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PatHways OF PHILOSOPHY
 Digitized by the Internet Archive
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 eA AT Dp rT
GEORGE :
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PATHWAYS
OF
PHILOSOPHY
By MANLY PALMER HALL

SuBscrIBER’s EDITION

PorTRAIT ILLUSTRATIONS BY
K, ALEXANDER

PHILOSOPHICAL RESEARCH SOCIETY

3341 GrirrirH Park BouLevarp — Los ANGELES 27, CALIF.
 Copyright 1947
By MANLY PALMER HALL
for permission to copy or translate,
address the author.
 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY
is dedicated by the author
to Mary S. Young
as an expression of deep appreciation
and esteem.
 Gontents

PAcE
Ae PREPACE ABOUT PRINCIPLES oo) 11

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NEOPLATONIC METAPHYSICS

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SCHOLASTICISM

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Albertus Magnus, Doctor Universalis Ree 43
Thomas of Aquino, Doctor Angelicus ..._........ 48
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Tes) aerirl easects eee ee a Pe eee 56
The Principal Teachings of St. Thomas Aquinas ._.. 60
ThemAdventeoy HIUManisi te ee ye A 64
 3
NEOPLATONISTS OF THE RENAISSANCE
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Paracelsus, the Saiss Hermes. 2) ee 72
Paracelsian =Philosophyss. ee ee 83
Magnetic: Philosophy = ee 88
Spitttial “Alchemy. 2a.5e gee ee 93
The Sabmundanes 2:4. 2a eee 95

THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING

FRaNcis" BACON. <( 05) Ss 7a eee 100
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The New Instrument of Knowledge._-____- 118
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Bacon, the Neoplatonist____. ORT Mapete SPE 126
Diverary ow ithin” Oni ee 129

5
THE MYSTICAL TRADITION

Jaxos BorHME, THE TEUTONIC THEOSOPHER 131

The Flash oj, Divine Lightnings= ee 133
The: Mysterium \Maonum ae eae 149
The: Fall. of. Lucifer 220 ses eee 151
The Mystical Union with Chir.) ee 153
Baron Emanuel: Swedenborp See ee 156
Andrew Jackson Davis, the Seer of Poughkeepsie. 159
 6
THE MESSIAH OF PURE REASON
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EMER RIES Of ML Duly ee te ony 1) 181
PAB Ord ui dmried OSCTIOI sek wet 188

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Rate Wa.tpo EMERSON, THE SAGE OF CONCORD... 191

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 PORTRAIT ILLUSTRATIONS

Factnc PacE

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ee es 191
Make PuitosopHy THy JOURNEY

Francis Quarles (1592—1644)

 A PREFACE ABOUT PRINCIPLES

Under the title Pathways of Philosophy we are issuing the

second volume of our survey of Neoplatonism. The first
part of this work Journey in Truth appeared two years ago.
In times of unusual stress, those of thoughtful mind are
impelled by the requirements of their own natures and by
the pressure of outer circumstances to seek broader and
deeper philosophical foundations. Without breadth and depth
of internal convictions it is impossible to maintain that se-
renity of consciousness essential to enlightened living.
Neoplatonism is an idealistic and mystical philosophy,
founded upon the doctrines of Plato and his legitimate
disciples, and dedicated to the practice of the philosophic
life. True learning is not merely the enlargement of the in-
tellect; it is a discipline of conduct—a way of life leading to
establishment in imperishable principles.
If we dwell forever in a sphere of effects, content to en-
dure without question the vicissitudes of outrageous fortune,
we must suffer the consequences inevitable to this state. There
can be no improvement in our condition apart from the im-
provement within ourselves. Nature has bestowed upon us
the means by which we can rescue our lives from the delu-
sions of materialism. If we use these means according to
the laws governing them, we fulfill the real purpose of our
living.

11
12 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

There are eternal and unchangeable principles in the

world of causes. We must learn to know them, love them,
and obey them, for herein lies our hope of security.
The six portraits which illustrate this work are based upon
early engravings and paintings with the exception of Emerson,
whose life extended into the era of photography. We have
not been satisfied merely to delineate features, but have
sought to vitalize the faces of these men with the light of
their teachings. K. Alexander has been faithful not only to
the line, but has also captured something of the spirit.
We are inclined to think of those great and good as re-
mote and superior, detached by lofty thoughts from the
habits of ordinary mortals. We shall understand them bet-
ter when we realize that they were real persons, who have
earned the love and gratitude of mankind because they gave
of themselves generously and courageously.
Life will be richer and better for all of us if we will make
a journey in truth along quiet pathways of philosophy.

Manty Parmer Hat

Los Angeles, California. November 1, 1947.
 NEOPLATONIC METAPHYSICS

KNOWLEDGE AND OPINION

wees considering the descent of the Neoplatonic tradi-

tion the intellect is forced to cope with an important
distinction in viewpoint. The intellectual side of philosophy
leads to the perfection of reason, while the mystical side
leads to the perfection of faith. In the end faith and reason
must be reconciled. Reason leads the mind toward a scientific
viewpoint; mysticism toward a theological viewpoint. These
modes of thinking have been in conflict since man first pon-
dered the mystery of himself.
Curiously, neither Plato nor Aristotle used any term or
word for what we call consciousness. To be conscious is to
be aware of self, with the ability to contemplate the existence
and condition of the sensations, emotions, mental processes,
and physical state of the se/f as distinguished from other selves.
To the mystic, consciousness is an attribute or manifesta-
tion of the spirit or the soul. To the materialist, consciousness
is the testimony of the intellect dependent upon physical
existence, and is the source of physical as well as psychical
phenomena.

13
14 PaTHWAYs OF PHILOSOPHY

To a Neoplatonist, consciousness is the state of knowing as

differentiated from opinion. To dwell in the security of fact
is to be conscious, but to abide in the insecurity of opinion
and sensation is to be unconscious in the true sense of the
word. As Huxley pointed out, there can be no sufficient
foundation for the perfection of the sciences until the true
nature of consciousness has been discovered.
Plotinus, the Neoplatonic philosopher, wrote a letter to
Flaccus, a student of wisdom, about the year A. D. 260. He
opened the epistle thus: “I applaud your devotion to philos-
ophy; I rejoice to hear that your soul has set sail, like the
returning Ulysses, for its native land—that glorious, that
only real country—the world of unseen truth.... This region
of truth is not to be investigated as a thing external to us,
and so imperfectly known. It is within us.... Consciousness,
therefore, is the sole basis of certainty.”
The same letter includes an important definition: “Knowl-
edge has three degrees—Opinion, Science, Illumination. The
means or instrument of the first is sense; of the second,
dialectic; of the third, intuition.” From this definition the
Neoplatonist established an ascending order of perception as
follows:
Opinion is the lowest form of mental activity. It is the
acceptance of appearance without question; the mental reac-
tion to sensation without judgment. Opinion was defined by
Heraclitus as a falling sickness of the reason.
The term dialectic, the instrument of science, was defined
by Plato as discussion by dialogue as a method of scientific
investigation, and by Aristotle as the method of arguing with
probability and defending a tenet without inconsistency. It
is, therefore, a means of thinking, based not upon fact, but
seeking to establish fact by judgment.
 NeEopLatonic METAPHYSICS 15

[lumination in the Neoplatonic sense is a spiritual mys-

tery, the blessed state of the repose of consciousness in the
substance of fact. This state is superior to reason and may
be attained by intuition alone.
As the foundations of the sciences became more and more
dialectic, the intuitional method was almost completely dis-
carded in favor of analysis. Intuition then became an in-
strument of speculative philosophy. But with the rise of
Aristotelianism it lost favor even with the abstract intellec-
tuals. Finding no room among the philosophers, intuition
sought refuge with theology. It fared better there, but its
broader aspect was stifled by dogma. The final champions of
intuition were the mystics (spiritual seekers after the secrets
£ God) who dwelt outside the pale of academic respectability.
Intuition is the immediate apprehension of the nature or
substance of a thing attained without recourse to the ma-
chinery of judgment or analysis. It is the powcr of direct
knowledge. It was rejected by the sciences because it was
uncontrollable and unpredictable. There was no way in
which it could be standardized. Because intuition often dealt
with intangibles its findings could not always be checked,
and it was regarded as a dangerous cause of menial vagary.
Armed with reason and enriched with the Aristotelian
method, the intellectual world set out to conquer time and
space. But reason per se is limited by the reasonable, and the
reasonable in turn is limited by the reason. The result is a
vicious circle. It would be wrong to discount the accomplish-
ments attained by the sciences with their dialectic method,
but it is equally absurd to regard their findings as entirely
satisfactory.
Twenty-five centuries of dialectics have resulted in the
setting up of hundreds of systems of highly specialized
16 PaTHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

opinionism. There are answers for every question that can

be asked by a thoughtful person. The trouble is that there
are many conflicting answers for each question. You may
have your choice; you may cling to Aristotle, or perhaps you
might prefer Leibnitz. If neither is satisfactory there is al-
ways Hegel, Fichte, Schelling, Descartes, or Nietzsche. But
these gentlemen also can prove wearisome, and a variety of
theologies may have fascination. The theologians are a dis-
putatious lot, and if you grow tired of their wranglings there
are unorthodox sects to invite your consideration. All else
failing, you can become hopelessly disillusioned, or turn to
the Asiatics for solace.
This decision is difficult. Each school is full of promises,
but most of the promises are not kept. Once you accept a
school and develop an appropriate devotion for its teachings,
the rest is easy. You become a devotee, and it is easy to prove
anything you are willing to accept. You become learned, if
not wise, and may gain considerable reputation for your skill
in argument and persuasion. But first you must accept as a
fact something that you cannot prove as a fact. In this deci-
sion only intuition can guide you.
All great philosophies must deal with the problem of
God; even the materialists cannot escape this dilemma. Deity
has been the subject of innumerable discussions, both learned
and unlearned. For the most part these discussions have
been fruitless and have led from argument to open conflict.
It would be pleasant to ignore God and limit the discussions
to practical problems of morality and ethics, but how can we
classify secondary causes without knowledge of First Cause?
How can life be purposeful until the purpose of life is
understood?
 Neopiatonic METAPHYSICS 17

Faith has been defined as an infinite capacity to believe,

and as such it is equally applicable in the spheres of science,
philosophy, and theology. The lack of faith is also a belief,
in which the mind hopefully postulates negation with the
same fervor with which it postulates the reality of a saving
grace. Atheism is as truly a faith as theism.
It is customary to hold that the nature of First Cause is
unknowable, but there has been no lack of theories on the
subject. These theories sustain massive superstructures which
unfortunately are no stronger than their basic hypotheses.
Yet there is no doctrine so feeble that it cannot find cham-
pions who will defend by oratory that which they cannot
prove by reason.

Neoplatonic Concepts

Neoplatonism refused to accept defeat in its search for

truth. There must be some means by which man may dis-
cover the realities necessary to his own spiritual survival.
Eternal Providence in its wisdom has not left humanity
destitute of formal truth. If the mind cannot attain the real,
it is useless to force the issue in the sphere of the intellect.
There is within man a power, greater than the mind, which
sustains both the intellect and the senses. It is this power
that must be the link between the human creature and the
Infinite which is the common cause of all life.
All knowledge fails if it does not lead to truth; all living
fails unless through it man can discover life. The supreme
art is the art of self-knowing, which leads to universal know-
ing. This is no matter for schools or sects. Many may share
in the search, but each must discover for himself and within
himself. There is no royal road to learning, to paraphrase
what Euclid once told the King of Egypt.
18 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

Faith is not merely a static belief in the reality of a uni-

versal good. It is a dynamic state of consciousness; the proper
means of attaining an inward knowledge of God and nature.
We are inclined to think of faith as the acceptance by our-
selves of the teachings of some other person. This viewpoint
has dominated the Christian world, which holds that there
is special merit in mere agreement with the jot and tittle of
the orthodox canon.
If man can ascend from opinion to science by putting his
mental processes in order, can he not ascend from science to
illumination through a gradual process of intellectual refine-
ment? Ignorance is the absence of the knowledge of causes;
science is the knowledge of secondary causes, and illumina-
tion is the knowledge of First Cause. By this process of reason-
ing it is possible to extend the consciousness beyond the
limitation imposed by the dialectic process.
Plotinus said, “Reason sees in itself that which is above
itself as its source.” By this definition Neoplatonism affirms
that it is possible for the intellect to grasp in part the implica-
tion of something beyond itself. Probably this is the highest
power of the mind. Like Moses of old, the mind can see
the Promised Land but cannot enter it. And like Moses it
must come to a lonely death among the hills of Moab that
guard the threshold of a better world.
Perchance the supreme duty of the reasoning power is to
undo its own mischief and reason man out of the limications
of reasonableness itself. The Neoplatonists experienced a
mystery of this kind. While in contemplation, something
happened that could neither be explained nor properly com-
municated. There were rare and beautiful moments when
the thinker and his thoughts were one. In such an instant
the universe unfolded before some inner eye. There was a
 Neoptatonic METAPHYSICS 19

complete realization of knowing, doubts ended in certainties,

and the power of God filled the mind with an ecstatic beauty.
Faith led to illumination, and illumination ended in a per-
fectly justified faith. Then the experience was gone, the
heavens closed as strangely as they had opened, the sense of
vastness diminished, and the thinker was again locked inside
the narrow walls of his own thoughts.
Although the mystical experience lasted only an instant,
its effect endured throughout life. Every part of the being
testified to the reality of this extension of spiritual power. A
certainty was set up in the center of the self, and this strength
transformed the human being into what the Greeks called a
Hero. All questions were answered; all doubts were solved
by this fleeting glimpse of eternal values.
The majority of Neoplatonists were men of outstanding
intellect. They examined the circumstances involved in the
mystical experience in so far as these circumstances were
susceptible of analysis. They learned that the mystical experi-
ence was most likely to come to idealists who were conse-
crated to the love of God, the service of beauty, and the
practice of charitable works. The direct cause of illumina-
tion, therefore, was a spiritual way of life.
Following this thought to its reasonable conclusion they
were able to define philosophy as not only an intellectual
exercise but as a way of living. Philosophy was dependent
upon the philosopher. If his deportment was inconsistent
with the laws of life his intellectual labors were in vain. This
was the reason for setting up the philosophical discipline.
The intellect must be freed from the burden of nonessentials.
All destructive thoughts must be overcome. The universe
dwelt in a condition of eternal peace. Man must bring
himself to the same condition if he would experience the
20 PatHways oF PHILOSOPHY

mystical union. The proud and the worldly-wise had no

stillness in themselves. Burdened with their own conceits,
it was not possible for them to know the gentleness of the
spirit. Hence all allegiance to confusion was detrimental to
true insight.
But the Neoplatonists did not share the views of some sects
that all learning was dangerous and that Deity was particu-
larly lenient toward the uninformed. Philosophy was a
moral discipline for the realization of calmness and peace.
Through learning, the mind came to be content with stillness
and repose. True learning brought dissension to an end.
This was its special purpose. When wisdom ended fear it
removed the internal obstacle to tranquillity. When reason
terminated selfishness and avarice man’s inner calm increased
and he was fitted for mystical experience.
To quote again from the letter of Plotinus: “You ask how
we can know the Infinite? I answer, not by reason. It is the
office of reason to distinguish and define. The Infinite, there-
fore, cannot be ranked among its objects. You can only
apprehend the Infinite by a faculty superior to reason, by
entering into a state in which you are your finite self no
longer, in which the Divine Essence is communicated to you.
This is ecstasy. It is liberation of your mind frorn its finite
consciousness. Like only can apprehend like; when you thus
cease to be finite, you become one with the Infinite.”
It would be difficult to discover a more complete exposi-
tion of the mystical formula. It is surprising, therefore, that
philosophical mysticism has not exercised a larger influence
in the molding of our cultural life. The only explanation is
that which we have already given in Volume I of this
work. The mere contemplation of mystical fact is beyond
the experience limitation of the average individual. He does
 NeopLatonic METAPHYSICS 21

not attempt union with First Cause because he does not realize
the significance of such a union. Man strives only after that
which he regards as necessary. None but the enlightened
thinker has found illumination necessary to the perfection of
his own life and the security of world-civilization.
The classical thinkers observed that the material sphere
exercises an hypnotic influence on the souls enmeshed in its
substances. A lassitude attacks the inner perceptions, dulling
their power and resulting in patience and resignation to the
pressure of circumstances. Human beings become like herds
of animals roaming about the earth in search of favorable
pastures. For such as these, life is important only in terms
of creature comforts. But they seek in vain, for there will be
no solution to the physical problems of the human race until
the lethargy of the soul is overcome by philosophical dis-
cipline.
If man were by nature a creature of the earth, the earth
could satisfy him. But he is a creature of heaven, his soul
originating among the stars. Even in his ignorance he
aspires to a state of being which the earth cannot bestow.
All of his questions are asked here, but the answers lie
elsewhere. Personal problems bear witness to universal
principles, and personal happiness requires universal adjust-
ments for its attainment.
It is obvious that such speculations are reserved for the
philosophic elect, and are meaningless to the masses. For
this reason the initiates of the Mysteries were called shepherds.
They were the keepers of the flocks that grazed on the
green slopes of Olympus, unaware of the temple on the
farther peak. The psychopomps (soul conductors) guarded
the herds of souls that flowed into the material world from
the ethers of space. Only these leaders knew the way of the
22 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

gods, which they had discovered through purification and

contemplation.
The Neoplatonists described their mystical exaltation as a
participation in the Universal Identity. Of this ineffable state
Plotinus wrote: “But this sublime condition is not of perma-
nent duration. It is only now and then that we can enjoy
this elevation (mercifully made possible for us) above the
limits of the body and the world. I myself have realized it
but three times as yet, and Porphyry hitherto not once. All
that tends to purify and elevate the mind will assist you in
this attainment, and facilitate the approach and the recurrence
of these happy intervals. There are, then, different roads by
which this end may be reached. The love of beauty which
exalts the poet; that devotion to the One and that ascent of
science which makes the ambition of the philosopher; and
that love and those prayers by which some devout and ardent
soul tends in its moral purity towards perfection. These are
the great highways conducting to that height above the actual
and the particular where we stand in the immediate presence
of the Infinite, who shines out as from the depth of the
soul.”

The Mystical Experience

Here Plotinus emphasizes two important points. First,

the mystical experience cannot be summoned or demanded
by the intellect, but must be bestowed by the gods. This
thought could easily be misunderstood by the uninformed
as being contrary to the law of cause and effect, which
operates according to merit alone. But there is no real
contradiction. The term God, or Providence, or Divine
Will, means the perfect working of universal law. It is
not that the law is eccentric, but that man is incapable of
 NEopLaTonic METAPHYSICS 23

accurately estimating the degree of his own adjustment

with the pattern of the world soul.
It is quite natural that the sincere student who prac-
tices the virtues of philosophy to the best of his understand-
ing should expect to be rewarded by extension of conscious-
ness. If this extension does not come when and as he
believes it should come, he is inclined to feel that the gods
are withholding that which is rightfully his. But how can
man know his own spiritual progress, and what right has
he to pass judgment upon the unknown? Illumination
comes not when it is expected, but when the human soul is
ready to receive it. No man knows the hour when the Lord
of Light will come, nor should this be of particular concern.
The duty of the disciple is to prepare himself, and abide in
the simple faith that the universe will fulfill its work.
The second point which Plotinus indicates is the diversity
of means by which the unity of ends may be accomplished.
Mysticism is not dependent upon any particular discipline,
because the end to be attained is not a particular. All self-
discipline leads toward the reasonable end of discipline—
enlightenment. Perhaps it will be well to consider the term
discipline as it is used in the Neoplatonic system.
We are inclined to think of discipline as the exercise of
the will over behavior. The term is loaded with the implica-
tion of self-control and the inhibition of violent extremes of
temperament. But this is not the philosophical meaning of
the word. Rather it means the successive stages of enlighten-
ment releasing successive degrees of human integrity. Disci-
pline is release—not control.
For an example, let us take the problem of virtue. What
does the word mean? Each individual will have a different
definition according to his own experience and the environ-
24 PatHways oF PHILOSOPHY

ment in which he lives. If a man should say to us “Be virtu-

ous” he confronts our minds with an abstraction beyond
human comprehension. If we attempt to obey this indefinite
order it is likely that we shall endeavor to correct a variety
of general faults by imposing upon them the inhibiting
power of will-conviction. In the end we become neurotic
rather than virtuous.
Neoplatonic discipline is an adventure toward the dis-
covery of the one, the beautiful, and the good in all things.
The illusion of diversity is overcome by the realization of
unity or oneness. The illusion of disorder is overcome by
the realization of beauty. The illusion of evil is overcome
by the realization of good. We grow by expanding our
perceptive and reflective faculties toward the divine in all
nature and things. This is the true mystical discipline. We
possess the power to discover that which we sincerely desire.
The right desire is therefore most important.
It is not dificult to understand why the mystical experi-
ence is not common among the scientists and scholars of
today. They have no spiritual desire, only an academic in-
quisitiveness. Certainly they want to know the answers to
their questions, but they have no deep and abiding love for
either the subject or the object of their search. They would
find unity by increasing the illusion of diversity. They would
discover the one by continually breaking it up into smaller
and more numerous parts.
There can be no mysticism without love. In The Benquet
Plato defines love as the child of poverty and plenty. When
man turns his affections toward God he becomes aware of
a twofold mystery; first, the poverty in himself, and second,
the plentitude in God. This realization is one of the first of
the mystical experiences that can come to man.
 Neopiatonic METApHysics 25

Love, Neoplatonically defined, is the natural emotion of

man to man, and of all men to God. Human love is based
on the dependence of one person upon another, and divine
love is the dependence of all creatures upon their Heavenly
Father. There can be no true religion without love, which
St. Paul tells us “suffereth long and is kind.”
The power of love originates in the sympathy which
exists between similars throughout nature. The soul is the
throne of love. A part of the world soul abides in every
creature. The natural motion of the parts is due to their
desire for wholeness; they long to be restored to the world
soul from which they came. This longing is aspiration,
which is the impulse behind all growth. The realization of
the love of God in the abstract is impossible without the
realization of the love of our fellow creatures in the parti-
culars of daily living. Through the lesser experience we
partake of the greater mystery.

Dionysius Areopagiticus

The effect of Neoplatonism upon the early Christian

Church was deep and lasting. Consider the case of Dionysius
Areopagiticus, one of the Athenians who listened to the
preaching of St. Paul at the Hill of Mars. Very little is
known about Dionysius except that Eusebius credits him with
being the first bishop of Athens. About the middle of the
4th century four books and a number of letters were cir-
culated under the name of Dionysius the Areopagite. The
most famous of these writings is titled On Mystic Theology.
The true author of these works is unknown, but it is usual
to refer to him as the pseudo-Dionysius. This phantom
philosopher was evidently a man of outstanding intellectual
26 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

attainments. He has blended together into a beautiful and

inspiring system the Christian, Jewish, Oriental, and Classical
Greek learning. The framework is typically Neoplatonic,
and while Christian terms replace the old pagan categories,
the principles involved remain practically unchanged.
In the Dionysian writings three hierarchies of celestial
beings surround the throne of the triune God. The first
hierarchy consists of the Seraphim, the Cherubim, and the
Thrones. These exalted creatures stand in the presence of
the Divine Glory and reflect its light upon the second hier-
archy. This consists of the Dominations, Virtues, and
Powers. These great orders of life reflect their powers
downward to the third hierarchy, which is composed of the
Principalities, Archangels, and Angels. The third group is
concerned principally with the needs of humanity, and is
the particular ruler of the mundane sphere.
The celestial hierarchy is reflected upon the earth as the
ecclesiastical hierarchy, which is founded in Jesus and de-
scends through the sacraments to the officers of the Church.
In this arrangement the third hierarchy is made up of the
monks, whose duty it is to minister to the needs of the
uninitiated laity.
About the year A. D. 847 the books of the pseudo-Diony-
sius came into prominence in Europe when the Byzantine
Emperor, Michael the Stammerer, sent copies of some of them
to the French King, Louis the Pious. From that time on
their influence increased, and was strongly apparent in the
works of Albertus Magnus and St. Thomas Aquinas. Those
who would more fully understand this system will find it
beautifully set out in the cosmic poems of Dante and Milton.
The cantos of these two poets can be understood only by
those acquainted with the Neoplatonic system.
 NeEop.tatonic METAPHYSICS 27

The Neoplatonists have been condemned for their specula-

tions in magic and theurgy, but the criticisms have come
from persons not in sympathy with the mystical tradition.
The magic of the Alexandrian mystics was not a vulgar
sorcery devoted to the conjuring up of evil spirits and
demons. It was the magic of love and the power of the
spirit over the ordinary works of man. Dante represents the
hierarchies as throned upon the petals of a great rose, a
symbol of love and beauty. In all of their philosophy the
Neoplatonists emphasize the mystical devotion by which the
human soul finds union with the rose of heaven.
Again the rose appears, this time crucified on the cross
of the Rosicrucians, thus linking this society with the cult of
mystical adoration. So deeply was Dante influenced by the
power of symbols that he could not look upon a rose grewing
by the roadside without passing into a state of ecstasy. Some
of the esoteric schools of Asia use the lotus to convey the
same mystical symbolism, and it appears in the religious art
of nearly all Oriental peoples.

The Troubadours

The name troubadour is now applied to persons of senti-

mental mind who compose trivial verse and songs for roman-
tic purposes. Few realize the depth or importance of this
movement which was such a force in the medieval period
of European history. The word troubadour is derived from
the Provencal verb trobar, which means to find. The fol-
lowers of this cult belonged to the orders of The Quest. The
society was not large, numbering only about four hundred
important members. It flourished from the 12th to the 14th
century, and was finally destroyed by the Church as heretical.
28 Patuways oF PHILosopHY

The Troubadours catered to the artistic whims of kings

and princes, and were allowed extraordinary privileges. To
all appearances they were strolling minstrels who composed
songs for a fee, and entertained at fetes and banquets. The
itinerant poet often traveled alone, but sometimes he was
accompanied by a jongleur who acted as servant, and filled
the gaps in his master’s program.
The Troubadours were party to most of the secrets and
intrigues of the European courts. It was not uncommon for
them to step out of their roles as entertainers to take part in
learned discourses and political councils. They alone could
contradict the king, ridicule the nobles, and attack the policies
of their time. Like the court jester they were immune from
all punishment, and might behave as they pleased.
Behind their gaudy costumes and gilded lutes the Trouba-
dours were dedicated to a serious purpose. They were weary
of a religion of sorrow and pain, and were resolved to bring
back the happy pagan days of song and laughter. They
were mystics determined to bring a religion of love to man-
kind. To them love was not merely a sentimental emotion,
but a power from God which could be perfected by art and
science. Bound together by secret oaths, sworn to the defense
and protection of each other, they preserved Neoplatonic
mysticism through the troublous times of the medieval period.
Possibly the minstrels received inspiration from the Sufi
mystics of Arabia, whose verdant and extravagant verse con-
cealed a doctrine of strange austerity. Under an apparently
utterly sensuous symbolism these mystics of the Near East,
like Omar Khayyam, taught a pure and lofty idealism entirely
meaningless to the vulgar.
The most important literary relic of the Troubadours is
Roman de la Rose. The first part was written about A: D.
 Neopiatonic METAPpHysIcs 29

1230 by Guillaume de Lorris, and the poem was completed

forty years later by Jean de Meung. By reading between the
lines one may learn a great deal about the secret society of the
singers. The order was divided into seven degrees, and those
of the highest degrees were called the Masters of Love. The
poem also described a castle surrounded by a sevenfold wall.
The wall was covered with strange emblems and figures, and
only those who could explain the symbols were admitted to
the inner house. The brothers had secret signs of recognition,
and their organization prepared the way for Masonic orders
of the modern world.
The Troubadours were also called minstrels, and for a
very special reason. The word means minister, and this
indicates that the singers were the priests of a secret worship.
There were secret lodges of the order which were called
Courts of Love. These did not house frivolous or immoral
assemblages, but were places of ceremony and initiation into
the pagan Mysteries. It is also likely that broad political and
cultural issues were debated in these courts.
When a Troubadour composed a song for some important
occasion he always addressed it to a beautiful and mysterious
lady, but he would never reveal the name of the mistress of
his verses. If asked, he remained silent. If a minstrel were
engaged by a proud nobleman who lacked the vocal. equip-
ment to serenade his sweetheart, a suitable song was com-
posed on the spot. Apparently it praised the beauty and
virtue of the damsel who listened behind the drapes of her
window. Everyone was pleased, and the singer received a
generous fee, but as one of the Troubadours, Hugo de Brunet,
explained, “I pretend that my song is for a mortal woman,
but it is nothing of the kind.”
30 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

As the alchemists were addicted to the seeming madness

of goldmaking, so the Troubadours liked to be considered
absorbed in their mortal passions. In both cases it was pro-
tection, but the Troubadours did not succeed in deceiving the
ecclesiastical courts and were finally destroyed by the Inquisi-
tion.
Like the Beatrice of Dante, the mistress of the Trouba-
dours was the symbol of sacred love, and personified pure
wisdom as did the Virgin Sophia. The symbolism was
borrowed from the Gnostics, and many of the attributes of
Sophia were later embodied in the character of the Virgin
Mary.
This digression will help to show the power of Neo-
platonism in the molding of our modern religious viewpoint.
There is no real break in the descent of the mystical tradi-
tion from the Orphics to Ralph Waldo Emerson. The form
is forever changing, but the spirit is always the same. Re-
move Neoplatonism from our present systems of religion
and most of the beauty and dignity that we cherish will
vanish.
The orders of Chivalry were courts of love and honor. The
Grail cycle belongs to the same descent. The great operas
Parsifal, Lohengrin, and Tannhauser, are dramatic presenta-
tions of Neoplatonic mysticism. While these stories are Chris-
tian in their treatment, they are pagan in their ideas.
Francis Bacon played his part in the Court of the Muses
on Mt. Parnassus. He was grand master of the Singers of
Sweet Songs. As Chancellor of Parnassus, he ruled over the
invisible empire of the poets and dreamers who served the
God Apollo. Let us examine into the symbolism of the
invisible empire in terms of the old philosophy.
 Neopiatonic METAPHYSICS 31

Each man has two lives; an outer life lived in the world
of men, and an inner life hidden from the common sight.
Outwardly we must conform to the derelictions of our day.
We must ply our trades and carry on the business of our
world. We must struggle against the unreasonable ambitions
of other men, and accept with patience both praise and
ridicule. To those who are sensitive and by nature gentle,
the weight of worldliness is a heavy affliction to the spirit.
So when opportunity affords we fly to solitude, seeking
within ourselves that peace and quiet which does not exist
in human society.
Each man has his secret garden like the Rose Garden of
Saadi. In this garden grows the tree of the soul, bearing
flowers of exquisite beauty. This garden of the inner life
is an oasis of fulfillment in a desert of waiting.
Bacon once wrote an essay on gardens, which is some-
times referred to in works on horticulture. Few, however,
have sensed the true message of this little article. The inner
world is the philosophic empire, the abode of thoughts,
dreams, and aspirations. Here there is no illusion of time;
past, present, and future dwell together in peace. Plato and
Aristotle, Pythagoras and Euclid, still walk with their
disciples in the garden of the mind. Loving thoughts can
conjure up their forms, and the modern disciple may sit
quietly at the feet of ancient masters.
To become a ruler of the inner world a man must be
loved, not feared. He must be respected, not hated. The
highest office attainable to a human being is that of prince
over the secret gardens of the wise. Is this inner garden
merely an illusion, the product of wishful thinking? Or is
it the reality in man trying to break through and transform
the outer wilderness into the likeness of itself? Is beauty
32 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

only a hope, and ugliness the fact? The mystics would say
that beauty is the reality and ugliness is a dream, a nightmare
of the spirit which must pass away. Philosophy has proved
that while the outer living is full of contention, all men are
much alike in their dreams. In this world of the spirit there
is neither race nor nation, only a longing for peace according
to the understanding of the seeker. The outer life of man
may be dominated by tyrants who bind nations and races to
their ambitions, but tyranny cannot reach into the secret
garden. The body can be destroyed, but never the dream.
The more man is afflicted, the stronger his mysticism be-
comes.
The fate of the Troubadours is closely linked with the
series of persecutions that destroyed the Albigenses, a sect
which secured its name from the town of Albi. The Albi-
genses were an offshoot of the heresy of Manes, whose teach-
ings so deeply influenced the early life of St. Augustine.
The Crusaders had brought Europe into contact with the
religions and philosophies of Greece, Arabia, and the Far
East. The result was a strong revival of Neoplatonic mys-
ticism, which took on political coloring and made an open
attack on the papacy. All these Neoplatonic movements were
pronounced heretical by the Church, and finally led to the
setting up, in May of the year 1163, of the machinery for the
Holy Inquisition. In sober fact, the Inquisition was an
attempt to stamp out Neoplatonism in Europe.

The Knights Templars

In the year 1118 nine valiant and Christian-spirited knights

formed themselves into an association which was to combine
the attributes of knighthood and priesthood. They elected
Hugh de Payens as Grand Master to whom they swore obedi-
 Neoprtatonic MErapHysics 33

ence, and they dedicated their swords, their moral strength,

and their worldly possessions to the defense of the mysteries
of the Christian faith, Thus came into existence the most
powerful of all the medieval mystical orders, the Militia
Templi, or the Knights Templars.
In the beginning the order was dedicated to poverty, and
the seal of the Templars was the figure of two knights riding
on one horse. In a few years, however, the Templars drew
about them the most powerful nobles of Europe, and their
wealth was beyond estimation. They set up nine thousand
commanderies or lodges. At last their wealth became so
great that the Church combined with the bankrupt royal
houses of Europe to destroy the order. On March 14th, 1314
Jacques Bernhard de Molay, the last Grand Master of the
Temple, was burned at the stake after six years of imprison-
ment and torture. All the properties of the Temple were
confiscated, and its temporal power completely suppressed.
The Templars were accused of being pagans, of wership-
ing strange gods, of practicing mystical rites, of taking part
in magical ceremonies, and of being inclined to the heresy
of Manes. This contamination resulted from their contact
with Gnostic, Cabalistic, and Islamic secret societies in Pales-
tine. Most of the attacks made upon the Templars were in-
spired simply by avarice, and their supposed addiction to the
worship of demons was only an excuse to justify their
persecution and extermination. The philosophy of the
Temple was essentially a Neoplatonic emphasis upon religion
as a spiritual experience within the life of the initiate, rather
than dependence upon the dogma of the Church.
With the martyrdom of the Templars, the esoteric orders
of the ancient world disappeared as public institutions. Gen-
eral Albert Pike has pointed out that the broken sword of
34 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

the Templars became the dagger hidden under the cloak of

the brotherhood of Vengeance. The philosophical orders re-
tired into a condition of complete secrecy, and their activities
were concealed in the fables of the alchemists, the later
Hermetists, Rosicrucians, and Illuminati. But the golden
chain was never broken, and it was the Order of Vengeance
that brought about the American and French Revolutions;
gradually destroyed the divine rights of kings, and set up
religious tolerance and_ political democracy among the na-
tions of the Western Hemisphere. Modern democracy is a
direct result of Alexandrian Neoplatonism and its conflict
with ecclesiastical authority.

The Second Cycle of the Platonic Descent

In Volume I of this work we outlined the descent of
Orphic theology from Pythagoras to St. Augustine. This
was the foundation. The mystical rites established in Greece
by the Thracian bard, Orpheus, were to grow and unfold
until they dominated the intellectual development of the
Occidental world. Orpheus composed hymns to the Sover-
eign Good. He revealed the religion of ecstasy, and taught
the power of the mystical experience. The mystical theology
of Orpheus was scientifically and mathematically revealed by
Pythagoras. It was shaped into a noble system of moral,
ethical, and political philosophy by Plato and his legitimate
successors. Through the labors of Aristotle it was clarified,
and became the basis of modern intellectualism. The sublime
pattern was for a second time revealed to mankind through
the Neoplatonic restoration, where it took on the aspect of
a universal wisdom by embracing the metaphysical systems
of Asia. In this final form it was imposed upon the structure
of the early Christian Church by St. Augustine.
 NEopLaATonNic METAPHYSICS a5

In the present volume we trace the descent through

scholasticism as represented by Albertus Magnus and St.
Thomas Aquinas. With the collapse of the schoolmen the
heritage passed on to the humanists, of which group Para-
celsus is an example. The intellectual revolt in the modern
world against the limitations of unproved theory is personi-
fied by its great leader, Francis Bacon. The growth of the
intellectual world was paralleled by the unfolding of the
mystical aspect of Neoplatonism through such men as Jakob
Boehme and Emanuel Swedenborg. Bacon and Boehme
outlined broad policies, and it remained for the most meticu-
lous thinker Europe has ever produced, Immanuel Kant,
to reveal in detail that which previously had been stated only
in general terms.
Thus Neoplatonism passed through the long, hard winter
of its beginning. Then came the springtime in the fair
climate of Alexandria, followed by an arduous summer
in the confusion of Europe’s Middle Age and the early
centuries of modern time. Autumn came at last in the
quiet, green hills of New England. Here in kindly words
and gentle thoughts Emerson summed up the transcendental-
ism of twenty-five centuries in little essays that all could
understand and love.
Although much has been accomplished, there is still a
great deal to be attained. Reason has yet to prove the way
of faith. We must labor to the end that heart and mind
will bear testimony together. The sciences even now remain
aloof, worshiping in the temple of the mind, and seeking
with thought to solve the mystery of life. And the philos-
ophers are still wrangling among themselves, offering their
discord as homage at the altar of Aristotle. Neat little
churches with pointed spires and whitewashed picket fences
36 PaTHWAYs OF PHILOSOPHY

are modest but adamant survivals of theology’s vanishing

empire. The confusion lingers, but it is tempered by ex-
perience, and age has worn away most of the belligerancy.
Old habits persist, however, and the oldest habit in the world
is the impulse to divide.
Division results in common ruin. We stand, like Faust
in his laboratory surrounded by scientific equipment, learned
books, and sacred relics, and we echo his complaint, “Here
I stand with all my lore, a fool no wiser than before.” With-
out understanding there can be no perfection for the works
of man, and this understanding must come from within.
Science, philosophy, and theology have one necessity in com-
mon—the mystical experience. Only the power of the spirit
can transmute science into truth, philosophy into wisdom,
and religion into enlightened faith. Man himself must be-
come the answer to the questions that he asks.
Neoplatonism is the mystical art of becoming. It has
been said that life is an eternal process of becoming, the end
of which is beyond human comprehension. It is not the
growth of our institutions but the growth of ourselves that
is our hope for the future. Too long have we accepted the
symbol for the fact. We have measured progress in terms
of the conquest of externals, and as our sciences expand we
weep, as Alexander the Great wept because he had no more
worlds to conquer.
Every day we are confronted with the challenge of be-
coming. As the burden of the outer world grows heavier
upon us we look about desperately in search of strength
and refuge. If we are honest we will admit that the fault
lies in ourselves. We are not big enough for our jobs; we
must become stronger as individuals if we are to survive.
We plot, plan, scheme, and evade, but the problems only
 Neoptatonic MeErTapHysics 37

grow. Likely enough we end in a panic, the result of our

own inadequacy. We seek advice from others, only to learn
that we cannot understand the advice of the wise, and the
advice of the foolish tends to make things worse. The ma-
terialist is profoundly comforted by the hope that beyond
the grave there is nothing but silence and oblivion. At last
he will be in peace, even if he is not privileged to be aware
of his own contentment.
Of what virtue then are learned pronouncements, impor-
tant conferences, and those dignified gatherings where the
unenlightened arrive at weighty decisions relating to the un-
known and the unknowable? The victim is completely
trapped. He is in a cage from which he can find no way
of escape. He may define the cage as he wills; he may
decorate its walls with pictures of far vistas to create the
illusion of freedom; he may gild the bars to make the cage
less drab, but he is still a prisoner pacing the narrow width
of his cell.
The late Harry Houdini was an expert at picking locks
and freeing himself from behind prison bars. He said that
his most difficult experience was an attempt to escape from
a cell, the door of which he thought was locked. He tried
for hours to pick the combination, and then by accident he
leaned against the door. To his surprise it opened by this
simple pressure.
The prison cell in which man has locked himself by the
limitations which he has imposed upon his own consciousness
is very like the one which caused Houdini so many trying
hours. We are held to our mortal state by our own fixed
belief that there is no escape. Having accepted life as a
prison we either batter ourselves to death against its bars or
settle down to the scientific process of trying to pick the lock.
38 PaTHWAYsS OF PHILOSOPHY

There is but one way out of our mortal prison and that
is through the growth of our inner consciousness. We
become free as we become wise. There can be no real
wisdom apart from the mystical experience. By the develop-
ment of our own spiritual content we outgrow our physical
limitations and pass from a mortal condition to an immortal
state of being. It is this door upward and inward that has
never been locked. The only reason we cannot use this door
is that we have denied its existence, and have refused to
accept the challenge of self-improvement as the way to
freedom.
Neoplatonism is the doctrine of the open door that leads
into the secret empire of the sages. In the doctrines of Zen
Buddhism this door is called the gateless gate. He who dis-
covers its mystery learns that every wall is transformed by
truth into an open door. In the end the real fact becomes
apparent; the whole physical universe is itself an open door.
There are no walls, no bars, and no limitations except the
ignorance of man.
Ignorance is variously defined. It can be applied to the
unlettered, the unskilled, and the uninformed, but it is
especially applicable to the unenlightened. Buddha applied
the term ignorant to any person, schooled or unschooled,
who was not aware of the spiritual mystery at the root of life.
To believe that the conquest of the world can be achieved
without the conquest of self is to be in a state of abysmal
benightedness. Such a standard of estimation would work
a serious hardship on the egos of modern intellectuals.
Faith cannot come from a mere desire to believe. It must
arise from some inner conviction about God, nature, or man.
This conviction must in turn originate in some extension of
vision by which the larger aspect of living is experienced.
 NeEortatonic METAPHYSICS 39

This is why the sorrows and misfortunes of our days have a

tendency to enrich our consciousness. In adversity we be-
come thoughtful; we search within ourselves for strength,
and sometimes we find the door.
The Neoplatonic doctrine that the perfection of the mind
leads naturally to illumination is the final reconciler of reason
and faith. A disciplined faith built upward by ordered think-
ing is very different from the blind faith which afflicts theol-
ogy. It is not a problem of rejecting values in the cause of
spiritual consciousness. It is a perfectly natural unfoldment
in the sphere of values in which superiors take their proper
places over inferiors. In this way all conflict in the person-
ality ceases, and consciousness becomes the proper ruler of the
personality pattern.
The lofty idealism of such a mystical philosophy has con-
tributed to beauty in every department of human endeavor.
It has inspired the arts, enriched literature and poetry, and
added luster to the learned professions. No one is better for
being a materialist. No one is stronger because of unbelief.
The work of the world, the progress in all departments of
our social order, is the result of practical idealism. Great
men always believe in something greater than themselves.
By this belief they are inspired to overcome those obstacles
which are always cast in the way of greatness.
Neoplatonic mysticism invites the thoughtful soul to share
in the dream that has made man nobler than the brutes.
Beyond the present horizon of our purpose lies the world
of the Heroes. This is the empire of those who have found
in themselves and through themselves the blessed natures of
the gods.
How can we close the present chapter more appropriately
than to quote once more from Plotinus? These are his
40 PatHways OF PHILOSOPHY

words of counsel to those who seek wisdom: “The wise man

recognizes the idea of the good within him. This he de-
velops by withdrawal into the holy place of his own soul.
He who does not understand how the soul contains the
beautiful within itself seeks to realize beauty without by
laborious production. His aim should be to concentrate and
simplify, and so to expand his being, instead of going out
into the manifold, to forsake it for the One, and so to float
upward toward the divine font of being whose stream flows
within him.”
 3

St. THomas AQUINAS

 y;
SCHOLASTICISM

Saint THomas AQUINAS

UT of the myth and legend and general historical

obscurity of the medieval world emerges the diminu-
tive form of Albertus Magnus, Count von Bollstadt. In a
time when philosophy, theology, and science were hopelessly
confused it was difficult, if not impossible, to examine the
achievements of an individual with anything resembling
modern criticism. Nor do we possess much factual informa-
tion about Albertus Magnus. In his own time he was called
The Ape of Aristotle by his detractors. Those who saw no
fault in him referred to him as Doctor Universalis and Albert
the Great.
The physical proportions of Friar Albertus may be gath-
ered from an incident recorded by Bullart. While in Rome
Albertus kissed the feet of His Holiness the Pope. After
the ceremony the Pope commanded him to rise, not realizing
that Albertus was already standing upright. This would
seem to justify the remark of one of the older historians that
“Our Albertus was a very little man.” But the intellect of
Albertus exceeded the proportions of his body, for he was
one of the most learned men of all time.

