Loedinger, my former prison-mate, approached me and said that it would be necessary to prevent any conclusion being reached on that day, and that we should govern ourselves by the course that the neighboring state decided upon. I asked him whether the party had determined on this. He said, "No," and told me that his only object was to bring about a postponement in case the probable issue seemed adverse to us. I felt that this would be impossible. I entered the chamber more agitated than I have ever been. I had never in all my life been obliged to conceal anything, and now I had to face my associates with a weighty secret on my mind. I saw the ministers enter and take their seats, and could not help thinking, "You will soon be seated there." One minister whom we knew to be of our party came down to where I was sitting and shook hands with me. He spoke with confidence and hopefulness. I noticed Funk pointing at me, and could hear the loud laughter that followed on the part of the group that surrounded him. The President took his seat; the ringing of the bell agitated me; the decisive moment approached. I looked up. Annette nodded to me. Richard was seated at her side. I was obliged to drive out all roving thoughts, for it was now necessary to concentrate all my energies on one object. The proceedings began. My friend Loedinger, who had been seated at my side, was the first speaker, and supported the motion in favor of taking the field. He spoke with great fervor, and invoked the spirits of those who had gone before us. "Would that the mighty spirits of the past could descend to us this day," were his words, while his own utterances were those of a spirit pure and beyond reproach. When he finished his remarks, a storm of applause followed. I grasped his hand; it was cold as ice. 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."