CHAPTER XII

THE AFTER-LIFE PROBLEMS AND DOCTRINES

Moving on now to the questions concerning the After-Life, it

will be convenient to consider them under five heads: the chief

present-day positions and perplexities with regard to belief in

the After-Life in General; the main implications and convictions

inherent to an Eschatology such as Catherine’s; and then the principal

characteristics, difficulties, and helps of her tendencies and

teachings concerning Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven. And throughout the

Chapter we shall busy ourselves directly only with the After-Life in

the sense of a heightened, or at least an equal, consciousness after

death, as compared to that which existed before death: the belief in

a shrunken state of survival, in non-annihilation, appearing to be as

certainly the universal minimum of belief as such a minimum is not

Immortality.

I. THE CHIEF PRESENT-DAY PROBLEMS, PERPLEXITIES, AND REQUIREMENTS WITH

REGARD TO THE AFTER-LIFE IN GENERAL.

Now I take our chief present-day problems, perplexities, and resultant

requirements with regard to the After-Life in general, to fall into

three groups, according as those problems are predominantly Historical,

or Philosophical, or directly Practical and Ethical.

1. _Three Historical Difficulties._

The Historical group now brings very clearly and certainly before

us the striking non-universality, the startling lateness, and

the generally strange fitfulness and apparent unreasonableness

characterizing the earliest stage of belief in the soul’s heightened,

or at least equivalent, consciousness after death.

(1) Now with respect to the Non-Universality of the doctrine, it

is true that, in China, Confucianism is full of care for the dead.

“Throughout the Empire, the authorities are obliged to hold three

annual sacrifices for the refreshment and rest of the souls of the dead

in general.” “It is hardly doubtful that the cultus of Ancestors formed

the chief institution in classical Confucianism, and constituted the

very centre of religion for the people. Even now ancestor-worship is

the only form of religion for which rules, applicable to the various

classes among the Emperor’s subjects, are laid down in the Dynastic

Statutes.” And Professor De Groot, from whom I am quoting, gives an

interesting conspectus of the numberless ways in which the religious

service of the dead penetrates Chinese life.[191]--Yet we hear of

Kong-Tse (Confucius) himself (551-478 B.C.), that, though he insisted

upon the most scrupulous execution of the three hundred rules of the

then extant temple-ceremonial, which were no doubt largely busy with

the dead, and though he said that one should sacrifice to the spirits

as if they were present, he designated, in several of his sayings,

occupation with theological problems as useless: “as long as we do not

know men, how shall we know spirits? As long as we do not understand

life, how should we fathom death?” And to questions relative to the

spirits and the dead, he would give evasive answers.[192] Thus the

founder of the most characteristic of the Chinese religions was without

any clear and consistent conviction on the point in question.

In India we find, for Brahmanic religion, certain unmistakable

Immortality-Doctrines (in the sense of the survival of the soul’s

self-consciousness), expressed in the hymns of the _Rig-Veda_.--But

already, in the philosophizings of the _Upanishads_, we get a

world-soul, and this soul’s exclusive permanence: “to attain to true

unity, the very duality of subject and object is to disappear. The

terms Atman and Brahman here express the true Being which vivifies all

beings and appearances, and with which cognizing man reunites himself

whilst losing his individual existence.”[193]

And if we move on to Buddhism, with its hundreds of millions of

adherents in Burmah, Tibet, China, and Japan, we can learn, from the

classical work of Oldenberg, how interestingly deep down lies the

reason for the long conflict between scholars as to whether Nirvana

is or is not to be taken for the complete extinction of the individual

soul. “Everything, in the Buddhist dogmatic system, is part and parcel

of a circle of Becoming and of Dissolution: all things are but a

Dhamma, a Sankhara; and all Dhamma, all Sankhara are but temporary.…

The Mutable, Conditioned is here thinkable only as conditioned by

another Mutable and Conditioned. If we follow the dialectic consequence

alone, there is no seeing how, according to this system, there can

remain over, when a succession and mutual destruction of things

conditioning and of things conditioned has run its course, anything

but a pure vacuum.” And we have also such a saying of the Buddha as

the following. “Now if, O disciples, the Ego (_atta_) and anything

appertaining to the Ego (_attaniya_) cannot be comprehended with

accuracy and certainty, is not then the faith which declares: ‘This is

the world, and this is the Ego; this shall I become at death,--firm,

constant, eternal, unchangeable,--thus shall I be there, throughout

eternity,’--is not this sheer empty folly?” “How should it not, O

Lord, be sheer empty folly?” answer the disciples. “One who spoke

thus,” is Oldenberg’s weighty comment, “cannot have been far from the

conviction that Nirvana is annihilation. Yet it is understandable how

the very thinkers, who were capable of bearing this consequence, should

have hesitated to raise it to the rank of an official dogma of the

community.… Hence the official doctrine of the Buddhist Church attained

the form, that, on the question of the real existence of the Ego, of

whether or not the perfected saint lives on after death, the exalted

Buddha has taught nothing. Indeed the legally obligatory doctrine of

the old community required of its votaries an explicit renunciation of

all knowledge concerning the existence or non-existence of completely

redeemed souls.”

“Buddhism,” so Oldenberg sums up the matter, with, I think, the

substantial adhesion of all present-day competent authorities, “teaches

that there is a way out of the world of created things, out into the

dark Infinite. Does this way lead to new being? or does it lead to

nothingness? Buddhist belief maintains itself on the knife’s edge

of these alternatives. The desire of the heart, as it longs for the

Eternal, is not left without something, and yet the thinking mind is

not given a something that it could grasp and retain. The thought

of the Infinite, the Eternal, could not be present at all, and yet

vanish further away than here, where, a mere breath and on the

point of sinking into sheer nothingness, it threatens to disappear

altogether.”[194] This vast Buddhist community, numbering, perhaps, a

third of the human race, should not, then, be forgotten, when we urge

the contrary instances of the religions of Assyria and Babylonia; of

Egypt; of Greece and Rome; and, above all, of the Jews and Christianity.

Yet it is well to remember that such non-universality of belief is at

least as real, to this very hour, for such a fundamental religious

truth and practice as Monotheism and Monolatry; such purely Ethical

convictions as Monogamy and the Illicitness of Slavery; such a plain

dictate of the universal humanitarian ideal as the illegitimacy

of the application of physical compulsion in matters of religious

conviction; and such directly demonstrable psychical and natural facts

as subconsciousness in the human soul, the sexual character of plants,

and the earth’s rotundity and rotation around the sun. In none of these

cases can we claim more than that the higher, truer doctrine,--that is,

the one which explains and transcends the element of truth contained in

its predecessor and opposite,--is explicitly reached by a part only of

humanity, and is but implied and required by other men, at their best.

Yet this is clearly enough for leaving us free to decide,--reasonably

conclusive evidence for their truth being forthcoming,--in favour of

the views of the minority: since the assumption of an equality of

spiritual and moral insight and advance throughout mankind is as little

based upon fact, as would be the supposition of men’s equal physical

strength or height, or of any other quality or circumstance of their

nature and environment.

(2) The lateness of the doctrine’s appearance, precisely in the cases

where there can be no doubt of its standing for a conviction of an

endless persistence of a heightened consciousness after death,--that

is, amongst the Greeks (and Romans) and the Jews (and Christians),--has

now been well established by critical historical research.

With regard to the Greeks,[195] the matter is particularly plain,

since we can still trace even in Plato, (427 to 347 B.C.), who, next

to Our Lord Himself and to St. Paul, is doubtless the greatest and

most influential teacher of full individual Immortality that the world

has seen, two periods of thought in this matter, and can show that

the first was without any such certain conviction. In his _Apology of

Socrates_, written soon after the execution in 399 B.C., he makes his

great master, close to his end, declare that death would bring to man

either a complete unconsciousness, like to a dreamless sleep, or a

transition into another life,--a life here pictured like to the Homeric

Hades. Both possibilities Socrates made to accept resignedly, in full

reliance on the justice of the Gods, and to look no further; how should

he know what is known to no man?--And this is Plato’s own earlier

teaching. For in the very _Republic_ which, in its chronologically

later constituents, (especially in Book V, 471_c_, to the end of

Book VIII, Book IX, 560_d_ to 588_a_, and Book X up to 608_b_), so

insists upon and develops the truth and importance of Immortality in

the strictest, indeed the sublimest sense: we get, in its earlier

portions, (especially in Book II, 10_c_, to Book V, 460_c_), no trace

of any such conviction. For, in these earlier passages, the Guardians

in the Ideal State are not to consider what may come after death: the

central theme is the manner in which Justice carries with it its own

recompense; and the rewards, that are popularly wont to be placed

before the soul, are referred to ironically,--Socrates is determined to

do without such hopes. In those later portions, on the contrary, there

is the greatest insistence upon the importance of caring, not for this

short life alone, but for the soul’s “whole time” and for what awaits

it after death. And in the still later parts, (as in Books VI and VII),

the sublimest form of Immortality is presupposed as true and actual

throughout. Thus in Greece it is not till about 390-380 B.C., and in

Plato himself not till his middle life, that we get a quite definite

and final doctrine of the Immortality of all souls, and of a blessed

after-existence for every just and holy life here below.

