and foe unite in confessing the unequalled power of his eloquence. No human voice, they will tell you, ever thrilled with such music or passion. He "agitated," the whole laud-and there is not a Bauer in the villages or a Csikos on the prairies, they say, who does not remember, as the day of days, the time when, in breathless silence, he listened to those thrilling tones, as they spoke in indignation or in solemnity, of freedom, of the rights of the poor man, of the wrongs of their beloved Fatherland, of the retribution coming, and of the "God of the Hungarians."

I must mention here, however, an occurrence which took place lately in Szegedin, as showing how the "Reformer" is remembered. A file of prisoners were led into Szegedin, with a heavy Austrian guard attending them. It happened to be a market-day, on which the town is crowded with an immense mass of sturdy peasants from the whole country around. For some cause or other, the van of the soldiers had fallen a little behind, and the first prisoner entered the market-place almost alone for the moment. As he came to the spot where Kossuth's last and most spirit-stirring speeches were made, he suddenly stopped-took off his hat-raised his fettered hands to heaven, and with a voice which rang like a trumpet over the immense crowd, shouted again and again, "Eljen Kossuth! Eljen Kossuth!" In a moment, without thought of preparation or of combining, despite the Austrian cannon which commanded the town, and the long line of soldiers whose bayonets almost touched them, there came from the vast multitude a shout, like the roaring of the sea on the shore-rung out again and again, and repeated" Eljen Kossuth! Eljen Kossuth! Eljen Kossuth!" It is said the whole Austrian forces in the city were at once called out for fear of an outbreak.

66

While I was in Vienna, an instance occurred of this singular attachment of the common Hungarians to Kossuth. One of the privates in an Austrian regiment stationed in Vienna, himself a Hungarian, was overheard by his officer to say Eljen Kossuth!" He was ordered five-and-twenty," at once. It appears when a man is flogged in the Austrian army, he is obliged by law to thank the officer. Hungarian refused to do. Another "five-and-twenty" were given him. Still he refused. Again, another flogging; and the Hungarian, as he rose, muttered his thanks with the words "My back belongs to the Emperor, but my heart to Kossuth !"

This the

I doubt, however, whether Kossuth's eloquence would have so great an effect on an Anglo-Saxon audience as a Hungarian. It is too tropical almost for our latitude; too rich in splendid imagery, too poetic and passionate, to suit our cooler natures. judge alone from the written speeches? It is notorious that the reYet, who should ported orations of the two greatest orators in America-Clay, and the earlier native orator of the Revolution, Patrick Henry-never conveyed an idea of their rich eloquence. Many of Kossuth's speeches, however, as one reads them, are able political arguments, as well as passionate appeals.

• Wild cattle driver.

+ This was written before Kossuth had made his grand efforts in oratory in England and America. It is worth retaining, to show the impressions derived of him in Hungary itself, and to illustrate the extraordinary ability of the man, in adapting his speeches to different nations.

And it is very evident, even in the reports, that he was master of all the arts of oratory. His opening words they say, like the Hungarian national airs, were always low and plaintive in the utterance, and reminded you, at first, rather of some poet or contemplative clergyman, than of the political orator. But gradually his face lighted up, his voice deepened and swelled with his feeling; and there came forth tones which, for thrilling passion, and power, and sweetness-those say who heard him-were never equalled by human voice. His appeals, like those of most of the greatest orators on record, were addressed exceedingly often to the religious feelings of his hearers. In fact, this tendency of his, is perhaps one great secret of his power over the people of Hungary; for the peasantry of that land, beyond that of almost any other, are remarkable for a simple, reverent piety.*

If eloquence is to be judged from its effects, there has been no orator like Kossuth since Demosthenes. My friends have often described to me one of the most splendid of his efforts, when, in the face of a vigorous opposition, he had brought forward his Bill before the Parliament of 1848, for a levy of 200,000 men, and the raising of an immense sum of money, necessary for the war. It was the great crisis of the session, indeed of Hungary's whole history. All felt it so; all were reluctant to take the last step, which should commit them to open

war.

