745. AUSTRIAN SLANDERS AND HUNGARIAN BRAVERY.-Kossuth. 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 in Hungary, we are but an insignificant party-and this party fanaticized by myself. Well, I feel proud at my country's strength. They stirred up, by foul delusjons, even to the fury of civil war, our Croat, Wallack, Serb, and Slovack brethren against us: but this did not suffice. The house of Austria poured all its forces upon us; but this would not do; we beat them down. The proud dynasty was forced to stoop 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, that we. the plain children of straight-uprightness, could not match; that is, the intrigues of Russian diplomacy, which knew how to introduce treason into our ranks. This caused us to fail, combined with Russian arms. But still we were styled a party, fanaticized 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, the Croats, Wallacks, Serbs, and Slovacks, united into one body, will range under the standard of freedom and right. And be ye sure they will. Humanity, with its childish faith, can be deluded for a moment; but the bandage soon falls from its eyes, and it will be cheated no


Afterward, the scorned party turned out to be a nation, and a valiant one. But still our enemies said, it was I, who inspired it. Perhaps there might be some glory in inspiring such a nation, and to such a degree. But I cannot accept the praise. No it is not I who inspired the Hungarian people,-it was the Hungarian people who inspired ME. Whatever I thought and still think, whatever I felt and still feel, is but a feeble pulsation of that heart, which beats in the breasts of my people. The glory of battles, in history, is ascribed to the leaders; theirs are the laurels of immortality. And yet, on meeting the danger, they knew, that alive or dead, their names will live upon the lips of the people forever. How different, how much purer, is the light spread on the image of thousands of people's Fons, who, knowing that where they fall they will lie unknown, their names unhonored and unsung, but who, nevertheless, animated by the love of freedom and fatherland, went calmly on, singing national anthems, against batteries, whose crossfire vomited forth death and destruction, and took them, without firing a shot; they who fell, falling with the shout-" Hurrah for Hungary!" And so they died by thousands,-the unnamed demigods! Such are the people of Hungary. Still they say, it was I, who have inspired them. No; a thousand times, No. It is they who have Inspired me.

The moment of death is a dreary one. Even the features of Cato partook of the impression of this dreariness. A shadow passed over the brow of Socrates, on drinking of the hemlock eup. But with us, those who behold the nameless victims of the love of country, lying on the death-field beneath Buda's walls, met but the impression of a smile on the frozen lips of the dead; and the dying answered those who would console- Never mind: Buda is ours: Hurrah for our Fatherland!" Zo they spoke,-and died. He who witnessed such scenes, not as exceptions but as a constant rule, with thousands of the people's nameless sons; he who saw the boy weep, when told, that he was too young to die for his country: he, who saw the spontaneous sacrifices of our nation; he, who saw what a fury spread over the people, when they heard of

the final catastrophe; he, who marked theh behaviour, towards the victors, when all was lost; he, who knows what sore curses is mixed in the prayers of the Magyar, and what kind of sentiment is burning alike in the breast of the old and of the child, 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 my people with respect, and will acknowledge, with me, that such a people wants not to be inspired, but that it is itself an everlasting source of inspiration. Such are the people of Hungary. And for me, my only glory is, that this people found in myself, the personification of their own sentiments.

746. CAPABILITIES OF HUNGARY AND HER SYMPATHISERS -Kossuth. Some have questioned the capabilities of Hungary, to maintain herself as an independent nation. But she has all the elements of independence. She has four thousand German square miles, and a population of thirteen millions, who are brave and industrious. She has no debt of her own; and she is not liable for the debts of Austria. True, we created a debt, during our recent struggle; but the house of Austria burnt the greater part of it; so, (thanks to them,) we are free from that. Then, Hungary is, in consequence of her municipal institutions, accustomed to cheap government. Municipal government is always cheap; while centralized governments are always dear. Again, she has great resources; she is rich in mines, and could supply the whole world with the purest salt, for ten thousand years. Then, she has large national estates, which might be distributed so as to increase the revenue very materially. The principle of self-government is so strongly implanted in the Hungarians, that nothing can eradicate it.

