passed out of the body of the possessed, and coming into mine, assaulted me and cast me down, shook me, and traversed me to and fro, for several hours. I cannot tell you what passed within me during that time, and how that spirit united itself with mine, leaving no liberty either of sensation or of thought, but acting in me like another self, or as if I possessed two souls; these two souls making, as it were, a battle-ground of my body. When I sought, at the instigation of the one, to make the sign of the cross on my mouth, the other suddenly would turn round my hand and seize the fingers with my teeth, making me bite myself with rage. When I sought to speak, the word would be taken out of my mouth; at mass I would be stopped short; at table I could not carry the food to my mouth; at confession I forgot my sins; in fine, I felt the devil go and come within me as if he used me for his daily dwelling-house." (Calmeil, vol. ii. p. 61.) Or if, instead of passing into a single operator, as in the case of Surin, the diseased contagion should suddenly expand itself among a crowd of bystanders, there would be nothing to wonder at, although enough to deplore, in such a catastrophe. It would be no more than has already happened in all the epidemics of lycanthropy and witch-mania, of the dancers of St. Vitus, of the Jumpers, Quakers, and Revivalists, of the Mewers, Barkers, and Convulsionnaires. The absence of religious pretensions among the operators seems as yet to be the chief guarantee against such results. If, instead of being made rigid and lucid by the manipulations of a professor, the patients should find themselves cast into that state by contact with the tomb of a preacher, or with the reliques of a saint, society would soon be revisited with all the evils of pseudo-miracles and supposed demoniacal possessions. The comparatively i | innocent frenzy of the followers of Father Mathew was the nearest approach to a social disturbance of that kind that our country has been visited by since the barking epidemic of the fourteenth century. "In the county of Leicester, a person travelling along the road," says Camden, (Brit. vol. ii. p. 636,) "found a pair of gloves, fit for his hands, as he thought; but when he put them on, he lost his speech immediately, and could do nothing but bark like a dog; nay, from that moment, the men and women, old and young, throughout the whole country, barked like dogs, and the children like whelps. This plague continued, with some eighteen days, with others a month, and with some for two years; and, like a contagious distemper, at last infected the neighboring counties, and set them a barking too." If mesmerism did no more than demonstrate, as it has done, that all the supposed evidences of modern inspiration, as well as of modern demoniacal possession and ghostcraft, are but the manifestations of a physical disorder, capable of being induced by ordinary agencies, it would have done a great service to the cause of social and religious stability. In addition to this, it has furnished surgery with a new narcotic, perhaps with a new antispasmodic. It is not impossible that here, at length, a means may have been found for combating the horrors of hydrophobia. Its higher pretensions of clairvoyance and prevision, if not proved, are at least not yet satisfactorily disproved. Its admitted usefuldess may, perhaps, counterbalance its perils; but in every exercise of it, whether curative or speculative, it is never to be forgotten, that the phenomena are those of disease, and that the production of disease, save for the counteraction of other maladies more hurtful, is in itself an evil. The two Universities of Edinburgh-the Old and the New-opened the present year under favorable auspices. Upwards of 700 students assembled to hear the introductory lecture of Principal Lee, of the Old University. Two of the Professors are unable to continue their prelections on account of ill health-Prof. Low, of the agricultural, and Prof. Wilson, of the moral philosophy class. Professor Wilson, we regret to hear, has had an attack of paralysis. His illness is not very serious, but repose is recommended. Dr. Lee, in speaking of the age of entering the University, remarked, that many of the most eminent men he had known went to college very early: Lord Brougham went to college at the age of twelve, Sir David Brewster and Dr. Chalmers at eleven, and Lord Campbell at eleven. Archbishop Usher, Bishop Cowper, of Galloway, and Jeremy Taylor, also entered college unusually early. Among the lecturers announced for the New College are some distinguished names, and the institution seems to be conducted in a higher tone than is usual in similar places of popular instruction and amusement. Hugh Miller, the geologist, and Isaac Taylor, author of the "Natural History of Enthusiasm," are to deliver courses of lectures. From the Athenæum. ELOQUENCE OF KOSSUTH.