Hungarian Diets. The young count took his
seat in the Diet of 1826, wearing the
uniform of an officer of hussars. It
will be difficult for our readers, at this
day, either to imagine, or to understand,
how great was the scandal, and how
vehement the indignation, when he rose, in this
assembly, to address his countrymen in
their native tongue. It was the first time
that Hungarian had been spoken in an
Hungarian Diet. The whole of the Court
party, and the immense majority of the
Chamber were furious. The count
received, the same day, a peremptory order
to rejoin his regiment without a moment's
delay. He replied by placing his resignation
in the hands of his colonel. At
the next session of the Diet he appeared
dressed in the national costume, and
continued to address the Chamber in the
national tongue. The indignation of the
Magnates, the alarm of the Bureaux, the
anger of the Court, at this innovation,
enable us to appreciate the wisdom of the
excessive caution and patient tact, with
which the regenerator of Hungary now
began to feel his way, step by step,
towards the ultimate attainment of the
object he had resolved to achieve. He
founded the Casino of Pesth; a sort of
conversational lounge for young and old,
modelled after the fashion of our English
clubs. He started races, jockey-clubs, and
various similar means and pretexts for
social gatherings. The eyes of the official
Argus winked and dozed again.
Meanwhile, by such unpretentious means, the
count (a consummate man of the world)
was gradually drawing the men and minds
of his own class and country into a focus
on which his personal influence could exert
the strongest private pressure. In the
same spirit he published in 1831 a little
pamphlet, Magyar Sinhaz, on the
educational functions of the stage, written in
Hungarian. In the following year the
subject of this pamphlet was taken up by
the Diet, and made the object of a Bill,
which encountered much opposition, and
was not passed before 1836. In 1837 the
Magyar Theatre (the Great Magyar's first
great creation) was opened at Pesth.

Meanwhile, the count had sounded his
first open war-cry against the ancienne
regime; not a frothy proclamation of the
vices of the Vienna cabinet and the virtues
of the Hungarian nation, but a vigorous
attack upon the whole feudal system of
Hungarian society. "It is not Austria
that oppresses you," cried the author to
his countrymen, "it is your own Gothic
prejudices and mouldy institutions. No
human power can arrest the life of
a nation, if the nation be worthy to live.
Your regeneration is in your own hands."
The excitement occasioned by this
publication was immense. Feudalism had
hitherto been so strongly associated by
the Hungarians with the cause of their
national independence, that the condemnation
of the one was regarded as an insult
to the other; and the Great Magyar was
accused by his own countrymen of high
treason against the ancient liberties of
Hungary. Count Joseph Dessewffy, a
Conservative of high spirit and great ability,
undertook to defend patriarchal tradition
from the author of Credit; whom he
denounced as a mischievous iconoclast, in
a work entitled Analysis. Szechenyi
replied to the challenge in a book which
he called The World. Dessewffy,
overwhelmed by the tremendous antagonist
whom he had invited into the lists, retired
from the conflict; and the government,
which had hitherto been disposed to view,
if not with complete satisfaction, at least
with malicious amusement, the discomfiture
of an old enemy of its own—the ancient
Magyarism —now took the alarm. For it
began to perceive that this controversy, past
and future, was being watched with ominous
interest by a stranger of uncouth appearance,
whose attendance had been invoked,
as umpire, by the Great Magyar. This
new comer was the greatest Magyar of all.
It was the Magyar People.

The count's next work, The Stadium,
was prohibited by the Austrian censor,
and only found its way into Hungary
from Bucharest. This work contains the
sketch of a system of laws, which are
now the basis of Hungarian society.
Meanwhile, it was not merely with his pen
that the Great Magyar was at work. He
knew that example is the best teacher.
He had been preaching to his countrymen
the magnificent commercial capabilities of
their great natural highway, the Danube.
"But the Danube is not navigable," said
they. "Your fault. You can make it
navigable." "Pooh! you forget the Iron
Gates." was the invariable reply. The
count's answer to this objection was
characteristic. On the quay at Pesth he built a
little vessel. He launched it, and, pledging
himself to steer it safely past the cataracts,
embarked. Soon afterwards the whole of
Hungary was ringing with applause of
the successful navigator. Prince Metternich
himself was carried away by the
contagious enthusiasm. The success of this