Select Speeches of Kossuth

by Lajos Kossuth

KOSSUTH'S REPLY.

Mr. President—The General Assembly of Ohio, having magnanimously bestowed upon me the high honour of this national welcome, it is with profound veneration that I beg leave to express my fervent gratitude for it.

Were even no principles for the future connected with the honour which I now enjoy, still the past would be memorable as history, and not fail to have a beneficial influence, continuously to develop the Spirit of the Age. Almost every century has had one predominant idea, which imparted a common direction to the activity of nations. This predominant idea is the Spirit of the Age, invisible yet omnipresent; impregnable, all-pervading; scorned, abused, opposed, and yet omnipotent.

The spirit of our age is Democracy. All for the people and all by the people. Nothing about the people without the people. That is Democracy, and that is the ruling tendency of the spirit of our age.

To this spirit is opposed the principle of Despotism, claiming sovereignty over mankind, and degrading nations from the position of a self-conscious, self-consistent aim, to the condition of tools subservient to the authority of ambition.

One of these principles will and must prevail. So far as one civilization prevails, the destiny of mankind is linked to a common source of principles, and within the boundaries of a common civilization community of destinies exists. Hence the warm interest which the condition of distant nations awakes now-a-days in a manner not yet recorded in history because humanity never was yet aware of that common tie as it now is. With this consciousness thus developed, two opposite principles cannot rule within the same boundaries—Democracy and Despotism.

In the conflict of these two hostile principles, until now it was not Right, not Justice, but only Success which met approbation and applause. Unsuccessful patriotism was stigmatized with the name of crime. Revolution not crowned by success was styled Anarchy and Revolt, and the vanquished patriot being dragged to the gallows by victorious despotism, men did not consider why he died on the gallows; but the fact itself, that there he died, imparted a stain to his name.

And though impartial history, now and then, casts the halo of a martyr over an unsuccessful patriot's grave, yet even this was not always sure. Tyrants have often perverted history by adulation or by fear. But whatever that late verdict might have been; for him who dared to struggle against despotism at the time when he struggled in vain, there was no honour on earth.—Victorious tyranny marked the front of virtue with the brand of a criminal.

Even when an existing "authority" was mere violence worse than that of a pirate, to have opposed it unsuccessfully was sufficient to ensure the disapproval of all who held any authority. The People indeed never failed to console the outcast by its sympathy, but Authority felt no such sympathy, and rather regarded this very sympathy as a dangerous symptom of anarchy.

When the idea of justice is thus perverted—when virtue is thus deprived of its fair renown, and honour is thus attacked—when success like that of Louis Napoleon's is gained through connivance—all this becomes an immeasurable obstacle to the freedom of nations, which never yet was achieved but by a struggle,—a struggle, which success raised to the honour of a glorious revolution, but failure lowered to the reputation of a criminal outbreak.

Mr. President, I feel proud at the accident, that in my person public honours have been restored to that on which alone they ought to be bestowed—righteousness and a just cause; whereas, until now, honours were lavished only upon success. I consider this as a highly important fact, which cannot fail to encourage the resolution of devoted patriots, who, though not afraid of death, may be excused for recoiling before humiliation.

Senators, Representatives of Ohio, I thank you for it in the name of all who may yet suffer for having done the duty of a patriot. You may yet see many a man, who, out of your approbation, will draw encouragement to noble deeds; for there are many on earth ready to meet misfortune for a noble aim, but not so many ready to meet humiliation and indignity. Besides, in honouring me, you have approved what my nation has done. You have honoured all Hungary by it, and I pledge my word to you that we will yet do what you have approved. The approbation of our conscience we have—the sympathy of your generous people has met us—and it is no idle thing, that sympathy of the people of Ohio—it weighs as the sovereign will of two millions of freemen. You have added to it the sanction of your authority. Your people's sympathy you have framed into a law, sacred and sure in its consequences, on which humanity may rely.

But, sir, high though be the value of this noble approbation, it becomes an invaluable benefit to humanity by these resolutions by which the General Assembly of Ohio, acknowledging the justice of those principles which it is my mission to plead in my injured country's name, declares that the mighty and flourishing commonwealth of Ohio is resolved to resist the eternal laws of nations to their due sway, too long contemned by arbitrary power.

