apparently lost from the view of those who are the strongest
advocates of symbolism. For intuition implies direct insight,
independent of reasoning process and conceptual construction.
Whereas, a symbol, in any ordinary acceptation of the word, is
indisputably a product of conscious mental processes: its very
reference beyond itself demands conscious analysis and
synthesis, and a conscious recognition of complicated systems
of relations. The doctrine of symbols is thus in reality
subversive of Mysticism of any kind, and more especially of
Nature Mysticism.

Let it not be supposed that to argue thus is to repudiate
symbolism as such. Whoever understands the nature and
conditions of human knowledge sees that symbolic systems, of
endless variety, are necessary instruments in almost every
department of theory, research, and practice. We cannot move
without them. Some symbols are thoroughly abstract and
artificial, but frequently of the utmost value, in spite of their
being pure creations of the mind. Other symbols are founded on
analogies and affinities deep down in the nature of things, and
so come nearer to the matter of genuine intuition. Between the
two extremes there are an infinite number of graded systems,
some of which enter into the very texture of daily life. But so
long as, and in so far as, there is a "standing for" instead of a
"being," the mystic, qua mystic, is defrauded of his direct
communion with the Ground of things.

But the mystic who champions symbolism may object that the
definition of that term must not be taken so narrowly, and that
there is the wider sense in which it is taken by writers on
aesthetics. Some such definition as this may be attempted: A
symbol is something which does not merely "stand for"
something else, but one which, while it has a meaning of its
own, points onward to another thing beyond itself, and suggests
an ideal content which of itself it cannot fully embody. But are
we really cleared of our difficulty by substituting "suggests" for
"stands for"? Again it must be insisted that the mystic aims at
direct communion, not with that which is "suggested," but that
which "is." An object may be low or high in the scale of
existence, may be rich or poor in content--but it is what it is,
and, as such, and in and for itself, may be the source of an
intuition. The man lying on the bank of the mill-stream and
meditating on the water-wheel wanted the secret of the wheel
itself, not wh