We commence the delineation of the scientific condition of the Third Age, by a description of its form,—that is, of the fixed and essential peculiarities which permeate its whole existence; and we trace these peculiarities in this way:—
When the Idea enters into life it creates an inexhaustible power and energy, and only from the Idea can such energy arise: an Age without the Idea must therefore be a weak and powerless Age; and all it does, all wherein it shows any sign of life, is accomplished in a languid and sickly manner, without any visible manifestation of energy. And, with respect to its pursuits,—since we are now in particular discoursing of Knowledge,—it is neither powerfully drawn towards any one subject, nor does it thoroughly penetrate any; but, impelled by a momentary caprice or other passion, one day to this and another day to that subject, it satisfies itself with glancing at some superficial Appearance, instead of penetrating to the inmost Truth. In its opinions on these subjects, such an Age is dragged here and there by the blind influence of association, consistent in nothing but in this universal superficiality and fickleness; and in its first principle,—that in this levity true wisdom consists. Not so with him who is animated by Knowledge in the form of the Idea. It has arisen upon him in one particular point of enquiry, and to this one point it holds his whole life and all its powers enchained, until it becomes perfectly clear to him and sheds forth a new light on the entire Universe of Thought. That such men have formerly existed, and that Knowledge has not always been prosecuted in such a shallow and feeble manner as that in which the Third Age must necessarily pursue it, is proved at least by the discovery of Mathematics among the ancients. Finally, in its communication of thought, whether in speech or in writing, the same mediocrity and feebleness are apparent. These communications never show forth an organic whole, with
