Funk requested the President to preserve order in the galleries, and said that this was not a Turners' festival.
The President reminded him that he knew his duty, and meant to perform it, and that Funk, in his eagerness, had only anticipated him.
The next speaker was "Cato." He unearthed all the grievances that Prussia had inflicted on the patriots. He called on the spirits of those who had fallen during the war of 1866, and said they might well ask those who now counselled aiding Prussia, "Are you willing to stand side by side with those who murdered us in a fratricidal war?"
When he closed, it was evident that his words had deeply moved the assembly.
I was the next to have the floor, and explained that, although brothers may quarrel among themselves, they are brethren nevertheless, and that, when an insolent neighbor endeavors to invade and destroy their home, they must unite to defend it. Addressing my opponents, I exclaimed, "You know full well what the decision will be, and I am loth to believe that you desire to embarrass or disgrace it by opposition and dissension."
Great excitement followed this remark, and prevented me from going on. I was called to order, but the President decided that my remarks had not been personal.
I endeavored to keep calm, and to weigh every word before uttering it.
In spite of this resolution, I forgot myself, and aroused a perfect storm of anger, when I expressed my deepest convictions in the following words:
"You who are seated on the other side do not believe in neutrality. Ask yourselves whether this be an honest game that you are playing. Neutrality is a hypocritical word which, translated into honest German, means willingness to aid France, a Rhenish confederation, and treason to the Fatherland!"
I was called to order and was obliged to admit that I had gone a little too far.