And let it not be forgotten, that the freedom of Hungary is intimately connected with the question of freedom in Europe, and the principles of self-government: and while you will not interfere in the self-government of foreign nations, you will determine not to allow other countries to interfere. To this extent, I wish to see the people of this country turn their attention to foreign affairs, and exercise their influence to spread the principles of freedom and self-government.Remember, that, with every down-beaten nation, one rampart of liberty falls.

I therefore rely upon your active sympathy most confidingly. I rely upon it, in the name of all who suffer oppression and languish for freedom, like my people and myself. All they are my brethren, whatever tongue they speak, whatever country they call their home. Members of the great family of mankind, the tie of blood is strengthened between us by common sufferings. The nameless woes of my native land, as well as the general reception I enjoy, may, perhaps, entitle me to entreat you, out of the depths of my own desolation; take it for the cry of oppresed humanity, crying out by my stuttering tongue.

Do not forget, ye lovers of liberty, in your own happiness, our sufferings. Remember, in your freedom. those who are oppressed; remember, in your own proud security the indignities we endure. Remember the fickleness of human fate.

that those wounds, with which the nations bleed, are so many wounds inflicted on that principle of liberty, which makes your glory and happiness. Remember that is a tie in mankind's destiny; be thankful for the tear of compassion you shed over our mournful past,-but, have something more than a tear,-have a brother's hand to give to our pressure, and do unto us, as you would have others do to you.



Minister. I have never had but one opinion on this subject, and that is adverse to your great "Movements," as you call them.

Son of Temperance. (With surprise.) Adverse!

M. That is the word I have used.

S. of T. You surprise me. Of all others, I would expect to find, in the Minister of the Gospel, the advocate of Temperance.

M. I am the advocate of Temperance. S. of T. And, yet, you do not approve our action in this cause.

M. I do not.

S. of T. Why so, sir?

M. Your pledge is based upon a simple human resolution. Now, I acknowledge no reforming power, but the grace of God. Build the foundations of your Order upon religious principles, and then I will have confidence therein. But, so long as all depends on the unsustained, unregenerated will of man, there is no safety. Human resolutions may appear very strong for a time; but, so long as they are unsustained by the silver cords of divine truth, and the golden bands of divine love, they may be broken at any moment Your pledges and associations are but external bonds, in danger of being severed at any time, that inward struggling, self-love, selfinterest, appetite, or unsubdued passion regain strength; but, religion is an attraction that draws from the centre of a man's life, and holds all in permanent integrity. Your "moral suasion," depend upon it, is of little value; I believe only in religious "suasion."

S. of T. What do you mean by religious? M. A change of heart, wrought by the grace of God. Such a change is worth a thousand pledges. The new man is freed from the shackles of old appetites and passions; he is washed from his impurities; he has left the fiery streams of sin, and drinks, now, only of the waters of life.

S. of T. But, how is a drunkard to begin to be religious?

Tavern Keeper. I knew several of these men, Parson B., who have been saved by your religious "suasion," as you call it.

M. Well? What of them?

Tav. Keep. Out of six, who joined the Church, four drink at my bar as freely as ever; two keep sober, but one of these is a bigger rascal than he was before. These are facts; and no one should be afraid to look at facts. So much for your pledges, and so much for your religion! I wouldn't give

much for either.

M. Nor would I give much for your hopes of heaven, friend Tavern Keeper. You mustn't be angry with me, for speaking the truth.

Tav. Keep. The truth, as seen from your point of view. Not in the least angry. I am a plain spoken man of the world; I can receive, in turn, a good share of plain speak ing.


S. of T. Let us not, by any thing offensively personal, disturb, on this occasion, the balance of each other's minds. We three, all men of some experience, look upon the great temperance movement, from different points of observation. Each sees what is before him, in a peculiar light, and comes to his conclusions through a different course of reasoning. No harm can, and some good may, arise, from an interchange of ideas.