41
42 PaTHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

In an age when intellect was regarded as supernatural

it was inevitable that Albertus should be accused of dabbling
with infernal arts. His name has been associated with
alchemy, magic, astrology, and cabala. A number of tracts
have been attributed to him on very flimsy evidence. Most
of them were catchpenny forgeries exploiting the venerable
name of a famous man. One of these small books dealing
with novel and unusual suggestions for midwives did little
to further his reputation in the field of sober scholarship.
In view of the temper of the time it is quite probable that
Albertus Magnus was interested in what we now glibly call
the pseudo-sciences. All medieval chemistry was involved in
Egyptian and Arabian alchemical speculation. It has been
said that Albertus manufactured the gold to pay off the debts
of his bishopric at Ratisbon, amassing this considerable sum
by two years of diligent work with his retorts. Several
alchemical writers include his name in the lists of their
patron saints.
It was the same concerning astrology; the greatest pro-
fessors of the old universities confused astrology with astrono-
my, teaching the latter principally for the sake of the former.
Astrologers were men of consequence, and prospered unless
their predictions failed or their findings ran contrary to the
ambitions of their princes. A man with the learning of
Albertus would most certainly be informed in the prevailing
knowledge of his time. To discount his contribution to
science and philosophy because of his unorthodox beliefs
would be as foolish as to disparage Galileo and Copernicus
because both of them cast horoscopes.
There is some dispute as to whether or not Albertus
Magnus was one of the inventors of gunpowder. Here again
the evidence is inadequate, but he lived in a time when men’s
 SCHOLASTICISM 43

minds were emerging from the limitations of the Dark Ages.

New ideas were in order, and he contributed his share to the
forward motion of his intellectual world.

Albertus Magnus, Doctor Universalis

Albertus Magnus was born at Lauingen in Swabia be-

tween 1193 and 1206. Although he came of good family and
carried the title of count, he does not seem to have inherited
any mental genius with his estates. As a young man he was
slow of mind and dull of wit. He despaired of ever becom-
ing learned, and his professors shared his despondency. His
memory was especially bad, a particular misfortune in a
time when all learning was nothing more than the capacity
to remember. As a boy he showed marked religious leanings,
but his adventures at the University of Padua merely dis-
couraged him. How could a man with faulty faculties hope
to master the profundities of Aristotelian logic and rhetoric?
In his extremity young Albertus turned to prayer for
guidance. In one of his vigils the Virgin Mary appeared to
him and promised her aid. Immediately an extraordinary
intellectual vitality was manifested. His memory became
prodigious, his reasoning powers gained an amazing acuteness,
and he was transformed from a dullard into a mental giant.
This is the legend, and in an age of miracles something re-
markable certainly did occur.
Albertus Magnus emerged from mediocrity to become a
leader of human thought. Profoundly grateful for the mira-
cle that had so completely changed his life he took holy
orders, and about 1223 became a Dominican and_ studied
theology under the rules of the order at Bologna. He taught
at Hildesheim, Freiburg, Ratisbon, Strasbourg, and Cologne,
44 PaTHWAYs OF PHILOSOPHY

and the University of Paris made him Doctor of Theology in

1245. As a teacher and lecturer he gained a wide sphere of
influence, and became bishop of Ratisbon in 1260, which
bishopric he held for two years. At the command of the
Pope he traveled through Germany and Bohemia preaching
the eighth crusade, and undertaking various other ecclesias-
tical missions in Wurzburg and Strasbourg. The last ten
years of his life were spent at Cologne in scholarly and
scientific pursuits, notably in preparing commentaries on
Aristotle and making the attempt to unite theology and Aris-
totelianism. He died on November 15th, 1280.
We read that in his closing years Albertus Magnus lost
his intellectual powers, returning again to the dullness of wit
that had been his prior to the vision of the Madonna. It is
more probable that he was senile, but in those days natural
causes were seldom considered if miraculous circumstances
could be made to fit the occasion.
Father Theophilus defends the memory of Albertus from
the stigma of sorcery by stating that God revealed the
sanctity of this good man by several miraculous works and
by preserving his body uncorrupted for a long time. He was
beatified in 1622, named Doctor of the Church, and canonized
by Pius XI in 1932. In 1480 the Great Chronicle of Belgium
described him as Magnus in Magia, Major in Philosophia,
Maximus in Theologia, thus summarizing the esteem in
which he was held during the middle ages.
It is difficult to attempt an estimate of the personality of
the great Albertus. To depart from the narrow path of
historical certainties is to fall immediately into the abyss of
legend. In fact the most interesting circumstance of his life
is subject to this criticism, yet so persistent is the account that
it seems advisable to include it here.
 SCHOLASTICISM 45

Albertus Magnus devoted thirty years of his life to the

construction of an artificial being. Gabriel Naude in his
Apologie des Grandes Hommes describes the making of this
homunculus: “He had composed an entire man after this
manner... forming him under different aspects and constel-
lations, the eyes for example... when the sun was in the
sign of the zodiac which answered to such a part, which he
founded of metals mixed together, and marked with charac-
ters of the same signs and planets, and of their different and
necessary aspects. And so the head, neck, shoulders, thighs,
and legs, fashioned at different times and mounted and
fastened together in the form of a man.”
Naude called this figure the android, and by this name
it is still known. It is a mistake, however, to assume that
Albertus Magnus applied this name to the figure. Other early
writers have suggested that the android was not made of
metal but of artificial flesh and bones created by alchemical
and magical means. There has been controversy as to
whether or not the android was an instrument through which
the devil could speak. The high level of scholastic thinking
is well-represented in the decision arrived at by the school-
men. They reason thus: As the devil is possessed of extra-
ordinary powers it would be unnecessary for him to make
use of a mechanical device; therefore it is judged that Al-
bertus bound to his machine some poor, wandering ghost
that prattled meaningless words.
It is further reported on the authority of several writers
that the incessant babbling of the android interfered with
the scholarly meditations of Albertus’ favorite pupil, the
immortal Saint Thomas Aquinas, who in a moment of irrita-
tion destroyed the mechanism. The fact that Saint Thomas
himself does not refer to the incident is held as evidence that
46 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

the entire account is a fable. It is possible that these several

accounts were fathered upon Albertus by medieval historians.
Roger Bacon, the Franciscan monk and English mystical
philosopher of the 13th century, is reported to have constructed
a brazen talking head.
But it is Albertus Magnus, Major in Philosophia, who is
our principal consideration. With him was ushered in the
third period of scholastic philosophy, the systems of thinking
that dominated the intellectual life of Europe from the 9th
century to the Reformation, and survive even to our day in
a modified form.
Charlemagne, (742-814) king of the Franks and emperor
of the West, was a distinguished patron of learning. During
his reign he created a system of cloister schools for the teach-
ing of the seven liberal arts. These arts were divided into
two groups: the trivium, composed of grammar, logic, and
rhetoric, and the quadrivium which included arithmetic, geo-
metry, music, and astronomy. Naturally, the cloister schools
approached all knowledge from the inclusive viewpoint of
theology, and they were immediately confronted with the
problem of reconciling sacred and profane doctrines.
The teachers of the cloister schools were called doctores
scholastici, and as their opinions took form and assumed the
proportions of complete intellectualism the system was called
scholasticism.
It has been said that there was no philosophy during the
middle ages—only logic and theology. This is not correct,
for the term theology included the entire field which has
since been specialized into both philosophy and_ theology.
It was the desire of Charlemagne to revive the broad prin-
ciples of learning which had perished from the popular mind
with the closing of the schools at Athens. He had recourse
 SCHOLASTICISM 47

to the Aristotelian technique because Aristotle’s systematic

way of thinking seemed especially attractive at a time when
all system was lacking. In Volume I of Journey in Truth
we pointed out the Aristotelian fallacy, and the scholastics
are a perfect example of this fallacy in action.
We are now inclined to picture the scholastics as Francis
Bacon pictured them—hooded and robed intellectuals picking
at the bones of the Aristotelian hen. When they had picked
all the meat from the fowl they settled down to the process
of gnawing the bones. It might be more fair to approach
the subject in the words of Noire in his Historical Introduc-
tion to Max Muller’s Kant. “Anyone who surveys with com-
prehensive gaze the development of philosophy as the thought
of the world in its relation to mankind will see in the tranquil
intellectual industry of the middle ages a great and significant
mental crisis, an important and indispensable link between
ancient and modern philosophy.”
It was Albertus Magnus who first systematized the Neo-
Aristotelianism of his time, and adapted it to the dogma of
the prevailing church. To accomplish this huge task he had
constant recourse to the Arabian commentators through
whom the Greek tradition was largely preserved for Europe.
The Arabs were romanticists in learning, and had consider-
ably modified the intellectual austerity of the Greek thinkers.
This simplified the work of Albertus; in fact it made the
adaptation of Greek thought to Christian theology possible.
He laid the foundation, but it remained for Saint Thomas
Aquinas to perfect his master’s labors. It is still a question
as to which of the two, Albertus or Thomas, possessed the
stronger intellect. But it is obvious that Thomas was the
more subtle.
48 PatHways OF PHILOSOPHY

Thomas of Aquino, Doctor Angelicus

Thomas of Aquino, often called the Doctor Angelicus,

the most celebrated of all the scholastic philosophers, was
born in Italy about the year 1225 at the castle of his father,
Count of Aquino, in the province of Naples. He was in-
tended for a brilliant career in the secular world, and the
circumstances of his birth assured him wealth and distinction.
Early in life he came under the influence of the new Domin-
ican order, the Friars Preachers. Their hold upon his mind
increased with the years because he was by nature studious
and the church was the principal repository of learning
Thomas received his early education from the monks of
Monte Cassino, and later studied at the University of Naples.
His intellect was especially suited for the subtleties of logic,
and as his knowledge increased his resolution grew with it
and he secretly entered the society of Friars Preachers when
he was seventeen years old.
The Aquino family was by no means pleased at the pros-
pect of their son exchanging his wealth for a monk’s habit,
and they made every possible effort to discourage his religious
aspirations. His mother especially was indignant, and did
all within her power to change his purpose. At the request
of Thomas the Friars transferred him from one place to an-
other to escape his mother’s influence, but she followed him
even to Rome. Although she lived in each city where he
resided she was never permitted to see him. At last in des-
peration she conspired with his two elder brothers to abduct
him by force. They waylaid him while he was on the road
to Paris to complete his education, and carried him to the
castle at Rocca Secca where they confined him for two years
 SCHOLASTICISM 49

in the hope of persuading him to give up holy orders. He

finally escaped through an upper window of the castle.
This appears to have been the end of the family opposition,
and young Thomas was permitted to engage in those pursuits
which attained for him the name Angelic Doctor.
In Paris Thomas met and became a pupil of Albertus
Magnus, and in 1245 when Albertus was called to Cologne
Thomas went with him and remained his student for several
years. Returning to Paris he gained a great reputation as a
teacher, and as a leader of the Dominicans and the Friars in
general when the Franciscans and the seculars stirred up
trouble at the university. On the one hand was religion
with its emphasis on the spiritual and intuitional faculties
of the mind, and on the other was secular learning which
emphasized the physical phenomena of life. The challenge
offered by this conflict established Aquinas in his life work.
He must prove that the two viewpoints could be reconciled.
He was resolved to justify his concept by an elaborate use of
logic.
Scholasticism has been accused of thinking from instead
of toward a conclusion, and Aquinas is a brilliant example
of this policy. Needless to say, a large part of modern think-
ing uses the same formula. Having decided what we wish
to believe we cheerfully distort all facts until they prove our
belief.
It is said that the most important conception which scho-
lasticism originated was the conception of the concept itself.
A concept is an intellectual object born of the mind but
occupying an important relation to reality. To mature a
concept or general idea and then bind the fact to the concept
was the principal mental exercise of scholasticism.
50 PaTHWAYs OF PHILOSOPHY

Faith and Revelation

The philosophical and theological doctrines of Thomas

Aquinas are called Thomism. His system is basically Aristo-
telian modified by the Arabian commentators and partly
digested by Albertus Magnus. The principal tenet is the
concept that faith is an extension of reason and that no con-
flict exists between the two. The mind, ascending through
the various orders of learning comes finally to the contempla-
tion of spiritual mysteries. These cannot be known by the
intellect, but they can be discovered by faith. By faith man
can approach God in the same way that by reason he can
approach nature. Reason leads to philosophy, faith leads to
revelation, and no inharmony exists between the two pro-
cesses.
The examination of nature by the reasoning powers of the
mind was Aristotle’s forte. Nor is it easy to wander far
afield when continually in the presence of physical facts.
If we stray in our effort to explain the intangibles behind
these facts, the facts themselves endure to refute our errors.
As a result of the inevitable limitations imposed by visible
things upon our impulse toward abstraction, reason tends
toward materialism. A materialist is a person who hangs his
faith on that which is demonstrable to the senses and the
objective parts of the intellect.
But it is not so simple to attempt the organization and
classification of imponderables. To reason accurately about
things invisible and in themselves unknowable or unknown
requires faculties not yet perfected in man. Things that are
logically true may not be so in fact. It is hazardous to build
an elaborate superstructure upon a hypothesis. This was the
 SCHOLASTICISM 51

dilemma of the scholastics. Only partly informed about the

physical world and its laws, they attempted to set up and
demonstrate a dogmatic concept about the invisible world
and its laws. They built on what they assumed to be the
infallible foundation of Christian doctrine.
Let us parallel their endeavors with a similar attempt on
the part of the Brahmans in India. It is said that these wise
old Orientals examined and charted all space, physical and
spiritual, extending their efforts a full ten inches beyond the
circumference of eternity. However, the Brahmans did not
approach the problem in the same way as did the Thomists.
They had no intention of depending upon the frail instru-
ment of faith. They set to work to perfect within the human
being a group of extrasensory perceptions which would sus-
tain their researches into abstraction. They believed that man
had faculties within his mind which could be scientifically
trained to cope with the mysteries of the spiritual world.
This is the very essence of the doctrines of Yoga and Tantra.
Like most Aristotelians, the Thomists neglected to apply
their scientific approach when fitting the individual for the
task of metaphysical exploration. They trusted their weight
to an intangible and inconstant factor which they called
revelation. Like most mystics, they were so overwhelmed
by the magnitude of Deity that they failed to approach God
as a scientific problem.
We must not blame the scholastics too greatly for their
mistakes. They lived in a time when a truly liberal attitude
was impossible. They had neither the power nor the inclina-
tion to resist the pressure of ecclesiastical tradition. They
made a valiant effort, and all European civilization has bene-
fited by their endeavors, but they could not attain their prin-
cipal end because they lacked the means.
52 PatHways OF PHILOSOPHY

In the consciousness of Thomas Aquinas there appears a

strange conflict between the methods of Aristotle and Plato.
This good churchman was attempting to accomplish a Pla-
tonic end by an Aristotelian technique. He wished to rec-
oncile two widely divergent concepts by a common denom-
inator. This was good Platonism and reveals the high
measure of idealism which motivated Thomas’s actions. But
the Aristotelian instrument was faulty. It is hard to find
the unity in things by a process of systematic separation.
We cannot analyze revelation by a method appropriate to
the dissection of a plant. When we attempt to bind immor-
tal truths to the limitations of the mortal mind something
is lost, and the thing that is lost is truth itself. A systema-
tized theology is not a link between man and his spirit. Man
himself and not his dogma is the link with God. But this
was contrary to theology, and therefore Aquinas could not
perfect such a doctrine without destroying himself.
We have already mentioned that Albertus Magnus was
touched, but not too deeply, by the stigma of sorcery.
Thomas Aquinas also was reputed to be a magician, alche-
mist, and astrologer, and likewise with him these doubts
were boldly raised and hotly contested. From all reports
he was a lover of silence and solitude. He had weighty
matters to ponder, and resented interruptions. The room in
which he studied overlooked a thoroughfare where grooms
were constantly exercising horses. This din so annoyed the
good Thomas that he turned to magic as a remedy for the
nuisance. He made a small horse of brass by means which
he had learned from Albertus, and buried it three feet under-
ground in the midst of the road. Thereafter no horse would
pass that way. The grooms beat and spurred their animals,
 SCHOLASTICISM 53

but to no avail, and finally chose another street in which to

exercise their animals.
There is a persistent rumor that Albertus Magnus con-
veyed to his favorite disciple the secret of the philosophers’
stone and the mystery of the universal medicine. There is
no proof of this, but there are indications that Thomas was
informed in chemistry. He is supposed to have first employed
the word amalgam to signify an alloy of mercury with some
other metal or metals. Probably most of the alchemical tracts
attributed to him are forgeries.
Our particular purpose is to indicate the place of Thomas
Aquinas in the descent of the Platonic tradition. We may
be severely criticized for pointing out that in spite of his
Aristotelian method he was at heart a Platonist, as to a degree
was Aristotle himself. Both were touched by the lofty ideal-
ism of the Platonic vision. Aristotle was the victim of his
own mind, and Aquinas was the victim of the one mind of
his time—the Church.
The Greek theology as derived from the Orphics was a
magnificent pageantry of gods and heroes administering
world affairs from the lofty throne of Olympus. This vision
was highly acceptable to the human mind, and when phil-
osophically interpreted was satisfactory to the needs of both
faith and reason. Plato was an Orphic, and his mystical
convictions formed an adequate foundation for his material
philosophy.
This happy state of things was lost, for the early Church
and the early centuries of scholasticism brought little com-
fort. The human mind is addicted to a desire for facts, and
possesses the will to acquire them. The learned are not of
the mood for blind acceptance. The Church had to meet this
54 PatHways oF PHILosoPpHY

challenge, and it was especially weak in what may be called

system.
Christianity of itself is without cosmogenesis, anthropo-
genesis, or psychogenesis. It is a moral code, a way of living,
but not an explanation of life. The Old Testament of the
Jews was incorporated to supply part of this defect. From it
the Church derived its cosmogenesis and part of its anthropo-
genesis. But this attempt toward solution only increased the
difficulties. Actually the Old Testament is by no extension
of the imagination a Christian book. It teaches an entirely
different system of theology, and cannot be reconciled except
by an elaborate process of interpretation.
Early Christianity had to cope with a well-organized
pagan cosmos. It was the urge to compete in this respect
which led the Venerable Bede to cry out against the pagan
constellations moving in a majestic course over a Christian
world. He assigned Jewish and Christian names to all the
star groups to remedy the unfortunate condition, but his
reforms found no lasting favor and the pagan heavens en-
dured.
Jewish anthropogenesis did not help a great deal. The
legend of Adam’s rib required a great deal of explanation to
render it acceptable. As for psychogenesis, it had no place
at all. The Christian concept of the human soul was entirely
contrary to the old Jewish doctrines. The Church could
scarcely afford to borrow openly from the pagan systems
which it had condemned wholeheartedly, but fortunately the
early Fathers left ajar two doors that opened into paganism.
They had a kindly word for the Egyptian hermetists and
the immortal Hermes Trismegistus. They also were dis-
posed to a friendliness for Plato and Aristotle, and through
them the Greek schools.
 SCHOLASTICISM 55

Scholasticism was built upon these two foundations, the

stones of which were held together with Arabian cement.
The tragedy resulting from the closing of the Greek schools
by the zealous Justinian was too apparent to be ignored.
Paganism had left an aching void, and Islam threatened to
fill it. This was a double crisis, and the Church knew that
it must meet the challenge or perish. This does not infer
that the Fathers reasoned this through; circumstances set up
the pattern, and drastic remedies were indicated.
It is a pity that we do not possess a better record of the
working of the medieval mind, but from slight indications
we can infer the processes from the effects. Charlemagne
resolved that facts should not perish in a sea of doubts, and
set up the machinery for the re-establishment of philosophical
order in the world. When we build we must have recourse
to some plan. This the Church did not have, so Plato and
Aristotle were drafted to meet the emergency.
Philosophy was reborn under the long shadow of the
Church steeple. Wisdom has always been the reconciler of
differences, and there were ample opportunities for such rec-
onciliation. The universities, if we may apply so dignified
a term to the schools of that day, had imbibed of Roman
eclecticism. ‘They took the attitude that learning was their
province, and all who trespassed on their domain were thieves
and robbers. They were still suffering the results of the divi-
sion between the temple and the sciences which took place
in Greece at the time of Hippocrates. There was no room
in the vaulted passageways of the sciences for meddling
priests with their notions about the trinity.
It appears that in the beginning theology attempted to
ignore the sciences out of existence. Foolish men could bother
themselves about nature and teeth and comets. The church-
56 PaTHways OF PHILOSOPHY

men had no time for such vagaries; the human soul absorbed
their entire attention. If they had any spare moments these
could be spent in pondering the sermons of the early Fathers.
In the end theology and the university became armed camps,
each forever throwing verbal bludgeons at the other.
We are in much the same condition today. The universi-
ties on the one hand and the churches on the other have
found no common denominator. The modern world is more
tolerant, but this mental generosity does not indicate that
the problem has been solved. Reason and revelation remain
as two unreconciled methods for the accomplishment of the
same end.
As through a glass darkly, Thomas Aquinas saw the thing
that had to be done if Western civilization were to survive.
Knowledge must be unified, and his basic pattern for solution
was comparatively simple. By the union of philosophy and
religion, theology came into being as a science, derived from
the principles of a higher divine and spiritual science. Al-
chemically, theology was to be the universal solvent, a mys-
tical mercury which could hold within itself the spirits of the
other metals. In this way Aquinas set about to secure the
temporal power of the Church in the intellectual world.

The Jarring Sects

Unfortunately, the scholastics themselves could not agree

even on fundamentals. The Albertists differed from the
Thomists in a number of particulars. The Scotists (followers
of John Duns Scotus, the Doctor Subtilis) in turn rejected
the mystical speculations of Bonaventura. Although by
nature a Platonist devoted to mysticism, Bonaventura attacked
the English philosopher, Roger Bacon, on the general grounds
 SCHOLASTICISM 57

that Bacon’s scientific activities exceeded the bounds of ortho-

doxy. From such circumstances as these it will be readily
understood that scholasticism attempting to bind up the
wounds of division had a number of its own to bandage.
Bonaventura struggled valiantly with the problem of indi-
vidualism and free will. In the end he took the ground that
the supreme good is union with Deity, and emerged as a
Christian Yogi. Finding little comfort in scholastic argu-
ment he abandoned himself entirely to mysticism as the only
possible solution to the difficulty.
Although both Albertus Magnus and Thomas Aquinas
derived much of their authority from Aristotle, they differed
from this old peripatetic on a number of theological points.
For example, Aristotle taught the eternity of the world as a
panacea for Plato’s doctrine of regressive evasions. In other
words, Aristotle solved the problem of how the world began
by the simple expedient of assuming that the world had
always existed. With the book of Genesis hanging over their
heads, Magnus and Aquinas decided that the world had a
beginning in time. This they simplified by stating that time
had its beginning with the creation of the world. Here is
another form of the hen and egg dilemma. Magnus main-
tained that the creation by miraculous means could be ra-
tionally demonstrated, but recommended that the concept be
accepted as an article of faith rather than fact.
The Thomist scholastics ventured into the boldest of their
speculations. They attempted to solve the mystery of human
individuality by setting up matter as the cause of personality
differences and inequalities. Individuality was the result of
the mergence of the spiritual nature with the material prin-
ciple. According to Magnus, “The variety of individuals de-
pends entirely upon the division of matter.” Here the scho-
58 PatHways oF PHILOSOPHY

lastics were attempting to build their bridge between Plato

and Aristotle; between revelation and reason. Spiritual unity
was an appropriate theological concept, and material division
was an obvious natural fact.
The Scotists were quick to notice the weakness of the
system advanced by Magnus and Aquinas. Their simple
question, “What causes the division in matter?” confounded
the elders. As all morality and immorality was intimately
related to individuality, it was important to discover what was
to blame for the diversity of human conduct and why it was
so eccentric that it required salvation.
The argument took on added complexity when the angels
were drawn in as an example of supermaterial individuality.
There was common agreement as to the existence of angels,
but certainly they were not corporeal beings; hence it followed
that incorporeal beings could possess individuality. There
was a difference in species which was superior to the differ-
ence in individuals; therefore each angel must be a separate
species.
But men’s opinions live on to plague them, and no sooner
had the angelic world been put in order than the difficulty
took a more imminent turn. If individuality is due to the
descent of spirit into matter, does it not reasonably follow
that the separation of spirit and matter at death extinguishes
the individuality? As the immortality of man is a cardinal
tenet of faith, the Thomists were on the horns of a dilemma.
Their solution was to include in the soul unit the power
to endure as an immaterial form. God created the soul
superior to the body and capable of surviving the dissolution
of the body. Thus the human being consisted of two natures,
a spiritual individuality derived from God, and a material in-
dividuality resulting from its union with matter.
 ScCHOLASTICISM 59

It will thus be seen that the principal end of scholasticism

was neither attained nor attainable according to their system.
Striving ever to unite, they invariably arrived at division.
Seeking to prove the unity of the soul, they were obliged
finally to accept its twofold structure. This fulfills the pur-
pose of reason, which requires contrast for its very survival.
The only hope was revelation, the inward spiritual realization
of a unity which could not be demonstrated by the intellect.
One other example will show the magnitude of the task
which the scholastics had set for themselves. It is concerned
with the nature of good. Aquinas asserted that God com-
mands what is good because it is good. This assumed the
sovereignty of good, with Deity administering that sovereignty
by virtue of participation in its substance. Thus good comes
first, and God comes second. The Scotists hotly contested
this point. According to them, that which is good is only
good because God so wills that it shall be. By this viewpoint
God comes first, and his will establishes the absolute standard
of good to which all creatures must conform. Or must they
conform? Aquinas taught a moderate determinism; the
human will is under the dominion of the reason by which it
is impelled toward right action. Yet obviously it is quite
possible for the human being to perform actions that are not
good. The Scotists pointed this out and decided that the will
could act as it pleased. In this respect it appears that they
found solid ground. Aquinas therefore decided that both
God and man possessed the power to select good, and the
will to conform to the pattern of universal integrity. In other
words Aquinas, having trouble with his Aristotelianism, took
refuge in Platonism.
By the time the jarring sects had each contributed its own
confusion to the general uncertainty, scholasticism was break-
60 PaTHWAYs OF PHILOSOPHY

ing up and breaking down. The Thomists and the Scotists

divided the philosophic universe among themselves and set
up their several kingdoms in the intellectual abyss. Their
problem was too large for their time, and six hundred years
later it is still too large. There were too many hypotheses
and not enough facts. The mind cannot think in a straight
line if it has been conditioned to think in curves. The
scholastics were permitted to function only within the narrow
enclosure of Christian doctrine. They were defeated from
the first, but struggled valiantly against inevitables.
In the 14th century William of Ockham, the Invincible
Doctor, assayed the role of a philosophic Sampson in wreck-
ing the temple of the theological Philistines. He regarded
the arguments about the substance of individuality as absurd.
The individual was the one reality requiring no explanation
but a vast amount of understanding. It was the duty and
privilege of the individual to be the one certainty in an un-
certain life. It was not up to universals to explain indi-
viduals; it was up to individuals to explain universals. There
is much in the doctrines of Ockham reminiscent of the prag-
matism of William James of Harvard, the dean of American
thinkers. The world becomes what the individual believes it
to be, wills it to be, and causes it to be by action.

The Principal Teachings of St. Thomas Aquinas

It has been stated that the principal doctrine of Saint

Thomas can be summed up as “The absence of any formal
distinction between the domain of philosophy and that of
theology.” This is a solid Neoplatonic foundation; in fact,
the most important of the Greek mystical tenets. Knowledge
Is an extension upward toward the substance of truth, and
 SCHOLASTICISM 61

the process of knowing is a gradual ascent of the power to

know through the various levels or degrees of a single spir-
itual:substance. The material world is an extension of God
downward. The spiritual world is an extension of nature
upward. There is no formal distinction between spirit and
matter, as they are conditions of one essence. In the intellec-
tual world, therefore, there can be no formal distinction be-
tween sacred and profane knowledge. All knowledge is in
substance spiritual and has material significance only through
the accidents of extension. Upon this solid and philosophi-
cally irrefutable foundation of Neoplatonic theurgy the doc-
trines of Thomism found their essential footings.
The Church of St. Catarina at Pisa enshrines an important
painting representing Saint Thomas Aquinas. He is shown
with his Summa contra Gentiles upon his lap, and he is sur-
rounded by figures of saints and great Biblical teachers. To
his right stands Aristotle holding up his Ethics, and to his
left is Plato with the Timaeus. From these proceed rays
which reach to the ears of the saint. It would scarcely be
possible to symbolize more completely the relationship be-
tween the philosophy of Saint Thomas and the classical school
of Greece.
It is generally acknowledged that Aquinas was profoundly
influenced by Aristotle, and his followers have been accused
of being so addicted to the peripatetic school as to accept
large portions of the philosophy without question or exami-
nation. It is known that he was a student of the Timaeus of
Plato, and he regrets that the Republic was not accessible in
his time. There is still much debate as to the degree that
Thomism was influenced by Neoplatonism.
In his work on logic Karl von Prantl says that Saint Thomas
corrupted both Aristotelianism and Platonism by addicting
62 PaTHWAYs OF PHILOSOPHY

himself to the mysticism of the book De Causis. Saint

Thomas was well-aware of the fact that this book was by
Proclus, the last of the great Neoplatonists. He also drew
extensively from Boethius, Cicero, Macrobius, and Seneca.
Most of the masters quoted by him were to some degree in-
fluenced by the flow of North African Neoplatonic mystical
speculation.
That Saint Thomas was given to mystical and metaphys-
ical disciplines is evidenced by one of the closing episodes of
his life. At the castle of Magenza, which belonged to one
of his nieces, he passed into a state of trance or ecstasy. This
endured for such a long time that it greatly enfeebled his
body and possibly hastened his death. There can be no doubt
that he was addicted to various mystical practices reminiscent
of the divine experiences recorded by the later Platonists.
The personal life of Aquinas was devoted almost entirely
to lecturing and writing. He refused the honors which the
Church wished to bestow because they interfered with the
principal activities of his life. He was offered the abbacy of
Monte Cassino, and the archbishopric of Naples. Death
came to him in 1274 after several weeks of illness at Fossa-
nuova Monastery near Sonnino, province of Rome. He was
only forty-nine when he died, predeceasing his master, Al-
bertus Magnus, by six years.
Thomas Aquinas was canonized in 1323, and in 1888 he
was declared the patron saint of all Roman Catholic educa-
tional institutions. By any estimate he merited the honors
which have been conferred upon his memory. He was by far
the greatest intellect in the history of the Church. Building
upon the foundation laid by Saint Augustine, and extending
his mind to the consideration of every branch of learning,
 SCHOLASTICISM 63

he perfected the theological system so far as this was possible

within a structure of conflicting beliefs.
Fortunately for Saint Thomas, he did not live to see the
collapse of academic scholasticism. But all the works of man
must perish, and the scholastics fell before the impact of the
modern mind. The 15th century brought with it a new
attitude toward life and its problems. Humanism was born.
Man was emerging from the chaos of his own beliefs. Philos-
ophy, religion, and science, were taking their places as the
instruments of human accomplishment. Man was no longer
to be the servant of learning. It was now time for learning
to become the servant of human necessity. »There was a diff-
cult period of transition. The scholastics dominated all the
institutions of learning, and they were resolved to hold the
world mind to the traditional pattern. The schools became
fortresses of dogma, and from these high and impregnable
structures the scholastics sallied forth to do battle with. the
knights-errant of humanism. For a time Western civiliza-
tion was locked in struggle, but in the end humanism won.
It was progress toward solution, but not solution in itself.
One kind of speculation was exchanged for another, but
speculation continued. The humanists had an answer but
not the answer. Conflict soon arose among them, and the
old pattern was repeated on another plane of mind.
If the change broadened man’s physical perspective it did
so by narrowing and imprisoning his ideals. Philosophy
broke entirely with Neoplatonic vision and mysticism. The
effort to reconcile spirit and matter had failed, and material-
ism became the ruling passion. If the scholastics had gone
off into vagaries concerning the number of angels who could
dance at one time on the head of a pin, the humanists also
had their foibles. They dedicated the human intellect to
64 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

discover the number of atoms that composed the head of the

pin. Each arrived at momentous conclusions, but human be-
ings continued to be born, to suffer, and to die as before.
The struggle between theology and the sciences led to the
persecution of such men as Galileo and Copernicus. The
scholastics should not be overly condemned for their attitude,
for it is shared by all human beings on subjects involving
progress. We have substituted ridicule for persecution, but
continue to regard with anxiety anything that is new or dif-
ferent from our traditional way. Edison, Bell, and Fulton
all felt the weight of a popular scholastic attitude. When
these inventors demonstrated their discoveries the spectators
assembled not to applaud endeavor but to cheer for failure.
A man who went to East Orange to see Edison’s first experi-
ments with the street car returned home angry and chagrined,
announcing bitterly, “The darned thing ran!” If centuries
of examples and proof beyond dispute of man’s ability to
perfect new devices has not tempered our scholastic ten-
dencies, why should we condemn medieval thinkers who had
a much more limited perspective?
From Charlemagne to the Reformation scholasticism was
the only light that guided European thought. Its fault lay
not in its vision but in its method. The early scholastics
realized that in some mysterious way man’s spiritual life was
affected by his physical way of living. Millions of moderns
have not yet grown up to this realization. The spiritual life
of man is still ignored, and as a result few of his physical
affairs go well.

The Advent of Humanism

With the advent of humanism mankind started off on a

new tangent—the mastery of physical nature. Matter as an
 SCHOLASTICISM 65

obstacle to the motion of life must be explained. Astrology

lost its glamour and became sober astronomy. Alchemy
divorced itself from hermetic speculations and took on the
somber livery of a science. Metaphysics was swallowed up
in physics. Mathematics lost its Pythagorean overtones to
become the instrument for estimating profit and loss. The
arts did not escape the general trend. Painting and sculpture
departed from idealism to assume it to be true realism that
the worst is the fact.
The will asserting itself manifested as an all-pervading
willfulness. Man can accomplish anything that he wills to
accomplish, and this concept invited a broad experimentalism.
Forbidden previously to try anything new, the mind resolved
to try everything new, substituting trial and error for dogma.
We are still suffering from the consequences of this ill-guided
enthusiasm. But progress is inevitable, and we learn from
our mistakes.
With the rise of humanism open rebellion broke out
among the lettered and the learned. The first attack was
upon authority, and unfortunately most authority will not
bear investigation. Humanism included the humanizing of
the immortals. Great men of the past were suddenly revealed
to be human after all. True, there are degrees of human-
ness and some were more human than others, but all were
subject to fallacy. Their findings were worthy of investiga-
tion and consideration, but not of blind acceptance. This was
a cataclysmic force in the intellectual world. No one had
ever visualized Arsitotle as a small child cutting teeth. It
had been assumed that he was born in the fullness of his
glory, like Minerva from the head of Zeus. This prevailing
skepticism about the omnipotence of mortals worked a special
hardship on the Church. It raised the question as to the
66 PaTHWaAys OF PHILOSOPHY

infallibility of various doctrines which were definitely trace-

able to human origin. If Saint Ambrose could have been
wrong, if Saint Jerome could have erred, and if Saint Augus-
tine could have been at fault in any detail, then the worst in
all things could be true. The theologians retired to their
scholastic strongholds and left the world to its follies.
If, however, the infallibility of the Church remained
(temporarily at least) unassailable, the fallibility in the secu-
lar parts of scholasticism offered a Roman holiday for the
humanists. Galen and Avicenna were tumbled from their
thrones, and many a noble ancient lost his following.
But it is one thing to tear down idols and quite another
thing to put great ideals in their places. It was fashionable
to disbelieve, but universal suspicion brings little comfort.
If Galen and Avicenna were wrong, who then was right?
The early Church had begun its career by a general attack
upon the pagans, and modern science started its illustrious
course with a wholehearted attack upon scholastic theology.
Something must be found to fill the void left by the rejec-
tion of tradition. To meet this a new technique was evolved
based upon observation and experimentation. Tradition
could not be entirely eliminated. To take away the past
would be to leave nothing. The past must be endured as a
necessary evil, but all tradition was to be subjected to the
censorship of present findings.
Observation came first because the human faculties were
readily available, but the means for controlled experimenta-
tion were limited. The result was the rise of observational-
ism. Knowledge was built up from the testimony of the
senses, presumably under the control of that attenuated fac-
ulty called common sense. The grand tour which had been
a part of medieval education was no longer a journey from
 SCHOLASTICISM 67

one scholastic institution to another. He who observed the

most was the wisest, and whenever possible circumstances
should be examined on their own ground. We like to
think that this attitude resulted in the era of exploration
which led to the discovery of the Western Hemisphere and
other distant lands. A more truly humanistic attitude, how-
ever, is that exploration was inspired by cupidity rather than
by the basic love of learning.
Scholars began to mingle, not in the vaulted universities
but in the privacy of their own homes. Here they commu-
nicated to each other their reasonable doubts about the
curriculum. Travelers from afar joined the circles and
brought news of foreign progress. The change wrought in
medicine was especially outstanding. The doctors exchanged
favorite remedies and gained a reputation among their own
kind for their individual efforts. All men need a certain
amount of approbation in order to do their best work. As
individual thinking became fashionable the intellectual level
of the times rose correspondingly.
The early humanists revolted, not against the foundations
of knowledge but against scholastic interpretation of source
material. They maintained the right of the individual to
arrive at his own conclusions in matters of belief and opinion.
The humanism of Auguste Comte emphasizes the dignity of
the human being and rejects the separate existence of a divine
power. Deity is in man and working through man and is a
part of humanity and nature. It does not necessarily follow
that the humanists interpreted the indwelling divinity in terms
of mysticism. It was their tendency to impersonalize God and
regard so-called spiritual values as overtones of physical exist-
ence. Humanism prepared the way for modernism, and its
rise resulted in a definite modification of religious doctrine.
68 PaTHways OF PHILOSOPHY

The old belief that the earth was the footstool of God rapidly
passed out of fashion. So far did the motion go that in the
end the concept of Deity was tolerated as a necessary evil.
There were times in the course of humanism when Deity
would have been eliminated completely had it not been for a
delicate economic consideration. The universities depended
upon popular support for their survival. God-fearing com-
moners could scarcely be expected to support godless institu-
tions. The wiser course was'a compromise between the two
extremes. God was left outermost space for his abode, but
was refused admission to the academic campus. This state
of affairs endures with some modification to our present time.
The earlier humanists were neither atheists nor agnostics.
They had no quarrel with God, but a strong case against the
priestcraft in general. But once a ball starts to roll and
gathers momentum it is difficult to predict the consequences.
The humanist motion became an irresistible force sweeping
away not only an elaborate structure of fallacies but at the
same time undermining a good part of European idealism.
Internal conflict was inevitable. Humanism could not be
accepted by those of mystical inclinations. The transcen-
dentalists revolted, and revived romanticism as a panacea for
the adoration of sterile facts. The romanticists started a
knight-errantry of their own, and most of them ended up
like Don Quixote lancirg windmills. Cervantes’ story of
Don Quixote is a satire on romanticism in general. It is the
story of the impu'se of the human mind to escape from the
challenge of reality.
There is a streak of romanticism in the composition of
every human being who has developed his mind sufficiently
to manifest the power of imagination. The common ten-
dency is to use a symbolical means of escaping present prob-
 SCHOLASTICISM 69

lems. Now is the time of stress. To escape stress we must

depart from now into some other time. So often we hear
people say, “If only I could have lived in ancient Greece!” or
“If only I had been born in India!” Thus romanticism is a
form of escape mechanism; a departure out of the darkness
of personal responsibility into some promised land where the
desired is a reality.
As long as human beings swing from one extreme to the
other in their opinions, reality eludes them. The scholastics
attempted to bind the mind to a preconception, and failed.
The humanists created an opposite preconception, gathered
an enthusiastic following, and likewise failed for lack of tem-
perance. The romanticists offered a remedy that was as
fatal as the ailment, and their failure likewise was inevitable.
Thus the story of human thought comprises a long pageantry
of failures, and the truth which has been sought by trial and
error remains elusive.
 2)
>)

NEOPLATONISTS OF THE RENAISSANCE

Puitippus AUREOLUS PARACELSUS

pile fall of Constantinople brought about a momentous

change in the intellectual life of Europe. The Byzantine
scholars departed in haste from the City of the Golden Horn,
bringing with them to western Europe the classical learning
of ancient Greece. The invention of the printing press and
the discovery of America also played an important part in
the change. The foundation laid in the 14th and 15th cen-
turies became the solid basis of the Renaissance.
In order to appreciate the ‘great arising’ we must examine
the circumstances of the intellectual rebellion that cleared the
way for our modern trend of life. The 15th century was an
age of mental heroes. In every part of Europe champions
of humanistic learning were locked in mortal combat with
the votaries of scholasticism.

