeds our imagination. A Mason 

must at all moment be mindful of life as a 

mirror of distorted reflections, where the 

true shapes or images are flawed by the 

convexity of egotism. As humans we are 

prone to internalize things through our mind 

and exteriorize them by means of language. 

Language is so a sword of Damocles 



hanging upon our heads, just waiting to 

attack or drop by itself. It is the most mortal 

weapon, since it carries the internal-force of 

our sentiments and the external-remnant of 

our ideologies. Mentioned firstly by the 

Roman orator and philosopher Cicero, the 

sword of Damocles is an ever-lasting curse; 

says Cicero that the old king of Syracuse, 

called Dionysius, and that lived in the fourth 

century before Christ, was a very rich man 

and had many flatterers at his court: one 

these flattering-fellows was Damocles. 

Being the king so tired of listening to his 

words, he asked Damocles back that if he 

loved so much his possessions and his 

power, why not he should check being a 

king for himself. Damocles was so eager 

and greedy that he assented to the royal 

demand. Everything was fine except for the 

point where Damocles noticed a very long 

and sharpened sword hanging upon his own 

head. Obviously he was alarmed, but even 

more alarmed he became when noticed that 

the so-called sword was hanging suspended 

from the ceiling just with one hair of a 

horse. Damocles inquired as to why, and the 

king explained that that was how it felt like 

being a ruler: Damocles then, asked to be 

relieved from this duty and said: he rather 

preferred to be poor and safe than rich and 

troubled. Language can be equaled 

with that sword, always hanging and always 

unsafe. Whatever we may say to-day could 

be used against us in the-morrow. Language 

is a lethal weapon, and that’s why they say 

God lives in silence.

Richard Westall (1765-1836): The Sword of 

Damocles, (1812). 

Life is the greatest Miracle of all; 

Death: the greatest Mystery. The greatest 

mystery beyond our understanding. The 

greatest test. We are mortals but magic 

beings, and it is our mission to ascertain 

such knowledge. Respect for our innerness 

is the perfect example for us and our fellowbeings. 

Innerness means the interior-space 

wherein the spiritual and the material quarrel 

their dues like two Titans in the dark-abyss 

of existence. This innerness ought not to be 

confused with “intimacy.” Intimacy is 

privacy; innerness is community. Being 

aware of our innerness is being aware of that 

which connects us with our fellow-beings— 

particularly with the human ones. This 

sense of togetherness must be essentially 

understood by a Mason, for it is that which 

makes us what we are with ourselves and 

with others. It is only through pain or 

suffering how Man realizes about that 

important relationship between himself or 

herself and the others; the rhythm we put to 

our lives is most of the time drummed by 

our personal ideas, and half of that time we 



are pathetically wrong. Like a twig on a 

prairie we are stricken by the winds of 

society and the storm of uncertainty. None 

the less, Nature is always bigger than society 

and came first too: 

Commoda naturae nullo tibi tempore derunt, 

Si contentus eo fueris quod postulat usus. 

The conveniences of Nature in no time to 

you lamented, 

If content with it you were insofar as the 

occasion requires. 

What is trying to convey here 

Dionysus Cato? I must say that sentence 

carries a heavy weight of Stoicism—a kind 

of philosophy very popular during the 

Roman Empire and during the next two 

centuries after the Fall of Rome. The stoic 

philosopher has to be tranquil and 

straightforward. I personally believe there is 

a manifested influence of Stoicism within 

the Masonic ethics. Thus, we are before a 

relationship; a relationship of Man with 

himself from himself—and this relationship 

is born in society. Yet, society is just a 

bridle to the chaos of Nature. The Stoic 

philosophers know that, and the Mason 

learns from it as well. Nature is bigger than 

Man, and her pleasures and nuisances are 

just to us like the bridle to a horse. One 

must always be glad with the ways Nature 

expresses herself—even though most of the 

time we fail to understand. Science strives 

for grasping the meaning of that Chaos; of 

that manner which Nature foments 

producing endurance and patience. As Cato 

says, Nature does not weep for us; she is not 

lamenting our misunderstandings and shortcomings—much 

less our naked 

helplessness. Being contented with her 

decisions is the beginning to understanding

the very kernel of the matter. We learn 

through pain and Nature makes sure we get 

it. Life is a test and Nature is the teacher. 