It was indeed a sorrowful sight to see how nations bled, and how freedom withered in the iron grasp of despotisms, leagued for universal oppression of humanity. It was a sorrowful sight to see that there was no power on earth ready to maintain those eternal laws, without which there is no security for any nation on earth. It was a sorrowful sight to see all nations isolating themselves in defence, while despots leagued in offence.

The view has changed. A bright lustre is spreading over the dark sky of humanity. The glorious galaxy of the United States rises upon oppressed nations, and the bloody star of despotism fading at your very declaration, will soon vanish from the sky like a meteor.

Legislators of Ohio, it may be flattering to ambitious vanity to act the part of an execrated conqueror, but it is a glory unparalleled in history to protect rights and freedom on earth. The time draws near, when, by virtue of such a declaration as yours, shared by your sister States, Europe's liberated nations will unite in a mighty choir of Hallelujahs, thanking God that his paternal cares have raised the United States to the glorious position of a first-born son of freedom on earth.

Washington prophesied, that within twenty years the Republic of the United States would be strong enough to defy any power on earth in a just cause. The State of Ohio was not yet born when the wisest of men and purest of patriots uttered that prophecy; and God the Almighty has made the prophecy true, by annexing, in a prodigiously short period, more stars to the proud constellation of your Republic, and increasing the lustre of every star more powerfully, than Washington could have anticipated in the brightest moments of his patriotic hopes.

Rejoice, O my nation, in thy very woes! Wipe off all thy tears, and smile amidst thy tortures, like the Dutch hero, De Wytt. There is a Providence which rules. Thou wast, O my nation, often the martyr, who by thy blood didst redeem the Christian nations on earth. Even thy present nameless woes are providential. They were necessary, that the star-spangled banner of America should rise over a new Sinai—the Mountain of Law for all nations. Thy sufferings were necessary, that the people of the United States, powerful by their freedom and free by the principle of national independence, that common right of all humanity, should stand up, a new Moses upon the new Sinai, and shout out with the thundering voice of its twenty-five millions—"Hear, ye despots of the world, henceforward this shall be law, in the name of the Lord your God and our God.

Ye shall not kill nations.

Ye shall not steal their freedom.

And ye shall not covet what is your neighbour's."

Ohio has given its vote by the resolutions I had the honour to hear. It is the vote of two millions, and it will have its constitutional weight in the councils of Washington City, where the delegates of the people's sovereignty find their glory in doing the people's will.

Sir, it will be a day of consolation and joy in Hungary, when my bleeding nation reads these resolutions, which I will send to her. They will flash over the gloomy land; and my nation, unbroken in courage, steady in resolution, and firm in confidence, will draw still more courage, more resolution from them, because it is well aware that the legislature of Ohio would never pledge a word to which the people of Ohio will not be true in case of need.

Sir, I regret that my illness has disabled me to express my fervent thanks in a manner more becoming to this Assembly's dignity. I beg to be excused for it; and humbly beg you to believe, that my nation for ever, and I for all my life, will cherish the memory of this benefit.

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XXVIII.—THE MISERIES AND THE STRENGTH OF HUNGARY.

[Columbus, Feb. 7th, to the Association of Friends of Hungary.]

On Feb. 7th was held the first regular meeting of the Ohio Association of the Friends of Hungary, in the City Hall of Columbus. Governor Wood addressed the Association, as its President; and in the course of his speech said:—

This is a cause in which the people of the United States feel much interest. Much has been said on the doctrine of intervention and non-intervention. There was a time when if I ventured to speak a word on any question in this State it was received with authority. The opinions I now express have been formed with the same deliberation as those I expressed with authority in another capacity. There has seemed to be a combined effort on the part of despots in Europe to put down free institutions. It is the duty of freemen to oppose this effort—to resist the principle that every civic community has not a right to regulate its own affairs. Whenever one nation interferes with the internal concerns of another, it is a direct insult to all other nations.

There is a combined effort in Continental Europe to overthrow all free and liberal institutions. This accomplished, what next?—The efforts of tyrants will be directed to our institutions. It will be their aim to break us down. Must not we prevent this event—peaceably if we can—forcibly if we must? No power will prevail with tyrants and usurpers but the power of gunpowder or steel.

Kossuth in reply, turning to Governor Wood, said: Before addressing the assembly, I humbly entreat your excellency to permit me to express, out of the very heart of my heart, my gratitude and fervent thanks for those lofty, generous principles which you have been pleased now to pronounce. I know those principles would have immense value even if they were only an individual opinion; but when they are expressed by him who is the elect of the people of Ohio, they doubly, manifoldly increase in weight.