Trithemius of Sponheim

Consider the case of Johannes von Heidenberg, who was

born in Trittenheim on the Moselle in 1462. As was the
fashion of the time he adopted the name of his birthplace
and is known to history as Johannes Tritheim (Latinized

70
PARACELSUS
 NEOPLATONISTS OF THE RENNAISSANCE 71

form Trithemius). He was the son of a vinedresser, and

was only a year old when his father died. His mother mar-
ried a second time, bringing a harsh and brutal stepfather
into the small boy’s life. The stepfather had no place for
learning in his personality pattern, and Johannes had to learn
reading and the rudiments of Latin secretly at night with
the aid of a kindly neighbor.
Tritheim left home at an early age and went to Treves in
search of an education. Later he attended Heidelberg,
where he distinguished himself in literature. In 1482 while
returning home for a visit he was stopped by a heavy snow-
storm and took refuge in the monastery at Sponheim. He
was received with such kindness by the monks that he de-
cided to join the Benedictines and devote his life to scholar-
ship. He must have possessed an exceptional mind, for three
years later the twenty-three year old scholar was chosen
abbot of the monastery.
At the time Tritheim became abbot of Sponheiin the
library consisted of less than forty volumes. He immediately
set about to remedy this condition. He insisted that the
monks employ themselves by making copies of important
works and compiling new material. It appears that thereto-
fore the monks had enjoyed much luxury and leisure, and
they were far from pleased with the prospect of hard work.
They grumbled along for twenty-three years under the
watchful eye of the abbot, until the library contained hun-
dreds of fine manuscripts. At last, while Tritheim was on
a journey, the dissatisfied faction stirred up a riot in the
monastery. Learning of the condition Johannes chose not
to return, and was made abbot of the Scottish monastery of
St. James at Wurzburg, where he died in peace and tran-
quillity eight years later.
72 Patuways oF PuiLosopHy

Tritheim gained considerable reputation as a historian and

theologian, but his historical writings are generally regarded
as unreliable. He was known also as a alchemist, necro-
mancer, and cabalist. Perhaps his greatest bid for fame was
his research into ciphers and methods of secret writing. He
invented a number of ciphers and codes, and rescued others
from oblivion. A century later Augustus, Duke of Bruns-
wick-Luneburg, using the pseudonym Gustavus Selenus, re-
published with considerable revision the work of Tritheim on
ciphers, under the title Cryptomenitices et Cryptographiae.
Part of the text of this work is still used by various govern-
ments in decoding secret documents.
We have in our library an early pen-and-ink sketch of
Tritheim showing him to be a venerable, bearded gentleman
wearing the gown and bonnet of a scholar. As he was the
first known to have recorded the adventures of old Dr. Faust
it seems safe to infer that the good abbot was interested in
magic, although he violently protested his innocence of all
sorcery.

Paracelsus, the Swiss Hermes

Theophrastus Bombastus von Hohenheim (Paracelsus)

the link that connected Tritheim with the Neoplatonic de-
scent, was born near Einsiedeln in Switzerland about 1491.
He accumulated several additional names in the course of his
wanderings, and at the height of his career liked to be called
Philippus Aureolus Theophrastus Bombastus Paracelsus von
Hohenheim. Historians were not of a mood to wrestle with
such a title, and for centuries he has been known simply as
Paracelsus. How he originally secured the name Paracelsus
is a matter of dispute. Some say he took it to indicate that
 NEOPLATONISTS OF THE RENNAISSANCE 73

he regarded himself superior to the Roman physician Celsus,

who gained a wide reputation during the reign of the Roman
Emperor Augustus. Others hold that it was given by the
young man’s father because of early indications of genius.
His father was a physician, though not outstanding, and his
mother was for some years superintendent of the local hos-
pital. With both of his parents engaged in the healing arts
it was not surprising that he should devote his life to medi-
cine.
Paracelsus first studied medicine with his father, from
whom he learned all that was available in the form of thera-
peutic tradition. Physicians not only diagnosed and treated,
but also prepared all of their own medications according to
ability and Galen. There was no standard pharmacopoeia,
and most of the materials obtainable were of inferior quality.
Doctors had herb gardens in their own yards, and dumped
into their prescriptions anything suspected of possessing me-
dicinal virtue. Those who could not afford doctors were
left to die of their diseases, and those who could afford them
died of the remedies.
When Paracelsus was about sixteen he entered the uni-
versity at Basel. Here his worst fears were realized. The
scholastics were immersed in their own conceits; they were
not only ignorant, but blissfully ignorant of their own ignor-
ance. It was at Basel that Paracelsus broke from the tradi-
tional practice of medicine. Years later he described his
youthful decision in these words: “I had in the beginning,
just as much as my opponents, thrown myself with fervent
zeal on the teachers; but when I saw that nothing resulted
from their practice but killing, death, murdering, laming and
distorting—that the greatest number of complaints were
deemed by them incurable, and that they scarcely adminis-
74 PatHways oF PHILOSOPHY

tered anything but syrups, laxatives, purgatives, oatmeal

gruel, pumpkins, citrons, jalap, and other such messes, with
everlasting clysters, I determined to abandon such a miserable
art, and to seek truth by some other way.”
Paracelsus was still in his later teens when the rumor
reached his ears that Tritheim was experimenting with
alchemy. He hastened to Sponheim and besought the learned
abbot to accept him as a pupil. An enduring friendship was
established that was to influence the entire course of modern
science. The profound knowledge of the Scriptures revealed
in the Paracelsian writings, and the spirit of mysticism
which pervades the philosophy of Paracelsus, can be traced
to his contact with Tritheim.
The good abbot was deep in alchemical formulas and the
long cycles of distillation and putrefaction which were the
traditional methods for the transmutation of metals. Para-
celsus had not the patience for such procedures, and soon
tired of the monastic environment. It occurred to his fertile
mind that nature was the mother of the minerals, and that
a practical alchemist should have an intimate knowledge of
her ways.
He left Sponheim and went to Tirol where he worked in
the silver mines and laboratories of the Fuggers. There he
found the thing he sought; a direct contact with reality. He
talked with the miners and watched them as they extracted
the precious metals from the veins in the rock. He gained
a new estimation of the value of machinery, and witnessed
the accidents and misfortunes that plagued the art. He
studied the diseases that afflicted the workmen, and experi-
mented with mineral waters. By comparing the various text-
books on mining with the information he secured by direct
contact he realized that only those who mined understood
 NEOPLATONISTS OF THE RENNAISSANCE oS

mining. He learned more by conversation with the un-

lettered workmen who had labored for years in the earth
than could be found in the texts of the most famous theo-
retical scholars.
His experience in Tirol determined his future. He resolved
to examine all arts and sciences firsthand. He would study
only with those who really knew through experience. If the
professors wished to sit apart in their fine robes and mumble
theories, so much the worse for them; he would have no
part in such a policy. Those who taught what they them-
selves did not really know were worse than fools; they were
rogues preying upon the ignorance of mankind.
For nine years Paracelsus wandered up and down the
face of Europe seeking knowledge. He did not travel by
post chaise as did the elegant men of letters, but chose to
trudge the weary way on foot. He was a vagabond of
science, always questioning, always observing, and ever mind-
ful of local traditions and customs. “The beasts of the fields,”
he would say “know the laws and manners of their kind,
yet they do not attend universities. They are instructed by
God and nature. Should not men follow this example?”
Among the poor and the unschooled he discovered a
world unknown to the proud scientists of his day. He be-
came one with the forlorn and the forgotten. He spoke their
language, lived their lives, and shared their confidences.
He mingled with gypsies and witches, and frequented the
hovels of the widows who dried herbs and wrought spells
and enchantments. He found men who were branded ped-
dlers and quacks more sincere and honest than the court
physicians. The poor lived by common sense and their wits,
but they lived, while the victims of the barbers died in droves.
76 PaTHWAYs OF PHILOSOPHY

Penniless most of the time, Paracelsus supported himself

as best he could through the long years of his wanderings.
He taught all who would listen, and augmented his means
with astrology and other forms of divination. At one time
he sold Bibles, and it is said that he could recite the Old
Testament from memory, seldom failing in a single word.
He was refused the association of doctors because he had the
appearance of a beggar. Never overly neat about his person,
his poverty reduced him to rags, but the very circumstance
that alienated him from the rich endeared him to the poor.
He was one of them; he understood them and they loved
him.
There were brief interludes of prosperity, and on numer-
ours occasions he could have established a profitable practice.
But the love of learning forced him back to the dirt road
that led to greater knowledge. The doctors were always his
enemies, but it cannot be said that he made any serious efforts
to win their friendship. He ridiculed them in public and
cursed them in private. His arrogant spirit was never tem-
pered by adversity, and the exasperated medics several times
plotted his destruction.
It is difficult to estimate the character of a man whose
activities have been chronicled principally by his detractors.
They describe for us a person of violent temper, vicious
tongue, and corrupt morals. He held the scientists of his day
in utter contempt, and expressed his disgust with a total lack
of social grace. It may be said of him that at least he was
not inhibited.
Bombast by name and bombastic by nature, he gained a
wide reputation for ill-breeding. From a more generous
viewpoint one might say that he lived in a constant state of
righteous indignation. And there were good grounds for his
 NEOPLATONISTS OF THE RENNAISSANCE 71

dispositional inclemency. Dr. Hemmann in his Medico-Sur-

gical Essays describes Paracelsus as living in an age when the
science of medicine had degenerated to shallow school gossip,
and the disciples of Galen, in spite of their gossiping and
their passion for controversy and disputation, were the most
wretched pretenders in the healing of diseases. The Galenic
doctors with their bleeding, purging, and emetics, were
seldom successful in treating disease. Hemmann gives us
much more in the same vein, and it is easy to understand
that the contemporary medics might have interpreted the
remarks as uncultured.
It is not often that nature produces a scientist or phi-
losopher with a militant disposition, but Paracelsus was an
exception to all rules, human and divine.
The name of Paracelsus would now be one of the most
honored in all the world had he not been addicted to
mysticism. Like Pythagoras he acknowledged the reality of
magical forces and arts, and like Pythagoras his reputation
has suffered accordingly. Even today, when we boast of
mental liberality, metaphysical speculation is still the unfor-
givable sin in science. Modern apologists attempt to clear
Paracelsus from the taint of hateful mysticism by explaining
that he used the occult words only because no other termi-
nology was available, but anyone familiar with the Paracelsian
writings knows that this is only adding injustice to iniquity.
Paracelsus was certainly the most traveled physician of his
time. In the course of his life he visited Italy, France, Den-
mark, Sweden, Prussia, Bohemia, Poland, Spain, England,
and most of the Balkan countries. While in Russia he met
a prince of the Tatars with whom he traveled to Censtan-
tinople. There is a legend that he reached India, but this
is doubted by modern historians.
78 PaTHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

From the Mohammedan doctors he learned much that

was useful and important in the field of medicine. Islam
was the repository of learning, and he discovered among the
Islamic scholars the true spirit of scientific inquiry. At last
the wanderer had met his own kind, and this contact justified
his entire philosophy of healing and set him more firmly in
his course.
War broke out in the Netherlands while he was in
England, and he immediately applied for the post of barber-
surgeon in the Dutch army. His real motive was to perfect
himself in practical surgery, about the only branch cf the
medical arts practiced in the army. Surgery in the 16th cen-
tury was performed with incredible indifference to human
suffering. Limbs were amputated with a crude saw, no
anesthetic was used, and the stumps were cauterized with a
red-hot iron. Most of the patients, or victims, died of shock
or bled to death. According to the ethics of the time surgeons
were not really doctors but were recruited from among the
barbers, whose red and white striped pole was the symbol of
the bleeding bandage.
Paracelsus was about thirty-two when he returned to
Germany with a considerable reputation as a physician and
surgeon. He was invited to lecture at the University of Basel.
Shortly thereafter he was requested to take a professorship
in physics, medicine, and surgery, and it appeared that he
was on the road to academic success and fame. He professed
to ‘internal medicine’ and began his instruction by burning
the books of Galen and Avicenna in a brass pan after pouring
sulphur and niter over them. By this and other startling
innovations he so dumfounded the faculty of the university
that for a short time it was speechless. In addition to his
 NEOPLATONISTS OF THE RENNAISSANCE 79

extraordinary pretensions he performed a number of local

cures upon cases pronounced hopeless by the doctors.
Not only was Paracelsus remorseless in his attack on the
physicians; he also turned his spleen toward the apothecaries,
whom he accused of wilfully altering the prescriptions for
their own profit. Many a respected medic suffered in his
private practice, and the reputation of the new physician
eclipsed that of the so-called respectable practitioner.
The masters of the university gradually recovered from
the spell which Paracelsus had cast over them, and settled
down to the systematic process of discrediting him whenever
opportunity afforded. They first resorted to an ancient
artifice by questioning his right to practice medicine without
the usual permits and patents, which they made sure he
could not obtain. This ruse failed because he merited so
much public support that the doctors were afraid to show
their hands. They finally resolved to adapt providence to
their purposes.
A certain percentage of the sick and aged had no pos-
sibility of recovery. The doctors did all in their power to
see that Paracelsus would inherit such cases. He was held
responsible for every death that he attended. In some in-
stances he accomplished what verged upon the miraculous,
but his failures were given every possible publicity. His per-
sonality and temperament were’ also used against him. It
was reported that he was in a constant state of intoxication
even while teaching, but like the heroes of Rabelais he was
sotted and cold sober at the same time. His slovenly appear-
ance was termed unprofessional and his ethics unspeakable,
but he remained the prince of physicians, the Swiss Hermes,
the greatest healer of his time.
80 PaTHWAYs OF PHILOSOPHY

If the grievances due to his success were many, there was

another fault equally unforgivable. He refused to deliver his
lectures in Latin. This was a heresy that rocked the founda-
tions of the sciences. His explanation was simple: “I have
no desire to be elegant; I desire to be understood.” It was
enough to be confronted with the challenge of learning, and
too much to be forced to explain the unexplainable in bastard
Latin. Medieval, or bastard Latin as it is usually called, was
a corruption of classical Latin so foul in its structural deformi-
ties that even modern scholars have difficulty in reading it.
Paracelsus regarded this lingual catastrophe as eminently suit-
able to cover up ignorance but unfit for the simple statement
of known facts.
But perhaps the principal reason for professional resent-
ment was that he endeavored to make scientific knowledge
available to the general public. He was one of the first to
think in terms of medical knowledge as part of common
education. He realized the need for hygiene and eugenics
in the home. The people spoke Low German. The physi-
cian was their servant. Therefore let him speak their lan-
guage and not mumble Latin phrases in his beard.
On one occasion Paracelsus assembled the professors to
hear a learned discourse on fermentation. After they had
gathered in solemn dignity he strutted out before them with
a large covered dish. They probably suspected that the dish
contained the philosophers’ stone or some other equally in-
credible substance. But when he removed the lid they found
that the dish contained only human excrement. This was
the final straw! The entire assemblage rose and departed
in high dudgeon. Paracelsus stood in the middle of the floor
shouting after them: “You call yourselves doctors and yet
you will not deign even to look upon feces, let alone examine
 NEOPLATONISTS OF THE RENNAISSANCE 81

it. Yet here, gentlemen, is to be found one of the greatest

secrets of the diagnostic art.”
A break was inevitable, and it came in a spectacular way
as did everything in the life of Paracelsus. The canon Cor-
nelius von Lichtenfels was stricken with an obscure ailment.
The doctors gathered about him and opined variously. There
were consultations, and the old books were dragged out to
find what Galen recommended. But it seems that in this
case the Galenic oracle was silent. The canon grew worse
and worse, until at last his condition was pronounced hope-
less. He had been purged and bled until body and soul
could no longer stand the strain and were moved to dissolve
partnership. But love of life is stronger even than prejudice,
and in his extremity Lichtenfels called for Paracelsus. From
his bed of pain the canon promised a large fee if the Swiss
doctor could save his life. Paracelsus threw out all the
remedies previously employed and recommended a simple
treatment that produced immediate results. The canon re-
covered his full vigor, and his new strength gave him the
courage to refuse payment of the promised fee. Paracelsus
promptly took the case to the courts. The judges, influenced
by the exasperated physicians, sided with the canon and de-
clared that the remedies used did not justify the bill.
Finding no justice in the court Paracelsus took the oppor-
tunity to tell the assemblage exactly what he thought of it.
He spoke eloquently in Low German, borrowing the idiom
of the market place and the local taproom to emphasize his
points. Never was the justification greater nor the remarks
more pertinent. The university, the professors, the doctors,
the judges, the apothecaries, and human nature in general,
were revealed in all their sordidness; nothing was left unsaid,
82 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

After this episode the friends of Paracelsus strongly rec-

omended that he depart from Basel. The authorities had
at last found a tangible charge against him—contempt of
court—and they intended to press the advantage. It was
either a dungeon or a change of air, so Paracelsus shook the
dust of Basel from his shoes and resumed his life of wander-
ing. He left town so hastily that he had no time to pack
his scientific apparatus.
The next twelve years of his life were spent in almost
constant travel. Most of the time he was in dire want. In
1530 he was at Nuremberg, where he came into almost im-
mediate conflict with the doctors. He was denounced as an
impostor, but discomfited his opponents by curing in a few
days some desperate cases of elephantiasis. The records of
these cures may still be seen in the city archives of Nurem-
berg.
Wherever Paracelsus went his reputation suffered from
scholastic criticism and at the same time gained in public
esteem. In 1541 he was invited to Salzburg by the lord
palatine Ernst, Duke of Bavaria, who was a great lover of
alchemy and other secret arts. It seemed that at last the wan-
dering physician had found a haven. The duke was intrigued
and pleased with his personality. The numerous defects of
temperament were generously overlooked, but it seems that
fate had not willed that Paracelsus should ever known physical
happiness or security. He died after a few months in his
new home on the 24th of September, 1541.
The manner in which this remarkable man came to his
death is shrouded in mystery. His enemies spread the rumor
that he died in a common alehouse as the result of a drunken
debauch lasting several days. Most contemporary writers
more friendly in their attitudes say that he was thrown down
 NEOPLATONISTS OF THE RENNAISSANCE 83

a steep incline by assassins in the pay of physicians and apothe-

caries. He was buried in the churchyard of St. Sebastian.
Later his remains were removed to a more prominent part
of the churchyard and a marble monument was erected to
his memory. His grave became a shrine for those seeking
remedies for their physical afflictions. On one occasion
prayers spoken at his grave are said to have preserved the
community from the plague.
Paracelsus was, beyond question, the greatest physician of
his day and one of the most original thinkers in the history
of medicine. He was a one-man revolution in the world of
science, abundantly endowed by nature with the tempera-
mental qualities necessary for such an undertaking. Howard
Wilcox Haggard, professor of physiology at Yale, writing of
the century of great reformers, mentions specifically Luther
in religion, Vesalius in anatomy, Pare in surgery, and Para-
celsus in therapy.

Paracelsian Philosophy

The philosophy of Paracelsus is a difficult and involved

system derived from a variety of sources. By religious con-
viction he was a devout Christian, and no question concern-
ing his orthodoxy has ever been raised. But in his way of
life and in his intellectual convictions he was most certainly
a pagan, deriving his principal inspiration from the traditions
of Neoplatonism. He is, therefore, an important link in the
golden chain of descent by which the modern world is
bound to the classical tradition.
His voluminous writings reveal profound scholarship and
an intense devotion to essential knowledge. They are not
the products of a dabbler or pretender, but are monuments
84 PatHways oF PHILosopHY

to careful observation and reflection. It is not known whether

any of these works exist in his own handwriting, as he
dictated nearly everything to his disciple Crollus. In com-
parison to modern style his essays are interminable, abound-
ing in repetition and loaded with inconsequential detail.
But this was the style of his time, and nearly all medieval
writings are subject to the same criticism. The Opera con-
sists of three massive volumes, each exceeding one thousand
pages.
Unfortunately for modern science, only selections from
Paracelsus are available in English. Translators have been dis-
couraged by the magnitude of the undertaking. A few
short tracts appear in early collections of alchemical essays.
It cannot be said that the Paracelsian writings are well-
ordered or related to each other. They are principally frag-
ments recorded from observation or experience. The wan-
dering life of the man was rich in intellectual adventure.
He listened to strange and wonderful accounts about un-
believable things. He investigated these accounts, and if he
found reasonable supporting evidence he recorded them for
the benefit of future times and distant places.
We find what appears to be a general chaos, with alchemy,
magic, cabala, medicine, surgery, astrology, necromancy, and
divination, all jumbled together. Each large and general
statement is supported and amplified by a variety of incidents
and anecdotes. In one place he tells of the skin of a bird
which although nailed to a wall continued to molt its feathers
each year and grow new ones. In another place he describes
a ring made of antimony which, if placed on a sick man’s
finger, will absorb the disease and then melt and flow off the
finger like quicksilver.
 NEopLATONISTS OF THE RENNAISSANCE 85

We learn that grapevines absorb gold from the earth, and

this gold can be extracted by burning the vines. He was one
of the first to treat syphilis with mercury, and the reader is
presented with details of theory and practice. Not far from
some sober medical observation is a list of talismans to be
fashioned during certain various aspects of the planets. One
of these, when worn about the neck, is an infallible remedy
for dropsy.
It is all fascinating reading. The style is certainly dog-
matic and bombastic, but the scope is encyclopedic. There
is no doubt that thousands of useful hints which could be
of service today are hidden away in these great folios, laden
as they are with daring and original thoughts.
Long and careful study of the Paracelsian corpus reveals
a kind of grand system which binds the contradictions to-
gether. This larger vision is derived from Neoplatonism.
Paracelsus believed the world to be divided into three parts.
The first was spiritual, the second sidereal, and the third ele-
mentary. In this he followed closely the old Pythagorean
viewpoint. Plato shared the same opinion on basic cosmog-
ony. As the world is threefold in its fabric, so all living
things are threefold in their constitutions. Man is the noblest
of the physical creatures, and he derives his spiritual part
from the spirit of the world. His sidereal nature originates
among the stars and constellations, and his corporeal body
is made up of the four elements. Each of the three worlds
is illumined by a sun. The spirit of God, the source of all
life and good, is the first of these suns. The universal mind
is the second sun, originating among the influences of the
planets and stars. The material luminary is the third sun,
and is supported by the metaphysical suns which exist in-
visibly behind and within it.
86 PatHways oF PHILOSOPHY

The world is a macrocosm, a vast being. This being is a

god, with a body of light and feet of clay. The material
world is merely the visible part of this divine being. Man
is a microcosm; a little world patterned after the greater
one and corresponding to the universe in all its essential parts.
From the hermetic school Paracelsus derived his doctrine of
analogies. “As above, so below” was the ancient axiom. By
the study of man we discover the mysteries of the universe.
By a mystic contemplation of the universe we discover the
secret of man. The human being is connected to his spiritual
source by the link of intellect, and the use of the mind de-
termines whether the spiritual or the material part of the
nature dominates. This is good Socratic reasoning, and one
of the most idealistic of all attitudes in regard to man’s place
in nature.
The spiritual world is not just an empty space filled with
the invisible light of God; it is a world populated by creatures
abounding in divine qualities. These have been called the
archangelic host. To Paracelsus these archangels existed ac-
cording to race, time, and place. They could be studied and
classified, and were a proper subject for intellectual consider-
ation. To strengthen this point he gathered a vast amount
of tradition from ancient sources.
Also the sidereal world has its creatures, its races, and its
species. To borrow the words of Socrates, these beings lived
along the shores of the air as men live along the shores of
the sea. The sidereal creatures might involve themselves in
human affairs resulting in various phenomena called mir-
aculous. Paracelsus declined to regard miracles as super-
natural, but held them to be merely superhuman. His defini-
tion was: “A miracle is an effect, the cause of which is un-
 NEOPLATONISTS OF THE RENNAISSANCE 87

known, but the cause must be equal in power to the effect

which is produced.”
Paracelsus was one of the first to study the effect of the
imagination on the mental and physical life of the human
being. Many of his observations anticipated the findings of
modern psychology. The word imagination has the same
root as the word magic, and the power of imagery can be
developed for the accomplishment of a variety of purposes.
He wrote: “Determined imagination is the beginning of all
magical operations.” The imaginative power is strengthened
and sustained by the will. Faith must confirm the imagina-
tion and set it in a proper course, for faith establishes the
will. In another place he said: “Because men do not perfect-
ly imagine and believe, the result is that the arts are un-
certain.”
By visualizing inwardly the purpose of life and the goal
of human effort man can bring to himself a good or evil
destiny according to his use of the imaginative power. The
human being images or imagines the form of the world in
which he lives. We do not perceive things as they are but
as we imagine them to be. Thus if we imagine the world
to be evil it becomes evil for us; if we imagine ourselves the
victims of injustice this imagining will depress our spirits
and cause us to interpret everything that occurs as a personal
injustice to ourselves. But Paracelsus went still further; he
believed that the imaginations of one person could be trans-
ferred to another through the mystery of the astral light. In
this way our most secret convictions and beliefs have a power
for public woe or weal. This is magic. It is not necessary
to draw circles at crossroads or conjure up spirits to do our
bidding; the supreme magical art is the control of the imagi-
nation by the will of the adept. Paracelsus liked to say, “Magic
88 Patuways oF PHILosopHY

is a great concealed wisdom, and reason is a great public

foolishness.”
In his own time Paracelsus was called the Swiss theos-
ophist. Experience revealed to him that a large part of
witchcraft and sorcery was really obsession by an idea. A
man can be possessed by the demon of his own perverse
imagination, yet so great is the power and force of imagery
that it can bring about effects in the physical world. Imagi-
nation can cause storms, bring about plagues, and corrupt the
health of the body. Because the mind is superior to the
physical form it has dominion over it and can corrupt it
from within. Except such ailments as arise from accident,
most sickness is caused by intemperance of the will or
through negative or perverted imagination.
It requires only a slight change in terminology to recon-
cile the viewpoints of Paracelsus with the modern findings of
Freud and Adler. The most recent opinions in medicine
agree with the Paracelsian doctrine that a great part of sick-
ness arises not in the body but is communicated to it by the
intemperances of the intellect.

Magnetic Philosophy

A large part of the philosophy of Paracelsus is devoted

to the study of magnetism. The ancients were aware of
magnetism principally through the phenomenon of the load-
stone. Pythagoras, Plato, and Aristotle, were intrigued by
the strange qualities of this stone. According to Pliny the
word magnetism or magnet was derived from the name of
a shepherd, Magnes. While tending his sheep on Mount Ida,
Magnes was amazed when a small stone attached itself to
his iron-bound staff. The stone of Hercules, as it was after-
 NEOPLATONISTS OF THE RENNAISSANCE 89

ward called, was said to be under the rulership of the planet

Mars, and a variety of speculations were evolved to explain
its curious properties.
Albertus Magnus believed that Aristotle knew of the
polarity of the magnet, but this has not been substantiated.
There are legends to the effect that ancient mariners navi-
gated their ships by means of iron arrows. Every nation of
importance has laid claim to the invention of the compass.
The case for China is probably the strongest.
The magnetic philosophy of Paracelsus originated in his
speculations about the possible use of magnets in the treat-
ment of disease. Up to his time no one seems to have thought
of the magnet as a means of therapy. He applied magnetized
substances to various parts of the human body according to
certain rules, and claimed to have cured a variety of ailments
in this manner. Having convinced himself of the reality of
magnetic force, he evolved an elaborate philosophy on the
subject. All parts of nature are bound together by a mag-
netic sympathy. Magnetism is an invisible substance, which
explains how distant bodies may be in sympathy with each
other although not connected in a visible way. Man is bound
to the universe by magnetic sympathy. This is possible be-
cause each living thing has within it the polarities of all
other living things. As there are constellations in the sky,
so there are smaller constellations in the human brain, and
these two orders of stars differing in magnitude but identical
in quality are united by the sympathy of similarity. There
is a magnet within each person by which he draws to him-
self the qualities appropriate to his disposition and nature.
In this way he can draw disease out of space and bind it to
himself.
90 PatHways or PHILOSOPHY

The quality of the personality magnet is determined by

internal consciousness. We draw to us that which is like us.
If the will and the imagination be corrupt, the magnetic
power of this corruption gathers similar corruption from
chaos, and our evils are multiplied.
Diseases have their magnetic qualities; in fact they are
entities of magnetism. It is possible to treat disease by trans-
plantation. Magnetism is closely identified with the blood,
which Goethe called ‘a most peculiar essence’. The Para-
celsian technique was to transplant a disease by transferring
a part of the infected substance to some neutral media. A
few drops of a sick man’s blood, if introduced under the
bark of a tree, brought no evil to the tree; in fact it might
even benefit its growth. Vitalized by the life of the tree the
drops of blood became a powerful magnet and could draw
to themselves all of the ailment which was afflicting the pa-
tient. The result of these speculations was a complete system
of sympathetic medicine, which was climaxed a century later
by the famous weapon salve of Sir Kenelm Digby. This
was a method of treating wounds by applying the medication
to the body of the weapon which inflicted the wound, in-
stead of to the body of the victim.
Paracelsus came to regard medicines as carriers of magnet-
ism. It was not the drugs themselves which wrought the
cures; rather they set up polarities in the body which drew
healthy magnetic forces from the universe to combat the
unhealthy magnetic vortexes in the body of the sufferer. He
sought to capture the magnetism of the planets in dew which
he gathered on glass plates at night when the planets were in
certain aspects to each other. This dew was useful only if
it did not touch the earth, for such contact demagnetized it
and destroyed its subtle virtue.
 NEOPLATONISTS OF THE RENNAISSANCE 91

The magnetic speculations of Paracelsus inspired the

system of animal magnetism evolved by Friedrich Anton
Mesmer. If we substitute the modern word vibration for the
Paracelsian term magnetism, the significance of the Swiss
physician’s discovery is immediately apparent. He was work-
ing with the principles of vibratory sympathy and antipathy,
but lacked the terms we use today.
Among the Paracelsians must be included Jan Baptista
van Helmont, the discoverer of illuminating gas; Johann
Reuchlin, a biblical theosophist who did much to emphasize
the mystical content of the Scriptures; Heinrich Cornelius
Agrippa, a great magician and cabalist; and Robert Fludd,
the English physician and Rosicrucian who extended the
research in magnetism. Fludd was one of the men who
opposed the materialistic opinions of Johannes Kepler, the
astronomer.
A link between Paracelsus and Friedrich Anton Mesmer
was Valentine Greatrakes, an Irishman born in 1628. Great-
rakes suffered persecution because he was able to cure a
variety of diseases by stroking the body with his hands.
Robert Boyle, the British physicist and chemist, testified that
Greatrakes was able to cure blindness, deafness, paralysis,
dropsy, ulcers, and all kinds of fevers, by his knowledge of
magnetism.
Johan Gassner, a German Roman Catholic priest, caused
much excitement about 1758 by his use of magnetic-spiritual
means in curing disease. Hundreds of patients visited him
daily. He wore a blue and red flowered cloak and a silk
sash. About his neck was a chain containing a fragment of
the true cross. On many occasions disease departed from the
patient when Herr Gassner politely requested it to leave. In
some cases he recommended simple remedies, but for the
92 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

most part he used nothing more than a knowledge of the

direction of the magnetic forces.
Emanuel Swedenborg reveals a definite knowledge of the
Paracelsian theories, and Jakob Boehme shows in his writings
his constant indebtedness to Paracelsus. The findings of these
earlier mystics were gathered into a psychophysical system of
therapy by Mesmer. Even Benjamin Franklin investigated
the findings of Mesmer in connection with his research in
electricity. In recent years hypnotism and suggestive therapy
in general have been evolved from Paracelsian hints and
suggestions. Modern systems of electric therapy, and those
advocating the use of vibration in the treatment of disease,
are following in the same path.
No less extraordinary was Paracelsus’ opinion about
alchemy. He approached the transmutation of metals by a
study of the digestive processes in the human body. Man
takes into his mouth a variety of food for the nourishment
of his body and mind. This food is like the base metals
which the alchemist collects for his experiment. Is it any
more remarkable that gold can be produced through the
union of salt, sulphur, and mercury, than that the corporeal
constitution can be preserved by frequent intakings of roast
beef and good Flemish wine? A wide variety of food is
grist for the human mill, yet man does not resemble that
which he eats, nor does the food set up confusion or conflict
in his personality. There is only one answer, and that is
that the food itself is not the source of nutrition; it is the
media for universal energy, and it is this energy which renews
life. The digestive processes separate this energy as a neutral
force which may then be adapted to the needs of the human
system.
 NEOPLATONISTS OF THE RENNAISSANCE 93

Man lives upon life; some parts he sustains by assimilation

of food, while other parts are nourished by the light of the
sun, the influence of the stars, and the energy in the atmos-
phere. There are also invisible fountains of nutrition by which
the mind and spirit are nourished. In each instance the food
must first be digested, that is, the germ extracted from the
husk. A neutral vital agent exists in all things and is the
life of all things. This agent is the philosophical gold. It is
not actually manufactured; it is released through an al-
chemical process called digestion. This agent is pure magnet-
ism, the vital principle. It might almost appear that Para-
celsus was juggling with the theory of vitamins.

Spiritual Alchemy

Besides physical alchemy there is also spiritual transmuta-

tion. God is the philosophers’ gold. The divine power
digested into human nature by faith becomes the life of the
soul. Truth digested into the human mind by will and im-
agination becomes the life of the intellect. In the ultimate
the physical, mental, and spiritual life are one essence mani-
festing differently in the three orders of the world. It is pos-
sible to create artificial gold by nurturing or feeding the seed
of gold which is present in all bodies.
The German mystic Jakob Boehme made use of the Para-
celsian concept in his symbolism of the soul tree. He de-
scribed the seed of the soul as planted in the human heart.
When the light of the spiritual sun touches this seed it
germinates and releases its power. The seed grows into a
tree when it is nourished by the spiritual and mystical aspira-
tions. All spiritual things grow if they are fed spiritualized
vitality.
94 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

Paracelsus believed that metals grow in the earth and

that the veins of the precious substances spread through the
rocks like the branches and twigs of a growing plant. Some
years ago I had the privilege of examining a gold plant grow-
ing in a sealed retort. It had slowly increased in size until
it was about an inch and a half high and resembled in texture
a delicate fern. Paracelsus learned from the miners that gold
and silver replenish themselves in some strange way, appear-
ing in considerable quantity where a few years before they
did not exist. Later alchemists wrote extensively on this
theme.
One of the most fantastic of the Paracelsian speculations
concerned the creation of an homunculus, an artificial human
being which could be fashioned by alchemical means. It
would require forty days to generate the homunculus in a
glass phial. The creature must be nourished with human
blood, and after an appropriate time in its glass womb it
could be released to develop like an ordinary child. It is
especially noted that the physical education of an homunculus
requires extreme care and attention. Of course the stcry of
the homunculus is a philosophical fable. But Paracelsus in-
sisted that all fables which exist according to art and nature
are possible as physical operations. According to the accounts
given in the early manifestoes of the Rosicrucian order its
illustrious founder, the mysterious Father C. R. C., was an
homunculus. It is said that he was generated and quickened
in a womb of glass.
An ancient formula says, “That which is formed by na-
ture is perfected by art.” The homunculus is the philosoph-
ical adept; it is the product of the spagyric disciplines. The
fable is intended to convey the spiritual end for which the
alchemical arts were conceived. The alchemist must nourish
 NEOPLATONISTS OF THE RENNAISSANCE 95

the homunculus with his own blood; that is, the soul must
be fed by the vital substances of the body.

The Submundanes

Paracelsus gave considerable attention to the submundanes,

the creatures which inhabit the four simple elements which
make up physical substances. His opinions about these crea-
tures were strongly influenced by his contact with Islamic
scholars. He recognized four elements: earth, water, fire,
and air. Each of these is a vibratory world of its own, and
in each of these worlds species and races of living creatures
exist. The submundanes or elementals differ from man in
one particular. The human creature is a composite; that is,
he has a personality composed of all of the elements ensouled
by an immortal spirit. The bodies of the elementals are
fashioned from the single element in which they exist.
They possess no immortal spirit, but because there is no con-
fusion in their bodies they live to great age and at death are
completely reabsorbed into their element.
Paracelsus called the creatures of the earth element
gnomes and giants; those of the water element undines and
nymphs; those of the fire element salamanders; and those
of the air element sylphs. The submundanes are divided
into tribes and are ruled over by kings and princes. The
gnomes build cities and guard the treasures of the earth.
The salamanders, because of their fiery natures, are dangerous
to human beings. All! of the elementals are capricious, and
often play pranks on mortals. They are not essentially evil,
although their playfulness is sometimes discomfiting.
He also recognized the existence of artificial elementaries
created from the thoughts of men. Most important of these
6 PaTHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

were the incubus and the succubus. The first was a male and
the second a female entity. Both were evil, and are often
confused with demons. They impel to degenerate action
and are created from the secret evil impulses of mortals.
If we interpret the old accounts of the incubi in terms of
modern psychology we will find that they are equivalent to
complexes and fixations arising from emotional frustrations.
The principal end of alchemical and magical speculation
is the discovery of the philosophers’ stone. Paracelsus wrote
of this mystery under the name Azoth, the strange jewel
which he carried in the hilt of his sword. It was in Constan-
tinople that he was initiated into the secret of the Azoth.
The jewel of alchemy is the rose diamond, the stone of great
price. Azoth is in reality the diamond soul of the world.
In man it is the perfected spirit, in nature it is universal
life, and in alchemy it is the universal medicine, the powder
of projection—the Red Lion. Who possesses it possesses the
secret of life, and by its power can transmute all substances
into pure gold. So powerful is the stone that it will trans-
mute one hundred thousand times its own weight.
Paracelsus has been accused of being party to the folly of
the gold makers. But he explains his position by the simple
statement that the philosophers’ stone is Christ. As faith
transmutes doubt into perfect belief, as wisdom transmutes
knowledge into truth, and as virtue transforms mortal nature
into an immortal being, so the light of God, the diamond
soul of the world, —if understood and directed by art—raises
all things from a corrupt state to a condition of incorrupti-
bility.
Our principle purpose in this book is to trace the descent
of Platonism and Neoplatonism through the intellectual his-
tory of the world. As the veins of gold spread through the
 NEOPLATONISTS OF THE RENNAISSANCE 97

rocks, so the golden tradition has grown and increased

throughout the ages. Nourished by the intellectual vitality
of devoted scholars the seed of philosophy has grown into
a great tree whose fruit is for the healing of the nations.
The mysticism of Neoplatonism permeates all of the
writings of Paracelsus, and he applied this spirit particularly
to the sciences. He became an interpreter, a ‘secretary of
nature’. Like the Neoplatonists he was devoted to theurgy,
the divine magic. His concept of the universe was in accord
with the classical tradition, and like the initiated Greeks he
was a pantheistic monotheist. He believed in one God,
supreme and all-powerful, manifesting through a secondary
order of divinities who were the rulers of the particulars in
life and nature. He taught a doctrine of signatures and seals.
All physical things bore upon them and within them the
stamp and signature of divine power.
To Paracelsus the whole world was like a great book writ-
ten in a strange language. All the forms in nature were
letters and words, and he was really learned who could read
this book and discover the one story that was concealed yet
magnificently revealed by the words and letters. Foolish
scholastics were satisfied to ponder the words of Galen and
Avicenna. He challenged the benighted schoolmen to leave
the books written by men and turn to the great book written
by the finger of God. Why should we suffer and die from
opinions in the midst of facts?
Because we have not learned to read the magical alphabet
of nature we are inclined to deny its very existence. This
is as foolish as to say that the writings of Hippocrates do not
exist merely because we have neither the time nor the in-
clination to study Greek or Latin. Incidentally, Hippocrates
was the one authority whose writings met the Paracelsian
98 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

standard. Hippocrates was an observer; he set up clinics and

studied disease at firsthand. He tested his remedies, and
he and his sons carefuly recorded the results. This was the
type of mind that Paracelsus respected. Hippocrates had
learned to read the seals and signatures.
Never were mystical abstractions and physical facts more
completely synthesized in one personality than in Paracelsus.
He taught magic and at the same time attacked all vagary
and superstition. He practiced astrology, and criticized his
contemporaries for depending upon unproved theory. He
compounded alchemical formulas, and blamed the chemists
for their useless prescriptions. All this was because to him
the spiritual mysteries were the realities, the solid foundations
of all the material sciences. The effects of his doctrines
were broad and numerous. All medicine was reformed by
the precepts which he laid down.
It is common to borrow from authority that which fits
our own prejudices and discard the rest. We admire the
politics of Plato and ignore his theology. In the same way
we respect Paracelsus for his scientific discoveries and ridicule
him for his mystical speculations.
In the eye of the mind we can conjure up a vision of
the Swiss Hermes, that pompous little man with his bald
head, his bulbous nose, and his awkward, ungainly body.
Over his shabby raiment is a short cape much the worse for
wear, and a bonnet with a stumpy feather sits jauntily over
one ear. He wears the sword of a cavalier and has the man-
ner of a king. “Stupid mortals!” he cries as he swaggers
up and down. “Eagerly you eat the husk and throw away
the kernel. You grasp at physical knowledge and deny the
spiritual foundation of life. You cling to your pills and
 NEOPLATONISTS OF THE RENNAISSANCE 99

poultices, and die of physics and emetics. Go ahead and die

and see who cares! You will never be wise or happy or
healthy until you build a new science upon the wisdom of
God. It is God who is the physician, and he has supplied all
his creatures with the medicines that are necessary. Depart
from the stupid mumbling of traditional science and seek
truth along the open road that leads to the greater world.”
 4
THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING

Francis BACON

Ape quaint little English city of St. Albans stands on the

site of Verulamium, the old Roman capital, twenty
miles northwest of London. The city was sacked and burned
A. D. 61 by the British queen, Boadicea. It was rebuilt in the
time of the Roman Emperor Hadrian sometime between 117
and 138, and became a walled city.
In the year 303 a Roman soldier of British birth by the
name of Alban was stationed at Verulamium. A British
Christian priest, Amphibalus, was being persecuted for the
preaching of his faith. Alban was so impressed by the cour-
age and sanctity of this holy man that he became converted
to Christianity and helped the priest escape his enemies at
the cost of his own life. Alban was brought to the site of the
present church and there beheaded. It was from the mar-
tyrdom of this Roman soldier that St. Albans received its
modern name.
The little church of St. Michael, which was founded in
the 10th century, stands within the boundaries of the old
Roman city. Its Norman arches rise from old Saxon footings,

