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

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BOROUGHS MtTROPOLITAN I)4IONSTRATION.—(TIIIS DAY.) 0 iliac trial raj idle -class d emonstration in favour of the ,i.llB Xuth took place this afternoon in the 1 , 1 V 1,,,1ui1r,e liGlll9. It bad been previously arrangEdth e tt e t m no . Pity.'4 b kuld be admitted without a ticket; and the Seats wi!'e Was equally as respectable as numerousf. the _e.. reserved for the ladies, and the managers admit thu!utration had the Courtesy end good sense Lambeth, e tc, d I::_tt. before the ..eneral public. Finsbury ix ,. ere seve pililr.ylebone, SoutCwark, and Westminster e , p their posi. ,io4l_represented by deputations, w . ho took _ 1 , 440 1 4 a i the front ranks of the meeting, and made a pro 't the 3PIa Y of White wands and tricolor rose s tte i s n . A t l h a e n i 3: 1,{3448 ladies wore the same bright ribbons the great flak:o°' w hile a few enthusiastic admirers 0 TI;e1:, appeared in chapeaux a la Hongrze. 1311„.4,00rs were not opened until twe l ve a o n 'c d loc s k t , re b e u ts t Her e ',,i)re that hour the adjac , ?nt :glare cand.iuroaged with res pectably-dressed people, notwith le, :g that the atrnosph• re Of the morning was ' raw and i ' l'') iva P i tib le ! and they exhibited remarkable patience TOM V% ,'ng ter admission The interior Thenf theTTuno,a. ti jtivei'll'i hit d .the occasion. lc i` 6 en au col ,ye up for the /.,41.'ers were raised behind the platform, bet we lec . , Mal l Jack of old England and the star tilia%-;•°f Anierica. The platform was reservedffiofficers, s r p s Fr g the who t ire st;iin committee and the Hungarian . It tlts oni,% rt i b l o ti ra g wit us as exiles from fr o o ß m s t p h p e o l g r o e u e, st a iv a e ire la d n i d e , e %unit e Observed I wo 0. 1 . eof the East. In the centre . of e t n h e e e, p o la n t e fo f r o m r lAN b`tie' wore placed on a raised occasion. 44soy 'h alleY St uart, the chairman of the meeting, h l er , ter the illustrious object Pt°44ttie eeefusion occurred before t e li f e te o t pe e Cieg and 4ti ,he'ags, owing to the crowded st ate to invade a Potti o , uetermination of a few individuals of the () r t. () the om Pssl - ° f the seats tapart for the ladies, but . an (T -ye wa y i „ , their gallantry, .1,44. I,,!.tla!e.ur of those who w I'd of t This difficulty, however, bad no gl' w4B made t se sod d re th e o n e o y t u i e tl r u ed l h t e lm e to n at g t e b o ly e t tclattitik.`_'!,Lother apple of discord was o s t r h r w o h w o n sot,tittuYltie coal a r of Feargus 0 Conn , n othn o e f length Itlcl igo at ? 4 seat the platform amidst a (, 1114 's wP )1•1 which lasted for some minutes. outburst t t wintoaae vat . ° 3 an almost r of "Turn .L him out! pi , oatt 0, Most universal c y . cf:t ecoizitt:' off !" but Mr. Lewis, one Okl)1 that th ey e, stepped forward and reminded ge ~, hid met for the purpose of rendering teelmg I wittd 3 ,v liossath, and not to manifest ef the th e rn m a e n e a t -- :,b Nut, " Political personage who might fo a happen r n e y e o f to th b i e s tittited i attended koiNtoil, The ateeting seemed to see the force astit h .td ° nee more it became quiet. immediately })f,,tEtits4,hipy,.NY before one o'clock, and the mem" bY Mad a m 0 Pulsky and other Ma ladies, da e si° of th:, mans himself, surrounded by oiNe4r4,,°naging committee, ascended the a th t e re p m la e t n f d or ? m as . b el of th uee Was of course the signa . 4steteivedeetleg and enthusiastic waving of h s a t t a s a , r w t h w ic a h s 1144 )tttd to 4 ' 441 a nd again. Lord Dudley ' t lt e , ays the chair, and the ceremonial of presenting s e e slob!, i a Proceeded with. - ttid.... -,-,ord in presenting the 111. )1,1 mstri . my hand Westminster ad ilticloptil'us Sir, The address I hold in _ _est and 1 / 4 l ii ter; 1;4 p!;;Clic meeting of theoceittiozneenrs last, and tk meet. is tills room on the 20t h General Sir D, likkY tahs,inic,was Presided over by in Par :ol44 ohs' thl'lB., one of the Representatives az., e City o f „ h. WestminsteThe address is as i. , til t N', -.....t. To LOUIS ROSSUTH. 1 4t, t g r ged by profound sympathy for yourse i l n f and e ktirpttofril4 People and by a deep interest )1 11 - 1 1411 co." fundamental principles of freedom, and .. the lltoP,4ll(l3ttt-4:sairtir tome .estsiential to the maintenance of liberty, ti 4 444 , , we (e4iz:tid Hungary. have n i o u bl p y ab s l t i r o ugz e l e e t d ing ,ied) desires s of Westminster, congratula li,4lop th' to manifest our cordial . our de- Iv dttlct, fie Preservation of your life, and tor y men. t ' 4ii ( ! t u the foe f freedom and of all free on to h llti4 l with thankfsuolness to God your presence on 4t;lit.t!iAre°44ll,,d• Those institutions which youd youraaner and b ili N we Maven strive n to defend amidst E!g spirit 11, ) ,, e t has aPPily enjoy ; we trust that theor _a_ li rit t ili oect pireserved the ancient lawsamongsit " the , 1 kit 4 , 4 1 People Will be e self-government advanced by your rt 4 4 Etpd geni us, stimulated stimulated anddthe power of the te th °4 both . 