[Footnote 345:  I do not find it possible to give a more honourable place than this to a system of biblical exegesis which has still a few defenders.  It was first developed in Christian times by the Gnostics, and was eagerly adopted by Origen, who fearlessly applied it to the Gospels, teaching that “Christ’s actions on earth were enigmas ([Greek:  ainigmata]), to be interpreted by Gnosis.”  The method was often found useful in dealing with moral and scientific difficulties in the Old Testament; it enabled Dionysius to use very bold language about the literal meaning, as I showed in Lecture III.  The Christian Platonists of Alexandria meant it to be an esoteric method:  Clement calls it [Greek:  symbolikos philosophein].  It was held that [Greek:  ta mysteria mystikos paradidotai]; and even that Divine truths are honoured by enigmatic treatment ([Greek:  he krypsis he mystike semnopoiei to theion]).  But the main use of allegorism was pietistic; and to this there can be no objection, unless the piety is morbid, as is the case in many commentaries on the Song of Solomon.  Still, it can hardly be disputed that the countless books written to elaborate the principles of allegorism contain a mass of futility such as it would be difficult to match in any other class of literature.  The best defence of the method is perhaps to be found in Keble’s Tract (No. 89) on the “Mysticism” of the early Fathers.  Keble’s own poetry contains many beautiful examples of the true use of symbolism; but as an apologist of allegorism he does not distinguish between its use and abuse.  Yet surely there is a vast difference between seeing in the “glorious sky embracing all” a type of “our Maker’s love,” and analysing the 153 fish caught in the Sea of Galilee into the square of the 12 Apostles + the square of the 3 Persons of the Trinity.

The history of the doctrine of “signatures,” which is the cryptogram theory applied to medicine, is very curious and interesting, “Citrons, according to Paracelsus, are good for heart affections, because they are heart-shaped; the saphena riparum is to be applied to fresh wounds, because its leaves are spotted as with flecks of blood.  A species of dentaria, whose roots resemble teeth, is a cure for toothache and scurvy.”—­Vaughan, Hours with the Mystics, vol. ii. p. 77.  It is said that some traces of this quaint superstition survive even in the modern materia medica.  The alliance between medicine and Mysticism subsisted for a long time, and forms a curious chapter of history.]

[Footnote 346:  Cornelius Agrippa of Nettesheim, a contemporary of Reuchlin, studied Cabbalism mainly as a magical science.  He was nominally a Catholic, but attacked Rome and scholasticism quite in the spirit of Luther.  His three chief works are, On the Threefold Way of Knowing God, On the Vanity of Arts and Sciences (a ferocious attack on most of the professions), and On Occult Philosophy (treating of natural, celestial, and religious magic).  The “magician,” he says, “must study three sciences—­physics, mathematics, and theology.”  Agrippa’s adventurous life ended in 1533.]