100
Francis BAcon
 THe ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING 101 -

and in an arched niche in the wall of the chancel is a life-size

statue of Francis, Baron Verulam, Viscount St. Albans, better
known as Lord Bacon.
His lordship is represented in a pensive mood, seated in
a great chair. He wears his broad-brimmed hat and wide
ruff, and his shoes are ornamented with bows in the form of
roses. One morning some years ago when the caretaker
opened St. Michael’s church he found the statue of Francis
Bacon lying on the floor of the chancel. Persons unknown
had committed this deed of vandalism. There was an open-
ing in the back of the statue, but the contents, whatever they
may have been, had been stolen.
Tourists from all parts of the world visit England and
pay homage at the shrines of illustrious men and women,
but only a few go to the little church of St. Michael to honor
the memory of a man who was one of the noblest births
of time. Even fewer ride out from St. Albans along the
pleasant country road past the excavations of Roman streets
and pavements to the ruins of Gorhambury. In the late after-
noon a heavy mist hangs over the countryside; gnarled trees
rise from the lush dampness of the rich earth, and shaggy,
long-haired sheep graze thereabout. Alone in a meadow
stands the present home of the Lords of Verulam. The
house with its Grecian columns resembles a county court-
house, and seems strangely out of place. A short distance
farther on stand the ancient foundations of Gorharmbury.
Little remains of the house but one corner, which has the
appearance of a squat tower. The original house was of no
great size, but there lived old Sir Nicholas Bacon, genial and
profound, one of England’s wisest statesmen. There Queen
Elizabeth brought her court to watch the plays and panto-
mimes composed for her by young Francis. Later, grown
102 Patuways oF PHILosopHYy

to manhood and power, Francis wrote and rested there. In

all England there is no shrine of learning more deserving of
remembrance, and none more completely forgotten.
A veil of mystery hangs over the personal history of
Francis Bacon, but this is not the appropriate place to enter
into an elaborate discussion of the controversy which rages
about his origin. It is only fair to the reader, however, to
acknowledge that the circumstances of his birth are obscure.
A number of Baconians are convinced that he was the son of
Queen Elizabeth and Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, that
his real name was Francis Tudor, and that he was the legiti-
mate heir to the throne of England. These same Baconians
have sought to advance his cause as the concealed author of
the Shakespearean plays. But Bacon the mystic, the poet,
and the chancellor of the Empire of the Muses, belongs out-
side of our present inquiry. We are concerned with Bacon
the Platonic philosopher, the first organized thinker of the
English speaking world. For this reason we shall make
reference principally to his acknowledged writings and the
important commentaries thereon.
Yet it is not possible to estimate a man’s works entirely
apart from the man himself. We must venture a little way
toward an interpretation of Bacon the man if we are to
understand Bacon the philosopher.
According to common theory Francis Bacon was born at
York House in the Strand, London, on the 22nd day of
January, 1561. It is usual to accept the published statement
that he was the son of Sir Nicholas Bacon, lord keeper of the
great seal and one of the most valued and trusted of the elder
statesmen at the court of Elizabeth. His mother, according
to this account, was Lady Anne Bacon, the daughter of Sir
Anthony Cooke who had been the tutor of Edward VI.
 THe ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING 103

Lady Anne was a woman of unusual education for her time,

being especially well-read in the classics.
Although Sir Nicholas was never rewarded by a peerage,
he shared the most private confidences of the queen, and as
lord keeper exercised an influence beyond his station. Ac-
companied by her favorite, the Earl of Leicester, and a gay
retinue of the court, Elizabeth often rode out to Gorhambury,
the modest estate of the lord keeper at St. Albans. On one
occasion she appeared unexpectedly with half a hundred at-
tendants. Sir Nicholas murmured apologies to the effect
that his establishment had no place for such a number of
guests. Elizabeth, who expected the best but seldom sup-
plied the means, remarked petulantly, “My Lord Keeper.
your house is not great enough for your person.” Sir Nich-
olas, whose wit was the marvel of his time, bowed solemnly,
“Alas, madam, I fear that you have made my person too great
for my house.”
Elizabeth’s visits to Gorhambury were usually under the
pretext of state business. It was rather obvious, however, that
her principal interest was young Francis, whom she affection-
ately designated, “My little Lord Keeper.”
Even as a small boy Francis possessed the grace and digni-
ty of a courtier. He was slight of body and delicate of
constitution, with the eyes of a dreamer and a manner far
older than his years. He was a favorite of all the nobles, who
had not yet learned to fear his mind.
There is no satisfactory account of Bacon’s early schooling,
but it is supposed that he learned the humanities from his
mother. It is also likely that tutors were appointed for him
as appropriate to his estate. He and his half brother Anthony
were inseparable, and in later years Anthony was frequently
called upon to rescue him from financial difficulties.
104 PatHways oF PHILOSOPHY

Formal education began early in those days, and Francis

was only twelve when he and Anthony were entered at Trin-
ity College, Cambridge. The schools of the time were in a
lamentable condition of scholastic decadence. The buildings
were in foul repair and practically without sanitation. The
rooms where the students lived were like cold, clammy cells
never touched by the light of the sun. The headmasters were
disciplinarians with little understanding of human nature
and less interest in the subject. The curriculum was utterly
sterile, and most of the rich men’s sons led lives of genteel
debauchery. The only records preserved by some of these old
colleges were accounts of the amount of beer and ale con-
sumed by the student body during a semester.
Francis Bacon endured Cambridge for three years, and
during that period developed an intense dislike for the scholas-
tic system. His mind sickened at what passed for learning,
and his body sickened because of the unhealthful environ-
ment. While he was at Cambridge there was a visitation of
the plague, and it was necessary temporarily to close the col-
lege. During his Cambridge years he came to his famous
conclusion that the beginning of learning was to unlearn that
which one had been taught.
At Cambridge he was exposed to liberal doses of Aristotle,
but these had little effect upon his mind. He had no real
dislike for Aristotle, and refers to the great Greek philosopher
with all respect, but he heartily detested the interpretations of
Aristotle which dominated the intellectual world. Although
Henry VIII had broken the temporal power of the Church
of England, the universities were still dominated by the educa-
tional policies of the cloister schools. It has been pointed out
that although Bacon developed an encyclopedic grasp of near-
 Tue ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING 105

ly every branch of knowledge, he was always faulty in his

Aristotle. The Cambridge complex lingered on.
After leaving Trinity College Francis and Anthony en-
tered the society of lawyers at Gray’s Inn for the purpose of
establishing themselves in a learned profession. Although
Sir Nicholas held a position of great responsibility the family
was without large means, and it was necessary for the young
men to prepare for independent careers.
When Bacon was about sixteen he was sent abroad with
the British Ambassador to Paris. He remained in France
nearly three years, during which time he gained a practical
insight into the working of European politics. While in
Paris he began his experimentation with state ciphers and
secret methods of writing. At that time he perfected his
celebrated biliteral cipher, which he describes at length in
The Advancement of Learning. Examples of the use of this
cipher are to be found in many of his own books, as well as
in some contemporary publications. It is from the decoding
of his biliteral ciphers that we gain the story of his youthful
infatuation for Margaret, the young princess of Navarre. She
was the one great love of his life, and the hopelessness of this
romance left permanent scars in his personality.
In 1579 Sir Nicholas died suddenly, and Bacon hastened
home to meet the emergencies which resulted. Through
what history regards as an oversight, the lord keeper had not
properly provided for his youngest son. Baconians suggest
that he may have felt that his small estate belonged by right
to his own blood, and that the queen should come forward
and supply her son with appropriate means. But Elizabeth
did nothing, and Francis was little better than penniless.
Poverty has been called the disease of the wise, and through-
out his life Bacon was almost constantly in debt. He was
106 PaTHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

notably imprudent in the handling of money, and the social

requirements of his position demanded a good appearance.
In desperation he borrowed to survive, and had it not been
for the generosity of Anthony his condition would have been
unbearable. Like most intellectuals, young Francis lived in
a world of hopes and ideals. He was not thoughtful in small
matters, but it is not recorded that he ever failed to repay as
rapidly as his finances would permit.
Bacon said of himself, “I thought myself born to be of
advantage to mankind.” The first step was to become self-
supporting, so he took apartments with the society of lawyers
at Gray’s Inn and entered seriously into the profession of
law. The legal life of 16th-century England was burdened
by the corrupt machinery of the royal court. Justice was at
the mercy of the queen’s whims, the queen’s favorites, and
the conspiracies in the House of Lords. The formula for
rapid advancement was to select a powerful patron and
flatter one’s way through the maze of incompetence and cor-
ruption.
Bacon’s ultimate success, however, came not from easy
circumstances or strong patronage. He attempted the usual
course but failed miserably, due to his unwise selection of a
patron. According to history Sir William Cecil (Lord Burgh-
ley), lord high treasurer of England and one of the most
powerful men in the kingdom, was Bacon’s uncle. But he
had a son of his own whom he was seeking to advance.
The younger Burghley was cripplied in one foot and his
physical deformity may have influenced the father in his
behalf. In any event, Bacon’s suit developed nothing but
promises and evasions, and the promises were never kept.
Early in his political career he succeeded also in offending the
queen, a most disastrous circumstance. Some say that he was
 THe ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING 107

too outspoken in his political opinions, and the court gossips

made sure that Elizabeth received well-colored details. The
Baconians suggest that he demanded recognition as Eliza-
beth’s son, and the queen went into a trantrum that lasted
for days.
Bacon was forty-four when he proposed marriage to Alice
Barnham, whom he described in a letter to Robert Cecil as
“An alderman’s daughter, a handsome maiden to my liking.”
Alice, who was not yet twenty, was one of the seven daughters
of Lady Packington, an ambitious and cantankerous dowager.
After the death of Mr. Barnham of blessed memory, the
widow had made a fortunate second marriage, adding Sir
Packington’s means to the silver plate of her first husband.
Lady Packington had already married two of her daughters
to titles, and complained bitterly at the thought of her Alice
becoming plain Mrs. Bacon. She argued her dissatisfaction
with lawyer Bacon, who refused to argue back on the grounds
that no qualified attorney would debate without an appro-
priate fee. Bacon’s silence must have proved eloquent, for
Lady Packington was finally persuaded, sustained by the
thought that her prospective son-in-law stood in line to be-
come the king’s attorney. Her ladyship’s worst fears were
never realized, for in 1603 Bacon was knighted at Whitehall,
two days before James VI of Scotland was crowned King of
England.
It was not until 1606 that Sir Francis Bacon and Lady
Alice Barnham were married in the village church at Martle-
bone. Bacon’s trusted friend and literary associate, Lancelot
Andrews, who had been advanced to the bishopric of Chiches-
ter, performed the ceremony. Lady Packington was dis-
tressed by the absence of certain of the landed gentry, but
otherwise the service was a success. Music was supplied by
108 PaTHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

a selected group from Gray’s Inn. After the wedding Bacon

took his bride to Gorhambury and established her as the
mistress of his house. Lady Anne Bacon, then in advancing
years, received her daughter-in-law with motherly affection,
but was never entirely convinced that the wedding was legal.
To the end of her days she insisted that a social scandal was
being perpetrated under the family roof.
Some writers have attempted to prove that Bacon’s mar-
riage was motivated by ambition to advance his position or
estates, but the facts hardly justify such an accusation. The
alliance had no political implications, and the Barnhams were
country gentry in comfortable circumstances. It would have
taxed great wealth to provide a large dowry for seven daugh-
ters. We may accept Bacon’s own statement that he found in
Alice Barnham a maiden to his liking.
There is no indication that Lady Alice Bacon especially
influenced the career of her illustrious husband. Little is
known of their domestic life. Some writers have assumed
that the union was fortunate, and other authorities, equally
learned, have insisted that Alice early developed an unruly
temper. No children graced the union, and Bacon’s own
personality so dominated every public circumstance in which
he played a part that his domestic fortunes have passed un-
noticed.
Bacon’s friendship for the impetuous Earl of Essex brought
him some advancement and influence, but ended in the
tragic trial in which Bacon was forced to prosecute his own
friend for high treason. The circumstances of this trial have
been used against him, but the truth is that Essex was com-
pletely guilty as charged, and Bacon only fulfilled the duties
of his office, being sworn to the protection of the crown.
 THe ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING 109

During the long, trying years of struggle Bacon suc-

cessfully divided his attention between furthering his public
career and the development of his philosophical viewpoints.
He gained considerable reputation as an author, and drew
about himself the best minds of his time. His correspond-
ence was the heaviest of any man in England, and he was in
touch with most of the European intellectuals.
Bacon achieved his victory over adversity by the superior-
ity of his intellect alone, and it may be interesting to estimate
the extraordinary abilities which he possessed. The fountain
of his public power was his skill in language. One writer
has said of his literary style that “It is quaint, original, abound-
ing in allusions and witticisms, and rich, even to gorgeous-
ness, with piled-up analogies and metaphors.”
Bacon’s rare skill in the use of words was recognized by
his contemporaries. His friend of many years, Sir Tobias
Matthew, penned the following summary: “A man so rare
in knowledge, of so many several kinds, endowed with the
faculty and facility of expressing it all in so elegant, significant,
so abundant, and yet so choice and ravishing a way of
words.... perhaps the world hath not seen since it is a
world.” It is true that even a single sentence extracted from
Bacon’s writings can with certainty be attributed to him by
the purity and originality of the structure.
Bacon’s legal writings reveal him to have been a lawyer
of outstanding ability. It has been suggested that he was less
dogmatic and given to the letter of jurisprudence than some
of his contemporaries, but not one of them equaled him in
the searching out of justice. He chose to abide by the spirit
of legality, and his philosophic mind enabled him to weigh
evidence with consummate skill. It was his hope that he
would live long enough to digest and codify the whole struc-
110 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

ture of English law. Although he did not achieve his full

purpose he made important contributions which have in-
fluenced the legal profession even to our day.
As a literary man Bacon has left a number of short works
and a few of greater length which reveal his style to advan-
tage. One of his earliest writings, Essays or Counsels, Civil
and Moral, he dedicated first to beloved Anthony “That are
next myself.” This work is regarded as one of the choicest
examples of English literature, and the first edition is now
rare. All of his writings abound in short, well-turned sayings
which have survived as household mottoes. The forms are
startlingly reminiscent of the style of the Shakespearean plays,
and have given comfort and support to the Baconians.
But it is in philosophy that Bacon excelled all the minds
of his time. His legal training fitted him for ordered think-
ing, and his literary ability enabled him to express his
thoughts appropriately and elegantly. Through his philos-
ophy he has exercised his broadest influence on the sciences
and arts. Though not primarily a scientist, his opinions and
methods have become the principal forces in molding the
modern scientific attitude.
After Queen Elizabeth’s death in 1603 Bacon’s fortunes
improved, for in some mysterious way she had thwarted his
every purpose. James VI of Scotland, the son of the ill-fated
Mary Queen of Scots, was crowned King of England as
James I. He was in most respects a total failure as a king.
His manners offended the court, he spoke with a broad
Scottish burr, and was ridiculed as a porridge eater from
the north. He had neither the confidence of his ministers
nor the support of his people. Effeminate, timid, and ex-
travagant, he had few of the qualities of a ruler. His one
virtue seems to have been that he recognized Francis Bacon’s
 THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING 111

abilities. He advanced Bacon in office eight times, and en-

nobled him three times.
First the Scottish monarch created Bacon a knight, then
elevated him to the peerage in 1618 with the title Baron Ver-
ulam, and in 1621 made him Viscount St. Albans. When
he was appointed lord high chancellor it placed him in
power next to the crown. When the king was away from
London Bacon was virtually regent, and for years he exercised
an authority almost equal to that of king.
Fate plays strange tricks on mortals. The greatest mind
in Europe knelt humbly before one of the feeblest intellects
in the land. Never for a moment did Bacon reveal the irony
of the situation. He supported James in every possible way,
counseling him, pleading for the good of the people, and
warning him of the consequences of his follies. In this way
Bacon followed in the footsteps of rare old Sir Nicholas. He
became the great beacon of the state, always dependable, al-
ways respected, but never rewarded in a manner that would
free him from economic pressure.
King James saved every available penny for his favorite,
the Duke of Buckingham, for whom he had developed an
unnatural affection. Buckingham was extravagant, capri-
cious, vain, and fretful. The relationship became not only
a court scandal but a public outrage. Heavy taxes were levied
upon the already overburdened people to keep Buckingham
in fineries. Bacon had to stand by and watch this sorry
spectacle. True, the king was devoted to him, but the devo-
tion of James was frequently a liability. Bacon had to carry
most of the practical burdens, and stood between an out-
rageous king and an outraged citizenry.
The chancellor accomplished his difficult task and re-
tained the love of the king and the respect of the populace.
112 PaTHways OF PHILOSOPHY

This: security was a constant source of envy and concern to

the lords, who sensed with growing uneasiness the almost
unassailable position which Bacon had attained. The people
of England were on the verge of revolt. If revolution came
it was possible that he would inherit the government. There
is no indication that he ever intended to take advantage of
his power. As he always said, “I am the king’s man.” By
nature a scholar, the burdens of the state were already heavy
enough. ts
The famous bribery trial brought to an end Bacon’s po-
litical career. The circumstances of this unfortunate episode
have prejudiced the popular mind against the actual achieve-
ments of a truly great human being. As Addison said, “A
reader seldom peruses a book with pleasure till he knows
whether the writer of it be a black or a fair man.” Bacon
was convicted upon his own confession set forth in great
detail, but the conditions which brought about the confession
have not been properly examined. Before we condemn the
memory of any person whose life and character have been
above reproach, because of one particular offense, it is only
fair to examine the matter with all thoroughness.
-As the storm gathered, Bacon assumed that the whole
plot was a deliberate effort to ruin him. Such schemes were.
common to his time, and knowing his character to be without
blame he was inclined to take the matter lightly. He was
certain that he could prove his innocence of guilt before the:
assembled body of peers. He was in an extremely delicate
position, for by his oath of office he was sworn to protect the
person and authority of the king, In that capacity he was un-
able to express his own convictions on many subjects, and was
compelled to sign bills that he had yoted. against in com:
muttee,
 THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING 113

Corruption’ was to be expected in high places, and’ the

public mind was accustomed to the. burden, but James and
his court had abused the royal privileges. The entire govern:
ment was so undermined by plots and intrigue that the very
state was on the verge of collapse. Both the king and the
lords knew that a head must fall to restore public confidence,
and there were only two heads important enough to- satisfy
the populace—the king’s and the lord high chancellor’s.
The plan was to throw Bacon to the lions.
Bacon was popular with the people, and the first step was
to turn public opinion against him. He was charged with
the acceptance of bribes and the corruption of his office. His
accusers for the most part were enemies of years’ standing.
The witnesses against him were either hired perjurers or dis-
gruntled suitors who had lost their cases in chancery. One
witness was a convicted forger and extortioner by name
Churchill. This man was in such bad odor that even the
lords shuddered at his presence.
So flagrant and obvious was the machinery of the plot
that Bacon continued in his attitude of humorous contempt.
He knew that no reputable’ witness could be found who
would testify that his decisions as lord high chancellor had
ever been influenced by gifts or bribes. In fact, after three
hundred years and the examination of all of the cases in
which Bacon figured, no evidence has been found that he
ever compromised a decision for his own advantage. It was
customary for all public officials to receive gifts from grateful
clients or from those hoping to receive special consideration.
Bacon acknowledged this system to be corrupt but inevitable
as long as the state did not compensate public officials in a
way that would permit them to maintain themselves accord-
ing to the responsibilities of their stations,
114 PatTHways OF PHILOSOPHY

Bacon believed that when the time came he could clear

himself absolutely and bring about the final discomfiture of
his archenemy, the jealous and vindictive Sir Edward Coke,
and his associates. He most certainly would have succeeded
had it not been for the king. It was necessary for Bacon
to decide between the vindication of his own name and the
preservation of his monarch. He was under oath to sustain
the dignity and order of the state. For this consideration he
sacrificed his own reputation. James on bended knee im-
plored him to save the ruling house of England by pleading
guilty to crimes which he had not committed. It was the
most difficult decision that Bacon ever made. But after
mature deliberation he resolved to sacrifice himself. He
framed his complete confession, answering each of the twen-
ty-eight articles of the charge, and although the most bril-
liant and subtle lawyer in Europe he made no effort in his
own defense.
It is interesting to note in reviving Bacon’s confession
that while he acknowledged the corruption of his office by a
general statement, there is no acknowledgment of corruption
to any of the twenty-eight particular accusations. The con-
fession is in reality merely the acknowledgment of the accept-
ance of gifts, in some cases bestowed long after the termina-
tion of the case. A careful reading of the confession will
make it evident to any fair-minded person that the chancellor
most certainly could have defended himself successfully had
he been so minded.
Found guilty upon this curious confession, Bacon was
fined forty thousand pounds, sentenced to imprisonment in
the tower during the king’s pleasure, declared incapable of
any public office, and deprived of his seat in Parliament. The
action of the king gives a clear indication of the facts of the
 THe ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING 115

case. James forgave the fine, Bacon’s imprisonment in the

tower lasted only three days, and though it is not generally
known Bacon did sit again in the House of Lords on at least
one occasion. The office of lord high chancellor was abol-
ished, and no man took Bacon’s place. It was not the penalty,
but the conviction that was sought. This attained, the rest
was forgiven.
It is difficult to keep the secrets of a royal court from the
knowledge of the people. Bacon left London quietly, and
was received at St. Albans not as a disgraced man but as a
public hero. He lost none of his friends and very little of
his influence. In fact, his conviction released him from the
thankless burdens of a political career. Settled quietly at
Gorhambury, he resumed the real work of his life. As phi-
losopher and scholar he continued his imperishable contribu-
tions to the intellectual and cultural progress of his world.
He continued to enjoy the friendship of his king, and in a
letter to him James wrote that his value to England was in-
finitely greater as a scholar than it ever could be as a poli-
tician.
According to history, Bacon lived five years after the ter-
mination of his public office. Always frail of health, the
burdens of state had drained his physical resources. Although
‘continually harassed by lack of funds, he continued his liter-
ary activities with some small assistance from the king, and a
number of his finest writings belong to this period.
In the spring of 1626 Bacon went to London, and while
there the thought came to his mind that snow might be useful
for the preserving of meat. To further his experiments he
purchased a dressed fowl from a villager and stuffed it with
snow. In handling the snow he contracted a severe cold.
116 - PatrHways oF PHILosopHY

The chill brought on bronchitis from which he died a-few

days later, April 9, 1626.
A careful reading of contemporary reports indicates that
there was considerable uncertainty concerning Bacon’s death.
At least three accounts exist, differing even as to the place
of his death. There is no satisfactory account to his funeral,
although most of the outstanding men of his day penned
extravagant tributes to his genius. .These tributes frequently
refer to him as the greatest poet of his time, although only
a half dozen short and unimportant verses have been with
certainty attributed to him.
There is a strong tradition held by a number of Baconians
that Bacon did not die in England, but choosing to be con-
sidered dead moved to Holland where he lived under an
assumed name for at least ten years, devoted to the activities
of a secret society which he had founded.

High Chancellor of Nature’s Laws

It has been said that the English language first became a

vehicle of philosophical literature by the publication of
Bacon’s Advancement of Learning in 1605. It cannot be
shown, however, that he did a great deal to popularize
national languages as a means to disseminate culture. Most
of his important writings were published first in Latin,
which he preferred as the tongue of scholarship.
The 17th century was an era of new foundations in think-
ing. Throughout Europe isolated intellectuals were develop-
ing along the lines of humanistic philosophy. At this point
mention should be made of the French philosopher René
Descartes (1596-1650). Bacon and Descartes are often re-
ferred to as sharing honors in the establishment of the scien-
 Tue ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING 117

tific viewpoint, but in the Cartesian system (the philosophy

of Descartes) much greater emphasis was laid on the nature
of God as the source of all certainty in the mind.~ Descartes
advanced one interesting and peculiar observation; he used
spelling as an example of the mental process. A man writing
along thoughtless of spelling is likely to spell correctly,
but
if he hesitates and ponders the construction of a word he
will pass into a state of uncertainty. The more he thinks and
isolates the single word in his mind the greater will be his
confusion, and misspelling will almost certainly result.
We are surrounded at all times by what appear to be orders
of fact. These remain certainties until we isolate them and
think each one through. Immediately uncertainties are
generated, resulting in an aphorism to the effect that the
more we. think the less we know. For this reason the igno-
rant. live in a. world of uncertain certainties which they never
question, but the wise inhabit a sphere of certain uncertainties
which are a constant. annoyance. to the intellect. Descartes
set up a-method for the definition of the boundaries of fact
by which the mind might have a number of basic truths
on which to build thesuperstructure ofa broad learning. His
opinions contributed considerably to the philosophy of Im-
manuel Kant, and in this way the stream of the Platonic
descent |was enriched. t

“Although Descartes was in certain respects influenced by

scholasticism, Bacon was comparatively free of this older
system, of philosophy. Formal scholasticism had entered its
last phase and. was, breaking down in all its, branches and
departments. Henry VIII had, helped to clear the. way for
Bacon in England, by breaking the power of the Church to
dominate the intellectual life of man. The mind, free of the
arbitrary limitations of theology, was exploring a variety of
118 PatuHways oF PHILOSOPHY

doctrines. Bacon did not claim to be an original thinker,

nor to have originated the basic theories which he promul-
gated. He defined himself and his position by saying that
he rang the bell that brought the wits together.
An engraving of Bacon by Watts appears in a number of
early editions of Bacon’s writings. The portrait shows him
seated at a table wearing his familiar hat. Above his head is
a wreath bearing the inscription, The Third Great Mind
Since Plato. There is no indication as to the identity of the
second mind; possibly Aristotle is intended.

The New Instrument of Knowledge

In the Novum Organum (the new instrumentality for the

acquisition of knowledge) Bacon classified the intellectual
fallacies of his time under four headings which he called
Idols. He distinguished them as Idols of the Tribe, Idols of
the Cave, Idols of the Marketplace, and Idols of the Theater.
An idol is an image, in this case held in the mind, which
receives veneration but is without substance in itself. Bacon
did not regard idols as symbols, but rather as fixations. In
this respect he anticipated modern psychology.
Idols of the Tribe are deceptive beliefs inherent in the
mind of man, and therefore belonging to the whole of the
human race. They are abstractions in error arising from
common tendencies to exaggeration, distortion, and dispro-
portion. Thus men gazing at the stars perceive the order of
the world, but are not content merely to contemplate or
record that which is seen. They extend their opinions, in-
vesting the starry heavens with innumerable imaginary quali-
ties. In a short time these imaginings gain dignity and are
mingled with the facts until the compounds become insepar-
 THe ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING 119

able. This may explain Bacon’s epitaph which is said to be

a summary of his whole method. It reads, “Let all com-
pounds be dissolved.”
Idols of the Cave are those which arise within the mind
of the individual. This mind is symbolically a cavern. The
thoughts of the individual roam about in this dark cave and
are variously modified by temperament, education, habit,
environment, and accident. Thus an individual who dedi-
cates his mind to some particular branch of learning becomes
possessed by his own peculiar interest, and interprets all
other learning according to the colors of his own devotion.
The chemist sees chemistry in all things, and the courtier
ever present at the rituals of the court unduly emphasizes the
significance of kings and princes.
The title page of Bacon’s New Atlantis (London 1626)
is ornamented with a curious design or printer’s device.
The winged figure of Father Time is shown lifting a female
figure from a dark cave. This represents truth resurrected
from the cavern of the intellect.
Idols of the Marketplace are errors arising from the false
significance bestowed upon words, and in this classification
Bacon anticipated the modern science of semantics. Accord-
ing to him it is the popular belief that men form their
thoughts into words in order to communicate their opinions
to others, but often words arise as substitutes for thoughts
and men think they have won an argument because they
have outtalked their opponents. The constant impact of
words variously used without attention to their true meaning
may in turn condition the understanding and breed fallacies.
Words often betray their own purpose, obscuring the very
thoughts they are designed to express.
120 Patuways oF PHiLosopHy

Idols of the Theater are those which are due to sophistry

and false learning. These idols are built up in the field of
theology, philosophy, and science, and because they are de-
fended by learned groups are accepted without question by
the masses. When false philosophies have been cultivated
and have attained a wide sphere of dominion in the world
of the intellect they are no longer questioned. False super-
structures are raised on false foundations, and in the end
systems barren of merit parade their grandeur on the stage
of the world.
Baconians are inclined to believe that Bacon’s allusions
to the theater refer to his participation in the Shakespearean
plays. This is not necessarily true, as a careful reading of the
Novum Organum will show. Bacon used the theater with
its curtain and its properties as a symbol of the world stage.
It might even be profitable to examine the Shakespearean
plays with this viewpoint in mind.
After summarizing the faults which distinguish the learn-
ing of his time, Bacon offered his solution. To him true
knowledge was the knowledge of causes. He defined physics
as the science of variable causes, and metaphysics as the science
of fixed causes. By this definition alone’ his position in the
Platonic descent is clearly revealed. Had he chosen Aristotle
as his mentor the definition would have been reversed.
It was Bacon’s intention to gather into one monumental
work his program for the renewal of the sciences. This he
called Instauratio Magna (the encyclopedia of all knowl-
edge), but unfortunately the project was never completed.
He left enough, however, so that other men could perfect
the work.
_ The philosophy of Francis Bacon reflects not only the
genius of his own mind but the experiences which result
 Tue ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING 121

from full and distinguished living. The very diversity of his

achievements contributed to the unity of his thinking. He
realized the importance of a balanced viewpoint, and he
built his patterns by combining the idealism of Plato with
the practical method of Aristotle. From Plato he derived a
breadth of vision, and from Aristotle a depth of penetration.
Like Socrates, he was an exponent of utility, and like Di-
ogenes a sworn enemy of sophistry. Knowledge was not to
be acquired merely for its own sake, which is learning, but
for its use, which is intelligence. The principal end of
philosophy is to improve the state of man; the merit of all
learning is to be determined by its measure of usefulness.
Bacon believed that the first step was to make a com-
prehensive survey of that which is known, as distinguished
from that which is believed. This attitude he seems to have
borrowed from Paracelsus and shared with Descartes.
Knowledge may be gathered from the past through tradition.
It may be accumulated and augmented by observation, but
it must be proved and established by experimentation. No
theory is important until it has been proved by method. Thus
Bacon set up the machinery of control which has since be-
come almost the fetish of science. |
Upon the solid foundation of the known, trained minds
can build toward universal knowing, which is the end of the
work. Knowledge alone can preserve and perfect human
life. In spite of his scientific approach, Bacon in no way
discounted the -spiritual content in the world. Knowledge
might arise from inspiration and the internal illumination
of the consciousness, but this illumination is not knowledge
until, through experimentation, the truth is physically estab:
lished.
122 Patuways oF PHILOSOPHY

Bacon’s Mystical Convictions

In his essay on atheism Bacon wrote: “I had rather be-

lieve all the fables in the Legend, and the Talmud, and the
Alcoran, than that this universal frame is without a mind.
And therefore God never wrought miracles to convince
atheism, because his ordinary works convince it. It is true
that a little philosophy inclineth man’s mind to atheism, but
depth in philosophy bringeth man’s mind about to religion.
For while the mind of man looketh upon second causes
scattered, it may sometimes rest in them and go no further.
But when it beholdeth the chain of them, confederated and
linked together, it must needs fly to providence and Deity.”
William Rawley, D. D., for many years Bacon’s chaplain
and personal friend, appends his Life of Bacon to his edition
of Bacon’s Resuscitatio. This biography includes many in-
timate details about Bacon’s mind and method of writing.
Rawley’s tribute to the mysticism of his master is worth
remembering in this day when scientists boast of their
materialism. “I have been enduced to think,” writes the
good chaplain, “that if there were a beam of knowledge,
derived from God, upon any man in these modern times,
it was upon him. For though he was a great reader of books,
yet he had not his knowledge from books, but from some
grounds and notions from within himself. Which, notwith-
standing, he vented with great caution and circumspection.”
In his writings Bacon labored with great care, striving for
perfection of knowledge rather than of style. Yet in the end
he achieved both. In preparing the outline for the Instaura-
tio he prepared twelve copies, revising the material year by
year before he committed it to the press. He kept extensive
 THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING 123

notebooks in which he recorded observations and experiments,

and brief statements of his own, together with quotations
from other authors. He seldom read for any great length of
time, but discovering in some author a passage which pleased
him he would leave his desk and walk in his garden or be
driven through the countryside in his coach. These inter-
ludes were his principal form of recreation.
There can be little doubt that Bacon made practical use
of Paracelsus and his doctrine of practical experience. There
is considerable similarity in the writings of the two men;
each gathered up a diversity of fragments relating to almost
every possible subject, and distilled from these collections the
elements of their philosophy. Bacon believed that the com-
plexity of the physical universe was in appearance rather than
in fact. Basic forms are limited in number and are a kind
of alphabet. By the combinations of forms, words are pro-
duced in an infinite diversity, and from these words the whole
language of nature is manifested. The important task is to
discover with certainty the basic letters and the rules govern-
ing their combinations.
Bacon uses the word “form” in an unusual way. Even
his own definitions are not entirely clear. A form is a definite
pattern, basic in nature and not susceptible to further reduc-
tion. The compounding of forms obscure their original
natures, and the human senses beholding the compounds are
lured into error.
To my mind one of the most important of Bacon’s apho-
risms is, “Nature is subdued only by submission.” In other
words, man masters the world by obeying the laws governing
the world. This is a simple Platonic statement and lies at
the root of all great systems of idealistic philosophy. Bacon
extends the thought by reminding the reader that perfect
124 PatHways OF PHILOSOPHY

obedience or submission is impossible without knowledge of

the laws to be obeyed. The purpose of science is to render
scientific the process of obedience.

Science is the Image of Truth

Science is nothing more than the image of truth. Absolute

truth is truth of being, and relative truth is truth of knowing.
These differ only as a direct ray of light differs from a re-
fracted ray; thus the difference is in degree rather than in
substance. Science corresponds to the refracted ray because
it-is truth which has passed through nature and man.
Bacon advocated experience and Descartes advocated specu-
lation as the means of discovering truth. Both methods have
survived, but speculation is now limited to those fields which
lie beyond the possibility of present experience. Scholastic
philosophy was almost entirely speculative and wandered
afield because it failed to set up the proper machinery to
estimate experience.
Nature presents itself to the human understanding as a
direct ray of light. We see about us at all times certain facts,
in themselves useful but not in themselves complete. To
accept nature as all is an error. To refuse nature and take
refuge in abstract theology is equally wrong. It is not given
to man to perceive God directly, but the divine will is reflected
from the face of nature and may be examined indirectly:
Thus it appears that Bacon did not break with religion; in
fact, he bestowed a dignity upon religious fact far greater
and more reasonable than theology ever imagined.
In his search for essentials Bacon accumulated a variety of
interesting lore. In The History of Life and Death he exam-
ined ancient and modern examples of longevity in an effort to
 THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING 125

determine the form of human submission which. extended

the duration of life. In the Natural History of Winds he ex-
plored the phenomena of atmosphere. And in the Sylva
Sylvarum he gathers a quantity of notes relating to natural
history. His purpose in each instance was to discover the
form behind the phenomena—the pattern governing the com-
plex.
While it is not possible for the average person to follow
all of Bacon’s processes, there are certain conclusions concern-
ing the morality of thinking which are practical for all. He
advised each human being to live thoughtfully and to search
for the universal realities that lie concealed within and be-
neath the commonplace. By observation and thought life
can become meaningful, and each can preserve himself from
common faults and contribute to the security and improve-
ment of others.
It is more important to think one small thought through
to’ its reasonable end than to accept without examination a
brilliant solution submitted by another.. We grow by think-
ing, not by agreeing or by accepting. The thoughts of others
may be important, but they are not valuable to us until we
have justified them by personal application. That which is
beyond application is unprofitable.
It is important also to divide clearly in our minds that
which is known by experience and that which is accumulated
from hearsay. Before accepting as true any report on any
subject we should ask ourselves, “Do I know this to be true
by experience?” Information which cannot be maintained
by this criterion need not be rejected, but should be held
separate from fact lest we become worshipers of idols.
In our day facts are more available than in the time of
Bacon, but conversely, they are subject to many more distor-
126 PaTHways OF PHILOSOPHY

tions. We are more swayed by public and private opinion

than ever before. It is good to be attentive to all opinions,
but a disaster to attempt to live according to their conflict.
To be swayed by the motion of the masses is to lose our own
center and become the victim of our times.

Bacon, the Neoplatonist

The place of Francis Bacon in the Platonic and Neopla-

tonic descent is rather obvious. He restated the Platonic doc-
trine of ideas—that all particulars are suspended from gen-
erals in nature. But he simplified these generals, bringing
them within the province of the mind. He called men to
the discovery of their own estate in nature. He did not
regard philosophy as an endless quest, to be perfected only
in eternity. He believed perfection to be imminent and
attainable. A complete system of thinking is possible now,
although new applications of it may develop throughout
time. Once the mind is on the right track, doubts end and
certainties appear. Upon these certainties men can build in-
definitely without need for periodic renovation of their beliefs.
Discord in knowledge will end, and energy may be conserved
for the essential task and not dissipated in pointless contro-
versy.
When man desires truth as wholeheartedly as he now
defends his false opinions, truth will be available. Truth is
not distant, but present in all things awaiting discovery. The
simplest way to discover truth is to be receptive rather than
belligerent in the quest. The universe will not be taken by
storm, but will reward obedience with the richest of her
treasures.
 Tue ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING 127

Although the published writings of Francis Bacon are not

especially concerned with theology or metaphysics, his in-
fluence in these spheres was considerable. By drawing a clear
line of demarcation between reason and faith, he clarified
questions which had confused the minds of men for thou-
sands of years. It is useless to direct the reasoning power
toward that which is beyond its province. Ultimates must be
experienced by faith alone. The trained mind can avoid
certain errors common to untrained belief, but it cannot
explore the world of spiritual abstraction. Faith must stand
as man’s link with the infinite. It is at the root of reason,
preserving the reasonableness of nature and justifying the
struggle of the intellect to know.
In metaphysics Bacon’s writings have been a constant
fountain of inspiration and idealism. The heroic stature of
his mind has attracted the admiration of most idealists. His
method has given form and pattern to metaphysical specula-
tion, bringing it within the boundaries of universal law and
order. Emphasis upon utility, which is present throughout
his writings, has helped to release mysticism from its bondage
to abstraction. The average mystic is more concerned with
his own internal experiences than the furtherance of human
society. He enriches his inner life, but is content with this
enrichment and seldom translates his faith into action.
Bacon’s influence has accomplished much in breaking down
metaphysical isolationism.
It has been said that the effect of Bacon’s teachings was
both immediate and lasting. He is referred to, quoted, and
certain of his ideas borrowed, by most of the scientists and
philosophers who have followed him in time. The immediate
effect of his method is thus evident. In his last will and
testament he bequeathes himself to posterity, “For my name
128 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

and memory I leave it to men’s charitable speeches, and to

foreign nations, and the next ages.”
Dr. Rawley said of Sir Francis Bacon, “To give the true
value to his lordship’s worth, there were more need of another
Homer.” ‘This is the estimation of those who knew him
well, shared his thoughts, and labored with him for the com-
mon good. If his philosophy can be summarized in a single
statement it may be found in his own words from the Novum
Organum, “Knowledge and human power are synonymous,
since the ignorance of the cause frustrates the effect.”
It is rare to find a man who can attain greatness in several
departments of learning. In the case of Bacon we find com-
bined in equal excellence the orator and the writer, the
philosopher and the scientist, the statesman and the poet.
These diverse interests would doubtless have destroyed a lesser
mind, but Bacon ordered his life with his own philosophy.
Prudent in success, patient in adversity, he combined the
breadth and depth of his thinking with the simple model of
a gentle Christian spirit.
It is not known that Bacon ever spoke critically or un-
kindly of any man. On one occasion King James asked his
opinion of the character of a certain statesman recently de-
ceased. This man had been Bacon’s enemy and a doubtful
servant of the state. Bacon replied that he feared the deceased
would never have made His Majesty’s estate any better, but
would certainly have tried to keep it from being worse.
This is probably Bacon’s harshest criticism. Nor did he
work for the ruin of any other person, nor attempt to advance
his own interest at the expense of another. It is interesting,
especially in the light of the charges against him, that al-
though many of his legal decisions were appealed, not one
was ever reversed.
 THe ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING 129

Diversity Within Unity

In our age of specialization it is deemed inadvisable for a

man to divide his interests; success demands single-pointed
effort. Yet Bacon is the proof that diversity of interests is
not only possible but important to the balance of the mind.
This diversity, however, must be enclosed within a unity of
purpose. Where vision is lacking confusion is inevitable.
But philosophy binds all knowledge to the common purpose.
of utility.
Bacon will always belong to the next ages. He was the
first great Brahman of the West, and two hundred years later
another was to arise worthy of sharing this title-—Ralph
Waldo Emerson.
Bacon as one of the great leaders of human thought can
never be separated from his philosophy. He was a part of
it. It was his own personal power, as much as his ideas,
that changed the mind of his time. He stands before the
world, his robes of state damasked with the roses of the
Tudors. Long curling hair frames the brow of a sage and
falls in ringlets on his wide white ruff. In one hand he
carries the seal of Great Britain in a tasseled pouch, and in
the other a slender gold-topped cane. With gentle humility
he bows before the English throne, “The only gift which I
can give Your Majesty is that which God hath given to me;
which is a mind, in all humbleness, to wait upon your com-
mandments.”
Several modern writers with a flair for psychology have
attempted to explain Bacon’s extraordinary career by suggest-
ing that he suffered from the consequences of a dual person-
ality. These scribes would convince us that he was, in truth,
130 PaTHways OF PHILOSOPHY

two men in one body. The first, the noblest and most
learned of his age; the second a scheming, self-seeking politi-
cian finally caught in the net of his own misdeeds.
Conflicting historical accounts are thus advanced to prove
a conflict in the man himself. But the more deeply we study
Bacon’s life and works, the more apparent it becomes that he
was a completely unified human being. Although he ex-
celled in several departments of knowledge, his numerous
roles were suspended from one sovereign purpose. Necessity
often dictated his selection of methods, but the ends to be
accomplished were clear and unchanging. He played many
parts, always with consummate skill, and this very skill has
influenced adversely the minds of most historians. His pur-
poses were all parts of one purpose—the restoration of the
philosophic empire.
 ig
nee

ee

Jaxon BorEHME
 3
THE MYSTICAL TRADITION

Jaxos BoEHME, THE TEUTONIC THEOSOPHER

HE word mysticism is derived from the Greek mystes

which means to shut the eyes, and in a more general
sense was applied anciently to the philosophy of those who
had been initiated into the mysteries. The mysteries were
rituals, pageants, and theatrical performances, designed to en-
lighten the consciousness through the beholding of divine
matters.
Mystical theories are difficult of explanation because they
refer to a feeling or thought which is beyond the normal
experience of man. There are two kinds of mysticism, the
first philosophic and the second religious. Philosophic mys-
ticism is speculative, and is devoted to the problem of man’s
participation in the consciousness of God. Religious mys-
ticism is termed practical because it is a way of life based
upon a complete passive submission to the will of Deity.
The Orient is the natural home of mystical tradition.
Both Brahmanism and Buddhism alike taught the unreality
of material life and material ambition. The supreme accom-
plishment was the absorption of the personal self into the
consciousness of universal being. The Taoism of China is

