understood that by Individuality we mean only the per- sonal, sensuous existence of the Individual, which is the true meaning of the word; and by no means deny, but rather expressly teach and inculcate, that the One Eternal Idea assumes a new and hitherto unknown form in each In- dividual in whom it comes to Life, and this by its own power and under its own legislation, and quite independ- ently of physical nature:—consequently in no way deter- mined thereto by the sensuous Individuality, but on the contrary abolishing such Individuality altogether, and of FARTHER DELINEATION OF THE THIRD AGE, 75 itself alone moulding the Ideal Individuality, or, as it may be more properly called, Originality.
Finally, in this connexion let us add the following:—We by no means assume here the strict tone and compulsive form of demonstration; but, in addressing open and unpre- judiced minds, we have limited ourselves to the modest style of popular lectures, and to the moderate desire of holding intercourse with such minds in a convenient and becoming way. But should there be some one who loves to examine and judge upon more special grounds, and wishes to do so here; then let it not be conceald from him that, not- withstanding our apparent superficiality, we have yet surrounded him with a chain of argument, which he may well consider and bethink himself what link of it he shall first attempt to break. Should he say,—‘ All this devotion of Life to the. realization of an Idea is a mere chimera to which we ourselves have given birth;’— then we have proved to him historically, that at all times there have been men who have led this Life in the Idea, and that all things great and good which now exist in the world, are the products of this Life. Or should he say,— ‘Even if this has been so, this way of Life is an old folly and superstition, and our present enlightened Age is far above it;;—then we have shown that since he himself cannot re- frain from admiring and reverencing, even against his will, such a mode of Life, there must lie at the bottom of this admiration and reverence a principle to this effect,—that the personal life ought to be dedicated to the Idea; and thus, by his own confession, such a mode of Life is approved by the voice of Reason immediately audible within us, and therefore is no superstition. Both these positions being cut off, there would remain no other course for him but to declare boldly that he has never discovered in him- self any such specific feeling as that of admiration or reverence, and that it has never happened to him to reverence or respect anything;—and in this case he 76 LECTURE V.
would have entirely got rid of our premises and therefore of all their consequences; and we should then be perfectly satisfied with him.
In the extended picture of the Third Age which it is now my duty to present to you, I ought, perhaps, in the opinion of most of those who may have considered the matter, to proceed to a description of the relation of the Present Age to the several forms of the One Idea which I have set forth in the last lecture; and this plan I have approximately followed in the general characterization of the Age which is contained in the second lecture.
But I have already stated, and I now repeat, that the fundamental maxim of this Age is to accept nothing but that which it can understand:—tbe point upon which it takes its stand is thusa conception. It has also been already shown that it does not attain the Epochal character, and assume the rank of a separate Age, so long as it only blindly follows this maxim; but that it can then only be clearly understood when it recognises itself in this maxim, and accepts it as the Highest. Hence the dis- tinctive and peculiar characteristic of this Age is this notion of conception, and it bears the form of Knowledge; —only the empty form, indeed, since that from which alone Knowledge derives its value, the Idea, is wholly wanting here. Hence, in order to get at the root of this Age, we must first speak of its system of Knowledge. In our description of this system, its views of the fundamen- tal forms of the Idea,.as necessary parts of the system itself, must Hhkewise come into view.