* M. KOSSUTH has told the public that on approaching the shores of England-the land of his dreams and of his hopes-he could scarcely overcome a certain sentiment of awe. As is ever the case with great material objects-ships in motion or Alpine ridges-so, vivid conceptions frequently owe much of their poetic charm to the mellowing effect of distance; and as the green slopes of the south coast of our land rose on the Exile's view, he trembled lest the glory with which his mind had so long crowned the Figure of England should dissolve before a stern and prosaic reality. Some such feeling, we believe, existed in many minds on shore, with respect to the illustrious Exile himself. While in the zenith of his power, the leader of a mighty and for a time successful national movement in Hungary, stories reached us of the oratorical genius of Kossuth-of his power over the masses-of his faculty for inspiring personal attachmentswhich to our colder temperaments raised a suspicion that they must be over-colored. Common fame represented him as a sort of magician, who by a word could persuade men to exchange their silver coin for bits of paper containing no better security than his own promise to pay when he should be able -who by his conjuration could raise up army after army of Magyars and launch them against the Imperial house of Hapsburg. In England we had few means of conceiving the idea of such a man. In our own great revolution oratory played but an inferior part. The swords of Cromwell, Blake, and Fairfax, the passions and convictions of the people, were the executive and motive powers. France had its Mirabeau and its Robespierre; but the most stirring words of those popular tribunes did notlike the dragon teeth of Greek fable and the rumored spells of Kossuth-spring up armed men. Doubts occurred to many if this imputed gift were not one of those exaggerations common to the East. The whole character of the man, as it was drawn for us by such Magyars, Poles, and English as had seen or learned about him in his own country, was touched with what seemed to persons looking on soberly from a distance the contrasted lights and shades of an artistic fancy. Personal beauty, modesty of deportment, refined and gentle manners, romantic generosity, a presence to command respect and inspire devotion, varied knowledge of the world, the highest order of physical and moral courage, and a mind equal to emergencies, ready to act at any moment, and of almost infinite resources,such were the materials of that sketch of Kossuth which was commonly given by those who shared his general views and spoke of him on personal knowledge. To meet the expectations so raised would be a severe trial to any man; trebly so when their object was a foreigner, an exile, without wealth, aristocratic connections, power, or the prestige of victory. Many, therefore, who had been stirred by the Hungarian struggle, and whose hearts had warmed towards the Hungarian hero, believed that the moment he set foot on English ground the spell of his great name would be broken. This man has now been among us for a month. He has been seen by millions and heard by thousands. He has addressed influential meetings in Southampton, Winchester, London, Manchester, and Birmingham. He has stood the test of criticism in many * Kossuth in England. Authentic Life of His shapes-and from the moment of his landExcellency Louis Kossuth, Governor of Hungary.ing at Southampton to his embarkation at With a full Report of his Speeches delivered in England; to which is added, his Address to the People of the United States of America. Bradbury & Evans. Kossuth: his Speeches in England, with a brief Sketch of his Life. Gilpin. Cowes for the United States, his stay has been one prolonged representation. Has his presence in England vulgarized the romantic image already familiar to the public through the vivid portraiture of his friends? His re ception by the people-the enthusiasm cre-, prison companion! To this circumstance, ated by his speeches, an enthusiasm spreading and deepening to the end of his sojourn is the answer; and of these speeches we hope to have yet a more perfect record than either of those which now lie before us. Into the discussion of any of those questions which form the subject-matter of these speeches the readers of the Athenæum well know that it is beyond our mission to enter; but, without being prepared to endorse the assertion of Mr. Walter Savage Landor, that "since the days of Demosthenes no equal or similar eloquence has ever been heard on earth," we feel that this great Hungarian monologue has been sufficiently remarkable to bring the actor legitimately before us in the literary point of view. Of the minor merits of this remarkable man, his command of the English language is perhaps that which creates the