consider a fifty-years' interval long enough to satisfy the requirements of the "near future."
But the men who, undeterred by all the difficulties of the task, put all their energies into this stupendous undertaking of carrying scientific knowledge and scientific habits of thought among the body of the people,—are they fairly open to the accusation of having sought to incite the indigent classes to hatred of the well-to-do? Do they not thereby really deserve the thanks and the affection of the propertied classes, and of the bourgeoisie above all?
Whence arises the bourgeoisie's dread of the people in political matters?
Look back, in memory, to the months of March, April, and May, 1848. Have you forgotten how things looked here at that time? The power of the police was broken; the people filled all the streets and public places. And all streets, all public places and all the people in the hands of Karbe, Lindenmüller, and other reckless agitators like them,—men without knowledge, without intelligence, without culture, thrown into prominence by the storm which stirred our political life to its depths. The bourgeoisie, scared and faint hearted, hiding in their cellars, trembling every instant for fear of their property and their lives, which lay in the hands of these coarse agitators, and saved only by the fact that these agitators were too good-natured to make such use of their power as the bourgeoisie feared they would. The bourgeoisie, secretly praying for the reëstablishment of the police power and quaking with a fright which they have not yet forgotten, the recollection of which still leaves them incapable of taking up the political struggle.
How came it that in a city which proudly calls itself the metropolis of intelligence, in so great a city, in the home of the most brilliant intellects,—how came it that the people here for months together could be at the disposal of Karbe and Lindenmüller and could tremble before them in fear for their life and property. Where was the intelligence
