I am not interested in mysticism as an _ism_. It turns out in most accounts to be a dry and abstract thing, hardly more like the warm and intimate experience than the color of a map is like the country for which it stands. “Canada is very pink,” seems quite an inadequate description of the noble country north of our border. It is mystical experience and not mysticism that is worthy of our study. We are concerned with the experience itself, not with second-hand formulations of it. “The mystic,” says Professor Royce, “is a thorough-going empiricist;” “God ceases to be an object and becomes an experience,” says Professor Pringle-Pattison. If it is an experience we want to find out what happens to the mystic himself inside where he lives. According to those who have been there the experience which we call mystical is charged with the conviction of real, direct contact and commerce with God. It is the almost universal testimony of those who are mystics that they find God through their experience. John Tauler says that in his best moments of “devout prayer and the uplifting of the mind to God,” he experiences “the pure presence of God in his own soul,” but he adds that all he can tell others about the experience is “as poor and unlike it as the point of a needle is to the heavens above us.” “I have met with my God; I have met with my Savior. I have felt the healings drop upon my soul from under His wings,” says Isaac Penington in the joy of his first mystical experience. Without needlessly multiplying such testimonies for data, we can say with considerable assurance that mystical experience is consciousness of direct and immediate relationship with some transcendent reality which in the moment of experience is believed to be God. “This is He, this is He,” exclaims Isaac Penington, “there is no other: This is He whom I have waited for and sought after from my childhood.” Angela of Foligno says that she experienced God, and saw that the whole world was full of God. II