Marguerite, throwing the blue velvet cape about her bare white shoulders, paused to give the old doctor an affectionate kiss, and with a smile for me was gone. For a few moments the doctor sat musing; but when he turned to me it was to say: "I hope that you are making good use of our precious accumulation of knowledge." In reply I assured him of my hearty appreciation of the library. "You can see now," continued Zimmern, "how utterly the mind of the race has been enslaved, how all the vast store of knowledge, that as a whole makes life possible, is parcelled out for each. Not one of us is supposed to know of those vital things outside our own narrow field. That knowledge is forbidden us lest we should understand the workings of our social system and question the wisdom of it all. And so, while each is wiser in his own little cell than were the men of the old order, yet on all things else we are little children, accepting what we are taught, doing what we are told, with no mind, no souls of our own. Scientists have ceased to be men, and have become thinking machines, specialized for their particular tasks." "That is true," I said, "but what are we to do about it? You have by these forbidden books acquired a realization of the enslavement of the race--but the others, all these millions of professional men, are they not hopelessly rendered impotent by the systematic Suppression of knowledge?" "The millions, yes," replied Zimmern, "but there are the chosen few; we who have seen the light must find a way for the liberation of all." "Do you mean," I asked eagerly, "that you are planning some secret rebellion--that you hope for some possible rising of the people to overthrow the system?" Zimmern looked at me in astonishment. "The people," he said, "cannot rise. In the old order such a thing was possible--revolutions they called them--the people led by heroes conceived passions for liberty. But such powers of mental reaction no longer exist in German minds. We have bred and trained it out of them. One might as well have expected the four-footed beasts of burden in the old agricultural days to rebel against their masters." "But," I protested, "if the people could be enlightened?" "How," exclaimed Zimmern impatiently, "can you enlighten them? You are young, Armstadt, very young to talk of such things--even if a rebellion was a possibility what would be the gain? Rebellion means disorder--once the ventilating machinery of the city and the food processes were disturbed we should all perish in this trap--we should all die of suffocation and starvation." "Then why," I asked, "do you talk of this thing? If rebellion is impossible and would, if possible, destroy us all, then is there any hope?"