largest amount of wonder. With the exception of an occasional want of idiom, the use of a few words in an obsolete sense, and a habit of sometimes carrying (German fashion) the infinitive verb to the end of a sentence, there is little to distinguish M. Kossuth's English from that of our great masters of eloquence. Select, yet copious and picturesque it is always. The combinations-we speak of his words as distinct from the thoughts that lie in them are often very happy. We can even go so far as to say that he has enriched and utilized our language:-the first by using unusual words with extreme felicity, the latter by proving to the world how well the pregnant and flexible tongue of Shakspeare adapts itself to the expression of a genius and a race so remote from the Saxon as the Magyar. Most of our readers know the story told by Kossuth himself of his first introduction to our language and literature. The story runs that when, fourteen years ago, he was thrown into an Austrian dungeon for daring to publish the debates in the Hungarian Parliament, he was kept for some time in solitary confinement without books or papers, but that afterwards, in consequence of the representations of the Diet, his gaolers allowed him to have a few books, on condition of his not asking for works on politics. He chose a copy of Shakspeare and an English dictionary. Out of the great dramatist he learned our speech, our modes of thinking, our national sentiments. Certain it is, that his extraordinary mastery over our tongue has proved power to the Exile and to his cause. It was a sad blunder of the Austrian police to give him Shakspeare for a however, we owe it that we are now able to understand, in a vague and reflex way perhaps, but still with no little vividness and life, what must have been the charm and power of the great Magyar's eloquence when it was appealing in a national cause, in its native idiom, and under circumstances of great excitement, to minds kindled at the same source and hearts beating with the same blood as his own. This interesting story, too, gives peculiar appropriateness to a proposition that has emanated from Mr. Douglas Jerrold, looking on the Magyar chief in his character of a literary man,-that a subscription from Englishmen of all parties shall produce a testimonial taking the form of a fine copy of Shakspeare, inclosed in a shrine of whatever cost the surplus amount of subscriptions may justify. The thought is in no degree political, but founds a literary memorial on a highly interesting literary fact. We have heard M. Kossuth, and we have carefully read the reports of his speeches. His style is new and personal. Compared with the men, whose speeches have been received as the best specimens of oratory in recent times-such as Brougham, Lacordaire, Blum, Thiers, Gavazzi, and O'ConnellKossuth is calm and grave. He has no sophisms, no verbal dexterities. All is with him clear, sequent, logical. He never mouths his passion-never wrings his hands or stamps his feet-never gesticulates his violence, or resorts to the common tricks of the orator to impress his audience with an idea of his earnestness. As a rhetorical weapon he uses scorn very rarely, and we have not read a sneering sentence from his lips. He neither mocks his enemy like Gavazzi, nor insults him like O'Connell. His appeal is made directly to the intellect of his hearer. He seems more anxious to convince than to excite. Warmth of fancy and of feeling he undoubtedly possesses, and his passion sometimes breaks into sudden explosion. But in these qualities he has had many equals-Chatham, Mirabeau, Patrick Henry, and others of all nations. What seems more particularly Kossuthian-that is, personal-in his eloquence is, its moral undertone. Master of his subject, he speaks to other nations with the energy, but also with much of the gravity of history. He flatters no prejudice-appeals to no passion-yet, his discourse adapts itself with singular art to its immediate audiene. Perhaps next to his excellent English the thing which is most curious about "M Kossuth in England" is, the extraordinary genius which he has for saying the right thing in the right place. Of the speeches now reported, not one could change its locality without manifest disadvantage. The City speech was precisely adapted to the City, the Manchester speech would not have done at Winchester,-nor that delivered at Southampton at Copenhagen Fields. Not that the views and opinions are in any respect contradictory; but in each there is a special tone, a particular line of argument, exactly calculated to suit the audience before him. If M. Kossuth had lived in England all his days, we do not see how he could have displayed a nicer knowledge of our local peculiarities, pursuits, and character than he now does. As samples of oratorical art these remarkable speeches constitute a study. How frank and simple-how shaped to disarm hostility and inspire confidence-were the first few words uttered by the Exile in England!