131
132 PatHWays OF PHILOSOPHY

grounded in the same basic conviction, though in practice

it has taken on a magical intellectualism. The Persian Sufis
and the Dervishes of Arabia are the most important of the
Near-Eastern mystics. With them art, music, and literature
modify the severity of the mystical tradition, and they have
been considerably involved in speculative idealism.
The Greeks were not by nature mystics. They loved nature
and found physical living a happy and satisfactory state. Mys-
ticism flourishes in an atmosphere of frustration, and the
classical Greeks had few inhibitions. Possibly Pythagoras
came the nearest to the mystical viewpoint, but he was too
much of a scientist and philosopher to be completely domi-
nated by divine enthusiasm. If the theological writings of
Plato had been more generally read and understood he would
have been included among the practical mystics. As it is,
he is remembered chiefly as an idealist struggling with the
problem of perfecting a system of philosophical government.
The opening centuries of the Christian era brought with
them a general collapse of classical culture. To the degree
that the difficulties of physical living increased, the natural
mysticism in human consciousness was strengthened. The
North African city of Alexandria became the center of the
intellectual world. Scholars came from all of the Mediter-
ranean countries to study in the great libraries which had
been established there under the patronage of the Pharaohs.
Greek masters set up their schools, and a golden era of learn-
ing resulted. But Alexandrian scholarship was shadowed by
an all-pervading melancholy. The era of happy pantheism
was coming to an end. The anguished voice of the oracle
cried out, “Great Pan is dead.”
The Alexandrian intellectuals were fighting for a lost
cause. They realized this, and by this very realization they
 Tue MysticaL TRADITION 133

were turned from the enjoyments of physical life and took

refuge in the mystical tradition. Neoplatonism came into
existence through the mingling of Plato’s idealistic philosophy
and the mystical speculations of Asia. The rite of primitive
Christianity with its emphasis upon sin, death, and suffering,
and its doctrine of salvation by grace alone, set the mind in
a frustration that was to dominate the world for more than a
thousand years.
It remained for Francis Bacon to offer a workable solution
for the reconciliation of philosophy and mysticism. By setting
up faith and reason in their proper relationship to each other
he cleared the way for a balanced pattern of living. Con-
sciousness can extend beyond the limits of the reason to dis-
cover as fact that which the intellect cannot grasp as thought.
The mystical experience is everywhere present in the life of
man and nature. Thought may rise from inspiration or it
may end with inspiration.
There is a mystical factor nearly always present in the
compound of greatness. This is especially true of the arts,
where technique fails unless apprenticed to creative genius.
The very origin of reason is a mystery, but we have trained
ourselves to ignore the origin of our impulses. Bacon referred
to the spiritual powers at the root of life as ‘fixed causes’, and
infers that they may be discovered by faith alone. The uni-
verse Was not created by intellect, but by a spirit behind
intellect. It is th’s spirit which the mystic seeks in meditation.
Neoplatonism taught an exalted kind of mysticism by
which the mind first perfected in reason, then sought to
explore the ‘Father Fountains’ from which the reason flowed.
These fountains were the gods; not persons, but beings; not
intellects, but spirits in spirit.
134 ParHways OF PHILOSOPHY

The danger of mysticism is that it may arise in a personal-

ity unequipped to maintain its force. This leads to a variety
of difficulties. The mystic may not be able to interpret in
thought or in words the experiences of his inner life. For
this reason the Neoplatonists insisted that the mystical vision
should not be cultivated until the intellect had been strength-
ened to meet the pressure of the God-power from within.
Mysticism is not a creed. It is an experience which may
occur to the followers of any faith. All religions are suscep-
tible of mystical interpretation, and each has produced a few
outstanding mystics. A theology has no spiritual force until
its doctrines have been enlightened by the power of God in
the heart of the believer.
Most outstanding mystics have been comparatively un-
learned in the religions, philosophies, and sciences dominant
in their time. If the mind be obsessed by the importance of
materially acquired knowledge, it lacks the profound humility
which lies at the source of mysticism. The power of the mys-
tical way of life lies in its very simplicity, its gentleness, and
the deeply reverent spirit which it produces. These pious
and humble impulses are not natural to schoolmen devoted
to a competition of ideas. And the passiveness which comes
with illumination is interpreted as weakness by those who
have not experienced its strength.
The mystical experience cannot be conveyed from one
person to another, nor can mysticism be learned from books,
yet something of its power can be discovered by a considera-
tion of the gentle lives of the mystics themselves. Let us,
therefore, contemplate as a mystery, a ritual in the spirit, the
life and work of Jakob Boehme of ancient Gorlitz, the great-
est mystic since Jesus Christ.
 Tue Mysticat TRADITION 135

The Flash of Divine Lightning

In the opening years of the 17th century the small Prussian

city of Gorlitz was a struggling community with narrow cob-
blestone streets and tall, gaunt houses that leaned wearily
against each other. Storks built their nests among the chim-
ney pots, and hogs gathered in the principal square to select
their menu from the local garbage. Over this municipality
ruled the rotund burgomaster with the golden chain of his
office. He regarded himself equal in importance to the lord
elector, and preferred to be addressed as Worshipful and
Truly Sapient.
The city council (which refered to itself as The Noble
Right Worshipful Respectable Highly and Much Celebrated
and Very Gracious Gentlemen of the Senatorial Administra
tion) served with the burgomaster. This exalted body of
stolid burghers was made up of local merchants and artisans
with long brown coats and square-toed shoes.
The municipal government was under the thumb of
Gregorius Richter, who enjoyed the title Pastor Primarius of
Gorlitz. So uncertain was this reverent gentleman’s tem-
per and disposition, and so fervent his piety, that the eternal
salvation of the entire community was constantly threatened.
The local Lutheran clergy included several other reverent
masters, one of whom was Alias Dietrich. He was a God-
fearing man, but his greater terror was reserved for Parson
Richter.
Also worthy of mention is Dr. Tobias Koeber, a most
conscientious physician, who bestowed the fullness of his art
upon all of the sick regardless of their financial estate. When
things got out of hand Dr. Koeber would send to Zittau and
136 Patuways orf PHILOSOPHY

call in Dr. Melchior Berndt for consultation. What these two

men could not accomplish was left in the hands of God.
It was in this smug provincial orthodox Lutheran commu-
nity, burdened with all the intolerance that the times were
heir to, that the flash of divine lightning struck. It would
not seem that a less propitious environment could have been
selected. Here Jakob Boehme, the Teutonic theosopher,
lived and worked, suffered and died. This was the mortal
frame of his immortal vision. Loved and admired, feared
an despised, a humble cobbler walked with God in the little
town of Gorlitz.
Jakob Boehme was born in the market town of Alt-Seiden-
berg in Upper Lusatia about nine miles from Gorlitz, in the
year 1575. His father’s name was Jakob and his mother’s
name was Ursula. Both were peasants of impoverished cir-
cumstances, but a great point has been made of their being
good Christian folk, legally married. Little Jakob was
brought up in the strict Lutheran faith, and his parents taught
him enough of reading and writing so that he could study
the Scriptures. It is said that he had some elementary school-
ing, but the details are not recorded. Education played very
little part in the community life except with regard to the
clergy.
As soon as he reached sufficient size he was assigned to
the task of herding cattle. He would take the herds out into
the green fields and hills and sit quietly with them all through
the long days. Sometimes other lads from the village accom-
panied him, but he liked to wander off and commune with
himself. One day a curious circumstance occurred. It was
about noon and he had climbed a hill which was called Land’s
Crown. Suddenly he spied a doorway into the earth. The
aperture was lined with large red stones overgrown with
 Tue Mysticat TRADITION 137

bushes. Entering the cave he saw a large wooden platter

filled to overflowing with golden coins. Fearing that this
money belonged to some demon or evil spirit trying to
tempt him into sin, he hastened from the place without touch-
ing the money. Later a general search was made for the
cavern, but it could not be found. Boehme told one of his
friends that years afterward a foreign treasure hunter dis-
covered the gold, but the money had been cursed and the
foreigner met a terrible death.
It has been suggested that Boehme’s experience with the
platter of gold was his first adventure into the mystery of
the astral light. Perhaps it was a prophetic symbol of his
life’s work. He was to search the depth of the Holy Scrip-
tures for the lost treasure of the Christian spirit.
Jakob’s father, observing that his son was a thoughtful
and serious-minded boy, did everything possible to develop
and unfold his mind. In addition to a little schooling there
were daily prayers at the table, regular church attendance,
and weekly discussions of the Bible. When he was about
fourteen it was necessary for the family to make some deci-
sion about his future. Jakob, though not sickly, did not have
a robust constitution. His body was short and heavy, his
forehead rather low,. his face full, and his nose slightly
crooked. It was his eyes that gave promise of the future;
they were pale gray, deep-set, and calm as placid pools.
Obviously the boy had not the strength of physique to be
a successful farmer, so he was apprenticed to be a shoemaker.
Alt-Seidenberg specialized in the making of shoes, and the
cobblers had class preference over the farmers. This fortunate
apprenticeship was a step upward on the ladder of society.
Jakob served his master well, learned his trade quickly and
thoroughly. It was simple but sufficient work, and the young
138 Patuways OF PHILOSOPHY

man could think of many strange and distant things while

sitting at his bench pegging boots.
One afternoon he was alone in the little shop when a
stranger, poorly dressed but otherwise respectable, came in to
buy a pair of shoes. The stranger selected footgear to his
liking, and asked the price. But the apprentice was afraid to
fix a value without the permission of his master. The pur-
chaser insisted, however, and at last Jakob named a sum
which he felt certain was more than sufficient. His purpose
was to delay the sale, but the stranger paid the money im-
mediately, and taking the shoes left the shop.
After walking a few steps the unknown man stopped
short, and turning about called out in a deep and serious
voice, “Jakob, come out hither to me.” The boy, startled
that his name should be known to the stranger, went out to
the street. The man looked long into Jakob’s face, and then
taking him by the right hand said solemnly, “Jakob, thou
art little, but thou shalt become great, and a man so very
different from the common cast that thou shalt be the wonder
of the world. Be therefore a good lad; fear God, and rever-
ence his word. Let it especially be thy delight to read the
Holy Scriptures wherein thou art furnished with comfort and
instruction, for thou shalt be obliged to suffer a great deal of
affliction, poverty, and persecution also. Nevertheless, be
thou of good comfort, and firmly persevere, for God loveth
thee, and he is gracious unto thee.”
This was the second of the strange happenings that were
to influence the destiny of Jakob Boehme. The identity of
the mysterious stranger has never been discovered. Likely
enough he was one of those wandering mystics, adepts in
esoteric lore, of which there were many in Europe. Several
old writers mention them—cabalists, magicians, and alchem-
 Tue MysticaL TRADITION 139

ists, who appeared seemingly from nowhere and vanished

again after imparting some choice fragments of wisdom.
Boehme was twenty-five when the third extraordinary
experience occurred in his life. One day in his house he
chanced to look up toward a pewter dish on a wall rack.
The sunlight struck the dish and its dazzling reflection af-
fected his eyes in a remarkable way. In that instant he
beheld the mystery of the world. He attempted to stop the
vision, but the more he tried the clearer his sight became.
He went out and walked along the street seeking to escape
the things he saw. For seven days and nights he struggled
against the mysterious force that moved within him, but it
was useless. The lightning flash had struck, the eyes of the
seer were opened, and he was moved by a power far greater
than himself.
Having finished his apprenticeship Boehme settled in
Gorlitz as a master shoemaker, and was appointed his proper
seat in the local church. Here he partook regularly of the
Lord’s Supper, and affirmed his obedience to the covenants
of the Church. He took to wife Katharina, the beloved
daughter of Hans Kuntzschmann, the local butcher. Four
sons graced this union, of whom three survived their father.
For thirty years, until his death, Boehme lived happily with
his wife and family, and there is no report that any discord
existed among them.
Boehme plied his trade industriously and successfully for
ten years, at the end of which time he purchased a good
house in the Neisee-Vorstadt. Soon afterward he gave up his
profession, probably because his health was impaired by the
cramped position in which shoemakers did their work. He
then began the manufacture of woolen gloves, and made an
annual trip to Prague to sell them at the local fair.
140 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

It is difficult to assign to Boehme his proper place in the

world of mystical philosophy. The title ‘theosophist’ has been
applied to him to distinguish his method from that usual to
seers. He did not converse with the spirits of the departed,
and he beheld no blessed vision of the gods. Unlike Sweden-
borg, he did not fraternize with the angels, and no spiritualis-
tic or psychic phenomena was present. He practiced no divi-
nation, nor did he prepare himself by the aid of esoteric rituals
or self-discipline. Unlike most mystics, he was not seeking
personal contentment, and he did not retire from the world
to solitary communion with God. His own humility was
the magic key that opened for him the kingdom of the
spirit.
In one of his writings Boehme refers to Moses and the
prophets of old. He explained that these men spoke not
their own words nor the words of their minds. When they
delivered their instructions they first said, “So sayeth the
Lord.” Of himself Boehme would say, “Man speaks not ot
the mysteries of the spirit; rather it is God, who alone knows
all things, that speaks through the lips of man.”
Boehme’s mystical seership took the form of an unfold-
ment of God through nature before his eyes. He beheld, as
one present, the working of the law. First was the Ungrund,
the abyss, the nothing and all, time and eternity. Here
dwelt the Eternal One, solitary but never alone. From the
Ungrund came forth the powers, the seven eternal qualities
that forever change and yet forever are the same. First came
desire, and from desire motion, and from motion anguish,
the great disquietude. Here dwells the eternal hunger which
calls forth the flash of lightning, the spirit of God. This
lightning illumines and sustains the love-fire from which
comes forth sound, which is the voice of the silence. These
 Tue Mysticat TRADITION 141

are contained as in a cup by the body of God, which is called

nature, or the essential wisdom.
Is it to be wondered that only a few have been able to
understand the obscure writings of the German theosopher?
His words are strange, for he gathered them from a variety
of sources but used them in a manner all his own. He knew
that the visions which he recorded could be understood by
only those who shared the vision. To the profane the strange
sayings would be meaningless, but God through him had
revealed them, and God in another man could understand
them.
Although Boehme began his mystical examination into
the secrets of nature about the year 1600, he made no effort
to record his experiences until ten years later. Then fearing
that his memory might fail him in some of the details, he
resolved to preserve his findings in a private diary. With con-
siderable difficulty because of his lack of schooling, he wrote
out the principles of his philosophy. Some friends assisted in
the selecting of terms, but in many cases their help, though
well-intended, confused the issues.
Early biographers agree that Boehme wrote without the
aid of any reference books except the Holy Bible. It is likely
that some of the more learned of his acquaintances were the
sources of his alchemical, cabalistic, and hermetic terms and
symbols. His own humility of mind caused him to accept
eagerly all suggestions, and he was in desperate need of some
kind of terminology. It was probably his selection of words
rather than the substance of his ideas that resulted in his con-
flict with the Lutheran Church.
In the year 1612 Boehme completed his first book, which
he called Morning Redness at Sunrise. Dr. Balthazar Walter
suggested the name Aurora as a proper word to cover
142 PaTHWAYsS OF PHILOSOPHY

Boehme’s meaning, and the book was later issued as Aurora.

For some time the author kept the manuscript to himself,
permitting only a few of his friends to glimpse its contents.
The writing came to the attention of an enthusiastic devotee
by the name of Karl von Ender. After much persuasion he
succeeded in borrowing the original that he might peruse it
at greater leisure. The moment he got it home he made a
complete copy, bringing in several professional scriveners to
hasten the work. He in turn showed his new treasure to
those in sympathy with Boehme’s growing reputation as a
mystic. Finally the writing came to the attention of Parson
Richter, and trouble resulted.
The word Richter in German means a judge, and the
Pastor Primarius appointed himself a tribunal of one to defend
the city of Gorlitz from the dangerous heresy of its principal
shoemaker. He denounced Boehme from the pulpit with
language more fitted to the tap-room than the house of God.
But the stolid citizens were so accustomed to the preacher’s
pious rages that the sermon failed to stir them appropriately.
Richter, not to be discouraged by public apathy, included a
vicious attack upon Boehme in each of his Sunday sermons
thereafter. Throughout his campaign of attack and denuncia-
tion Boehme attended church regularly and listened quietly
and humbly to the ravings of the clergyman. At no time
did he utter a complaint or protest.
At last the parson’s fanatical fury exhausted the patience
of the entire community, and that Right Worshipful and
Celebrated group which made up the city council held a
special session with the ‘truly sapient’ burgomaster to end the
squabbling. The local government did not dare to ignore
the complaint of the representative of the local Lutheran
clergy. On the other hand they had no particular desire to
 Tue Mysticat TRADITION 143

persecute their fellow citizen. They called Bochme before

them, confiscated his manuscript, and asked him in the cause
of common peace to discontinue his mystical writings. They
further recommended that he content himself with his highly
respected trade of master shoemaker and leave the mysteries
of God to Parson Richter.
For seven years thereafter Boehme bowed to the will of
the city council and discontinued writing. During this time
Richter’s watchful eye was upon him, but the clergyman
could find nothing in the quiet life of the shoemaker upon
which he could bring censure. Richter was uneasy, how-
ever, for he could see that the better minds of the community
were more and more sympathetic to Boehme’s visions. A
full-sized heresy was in the making, and it was up to the
clergy to destroy its roots.
It was not until 1619 that Boehme resumed his writing.
He was inspired by the entreaties of his friends and the sin-
cere conviction that his mystical doctrines should be preserved
for posterity. Having decided on this course of action he
devoted most of his time to his books, indifferent of the
attacks made upon his person and doctrines by the clergy.
In 1623 Abraham von Frankenberg arranged for the publica-
tion of several of Boehme’s shorter writings under the title
The Way to Christ. It was the only book that appeared in
print during the lifetime of the author. Parson Richter’s rage
reached apoplectic proportions. An ignorant shoemaker had
dared to write a religious book without the approval of the
clergy.
Richter prepared a pasquinade against Boehme. This was
a form of broadside, a short writing of condemnation and
ridicule which he posted like a handbill in various public
places. Richter’s use of profanity from the pulpit was a
144 PaTHWAyYs OF PHILOSOPHY

scandal to his church, and it was feared that the clergy might
bring pressure by appealing to the lord elector of Saxony.
Boehme made a personal appeal to Richter. The clergy-
man was seated in his study and was so infuriated by the
mere presence of the mystic that he threw one of his boots
at him. Boehme quietly picked it up and placed it with the
other beside the clergyman’s chair. He humbly requested
that Richter specify his accusations and tell in what way he
had by word or action departed from the Christian way of
life. Richter was not able to present one particular com-
plaint; he merely resorted to blind rage.
Boehme presented a simple petition to the city council
asking protection against Richter’s unsupported accusations.
The council reminded Boehme of the power of the clergy
and the probability of its entire machinery being turned
against him if Richter continued. They advised him to leave
the community for his own good, as it was still possible that
he might be tried for heresy and be burned at the stake. His
own influence was not great enough to protect him, and the
government would be likely to appease the clergy. It was
good advice in those days and given in all kindness, and
Boehme decided to comply lest the whole community suffer.
In May 1624 Boehme went to Dresden where he was re-
ceived into the home of a prominent physician, Dr. Benjamin
Hinkelman. While there he was requested by the emperor
to take part in a discussion with several learned theologians
and mathematicians relating to his mystical doctrine. It was
a veiled effort to investigate the nature of the difficulties at
Gorlitz. At this session the simple, unlearned shoemaker
completely dumfounded the theologians with his insight into
the mysteries of faith. Their conclusion was that they could
pass no judgment without a long period of time in which to
 Tue MysticaL TRADITION 145

study the opinions that the shoemaker so admirably and yet

so humbly advanced and maintained. One of the group, Dr.
Gerhard, said that he would not take the whole world as a
bribe to condemn such a man, and another savant, Dr. Meiss-
ner, stated that he was of the same mind. Thus it is evident
that the whole clergy was in no way of the temper of Parson
Richter. The emperor was deeply impressed, and Boehme
was free of any danger that the state would move against
him.
Parson Richter died in August, 1624, a frustrated old man
full of venom. With his pertinacious foe out of the way
Boehme could look forward to peace and security, but his
own life was strangely linked with that of his enemy. He
was stricken with a fever, and was brought back to Gorlitz
to die. With his permission the Reverend Elias Theodorus
was summoned, and he grudgingly consented to question
Boehme in theology to the end of administering the Lord’s
Supper. Boehme died on Sunday, the 17th of November,
1624, just before the time of the opening of the city gates.
At two o’clock in the morning he asked the hour, and when
told replied, “In three hours will be my time.” He asked his
son Tobias if he could hear the beautiful music that filled
the room, but the young man shook his head. A little later
Boehme talked with his wife, instructing her in the disposi-
tion of his manuscripts and belongings. He also told her that
she would not long survive him, which proved to be true.
Having ordered all of his earthly affairs and taken leave of
his sons, he asked the eldest to turn him on the bed. His last
words were, “Now I shall enter the paradise.”
After Boehme’s death a serious crisis arose, due to the
pressure of the clergy. His body was refused decent Christian
burial, and it was necessary for the widow to appeal twice to
146 PatHways OF PHILOSOPHY

the city council for the disposal of the remains. The timely
arrival of the Catholic Count Hannival von Drohna saved
the situation. He ordered that the body be buried with all
solemnity in the presence of two members of the city council,
that there be a procession, that the clergy be represented, and
that there be the usual sermon in the local church. As an
excuse for not attending, the principal parson took a large
dose of laxative, but there is no evidence that it purged him
of his intolerance.
When the time came for the sermon the minister prefaced
his remarks with an elaborate defense of his own position.
He assured the congregation that he was preaching under
pressure and had no pleasure in the task. He also stated ex-
plicitly that he had refused the usual fee lest he be suspected
of having preached for gain. Later, however, he billed the
widow. The sermon consisted of a halfhearted Christian
hope that Boehme might escape the full measure of perdition
because of the infinite forgiveness of God which might ex-
tend even to heretics. A curious symbolic cross supplied by
friends in distant places was raised over the grave. This,
however, was later destroyed by vandalism, and it is the sober
judgment of the ages that the Church made no great effort
to preserve the monument.
Thus ended the physical life of Jakob Boehme, citizen of
Gorlitz and master shoemaker. He lived and died plagued
by the intemperance of little minds. He is a proof that ideas
are imperishable, and extending beyond their narrow origin
can exercise a profound effect in far times and distant places.
It is practically impossible to digest the writings of Boehme
in anything resembling his own words, yet the mystical
philosophy which he taught is in substance quite simple. As
he himself said: “My writings are for only those who are will-
 Tue MysticaL TRADITION 147

ing to receive the truth in a simple and childlike state of

mind, for it is they who are to possess the kingdom of God.
I have written for only those that seek; to the cunning and
the worldly-wise I have nothing to say.”
According to Sigmund Freud, religion is a kind of neu-
rosis, an escape from truth along pleasant avenues of self-
delusion. The human being, afraid to face the reality of his
own unimportance and impermanence, prefers a fairy tale to
the testimony of his reason and the senses. Freud is inclined
to believe that the whole world would be better off if men
became realists, and he regards realism as an indication of
intellectual maturity.
Is it possible that Freud has confused religion and theol-
ogy? As regards theology, most of his points are well-taken,
but as to religion, man’s timeless search for God and good,
perhaps the father of modern psychology is not completely
informed. Certainly the mystical experience as it came to
Jakob Boehme is not an ordinary consequence of neurosis or
frustration. Nor can we regard as illusions those inner hap-
penings which lift man from the commonplace to the estate
of philosopher by the strength of inner consciousness alone.
The Boehmenists, as the followers of Boehme were called
in England and Holland, exercised considerable influence
over the religious thought of their time. Most of them
merged into the Quaker and the Friends movements. The
Philadelphian Society of the early 18th century included
several important mystics who had been nourished upon the
teachings of Boehme. The Pietists who came to America in
the closing years of the 17th century brought many of
Boehme’s writings with them, and were much given to his
kind of metaphysical thought.
148 Paruways or PHILOSOPHY

After Boechme’s death one of the leading exponents of his

system was Johann Georg Gichtel, a man possessing consider-
able insight and mystical powers. In 1682 he republished
the master’s writings, adding to the text many curious symbol-
ical engravings now highly valued. Gichtel suffered much
persecution and was several times imprisoned for his part in
spreading Boehmenism. He formed a society called the
Brethern of the Angels, which was devoted to good work and
the practice of Christian charity. It was his hope that the
brothers of his order would sometime replace the priesthood,
and free human society from the burden of the clergy.
There is much in the symbolism of Boehme that is remi-
niscent of the teachings of the Gnostics. Gnosticism arose in
both Syria and Egypt about the middle of the Ist century.
It taught a system of emanations as a solution to the problem
of spirit and matter. Pure spirit and pure matter cannot
mingle unless they are brought together in some common
medium. Spirit emanates from itself an order of descending
qualities, and matter emanates a corresponding series of ascend-
ing qualities. These finally unite in a middle distance, thus
binding the extremes into world harmony. A number of
Gichtel’s drawings illustrate the doctrine of emanation as the
only means of reconciling the mystery of eternity and time.
Although Boehme’s writings never depart from the word
of the Scriptures, his interpretation shows little theological
influence. He finds a mystical depth in every verse of the
Scriptures. Thus the Bible cannot be read; it must be experi-
enced. Unless the light of God illumines the words there is
only darkness. This darkness is a perplexity of the reason,
the root of doubts, and the source of endless controversy.
Boehme was one of the first to point out that religion is not
an unreasonable veneration of history. Man finds consclation
 Tue Mysticat Trapit1ion 149

not from the account of deeds performed in the distant past,

but from the eternal verities for which these historical in-
cidents are merely symbols. Devotion to God is not to be
attained by a defense of the written letter of his law, but by
a personal participation in that law by mystical communion.

The Mysterium Magnum

The beginning of Boehme’s philosophy is the mystery of

the abyss, the nothing and the all, the absolute nature of God.
Deity is neither person nor thing, neither beginning nor end,
but the mystertum magnum. The nature of the abyss is
unknown and unknowable save by itself, and all efforts to
describe its qualities can be only allegories and symbols.
Concealed within the abyss, as time is concealed within
eternity, is the uncreated will which Boehme calls the byss—
that which ever desires to be something. These two, byss and
abyss, are together the hidden cause. It is the byss, or will
of the Supreme One, that fashions the mirror of the world
in which it may perceive by reflection all of the wonders that
lie latent in the abyss. Boehme did not believe with the
theologians that the universe was fashioned from nothing;
rather, it was the thing formed from the no-thing, the form-
less, by the power of the will.
The abyss was a great richness or fullness, like a dark earth
full of seed from which all things can grow. Within the
abyss is an infinite nutrition—the infinite mother that can
nourish the seeds of life which are the will of the father.
Creation is therefore a motion toward manifestation of things
hidden in the will of God.
From the abyss shines forth the three principles. The
first two abide as one and are named fire and light, or wrath
150 PatHways OF PHILOSOPHY

and mercy. Wrath is law, and mercy is love, and from the
union of these two is born nature, the child of law and love.
Fire is the dark principle in God. This is a great mystery,
for the dark fire if left closed is good, but if opened becomes
evil. Let us try to understand what Boehme means by his
strange terms. All nature is subject to the law of God; the
law is invisible but everywhere present, and by its own nature
it requires obedience from all its creations. If these creatures
depart from the law they open the door of its wrath and the
will of God becomes an instrument of punishment.
One of the old Greek legislators, in describing the man-
made laws governing nations, explained that those who obey
the statutes are unaware of their existence, but those who
disobey immediately feel their weight. This is what Boehme
is trying to tell us. All suffering, sin, and death, result from
disobedience by which the fire of God is revealed as wrath
or punishment.
God does not will that the door of wrath be opened, but
he permits it to be opened in order that his creatures may be
self-knowing. Man cannot experience the love of God with-
out knowing of the anguish. In other words, no one can be
good without knowledge of the existence of evil. The door
of wrath is opened by the self-will of man, which is in con-
flict with the divine will. Yet self-will will be necessary;
otherwise the power of the divine will could never be known
in the creature. Self-will is the dark principle natural to God,
but unnatural to man. It is by self-will that Deity formed
the world, and in Deity this will is law, but when man at-
tempts the power of God by opposing his self-will to the
self-will of the Infinite, law becomes wrath in his heart
and false imagination is born.
 Tue MysticaL TRraprrion 15]

Creation is an unfolding of the seven eternal qualities

from within outwardly, like the opening of the petals of a
flower. An order of spheres and worlds is born out of each
other and are given their places in space. Each of these do-
minions is fertile with life and generates creatures in an in-
finite diversity. Yet in this diversity there is no conflict, no
discord, and all abide together ‘in temperature.’ This tem-
perature is the harmony of the divine will which moves all
things by the law of the dark principle.
Boehme especially mentioned an angelic world in which
are placed three hierarchs—Michael, Lucifer, and Uriel. In
the world of the angels Michael represents God the Father,
Lucifer, God the Son, and Uriel, God the Holy Spirit.

The Fall of Lucifer

Boehme’s explanation of the fall of Lucifer and the rebel-

lion of the angels is one of the most daring and remarkable
of his doctrines. Here it is especially necessary to read be-
tween the lines and sense a mystery in the spirit. Lucifer
turned his face toward the throne of God and beheld not
grandeur but humility. He saw not a great king ruling over
all creations, but an’infinite gentleness, quiet, silent, and alone.
This prince of the angels had not the mysticism in his own
heart to examine the infinite love and patience of the Creator.
So he opened the door of wrath, that he might know the
power of the Infinite. The harmony of the worlds had never
known the wrath of God until Lucifer was moved by the lust
for knowledge. But as self-will entered into him the very
throne of the Father changed before his eyes. The gentleness
vanished, the humility was gone, and the patience had come
to an end. The light of God was revealed as a consuming
152 Patuways oF PHILosopHy

fire. Suddenly Lucifer beheld the Supreme in all the magnifi-

cence of the avenger. This was not because God had changed,
but because Lucifer had changed. The gentleness, humility,
and patience were in reality still there, but the rebel angel
could no longer see them; he had obscured the will of God
in himself and self-will came in its place. It was thus that
the door of wrath was opened and the material centrum was
set up in the abyss.
Here Boehme reveals the essential doctrine of mysticism
by contrasting consciousness and intellect. The spiritual eye
which perceives the humility of God is consciousness, but the
mental power which is aware only of the splendor of God
as revealed through the creation is the intellect.
Lucifer was resolved to create a kingdom more glorious
than that of the Father. This kingdom should be filled
with knowledge, wealth, power, and ambition. He would
become a conqueror of space, and the sciences should be the
instruments of his achievement. He would prove the power
of might over right, and his motto was “I can do anything
that I will to do.” His body became the physical world and
his children became mankind resolved to, conquer all things
by will and intellect. This is the true meaning of the building
of the Tower of Babel. In the end was confusion and chaos,
which Boehme calls the turba, the self-will manifested as
many self-wills set up against each other. Each man defended
his own errors and fought for his opinions. The result was
a discord of races, nations, sciences, philosophies, and_the-
ologies. In all of them men were fighting not for truth but
for opinion. Thus vanished the harmony of the angels.
They knew but one will and they dwelt in peace. Men have
many wills, and they dwell in confusion.
 Tue MysticaL Traprrion 153

In the mysticism of Bochme, Adam was not regarded as

a man but as a kind of spiritual creation which dwelt in the
love and light of divine humility. Within Adam like a seed
was his own external nature, his physical body or coat of
skins. One old Bible refers to Adam’s body as ‘a pair of
breeches.’ This indicates to some degree how far the trans-
lators departed from the mystical implications of the text.
The spiritual Adam was also androgynous (both male and
female) and the mystery of Eve was still locked within him.
The fall of Lucifer was repeated in Adam, with one dif-
ference. Lucifer set up his will in direct opposition to God
with full knowledge of the consequences, but Adam was with-
out malice, seeking only for experience. Within Adam,
Michael the power of God, and Lucifer the power of self-will,
dwell in eternal conflict. When Adam permitted his imagina-
tion to be directed toward material things a sleep descended
upon his spirit. As Boehme says, “He fell asleep to the
angelical world, and awakened to the external world.” Truth
is unity; error is diversity. When Adam became aware of
diversity he knew his own duality, and Eve came into being
and stood before him out of himself.
Adam and Eve, the archetypes of all species, first dwelt
together in the Garden of Eden, which is the sphere of the
ethers. Later, in the search for self-knowing, they descended
into the deepest parts of matter. This was the involution,
and the struggle of mankind to escape from the material
principle is the true evolution.

The Mystical Union with Christ

Christ is the second Adam. In him is accomplished the

conquest of wrath. The initiate Jesus centered his imagina-
154 PatHways oF PHILOSOPHY

tion entirely upon the humility of the Father. By this mys-

tery he vanquished the self-will and became greater than
death. Jesus looked upon the wrath of the Father, that is,
the law, and perceived in it the secret of the love principle.
In that instant he stood before the gentleness of God, which
is eternal within and behind the wrath.
The true Christ is the love of God which is born in the
heart of man as Jesus was born in a stable surrounded by
animals—symbols of the self-will. Although Boehme insisted
on the historical fact of Christ, he also pointed out the signif-
icance of the Messiah as the mystical experience. The his-
torical Christ could not insure the salvation of man; only
the Christ within could be the hope of glory. The seed of
Christ is in every human heart. If man nourishes this seed
it will grow into a great tree and its fruits will be peace and
everlasting life. Christ comes for the healing of the sickness
of Lucifer and the redemption of the first Adam who fell
into the illusion.
The way of mystical union is through the heart of man to
the heart of Christ. In this heart is the eye which may look
upon the gentleness of the Father. The opening of this eye is
the mystical experience of faith. When this eye is opened the
empire of self-will, ruled over by the fallen angel, vanishes.
There is no longer confusion or doubt about things human
and divine. There is simple faith and complete submission to
the dark principle which is the law of the Father. The eye
of the mystic can look upon the silence of the throne and re-
joice in the meekness which Lucifer despised.
Such in substance is the vision of Jakob Boehme, and all
his philosophy extends from this central theme. A child
becomes a man by the increase of self-will, but the man be-
comes a child again by the miracle of faith. Strength gives
 Tue MysticaL TRADITION 155

place to beauty, the greater strength. Courage gives place to

obedience, which requires the greater courage. Aspiration
ends in peace, the end which all ambitions vainly seek. The
world is dissolved in God, who is the greater world.
The effect of Boehme’s writings extended in many direc-
tions. The English mystic, William Law, noted that Sir Isaac
Newton was a diligent student of Boehme’s writings, and
among Newton’s papers were found copious extracts carefully
copied in his own handwriting. The extracts are especially
numerous in a tract in which Sir Isaac appeals to all who
doubt or disbelieve the truths of the Gospel. Newton’s scien-
tific standing makes these extracts all the more remarkable.
According to Dr. Law the English King, Charles I, was
an earnest reader and admirer of Boehme, and sent a well-
qualified person from England to Gorlitz to acquire the
German language and to collect every anecdote he could meet
with that was relative to this great mystic.
An effort has been made to identify Jakob Boehme with
the Rosicrucians, a sect which was developed in the opening
quarter of the 17th century. But careful investigation does
not sustain this opinion. Although Boehme was later identi-
fied with the Rosicrucians principally because of his symbols
and diagrams, there is no proof that he was actually connected
with the society at any time. He was self-taught, and it is
impossible to explain away his revelations by attributing them
to outside influences.
It may be useful to compare Boehme briefly with two
other mystics who have a particular claim for consideration.
It should be remembered that while the structure of a mys-
tical revelation is strongly influenced by external circum-
stances, the spiritual content is ever the same.
156 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

Baron Emanuel Swedenborg

Baron Emanuel Swedenborg (1688-1772) was a man of

profound erudition and outstanding scientific attainments.
He wrote on a variety of subjects and attained prominence
in mathematics, invention, astronomy, chemistry, anatomy,
and physiology. One of his most practical contributions was
a cure for smoky chimneys. In his spare time he designed
the plans for a flying machine.
Swedenborg enjoyed the respect, admiration, and frater-
nity of prominent thinkers, statesmen, and scientists. He was
ennobled by Queen Ulrika Eleanora in 1719, and was offered
chairs in prominent universities. He was fifty-seven when
the mystical experience occurred to him which was to com-
pletely change the course of his life. The details are not
preserved, but it appears that his illumination resulted espe-
cially from his mathematical speculations.
For some years prior to his illumination Swedenborg had
received visions and heard the voices of invisible beings. He
had resolved to attempt the discovery of God by scientific
means, and had made elaborate studies of anatomy and
physiology in an effort to isolate the spiritual energy at the
source of human life. He knew of the works of Pythagoras,
Paracelsus, and Boehme, and there are indications that he had
some acquaintance with the mystical philosophies of the Far
East. All together he was a remarkable man.
According to Swedenborg’s own account God appeared
to him in a revelation saying, “I have chosen thee to unfold
the spiritual sense of the Holy Scripture. I will myself
dictate to you what thou shalt write.” Swedenborg was a
voluminous scribe, and in the last twenty-seven years of his
 Tue MysticaL TRADITION 157

life authored nearly forty books. He traveled extensively, and

to the end of his life remained interested in a variety of sub-
jects, although his mystical writings were his principal con-
cern.
In Swedenborg’s teachings the substance of God is infinite
love, and his manifestation is infinite wisdom. As the phys-
ical sun lights the material world, so a spiritual sun is the
source of love and intelligence. In fact, the material sun re-
ceives its appearance of life from the spiritual orb behind it.
Human consciousness seeking truth rises through an order
of spheres or conditions of understanding. Through the
virtue of mystical love man attunes himself with ever higher
aspects of the divine nature.
In Swedenborg’s writings, thought spiritualized by under-
standing so that it becomes wisdom is far more important
than in the teachings of Boehme. This is only natural when
we realize that Swedenborg was a trained thinker. He was
able to see the mystery of love in the sciences, and to regard
knowledge as being equal to faith as a means of salvation.
In his personal life Swedenborg was by nature kind and
generous. He lived modestly, and his food consisted prin-
cipally of bread, milk, and coffee. It was his habit to remain
in a state of trance for several days at a time, and occasionally
he would have terrifying ordeals with demons.
One of the central ideas of Swedenborg’s system of mys-
tical philosophy was his doctrine of correspondences. Each
visible thing has an appropriate spiritual reality associated
with it. This agrees with the teachings of Paracelsus and
Bochme regarding signatures. Forms are symbols of prin-
ciples, and the receptacles of divine energy.
The clairvoyance of Swedenborg took the form of journeys
into the world of spirit, and conversations with the creatures
158 PatrHways OF PHILOSOPHY

who dwelt there. He approached his subject as scientifically

as the nature of the factors would permit. He allowed no
mystical exaltation to interfere with his judgment. In defend-
ing his method he wrote: “I have proceeded by observation
and induction as strict as that of any man of science among
you. Only it has been given me to enjoy and experience
reaching into two worlds—that of spirit as well as that of
matter.” He regarded his method as more certain than that
of other mystics because he depended not upon the experiences
of consciousness alone, but upon the testimony of extrasensory
perception.
In his writing Swedenborg clearly revealed his scientific
training. He proceeds as a practiced observer, without emo-
tion and with great attention to detail. He notes that in the
language of the angels only vowels are used because these are
the spiritual parts of words. Yet when they addressed him
these beings spoke to his inner understanding in the language
of mortals. If, however, they turned to address each other
they used a method of communication so subtle that the seer
heard no sound.
The writings of Swedenborg include a description of the
creatures inhabiting the various planets. His remarks on this
subject can be estimated from the following quotation: “The
inhabitants of the moon are small, like children six or seven
years old; at the same time they have the strength of men
like ourselves. Their voice rolls like thunder, and the sound
proceeds from the belly because the moon is in quite a differ-
ent atmosphere from the other planets.”
The presentation of such material by a quiet, scholarly old
gentleman with a powdered wig neatly curled on the ends
was the cause of considerable consternation. Some opined
that the Baron had overtaxed his mind and was suffering
 Tue Mysticat TRADITION 159

from delusions, yet all acknowledged that he retained full

control of his reasoning faculties and his scientific method
never failed. Never before, however, had science been applied
to such a variety of abstract intangibles.
It was Swedenborg’s desire to establish a new church.
This church could include all others without interfering with
any of the existing creeds. Swedenborgianism has exercised
a considerable influence and has many followers in the
modern world. Samuel Coleridge, Robert and Elizabeth
Browning, and Thomas Carlyle imbibed inspiration from
him, and Helen Keller has found great comfort in the Swed-
enborgian faith.
Nineteenth-century mysticism mingled its stream with the
current of New England spiritualism. As a result a quantity
of psychical phenomena is present in the popular metaphysics
of today. Communication with the dead became an end in
itself, and the abstract philosophical side of mysticism received
little attention. It is a mistake to regard mysticism and
psychism as synonymous terms, but psychism is in some re-
spects a scientific approach to the mysteries of the invisible
world.

Andrew Jackson Davis, the Seer of Poughkeepsie

The transition from mysticism to psychism is clearly

shown in the writings of the American seer Andrew Jackson
Davis (1826-1910). Davis not only derived part of his teach-
ings from Swedenborg, but believed that he was in direct
communication with the spirit of the great Swedish mystic.
Davis had very little formal education, and began his literary
career when he was about sixteen. He attended some lectures
on hypnotism and animal magnetism, and discovered that he
160 PaTHways OF PHILOSOPHY

possessed the power of healing the sick. Soon afterwards he

began receiving spirit messages, and dictated several books
while in the state of trance. He was involved in psychic
phenomena before the official founding of modern spiritual-
ism, and identified himself with the movement about 1850.
In all, he was the author of about thirty books, of which the
best known is The Great Harmonia in six volumes.
It has been said that the inspiration behind the writings
of Davis was literary rather than truly mystical. Those who
have read his works, however, realize that mysticism played
an important part in the shaping of his viewpoint. He was
essentially a teacher, and his writings abound in practical ap-
plications, especially in the fields of morality and health.
Davis was known among his associates as the Seer of
Poughkeepsie. Like Boehme he was self-taught, but he never
penetrated deeply into the Mystertum Magnum as did the
German theosophist. He depended upon the older mystics
for the general conception of the invisible world, and con-
cerned himself primarily with the motions of spiritual force
in the physical life of man.
A number of mystical organizations rose to prominence
between 1840 and 1880. Their rise corresponded to the in-
creased interest that was centering on the development of the
physical sciences. A wave of materialism was sweeping across
the world, and the natural mysticism everywhere present in
human nature rose to oppose the opinions of Darwin and
Huxley. Unfortunately, the popular mysticism of the present
century lacks true devotional content. Would-be mystics are
dabbling in old doctrines as an intellectual pastime. For this
reason it is important that the teachings of the older mystics
such as Meister (Johannes) Eckhart, Jan van Ruysbroeck, and
Louis Claude de Saint-Martin be made available to the truth
 Tue MystIcaL TRADITION 161

seekers of the present day. Mysticism has a great and noble

tradition and has always been a constructive force in society.
It teaches tolerance, brotherhood, and the practice of good
works.
Prominent among Occidental mystics stands Jakob
Boehme, and no other philosopher more perfectly portrays
the virtues of the mystical life. In the years that lie ahead,
years burdened with the responsibility of building an endur-
ing cultural system, mysticism will have an important part
to play. More and more the world must be guided by the
mystic impulses which come through the heart of man.
 6
THE MESSIAH OF PURE REASON

IMMANUEL KANT

German Philosophy

Guy philosophy had its beginning with Gottfried

Wilhelm von Leibnitz (1646-1716). He was an idealist
deeply influenced by classical philosophy and the atomic
theory of Democritus, the laughing philosopher (late 5th and
early 4th century B. C.) Leibnitz was a philosophical cosmop-
olite; he was interested in everything that could add to the
substance of his understanding. He read the books of the
classical Greeks, the Alexandrian Neoplatonists, the Egyptian
hermetists, the Jewish cabalists, the early Christian patristics,
and the medieval scholastics.
By nature optimistic and idealistic, Baron von Leibnitz
saw good in all the systems and sensed the need of a common
denominator by which diverse opinions could be bound
together for purposes of utility. To this end he recommended
the establishment of a learned society where intellectuals could
gather and benefit by a mutual exchange of ideas. He also
suggested that it might be advisable to create a philosophical

162
 a
-

’
3

IMMANUEL Kant
 Tue Messtan oF Pure REASON 163

language composed of ideographic symbols in order that

thinkers might have a speech in common.
The principal contribution of Leibnitz, written in what
he called ‘odd moments’, was his doctrine of monads, which
he borrowed directly from the old Greeks. Matter reduced
to its ultimate form and most minute particles ceases to exist
as a physical substance, being resolved in a mass of nonma-
terial ideas or metaphysical units of power, which Leibnitz
called monads. The universe is composed of an infinite num-
ber of these monads, which are like seeds and capable of
eternal growth. God is the first and greatest of the monads.
The Neoplatonic speculations of Leibnitz intrigued the
mind of Immanuel Kant and transformed the little professor
of Konigsberg from a schoolmaster into a philosopher. But
before we enter into a discussion of Kant it is important to
make a brief survey of the workings of the German mind in
the world of abstract thinking.
Prior to the time of Kant the Teutonic states had developed
a curious neurosis as the result of a long series of military
reverses. This neurosis has influenced the entire school of
German intellectuals for the past three hundred years. As a
result two streams of ideology have run parallel in the
German mind. One school was composed of exact thinkers
leaning heavily upon mathematics as the basis of reason. The
other school verged toward psychological romanticism and
the deification of the German volk (folk), and the justifica-
tion of militarism as the proper purpose of life. The diver-
gence of these two schools is exemplified in the attack made
by Werner Sombart in 1915 upon Kant’s book on perpetual
peace. Sombart called the writing a wretched book and an
inglorious exception to Kant’s genius, on the ground that no
representative German had ever been guilty of uttering a
164 PaTHWAYs OF PHILOSOPHY

pacifist statement. While Professor Sombart may or may not

be a representative German, the antagonism between the two
schools is revealed in its usual form.
Nietzsche was a prominent exponent of the volk psychol-
ogy, yet both he and Kant were deeply influenced by Neo-
platonism. It was a matter of interpretation. It is very easy
for mysticism to lead toward romanticism, which is a meta-
physical escape from reality. When Kant attacked the con-
cept of a personal God he weakened the idealism of his time.
There was no longer any religious limitation upon human
behavior. The simple Christian virtues of gentleness, humility,
and faith had less meaning if the Christian way of life was an
illusion. Thus Kant, probably without the slightest realiza-
tion of what he was doing, prepared the way for Nietzsche’s
superman and all its consequences.

