The same fear, giving rise to gloomy forebodings, is to be seen in the writings of the poet Daniel Berzsenyi, who said, in one of his odes (To the Magyars), that "Hungary could not be destroyed by the wild hordes of the Tartars, nor by the world-subduing might of the Turks. Civil wars were not able to ruin her, because her ancient virtue remained alive. But now the slow, subtle poison of degeneration is paralysing her, and if virtue is utterly lost, then the realm, though mighty as Rome herself, is doomed to perish. With the Hungarians of to-day, Attila could not have conquered Europe, Árpád could not have won a home for his people, nor Hunyadi have driven back the Turks. When once degeneration sets in the end is not far off. On the page of history it is written in letters of fire, that a nation once stricken with that blight must perish, as Troy and Babylon, Carthage and Rome, perished."
John Kiss, an author of the same period, wrote to his friend Kazinczy, referring to Herder's words, "However sad it may be, I also prophesy the annihilation of my country."
A learned cavalry officer, Joseph Csehy (who was soon after killed by a Russian bullet during Napoleon's Russian campaign), was once sitting in a public library, reading Herder. Andrew Dugonics, University Professor and novelist, happened to enter the library at that moment and Csehy pointed out the words of Herder to him, adding with a sigh, "The sun of our nation's life
und anderen Völkern der geringere Theil der Landeseinwohner und nach Jahrhunderten wird man vielleicht ihre Sprache kaum finden."
Some decades later even (1821) Goethe said of Hungary, "A country wonderfully rich in blessings. 'Tis a great pity it cannot progress."
