Johann Gottlieb Fichte (17621814) Was a German Philosopher, a Reformer and a Supporter

Johann Gottlieb Fichte (17621814) was a German philosopher, a reformer and a supporter of the French Revolution and its ideals. But when France, under Napoleon, took control of Germany along with much of the rest of Europe, he rethought his position and made series of Addresses to the German Nation (1806), in Frenchoccupied Berlin.

The first, original, and truly natural boundaries of states are beyond doubt their internal boundaries. Those who speak the same language are joined to each other by a multitude of invisible bonds by nature herself, long before any human art begins; they understand each other and have the power of continuing to make themselves understood more and more clearly; they belong together and are by nature one and an inseparable whole. Such a whole, if it wishes to absorb and mingle with itself any other people of different descent and language, cannot do so without itself becoming confused, in the beginning at any rate, and violently disturbing the even progress of its culture. From this internal boundary, which is drawn by the spiritual nature of man himself, the marking of the external boundary by dwelling place results as a consequence; and in the natural view of things it is not because men dwell between certain mountains and rivers that they are a people, but, on the contrary, men dwell together- and, if their luck has so arranged it, are protected by rivers and mountains-because they were a people already by a law of nature which is much higher.

Thus was the German nation placed-sufficiently united within itself by a common language and a common way of thinking, and sharply enough severed from the other peoples-in the middle of Europe, as a wall to divide races not akin ....

That things should remain thus did not suit the selfishness of foreign countries, whose calculations did not look more than one moment ahead. They found German bravery useful in waging their wars and German hands useful to snatch the booty from their rivals. A means had to be found to attain this end, and foreign cunning won an easy victory over German ingenuousness and lack of suspicion. It was foreign countries which first made use of the division of mind produced by religious disputes in Germany-Germany, which presented on a small scale the features of Christian Europe as a whole-foreign countries, I say, made use of these disputes to break up the close inner unity of Germany into separate and disconnected parts....

. . . They knew how to present each of these separate states that had thus arisen in the lap of the one nation-which had no enemy except those foreign countries themselves, and no concern except the common one of setting itself with united strength against their seductive craft and cunning-foreign countries, I say, knew how to present each of these states to the others as a natural enemy, against which each state must be perpetually on its guard. On the other hand, they knew how to make themselves appear to the German states as natural allies against the danger threatening them from their own countrymen-as allies with whom alone they would themselves stand or fall, and whose enterprises they must in turn support with all their might. It was only because of this artificial bond that all the disputes which might arise about any matter whatever in the Old World or the New became disputes of the German races in their relation to each other. Every war, no matter what its cause, had to be fought out on German soil and with German blood; every disturbance of the balance had to be adjusted in that nation to which the whole fountainhead of such relationships was unknown; and the German states, whose separate existence was in itself contrary to all nature and reason, were compelled, in order that they might count for something, to act as makeweightsl to the chief forces in the scale of the European equilibrium, whose movement they followed blindly and without any will of their own. Just as in many states abroad the citizens are designated as belonging to this or that foreign party, or voting for this or that foreign alliance, but no name is found for those who belong to the party of their own country, so it was with the Germans; for long enough they belonged only to some foreign party or other, and one seldom came across a man who supported the party of the Germans and was of the opinion that this country ought to make an alliance with itself.

Now, at last, let us be bold enough to look at the deceptive vision of a universal monarchy, which people are beginning to hold up for public veneration in place of that equilibrium which for some time has been growing more and more preposterous, and let us perceive how hateful and contrary to reason that vision is. Spiritual nature was able to present the essence of humanity in extremely diverse gradations in individuals and in individuality as a whole, in peoples. Only when each people, left to itself, develops and forms itself in accordance with its own peculiar quality, and only when in every people each individual develops himself in accordance with that common quality, as well as in accordance with his own peculiar quality-then, and then only, does the manifestation of divinity appear in its true mirror as it ought to be; and only a man who either entirely lacks the notion of the rule of law and divine order, or else is an obdurate enemy thereto, could take upon himself to want to interfere with that law, which is the highest law in the spiritual world! Only in the invisible qualities of nations, which are hidden from their own eyes-qualities as the means whereby these nations remain in touch with the source of original life-only therein is to be found the guarantee of their present and future worth, virtue, and merit. If these qualities are dulled by admixture and worn away by friction, the flatness that results will bring about a separation from spiritual nature, and this in its turn will cause all men to~be fused together in their uniform and collective destruction.