The Oracle of Konigsberg

A little man sat hunched up behind his desk in the Univer-

sity of Konigsberg. He wore a powdered periwig with the
curls precisely over each ear. His coat was plain and slightly
open at the neck to show a proper stock, but the coat buttons
were large and not exactly in the best of taste. With big
blue eyes that always held a look of wonder he gazed out
into an eager sea of faces. Carefully and methodically he
drew from his inside pocket a number of small slips of paper.
These he arranged in orderly rows on the desk before him.
Then reaching over he hesitated for a moment. Yes, this
morning he would use five books, no more, no less. These
he opened one by one to passages previously marked. The
books were then arranged in a neat pattern, and the little
man surveyed his accomplishments as though he doubted the
 Tue MesstAH oF Pure REASON 165

exactness of his method. The assembled students remained

in silent awe; the time had come for the oracle to speak.
The oracle was Herr Professor Doctor Immanuel Kant,
and his classroom was the shrine of universal learning. Never
before had so much mentality been wrapped up in so small
and neat a package. The messiah of pure reason to whom
all mysteries were open books always began his lecture at
the mathematical moment for which it was scheduled; never
a second early, never a second late.
The little man’s voice was appropriate to his size. It was
very feeble, high-pitched, and interrupted by frequent pauses
as though he lacked the strength to continue. Perfect silence
was necessary in order that his words might be heard. Nor
should we imagine that this was Kant in the feebleness of his
declining years; this was the great professor in his prime
when the intellectuals of Europe prostrated themselves before
his low, well-worn desk.
As the lecture proceeded the wonder grew. To read Kant
is to labor not only with the profundity of his ideas, but the
ponderosity of his style. His books groan with the burden
of his words, and only the most courageous explore the writ-
ings beyond the introductory pages. But Kant the lecturer
was an entirely different person. His sentences were short
and well-turned. There were numerous interesting anecdotes,
observations, and familiar illustrations. He never read his
lectures, but cast an occasional furtive glance at the tidv rows
of notes as though he disliked to be suspected of referring to
them. As the lecture proceeded the professor became more
and more emotionally involved. These talks were probably
the only emotional experiences in his well-regulated life.
His small voice became positively eloquent, and his listeners
were carried away by the magic of his thoughts.
166 PatHways OF PHILOSOPHY

At the exact moment when a lecture should end the dis-

course was finished. It was always neatly finished, the notes
carefully put away, and the five books returned to their proper
places. Then the little man with the big, wondering eyes be-
came entirely oblivious of the student body, and prepared for
the next part of his daily routine. His formula for teaching
was simple. Always address your remarks to the intermediate
level of your listeners. The geniuses will take care of them-
selves, and the dunces are' beyond human remedy.
The temperament of Immanuel Kant was a combination
of stolid Scotch ancestry on one side and stolid Prussian
ancestry on the other. He looked enough like Frederick the
Great to be his brother, and all the burden of his thought had
to be carried by a body scarcely five feet tall. Small men are
given to certainties and large projects. Kant was certain that
his philosophy was the proper end of all philosophy. There
could be nothing added to his revelation by the future. He
grew decidedly irritable if anyone suggested that posterity
might improve upon his method. For the largeness of his
project it need only be said that his task was to put the entire
universe in order. There were no lose ends in learning when
he finished tucking them into place. He was born into a
world heavily laden with opinion. After his advent human-
ity would be divided into only two groups; those supremely
ignorant and those who studied Kant. There was no egotism
in the little man; he simply knew that he was right. Whether
the Scottish or Prussian ancestry nourished this conviction we
cannot know.
Some have hinted that Kant was slightly deficient in the
region of his sentiments. Of course a man burdened with a
cosmic responsibility can be forgiven if he lives with his mind
pretty much on the subject. The Herr Professor had no ap-
 Tue MesstaH or Pure REASON 167

preciation of art as a source of emotional pleasure, but he

could circumscribe it with an all-embracing critique. A
sunset left him entirely unmoved, and for travel he had no
mind at all. Music was noise, and poetry nothing but jogging
prose that trotted along with little influence on the ultimate
destiny of human nature. Goethe and Schiller might think
they were philosophers, but men who dealt in verses could
not be sound thinkers. As for the female sex, Kant sort of
forgot them. His philosophy worked very well without the
feminine equation, so why bring in irrelevancies. He never
married; in fact it was unthinkable that so methodical a per-
son should allow matrimony to interfere with his daily sched-
ule. Yet he was a friendly man as long as friendship re-
mained dignified and emotionless. To worry about friends
interfered with his continuity of thought, and if one of his
acquaintances became ill he studiously avoided him. Death
was another annoying sentiment, and it was generally under-
stood that no mention of a deceased acquaintance should be
made in his presence. The good professor must have been
a very emotional man or it would not have been necessary to
maintain such a defensive armament.
Immanuel Kant was born at Konigsberg on the 22nd of
April, 1724. His father was a saddle maker, and both of his
parents were members of a strict sect of Christian mystics
which flourished in that part of Germany. Kant never ceased
to wonder at the effect of religion in the life of his home.
As he grew older he lost all sympathy with the creed of his
family, but retained a deep respect for the spiritual integrity
which it produced in the characters of his parents.
Influenced no doubt by his home environment, young
Immanuel was but ten when he began his schooling prepar-
atory to majoring in theology. Later his mind turned toward
168 Patuways OF PHILOSOPHY

mathematics, but he continued his religious studies and even

preached an occasional sermon. From childhood ill health
played an important part in his life. He was frail and ailing,
and further handicapped by a deformity of the right shoulder.
Periodically he would collapse from no particular ailment,
and often his life seemed destined to end prematurely. Then
there were long periods of recuperation which interfered with
his struggle for an education. As he grew older he realized
that he must set his mind toward preserving his body or he
would never be able to accomplish his goal — a professorship
in the University of Konigsberg.
His early experiences with physicians did not increase his
confidence in the medical profession, so he came to the deci-
sion that the first law of health was to keep away from doc-
tors. During his entire lifetime it was his boast that in his
mature years he had never gone to a doctor, no matter how
grievous his illness. He lived by the sheer force of will, and
in one of his essays he discusses the power of will and pur-
pose over the limitations of the flesh. His training in mathe-
matics and his intense desire to extend his life resulted in the
completely ordered existence for which he was famous.
Kant never broke a habit nor deviated from one in the
slightest degree. He believed, for example, that for the sake
of health he should always breathe through his nostrils when
walking out of doors. As a consequence he would not speak
to his best friend if he chanced to meet him on the street be-
cause it would necessitate opening his mouth. If he had met
the king face to face he would not have spoken; a rule is a
rule.
The little professor also maintained that a man’s life, to
be long, must be regular. At that time coffee was one of the
elegancies, a luxury that few could indulge in, but Kant had
 Tue MessiaH oF Pure REASON 169

one cup of coffee at exactly the same time every day for forty-
six years. He went for a walk every afternoon at three-thirty,
and the neighbors set their clocks by him.
During the entire period of his professorship Kant was
never known to be a little early or a little late to a meal, and
there is no record that he ever performed a spontaneous
action. Naturally, such rigid self-discipline depressed the
romantic side of his life. It is said that he twice fell in love,
a state of mind and heart that threatened to interfere with
his prescribed routine. He was so hesitant about changing
his ways that the first young lady married someone else while
he was weighing the values involved. The second object of
his affections he considered seriously for a period of about ten
years, but she finally moved away. The difficulty seemed to
hinge upon his food habits; he always ate at a certain time,
and any interference with this rhythm would be extremely
serious.
In all probability Kant suffered from a deep-seated in-
feriority complex. Physically small and weak, he was con-
stantly belittled by his contemporaries. Also his mind ma-
tured slowly, possibly from lack of vitality. Had he died in
his fifties he would have had no great influence on world
thought. At forty he did not know that he was going to be
a philosopher, and at sixty-seven he was one of the greatest
philosophers who ever lived.
Kant’s early ambitions centered around his desire to be a
college professor. Each time he applied for the position he
was refused because of his most unprepossessing appearance.
Mousy is the term by which he has been described. His one
affectation was a manservant walking behind him holding an
umbrella over his head.
170 PatHways oF PHILOSOPHY

When Kant was eighteen he decided that the secret of a

high destiny was to decide what one intended to do, and then
permit no force of circumstance to interfere with the accom-
plishment of that end. By consistently following that premise
he finally achieved his professorship.
Kant was fifty-seven when he published his Critique of
Pure Reason. The work resulted from years of slow and
careful deductions. In this the power of reason is set up to
limit the absolute free will of the individual by the ideas of
duty and right. In the moral sphere virtue consists of obedi-
ence to the dictation of duty, which in turn is the constraint
imposed by the legislative power of reason. Judgment is
established as a middle ground between theoretical and prac-
tical knowledge. The power of judgment is to subordinate
particulars to the universals from which they originate. The
judgment operates partly by means of classification and partly
by reflection.
What could be more Neoplatonic than Kant’s suspension
of particulars from their generals. Proclus more than a
thousand years earlier referred to created things as effulgent
blossoms suspended from their spiritual causes. Kant merely
moved causation downward from the plane of pure conscious-
ness to the plane of pure mentation.
Of the personal life of Immanuel Kant during his years
of professorship at Konigsberg there is almost nothing to tell.
The ordinary experiences that make up the life of the average
person never touched this strange little man. According to
one of his biographers his life passed like the most regular
of regular verbs, but by the same definition it was an active
verb with no passive form—but all the activity was internal.
In the years following the publication of Critique of Pure
Reason Kant became an acknowledged leader in the intellec-
 Tue MessiAH oF Pure REAson 171

tual world. Questions on every possible subject were brought

to him, and his decisions were regarded as little less than
scriptural. The philosopher enjoyed this high esteem with
appropriate modesty, being too much involved in his own
mental labors to appreciate the sphere of influence he had
created. All went well until he extended his efforts into the
province of theology. At that point he came into violent col-
lision with the literal theological doctrine of the Lutheran
Church. The chances are that he had little if any interest in
the sectarianism of his day. He was looking for answers to
questions, and his groping led him into the preserves of the
Church.
We can imagine Kant wrestling with the problem of
universal creation. If God created the world, who created
God? What about evolution? Why must all life grow when
an all-powerful God could have fashioned it perfect in the
first place? If Deity is by nature all-powerful, all-wise, and
all-good, why did it loose in space an infinite diversity of
contradictions, discords, and contentions? How is the love
of God to be reconciled with the obvious fact that all living
things survive by destroying each other? Why must existence
be an eternal struggle against adverse inevitables? What
power in heaven or earth put into man’s head the desire to
be rich? Why is piety necessary; the process of being grate-
ful for something we may never get? What is happiness,
and how is it to be attained? Why did a perfect God fashion
a human being so ignorant that he is incapable of understand-
ing his own Father, and has to approach him by means of
an involved, contradictory man-made theology? Why do we
have disease, sin, and suffering? If these are in payment for
some past evil action, why was that evil action necessary in
the first place? Why does man make mistakes if he was
172 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

fashioned in the image of his Creator? Does God make

mistakes?
It was impossible to construct a philosophy without con-
sideration of these vital issues, but it was inevitable that the
reasoning power would come to conclusions contrary to
Lutheranism. After Kant began his writings on Religion
within the Boundaries of Pure Reason, the storm broke. Per-
haps he believed his position was strong enough to risk the
wrath of the clergy. If so he was presently disillusioned. The
government forbade the little man any further pronounce-
ments concerning the possible inconsistencies of Christian
theology. He took refuge behind the strong walls of the
University of Konigsberg, and with the permission of the
faculty continued applying his Critique to the Lutheran
dogma.
About that time Kant was accused of favoring the cause
of the French Revolution, which the German princes were
viewing with increasing alarm. The combination of the
Lutheran clergy and the French Revolution influenced Fred-
erick the Great of Prussia to forbid, on pain of the full weight
of his imperial displeasure, any further excursions into the
delicate subject of theology.
For the first time in his life Kant had to bow to a will
stronger than his own. Although he seemed to accept the
situation gracefully, his ego was mortally wounded. The
interdict was lifted after the death of the king, but it was too
late. The strong spirit had been broken by a single reverse,
and never recovered its vigor. Kant’s mind lacked the philo-
sophic optimism and the depth of mystical understanding
which could have carried him through his period of stress.
Pure reason is of little comfort in adversity.
 Tue Messtan oF Pure REASON 173

The little professor gave up most of his class work and

withdrew more and more into himself. A corresponding
decline attacked his mental vigor, and his last writings are a
feeble restatement of his earlier works. Later he was afflicted
with falling and fainting spells, and his sight was affected.
Most of the symptoms indicate hypochondria and _psycho-
logical frustration. Near the end of his life he broke one of
his inflexible rules and permitted the services of a physician.
He died on the 12th of February, 1804, having not quite com-
pleted his 80th year. He did not lose his mind, but he lost
the power and intellectual brilliance of his earlier years.
Wordiness has been the peculiar burden of learning. Since
the beginning of man’s intellectual life he has involved his
thoughts in abstruse terms under the delusion that obscurity
of style was an indication of superiority of intellect. Charles
Darwin managed to state the Darwinian theory in as many
words as it was possible to bring to bear upon the subject.
Herbert Spencer, a man of great idealism, was loquacious to
the degree of exhaustion, and Huxley fell into a slough of
words from which he never escaped. Even the fiction writers
were afflicted with this malady of language. Dickens, Thack-
eray, and Scott, not to mention earlier novelists, were sincerely
convinced that words were things to conjure with, and the
magic they wrought was magnificent but enervating.
Immanuel Kant was a supreme master of the art of using
words as a method of obscuring meanings. Will Durant in
his Story of Philosophy thus footnotes his chapter on the im-
mortal philosopher: “Kant himself is hardly intelligible, be-
cause his thought is insulated with a bizarre and intricate
terminology (hence the paucity of direct quotation in this.
chapter).”
174 Patuways OF PHILOSOPHY

The Man Who Killed God

Kant’s contemporaries ridiculed him for his obscurity of

style. It was stated in his own time that in the process of his
philosophy the little professor had killed God. It would be
more accurate, it seems, to say that he murdered the meaning
of words. Perhaps the dilemma is best expressed by an
example. Here are a few simple lines of definition from the
Critique of Pure Reason: “Thus Totality is nothing but Plur-
ality contemplated as Unity; Limitation is merely Reality
conjoined with Negation; Community is the Causality of a
Substance, reciprocally determining, and determined by other
substances; and finally Necessity is nothing but Existence,
which is given through the Possibility itself.”
The critical system of Kant is concerned with the study
of the phenomena of consciousness in an effort to discover the
invariable principles of knowledge, but even he could find
no adequate definition for consciousness. He believed, how-
ever, that behind all manifestations of thought and action
were invariable laws as exact as mathematics. To acquire
knowledge is a duty, and to act in accordance with its prin-
ciples is a virtue. He rescued mind from matter, and set up
intellectual power as the ruler of personal life. But he im-
mediately imposed strict rules upon the workings of the
mind. These rules constitute the substance of reason, which
must be the criterion of all values.
Seeking desperately for a peg of certainty on which to
hang his system, Kant found mathematics the perfect and
invariable science. He developed an almost fanatical devotion
for the fact that three and three make six. Here was some-
thing simple, undeniable, and obvious. It never occurred to
 Tue MesstaH oF Purr REASON 175

him that the very simplicity of this fact was the source of its
strength and charm. Had he written his philosophy in
words of one syllable his books would have had the weight
of Scripture; as it is, he is studied mostly in digest form.
Neither the university professor nor the thoughtful layman
can enjoy their reading of Kant. The total lack of emotional
content also detracts seriously from the readability of the
texts.
Most persons looking for the reason behind the phenom-
ena of life seek outwardly for the answers. Kant realized
that the weakness of the sciences was due to the weakness of
the scientist himself. There was nothing mysterious about
life or living. Mysteries arose from misunderstanding. The
mind which links the person desiring to know and the thing
to be known was inadequate and subject to numerous fallacies.
When Kant picked up an apple his eyes told him it was
an apple; when he smelled it his nose told him it was an
apple; when he bit into it his sense of taste told him it was
an apple; and when his fingers closed about it his sense of
feeling told him that it was the shape of an apple. From all
these testimonies he decided that he was holding an apple;
this was highly reasonable. But suppose that the subject of
his consideration was something (just as real as an apple) that
his sensory perceptions could not agree upon, some of these
senses perceiving it and others rejecting it. The result must
be confusion. Man is a living, thinking, conscious creature
connected with the universe about him only by means of his
five senses—five little windows through which he must ex-
plore outer space. Unfortunately, the sense perceptions are
peculiarly inept for the use that man wants to make of them.
The universe is not to blame for human suffering; it is
man himself, who is incapable of seeing the large plan and
176 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

therefore unable to work in harmony with the purposes of

the world. This realization opened a large field of thought
for the professor. He had hit upon a great truth, which even
his mind could not fully comprehend.
After centuries of civilization and culture we still trust
implicitly in the testimonies revealed by the five little win-
dows. And it seldom occurs to anyone to doubt the findings
of his senses. Kant asked the question, “Although all the
sense perceptions tell us that the object we are holding is an
apple, how do we know it to be a fact?” All that passes into
the mind from outside is merely testimony that it is an apple.
It is not even a picture of the apple. It is not something
round that the nerve impulses actually carry to the brain,
nor is it the taste of the apple; it is in truth only a series of
impulses bearing witness.
What makes an apple? Kant thought about that depress-
ing problem on many of his afternoon walks. What enables
man through his sensory perceptions to take one substance
and assert, “This is an apple.” It never occurs to the average
individual who says, “This is a chair”, to wonder how he
knows it is a chair. An actual chair does not go into the
brain; a series of impulses cannot of themselves have any
actual shape. Brought together, however, they are capable of
creating an internal pattern which we know to be a chair.
We look at people, but it is not our brain that sees their faces;
all that is received is a series of impulses. As these impulses
strike the brain they instantly create a pattern, and it is only
in this way that we see faces. Everything we do depends
upon the coming of these messages, and upon something
inside taking hold of these messages and making sense out
of them.
 Tue MesstaH oF Pure REASON 177

We always overlook the obvious. It required someone

like Immanuel Kant to discover the marvelous machinery
which enables us to see a teacup. The answer could not come
to one who runs, so he walked slowly. He was resolved to
discover what power there was in man which enabled him to
say with assurance, “I see a teacup.”
Out of his deliberations Kant divided life into two parts,
the noumenal and the phenomenal existence. The nou-
menal, the causal factor, is inside of man and is the estimator
and the weigher. The phenomenal is the thing outside of
man which must be estimated and weighed. Phenomenal
impulses are constantly going into the noumenal world; and
equally constantly the nounsenal is sending out reflexes and
reactions. That seems rather simple, but it is not so obvious
when Kant tells it in three hundred pages.
We are now presented with a number of important prob-
lems. We are made the victims of our own sensory percep-
tions. When the eyes fail we become blind; a part of the
world is cut off from us. To the degree that the sensory
perceptions are developed the impulses are correct, but even
if all five senses are developed and bear testimony we have
not seen all; intangible things must still be considered. In-
tangibles remain mysterious, not because they are real mys-
teries but because we have no way of estimating them. It is
this line of thought which caused Kant to be included among
the transcendentalists.
The universe is mathematical—absolute order and absolute
consistency. Two important things about the universe we
can grasp in part. One is time and the other is place. Time
is a pet illusion of some schools and a pet reality of others.
Time creates the possibility of a sequence. Time is the mea-
178 PatHways OF PHILOSOPHY

sure of the order of circumstances and incidents. For in-

stance, the Old Testament in the original Hebrew form was
written without tense. That has left us very uncertain about
biblical chronology. With the time factor missing we do not
know when things happened, and the sequence of cause and
effect is broken. If we do not know the relation of one in-
cident to another we cannot draw any moral conclusions
from the order of happenings. Time as we know it is
swallowed up in eternity, and is only a device of man. Yet
whether it is a device of man or a reality, it is necessary as
one of the factors in estimating life.
Place is the other important element. What is located in
time and place is capable of definition. If it is not in time
or in place it is not capable of definition. Hence it is impos-
sible to define God, whose time and place boundaries are
unknowable.

The Critique of Pure Reason

Kant’s mind was constantly developed to the establishment

of certain boundaries in the universal mystery. These boun-
daries were law and order, time and place, sequence and cir-
cumstance, and in his Critique of Pure Reason, which is not
really a critical work, we are given the fruits of his research.
No great system of philosophy merely tells someone that
he is wrong; it attempts to point out the proper means for
solution. Kant is very sincere in his effort to point out the
correct course of action, both in the accumulation of facts and
the assimilation of knowledge. Philosophy can be defined as
a pattern for reasonable living. He accepted this viewpoint
and offered these suggestions: You are a part of the universe;
you exist in time and place; you are a fragment existing
 THE MesstaH oF Purse Reason 179

within a larger fragment. Therefore, if you wish to exist

toward survival you must play the game of life according to
the laws of the larger fragment, which is your world. Right
and wrong are agreement with or departure from the morals
and ethics of the larger universe. If you agree with the pat-
tern of the world you are right. If you disagree with the
pattern of the world you are wrong, and will be punished by
the simple circumstance of maladjustment.
So Kant, like the Taoists of China, advised the individual
to pattern his conduct after universals rather than according
to the dictates of men.
Buried in the curious phraseology of his writings Kant
introduced the term categorical imperative for a moral law
that is unconditional or absolute, or whose validity or claim
does not depend on any ulterior motive or end. If you wish
to live well you must so conduct yourself that if your way
of life were applied to all creatures there would be no in-
justice in the universe. This was the little professor’s sub-
stitute for the Golden Rule. For example, some men want
to accumulate worldly goods. If every creature in the uni-
verse desired to accumulate, could each have sufficient for its
needs?
Consider theology, a most vexing issue. Is it conceivable
that the great suns moving in space and the tiny electrons
moving an atom are arguing about their religious denomina-
tion? Furthermore, would they be any wiser, better, or
happier if they devoted themselves to such a pursuit? If not,
there is no likelihood of such arguments proving profitable
to the human being.
Suppose you have a tendency to lose your temper under
certain provocation. How does this fit into the order of the
world? If God lost his temper and sulked in space, what
180 PatHways oF PHILOSOPHY

would happen to mortal creation? Research indicates that

God has an even disposition, and if you would be godlike
the divine example is worth following.
It was no intention of Kant to remove the Creator from
his universe. He tried rather to prove that the world was
ruled by a principle and not by a person; by laws rather than
by whims; by reason rather than by despotism. Out of a mis-
understanding of his philosophy has come modern materialism.
Kant did not intend to kill God but to destroy a false con-
ception of God which had originated in ignorance of the
universal plan. We now realize that he was right when he
impersonalized Deity and recognized God as the reality
behind the world manifesting through law and made visible
through form. The universe is the embodiment of principles,
and God who is the father of ali is not a fretful old man
who hardened Pharaoh’s heart, but an immutable principle
manifesting as wisdom, virtue, strength, and beauty.
The writings of Kant present a marked contrast to those
of the philosophers who preceded him, for example Sir
Francis Bacon and René Descartes. Bacon, though also a
small man physically, was a philosophical optimist, and ideal-
ist. His philosophy was based upon a broad Platonic tolerance
of thinking; it was great, gentle, and noble. The Platonic
philosophy invites us to see the good in everything, and in-
clines us to forgive the faults and limitations of our fellow
creatures. Most of all it preserves Deity as a moral entity.
God indeed is in his heaven and all is right with the world.
In the Academy at Athens it was Aristotle who sat to one
side listening and doubting. Broad generalizations were not
enough on which to build a philosophy of particulars. If
certain general facts were true, it must be possible to prove
them, at least dialectically. So Aristotle set up the machinery
 Tue MesstaH oF Pure Reason 181

of categories to put the world in order, and this heritage of

mental tidiness was passed on to Immanuel Kant, the person-
ification of neatness and precision. To Kant there must be
certain categories of knowledge; whether they are pessimistic
or optimistic, whether idealistic or materialistic, they must be
accepted because they are necessary. He demanded absolute
philosophical integrity. Perhaps honesty was sometimes
brutal and unpleasant, but it was man’s duty to face the facts.
In this he differed from Plato, who might have defined
honesty as a gentle acceptance of the beauty and goodness
everywhere present in the world.
The little professor of Konigsberg was not by nature bel-
ligerent or intentionally dictatorial; he was shy, reticent, and
kindhearted. He had a particular affection for young people,
and was always ready to guide them with sound and practical
advice. He preferred to recognize the better side of human
nature, and held few grudges. He was as generous as meager
means would allow, but never permitted students to attend
his classes without payment of the prescribed fee. This was
a matter of principle, for he sincerely believed that it weak-
ened character to ease the path of learning. Those who
struggle for what they want gain the strength to use that
which they learn.

The Dignity of Duty

Kant had great regard for what he called duty. To be

morally worth while, an action must be inspired by a sense
of responsibility. Here again he is obscure, for it is not exactly
plain what he meant by the word duty, or the degree of
emotional content present in the concept of responsibility.
But not given to glamorizing his doctrine, he probably meant
182 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

the rather tedious implications we now associate with the

thought.
The merit of action is gained not by the consequences
achieved but from the integrity of the motive. It may be
that we cannot accomplish the end which duty dictates, but
if we try we establish moral worth, and this increases with
the prolonged consistency of effort. The greater the obstacles
which stand between us and the fulfillment of our moral
action, the greater the merit stored up within us.
It is our primary duty to live according to our conception
of life. When we discover the laws governing the universal
plan we are responsible to ourselves for a way of conduct in
harmony with those laws. The highest moral virtue is, there-
fore, obedience to the dictates of conviction. Conversely,
moral delinquency is to believe one thing and practice its
contrary. Courage is the power to be true to ourselves.
Kant did not consider the possibility that a sense of duty
could result in a variety of oppressive devotions. Some of the
most unhappy and destructive actions which mortals have
indulged in were inspired by a perverted sense of duty. To
be true to self, the self must be true to truth. This comes
back to Pilate’s question which Jesus did not answer, “What
is truth?”
It is inconceivable that man can attain perfect understand-
ing by the reasoning powers alone. The emotions also must
play their part in the ennobling of human character. The
emotions always play havoc with rational systems of thought.
Intuition is closely associated with the sublimation of the
emotional content in the human personality. By intuition
an inspirational power is released by which man is brought
into direct contact with universal values. Kant could not
know this because it was beyond his experience.
 Tue MesstaH of Pure REASON 183

Kant would not accept the miraculous as a means of prov-

ing a religious tradition. In the first place, it is difficult to
secure an accurate description of an extraphysical phenom-
enon. Under the glamour of the incident the mind is lured
away from a critical analysis and falls into self-deception.
In the second place, our comparative ignorance of the laws
governing matter and mind makes it impossible for us to
fit the apparently unreasonable incident into the larger pat-
tern of universal reasonableness.
Kant also discounted prayer on the ground that to pray
for that which is contrary to the law of life is to demand the
impossible. A law which can be deflected by the supplica-
tions of fretful and selfish mortals would be of little use in
maintaining the harmony of the world. He saved his bitterest
denunciations, however, for those theological institutions
which aligned themselves with political despotism, using their
religious influence as a means for perpetuating intellectual
and physical tyranny. It was at this stage of his philosophy
that he came into conflict with Lutheran Protestantism.
The practical application of Kant’s philosophy comes with
the realization that the human mind possesses the power to
resist the pressure of circumstances. It can accept or reject
the sensations which flow into it from environment, tradition,
and experimentation. Man is not a mere victim of his world;
he makes or unmakes his own destiny, and can be wiser than
his time through self-discipline. Good and evil are not facts
in themselves; they are interpretations set up within the indi-
vidual. We are not destined to misery because those about
us are devoted to perverted codes of living. Each of us can
live well anywhere, anytime, if we know how to live in
obedience to universal law.
184 PatHuways OF PHILOSOPHY

It was inevitable that so revolutionary a viewpoint would

produce numerous and distinguished adversaries. The con-
fusion was increased by the obscurity of Kant’s style, which
opened his writings to a variety of misunderstandings. The
principal objections were that the Kantian system destroyed
all rational belief in God, undermined man’s conviction of
the immortality of the soul, and negated the objective reality
of knowledge. If we cannot trust our intuitions in matters
mystical and theological, and cannot trust the testimony of
our sense perceptions in matters physical and material, where-
in shall we rest our faith?
Among the important philosophers to be influenced by
Kant’s critical method are Johann Gottlieb Fichte and Fried-
rich Wilhelm Joseph von Schelling. Both of these men estab-
lished permanent places for themselves in the sphere of dialec-
tic knowledge. Schelling, in an effort to amend Kant’s sys-
tem, made use of his profound acquaintance with the theories
of Plato, Bruno, and Spinoza. He defined virtue as “a state
of the soul in which it conforms itself not to an external
law but an internal necessity of its own nature.” He further
defined history as the progressively developed revelation of
Deity. Here we see God returning to his original place as the
source of all good and the end of all philosophy.
In Schelling’s system, the infinite life at the source of all
things attains self-development according to three motions or
movements. The first is reflection, by which the Infinite em-
bodies itself in the finite. The second is subsumption, by
which the absolute liberates itself from the finite state. The
third movement is reason, which is a neutral ground wherein
the two former movements are blended and balanced. After
Schelling came the chaos, and the German school of philos-
 Tue MesstaH oF Purr REAson 185

ophy specialized itself into a number of systems with only

mutual antagonism in common.
“The end of philosophy,” wrote Plato, “is the intuition of
unity.” Yet the moment we attempt to examine the phe
nomena of life we are inclined to depart from unity and set
up difference as a means of comparison and estimation. Per-
ception is an action which involves unification. It is the re-
flection upon the things perceived that immediately tends
toward analysis. According to Anaxagoras, “The mind
knows only when it subdues its objects; when it reduces the
many to the one.”
Both Leibnitz and Kant attempted to reveal the nature of
true knowledge as multitude in unity. Division exists within
fact, but fact itself is never divided. We have the privilege
of examining diversity as far as the intellect will permit and
at the same time retain the realization of its basic oneness.
The moment we lose sight of unity we are outside the bounds
of reason. Pythagoras used numbers to reveal the mystery of
unity. One is the perfect number because it is the unit and
the unity, the one and the all. Within the nature of the one
exists the other numerals. Two, for example, is not two
ones, but one in the term of halves. Three is one in the
term of thirds, and so on. This is a subtle point, but it is the
sure foundation of knowledge. The only possible way of
escaping dualism is to recognize it as a division within unity
and not a division of unity.
Kant was particularly weak in his estimation of aesthetics,
and we may infer that he was little given to artistic emotions.
To him art was a production. Mechanical art was the per-
formance of a certain prescribed technique for the attainment
of a definite purpose. Aesthetic art had pleasure as its im-
186 PatHways OF PHILOSOPHY

mediate purpose, and fine art implied that pleasure was under
the criticism of judgment.
The problem of beauty caused the little professor consid-
erable difficulty. He finally decided that in quality beauty is
that which pleases without any particular interest in the ob-
ject itself. In quantity, beauty implies a universal pleasure be-
cause we expect others to share our enjoyment. In relation,
beauty is a form without any particular end because we do not
expect utility as an attribute of pleasure. In modality, beauty
is a necessary satisfaction; that which is truly beautiful must
cause pleasure. Kant tried a little harder with this problem,
and concluded that the agreeable stimulates desire, the good
gives motive to the will, and the beautiful demands the
reaction of pleasure.
In all this ponderous effort to rationalize aesthetic impulse
Kant was handicapped by the fact that, so far as history
records, he never personally experienced a spontaneous emo-
tion. We can compare his definitions with the simple nobil-
ity of Neoplatonic mysticism. Plotinus in his essay On The
Beautiful tells us simply that beauty is the will of God re-
vealed in the patterns of nature. Wherever there is law work-
ing without opposition the patterns that are set up reveal the
unity of life, the ever-present good, and the power of the soul
over form. We call this revelation beauty.
Most of the philosophers we have written of in these books
were men who lived rich and diversified lives. They mingled
with every type of mind, and according to the opportunities
of their time were widely traveled. Most of them accepted
the challenge of personal problems, and from depth of experi-
ence and breadth of vision evolved their systems. Kant never
traveled. He built an impervious wall between himself
and personal living. Confusion interfered with the continuity
 Tue MesstaH oF Pure REASON 187

of his thinking. All interruptions were disagreeable to him.

He read considerably, but did not find books open doors to
intellectual adventure. He was impressed principally by the
stupidity of the authors because they failed in what he con-
sidered a proper measure of intellectual criticism.
Philosophy is a way of life, and it is impossible to perfect
the structure of inner conviction without actual experience.
Whenever Kant touched on a living issue he retired behind
his wall of theories. He was profound but not well-balanced,
and his system suffered from a lack in the man himself.
Kant was so depressed by the sight of suffering that he refused
to visit a sick friend. When Plato was informed that a
student or acquaintance was ill he hastened to him immedi-
ately that he might bring consolation and wisdom. Saint
Augustine on his deathbed received a supplicant who sought
comfort. These incidents alone reveal the difference between
classical idealism and modern rationalism.
The results of Kant’s teachings have been incalculable.
It is safe to say that all philosophy after his time was in-
fluenced by his method. While this is especially true of
German philosophy, it is also generally true of most other
European and American schools. After revising, amending,
reforming, and recriticizing Kant, we have as a final product
mechanism, the pride of the modern intellectual. Mechanis-
tic materialism may be defined as the total eclipse of idealism
in formal thinking. The universe is a machine, self-creating,
self-operating, and capable of repairing itself if it breaks
down. There is no need for God or any spiritual cause be-
hind the phenomena of the world. This smug, practical, and
completely intellectual solution to the larger problems of liv-
ing and thinking now dominates the sphere of higher educa-
tion.
188 PatHways OF PHILOSOPHY

Skepticism approaching cynicism is a sophisticated and

superficial attitude, and of little help in time of trouble. It
flourishes in eras of prosperity when the human being is very
sure of himself and filled with conceits about the magnitude
of his own accomplishments. Conversely, it languishes when-
ever mankind gets into serious trouble. The successful busi-
ness man adding up his profits in the security of his sump-
tuously appointed offices talks glibly about his materialistic
convictions. It is part of the philosophy of rugged individwal-
ism and the survival of the fittest. But when tragedy strikes,
when depressions sweep away financial security, and when
wars threaten the life and happiness of the individual, mech-
anistic materialism loses general favor. When we do not
need God we are materialists, but when we are in trouble we
become idealists.
Kant did not intend that his philosophy should breed an
utter materialism. It was his desire merely to clarify the
position of the human mind in relationship to the phenomena
of the outer world. But he supplied the instruments necessary
to the fashioning of a broad skepticism. The disciples of
Kant outdid their master in zeal if not in judgment, using
his means to justify their own ends.

A Priori and A Posteriori

There are two terms in philosophy which we should all

understand, @ priori and a posteriori. Kant defines a priori
knowledge as that which exists absolutely independent of
experience, and a posteriori knowledge as that which can be
derived only from experience. By acknowledging the exist-
ence of a priori knowledge, Kant deserves to be included
among the Platonists. Knowledge can arise from within
 Tue MessiAH OF Pure REASON 189

the individual and manifest in the form of unalterable con-

victions, that relate to the existence of God, the reality of
Good, and the immortality of the human soul. None of
these convictions arise directly from experience, but may re-
ceive certain justification or proof from experience.
A priori knowledge is concerned for the most part with
subjects beyond analysis by the reason. They arise from an
internal necessity, and are justified by that necessity.
A posteriori knowledge has its origin in individual or
common experience. By larger implication it becomes the
basis of all sciences which originate in the observation of
phenomena and its classification into categories. Materialism
is built upon the foundation of a posteriori knowledge, and
theoretically at least its doctrines are provable by experience.
A laboratory, for example, is a place set aside for the inten-
sification of experience along specialized lines. It sometimes
happens that experience comes into conflict with internal
conviction, and this is responsible for the disunity in the fields
of learning.
Plato has come to be recognized as the personification of
a priori knowledge and Aristotle the personification of a
posteriori knowledge. These two men are the embodiments
of the eternal conflict between the internal and the external
for dominion over the intellect. Plato has been favored by
the laity because he personifies the hopes of man and the
human dream toward universal good. Aristotle is admired
by the trained thinker because his conclusions are based upon
facts which can be experienced by the intellect.
Mysticism, which was the Neoplatonic contribution, sought
to bind up the wounds caused by the extremists of the two
previous groups. The Neoplatonists taught that it was pos-
190 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

sible to experience a priori knowledge. Man, by perfecting

the internal extrasensory perceptions, could explore cause
with the same security with which he now examines only
effects.
All of the great philosophers have contributed something
to the enrichment of the rational tradition. Even materialism
will in the end play its part in the perfection of human ideals.
By exploring every possible aspect of the world as thought
and experience we are gradually but inevitably approaching
the realization of unity. As the philosopher must experience
all things himself in order to attain ultimate wisdom, so
philosophical systems must examine every part of nature,
human and divine, before the ultimate synthesis is possible.
Through diversity we are becoming aware of unity. Through
the many we are discovering the one. But when that dis-
covery is complete we shall be aware of the dignity of the one
because we have examined thoroughly all of its parts and
members. We approached philosophy first as a study of the
anatomy of the divine man; now we must go further and
realize that the next step is to regard philosophy as the phys-
iology of space.
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 7
THE NEW ENGLAND TRANSCENDENTALISTS

RatpH Watpo EMERSON, THE SAGE OF CoNcoRD

Eclecticism, the Poor-Man’s Philosophy

HE charm and power of the philosophic way of life are

revealed particularly through the diversity of tempera-
ments which have dedicated themselves to the service of
wisdom. There was gentle Plato and critical Aristotle, skep-
tical Socrates and cynical Diogenes, ecstatic Plotinus and
repentant Augustine; each was different in the quality of his
vision and the capacity to interpret that vision, yet all were
devoted to the service of the human need. Such, then, is
the power of philosophy that it can adapt any instrument to
its eternal purposes.
Certainly it is easier to define philosophy than it is to
describe philosophers. In the present work we have traced
the lives and teachings of several great men. Here we have
met pious Aquinas, bombastic Paracelsus, noble Bacon and
humble Boehme, methodical Kant and friendly Emerson.
Each was a distinct human being with a highly specialized
type of mind, and there was little in common in their person-

191
192 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

alities and temperaments, yet they shared one disposition—

love of learning—which manifested as an irresistible impulse
to improve the spiritual state of their fellow creatures. Truth
was their journey, and they traveled far.
In presenting a survey of world thought covering a wide
vista of time and place it is pertinent to warn the reader
against the dangers of eclecticism. In simple definition eclec-
ticism is a system of thinking which advocates the selectior
of useful or acceptable doctrines from various sources without
consideration of the inconsistencies which may exist among
the basic principles involved. The eclectic method has been
called the poor man’s philosophy for the reason that the
majority of untrained thinkers fall into the basic dilemma
which it presents.
Eclecticism provides a Roman holiday for the skeptics,
and these doubting Thomases are forever pointing out the ir-
reconcilable differences between systems of thinking to the
end of proving the universal absence of truth. How can we
be sure of anything, they ask, in the presence of a general
and ably-sustained disagreement?
Syncretism takes the attitude of compromise, recommend-
ing a broad modification of all extreme doctrines in the cause
of consistency. Therefore it may be defined as the philos-
ophy of appeasement. But the eclectic is not burdened with
any reasonable or unreasonable doubts. If he comes upon an
idea which is satisfactory to his needs and purposes he in-
corporates it into the body of his doctrine, whether it be
Eastern or Western, ancient or modern, orthodox or un-
orthodox.
The ancient Romans were by temperament and circum-
stance given to eclecticism, and outstanding among them in
this persuasion were Cicero, Marcus Aurelius and Boethius.
 Tue New ENcLtaAnpD TRANCENDENTALISTS 193

In the opinion of Edward Gibbon, Boethius was the last

Roman whom Cato or Tully could have acknowledged for
a countryman. With him the structure of pagan idealism
came to an end.
That great and noble thoughts are to be found in all sys-
tems of philosophy is undeniable, and the liberality of mind
which realizes and accepts this fact certainly is commendable.
But the danger lies in the tendency to accept a variety of ideas
without sufficient thoughtfulness. A philosophic school is a
systematic development of basic principles applied to a variety
of intellectual particulars. In all systematic procedure the
conclusion is suspended from logical premises, and in turn
becomes an element in further compounds. Separated from
the system of which it is a part, the fragment loses its vitality
and is no longer useful as an instrument of judgment.
There is an interesting fable which illustrates this situation.
The truth seeker is represented as a kindly and well-disposed
man wandering along a country lane bordered with countless
wild flowers, their beautiful blossoms symbolizing noble
thoughts. The wanderer is inspired to gather a bouquet of
many colors to ornament his house, and does not realize that
the moment he picks the blossoms from their parent stem
they will die. The beauty will linger for a short time, but
the flowers must fade because the source of their life is gone.
Eclecticism, like a nosegay of bright flowers, pleases the
eye, satisfies the emotion, and ornaments the person; it is the
philosophy of the dilettante, pleasing but perishable. Because
all of the colors of nature are harmonious the flowers look
well together, but each has an integrity of its own which is
lost by those who admire only the general effect. It does not
follow that we should close our minds to the good thoughts
of other men, and it is here that Neoplatonism points the way
194 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

to solution. Like Buddhism in Asia, this Alexandrian school

extended its influence through a diversity of sects and creeds
without falling into the eclectical error. First the individual
must establish his philosophy of life—a large general frame-
work of invariable universal laws. Into this inclusive general-
ity he may then incorporate any number of diverse particulars
by subjecting them to the censorship of trained reason. We
can be eclectic only to the degree that our intellect can fit a
variety of details into a well-developed reference frame. We
may accept as many ideas as we can unify by the strength of
our own understanding. All difference is circumscribed by
unity, even as all nature with its infinite variety of manifesta-
tions is within one principle of being. Whoever discovers
the one can safely consider the phenomena of the many, but
if the one is not clearly known by inner experience the
pageantry of the many presents a hopeless confusion.
All men are profoundly influenced by the styles and habits
of their times. It is natural for democratic systems of govern-
ment to foster eclectic systems of thinking. We mistake lack
of thoroughness for liberality of mind. Intellectual tolerance
infers the right of each individual to express his own convic-
tions, but it does not necessarily follow that each must em-
brace the convictions of other men in order to convey the
impression of broad-mindedness. The breadth of modern ex-
perience confronts each of us with a diversity of human ideas,
and the temptation to believe everything is as dangerous as
the temptation to believe nothing. Possibly the ancient
world was stronger and more consistent in its intellectual
processes because the area of its practical experience was more
restricted. We are greatly influenced by the thoughts of those
about us, and this pressure overwhelms the integrity of our
own intellect. We agree with all because it is the easier way.
 Tue New ENcLAND TRANCENDENTALISTS 195

Having committed ourselves it becomes a duty to defend

our commitments, and thinking degenerates into intellectual
ingenuity. We are broad-minded simply because it is the
fashion of our time, but we are not thorough for the reason
that systematic thinking is not a part of our experience.
It is usual for writers dealing with the subject of Amer-
ican philosophy to divide our systems into two broad classifica-
tions—imported and indigenous. Up to the present time
most of our intellectual tradition has come from Europe.
This is as true of art, literature, science, and religion, as it is
of philosophy. To date, the most noticeable break away from
foreign influence has been in architecture, which is taking on
a strong indigenous quality. In recent years there has been
a considerable influx of orientalism, but as yet this has not
made any deep impression upon our academic structure.
In many respects Ralph Waldo Emerson personified the
finer qualities of our American way of thinking, which is an
extension of Roman intellectualism. He was certainly an
eclectic, deriving his inspiration from a variety of compara-
tively unrelated sources. In his personality was that delicate
balance of aristocracy and democracy which is an outstanding
feature of our culture. Everything that he taught was ideal-
istic, liberal, and humanitarian, but the man himself was as
conservative as any Brahman, genteel in the extreme, and
completely aloof from the humanity which he loved and
served. He had a profound regard for mankind as a whole,
but was not especially patient or tolerant of any man in par-
ticular.

