Bethlen Almanac 1997 (Ligonier)
The Hungarian Reformed Federation of America
I say it because they have been rocked roughly by the same rude barbarous nurse, because they have been trained to hearts of oak and nerves of steel in the same strenuous war for independence, and for this reason I champion their cause. They have my unbounded sympathy and admiration, because / believe in the cause they have so valiantly fought for, because they came to me with the same hopes and aspirations that / have myself, because I rejoice in the splendid history of their race and the genius of their sons who have enriched the world with the rarest treasures of thought. I sympathize with and admire them, because I know Joseph Eötvös, the friend, intimate and supporter of Kossuth-poet, writer and statesman-who more than any other Hungarian influenced the course of European literature of his time; because I know Madách and have read his “Tragedy of Man, ” the soul of which was the clarion message of his life sent out to all eternity- ”struggle, man and trust"; because I know and love Maurice Jókai, the Hungarian Shakespeare, who has filled the world with hundreds of the matchless masterpieces of his mind-and, Mr. Speaker, they have my sympathy and admiration, because I know Petőfi, a “fallen star in the Magyar sea, ” who of all the singers of the first half of the nineteenth century, brought to poetic creation an inextinguishable glow of passionate patriotism. He lived a life of meteoric glory that has not faded, nor will it die. He vanished like a dream in manhood's morn. The spot, where he has fallen, no man knows, and the pathos of his song, the wish of his life, that when all was over flowers might be scattered where he slept, must remain forever unfulfilled. But the bloom of his day shall fill the earth with the perfume of his immemorial glory. Yes, Mr. Speaker, they spring from a race of unrequited heroism; a people full of the genius that touches liberty with love and the state with serenity. They will people the future with a proud progeny. The sons of Petőfi must, and will glorify us through the generations - of Petőfi, who smote all the singing chords ofthat harp of a thousand strings, the Hungarian heart with deathless strains of immortal valor: “Upon our graves shall dawn a brighter sun, Our children rise to bless the natal earth; 13