11 • We desire that . I N r ° rakitt sides of the Atlantic should a te t kll i tee r„.eusoce and extension of human tlftk's e„4.'eatative government, wherever . I VB filt'llde,' Ightened by a sense of di displayed. the iarmedin e n r a t y looted b t4e privileges valiantly 44i4''l chat eek such as Hungary has recgenntttyly, duty, ki? kito tiici )' oar forefathers and wh w ic o h n 4 6, 1 Y aim Itot be for t ' ' the enjoyment of I ) 7 t2 t t il ltl Its Nee ; b '°-ten an ill& and our hearts haanvde resolu tely.er.d. t e t a t el ikeil e t p w vigitustutthat watch t h over ra them, so that en tklle,l tbeal:3ll°uld be r epelled, W and our children taught rns - lite to tOe'tiniableval of the birthright hope t l tti t r' 6 l:4 t ." 11 '11n 0 , 1 ;, And while ue thus resolved to OP th Kpl„ v, It is our earnest ;IV h t tr 'Li ma fatall times) ha t t nurture the .6k 1 04 t 1 __, Lien Y . beready ~, ‘ , t t ) t vitr u -- ,.ce and resources la preventingl, witote !kang to defend or obtain similar for t0t,h;440,,V1g a ssaulted by foren . tu other em - Out, die w 4., ioodshed, and have no ay sympathy erely meanie effct ti ' i t 4,: tt, 41'4u those r evolutions whic feel bcund to 4ti o e t fo r rt 'e of despoti sm , we with the admi tke wi, ll Of er,,,4,11 national efforts to improve . .„ s of th , 4 :to r i l d e ti 1/. h?;glilraffairs. Confident that ne t d he n t a i t m ie o n wiii ki t 4 !1 , 4 1i : % ler Y and the more enlghtc _ again ttihuh i'lrettsvP4t of Your career, will , 4 %, lt, tou for the recovery or attainment people of i t kl rtry 4'l.ll%ent we doubt not that the of m c fl on ke . will then '44 for as the l' f • of America t; 1, ot4 sadwith et...., tatted States tit k l 'thi, resis t E?rras . and firm nerves to succour oauuot A, sad ° Pp or , '.. r teashy interferenc • lauding the Ottja r(,,,1,A, arlltY pass without ( n i p n p defiance of ti,d4ra4 saci /t4l° Protection afforded .-,-,. e P or t e to Pk 4 ! ~4 141 th t , 3644 reenaces) by the Suniluo ii 41 4 " r lcieh iether noble patriots who took refuge stir 0 1 4 " ttib ae sPit 1* to 011 .lti d l'lo t i 4 ia of „ h ity; and permit the e s many glo oV 0 11, 41 4 ta your sorrow for 1 6. 1. tlap,"ttle 0 , whuur righteous cause who . fell in the We tt't!w•ilr2ktiti-rn'etlder the Austrian executioner. 11:41I 'wed v llce tir4 4 t 3 to you because we are atssuarnedd lend 4 B r 1 1:01 4 t _ge and rejoice your hear , (NY. ° ' m I glit ? e tt,. u the Efforts which you can never cease e() -4104 cause and common weal of Ikleeti ii Was .1 t Proceeding when our report left.) 141‘ 11 'GRAPH. t i ,. LE qt 4 (Tills Day) 1 4 ZII CA,I,„ --- - . --„,_ ~ t ,' rop„,, --'-N ttAIWEEN LONDON AND Iss e°l4 1 4o 1 ; 1 °Pettit lii.x.itlS• • wires 'l,l was ° II eh ( ' f., e! the electric telegraph . ill 'tiatti,,°,ll,llcint, , 418 , for the transmission of mes- Oalons'tier,hio i ttity b e :m to take lace at noon to-day. on y tilPortk, ql)e sled th i a 3 t an event of sucehlcatle tlie,,, arid d' 4 w o , iti a-'lOll bet u Lti be attended by some com % 'a : 8 ° In'h::_,eeti the The first instantaneoustiitpi:4,4atnel4dehYui3tt/s,44elaZtytaltnecl.gsrietuaatetactd eiinticesomuinnigthrthiteeswwewlohlrilcbdh: ttAl.:l9iththteestsa7pritsh: 0 it,ti%Urevselos of andiasoeaw, wondersehowever, the there ef wasth the 't4 ;St tl t , t Ns 411':1,diehtiort thna?-tnYs'uch an extraordinary . ,°,llie'ptitMll,PY, 4 0 ,2' 4 , to be tried. Neither the dirFc 14 " 11 „e D ' i a , tit 'Ottip - (:tuer fun ' • of the Submarine "st.-feet tElaell' were pr e e t s i e " t a , nes and the subordinate , 4 1/e tio: l PPej t 9 1,tr,..)4P1i stationnof the South-Eastern ik't 1. ti tis;,` l ,, l4 th,: iv 'clothing about the matter beyond IN".111.4)' 4 .' 4 41 f- PaPers. At twelve o'clock se e,.. loitONat i tt (I t . the purpose of transmitting rc ' 14 'lt ih N 4t° t) Pcirtanec to Paris, but those in charge o kp h he th t cl ttl4'tDvt said they could only undertake. oft 44:114,t4ed forwarPittee, the parties running the risk ,h a the h t k d ed to Paris. They remonstrated and t li -keitic4'ver 'ertisettnent, but without avail. In con se op t Nit,, ti (5 Tei s ef representations being made, at the 4Cilt% h e totlcit4lsll Office in Mo orgate-street, the sube -1,, pt',a NOars, 454• bridge 1 ,- a greed, after the lapse 141,1114 ha k } e ,l rnessa the whole distance, at eth In t o silen t s • _ of going t o _ llli e r tLe w,_ ascertain at the time of -4e th e .• communication wassufficiently 41, 'hi 4- M to be transmitted. 