The Sun. — London, England, 1851-11-13 00:00:00

------; ; at " ul of a ud hilefre 1014 e, of g y p adl .I.—quarter' I meri f or T sj ci leak'' , 6 , r , kith rig g ' .5 hba toDs er. •, ,0 of 0 13 0 , b , go 01 tersburgb e of oe ijoui , I ) B ect ed ,„ t : b e e rl ' es term A of °: arg- Gas" ( f )1 s° f; e s,e. ba ri a d she ea if i s b sc boo' , soulb col 0 0 9 - the lu sao ye , t be bet° e n efi n etl of 5 te f 0 51 )10 o rot Cbs l " of 9 . s „ d or) bie edrto be IP , o ibe erl ieli por sll3 ee d) 11 roPe"s fl'rn i f rg ; 5 94 b Pr' DAY') ASH 0 fOli ,4159 , 01 0 2s id so 51 to 3 11 5i0 l a ,„ ° o4 lld. u ,, to t ' ) 91 I I ° t ' ') dal L 11 5 " to 5 11 0 11614 ° ra le d s r 3e e ices ss $l3 Yes Os , tie' 3 a e rf 110; 0 fe 0' 519.: 0 00111 39 , a t o rte t , a (e e' 0 0° t o s'l 61 per cos l of° [ol o ' , j s oi lod j IcOSSUTH. METROPOLITAN BOROUGHS' DAY.) ~,,EIIIOZSTRA.TION.-(rills t 6 'ae,taithileclass de monstration iu favour . ,h o e f i t i h a e no il v t i 'as hossuth to,li Place this afternoin m ' n cd th at no ante R ooms. I t h a d hen previously arra uq g the corn. e 'houlbe admitted without a ticket; Pas and the Seats R ite weedaly as respectable as tP'sereaerved for the ladies, and the managers nnm o t t o th a e atb dc i - t lltristrktt„ien had the courtsy lind good holykareuki,iere , the general public. Finsb s u e r n y s v, e Lamb ,e e v t , h ,.: hol y te.oLe, 'aitl, work, and IA estminster, " t . h e e r e ir b posi. presented by deputations, who took up made a pro fa% c l l ., °l i e front ranks of the meeting, 1 and rosettes. Many of th 4113'33! of white wands and . tricolor et: bbons in their b, )4 e ladles wore the same bright . ri karolets, While a few enthusiastic admirers of the great 1,..4,, appeared ia chapeaux a /a o'clock, but 1.1 0 1- ' doors were not opened until twelve and strei to Hongrie. qt ?ef,,re that hour the adjacent square I tiN;‘,lellked with people,respectably-dressed wasnreat;jactici.'do. listicotti"pgatbnlaet thendatinhosph, rxehlftttheed morning patience as kiwit'u,.'ng for a ad al i til e sS y i 0:. The interior ro,t: ethr,_..ga. tia,'_o,eiou6l3, fitted up for the occasion. platform, Llue th e • L ` Hill were raised behind the . 41;4°1'4 Jack of old England and th for the the star 1 kati,t.°l America The platform .vas re officers, who ir e - ". l ag e ,nicoittee and the Hungarian. kt4oB,l°Jlirtiqg with us as exiles from theirn e th scats glt w heat we observed Rungo BaPPTet e llto ,l l t ! t t'e of the East. In the centre 1.041,443 were placed on a raised and eminence,hs, mhea,tal p vtntagi r , el land, i d n , th t , o.,,Judiey stuarr, the chairman of t L ,aer tor the obj ec t of e the _ono l c a nab t :if fo itof r hon m er. -vel e ii„, e. illustrious keeee4" eonfus:on occurred before the koil th'"gi, owing to the crowded state to invade: t , deter determination of a few individuals but an ar kal , °1 the seata set apart for the ladles, o opening i t n h g e room k4t Was tr • lad e to their gallantry, and they to the . ti ,t 14 favour of those who were entitl ed sooner been got data4of olkllis difficulty, however, had no thrown into the ultimately Sti ll ia,ii another apple of discord was was con- Nt ed 4 , ", the arrival of Feargus O'Connor, woo n outburst of it,ilflihat°o.! seat on the platform aMindusttes. At length , c ' l re leaaa. which lasted for some m t. i ~ Turn him out. p , 4 t, o gt! (I'm almost universal cry . 0 of the mane rt e0,,,,,,ff, off r but Mr. Lewis, Otilititl,,t geel,lasdt ep p e c t l f f o o r r w a therd apnudrrpoeenmseei reminded doef d rtehnefdemeerlienntgg pti)rwar'4;Zossatha,leand not to manifest might happen a 'll4/, ./„Polltical personage who 4ri:ri!:ileseti°ll;:to:rtltly:cebting seemed to seeme t n y . lal d t d o a i es be , eutith abraded b y madame 1 1u e l a sIty and s other the force ed o ia f at t e h l i: 4r.i4Sr(l, I,_, before oneo'clock, and Imm em. the platform. m 4 i :of t, a14k..0 31191 himself, surrounded by 1011e..ParsbIllaging committee, ascended . the of hats, whichwas e ll r 4,4;1 Was of course the . signal for a tremendous Nl:hewed seats and enthusiastic V t °terl t ' 41 4 and again. wavingLordDudley Stuart ... T i k ddr e4B ° the chair, and the ceremonial of presenting tie'ue i 4,8 Los proceeded with. s li ' itO,' lin presenting the Westminster 11i `` t 144 nateions I hold in my hand ad tiv'opid , '3lr,---The .address of the citizens of Wes and hi i,tri ph alai 4 P!lbl'e meeting 20th October last,. 14,,e„ k eetin la this room on the b iiirtY,ttahl, It,wss presided over entaves in Par- to, -ilt f k%•13. one of the Repres addsess is as '4l, e l the c. ' • The y General Sir De ai,, ity of Westminster. 11),,,5ir,,t. " TO LoUis itcssuTH. 4' qti tga t i, r od by profound sympathy aelttrteftt;"a People, and by a P h: L tl t cti at e fandanaental principlesd liberty, 11,,,,yet, ple essential to the maintenance - of fo i r n y t eernerssteilnf and of ee freedom, and the 10' wr i r. and Hungary have nobly t Q iil eci)T t i,zen s Westminster, inp public meeting congratula tte, fortil'e eaire roof manifest our cordial u struggled__ e to W, , %lit, fr Preaervatiort of your life, all free men. tri,,liiit ~e . 41 the foe of freedom and of presence on l'ili "Ith thank s 1 God your nd your and for your de tea4 tro ll ~u ness to t qth nu' Tho which you a% ttll l ea ha, se institutions iiiiqi ha to. striven to defend amidst d t a h r e ig, s r - p t i t r n i d t t h'ilat ha PHY enjoy; we trust th,astws of na- Ileiti. and Preserved the ancient I the k ti ,:tt NO,I local se lf - government _ amongst by your kt7ti 14 4 e Will be stimulated and advanced l'till'ltta brgehjea• We desire that the tt liberty 1 ,4 Itiki"11:1 siles of the Atlantic shou p l w d e- w a b . e e r armed t1i:414,t4 reripenil°oe and extension of h - If, ti le 10 t c: vtiernative government, duty, and 1 9 i) tePohde "'lightened Ilan sense of dignity, displayed. wherever ti the ha li 41 t ia !Ice 110 1 as zary has recently 4i titi.ttitdtbt-ths privileges valiantly -- . won h a ti n v d e d re e s s o ca lu u t d e_ e l3 d , Piti'' shod by our forefathers and which of pros y ittki sot be for in the enjoyment io k ‘ l t keepPaace; but that our minds e a y nd me o n u t t r_ a hearts _ t l r e i t aqa t , 41, vigilant watch over them, so h r k h i tiori: tl thi 1, 8 7 8 e. Id be re Pell ed, an d our birthright - IlMo til th e „, ' tnable value of the hope that the h )4, Peopl, 410 , it is our earnest t ea m 4t Co. A id while thus rioners.oplrveedd obtaincs t p o 0 tnurturedespots; to cm' ;1i444 itql,AraaY (at all times) be ready venting other I,lPitk)lstrti,„`4,.eo and resources similar .'ile l , Nal tß.log to defend for Nliii.,,b 'al)houeltlg assaulted by foreign °achy with ttl'tritaY., or Iji?loodshed, and have no sym. , ei, t pe et,r4 revolutions which merely effect a re the adm•i s.,i, t f or 0, Of. d espotism, we . feel bo t u h n e d t t i o m m e a w n i. i l - 1 09 wc of ~t.lt',li oational efforts to =pro it ' r a *4l;n %Inlet affairs. Confident that the nations of a;iteSll4) n,l3hr4v4rY 4 TICI the more enlg _:i, again make klii,ti,)44leitoeta for .of your careera,ttwaniLnielt of people eonn-f it ,o,itt.;')ttvtler.,:itZitt.i,eivr:eoveryriobrt 1 doubt t that th . e s till,eti o i ll h v 4, th© United States of Aemrevre's° to succour t, 41 4 ' 41i: told re„;',tr');lß ( rms . and firm nerves We cantchoe 441t°t'd p, P hrtu tti , urelgn interfere will then NNO Ntli e 1 to pass without in detainee N I grid Ina .Protection afforded Porte to !litt'le t .„ arid 81ina menaces) b the Sublime took refuge illeridlime bthq.applauding of ho noble Patriots who n uffera eNie,tt.ibllts of-3Pitality; and permit us tau, giO- Off l (4 b 1344 to tlrlfeigtled sorrow for theh fellln fia the tt:t rhe a t he or Your n,, righteous cause w-0. ne_. We '4I„ Y Will° asttic,;'"or the Austrian executiossurred that le,,,ett ~,tietai,,llta to you because we are a 114.41te t l k ( itir tr ,'.e, and rejoice your heart, er cease (4.ikaty ° I. th,, " hie efforts which you can nev of " l 4 1 e°'lltaoti cause and common weal and lend tti"ting vr 11t, ~,:_a__lii proceeding when our report left.) -------________ p 14e,Itte TELEGRAP '. % 114 THIS bAy.) 1, I\llOQ, "-----...„......____- ‘ ll f 11°4 )3rwEEN LONDON AND t* °ttaal to tl Lond °PNh I'ARIS ii0,)1,1, wa s --0 14 ti d - b R of th . electric telegraph wires . 4atus e711441114' (44, foer thetransmission of mos tii,Nt,, tt,Ntils i,,„1.4-Y be tx . " t° tbke place at noon tu."(12,Y:',..0n -3, ,-'llertatloe A r‘i w„-;ed that an event of 11°.il'ittle tr,it:leatiojalal displ4y Thee attended by some _tn. tli''' I.) r,4 ( l 'tw eefi b . „ , first instantaneous co •'e‘ttt.d%i. i rl 'es dirt t - t - "vvo greatest cities in the world,t_,,,b l '% '4%4" by tiv, 4tl-1 and situated in countries.e7 tu be tt ,, c 't ti l „ to t) th l le of tehiltY tailes of sea, might w f i t h e 'lra'llikt.QitC,(' s tire r i: e marvels and wonders o e was , le 7llt w t it I ndic °f Meny, however ' t r t a h o e r r d i n a ry tf;itt'iZtilq,l44l3tiiit''t'o 4 bethtat- tried, an Neither l' the dirFc ,hilee'i,rB lit h'C'ttip°,,thc'ther func ti r o tc na . .ries of the Submarine 'like-1'014:e 1.-Y Were present, and the subordinate ,14 Itat I ,It PPe," 4 . 1 to i:grt'Ph atation of the South-Eastern is 'a Peat i he'l nothin about the matter beyond ,(4. tillthtN:lhfe PaPer3 ,7 '„Wit,t,”llt id,„;°t the twelvepiirptsteoftransmitting mea 4414a1,1estil': to 4,t'ertatiee t Paris, but those in charge o ~.Nt i, ,T N it hr ktlid the could only undertake . u t , 'isial;'ltti ,:i'oriiilittc4lee, the parties running the ri.licaci, „NL ii, h ~,t h e slot to Paris. They remonstrate( d . Itli,:lti„°.'„,''ver .`,,tlisenaent but without avail. In COOS!! I,r h l t: 4 4 :til e : lai represen'tations being made at the t t N i',` t0p,441111 011ie • Ai g t -street the sub l' D'iO "titirt t 0 bridge - el °°r f a ;the lapse of two tO l l 44 ti ' ll a - t c) ,, Bend meas-sre:es' a t h te e whole distanee; 1'41'4 ta : ti t her tt : t 9 ascertain at the time ,o_fcigeonitnlyg 4 , sble t,_"ttreomnaunication was sum 140 _,.„................................_____" er u te be transmitted. t ,1iti.4.11,1_ _ ---_-___________________-- It' AleNta4S UFOF HIS GRACE THE rtN ()(.:, ' CANTERBURY AND tai tq>k l e '.`ll-, 4'147'01? OF THE slily. 