For the survival after the body’s death, indubitably attributed to

the Psyche in the Homeric Poems, is conceived there, throughout,

as a miserably shrunken consciousness, and one which is dependent

for its continuance upon the good offices bestowed by the survivors

upon the corpse and grave. And the translation of the still living

Menelaus to Elysium (Od. IV, 560-568) is probably a later insertion;

belongs to a small class of exceptional cases; implies the writer’s

inability to conceive a heightened consciousness for the soul, after

the soul’s separation from the body; and is based, not upon any virtue

or reward, but upon Menelaus’s family-relationship to Zeus. Ganymede

gets similarly translated because of his physical beauty (II. XX, 232

_seq._).

Hesiod, though later than Homer as a writer, gives us, in his account

of the Five Ages of the World (_Works and Days_, ll. 109-201), some

traces of an Animistic conception of a heightened life of the bodiless

soul beyond the grave,--a conception which had been neglected or

suppressed by Homer, but which had evidently been preserved alive in

the popular religion of, at least, Central Greece. Yet Hesiod knows of

such a life only for the Golden and for the Silver Ages, and for some

miraculous, exceptional cases of the fourth, the Heroic Age: already

in the third, the Bronze Age, and still more emphatically in his own

fifth, the Iron Age, there are no such consolations: nothing but the

shrunken consciousness of the Homeric after-death Psyche is, quite

evidently, felt by him to be the lot of all souls in the hard, iron

present.

The Cultus of the Heroes is already registered in Draco’s Athenian

Laws, in about 620 B.C., as a traditional custom. And these Heroes have

certainly lived at one time as men upon earth, and have become heroes

only after death; their souls, though severed from the body, live a

heightened imperishable life, indeed one that can mightily help men

here below and now,--so at Delphi and at Salamis against the Persians.

Yet here again each case of such an elevation was felt to be a miracle,

an exception incapable of becoming a universal law: not even the germ

of a belief in the Immortality of the soul as such seems to be here.

The Cultus of the Nether-World Deities, of the Departed generally, and,

as the culmination of all this movement, the Eleusinian Mysteries,

must not be conceived as involving or as leading to, any belief in the

ecstatic elevation of the soul, or consciousness of its God-likeness;

and such unending bliss as is secured, is gained by men, not because

they are virtuous and devout, but through their initiation into the

Mysteries. Rhode assures us, rightly I think, that “it remains unproved

that, during the classical period of Greek culture, the belief in

Judges and a Judgment to be held in Hades over the deeds done by men on

earth, had struck root among the people”; Professor Percy Gardner adds

his great authority to the same conclusion.[196] Here again it is Plato

who is the first to take up a clearly and consistently spiritual and

universalistic position.

Indeed it is only in the predominantly neuropathic, indeed largely

immoral and repulsive, forms of the Dionysiac sect and movement, (at

work, perhaps, already in the eighth century B.C. and which leads

on to the formation of the more aristocratic and priestly Orphic

communities) that a demonstrable and direct belief arose in the soul’s

intrinsic God-likeness, or even divinity, and in its immortality,

or even eternity; and that stimulations, materials, and conceptions

were furnished to Greek thought, which are traceable wheresoever it

henceforth inclines to belief in the soul’s intrinsic Immortality.

Yet the leaven spread but slowly into philosophy. For the Ionian

philosophers, and among them Heraclitus, the impressive teacher of

the flux of all things, flourish from about 600 to 430 B.C.; but,

_naïve_ Materialists and Pantheists as they are, they frankly exclude

all survival of individual consciousness after death. The Eleatic

philosophers live between 550 and 450 B.C., and are all busy with _a

priori_ logical constructions of the physical world, conceived as sole

and self-explanatory; and amongst them is Parmenides, the powerful

propounder of the complete identity and immutability of all reality.

Those transcendent spiritual beliefs appear first as part, indeed as

the very foundation, although still rather of a mode of life than of

a formal philosophy, in the teaching and community of Pythagoras, who

seems to have lived about 580 to 490 B.C., and who certainly emigrated

from Asia Minor to Croton in Southern Italy. The soul appears here

as intrinsically immortal, indeed without beginning and without end.

And then Immortality forms one (the mystical) of the two thoroughly

heterogeneous elements of the, otherwise predominantly Ionic and

Materialistic, philosophy of Empedocles of Agrigentum in Sicily, about

490 to 435 B.C. In both these cases the Dionysiac-Orphic provenance of

the “Immortality”-doctrines is clearly apparent.

And then, among the poets who bridge over the period up to Plato, we

find Pindar, who, alongside of reproductions of the ordinary, popular

conceptions, gives us at times lofty, Orphic-like teachings as to

the eternity, the migration, and the eventual persistent rest and

happiness of the just Soul, and as to the suffering of the unjust one;

Aeschylus, who primarily dwells upon the Gods’ judgment in this life,

and who makes occasional allusions to the after-life which are partly

still of the Homeric type; Sophocles, who indeed refers to the special

privileges which, in the after-life, attend upon the souls that have

here been initiated into the Eleusinian Mysteries, and who causes

Oedipus to be translated, whilst still alive, to Other-World happiness,

but who knows nothing of an unceasing heightened consciousness

for all men after death; and Euripides, who, showing plainly the

influence of the Sophists, gives expression, alongside of Pantheistic

identifications of the soul and of the aether, to every kind of

misgiving and doubt as to any survival after death.

And as to the appearance of the doctrine among the Jews, we again find

a surprising lateness. I follow here, with but minor contributions

and modifications from other writers and myself, the main conclusions

of Dr. Charles’s standard _Critical History of the Doctrine of a

Future Life_, London, 1899, whose close knowledge of the subject is

unsurpassed, and who finds as many and as early attestations as are

well-nigh findable by serious workers.[197]

“The primitive beliefs of the individual Israelite regarding the future

life, being derived from Ancestor-worship, were implicitly antagonistic

to Yahwism, from its first proclamation by Moses.… This antagonism

becomes explicit and results in the final triumph of Yahwism.” And

to the early Israelite, even under Yahwism, “the religious unit was”

not the individual but “the family or tribe.” Thus, even fully six

centuries after Moses, “the message of the prophets of the eighth

century,” Amos, Hosea, Isaiah, Micah, “is still directed to the

nation, and the judgments they proclaim are collective punishment for

collective guilt. It is not till late in the seventh century B.C. that

the problem of individual retribution really emerged, and received

its first solution in the teaching of Jeremiah.” And “the further

development of these ideas,” by the teaching of Ezekiel and of some

of the Psalms and Proverbs, as regards individual responsibility

and retribution in this life, and by the deep misgivings and keen

questionings of Job and Ecclesiastes, as to the adequacy of this

teaching, “led inevitably to the conception of a blessed life beyond

the grave.”

Yet throughout the Hebrew Old Testament the Eschatology of the Nation

greatly predominates over that of the Individual. Indeed in pre-Exilic

times “the day of Yahwe,” with its national judgments, constitutes

the all but exclusive subject of the prophetic teaching as to the

future. Only from the Exile, (597 to 538 B.C.), onwards, does the

eschatological development begin to grow in complexity, for now the

individualism first preached by Jeremiah begins to maintain its claim

also. But not till the close of the fourth century, or the beginning of

the third century B.C., do the separate eschatologies of the individual

and of the nation issue finally in their synthesis: the righteous

individual will participate in the Messianic Kingdom, the righteous

dead of Israel will arise to share therein,--thus in Isaiah xxvi, 1-19,

a passage which it is difficult to place earlier than about 334 B.C.

The resurrection is here limited to the just. In Daniel xii, 2, which

is probably not earlier than 165 B.C., the resurrection is extended,

not indeed to all members of Israel, but, with respective good and evil

effects, to its martyrs and apostates.

And the slowness and incompleteness of the development throughout the

Hebrew Old Testament is strikingly illustrated by the great paucity

of texts which yield, without the application of undue pressure, any

clear conviction or hope of a heightened, or even a sheer, maintenance

of the soul’s this-life consciousness and force after death. Besides

the passages just indicated, Dr. Charles can only find Psalms xlix and

lxxiii, and Job xix, 25-27, all three, according to him, later than

Ezekiel, who died in 571 B.C.[198] The textually uncertain and obscure

Job-passage (xix, 25, 26) must be discounted, since it evidently

demands interpretation according to the plain presupposition and point

of the great poem as a whole.--And the same result is reached by the

numerous, entirely unambiguous, passages which maintain the negative

persuasion. In the hymn put into the mouth of the sick king Hezekiah,

for about 713 B.C., (a composition which seems to be very late,

perhaps only of the second century B.C.), we hear: “The grave cannot

praise Thee … they that go down into the pit cannot hope for truth.

The living, the living, he shall praise Thee, as I do this day.” And

the Psalter contains numerous similar declarations. Thus vi, 5: “In

death there is no remembrance of Thee: in the grave who shall give Thee

thanks?” and cxv, 17: “The dead praise not the Lord, neither any that

go down into silence; but _we_ praise the Lord.” See also Psalms xxx,

19; lxxxviii, 11.

Indeed the name for the Departed is Rephaim, “the limp, the powerless

ones.” Stade well says: “According to the ancient Israelitish

conception the entire human being, body and soul, outlasts death,

whilst losing all that makes life worth living. That which persists

in Sheol for all eternity is the form of man, emptied of all content.