Tav. Keep. So I think. And, if you, gentlemen, wish to converse on the subject of Temperance, I am willing to give you the benefit of my conclusions on the subject.

M. Suppose, then, friend Tavern Keeper, you give us your views about Temperance.

Tav. Keep. Well; my view, to speak frankly, is, that neither ministers nor temperance men, as a general thing, are doing half the good they might do.

S. of T. Indeed! how so?

Tav. Keep. I do not speak lightly, nor from prejudice, in what say. It was but natural, that, from my relation to this movement, I should, from the beginning, assume an attitude of observation. At first, I was rather alarmed. You attacked the enemy so vigorously, and carried point after point, with such indomitable bravery, that I really began to fear for my own position: and there was a period, when, blinded by self-interest, and angry with the sweeping denunciations hurled at the heads of tavern keepers, I would, had it been in my power, have crushed the very heart out of your salutary reform. That feeling, however, in time, passed away, and was followed by a better state of mind. I was still a careful observer; yet, with my sympathies all on your side.

S. of T. And still continued in the traffic!

Tav. Keep. (Not appearing to notice this remark.) It was not long, however, before I saw, that your system had in it a most fatal error.

S. of T. Ah! And pray what was this error?

Tav. Keep. You took from the clinging vine its old support, yet failed to furnish another of adequate strength.

M. You are right there, friend Tavern Keeper: this I have always said.

S. of T. We procured employment for the reformed inebriate. We organized associations, in which he might act with his fellow man, and find others to lean upon in his weakness; others, who would encourage him to persevere in the good work he had begun. We interested his sympathies in the poor drunkard, and sent him forth into the highways and by-ways, the lanes and the alleys, on missions of mercy.

Tav. Keep. And, for a while, everything went on bravely.

M. But, all was done in the strength of mere human resolutions; and these are, in times of strong temptations, weaker than the bruised reed. No wonder, that so many, who had run well for a season, fainted and failed by the way. There is, depend upon it, no true reliance upon any system that is not based upon religion. The heart must first

be changed. Unless reform begins here, all is hopeless.

Tuv. Keep. So you ministers all say; and, yet, the pledge has made fifty sober men out of drunkards, where your religion, as you call it, has made one I speak knowingly on the subject.

M. It pains me, to hear any one speak so lightly of religion.

Tav. Keep. Don't misunderstand me. I am no scoffer at God and the Bible.

M. And yet you scoff at religion.) Tav. Kecp. Don't misunderstand me in this, either. I have only spoken of the value of what you call religion, in reforming the drunkard. Do not construe my remarks into any thing beyond this.

M. What we call religion?

Tav Keep. Your suddenly wrought conversions, I mean. Your washing the Ethiop's akin white in a moment. In this kind of religion I never had any faith: and this kind of religion, let me tell you, never had, nor ever will have, any salutary efficacy, in saving men from the degradation of drunkenness. M. The Bible is very explicit on this subject. To all men, whether sober or not, it says, " Ye must be born again." Here is the enly chance of salvation from evil.

Tav. Keep. I have never questioned this. But I have always questioned your common interpretation of the Scripture annunciation. The Bible regards our natural birth as the type of spiritual birth, does it not?

M. Certainly.

Tav. Keep. And, yet, your new spiritual man is conceived and born in a moment; coming forth, as it were, in full stature. But, in natural birth, there is brought forth a tender. helpless, ignorant infant, and a growth therefrom, with almost imperceptible slowness; until, at length, we have the man in full stature. If this is the case, naturally, how can we look for a different order of things piritually? I am no Doctor of Divinity; but, depend upon it, my friend, you can have no true spiritual man in any other way.

S. of T. There is, to my mind, force in what you say; and I perceive some glimpses of a new light breaking in upon me. Without doubt, as experience too amply demonstrates, there is some defect in our system; for, though we can draw multitudes over to our side, large numbers soon leave us for the old enticements. It seems too true, that we take from the clinging vine its former supports. and fail to give another, having equal power to lift up to the breezes and sun-shine.