New England Romanticism

Emerson was the central figure in a group of philosoph-

ically inclined men and women who have come to be known
196 Patuways oF PHILOSOPHY

as the New England Transcendentalists. The group included

a number of our most brilliant intellectuals. Immanuel Kant
used the word transcendental to signify that which tran-
scended or went beyond the experience, especially the capacity
of the mind to achieve a true state of knowledge. Later the
word took on an extremely vague connotation, and was ap-
plied to a variety of mystical and metaphysical cults. With
Emerson transcendentalism was an extreme intuitionalism
growing out of the increasing influence of the Unitarian move-
ment. Emphasis was placed upon the internal capacity of
the individual to solve the problems of his life by the private
practice of a broad and liberal idealism.
The outstanding exponents of this New England roman-
ticism, in addition to Emerson, were Nathaniel Hawthorne,
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, John Greenleaf Whittier,
Oliver Wendell Holmes, James Russell Lowell, and Henry
David Thoreau. The writings of Thoreau in particular in-
fluenced the career of the prominent Hindu idealist and social
reformer, Mohandas Gandhi.
Perhaps we cannot do better than to define New England
transcendentalism in Emerson’s own words: “Man has a body,
wherein he is allied to the beasts; reason, which is his peculiar
endowment; a soul, which connects him with Deity. As an
animal, he has instincts, love for food, pleasure, which we
term appetites; as rational man, love for truth, intuitions of
the understanding, sympathies as a member of the human
family, affections of the heart; as a child of God, religious
aspirations. He is not merely an animal; nor an animal with
reason. His nature is triple—animal, rational, spiritual; and
it is to those systems, on whatever subject, which contemplate
him as a spiritual being, that we apply the term transcen-
dental.
 Tue New Encianp TRANCENDENTALISTS 197

That belief we term Transcendentalism which maintains

that man has ideas, that come not through the five senses, or
the powers of reasoning; but are either the result of direct
revelation from God, his immediate inspiration, or his im-
manent presence in the spiritual world.” Transcendentalism
and Other Addresses.
It does not require deep learning to discover the source
of this Emersonian definition. The words are rich with the
gentle nobility of Pythagoras, Plato, and Plotinus. Emerson
was widely read in the classical philosophy of the Greeks,
and was strongly persuaded by the utopian dream which
dominated the inspiration of the Greek idealists. His first
essay, written while he was a student at Harvard, was en-
titled The Character of Socrates. His opinion of Plato may
be estimated from a few brief quotations. In one place he
writes, “Out of Plato come all things that are still written and
debated among men of thought.” Later he adds, “Plato is
philosophy, and philosophy, Plato...” In the same essay he
tells us, “...the writings of Plato have preoccupied every
school of learning, every lover of thought, every church, every
poet—making it impossible to think, on certain levels, except
through him. He stands between the truth and every man’s
mind, and has almost impressed language and the primary
forms of thought with his name and seal.” Emerson refer-
red to the Alexandrian Neoplatonists as “a constellation of
genius.”
It is not too much to say that the New England Transcen-
dentalists were in fact Platonists and Neoplatonists, and one
cannot’ contemplate the deep and patient idealism of these
American scholars without feeling very close to the classical
nobility of the old Academy. Platonism was built upon the
recognition of the threefold constitution of man. First there
198 PaTHWays OF PHILOSOPHY

is the body which is the proper receptacle for the superior

principle, but is itself an animal nature. Second there is the
intellect, the power of self-knowing, that extension of the
mind into the sphere of reason by which it is possible for
the human being to become a philosopher. And third there
is that spiritual and divine part eternally verging toward God
and seeking to attain that mystical union with Deity which
is the end of all growth and aspiration. These are the Platonic
principles restated in Emerson’s definition of transcenden-
talism.
This strange mystical way of thought could not have
stemmed from the Platonic method unless Neoplatonism had
emphasized the mystical theology of Plato. The New Eng-
land intellectuals were Neoplatonic mystics rather than Pla-
tonic philosophers. Of course this restriction of definition is
made in deference to modern methods of classification. It
assumes the possibility of separating one stream of tradition
into two degrees or aspects, one essentially intellectual and
the other essentially spiritual. How many of those who have
loved the poems and essays of Emerson realize that through
him they have touched the fringe of Plato’s robe?
Durant in his Story of Philosophy gives only four short
quotations from Emerson, and does not include him in his
group of outstanding thinkers. Emerson belonged to a school
of thought that is not generally admired by the scholars of
today. Like the music and art of his time, his philosophy is
not regarded today as virile or dynamic; it is not filled with
criticisms, nor does it survive by attacking the opinions of
other systems. The ideals of transcendentalism are not to be
found in our American philosophers William James and
John Dewey, nor in our adopted son George Santayana.
 THe New ENcLAND TRANCENDENTALISTS 199

These ideals belonged to a race of thinkers that is rapidly dis-

appearing.
The world in which Emerson lived had little in common
with this amazing generation with its intense competitive in-
dustrialism, so he has come to be regarded as old-fashioned,
lacking the brittle brilliance which we demand from current
intellectuals. Not the founder of any great doctrine, Emerson
has been the inspiration of uncounted thousands who have
loved the clarity of his words and the deep humanness of
this dear old eclectic.
In his essay Plato; or, The Philosopher Emerson observed
that “Great geniuses have the shortest biographies. Their
cousins can tell you nothing about them.” The intellectual
activities of thoughtful persons do not make exciting reading.
The man lives in his works and these works are the story of
the man. All writings are to a degree autobiographical. Some
live adventurous lives exploring strange countries in distant
regions; others live adventurous thoughts, journeying far in
the fourth dimensional vistas of mental space. Emerson was
an armchair adventurer. Sitting quietly under the friendly
shade of Concord’s stately elms he sent forth his spirit along
the old road that leads to the philosophic empire.

Emerson, the Unitarian

Ralph Waldo Emerson, American poet, essayist, and

philosopher, was born in Boston, Massachusetts, on the 25th
of May, 1803. His background was strongly religious, and
at least seven of his ancestors were New England clergymen.
It was quite natural, therefore, that the religious content in
his nature should develop early and dominate his interests.
200 PatHways OF PHILOSOPHY

The Emerson family appears to have been extremely pur-

itanical in its convictions. Puritanism was a by-product of
the Protestant Reformation. It was religion deprived of most
of its emotional content, and those who practiced its tenets
developed a peculiar intensity, which invariably results from
the frustration of the aesthetic impulses. Life among the
New England Puritans was a serious business. Traditions
were strong, and there was constant emphasis upon the cultiva-
tion and practice of the homely virtues. Even in later life
Emerson reflected much of the conservative atmosphere in
which he was reared. This curious conflict between inherited
conservativeness and acquired liberalism is reflected in many
of his opinions. His viewpoint on woman’s suffrage is typical
of his divided allegiances. He was definitely in favor of
women having social, educational, and political equality with
men, but was markedly distressed at the thought of the various
public gatherings in which these principles were agitated.
Women in politics was a good idea, but women politicians
were not an attractive lot according to the Emersonian criteria.
At one time in his life our philosopher was intrigued by
the notion that a well-balanced personality should include a
certain amount of time devoted to manual labor, so he took
a hoe and went out into his garden each day in the hope of
cultivating a fondness for agrarian pursuits. After a time he
noticed that strenuous physical exercise interfered seriously
with his intellectual activities. He was too tired to write well
after this unaccustomed exercise, and in the end forsook the
idea as impractical.
In the same vein Emerson decided that democracy should
be applied to the servant question. He had two servants, and
resolved that they should eat at the family table on the basis
of entire equality. In this instance it was the hired help who
 Tue New ENcianp TRANCENDENTALISTS 201

rebelled, insisting that it greatly increased their work and

made it impossible for them to prepare and serve the food
properly. They appreciated the sentiment, but preferred to
run the kitchen according to the traditional plan.
When Emerson was only eight years old his father, who
was the minister of the First Unitarian Church of Boston,
died suddenly, leaving his eight children without adequate
financial protection, a condition not uncommon among the
clergy. Young Ralph then came under the influence of a
spinster aunt, Mary Moody Emerson, whom historians have
liked to term eccentric. But if her attitudes were conventional
and her mental horizons limited, her ambitions for the young
nephew were sincere. She recognized the signs of genius and
did everything possible to further his career. It was the lady’s
fond hope that Ralph would become a distinguished clergy-
man and outshine all the other ministers who had ornamented
the family tree. Miss Mary was a lonely, introverted soul,
blighted by the pressure of New England puritanism. The
tragedy of her own life impelled her toward the consolation
of religion, but as surely as she pressed her faith upon her
nephew so surely he drew away, not violently but quietly and
firmly. Her beliefs could not be his. He was born with a
breadth of mind that rebelled against all formal limitations
upon thought and action.
Emerson entered Harvard College in 1817, and the records
indicate that he was an average student. By no stretch of the
imagination could he be regarded as an infant prodigy. He
showed greatest aptitude for literature, but most of his college
essays were exceedingly dull. His early love of poetry was
not regarded as a valuable asset, but his ability at public speak-
ing would be useful if he decided upon the ministry as a
career. At that period his reading, though extensive, was en-
202 PatHways OF PHILOSOPHY

tirely proper and conventional. He promised to be an

eminently satisfactory member of an intensely smug orthodox
community.
Ralph’s brother, William Emerson, was the head of a
school for refined young ladies in Boston. After graduating
from Harvard Ralph accepted an appointment to teach in
this school. He endured the superficial atmosphere of these
genteel and decadent surroundings for three years, and then,
urged on by Aunt Mary, decided to strike out for himself,
seeking a life work which would reflect his own individual
taste and growing abilities.
The natural outlet was the ministry, and young Emerson
decided that he had heard the call of the spirit. He became
a minister in 1826 and carried on the duties for a time with
considerable success. It was inevitable, however, that his
broad philosophic views should come into conflict with or-
thodox belief. He finally resigned his position as minister
of the Second Unitarian Church of Boston. Poor health
may have hastened his decision, as he was threatened with
tuberculosis. He preached occasionally from various pulpits
for a number of years, and throughout his life retained much
of the stamp of a dignified clergyman.
During the earlier years of his life Emerson’s contact with
the larger world of the mind was principally through reading.
He became seriously interested in the writings of Emanuel
Swedenborg, the Swedish seer, but it does not appear that he
ever immersed himself in spiritism or psychical phenomena.
The essays of Carlyle were especially stimulating and satisfy-
ing. Later a lifetime friendship developed between these two
men.
In 1833 Emerson went to Europe, visited the places asso-
ciated with his reading, and made personal contacts with
 Tue New ENcLAND TRANCENDENTALISTS 203

Coleridge, Wordsworth, and Carlyle. There can be no doubt

that his visit to the shrines of European intellectualism
broadened his vision and deepened his understanding. He
became a citizen of the world with a perspective impossible
to those content to remain at home.
Returning from his European wanderings Emerson lived
with his mother in the old family home in Concord, and
set about establishing himself in the lecture field. He was a
born speaker, and success came to him almost immediately.
In fact, lecturing was his profession, and the essays for which
he is now best loved and remembered were compiled from
the notes of various talks which he gave through the years.
Although carefully prepared, his lectures had an inspirational
quality which deeply influenced the thought of his time. He
spoke with the quiet dignity of a religious man, and with a
quaintness of style which fascinated his listeners.
In the fall of 1835 Emerson married Lydia Jackson of
Plymouth. He took his bride to Concord and established her
in one of those comfortable old houses which contribute to
the charm of New England. Here with a fine garden, a
charming wife, and the two previously mentioned domestics,
he settled down to the calm, placid life of a small town squire.
He took a constructive part in the life of the community, and
was by nature sufficiently prudent and conservative to win
the respect and confidence of his neighbors and fellow towns-
men. Their feelings are evidenced by a number of anecdotes.
For example, when the Emerson house burned down the
community rebuilt it for him by popular subscription.
Caution is a philosophic virtue, and it is quite possible that
the citizens of Concord would have viewed Emerson in a
different light had they known the full measure of his
thought. His interest in Hinduism, for example, would cer-
204 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

tainly have sent a ripple of consternation through the com-

munity, but he was wise enough to teach Hindu philosophy
without reference to its origin or its terms. In fact, he was
able to make it sound quite Unitarian, and everyone was
content.
Emerson made a second visit to England in 1847 and gave
a number of lectures, but the busy world was not for him.
He detested crowds, confusion, and congestion. Hotels
wearied his soul, and public applause was no panacea for
these ailments. Quiet Concord was his world. ‘There he
could be with friends of his own selection, at peace with him-
self and at peace with the world. He was not snobbish, but
aloof, preferring solitude and his own thoughts.
There is little to tell about the long, calm years of Emer-
son’s life. He met every responsibility with Puritan thorough-
ness, and there lurked about him a shy sense of humor which
added greatly to the charm of his person and mitigated the
ills that flesh must bear.
When Emerson was sixty-three Harvard College bestowed
upon him the degree of LL.D. The philosopher accepted
this token of esteem with befitting modesty. Worldly honors
are of little importance to a man whose physical life have
reached its declining years. It is the habit of great institu-
tions to honor ability too late. Recognition that might have
eased earlier years of struggle is withheld until the struggle
and the need are past.
In 1872 Emerson made a third visit to the old world. This
time he went as far as Egypt, visiting the monuments of an
old civilization that had always been close to his heart. Such
a trip was arduous for a man of his years, and after his return
there was a noticeable decrease of his intellectual vigor.
 Tue New ENcLanp TRANCENDENTALISTS 205

Emerson died on the 27th of April, 1882. Although his

mental powers had been waning for some years, he remained
to the end a quiet, cheerful man, one of a sturdy stock whose
convictions were deep and strong against the vicissitudes of
fortune. He was buried in the quaint old cemetery of Sleepy
Hollow among the traditions which he loved so well. His
home has become a shrine, and his library shelves are still
laden with the books he loved. I examined his library a short
time ago and found it packed with solid philosophic scholar-
ship. In many of the books are neat notes and observations.
These should be collected and published, for they give a
wealth of insight into the character of the man and the quality
of his thinking.
Emerson’s place in the world of philosophy is quite dif-
ferent from that of the others whose teachings we have
considered. He was an interpreter rather than an originator,
choosing to dedicate his life to the dissemination of the good
which came out of the minds of the past. Although he form-
ulated no system he fashioned from the thoughts of other
men a viewpoint peculiarly his own. He felt no compulsion,
like that which motivated Kant, to integrate a universal
scheme. Nor was he like Boehme, a man of visions and mys-
tical experiences. Cast in a Unitarian mold yet unable to
subscribe to the limitations imposed by denominationalism, he
may be defined as an inclusive Christian thinker. We say
inclusive because he was able to rejoice in the beauty and
purity of the world-mind as it manifested through the reli-
gions and philosophies of all nations and of all times. To
him a universal appreciation of good was Unitarianism. He
could accept no lower standard as appropriate to the Christian
life.
206 PaTHWAYsS OF PHILOSOPHY

Emerson’s Christianity can be best described by a quota-

tion from the Christian Platonic philosopher St. Augustine:
“That which is called the Christian Religion existed among
the Ancients, and never did not exist, [sic] from the beginning
of the human race until Christ came in the flesh, at which
time the true religion which already existed began to be
called Christianity.”
Motivated by his realization that truth is everywhere pres-
ent in nature, the Sage of Concord accepted the challenge of
this larger vision and dedicated his intellectual resources to
the simple restatement of the Neoplatonic doctrine of mys-
tical participation. Modern academic philosophers approach
Emersonianism with the same mental reservations with which
they regard the Alexandrian mystics. The intellectualist is
uncomfortable in the presence of metaphysical speculation.
He has developed a Freudian complex with which to explain
the internal life of the human being. Mystics, seers, saints,
and visionaries, according to his way of thinking, are victims
of self-delusion; they are obsessed by a God fixation.
Emerson has been described as a geographical misfit be-
cause he emerged as a mystic in a materialistic world, an
idealist in a sphere of realists. Materialism has affected pro-
foundly even the religious content in the average man. The
moment we formalize a doctrine we condemn it to a condi-
tion of mortality. It is quite possible to maintain a belief in
the reality of God and his angels and still be addicted to a
basic materialism. It was the realization of this subtle point
that drove Emerson from the Unitarian ministry. He could
see that Christianity had been reduced to a system which
demanded conformity to its doctrines and tenets. A man’s
Christianity is measured in terms of this conformity, and
 Tue New ENcLAND TRANCENDENTALISTS 207

Christian living is a discipline of obedience to the dictates of

the Church rather than obedience to the dictates of the spirit.
In fairness to both viewpoints it is necessary to point out
that it requires far more wisdom than is possessed by the
average person to live well by the dictates of inner conviction
alone. How shall we determine the demands of our spiritual
natures, confused as we are by the internal babblings of emo-
tion, sentiment, and desire? How shall we divide the false
and true within ourselves? Like most intellectual idealists
Emerson believed that other men shared the integrity of con-
viction which motivated him. Unfortunately, however, the
average life is not devoted to thought and meditation, nor
does it enjoy the profits of deep reading and wide travel.
Emerson always found intimate contact with his fellow crea-
tures disappointing and disillusioning, except for those rare
instances in which he was privileged to mingle with his own
kind. It is just as natural for the idealist to overestimate
human nature as it is for the realist to underestimate the work-
ings of man’s consciousness.
All great systems of philosophy in which Emerson found
his inspiration teach one essential doctrine. The substance of
this doctrine is that the state of spiritual well-being results
from the union of human nature with its own spiritual cause.
This union is effected within the nature of the individual
by his own effort and understanding, and credal affiliations
hinder rather than help the process. God must be experienced
spiritually and not merely accepted mentally.

The Oversoul

In his essay The Oversoul Emerson reveals to us the rare

quality of his Neoplatonic vision. “We live in succession, in
208 PatHways OF PHILOSOPHY

division, in parts, in particles. Meantime within man is the

soul of the whole; the wise silence; the universal beauty to
which every part and particle is equally related; the eternal
One. And this deep power in which we exist, and whose
beatitude is all accessible to us, is not only self-sufficing and
perfect in every hour, but the act of seeing and the thing
seen, the seer and the spectacle, the subject and the object,
are one. We sce the world piece by piece, as the sun, the
moon, the animal, the tree; but the whole, of which these
are the shining parts, is the soul. Only by the vision of that
Wisdom can the horoscope of the ages be read, and by fall-
ing back on our better thoughts, by yielding to the spirit of
prophecy which is innate in every man, we can know what
it saith.”
The recognition of the unity of life is the beginning of the
mystical experience. Oneness is the supreme necessity. All
parts must be subservient to pattern and to plan. They must
depend upon a sovereign wholeness for their existence and
their continuance. This is Platonism, the realization of the
spiritual identity in all living creatures. Emerson calls the
parent unity “that Oversoul, within which every man’s partic-
ular being is contained and made one with all other...”
On this subject Emerson further reasons along classical
lines: “Al goes to show that the soul in man is not an organ,
but animates and ‘exercises all the organs; is not a function,
like the power of memory, of calculation, of comparison, but
uses these as hands and feet; is not a faculty, but a light;
is not the intellect or the will, but the master of the intellect
and the will; is the background of our being, in which they
lie—an immensity not possessed and that cannot be possessed.”
These are grand and noble thoughts for a man designed
by tradition to be a New England clergyman. They justify
 Tue New ENcLAND TRANCENDENTALISTS 209

us in assuming that he knew far more than he ever committed

to writing. Here the philosopher emerges as a legitimate
descendant of the Greek and Hindu sages whose imperishable
thoughts are impelling the race toward the fulfillment of its
own humanity.
The power of the oversoul is made manifest through the
many channels of the personality. It comes through the man,
but it is always greater than the man. Of the functions of
the oversoul Emerson gives us a magnificent definition,
“When it breathes through his intellect, it is genius; when it
breathes through his will, it is virtue; when it flows through
his affection, it is love. And the blindness of the intellect
begins when it would be something of itself. The weakness
of the will begins when the individual would be something
of himself. All reform aims in some one particular to let
the soul have its way through us; in other words, to engage
us to obey.” | |
The ancient Greeks believed the world soul to be the body
of a blessed god in whom truly we live and move and have
our being. This god inhabits a middle distance between
spirit and matter and is revealed through the orders of crea-
tion. The material creation is not this soul, but bears witness
to its power. To look upon nature is to behold the workings
of the oversoul, for the unity of the world is the symbol of
the unity that is behind the world.
The entire concept of the Messianic dispensation is
grounded in the philosophy of the oversoul. The blessed
God takes upon himself the illusion of the material sphere.
The universal unity dies in matter and is reborn through
mind. This is the myth of the dying god, the martyr spirit
eternally sacrificing itself. The oversoul is the ever-coming
spirit released through the ever-becoming of man.
210 PaTHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

Emerson distinguishes clearly between inspiration derived

from the soul and that which arises from external stimuli.
There are two kinds of philosophes, those who “speak from
within or from experience, as parties and possessors of the
fact,’ and those who “speak from without as spectators
merely, or perhaps as aquainted with the fact on the evidence
of third persons.” This distinction which Emerson points
out is the real difference between classical and modern think-
ing. The sacred disciplines of the ancients were designed to
stimulate the growth of consciousness through the inward
experience of truth. The emphasis was upon the appercep-
tion of the working of God within the self. Modern intel-
lectuals have an entirely different concept. To them philos-
ophy is a mental exercise. The mind may be converted by
reason, argument, logic, or rhetoric, but there is no quicken-
ing of the spirit, no sense of unity with any larger self. The
drabness and wordiness of contemporary intellectuals result
from the utter lack of idealism or inspiration.
The law of compensation should never be confused with
the popular concept of retribution. The Hindu term karma
implies the impersonal working of the principle of cause and
effect. After attending a sermon in which the clergyman
assumed that injustice was inevitable in the material world,
and that only the last judgement could set things right,
Emerson was confirmed in his resolution to write an essay
on compensation.
In nature, moderation is the secret of survival. All ex-
tremes destroy themselves by the unbalance intrinsic in ex-
tremes. All excess results in deficiency; all deficiency leads
to excess. Poverty is a deficiency. Wealth is an excess, and
both are burdened by the absence of moderation. Govern-
ments that are cruel are overthrown. Laws that are unfair
 THe New ENcLANp TRANCENDENTALISTS 211

impel reforms. We gain by losing, and lose by gaining. If

we direct our attention to one subject we must abandon other
interests and thus distort our characters. The penalty of
achievement is fame. The penalty of failure is ignominy.
The price of intemperance is pain, and the price of possession
is loss. In life we achieve by selecting, and we pay for our
selection by the absence of the qualities or things not selected.
If we make music our life we may pine for art; if we select
business as our career we languish for want of philosophy.
When we accept a gift we usually inherit the giver, and in
the end pay most for that which cost us nothing.
Opinions are a heavy burden upon the intellect. Every
attitude has its compensation. We dislike; therefore we are
disliked. We suspect; therefore we are suspected. We ex-
ploit; therefore we are exploited. Inordinate attachments
lead to unreasonable grief, and dissolute habits corrupt the
flesh. Nature has no place in her way of life for monopolies
and exceptions, and throughout creation a universal tendency
toward equalization is manifested.
Every attainment carries with it a burden of responsibility;
every advance in station requires an increase of knowledge
and skill; every privilege has its penalty; every reward its
price. According to the ancient Cabala, “Unbalanced forces
perish in the void.” This is the law. The compensatory
mechanism inherent in the creation itself cannot be denied
its perfect works. Whether we will or no we must obey, and
must accept the burden of action with the full realization of
its inevitable consequences.
Emerson differs with the theologian who said that the
good are miserable in the present life and the evil flourish
exceedingly. He reasons thus: “What did the preacher
mean... ? Was it that houses and lands, offices, wine, horses,
‘ale PatHways OF PHILOSOPHY

dress, luxury, are had by unprincipled men, while the saints

are poor and despised; and that a compensation is to be made
to these last hereafter, by giving them the like gratifications
another day—bank-stocks and doubloons, venison and cham-
pagne?... or to push it to its extreme import—‘you sin now,
we shall sin by and by; we would sin now, if we could; not
being successful we expect our revenge tomorrow.’”
Psychology recognizes the existence of an autocorrective
mechanism in the functioning processes of the human mind.
As a man who feels himself falling instinctively throws his
weight in the opposite direction, so the mind sensing that it
is falling into a complex or fixation throws its force to a con-
trary extreme in an effort to maintain its balance. The
mechanisms of escape belong in this category. The man who
overtaxes his mind is impelled to frivolous recreations to the
consternation of his associates. Mathematicians play the
violin, and violinists dabble in mathematics. Left to its own
devices, and unimpeded by the tyranny of self-will, the men-
tal, emotional, and physical states of man are constantly striv-
ing for mutual concord among themselves, and for individual
integrity in each of their several parts.
To the degree that the will tyrannizes over the personality
the harmony of the nature is corrupted, and this corruption
eventually frustrates the purposes of the will. So-called dis-
aster is usually nothing but violent compensation set up by
violent action. The causes are pleasant because we are follow-
ing the dictates of our impulses and ambitions. The con-
sequences are unpleasant because they are just payment for
the injustices we have done to ourselves and others.
The poverty of the saints is a case in point. The natural
compensation for holy living is the state of holiness. The
heart and mind directed toward the mysteries of the spirit
 Tue New ENcLAND TRANCENDENTALISTS 213

find strength and consolation in terms spiritual and mystical.

There is nothing in nature to imply that an ascetic and pious
existence is likely to result in physical opulence. Each tree
bears its own fruit; those who live to acquire material wealth
achieve their ends at the cost of their spiritual powers; those
who live to attain spiritual wealth attain their ends at the cost
of their material powers. This is not injustice, but compensa-
tion, for where a man’s heart is there will be his treasure.
Poverty is not the penalty of wisdom; it is the result of a
standard of values. That which we regard as most valuable
we will strive after, neglecting that which appears to be less
valuable.

The Law of Compensation

The idea of retribution or punishment implies a despotism

in nature by which we are punished for action. This is a
superficial viewpoint. We are not made miserable for our
sins but by our sinning. Compensation is intrinsic in action
itself, and does not arise from the pressure of any arbitrary
code set up in space by an irascible deity. In the last analysis
compensation is not based upon a divine morality; rather
human morality arises from experience grounded in the law
of compensation. The compensatory impulse is present in
every atom and molecule of the world. There is no creature
in heaven or earth strong enough or great enough to defy
this universal integrity. A man who casts himself from a
high cliff expects to perish, and a man performing any action
must expect the reaction appropriate to the causes which he
has set in motion. Our senses incline us to believe that in-
justice is everywhere present, but when enlightenment dispels
the illusions of the senses we realize that so-called injustice
214 PaTHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

is but a pageantry of effects, the causes of which are unknown

but entirely appropriate to the consequences which they have
precipitated.
The law of compensation does not necessarily imply a
principle of punishment. In each instance the end to be at-
tained is constructive and beneficial. There is no vindictive-
ness in nature; only a sovereign justice moving eternally for
the well-being of all creatures. If inordinate gain results in
loss, so conversely, loss results in gain. All misfortune leads
to a better state of fortune; all experience contributes to the
growth of wisdom and the increase of understanding. No
man is destroyed by the ills that befall him; rather he destroys
himself by misinterpreting the edicts of natural law. We are
not overcome by adversity but by the weakness in ourselves
which cannot meet adversity with a good hope. There is no
state of security toward which the human being aspires which
cannot be attained if the causes of that security are set up
within the individual himself. Compensation is not a law
to be feared, for by the right use of this principle all that is
desirable can be brought to pass.
The subject of universal law always brings the philosopher
to the problem of fate and free will. In his essays on The
Conduct of Life Emerson devotes the first section to this per-
plexing issue. “And, last of all,’ he writes, “high over
thought, in the world of morals, Fate appears as vindicator,
leveling the high, lifting the low, requiring justice in man,
and always striking soon or late, when justice is not done.”
From his words it is evident that he identifies fate with the
law of compensation. There is a fatality in the inevitable
sequence of cause and consequence. Once the individual has
devoted his mind to an enterprise, the rules governing that
enterprise become the master of the man. His hopes, ambi-
 THe New EncLANp TRANCENDENTALISTS 215

tions, and fears, involved as they are in his project, dominate

his consciousness and impel the intellect to reason its way
through the confusion of the project to success or failure. If
fate administers all the works of man, free will remains to the
end the privilege of the man himself. He may choose and
decide, agree or disagree, accept or reject, but having once
cast his lot, having once reached the point of decision, fate
takes over and administers the rest.
Emerson’s reasoning closely parallels the philosophy of
Gautama Buddha. There are two natures in man, the self,
which is ever free, and the not-self, which is forever bound.
The physical life of the human being is a fabrication of the
not-self and exists only because it is sanctified by the mortal
mind. Once this illusion is accepted as reality, the personality
is subject to its despotism. Having acknowledged the power
of the material world to limit the manifestations of con-
sciousness, the individual becomes the hopeless prisoner of his
own conceit. On the plane of the not-self the world is
supreme and the laws governing the world are absolute in
authority.
The self dwells apart, patient and alone. It abides in the
condition of the universal, and recognizes no frustration or
inhibition of its eternal state. It is immovable and free and
beyond the laws governing motion; it is unchanging and free
beyond the laws governing change; it is unlimited and free
beyond the laws which impose limitation. On the plane of
the self there is neither cause nor consequence, no antagonism
between the universal in man and the universal in space.
“The day of days,” writes Emerson, “the great day of the
feast of life, is that in which the inward eye opens to the
Unity in things, to the omnipresence of law.” This is a
simple statement of the Buddhist doctrine of release. Man
216 PatHways OF PHILOSOPHY

became master not by the conquest of the world but by the

conquest of his own not-self. Cause and effect end in perfect
realization and perfect acceptance of the universal plan and
the universal planner. Fate ceases its tyranny when conscious-
ness transmutes the concept of fatal necessity into the con-
ception of a splendid co-operation between the human being
and the laws governing his existence.

The Beautiful Necessity

Our philosopher thus summarizes his vision of the cosmic

pattern: “Why should we be afraid of nature, which is no
other than ‘philosophy, theology embodied’? Why should we
fear to be crushed by savage elements, we who are made up
of the same elements? Let us build to the Beautiful Necessity,
which makes man brave in believing that he cannot shun a
a danger that is appointed, nor incur one that is not; to the
Necessity which rudely or softly educates him to the percep-
tion that there are no contingencies; that Law rules through-
out existence, a Law which is not intelligent but intelligence,
—not personal nor impersonal,—it disdains words and passes
understanding; it dissolves persons; it vivifies natures, yet so-
licits the pure in heart to draw on all its omnipotence.”
Emerson’s opinions on wealth and private property can
best be summarized by the simple statement that man is by
constitution expensive. First nature requires that each man
should feed himself. “If happily his fathers have left him no
inheritance, he must go to work, and by making his wants
less or his gains more, he must draw himself out of that
state of pain and insult in which she forces the beggar to lie.
She gives him no rest until this is done; she starves, taunts
 Tue New ENcLAND TRANCENDENTALISTS 217

and torments him, takes away warmth, laughter, sleep, friends

and daylight, until he has fought his way to his own loaf.”
By temperament an aristocrat, Emerson, like Aristotle,
saw no particular advantage in poverty. Believing that the
philosopher, of all men, could make the best use of means,
he urged the thinker to a practical course of life. The estate
should be improved by honest and gainful occupation to the
end that the thoughtful person may have an environment
appropriate to the refinement of his taste. He sincerely be-
lieved that the struggle for economic security was part of the
discipline of the soul. We are here to learn, and one of the
most important of all the lessons is concentration.
Through the prodding of necessity the individual is forced
to develop character, to learn patience in the presence of dis-
aster, moderation in the presence of excess, gentleness in the
presence of power, and Christian charity in the presence of
a ruthless competitive system. There is no virtue in poverty
unless it arises from the renunciation of worldly goods after
success has been attained. Man is never rewarded for failure,
and there is no merit in defending inability on the grounds
of spiritual intent. We can renounce success but we cannot
renounce failure or make it more powerful by doubting the
negative.
Of course Emerson is referring to our civilization and the
way of life into which Western peoples are born. His ideal-
istic nature, seeking ever for the good in things as they are,
realized the importance of the economic challenge. We are
so temperamented that could we be happy without constant
effort there would be no progress. Cheerfully we would
settle back in a utopian indolence ending in complete demor-
alization. Our entire way of progress is motivated by the
struggle for security. Art, science, religion, industry, and
218 PatHways OF PHILOSOPHY

trade are geared to a philosophy of expansion toward survival.

By constant diligence and prudence the mind is trained in a
sense of values, and it is this very training which reveals the
greater values which lie beyond competitive ethics. We out-
grow the world by outgrowing the wordliness in ourselves.
We can escape from the limitations of our systems only by
becoming greater than those systems—never by evasion or
untrained revolt.
To outgrow means to unfold so much of self and the pur-
poses of self that environment is overcome and its facilities
adapted to the requirements of the internal spiritual convic-
tion. Emerson did not believe in a policy of protecting man
against his world, but rather in a program which preserved
the world from the evil works of man. This could come
only if the individual accepted personal responsibility and
lived in harmony with the laws of life. Man must win his
fight against internal and external limitation through the re-
lease of the talents and capacities locked within his being.
Right vision must impel to right action, and right action puts
the human state in order.
From these fragments of Emerson’s philosophy it is easy
to see why academic thinkers have little time for either the
man or his work. They are not interested in disciplines of
conduct. They think for the sake of thought, regarding phi-
losophy as an abstract means of weighing, estimating, compar-
ing, and digesting the intellectual effort of other men. They
would dissect the body of learning in search of the disease
which destroyed the wisdom of the past. Having discovered
it they immediately develop similar symptoms in themselves,
falling from one error into another and passing on a legacy
of uncertainties to their scholastic issue.
 Tue New ENcLAND TRANCENDENTALISTS 219

Transcendentalism is the way of life of the idealistic phi-

losopher. It would take noble thoughts and put them to
work, molding character and building up integrity content.
The end of mature thinking is intellectual serenity, the cour-
age to live well, and the skill to defend the dignity of the
indwelling divinity from the encroachment of doubts, fears,
and inordinate desires. Mysticism is living from within to-
ward the circumference of action. Philosophy sets up the
machinery by which inner consciousness gains complete con-
trol over condition and circumstance.
Young men starting out in life are apt to select dynamic
philosophies like those of Nietzsche and Schopenhauer. They
are more interested in the will to power than the will to
peace. It is only after actual living has mellowed ambition
and deepened the emotions that these same men, older now,
begin to appreciate the maturity of Emerson’s idealism. We
seek power in the outer world, but for peace we must search
within. When the mind becomes aware of this eternal truth
idealistic philosophy becomes for each of us the “Beautiful
Necessity.”
 8
THE NEOPLATONIC RESTORATION

A REvIEW

pee transcendent beauty of the Platonic philosophy has

won the universal admiration of mankind. The writings
of Plato and the more illustrious of his followers have been
translated into all the principal languages of the world, and
have influenced the intellectual, cultural, and ethical standards
of the entire race.
Though the ethical integrity of the Platonic viewpoint has
never been seriously questioned, the Aristotelians, in partic-
ular, have pointed out what they call deficiency of method in
the doctrines of the great master. By deficiency of method
these critics imply that while Platonism visualizes the ideal
state, it fails utterly to provide a mechanism for the achieve-
ment of that state. Certain reformations are advanced as
necessary. The advantages to be attained by these changes
are clearly pointed out, but the means by which the present
state of human nature may be adapted to these reformations
is not given or even implied. Because of this apparent
weakness in the basic texts, Platonism has been stigmatized
as impractical, a noble vagary evidently true but obviously
impossible of application.

220
 Tue Neopiatonic REsToRATION aA

The deficiency of method is an essential point of difference

between a philosophy and a religion. The primary point of
philosophy is to expound reasonable facts and to reveal these
facts intellectually; that is, so that they are understandable
and acceptable to the intellect. The moment a machinery is
set up with an elaborate structure of moral and ethical recom-
mendations, philosophy verges toward religion, and even
theology.
We can see an outstanding example of this mingling of
conflicting premises in the story of Indian Buddhism. Gau-
tama Buddha was a philosopher, and from the evidence of the
earliest available records of his teachings, an agnostic. He
refused to discuss the nature of God, agreeing with the So-
cratic viewpoint that all efforts to reduce the incomprehensible
to the limitations of human thinking were both unreasonable
and unprofitable. Yet Buddhism emerges as the great reli-
gion of Asia. Around its simple premises has been built
up an elaborate structure of religious symbolism, mystical
speculation, ritualism, and sacerdotalism in general.
The rise of Platonism was blocked by the advent of the
Christian faith. A strong religious principle emerged from
the Near East and North Africa, and as it increased the pagan
philosophies were correspondingly submerged. Had a new
faith not arisen it is quite probable that Platonism and Neo-
platonism would have become the religion of the West. As
it is, much of the best of the Platonic teaching was incorpo-
rated into the structure of the Church, as we have already
noted.
The combination of pagan purpose and Christian method
deserves critical analysis; in fact, the great dilemma of the
Church has been the problem of method. The brotherhood
of man, for example, is a noble concept held equally by both
222 PaTHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

philosophy and religion, yet neither of these institutions has

been able to perfect its conviction in terms of method.
Even the untutored multitudes are inclined to view a frater-
nity of human purpose as desirable, but neither the individual
nor the collective group has been able to demonstrate the
cherished belief that human beings should be united in the
essentials of living. In spite of our every resolution, co-oper-
ation verges inevitably toward corporation.