4,4tettots4-- -------_._____------- 111 1 INS 113 XS Op kt SEAIIO ~„ HIS GRACE THE AND ot'L `J-c CANTEItI3URY tr 4 \ 141N''Vl.,,lett, .2)-17'01i OP THE SUN. titil4(.)tt- ,111315 eared in the Morning Chronicle t ii hi r l t tile E ;,..,' ,letidecl " Church Desecration," con ikt clt4 toolC4 .147rueslY exaggerated statements of ,Islkllst!Oi'Ptett.,Pelane ill Brasted Church on Sunday, tiiilth tb,, (, ri when three gentlemen, faithful kt•j•ill:el1114 ill\'eh-urel? .of Englad, attended to o c b , : ),,It,,ttiehre (141 ,nonitions of his Grace the Ar o ki:-94 'lt ' tt"/vl'cleY Obeyed. On that occasion my duty , 11 .s w , f tl, so/e/y, im elled me to approach N4et tatia;teht nf the rad of the altar at the time /1 4C 1 : 0! Pqr,. e Holy: Communion, to remark the ,illti,mictihtis, Itiiintng that most sacred of all sar- Vißt" ° lt' ll ) ri ti °t il l ' "acl great reason to believe that , (, n e . 4ecordance with the rubric were there 0 . 4 •a s , ', but i !spor t ., " arr e - most solemnly declare that no s t lit tl 'llt tted tLerenee in act or in demeanour wa t4t4l :Pitit "Y rile or by anyone else. The i‘4 4 Vv 14 Which those 4 1 .'he o -ell as . statements are ex- NklkPe 1 1.,, ,Dr th e 1 14 the o bservations made at the iitilßia, -,,etter, show as clearly their motive , ii%,q:ti at „ Th ey are directed against me, and i ty . ; ft °t . .`..'_lgh. dignitar, by certain . parties 4 41 4t11) pike,,,e`'ugUlZauce to be taken of their Fir- I b,ril k ,,Y bi Pow rY easy for them to talk of the 41.44tltWhenit et, :' of the violence of sectarianism, me '4 I N •I'l 4itt sults their purpose, they can call 4 h ltl4 Q `'gh I 4 , ,., t th e n acij o • . attend regularly at church 11 0; h 4 ih rev., itlthg parish ; but I have too deep 4 tAq„.lla tktht I:.etlee that ought to be felt and ob t),'N 4y hays' of Goi CO be guilty of the pre t Y et L , 4 1' , 414 t„enarged ‘lit!lit)klYs tottPfiruprtate tt large part of the offer me with. It has been the t h, :,, t Zti'l, t he 1,, P‘aYing the choristers, but on my 4."TattY his i,4ter to the ordinary, it has been MlL:th i % ~t 1 by 811:iiraee that all t moneys collected at ca hl. b y I) given for pious and charitable -` fl to Ward thee Minister and the other half by 'lltit• tertai:tl,B:.,.This decision tens t''''tis, and has elicited strong marks 4 it -...._ r has given great ti. -. am, Sir, yours, &C., 1 , 1 , 0 ~,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,. QuiN, churchwarden. Ft t 4Z ii;; 4 . , a „,.°):41 CozPRE.......The importation _of t 1ta,9).14.11, '4 endiPg the 10th of October,. 1 §a 0 0 „ ,i' i' , ! l ,,ti in the con e 3 ponding period I 0111261 b. THE SUN KOSSUTH AT BIRMLNGHAM Kossuth left Manchester 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 thjeliner, and to hear him in a short address explain some of his views. Kossuth is stated, in the course of his speech on that occasion, to have in the most energetic manner denied all or any participation in the opinions of Socialists or Communists. He did not understand Socialism, for every one differed 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 bats 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, arid 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. Paisley, 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 had 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. Scholetield, M.P. The Bev. 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, .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, 111. 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, fir they were of the number of those who believed that it was " 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, but 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 had 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 company, a copy 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 been 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, he re gretted to say, had, 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. He 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 w as yet a future for Hu n g ar y , in which Engla n d must take part for good or ev il. He hated and detested war, but he would not be a p art y to a policy which arrested war today only for the purpose of i nsur i ng i t more certainly for to morrow . sought a cl ear s t age and no favour for all nations. They would not interfere themselves, but they shou ld not allow th e i n t ervention of others. Had they acte d up to this poli c y w h o now ?—(Chee rs ) would have been King of Hun gary Where would have been the Pope of Rome ?—(Cheers.) had they arrested war by their tim o r ous policye believed there never was a time wh en it would b I l be more difficult to avert war than now. Give the absolute monarchs of Europe a few mon th s ' moresw ; an a d nd an w a r h c o h the result of tyranny, mus t burst li:ogse say it would no t reac h our ota In conclu s i on , h e proposed, with all shore s ?