er to keep cool.

"Noble comrades,"--he began in an unusually calm voice,--"sympathy for
the unfortunate and hatred for old enemies are both passions befitting
men. The life of states however offers no room for passions. Here we
are not kinsmen nor friends, nor even enemies. Here we are only
patriots who reckon coolly; for the decision will determine the fate
of the whole country, quite apart from the question of how many will
weep or lament in consequence of the decision. This is the real
question,--'Shall we stake the existence of Transylvania for Hungary,
that it may arise again by our blood?' Let us not follow the voice of
our hearts; this would lead us to feel only, the head must think. At
present, Transylvania lives in peace. The people begin to feel
prosperous. The towns are building up. The garb of mourning is
gradually disappearing and on the bloody battlefields the blade shoots
into the ear. Now the Hungarian within Transylvania is his own master;
no stranger forces tribute from him; he has neither foe nor patron;
nobody dares mix in his councils: the neighboring powers are under
obligation to protect him, and he has no homage to pay them. Consider
this well before you hazard everything for one chance. Do you wish to
see Transylvania once more turned into a great battlefield and your
subjects into armies? and there is still the question whether these
armies would be victorious. Even if our fighting force were sufficient
another important question arises:--Who is to be our leader? Not one
of us has inherited the spirit of Bethlen or Bocskai. Neither I, nor
my lord Teleki. On whom can we count outside ourselves? on the mood of
Louis XIV.? his policy is easily made to waver by a pair of beautiful
eyes; and when we should be in the deepest distress it is possible
that a little intrigue at Versailles might be the cause of our being
left alone on the battlefield."

A slight cough of vexation was heard from Forval.

"However," went on Banfy, "Sobieski will not pick a quarrel with the
Emperor his present ally, for our beautiful eyes, unless there is
every other cause. Nor will the Sultan so easily break his oath as my
lord, Michael Bethlen, imagines. What course is there left us? To call
into Hungary the Tartar Nomads? The poor Hungarian people would
certainly return most hearty thanks for such assistance! The brave
Nicholas Zrinyi, who stands as the ideal to every Hungarian, once
related a fable bearing on this wh