Antique thought ignores as yet that there exists no such thing as a

form without substance. The conception has as little in common with

the conviction of the Immortality of the Soul, which found its chief

support in Greek ideas, as with the expectation of the Resurrection,

which grew out of the Jewish Messianic hope, or with the Christian

anticipation of Eternal Life, which is also based upon religious

motives.”[199]

Yet, with respect to this objection from the lateness of the doctrine,

we must not forget that fully consistent Monotheism and Monogamy are

also late, but not, on that account, less true or less precious; and

indeed that, as a universal rule, the human mind has acquired at all

adequate convictions as to most certain and precious truths but slowly

and haltingly. This process is manifest even in Astronomy, Geology,

Botany, Human Anatomy. It could not fail to be, not less but more

the case in a matter like this which, if it concerns us most deeply,

is yet both too close to us to be readily appreciated in its true

proportions, and too little a matter of mathematical demonstration

or of direct experience not to take much time to develop, and not to

demand an ever-renewed acquisition and purification, being, as it is,

the postulate and completion of man’s ethical and spiritual faiths, at

their deepest and fullest.

(3) And with regard to the unsatisfactory character of some of the

earliest manifestations of the belief, this point is brought home to

us, with startling vividness, in the beginnings of the doctrine in

ancient Greece. For Rhode’s very careful and competent examination of

precisely this side of the whole question shows conclusively (even

though I think, with Crusius, that he has overlooked certain rudiments

of analogous but healthy experiences and beliefs in pre-Dionysiac

Greece) how new and permanently effective a contribution to the full

doctrine was made, for the Hellenic world and hence indirectly for

all Western humanity, by the self-knowledge gained in that wildly

orgiastic upheaval, those dervish-like dances and ecstatic fits during

the Dionysian night-celebrations on the Thracian mountain-sides.

Indeed Rhode traces how from these experiences, partly from the

continuation of them, partly from the reaction against them, on the

part of the intensely dualistic and ascetic teaching and training of

the Orphic sect, there arose, and filtered through to Pythagoras, to

Plato, and to the whole Neo-Platonist school, the clear conception

and precise terminology concerning ecstatic, enthusiastic states,

the divinity and eternity of the human soul, its punitive lapse

into and imprisonment within the body, and its need of purification

throughout the earthly life and of liberation through death from this

its incurably accidental and impeding companion.--Thus we get here,

concerning one of the chief sources of at least the formulation of our

belief in Immortality, what looks a very nest of suspicious, repulsive

circumstances:--psycho-physical phenomena, which, quite explicable to,

and indeed explained by, us now as in nowise supernatural, could not

fail to appear portentous to those men who first experienced them;

unmoral or immoral attitudes and activities of mind and will; and

demonstrable excesses of feeling and conception as regards both the

static goodness, the downright divinity, eternity, and increateness

of the soul, and the unmixed evil of the body with its entirely

disconnected alongsideness to the soul. Does not all this spell a mass

of wild hallucination, impurity, fanaticism, and superstition?

Yet here again it behoves us, if not to accept, yet also not to reject,

in wholesale fashion and in haste. For the profoundly experienced

Professor Pierre Janet shows[200] us, what is now assumed as an axiom,

and as the ultimate justification of the present widespread interest

in the study of Hysteria, that “we must admit for the moral world the

great principle universally admitted for the physical world since

Claude Bernard,--viz. that the laws of illness are, at bottom, the

same as those of health, and that, in the former, there is but the

exaggeration or the diminution of phenomena which existed already in

the latter.”

And if thus our recent studies of morbid mentalities have been able

to throw a flood of light upon the mechanism and character of the

healthy mind, a mind more difficult to analyze precisely because

of the harmonious interaction of its forces, there is nothing very

surprising if man, in the past, learnt to know his own fundamental

nature better in and through periods of abnormal excitation than in

those of normal balance. And the resultant doctrines in the case in

question only required, and demand again and again, a careful pruning

and harmonizing to show forth an extraordinary volume of abiding

truth. The insuppressible difference between mind and matter, and the

distinction between the fully recollected soul (intuitive reason), and

explicit reasoning; the immeasurable superiority of mind over matter,

and the superiority of that full reason over this “thin” reasoning;

the certainty, involved in all our inevitable mental categories and

assumptions and in all our motives for action, of this mind and

intuition being more like the cause of all things than are those

other inferior realities and activities; the indestructibleness of

the postulates and standards of objective and infinite Beauty, Truth,

Goodness, of our consciousness of being intrinsically bound to them,

and of our inmost humanity and its relative greatness being measurable

by just this our consciousness of this our obligation, and hence

by the keenness of our sense of failure, and by our striving after

purification and the realization of our immanental possibilities: all

this remains deeply fruitful and true.

And those crude early experiences and analyses certainly point to

what, even now, are our most solid reasons for belief in Immortality:

for if man’s mind and soul can thus keenly suffer from the sense

of the contingency and mutability of all things directly observed

by it without and within, it must itself be, at least in part or

potentially, outside of this flux which it so vividly apprehends

as _not_ Permanence, _not_ Rest, _not_ true Life. Let us overlook,

then, and forgive the first tumultuous, childishly rude and clumsy,

mentally and emotionally hyper-aesthetic forms of apprehension of

these great spiritual facts and laws, forms which are not, after all,

more misleading than is the ordinary anaesthetic condition of our

apprehending faculties towards these fundamental forces and testimonies

of our lot and nature. Not the wholesale rejection, then, of even those

crude Dionysian witnessings, still less of the already more clarified

Orphic teaching, and least of all of Plato’s great utilizations and

spiritualizations can be required of us, but only a reinterpretation

of those first impressions and of mankind’s analogous experiences, and

a sifting and testing of the latter by the light of all that has been

deeply lived through, and seriously thought out, by spiritually awake

humanity ever since.--And we should remember that the history of the

doctrine among the Jews is, as has already been intimated, grandly free

from any such suspicious occasions and concomitances.

2. _Two Philosophical Difficulties._

Yet it is precisely this latter, social, body-and-soul-survival

doctrine which brings the second group of objections, the philosophical

difficulties, to clear articulation. For thus we are unavoidably driven

to one or other of the equally difficult alternatives, of a bodiless

life of the soul, and of a survival or resurrection of the body.

(1) Christianity, by its explicit teachings, and even more by its whole

drift and interior affinities, requires the survival of all that is

essential to the whole man, and conceives this whole as constituted,

not by thought alone but also by feeling and will and the power of

effectuation; so that the body, or some unpicturable equivalent to

it, seems necessary to this physico-spiritual, ultimately organic

conception of what man is and must continue to be, if he is to remain

man at all.--And Psychology, on its part, is showing us, more and more,

how astonishingly wide and deep is the dependence, at least for their

actuation, of the various functions and expressions of man’s character

and spirit upon his bodily frame. For not only is the reasoning

faculty seen, ever since Aristotle, to depend, for its material and

stimulation, upon the impressions of the senses, nor can we represent

it to ourselves otherwise than as seated in the brain or in some

such physical organism, but the interesting Lange-James observations

and theory make it likely that also the emotions,--the feelings as

distinct from sensations,--ever result, as a matter of fact, from

certain foregoing, physico-neural impressions and modifications, which

latter follow upon this or that perception of the mind, a perception

which would otherwise, as is the case in certain neural lesions and

anaesthesias, remain entirely dry and unemotional.[201]--And the

sense of the Infinite, which we have had such reason to take as the

very centre of religion, arises ever, within man’s life here below,

in contrast to, and as a concomitant and supplementation of, his

perception of the Finite and Contingent, and hence not without his

senses being alive and active.

Now all this fits in admirably with the whole Jewish-Christian respect

for, high claims upon, and constant training of the body, the senses,

the emotions, and with the importance attached to the Visible and

Audible,--History, Institutions, Society.--Yet our difficulties are

clear. For however spiritually we may conceive a bodily survival or

resurrection; however completely we may place the identity of the

various stages of the body in this life, and the sameness between

the body before death and after the resurrection, in the identity of

its quasi-creator, the body-weaving soul, we can in nowise picture

to ourselves such a new, indefinitely more spiritual, incorporation,

and we bring upon ourselves acute difficulties, for both before and

after this unpicturable event. Before the resurrection there would

have to be unconsciousness between death and that event; but thus

the future life is broken up, and for no spiritual reason. Or there

would be consciousness; but then the substitute for the body, that

occasions this consciousness, would, apparently, render all further

revivification of the body unnecessary. And if we take the resurrection

as effected, we promptly feel how mixed and clumsy, how inadequate,

how less, and not more, than the best and noblest elements of our

experience and aspirations even here and now, is such a, still

essentially temporal and spacial, mode of existence.

I take it that, against all this, we can but continue to maintain

two points. The soul’s life after bodily death is not a matter of

experience or of logical demonstration, but a postulate of faith and a

consequence from our realization of the human spirit’s worth; and hence

is as little capable of being satisfactorily pictured, as are all the

other great spiritual realities which can nevertheless be shown to be

presupposed and implicitly affirmed by every act of faith in the final

truth and abiding importance of anything whatsoever.--And again, it is

not worth while to attempt to rescue, Aristotle-wise, just that single,

and doubtless not the highest, function of man’s spirit and character,

his dialectic faculty, or even his intellectual intuitive power, for

the purpose of thus escaping, or at least minimizing, the difficulties

attendant upon the belief in Immortality. If we postulate, as we do,

man’s survival, we must postulate, without being able to fill in or to

justify any details of the scheme, the survival of all that may and

does constitute man’s true and ultimate personality. How much or how

little this may precisely mean, we evidently know but very imperfectly:

but we know enough to be confident that it means more than the

abstractive, increasingly dualistic school of Plato, Philo, Plotinus,

Proclus would allow.