Johann Gottlieb Fichte, Thirteenth Address, Addresses to the Gerrnan Nation, ed. George A. Kelly (New York: Harper Torch Books, 1968), pp. 19091,19394,19798. Giuseppe Mazzini (18051872), the founder (1831) of Young Italy, was perhaps the leading figure in liberal nationalism. He saw the creation of a democratic Italian state as crucial to Italy's development.

Europe no longer possesses unity of faith, of mission, or of aim. Such unity is a necessity in the world. Here, then, is the secret of the crisis. It is the duty of every one to examine and analyse calmly and carefully the probable elements of this new unity. But those who persist in perpetuating, by violence or by Jesuitical compromise, the external observance of the old unity, only perpetuate the crisis, and render its issue more violent.

There are in Europe two great questions; or, rather, the question of the transformation of authority, that is to say, of the Revolution, has assumed two forms; the question which all have agreed to call social, and the question of nationalities. The first is more exclusively agitated in France, the second in the heart of the other peoples of Europe. I say, which all have agreed to call social, because, generally speaking, every great revolution is so far social, that it cannot be accomplished either in the religious, political, or any other sphere, without affecting social relations, the sources and the distribution of wealth; but that which is only a secondary consequence in political revolutions is now the cause and the banner of the movement in France. The question there is now, above all, to establish better relations between labour and capital, between production and consumption, between the workman and the employer.

It is probable that the European initiative, that which will give a new impulse to intelligence and to events, will spring from the question of nationalities. The social question may, in effect, although with difficulty, be partly resolved by a single people; it is an internal question for each, and the French Republicans of 1848 so understood it, when, determinately abandoning the European initiative, they placed Lamartine's [Note: A French poet and politician] manifesto by the side of their aspirations towards the organisation of labour. The question of nationality can only be resolved by destroying the treaties of 1815, and changing the map of Europe and its public Law. The question of Nationalities, rightly understood, is the Alliance of the Peoples; the balance of powers based upon new foundations; the organisation of the work that Europe has to accomplish.

. . . It was not for a material interest that the people of Vienna fought in 1848; in weakening the empire they could only lose power. It was not for an increase of wealth that the people of Lombardy fought in the same year; the Austrian Government had endeavoured in the year preceding to excite the peasants against the landed proprietors, as they had done in Gallicia; but everywhere they had failed. They struggled, they still struggle, as do Poland, Germany, and Hungary, for country and liberty; for a word inscribed upon a banner, proclaiming to the world that they also live, think, love, and labour for the benefit of all. They speak the same language, they bear about them the impress of consanguinity, they kneel beside the same tombs, they glory in the same tradition; and they demand to associate freely, without obstacles, without foreign domination, in order to elaborate and express their idea; to contribute their stone also to the great pyramid of history. It is something moral which they are seeking; and this moral something is in fact, even politically speaking, the most important question in the present state of things. It is the organisation of the European task. It is no longer the savage, hostile, quarrelsome nationality of two hundred years ago which is invoked by these peoples. The nationality . . . founded upon the following principle:-Whichever people, by its superiority of strength, and by its geographical position, can do us an injury, is our natural enemy; whichever cannot do us an injury, but can by the amount of its force and by its position injure our enemy, is our natural ally, -is the princely nationality of aristocracies or royal races. The nationality of the peoples has not these dangers; it can only be founded by a common effort and a common movement; sympathy and alliance will be its result. In principle, as in the ideas formerly laid down by the men influencing every national party, nationality ought only to be to humanity that which the division of labour is in a workshop-the recognised symbol of association; the assertion of the individuality of a human group called by its geographical position, its traditions, and its language, to fulfil a special function in the European work of civilisation.

The map of Europe has to be remade. This is the key to the present movement; herein lies the initiative. Before acting, the instrument for action must be organised; before building, the ground must be one's own. The social idea cannot be realised under any form whatsoever before this reorganisation of Europe is effected; before the peoples are free to interrogate themselves; to express their vocation, and to assure its accomplishment by an alliance capable of substituting itself for the absolutist league which now reigns supreme.