—(Cheers.) all the h onours and muster, all the enth us i asm they could "Our illus triousyc'ould gue s t, L ou i s K ossuth. " KossuTß then rose to address the meeting. The moment he was upon his legs every person in the room stood up and hailed with a h s out which must have been EVENING, NOVEMBER 13, 1851 heard far beyond the walls of the building. Again and again the cheering was repeated, the ladies being quite as enthusiastic 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 gentlemen,—Three years ago 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 attempts 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 a calm 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; bat 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 ocly 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 who, by applying to several special objects of associa tion which has produced so many wonders in this glor 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 self•confldence—(Hear)—that the liberation of my people from those hereditary burthecs 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 strnggle 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 misfortunes, 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 1, 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 any 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 knew that it is not given to mars 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 ruins 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 observer cannot fail to mark in the histories of our past; hither my at tention was drawn by the fact that the fatal sickness of European statesmanship, inherited from ambitious con querors—the propensity to centralise every power, and to govern the people like imbeciles , even in their do mestic concerns, is here. It has not yet extirpated the t g h e e r m w e o t f municipal which m y p u h b a l d i c p t life, ee h e. e i c t t h e o t t u e t h w m h lh— acdee l repeat e t quite 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 o f it all Ministerial re sponsibilities, all Parliamentary omnipotencies, are but a pitiful equivalent. But above all, higher was my at tention forcibly drawn by the wonderful greatness of your your country. And I was searching the source of it, arid 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 c y r o e u a r ti n e a n t ,s io d n a . y e S p i t r e , adlike over the spirit thewavee, of l G fe o h d e , which, dit on in nthe 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. — (L oud chr ring.) outg. ) o S f o the w fluctuation asE n gla n d of waveringthoughts tome the b ook of life which t led e e me e 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 bend.—(Cheers.) My heart and my soul will as long as I live bear on itself the seal of this book of life.—(Hear, 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 fragilities. I know that every society which is not a new one, has, besides its own fragilities, to bear also the burdens of the sins of the past, and I know it to be almost a fatalistical law in mankind's history, that the past throws over so large a shadow in the present and in the future, that to dispel it entirely the sun must be mounted very high. But so much I must state with fervent joy —th at on the w h o l e t h e i mage w hi c h rea li ty in. reEatengelsas it dteeinp re tng presents bears at every step such a seal of g with rich life, and so solid in founda tion, that far surpasses even such expectations as were n m a l t rl i e o strikes A di e of n a o mra continual material, progress towards most thing th e which d in ef the the m e i h d s s e t r ov observer your ris th a great s u e h ele ments meets i these elments displ a y suc h a mighty, v i social respects,f r perfection; e free, pervaded d h cheerful activity, and this ac ti v i ty i s so public spirit of the p eo pl e , that howe y ve p r gigantic ytho the triumphs of civilizatio n may b e which England hasa se al ready proudly to show to the astonished world, and great they are—they are thi ngs ca ll ed wonders by his tory which shrink to pigmies b e f ore them. Neverthe less, one feels by instinct a ll t hi s to b e b ut a degree —a gigantic one to be sure, but s till on l y a degree to what posterity will have the lot t o admire here. But, having the honour to dine in Birmingh am , sur roundedf by you here in the Town-hall, which, lik e your free schools, your Market-hall, and severa l o f your hos pitals, all proofs of h raised t e wit h out loftypublic anyexternal spirit, assistance, areso many self-confident force, and perseverance of Birmingham. You will allow m e 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 h ave a practical result, than here 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 ow n, 10 proo what say, Iv yQtl till me briefly to state the motives which make me 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 locomotive 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 or 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. Aud 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, I 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 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 Cesar; 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 k now 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 Elkington, the electrotype to us.