The author began definite ministerial work at Bath in 1848. The thoroughness with which he performed his pastoral duties did not give him much time for literary work. The articles written during his stay in that city were those on Schleiermacher and Savonarola. The materials for both essays were collected while at Halle. When writing to inform his father of the completion of the first of the articles, he refers to the Mystics in the following way:—

‘I shall not begin to write another article at once. But I should like to fix on one to have more-or-less in view. There are three subjects on which I should like to write some time or other—(1) Savonarola, for which I have much material; (2) on Mysticism, tracing it in the East, in the Greek Church, in the German Mystics of the 14th century, in the French Mystics, and lastly in those most recent; (3) Leo the Great and his stirring times. I should like to do the Savonarola next. But I should also like to know what you think on these subjects, or on any other you would perhaps like better. The first and third would consist largely of interesting narrative. The second would be rather less popular but more novel.’

The ‘second’ subject was worked up into the two volumes now republished. As it gradually became his favourite study, he felt that the field was expanding before him, and that it would be necessary, if he did justice to his theme, to treat it at a greater length than could be allowed to a magazine article. In the British Quarterly Review articles appeared on ‘Madame Guyon,’ and ‘The Mystics and the Reformers,’ which were simply the first results of his reading for the great work. It was at Birmingham that most of this writing was done: while there he was an indefatigable student. ‘There,’ says a writer in the Eclectic Review, Nov. 1861, p. 508, ‘he made himself familiar with many languages—the old German, the Spanish, even the Dutch, adding these to the Italian, French, Latin, and Greek in the classical and later forms, and all as preparations to the History of Mysticism to which he had pledged himself. The Mystics had thrown a spell upon him. Seldom have they wrought their charms without seducing to their bewildering self-abandonment.... In the case of Alfred Vaughan it was not so; he continued faithful to the high duties of life. He trod the sphere of action and compelled the ghostly band he visited, or who visited him, to pay tribute to the highest religious teaching of Christian truth and life.’ But the body would not keep pace with his mind. In 1855 he was obliged to resign his pastoral charge at Birmingham, and from that time he devoted himself entirely to literature. He wrote several articles and criticisms, chiefly in the British Quarterly amongst these, one on Kingsley’s ‘Hypatia,’ which we believe was much appreciated by the future Canon of Westminster. An article on ‘Art and History’ appeared in Fraser’s Magazine about the same time. And now we reach the first publication of his greater achievement, the ‘Hours with the Mystics.’ In August, 1855, the printing of the original edition began, and was completed in the February of the following year. The author lived long enough afterwards to witness its success, and then swiftly came the end. In October, 1857, Alfred Vaughan passed away into another world where he has doubtless found many of those on whose characters he loved to muse. We will not attempt any analysis of his character, but we cannot resist the impulse to insert one loving tribute to his memory, which appeared in a Birmingham paper (Aris’ Gazette, Nov. 27th, 1857). ‘It has seemed fit to the All-Wise Disposer of events to withdraw from this world one of its holiest and most gifted inhabitants, one who, had his life been prolonged, bade fair to have taken rank among its brightest lights and most distinguished ornaments.... The strength and sweetness, so happily blended in his character, were apparent in his preaching; he was tender enough for the most womanly heart, he was intellectual enough for the most masculine mind. As a writer he had already attained considerable reputation, and promised to become one of the chief luminaries of the age. As a Christian, he was sound in faith, benignant in spirit, and most holy in life; a delighter in the doctrine of God, his Saviour, and an eminent adorner of that doctrine.’