The restoration of Hungary to its national independence is my aim, to which I the more cheerfully devote my life, because I know that my nation, once master of its own destiny, can make no other choice, in the regulation of its institutions and of its government, than that of a Republic founded upon democracy and the great principle of municipal self-government, without which, as opposed to centralization, there is no practical freedom possible.

Other nations enjoying a comparatively tolerable condition under their existing governments—though aware of their imperfections, may shrink from a revolution of which they cannot anticipate the issue, while they know that in every case it is attended with great sacrifices and great sufferings for the generation which undertakes the hazard of the change. But that is not the condition of Hungary. My poor native land is in such a condition that all the horrors of a revolution, when without the hopes of happiness to be gained by it, are preferable to what it lives to endure now. The very life on a bloody battle-field, where every whistling musket-ball may bring death—affords more security, more ease, and is less alarming than that life which the people of Hungary has to suffer now. We have seen many a sorrowful day in our past, We have been by our geographical position, destined as the breakwater against every great misfortune, which in former centuries rushed over Europe from the East. It is not only the Turks, when they were yet a dangerous, conquering race, which my nation had to stay, by wading to the very lips in its own heroic blood. No. The still more terrible invasion of Batu Khan's (the Mongol) raging millions, poured down over Europe from the Steppes of Tartary,—who came not to conquer but to destroy, and therefore spared not nature, not men, not the child in its mother's womb. It was Hungary which had to stay its flood from devouring the rest of Europe. Nevertheless, all which Hungary has ever suffered is far less than it has to suffer now from the tyrant of Austria, himself in his turn nothing but the slave of ambitious Russia.

Oh! it is a fair, beautiful land, my beloved country, rich in nature's blessings as perhaps no land is rich on earth. When the spring has strewn its blossoms over it, it looks as the garden of Eden may have looked, and when the summer ripens nature's ocean of crops over its hills and plains, it looks like a table dressed for mankind by the Lord himself; and still it was here in Columbus that I read the news that a terrible dearth, that famine is spreading over the rich and fertile land. How should it not? Where life-draining oppression weighs so heavily, that the landowner offers the use of all his lands to the government, merely to get free from the taxation—where the vintager cuts down his vineyards and the gardener his orchard, and the farmer burns his tobacco seed to be rid of the duties, and their vexations—there of course must dearth prevail, and famine raise its hideous head. Yet the tyrant adds calumny to oppression, by attributing the dearth to a want of industry, after having created it by oppression. There exists no personal security of property. Nor is the verdict "not guilty," when pronounced by an Austrian court, sufficient to ensure security against prison, nay, against death by the executioner—through a new trial ordered to find a man guilty at any price. Poor Louis Bathyanyi was thus treated. Even now persecution is going on—hundreds are arrested secretly and sent to prison and their property confiscated, though they were already acquitted by the very Haynaus. Even to whisper that a man or woman was arrested in the night is considered a crime, and punished by prison, or if the whisperer be a young man, by sending him to the army, there to taste, when he dares to frown, the corporal's stick. No man knows what is forbidden, what not, because there exists no law but the arbitrary will of martial courts—no protecting institution—no public life—free speech forbidden—the press fettered—complaint a crime,—When we consider all this, indeed it is not possible not to arrive at the conviction, that, come what may, a new war of revolution in Hungary is not a matter of choice, but a matter of unavoidable necessity, because all that may come is not by far so terrible as that which is!

But I am often asked,—"What hope has Hungary should she rise again?" Pardon me, gentlemen, for saying, that I cannot forbear to be surprized as often as I hear this question. Why! The Emperor of Austria, fresh with his bloody victories over Italy, Vienna, Lemberg, Prague, attacked us in the fulness of his power, when we had no expectation, and were least in the world prepared to meet it. We were assaulted on several sides; our fortresses were in the hands of traitors, we had as yet no army at all. We were secluded from all the world—forsaken by all the world—without money—without arms—without ammunition—without friends—having nothing for us but the justice of our cause and the people burning with patriotism—men who went to the battlefield almost without knowing how to cock their guns; but still, within less than six months, we beat all the force of Austria,—we crushed it to the dust, and in despair, the proud tyrant fled to the feet of the Czar, begging his assistance for his sacrilegious purpose, and paying him by the sacrifice of honour, independence, and all his future!

