machine there must be a flaw, seeing that there were so many people who could and would work, and yet were doomed to despair and ruin for lack of employment.  The spring of 1878 came round, and brought with it two attempts on the life of the emperor within three weeks.  Scarcely had the people recovered from the horror caused by Hodel’s crime when it was shaken to its depths by Nobiling’s murderous shot.

On that terrible Sunday, June the 2d, Wilhelm had dined with Schrotter, and about three o’clock they started for a walk.  In the few steps that separate the Mittelstrasse from the Linden they saw what was going on in the town.  In Unter den Linden, however, they were received by the yells of the newspaper men calling out the first special editions, and found themselves in the stream of people pouring toward the Palace or to No. 18, where they pointed out the window on the second floor from which the too-well-aimed shot had fallen.

From the special editions, from the confused remarks and exclamations of the crowd in which the two friends found themselves, and the information they obtained from the grim-looking policemen, rougher and less communicative than ever, they learned all that was necessary of the bloody deed which had taken place an hour ago.  Wilhelm could scarcely control his horror, and even Schrotter, though calmer, was deeply moved and downcast.  All pleasure in their walk was gone, and they decided to return to Schrotter’s house.

“It is simply hideous,” said Wilhelm, as they turned into the Friedrichstrasse, “that we have such brutes living among us!  We know, of course, that there is a great deal of distress, but a man who can revenge his own trouble on the person of the emperor must be lower than the beasts of the field.  And men who at this time of day have such ideas on State organization are electors!”

“Good heavens!” cried Schrotter, with unconscious vehemence, “you are surely not going to make the popular mistake of drawing sweeping conclusions from these outrages?  Such occurrences have no outside importance.  They are the acts of madmen.  Their following so closely upon one another is the very surest proof of that.  There are in Germany thousands—­perhaps tens of thousands—­of unhappy creatures whose minds are more or less unhinged, though their inexperienced surroundings do not know it.  Some exceptional event will suddenly put the entire population in a state of ferment, the imagination of the already morbidly inclined will be particularly strongly affected thereby; they picture the occurrence to themselves till it takes hold of them, and drives out every other thought from their minds, becomes a nightmare, a possession, and finally an irresistible impulse to do the same.  After every event of the kind, you hear that a whole number of people have gone mad, and that their insanity is somehow connected with it.  No such thing.  They were mad before, and the insanity which had lain dormant in them only waited for a chance shock to give it definite form and character.”