The Search for Security

If it is held against Platonism that it is devoid of method,

it may be held against Aristotelianism that although abound-
ing in method it has never been able to apply its machinery
successfully in the sphere of material ambition. The human
mind in its search for security and material success refuses to
limit its opportunities or its philosophy of opportunism by
any ethical restraints upon freedom of action.
After pondering the Platonic and Neoplatonic institutes
for a number of years, it seems to me that the supreme proof
of Plato’s genius is that he refrained from imposing the limi-
tations of method upon the universality of his convictions.
It is not because his mind was deficient in this respect; rather,
he realized that the formality of method defeats its own ends
by obscuring all ends with the burden of means. We know
that in religion means have become ends, and that in addic-
tion to means we find a false security. It is the emphasis
upon means which has brought about what the Platonists
might have called the privation of ends, or as the sociologists
might describe as the ends of privation.
When Aristotle, contemplating the great ideals of his
master, became aware of the qualitative interval between the
 THE Neropiatonic: RESTORATION: 223

divine above and the. human. below, he attempted.to. bridge...

this lacuna with. categories of methods. Unfortunately, all
he could.do was build another Tower.of Babel. Instead of
facilitating the course of idealism, he imprisoned universals
in bodies fashioned of mathematical intellectualism. 7
Gentle. Plato. was the wiser man. He knew from:his own
experience that method. belongs to time and. place, but truth
is timeless.and beyond the limitation. of place... Man must
eternally. seek for that.which is eternal, but method changes
with the seasons. The pattern. that. serves. one generation is.
useless in another... An ethical machinery may inspire for a
certain time, and, then. the machinery -becomes. obsolete... If
the abstract. ideals. have come-to be identified with any sys-
tem or method they. perish, when. that method fails... Method
is a kind of body, and ideals are. the. spirit which :inhabits
that body. It is fatal to progress to regard the body as iden-
tical with its indwelling spirit. All bodies are corruptible,
but spirits are incorruptible. Plato sought to preserve the im-
mortality of truth by refusing to permit its incarnation within
a machinery. of utility.
Aristotle. desired to fashion again the Homeric golden
chain which bound the material world to the throne of Olym-
pian Zeus. He would bind God and nature with eternal
bonds. ,The categories are the links of his golden chain.
They achieve everything except their final purpose, which is
the creation from nature of the god-man, the philosopher-king.
The quiet tolerance of Plato, his gentle patience with Aris-
totle’s spiritual ambitions, were typical of the characters of
the two men. Plato was patient because patience is the only
way. Growth cannot be forced. We can contribute to pro-
gress, but we can never insist successfully that our contribu-
tions be accepted. We can point out the end to be attained,
224 Patuways OF PHILOSOPHY

but we must also understand that each human being must

attain this end in his own way, through his own experience
and his own necessity in his own time and in his own place.
Plato had no dispute with Aristotle, for it was Aristotle
himself who was the moving spirit in his own disputations.
Plato knew that when his disciple argued with others it was
because in reality the young man was arguing with himself.
We are eternally seeking the conversion of others as a means
of achieving or sustaining the conversion of ourselves. Aris-
totle was a truth seeker, and Plato realized that this brilliant
intellect was attaining the very end which the master desired.
Aristotle had accepted the challenge of the absence of method,
which was exactly what Plato wanted him to do and what
Platonism has invited all thoughtful persons to attempt since
the first presentation of the doctrine.
Plato appears to have learned from his own master,
Socrates, that in the processes of thinking the most desirable
end is that the student or disciple shall learn to think for
himself. He must work out his own form, and if in this
procedure he feels, as Aristotle did, that he is correcting a
grave fault in his master’s teachings, so much the better. It
is better to find fault and think than it is to agree perfectly
and accept the thoughts of others.
The impact of Plato upon Aristotle proves the efficacy of
the Platonic method. Aristotle became a leader and not a
follower. He created his own world by releasing the qualities
of his own mind. Had Plato forced upon him a complete
machinery of method, Aristotle’s name would not have sur-
vived.
Plato was able to accomplish his purpose because he was
too advanced as a philosopher to be limited by the implica-
tions of his own ego. It is comforting to small minds to have
 Tue Neor.atonic RESTORATION 225

followers, and to force others into agreement with the pat-

terns which the egotist himself has revealed to a wondering
and admiring world. It requires a higher measure of great-
ness to refrain from dominating the intellectual processes of
others. To be quiet while they disagree, and to inwardly
rejoice because this disagreement represents sincere effort to
think for oneself, is the better part of wisdom. It is said that
Plato had a peculiarly mild, almost vacant expression in
those moments when his doctrines were being assailed by
some enthusiastic intellectual. This mask was truly Socratic.
Plato would listen like some kindly grandfather, never re-
proving nor reproaching, and permitting his adversary to
feel that the master was utterly overwhelmed at the show of
erudition. It is probable that some of the disciples were a
little disappointed that the master did not immediately alter
the whole fabric of his philosophy in favor of their improve-
ments, but Plato kept on, listening, nodding, beaming, and
teaching exactly as he had taught before. |
Universal Being exists as both time and eternity. Being,
in terms of time, is a motion of life from things previous to
things subsequent. This motion is visible to us through the
growth and unfoldment of forms. Forms exist in time and
in place, and are measured in terms of these dimensions.
That part of Universal Being which exists beyond the limi-
tation of time may be said to subsist by virtue of its own
existence without dependence upon any antecedent cause be-
yond itself. Eternity generates time, but is itself timeless. It
generates motion, but is itself motionless. It is the apex of
causes, yet is without cause. It is the source of division, yet
is undivided. Eternity is of the nature of ends which are
indivisible because they cannot be defined. For example,
through the practice of the virtues we may attain the sub-
226 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY .

stance of the virtuous. Virtues may be defined and distin-

guished according to time and place, but the substance of
the virtuous cannot be defined, nor can the intellect set up
division within the measure of this term. Or again, beauty
is subject to definition according to taste, cultivation, and cir-
cumstance, but the beautiful is not to be distinguished in its
absolute substance.
Applying these abstract principles to the Platonic teaching
it becomes obvious why Plato emphasized ends rather than
means. There is a subtle point here. The motion of means
is inevitably toward ends, a motion of dissimilars toward
identity. In terms of philosophy, wisdom is an end, and all
learning is a means to that end. We may define learning in
terms of arts and sciences, crafts and trades, professions and
vocations; we may select from these such as are suitable to
our dispositions, and through diligent application progress our
natures toward the state of wisdom. We all aspire to the
attainment of wisdom, although the most audacious mortals
would hesitate to attempt a definition of wisdom. Yet un-
defined and beyond even intellectual dimensions, wisdom is
regarded universally as desirable above all the treasures of
the earth. There is no uniformity of opinion regarding
means or method, each department of learning claiming prec-
edence and all departments subject to renovation according
to time and place.
Means are dominated by the concept of the known, but
ends are composed of the known plus the unknown. The
mind can outgrow the means, but cannot outgrow the end,
for it contains both that which is attained and that which
is attainable. Thus growth is forever in conflict with means
but in concord with ends.
 Tue NeEopiaTonic RESTORATION 227

Aristotle, by attempting to systematize means, sought to

pave a road to ends. He took into account a variety of natural
laws but appears to have overlooked one cardinal tenet of
universal procedure—the law of change. In nature nothing
is changeless but change. The alchemical minglings of time
and place engender an endless variety of mutable appearances.
Ever-moving patterns acting upon each other challenge the
existence of each creature that inhabits the natural diffusion.
Man himself consists of two natures. Spiritually he is a
part of the universe and partakes of eternity, thus sharing in
the permanence of ends. Materially he partakes of time and
place, and thus participates in the impermanence of means.
From this circumstance there arises a conflict within himself.
As material evolution is measured by the growth and refine-
ment of the personality, spiritual evolution is measured by
the victoryof ends over means as an experience of conscious-
‘ness. This was the peculiar doctrine of the Neoplatonists.
“The arts and sciences can be mastered, but wisdom cannot be
mastered. Knowledge can be possessed, but truth cannot be
-possessed; -Beauty canbe captured by the artist, but the beau-
tiful is forever free. -Thus the individual can possess means,
-but ends -possess the individual.

~“Plato’s Political Philosophy “ype

When Plato, through the lips of Socrates, describes the

government of the philosophic elect he reveals the end of
“government. He tells us that no particular system, by virtue
~ of being a system, will ever attain this end. He emphasizes
~ the corruptions common to ‘all systems Be which the desirable
end is frustrated.
228 Paruways oF PHILOSOPHY

Monarchy degenerates into tyranny, oligarchy degenerate

into bureaucracy, and democracy falls into chaos. All systerr
fail if abused. All can succeed if administered by the wis
To be wise, therefore, is the only remedy for the numerot
diseases of ignorance, and nothing is to be gained by th
substitution of one inadequacy for another. Why then set u
a new machinery for the same corruption to inherit? Wh
substitute words for ideas, names for facts, and political partic
for the laws of government? Systems have no real substanc
in themselves. They are ensouled by their partisans, vitalize
and devitalized by their adherents. Ignorance is foreve
changing its name, but by any name it is still ignorance.
Plato retired from active participation in Athenian politic
because he realized that the governmental machinery of th
city made impossible the just administration of the laws. Y
this machinery had been set up by able men devoted to th
common good and vigorously opposed to corruption. Wher
in, then, lay the fault? The answer was obvious; self-seekin
politicians had found a way to outwit the spirit of good law
and at the same time preserve the letter and their own safety.
In this dilemma upright citizens rose up crying out fe
reform. If they succeeded in overthrowing the incumber
party, those cast down rose up again demanding that th
reformers be reformed. Thus the wheel of fortune turt
upon the spindle of necessity, and nothing appears consister
but corruption and high taxes.
All men desired better government but few could agree :
to what constituted better government. Each had a metho
but these methods had little in common save confusion. A
men desired perfection but were in violent conflict as to tk
definition of perfection. Private interest and public good we
irreconcilable.
 Tue NeEoriatTonic RESTORATION 229

In religion the same dilemma prevailed. All men agreed

on the existence of a supreme principle appropriately termed
God, but men could not agree upon any definition of Deity,
nor could they find common ground in private or public
worship. Each frequented a shrine or sanctuary of his own
selection, and worshiped the Supreme One with a variety of
rituals and ceremonies. Here again there was unity in ends,
but no unity in methods. In fact, disunity of methods re-
sulted in open conflict and recurrent cycles of cruelty and
oppression in the name of an all-loving God.
Even in Plato’s time there was no lack of method in re-
ligion. The temples were the custodians of esoteric sciences
intended to cultivate or perfect the spiritual content in human
nature. The priests of these temples were men of noble char-
acter and high philosophic attainment. But even these sub-
lime institutions were unable to prevent internal strife among
the states of Greece, or wars with neighboring countries. It
was not lack of method that prevented the brotherhood of
man; it was the inability of the human being to escape from
the practice of means to the realization of ends. This inade-
quacy was in man himself and not in his institutions, and
against this inadequacy the optimism of method was insufhi-
cient.
In the two thousand years that have passed since the de-
cline of the classical schools the situation has remained com-
paratively unchanged. The modern world still clings tena-
ciously to the significance of method. We still believe that
we can set up a machinery that will result in the preserva-
tion and perfection of the race. For this enthusiastic convic-
tion we are certainly indebted to Aristotle. He is an out-
standing example of the disastrous results of clinging to a
239 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

fixed standard in a moving universe. There are occasions

when we are false to the future if we cling to the past.
We must be careful, however, not to dogmatize even
upon a generality of this kind. We must not think of the past
in terms of fixation. Plato belongs to the past in time, but to
the future in the eternity of his vision. By building no walls,
by placing no limitation upon mental or physical progress,
Plato has held the respect of mankind by releasing man from
any bondage to doctrine or opinion. That which is without
limitation is without date, but that which is limited is in-
evitably dated.
The Platonic viewpoint deserves the admiration of a sorely
troubled world because it is the only philosophy of the West
that is actually solutional. It cannot be outgrown, because its
proportions and dimensions were never fixed. There can
never be a discovery in the world of science, a vision in the
world of art, or a conviction in the world of religion, that
is not Platonic. Plato’s unknown quantity in the substance of
being is an infinite capacity into which human endeavor can
pour the works of its genius to the end of time. Discovery
only reveals more of that which eternally is. This was the
greatness of the man, and of that other man who lived in
Asia three hundred years earlier, Gautama Buddha. Both of
these great philosophers built their systems upon a-conception
_of infinite progress. Their systems can be denied or ignored,
but they can never be disproved or outgrown. Both allowed
for infinite growth in their scheme of things, and neither
suspended his doctrine from a machinery that could be dis-
credited.
Because Platonism is without those formal boundaries
which we have come to demand as essential to the structure
of belief, we regard his teachings as vague and difficult of
 Tue Neopiatonic REsTORATION 231

comprehension. After all, truth and wisdom, virtue and

beauty, love and integrity, are all words to express ideas not
exactly concrete. We are forever creating definitions for
these words, identifying the idea with the definition for a
time, and ultimately rejecting the definition as unworthy of
the idea. If Plato is vague it is because the infinite itself is
beyond definition and delineation.
The cause of the dilemma is obvious, but the remedy is
extremely difficult of attainment. Man lives in a finite world
and his faculties are limited to that sensory sphere of which
his bodies are a part. How can the finite measure the In-
finite:? How can we understand that which is totally beyond
our experience, and how can we experience that which is
beyyond the range of our perceptions? This line of reasoning
seems to end against a blank wall. To know more than we
do know we must become greater than we are now. To be
greater than we are now we must know more than we know
now. Is it any wonder, then, that so many modern philos-
ophers are addicted to extreme pessimism ?
It remained for the Neoplatonists of Alexandria to project
the metaphysical speculations of Plato to their reasonable con-
clusions. This projection resulted inthe development of a
new department. within the compound. structure of philos-
ophy. This new department was theurgy, a union of philos-
ophy and mysticism. We -can never know to what degree
Plato attained this union, for his mystical writings have not
survived. Certainly the projection of philosophy toward
theurgy was entirely reasonable and consistent with the whole
structure of the Orphic theology.
- There was an oriental precedent for the setting up of
‘theurgy_ as a| method’ to break the circle ofc:cause and conse-
232 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

cipline of realization by which the human being could fre

himself from the wheel of the law. Realization was ths
escape toward the self; a scientific organization of the power:
of consciousness for the purpose of releasing the interna
eternity of man from bondage to the limitations of time anc
place. In simple terms, it was the restatement as consciou
experience of reality over illusion. The theurgy of Neo
platonism was motivated by the same internal requirements
and sought to accomplish identical results.
Spiritual evolution required that the circle of life b
broken without violating the cyclic motion inherent in th
laws of life. To change the circle into an ascending cycle i
was necessary to introduce the concept of the spiral, an ascend
ing circle without limitation. A spiral motion might appea
to bring about an infinite repetition of circumstances or oc
currences. Yet in spite of similarity there could be no iden
tity. Repetition occurred upon an ascending scale, each ap
parent recurrence differing in quality from that which ha
preceded it. The circumstance might be altered by time o
place in terms of externals, or by state or condition in term
of internals. Thus a man may repeat the same action da
after day, but each repetition will be marked by a graduall
ascending scale of proficiency or skill gained from practic«
More than this, the man himself grows, and though he r
peats the action he himself increases from day to day so thz
neither the action nor the person acting is precisely the sam
on any two occasions.
Theurgy unfolds the mystery of qualitative interval an
seeks to set up a method for bridging the chasm of qualit
This it accomplishes by gradually releasing universal cor
sciousness through the unfolding faculties and functions «
 Tue Neop.aTonic REsToRATION 233

the human being. This science of approaching universals is

the master science of the Ancient Mysteries.
If we apply Plato’s three categories of the nature of being
to the subject of intellect, we arrive at some interesting con-
clusions. Plato divided all living creatures into three orders:
the unmoved, the self-moved, and the moved. The unmoved
is spirit, the self-moving is intellect, and the moved is form
or body.
In the sphere of mind the unmoved is wisdom, the self-
moving is science or knowledge, and the moved is opinion.
Therefore the ascent from opinion to science may be defined
as the establishment of a self-moving intellect. By this means
the individual accomplishes the triumph of the personal self
over circumstances. This may be further defined as orienta-
tion; the discovery of the place of the personal self in the
theater of conditions.

From Science to Wisdom

The end of science is thus revealed to consist not in the

sciences but in the self. The individual does not live to ad-
vance learning; he learns to advance living. Science is not
an end but a means; the natural defense against the dangers
of opinion. It is not correct to say that man possesses opinions,
for in the sphere of opinion, it is opinions that obsess man.
In this state the human being is the victim of externals; not
only his own opinions which are external to the self, but
others opinions, which are external to the body. By the attain-
ment of self-motion (science) the individual becomes master
of opinion by subjecting it to the disciplines of the reason.
Science is in this instance a kind of sieve. The mathematical
sieve of Eratosthenes, invented about 230 B. C., is an appro-
 234 PatHways or PHILOSOPHY

priate example. By means of this device composite and in-

composite odd numbers could be sifted from the sequence of
numbers. By science, perfect, superabundant, and deficient
fact may be sifted fom the sequence of opinion.
The ascent from science to wisdom is, according to this
system of analogy, voluntary motion of the self-moving to-
ward the substance of the unmoved. It is the ascent of the
mind from facts of the intellect to certainties of the conscious-
ness. Let us consider the nature of fact as it applies to the
present problem. Fact is a thing demonstrably and un-
deniably true. It is a fact that rain falls, that plants grow,
that creatures exist and that darkness follows light in the
phenomenon of day and night. These obvious truths may
be defined in the sieve of learning as deficient fact. The defi-
ciency results from the static nature of this kind of fact. Most
knowledge as we know it today consists of deficient fact. The
deficiency is proved by the circumstance that this kind of
fact can be amassed without changing the state of man. He
may possess these facts and still remain ignorant concerning
his own nature, the reason for his existence, and the relation-
ship between himself and these facts. Such facts are sterile
~ truths, undeniable but insufficient.
Superabundant fact is the fact itself surrounded by an
aura of implications. These implications are reasonable ex-
tensions of the. fact. itself toward utility. If the extension of
the fact is downward, the result is the application of prin-
ciplestothe various machineries set up in material life. This
extension results in the application of principles (facts) to the
requirements of industry, economics, and human security in
_ general. '
_ If the extension of the factisupward, it stimulates certain
inventiveness and originality of the reason by which the secu-
 Tue Neoptatonic RESTORATION 235

ity of the internal self is achieved. The upward extension of

superabundant or dynamic fact toward union with conscious-
ness is the province of philosophy. The seventh and highest
branch of philosophy is theurgy, which is the esoteric art of
binding superabundant fact to its own cause, perfect fact, or
being.
Perfect fact is the unmoved mover of the mind. It is un-
moved because it cannot depart from the nature of itself.
It is the mover because it draws all intellect to itself by divine
fascination. The search for perfect fact is the proper exercise
of the intellect. The quest for perfect fact becomes what the
Greeks called a frenzy of the spirit. The intellectual appetite
cannot be satisfied untilitbeholds and receives unto itself the
light of Universal Truth. This is the passion of the soul for
union with its own substance. The substance itself is im-
movable, and all. motion takes place within beings deficient
of perfect fact and resolutely determined to make the journey
to Self.
The recognition of superabundant fact brings with it the
realization of the superiority of that which exists by the na-
ture of being, over that which exists by the nature of appear-
ance. The center of reality is shifted from the focus of form
to the focus of principles behind form. The invisible, accord-
ing to the substance of principle, takes precedence over the
visible which subsists according to the nature of bodies.
The sphere of science (superabundant fact) is diyided into
an upper and lower hemisphere. The lower, or dark hemi-
sphere, is fact superabundant in terms of exactitude. This is
exactitude as contrasted to opinion, and by this contrast proved
to be superior. Exactitude implies thoroughness but not neces-
sarily extension upward to imponderables. The lower hemi-
sphere of science is properly termed materialistic, for it is the
236 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

mover of things inferior to itself, giving the mind dominion

over bodies but not dominion over the principles resident in
bodies.
The upper hemisphere of science is properly defined as
idealistic, for it impels the intellect toward the search for
cause. All cause is by nature both real and invisible, and it
cannot be approached until the mind is able to accept the
reality of things invisible and the power of the invisible as
governor of all visible manifestations. Thus by its own na-
ture the upper hemisphere of science contains the ingredients
of a philosophic viewpoint, and gently urges the intellect to
search for those secret causes which the ancients referred to
as the gods of several orders.
The search for perfect fact can only be accomplished by
the unfoldment of internal capacities. To perceive that which
is beyond matter requires faculties beyond the material.
Awareness is necessary to the condition of being aware. The
refinement of faculty results in the extension of the powers
of the faculties in the sphere of intangibles. Mental evolution
is the unfoldment of the faculties of consciousness toward the
apprehension or apperception of consciousness per se; it is as
though we increased in truthfulness until we shared in the
substance of truth itself.
All human growth results from discipline. Opinions
themselves discipline the opinionated. This may be defined
as growth by adversity. The consequences of opinionism be-
come unendurable, and the intellect seeks to escape from the
net of circumstances by the use of mental images. Once the
mind comes into control it must be trained to become the
leader of the personality. This is the purpose of education.
All education converges to the center of science, which seeks
 Tue NeEop.tatonic RESTORATION 237

to equip the mind for dominion over body. The end of the
process is the victory of purpose over accident.
As the mind requires a long process of direction and con-
trol before it is sufficient to the requirements of personality,
it requires further discipline before it is capable of sustaining
the philosophic over-life. The ascent from science to philos-
ophy is only possible to those who accept the disciplines of
philosophy and make these disciplines their way of living.
In the modern world philosophy has come to be regarded
as a superabundant intellectualism. The mind has attempted
to impose its own patterns upon all of nature, visible and in-
visible. Materialistic philosophy is little better than a cautious
step from the scientific center. There is little courage in the
philosophic convictions of this century, and still less inclina-
tion to regard philosophy as a way of life and not merely
an intellectual exercise.
It is difficult to define the power or faculty of realization
as it manifests in man. Certainly it is apperceptive estima-
tion; it is a knowledge of things from and within themselves.
Possibly the best term is participation. In life the individual
can be either an observer or a participant. As an observer
he is apart from the substance of the thing observed. He is
a beholder of life, capable of analyzing and classifying things
seen but having no part in things known. The participant
has an entirely different point of view. He experiences cir-
cumstance as a part of himself; he shares in the experience
and feels the flow of it through his own consciousness.
In the philosophic world the materialistic thinker remains
an observer of the universal plan. He is untouched by the
impact of personal experience. The idealistic philosopher
aspires to a participation in the consciousness which moves
the worlds and manifests through the intricate pattern of uni-
238: -§ee PatHways.oF PHILOSOPHY

versal laws.’ The. conviction. that. it is possible for the human

being to so participate-in the substance of the divine plan is
properly. termed mysticism. The technique. by which. the
human personality may be disciplined for such participation
was called by the Neoplatonists the theurgic art.
There is no actual proof that Plato himself defined a
theurgic discipline, but it certainly originated from a contem-
plation of his conception of universals as they apply to the
state of mankind. Without theurgy philosophy ends in a
hypocritical intellectual materialism. There is no escape for
the mind excépt upward and inward toward the fountain of
the self.
The materialist regards evolution as a gradual process re-
quiring vast periods of time, and subject to innumerable nat-
ural accidents. There is no promise of perfection for any
species or kind. Survival is a matter of circumstances. If
survival is accomplished it will be accompanied by a growth
of the potentials within the surviving form. But the earth
beneath our feet is a graveyard of extinct forms which lost
the struggle for survival. The evolution of forms is an in-
sufficient doctrine unless consideration is given to the life
principles which ensoul forms, and which are the true sources
of the growth apparent in formal structures.
The psychosomatic theory of medicine has discovered the
existence of a person within the body. As yet this person is
regarded as a kind of overtone; a complex of the body itself,
incapable of independent survival. But a wedge has been
driven into what has been regarded as an. indissolvable com-
pound. Time will certainly bring about a recognition of the
reality of the internal man, and prove that the man is the
reality and the body is the extension.
 Tue Neopiatonic ResTroraTION 239

The descent of the Platonic theology has resulted in an

unbroken line of idealistic philosophers, all of whom have
held, to some degree, the reality of Divine Being and Divine
Laws operating behind and through the veil of matter. The
spiritual is the real, and the material is the extension of that
reality from itself toward its own circumference. This cir-
cumference is called the privation because in it the universal
reality reaches its ultimate degree of obscuration. Ignorance,
for example, is not a substance nor a principle; it is the priva-
tion of wisdom. By the same analogy darkness is the priva-
tion of light; error is the privation of truth; death is the
privation of life; and to a degree, man is the privation of God.
Boehme describes privation as hunger, an insatiable ap-
petite demanding nutrition. Thus man hungers for God, and
the whole machinery of his purpose is directed toward the
satisfaction of his appetite. The mystic is one who hungers
after righteousness, and his soul can never find rest until it
experiences the presence of the Divine Power. False appe-
tites may obscure temporarily the true purpose for living, but
stress and adversity restore the normal appetite and press the
personality onward to the attainment of that which is most
necessary.
Nearly all of the Platonic philosophers recognize mathe-
matics as the most perfect of the sciences. By meditating
upon the arithmetical progression of numbers the conscious-
ness becomes aware of the orderly extension of the divine
nature throughout the worlds. Mathematics bestows an in-
ternal certainty about the plan or pattern of existence. Prop-
erly understood, the science of numbers overcomes the con-
cept of accident. The human being finds himself in a frame-
work of orderly procedure. He perceives the world to be
240 PatHways OF PHILOSOPHY

the extension of the Divine Consciousness in terms of perfect

reason, perfect wisdom, and perfect love.
Having realized that the universe is in order, man is forced
to the natural conclusion that if disorder exists it is in him-
self and not in the world. This realization is sufficient to in-
dicate the correct remedy for the prevailing uncertainties.
The rise of the Christian Church resulted in a dramatic
conflict of ideologies. Pagan philosophy was built upon a
broad and comparatively tolerant foundation. The ancients
knew very little about the idea of heresy. Beliefs were ex-
amined according to content rather than according to form.
Men were respected for the quality of their ideas and not for
their allegiance to particular schools or sects. Dogmas and
doctrines were accepted as means rather than ends, and there
was a universal tolerance toward method so long as method
accomplished meritorious results.
The early Christian Church threw most of its weight upon
means and demanded uniformity of technique as well as iden-
tity of purpose. By the glorification of means, ends were
obscured, and religion became identified with the theological
institutes through which it manifested. With theology as a
primary concern, religion was relegated to second place in
the scale of ecclesiastical values. The sanctification of method
is the vital ingredient in the compound of dogma.

Hypatia of Alexandria

No consideration of the conflict between Neoplatonism

and the early Christian Church could be complete without
reference to the splendid character of Hypatia of Alexandria.
In her personality we have an outstanding instance of the
tragedy arising from the impact of theology upon a liberal
 Tue NeEopiatonic REstorATION 241

philosophical idealism—the last surviving institution of clas-

sical pagan intellectualism. Hypatia was the daughter of
Theon, the mathematician whose learning had gained for
him a distinguished position of leadership in the Alexandrian
school. It should be noted that the term mathematician in-
ferred much more than skill in arithmetic. Theon, and others
of similar attainment, were Platonists developing abstract
idealistic convictions according to orderly procedures revealed
through the study of geometry and mathematics.
Theon wrote extensive and learned commentaries on
Euclid and Ptolemy, and it is believed that his talented
daughter assisted him in a number of his writings. Hypatia
lectured on astronomy, physics, and mathematics, and ac-
cording to Suidas prepared an elaborate gloss on the Arith-
metica of Diophantus.
After the death of Theon, Hypatia attained his chair in
the school and rose to be the principal exponent of Neoplaton-
ism in Egypt. Her achievements were the more remarkable
when we realize that although many women of classical an-
tiquity were brilliantly educated, few reached public promi-
nence. So profound was her intellect and so outstanding her
eloquence that she attracted a brilliant group of disciples, in-
cluding Synesius, who later became a ‘nominal’ Christian and
was elected Bishop of Ptolemais.
Synesius accepted the dignity and responsibility of leader-
ship in the North African Church only after the Fathers had
agreed to certain stipulations which this conscientious disciple
of Neoplatonic discipline demanded. First, his private addic-
tion to Greek metaphysical speculation must be respected, and
second, he should be permitted to retain his wife with whom
he had lived happily the greater part of his life. The Church
242 PatHways OF PHILOSOPHY

permitted Synesius to remain a pagan in his inward parts,

so the conversion was a marked success.
Even after his appointment as bishop Synesius frequently
consulted Hypatia on scientific problems. He required her
assistance in the construction of an astrolabe and a hydroscope;
the former a device for determining the ascension of stars,
indispensable to navigation at that time, and the latter a clock
motivated by water. It never occurred to Synesius that the
religion which a man professed could interfere with the fur-
therance of his intellectual pursuits, and he could not conceive
of intellectuals prejudiced by religious convictions. For him
learning was where he found it.
Hypatia was born in Alexandria about A. D. 370, and had
the misfortune to live in the midst of the conflict raging
throughout North Africa and the Near East between the clas-
sical pagan schools and the rising power of the early Christian
Church. Neither the beauty and modesty of her person, nor
the depth of her scholarship, could protect her from the
fanaticism of the times. An infuriated mob of Christian con-
verts incited by Peter the Reader, a fanatical and unlearned
man, dragged her from her chariot, forced her into the
Caesareum which was then a Christian Church, stripped her
clothes from her body and hacked her to death with oyster
shells. The excuse given was that she enjoyed the protection
of Orestes, the prefect of Alexandria, who was a pagan and a
thorn in the flesh of Cyril, surnamed The Good, the Christian
patriarch. Cyril also attacked the Jewish synagogues with
forces of armed men, and it was his militant intolerance
which brought him into conflict with Orestes, who desired to
maintain a tolerant attitude in matters of personal belief.
Hypatia has survived in the hagiology of the Roman Catholic
Church in the person of St. Catherine of Alexandria.
 Tue Neopratonic Restoration 243

‘Deep issues were involved in the martyrdom of Hypatia.

The early Church was developing a fantastic antipathy for
learning and the intellectual individualism which lcarning
bestowed. Sciences such as astronomy, geography, chemistry,
and even medicine were denounced as madness or tolerated
only because the Church was not strong enough to destroy
them. Books and manuscripts were destroyed on every hand,
and the mere possession of the mathematical text was sufh-
cient to condemn a family to death. In Rome, Gregory the
Great expelled all mathematicians from the Holy City, and
burned the Palatine Library which had been founded by
Augustus Caesar. Mathematics in particular was the victim of
theological abuse, and Hypatia was a martyr to the multiplica-
tion table. She died in March A. D. 415 and her school
perished for lack of her guiding spirit.
In our day when religion has come to be regarded as an
emotional experience in the life of the human being, and
when faith is belief in the substance of things unseen, un-
known, and unproved, it is difficult to visualize a religious con-
viction founded in philosophical and scientific disciplines.
We may accept the doubtful hypothesis that faith bestows
wisdom, but we deny the wholly reasonable hypothesis that
wisdom bestows faith. Bacon stated the matter expertly when
he affirmed that great learning brings the mind to God.
To the ancients, religious belief was a conviction resulting
from a scientific contemplation of causes. The mind discov-
ered God through the contemplation of universal principles
and the manifestations which these principles set up in the
sphere of particulars. All learning impels the consciousness
to the acceptance of an abiding Divinity which dwells in the
furthermost and the innermost. It is because idealistic learn-
ing impels the intellect toward the acknowledgment of Eternal
244 PatHways oF PHILOSOPHY

Being that Platonism is properly regarded as both a philosophy

and a religion. The purpose of learning is to discover the
nature of Being as cause. Thus true learning must in the end
lead to faith, and faith, by this definition, is acceptance (as
an experience in consciousness) of the spiritual foundations
of the material world.
Leadership in nature is the privilege of superiors. If lead-
ership is entrusted to inferiors, confusion is inevitable. That
which excels in merit is truly superior and that which is defi-
cient in merit is unsuited for superior estate. Obviously, wis-
dom is superior to ignorance, for ignorance, as a state, is defi-
cient in a primary requisite—sufficiency. Ignorant persons
require leadership in order to survive. Wise persons however,
do not require ignorance for the preservation of themselves;
therefore ignorance is not requisite, and that which is not
requisite is not necessary, and that which is not necessary is
subservient or less than that which is necessary. The only art,
science, or trade which can be furthered by ignorance is
despotism. Wisdom is desirable because it is a general pre-
requisite to the attainment of any particular. A wise man is
skillful in knowing, and skill is a combination of knowledge
and discipline. The primary end of philosophy is the attain-
ment of wisdom, or the state of knowing. Knowledge is of
three kinds: the knowledge of things, of self, and of the gods.
To set up a relative pattern it can be said that knowledge of
things is scientific knowledge; the knowledge of self is philo-
sophic knowledge, and knowledge of the gods is spiritual
knowledge. Deficiency of knowledge in any of these depart-
ments results in the state of ignorance.
We have attempted to unfold in this book the extensions
of a philosophical pattern through an order of creative
thinkers. Idealistic philosophy, through its legitimate dis-
 Tue Nroptatonic Restoration 245

ciples, has been applied to the organization of the rational

faculties of the human being for the solution of man’s com-
mon necessity, the need of wisdom. The Neoplatonic pro-
gram is one of the gradual ascent through conditions of rela-
tive knowing to the ultimate state of absolute knowing. Here
classical philosophy comes into conflict with the basic convic-
tion of the modern world; namely, that absolute knowledge
is impossible.

The Knowledge of Causes

An examination of the dimensions and implications of the

term absolute knowledge is indicated at this point in our
analysis. As all knowledge ends in the knowledge of causes,
it must follow that the knowledge of causes is absolute knowl-
edge. But are causes identical either in quality or quantity?
Do they exist in one place or in many places? If causes are
identical, how does it occur that identity projects nonidentity;
that is, how can a unity of cause produce a diversity of effect?
If causes are not identical, have they a common denominator
beyond cause?
The Aristotelians escape from the dilemma of first or ab-
solute cause by postulating the eternity of the world. That
which is eternal is without beginning or end, and exists in
the quality of continuance. Yet all visible natures have begin-
ning and end, and all effects in nature are suspended from
causes, and become in turn causes producing effects.
In terms of Platonism, the inability of the intellect to ap-
prehend causes is due to the natural deficiencies of the reason-
ing powers. If absolute cause exists, it abides beyond the
radius of intellectual energy. If cause is of the nature of mind
it can be discovered by the mind, but if cause is something
246 PatTHways OF PHILOSOPHY

different from mind it cannot be known or experienced by

the mind.
If the mind cannot command the nature of cause, one of
two conclusions is inevitable. Either the nature of cause is
utterly unknowable, or it must be discovered by a faculty
superior to mind. If we deny the existence of a superior
faculty, we deny at the same time that the human being ever
can know the causes of the world and himself. To be igno-
rant of cause is to be utterly frustrated in the estimation of
effects. Unless we understand where we came from, why we
are here, and where we are going, there is no way in which
we can advance our own destiny. We cannot obey the un-
knowable, nor can we achieve a state of security if there is
no way to orient ourselves in the universal pattern. We can
exist only from day to day, burdened internally by an absolute
frustration and obsessed by an emotion of complete defeatism.
The term absolute, when applied to cause, has a special
meaning to the Platonic metaphysician. He recognizes quali-
ties in causation. There may be absolute cause abiding in
absolute space, and there may also be absolute cause in the
midst of the solar system or a planet or in man himself. The
absolute cause of a thing is the cause of the wholeness of that
thing as distinguished. from those secondary causes which
refer to the motions and relations of parts. Thus the human
spirit is the absolute cause of man. The world spirit is the
absolute cause of the world. And the universal spirit is the
absolute cause of the universe. The spirit of a thing contains
the reason for its existence and the means by which the com-
pleteness of that existence shall be attained. Absolute cause
is a quality common to the highest parts of compounds, for
it contains the complete reason for the compound.
 Tue Neopr.atonic ResToRATION 247

Government, according to causes, is government by the

self; the whole administers the parts. Government, according
to effect, is government by and of the parts, without participa-
tion in the conviction of wholeness. Growth is an extension
of faculties toward the consciousness of cause, and ends in
identification with cause as a spiritual experience. Any crea-
ture that accomplishes conscious identification with the prin-
ciple of self attains the knowledge of the absolute cause of its
own existence as a creature.

Superior and Inferior Natures

All superior natures stand in the relationship of causes to

inferior natures. The sciences, for example, depend upon
their superior, which is philosophy, for the perfection of
themselves. ‘Therefore philosophy stands as a cause in rela-
tionship to material learning. Deprived of philosophy, which
includes morality and ethics, the sciences are left without a
purpose superior to themselves. That which is without pur-
pose beyond itself becomes the enemy of its own action. That
which exists as a means to an end greater than itself advances
toward union with superiors. This advance is essential prog-
ress.
Philosophy, in turn, may exist either as end or as means.
Philosophy as end is a form of abstract intellectual gymnas-
tics—the strengthening of faculties for their own sake—a pro-
cedure which results in the conflict of energized faculties ac-
tive without reference to pattern. Philosophy as means is the
organization of the rational powers toward the discovery of
truth, which is the absolute of learning.
As the mind matures under philosophic discipline it be-
comes aware of its own dependence upon that which is be-
248 PatHways oF PHILOSOPHY

yond mind. This realization of dependence achieves a nega-

tive definition of that upon which the mind depends. By
this negative definition the intellect becomes cognizant of
consciousness as directly superior to itself. The true estate
of philosophy is thus revealed. It is the means to the accom-
plishment of its own immediately superior state—the state
of consciousness.
Platonic philosophy points out that the human being is
connected with the universal order about him by a series of
bridges called faculties. These faculties ascend in quality
from the most physical to the most spiritual. Physical facul-
ties serve as links between the internal man and the physical
world; mental faculties as links between the internal man
and the intellectual world, and spiritual faculties as links
between the internal man and the world of causes. The phys-
ical and intellectual faculties are developed sufficiently to be
understood, at least in part; but the majority of mankind is
not yet aware of the existence of spiritual faculties. Even
those who have attained the awareness that such faculties do
exist, are unlearned and unskilled in their use. Neoplatonism
taught that there is an exact science for the training of spir-
itual faculties by which they can be organized as instruments
for the ultimate human purpose—the perception of causes.
Ancient India is the probable source of the exercises and
disciplines used in the training of spiritual faculties. These
exercises and disciplines are an important part of the so-called
esoteric tradition. Academic thinkers may resent the implica-
tions of a secret over-science of the soul, but unless this over-
science exists, all other learning is purposeless. Learning is
vain unless it results in the state of being learned—that is,
wise. Wisdom cannot exist apart from the knowledge of
causes. Causes are unknowable in terms of our present in-
 Tue NEopLatonic REsTORATION 249

tellectual equipment; therefore additional faculties must ex-

ist by which the end of learning is rendered possible.
Neoplatonism differed from Christianity in one philosoph-
ical particular. It insisted that the development of the spir-
itual faculties was possible only after the development of the
material and intellectual faculties. Consciousness crowns
learning, and is possible only to those who have perfected
themselves to receive it.
Consciousness is present everywhere throughout nature,
but manifests only according to the quality of the organisms
which make up the body of nature. Therefore consciousness,
though in itself perfect order, is perceived outwardly as a
conflict of contending forms variously afflicting each other.
Consciousness likewise is present everywhere in the constitu-
tion of man, but until the human being perfects his own
organization this consciousness is perceived only in the con-
flict of functions, attitudes, opinions, and emotions. A state
of spiritual security is not possible to man or nature until the
patterns for that security have been set up by evolutionary
processes, the highest of which is the self-discipline possible
only to man.
There is no philosophical ground for the doctrine that con-
sciousness can miraculously transmute a corrupt form by faith,
belief, or affirmation. The inconsistencies between the idealis-
tic codes of religious organizations and the behavior patterns
of their members result from the false belief that the accept-
ance of a truth is identical in merit with the experiencing of
that truth. The acceptance of that which has not been ex-
perienced is valuable only to the degree that it stimulates
effort to experience. An abstract doctrine may inspire but it
cannot perfect unless its laws are accepted as the basis of
self-discipline.
250 PatHways OF PHILOSOPHY

From these and many other profound considerations the

Neoplatonists formulated their pattern of the philosophic life.
No other school of Western thought has approached the
transcendent dignity of the Neoplatonic program of human
regeneration.
Because they dared to extend their idealism into the secret
world of causes, these Alexandrian transcendentalists have
been accused of being addicted to magic, sorcery, and extrav-
agant mysticism. The criticism is based on a single premise;
namely, that man possesses no faculties beyond the intellect,
and mysticism is a complicated form of self-delusion. Neo-
platonism ceased as an independent school not because its
teachings were disproved but because its doctrines were in-
comprehensible to those intellectuals who had no conception
of wisdom as an experience of consciousness.
After nearly eighteen centuries of materialistic science and
philosophy, the average man and woman is beginning to
realize the deficiency of our traditional viewpoint on the sub-
ject of knowledge. The absurdity of the present situation is
apparent especially to those whose minds have not been
infected by the prevailing skepticism. The individual is ask-
ing himself what he needs in order to give purpose to his
own life. Industry, economics, the trades, professions, arts,
and crafts are means of survival, and are useful channels
for the dissemination of culture. We are making a variety
of adjustments to secure the necessities and luxuries of living.
In time we may organize our social state into a compara-
tively smooth and well-running machine. When this is ac-
complished the utopian dream of socialized security may be
fulfilled. We will live longer and better. But one question
remains. According to our present program with all its ad-
vantages and promises, why live at all?
 Tue NEopiatonic RESTORATION 251

Life as we know it is at best a tempest in a teapot; much

ado about nothing. We work that we may eat, and eat that
we may work. Then someone recommends that we devise
a plan to eat without working. The thought is intriguing,
but not solutional. Life, no matter how we live it, will re-
main unendurable until we discover a purpose worthy of our
mettle. We attain the brotherhood of man by binding men
together in the voluntary service of superiors.
Even materialistic thinkers are beginning to suspect the
existence of extrasensory perceptions. It is no longer scientific
heresy to suggest that there may be more to man than shows
upon the surface. A physicist said not long ago, “It is no
longer possible to state empirically that man has no functions
or faculties beyond those with which we are familiar.” Cau-
tious, but indicative, describes the viewpoint. If man does
possess extrasensory faculties, does it not naturally follow that
these faculties must be applied to the primary purposes of
man—the extension of his power and dominion?
Neoplatonic philosophy not only postulated extrasensory
faculties but declared that such faculties exist in all human
beings. These latent faculties can be stimulated into activity,
trained and directed, and used not only to increase our knowl-
edge of externals but to intensify our realization of internals.
The real end of philosophy is the stimulation and release of
superior faculties. When philosophy lost this vision, when
philosophers were content to argue the merits and demerits
of conflicting schools, the whole body of philosophy lost the
name of action. Thinking for the sake of thinking is not
solutional of the world’s dilemma. Intellectuals may enjoy
a battle of wits, but this recreation is a luxury unsuited to the
tempo of our times. We are in the presence of great decisions.
We require a dynamic restatement of practical idealism, In-
252 PATHWAYS OF PHILOSOPHY

dividuals, communities, nations, races, and humanity as a

whole, stand in desperate need of a vision beyond the limita-
tions of the obvious. Our intellectual way of life has not res-
cued us or our institutions from the dismal pattern of war,
crime, poverty, and disease. As things stand today we utterly
lack the internal vision necessary to reform external condi-
tions.
Neoplatonism is not a new and untried remedy for the
prevailing distemper. As a formal pattern in the sphere of
mind it has been unfolding for nearly seventeen hundred
years. The current of its conviction has flowed from genera-
tion to generation, everywhere making fertile the seeds of
human aspirations. The great leaders of world thought, phi-
losophers, priests, statesmen, scientists, artists, and poets, have
been Neoplatonists by conviction if not by formal acknowl-
edgment. Idealists must forever rescue the world from the
tragic consequences of materialism. The true leaders of our
race have never labored merely for their own security or ad-
vancement. Their works have sprung from a secret convic-
tion in themselves; they have been dedicated to the service of
universals. To each of them a sovereign, invisible reality,
stronger than any visible consideration, has sustained them
through persecution, adversity, and martyrdom. They have
derived their strength not from their world nor from the
applause of the uninformed; their strength is from within.
They were superior men and women because they approached
by extension of consciousness the knowledge of causes. They
discovered by experience the sovereignty of unity over diver-
sity; the sovereignty of eternity over time. They built not for
their own time but for the future; not for themselves but for
all men; not for the world but beyond the world. Dare we
say that these men were not practical?
 THE NEopLaTonic RESTORATION 253

This growth of truth and beauty in man, this mystical

experience by which we share for an instant in the purpose
for ourselves; this awakening from the dream of matter to
the conscious state of spirit; this is Neoplatonism. If we
would be happy, if we would justify our existence in terms
of essential achievement, if we would rise from the uncer-
tainty of opinion to the certainty of fact, let us make philos-
ophy our journey.
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