1. Introduction

The purpose of this essay is to attempt an investigation of what a 'nature mysticism' might be as indicated primarily by four writers: Traherne, Whitman, Jefferies, and Krishnamurti. These have been chosen because their writings are substantially mystical or at least because their mysticism is more easily identified than with others such as Wordsworth and a whole range of other writers and poets through the ages. These other sources are vital to a fuller development of this subject but time does not permit the much longer trawl through these less populated 'seas'.

1.1. Mysticism: Some Definitions

Any writer on mysticism will inevitably bring certain assumptions with them to the subject, so it is important to state these at the outset. While broadly sympathetic to the definitions of mysticism given by James, Underhill, Zaehner and Happold (whose ideas are explored in more detail below), I am generally interested in a mysticism that does not require either the religious, the paranormal, or the occult. Hence no great effort will be expended to justify the concept of a nature mysticism against the very real (to them) worries that an orthodox Christian might have; nor on the other hand will it readily be ceded that nature mysticism might expand to include Blake's or Steiner's angels or any other occult or supernatural phenomenon. I also have to state that I accept the perennialist view (popularised by Huxley) as against the contextual view (promoted by Katz et. al.). The perennialist view holds that at core we are looking at one phenomenon called mysticism as against many, so that any taxonomy of mysticism is more a taxonomy of paths than of ends. On the other hand the traditionalist view (epitomised by the works of Frithjof Schuon) is not useful here as it assumes that any 'real' experience of God has to come via established religion, so it would neither accept the importance of Traherne, Whitman, Jefferies, or Krishnamurti, or even the concept of nature mysticism.

Another important caveat on a too-ready acceptance of the above scholars' definitions of mysticism is that their definitions are perhaps too bound up with mystical experience. Although a discussion of discrete experiences, usually understood to be in some way 'peak' experiences, is useful, it obscures the fact that the lives of the mystics need also to be characterised in terms of their continuum or orientation.

As a rough working definition to begin the discussion of nature mysticism we can say that it is an expansivity triggered by Nature. This expansivity will include not only discrete experiences (such as certain raptures often cited as examples of nature mysticism) but a mystical continuum or orientation in which Nature plays a role.


1.2. Via Positiva and Via Negativa

Although the place of nature mysticism in existing taxonomies of mysticism will be explored later on, it is worth introducing at this point the distinction, widely held to be useful, between via positiva and via negativa. Via negativa is the more easily defined of the two: it is the path to mystical union via the denying of all manifest things. The work of Dyonisius the Areopagite is perhaps the best example in a Western context, but the same principles are found as far afield as in branches of Hinduism ('neti, neti' meaning 'not this, not that' is its Indian formulation); in Buddhism (in the very concept of nirvana or nothingness); and in modern sages like Krishnamurti and Douglas Harding. Via negativa carries with it associations of withdrawal, solitude, contemplation, silence, simplicity, and renunciation, though these are often caricatured, as in the supposed Christian 'heresy' of quietism.

Via positiva is the path of expansion, a growing capacity to lose boundaries and temporality until one becomes the Whole. Perhaps the best exponent of this path is Whitman (though as this may be an unfamiliar proposition, it will be defended in more detail below). One might more readily recognise via positiva in an ecstatic like Rumi or Kabir. Clearly nature mysticism will be more readily associated with via positiva than via negativa, but it does not in the least require one aspect common in via positiva: the devotional orientation, or at least not a theistic devotion.

The distinction between via positiva and via negativa is a difficult one, and even more so the relationship between this distinction and those between bhakti and jnani, heart and intellect, love and awareness, and theistic and monistic mysticism, and so on. All of these are useful signposts however.