Giuseppe Mazzini, "Europe: Its Condition and Prospects," Essays: Selected from the Writings, Literary, Political and Religious of Joseph Mazzini, ed. William Clark (London: Walter Scott, 1880), pp. 266, 27778, 29192. Guizot was a French academic politician, who served Louis Philippe as minister of public instruction (1832-37). He was the main power after 1840 and became premier in 1847. His government was overthrown in Febrary 1848. Speech of February 20, 1831 The Revolution destroyed the ancien régime but was unable to do more. The Empire arose to re-establish order, order of an exterior, material sort which was the basis of the civil society as the Revolution had founded it. The Empire spread this idea throughout all of Europe; this was its mission and it succeeded at it. It was incapable, however, of establishing a lasting political government; the necessary conditions were lacking. The Empire fell in its turn, to be succeeded by the Restoration. What did the Restoration promise? It promised to resolve the problem, to reconcile order with liberty. It was under this banner that the charter was granted. It had accepted principles of liberty in the charter; it had promised to establish them, but it made this promise under the cloak of the ancien régime, on which there had been written for so many centuries: Divine Right. It was unable to solve the problem. It died in the process, overwhelmed by the burden. It is on us, on the Revolution of July, that this job has been imposed; it is our duty and responsibility to establish definitively, not order alone, not liberty alone, but order and liberty at the same time. The general thought, the hope of France, has been order and liberty reuniting under the constitutional monarchy. There is the true promise of the Revolution of July. Speech of October 5, 1831 I have heard equality much spoken of; we have called it the fundamental principle of our political organization. I am afraid there has been a great mistake. Without doubt there are universal rights, equal rights for all, rights inherent in humanity and which no human being can be stripped of without injustice and disorder. It has been the honor of modern civilization to redeem these rights from that mass of violence and force under which they had long been hidden and to bring them back to light. There you have personal rights, universal and equal for all, from which stem equality in civil order and in moral order. But will political rights be of this order? It is through tradition, through heredity that families, peoples, and history subsist; without tradition, without heredity you would have nothing of that. It is through the personal activity of families, peoples, and individuals that produces the perfectibility of the human race. Suppress it, and you will cause the human race to fall to the rank of the animals. I say that aristocracy is the condition of modern societies, a necessary consequence of the nature of modern democracy. Upon this aristocracy two conditions are to be imposed: First, it is to be constantly submitted to the control and examination of democracy; second, it must recruit itself constantly from the people. Speech of February 15, 1842 I am, for my part, a decided enemy of universal suffrage. I look upon it as the ruin of democracy and liberty. If I needed proof I would have it under my very eyes; I will not elucidate. However, I should permit myself to say, with all the respect I have for a great country and a great government, that the inner danger, the social danger by which the United States appears menaced is due especially to universal suffrage; it is that which makes them run the risk of seeing their real liberties, the liberties of everybody, compromised, as well as the inner order of their society. . .

