Christian Neoplatonism tended to identify the Logos, as the Second

Person of the Trinity, with the [Greek: Nous], "Mind" or

"Intelligence," of Plotinus, and rightly; but in Plotinus the word

Logos has a less exalted position, being practically what we call

"law," regarded as a vital force.[138]

Plotinus' Trinity are the One or the Good, who is above existence,

God as the Absolute; the Intelligence, who occupies the sphere of real

existence, organic unity comprehending multiplicity--the One-Many, as

he calls it, or, as we might call it, God as thought, God existing in

and for Himself; and the Soul, the One and Many, occupying the sphere

of appearance or imperfect reality--God as action. Soulless matter,

which only exists as a logical abstraction, is arrived at by looking

at things "in disconnexion, dull and spiritless." It is the sphere of

the "merely many," and is zero, as "the One who is not" is Infinity.

The Intelligible World is timeless and spaceless, and contains the

archetypes of the Sensible World. The Sensible World is _our_ view of

the Intelligible World. When we say it does not exist, we mean that we

shall not always see it in this form. The "Ideas" are the ultimate

form in which things are regarded by Intelligence, or by God. [Greek:

Nous] is described as at once [Greek: stasis] and [Greek:

kinêsis], that is, it is unchanging itself, but the whole cosmic

process, which is ever in flux, is eternally present to it as a

process.

Evil is disintegration.[139] In its essence it is not merely unreal,

but unreality as such. It can only _appear_ in conjunction with some

low degree of goodness which suggests to Plotinus the fine saying that

"vice at its worst is still human, being mixed with something

opposite to itself.[140]"

The "lower virtues," as he calls the duties of the average

citizen,[141] are not only purgative, but teach us the principles of

_measure_ and _rule_, which are Divine characteristics. This is

immensely important, for it is the point where Platonism and Asiatic

Mysticism finally part company.[142]

But in Plotinus, as in his Christian imitators, they do _not_ part

company. The "marching orders" of the true mystic are those given by

God to Moses on Sinai, "See that thou make all things according to the

pattern showed thee in the mount.[143]" But Plotinus teaches that, as

the sensible world is a shadow of the intelligible, so is action a

shadow of contemplation, suited to weak-minded persons.[144] This is

turning the tables on the "man of action" in good earnest; but it is

false Platonism and false Mysticism. It leads to the heartless

doctrine, quite unworthy of the man, that public calamities are to the

wise man only stage tragedies--or even stage comedies.[145] The moral

results of this self-centred individualism are exemplified by the

mediæval saint and visionary, Angela of Foligno, who congratulates

herself on the deaths of her mother, husband, and children, "who were

great obstacles in the way of God."

A few words must be said about the doctrine of ecstasy in Plotinus. He

describes the conditions under which the vision is granted in exactly

the same manner as some of the Christian mystics, e.g. St. Juan of the

Cross. "The soul when possessed by intense love of Him divests herself

of all form which she has, even of that which is derived from

Intelligence; for it is impossible, when in conscious possession of

any other attribute, either to behold or to be harmonised with Him.

Thus the soul must be neither good nor bad nor aught else, that she

may receive Him only, Him alone, she alone.[146]" While she is in this

state, the One suddenly appears, "with nothing between," "and they are

no more two but one; and the soul is no more conscious of the body or

of the mind, but knows that she has what she desired, that she is

where no deception can come, and that she would not exchange her bliss

for all the heaven of heavens."

What is the source of this strange aspiration to rise above Reason and

Intelligence, which is for Plotinus the highest category of Being, and

to come out "on the other side of Being" [Greek: epekeina tês

ousias]? Plotinus says himself elsewhere that "he who would rise above

Reason, falls outside it"; and yet he regards it as the highest

reward of the philosopher-saint to converse with the hypostatised

Abstraction who transcends all distinctions. The vision of the One is

no part of his philosophy, but is a mischievous accretion. For though

the "superessential Absolute" may be a logical necessity, we cannot

make it, even in the most transcendental manner, an object of sense,

without depriving it of its Absoluteness. What is really apprehended

is not the Absolute, but a kind of "form of formlessness," an idea not

of the Infinite, but of the Indefinite.[147] It is then impossible to

distinguish "the One," who is said to be above all distinctions, from

undifferentiated matter, the formless No-thing, which Plotinus puts at

the lowest end of the scale.

