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that he was on firm ground. He rejoiced with the enthusiasm of a child because the subjects with which he was to occupy himself were so evident that there could be no further reasons for doubt. He no longer wished to be the everlasting skeptic, the never-ceasing wrecker of the status quo. Now the work of clearing had been performed and he considered the time of reconstruction to be at hand.

His miscalculations were of a most serious nature. He delved into the exact sciences, but everywhere he came across great blanks, which he could not call exact. This caused a break with the natural sciences in general, and from having been a simple-hearted, naïve believer, he became in this province also the revolutionary Loke.

Three years afterwards he bursts out in his Sylva Sylvarum: “A generation that has had the courage to dethrone God the Father, to tear down the state, the church, the commonwealth, and morals, still bows before the sciences. But in the sciences where liberty ought to rule, the pass-word is: Believe in the authorities or die! A pillar of the Bastille had not yet been raised in Paris on the spot where the former Sorbonne was situated, and the cross still dominated the Pantheon and the cupola of the Institute.

“There was, therefore, nothing more to do in the world, and feeling that I was superfluous, I determined to disappear.”

Thus Strindberg's endeavor to find something exact