Tav. Keep. In other words, as Temperance reformers, you cut off from a man, who has sought, for years, his pleasure in sensual indulgence. all his old delights; and, ere a new and higher life is developed, you fail to substitute for him those innocent social pleasures, that he may enter into without danger. You make stirring appeals to his reason and manhood, and all that; while, in truth. he is but a child, weak-limbed, and tottering in the right way. You lift him upon his feet, and say to him, "Walk on bravely, confidently, and all will be well;" and, yet, he has, in

himself, no strength. And with the Church it is no better, but rather worse. M. Don't say that.

Tav. Keep. It is true. There, everything I might almost assert, is taken away. The Church excludes all pleasures, as evil in themselves. What ground is there, therefore for the reformed drunkard to stand upon? M. The ground of trust in God.

Tav. Keep. Good ground, I will own, for those who can trust in Him.

M. All may, if they will.

Tav. Keep. But, there lies the great difficulty. This willing to trust in God is easy enough in theory, but how difficult do thousands, and tens of thousands, find it in practice. Many seem, for a time, to trust in God; but the result proves, that it is only seeming, Depend upon it, your Church systems, with here and there an exception, fail to provide for that very class most in need of its saving influence. You require them to come up to you, but never dream of going down to them.

M. You make broad assertions, my friend. Tav. Keep. Yet true, as that the sun shines. The children of this world, as they were eighteen hundred years ago, are still wiser than the children of light. They go down to the level of the ignorant, the sensual, and the debased, and hold them where they are, by ministering to what is in them. But the "children of light," as the religionists of the day esteem themselves, never do this. They offer only mental pleasures and sublime ecstacies, and condemn all sensual pleasures as evil. Instead of coming down to the sensual-minded, with pure sensual pleasures, and, by these, gradually lifting them up, step by step, until, by an almost imperceptible transition, they are able to elevate them into a perception of mental delights, they say to all, in a spirit of self-righteousness, come up to us. But, alas! who of the grovelling crowd are able to go up?

M. What would you have us do?

Tav. Keep. I can say what I think it wise for you to do.

M. Well: what is it?

Tav. Keep. Bring within the pale of the Church all innocent pleasures.

M. What do you call innocent? Tav. Keep. Such as do not violate any of God's commandments.

M. Mention some of them.

Tav. Keep. Dancing, concerts of fine music, exercises in elocution, dramatic representations, and all other modes of enjoyment not evil in themselves.

M. No; never.

S. of T. You are right, friend Tavern Keeper! I see this as I never saw it before. It is too true, that we have failed to provide innocent pleasures, blending the sensual with the intellectual, for those, who, during long years, have debased themselves in things merely corporeal. And this has arisen, mainly, from our desire, as temperance men, to be co-workers with the Churches. We saw, and acknowledged, the power of God in saving men; and numbers of us had faith in

the pledge; only so far as it paved the way for religion, But, afar off, in stately attitudes, stood the Church, with a repulsive, rather than an inviting aspect. It did not come down to help us; but rather rebuked us, for interfering with its exclusive right to save men.

increase the common stock of enjoyment. A few are drones in the hive; spending their days in idleness, and taking from others, without rendering a just return of benefits, And there is yet another class, who are neither producers nor idlers, but parasites, drawing life from the very hearts of the people; who pull down, but never aid in building up, the social fabric. Can you guess the class to which I allude?

Tav. Keep. To do so, would not, by any means, be difficult.

S. of T. It grieves me, friend Tavern


Tav. Keep. Your arch-enemy knows better how to do his work. He understands the power of dramatic spectacles, of music and pictures, of all things that appeal to the senses; and he is daily gathering in his harvest, of those whom the Church neglects to save. Under his particular patronage is the theatre, which you might make so all-power-Keeper, to adjudge you as belonging to this ful for good; and, everywhere, he is seizing upon things innocent, yet despised and neglected by the Church, and making them engines of destruction. But, good morning! I have said a great deal more than I expected to say, at first. Pardon my free speaking; and do not be so unwise as to reject what is untrue, even though it be uttered by a Tavern Keeper. Good morning, gentlemen.