Before venturing on any remarks upon the subject-matter of the book itself, we may be allowed to make a slight reference to opinions expressed upon it at the time of its publication. In Fraser’s Magazine for September, 1856, there was a long review by Canon Kingsley. In this article weak points are shown and sometimes the criticisms are rather severe; but there was too much real sympathy between the two men (though they never knew each other personally) for the reviewer not fully to appreciate the good qualities in the work before him. Now that Charles Kingsley’s name is such a household word in England, no apology is needed for quoting two passages from the above-mentioned essay. ‘There is not a page,’ it says in one place, ‘nor a paragraph in which there is not something worth recollecting, and often reflections very wise and weighty indeed, which show that whether or not Mr. Vaughan has thoroughly grasped the subject of Mysticism, he has grasped and made part of his own mind and heart many things far more practically important than Mysticism, or any other form of thought; and no one ought to rise up from the perusal of his book without finding himself, if not a better, at least a more thoughtful man, and perhaps a humbler one also, as he learns how many more struggles and doubts, discoveries, sorrows and joys, the human race has passed through, than are contained in his own private experience.’ In another place, while pointing out various improvements which he would like to see in another edition, Mr. Kingsley adds, ‘But whether our hope be fulfilled or not, a useful and honourable future is before the man who could write such a book as this is in spite of all defects.’ The reviewer adds later in a reprint of this essay, ‘Mr. Vaughan’s death does not, I think, render it necessary for me to alter any of the opinions expressed here, and least of all that in the last sentence, fulfilled now more perfectly than I could have foreseen.’

With the mention of Charles Kingsley’s name we are reminded of others of the same school of thought, and therefore the following comparison in an article in the Eclectic Review (November, 1861) may prove interesting. The reader must judge of its truth. ‘While Robertson of Brighton,’ says the reviewer, ‘was preaching his sermons, and Archer Butler was preparing his Lectures on Philosophy, Alfred Vaughan about the same age, but younger than either, was accumulating material for, and putting into shape, the “Hours with the Mystics.” He died within a year or two of their departure, and still nearer to the period of youth than those extraordinary men. His name suggests their names to the mind—all victims to the fatal thirty-four and thirty-seven. He had not the wonderful touch of Robertson’s “vanished hand”; he had not the tenacity of muscle and fibre of Archer Butler; but he combined many of the characteristics of both, and added that which gave individuality to his genius. He had not the fine subtle sense of insight possessed by Robertson; he had not the rapid and comprehensive power of Butler. They again had not his large and generous culture.’ More of such favourable criticisms and kindly words from men of learning might be quoted, but we forbear. The task of referring to such sentiments is not unnaturally attractive to the son of such a man; but it is simply desired to put forward this book once again on its own merits, in the hope that there are still many who will rightly appreciate the labour and genius to which it bears witness.

About the work itself it will be necessary to say only a few words.

When the ‘Hours with the Mystics’ first appeared it traversed ground which was to a great extent untrodden, at any rate in England. Mysticism, though a favourite study of the author, was not then, and can scarcely be said to be now, a popular subject. A matter-of-fact age puts such ideas on one side, as something too weak for serious consideration. The majority indeed have but a very hazy notion as to what Mysticism is; they only have an idea that something is meant which is very inferior, and they pass it by. Well has Mr. Maurice said that such terms (Mediæval Phil. p. 143) ‘are the cold formal generalisations of a late period, commenting on men with which it has no sympathy.’ In the minds of thoughtful men the name of mystic points to a special and recognisable tendency, and the history given in this book shows that the same tendency has been working in the world for ages;—Hindus and Persians, Neoplatonists and Schoolmen, Anabaptists and Swedenborgians, have all felt its force. The main principle of all their doctrine was the necessity of a closer union with the Deity. Among Christians,—with whom we are chiefly concerned,—this close connection, it was thought, could only be gained after passing through stages of illumination and purification; and progress in the way of perfection was to be made not by labour and study, but by solitude, and asceticism. In these volumes this doctrine is exhibited; especially we trace the influence which the pseudo-Dionysius had in the fourth century; how, under his guidance, these ideas spread in the East, and thence to the West; the position taken up by Mystics against the Schoolmen, and the condition of Mysticism at the time of the Reformation. These topics are interesting, and to the questions which must be raised in connection with them in every thoughtful mind, it is hoped that the reader will find satisfactory answers in the following pages.