I believe that the Neoplatonic "vision" owes its place in the system

to two very different causes. First, there was the direct influence of

Oriental philosophy of the Indian type, which tries to reach the

universal by wiping out all the boundary-lines of the particular, and

to gain infinity by reducing self and the world to zero. Of this we

shall say more when we come to Dionysius. And, secondly, the blank

trance was a real psychical experience, quite different from the

"visions" which we have already mentioned. Evidence is abundant; but I

will content myself with one quotation.[148] In Amiel's _Journal_[149]

we have the following record of such a trance: "Like a dream which

trembles and dies at the first glimmer of dawn, all my past, all my

present, dissolve in me, and fall away from my consciousness at the

moment when it returns upon myself. I feel myself then stripped and

empty, like a convalescent who remembers nothing. My travels, my

reading, my studies, my projects, my hopes, have faded from my mind.

All my faculties drop away from me like a cloak that one takes off,

like the chrysalis case of a larva. I feel myself returning into a

more elementary form." But Amiel, instead of expecting the advent of

"the One" while in this state, feels that "the pleasure of it is

deadly, inferior in all respects to the joys of action, to the

sweetness of love, to the beauty of enthusiasm, or to the sacred

savour of accomplished duty.[149]"

We may now return to the Christian Platonists. We find in Methodius

the interesting doctrine that the indwelling Christ constantly repeats

His passion in remembrance, "for not otherwise could the Church

continually conceive believers, and bear them anew through the bath of

regeneration, unless Christ were repeatedly to die, emptying Himself

for the sake of each individual." "Christ must be born mentally

([Greek: moêtôs]) in every individual," and each individual saint,

by participating in Christ, "is born as a Christ." This is exactly the

language of Eckhart and Tauler, and it is first clearly heard in the

mouth of Methodius.[150] The new features are the great prominence

given to _immanence_--the mystical union as an _opus operatum_, and

the individualistic conception of the relation of Christ to the soul.

Of the Greek Fathers who followed Athanasius, I have only room to

mention Gregory of Nyssa, who defends the historical incarnation in

true mystical fashion by an appeal to spiritual experience. "We all

believe that the Divine is in everything, pervading and embracing it,

and dwelling in it. Why then do men take offence at the dispensation

of the mystery taught by the Incarnation of God, who is not, even now,

outside of mankind?... If the _form_ of the Divine presence is not now

the same, we are as much agreed that God is among us to-day, as that

He was in the world then." He argues in another place that all other

species of spiritual beings must have had their Incarnations of

Christ; a doctrine which was afterwards condemned, but which seems to

follow necessarily from the Logos doctrine. These arguments show very

clearly that for the Greek theologians Christ is a cosmic principle,

immanent in the world, though not confined by it; and that the scheme

of salvation is regarded as part of the constitution of the universe,

which is animated and sustained by the same Power who was fully

manifested in the Incarnation.

The question has been much debated, whether the influence of Persian

and Indian thought can be traced in Neoplatonism, or whether that

system was purely Greek.[151] It is a quite hopeless task to try to

disentangle the various strands of thought which make up the web of

Alexandrianism. But there is no doubt that the philosophers of Asia

were held in reverence at this period. Origen, in justifying an

esoteric mystery-religion for the educated, and a mythical religion

for the vulgar, appeals to the example of the "Persians and Indians."

And Philostratus, in his life of Apollonius of Tyana, says, or makes

his hero say, that while all wish to live in the presence of God, "the

Indians alone succeed in doing so." And certainly there are parts of

Plotinus, and still more of his successors, which strongly suggest

Asiatic influences.[152] When we turn from Alexandria to Syria, we

find Orientalism more rampant. Speculation among the Syrian monks of

the third, fourth, and fifth centuries was perhaps more unfettered

and more audacious than in any other branch of Christendom at any

period. Our knowledge of their theories is very limited, but one

strange specimen has survived in the book of Hierotheus,[153] which

the canonised Dionysius praises in glowing terms as an inspired

oracle--indeed, he professes that his own object in writing was merely

to popularise the teaching of his master. The book purports to be the

work of Hierotheus, a holy man converted by St. Paul, and an

instructor of the real Dionysius the Areopagite. A strong case has

been made out for believing the real author to be a Syrian mystic,

named Stephen bar Sudaili, who lived late in the fifth century. If

this theory is correct, the date of Dionysius will have to be moved

somewhat later than it has been the custom to fix it. The book of the

holy Hierotheus on "the hidden mysteries of the Divinity" has been but

recently discovered, and only a summary of it has as yet been made

public. But it is of great interest and importance for our subject,

because the author has no fear of being accused of Pantheism or any

other heresy, but develops his particular form of Mysticism to its

logical conclusions with unexampled boldness. He will show us better

even than his pupil Dionysius whither the method of "analysis" really

leads us.

The system of Hierotheus is not exactly Pantheism, but Pan-Nihilism.

