As I regard his course, I am filled with reverence and awe. I see in him, more than in any other living man, the power which may be exerted by a single, earnest, honest soul in a noble cause. In himself he is more than a whole cabinet, more than a whole army. I watch him in Hungary, while, like Carnot in France, he "organizes victory"; I follow him in exile to distant Mahometan Turkey, and there find him, with only a scanty band, in weakness and confinement, still the dread of despots; I sympathize with him in his happy release; and now, as he comes more within the sphere of immediate observation, amazement fills us all in the contemplation of his career, while he proceeds from land to land, from city to city, and, with words of matchless power, seems at times the fiery sword of Freedom, and then the trumpet of resurrection to the Nations,-- "Tuba mirum spargens sonum."[73] I know not how others are impressed; but I call to mind no incident in history, no event of peace or war,--certainly none of war,--more strongly calculated, better adapted, to touch and exalt the imagination and the heart than his recent visit to England. He landed on the southern coast, not far from where William of Normandy, nearly eight centuries ago, had landed,--not far from where, nineteen centuries ago, Julius Cæsar had landed also; but William on the field of Hastings, and Cæsar in his adventurous expedition, made no conquest comparable in grandeur to that achieved by the unarmed and unattended Hungarian. A multitudinous people, outnumbering far the armies of those earlier times, was subdued by his wisdom and eloquence; and this exile, proceeding from place to place, traversing the country, at last, in the very heart of the Kingdom, threw down the gauntlet of the Republic. Without equivocation, amidst the supporters of monarchy, in the shadow of a lofty throne, he proclaimed himself a republican, and proclaimed the republic as his cherished aspiration for Hungary. And yet, amidst the excitements of this unparalleled scene, with that discretion which I pray may ever attend him as a good angel,--the ancient poet aptly tells us that no Divinity is absent where Prudence is present,[74]--he forbore all suggestion of interference with the institutions of the country whose guest he was, recognizing that vital principle of self-government by which every state chooses for itself the institutions and rulers it prefers. [73] Dies Iræ, st. 3. [74] "Nullum numen abest, si sit Prudentia."--JUVENAL, _Sat._ X. 365.