ough
without the theurgic element. According to this view of nature,
everything in the visible world has an emblematic meaning. Everything
that a man saw, heard, or did--colours, numbers, birds, beasts, and
flowers, the various actions of life--was to remind him of something
else.[342] The world was supposed to be full of sacred cryptograms,
and every part of the natural order testified in hieroglyphics[343] to
the truths of Christianity. Thus the shamrock bears witness to the
Trinity, the spider is an emblem of the devil, and so forth. This
kind of symbolism was and is extensively used merely as a
picture-language, in which there is no pretence that the signs are
other than artificial or conventional. The language of signs may be
used either to instruct those who cannot understand words, or to
baffle those who can. Thus, a crucifix may be as good as a sermon to
an illiterate peasant; while the sign of a fish was used by the early
Christians because it was unintelligible to their enemies. This is not
symbolism in the sense which I have given to the word in this
Lecture.[344] But it is otherwise when the type is used as a _proof_
of the antitype. This latter method had long been in use in biblical
exegesis. Pious persons found a curious satisfaction in turning the
most matter of fact statements into enigmatic prophecies. Every verse
must have its "mystical" as well as its natural meaning, and the
search for "types" was a recognised branch of apologetics. Allegorism
became authoritative and dogmatic, which it has no right to be. It
would be rash to say that this pseudo-science, which has proved so
attractive to many minds, is entirely valueless. The very absurdity of
the arguments used by its votaries should make us suspect that there
is a dumb logic of a more respectable sort behind them. There is,
underlying this love of types and emblems, a strong conviction that
if "one eternal purpose runs" through the ages, it must be discernible
in small things as well as in great. Everything in the world, if we
could see things as they are, must be symbolic of the Divine Power
which made it and maintains it in being. We cannot believe that
anything in life is meaningless, or has no significance beyond the
fleeting moment. Whatever method helps us to realise this is useful,
and in a sense true. So far as this we may go with the allegorists,
while at the same time we may be thankful that the cobwebs which they
spun over the sacred t