Percy B. St. John was an eyewitness to the events herein described, and the following were taken from his notes compiled at the time. Tuesday, February 22. The journals of the opposition appeared with the notice, in large letters, at the head of their papers, that the banquet was given up, and an appeal to the population of Paris to keep order, formed a very prominent part of the announcement. The Left were evidently alarmed, while ministers were confident and their journals sang a triumphant song of victory. From an early hour detachments of municipal guard, troops of the line and cavalry, were seen moving toward the boulevards and the Chamber of Deputies; it became known that heavy squadrons of cavalry had entered Paris during the night, while others were concealed within the Hippodrome, or were bivouacked round the fortifications. The spies of the government reported during the night that there was a total absence of conspiracy.... The weather was disagreeable, even wet. A somber and threatening sky hung over the town, but from six in the morning the boulevards presented an animated appearance. Crowds of workingmen, of shopkeepers, began to move toward the Church of the Madeleine, in front of which the procession was to have met and formed. Many were not aware that the banquet was given up, and went to witness the departure of the cortege, while those who knew that the opposition had abandoned their intention of holding the meeting, went with a vague desire to see what would happen. Hundreds went with a settled determination to bring things to an issue; for early on Tuesday morning I saw swords, and daggers, and pistols concealed under the blouses of the workingmen...... Between nine and ten I walked to the Place de la Madeleine. It was covered with knots of men and women of all classes, talking, whispering, looking about with a vague air of uncertainty and alarm.... The neighborhood of the Chamber of Deputies were then occupied militarily. A strong force was placed upon the Pont de la Concorde, and on attempting to pass, I and others were driven back by the military. No one was allowed to cross save deputies, who carried their medals, or persons bearing tickets. The other approaches to the legislature were equally well guarded. Between the Quai d'Orsay and the lnvalides, two regiments of the line and six pieces of artillery were stationed. Meanwhile, everywhere the crowd increased; all Paris seemed moving to the boulevards, to the Madeleine, to the Champs Elysees, and to the Place de la Concorde. As yet there was no menacing aspect in the masses, many artisans, with their wives on their arms, hung about looking on and listening. Not a policeman in uniform was seen, but many a mouchard face could be distinguished in the crowd. About ten o'clock, a considerable body of workmen, and young men belonging to the different schools of Paris collected on the Place du Pantheon, and set out for the Madeleine by the Rues St. Jacques, des Gres, the Pont Neuf, the Rue St. Honore, etc., crying as they went, Vive la Reforme, and singing the Marseillaise and the chant of the Girondins.... This procession, which had gradually swelled as it went, came out upon the boulevards by the Rue Duphot, and as they passed, it was impossible not to admire the courage of this body of young men, who, wholly unarmed, thus braved the strict orders of a government, backed by an immense army and whole parks of artillery. They were liable at every moment to be charged or fired on.... Having reached the Madeleine, the procession halted before the house in which the central committee of the electors of the opposition were in the habit of assembling, and asked for Barrot, who, however, was not there. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs, up to the time this procession passed before its door, had the gate open, with soldiers standing before utterly unarmed.... An officer of dragoons advanced alone to a large group of spectators, who were collected in the basin of one of the fountains, and begged them to retire, which many of them at once did. A few persisted; but suddenly the water beginning to play, they jumped out amid loud laughter. In fact, with few exceptions, the crowd, amidst whom were many well-dressed ladies and gentlemen, were excessively good humored. The majority seemed persuaded that the vast display of unarmed Parisians who had turned out would induce the ministry to give way. The municipal guard, however, like the gendarrnes and Swiss of the July Revolution, seemed doomed to mar all. This body, detested by the Parisians as police, kept up continued charges upon the crowd as it gradually dispersed.... About twelve, passing by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, I noticed, in the back court, a heavy detachment of dragoons, in addition to which, soon after, the front door was closed and guarded by numerous sentries. A powerful mob, with sticks and iron bars, strove to burst open the gate and inflict summary vengeance on Guizot. The windows were broken with stones. Loud cries of Vive la Reforme! were followed by a bas Guizot! A single municipal guard strove to get out at the front gate, as if to go for a reinforcement. He was pelted with stones and driven back within shelter of the hotel [i.e., the Ministry]. About this time a most imposing military force marched down upon the hotel, which assumed the air of a fortress. A line of soldiers, with their arms loaded and bayonets fixed, occupied the pavement. The long garden wall was guarded by a cordon of troops, and municipal guards on horseback stood before the door. These latter took up their position with so much carelessness, as to knock down and severely wound one of the crowd. Shortly after, one of these police having rushed out to seize a rioter, was unhorsed and severely handled, after which he was taken to the same doctor's shop where was the wounded man of the people. From that moment all disturbance finished on this point for the day, and Guizot was able to go to the Chamber of Deputies. The