(2) But speculative reason seems also to raise a quite general

objection, based upon man’s littleness within the immense Universe, and

upon the arbitrariness of excepting those tiny points, those centres of

human consciousness, men’s souls, from the flux, the ceaseless becoming

and undoing, of all the other parts of that mighty whole, immortal,

surely, only _as_ a whole.

Here we can safely say that, at least in this precise form, the

difficulty springs predominantly not from reason or experience, but

from an untutored imagination. For all our knowledge of that great

external world, which this objection supposes to englobe our small

internal world, as a part inferior, or at most but equal, to the other

parts of that whole, is dependent upon this interior world of ours; and

however truly inherent in that external world we may hold that world’s

laws to be, those laws can, after all, be shown to be as truly the

result of our own mind’s spontaneous work,--an architectonic building

up by this mind of the sense-impressions conveyed to it from without.

And that whole Universe, in so far as it is material, cannot be

compared, either in kind or in dignity, to Mind: only the indications

there, parallel in this to our experiences within our own mind, of a

Mind and Spirit infinitely greater and nobler than, yet with a certain

affinity to, our own,--only these constitute that outer world as great

as this our inner world. Indeed it is plain that Materialism is so

far from constituting the solution to the problem of existence, that

even Psycho-Physical Parallelism, even the attribution of any ultimate

reality to Matter, are on their trial. It is anyhow already clear that,

of the two, it is easier and nearer to the truth to maintain that

Matter and its categories are simply modes in the manifestation of Mind

to minds and in the apprehension of Mind by minds, than to declare Mind

to be but a function or resultant of Matter.[202]

But if all this is so, then no simply sensible predominance of the

sensible Universe, nor even any ascertainment of the mere flux and

interchange of and between all things material and their elements,

can reasonably affect the question as to the superiority and

permanence of Mind. But we shall return, in the next chapter, to the

difficulties special to the Immortality of individual human spirits or

personalities,--for this is, I think, the point at which the problem is

still acute.

3. _Three Ethico-Practical Difficulties._

The last group of objections is directly practical and ethical, and

raises three points: the small space and influence occupied and

exercised, apparently, by such a belief, in the spiritual life of even

serious persons; the seemingly selfish, ungenerous type of religion and

of moral tone fostered by definite belief in, or at least occupation

with, the thought of an individual future life, as contrasted with the

nobility of tone engendered by such denials or abstractions from all

such beliefs as we find in Spinoza and Schleiermacher; and, finally,

the plausibility of the teaching, on the part of some distinguished

thinkers and poets, that a positive conviction of this our short

earthly life being the sole span of our individual consciousness

is directly productive of a certain deep tenderness, an heroic

concentration of attention, and a virile truthfulness, which are

unattainable, which indeed are weakened or rendered impossible by,

the necessarily vague anticipation of an unending future life; a hope

which, where operative at all, can but dwarf and deaden all earthly

aspiration and endeavour.

(1) As to the first point, which has perhaps never been more

brilliantly affirmed than by Mr. Schiller,[203] I altogether doubt

whether the numerous appearances, which admittedly seem to point that

way, are rightly interpreted by such a conclusion. For it is, for one

thing, most certainly possible to be deeply convinced of the reality

and importance of the soul’s heightened after-life, and to have no

kind of belief or interest in Psychical Research, at least in such

Research as an intrinsically valuable aid to any specifically religious

convictions. No aloofness from such attempts to find spiritual

realities at the phenomenal level can, (unless it is clear that the

majority of educated Western Europeans share the naïve assumptions of

this position), indicate negation of, or indifference to, the belief in

Immortality.--And next, it is equally certain that precisely the most

fruitful form of the belief is that which conceives the After-life as

already involved in this one, and which, therefore, dwells specially,

not upon the posteriority in time, but upon the difference in kind

of that spiritual life of the soul which, even _hic et nunc_, can be

sought after and experienced, in ever imperfect degrees no doubt, yet

really and more and more. Here we ever get an approach to Simultaneity

and Eternity, instead of sheer succession and clock-time: and here

the fundamental attitude of the believer would appear only if pressed

to deny or exclude the deathlessness of the spirit and its life,--the

usual latency and simple implication of the positive conviction, in

nowise diminishing this conviction’s reality.--And, finally, it would

have to be seen whether those who are indifferent or sceptical as to

Immortal or Eternal Life, are appreciably fewer and largely other

than those who are careless as to the other deep implications and

requirements of spiritual experience. We may well doubt whether they

would turn out to be so.

(2) As to the second point, we have already found how utterly

insuppressible is the pleasure, normally concomitant upon every act of

noble self-conquest; and how, though we can and should perform such

and all other acts, as far as possible, from the ultimate, determining

motive of thereby furthering the realization of the Kingdom of God,

there can be no solid truthfulness or sane nobility in insisting upon

attempts at thinking away and denying the fact and utility of that

concomitant pleasure. But if so, then a further, other-world extension

of that realization and of this concomitant happiness, and a belief

here below in such an eventual extension, cannot of themselves be

ignoble or debasing. Occasions for every degree and kind of purely

selfish and faultily natural acts, of acts inchoatively supernatural

but still predominantly slavish, reappear here, in close parallel to

the variety of disposition displayed by men towards every kind of

reality and ideal, towards the Family, Science, the State, Humanity,

where the same concomitances and the same high uses and mean abuses are

ever possible and actual. Neither here nor there should we attempt to

impoverish truth and life, in order to exclude the possibility of their

abuse.--And it would, of course, be profoundly unfair to contrast such

a rarely noble spirit as Spinoza among the deniers with the average

mind from among the affirmers. The average or the majority of the

deniers would not, I think, appear as more generous and devoted than

the corresponding average or majority on the other side.

(3) And as to the supposed directly beneficial effects of a positive

denial of Immortality, such as have been sung for us by George

Eliot and Giovanni Pascoli, we can safely affirm that the special

tendernesses and quiet heroisms, deduced by them from such a negation,

are too obviously dependent upon spiritual implications and instincts,

for us to be able to put them directly to the credit of that denial.

Only in so far as Immortality were not a postulate intrinsically

connected with belief in objective and obligatory Beauty, Truth, and

Goodness,--in God as our origin and end,--could its persistent and

deliberate denial not be injurious to these fundamental convictions

and to the ultimate health of the soul’s life: and of this intrinsic

non-connection there is no sufficient evidence.--Certainly, in such

a case as Spinoza’s, the same strain of reasoning which makes him

abandon individual Immortality Ought, in logic, to prevent him, a

mere hopelessly determined link in the _Natura Naturata_, from ever

attaining to the free self-dedication of himself, as now a fully

responsible member of the _Natura Naturans_. And if not all the grand

depth of his spiritual instinct and moral nobility, and its persistence

in spite of its having no logical room in the fixedly naturalistic

element of his teaching, can be urged as an argument in favour of the

ultimate truth and ethical helpfulness of that whole element, neither

can it be urged with respect to what is presumably one part of that

element, his denial of personal Immortality.

II. CATHERINE’S GENERAL AFTER-LIFE CONCEPTIONS.

Now Catherine’s general After-Life Conceptions in part bring into

interesting prominence, in part really meet and overcome, the

perplexities and mutually destructive alternatives which we have just

considered. I shall here again leave over to the next chapter the

simply ultimate questions, such as that of the pure Eternity _versus_

the Unendingness of the soul; but shall allow myself, as to one set

of her general ideas, a little digression as to the probability of

their ultimate literary suggestion by Plato.--These Platonic passages

probably reached her too indirectly, and by means and in forms which I

have too entirely failed to discover, for me to be able to discuss them

in my chapter devoted to her assured and demonstrably direct literary

sources. But these sayings of Plato greatly help to illustrate the

meaning of her doctrine.--I shall group these, her general, positions

and implications under four heads, and shall consider three of these

as, in substance, profoundly satisfactory, but one of them, the second,

as acceptable only with many limitations, although this second has

obviously much influenced the form given by her to several of those

other conceptions.

1. _Forecasts of the Hereafter, based upon present experience._

First, then, we get, as the fundamental presupposition of the

whole Eschatology, a grandly sane, simple, and profound doctrine

formulated over and over again and applied throughout, with a splendid

consistency, as the key and limit to all her anticipations and

picturings. Only because of the fact, and of our conviction of the

fact, of the unbroken continuity and identity of God with Himself,

of the human soul with itself, and of the deepest of the relations

subsisting between that God and the soul, across the chasm formed by

our body’s death, and only in proportion as we can and do experience

and achieve, during this our earthly life, certain spiritual laws and

realities of a sufficiently elemental, universal, and fruitful, more or

less time- and space-less character, can we (whilst ever remembering

the analogical nature of such picturings even as to the soul’s life

here) safely and profitably forecast certain general features of the

future which is thus already so largely a present. But, given these

conditions in the present, we can and should forecast the future,

to the extent implied. And as Plato’s great imaginative projection,

his life-work, the _Republic_, achieves its original end, (of making

more readily understandable, by objectivizing on a large scale, the

life of the inner city of our own soul), in so far as he has rightly

understood the human soul and has found appropriate representations

of its powers, laws, and ideals in his future commonwealth, even

if we cannot accept this picture for political purposes and in all

its details: so is it also with Catherine’s projection, which, if

bolder in its subject-matter, is, most rightly, indefinitely more

general in its indications than is Plato’s great diagram of the soul.

