Those who have visited Buda-Pesth will remember how, when they had left the modern magnificence of Pesth and crossed the suspension-bridge which joins it with Buda, they have come to a pause at the foot of the steep rock which confronts them. Then, if, instead of ascending to the fortress of Buda, they turned southwards along the shores of the Danube, in a short time they would have found themselves in a district in complete contrast with the rest of the capital, where an air of poverty, hardly found elsewhere in the town, is combined with an originality and picturesqueness of decoration which is neither German nor Magyar. Little cottages, coloured yellow, blue, or white, are built up against the rock in all kinds of irregular ways; in some places the rooms are below the street, and the gay appearance is increased by signs outside the shops, showing what articles can be procured there. The bright handkerchiefs on the heads of the women, and the gay colours worn by both sexes, give a somewhat Eastern aspect to the streets and market-place. Such is the Raitzenstadt, the quarter of the Serbs, long looked down upon by their Magyar countrymen. There, on March 17, the representatives of about a hundred districts of the neighbourhood gathered to prepare a petition for leave to use their national language in national affairs. This roused the fierce opposition of the Magyar youth of Pesth; and the Committee of Safety which had just been formed found itself unable to protect the Serbs from violence. If, indeed, the spirit of Kossuth's speech of March 3 had been still triumphant, compromises might have been found which would have hindered the claims of the Serbs from provoking actual war. But the sudden outburst of statesmanlike feeling which produced that speech was not of long duration; and, even if Kossuth had desired to conciliate the subject-races of Hungary, there were those at his back who would never have consented to such tolerance.