duty; for England and Holland had been mediators of the Peace between Austria and Hungary in 1710-12, which Austria had now perfidiously broken. Kossuth, as Governor of Hungary, called upon England in November 1848 to resume our position as mediators. Had we done so, we might have shamed Austria into more decent behaviour, and prevented a calamitous war; or, at any rate, the moment we acknowledged her belligerence, the United States and Turkey would have done the same; Hungary would have been able to buy arms of Turkey (the only thing that she wanted); Görgey would never have been a traitor; and the Russian armies would have been defeated as ignominiously as those of Austria. Or rather, if Görgey had pursued the beaten Austrians, as Kossuth bade him, Austria would have been forced to make peace in Vienna before the Russians could enter Galicia. But Lord John Russell (then Prime Minister) was frightened, it must be believed; and Lord Palmerston had an axiom that 'a strong Austria was a European necessity; which he so interpreted as if to make Austria's tenure of Hungary depend on Russian arms would keep up Austria as a bulwark against Russia. He therefore refused to receive Kossuth's envoy, giving as reply that he had no knowledge of Hungary but as a province of the Austrian Empire.' Lord Palmerston was not ignorant of history. Any one who asked for the Corpus Juris Hungarici (two volumes only), in the British Museum, might see that Leopold II., on succeeding his brother Joseph II. as Emperor of Germany and King of Hungary, rescinded all Joseph's lawless proceedings, and solemnly acknowledged that Hungary is a separate kingdom, not subject (non obnoxium) to any legislation but her own. He might see also that every king of Hungary, on his coronation, entered

Resentment sank deep into all England when two Emperors could thus conspire against the only remaining constitution on the Continent which was coeval with our own. The freedom and laws of Castile, Arragon, and Valencia, of Sicily and Naples, of various Italian cities, of Bohemia, and of Austria itself, had been suppressed by the perfidious usurpations of the Austrian ruling house; and now Russia, with unapproachable deserts of frost as her rearguard, was beginning the same career with far vaster resources. At her bidding the constitution of Spain was overthrown. All Italy was kept under local tyrants, because it pleased Austria to sustain them. Austria herself in turn, when her misrule and violence were all but brought to a natural end by the high-spirited nation whom she had cursed for three centuries, found a protector in the Czar. Nothing was too distant to escape him. 'His armies were ready to march into Italy, if necessary: that is to say, he was a universal and deadly enemy of European freedom. The perfidy by which he kept Finland, the plausible pretences of a constitution by which he beguiled the Polish nobility of Warsaw in 1815 (a constitution which he tore up in 1817), the ferocity with which he punished the Polish nobles in 1831, sending them to labour in the Ural mines as slaves, for daring to take arms against the lawless tyranny of his brother Constantine, warned everyone that, unless resisted, he would leave no freedom on the European continent; and in that

case, if England were isolated, we had little chance for our Own liberties.

In consequence, when Kossuth came to England in the autumn of 1851, all England stood up to honour him, except the statesmen and the peerage. At Southampton, where he landed, he had a cordial greeting; but pre-eminent was the zeal of the metropolis itself. The rich men of the City of London, for the first time in the memory of men alive, stood foremost in a popular cause, and received him at a splendid banquet; and the zeal of the lower people fully equalled that of the wealthiest merchants and traders. At Charing Cross he received an ovation which would have been honourable to the Queen. Manchester, Birmingham, Edinburgh, rich and poor, vied in welcoming him. One hundred and thirtyseven municipalities (if I may trust memory) passed votes of sympathy and solicited a visit from him. Nothing but the pressure of time (for he was hurrying to America) hindered his making royal progress from end to end of Great Britain. In vain did hostile newspapers retail spiteful personalities against him. However much the people might respect Kossuth the man, yet their display of sympathy was intended to honour the cause of Hungaryto express their detestation of Austrian perfidy, and their indignation at the interference of Russia to overthrow national law.

Russell wished well to the constitu

tional cause; but they resolved to act in harmony with the President Louis Napoleon, and therefore their action did but betray the Sicilian patriots. In Naples they wished well, yet they acted for Austria. But our nation was for freedom. Until this schism shall be healed, England must seem to foreignersand probably must be in facttreacherous to every cause which she espouses. If it be a dynastic cause, the nation will not make sacrifices for such an object; if it be the cause of foreign freedom, our Ministers, whatever their personal wishes, do not choose to offend dynastic influences and the desires of the Court.

Scarcely had Kossuth quitted the shores of England, when Europe was horrified by Louis Napoleon's perjurious usurpation. Attention was for a while drawn off from Russia: it was believed that Napoleon would seek glory and popularity by an invasion of England. The Parliament itself was in panic: Joseph Hume implored members to say nothing that might irritate Napoleon personally. Our defences (as usual) were declared to be insufficient, and six hundred thousand pounds were unanimously voted to build a fleet of screw steamers of war against French invasion. They were the first we ever built, and they answered beyond hope. That very fleet, built against France, sailed in alliance with the French fleet to block up Russia in the Baltic.

On May 14, 1851, Kossuth spoke his last speech in Boston, which was an elaborate exposition of the state of Europe. In it, he said, 'Since the fall of Hungary, Russia is the real sovereign of all Germany. For the first time Germany has a foreign master. And do you believe that Germany will bear that in the nineteenth century which it never yet has borne ?-bear that in fulness of

know better than you how to defend you. It is our part to preserve the peace of Europe. Trust to us: let the Russians march in, and we will engage that you shall not suffer.'

