Jean Finot opens Modern Saints and Seers with a striking image: the 'Forest of Illusions,' where humanity, reeling from the Great War, turns toward occultism and the 'beyond' with 'passionate curiosity.' He argues that the war's devastation—the 'useless and unjustifiable sacrifice of so many innocent lives'—has wounded dogmatic theology, leaving a void that new spiritual movements rush to fill. Finot does not dismiss these movements outright; instead, he treats them as phenomena that science must reckon with, widening its frontiers to include formerly contemned manifestations.

The War's Spiritual Aftermath

Finot's preface establishes a specific historical tension: the war has made the supernatural 'irresistible,' yet established religions have been 'seriously wounded' by their inability to explain mass suffering. He notes that 'the millions of dead who have vanished from mortal sight seem to be drawing the present towards the unsounded deeps of the future.' This phrasing—'drawing the present'—suggests a gravitational pull, not a reasoned choice. Finot implies that occultism's appeal lies less in its truth claims than in its ability to provide 'cherished moments of illusion,' even when those illusions collapse into deeper despair. The preface thus frames the entire work as an investigation into why modern humanity, despite scientific progress, craves direct contact with the 'Unknowable.'

Mormonism as a Working Model

Finot's treatment of Mormonism offers a concrete case study. He quotes French traveler Jules Remy, who describes a society where 'order, peace and industry are revealed on every side' and 'everybody, from the humblest convert up to the bishop himself, is occupied in some sort of manual labour.' Finot emphasizes the movement's 'practical interpretation of the Communistic ideals' and its 'determination to encourage labour by means of religion and patriotism.' He presents the Mormon Church as a 'hive' where each member has a function under the watchful eye of leaders who direct 'individual activities in the interests of collective welfare.' This is not a theological analysis but a sociological one: Finot is interested in how a religious structure can banish 'idleness and egotism' and create a self-sustaining community.

The Limits of Finot's Evidence

While Finot draws on traveler accounts and historical records, the excerpts reveal gaps in his argument. He does not explain how Mormon theology—its claims of new revelation, its practice of polygamy (mentioned as a legal conflict)—relates to the broader occult revival he describes in the preface. The transition from the war's spiritual crisis to a detailed study of a single American sect feels abrupt. Finot seems more interested in organizational mechanics than in doctrine: he praises Mormonism's 'paternal influence' and 'administrative freedom' but offers little about its supernatural claims. Readers should note that the excerpts cover only the preface and part of the Mormon chapter; the full work likely examines other movements, but the available text does not reveal which ones or how Finot connects them.

Finot's book is best approached as a document of its time—a post-war attempt to map the shifting landscape of belief. His focus on practical organization over theological content suggests a skeptical but curious mind. Readers interested in early 20th-century religious studies will find value in his detailed descriptions, but should be aware that the work's conclusions are shaped by the specific historical moment of 1920, not by later scholarship.