1.3. The Role of Nature in Mysticism

If nature mysticism is perhaps more closely related to via positiva however, then what is the role of Nature in this form of mysticism? Some pointers as to what we are looking for are needed here. We have mentioned that Nature might be a trigger, that is a trigger to a discrete mystical experience, and that it might also be part of the continuum or orientation of a mystic. We can easily investigate the first case, as there are many recorded accounts of mystical experiences that took place as a result of the contemplation of a mountain, sunset, or even of humbler commonplace Nature: these are ecstatic or sublime moments. How can we learn about Nature as part of the continuum of the mystic however? The answer may lie in a simple characterisation of a mystic's writings: they may pedagogical, or they may be the spontaneous celebration of the delight they find in their condition. This distinction is very important because the pedagogical is more often a picture of the mystic's audience than of their inner world for some such as Krishnamurti there is no allowance made for the listener, while for others such as Gurdjieff it is almost impossible to disentangle pedagogical device from the real teaching. Hence to understand the role of Nature in the continuum of the mystic can take some detective work.

Nature as a trigger to mystical experience can be understood, as identified earlier, as part of an expansivity. It may also cause the resonance of some faculty that goes beyond time, so that as a cause of the loss of boundaries and as a cause of the loss of the sense of time Nature somehow works on certain individuals. Nature is vast, though this is often lost on city dwellers, and it is timeless in the sense that it regenerates itself. It is also prodigious, and this is part of via positiva: Arjuna's overwhelming experience of the cosmic nature of Krishna in the Bhagavad Gita is partly due to the abundance of creation that is manifest through Krishna. The views of Nature that we shall come across in nature mysticism are not romanticised views of Nature however, even if they may seem so on the surface. Nature can also be seen as the destroyer of the false, and this is important in Buddhist mysticism for example the Buddha nature is revealed once the imperfections of vision are removed, rather than by grace as in the Christian tradition.

2. Scholars on Nature Mysticism

Recent debates amongst scholars of mysticism have focused on the perennialist / contextualist argument in which nature mysticism plays no important role. Hence it is more useful to look back at earlier scholars like Bucke, James, and Underhill who provided much of the basis at the turn of the century for later work; we also look at the work of an obscure author, J. Edward Mercer, and R.C. Zaehner, who wrote on nature mysticism in connection with drugs.

2.1. William James

In the Varieties of Religious Experience William James introduced an influential distinction between the religion of the healthy-minded and that of the sick soul, locating nature mysticism (without an emphasis on it by name however) in the healthy-minded. The distinction is useful because it helps focus on the problems of evil and innocence, both of which are inextricably linked with nature mysticism. James was unaware of the work of Jefferies or Traherne, and wrote his Varieties long before Krishnamurti was published, but he knew of Whitman and in a way that is not well understood today. At the end of the nineteenth century 'Whitmanism' as a proto-religion was much discussed; it is only more recently that Whitman studies has become merely literary, and James was reacting to the earlier debates. He makes this comment on Whitman:

In some individuals optimism may become quasi-pathological. The capacity for even a transitory sadness or a momentary humility seems cut off from them as by a kind of congenital anaesthesia. The supreme contemporary example of such an inability to feel evil is of course Walt Whitman [1].

This grossly misrepresents Whitman as we shall see later. James continues:

Thus it has come about that many persons to-day regard Walt Whitman as the restorer of the eternal natural religion. He has infected them with his own love of comrades, with his own gladness that he and they exist. Societies are actually formed for his cult; a periodical organ exists for its propagation, in which the lines of orthodoxy and heterodoxy are already beginning to be drawn; hymns are written by others in his peculiar prosody; and he is even explicitly compared to the founder of the Christian religion, not altogether to the advantage of the latter [2].

We shall return to James's view of Whitman later, but it is interesting to note that he uses the term 'eternal natural religion'. Throughout James's chapter on the healthy-minded he attempts an even-handedness but we can see that his instinct is with the religion of the sick soul. I believe that James taps into a universal interest in evil, the morbid, and the penitent; this interest makes via negativa such a strong current in mysticism. Nature mysticism should not be assumed to require the naive healthy-mindedness of James however. In his chapter on the sick soul James puts forward ('without judgement' he tells us) the view that 'naturism' is pessimistic because 'Old age has the last word: the purely naturalistic look at life, however enthusiastically it may begin, is sure to end in sadness.' [3] (Modern adherents to this view gleefully cite the case of Whitman in his old age as an example.) 'Naturism' in this context is far removed from the concerns of nature mysticism.