passengers were in this neighborhood compelled to turn out on to the carriage way, the whole pavement being occupied by soldiers.... At this very time [about three], having returned to my residence to write a letter, I was witness to a scene, which described minutely, may give an idea of many similar events. My residence is situated in the Rue St. Honore.... Called to my window by a noise, I saw several persons standing at the horses' heads of an omnibus. The driver whipped, and tried to drive on. The people insisted. At length, several policemen in plain clothes interfered, and as the party of the people was small, disengaged the omnibus, ordered the passengers to get out, and sent the vehicle home amid the hootings of the mob. A few minutes later, a cart full of stones and gravel came up. A number of boys seized it, undid the harness, and it was placed instantly in the middle of the street, amid loud cheering. A brewer's dray and hackney cab were in brief space of time added, and the barricade was made. The passers-by continued to move along with the most perfect indifference.... Next door to me is an armorer's. Suddenly the people perceived the words Prelat, armourier, over the door. A rush is made at his shutters, stones are raised at his windows, and those of the house he occupied, many of which smash the panes in neighboring houses. Every window is, however, filled by anxious spectators. Suddenly the shutters of the shop give way, they are torn down and borne to the barricade, while the windows being smashed, the people rush into the warehouse. There are no arms! The night before they have been removed or concealed. Still, a few horns of gunpowder, and some swords and pistols are taken. Though the mob was through the whole of the vast hotel, a portion of which was occupied by the armorer, nothing but arms were taken away.... On Wednesday, however, it was impossible to conceal from the Iiing that the movement was general, that the people were flying to arms, that barricades were rising in every quarter, and worse than all, the colonels of the national guard reported, one after another, that their men demanded, nay, insisted on the dismissal of Guizot. The generals of the line were interrogated. Not one would answer for the troops if the national guard sided with the people. The saying of an artillery officer near the Hotel de Ville was reported "Fire on the people? No! Fire on the people who pay us? We shall do nothing of the kind. If we have to choose between massacring our brothers and abandoning the monarchy, there can be no hesitation." Louis Philippe saw the critical nature of the position, and hesitated no longer. Guizot and his colleagues were dismissed...... Toward seven o'clock, the general aspect of Paris was peaceable. On the Petit Bourse, near the Opera, the funds had risen forty centimes on the arrival of the news that the ministry had been dismissed. Aides-de-camp and general officers galloped here and there, proclaiming the intelligence. Everywhere the people delivered the prisoners made during the day, and then they went away rejoicing. Nevertheless, the barricades were not abandoned. The strongest and most artistically made were guarded by some hundreds of young men, between the Rue du Temple and the Rue St. Martin, and about the Rue Transnonain. Though repeatedly told of the dismissal of Guizot, they replied that they must have guarantees, and with this they posted sentries at every issue, and prepared to bivouac for the night, many without food, many without fire. Among these were numbers of the better classes, who had placed blouses over their clothes and joined the people, to encourage and direct them. Between eight and nine o'dock, darkness having completely set in, the streets began to present an unusual aspect--- that of an illumination. With rare erceptions, at every window of the lofty houses on the quarter of the Tuileries, candles or lamps were placed, and by their light could be seen ladies and gentlemen looking down upon the dense and happy crowd who filled the streets to overflowing. Loud cheers greeted the presence of the spectators, while groans and threats of demolishing their windows were the punishment of the sulky few who refused to join in the genera1 manifestation. They gained nothing by it but to let their ill will be seen, for the populace compelled them to follow the general example. All, however, was gayety and good humor. After witnessing the fine coup-d'oeil presented by the Rue St. Honore, the longest street in the world, I believe, I attempted to gain the boulevards by the Place Vendome. I found it, however, occupied by a dense mass of some ten thousand men, who were striving to force the denizens of the Hotel de Justice to light up. As no attention was paid to their demand, and Hebert [minister of Justice] was peculiarly hated, they began to break his windows, and even set fire to the planks which shelved off from the door, as well as to the sentry box. A heavy body of cuirassiers however, and several detachments of national guards came down, and using vigorous, but gentle measures, re- established order. To lessen the crowd, they drew a line across the Rue Castiglione, and allowed no one to pass. Standing in the crowd, I heard many republicans conversing. Their tone was that of bitter disappointment. They said that the people were deceived, that a Molé ministry was a farce, and that if the populace laid down their arms, it would be but to take them up again. Still, the majority rejoiced. To have carried this point was a geat thing, and no greater proof of the patriotism of the workingmen can be given. They gained nothing by the change but mental satisfaction, with which a vast majority seemed amply satisfied. But a terrible and bloody tragedy was about to change the aspect of the whole scene.... Wednesday, February 23d. About a quarter past ten, while on my way, by another route, to the boulevards, I suddenly, with others, was startled by the aspect of a gentleman who, without his hat, ran madly into