Hours with the Mystics: A Contribution to the History of Religious OpinionVaughan, Robert Alfred
Religion
Hours with the Mystics: A Contribution to the History of Religious Opinion
Vaughan, Robert Alfred
Mysticism -- History
‘Divination,’ saith Bacon, ‘is of two kinds—primitive, and by
influxion.’ The former is founded on the belief that the soul, when by
abstinence and observances it has been purified and concentrated, has ‘a
certain extent and latitude of pre-notion.’ The latter is grounded on
the persuasion that the foreknowledge of God and of spirits may be
infused into the soul when rendered duly passive and mirror-like. Of
these two kinds of divining the former is characterized by repose and
quiet, the latter by a fervency and elevation such as the ancients
styled _furor_. Now our mystical divines have this in common with the
diviners, that they chiefly aim to withdraw the soul within itself. They
may be divided most appropriately after a like manner. A cursory
inspection will satisfy any one that theopathetic mysticism branches
into two distinct, and often contrasted, species. There is the serene
and contemplative mysticism; and over against it, the tempestuous and
the active. The former is comparatively self-contained and intransitive;
the latter, emphatically transitive. Its subject conceives himself
mastered by a divine seizure. Emotions well-nigh past the strain of
humanity, make the chest to heave, the frame to tremble; cast the man
down, convulsed, upon the earth. Or visions that will not pass away,
burn into his soul their glories and their terrors. Or words that will
not be kept down, force an articulation, with quaking and with spasms,
from organs no longer under his control. The contemplative mystic has
most commonly loved best that side of Christian truth which is nearest
to Platonism; the enthusiastic or practical mystic, that which connects
it with Judaism. The former hopes to realize within himself the highest
ascents of faith and hope—nay, haply, to surpass them, even while here
below. The latter comes forth from his solitude, with warning,
apocalyptic voice, to shake a sleeping Church. He has a word from the
Lord that burns as a fire in his bones till it be spoken. He lifts up
his voice, and cries, exhorting, commanding, or foretelling, with the
authority of inspiration.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account