hat Herr Funk had spoken as if he were a friend of mine,
but that I here publicly declared that he was not my friend, and that I
was no friend of his; and that if he and his consorts really believed
the opinions that they professed, I had nothing in common with them.
For reasons best known to himself, Herr Funk had dragged my family
affairs before the assembly. I was happy to say that I had done nothing
which I need conceal. And further, as Herr Funk had found it proper to
defend me against the charge of being a friend of Prussia, I wished it
known that I was a friend of Prussia, on whose future course I based
all my hopes for the welfare of Germany.

I should not give up my office until the term for which I was elected
expired: when that time came they might reelect me, or replace me by
another, as they thought best.

Virtuous indignation aided me in my effort, and when I finished my
remarks, Richard told me that he had never heard me speak so well. I am
by nature soft-hearted, perhaps indeed too much so; but I can deal
unmerciful blows when they are needed. There is an old saying that a
rider should alight and kill the mole-cricket that he sees while on his
way, for it destroys the roots of the grass. It was a similar feeling
that made me refer to Funk in the way I had done.

To the best of my knowledge, I had never before that had an enemy; now
I knew that I had one. And an enemy may be likened to a swamp with its
miasmatic vapors and noisome vermin. It had been reserved for my later
years to teach me what it is to have enemies and how to meet their
works.

The worst of all is, that a fear of committing injustice makes us
insincere. And when at last this fear gives way to one's horror of
wickedness, they say, "He was not truthful; he was hypocritical, and
simulated friendship for one whom he despised."

Be that as it may, I was, at all events, glad that I would not again
have to take Funk by the hand. It has been my great fault and
misfortune that I could never learn to believe in the utility of
falsehood. Perhaps it was nothing more than a love of comfort that
actuated me; for it is very troublesome to be always on one's guard.
Where I might have done myself good through shrewdness and foresight, I
had simply made myself an object of pity.

It seemed that the affair was not to pass over without a fracas. The
anger which I had controlled found vent through another channel, none
other than Rothfuss.

I saw hi