The Sun.
London, England, 1854-07-13 00:00:00

thrown by the treachery of GoRGEY and the Cos-
sack hordes under PASKIEWITCH, the ignorant may
regard him as nothing more than an unsuccessful
adventurer. But those impartial witnesses who
have perused his history aright and without
prejudice—those contemporary witnesses who can
think for themselves from the facts transpiring
around them, and recorded (as they transpire)
in the public newspapers, must already have
judged him very differently, as he will be judged
years and years hence by the European annalist
of the hereafter. The unprejudiced and impar-
tial observer must have recognised in this remark-
able man no mere speculator in politics—no merely
selfish or unprincipled demagogue. Through all
the calumnies heaped upon him by his enemies,
through the haze of malignant -vituperation in
which he has walked ever since his foot was first
pressed upon the shores of England—his fair fame
as an Exile of Patriotism has to the discerning
only loomed the more grandly throughout. We
speak of this man now, in the days of his misfor-
tune, precisely in the same terms as those in
which we spoke of him in the hour of his success,
when he was the acknowledged leader of the
liberated and victorious Hungarians. We speak
of him when powerless, as we spoke of him when
powerful. Success or failure signifies nothing
in the individual. The man is still the same
in himself—before or after. HANNIBAL was
still HANNIBAL, still the peerless general, after he
had been vanquished. NAPOLEON was still NA-
POLEON, still the marvellous conqueror, after Water-
loo. History and posterity have in each instance
ratified the decrees of the more discerning, or of the.
most unprejudiced, of immediate contemporaries.
HANNIBAL is still—the wide world over—recog-
nised as greater than SCIPIO: NAPOLEON as greater
than WELLINGTON. And so to history and to
posterity, exile and defeat are of no account in the
balance that weighs the intrinsic value of the
really illustrious. So it is with M. KOSSUTH. So it
will be universally recognised to have been with
him in the hereafter. At present he must rest
satisfied with being appreciated by certain divi-
sions of the population. To the hearts of the vast
multitude his words of fire will probe with the
force and magic of electricity. Out of
the fullness of his heart his mouth has
spoken—has spoken again eloquently, ardently,
persuasively. His oration will be found else-
where in our columns of this evening—an oration
eminently worthy of perusal and after-consideration.
Differing from the illustrious orator, though we
may repeatedly in the course of his candid and
manly argument, we cannot fail to recognise in
him the ardour of the patriot and the skill of the
rhetorician—in it, a masterly exposition of the
present juncture in the war with Russia, and of
the future prospects of Christendom.

Matters are still—both in the Euxine and in
the Baltic—simply in a state of preparation.
Great things are going to be done—not actually
doing, but going to be accomplished, or, at any
rate, to be attempted. After drawing near to
Cron s tad t and reconnoitring, Sir CHARLES
Narixit's fleet has retired again to Baro Sound—
deterred from making an attack upon those re-
doubtable fortifications until the French troops
may have arrived, or until the Asiatic Cholera
shall have disappeared. Simultaneously the com-
bined fleets in the Black Sea are getting ready for,
or are at all events hesitating about, a descent
upon the Crimea, and a formal onslaught upon the
garrison of Sebastopol. All the while the soldiers
of France and England are actively bestirring
themselves. All the while the allied contingents
are gathering at Varna, are marching upon
Schumla, are pressing onward towards the actual
seat of war beyond the Danube, from Scutari
through the Bosphorus, from Gallipoli by way of
Adrianople. Meantime, at home an English fleet
has been assembling in the Downs for the purpose
of crossing the channel to embark some 20,000
or 30,000 of the gallant soldiers of our ally,
and thereupon to convey them through the Baltic
Ito their Russian destination. The EMPEROR him-
self proceeding to review the troops in the historic
vicinity of Vimereux ! Everything is ready it
would seem—but the signal. That signal is now
looked fog, is now listened for eagerly both in the
Black Sea and in the Gulf of Finland. So that
this dread war may be the more speedily termi-
nated—may that signal soon become audible in the
battle cries pealed by the fleets and armies of
France and England in the names of VICTORIA
and NAPOLEON !

The House of Commons is very desirous of
preventing bribery and intimidation, so it is posi-
tively alleged, and we are bound to credit the
assertion, for are not its members all " Honour-
able Gentlemen I" It is strange, then, that when
there is such complete unanimity as to the end
and object to be attained, the direct and simple
mode by which it may be accomplished is disre-
garded. Why take such pains to avoid the
obvious course leading to the desired goal, and to
encounter serious impediments, which may easily
be avoided. If secret voting be sanctioned by
the Legislature, corruption, if not altogether
banished, will be reduced within the narrowest
limits. The candidate, or his secret agent, will
not trust the man ready to barter his birthright
for a mess of pottage, to sell his most sacred
privilege for the sake of a few paltry pounds, or
even shillings—for " the gratification" has occa-
sionally been paid in silver. He will not give
any credence to the promise of a man ready to
violate his most solemn obligation by taking the
bribery oath if tendered. No payment in advance
then will be made, and if the voter be inclined
to sell his conscience, he must give credit to the
promises made on behalf of the candidate. He
will not, however, be in any degree more willing
to do so than the candidate is to trust him. He
is too well aware of the proverbial difference be-
tween the would-be, and the actual legislator.
The former is willing to promise anything and
everything. Like the ancient knight-errants, he
refuses no boon that may be asked, while he is
willing to undertake any task, however arduous.
He is, in fact, the ehampion of distressed and suf-
fering virtue all over the world, and happy is the
nation that numbers so distinguished a philan-
thropist amongst its children.
But, unfortunately, when success has crowned
his efforts, when that which he has declared to be
the highest of earthly honours, the subject of his
warmest aspirations is accomplished, his enthu-
siasm rapidly evaporates ; like 808 Acnz's courage,
it " oozes from his finger ends." He suddenly
sinks to a rather commonplace, but far more prac-
tical, character. He looks at matters in a much
more sombre point of view ; and, if he holds a
seven years' tenure of his seat, he is by no means
so complaisant or yielding in his disposition. He
can refuse a constituent, and with a serious counte-
nance rely on the pompous
platitudes he has publicly
put forward. Nay, more, he may not be averse
t° expose a too pressing applicant, and thus ac-
complish a double purpose, by sacrificing a victim
at the altar of his
time deterring fur-
therMOLEBWOB.TII 80
others from annoying him by
own purity, and at the same
speechorru on "the
There would then, as Sir WILLIAM
awbhilechclearly • out in his very
Ballot," be but one mode in
pboliptedractised, when the
voting was secret, viz , a promise
to pay every voter
willing to accept it, in thethisif
event of the election of
the candidate. Now
not altogether im-
practicable, would be so e
xceedingl
so exceedingly difficult y aboveepensive, all,
so easy of detection, that it would very seldom, if ever, be resorted to. In the first place every
voter should be bribed, no matte* place
er ow he voted.
It would not merely be the few who reserved their
votes until they found the probability that they
might turn the scale, and were thus enabled to
strike an advantageous bargain. The remunera-
tion, or, in plainer language, " the bribe," should
be so small as scarcely to tempt any but the most
needy and unconscientious voters, or it should be
so large as to prove almost ruinous to any but
the wealthiest and most unconscientious bribers—
and as universal silence could not be anticipated,
the bribery would be speedily detected, and be
susceptible of easy proof.
There would thus be the very strongest reasons
against its adoption, and even if it were resorted to
the corrupt electors wOuld vote in favour of the ,