—(Hear.) I know that machine weaving was here used before the power-loom was introduced elsewhere. I know that here was the workshop of Watt, whose steam-engines blotted the word " distance" out of the dictionary.—(Cheers.) Bat 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 felicitas 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 am, 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 brea s t s 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 bo 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 adver s ities? It is 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 should be em bodied in myself? I have the concentrated 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 be 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 are steady and lasting.—(Hear.) My belief; therefore, is that it is the inatiet of the people which is the true revelation of mankind's divine origin. It is therefore, I was saying, 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— his greatest pride in the idea to be a citizen of Great Britain; still allow mo 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 their crimes by lies, told you the tale that we are in Hungary but an insignificant party, and this party fana ticised by myself. Well, I feel proud at my country's strength.—(Hear, hear.) They stirred up by foul delu sions to the fury of civil war our Croat, Wallach, Serb, and Slovack brethren against us. It did not suffice. — (Hear, hear.) The house of Austria poured all his forces upon us ; still it would not do.—(Cheers.) We beat them down.—(Cheers.) Tho proud dynasty was to stop at the foot of the Czar. He 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 dipl omacy, w hi c h k new h ow to introduce treason into our ranks.—(Cries of" Shame.") This caused us to fall, combi ne d w i th Russ i an arms . B u t still we were styled to be only a party fanaticisod 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, Serbs, and Slovacks melted in one body, will range under the standard of freedom and right.—(Hear, hear.) And be sure they will.—(Cbeers.) Humanity, with its child ish faith can be deluded for a moment, but the bandage soons 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 scorned 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. —(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 breast of my people beats.—(Hear, hear.) The glory of battles is ascribed to the leaders in history—theirs are the laurels of immortality. And yet on meeting the danger they knew that alive or dead, their name will upon the lips of the people for ever live. How different, how purer, is the light spread on the ima g e of thousands of the peoples' sons, who, knowing that wher e th ey f a ll their names ,unhonoured an d unsung, but who, n evertheless, animated by the lov e o f they will lay unknown, freedom and fatherland, we nt on calml y , si nging na tionalt the batteries whose cross-fire vomited death and destruction on them, an d took them without anthems, against firing a shot—(Hear, hear)—they who fell, fall shout, ing the Hungary.—(Hear.) "hurrah for Hungary l"—(G rea t :: And so they died by thous ands, the un named demi-gods.—(More cheering.) l Such is the people of Hungary.—(ear.) Still, they say it is I w h o cheering.) have inspired them. No; a thousand times, no • It is they who have inspired me. — usiastic cheering.) Even • • ' Even the features of Cato partook of the impre ss i on o f this dreariness. A shadow passed over the brow of Socrates on drinking the hemlock cup. With us, those who beheld the nameless victims of the love of coun try, lying on the death-field be ne at h Buda's walls, met but the impression of a smile on the frozen lip s of the dead, and the dyi n g ‘‘a who mind;nswered those would console but by the words , Buda is ours. Hurrah for the fatherla nd 1 So Never they spoke and died. He who witnessed such scenes, not as an excep tion, but as a constant rule, he who saw the adolescent adolescent weep when told he was di yet t o o young to for his land; he who saw the sacrifices of spontaneity; he who heard what a fury sprea d over the people on hearing of the catastrophe; be w ho 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 knows w hat sort of sentiment is burning 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 the hour of national resurrection strikes —he who is aware of all this, will surely bow before this people with respect, and will acknowledge with me, that such a people wants not to be inspired, but that it is an everlasting source of inspiration itself.—(Great cheers.) This is the people of Hungary.—(Cheers.) And for me, my only glory is, that this people found in myself the pordouifioutiou of their own sentimeuto.