break of the war sixteen Czech political newspapers used to appear in southern Bohemia. Of these up to now eight have voluntarily stopped publication or have been ordered to do so. Of those suppressed by the authorities the Cesky Jih appeared at Tabor, Straz na Sumave at Strakonitz, and three at Budweiss: Nashe Slovo, the Social-Democratic Jihocesky Delnik, and the National-Socialist Straz Lidu.”
Or, again, we may look at the Arbeiter-Zeitung of November 26th, 1915, and find the following short and eloquent note, which shows with what edifying impartiality the Austrian police performs its work:
“The organ of the Czech Jews, Rosvoj, at Prague, and the paper of the Roman Catholic women, Jitrenka, at Königgrätz, have been suppressed for the duration of the war.” And no one should think that these few notices quoted above are specially picked or chosen. One can come across them any day in Austrian papers, and with them one usually finds short notices of punishments imposed on editors and writers. And yet, in spite of all that oppression, the Czechs speak out again and again. In highly scientific papers, in between dry technical articles over which the Censor must have fallen asleep or which he passed unread, thinking them too tedious to concern anybody, one can find occasionally a short line bearing the appearance of a learned reference or footnote, but saying: “Czechs, remember your fateful hour has come,” or containing some similar warning. And one such cry, when it reaches the ears of those to whom it is addressed in the midst of that mournful and yet eloquent silence which now reigns in Bohemia, says more than long and en-