4, / tl tter 4 I t 4 k t ib , Oet PPeared in the Morning . ChTnicl - e 41e kh'''ine I leaded " Church Desecration, con tli Nt i l etl t iossl Ni Utik ..1_ . y exaggerated statements of t, 4 NI E.pte L i) aCe lh lirasted Church on Sundafaithful h, % Gf tiltier L 1 11 /I li tt , the Cc When three gentlemen, ~. ti t 'p ~ ger Itroh of England, attended to o°. 1 4' 1 )4 IN t he mo • • q t NI di,' k nitions of his Grace the Arch I:?Ai4 41111,1.,Wt!iclerY1, o . ; e p l ed• . On that occasion emyprdoatictyh tit:;l ' iCori tt ir feet of•-teb.Y; impelled me to t time °,l tl A t e he 1- 101; craoimismoufutiohne, altarto remarka th e the ttikkia ~talls 112u,ing that most sacred , l he l O 43 jr, 4_lQoard great of . all s t r a - t there ;i!tiliittaqt ~ 1 ) , 1 1 1 datiee With the rub Moses 6% revere.l most solemnly deel n are that not !ii ttte r i , hee in act or in demeanour was itltsi,l ii)iiiC ° 3' me or by anyone else. The 44,11,,14,,k,1144 ,:k c .tll l4 lta w . hich rho by statements are ex at the 7 1:11.;'` the letterl the o bservations made. ~_ ;1\`',76e41N7.,Ri0, ~ show as clearly their motive q dot ' lit k I . l °l ts eY are directed against me, ..a:Uti,, kiht.4thlt ert,g" dignitry, by certain .Parriawc: tlki'ltly dikever.ttlizance to be taken of their t ici the h. l li IQ! Po: 43 5' for them to talk o tyNt ' r ltu • ' er ." of the violence of sectarianism, Ill ia l4 l ' i tt i 8 41 1 11 stlits their Purpose, they can call me s he ti ()u gh 1 i' t ved' shoo adi • attend regularly at church ii,t411;111 ltevteililelllg pariah ; but I have too deep - '1:11Olt . 1 th ". h o e that ought to be felt and ob . 1 h h ,' - ' 5 ()I' God to b guilty of the pro ,1 1 ,rt . e, 111 , aPtt' tqa4.l!,elltirged the with. It has been the kit off s ' P til ta 'pl'ary"iPurlate a large part of t t he on off m er y - Oft hy b . Itivt g the choristers, .bu iil Nit, his g ' e t' to the ordinary, it has Ni 1 `,tiq'tY ql ra't that all the moneys collected at afteh„ . ,1-4. all b, i been atlee'rehit by the R.V!rl for pious and charitab . l y e tiiei,.toe,rtt,tiens. ,pl.l)lster and the other halfongreatb . 44414141 Partiestli:ngehtieTi c i theads strong giv marks etit,,f4_, C. Sir, yours, sze., i i, 1 1. 1 , , ‘). QUIN-, Churchwarden. t'ili"l't°ol:',l:l°4,,,-,----- -I,,Ltclas-irle,-)- Ctrzt. The importation of Nit it'o,l26Zha ending lie 10th of October, 1850, Itt has 01)46t1ii2oltbie corresponding pqriod of " Praise enough To fill the breast of any private man, That Chatham's language was his mother tongue, And Wolfe's great name compatriot with his own." But there was no excess in their recognition of Hun garian independence, for when Kossuth sent forth his invocation to European nations to assist the cause of Hungarian, which had become the cause of European freedom, he (General Walbridge) told the citizens of New York that much more ought that invocation to be listened to in America. But before the Ameri can Government had time to act, the Hungarian banner was trailing in the dust.—(Hear, hear.) He eulogised the conduct of the British people since the landing of Kossuth on their shores, and said their con duct was a demonstration that when the final struggle between despotism and liberty came, the men of Eng land would stand arm in arm and shoulder to shoulder with the men of America, not in defence of unconsti tutional, hut of constitutional and well-regulated liberty.—(Loud cheers, and waving of handkerchiefs.) Such he understood to be the feeling and the wish of their illustrious guest. But they bad a maxim in his country that when a Government failed to secure the liberty and the happiness of its subjects, it was the duty of the people to abolish it.—(Cheers.) He con cluded by presenting to Kossuth, amid the cheers of the comp an y, a c opy of the American Constitution. The CHAIRMAN then proposed the toast of the evening. They had witnessed forty-eight hours ago the most sublime spectacle of popular sympathy it had ever b een their lot to bestow. For whom ? Not the friend of monarchs, or one of high blood and birth. If so, the aristocracy would not have withheld that support which they, be re gretted to say, had, pp with one exception.—(" Name, name !")---Lord Dudley Stuart—(Loud cheers) — withheld from this exiled patriot. No matter. They had a noble and patriotic people with hearts to feel for the exile. lie venerated their monarchy, but there was no higher power, save that of the people; and it was that which must determine the form of govern ment. There vs as yet a future for Hungary, in which England must take part for good or evil. He hated and detested war, but he would not be a party to a policy which arrested war to-day only for the p ur p Hes o o s u e g o h f i t a insurin gt a i g t e m a o n r d e n certainly r for for t a o l m n o a rt nations. They would not interfere themsel ves but they should u n o p t t allow l t o h w i s the pohc interventi on o would f haveothers. e :n K Ha n they acted Hun gary now ?—(Cheers) Where would have been the Pope of Rome ?—(Cheers.) Had they arrested war by their timor o u s po li cy ? He believed there never 'A v ' Na a r s athti:nne now.wh when it would the absolute uldbe more so difficul tmonarchs of more swing , e shores a ( r c c h h y e , e r t s h . result of tyran n y, mus t b urst 10 si h a e am pro t p h o e s y ed o , o w ul i d th malulste r, who could say it wo u ld not reac h our own n n n g se ; u all ) I the conclusion , entlw the honours and "Our illus trious guest, Louis Kossuth." KOSSUTH then rose to address the meeting. The moment ho was upon his legs every person in the room stood up and hailed w ith a s h out w hi ch must have been THE KOSSUTH AT BIRMINGHAM, Kossuth left 141inchester at 11 35 A.M. on Wed- nesday. About 200 of the principal merchants of the town and neighbourhood were invited by Mr. Henry to meet him at a dejefiner, and to hear him in a short address explain some of his views. Kossuth it stated, in the course of his spec; on that occasion, to have in the most energetic manner denied all or any participation in the opinions of Socialists or Cemmunists. He did not understand Socialism, for every one di ff,red in his definition. lie ridiculed the peculiar dogmata of the then social and political quacks, and in a much applauded speech reiterated sentiments which have been rendered familiar to the public in the reports of his previous orations. His course to Birmingham was marked by the same tokens of popular favour that have attended him in his visit to the manufacturing districts. At all the stations crowds of people, varrying in size with the populations of the adjoining towns, were assembled for the arrival of the train. The railway officials, police men, signal-men, drivers, guards, stokers, and porters, were all animated by the same spirit, and cheered, shouted, and waved their hats as the carriage passed. The moment the train stopped a number of men ran up and flattened themselves against the panels, struggling who should first shake his hand, 'and wringing it one after the other till the repetition of the process almost deprived his fingers of sense or feel ing ; indeed, Kossuth has suffered very considerably in this way, and it is a wonder how he undergoes such personal suffering so readily. At Stafford he was obliged by the clamours of his admirers to get out of the carriage, and draw himself up in review for the people. Flags floated from several of the stations —cannon or muskets were fired at some. The ser vants of the company, however, only partook of the feeling of their superiors, who had offered to Kossuth the use of one of the royal carriages to and from Manchester free of expense. He, however, refused the offer, and preferred travelling by the ordinary train. He was accompanied by Lord Dudley Stuart, Mr. Massingberd, M. Pulsky, M. Hajnik, &c. Mr. Henry, M.P., and Mr. Bright, M.P., saw him off and bade him farewell at the station, where several hun dreds of people were collected, who gave him a few parting cheers with great enthusiasm. Delayed by shaking of hands, by compliments, and public gratu lation—even the women who were not able to get through the crowd begging most persuasively that some one would lift them up to the carriage to touch his fingers, and in some cases succeeding so far as to touch some big policeman's or able-bodied porter's breast to take them in his arms and carry them bodily up to the carriage window—the train did not arrive at Birmingham till 3 35 o'clock. A number of persons were waiting on the platform at the station at Birmingham when Kossuth arrived, and by them he was loudly cheered. After a short interval for rest he proceeded, amidst the cheers of the people in the streets, to the Town-hall, where a number of gentlemen bad assembled to present him with the addresses which had been voted to him from various towns. As the dinner hour had almost ar rived, it was arranged that the addresses should not be read. Mr. Scholefield, M.P., presented the address agreed to by the inhabitants of Birmingham ; it was followed by one from French residents in Birming ham. The Rev. Mr. Lillie presented one from inha bitants of Coventry; Mr. Alderman Moss one from inhabitants of Derby ; the Mayor of Northampton presented an address from inhabitants of that town, the Mayor of Worcester and a deputation an address from the Town Council of Worcester, the Mayor of Wakefield an address from inhabitants of that place, and the Rev. Mr. Gibson, and a deputation, an ad dress from inhabitants of Kidderminster. Kossuth said a few words in acknowledgment, promising a written answer to the addresses, and referring the parties also to the observations which he hoped to make in the course of the evening in the hall. • The great hall in which the banquet was spread—a noble apartment—was quite full, with the exception, perhaps, of the side galleries, in which there appeared to be some spare room. The entertainment was given, not by the corporation, but by inhabitants of the town associated for the occasion. The hall was ap propriately decorated. On the panels of the galleries were emblazoned the names of Count Batthyany, Count Louis Batthyany, Bern, Dembinski, and various eminent Hungarians. Along the front of the principal gallery was inscribed, in large letters, " Welcome Kossuth !" At half-past five o'clock Kossuth entered the hall, and was received with enthusiastic cheering. He was conducted to the principal table by Mr. Geach, M.P. There