After a long and most eloquent argument and speech for his bill, he at length said: "To-day, we are the Ministers of the Nation; to-morrow, there may be others. That is a matter of no consequence. The ministry can change, but thou, oh, my country, must for ever endure; and with this, or another ministry, the Nation must preserve the Fatherland. Therefore, to avoid all misunderstandings, I say outright, and solemnly, that if I ask this House for 200,000 soldiers, and the necessary sum thereto, and they do not-”

We give a specimen of one of those almost prophetic appeals which Kossuth addressed to the Hungarians.

"Hear! patriots, hear! The Eternal God doth not manifest himself in passing wonders, but in everlasting laws. It is an eternal law of God, that whosoever abandoneth himself, will be of God forsaken. It is an eternal law, that whosoever assisteth himself, him will the Lord assist. It is a divine law, that swearing falsely is by its results, self-chastised. It is a law of God, that he who resorteth to perjury and injustice, prepareth his own shame, and the triumph of the righte ous cause. In firm reliance upon these eternal laws-on these laws of the universe-I aver that my prophecy will be fulfilled, and I foretell that this invasion of Jellachich, will work out Hungary's liberation.

"The Hungarian people have two duties to fulfil. The first, to rise in masses and crush the foe, invading her paternal soil. The second, to remember, if the Hungarian should neglect these duties, he will prove himself dastardly and base. His name will be synonymous with shame and wickedness. So base and dastardly, as to have himself disgraced the holy memory of his forefathers-so base, that even his Maker shall repent having created him to dwell upon this earth,-so accursed that air shall refuse him its vivifying strength,—that the corn-field, rich in blessings, shall grow into a desert beneath his hand,- that the refreshing well-head shall dry up at his approach. Then shall he wander homeless about the world, imploring in vain from compassion the dry bread of charity.

"For the consolation of religion he shall sigh in vain. The craven spirit, by which creation has been polluted, shall find no forgiveness in this world, no pardon in the next. To arms! Every man to arms! And let the women dig a deep grave between Vesyprem and Schervar, in which to bury either the name, fame, or nationality of Hungary, or our enemy.'"-Memoirs of an Hungarian Lady, by Madame Pulzky, p. 169.

Before he could finish his sentence, the House, worked up to an intense pitch of excitement by the speech, rose as one man, and shouted "We give it! we give it !"

It is said, that all Kossuth could do in reply, was to bow low to the audience, the tears flowing down his cheeks, with the words, "I bow myself before the greatness of this nation; if there be as much energy in the execution as there has been patriotism in the offer, hell itself could never conquer Hungary!"

The effect of the speech was such, that the President of the Assembly left his seat to embrace the orator, and the House instantly adjourned, as unable to attend to any other business after it. I should say, from all my opportunities of judging, that the opinion of the nation of Kossuth's character seems the correct one. That he was no general, and never claimed to be, every one must admit; that he had not the sternness of a revolutionary leader, one must also allow and can easily pardon; that he was too easily influenced by those he loved, and too often led by members of his own family, not so democratically inclined as himself, there seems reason to believe.

It is true, also, that he had reckoned on sympathy from the free and liberal everywhere in Europe, which he did not receive a mistake into which very many even in foreign lands fell, besides himself. Was it strange that a State, which had supported liberal institutions for more than six hundred years, which was now perilling its life in the defence of them, should expect some little aid from the old champions of freedom in Europe? Would it seem so extremely improbable, that England, which had often interfered in much pettier matters on the Continent, should stretch out a strong arm here, and demand "fair play" for the hard struggle for liberty? One can well pardon it in a Hungarian statesman that he expected this-and can only wonder that he was disappointed.

The work by Mr. Charles Loring Brace on Hungary in 1851, with an experience of the Austrian Police, of which a few chapters have been here given, will be published immediately by Mr. Bentley.

REVELATIONS OF A NERVOUS MAN.