—(Hear.) This is all 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, gentlemen, 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 motives 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 net 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—(Loud 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. lam 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 shako 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 jest; 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 his 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 wo 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 wore attacked, you know how. We were secluded 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 flow to mendicate 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 he 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 aro 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 his very words—We are told that the Magyars are discon tented. We know it well.—(Cheers.) But it is notour 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 not 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 wo 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 aceept. How then eau 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 is 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 more than the passing emotion of noble hearts. Full well I know that the sympathy of the people of England is no idle thing. Has the public mied of Eng land ever taken any dir ec ti on —h as it ever bent its sym pathy to any great chj ec t—i t will carry it —it willhave out of it some practical result.—(Loud cheers.) This firmness of character —this untiring perseverance every great and n o bl e m i nd—is the true key of your in country's greatnes s; so I rely upon it confidently.— (Cheers.) What is it I rely upon as the practical re sult of the generous sympathy of England for my native land? Let rue first of all see whether the Hungarian revolution be matter of praimseadoer reproach. It is a matter of fact that we have a man who, no revolution. Take . confiding in the protection of the law, is resting quietly in his - house, 4uti the night watch , stead of taking care that his tranquillity shall not be disturbed, g i ve th e torc h to an i ncen di ar; , an d induces him, by false promises, to burn his 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, and 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 the h onest i ncendiary and the faithful murderer. (Laughter.) rushes on th e i n j ured man with his armed guards, and Nay, more, he joins the incendiary, and the poor injured man, calling together his brethren and his son s , b eats down the incendiary, the murderer, the night watch, and hi s guard. Is there an unprejudiced man in the world who wou l d charge the injured man the night watch ?---(Cheers.) In this po with having com m i tte d an assault on the legitimate authority of pular sketch you have the history of But I beg not to be misunderstoo d , lt t i h s e no li t e th ng e a fe r a is r e of w t a h r e . and rwhi e h liberty; makes and m s e a v n o 1 o u f t j o u n s a t e y e e right,proac h s will sy continue this. la m .so; and little do I care what names the ene • right, and liberty may call me. Your g a les of d justice : your Sydneys were also called revolutionistsP ens their li o e . f t (sir day; and so may God bless me as I never ir brighter fame then theirs,—(Loud and prolonged -n'cheer ing.) a So be sure I take a revolution for a very misfortune; but highly I own that an oppressed greatol seeing every other means of aggression fail, has aperiphet, 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 ether 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 syst em o f ter rorism—all have the same consideration.—(Ch eers .) 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 r i g h ts, still we conserved, in our municipal institutions, some shadow of constitutional liberty. And so the Hunga rian soil was not the so il of c onspiracy —my nation had, and has still, neith er th e w ill no r th e occ as ion to share in the movement of those ne w do c trines 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 tail 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 reg a rdi ng w h at tongue h e spea k s or in what church he prays; but the Hungarian people, be coming master of his fate, was moderate 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 ev er y 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 them have we thrown back over their frontiers. We had but to follow, as we had a right to do, and the theatre of war might have been breught 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 ho 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 disorder and of 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 assistance from England which I 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 more to fear danger