Everything is an emanation from the Chaos of bare indetermination

which he calls God, and everything will return thither. There are

three periods of existence--(1) the present world, which is evil, and

is characterised by motion; (2) the progressive union with Christ, who

is all and in all--this is the period of rest; (3) the period of

fusion of all things in the Absolute. The three Persons of the

Trinity, he dares to say, will then be swallowed up, and even the

devils are thrown into the same melting-pot. Consistently with

mystical principles, these three world-periods are also phases in the

development of individual souls. In the first stage the mind aspires

towards its first principles; in the second it becomes Christ, the

universal Mind; in the third its personality is wholly merged. The

greater part of the book is taken up with the adventures of the Mind

in climbing the ladder of perfection; it is a kind of theosophical

romance, much more elaborate and fantastic than the "revelations" of

mediæval mystics. The author professes to have himself enjoyed the

ecstatic union more than once, and his method of preparing for it is

that of the Quietists: "To me it seems right to speak without words,

and understand without knowledge, that which is above words and

knowledge; this I apprehend to be nothing but the mysterious silence

and mystical quiet which destroys consciousness and dissolves forms.

Seek, therefore, silently and mystically, that perfect and primitive

union with the Arch-Good."

We cannot follow the "ascent of the Mind" through its various

transmutations. At one stage it is crucified, "with the soul on the

right and the body on the left"; it is buried for three days; it

descends into Hades;[154] then it ascends again, till it reaches

Paradise, and is united to the tree of life: then it descends below

all essences, and sees a formless luminous essence, and marvels that

it is _the same essence_ that it has seen on high. Now it comprehends

the truth, that God is consubstantial with the Universe, and that

there are no real distinctions anywhere. So it ceases to wander. "All

these doctrines," concludes the seer, "which are unknown even to

angels, have I disclosed to thee, my son" (Dionysius, probably).

"Know, then, that all nature will be confused with the Father--that

nothing will perish or be destroyed, but all will return, be

sanctified, united, and confused. Thus God will be all in all.[155]"

There can be no difficulty in classifying this Syrian philosophy of

religion. It is the ancient religion of the Brahmins, masquerading in

clothes borrowed from Jewish allegorists, half-Christian Gnostics,

Manicheans, Platonising Christians, and pagan Neoplatonists. We will

now see what St. Dionysius makes of this system, which he accepts as

from the hand of one who has "not only learned, but felt the things of

God.[156]"

The date and nationality of Dionysius are still matters of

dispute.[157] Mysticism changes so little that it is impossible to

determine the question by internal evidence, and for our purposes it

is not of great importance. The author was a monk, perhaps a Syrian

monk: he probably perpetrated a deliberate fraud--a pious fraud, in

his own opinion--by suppressing his own individuality, and fathering

his books on St. Paul's Athenian convert. The success of the imposture

is amazing, even in that uncritical age, and gives much food for

reflection. The sixth century saw nothing impossible in a book

full of the later Neoplatonic theories--those of Proclus rather

than Plotinus[158]--having been written in the first century.

And the mediæval Church was ready to believe that this strange

semi-pantheistic Mysticism dropped from the lips of St. Paul.[159]

Dionysius is a theologian, not a visionary like his master Hierotheus.

His main object is to present Christianity in the guise of a Platonic

mysteriosophy, and he uses the technical terms of the mysteries

whenever he can.[160] His philosophy is that of his day--the later

Neoplatonism, with its strong Oriental affinities.

Beginning with the Trinity, he identifies God the Father with the

Neoplatonic Monad, and describes Him as "superessential

Indetermination," "super-rational Unity," "the Unity which unifies

every unity," "superessential Essence," "irrational Mind," "unspoken

Word," "the absolute No-thing which is above all existence.[161]"

Even now he is not satisfied with the tortures to which he has

subjected the Greek language. "No monad or triad," he says, "can

express the all-transcending hiddenness of the all-transcending

super-essentially super-existing super-Deity.[162]" But even in the

midst of this barbarous jargon he does not quite forget his Plato.

"The Good and Beautiful," he says, "are the cause of all things that

are; and all things love and aspire to the Good and Beautiful, which

are, indeed, the sole objects of their desire." "Since, then, the

Absolute Good and Beautiful is honoured by eliminating all qualities

from it, the non-existent also ([Greek: to mê on]) must

participate in the Good and Beautiful." This pathetic absurdity shows

what we are driven to if we try to graft Indian nihilism upon the

Platonic doctrine of ideas. Plotinus tried hard to show that his First

Person was very different from his lowest category--non-existent

"matter"; but if we once allow ourselves to define the Infinite as the

Indefinite, the conclusion which he deprecated cannot long be averted.

