This extraordinary and almost phenomenal energy must surely excite the admiration of any thinking man interested in the history of humanity. When even Rome in the zenith of its glory impresses us with the magnitude of its power, how could the actions and operations of Albion, so infinitely greater, mightier and more impressive, leave us indifferent? These and similar ideas from the very first attracted me towards England; I felt interested in all her doings, and when it came to the question of the Anglo-Russian rivalry in Asia, I naturally always took the side of England. Besides, could I, or dare I, have acted differently considering the outrageous interference of Russia in the Hungarian struggle for independence in 1848, and also mindful of the fact that the government of the Czar, that frightful instrument of tyranny, that pool of all imaginable slander and abuse, that disgrace to humanity, must on no account be strengthened and supported in its thirst for conquest? In proportion as the dominion of the Czar grows in Asia, so do his means increase for checking the liberty of Europe, and the easier will it be for Russia to perform acts of benevolence and friendship towards those of our sovereigns who long for absolutism. England's greatness can never damage, but rather profit us; as the worthy torch-bearer of nineteenth-century culture no liberal-minded man will follow her successful operations in Asia with envious eyes. And so my literary activity was a thorn in the eyes of the cunning Muscovites, and the ways and means they used to counteract it are not without interest. One day in Pest I received a visit from a well-known Russian statesman, who introduced himself to me with the following remark, "When the great Greek General fled to Persia, he presented himself before Cyrus the greatest enemy of the Greeks. I have come to Hungary to pay my respects to you." Of course I received him as pleasantly as possible, and when the wily diplomatist looked round my poor abode he remarked with a smile, "You work a great deal, and yet you do not appear to be very well off. _You would probably be in better circumstances if you did not work so much._" I replied, also with a smile, that I had accustomed myself to a Dervish life in Asia, that it suited me admirably both morally and physically, and that with reference to the intellectual result, I felt no desire or need to make any change. "Just so," remarked the Muscovite, looking me straight in the face, and soon turned the conversation on to other subjects. Various other attempts were made to turn me aside from the path I pursued and to discredit me in the eyes of England and of the Continent. But their trouble was all in vain, for the bitter hostility of a despotic Government and their venomous darts must remain without effect against the expressed approval of a free nation and the approbation of the whole liberal West.