So, also, the writer has neglected entirely those phases of Christian mysticism which have degenerated into magic rites and ascetic practices, so common in the Middle Ages; all efforts at making a theology and body of practical rules out of what is essentially spiritual, incommunicable, and not to be bound in narrow rules. Nor has any attempt been made to go into the remarkable efflorescence at the present time of those phases of transcendentalism, which have always existed side by side with the plain and simple experience of which we speak; that is, the various forms of spiritualism, clairvoyance and all other similar methods of communicating with the unseen world. Even the extensive investigations of the Society for Psychical Research have only been touched upon. It has long been the writer's feeling that, even for the soundest minds, there is danger of becoming unbalanced in lingering too long over these occult phases of our nature, in giving too much attention to the subliminal consciousness, and in turning too much away from the everyday consciousness. Another phase of the subject not discussed in this book, is that represented by a group of investigators, who look on all experiences of a transcendental nature as an evidence of insanity, or of a morbid pathological condition. Thus Troilo, in his "Misticismo Moderno," declares mysticism to be a dim reminiscence of the childhood of the race, a morbid atavistic survival, which must be entirely wiped out as the progress of civilization goes on. "Mysticism is not a prelude of the future, but an echo of the past; not a sunrise but a sunset." In reading the discussions of these men who would make all spiritual aspirations the morbid expression of a pathological state of mind, we cannot help feeling that the morbid element lies not so much in the thing itself, as in the eye that sees it. It is true that a vast amount of extravagance, exaggeration, and grotesque fancies have inundated the field of transcendentalism; it is true that nowhere else has there been so much meaningless language, monotonous repetition of conventional symbols, and empty ejaculations; that nowhere else is there so much danger of losing sight of common-sense and reason, of being carried away by spiritual pride and indifference to the world; in short nowhere else is there so much need of the prayer addressed to the Virgin Mary by St. Bernard in favor of Dante, just before the great vision was vouchsafed him; Ancor ti prego, Regina che puoi Ciò che tu vuoli, che conservi sani, Vinca tua guardia i movimenti umani.1 Yet in spite of all this Charles Kingsley is nearer to the truth than Nordau, Lombroso and Troilo, when he declares that if we examine patiently, charitably and philosophically what the saints and mystics really were and what they were not, we should find that in them, after all bodily illusions, all pardonable confusions between the object and the 1 This yet, I pray thee, Queen, Who canst do what thou wilt; that in him thou Par. XXXIII, 34. subject had been eliminated, there still remained in each and every one of them, and not to be explained away by any theory of diseased body or mind, one of the very loveliest and noblest human characteristics. "And on that discovery," he continues, "the question must have followed-was that too the product of disease? And to that there can be, I trust, but one answer from the many. If here and there a man shall be found daring enough to assert that the most exquisite development of humanity is grounded on a lie; that its seemingly loveliest flowers are but fungi bred of corruption, then the general heart of mankind will give their cynicism the lie and answer: Not so! this is too beautiful and too righteous to have been born of aught but God.'" The subject, then, treated in this book is neither esoteric, nor morbid, nor pathological, but those experiences that come from time to time to all men, which are in their essence wholesome and fraught wth blessing to the individual as well as to humanity at large. It is better not to dwell too much upon them, not to analyze them too closely, especially not to seek after them by artificial means; but to live our lives in the sunlit, everyday world, strong for the right, kind and gentle to our fellow men, and ministering to their pains; yet sensitive to all influences and presences from the spirit world. And when the breeze of heaven swells our sails and drives our bark toward the Blessed Isles, ever ready with change of wind and tide, to return to the world of human loves and human duties— "Far off the spell-doomed world withdrawn the while, Looms like a dim-seen land through dazzling mist; And lips like those our childhood fancy kissed, |