CONFESSIONS and revelations are the order of the day. The whole world seems to be seized with a confiding mania, and determined to lay bare all its secrets. Every man writes his autobiography, or publishes his "reminiscences," or his "confessions," or his "revelations;" or if he doesn't do it himself, his heir or his bosom friend (or sometimes more than one) does it for him. The days are gone by when it was considered necessary for a man to have done something extraordinary to justify the publication of a history of his life. No one cares for incidente now-a-days; the life of Mr. John Smith, who was born, married, begat children, and died like nineteen-twentieths of all the John Smiths that ever existed since the deluge, is published in royal octavo-one, two, or three volumes, as the case may be as confidently as of yore, a life of Nelson, or of Napoleon, would have been submitted to the public. The strangest part of it is, that people actually read the books when they are published, and she even venture to praise them, and pronounce them deep interesting and instructive.

It has sertainly been said by some good authority (we never remember ames that if every man would but write down a daily record of his tuvugina and actiote, without goes and comment, he would make the me msrusive book ever compled With all due deference to ve BuLOPTY Viserer he may be, we don't agree with him. Take Jun Smuri afrestit, and imagine a page of His Cary, November 18, gigaw Sharing-water af ová, eut my ei is on For a line; Mr. 2. said ane

general, and tom-cats in particular, from my birth to the present

moment.

At school I was a victim to my infirmity, and got thrashed by the master for stupidity, and pommelled by my schoolfellows for cowardice, every day of my existence. And yet my deliberately formed opinion is, that I was neither a stupid nor a coward; but, however well I might know my lesson, I was so frightfully nervous when I came into the awful presence of my master to repeat it, that I could seldom utter a word. If I said anything, I generally got my French grammar jumbled together in my head with my Roman history, and probably blurted out the future tense of "aller" or "aimer" when I ought to have answered a question about the Gracchi.

Then with my schoolfellows, I was very sensitive in point of honour. When falsely accused, my blood would boil with indignation, on a question of "knuckling down" fairly at marbles, as readily as a member for South Carolina, in the United States Congress will blaze up on allusion to nigger driving. But, when my opponent coolly pulled off his jacket and made the usual school-boy appeal to "come on," I used to shake so (with agitation but not fear) that I became an easy conquest; and I verily believe that from my combined sensitiveness and nervousness, I went through a longer course of black eyes and bloody noses than ten average boys.

My father was an old soldier, and though he declared that the army was going to the dogs in these days (everything is going to the dogs in the opinion of old gentlemen in general, so that we shall have the dogdays all the year round, I presume), still he destined me for a commission in that service. I got one in due time in the th Foot, and joined my regiment. How easy it is to write those words! and yet how terrible a thing was it for me to do. Even the strongminded and thick-skinned of the rising generation find it rather embarrassing; but to me it was torture, and I am morally convinced that every man in the regiment thought me an idiot at my first mess dinner. Indeed, I felt convinced that they did so at the time and I leave it to a sympathizing reader to imagine the pleasant sensations that such a conviction must have produced in my highly nervous brain. I have confused recollections of drinking out of my finger glass, when asked to take wine with the Colonel, and of handing the doctor a potato when he asked me to pass the bottle; and I can distinctly remember mixing sherry with my pale ale, and drinking it as gravely as if it were the most ordinary beverage in the world.

Although my brother officers were too polite to pretend to observe these little peculiarities of mine at first, yet I soon became the victim of daily "larks" on their part. A few grains of gunpowder were occasionally put on the wick of my chamber candlestick, which going off with a "whiz," would make me jump, to the intense delight of the man who lived below me, and had probably contrived the affair. Once I found a toad in my bed, and once a hedgehog; while a rat in my chest of drawers, and sulphur portraits of his infernal majesty staring at me from the wall when I had put out the light and jumped into bed, varied the entertainments provided for me.

As I said before, I am nervous, but not a coward, and therefore I was obliged to fight a duel with one of my brother officers whose jokes had assumed the form of a complete insult. It was a bloodless one, for he