ment here;—hence the Mystics look upon themselves as excluded from this province, and whatever they may require from it for the frame-work of their own productions, they can borrow from others, and elaborate after their own fashion so that no one may be able to recognise it;—and they may the more securely reckon upon concealment if they abuse him whom they plunder while they are plundering him. Empiricism still remains. In so far as this is purely empirical, by separation from all that is a priori in Nature, it is the common opinion, which may indeed be the right one, that this province can only be investigated by way of experiment, and that every inquirer must in the first place acquire an historical acquaintance with what is already known, and carefully test it again for himself, and can only hope to arrive at any new result by means of new experiments based upon an intelligent survey of the whole existing stores of Experience. This however is too tedious, and demands time and persevering exertion; and there are too many skilful fellow-labourers who might anticipate our discoveries; so that we might labour on to the end of our lives without getting credit for originality. Here some charm might be applied; and it is necessary to have one. Here therefore the Mystic attempts to penetrate, by a direct incursion of fancy, to the secret principles of Nature, and thus to supersede the course of laborious study and the troublesome method of experiment which peradventure might overturn all his previously formed systems.
On account of the universal propensity of human nature for the Wonderful, this scheme cannot fail to attract general attention and to call forth ardent enthusiasm. Although old men who have already travelled this path of laborious study, and perhaps have themselves produced fortunate and fruitful experiments, may see with some jealousy their former labours regarded as fruitless and inglorious, the results brought to light by their experiments demonstrated