In order to give you, in this place, a still more compre- hensive glance of what you have now to expect, I add the following ground of distinction, to which I have not yet adverted. The maxim of the Age is to accept nothing but that which it can understand,—understand, that is to say, through the mere empirical conceptions of Experience;— FARTHER DELINEATION OF THE THIRD AGE, Un and, therefore, wherever the Age can establish itself in suffi- cient power and consistency, it sets up this maxim as its scientific principle, and by it estimates and judges every acquisition of knowledge. But it cannot fail that others, not so entirely under the rule of the prevailing spirit, but without having yet descried the morning-dawn of the new Age, must feel the infinite emptiness and platitude of such a maxim; and then, imagining that to get at the True we have only to reverse the False, are disposed to place all wisdom in the Incomprebhensible and the Unintelligible. But since these too, with their whole mode of thinking, arise out of the Age, and are nothing but its reaction against itself; so, notwithstanding the antagonism of their principles, they as well as the others are products of the Age, and under other conditions would have been but the residue of a former Time; and he who would comprehend the Knowledge of the Age, must bring forward and investigate both principles:— as we shall do, There is now only one more general remark with which I must preface our delineation, namely, the following:— Whether that which we call the Third Age is precisely our own, and whether the phenomena which I shall de- rive by strict deduction from the principle of this Age, are those which now exist before our eyes;—on this point I have more than once said I leave you to form your own judgment. But in case any one should desire to pass such a judgment, it is necessary to guard him against such reasoning as the following:—‘ Well, suppose that it cannot be denied that this is the case at present, yet it is by no means a feature peculiar to our Age, but may always have been so. With this view, when speak- ing of any phenomena of which this might by possibility be said, I shall call to your recollection Ages in which it was otherwise than it is now.
78 LECTURE Y.
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 par- ticular discoursing of Knowledge,—it is neither powerfully drawn towards any one subject, nor does it thoroughly pene- trate 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 fickle- ness; 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 poimt 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 dis- covery 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 FARTHER DELINEATION OF THE THIRD AGE, G® all its parts proceeding from, and referred back to, one central point; but they rather resemble a cloud of sand in which each grain is a whole to itself, and which is. only held together by the inconstant wind. It seems a master-stroke of invention in such an Age to hit upon the mode of communicating knowledge after the order of the letters of the alphabet. Hence its representa- tions can never possess clearness; the want of which is supplied by a tiresome perspicacity amounting to noth- ing more than frequent repetition of the same thing. Wherever this Age attains to its full efficiency, this mode of communication even comes to understand itself and to represent itself as worthy of imitation; so that from thenceforward elegance is placed in neither giving the reader the trouble of thinking for himself, nor in any way calling forth his own independent activity, which indeed is considered obtrusive;—and the classical writings of the Age are those which every one may read without preparation, and peruse, and lay aside, and still remain exactly what he was before. Not sohe who has Ideas to com- municate and who is moved by Ideas to such communica- tion. Not he himself speaks, but the Idea speaks, or writes, in him with indwelling power;—and that only is a good discourse wherein the speaker does not so much declare the thought, as the thought declares itself by the organ of the Speaker. That such discourses have been delivered, at least in former times, and that it has not always been the fashion to avoid arousing independent thought in the mind of the hearer or reader, is proved by the writings which are left to us of classical antiquity; the study of which, indeed, and of the languages in which they are written, will be discountenanced and discarded by the Third Age wherever it acts consequentially,—in order that its own produc- tions alone may be held in honour and esteem.
The Idea, and the Idea only, fills, satisfies, and blesses the mind:—an Age without the Idea must therefore neces- 80 LECTURE V.
sarily suffer from the consciousness of unsatisfied vacuity, which manifests itself in an infinite, unappeasable, con- stantly recurring weariness:—it must be wearied as well as wearisome. In this unpleasant state of feeling it grasps eagerly at that which seems its only remedy,— namely, Wit; either for its own gratification, or else to break, from time to time, the weariness which it is con- scious of producing in others, and thus, in the long deserts of its seriousness, to sow here and there some grain of sport. ‘This design must indeed of necessity fail, for he only is capable of Wit who is susceptible of Ideas.