In contemplating these facts, who can doubt that we are now a match for Austria. Then we had no army—now we have 120,000 brave Magyars, who fought for freedom and motherland, enlisted in the ranks of Austria, forming their weakness and our strength. Then hostile nations were opposed to us, now they are friendly, and are with us. Then no combination existed between the oppressed nations—now the combination exists. Then our oppressor took his own time to strike—when he was best and we were worst prepared:—now we will take our time and strike the blow when it is best for us and worst for him. In a word, then every chance was against us, and we almost in a condition that the stoutest hearts faltered; and we only took up the gauntlet because our very soul revolted against the boundless treachery;—now every chance is for us, and it is the native which throws the gauntlet into the tyrant's face. Our very misfortune ensures our success—because then we had some something to lose, now we have nothing. We can only gain—for I defy the sophistry of despotism to invent anything of public or private oppression which is not already inflicted upon us.

But I was upon the question of success.—When I moot that question—upon what reposes the success of Hungary, it always occurs to my mind that the last Administration of the United States sent a gentleman over to Europe during the Hungarian struggle, not with orders to recognize the independence of Hungary, but just to look to what chance of success we had. Now, suppose that the United States, taking into consideration the right of every nation to dispose of itself, and true to that policy which it has always followed to take established facts as they are, and not to investigate what chances there might or might not be for the future, but always recognize every new Government everywhere—suppose that it had sent that gentleman with such an instruction to Hungary: what would have been the consequence? If the government of Hungary which existed then and indeed existed very actively, for it had created armies, had beaten Austria, and driven her last soldier from Hungarian territory,—If that government had been recognized by the United States, of course commercial intercourse with the United States, in every respect, would have been lawful, according to your existing international laws. The Emperor of Austria, the Czar of Russia, because they are recognized powers, have full liberty to buy your cannons, gunpowder, muskets—everything. That would have been the case with Hungary. That legitimate commerce with the people of the United States with Hungary, of course would have been protected by the navy of the United States in the Mediterranean. Now, men we had enough—but arms we had none. That would have given us arms, and having beaten Austria already, we would have beaten Russia, and I, instead of having now the honour of addressing you here, would perhaps have dictated a peace in Moscow. But the gentleman was sent to investigate the chances of success. Upon his investigation Hungary perished.

Let me entreat you, friends of Hungary, do not much hesitate about success. While Rome deliberated, Saguntum fell. I fear that by too long investigating what chances we have, the chances of success will be compromised, which by speedy help could have been ensured.

Well, I am answered—"there is no doubt about it.—Hungary is a match for Austria. You have beaten Austria, it is true; but Russia—there is the rub." Precisely, because there is the rub, I come to the United States, relying upon the fundamental principles of your great Republic, to claim the protection and maintenance of the law of nations against the armed interference of Russia.

That is precisely what I claim. That accorded, no intervention of Russia can take place; the word of America will be respected, not out of consideration for your dignity, but because the Czar and the cabinet of Russia, atrocious and unprincipled as they are, are no fools, and will not risk their existence. Therefore your word will be respected.

You have an act of Congress, passed in 1818, by which the people of the United States are forbidden by law to take any hostile steps against a power with which the United States are at amity. Well, suppose Congress pronounces such a resolution—that in respect to any power which violates the laws of nations we recall this neutrality law and give full liberty to follow its own will. (Applause.) Now, in declaring this, Congress has prevented a war, because it has been pointed out to the people in what way that pronunciation of the law of nations is to be supported, and the enterprizing spirit of the people of the United States is too well known as its sympathy for the cause of Hungary is too decidedly expressed, not to impart a conviction to the Czar of Russia that though the United States do not wish to go to war, so the law of nations will be enforced, peaceably if possible (turning to Governor Wood) forcibly if necessary.

But as I again and again meet the doubt whether your protest even with such sanction will be respected, I farther answer—let me entreat you to try. It costs nothing. You are not bound to go farther than you will;—try. Perhaps it will be respected, and if it be, humanity is rescued, and freedom on earth reigns where despotism now rules. It is worth a trial.