It will be seen that the field over which the reader is taken by the author is very large. It is believed that though there have been during recent years various contributions made to the literature on this subject, no writer has attempted to take in all the various phases which are pictured in this book. In German Mystics some writers have found a congenial theme; others have taught us more about the mysterious religions of the East. It is, we think, to be regretted that more attention has not been paid to the Mystics of the Scholastic period. The position held by Hugo of S. Victor and his followers was by no means insignificant. As a mystic, Hugo showed that it was possible to combine contemplation with common sense and learning. In an age when Scholasticism was submitting religion to cold and exact logic, it was like turning from some dusty road into a quiet grass-grown lane, to hear of devout contemplation leading up to perfect holiness and spiritual knowledge. Most of us are ready to agree with these men when they maintain that there are mysteries of Divine Truth which cannot be analysed by the understanding, but which can be embraced by thoughtful and reverent contemplation. So long as the use of both learning and devotion was admitted, we are able to sympathise with them. But it is a truism to say that the tendency of any movement is to go to extremes. The Mystics of this period appear to have recoiled horror-struck from what seemed to them rationalistic or materialistic ideas. In that, they might be right enough. But starting from the true standpoint that there are mysteries in the Infinite which we finite creatures cannot fathom with our finite minds, they proceeded to the extreme of putting devotion before knowledge. Next, they thought there was nothing to which they could not attain by devout yearning, even to absorption into the Deity. The logical conclusion of these theories tended to pantheism: those who discarded logic yielded to fanaticism. Into that error fell most of the disciples of the great Scholastic Mystics. And has not the like occurred elsewhere in history? Putting religion out of the question, Wycliffe may have been a socialist, but he was far behind his followers. But as such a falling away on the part of the disciple cannot justly take from the character of the master, so we would still say a word for Hugo of S. Victor. A man whose aim in life was the knowledge of God, and who worked for that end with courage and diligence, is not a character to be neglected. ‘His name,’ says Mr. Maurice (Mediæval Phil. p. 148), ‘has been less remembered in later times than it deserves, because it has been overshadowed by those of other men who met some of the tastes of the age more successfully, though their actual power was not greater than his, perhaps not equal to it.’

In Hugo of S. Victor and his predecessors, Bernard and Anselm, we see the combination of Scholasticism and Mysticism. To some extent they were able to keep a middle course. They would not allow their reason to run riot over sacred mysteries, and their firm hold on the articles of the Catholic faith prevented them from sinking into vague pantheism.

Among the Mystics of Germany who come next in the hasty survey we are here attempting, there does not appear to have been so much steadiness. We do not mean to say that the Scholastic Mystics were perfect; they were not free from exaggerations, but their extravagances appear to us less dangerous than were those of the old German Mystics. The names of the leading German Mystics are more familiar to most people than are any others. Who has not heard of Tauler? What the influence of his teaching was is shown in the following pages. He may be exonerated from all charge of pantheism, as may, also, be Ruysbroek and Suso; but it is very doubtful whether the writings left by Eckart acquit him of all connection with these errors. He has been claimed as orthodox by churchmen, and as a pantheist by many pantheists; and extracts can be quoted from his works in support of either theory. Eckart’s position was difficult. The general temper of the world at the time was restless; the errors and abuses of the Church drove earnest men to look within. They turned their attention to personal holiness, to the neglect of the fact that they had any duties towards the Christian brotherhood at large. To urge his hearers to a closer union with God was a noble subject for a preacher. But must it not be confessed that Eckart had gone too far when he could utter such words as these, ‘a truly divine man has been so made one with God that henceforth he does not think of God or look for God outside himself?’ His teaching certainly approached often towards the brink of the abyss of pantheism, and as Archbishop Trench says (Med. Ch. Hist., p. 348), ‘sometimes it does not stop short of the brink.’