Man’s spiritual personality, being held by her to survive death,--to

retain its identity and an at least equivalent consciousness, of that

identity,--the deepest experiences of that personality before the

body’s death are conceived as re-experienced by it, in a heightened

degree and form, after death itself. Hence these great pictures, of

what the soul will experience then, would remain profoundly true of

what the soul seeks and requires now, even if there were no _then_ at

all.

And note particularly how only with regard to one stage and condition

of the spirit’s future life,--that of the purification of the imperfect

soul,--does she indulge in any at all direct doctrine or detailed

picturing; and this, doubtless, not only because she has experienced

much concerning this matter in her own life here, but also because

the projection of these experiences would still give us, not the

ultimate state, but more or less only a prolongation of our mixed,

joy-in-suffering life upon earth. As to the two ultimate states, we get

only quite incidental glimpses, although even these are strongly marked

by her general position and method.

2. _Catherine’s forecasts and present experience correspondingly

limited._

And next, coming to the projection itself, we naturally find it

to present all the strength and limitations of her own spiritual

experiences which are thus projected: her attitude towards the body

and towards human fellowship, (two subjects which are shown to be

closely inter-related by the continuous manner in which they stand

and fall together throughout the history of philosophy and religion,)

thus constitute the second general peculiarity of her Eschatology. We

have already noted, in her life, her strongly ecstatic, body-ignoring,

body-escaping type of religion; and how, even in her case, it tended to

starve the corporate, institutional conceptions and affections. Here,

in the projection, we find both the cause and the effect again, and on

a larger scale. Her continuous psycho-physical discomforts and keen

thirst for a unity and simplicity as rapid and complete as possible,

the joy and strength derived from ecstatic habits and affinities, would

all make her, without even herself being aware of it, drop all further

thought as to the future fate of that oppressive “prison-house” from

which her spirit had at last got free.

Now such non-occupation with the fate of the body and of her

fellow-souls may appear quite appropriate in her Purgatorial

Eschatology, yet we cannot but find that, even here, it already

possesses grave disadvantages, and that it persists throughout all her

After-life conceptions. For in all the states and stages of the soul we

get a markedly unsocial, a _sola cum solo_ picture. And yet there is,

perhaps, no more striking difference, amongst their many affinities,

between Platonism and Christianity than the intense Individualism

which marks the great Greek’s doctrine, and the profoundly social

conception which pervades Our Lord’s own teaching,--in each case as

regards the next life as well as this one. Plotinus’s great culminating

commendation of “the flight of the alone to the Alone” continues

Plato’s tradition; whereas, if even St. Paul and the Joannine writings

speak at times as though the individual soul attained to its full

personality in and by direct intercourse with God alone, the Synoptic

Gospels, and at bottom also those two great lovers of Our Lord’s

spirit, never cease to emphasize the social constituent of the soul’s

life both here and hereafter. The Kingdom of Heaven, the Soul of

the Church, as truly constitutes the different personalities, their

spirituality and their joy, as they constitute it,--that great Organism

which, as such, is both first and last in the Divine thought and love.

Here, in the at least partial ignoring of these great social facts,

we touch the main defect of most mystical outlooks; yet this defect

does not arise from what they possess, but from what they lack. For

solitude, and the abstractive, unifying, intuitive, emotional, mystical

element is also wanted, and this element and movement Catherine

exemplifies in rare perfection. Indeed, in the great classical,

central period of her life she had, as we know, combined all this

with much of the outward movement, society, detailed observation,

attachment, the morally _en-static_, the immanental type. Unfortunately

the same ill-health and ever-increasing predominance of the former

element, which turned her, quite naturally, to these eschatological

contemplations, and which indeed helped to give them their touching

tone of first-hand experience, also tended, of necessity, to make her

drop even such slight and lingering social elements as had formerly

coloured her thought. It is, then, only towards the understanding and

deepening of the former of these two necessary movements of religion,

that these, her latter-day enlargements of some of her deepest

experiences and convictions will be found true helps.

Yet if the usual _ad extra_ disadvantages of such an abstractive

position towards the body are thus exemplified by her, in this her

unsocial, individualistic attitude, it is most interesting to note

how entirely she avoids the usual _ad intra_ drawbacks of this same

position. For if her whole attention, and, increasingly, even her

consciousness are, in true ecstatic guise, absorbed away from her

fellows and concentrated exclusively upon God in herself and herself

in God, yet this consciousness consists not only of _Noûs_, that dry

theoretic reason which, already by Plato, but still more by Aristotle,

is alone conceived as surviving the body, but contains also the upper

range of _Thumos_,--all those passions of the noblest kind,--love,

admiration, gratitude, utter self-donation, joy in purifying suffering

and in an ever-growing self-realization as part of the great plan of

God,--all the highest notes in that wondrous scale of deep feeling and

of emotionally coloured willing which Plato made dependent, not for its

character but for the possibility of its operation, upon the body’s

union with the soul.--And thus we see how, in her conception of the

soul’s own self within itself and of its relation to God, the Christian

idea of Personality, as of a many-sided organism in which Love and

Will are the very flower of the whole, has triumphed over the Platonic

presentation of the Spirit, in so far as this is taken to require and

achieve an ultimate sublimation free from all emotive elements. Thus

in her doctrine the whole Personality survives death, although this

Personality energizes only, as it were upwards, to God alone, and

not also sideways and downwards, towards its fellows and the lesser

children of God.

3. _Catherine’s forecast influenced by Plato._

Catherine’s third peculiarity consists in a rich and profound

organization of two doctrines, the one libertarian, the other

determinist; and requires considerable quotation from Plato, whose

teachings, bereft of all transmigration-fancies, seem clearly to

reappear here, (however complex may have been the mediation,) in

Catherine’s great conception.

The determinist doctrine maintains that virtue and vice, in proportion

as they are allowed their full development, spontaneously and

necessarily attain to their own congenital consummation, a consummation

which consists, respectively, in the bliss inseparable from the final

and complete identity between the inevitable results upon itself of

the soul’s deliberate endeavours, and the indestructible requirements

of this same soul’s fundamental nature; and in the misery of the, now

fully felt but only gradually superable, or even, in other cases,

insuperable, antagonism between the inevitable consequences within its

own self of the soul’s more or less deliberate choosings, and those

same, here also ineradicable, demands of its own truest nature.

As Marsilio Ficino says, in his _Theologia Platonica_, published in

Florence in 1482: “Virtue is reward in its first budding, reward is

virtue full-grown. Vice is punishment at the moment of its birth;

punishment is vice at its consummation. For, in each of these cases,

one and the same thing is first the simple seed and then the full ear

of corn; and one and the same thing is the full ear of corn and then

the food of man. Precisely the very things then that we sow in this our

(earthly) autumn, shall we reap in that (other-world) summer-day.”[204]

It is true that forensic terms and images are also not wanting in

Catherine’s sayings; but these, in part, run simply parallel to the

immanental conception without modifying it; in part, they are in

its service; and, in part, they are the work of the theologians’

arrangements and glosses discussed in my Appendix.

And the libertarian doctrine declares that it is the soul itself which,

in the beyond and immediately after death, chooses the least painful,

because the most expressive of her then actual desires, from among the

states which the natural effects upon her own self of her own earthly

choosings have left her interiorly free to choose.

Now it is in this second doctrine especially that we find so detailed

an anticipation by Plato of a whole number of highly original and

characteristic points and combinations of points, as to render a

fortuitous concurrence between Catherine and Plato practically

impossible. Yet I have sought in vain, among Catherine’s authentic

sayings, actions, possessions, or friends, for any trace of direct

acquaintance with any of Plato’s writings. But Ficino’s Latin

translation of Plato, published, with immense applause, in Florence in

1483, 1484, must have been known, in those intensely Platonizing times,

to even non-professed Humanists in Genoa, long before Catherine’s death

in 1510, so that one or other of her intimates may have communicated

the substance of these Platonic doctrines to her.[205] Plotinus, of

whom Ficino published a Latin translation in 1492, contains but a

feeble echo of Plato on this point. Proclus, directly known only very

little till much after Catherine’s time, is in even worse case. The

Areopagite, who has so continuously taken over whole passages from

all three writers, although directly almost exclusively from Proclus,

contains nothing more immediately to the purpose than his impressive

sayings concerning Providence’s continuous non-forcing of the human

personality in its fundamental constitution and its free elections with

their inevitable consequences; hence Catherine cannot have derived her

ideas, in the crisp definiteness which they retain in her sayings, from

her cousin the Dominican nun and the Areopagite. And it is certain, as

we have seen, how scattered and inchoate are the hints which she may

have found in St. Paul, the Joannine writings, and Jacopone da Todi.

St. Augustine contains nothing that would be directly available,--an

otherwise likely source considering Catherine’s close connection with

the Augustinian Canonesses of S. Maria delle Grazie.

In Plato, then, we get five conceptions and symbolic pictures that are

practically identical with those of Catherine.

(1) First we get the conception of souls having each, in exact

accordance with the respective differences of their moral and spiritual

disposition and character, as these have been constituted by them here

below, a “place” or environment, expressive of that character, ready

for their occupation after the body’s death. “The soul that is pure

departs at death, herself invisible, to the invisible world,--to the

divine, immortal and rational: thither arriving, she lives in bliss.