the middle of the street, and began to harangue the passersby. "To arms!" he cried, "we are betrayed. The soldiers have slaughtered a hundred unarmed citizens by the Hôtel des Capucines. Vengeance!" and having given the details of the affair, he hurried to carry the intelligence to other quarters. The effect was electric; each man shook his neighbor by the hand, and far and wide the word was given that the whole system must fall. As this tragic event sealed the fate of the Orleans dynasty, I have been at some pains to collect a correct version of it, and I have every reason to believe those who were eyewitnesses will bear me out in my description. I went immediately as near to the spot as possible, I conversed to numerous parties who saw it, and myself saw many of the immediate consequences. The boulevards were, like all the other streets, brilliantly illuminated, and everywhere immense numbers of promenaders walked up and down, men, women, and children, enjoying the scene, and rejoicing that the terrific struggle of the day had ceased. The footpaths were quite covered, while the carriage way, in part occupied by cavalry, was continually filled by processions of students, working men, and others, who sang songs of triumph at their victory. Round the Hôtel des Capucines, where Guizot resided, there was a heavy force of military, of troops of the line, dragoons, and municipal guard, who occupied the pavement and forced everyone on to the carriage way. A vast crowd, principally of accidental spectators, ladies, gentlemen, English, etc., in fact curious people in general, were stationed watching a few men and boys who tried to force the inmates to light up. For some time all was tranquil, but presently a column of students and artisans, unarmed, but singing "Mourir pour la patrie," came down the boulevards; at the same instant a gun was heard, and the 14th Regiment of Line leveled their muskets and fired. The scene which followed was awful. Thousands of men, women, children, shrieking, bawling, raving, were seen flying in all directions, while sixty-two men, women, and lads, belonging to every class of society, lay weltering in their blood upon the pavement. Next minute an awful roar, the first breath of popular indignation was heard, and then flew the students, artisans, the shopkeepers, all, to carry the news to the most distant parts of the city, and to rouse the population to arms against a government whose satellites murdered the people in this atrocious manner. A squadron of cuirassiers now charged, sword in hand, over dead and wounded, amid useless cries of "Mind the fallen," and drove the people before them. The sight was awful. Husbands were seen dragging their fainting wives from the scene of massacre; fathers snatching up their children, with pale faces and clenched teeth, hurried away to put their young ones in safety, and then to come out in arms against the monarchy. Women clung to railings, trees, or to the wall, or fell fainting on the stones. More than a hundred persons who saw the soldiers level, fell in time to save their lives, and then rose and hastened to quit the spot. Utter strangers shook hands and congratulated one another on their escape. In a few minutes, a deputy of the opposition, Courtais, now commanding the national guard, was on the spot and making inquiries into the cause of this fearful affair. "Sir," said he, warmly addressing the colonel in command, "you have committed an action, unworthy of a French soldier." The Colonel, overwhelmed with sorrow and shame, replied, that the order to fire was a mistake. It appeared that a ball, from a gun which went off accidentally, had struck his horse's leg, and that thinking he was attacked, he had ordered a discharge. "Monsieur le Colonel," added the honorable deputy, "you are a soldier, I believe in your good faith; but remember that an awful responsibility rests on your head." Tremendous indeed, for he had sealed the fate of the tottering monarchy! A word before we proceed. When the proclamation was made that the Guizot ministry had been dismissed, the military were gradually withdrawn, and wherever this occurred, tranquillity followed. No serious attacks were made upon any public building; in fact, the people contented themselves with breaking a few windows; everywhere the cry "Light the lamps," was not obeyed. Guizot, however, conscious of the intense hatred which was felt toward him, kept his house guarded like a fortress. The display of military force was tremendously imposing, both within and without the hoel. Had none been stationed outside, whatever he had in, the causes which kept crowds standing round, would have been removed, and the people would not have been irritated. It was the overcare of his own person shown by Guizot, which caused this frightful catastrophe. Like every other event of this great week, with all its momentous consequences, this is to be traced to the utter incapacity of Guizot, in politics.... Meanwhile, Courtais had hurried to the National office, while a body of men, now no longer hindered by the soldiers, proceeded to remove the heaps of dead and dying, whose groans must have been plainly heard by the ex-minister in his hotel. The wounded, and those bodies which were claimed, were borne to houses in the neighborhood, while some of the national guards in uniform were carried to their respective town halls, everywhere as the bloody banner of insurrections. Seventeen corpses, however, were retained and placed upon a cart. Ghastly was the spectacle of torch and gaslight, of that heap of dead, a few minutes before alive, merry, anxious, full of hopes, and perhaps, lofty aspirations for their country. Round about were men, no less pale and ghastly, bearing pikes and torches, while others drew the awful cartload along. Source: From: Percy B. St. John, The French Revolution of 1848: The Three Days of February, 1848, (New York, 1848), pp. 72-84, 104-110. Scanned by Jerome S. Arkenberg, Cal. State Fullerton. The text has been modernized by Prof. Arkenberg.

