ph II. to denationalise the Magyar and to Germanise
Hungary by imperial edicts had a violent reactionary result. The
strongest and the most enduring expression is to be found in the popular
literature which was inaugurated by such men as Csokonai and the two
brothers Kisfaludy, who were all three born in the last century. The
songs of Csokonai have retained their hold on the people's hearts
because, and here is the keynote--"because they breathe the true
Hungarian feeling." The insistent themes of the Magyar poets were the
love of country, the joys of home, the duty of patriotism. Such was the
soul-stirring 'Appeal' ('Szozat') of Varosmazty, the chief of all the
tuneful brethren, the Schiller of Hungary. Born with the nineteenth
century, and at once its child and its teacher, he died in 1855--too
soon, alas! to see the benefits accruing to his beloved country from the
wise reconciliatory policy of his dear friend Deak. His funeral was
attended by more than 20,000 people, and the country provided for his
family.

Whenever the poets of Hungary are mentioned the name of Petoefy will
occur, and he was second to none in originality of thought and poetic
utterance. An intense love of his native scenery, not excepting even the
dreary boundless Alfoeld, afforded inspiration for his genius. His poetic
temperament and pathetic story give him a certain likeness to the brave
young Koerner, dear to every German heart. Petoefy was engaged in editing
a Hungarian translation of Shakespeare when he was interrupted by the
political events of 1848. His pen and sword were alike devoted to the
cause of patriotism, and entering the army under General Bern, he
became his adjutant and secretary. During the memorable winter campaign
in Transylvania he wrote proclamations and warlike songs. We all know
the story of the Russian invasion of Transylvania at Austria's appeal,
and how the brave Hungarians fought and fell at the battle of
Schaessburg. This engagement took place on the 31st of July '49. Petoefy
was present, and indeed had been seen in the thick of the fight; but in
the evening he was missing from the roll-call, and, strange to say, his
remains, though searched for, were never identified. The mystery which
hung over his fate caused many romantic stories to be circulated, and
not a few claimants to his name and fame have arisen. Even within the
last three months a report has reached his native village that he had
been seen in the mines o