James underpins his healthy/sick dichotomy with a further distinction: between the once-born and twice-born the former are permanently in an innocent state of happiness and the latter regain it through some form of salvation. This forms the basis of two types of religion for him: naturalism and salvationism, and we shall consider this view in the nature mysticism of Traherne, Whitman and Jefferies. Before leaving James it is useful to comment on another important contribution he made to the study of mysticism: his four 'marks' of mystical experience. These are: ineffability, noetic quality, transiency and passivity [4]. These marks have been largely adopted by later writers on mysticism, and perhaps have set the trend to consider mystical experience at the expense of mystical orientation. James concludes on the general traits of the mystic range of consciousness:

It is on the whole pantheistic and optimistic, or at least the opposite of pessimistic. It is anti-naturalistic, and harmonizes best with twice-bornness and so-called other-worldly states of mind [5].

James's dismissal of Whitman, his obvious preference for the sick soul, and his emphasis on mystical experience do not diminish however his contribution to the study of mysticism, in particular his recognition of the authority that mystical experience brings to the experiencer.

2.2. Evelyn Underhill

Evelyn Underhill first published her Mysticism The Nature and Development of Spiritual Consciousness in 1911, some nine years after James' Varieties. It built on the work of James and Bucke (who also influenced James); it focused on mysticism; it was broader in its sources, though it did not venture further than the Religions of the Book (considering mystics of the Far East to be nihilists); and it shared the emphasis on mystical experience (adding further 'marks' to James' scheme). Of the four main protagonists in this essay Underhill was aware of Whitman and Jefferies, neither of whom she acknowledged as full-blown mystics. Unlike James she placed no great emphasis on the distinction between the healthy-minded and the sick soul, seeing in the mystics a universal earnestness and determination in their pursuit of the absolute. There are many sympathetic references to Nature none of which make the association with naive healthy-mindedness that James implies. Here are some examples:

Such use of visible nature as the stuff of ontological perceptions, the medium whereby the self reaches out to the Absolute, is not rare in the history of mysticism. The mysterious vitality of trees, the silent magic of the forest, the strange and steady cycle of its life, possess in a peculiar degree this power of unleashing the human soul: are curiously friendly to its cravings, minister to its inarticulate needs. Unsullied by the corroding touch of consciousness, that life can make a contact with the "great life of All"; and through its mighty rhythms man can receive a message concerning the true and timeless World of "all that is, and was, and evermore shall be." Plant life of all kinds, indeed from the "flower in the crannied wall" to the "Woods of Westermain" can easily become for selves of a certain type, a "mode of the Infinite." So obviously does this appear when we study the history of the mystics, that Steiner has drawn from it the hardly warrantable inference that "plants are just those natural phenomena whose qualities in the higher world are similar to their qualities in the physical world."


Though the conclusion be not convincing, the fact remains. The flowery garment of the world is for some mystics a medium of ineffable perception, a source of exalted joy, the veritable clothing of God. I need hardly add that such a state of things has always been found incredible by common sense. "The trees which move some to tears of joy," says Blake, who possessed in an eminent degree this form of sacramental perception, "is in the Eyes of others only a green thing that stand in the Way." [6]


To "see God in nature," to attain a radiant consciousness of the "otherness" of natural things, is the simplest and commonest form of illumination. Most people, under the spell of emotion or beauty, have known flashes of rudimentary vision of this kind. Where such a consciousness is recurrent, as it is in may poets, there results that partial yet often overpowering apprehension of the Infinite Life immanent in all living things, which some modern writers have dignified by the name of "nature-mysticism." [7]

In the first passage Underhill hints at a personal sensitivity to nature, though in the second one is left with the impression that "nature-mysticism" is for her too grand a term. (I am not sure also whether her dismissal of Steiner is warranted: his theories were not derived from a study of the mystics.) Incidentally, she gives the following as a list of poets that fit the description in the passage: Keats, Shelley, Wordsworth, Tennyson, Browning and Whitman.