— "I beg you will excuse my bad English. Seven weeks back I was a prisoner in Kutayah, in Asia Minor. Now I am a free man. I am a free man because glorious England chose it. That England chose it which the genius of mankind selected for the resting monument of its greatness, and the spirit of freedom for his happy home. Cheered by your sympathy, which is the anchor of hope to oppressed humanity, with the view of your freedom, your greatness, and your happiness, and with the consciousness of my unhappy land in my breast, you must excuse me for the emotion I feel, the natural consequence of so striking a change and so different circumstances. So, excuse me for not being able to thank you so warmly as I feel for the generous reception in which you honor in my undeserving person the cause of my country. I only hope God Almighty may for ever bless you and your glorious land. Let me hope you will be willing to throw a ray of hope and consolation on my native land, by this your generous reception. May England be ever great, glorious, and free; but let me hope, by the blessing of Almighty God, and by our own steady perseverance, and by your own generous aid, that England, though she may ever remain the most glorious spot on earth, will not remain for ever the only one where freedom dwells." These lines contain the germs of nearly all that M. Kossuth afterwards developed in his several speeches.-What, again, could be happier than his illustration of the common phrase "social order" given at the Guildhall? He said: "A principle which I meet here in this place is a principle of social order. Many people, when they hear this word 'social order,' get almost nervous and excited. There are many that misuse this sacred word as a blasphemy. They call social order absolutism; they call social order when humanity is put into a prison; they call social order the silence of the grave. This 30th of October has presented to the world a spectacle which, once seen, I proudly proclaim that no Czars and Emperors of Austria have the right or can have the pretension to speak more of social order. Here is social order in London; and by whom watched? I had my thousands and thousands of the people rushing forward, not with the effusion of blood, but with the warm enthusiasm of noble hearts, to cheer liberty and the principle of freedom in my poor humble self. And what is the safeguard of social order in this meeting of the people? I asked the attention of Lord Dudley Stuart: Let us look how many policemen are present. I have seen four.' Such a scene, my Lord, for the Czars and Emperors, and all men ambitious, who may be called Presidents, for they are all the same thing, no matter how called! They would have had their 20,000 bayonets, and I do not know how many open and secret spies: they would have safeguarded by arms and cannon-what? Social order? No. Against whom? Against foes and enemies of social order? No; against their own people." How well the orator chose his moment at Manchester to dispose of the assertion that were it not for himself and two or three other persons the European world would be peaceable and content with its present condition! He had been speaking of the imminency of the next great struggle between liberty and brute force,-between the citizen and the soldier,-when he suddenly turned the flank of his opponents as follows:- "The dragon of oppression draws near, but the St. George of liberty is ready to wrestle with him. How can I state that this struggle is so near? Why, I state it because IT IS. Every man knows it; every man feels it; every man sees it. A philosopher was once questioned how he could prove the existence of God? Why,' answered he, by opening my eyes.' God is seen everywhere. In the growth of the grass, and in the movements of the stars; in the warbling of the lark, and in the thunder of the heavens. Even so 6 I prove that the decisive struggle of mankind's destinies draws near: I appeal to the sight of your eyes, to the pulsations of your hearts, and to the judgment of your minds. You know it, you see it, you feel it, that the judgment is drawing near. How blind are those men who have the affectation to believe, or at least to assert, that it is only certain men who push the revolution on the continent of Europe, which, but for their revolutionary plots, would be quiet and content. Content! With what? With oppression and servitude? France content with its constitution turned into a pasquinade! Germany content at being but a flock of sheep pent up to be shorn by some thirty petty tyrants! Switzerland content with the threatening ambition of encroaching des- in England, that delivered at Birmingham pots! Italy content with the King of Naples, or was the