Our happiness depends on our 

understanding her, but this ought to be a 

deep understanding and not a superficial 

one. 

Res age quae prosunt; rursus uitare 

memento, 

In quibus error inest, nec spes est certa 

laboris. 

Practice the things that are useful; in turn 

remember to avoid, 

In whom error exists, no hope is certain of 

the effort. 

Good learning comes only 

throughout good practice; and mastery 

comes by means of repetition. In this sense 

of repetition we must exert a passion for 

learning and participation in the process of 

it; thus, and with it, comes the product of the 

effort, an effort which is labor or work. 

Obviously, there is no hope for those who 

wrongly toil in their lives. If learning means 

practicing, it must be practicing that which 

is good and profitable—practicing things or 

issues that are useful. The key to it is 

avoiding being attached to that which learn, 

and in a sense, becoming dependent on 

something which is immaterial to us. 

However, the most important part of it is not 

avoiding becoming dependant, but avoiding 

developing a sense of arrogance due to what 

we have learnt and mastered. If we fell into 

such a mistake, then, the effort we wielded 

is loosen. 

Now then, a Mason is not a Mason 

just because of the fact that he or she went 

through a series of initiation ceremonies— 



there is a much deeper realm to this. Neither 

a Mason is a Mason because he or she is 

able to memorize a sequence of words 

commonly called “memory work”—even an 

actor could do that and certainly he might 

not be a Mason. Parrots are capable of 

memorizing and repeating and yet, they do 

not understand that which they are 

echoing—on top of that they are not 

masons. Memory is a goddess, them, 

ancient Greeks, called her: Mnemosyne. 

Daughter to Uranus and Gaia, she had a 

special relationship with language— 

typically with that that was inspired by the 

Muses. The latter ones were in connection 

with the poets, but the primeval poets were, 

in fact, witches, medicine-men, priests, or 

shamans. They had the ability to enter into 

an altered state of consciousness, by means 

of hallucinogenic plants, dances, or 

drumming, or fasting, and once in such state 

they talked to the spirits, to the gods, to 

angels and demons and from them they 

wrote down whatever the other told. This is 

how books like the Iliad, the Odyssey, some 

books of the Bible, the Koran, the Works 

and Days, etc, came into being. These are 

named “inspired books,” because they were 

actually given by another’s voice and the 

writer was just the vehicle to deliver the 

message. Biblical inspiration is the closest 

to our culture—we were born in it. The 

Bible calls—generally speaking— 

“prophets” to these poets, to these shamans 

or medicine-men. Some of them had also 

the power to heal, some others had just the 

power to enter into the so-called “altered 

state of consciousness” in order to deliver a 

communication. Indeed, prophecy was part 

of literature, in fact, it was the literature. 

Traditionally, medicine was also a part of 

prophecy, and the very king Solomon—even 

though he was not considered to be a 

prophet—was supposed to have written 

some medical treatises which were given to 

him by inspiration. Also, Noah was

supposed to have medical knowledge given 

to him by inspiration—particularly by the 

angel Raziel. In all this the gift of memory 

plays part, and the power of learning of 

born: 

Exerce studio quamuis perceperis artem: 

Ut cura ingenium, sic et manus adiuuat 

usum. 

Exercise in research regardless you grasped 

the art: 

Since with care the wit, and so the usage of 

the hand helps. 

If memory helps to retain what we 

have learnt or processed, repetition of the art 

keeps it alive. Oft times, we need to study 

something whilst we don’t understand very 

well the fundamentals of it; then, we get 

discouraged. However, persistence and wit 

is always with us as long as we are able and 

willing to develop them. Memorization 

must appear naturally and never forced to 

happen. It must be just a product of 

understanding and never of plain reiteration 

of words. One of the main pits into which 

the Freemason easily falls is repeating words 

without even understanding neither the 

meaning nor the essence of them—this is 

what I call the parrotization of Masonry. 