Besides, I beg to remind you of my second and third requests, either of which might bring a practical solution of this doubt. At present, whoever will may sell arms to Austria, but you forbid your own citizens to sell arms to Hungary; and this, though the rule of Austria has no legitimate basis, but rests on unjust force; while you have avowed the cause of Hungary to be just. Such a state of your law is not neutrality, and is not righteous towards us nor is it fair towards your own people. If Venice were to-day to shake off the yoke of Austria, Austria will forthwith forbid all of you to buy and sell with Venice. Well: I say that is not fair towards your own citizens, any more than to the Venetians. True; you have not the right to open any market by force, towards a nation which is unwilling to deal with you, but you have a clear right to deal with one which desires it, in spite of any belligerent who chooses to forbid you. How could the fact of Hungary or Venice rising up against their oppressor justify Austria in damaging the lawful commerce of America with those nations? On this turns my second principle, which I consider of high importance for the coming struggle; that the United States would declare their resolve to uphold their commercial intercourse with every nation which is ready to accept it.

Thirdly, I claimed that you would recognize the Hungarian Declaration of Independence as having been legitimate. My enemies have misrepresented this, as if I desired to be recognized as de facto the Governor of Hungary. This is mere absurdity. That is not the question—am I governor or not governor? The question is—was the Declaration of Independence of Hungary, in the judgment of the people of the United States, a legitimate one, to which my nation had a right—or was it not? I believe America cannot answer no, because your very existence rests on a similar act. And if that declaration is made, what will be the consequence of it? What will be the practical result? Why, that very moment when I or whoever else, upon the basis of this declaration, recognized to be legitimate by your republic, shall take a stake upon Hungarian independence, and issue a proclamation declaring that a national government exists, that very moment the existence of the government will be recognized, and the gentleman who will be sent to Europe will not be sent to investigate what chances we have of success, but into what diplomatic relation we shall come. And what will be the consequence? A legitimate commercial intercourse of America. Then I can fit out men of war—steamers and everything—and your laws will not prevent me. The government of Hungary will then be a friendly power, and therefore according to your laws everything might be done for the benefit of my country—and who knows what a benefit it might secure to yourselves?

As regards my use of any pecuniary aids, I declare that I will respect the laws of every nation where I have the honour even temporarily to be. I will employ that aid, which the friends of Hungary may place at my disposal, for the benefit of my country, to be sure, but only in such a way as is not forbidden by, or contrary to, your laws. Now, to make an armed expedition against a friendly power—that is forbidden. But if Hungary rises upon the basis of a recognized, legitimate independence, then what is necessary for it to prepare for coming into that position is lawful. I have taken the advice of the highest authorities in that respect. I was not so bold as to become the interpreter of your laws, but I have asked, Is that lawful, or is it not? from the highest authorities in law matters of the United States.

Now to return to Hungary. In what condition is it! In the beginning of my talking I mentioned the invasion of Tartarian hordes. Then the wild beasts spread over the land, and caused the few remnants of the people to take refuge in some castles, and fortresses, and fortified places and in the most remote and sterile ground. The wild beasts fed on human blood. Now again the wild beasts are spreading terribly; and why? Because to have a single pistol, to have a sword, or a musket, is a crime which is punished by several years' imprisonment. Such is now the condition of Hungary! Therefore, you may now see that the country is disarmed, and of what importance is it for that success, about which I hear now and then doubts, to have arms prepared in a convenient lawful manner.

[After this, Kossuth spoke in some detail concerning the pecuniary contributions; and closed with complaints of his painfully over-worked chest, which had much impeded his speech.]

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XXIX.—OHIO AND FRANCE CONTRASTED AS REPUBLICS.

[Reception at Cincinnati.]

Kossuth having been received by a vast assemblage of the people of Cincinnati was addressed in their name by the Honourable Caleb Smith, from whose speech the following are extracts:—

Your progress through a portion of the whole States which originally constituted the American confederacy, has called forth such manifestations of public feeling as leave no doubt that the liberty enjoyed by the people of those States, has created in their hearts a generous sympathy for the advocates of civil liberty who have endeavoured to establish free institutions in Europe.

The brilliant success which attended the first efforts of the Hungarian
Patriots, excited the hope that the tricoloured flag unfurled on the
shores of the Danube, would, like the stars and stripes of our own
Republic, become the emblem and the hope of freedom.

The intervention of Russia, in violation of the law of nations, in defiance of justice and right, and in disregard of the public sentiment of the civilized world, for a time, at last, disappointed this hope; and the exultation it excited was followed by a mournful sadness, when Russian arms and domestic treason combined, caused the Hungarian flag to trail in the dust.