were also at this table Lord D. Stuart, M.P., Mr. Muntz, M.P., Mr. G. Dawson, M. Pulzky, General Vitter, M. Hajnik, Mr. Massingberd, and some few other gentlemen. The chair was occu pied by Mr. Scholefield, M.P. The Rev. Mr. VAUGHAN said grace at unusual length. As well as we could hear, he offered thanksgiving for the possession of freedom, and a prayer on behalf of the guest of the evening. It was understood that the proceeds of the dinner would be appropriated to the Hungarian refugees. The tickets were 11. each, and about 850 sat down to dinner; and if the surplus over the actual cost of the entertainment is to swell the funds of the refugees there can be no doubt but they will make a very handsome sum out of it. The CHAIRMAN rose, and said that letters had been received from the following gentlemen, apologizing for their absence :—The Mayor of Birmingham, Mr. W. S. Landor, the Recorder of Birmingham, Lord Hatherton, Lord Leigh, Mr. Newdegate, M.P., Mr. Sidney, M.P., Mr. Collins, M.P., Mr. Benbow, M.P., and Mr. Foley, M.P. The CHAIRMAN then proposed "The Queen," on whose high office, personal character, and career he pronounced a high eulogium. The organ played " God save the Queen," and the company sang it with great devotion and fervour, and at the close ho noured the toast with " three times three" cheers. After " The Health of Prince Albert"—(Loud ap plause)—Mr. Geach, M.P., who was obliged by popular excitement to get on the table, to gratify those at the end of the room, gave, in a few words, " the Sultan of Turkey and the President of the United States," in connexion with the part they had taken in the resto ration of Kossuth to liberty. General 'WALBRIDGE returned thanks for the United States, and stated that in the darkest hour of Hungarian independence, when their illustrious guest was struggling against hope, he had the honour to propose in a large assembly at New York, that the American Government should recognise the inde pendence of Hungary.—(Cheers.) The Americans had sometimes been charged with excesses, because youth was the period for excess ; but when they wanted wisdom they came back to their fatherland, for they were of the number of those who believed that it was 4 t,4' SUN LONDON. heard far beyond the walls of the building. Again and again the cheering was repeated, the ladies being quite as enthusisatie in their demonstration of sympathy as the gentlemen, but exhibiting it in the quieter way of waving their handkerchiefs. Silence at length then ob tained, the illustrious Magyar proceeded to speak as follows:—Mr. Chairman, ladies, and gentleman,—Three years ego yonder house of Austria, which had chiefly me to thank for not having been swept away by the re volution of Vienna in March, 1848, having in return answered by the most foul, most sacrilegious conspiracy against the chartered rights, freedom, and national existence of my native land—it became my share, being then member of the Ministry, with undisguised truth to lay before the Parliament of Hungary the immense danger of our bleeding fatherland.—(Hear, hear.) Having made the sketch, which, however dreadful, could be but a faint shadow cf the horrible reality, I proceeded to explain the alternations which our terrible destiny left to us, after the failure of all our attem?ts to avert the evil. Reluctant to present the neck of the realm to the deadly snake which aimed at its very life, and anxious to bear up against the horrors of fate, and manfully to fight the battle of legitimate defence, scarcely had I spoken the word— scarcely had I added the words that the defence would require 200,000 men, and eighty millions of florins, when the spirit of freedom moved through the hall, and nearly 400 representatives rose as one man, and lifting their right arms towards God, solemnly said, " We grant it—freedom or death." (The solemnity of gesture and voice with which Kossuth uttered these words produced a powerful effect on the assembly.) Thus they spoke, and there they swore, in tacalm and silent majesty, awaiting what further word might fall from my lips. And for myself : it was my duty to speak, but the grandeur of the moment and the rushing waves of senti ment benumbed my tongue. A burning tear fell from my eyes, a sigh of adoration to the Almighty Lord fluttered on my lips; and, bowing low before the majo rity of my people, as I bow now before you, gentlemen, I left the tribunal silently, speechless, mute. (Kossuth here paused for a few moments, overpowered by his emotion, with which the company deeply sympathised.) Pardon me my emotion—the shadows of our martyrs passed before my eyes; I heard the millions of my native land once more shouting liberty or death.—(Cheers.) As I was then, sirs, so am I now.—(Hear.) I would thank you, gentlemen, for the generous sympathy with which, in my undeserving person.—(No—you have honoured the bleeding, the oppressed, but not broken, Hungary.)— (Cheers.) I would thank you for the ray of hope, which the sympathy of the English people casts on the night of our tate. I would thank you, gentlemen, warmly as I feel, and as becomes the dignity of your glorious land. But the words fail me—they fail me not only from want of knowledge of your language, but chiefly because my sentiments are deep, and fervent, and true.—(Cheers.) The tongue of man is powerful enough to render the ideas which the human intellect conceives; but in the realm of true and deep sentiments it is but a weak interpreter. These are inexpressible, like the end less glory of the Omnipotent.—(Cheers.) But could I dare to say something about my humble self without be coming presumptuous, I would beg leave to state that it is not only from to-day, but even from my early youth, I have been spiritually connected with Britannia.— (Hear, hear.) I was yet young, Sir, under rigorous circumstances, almost anti-didactically, preparing my soul for the duty, which is a common one to us all —to be useful so far as possible to fatherland and to humanity.—(Cries of " Hear, hear.") The great things that have since occurred I could not then anticipate. I could not anticipate that it was I who would have by my sufferings to break way to the freedom of thought in my native land—that it was I who, by applying to several special objects of associa tion which has produced so many wonders in this glori ous country—should have unprecedented influence on my nation's life, capable of leading from the indifference of despondency to the cheerfulness of activity, and by activity to aelf•confidence—(Hear) — that the liberation of my people from those hereditary burthens that have weighed them down for 500 years ; that the political emancipation which transformed the close hall of pri vileges into an open temple of common liberty ; that the sanction of the great principle of equality in duties and rights, should ever be associated with the recollection of my humble name, or that it should be my lot to re concile the stubbornness of past ages with present ne cessities and the exigencies of modern times. I could not anticipate that it was I who should at one time of my lite be the shield of protection to the head of the proud house of Hapsburg in his own imperial residence, and that, seeing this service returned by a war of exter mination to my native land, it should be my destiny to lead on Hungary in such a gigantic struggle for indepen dence, that struggle which but for a moment, yes, with un shaken trust in the justice of God, I swear—for a mo ment only even the combined powers of the despots of two large empires were able to overcome, by getting for an ally a traitor in our own ranks—that it should be my destiny to lead on Hungary in such a contest, which, spite of its momentary mistortunes, will still prove the death-blow to the bondage of feudality, the turning point in the future of at least one-half the European continent, a cry of alarm to all nations to unite in the cause of freedom against the union of absolutism—(Hear, hear) —and to raise my nation out of the narrow proportion of a provincial vegetation to such a rank as would make her an element indispensable to the triumph of civiliza tion and liberty, and at last that I, the insignificant son of modest Hungary, should be honoured with so much notice from this glorious land, that such as, since Hun gary was a nation, no Hungarian, or perhaps nay other stranger, was ever honoured with.—(Cheers.) These and many similar things could never have entered into my early dreams.—(Loud cheers.) The sphere of activity which was then open to me was narrow as my faculties, and modest as my condition. Ambition never troubled the peace of my mind.—(Cheers.) I know that it is not given to man to choose his position in the world, but I know it is given to him honestly to fill the place which Providence has assigned to him.—(Hear, hear.) So I rested con tented with the idea that the great Architect above knows best what use to make of the meanest nail, and endea voured to prepare myself to become a feeble instrument in the hands of Providence to do some little good work. —(Hear, hear.) In this endeavour I had for my teacher that book of life history.—(Hear, hear.) It was the great examples of the classical past that warmed the susceptible young heart to noble aims and instincts; but the thirst of scrutiny pushed on the mind to look around for some other master than the ruius of vanished great ness, or those mournful monuments of the fragility of human things.—(Hear, hear.) I looked round not for ruins but for life, and to be able to teach my nation how to live.—(Cheers.) It was then that my regards turned with admiration upon the Anglo-Saxon race, this living wonder of both hemispheres, the glorious Albion.