314
THE VARIETIES OF RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
properties of prophetism are perceptible only during the transport, by
those who embrace the Sufi life. The prophet is endowed with qualities
to which you possess nothing analogous, and which consequently you can-
not possibly understand. How should you know their true nature, since
one knows only what one can comprehend? But the transport which one
attains by the method of the Sufis is like an immediate perception, as if
one touched the objects with one’s hand.”
1
This incommunicableness of the transport is the keynote of
all mysticism. Mystical truth exists for the individual who has the
transport, but for no one else. In this, as I have said, it resembles
the knowledge given to us in sensations more than that given by
conceptual thought. Thought, with its remoteness and abstract-
ness, has often enough in the history of philosophy been contrasted
unfavorably with sensation. It is a commonplace of metaphysics
that God’s knowledge cannot be discursive but must be intuitive,
that is, must be constructed more after the pattern of what in
ourselves is called immediate feeling, than after that of proposi-
tion and judgment. But our immediate feelings have no content
but what the five senses supply; and we have seen and shall see
again that mystics may emphatically deny that the senses play any
part in the very highest type of knowledge which their transports
yield.
In the Christian church there have always been mystics. Although
many of them have been viewed with suspicion, some have gained
favor in the eyes of the authorities. The experiences of these have
been treated as precedents, and a codified system of mystical the-
ology has been based upon them, in which everything legitimate
finds its place.
2
The basis of the system is ‘orison’ or meditation, the
methodical elevation of the soul towards God. Through the practice
of orison the higher levels of mystical experience may be attained.
It is odd that Protestantism, especially evangelical Protestantism,
should seemingly have abandoned everything methodical in this line.
Apart from what prayer may lead to, Protestant mystical experience
1
A. S
CHMÖLDERS
: Essai sur les écoles philosophiques chez les Arabes, Paris, 1842,
pp. 54–68, abridged.
2
G
ÖRRES
’
S
Christliche Mystik gives a full account of the facts. So does R
IBET
’
S
Mystique
Divine, 2 vols., Paris, 1890. A still more methodical modern work is the Mystica Theologia
of V
ALLGORNERA
, 2 vols., Turin, 1890.
MYSTICISM
315
appears to have been almost exclusively sporadic. It has been left
to our mind-curers to reintroduce methodical meditation into our
religious life.
The first thing to be aimed at in orison is the mind’s detachment
from outer sensations, for these interfere with its concentration upon
ideal things. Such manuals as Saint Ignatius’s Spiritual Exercises
recommend the disciple to expel sensation by a graduated series of
efforts to imagine holy scenes. The acme of this kind of discipline
would be a semi-hallucinatory mono-ideism — an imaginary figure
of Christ, for example, coming fully to occupy the mind. Sensorial
images of this sort, whether literal or symbolic, play an enor-
mous part in mysticism.
1
But in certain cases imagery may fall away
entirely, and in the very highest raptures it tends to do so. The
state of consciousness becomes then insusceptible of any verbal
description. Mystical teachers are unanimous as to this. Saint John
of the Cross, for instance, one of the best of them, thus describes
the condition called the “union of love,” which, he says, is reached
by “dark contemplation.” In this the Deity compenetrates the soul,
but in such a hidden way that the soul —
“finds no terms, no means, no comparison whereby to render the sub-
limity of the wisdom and the delicacy of the spiritual feeling with which
she is filled. . . . We receive this mystical knowledge of God clothed in none
of the kinds of images, in none of the sensible representations, which our
mind makes use of in other circumstances. Accordingly in this knowledge,
since the senses and the imagination are not employed, we get neither
form nor impression, nor can we give any account or furnish any likeness,
although the mysterious and sweet-tasting wisdom comes home so clearly
to the inmost parts of our soul. Fancy a man seeing a certain kind of thing
for the first time in his life. He can understand it, use and enjoy it, but he
cannot apply a name to it, nor communicate any idea of it, even though
all the while it be a mere thing of sense. How much greater will be his
powerlessness when it goes beyond the senses! This is the peculiarity of
the divine language. The more infused, intimate, spiritual, and supersen-
sible it is, the more does it exceed the senses, both inner and outer, and
impose silence upon them. . . . The soul then feels as if placed in a vast
1
M. R
ÉCÉJAC
, in a recent volume, makes them essential. Mysticism he defines as “the
tendency to draw near to the Absolute morally, and by the aid of Symbols.’’ See his Fondements
de la Connaissance mystique, Paris, 1897, p. 66. But there are unquestionably mystical con-
ditions in which sensible symbols play no part.