The Sun.
London, England, 1861-01-01 00:00:00

to read LADISLAUS TELEKY for JOHN HAROLD
on a passport. Yet this stupid, insane State choose
to do so. She choose, that is, to perpetrate in the
face of civilised Europe an offence, the meanness
of which will never be forgotten; and, she being
the power which was able to compel—the tempter
to whom Saxony dare not say nay—the abasement
of Saxony is equally, and even more, the abasement '
of Austria. What the depth of that abasement is
may be seen in the admirable language of Lord
PALMERSTON in a case substantially parallel, fully
illustrated by the eloquent pen of M. KOSSUTII
in his letter to The Sun of last night ; "if there
is one rule which more than another has been '
observed in modern times by all independent States,
both great and small, of the civilised world, it is the
rule not to deliver up political refugees. The laws
of hospitality, the dictates of humanity, the general
feelings of mankind, forbid such surrenders ; and
any independent Government which by its own free
will were to make such a surrender would deservedly
and universally be stigmatised as degraded and dis-
honoured."

There was in the affair, it seems, something of
the Chinese kidnapping under false assurances, for
which we have just burnt to the ground at Pekin
some £2,000,000 of imperial property. The Saxon
commissary of police gave the Count a solemn promise
that, in the event of his confessing that he was not
the person named JOHN HAROLD in the passport,
no harm should come to him. No sooner, however,
had he made the admission, than the Saxon officers
—who must have studied well in the Jesuit school
of Hapsburgism—laid violent hands on him ! Had
he, at the request of the quaking statesmen of
Vienna, simply removed the noble Hungarian to
the nearest really independent State, we might
have held all parties excused—Austria on account
of her fright, and Saxony on account of her subjec-
tion. But no; the Saxon officials mustneeds show
how well they had been taught to regard themselves
as the police equally of Austria. Well did they
approve their zeal in what is pronounced by the
highest authority impossible—the service of two
masters. We misrepresent, however; it was the
service of but one master—the Saxon Government
was but an upper servant of the one master, Aus-
tria. The English resident Minister, it appears'
immediately protested—many of the Saxons them-
selves did the same—but Baron BEUST, the Minister
President of Saxony, is, it seems, a complete crea-
ture of Austria, and ready, like his immediate Sove-
reign, to work telegraphs, railroads, police,dungeons
and everything in her service. Austro-Saxons
were, however, a little disappointed ; they had some
hope, at first, that they had laid hands on ALEX-
ANDER TELEKY, a military man, who may be of
some use in a new Hungarian campaign ; he fought
in 1818 in Hungary; in 1859 with the Piedmon-
tese against the Austrians; and again with GARI-
BALDI; it would have been something to have shut
up in prison even one efficient Hungarian officer.
Their luck was not, however, so great ; they caught
only a civilian—one indeed of great eminence and
influence, and whose only crime—quite enough to
incur a sentence of death from an Austrian court-
martial in 1848—was that he had been his country's
representative at Paris during the Revolution.
Austria, however, soon found that, degrade her-
self as much as she pleased, it would not be
tolerated by some, at least, of the Great Powers,
that she should injure, in defiance of all the laws of
modern civilisation, a. noble patriot, whose merely
nominal offence was committed eleven years ago.
The French Press was soon instructed to do its
duty, and did it indignantly. Lours NAPOLEON
knows what the position of a refugee is—he has
never shown any insensibility to the rights of poli-
tical refugees—rather the contrary. We can
indeed little doubt that he felt almost personally
insulted by seeing a distinguished refugee delivered
up under a treaty for the extradition of criminals ;
and perhaps the very significant remonstrance
which Austria got from him had as much as any-
thing to do with the speedy release of the prisoner.
Lord JOHN RUSSELL, we may be sure, even in
addressing Austria, would use language not less
worthy of his country than the noble words of

Lord PALMERSTON which we have just quoted.

Indeed, from every quarter but Russia, she could
have heard. but one language—that of warning her
not to persist in so gross a blunder.

But what are we to think of the incurable
stupidity of a Government which, at the very
moment when conciliation of Hungary is of vital
importance to the integrity of the empire, could
thus seize by the meanest treachery one of her
noblest sons, and one who had jest been elected by
the Comitat of Pesth as their delegate ? And
again how stupid—we, can find no other word so

•
appropriate—just when Austria needs, if ever she
did, a character in the face of Europe, to perpetrate
a deed which must degrade her not only
with free Governments, but even with
those who do not epsnly condemn her. Is
it really, the prius dementat, which is the precursor
of the final judgment of Heaven ? No earthly
advantage is conceivable from the step. Even
assume, what no one believes, that it was intended

to make a subsequent show of magnanimity by
releasing the Count, the prior baseness would de-

stroy every portion of magnanimity. Were even
the release not due to the danger of provoking
Hungary to insurrection, and to tho remonstrance
of other courts, yet what magnanimity could there be
in liberating a man captured by the very reverse of
magnanimity ? More than anything of late must
we view this act as showing Austria to be a
doomed incurable. Nothing can save her. A
Government that could do what she has just done,
can never be trusted any more by her nationalities.
Hungary, especially, will see that Austrian resent-

ments cannot be mitigated by time---that she wil

gratify them at the cost of the lowest baseness, and
more than ever will the Magyars demand such

guarantees as Austria cannot violate.

BIDEFORD, NEW YEAR'S EVE, 1860.

TO ELIZA COOK.

This morning, on my garden gate,
I heard a robin sing
As merry as a linnet in

The sweet and bonny spring;
And I felt how ho had suffer'd
For the last week or two;
Yot he had liv'd to sing again,
And so I thought may you.

It often wrings my tender soul
When trilling o'er your lays,
To think that nature's darling child
Must shun her sunny ways.
While the sweet touch that woke her lyre
Is still as brave and true,
As when it struck " The Englishman"
"Not as I us3d to do."

And then I fear at times that I
May live to know the doom
Of being coop'd within the walls
Of pale affliction's room.
And when I dwell on that dark thought
I%Te-p heart-frnrw for you;
God save me from that sad refrain,
" Not as I used to do

Yet, dearest friend, wily should I dip
My pen in briny tears,
And fill my letter full of sighs
Instead of smiles and cheers.
The sorrows of last year are gone,
May joy come with the new,
And glory stream upon your path
Just as it used to do.

EDIVARD