—(Loud cheers.) Hither my attention was drawn by the striking resemblance and coinci dence of institutions which the observe r cannot fail to mark in the histories of our past; hither my at tention was di awn by the fact that the fatal sickness of European statesmanship, inherited from ambitious con querors—the propensity to centralise every power, and m t o e g s t o i v e e e r h n h t e he lt e r s p , e i o s p h l e e r l e i . k e ja b e a c s i l h e a seven in t , yet e xti r p t h a t ei e d r do the - t g h e e r m w o o r f d m , w u n h i i c e i h p , a na l y p u h b a l d i c p life, u w h i e t i h a o t i u e t n w m h i a c d I notrepeat well understood on another occasion—l mean that with out a municipal public life, I believe no practical free dom can exist; and for the loss of it all Ministerial re t a s p p o i n t s i f i a b e i e a s i v , a a l l e l nt. But Parliamentary above all o n h i p i g o h t e e n r c i w e s a , s are bu at tention forcibly drawn by the wonderful greatness of your country. And I was searching the source of it, and I ,found it, not alone in your institutions, because these, as every human thing, can nowhere be entirely perfect, but I found them, together with your institu tions, in that public spirit which pervades every fibre of your nation. Sir, like the spirit of God, which, on creation's day spread over the waves, I found it in the freedom you enjoy. Yes, Sir, I found England not free because mighty, glorious, and great; but I found her mighty, great, and glorious, because free.—(Loud cheering.) So was England to me the book of life which led me out of the fluctuation of wavering thoughts to unshakeable principles.—(Hear, hear.) It was to me the fire which steeled my feeble strength with that iron perseverance which the adversities of fate can break, but never bead.—(Cheers.) My heart and my soul will as long as I live bear on itself the seal of this book of life.—(Bear, hear.) And so has England long ago become the honoured object of my admiration and re spect; and so great was the image of Britannia which I cherished in my bosom that, lately, when the strange play of fate led me to your shores, I could scarcely overcome some awe in approaching them, because I re membered that the harmony of great objects wants the perspective of distance, and my breast panted at the idea that the halo of glory with which England was sur rounded in my thoughts would perhaps not stand to the touch of reality, the more because I am well aware all what is human, and every age, has its own tragilities. I know that every society which is not a fervent elaeromsrutoenntsothttenrdajeoo,Twyfe,ahlrtayastol, besides its own fragilities, to bear also the burdens of the sins of the past, and I know it to be joy —that aietgtirchoa.snl law o large r in mankind m a ashnakdinhdw'sih the e s t e h n a tt and in the future, that to dispel it entirely the sun must be But the wsoholmeu t c h h e i l ma m ge us w t hi s e t h at r e ea w li i t t y h in England fi p ,tam r hr e ein s s e utg n hr t piw s naigst b hs e e a rs rs at every step such a seal of m g r i e n a e t. that nes A s ni t td e whichi e c v h en l life, and teahhne expectations soid midst t o loi of your y in o founda tion,uars gwree were nation of a t ‘ rik c e o s n m tin o u s a t t l he mind ofthe towards observerperfe perfection; and athe meets in moral, material, and social respects, such ele ments these elments display suc h a mighty, free, and cheerful activity, and this activity is so lively pervaded by the public spirit of the people, that however gigantic those triumphs of civilization may be which England has al ready proudly to show to the astonished world, and great they are—they are things called wonders by his tory which shrink to pigmies before them. Neverthe less, one feels by instinct all this to be but a degree gigantic one to be sure, but still only a degree to what posterity will have the lot to admire here. But, having the honour to dine in Birmingham, sur rounded by you here in the Town-hall, which, like your free schools, your Market-hall, and several of your hos pitals, all raised without any external assistance, are so many proofs of the lofty public spirit, self-confident force, and perseverance of Birmingham. You will allow me gentlemen, to state that in no place of England have I met the elements of your country's greatness on more solid basis displaying their activity; in no place I more confidently hoped to see that sympathy which I meet, to have a practical result, than hero in Birmingham.— (Loud cries of " Hear, hear.") I have not the preten sion to tell your own history to you. It is one of your particular glories to call men like William Hutton your owu, and kiii9 $9 NM w h at 4 ou, IV you will allow me briefly to state the motives which make mo look to your city with that trust and that hope.—(Hear, hear.) Industry is a chief element of greatness, welfare, power, and might. It is industry which gives practical value to science. In other branches of employment, human faculty appears to be a developing power, but industry is a creating power; and being so, it is the most efficient lccomotiee of pro gress.—( Hear.) But industry, highly beneficial in it self, becomes a pedestal to the public order of a country, and a lasting source of public and private welfare, when it is not only largely diffused, but also connected with an independent condition of the manufacturers, which independence, securing a substantial position to entire classes, cannot fail to impart to the manufacturing man that self-esteem, that noble pride, and that sentiment of proved dignity which is the mark of a free man, and the richest source of private and public virtues. It is so that we see in the historical period of the middle ages the cities to be the last stronghold of liberty, when all around them was feudal bondage. And what were the cities of old? Almost nothing else but corpo rations of manufacturers, independent in their situa tion, working at the fire of their own domestic hearth, working for themselves —men whom we might charac terize as small masters, not overwhelming in wealth, but independent in their position.—(Cheers.) So became industry the last stronghold of political freedom, as it was precisely the means of personal independence. The development of science and wealth must have led, of course, to large, mighty industrious establishments, where the secret powers of nature are made subservient to the creating power of industry; and these mighty establishments are even as beneficial to every country, where a large population works for employment, as they are glorious in the history of the development of man's faculties, but requiring large capital, and therefore more subjected to the fluctuations of commerce. Being ex posed to great losses, as well as to great gains, they have more of a personal character, whereas industry , largely diffused, and founded on a substantial indepen dent situation of those who work, has more a public and political character, and constitutes a lasting public ele ment of the condition of the country. Now, this is pre cisely the happy condition and the glory of Birmingham. It is this basis upon which Birmingham rose from the time of Julius Csesar; always a seat of industry, it be came the centre and the heart of a large manufacturing district, bringing the combination of the lime, iron, and coal of that district in suitable forms to become the com mon benefit of the world; giving arms to those who had the lot to fight for their liberation, the pen to fix the idea of thinking men, the cable to the wander ing sailor, as also the fine neck chain to the fair beauties of the world. I saw with admiration the Crystal Palace, that magnificent meeting hall to humanity. The meet ing was in London, but I was lost in a wonderment at Birmingham's astonishing industrious energy. I saw and admired the crystal fountain, the most magnificent work in glass industry. I know Birmingham to be the metropolis of the great railway system. I know that it was Birmingham which preceded by its local exhibition the idea of the world's Exhibition.—(Cheers.) I know that it is Birmingham which gave, by the genius of its Elkingtoa, the electrotype to us.—(Hear.) I know that machine weaving was here used before the power-loom was introduced elsewhere. 1 know that here was the workshop of Watt, whose steam-engines blotted the word " distance" cut of the dictionary.—(Cheers.) But what I the most admire is that you have even made the steam—this omniferous power of our times—subservient to the peculiar domestic and independent character of your largely-diffused industry, so as to be almost an article of domestic use.—(Cheers.) The character of your industry makes me consider Birmingham as a real seat of that strongly-felt spirit of independence and freedom which makes your glory and my hope.— (Hear, hear.) Myself, the wandering son of a bleeding nation, feels, after two hard years, for the first time, my heart flushed with joy, because on seeing the English people, and on inhaling their public spirit to my vexed soul, I can't forbear to believe that the freedom of such a nation must be the pulsation of mankind's approaching liberty, and that the part of the world where such a pyramid of civilization stands cannot be doomed to be the prey of Russian or Austrian despots.—(Cheers.) You remember Paulus Amitius, whose triumph by a whim of fate was placed between the tombs of his two sons. You remember his quite Roman words—" Cladum domus med vestra jelicitas consolatur." Were there anything in the world able to console a Magyar for the misfortunes of his fatherland, here is the place where I would repeat the words of yonder Roman son!—(Hear, hear.) But alas! (and who would blame me for it?) even here where I am, and so surrounded as I urn, still I feel myself a homeless exile—(Hear, hear)—and all that I see carries back my memory to my down-trodden land.—(Hear, hear.) Sorrow takes deeper root in human breasts than joys; one must be an exile, and the home of the poor exile must be suffering as mine is that the heart of man can feel the boundless intensity of the love of home.— (Hear, hear.) And, however strange it may appear to you, the roots of my life are not within myself, my individuality is absorbed in this thought, "Freedom and Fatherlaud."—(Cheers.) What is the key of that boundless faith and trust my people bear to me, their plain, unpretending brother a faith and confidence seldom to be met in like manner in his way. What is the key of it—that this faith, this confi dence, stands still fast, neither troubled by the deluge of calumnies, nor broken by adversities? It i s th a t m y people took, and take me still, for the incarnated perso nification of their wishes, their sentiments, their affec tions, and their hopes.—(Cheers.) Is it not then quite natural that the woes of my people also shoeld be em bodied in myself? I have the consentrated woes of millions of Magyars in my breast.