"8 SOUTH BANK, REGENT'S PARK, LONDON, March 24, 1856. "MY VENERABLE FRIEND,-- "Though I very gratefully appreciate the generosity of your intentions, still I must confess that few things have ever affected me more painfully than to see from the 'Times' of to-day my private circumstances--the sacred domain of life--thrust as an object of commiseration upon public discussion,--a miserable subject of public sneers. "My head turns giddy at the very thought, and my resignation is scarcely able to overcome the shame. I don't know how I shall muster sufficient resolution to appear in public ever hereafter; and I fear, with all your good intentions, you shall have become the involuntary instrument for driving me out of England before my time. I really scarcely can imagine what else I have to do, unless you devise some means for healing the wound. "I am poor, very poor; but there was, I dare say, something honorable in that poverty, something sacred I would say. But seeing it made the object of a public appeal for commiseration, I feel as if everything that was sacred in my position had undergone a profanation. "I repeat that I respect and appreciate the nobility of your impulses, but I regret that such a step should have been taken without my having an idea of its possibility. "I will say no more, but leave it with your prudence and discretion to mitigate the blow your kindness has inflicted on me. And remain with wonted esteem, only mingled with grief, "Yours very truly, "KOSSUTH. "TO WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR." Opposite the nervous yet legible scrawl of the noble and maligned Magyar, Landor traced the following answer. "It is impossible for me to rest until I have attempted to remove the vexation I have caused to the man I most venerate of any upon earth. "My noble Kossuth! 'the sacred domain of your life' is far more extensive than your measurement. Neither your house nor your banker's are its confines. Do not imagine that the world is ignorant of your circumstances; it would be a crime to be indifferent to them. "The editor of the Atlas, in announcing that he had _secured your co-operation_, published a manifesto. I know nothing of this editor; but so long as you contributed to the paper, I was your humble subsidiary. "Consider how many men, wealthier than you and me, have accepted the offers of those who came forward to indemnify the persecuted for the demolition of their property. Ask yourself if Demosthenes or Milton, the two most illustrious defenders of liberty, by speech and pen, would have thrust aside the tribute which is due to such men alone. Would you dash out the signature of one who declares you his trustee for a legacy to your children? No, you would not. Neither will you reject the proofs of high esteem, however manifested, which England, however debased, is anxious to give. "Believe me ever sincerely and affectionately yours, "W. S. LANDOR. "March 27."