Our second particular claim is, that the source of all the misfortune which now weighs so heavily upon my bleeding fatherland, is in two ladies—­Catharine of Russia, and Sophia of Hapsburg, the ambitious mother of this second Nero, Francis-Joseph.  You know that one hundred and fifty years ago, Charles the Twelfth of Sweden, the bravest of the brave, foreseeing the growth of Russia, and fearing that it would oppress and overwhelm civilization, ventured with a handful of men to attack its rising power.  After immortal deeds, and almost fabulous victories, one loss made him a refugee upon Turkish soil, like myself.  But, happier than myself, he succeeded in persuading Turkey of the necessity of checking Russia in her overweening ambition, and curtailing her growth.  On went Mehemet Baltadji with his Turks, and met Peter the Czar, and pent him up in a corner, where there was no possibility of escape.  There Mehemet held him with iron grasp till hunger came to his aid.  Nature claimed her rights, and in a council of war it was decided to surrender to Mehemet.  Then Catharine who was present in the camp, appeared in person before the Grand Vizier to sue for mercy.  She was fair, and she was rich with jewels of nameless value.  She went to the Grand Vizier’s tent.  She came back without her jewels, but she brought mercy, and Russia was saved.  From that celebrated day dates the downfall of Turkey, and the growth of Russia.  Out of this source flowed the stream of Russian preponderance over the European continent.  The depression of liberty, and the nameless sufferings of Poland and of my poor native land, are the dreadful fruits of Catharine’s success on that day, cursed in the records of the human race.

The second lady who will be cursed through all posterity in her memory, is Sophia, the mother of the present usurper of Hungary—­she who had the ambitious dream to raise the power of a child upon the ruins of liberty, and on the neck of prostrate nations.  It was her ambition—­the evil genius of the House of Hapsburg in the present day—­which brought desolation upon us.  I need only mention one fact to characterize what kind of a heart was in that woman.  On the anniversary of the day of Arad, where our martyrs bled, she came to the court with a bracelet of rubies set in so many roses as was the number of heads of the brave Hungarians who fell there, declaring that she joyfully exhibited it to the company as a memento which she wears on her very arm, to cherish in eternal memory the pleasure she derived from the killing of those heroes at Arad.  This very fact may give you a true knowledge of the character of that woman, and this is the second claim to the ladies’ sympathy for oppressed humanity and for my poor fatherland.