from within. Your fate is not depending upon any mortal's whims. Here you aro the masters of your own fate. But in respect to f ore i gn re l ations , 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 interred questions are dependent upon your Foreign office. Danger can gather over England only from abroad Do not object, gentlemen, that Albi on , 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, oven more than of yore, to proclaim with the greatest of your poets— " This England never did, nor ever shall Lie at tho 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 free trade your due influence in Europe —are not all these as so many arteries on which its life depends? Let but one 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.) The finger of God is over Europe now stretched out. One may dissemble to see it, but nobody can atop it. And there are but two cases possible. One is, that the mass of ap proaching events will force established governments in Europe ono 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 be great, gl or i ous, and free. Because the question will be not upon parti cular points—the question will be, what principle i s over Europe to rule—liberty or despotism. I k now the people of England in that case will not side with des potism, but that they will side with liberty; only I humbly wish tha t England sho u ld pronounce her will in time, that her silence may not be taken for irresolution or indifference.—(Cheers.) The second case is, that the struggle may be not of states against states, but that th people of Europe may ma k e up accounts with their own rulers, and settle their own domestic affairs. ghat i humanity expects in th at case from England? It is that England shall not on l y respect—that is out of doubt— but shall make respected the principle of dp non-interfer ence by foreign countr i es, and the inde e every people t o sett l e i ts own affairs, for dent that cannot rightof alter the matter should the Czar once m violate the sov ere i gn i nde pendence o o f r more a b t e willi n uL i g u to_ manity expect s f rom t h e people of England that it will shake the mi g h ty trident, and shoot out a powerful stop. (Cheers.) Be sure followed gentlemen, th word, followed up w i t h the manly resolution to bo at as good as your word, will suffice. It will cost you :neither money nor blood; but by it you will have saved the lives of myriads, averted many a bloodshed, and given liberty to the world.—(Loud cheers.) A glorious mission, a glorious calling—almost Divine. —(Continued c h eer i ng .) Th e s hort moral of my i long nssia speech, gent l emen , t h en is—(Renewedchn e ) her foot on the by her intervention in Hungary, has put h neck of Europe. As long as Hungary—as long as Italy will not become free, that foot will rest on Europe's neck. Yet it will pass from the neck to the head, tnl nor tranquillity, but will be in Europe neither peace nor but a continual boiling up vo lcano, an Europe a great barrack and a great blood field . —(Cheers.) The cause i of Hungary is the cause of civil and religious lib erty. I am m yself a Protestant—(Cheers)—not only b y bi rth but b c onviction. But I declare that I wo u ld struggle w ith equal enthusiasm for the rights of my Catholic countrymen as for the Protestants.--(Cheers.) My principle is that the Church should not meddle with COURT CIRCULAR. WINDSOR, Nov. 12. The Queen and Pri nce Alb ert wa lk ed in the Home Park and Slop es , thi s morn i ng. The Prince of %Vales, the Princess Royal, the Prince Alfred, and the Princess Alice, took walking and pony exercis e . Th e P r i nce 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 'Waiting,the Equerry i n Li eu t.-C ol. P. H. Seour. The Duk e an d D uchess of Beymdford, Cowley, are expected at the Castle t d and the n a Lady visit t o h er M a j esty. to-day, on Her Majesty and his Royal Highness Prince Albert, with the Prince of Wales and Prince Alfred, took a drive this afternoon in an open carriage and four. L or d C harles A. Fitzroy, and Lieut,Co l "el F. H. S e y mour attended on horseback. The Earl of Listowel has relieved stone in hi s d ut i es of Lord in 'Waiting, and Colonel . y Berkel e y D rummond has relieved Mr. E. Ormsby Gore as G room in Waiting. Lord Elphia. yesterday (the morrow of St. Martin) in the Court of The nomination of Sheriffs for 185 2 took place Exchequer, before the Lords of her Majesty's Most Honourable Privy Council, three gentlemen being for each county in England and Wales. The Lords of the Privy Council present were —th e named f Office), the Lord Chancellor, the Secr e t ary Chancellor of the Exchequer (presiding in his G o ld Robe o of State for the Colonies, the Chief Commissioner of the Woods and Forests, the Lord Chief Justice of England, the Lord Chief Justice of the Court of Common Pleas, the Lord Chief Baron of the Exche. quer, and Mr. Baron Parke. Mr. C. Greville was the