Wit is the communication of profound Truth,—that is, of Truth belonging to the region of Ideas,—in its most direct. and intuitive aspect. In its most direct and intuitive aspect, 1 say;—and in this respect Wit is the opposite of - the communication of the same Truth in a chain of con- secutive reasoning. When, for example, the philosopher separates an Idea, step by step, into its individual com- ponent parts; interprets each of these separate parts, one after the other, by means of some other conception which limits and defines it, and pursues this course until he has exhausted the whole Idea; then he proceeds in the way of methodical communication and proves indirectly the truth of his Idea. Should it happen, however, that he can at last encompass the whole Idea in its absolute unity with one single light-beam which shall, as with a lightning flash, illumine and reveal it, and penetrate each intelligent hearer or reader, so that he must at once exclaim, ‘ Yes, truly, so is it; now I see it at one glance;’ —then is this the representation of the Idea in question in its most direct and intuitive aspect, or its expression by Wit; and in such a case by direct or positive Wit. Again, Truth may also be proved indirectly, by showing the folly and error of its opposite; and when this is done, not by methodical and gradual exposition, but in im- mediate and intuitive clearness, then this is indirect, FARTHER DELINEATION OF THE THIRD AGE. 81 and, in relation to the Idea, negative Wit; exciting laughter in those to whom it is addressed:—it is Wit as the source of the Ridiculous; for Error in its direct and intuitive aspect is essentially ridiculous.
What this Age attempts to reach is not Wit in the first sense, of which even its theories are silent, but in the second,—namely, in the form of derision, and as ex- citing laughter;— laughter being a means pointed out by the instinct of Nature itself, for refreshing the mind exhausted by long-continued weariness, and in some measure enlivening its stagnation by the stirring emotion which it communicates. But even in this shape Wit remains necessarily inaccessible to this Age, for in order freely to perceive and represent Error in direct and self-evident clearness it is necessary to be oneself superior to Error, This Age has no Wit;—but rather it is often the object of Wit, and that most frequently when, in its own estimation, it is most witty;—ze. it then manifests to the intelligent observer, in its own person, Folly and Error in their highest perfection; but without the slightest suspicion of doing so. He who, in order to paint the Age to the life, has put things into its mouth to which it often unexpectedly gives utterance with the greatest possible gravity—he may securely call himself a Wit.
How then does the Third Age acquire its measure of the Ridiculous, and the kind of scoffing irony which serves it in place of Wit?) Thus:—it sets it down as indisputable that its Truth is the right Truth; and whatever is contrary to that must be false. Should any one then take up the op- posite position he is of course in error,—which is absurd: and hereupon it shows, in striking examples, how entirely different the opposite view is from its own, and that in no single point can they coalesce; which indeed may be true. This once laughed at, it readily finds those who will join the laugh, if it only apply to the right quarter. Assuming a scientific form, according to established custom, this L 82 LECTURE V.
principle is soon understood and dogmatically announced; and it now appears as an axiom to this effect,—that ‘ Ridicule ts the touchstone of truth, and consequently that anything may be at once recognised as false, without farther proof, if a jest can be raised at its expense,—in the manner indicated above.
Observe the immense advantages which an Age ac- quires through this, at first sight, insignificant discovery. In the first place, it is by this means established in secure possession of its own wisdom; for the Age will always be careful not to apply this test of the Ridiculous to its own Knowledge, nor to join in the laugh should others so apply it,—an application which is not at all impossible. It is thus spared the trouble of disproving what is brought against it, and has no more to do than to show how far this is from agreement with its own views, and from having hit the mark of its opinion; thus making its opponents ridiculous, and,—should it bring ill-humour in its train,— suspected and even hated. Finally, this laughter is in itself a pleasant and healthy recreation, by which the most oppressive ennui may frequently be dispelled.
No!—I speak to all here present without exception, in whom I believe that I speak not to members of the Third Age, with whom indeed I never wish to speak, nor to mem- bers of any other Age,—but of whom I suppose that they are with myself elevated above all Time, and are now looking down on this particular portion of it:—no, J say, Wit is a godlike spark, and never condescends to Folly. It dwells eternally with the Idea, and never quits its fellowship. In its first shape, it is the wonderful light-conductor in the Spiritual World, by which Wisdom spreads from the point on which she first alights until she reach and embrace all other points. In its second shape, it is the avenging lightning of the Idea, which seeks out every folly, even in the midst of its disciples, and surely strikes it to the FARTHER DELINEATION OF THE THIRD AGE. 83 ground. Whether hurled by the hand of an individual with deliberate aim, or not so directed, it still, even in the latter case, reaches its object with the sure course of concealed and inevitable fate. Like the suitors of Penelope, who, when already beset with impending de- struction, raved through the dim palace-halls of Ithaca, with frenzied laughter mocking their lugubrious aspects; so do these laugh with insensate mirth, for in their laugh- ter the Eternal Wit of the World-Spirit laughs at them. We shall not grudge them this enjoyment, and we shall be careful not to take the bandage from their eyes.