"God is the Being of all that is." Since, then, Being is identical

with God or Goodness, evil, as such, does not exist; it only exists by

its participation in good. Evil, he says, is not in things which

exist; a good tree cannot bear evil fruit; it must, therefore, have

another origin. But this is dualism, and must be rejected.[163] Nor

is evil in God, nor of God; nor in the angels; nor in the human soul;

nor in the brutes; nor in inanimate nature; nor in matter. Having thus

hunted evil out of every corner of the universe, he asks--Is evil,

then, simply privation of good? But privation is not evil in itself.

No; evil must arise from "disorderly and inharmonious motion." As dirt

has been defined as matter in the wrong place, so evil is good in the

wrong place. It arises by a kind of accident; "all evil is done with

the object of gaining some good; no one does evil as evil." Evil in

itself is that which is "nohow, nowhere, and no thing"; "God sees evil

as good." Students of modern philosophy will recognise a theory which

has found influential advocates in our own day: that evil needs only

to be supplemented, rearranged, and transmuted, in order to take its

place in the universal harmony.[164]

All things flow out from God, and all will ultimately return to Him. The

first emanation is the Thing in itself ([Greek: auto to einai]), which

corresponds to the Plotinian [Greek: Nous], and to the Johannine Logos.

He also calls it "Life in itself" and "Wisdom in itself" ([Greek:

autozôê, autosophia]). Of this he says, "So then the Divine Wisdom in

knowing itself will know all things. It will know the material

immaterially, and the divided inseparably, and the many as one ([Greek:

heniaiôs]), knowing all things by the standard of absolute unity." These

important speculations are left undeveloped by Dionysius, who merely

states them dogmatically. The universe is evolved from the Son, whom he

identifies with the "Thing in itself," "Wisdom," or "Life in itself." In

creation "the One is said to become multiform." The world is a necessary

process of God's being. He created it "as the sun shines," "without

premeditation or purpose." The Father is simply One; the Son has also

plurality, namely, the words (or reasons) which make existence ([Greek:

tous ousiopoious logous]), which theology calls fore-ordinations

([Greek: proorismous]). But he does not teach that all separate

existences will ultimately be merged in the One. The highest Unity gives

to all the power of striving, on the one hand, to share in the One; on

the other, to persist in their own individuality. And in more than one

passage he speaks of God as a Unity comprehending, not abolishing

differences.[165] "God is before all things"; "Being is in Him, and He

is not in Being." Thus Dionysius tries to safeguard the transcendence of

God, and to escape Pantheism. The outflowing process is appropriated by

the mind by the _positive_ method--the downward path through finite

existences: its conclusion is, "God is All." The return journey is by

the _negative_ road, that of ascent to God by abstraction and analysis:

its conclusion is, "All is not God.[166]" The negative path is the high

road of a large school of mystics; I will say more about it presently.

The mystic, says Dionysius, "must leave behind all things both in the

sensible and in the intelligible worlds, till he enters into the

darkness of nescience that is truly mystical." This "Divine darkness,"

he says elsewhere, "is the light unapproachable" mentioned by St. Paul,

"a deep but dazzling darkness," as Henry Vaughan calls it. It is dark

through excess of light[167]. This doctrine really renders nugatory what

he has said about the persistence of distinctions after the restitution

of all things; for as "all colours agree in the dark," so, for us, in

proportion as we attain to true knowledge, all distinctions are lost in

the absolute.

The soul is bipartite. The higher portion sees the "Divine images"

directly, the lower by means of symbols. The latter are not to be

despised, for they are "true impressions of the Divine characters,"

and necessary steps, which enable us to "mount to the one undivided

truth by analogy." This is the way in which we should use the

Scriptures. They have a symbolic truth and beauty, which is

intelligible only to those who can free themselves from the "puerile

myths[168]" (the language is startling in a saint of the Church!) in

which they are sometimes embedded.

Dionysius has much to say about love[169], but he uses the word

[Greek: erôs], which is carefully avoided in the New Testament. He

admits that the Scriptures "often use" [Greek: agapê], but justifies

his preference for the other word by quoting St. Ignatius, who says of

Christ, "My Love [Greek: erôs] is crucified.[170]" Divine Love, he

finely says, is "an eternal circle, from goodness, through goodness,

and to goodness."

The mediæval mystics were steeped in Dionysius, though his system

received from them certain modifications under the influence of

Aristotelianism. He is therefore, for us, a very important figure; and

there are two parts of his scheme which, I think, require fuller

consideration than has been given them in this very slight sketch. I

mean the "negative road" to God, and the pantheistic tendency.

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