But the soul that is impure at the time of her departure and is …

engrossed by the corporeal …, is weighed down and drawn back again into

the visible place (world).”

And this scheme, of like disposition seeking a like place, is then

carried out, by the help of the theory of transmigration, as a

re-incarnation of these various characters into environments, bodies,

exactly corresponding to them: gluttonous souls are assigned to asses’

bodies, tyrannous souls to those of wolves, and so on: in a word,

“there is no difficulty in assigning to all ‘a whither’ (a place)

answering to their general natures and propensities.”[206] For this

corresponds to a law which runs throughout all things,--a determinism

of consequences which does not prevent the liberty of causes. “The King

of the universe contrived a general plan, by which a thing of a certain

nature found a seat and place of a certain kind. But the formation of

this nature, he left to the wills of individuals.”

Or, with the further spacial imagery of movements up, level, or down,

we get: “All things that have a soul change … and, in changing, move

according to law and the order of destiny. Lesser changes of nature

move on level ground, but great crimes sink … into the so-called lower

places …; and, when the soul becomes greatly different and divine, she

also greatly changes her place, which is now altogether holy.”[207] The

original, divinely intended “places” of souls are all high and good,

and similar to each other though not identical, each soul having its

own special “place”; and for this congenital “place” each soul has a

resistible yet ineradicable home-sickness. “The first incarnation” of

human souls which “distributes each soul to a star,” is ordained to

be similar for all.… “And when they have been of necessity implanted

in bodily forms, should they master their passions … they live in

righteousness; if otherwise, in unrighteousness. And he who lived well

through his allotted time shall be conveyed once more to a habitation

in his kindred star, and there shall enjoy a blissful and congenial

life; but failing this he shall pass into … such a form of (further)

incarnation as fits his disposition … until he shall overcome, by

reason, all that burthen that afterwards clung around him.”[208]

If from all this we exclude the soul’s existence before any

beginning of its body, its transmigration into other bodies, and the

self-sufficiency of reason; and if we make it all to be penetrated

by God’s presence, grace, and love, and by our corresponding or

conflicting emotional and volitional as well as intellectual attitude:

we shall get Catherine’s position exactly.

(2) But again, in at least one phase of his thinking, Plato pictures

the purification of the imperfect soul as effected, of at least as

begun, not in a succession of “places” of an extensionally small but

organic kind, bodies, but in a “place” of an extensionally larger but

inorganic sort,--the shore of a lake, where the soul has to wait.

“The Acherusian lake is the lake to the shores of which the many go

when they are dead; and, after waiting an appointed time, which to

some is longer and to others shorter, they are sent back to be born

as animals.” Here we evidently get a survival of the conception,

predominant in Homer, of a pain-and-joyless Hades, but limited here to

the middle, the imperfect class of souls, and followed, in their case,

by transmigration, to which alone, apparently, purification is directly

attached.

In the same Dialogue we read later on: “Those who appear to have lived

neither well nor ill … go to the river Acheron, and are carried to the

lake; and there they dwell and are purified of their evil deeds … and

are absolved and receive the rewards of their good deeds according to

their deserts.” Here we have, evidently, still the same “many” and the

same place, the shores of the Acherusian lake, but also an explicit

affirmation of purification effected there, for this purification is

now followed directly, not by re-incarnation, but by the ultimate

happiness in the soul’s original and fundamentally congenial “place.”

And this scheme is far more conformable to Plato’s fundamental

position: for how can bodies, even lower than the human, help to purify

the soul which has become impure precisely on occasion of its human

body?--We can see how the Christian Purgatorial doctrine derives some

of its pictures from the second of these parallel passages; yet that

the “longer or shorter waiting” of the first passage also enters into

that teaching,--especially in its more ordinary modern form, according

to which there is, in this state, no intrinsic purification.

And lower down we find: “Those who have committed crimes which,

although great, are not unpardonable,--for these it is necessary to

plunge (ἐμπεσεῖν) into Tartarus, the pains of which they are compelled

to undergo for a year; but at the end of the year they are borne to

the Acherusian lake. But those who appear incurable by reason of the

greatness of their crimes … such their appropriate destiny hurls

(ῤίπτει) into Tartarus, whence they never come forth.” Here we get a

Purgatory, pictured as a watery substance in which the more gravely

impure of the curable souls are immersed before arriving at the easier

purification, the waiting on the dry land alongside the lake; this

Purgatory is, as a “place” and, in intensity, identical with Hell; and

into this place the curable souls “plunge” and the incurable ones are

“hurled.”--Of this third passage Catherine retains the identification

of the pains of Purgatory and those of Hell; the “plunge,” or

“hurling,” of two distinct classes of souls into these pains; and

the mitigation, after a time, previous to complete cessation, of the

suffering in the case of the curable class. But the “plunge,” with her,

is common to all degrees of imperfectly pure souls; there is, for all

these souls, no change of “place” during their purgation, but only a

mitigation of suffering; and this mitigation is at work gradually and

from the first. And the ordinary modern Purgatorial teaching is like

this passage, in that it keeps the curable souls in Tartarus, say, for

one year, and lets them suffer there, apparently without mitigation,

throughout that time: and that, in the case of both classes of souls,

it conceives the punishment as extrinsic, vindictive, and inoperative.

And a fourth _Phaedo_ passage tells us: “Those who are remarkable for

having led holy lives are released from this earthly prison, and go

to their pure home, which is above, and dwell in the purer earth,”

the Isles of the Just, in Oceanus. “And those, again, amongst these

who have duly purified themselves with philosophy, live henceforth

altogether without the body, in mansions fairer far than these.” Here

we get, alongside of the two Purgatories and the one Hell, two Heavens,

of which the first is but taken over from Homer and Pindar, but of

which the second is Plato’s own conception. Catherine, in entire accord

with the ordinary teaching, has got but one “place” of each kind; and

her Heaven corresponds, apart from his formal and final exclusion of

every sort of body, to the second of these Platonic Heavens; whilst,

here again, the all-encompassing presence of God’s love for souls as

of the soul’s love for God, which, in her teaching, is the beginning,

means, and end of the whole movement, effects an indefinite difference

between the two positions.[209]

(3) Yet Plato, in his most characteristic moods, explicitly anticipates

Catherine as to the intrinsic, ameliorative nature and work of

Purgatory: “The proper office of punishment is two-fold: he who

is rightly punished ought either to become better … by it, or he

ought to be made an example to his fellows, that they may see what

he suffers and … become better. Those who are punished by Gods and

men and improved, are those whose sins are curable … by pain and

suffering:--for there is no other way in which they can be delivered

from evil, as in this world so also in the other. But the others are

incurable--the time has passed at which they can receive any benefit

themselves.… Rhadamanthus,” the chief of the three nether-world judges,

“looks with admiration on the soul of some just one, who has lived in

holiness and truth … and sends him” without any intervening suffering

“to the Isles of the Blessed.… I consider how I shall present my soul

whole and undefiled before the Judge, in that day.”[210] Here the last

sentence is strikingly like in form as well as in spirit to many a

saying of St. Paul and Catherine.

(4) But the following most original passages give us a sentiment and an

image which, in their special drift, are as opposed to St. Paul, and

indeed to the ordinary Christian consciousness, as they are dear to

Catherine, in this matter so strongly, although probably unconsciously,

Platonist, indeed Neo-Platonist, in her affinities. “In the time of

Kronos, indeed down to that of Zeus, the Judgment was given on the day

on which men were to die,” _i.e._ immediately _before_ their death;

“and the consequence was, that the judgments were not well given,--the

souls found their way to the wrong places. Zeus said: ‘The reason is,

that the judged have their clothes on, for they are alive.… There are

many, having evil souls, who are apparelled in fair bodies or wrapt

round in wealth and rank.… The Judges are awed by them; and they

themselves too have their clothes on when judging: their eyes and

ears and their whole bodies are interposed, as a veil, before their

own souls. What is to be done? … Men shall be entirely stript before

they are judged, for they shall be judged when dead; the Judge too

shall be naked, that is, dead: he, with his naked soul, shall pierce

into the other naked soul immediately _after_ each man dies … and is

bereft of all his kith and kin, and has left behind him all his brave

attire upon earth, and thus the Judgment will be just.’”[211]--If we

compare this with St. Paul’s precisely contrary instinct and desire to

be “clothed upon” at death, “lest we be found naked,” i.e. without the

protection of any kind of body; and then realize Catherine’s intense

longing for “nudità,”--to strip herself here, as far as possible, from

all imperfection and self-delusion before the final stripping off of

the body in death, and to appear, utterly naked, before the utterly

naked eye of God, so that no “clothes” should remain requiring to

be burnt away by the purifying fires,[212] the profound affinity of

sentiment and imagery between Catherine and Plato--and this on a point

essentially Platonic,--is very striking.

(5) But, above all, in his deep doctrine as to the soul’s spontaneous

choice after death of that condition, “place,” which, owing to the

natural effects within her of her earthly willings and self-formation,

she cannot but now find the most congenial to herself, Plato appears as

the ultimate source of a literary kind for Catherine’s most original

view, which otherwise is, I think, without predecessors. “The souls,”

he tells us in the _Republic_, “immediately on their arrival in the

other world, were required to go to Lachesis,” one of the three Fates.