But what did the phrase mean, 'We must not have a European war'? It meant two things: (1) 'We must cleverly manage to make the Turks yield peaceably, not perhaps all that Russia asks, but enough to satisfy Russia-for this time. (2) We must not drive Turkey to despair by refusing to support her, lest Hungary join Turkey, and Austria be overthrown.' Kossuth may have forgotten that what he spoke in Boston would be heard in London, but in due time he was made disagreeably aware that his close relations with the Sultan's Cabinet were no secret to the English Ministry. Lord Clarendon, in the 'Secret Correspondence,' gave as one reason to the Emperor Nicolas why her Majesty's Government deprecated warlike operations in the East, that there were great European Powers which had recently suffered internal agitation, and could not stand under its renewal. In other words, he knew that Austria would enter the war as an ally of Russia (the Czar had plainly said to Sir Hamilton Seymour, You need not ask what Austria thinks about it: whatever I wish Austria wishes'); he knew also that if Austria entered the war, Hungary would infallibly become the ally of Turkey. To prevent this was the first object of Lords Aberdeen and Clarendon. They desired, no doubt, to save Turkey, but so to save her as not to allow Austria to fall by her own ambition. This superfluous patronage of Austria involved Lord Aberdeen in virtual treachery to Turkey, and finally drifted him into the war against his will.

But the English public was not in sympathy with the Ministry, nor was the Turkish public to be managed by the French and English

Ambassadors. After the ignominious termination of the discussion upon what was called 'the Vienna note,' when the Russian Minister closed by avowing that the Turkish interpretation of it was correct, and that the French and English Ministers (who, forsooth, meant to please Russia and keep the peace) were decidedly wrong, the Turks saw too plainly that their Western allies were cheating them. In consequence popular feeling pressed on the Sultan so vehemently that he had no choice but to accept the war. Russia had for nearly three months been in hostile occupation of Turkish ground when the Sultan declared war. It was remarked that the Czar had intended to act with the utmost caution. He had sounded England eight years before, and deposited the sacred document in London. He had held secret conference with Sir Hamilton Seymour, and received high compliments from Lord John Russell, and much cordiality from Lord Clarendon (who succeeded him as Foreign Secretary), without any sign of moral abhorrence, or anything to indicate that the execution of his purpose so frankly revealed might call us into active hostility. When the French Emperor discerned the Russian designs, and ordered his fleet to the East, Lord Clarendon solemnly protested, and compelled him to recall it.

For this deed Nesselrode paid a warm compliment to the English Government, fully believing that it was playing into the Czar's hand, since it had been so plainly warned of the Russian purposes. When France was found backing up the English interpretation of the Vienna note,' it seemed that we had won over France also to our pacific counsels; that is to say, into the policy of schooling Turkey to yield without war. Of Austria the Czar was sure, and of Prussia he had no fears. He had sounded all the Cabinets, and knew them to the

bottom. But two things escaped him--what the Turkish people and what the English people were thinking and this turned his caution into folly; for the war that followed is the only war since the overthrow of Napoleon which was emphatically a people's war in England. It is marvellous how any persons can be so blind as to fancy that we were entangled in it by the craft of Napoleon.

6

The two Western Powers, on learning that the Sultan had declared war under pressure of his people, were highly displeased. M. Drouyn de Lhuys wrote a despatch, which Lord Clarendon countersigned, to the Admirals of the Western fleets (which had sailed into Turkish waters ostensibly for the defence of of Constantinople against the Russian fleet), to explain more definitely to them for what purpose they were sent. The words ran thus: The fleets are sent not to fight against the Emperor of Russia, but to deliver the Sultan from religious enthusiasm and fatal auxiliaries.' Religious enthusiasm that is to say, the patriotism of the Ottoman nation resenting Russian invasion; fatal auxiliaries-that is to say, from the Hungarian nation, which andoubtedly was ready to fight by the side of Turkey against Austria. The Turks certainly despaired of English and French aid, as only betraying their cause; for the Seraskier sent to Kossuth in London, bidding him to come to Constantinople and sign the treaty of alliance, offensive and defensive, between Turkey and Hungary. But the English Ambassador was too well served by his spies to be ignorant of this. He demanded a private interview of the Sultan, and extorted from him (without the knowledge of his Ministry) a private promise that if Kossuth came to Constantinople, he would imprison him. Such is the mode in which an English ambassador teaches con

stitutional government to a foreign potentate. In a despatch a little later Lord Clarendon says that the Turks must not be allowed in their own self-defence to involve 'Europe' in war. Nevertheless the Western Ambassadors brought the catastrophe on themselves swiftly. They would not permit the Turks to send war ships with their transports along the Black Sea; and Lord Palmerston soon afterwards in his place in Parliament explained why. Anger against Russia, it seems, made him speak truth indiscreetly. We had accepted from the Czar a secret promise (when, and through whom, was not stated) that he would confine his war to the Principalities; and it seems we were simple enough to suppose that he would therefore allow the Turks to carry supplies of war along their coasts. Apparently the Russians interpreted their promise to be contingent on the Turks abstaining from every warlike operation in the Black Sea. Be this as it may, the Turkish transports went out without sufficient escort, and were frightfully destroyed by the Russians in the battle of Sinope. Only a week or so earlier our Ambassador had introduced to the Sultan in public divan the Admiral and chief officers of the fleet, as sent by the Queen of England to defend him from unjust aggression.' Naturally after the battle (if battle it should be called, and not rather massacre) the Sultan called on the Admirals of the Western Powers to defend him; but to their utter shame and ignominy, they had to confess that they had received orders not to fight against the Emperor of Russia!

Thus it was that the Aberdeen Government entangled itself in war by its own double-mindedness and folly. Conduct of the same kind it was, when war was declared, to ask of Parliament money to take the troops to Malta and back; as if