LECTURE VI.
LECTURE VI.
SCIENTIFIC CONDITION OF THE THIRD AGE.
THE principle of the Third Age,—that Age which we have undertaken to describe,—is now sufficiently apparent:— this, namely,—to accept nothing whatever but that which it understands. The Comprehensible is its highest Idea;—it is thus Scientific in its form; and any complete delineation of it must commence with a description of its Scientific position, because it here becomes most clear and intel- ligible to itself; and from this, its best defined point, all its other characteristics may most readily be deduced, In our last lecture, we described this Scientific position in the first place as regards its form,—that is, by means of certain general and fundamental peculiarities which are visible in all its phenomena, and which spring directly from its essential characteristic—its incapacity for the Idea, The Idea, we said, was the source of all power; this Age must therefore necessarily be feeble and powerless:—the Idea was the source of a perennial satisfaction; this Age must therefore be conscious of an emptiness which it en- deavours to supply by means of Wit, although this is unattainable by it. To-day we desire to present you with a concise description of this Scientific position itself as it actually exists.
In the first place, let me remark what J have already mentioned in passing on a previous occasion, but here de- 86 LECTURE V1.
sire to enforce, and for the first time to apply:—Every possible Age strives to encompass and pervade the whole Race; and only in so far as it succeeds in doing this does it manifest the true character of an Age, since besides this Life of the Race there is nothing remaining but the phenomena of individual life.
So also the Third Age. It is in its nature an Age of Knowledge; and it must therefore labour and strive to raise all Mankind to this position. To this Age, Un- derstanding, as the highest and decisive tribunal, pos- sesses a value in itself; and indeed the highest value, determining all other value: hence men are esteemed only in so far as they readily receive or studiously acquire the Conceptions of the Understanding, and easily apply and clearly discriminate among them;—and all the efforts of the Age in the Culture of Mankind must be directed to this end. It matters not that individual voices may be heard from time to time exclaiming—‘ Act! act!—that is the business: what shall mere knowledge avail us?’— for either hy such action is meant only another form of learning; or else those voices are but the reaction against itself of an Age dissatisfied with its own emptiness, of which we have already made mention in our last lecture: and by such a reaction this Age, in all its varied manifestations, is usually accompanied. In judging of this point, the decisive test is the Education which an Age bestows on the children of all classes, but particularly on those of the people. Is it found that, among all classes, the aim of such Education is that children should Anow something; and that, in particular among the people, the main ob- ject is that they should be enabled to read with facility, and, so far as it may be attainable, to write also; and generally, that they should acquire the Knowledge pe- cular to the class on whom their Education devolves: as for example, where that Education is entrusted to the clerical body, that they should be well versed in SCIENTIFIC CONDITION OF THE THIRD AGE, 87 a systematic and tabular code of dogmatics under the name of a catechism;—is this, I say, found to be so?—then experience makes good that which we have said. Should other maxims of popular Education here and there make their appearance, and even be in part carried out, this is but the reaction:-—the former is the rule, without which indeed no reaction could take place.
It is impossible that these influences, directed upon the Age on all sides and from every quarter, should entirely fail of their purpose. Every individual, even the most insigni- ficant and least cultivated, will in some measure acquire an independent consciousness and knowledge of himself; that is, since the enlightenment of the Age is throughout ne- gative, he will by means of reflection raise himself above something which has been taught him in his youth, and will no longer be restrained by many things which before re- strained him. And thus does man recognise himself as Man, attain to independent thought, and the whole Age transforms itself into a fixed camp of Formal Knowledge, —in which, indeed, many and various degrees of rank are to be found, but where each brings his contribution to the common armoury.