And “an interpreter, having taken from her lap a number of lots and

plans of life, spoke as follows: ‘Thus saith Lachesis, the daughter of

Necessity.… “Your destiny shall not be allotted to you, but you shall

choose it for yourselves. Let him who draws the first lot, be the first

to choose a life which shall be his irrevocably.… The responsibility

lies with the chooser, Heaven is guiltless.”’” “No settled character

of soul was included in the plans of life, because, with the change

of life, the soul inevitably became changed itself.” “It was a truly

wonderful sight, to watch how each soul selected its life.… When all

the souls had chosen their lives, Lachesis dispatched with each of

them the Destiny he had selected, to guard his life and satisfy his

choice.”[213] And in the _Phaedrus_ Plato tells us that “at the end of

the first thousand years” (of the first incarnation) “the good souls

and also the evil souls both come to cast lots and to choose their

second life; and they may take any that they like.”[214]

In both the dialogues the lots are evidently taken over from popular

mythology, but are here made merely to introduce a certain orderly

succession among the spontaneous choosings of the souls themselves,

whilst the lap of the daughter of Necessity, spread out before all

the choosers previous to their choice, and the separate, specially

appropriate Destiny that accompanies each soul after its choice,

indicate plainly that, although the choice itself is the free act

and pure self-expression of each soul’s then present disposition,

yet that this disposition is the necessary result of its earthly

volitions and self-development or self-deformation, and that the

choice now made becomes, in its turn, the cause of certain inevitable

consequences,--of a special environment which itself is then productive

of special effects upon, and of special occasions for, the final

working out of this soul’s character.--Plotinus retains the doctrine:

“the soul chooses there” in the Other world,--“its Daemon and its kind

of life.”[215] But neither Proclus nor Dionysius has the doctrine,

whilst Catherine, on the contrary, reproduces it with a penetrating

completeness.

4. _Simplifications characteristic of Catherine’s Eschatology._

And under our last, fourth head, we can group the simplifications

characteristic of Catherine’s Eschatology.

(1) One simplification has, of course, for now some fifteen hundred

years, been the ordinary Christian conception: I mean the elimination

of the time-element between the moment of death and the beginning of

the three states. Yet it is interesting to note how by far the greatest

of the Latin Fathers, St. Augustine, who died in A.D. 430, still clings

predominantly to the older Christian and Jewish conception of the soul

abiding in a state of shrunken, joy-and-painless consciousness from

the moment of the body’s death up to that of the general resurrection

and judgment. “After this short life, thou wilt not yet be where the

saints will be,” _i.e._ in Heaven. “Thou wilt not yet be there: who

is ignorant of this? But thou canst straightway be where the rich

man descried the ulcerous beggar to be a-resting, far away,” _i.e._

in Limbo. “Placed in that rest, thou canst await the day of judgment

with security, when thou shalt receive thy body also, when thou shalt

be changed so as to be equal to an Angel.”[216] Only with regard to

Purgatory, a state held by him, in writings of his last years, 410-430

A.D., to be possible, indeed probable, does he make an exception to

his general rule: for such purification would have to take place” in

the interval of time between the death of the body and the last day of

condemnation and reward.”[217]

It is doubtless the still further fading away of the expectation, so

vivid and universal in early Christian times, of the proximity of Our

Lord’s Second Advent, and the tacit prevalence of Greek affinities and

conceptions concerning the bodiless soul, that helped to eliminate,

at last universally, this interval of waiting, in the case of souls

too good or too bad for purgation, from the general consciousness

of at least Western Christendom. The gain in this was the great

simplification and concentration of the immediate outlook and interest;

the loss was the diminished apprehension of the essentially complex,

concrete, synthetic character of man’s nature, and of the necessity for

our assuming that this characteristic will be somehow preserved in this

nature’s ultimate perfection.

(2) There is a second simplification in Catherine which, though here

St. Augustine leads the way, is less common among Christians: her three

other-world “places” are not, according to her ultimate thought, three

distinct spacial extensions and localities, filled, respectively, with

ceaselessly suffering, temporarily suffering, and ceaselessly blessed

souls; but they are, (notwithstanding all the terms necessitated by

such spacial picturings as “entering,” “coming out,” “plunging into”),

so many distinct states and conditions of the soul, of a painful,

mixed, or joyful character. We shall have these her ultimate ideas very

fully before us presently. But here I would only remark that this her

union of a picturing faculty, as vivid as the keenest sense-perception,

and of a complete non-enslavement to, a vigorous utilization of,

these life-like spacial projections, by a religious instinct and

experience which never forgets that God and souls are spirits, to whom

our ordinary categories of space and extension, time and motion, do

not and cannot in strictness apply, is as rare as it is admirable;

and that, though her intensely anti-corporeal and non-social attitude

made such a position more immediately easy for her than it can be for

those who remain keenly aware of the great truths involved in the

doctrines of the Resurrection of the Body and the Communion of Saints,

this her trend of thought brings into full articulation precisely the

deepest of our spiritual apprehensions and requirements, whilst it is

not her fault if it but further accentuates some of our intellectual

perplexities.

We get much in St. Augustine, which he himself declares to have

derived, in the first instance, from “the writings of the Platonists,”

which doubtless means above all Plotinus, (that keen spiritual thinker

who can so readily be traced throughout this part of the great

Convert’s teaching), as to this profound incommensurableness between

spiritual presence, energizing, and affectedness on the one hand, and

spacial position, extension, and movement on the other. “What place is

there within me, to which my God can come? … I would not exist at all,

unless Thou already wert within me.” “Thou wast never a place, and yet

we have receded from Thee; and we have drawn near to Thee, yet Thou

art never a place.” “ Are we submerged and do we emerge? Yet it is not

places into which we are plunged and out of which we rise. What can be

more like to places and yet more unlike? For here the affections are in

case,--the impurity of our spirit, which flows downwards, oppressed by

the love of earthly cares; and the holiness of Thy Spirit, which lifts

us upwards with the love of security.”[218] For, as he teaches “the

spiritual creature can only be changed by times,”--a succession within

a duration: “by remembering what it had forgotten, or by learning

what it did not know, or by willing what it did not will. The bodily

creature can be changed by times and places,” by spacial motion, “from

earth to heaven, from heaven to earth, from east to west.” “That thing

is not moved through space which is not extended in space … the soul is

not considered to move in space, unless it be held to be a body.”[219]

In applying the doctrine just expressed to eschatological matters, St.

Augustine concludes: “If it be asked whether the soul, when it goes

forth from the body, is borne to some corporeal places, or to such as,

though incorporeal, are like to bodies, or to what is more excellent

than either: I readily answer that, unless it have some kind of body,

it is not borne to bodily places at all, or, at least, that it is not

borne to them by bodily motion.… But I myself do not think that it

possesses any body, when it goes forth from this earthly body.… It gets

borne, according to its deserts, to spiritual conditions, or to penal

places having a similitude to bodies.”[220]

The reader will readily note a curiously uncertain frame of mind

in this last utterance. I take it that Plotinian influences are

here being checked by the Jewish conception of certain, definitely

located, provision-chambers (_promptuaria_), in which all souls are

placed for safe keeping, between the time of the body’s death and its

resurrection. So in the Fourth Book of Esra (of about 90 A.D.), “the

souls of the just in their chambers said: ‘How long are we to remain

here?’”; and in the Apocalypse of Baruch (of about 150-250 A.D.), “at

the coming of the Messiah, the provision-chambers will open, in which

the” whole, precise “number of the souls of the just have been kept,

and they will come forth.”[221]

But it is St. Thomas Aquinas who, by the explicit and consistent

adoption and classification of these _promptuaria receptacula_, reveals

to us more clearly the perplexities and fancifulnesses involved in

the strictly spacial conception. “Although bodies are not assigned

to souls (immediately) after death, yet certain bodily places are

congruously assigned to these souls in accordance with the degree of

their dignity, in which places they are, as it were, locally, in the

manner in which bodiless things can be in space: each soul having a

higher place assigned to it, according as it approaches more or less

to the first substance, God, whose seat, according to Scripture, is

Heaven.” “In the Scriptures God is called the Sun, since He is the

principle of spiritual life, as the physical sun is of bodily life;

and, according to this convention, … souls spiritually illuminated have

a greater fitness for luminous bodies, and sin-darkened souls for dark

places.” “It is probable that, as to local position, Hell and the Limbo

of the Fathers constitute one and the same place, or are more or less

continuous.” “The place of Purgatory adjoins (that of) Hell.” “There

are altogether five places ready to receive (_receptanda_) souls bereft

of their bodies: Paradise, the Limbo of the Fathers, Purgatory, Hell,

and the Limbo of Infants.”[222]

No doubt all these positions became the common scholastic teaching. But

then, as Cardinal Bellarmine cogently points out: “no ancient, as far

as I know, has written that the Earthly Paradise was destroyed … and I

have read a large number who affirm its existence. This is the doctrine

of all the Scholastics, beginning with St. Thomas, and of the Fathers.

… St. Augustine indeed appears to rank this truth amongst the dogmas

of faith.”[223] We shall do well, then, not to press these literal

localization-schemes, especially since, according to St. Augustine’s

penetrating analysis, our spiritual experiences, already in this our

earthly existence, have a distinctly non-spacial character. Catherine’s

position, if applied to the central life of man here, and hence

presumptively hereafter, remains as true and fresh and unassailable as

ever.