Underhill is keen to defend the mystic from the general assumption that they deny the world; she often uses their relation to Nature to illustrate this. At one point she cites the seeing of "all creatures in God, and God in all creatures"; at another the brother Wolf of Francis of Assisi; and at another the case of the Peruvian Saint, Rose of Lima, who sang the praises of God for a whole hour in alternation with a songbird [8]. In another passage Underhill recommends natural objects as subjects for contemplation.

Seen thus a thistle has celestial qualities: a speckled hen a touch of the sublime. Our greater comrades, the trees, the clouds, the rivers, initiate us into mighty secrets, flame out at us "like shining from shook foil." The "eye which looks upon Eternity" has been given its opportunity. We have been immersed for a moment in the "life of the All": a deep and peaceful love unites us with the substance of all things, a "Mystic Marriage" has taken place between the mind and some aspect of the external world. Cor ad cor loquitur: Life has spoken to life, but not only to the surface-intelligence. That surface-intelligence knows only that the message was true and beautiful: no more.


The price of this experience has been a stilling of that surface-mind, a calling in of all our scattered interests: an entire giving of ourselves to this one activity, without self-consciousness, without reflective thought. To reflect is always to distort: our minds are not good mirrors. The contemplative, on whatever level his faculty may operate, is contented to absorb and be absorbed: and by this humble access he attains to a plane of knowledge which no intellectual process can come near.


I do not suggest that this simple experiment is in any sense to be equated with the transcendental contemplation of the mystic. Yet it exercises on a small scale, and in regard to visible Nature, the same natural faculties which are taken up and used it is true upon other levels, and in subjection to the transcendental sense in his apprehension of the Invisible Real. Though it is one thing to see truthfully for an instant the flower in the crannied wall, another to be lifted up to the apprehension of "eternal Truth, true Love and loved Eternity", yet both according to their measure are functions of the inward eye, operating in the "suspension of the mind." [9]

Underhill leaves us with many question regarding a possible nature mysticism in this passage, the principle one being whether it really is a lesser mysticism, any more than 'quietism' is really to be treated as deficient. There are also useful pointers in this passage regarding the silence of the mind in which Nature speaks to us.

2.3. Edward Mercer

As far as I know there has been only one book published in the English language with the title 'Nature Mysticism': this was written by J. Edward Mercer in 1912 and is now out of print. Mercer was aware of Jefferies and Whitman (both of whom are quoted extensively, though Jefferies more so) but not of Traherne or Krishnamurti; he does also cite James' Varieties. Nature Mysticism is scholarly review of a wide range of sources, stating at the same time that 'metaphysics and theology are to be avoided' [10] the latter surprising as Mercer was bishop of Tasmania. He gives us a useful definition of nature mysticism that can complement the first approximation given earlier:

The goal of the nature-mystics is actual living communion with the Real, in and through its sensuous manifestation [11].

This definition is useful because it avoids the emphasis on ecstatic or otherwise special experiences and focuses more on a continuum, as implied in the word communion. The use of the term 'the Real,' though vague at this point, is also useful if we place it for the time being merely in opposition to the false or fanciful (thus alerting us to the danger of the romantic or merely aesthetic dimension of nature mysticism). Mercer is careful also to deal with the charge of anthropomorphism and also deals with the issue of animism (quoting Wordsworth's recollection of a boyhood incident on a lake where a peak seems to come alive to him [12]). Mercer is oddly cautious about nature itself, spending many chapters on the elements (eight on water, two on air, and one on fire) before dealing briefly with vegetation; he more or less rules out a discussion of animal life. Despite this the book is valuable, particularly for its conviction that nature mysticism is worthwhile in itself and also for the view that its pursuance can be fostered.

