Thus we get the temperamental symbolist, quietist, nature-mystic, or transcendentalist. We get Plotinus rapt to the “bare pure One”; St. Augustine’s impassioned communion with Perfect Beauty; Eckhart declaring his achievement of the “wilderness of God”; Jacopone da Todi prostrate in adoration before the “Love that gives all things form”; Ruysbroeck describing his achievement of “that wayless abyss of fathomless beatitude where the Trinity of divine persons possess their nature in the essential Unity;” Jacob Boehme gazing into the fire-world and there finding the living heart of the Universe; Kabir listening to the rhythmic music of Reality, and seeing the worlds told like beads within the Being of God. And at the opposite pole we find Mechthild of Madgeburg’s amorous conversations with her “heavenly Bridegroom,” the many mystical experiences connected with the Eucharist, the Sūfi’s enraptured description of God as the “Matchless Chalice and the Sovereign Wine,” the narrow intensity and emotional raptures of contemplatives of the type of Richard Rolle. We cannot refuse the title of mystic to any of these; because in every case their aim is union between God and the soul. This is the one essential of mysticism, and there are as many ways from one term to the other as there are variations in the spirit of man. But, on the other hand, when anybody speaking of mysticism proposes an object that is less than God—increase of knowledge, of health, of happiness, occultism, intercourse with spirits, supernormal experience in general—then we may begin to suspect that we are off the track.