(3) And her last simplification consists in taking the Fire of Hell,

the Fire of Purgatory, and the Fire and Light of Heaven as profoundly

appropriate symbols or descriptions of the variously painful or joyous

impressions produced, through the differing volitional attitudes of

souls towards Him, by the one God’s intrinsically identical presence

in each and all. In all three cases, throughout their several grades,

there are ever but two realities, the Spirit-God and the spirit-soul,

in various states of inter-relation.

Here again it is Catherine’s complete abstraction from the body which

renders such a view easy and, in a manner, necessary for her mind. But

here I would only emphasize the impressive simplicity and spirituality

of view which thus, as in the material world it finds the one sun-light

and the one fire-heat, which, in themselves everywhere the same, vary

indefinitely in their effects, owing to the varying condition of the

different bodies which meet the rays and flames; so, in the Spiritual

World it discovers One supreme spiritual Energy and Influence which,

whilst ever self-identical, is assimilated, deflected, or resisted by

the lesser spirits, with inevitably joyous, mixed, or painful states

of soul, since they can each and all resist, but cannot eradicate that

Energy’s impression within their deepest selves. And though, even with

her, the Sun-light image remains quasi-Hellenic and Intellectual, and

the Fire-heat picture is more immediately Christian and Moral: yet

she also frequently takes the sunlight as the symbol of the achieved

Harmony and Peace, and the Fire-heat as that of more or less persisting

Conflict and Pain. She is doubtless right in keeping both symbols, and

in ever thinking of each as ultimately implying the other, for God is

Beauty and Truth, as well as Goodness and Love, and man is made with

the indestructible aspiration after Him in His living completeness.

And here again Catherine has a complicated doctrinal history behind her.

We have already considered the numerous Scriptural passages where

God and His effects upon the soul are symbolized as light and fire;

and those again where joy or, contrariwise, trial and suffering are

respectively pictured by the same physical properties. And Catherine

takes the latter passages as directly explanatory of the first, in

so far as these joys and sufferings are spiritual in their causes or

effects.

Among the Greek Fathers, Clement of Alexandria tells us that “the Fire”

of Purgatory,--for he has no Eternal Damnation,--“is a rational,”

spiritual, “fire that penetrates the soul”; and Origen teaches that

“each sinner himself lights the flame of his own fire, and is not

thrown into a fire that has been lit before that moment and that exists

in front of him.… His conscience is agitated and pierced by its own

pricks.” Saints Gregory of Nyssa and Gregory of Nazianzum are more or

less influenced by Origen on this point. And St. John Damascene, who

died in about 750 A.D., says explicitly that the fire of Hell is not a

material fire, that it is very different from our ordinary fire, and

that men hardly know what it is.[224]

Among the Latins, St. Ambrose declares: “neither is the gnashing, a

gnashing of bodily teeth; nor is the everlasting fire, a fire of bodily

flames; nor is the worm, a bodily one.”--St. Jerome, in one passage,

counts the theory of the non-physical fire as one of Origen’s errors;

but elsewhere he mentions it without any unfavourable note, and even

enumerates several Scripture-texts which favour it, and admits that

“‘the worm which dieth not and the fire which is not quenched,’ is

understood, by the majority of interpreters (_a plerisque_), of the

conscience of sinners which tortures them.”[225]--St. Augustine, in

413 A.D., declares: “In the matter of the pains of the wicked, both

the unquenchable fire and the intensely living worm are interpreted

differently by different commentators. Some interpreters refer both

to the body, others refer both to the soul; and some take the fire

literally, in application to the body, and the worm figuratively,

in application to the soul, which latter opinion appears the more

credible.” Yet when, during the last years of his life, he came,

somewhat tentatively, to hold an other-world Purgatory as well, he

throughout assimilated this Purgatory’s fire to the fire of this-world

sufferings. Thus in 422 A.D.: “Souls which renounce the wood, hay,

straw, built upon that foundation (I Cor. iii, 11-15), not without pain

indeed (since they loved these things with a carnal affection), but

with faith in the foundation, a faith operative through love … arrive

at salvation, through a certain fire of pain.… Whether men suffer these

things in this life only, or such-like judgments follow even after

this life--in either case, this interpretation of that text is not

discordant with the truth.” “‘He shall be saved yet so as by fire,’

because the pain, over the loss of the things he loved, burns him. It

is not incredible that some such thing takes place even after this life

… that some of the faithful are saved by a certain purgatorial fire,

more quickly or more slowly, according as they have less or more loved

perishable things.”[226]

St. Thomas, voicing and leading Scholastic opinion, teaches that the

fire of Purgatory is the same as that of Hell; and Cardinal Bellarmine,

who died in 1621, tells us: “The common opinion of theologians is that

the fire of Purgatory is a real and true fire, of the same kind as an

earthly fire. This opinion, it is true, is not of faith, but it is very

probable,”--because of the “consent of the scholastics, who cannot be

despised without temerity,” and also because of “the eruptions of Mount

Etna.”[227] Yet the Council of Florence had, in 1439, restricted itself

to the quite general proposition that “if men die truly penitent,

in the love of God, before they have satisfied … for their sins …

their souls are purified by purgatorial pains after death”; thus

very deliberately avoiding all commitment as to the nature of these

pains.[228] Cardinal Gousset, who died in 1866, tells us: “The more

common opinion amongst theologians makes the sufferings of Purgatory

to consist in the pain of fire, or at least in a pain analogous to

that of fire.”[229] This latter position is practically identical with

Catherine’s.

As to the fire of Hell, although here especially the Scholastics, old

and new, are unanimous, it is certain that there is no definition or

solemn judgment of the Church declaring it to be material. On this

point again we find St. Thomas and those who follow him involved in

practically endless difficulties and in, for us now, increasingly

intolerable subtleties, where they try to show how a material fire

can affect an immaterial spirit. Bossuet, so severely orthodox in all

such matters, preaching, before the Court, about sin becoming in Hell

the chastisement of the sinner, does not hesitate to finish thus: “We

bear within our hearts the instrument of our punishment. ‘I shall

produce fire from thy midst, which shall devour thee’ (Ezek. xxviii,

18). I shall not send it against thee from afar, it will ignite in

thy conscience, its flames will arise from thy midst, and it will be

thy sins which will produce it.”[230]--And the Abbé F. Dubois, in a

careful article in the Ecclesiastical _Revue du Clergé Français_ of

Paris, has recently expressed the conviction that “the best minds of

our time, which are above being suspected of yielding to mere passing

fashions, feel the necessity of abandoning the literal interpretation,

judged to be insufficient, of the ancient symbols; and of returning

to a freer exegesis, of which some of the Ancients have given us the

example.”[231] Among these helpful “Ancients” we cannot but count

Catherine, with her One God Who is the Fire of Pain and the Light of

Joy to souls, according as they resist Him or will Him, either here or

hereafter.

III. CATHERINE AND ETERNAL PUNISHMENT.

_Introductory: four doctrines and difficulties to be considered._

Taking now the three great after-life conditions separately, in the

order of Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven, I would first of all note that

some readers may be disappointed that Catherine did not, like our

own English Mystic, the entirely orthodox optimist, Mother Juliana

of Norwich--her _Revelations_ belong to the year 1373 A.D.--simply

proclaim that, whilst the teaching and meaning of Christ and His

Church would come true, all, in ways known to God alone, would yet

be well.[232] In this manner, without any weakening of traditional

teaching, the whole dread secret as to the future of evil-doers is

left in the hands of God, and a beautifully boundless trust and hope

glows throughout those contemplations.

Yet, as I hope to show as we go along, certain assumptions and

conceptions, involved in the doctrine of Eternal Punishment, cannot

be systematically excluded, or even simply ignored, without a grave

weakening of the specifically Christian earnestness; and that,

grand as is, in certain respects, the idea of the Apocatastasis,

the Final Restitution of all Things and Souls--as taught by Clement

and Origen--it is not, at bottom, compatible with the whole drift,

philosophy, and tone, (even apart from specific sayings) of Our Lord.

And this latter teaching--of the simply abiding significance and effect

of our deliberate elections during this our one testing-time,--and

not that of an indefinite series of chances and purifications with

an ultimate disappearance of all difference between the results of

the worst life and the best, answers to the deepest postulates and

aspirations of the most complete and delicate ethical and spiritual

sense. For minds that can discriminate between shifting fashions and

solid growth in abiding truth, that will patiently seek out the deepest

instinct and simplest implications underlying the popular presentations

of the Doctrine of Abiding Consequences, and that take these

implications as but part of a larger whole: this doctrine still, and

now again, presents itself as a permanent element of the full religious

consciousness.

It would certainly be unfair to press Catherine’s rare and incidental

sayings on Hell into a formal system. Yet those remarks are deep and

suggestive, and help too much to interpret, supplement, and balance

her central, Purgatorial teaching, and indeed to elucidate her general

religious principles, for us to be able to pass them over. We have

already sufficiently considered the question as to the nature of the

Fire; and that as to Evil Spirits is reserved for the next Chapter.

Here I shall consider four doctrines and difficulties, together with

Catherine’s attitude towards them: the soul’s final fate, dependent

upon the character of the will’s act or active disposition at the

moment of the body’s death; the total moral perversion of the lost; the

mitigation of their pains; and the eternity of their punishment.

The Mystical Element of Religion, as studied in Saint Catherine of Genoa and her friends, Volume 2 (of 2) · 第 7 / 13 章