2.4. Zaehner

Richard Charles Zaehner wrote and translated prodigiously in religion and mysticism and expanded on the works of Bucke, James, and Underhill by his scholarship in Eastern mysticism (he does not seem to be aware of Mercer's work). Compared to these three he is a slippery character however in that his own views as a Catholic are hidden by a two- or three-deep layering of academic scepticism. Like Underhill however he regards nature mysticism, for which he coins the term panenhenic mysticism, as inferior to monistic mysticism, which in turn is inferior to theistic mysticism. The usefulness of his term panenhenic mysticism is diminished by his association of its domain, nature mysticism, with drug-induced 'mystical' states, particularly in his book Mysticism, Drugs, and Makebelieve first published in 1972. Much of this book is a re-presentation of an earlier work called Mysticism Sacred and Profane, first published in 1957.

Zaehner knew of all four of the major protagonists in this essay, though he seems to reserve an unqualified admiration only for Krishnamurti, referring to him as a 'holy man' [13]. Nature mysticism has 23 entries in the index to Mysticism, Drugs, and Makebelieve, and deals at length with the subject in the chapter called 'The Vitalist Heresy.' Zaehner equates nature mysticism with cosmic consciousness (a term introduced by Richard Maurice Bucke, but who is dismissed by Zaehner as 'fatuous') and says of it that 'is essential to most of the experiences described in the Hindu sacred books.' [14] He points out that for Proust as for many other nature mystics a mystical experience may come unheralded, but for Zen students, where a similarly mundane natural object or event might trigger a similar experience, they have been trained to seek it out and recognise it [15]. Zaehner seems to classify Zen with nature mysticism (this is supported by Suzuki, discussed below), and tends to relegate both to an inferior status than other forms. Typical of his mix of cant and scholarly dispassion, he goes on to praise the work of the Irish novelist Forrest Reid as beautifully expressing the experience of the typical nature mystic. Because however drug-induced experiences can induce similar states he goes on to criticise James for not distinguishing nature mysticism clearly enough from the kind of transcendental mysticism of Buddhism [16]. (Incidentally he twice states of James that 'his sympathies were plainly all on the side of the 'healthy-minded' against the 'sick soul' who must be born again' [17] the opposite of my own reading!) At the end of the 'Vitalist Heresy' Zaehner groups Jefferies and Whitman as nature mystics, with Whitman perhaps the most thoroughgoing; he then slips into an attack on the Upanishads as the vitalist heresy (which in typical Zaehner style is meant half-ironically):

All this had of course been said thousands of years ago in the Upanishads, the fount and origin of all nature mysticism, for here too we find the perfect expression of 'Whitmanism' in all its preposterous defiance of logic and common sense [18].

However Zaehner's association of nature mysticism with the Upanishads is useful, though it is Taoism that may be a better source for understanding it. He also mentions Spinoza in connection with nature mysticism. Speaking on Timothy Leary's account of the Catholic communion as giving an ecstatic revelation (similar to LSD) Zaehner perhaps sums up his attitude to nature mysticism:

This is perfectly fair account of Christian mysticism: it is the soul's love-affair with God and its spiritual marriage to him. It is not a merging into the All as so often in the Upanishads or with the nature mystics, nor is it the isolation of one's own eternal essence from all that is other than itself as in the Shankya-Yoga in India [19].

Zaehner is entitled to the opinion that nature mysticism as he characterises it is fundamentally different from Christian mysticism and inferior to it, but Mercer's view, that nature mysticism is valuable regardless of its similarities or otherwise to other forms, is probably the best to take in the long run.

2.5. Happold

F.C.Happold's work, called simply Mysticism, was first published in 1962 and is still Penguin's current mainstream offering on the subject. Happold acknowledges it as a personal anthology and commentary, though he builds again on the work of James and Underhill; he takes for example James' four marks of mystical experience and expands them to six by adding a sense of Oneness and a sense of timelessness [20]. Happold does not claim to move forward our understanding of mysticism in any significant way, but does present a more balanced view than Zaehner. He gives equal weight to what he calls nature-, soul- and god-mysticism (corresponding to Zaehner's three categories), and devotes a chapter respectively to Traherne and Jefferies. Happold shares with the other scholars mentioned here the emphasis on mystical experience; a confirmation of this comes from an account of Happold's visit to the great English mystic Douglas Harding, in which Harding tells of Happold's insistence on hearing about peak mystical experiences instead of Douglas' very down-to-earth teachings [21]. Harding's own description of what comes nearest to a mystical experience is found in the opening chapter of his On Having No Head [22], but, like Krishnamurti he consistently plays down the role of 'peak' experience.