S. of T. Just one word, if you please.
Tav. Keep. Well; speak freely.

S. of T. I must also venture upon a plain word or two, before we part. I acknowledge myself your debtor, for useful hints; perhaps I may be of equal service to you.

Tav. Keep. Say on: I am always willing to learn.

S. of T. You seem to have thought a good deal on the subject of temperance. Has it never occurred to you, that, as a vender of liquor, you were doing harm in the community!

Tav. Keep. O yes; often. But, then, I have argued, that my giving up the sale of ardent spirits, wouldn't lessen their consump tion. Some one else would take my stand, and sell on, just the same as before. And, why, I have asked myself, should I not have the benefit, as well as another.

S. of T. Might not a thief, or robber, use the same argument?

Tav. Keep. Not always; for, if he failed to rob, or steal, in a certain case, his intended victim would, in all probability, go free of harm.

S. of T. Perhaps so. Still, I do not understand how any one, as intelligent and observant as you are, can reconcile it to his instinctive sense of right, to make gain of that which destroys his brother, body and soul.

Tav. Keep. I doubt, if many who sell liquor, permit that instinctive sense of right, which you refer, to come into play. S. of T. How can they help it? Tav. Keep. The selfish love of gain rules over most of our impulses.

S. of T. Most true. But, are we just to ourselves, to say nothing of society, thus to permit self-love to overrule these better impulses?

Tav. Keep. I will not say that we are. M. Society is held in its integrity, by the bond of mutual benefits. The farmer, the mechanic, the manufacturer, the artist, are all engaged in promoting the public good. Each works for, and provides, food raiment, or other things needful to sustain life, and

Tav. Keep. I will not gainsay your judg ment now. To-morrow it will be different. S. of T. Do I hear aright? Will you, indeed, give up this evil traffic?

Tav. Keep. Such is my purpose. For some time, my mind has been approaching this decision. It has been confirmed by our present conversation.

S. of T. You will come over on our side, and help us?

Tav. Keep. I will abandon the sale of liquor. Thus much I owe to society, as a good citizen. Beyond that, I can now pledge myself to nothing. As already said, I do not think either your rule of action, or that of the Church, the surest and best that can be adopted. You do not come down low enough, stooping under the poor debased drunkard, like the mother-bird to her fledgings. You do not wisely regard what is in man. You do not come to his senses with enticements, and thus give him the good, opposite to the evil that has been removed. But have spoken of this already. Good morning!

S. of T. May God confirm you in your good resolutions.

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THE DEBATERS.-J. G., F. M., R. P., R. G., B. G

F. A., R. V., W. M., R. T., W. S., H. H., F. W.

R. A. Gentlemen, I am happy to see you. Agreeably to the notice of your late worthy chairman, you have assembled to discuss the propriety of calling Cæsar a Great Man. I promise myself much satisfaction from your debate. I promise myself the pleasure of hearing many ingenious arguments on each side of the question, and the gratification of witnessing a contest, maintained with animation, good humor, and courtesy. You are my sureties, and I shall not be disappointed.

The avocations of your late chairman have not allowed him to resume his seat-a seat honorable in itself, but more honorable from

the dignity with which he filled it. I have been appointed to succeed him.

My first duty is, to bear testimony to the accomplishments of my predecessor; to his eloquence, his disinterestedness, and his address. My next duty regards myself; and calls upon me to declare my sense of the honor I enjoy, in having been appointed to this station. My last duty-and one that I discharge with great diffidence-is, to present you with a few observations that have reference to the occasion of your being assembled.

You are assembled, gentlemen, to discuss the merits of a man, whose actions are connected with some of the most interesting events in Roman story. You have given the subject due consideration. You come prepared for the contest; and I shall not presume to offer any opinion, respecting the ground which either side ought to take. My remarks shall be confined to the study of Oratory; and, allow me to say, I consider Oratory to be the second end of our academic labors, of which the first end is, to render us enlightened, useful, and virtuous.