Memory is not memory unless it has a place 

in the understanding—otherwise it is just a 

robotic product of the mind. 

As a Mason you must be responsible, 

enthusiast within a limit, and full of energy 

always to help your fellow-humans. We 

must be observant of our environs, of what 

is going-on; striving to tolerate and 

understand. It is not—I must say—an easy 

task but it is, nevertheless, doable. The 

philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer (1788- 

1860), who had a very strong influence from 



the Buddhist philosophy, thought that when 

we are feeling downcast it is always 

refreshing to reflect on those who have less 

than we have and on those who suffer more 

than we do. This is true and real; it is not a 

fiction. On a daily basis we can find people 

who are suffering more than ourselves; 

people who are in a deeper need than 

ourselves; and this is exactly what Cato 

conveys with the following dictum: 

Dum fortuna tibist rerum discrimine praua, 

Alterius specta cui sit discrimine peior. 

As long as fortune for you is of the things 

with distinction bad, 

Of other observe for whom it be with 

distinction worse. 

Another interesting fact that 

Freemasonry and Stoicism share is the sense 

of learning from Life itself, and particularly 

from each one’s lives. This is singled out by 

Cato in the following sentence: 

Cum tibi contigerit studio cognoscere multa, 

Fac discas, multa a uita te scire doceri. 

Whereas to yourself with study you had 

attained to know earnestly, 

Grant you learned, to know to be taught 

earnestly from your life. 

To do this self-examination a Mason 

must have firstly learnt to submit him or 

herself to the Superior Powers; in this 

personal travel to Enlightenment, we must 

accept the Superior Decisions and with it 

comes humility and acceptance. Once these 

are implemented, a self-analysis comes

parallel to our search. Let us not forget that 

Freemasonry is a spiritual system with a 

moral foundation, and that the true 

Freemason is that who continuously is in a 

pilgrimage to Knowledge. Yet, knowledge 

is pain, and one must be prepared to that 

which we are about to learn. Miverva was 

the goddess of wisdom for the old Romans, 

but also she was the goddess of warring. 

This was so because for the ancients to go to 

know was as going to battle: one never knew 

what was going to be found. 

Athene, otherwise Minerva. Roman National 

Museum 1 . 

Under this view, knowledge is as 

dangerous as war—and the peripheral 

effects are exactly like in war. A man in 

search for knowledge might feel 

psychosomatic sensations which are just a 

product of that war: the war of knowledge. 

Yet again, the ancient Greeks had an 

1 http://www.theoi.com/Gallery/S8.5.html. 



inscription hewn at the Temple of Apollo: 

γνώθι σεαυτόν, that is, “know thyself.” This 

temple was located in the city of Delphi, and 

it was famous for giving away the most 

valued prophesies. 

To end, I partake of the wish that 

every Mason should always be just to 

himself and to those who are before him. 

For this task a long-life is spread ahead of 

us, and with it, the heavy-weight of thinking 

that we are masters and lords of our own 

destiny. May burn our mouth when we 

blamed God for our own prejudices and 

disgraces. May we not offend that superb 

goddess whose blindness is a sign of justice: 

Fortune. She is capricious but certainly 

misunderstood. And yet, she is an 

everlasting remainder of our mortal 

condition and that everything in this earth is 

just fading-away. As Cato says: 

Fortunae donis semper par esse 

memento: 

Non opibus bona uita datur, sed moribus 

ipsis. 

Remember to be equal always with the 

presents of Fortune: 

Not by influences the good life is given, 

but by manners themselves. 

Officers Of The Educational Lodge No. 1002 

A.F. & A.M. of Minnesota 

Master Bruce L. Sherman 

Senior Warden Richard Wallace 

Junior Warden John Besse 

Secretary Loren Davis 

Educational Lodge will publish papers which have 

been presented to the Lodge for discussion. Copies 

of these bulletins may be secured from the Secretary.


Dionysus Cato and Freemasonry

dionysus cato and freemasonry - The Grand Lodge of Minnesota

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