3. Nature Mysticism in Religious and Mystical Traditions

3.1. Religions of the Book

A detailed analysis of the role of nature and nature mysticism in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam is beyond the scope of this essay, apart from some general remarks. The Gnostic and Manichean influence on Christian thought has made Nature and the body an area often set in opposition to the spiritual. This may be less so in Judaism and Islam. Christian mystics are generally agreed to have been more cautious in their language than Hindu or Buddhist mystics; Sufi mystics have also run into trouble with mainstream Islam. The theistic nature of Judaism, Christianity and Islam make nature mysticism more difficult to accommodate than in Hinduism or Buddhism.

An interesting example of how a modern Christian might view nature mysticism is that of Anthony Freeman, the Church of England sacked for 'not believing in God.' He writes:

Emotionally I hung on to the design argument long after conceding that there was no intellectual force in it. And it was my emotional response, to a growing doubt that the universe really has a design, which finally tipped the balance against it. I can still admire the way in which elements of nature interlock, but I can no longer accept that it is part of a plan. For example I can marvel that animals have so developed that they can breath air; I cannot accept (as the old view required) that God made air the way he did in order that the animals could breathe. Nor can I accept any longer (as traditional faith requires) that a good and skilful God would have designed so much waste and violence into nature, 'red in tooth and claw.' [23]

Freeman is proposing a humanist Christianity, but what is interesting here is that in closing the door to a Christian God (at least the one taught in the seminaries) he is also closing the door to a nature mysticism. To see waste and violence in Nature, to see it as 'red in tooth and claw', and not see its beauty, tenderness, and intimations of the infinite and the eternal is to lose out indeed. This pessimism is however a widespread view of Nature, and we need to keep this example in mind as we examine further on the prerequisites for a nature mysticism.

3.2. Hinduism

Zaehner rightly points out that the Hindu Upanishads say much that is consistent with nature mysticism, though it is hard to point to specific passages. What is often found is a regard for the natural order and for Nature in all its aspects, including the sexual. Although this may be hard to demonstrate, one is left with the suspicion that the Hindus of 2 to 3 thousand years ago, authors of the Upanishads, were more accepting of nature than at present; that renunciation has grown from a symbolic act and a simple choice of lifestyle to an active rejection of Nature. In the lives and teachings of those wonderful sages, Ramakrishna and Ramana Maharshi, we find no pleasure in Nature, and in the life of Gandhi an extreme of renunciation. Of modern Indian-born teachers it is the iconoclast Rajneesh and the Western-educated Krishnamurti who show a sensitivity and appreciation of Nature.

3.3. Taoism and Zen

Taoism, as the ancestor of Zen, is a more obviously promising ground for the development of a nature mysticism. The Tao Teh Ching is an unusual document in the history of mysticism, and quite unlike any Buddhist text, in that it seems to speak of the post-enlightenment stage in a matter-of-fact way; pointing out that the Tao is likely to be misunderstood; that the sage is like the infant yet rules or guides his or her community; that with the least interference the natural order will prosper; and that the sage prefers what is within to what is without. It is anti-intellectual and anti-technology. Suzuki points this out through a story from Chang-tze:

A farmer dug a well and was using the water for irrigating his farm. He used an ordinary bucket to draw water from the well, as most primitive people do. A passer-by, seeing this, asked the farmer why he did not use a shadoof for the purpose; it is a labour-saving device and can do more work than the primitive method. The farmer said. "I know it is a labour-saving and it is for this very reason that I do not use the device. What I am afraid of is that the use of such a contrivance makes one machine-minded. Machine-mindedness leads one to the habit of indolence and laziness [24].

