the fish in the water.  He who produced nothing was a parasite, and deserved to be extirpated; he was only a drag, consequently a poison for the rest of mankind.  The Commune in Paris was the first signal of warning for the thieves of society.  Soon the great flood would burst forth which would carry away all thieves and tyrants, usurers and bloodsuckers, and the workingmen must be united and get their weapons ready.  Unity was strength, and to allow themselves to be fleeced by these hyenas of capitalism was an insult to any free, thoughtful man.

He went on in this style for about half an hour, during which time the words came out in a constant stream without a moment’s pause.  Schrotter’s expression became sad, while Paul banged the table with his mug and cried “Bravo” at every grammatical mistake, or every false analogy.  Angry glances were cast at him from neighboring tables, as in his applause was recognized contempt for the speaker whom they admired so much.  No one laughed or joked, all were silent to the end; at every violent expression of the long-haired Saxon, eyes flashed, heads nodded approval, and feet stamped excitedly.  So eagerly did the meeting drink in this excited orator’s words that they quite forgot to drink their beer, and the waiter, bringing in a fresh supply, had to go out again with an exclamation of surprise.

When the speaker had finished and resumed his seat, Schrotter and Paul, to their immense surprise, saw Wilhelm spring to his feet in the midst of all the stamping and applause and go to the platform.  What was that for?  He went up and began to speak in an undertone to the organizers of the meeting.  They put their heads together, looking at the card Wilhelm had given them; then one of them rose, and coming to the front of the platform, shouted so as to be heard above the clamor: 

“True to our principles of listening to opponents, we are going to allow a guest to speak:  it is not part of the programme, but no citizen shall have cause to complain that his mouth has been stopped.”

Any one could understand what this meant, as Wilhelm stood alone in the middle of the platform and waited with folded arms for silence and attention.  His dark eyes looked straight at his audience, and he began in his clear, quiet voice:  “What you all feel in this meeting is discontent with your fate, and a wish to improve it.  I do not believe, however, that the honored speaker before me has shown you a way which will bring you any nearer to your desires.  You wish that the State shall nurse you in sickness, and provide for you in old age.  What is the State?  It is yourselves.  The State has nothing but what you give it.  If it provides for you in sickness and old age, it takes the money out of your own pockets.  You do not want the State for that.  In days of health and strength you could yourselves lay aside spare money for bad times without the services of gendarmes, or assistance of executors.  The last speaker spoke of hatred for the owners of property, hatred of profit.  Hatred is a painful feeling.  It adds to the pain of existence another, and very likely a greater one.  A soul in which the poison of hate is at work is heavy and sad, and can never feel happiness.  If you would not burden your lives with hatred it might be possible that you would become happy.”