gods themselves have their own harmony; and when song and music are dedicated to God it then acquires a different relationship: then it is a divine music. Then the gods communicate by their presence; yes, then is the inspiration much more perfect, of a greater power and a more liberal measure: but on that account we cannot assert that the soul before it was united to the body arose out of harmony. We may more reasonably believe that the soul then belonged to the divine harmony; but after she was come into the body, and there hears again the divine tones, she is so affected that she is carried away by them, and drinks in as much of this harmony as she can contain. And in this manner every one may comprehend the origin of this divine prophesying (sect. iii. c. 9). "For the rest," says Iamblichus, "the power of divining is confined to no spot, as Porphyry appears to suppose when he speaks of water at Colophon, or the subterranean vapours at Delphi, and of the stream of water at Branchis; and if it be nothing corporeal, but free, and unconfined, throws itself into all things which it is capable of pervading, it is everywhere and always present (c. 12). On divination by signs (per characteres) Iamblichus does not seem to place much reliance. It may sometimes succeed, but not with the precision and certainty as in those cases where it is done to the honour and in the presence of the gods. This is only a superficial divination, full of defect and delusion (fraudibus et errore plena). These make only a feeble impression on the mind, since the presence of God is wanting. They give only half-intelligible signs, because they are disturbed by evil spirits, and are, moreover, weak in themselves. Since as the mist of darkness cannot bear the beams of the sun, flies from them, and returns to nothing, so is it with the power of the gods, which fills and shines through all good, scatters the hosts of the wicked spirits, and chases them to the kingdom of shadows. To become a genuine diviner, much more is necessary; to that end are imperative great holiness, many long exercises of virtue, and the service of God: since what can we expect of good and perfect from those who by the work of a single day attempt to fathom the eternal and veritable nature of God ?" He pursues farther the different modes of divining, as well the natural-by water, by the sun and moon, by music and song—as those artificial ones, by entrails, the flight of birds, and by the stars. He endeavours as much as possible to combine them into an art, but to ascribe the final cause to the gods, which, through certain signs and demons, are wont to speak with men. But that men themselves, or the priests, can be the cause of divining, he regards as a sort of blasphemy against the gods. Without are we incapable of doing anything; for the work of man is a vain thing, and without stability, and, in fact, only a plaything. Neither can the human soul from its own power, as it were from an inward, hidden fire, as Porphyry supposes, be the cause of divination, since this depends wholly upon God, and without him can do nothing. In regard to divination in sleep (per quietem), and through dreams, he attributes this to an external cause, " since as truth sometimes appears voluntary and without constraint, this shows that such a divination may come from an external cause, as well as from the gods; but this is a cause dependent only on itself, and the result lies not in our power (per se existens causa, non in nostra potestate eventus, sect. iii. c. 23). Iamblichus knew, too, that there is in quiet sleep a divination, but that we cannot compel this. And yet so many believe that we can and may compel somnambulism. I hold with Iamblichus, that we ought to leave the sleepers in quiet, and only so far lead and handle, as this may promote the development of the inward divination. We should take care that the divination should be frue, and that it shall, if it will, reveal to us the actual future (quod libera sit divinatio, et quod, quando vult, et quomodo vult, futura nobis revelet, cum benevolentia.) Sickness and passion cannot be the sources of divination, Iamblichus thinks; as, for instance, how shall a maniac see what the rational cannot see? Yet there may, probably, be some relationship and agreement between them and soothsaying. "As regards the external means, such as the use of incense, and the like, these have no reference to the soul of the seer (non recipiunt animam spectantis), but to God. Prayer and invocation also concern our minds little, and our bodies not at all; but these notes are only sung to God. The reason why only certain persons, more particularly the simple and young, are fitted for subjects of divination, arises from the fact that these are more easily affected by the spirits than others." What Iamblichus, in the remaining chapters of his work, yet more diffusely describes, is chiefly repetition. One thing, however, I cannot resist quoting, and that is, his observation on prayer. We here learn what are the opinions on this head of a heathen philosopher,—and they, in more than one respect, belong to our subject; and we shall see whether there be anything in them which may instruct us : "Prayer constitutes a great portion of the sacred service, and confers a universal advantage on religion, by creating an unerring connection between the priests and God. This in itself is praiseworthy and becoming, but it further conducts us to a perfect knowledge of divine things. Thus prayer procures us this knowledge of heavenly things, the union of an indestructible bond between the priests and God; and, thirdly-and which is the most important-that inexpressible devotion which places its whole strength in God alone, imparts to our souls a blessed repose. No act prospers in the service of God where prayer is omitted. The daily repeated prayer nourishes the understanding, and prepares our hearts for sacred things; opens to man the divine, and accustoms him by degrees to the glory of the divine light. It enables us to bear our sufferings and our human weaknesses; attracts our sentiments gradually upwards, and unites them with the divine life; produces a firm conviction and an inextinguishable friendship; warms the holy love in our souls, and eukindles all that is divine. It purges away all waywardness of mind (quidquid animo adversatur, expurgat); it generates hope and true faith in the light. In a word, it helps those to an intimate conversation with the gods who exercise it diligently and often. From this shines forth the reconciling, accomplishing, and satisfying strength of prayer; how effectual it is; how it maintains the union with the gods; how prayer and sacrifice mutually invigorate each other, impart the sacred power of religion, and make it perfect. It becomes us not, therefore, wholly to contemn prayer, or only to employ a little of it, and to throw away the rest. No, wholly must we use it; and above all things must they practise it who desire to unite themselves sincerely with God." (Sect. v. c. 26.) These new-Platonic doctrines, of which I have quoted here as much as concerns our topic, have, through all ages, found defenders and followers: amongst the later ones, Gale, Cudworth, and especially Henry Moore, being the most celebrated. Akin to this school, and drawing from the same well, are the Theosophists of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. These practised chemistry, by which they asserted that they could explore the profoundest secrets of nature. As they strove, above all earthly knowledge, after the divine, and sought the divine light and fire, through which all men can acquire the true wisdom, they were called the Fire Philosophers (philosophi per ignem). The most distinguished of these are Theophrastus, Paracelsus, Adam von Boden, Oswald Croll; and later, Valentine Weigel, Robert Fludd, Jacob Böhmen, Peter Poiret, etc. In the next chapter I shall turn back to notice several things, that I may not pass over what is most remarkable and instructive in magnetism. 1 |