Suzuki considers Orientals more attuned to Nature than Westerners, giving as an example two poems, the first by Basho:

When I look carefully
I see the nazuna blooming
By the hedge!

Suzuki explains that he has translated the Japanese word kana into the finishing exclamation mark in the poem; it expresses admiration, praise, sorrow, or joy, and in this context lends a mystical meaning to the poem, for the nazuna is the most common and insignificant of flowers. In contrast he offers a poem by Tennyson:

Flower in the crannied wall,
I pluck you out of the crannies;
Hold you here, root and all, in my hand,
Little flower but if I could understand
What you are, root and all, and all in all,
I should know what God and man is.

Suzuki points out the violence in Tennyson's act of plucking the flower; in contrast Basho merely looks, though carefully [25]. In the 'carefully' we have the whole of nature mysticism; in Tennyson's 'if' we have the whole of Western intellectual doubt.

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References for Part 1
[1] James, W. The Varieties of Religious Experience, Penguin Books, Middlesex, England, 1986, p. 83
[2] James, W. The Varieties of Religious Experience, Penguin Books, Middlesex, England, 1986, p. 85
[3] James, W. The Varieties of Religious Experience, Penguin Books, Middlesex, England, 1986, p. 140
[4] James, W. The Varieties of Religious Experience, Penguin Books, Middlesex, England, 1986, p. 380
[5] James, W. The Varieties of Religious Experience, Penguin Books, Middlesex, England, 1986, p. 422
[6] Underhill, E. Mysticism - The Nature and Development of Spiritual Consciousness, Oneworld Publications, Oxford, UK, 1993, p. 191
[7] Underhill, E. Mysticism - The Nature and Development of Spiritual Consciousness, Oneworld Publications, Oxford, UK, 1993, p. 234
[8] Underhill, E. Mysticism - The Nature and Development of Spiritual Consciousness, Oneworld Publications, Oxford, UK, 1993, p 206, p. 260, and p. 261.
[9] Underhill, E. Mysticism - The Nature and Development of Spiritual Consciousness, Oneworld Publications, Oxford, UK, 1993, p. 302
[10] Mercer, J.Edward, Nature Mysticism, London: George Allen and Co., 1913, p. 7
[11] Mercer, J.Edward, Nature Mysticism, London: George Allen and Co., 1913, p. 4
[12] Wordsworth, William, 'The Prelude' in Poetical Works, Oxford University Press, 1990, verses 356 - 380, p. 499
[13] Zaehner, R.C. Drugs, Mysticism and Make-Believe, Collins, London 1972, p. 133
[14] Zaehner, R.C. Drugs, Mysticism and Make-Believe, Collins, London 1972, p. 43
[15] Zaehner, R.C. Drugs, Mysticism and Make-Believe, Collins, London 1972, p. 45
[16] Zaehner, R.C. Drugs, Mysticism and Make-Believe, Collins, London 1972, p. 50
[17] Zaehner, R.C. Mysticism Sacred and Profane, An Inquiry into some Varieties of Praeternatural Experience, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1957, p. 41 and 42
[18] Zaehner, R.C. Drugs, Mysticism and Make-Believe, Collins, London 1972, p. 65
[19] Zaehner, R.C. Drugs, Mysticism and Make-Believe, Collins, London 1972, p. 87
[20] Happold, F.C. Mysticism - a Study and and Anthology, Penguin Books, London, 1970, p. 47
[21] Conversation with Harding in May 1994, Ireland.
[22] Harding, D.E. On Having No Head - Zen and the Rediscovery of the Obvious, London: Arkana, 1986
[23] Freeman, Anthony, God in Us, London: SCM Press, 1994, p.18
[24] Suzuki, D.T, From, Erich, and de Martino, Richard, Zen Buddhism and Psychoanalysis, London: George Allen and Unwin, 1960, p. 7
[25] Suzuki, D.T, From, Erich, and de Martino, Richard, Zen Buddhism and Psychoanalysis, London: George Allen and Unwin, 1960, pp. 1 - 5