le. And who decides this? The
king, no doubt, thinks that he does; the Emperor Napoleon thinks he
does. I say that these two have no more influence over the capabilities
of their people than we two have over the capabilities around us. The
State commands us, the whole evolution of mankind from its beginning
commands them. All of the race which has gone before holds them fast,
and compels them as the wheels of the State compel us. The dead sternly
point out the way to them, as the living do to us. We all of us know
nothing, kings and ministers as little as we, of the real forces at
work. What these forces will do, and what they strive to attain to, is
hidden from us, and we only see what is nearest to us, without any
connection with its causes and final operation. That is why it seems to
me better to do what one sees as one's duty at the moment, rather than
to give ourselves the absurd appearance of being free in our movements,
and certain as to our goal." Paul pressed his hand at parting, and
murmured:

"Theoretically you are right, but practically I do not see why the
tyrant at the Tuileries need begin with us. He could at least leave us
in peace."

The order for mobilization was issued. Wilhelm was surprised to receive
his appointment again as second lieutenant, and was nominated to the
61st Pomeranian Regiment. His duties during the next few days took up
the whole of his time, and left him hardly a moment to himself. He was
free only for a few hours before the march to the frontier, and then he
made all the haste he could to say good-by at the Lennestrasse. His
heart beat quickly as he hurried along, and now that the time of
separation was near, he reproached himself for the irresolution of the
last few weeks. He was going to the front without leaving a clear
understanding behind him. He tried to convince himself that perhaps it
was better so--if he fell she would be free before the world. But at
the bottom of his heart this reasoning did not satisfy him, and he
lingered over the idea of taking his weeping betrothed to his heart
before all the world, and kissing the tears off her cheeks, instead of
bidding farewell to her at the station, and holding her to him from a
distance by an acknowledged tie. Was not their love alone enough? No,
he knew that it was not, and he felt with painful surprise that his
contempt for outward appearances, his impulse after reality, were
vigorous in him as long as he followed his inmos