Before the heroic struggle of Greece had yet engaged your country's sympathy for the fate of freedom, in Europe then so far distant and now so near, Chateaubriand happened to be in Athens, and he heard from a _minaret_ raised upon the Propylaeum's ruins a Turkish priest in the Arabic language announcing the lapse of hours to the Christians of Minerva's town. What immense history there was in the small fact of a Turkish Imaum crying out, "Pray, pray! the hour is running fast, and the judgment draws near." Sir, there is equally a history of future ages written in the honour bestowed by you on my humble self. The first Governor of Independent Hungary, driven from his native land by Russian violence; an exile on Turkish soil, protected by a Mahommedan Sultan from the blood-thirst of Christian tyrants; cast back a prisoner to far Asia by diplomacy; was at length rescued from his Asiatic prison, when America crossed the Atlantic, charged with the hopes of Europe's oppressed nations. He pleads, as a poor exile, before the people of this great Republic, his country's wrongs and its intimate connection with the fate of the European continent, and, in the boldness of a just cause, claims that the principles of the Christian religion be raised to a law of nations. To see that not only is the boldness of the poor exile forgiven, but that he is consoled by the sympathy of millions, encouraged by individuals, associations, meetings, cities, and States; supported by effective aid and greeted by Congress and by Government as the nation's guest; honoured, out of generosity, with that honour which only one man before him received (a man who had deserved them from your gratitude,) with honours such as no potentate ever can receive, and this banquet here, and the toast which I have to thank you for: oh! indeed, sir, there is a history of future ages in all these facts! They will go down to posterity as the proper consequences of great principles.