[This is a much less cleaned up version, than that normally given. It is worth reading outloud.] Sojourner Truth (c.1792-1883) - was the adopted name of a woman born in New York who escaped from slavery shortly before mandatory emancipation became law in the state in 1828. Truth was nearly six feet tall and physically powerful from her years of hard labor. She gave this speech - which made her famous at the time it in Akron, Ohio, at a women 's rights meeting in May, 1851. This version includes an introduction a setting of the scene.

Sojourner Truth, Mrs. Stowe's "Lybian Sibyl," was present at this Convention. Some of our younger readers may not know that Sojoumer Truth was once a slave in the State of New York, and carries today as many marks of the diabolism of slavery, as ever scarred the back of a victim in Mississippi. Though she can neither read nor write, she is a woman of rare intelligence and commonsense on all subjects. She is still living, at Battle Creek, Michigan, though now 110 years old. [note: In fact at time of publication she was c. 84 years old] Although the exalted character and personal appearance of this noble woman have been often portrayed, and her brave deeds and words many times rehearsed, yet we give the following graphic picture of Sojourner's appearance in one of the most stormy sessions of the Convention, from:

Reminiscences by Frances D. Gage: Sojoumer Truth.

The leaders of the movement trembled on seeing a tall, gaunt black woman in a gray dress and white turban, surmounted with an uncouth sunbonnet, march deliberately into the church, walk with the air of a queen up the aisle, and take her seat upon the pulpit steps. A buzz of disapprobation was heard all over the house, and there fell on the listening ear, "An abolition affair!" "Woman's rights and niggers!" "I told you so!" "Go it, darkey!"

I chanced on that occasion to wear my first laurels in public life as president of the meeting. At my request order was restored, and the business of the Convention went on. Morning, afternoon, and evening exercises came and went. Through all these sessions old Sojoumer, quiet and reticent as the "Lybian Statue," sat crouched against the wall on the comer of the pulpit stairs, her sunbonnet shading her eyes, her elbows on her knees, her chin resting upon her broad, hard palms. At intermission she was busy selling the "Life of Sojourner Truth," a narrative of her own strange and adventurous life. Again and again, timorous and trembling ones came to me and said, with earnestness, "Don't let her speak, Mrs. Gage, it will ruin us. Every newspaper in the land will have our cause mixed up with abolition and niggers, and we shall be utterly denounced." My only answer was, "We shall see when the time comes." The second day the work waxed warm. Methodist, Baptist, Episcopal, Presbyterian, and Universalist ministers came in to hear and discuss the resolutions presented. One claimed superior rights and privileges for man, on the ground of "superior intellect"; another, because of the "manhood of Christ; if God had desired the equality of woman, He would have given some token of His will through the birth, life, and death of the Saviour." Another gave us a theological view of the "sin of our first mother."

There were very few women in those days who dared to "speak in meeting"; and the august teachers of the people were seemingly getting the better of us, while the boys in the galleries, and the sneerers among the pews, were hugely enjoying the discomfiture, as they supposed, of the "strongminded." Some of the tenderskinned friends were on the point of losing dignity, and the atmosphere betokened a storm. When, slowly from her seat in the corner rose Sojourner Truth, who, till now, had scarcely lifted her head. "Don't let her speak!" gasped half a dozen in my ear. She moved slowly and solemnly to the front, laid her old bonnet at her feet, and turned her great speaking eyes to me. There was a hissing sound of disapprobation above and below. I rose and announced "Sojourner Truth," and begged the audience to keep silence for a few moments.

The tumult subsided at once, and every eye was fixed on this almost Amazon form, which stood nearly six feet high, head erect, and eyes piercing the upper air like one in a dream. At her first word there was a profound hush. She spoke in deep tones, which, though not loud, reached every ear in the house, and away through the throng at the doors and windows.

"Wall, chilern, whar dar is so much racket dar must be somethin' out o' kilter. I tink dat 'twixt de niggers of de Souf and de womin at de Norf, all talkin' 'bout rights, de white men will be in a fix pretty soon. But what's all dis here talkin' 'bout? "Dat man ober dar say dat womin needs to be helped into carriages, and lifted ober ditches, and to hab de best place everywhar. Nobody eber helps me into carriages, or ober mudpuddles, or gibs me any best place!" And raising herself to her full height, and her voice to a pitch like rolling thunder, she asked, "And a'n't I a woman? Look at me! Look at my arm! (and she bared her right arm to the shoulder, showing her tremendous muscular power). I have ploughed, and planted, and gathered into barns, and no man could head me! And a'n't I a woman? I could work as much and eat as much as a man-when I could get it-and bear de lash as well! And a'n't I a woman? I have borne thirteen chilern, and seen 'em mos' all sold off to slavery, and when I cried out with my mother's grief, none but Jesus heard me! And a'n't I a woman? "Den dey talks 'bout dis ting in de head; what dis dey call it?" ("Intellect," whispered some one near.) "Dat's it, honey. What's dat got to do wid womin's rights or nigger's rights. If my cup won't hold but a pint, and yourn holds a quart, wouldn't ye be mean not to let me have my little halfmeasure full?"