—(Hear, hear.) And allow me, gentlemen, a sort of national self esteem in that respect. The people—that mighty basis of the pyramid of mankind—the people is everywhere highly honourable, noble, and good. Some few may ho selected to be the honoured of humanity; they may, by the pow erful soar of their genius, rise to the very height whence, as Halley or your Newton, said, " Man is forbidden nearer to approach God." But they are exceptions, and because so, they are not the manifestations of the eternal law. And you know the development to which mankind is called in going on according to steady eternal laws.— (Hear, hear.) Those selected few stand on the top of humanity, so they are not the basis of it. The basis is the people; they aro steady and lastiug.—(Hear.) My belief, therefore, is that it is the instict of the people which is the true revelation of mankind's divine origin. It is therefore, I was sits ing, that the people is everywhere highly honourable, noble, and good. But though to me, as to a Hungarian, that sort of sentiment may not be becoming which befits a British man, who, whatever be his personal merits, puts—and with right— bis greatest pride in the idea to be a citizen of Great Britain; still allow me to prostrate myself in spirit, be fore the memory of my suffering people ' • allow me to bear witness before you th a t t h e people of Magyars can take with noble self-esteem a place in the great family of nations ; allow me, even in view of your greatness, to proclaim that I feel proud to be a Magyar.—(Great cheering.) While, during our holy struggle, we were secluded from the world, our enemies, wanting to cover saenllfi.es, insignificanttol Well,d ylofueeti party,he talean proudd a this t t h h im a s t yp w acr e ot ay a n r ita e rny,a i , n s. t H t i h e u e i s n i r e g d c a r r n i y y m [ b ei ' su myself. , strength.—(Hear, hear.)eivii w T ar h e ey ur st c ir r r n e a d r, u i p v b a y na f e o l n i, l delu sionsand Slovack brethren aga i ns t us. It did not sulliScee.r± (Hear, hear.) The house of Austria poured all his forces uposs us ; still it would not do.—(Cheers.) We best them down.—(Cheers.) The proud dynasty was to stop at the foot of the Cain Ile thrust his legions upon us, and still we could have been a match for them. One thing there was which we, the plain children of straight uprightedness, could not match—that is the intrigues of Russian diplomacy, IN hich knew how to introduce treason into our ranks.—(Cries of "Shame.") This caused us to fall, combined with Russian arms. But still we were styled to be only a party fanaticised by me. Well, "I thank them for the word." You may judge by this what will then be, when not a mere party but together all the Magyars, also all the Croats, Wallachs, l ec Serbs, and Slovacks melted in one body, w ill range un d e r the standard of freedom and right.—(H ear , h ear .) And be sure they will.—(Cheers.) Humanity, with its child ish faith can be deluded for a moment, but the bandage soous falls from its eyes, and it will be cheated no more. And yet, though we are oppressed, they are oppressed and deceived.—(Hear, hear.) Afterwards the s corn e d party turned out to be a nation, and a valiant one. But still they said, it is I who inspired it. Perhaps there might be some glory in inspiring such a nation, and to such a degree.—(Cheers.) But I cannot accept the praise. No; it is not I who inspired the Hungarian people—it was the Hungarian ;people who inspired me. g ar r e he th d e an l g au e r r el t s hey of —(Loud cheers.) Whatever I thought , and still think —whatever I felt, and still feel — is but a feeble pulsa tion of that heart which in the bre a st of my people beats.—(llear, hear.) The glory o f b attles is ascribed knewt immortality. the e ea a t d peoplee rs n for history—theirseon meeting eve r iy e. How different, h ow tin ale And iv y or dead, their name will upon th e lips of t t h hl purer, is the light spread on the ima g e of thousands of freedom and fatherland, went on calml y , singing na tional t t h h e e y will lay ow peoples' sons, who, knowing that where th e y f a ll their names .unhonour e d an d unsung, but who, nevertheless , a nimated by the love of anthems, against the batteries whose cross-fire vomited death and destruction on them, and took them without firing a shot—(Hear, hear)—they who fell, fall ing with the shout, "Hurrah fo r Hun g a ry 1 " (Great cheering.) And so they died by thousands, the un named demi-gods.—(More cheering.) Such i s t h e people of Hungary.—(Hear.) Still, they say it is I w h o have inspired them. No; a thousandthastute cheering.) times, no ; It is they who have inspired me. — ( Even the features of Cato partoo k of the im pression of this dreariness. A shadow pas sed over the brow of Socrates on drinking the hemlock cu p . With us, those who beheld the nameless victims of the love of coun try,smile on the froz en li ps of the dead, and the dying answered those wh o lying on the death - field beneath Buds 's met but the impression of a would console but by the words, Never mind; Buda is ours. Hurrah for the fatherland I" So they spoke and n spontaneity; died. He who witnessed each scen es, not as an excep tion, but as a constant rule, he who saw the adolescent young oto die for hi s land; weep when h e told who he a a w w a s he who b e ard w h a t a fury spread over hearing of the catastrophe; he who marked his behaviour towards the victors, after all was lost; he who knows what sort of curse is mixed in the prayers of the Magyar, and k nows w h a t sort of sentiment is burning the y e t sacrifices te o alike in the breast of the old and of the young, of the strong man and of the tender wife—and ever will be burning on, till t h e h our o f na tional resurrection strikes —he who i s aware o f a ll t hi s , will surely bow before this people with respect, and will acknowledge with me, that such a peopl e wants not to b e i n spired, but that it is an everlasting This is the p eop l e o f H ungary .—(Cheers,) And f or me, source of inspiration itself. — (Great cheers.) my only glory is, that this people found in myself the PMonificutivn of their (Ma swAiments.—(Hear.) Thi s , EVENING, NOVEMB is ell ho can tell of himself, whom you are honouring with so many tokens of your sympathy. Let me, therefore, hold the consoling faith that, in honour ing me by your sympathy, you were willing to give your sympathy to the people of the Magyars. But let me ask what can be the meaning of this sympathy of the English people ? Is it but a funeral feast, offered to the memory of a noble dead ? God forbid ! The people of England are the people of life ; their sympathy belongs to the life. The hurrah which greeted me on your shores—the warm, sincere cheering of the hundred thousands in your streets, so generous and still so modest, so loud and so sincere, so free and still so orderly—l take for the trumpet-sound of the triumph of freedom, justice, and popular rights. To be sure, deep is the sorrow which weighes on me—it is, as I have said, the concentrated woe of millions ; but do not think, I pray, this sorrow to be that of despondency, which knows nothing better than hopeless complaint. No, this sorrow is such a one as enlarges the horizon of hope and of perseverance, getting. like the Anteus of the fable, new strength from every fall. Let me , therefore, assure you, gentl emen , that the people of Hungary has a future yet ; let me confidently state that the people of England have not spent their sympathy to a corpse.—(Hear.) But, well may you ask, " What are the motive s of this hope ?" The first basis of my hope is the Almighty himself— the God of Justice who cannot grant a lasting victory to wickedness. History has to be sure recorded the down fall of mighty empires, of nations, to whom compared, we Magyars can scarcely claim a name. But the fall of those nations was precisely the revelation of the eternal justice of God. They fell by their own crimes. Nations die, but by suicide.—(Hear.) That is not our case. Hungary is not the sacrifice of its own crimes. In Austria, a woman vainly dreams that she can raise her blood-stained child upon the ruins of liberty. Well, she knew that God is not with her, but she knew that the Czar was with her; and what cares she for God if only the Czar be with her ?—(Hear, hear.) But God is just, and will not permit this atrocity. And look, do you not already see his justice mark? She said that in the dominions of Hungary the house of Hapsburg should rule as he pleased; and, to accomplish this sacri legious plot, she called on the Czar to help her; and look, she is already in bondage to the Czar. Austria longed to be the sun, that different nations, like moons, should move around her, and now she has herself be come an obedient moon to a frail mortal,—(Cheers.) Let them rely upon the Czar—his hour will also come.— (Cheers.) The millions of Russians are not doomed to be nothing more than the blind victims of a single de spot. The destiny of man is nobler—freedom's sun will also rise upon Russia, and in the choir of liberated humanity in praise to Almighty God, the name even of Russia will not be wanting.—(Loud cheers.) So let the house of Hapsburg trust in the Czar. My people and myself, we trust in God—(Load cheers)—and the anchor of that faith is an unfaltering faith in the destinies of humanity. The realisation of these destinies can have no bases but in the people. However arrogant may be the policy of despots on the Continent, the gracious Queen of these isles takes the destinies of the people for the end of go vernment, the people also as the instrument. I am firmly convinced that every state is organised on a per verse system, and is doomed to be turned up where a single individual or a single class pretends to be the broad basis of society. That man rebels against God who believes that the glorious pyramid of humanity exists only that they should stand at the top—a single shower, and they will shake him off, and hurl him to the dust. There let him lay.