The principal means of communicating our ideas are two-speech and writing. The former is the parent of the latter; it is the more important, and its highest efforts are called Oratory.

If we consider the very early period at which we begin to exercise the faculty of speech, and the frequency with which we exercise it, it must be a subject of surprise, that so few excel in Oratory. In any enlightened community, you will find numbers who are highly skilled in some particular art or science, to the study of which they did not apply themselves, till they had almost arrived at the stage of manhood. Yet, with regard to the powers of speech-those powers which the very second year of our existence generally calls into action, the exercise of which goes on at our sports, our studies, our walks, our very meals; and which is never long suspended, except at the hour of refreshing sleep; with regard to those powers, how few surpass their fellow-creatures of common information and moderate attainments! how very few deserve distinction! how rarely does one attain to eminence!

dozen men-men of education. erudition-ask them to read a piece of animated composition; you will be fortunate if you find one in the dozen, that can raise, or depress, his voiceinflect or modulate it, as the variety of the subject requires. What has become of the inflections, the cadences, and the modulation, of the infant? They have not been exercised; they have been neglected; they have never been put into the hands of the artist, that be might apply them to their proper use; they have been laid aside, spoiled, abused; and, ten to one, they will never be good for any thing! Oratory is highly useful to him that excels in it. In common conversation, observe the advantage which the fluent speaker enjoys over the man that hesitates, and stumbles in discourse. With half his information, he has twice his importance; he commands the respect of his auditors; he instructs and gratifies them. In the general transactions of business, the same superiority attends him. He communicates his views with clearness, precision, and effect; he carries his point by his mere readiness; he concludes his treaty, before another kind of man would have well set about it. Does he plead the cause of friendship? how happy is his friend! Of charity? how fortunate is the distressed? Should he enter the Senate of his country, he gives strength to the party which he espouses; should he be independent of party, he is a party in himself. If he advocates the cause of liberty, he deserves to be the people's champion; if he defends their rights, be approves himself the people's bulwark!

That you will persevere in the pursuit of so useful a study, as that of Oratory, I confidently hope. That your progress has been, hitherto, considerable, I am about to receive a proof.

Gentlemen, the question for debate, is-WAS CESAR A GREAT MAN?

J. G. Sir, to bespeak your indulgence, is a duty, imposed, no less, by a knowledge of your desert, than by a consciousness of my deficiency. I am unpractised in the orator's art; nor can I boast that native energy of talent, which asks not the tempering of experience; but, by its single force, effects what seems the proper achievement of labors, and of years. Let me, then, hope, that you will excel in favor, as much as I shall fall short in merit. Let me presume, that the performance of what I undertake with diffi dence, will be regarded by you with allowance. Let me anticipate, that failure will not be imputed as a crime, to him, who dares not hope success.

The causes are various; but we must not attempt, here, to investigate them. I shall simply state, that one cause of our not generally excelling in Oratory, is, our neglecting to cultivate the art of speaking-of speaking our own language. We acquire the power of expressing our ideas, almost insensibly; we consider it as a thing that is Was Cæsar a great man?" What revo natural to us; we do not regard it as an art:lution has taken place in the first appointed it is an art-a difficult art-an intricate art- government of the universe; what new and and our ignorance of that circumstance, or our opposite principle has begun to direct the omitting to give it due consideration, is the operations of nature; what refutation of their cause of our deficiency. long established precepts, has deprived Reason of her sceptre, and Virtue of her throne, that a character, which forms the noblest theme that ever Merit gave to Fame, should now become a question for debate?

In the infant, just beginning to articulate, you will observe every inflection that is recognized in the most accurate treatise on elocution; you will observe, further, an exact proportion in its several cadences, and a speaking expression in its tones. Select a

No painter of human excellence, if he would draw the features of that hero's

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