And ye ladies; ye fairest incarnation of the spirit of love, which vivifies the universe, remember my words.  The heart of man is given into your tender hands.  You mould it in its infancy.  You imprint the lasting mark of character upon man’s brow, You ennoble his youth; you soften the harshness of his manhood; you are the guardian angels of his hoary age.  All your vocation is love, and your life is charity.  The religion of charity wants your apostolate, and requires your aid.  It is to you I appeal, and leave the sublime topic of my humble reflections to the meditations of your Christian hearts.

And thus, my task of to-day is done.  Man shall earn the means of life by the sweat of his brow.  Thus shall my family.  Your charity of to-day has opened the way to it.  The school which my mother, if God spares her life, will superintend, and in which two of my sisters will teach, and the humble farm which my third sister and her family shall work, will be the gift of your charity to-day.

A stony weight of cares is removed from my breast.  Oh! be blessed for it, be thanked for it, in the name of them all who have lost every thing, but not their trust to God, and not the benefit of being able to work.  My country will forgive me that I have taken from her the time of one day’s work—­to give bread to my aged mother and to my homeless sisters, the poor victims of unrelenting tyranny.  Returning to Europe, I may find my own little children in a condition that again the father will have to take the spade or the pen into his hand to give them bread.

And my fatherland will again forgive me, that that time is taken from her.  That is all what I take from her; nothing else of what is given, or what belongs to her.  And the day’s work which I take from my country, I will restore it by a night’s labour.  To-day, the son and the brother has done his task; you have requited his labour by a generous charity; the son and brother thanks you for it, and the patriot, to resume his task, bids you a hearty, warm farewell.

APPENDICES TO KOSSUTH’S SPEECHES.

Appendix I.—­Extracts from a Letter to the ‘Daily News,’ dated January 17th, 1852, by Sabbas Vucovics, late Minister of Justice in Hungary, in answer to Count Casimir Bathyanyi.

So early as the commencement of the Serbian insurrection, the popular suspicion gained ground that the insurrection had been stirred up by the secret intrigues of the court, and confidence in the truth and good faith of the King disappeared accordingly.  The nation, however, still indulged the hope that a weak King, though betrayed into ambiguous proceeding, would not permit himself to be carried away into a flagrant breach of the constitution.  This was the time when the King, in the opinion of the people, was kept distinct from the Camarilla.  But when the Austrian ministry openly attempted to deprive Hungary of its