you say:-‘Hem, our nation has inherited accursed, degenerate blood,—it’s all in vain. Shame, shame. . . .’
“I could go on endlessly. . . .
“But I will only say: Our people are a stream of a great and mighty river, and he who wants to be in the lead, ought to make it his aim to find out their strength and to utilize it intelligently for the great work, and he ought not to seat himself in a boat and, raising a little banner, let himself be carried God knows whither.”
Doctor medicinæ universæ Řehák was red in the face, and he took a mighty draught.
(Reader, the author in no way identifies himself with Řehák: it is the latter who said these things,—let the inquisitorial sentence fall upon him. The author washes his hands of the affair. It was imprudent of Řehák to contradict that gentleman from Prague, that gentleman with influence and a sharp pen, who, when the proper time comes, will