I trust that no one here will so far misunderstand what I have said, as to suppose that I unconditionally condemn the characteristics of this Age which we have now adduced, and thereby attach myself to a party which has already appeared in many shapes, and lately in that of Philosophy also, and which in every shape it has assumed has rightly borne the name of Obscuranti. Were the Knowledge of the Third Age Knowledge of the right sort, it should in that case deserve no blame for its striving to reach all men of every class. Rather do those representatives of the Age, who desire to retain their wisdom to themselves, and will not allow it to be spread forth among the masses, only exhibit their inconsistency on a new side. The Age which succeeds the Third,—that of True Know- 88 LECTURE VIL.
ledge,—will also strive to embrace all men, for if the Laws of Reason are to be made manifest by Art through- out the whole Race, every individual of the Race must possess at least a certain amount of knowledge of these Laws, since each individual must uphold, by his own private and individual conduct, the outward and public dominion of Reason in the Race, which again reacts in aid of individual effort. All without exception must sooner or later attam to Reason as Knowledge; therefore all without exception must first be set free from the blind faith in Authority. To accomplish this is the object of the Third Age, and in this it does well.
Understanding, I said, for its own sake possesses a value to this Age,~and indeed the highest value, determining all other value; and upon it is made to depend the dignity and worth of all personality. It is therefore an honour in the estimation of this Age, simply to have thought for oneself, provided only that something new has been brought forward, even although this originality may be merely an obvious perversion of Truth. This Age will never pronounce a final judgment; and by this judgment arrive at ultimate Truth, where it might then remain steadfast and for ever:—it is too faint-hearted to do this;—it only desires a treasury of materials for opinion, among which it may have the power of choice, should it at any time desire to form a judgment;— and therefore every one is welcomed who can increase this store. Thus it happens that individuals, not only without shame, but even with a certain self-satisfaction, step forth and proclaim—‘ See, here is my opinion; this is the way in which I, for my part, conceive of this matter:—for the rest I willingly allow that others may think quite differently of it, —-and that these individuals even give themselves credit for an amiable modesty of spirit;— whereas, in the truly reasonable mode of thought, it is the greatest arrogance to suppose that our personal opinion is of any essential SCIENTIFIC CONDITION OF THE THIRD AGE. 89 value, and that any one can be interested in knowing how we, important personages as we are, look upon the matter; and before the tribunal of this mode of thought no one has aright to open his mouth before he iy thoroughly satisfied that his speech shall be not of himself, but the utterance of the Pure Reason within him; and that therefore every one who comprehends him, and desires to maintain the rank of a reasonable being, will recognise his utterance as true and genuine.
Understanding, for its own sake, possesses the highest value for this Age:—this Understanding has therefore supreme Authority, and becomes the first and primitive Authority, limited by no other. Hence arises the all- ruling idea of Intellectual Freedom,—freedom of Scien- tific judgment and of public opinion. Let it be made manifest to a true son of this Age that what he has produced is absurd, ridiculous, immoral, and corrupt:— ‘That is nothing, he replies; ‘I have thought it,—of my own self I have created it,—and thought of itself is always some merit for it costs some labour; and man “must be at liberty to think what he pleases;’—and, truly, against this one can have nothing further to say. Let it be shown to another that he is ignorant of the very first principle of an Art or a Science upon the results of which he has pronounced at great length, and that the whole do- main to which it belongs is quite beyond his knowledge:-— ‘Am I thereby tacitly to understand, he replies, ‘that I ought not to have exercised my judgment under these cir- cumstances? Surely those who say this have no conception of the Freedom of Judgment which belongs of right to men of learning. If a man were in every case to study and understand that upon which he pronounces a judg- ment the unconditional Liberty of Thought would thereby be much limited and circumscribed; and there would be found exceedingly few who could venture to pronounce an opinion;—whereas the Freedom of Judgment consists m 90 LECTURE VI.