And she pointed her significant finger, and sent a keen glance at the minister who had made the argument. The cheering was long and loud.

"Den dat little man in black dar, he say women can't have as much rights as men, 'cause Christ wan't a woman! Whar did your Christ come from?"

Rolling thunder couldn't have stilled that crowd, as did those deep, wonderful tones, as she stood there with outstretched arms and eyes of fire. Raising her voice still louder, she repeated,

"Whar did your Christ come from? From God and a woman! Man had nothin' to do wid Him." Oh, what a rebuke that was to that little man.

Turning again to another objector, she took up the defense of Mother Eve. I can not follow her through it all. It was pointed, and witty, and solemn; eliciting at almost every sentence deafening applause; and she ended by asserting:

"If de fust woman God ever made was strong enough to turn de world upside down all alone, dese women togedder (and she glanced her eye over the platform) ought to be able to turn it back, and get it right side up again! And now dey is asking to do it, de men better let 'em."

Long continued cheering greeted this.

" 'Bleeged to ye for hearin' on me, and now ole Sojourner han't got nothin' more to say." Amid roars of applause, she returned to her corner, leaving more than one of us with streaming eyes, and hearts beating with gratitude. She had taken us up in her strong arms and carried us safely over the slough of difficulty turning the whole tide in our favor. I have never in my life seen anything like the magical influence that subdued the mobbish spirit of the day, and turned the sneers and jeers of an excited crowd into notes of respect and admiration. Hundreds rushed up to shake hands with her, and congratulate the glorious old mother, and bid her Godspeed on her mission of "testifyin' agin concerning the wickedness of this 'ere people."

From Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Susan B. Anthony, and Matilda J. Gage, eds., History of Woman Suffrage, vol. I (1881; reprint, New York: Arno Press, 1969), pp. 11417.

National Song of Hungary, 1848

[Tappan Introduction] Much of the Magyar poetry is thrilled with a burning love of country. Even the poems that have nothing to do with patriotism are marked by a certain intensity of feeling. No matter how light the subject or how graceful the touch of the author, it seems impossible for him to lay down his pen without adding some line that changes a pleasant little rhyme into an expression of earnest thought.

RISE, Magyar! is the country's call! The time has come, say one and all: Shall we be slaves, shall we be free? This is the question, now agree! For by the Magyar's God above We truly swear, We truly swear the tyrant's yoke No more to bear!

Alas! till now we were but slaves; Our fathers resting in their graves Sleep not in freedom's soil. In vain They fought and died free homes to gain. But by the Magyar's God above We truly swear, We truly swear the tyrant's yoke No more to bear!

A miserable wretch is he Who fears to die, my land, for thee! His worthless life who thinks to be Worth more than thou, sweet liberty! Now by the Magyar's God above We truly swear, We truly swear the tyrant's yoke No more to bear! The sword is brighter than the chain, Men cannot nobler gems attain; And yet the chain we wore, oh, shame! Unsheath the sword of ancient fame! For by the Magyar's God above We truly swear, We truly swear the tyrant's yoke No more to bear!

The Magyar's name will soon once more Be honored as it was before! The shame and dust of ages past Our valor shall wipe out at last. For by the Magyar's God above We truly swear, We truly swear the tyrant's yoke No more to bear!

And where our graves in verdure rise, Our children's children to the skies Shall speak the grateful joy they feel, And bless our names the while they kneel. For by the Magyar's God above We truly swear, We truly swear the tyrant's yoke No more to bear!

Source:

From: Eva March Tappan, ed., The World's Story: A History of the World in Story, Song and Art, (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1914), Vol. VI: Russia, Austria-Hungary, The Balkan States, and Turkey, pp. 408-410.

Scanned by Jerome S. Arkenberg, Cal. State Fullerton. The text has been modernized by Prof. Arkenberg.