—(Loud cheers.) Regard the greatest part of the European Continent —Germany, Austria, and Hungary; look at the indignities offered to Rome and to Naples, which Mr. Gladstone has lately, with such generous indignation, exposed—(Loud cheers); — look at the great French nation, where the fairest fruits of three Revolutions—glory outside and freedom within —have all been absorbed in the mire of centralisation; and it must be manifest to every unprejudiced observer that such a situation is unnatural, and contrary to the laws of nature, and that it is utterly impossible for it to endure. Besides, see these tyrants, how they have paid the people for being merciful to them, when they might have been but just; see how they have nothing forgot and nothing learned—(Cheers)—and see, on the other hand, how nations have learned by their common suffer ings that their fate is bound together by a perfect soli dity; and it is impossible not to feel that we are on the eve of days when the oppressed nations on the continent are about to hold the greatest court that was ever seen, and that before their bar every artificial and every un natural system will be brought, and will be condemned. My third anchor of hope is the past history of my nation; our country has seen many a storm, but still the Maygar is alive.—(Cheers.) There was a time when one-half of Hungary was under Turkish domi nion, and when the other half was ruled by the Bastos and the Coraffos of old—the models, or rather I should say, the masters from which such men has Haynau are formed. There has been more than one bloody league formed against Hungary in the history of the house of Hapsburg, :and still the Maygar is alive. The house of Hapsburg has for three centuries excited against us open force, as well as all sorts of craft. It has fomented our discords, it has opened our wounds, it has undermined our national character, and still my nation has not perished. The single genius which the house of Hapsburg has produced—the Em peror Joseph IL—not the present blood-stained child Francis Joseph—(Cheers)—he bent all the powers of hie mind to Germanize Hungary, and melt the empire into one form; but my countrymen, though already weak ened by the preparatory measures that were adopted, did but renew its strength as it rose out of the ordeal. So it was two years ago, when we were desiring nothing but peace —peace that the ant-like industry of the people might change the face of the country into a paradise— then when we not only did not suspect treachery, but we did not believe it when we should have believed it, and were unprepared to meet the danger when it gathered in a frightful manner over our heads—we were attacked, you know how. We were secludtd from the whole world. Alas! we were abandoned of the whole world— without friends, without ammunition, without money— still we beat our unjust assailants—nay we beat him so that he flew to meudicate to the Czar for his existence, which he gave, but for which Austria had to pay all her future. But who could think that the Hungarian nation has no future. Even the wrongs by which it was oppressed did its future but insure. The house of Hapsburg by its victory, and still more by the use which it had made of its victory, had drowned centu ries of disturbance in Hungary, and by its very fall my nation has revealed to Europe that she is necessary to Europe's safety, as her glorious defence revealed that she is full of vitality. While the house of Hapsburg has caused dissatisfaction in every country in Europe, from Schleswig-Holstein to Rome, and from Hesse to Con stantinople, my nation has earned the respect and esteem of them all, and to hope for the dawn of their deliver ance from our struggles. Could anybody think that the Magyar, the German, the Bohemian, the Pole, the Slo vach, the Dalmatian, the Serb, and even the Lombard and the Venetian —that Lombardy which Austria beat with iron glove dares not touch—(Cheers)—that Venice which sheds tears of blood as she looks on her deserted Rialto—could anybody think that all these nations are to be melted by any alchemist in Vienna into one com mon slavery?—(Cheers.) Other and abler alchemists have tried it before. Joseph 11. tried it, but all in vain; though ho offered us the rights of conscience, and the liberty of the serf; but Francis Joseph, that blood -stained child, what has he to offer? He has offered to his nation shame abroad— oppression at home—heavy stamp duties—consumption taxes—and all those glorious inventions which drain the life -sweat of a people, these are the gifts that he offers; and when the people's murmers are heard at the Imperial Palace, do you know what the answer is? These are hie very words—We are told that the Magyars are discon tented. We know it well.—(Cheers.) But it is not our intention to see them contented; it is our intention to see them pay.—(hear, hear.) These words give a key to the future. The house of Hapsburg does not desire to be loved, but to be paid. Well, Hungary will pay all it owes.—(Great cheering.) The people are, indeed, Merciful and generous; they will forgive much to their governors so long as their sense of morality is nut wounded. But where faith has once been broken there is no power more to knit that broken tie. That is the case with Hungary, so that they believe the rule of com mon justice and common law is quite and entirely im possible. The house of Hapsburg has been brought back to Hungary as the Stuarts wore in former times brought back to your country; but all faith was lost in their mo rality, and where are they now?—(Cheers.) For restored dynasties there is no future in Hungary After the experience we have had even Monarchy has no future. But the house of Hapsburg has no future even beyond Hungary. It is worn out, and that is a bad reason to claim further life.—(Hear, hear.) Had the house of Hapsburg, in 1848, been just to nations it ruled, it might have had a future. But now the historical basis of tradition it has lost—the new era it has refused to accept. How then can it continue to live ? It had formerly one artificial prop to its existence. Its exist ence was believed to be necessary for Europe against Russian preponderance. But where is that feeling now? Austria has become the mere vanguard of Russian pre ponderance; its existence is therefore not only not ne cessary to Europe, but dangerous to Europe. The house of Hapsburg leans now for its existence on three things —on loans, on bayonets, and on the Czar. But those loans must lead to inevitable bankruptcy. Her armies are composed of men who hate her as men hate those who have spilt the blood of their mother. And as to the Czar—l hope that the Anglo-Saxon race will not allow the Czar to rule on the Upper Danube and on the Rhine. —( Loud cheers.) Let the house of Austria, proudly re lying on her bayonets and the Czar, trample upon op pressed nations. I know that armies of-day are not the condiottieri of old. I know that light has spread, and that even bayonets think.—(Hear, and loud cheers.) I know that all the Czars of the world are but mere dust in the hand of God, and so I am sanguine enough to hope I shall yet live to see Hungary independent and free.—(Cheers.) But there is still another ground of hope—the last, not the least, important of all. It i s your sympathy, gentlemen—the sympathy which the generous people of England take in the fate of my country.—(Cheers.) It would be an insult to the people of England if I were to consider that sympathy as no thing mare than the p ass i ng emotion of noble heart; Full well I know th a t t h e sympathy of the people of England is no idle thi ng. H as the public mind of Eng land ever taken any direction —has it ever bent its sym pathy to any gre a t o hj ect—it will carry it out of it some p rac ti cal result.—(L. ch —l eers w .) ll This firmness of character —this untiring perseverance in every great and noble mind—is the true key of your country's greatness ; so I rely u 0 rely upon us the practical re (Cheers.) What is it I ' P it confidently.— (Cheery.) of the generous sympathy f E land? Let me first of all see whether n the form Hungarian gnaart native or reproach. Jr js a matter of fact that we prais e madehavee no revolution. Take . a man who, confiding in the protection of the law, is resting;rilyiu his house, and the slight watch, in- E It 13, 1851 stead of taking care that his tranquillity shall not be disturbed, give tho torch to an incendiary, and induces him, by false promisee, to burn hie house and to murder him; and he, roused from his quiet rest, rushes out of his room to put out the fire, and preserve his life, end calls on the night watch to help him in his legitimate defence, and this very night watch brings an armed guard with him, and, instead of defending the injured man calls him a traitor and a conspirator, for daring to oppose tho ho nest i ncendiary and the faithful murderer. — (Laughter.) rushes on the injured Nay, more, h e j o i us t h e i ncen di ar y, an d guard. night s o sous, t clahe,a andts d hie the man with his armed guards, and pia poor i n j ure d man, calling together his brethren and incendiary,ls there the an m i u t t: p d r e e r, j e u r d , c t h e d e man in the world who would h c arge the injured man with hating committed au assault theon leg itim ate authority of the night watch ?__(Cheers.) the In thi s po pular sketch y ou h ave the historyof• Hungarian war. But I beg not to be misunderstood, It is not t heear of the revolutionary reproach w hi c h makes me say fI man of justice, ri g h t , and liberty; will continue so am a' • ic u t e and little do I c are w h at names the enemies of right, and lib ert y may call me. Your gampdens and your Sydneys wer e a l so called revolutionists in their day; and so may God bless nao as I never long for a brighter fame than th e i rs . — ( L oud and prolonged cheer ing.) So be sure I take a revolution for a very great misfortune; but highly I own t h at an oppressed people, seeing every other means of aggression fail, has a right to make a revolution.—(Loud cheers.) Highly I own that my oppressed people was in this very case—(Re newed cheers)—but, I state it as a matter of fact, that in Hungary we had no revolution. The people of Eng land may reduce the calumnies of tyrants and their satellites in this country to their true nature.—(Cheers.) All the other gossip about anarchy—about our being licentious demagogues, seeking to introduce con fusion into neighbouring states—about my keeping up my dictatorship in Hungary by a system of ter rorism—all have the same consideration.