most characteristic and impressive. with the priestly Government of Rome-the worst In the main calm and logical, full of facts, of human invention! Austria, Bohemia, Croatia, and varied with figures,-it nevertheless conDalmatia, content with having been driven to butchery after having been deceived, oppressed, tains some of the finest pathos and most eloand laughed at as fools! Poland content with quent passion in language. The best harbeing murdered! Hungary, my poor Hungary, angues of Sheridan look cold by the side of content with being more than murdered-buried the great Magyar's thrilling words. The alive. Because it is alive! ** Russia content exordium is perhaps not unworthy to rank with slavery! Vienna, Flensburg, Pesth, Lom- with that of any of the masterpieces of elobardy, Milan, Venice, content with having been bombarded, burnt, sacked, and their population quence-with the oration against Æschines butchered! And half of Europe content with and the First against Catiline. Thus dashed the scaffold, the hangman, the prison; with hav- the great Hungarian, like a charge of his ing no political rights at all, but having to pay in-country's magnificent horse, at the Austrinumerable millions for the high, beneficial purpose of being kept in serfdom? That is the condition of the continent of Europe,-and is it not ridiculous to see and hear men prate about individuals disturbing the contented tranquillity of Europe?" Nor was the question supposed by M. Kossuth to be now at issue on the European continent less clearly and strikingly placed before the same audience. The decision of this question, he had told them, is of interest for every people, as it may affect the fate of mankind for generations to come; and the warning with which the passage closes had a solemn and almost Cassandrian dignity of tone: "No country," he said, “no nation, however proud its position, none within the boundaries of the Christian family and of European civilization, can avoid a share of the consequences of this comprehensive question, which will be the proximate fate of humanity. I scarcely need to say that this comprehensive question is whether Europe should be ruled by the principle of freedom or by the principle of despotism. To bring more home in a practical way to your generous hearts that idea of freedom, the question is whether Europe shall be ruled by the principle of of centralization or by the principle of self-government. Because self-government is freedom, and centralization is absolutism. What! shall freedom die away for centuries, and mankind become nothing more than a blind instrument for the ambition of a few; or shall the brand of servitude be wiped away from the brow of humanity? Woe, a thousandfold woe, to every nation which, confident in its proud position of to-day, shall carelessly regard the all-comprehensive struggle for these great principles. It is the mythical struggle between heaven and hell. To be blessed or to be damned is the lot of all; there is no transition between heaven and hell. Woe, a thousandfold woe, to every nation which will not embrace within its sorrows and its cares the future, but only the passing moment of the present time. As the sun looms through the mist before it rises, so the future is seen in the events of the present day." Of all the speeches made by M. Kossuth ans: which had chiefly me to thank for not having "Three years ago, yonder house of Austria— been swept away by the revolution of Vienna in March, 1848-having in return answered by the most foul, most sacrilegious conspiracy against the chartered rights, freedom, and national existsnce 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 fatherdreadful, could be but a faint shadow of the horland. Having made the sketch, which, however rible reality, I proceeded to explain the alternative which our terrible destiny left to us, after the failure of all our attempts to avert the evil,--to present the neck of the realm to the deadly stroke aimed at its very life, or to bear up against the horrors of fate, and manfully to fight the battle of legitimate defence. Scarcely had I spoken the words,-scarcely had I added that the defence would require 200.000 men and 80,000,000 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!' Thus they spoke, and there they stood, 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 sentiment, 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 majority of my people,--as I bow now before you, gentlemen,-I left the tribunal silently, speechless, mute." Here the orator paused for a moment,and then added: "Pardon me my emotion,-the shadows of our martyrs pass before my eyes; I hear the millions of my native land once more shouting, 'Liberty or death!" We remember reading an account of the scene in the Hungarian Parliament to which this impressive reference is made. Kossuth's |