Clerk of the Council in waiting. Judges Wightman, Erle, Platt, Vaughan, Williams, and Talfourd, assisted at the nomination. sotrfee Carlisle, P The Oxford Uni vers i ty C ommission had a meeting Present—The in Downing the Dean yesterday, at th e official r es id ence of the First Lord of B th i e sho T p r o e f as N ur o y m ene Mastert— T re the of Pembroke, the Rev. H. G. Liddell, the Rev. G. H. S. Johnson, and the Rev. A. P. Stanley (Se cretary.) The Prussian 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 quer yesterday, at his official residence in Downing.. street. The Liverpool Freehold Land Society has Put_ chased a valuable estate on the London-road, called th o kitliCPt - 14110 gfltlit'eolo#4l l Pg ALIA WCatY•&TO UP& LONDON, polities—(Tremendouscheering)—and that Governments should not meddle with religion.—(lionewed cheers.) Even with regard to Church property I differ from the " , ' - iNgkiifj- ; views of some reformers, for I hold all property to be ' P'*se-..ZsCi. sacred, and I would not deprive the Catholic of the property which our former kings have given 1,31:."' her, while I would leave the Church to distribute it among her clergy as she pleased. Now as to the means of obtaining a practical result, I frankly confess that I look to public opinion as the means of benefiting my native land an d every country in Europe. And 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. My humble request is, that you will be pleased, in every meeting, whenever the question may arise, to remember that the question of Hungary is con nected with the victory of the principle of freedom in Europe and the principle of self-government, and, there fore, whether on the question of free-trade or any other question, I beg the people of England to declare that m every nation s hall e o erea.( h c a b v e e er t a h . e ) r l eg b u i l a a i t s ion my of bu h m er ble ow pr n ay d e o; —that public opinion, manifestation o f t h at Tore strongly. I ask the which i s now rouse d , not b y me, but by th e i nc i dent of my being peopleor , twl carriedieelfle.r the opportunity n R 13 gr e eh f s o ss mfre w hod s ß t t by their political dthll e ll — (Cheers)—and who have always supported the princi tpileeosfobfrolitbheerrthyo,otdo gives strengthened their between m an e d teth jet:an:en:it people.— (Cheers.) Members of that great supporttetl t o my y ee be n u rl s e by common of mankind, the m s suffering. e u r i e n b g a . p p yM land e d sufferings entitle you numberless s o w p e ay es a o t! themta you from thete at tention t bottomion tot the feeble .m ye wordswe desolation. cry of oppressed humanity, crying out to you byas the stuttering tongue. People of England, do n Y ot e fo forget my thy happiness our suffering —mind in thy freedom tehtoie who are oppressed—mind in thy proud securit th se o dignity of other countries—remember the Cckleneyss of human fate—remember that the wounds inflicted on 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 ) our 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 gr c i c a ed n e w ed by wrongs, from Mr. ul whoexpres T se o da rnin Smith hope ethat u a p li on par liki en u ts . 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 great enthusiasm, and was acknowledged by M. Pulszky. Mr. SCHOLEFIELD, M.P., proposed " The Health of Mr. George Dawson." Mr. DA.wsoN, in returning thanks, said thiat whatever any person might say to the contrary, Birmingham was the most democratic 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. _ _ Mir. 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. Muntz, 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 seal 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 caase will ever at last be victorious. Although for a time the oppressor may boast, A day dawns fur Hungary, speedy and glorious, When her sons may defy the imperial host! And still may thy voice speak in Liberty's name, And still may thine arm strike her foes with success, Till the despots are covered with terror and shame, And Victory's laurels thy brow wreathe and bless! Farewell to thee, Kossuth! with fervent emotion Our English hf arts bid thee God-speed on thy way, And when thou in safety bast crossed the wide ocean. Oh, think of the friends who now greet thee to-day! WILLIAM G URN= DRURY-LANE T HEATRE. 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 de force are perfectly marvellous, and as pleasing as they are marvellous. Ilia 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 be 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. WRIGHT AT SHEFFIELD. We are rejoiced to learn that * Wright is himself again, 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 shurt, Wright is " all right." He is now starring it at Sheffield, and has by his performance of Marma duke Magog, in The Wreck Ashore, and Mr. Bobtail, in illy Precious Betsey, drawn crowded houses every night. THURSDA Y