--(Cheers.) Though the reign of the house of Austria in Hungary was for three centuries a continued series of perjury, and though it encroached incessantly upon our rights, still we conserved, in our municipal institutions, some shadow of constitutional liberty. And so the Hunga rian soil was not the soil of conspiracy—my nation had, and has still, neither the will nor the occasion to share in the movement of those new doctrines which disturb the sleep of the mighty of the earth. We have struggled fairly and openly for our social rights, as you struggled for all those mighty reforms which have succeeded to preserve your country from all those dreadful concus sions which never fail to arrive where progressive re forms have no fair course—we carried our reforms peacefully, availing ourselves of the reforms which God has given, not we made. We knew how to be just to the people, without regarding what tongue he speaks or in what church he prays; but — the Hungarian people, be comiug master of his fate, was moderato enough to re serve his part to time.--(Cheers.) With us there was nothing done by violent commotion —no equitable in terest trodden down. We generously spared even those which, though unjust in their origin, were interlaced with the private fortunes of a whole class. There was with us no trace of anarchy, even in the midst of our war. In every part of Hungary which our victories brought back under our rule, order and security of person and property were far greater than that of which the order-making Austria can boast even now.—(Cheers.) And this was not my merit, Sir, but the people's. Struggling on different sides, often the storm of battle passed over one region, and sometimes it was not for weeks within the reach of my govern ment; but the moral sense of the people, and their noble instincts safeguarded order and security.—(Cheers.) Very seldom I was in the case to use command, and when so, it was not the people, but others who required it.—(Cheers.) The greatest part of our army was com posed of volunteers; the stock of my financial operation was made out of free offerings —our cannon were cast out of bells, which the people offered in embarrassing quantity.—(Cheers.) We defended ourselves, but at tacked nobody, and secret designs were far from the straight spirit of my land. Austria and Russia took the neighbouring Turkish province for a basis of operation against ns •' whole armies of the m h ave we t h rown b ac k over their frontiers. We had but to follow, as we had a right to do, and the theatre of war might have been brought home to Russia herself. But yet we stopped— we respected international rights, though towards our selves nobody respected them. Galicia was at one time entirely denuded of troops by Austria concentrating her forces against us. I had but to throw a feeble force into that district, and the flame of revolution would have been blown up among that heroic but unhappy people. But I took it for a crime to play with the blood of nations, and I scrupulously avoided to afford the slightest pretext to the ambitious views of the Autocrat of the North. Vain effort to count on morality in those quarters.—(Loud cheers.) They knew full well, that the heroic Poles desired to flock in thousands of thousands to join us; but I told them we had already a thousand times more hands than arms.— (Cheers.) The Czar knew full well that the heroes of Poland who fought so valiantly in our ranks scarcely amounted to 4,000 men. But still he styled the Hun garian struggle a Polish conspiracy, and charged us with plotting against the security of his empire. Well, he raged at the idea that it was a Polish hero, now lying in the cold grave of far Aleppo. who beat down his bands in Transylvania. He wanted a pretext to set his impious foot on Europe's neck, and not finding a pretext, he took it, Sir.—(Laughter and cheers.) So it was with Hungary, gentlemen, which the despots of Austria and Russia, and their numerous satellites, ca lumniated as the focus of di sor d er an d o f anarchy. But why was I dwelling upon these particulars? The reason is, that I have to attribute to these calumnies and misre presentations that, during our past struggles, we were not happy enough to meet that assistauce from England which .1 readily confess I hoped to meet; and, consider ing the interests as well as the position which this coun try so gloriously holds in the world, as also the known public spirit of the people, I dare to say I was entitled to hope for.—(Cheers.) Unhappily the people as well as the Government of England has not been well in formed about the true nature of the Hungarian war—its high importance to Europe and to that Orient, which in so many respects enters into the dearest interests of Britannia, so as to be nearly its Achilles' heel. We were hermetically secluded, and chiefly so at the very time when our struggles grew to European height; so either we were not in the case to afford the wonted expectations, or the effect of those we could give was paralysed by the adopted rules of diplomatic formality. The people of England and public opinion here were not wont to be much occupied with foreign affairs till now. There might have been sufficient reasons for that. The people of England has grown up from within, but it has fully grown up already. This great empire has no moro to fear danger from within. Your fate is not depending upon any mortal's whims. Hero you are the masters of your own fate. But in respect to foreign relations, things are somewhat different. Every question has its own con ditions—every time has its wants; and I confidently affirm that there is not a single question in your internal relations which outweighs in importance your external relations. Nay, more, I am persuaded that all your great internal questions aro dependent upon your Foreign office. Danger can gather over England only from abroad. Do not object, gentlemen, that Albion, in its insular position, and with the self-confident knowledge of its immense power, does but laugh at the ambition of all the emperors of the earth. I know that Britannia, with the mighty trident in her powerful hands, is en titled, even more than of yore, to proclaim with the greatest of your poets— " This England never did, nor ever shall Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror." —(Cheers.) I know all this very well. But give me leave to say that that glorious thing which we call the greatness of Britannia is not bounded within these ma terial shores. Freedom, civilization—your Parliament being the representative of whole nations—the principle of tree trade your due influence in Europe —are not all these as so many arteries on which its life depends? Let but ono of these arteries be cut and Britannia will not only not be more what she is, but it will powerfully react even upon your internal questions.---(Hear, hear.) The catastrophe of freedom abroad cannot fail to bring about concussions which may seriously endanger your own tranquillity, your own freedom, your own happi ness. To break Britannia it is not necessary to conquer these glorious walls. The very moment that Britannia should not weigh so much in the world as it now weighs, Britannia would be broken.—(Loud cheers.) ahe finger of God is over Europe now stretched out. One may dissemble to see it, but nobody can stop it. And there are but two cases possible. One is, that the mass of ap proaching events will force established governments in Europe one against another. In this case England cannot be indifferent. Should the fate of Eu rope be decided without England's vote England would be a European power no more. And should, in this case, reaction and despotism be the victors on the continent, it were not necessary to see the Cossacks watering their horses in the Thames in order that England should no more bo great, glorious, and free. Because the question will be not upon parti cular points—the question will be, what principle is over Europe to rule—liberty or despotism. I know the people of England in that case will not side with des potism, but that they will side with liberty; only I humbly wish that England should pronounce her will in time, that her silence may not be taken for irresolution or indifference.—(Chee rs .) T he second case is, that the struggle may be not of states against states, but that the people of Europe may make up accounts • with their o rulers, and Settl e t h e i r own domestic affairs. What wn is it humanity expects in that case from England? It i England shall not on l y respect--that out of d sbthat but shall m a k e respected the principle of non-interfer ence by foreign countries, and the independent right of every people to settle its own affairs, for that cannot alter the matter should the Czar once more be willing to violate the sovereign independence of nations. Hu manity expects from the people of England that it will shake th e m i g h ty trident, and shout out a powerful stop. — (Cheers.) Be sure, gentlemen, that word, followed up with the manly resolution to be as good as your wo r d, w ill suffice. It will cost you ;neither ied money nor blood ; b u t by it you will have saved the the lives of m y r i a d s , averted many L cheers.) a and given lib er ty to the world.—(Loud bloodshed, A glorious m i ss i on , a glorious calling — almost Divine. —(Continued cheering.) Tho short moral of my long speech, gentlemen, then . is—(Renewed cheers)—Ru ssi a, uu ss . ia, by her intervention in Hungary, has Hungary—as put her foot on th e Italy w neck of Europe. As long as. long as ill not become free , that foot will rest on Europ e ' s neck. Yet it will pass f r om the neck to the head , cn there will be in Europe neither peace nor tranquillity, but a continual boiling up volcano, end Europe a great larrsck and a great blood field.—(Cheers,) The cause of Hungary is the cause of civil and religious liberty. I am myself a Protestant—(Cheers)--not only by birth but by conviction. But I declare that I would struggle with equal enthusiasm for the rights of my Catholic countrymen as for the Protestants.' (Cheers.) my principle is that the chureli bhould not meddle with politics—(TremendousFlieering)—and that Governments should not meddle with religion.