of the Roman College of Architects, the
great order of Comacine Masters was founded upon its ruins, and
continued its tradition both of symbolism and of art. Returning to
Rome after the death of Diocletian, we find them busy there under
Constantine and Theodosius; and from remains recently brought to
knowledge it is plain that their style of building at that time was
very like that of the churches built at Hexham and York in England,
and those of the Ravenna, also nearly contemporary. They may not have
been actually called Free-masons as early as Leader Scott insists they
were,[65] but _they were free in fact_, traveling far and near where
there was work to do, following the missionaries of the Church as far
as England. When there was need for the name _Free-masons_, it was
easily suggested by the fact that the cathedral-builders were quite
distinct from the Guild-masons, the one being a universal order
whereas the other was local and restricted. Older than Guild-masonry,
the order of the cathedral-builders was more powerful, more artistic,
and, it may be added, more religious; and it is from this order that
the Masonry of today is descended.

Since the story of the Comacine Masters has come to light, no doubt
any longer remains that during the building period the order of Masons
was at the height of its influence and power. At that time the
building art stood above all other arts, and made the other arts bow
to it, commanding the services of the most brilliant intellects and
of the greatest artists of the age. Moreover, its symbols were wrought
into stone long before they were written on parchment, if indeed they
were ever recorded at all. Efforts have been made to rob those old
masters of their honor as the designers of the cathedrals, but it is
in vain.[66] Their monuments are enduring and still tell the story of
their genius and art. High upon the cathedrals they left cartoons in
stone, of which Findel gives a list,[67] portraying with searching
satire abuses current in the Church. Such figures and devices would
not have been tolerated but for the strength of the order, and not
even then had the Church known what they meant to the adepts.

History, like a mirage, lifts only a part of the past into view,
leaving much that we should like to know in oblivion. At this distance
the Middle Ages wear an aspect of smooth uniformity of faith and
opinion, but that is only one of the many illusions of time by which
we are d