I must remind myself again that I am not writing a history of the Berlin revolution.  Nor would my own youthful impressions justify me in forming an independent opinion as to the motives of that remarkable and somewhat incomprehensible event; but, with the assistance of friends more intimately acquainted with the circumstances, I have of late obtained a not wholly superficial knowledge of them, which, with my own recollections, leads me to adopt the opinion of Heinrich von Sybel concerning the much discussed and still unanswered question, whether the Berlin revolution was the result of a long-prepared conspiracy or the spontaneous outburst of enthusiasm for liberty among the citizens.  He says:  “Both these views are equally well founded, for only the united effort of the two forces could insure a possibility of victory.”

Here again the great historian has found the true solution.  It was for the interest of the Poles, the French, and other revolutionary spirits, to bring about a bloody conflict in Berlin, and there were many of them in the capital that spring, among whom must have been men who knew how to build barricades and organize revolts; and it can hardly be doubted that, at the decisive moment, they tried to enhance the vengefulness and combativeness of the people by strong drink and fiery speeches, perhaps, in regard to the dregs of the populace, by money.  There is weighty evidence in support of this.  But it is still more certain—­and, though I was but eleven years old and brought up in a loyal atmosphere, I, too, felt and experienced it—­that before the 18th of March the general discontent was at the highest point.  There was no controlling it.

If the chief of police, Von Minutoli, asserts that he knew beforehand the hour when the revolution was to break out, this is no special evidence of foresight; for the first threat the citizens had ventured to utter against the king was in the address drawn up at the sitting of the popular assembly in Kopenickstrasse, and couched in the following terms “If this is granted us, and granted at once, then we will guarantee a genuine peace.”  To finish the proposition with a statement of what would occur in the opposite case, was left to his Majesty; the assembly had simply decided that the “peaceful demonstration of the wishes of the people” should take place on the 18th, at two o’clock, several thousand citizens taking part in it.  While the address was handed in, and until the reply was received, the ambassadors of the people were to remain quietly assembled in the Schlossplatz.  What was to happen in case the above-mentioned demands were not granted is nowhere set down, but there is little doubt that many of those present intended to trust to the fortune of arms.  The address contained an ultimatum, and Brass is right in calling it, and the meeting in which it originated, the starting point of the revolution.  Whoever had considered the matter attentively might easily say, “On the 18th, at two o’clock, it will