—(leanew e d cheers.) ( Even with regard to Church property 1 difier from the views of some reformers, for I hold ell property to be sacred, and I would not deprive the Catholic Church of the property which our former kings have given her, while I would leave the Church to distribute it =wag her clergy as she pleased. Now as to the moans of obtaining a practical result, I frankly confess that I look to publi c op i n i on as the means of benefiting my native land and every country in Europe. Ad here, perhaps, I may make a remark or two relative to the resources of Hungary as an indepen dent nation. Hungary has no debts at all, because it is in no way obliged to share in the debts of the house of Hapsburg. We carried on the war by means of paper money; but the house of Hapsburg burnt the greater part of it, and we are quit of that debt,—(Laughter and cheers.) Hungary, independent and free, will be rich in resources; because if the principles of social order be diffused throughout Europe, Hungary will not want to keep up:large armies, and will have no great national expenditure. Hungary, by means of municipal institu tions, is accustomed to cheap government. With a sur face of 4,000 geographical square miles, a population of 15,000,000, and a rich soil, she is naturally rich. Her revenue amounts to 1,000,0001. annually, and her salt mines are so productive that they cannot be consumed for 1,000 years, if we should have all the nations of the world to supply with salt. Besides, Hungary has large national estates. Whilst the house of Austria is very nearly bankrupt, Hungary has considerable resources. I trust you will pay greater attention to the foreign affairs of the country, by which means you will be able to regulate the direction of all your public concerns. lily humble request is, that you will be t pl u e r a o s p e e d, a i n n dthe every meeting, whenever the question may arise, t o remember that the question of Hungary is con nected with the v i ctory of the principle of freedom in e prin c i p l e of self-government, an d , there fore, whether on the question of free-trade or any other question, I b eg the people of England to declare that m e v e er t y i c nation r • shall have —that public e Op .— ini ( o C n b , whichers.) i This is my the regulation of her own do s now r ouse d, not b m y , but by the in c id ent of my being the opportunity for the manifestation of th at principle, will be expressed still humble praye e r more strongly. I ask the people of • Birmingham, who by their p u li t i ca l demonstration carried the Reform Bill — (Cheers)—and who have alwa •e s supported the princi ples of liberty, to give their (Cheers.) Members of that greatsufapmpoiri port t my people.— of mankind, the tie of brotherhood is strengthen e d b e t we y suffering. My sufferings and the num e b n e u rl s by common my unhappy land entitle me to intreat ess woes of tention to the feeble words which I addresysetu to pay at the bottom of my own desolation. Take the 10 ou from cry of oppressed humanity, crying out to you b as the stuttering tongue. People of England, do not forgYetmiy thy happiness our suffering —mind in thy freedom thee: who are oppressed—mind in thy proud security the dignity of other countries—remember the fickleness of human fate—remember that the wounds inflicted en the nations abroad are so many wounds inflicted on the principles of liberty, which are your boast, your glory, and your happiness—remember that with every down trodden nation a rampart of thy liberty falls—remember that there is a community in the destiny of humanity, b e thankful for the freedom you enjoy, and lend yo ur brethren a helping hand for the future. The Honourable Gentleman resumed his seat amidst the most enthusiastic cheering and waving of hats and handkerchiefs. At the termination of Kossuth's speech he was succeeded by one from Mr. Toulmin Smith upon Hun garian wrongs, who expressed a hope that all parents present that night would teach their children next mor ning that Kossuth was the Alfred of Hungary. He concluded by proposing " The Future of Hungary." The toast was drunk with Creat enthusiasm, and was acknowledged by M. Pulszky. Mr. SCHOLEFIELD, M.P., proposed " The Health of Mr. George Dawson." Mr. DAwsoN, in returning thanks, said that whatever any person might say to the contrary, Birmingham was the most dem ocra ti c town in England.—(Loud cheers.) That would ever be the case from the first to the last of the chapter.—(Cheers.) They might rely upon it that the proceedings of that day would teach them to look in the first place to themselves. A man's salvation was never worked out but by wormwood and gall—it was the cause of man against despotism, the cause of God against the devil. 'Mr. Dawson was succeeded by Mr. Douglas, Mr. Weston, and others. The meeting, however, became very impatient, and about eleven o'clock the ladies left the gallery. Mr. blunts, in the course of a long speech, abused the Times most heartily. The meeting broke up about twelve o'clock. FAREWELL TO KOSSUTH ON HIS DE PARTURE FOR. AMERICA. Farewell to thee, Kossuth! with fervent emotion Our English hearts bid thee God-speed on thy way. In Freedom's fair cause may thy weal and devotion Still shine as resplendent and clear as the day! And though for the present the tyrants prove stronger, Their glory shall soon in the dust be laid low. Have courage, despair not, a little while longer, And again thou shalt triumph o'er each haughty foe! Yes! Russia and Austria's hireling bands Will combine all their arms and their legions in vain ; The weapons of freedom shall gleam in the hands Of men who have sworn their best rights to maintain, And the good cease will ever ut last be victorious. Although fur a time the oppressor may boast, A day dawns for Hungary, speedy and glorious, When her sons may defy the imperial bost! And still may thy voice speak in Liberty's name, And still may thine arm strike her foes with suocesi, Till the despots are covered with terror and shame, And Victory's laurels thy brow wreathe and ►less! Farewell to thee, Kossuth! with fervent emotion Our English la, arts bid thee God-speed o❑ thy way, And when thou in safety hast crossed the wide ocean, Oh, think of the friends who now greet thee to-day! WILLIAM G WINER. DRURY-LANE THEATRE. JULLIEN'S CONCERTS. Signor Sivori made his first appearance at these concerts last evening, and performed a new fantasia of his own composition, entitled " The Carnaval de Cuba," in which he has adroitly contrived to concen trate all the difficulties of violin playing as though for the sole purpose of proving how easily he can over come them. Several of his tours d e f orce are per f ectly marvellous, and as pleasing as they are marvellous. His right hand has not forgotten its cunning since the recess, and he still, in spite of all rivals, main tains his position as the greatest violin ist who has appeared since Paganinni. He was applauded to the echo. Bottesini was the other solo player of the evening, and he created quite a; furore by his exquisite management of that un wieldy instrument, the contra basso, which under his inspiration "discourses most excellent music." It would he an act of injustice to close this notice with out giving the highest praise to the band for the ad mirable manner in which they performed the andante movement from Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony. We have never heard it more exquisitely rendered. The house was crowded to suffocation. MR. IVIUGHT AT SHEFFIELD. We are rejoiced to learn that Wright is himself ngain, and we hope soon to see him at the Adelphi. He has completely recovered his voice ; as he himself would phrase it, his voice " is as it used to was"—in short, Wright is " all right." He is now starring it at Sheffield, and has by his performance of Manna duke Magog, in The IVrech Ashore, and Mr. Bobtail, in illy Precious Betsey, drawn crowded houses every night. COURT CIRCULAR. WINDSOR, Nov. 12. The Quf en and Prince Albert walked in the Rome Park and Slopes, this morning. The Prince of Wale•, the Princess Royal, the Prince Alfred, and the Princess Alice, took walking and pony exercise. The Prince Arthur and the Prin cesses Helena and Louisa, were driven out in an open carriage. His Royal Highness Prince Albert went out on horseback this forenoon, attended by the Equerry in Waiting, Lieut.-Col. F. H. Seymour. The Duke and Duchess of Bedford, and the Lady Cowley, are expected at the Castle to-day, on visit to her Majesty. Her Majesty and his Royal Highness Prince Albert, with the Prince of \Vales and Prince Alfr e d, took a drive this afternoon in an open carriageo a nd pfo.urn. s L ey or rn d o C u h r a a r t l t e e s nd A ed . F on itz h r o o r y s , ebit an dc d kl L o ie rd ut.- E C ip l h o in ne . l The Earl of Listowel has relieve . B sto e n rk e e i l n ey h D is r d u u m ti m es on of d L has ord re in lie i v l e ' d aitl l 7f r. , Gore as Groom in Waiting. R. Orms b y Col on e 1 The nomination of Sheriffs for 1852 took place sof her Majesty's oat thrCouncil, ee gentlem en b e i ng Honourable Privy yesterday (the morrow L o o f rd St. Martin) inthe Court ju of Exchequer, before the Ch ance llor of the Exchequer (presiding in hi s G old named The Lfoorrdeascohfctohuenptyriivny England counci and Council present NleVa we s. re _the Robe of Office), the Lord Chancellor, the Secretary of State for tds he t ena h sd e , Ll C :hoo o err l de o sii n t i sco e , r s hd , te t hcf h eh e iLe C hrßdi Justice eafr CommissionerCoonhfi oe tf f h t e h eC JusticeEou x r , c t h e OOO - fff JGurdegvielslewwiagshttmheanCileErkrio: pthlaett,Cyouaungcihlainn, Mr. Baron Parke. wscE tt u i on i griit : agnoo nr. cd : Williams, and Talfonrd, assisted at the nomination. The Oxford University Commission had a meeting yesterday, at the official residence of the First Lord of the Treasury in Downing -street. Present—The Bishop of Norwich, the Dean of Carlisle, the Master of Pembroke, the Rev. IL G. Liddell, the Rev. G. H.. S. Johnson, and the Rev. A. P. Stanley (Se cretary.) Tue. l'russian Minister transacted business at the Office of the Board of Trade on Tuesday. Sir Thomas Freemantle, Chairman of the Customs, had an interview with the Chancellor of the Exche queryesterday, at his official residence in Downing. , street. The Liverpool Freehold Land Society has pur chased a valuable estate on the London-road, called the korai-lay WWI 0 1 461444 0911 t OTCIitY!ATO UP* THURS.. AY Fi J 0 0 0' )