Hungary failed to establish her independence, but failed only, when success was impossible. The efforts she has made have not been wholly lost. The seed which she has sown in agony and blood, will yet sprout and bring forth fruit. The memory of her devoted sons who have fallen in the cause of liberty, will be perpetuated upon the living tablets of the hearts of freedom's votaries throughout the world. The spirits of the martyrs shall whisper hope and consolation to the hearts of her surviving children; and from out the dungeons of her captive patriots shall go forth the spirit of liberty to cheer and animate their countrymen.

You are engaged in a high and holy mission. The redemption of your fatherland from oppression is worthy of your efforts, and may God prosper them; and may you find in this free land such sympathy and aid as will strengthen your heart for the stern trials which await you in your own country.

Kossuth replied:—

Sir,—Before I answer you, let me look over this animated ocean, that I may impress upon my memory the look of those who have transformed the wilderness of a primitive forest into an immense city, of which there exists a prediction that, by the year of our Lord 2000, it will be the greatest city in the world.

"The West! the West! the region of the Father of Rivers," there thou canst see the cradle of a new-born humanity. So I was told by the learned expounders of descriptive geography, who believe that they know the world, because they have seen it on maps.

The West a cradle! Why? A cradle is the sleeping place of a child wrapped in swaddling clothes and crying for the mother's milk.

People of Cincinnati, are you that child which, awakening in an unwatched moment, liberated his tender hands from the swaddling band, swept away by his left arm the primitive forest planted by the Lord at creation's dawn, and raised by his right hand this mighty metropolis. Why, if that be your childhood's pastime, I am awed by the presentiment of your manhood's task; for it is written, that it is forbidden to men to approach too near to omnipotence. And that people here which created this rich city, and changed the native woods of the red man into a flourishing seat of Christian civilization and civilized Christianity—into a living workshop of science and art, of industry and widely spread commerce; and performed this change, not like the drop, which, by falling incessantly through centuries, digs a gulf where a mountain stood, but performed it suddenly within the turn of the hand, like a magician; that people achieved a prouder work than the giants of old, who dared to pile Ossa upon Pelion; but excuse me, the comparison is bad.

Those giants of old heaped mountain upon mountain, with the impious design to storm the heavens. You have transformed the wilderness of the West into the dwelling-place of an enlightened, industrious, intelligent Christian community, that it may flourish a living monument of the wonderful bounty of Divine Providence—a temple of freedom, which glorifies God, and bids oppressed humanity to hope.

And yet, when I look at you, citizens of Cincinnati, I see no race of giants, astonishing by uncommon frame: I see men as I am wont to see all my life, and I have lived almost long enough to have seen Cincinnati a small hamlet, composed of some modest log-houses, separated by dense woods, where savage beast and savage Indian lurked about the lonely settlers, who, as the legend of Jacob Wetzel and his faithful log tells, had to wrestle for life when they left their poor abode.

What is the key of this rapid wonderful change? The glorious cities of old were founded by heroes whom posterity called demi-gods, and whose name survived their work by thousands of years. Who is your hero? Who stood god-father at the birth of the Queen of the West?

I looked to history and found not his name. But instead of one mortal man's renowned name, I find in the records of your city's history an immortal being's name, and that is, the people. The word sparkles with the lustre of a life invigorating flame, and that flame is LIBERTY. Freedom, regulated by wise institutions, based upon the great principle of national independence and self-government; this is the magical rod by which the great enchanter, "the people," has achieved this wonderful work.

Sir, there is a mighty change going on in human development. Formerly great things were done by great men, whose names stand in history like milestones, marking the march of mankind on the highway of progress. It was mankind which marched, and still it passed unnoticed and unknown. Of him history has made no record, but of the milestones only, and has called them great men. The lofty frame of individual greatness overshadowed the people, who were ready to follow but not prepared to go without being led. Humanity and its progress was absorbed by individualities; because the people which stood low in the valley got giddy by looking up to the mountain's top, where its leaders stood. It was the age of childhood for nations. Children cling to the leading strings as to a necessity, and feel it a benefit to be led.

But the leaders of nations changed soon into kings. Ambition claimed as a right what merit had gained as a free offering. Arrogance succeeded to greatness; and out of the child-like attachment for benefits received, the duty of blind obedience was framed by the iron hand of violence, and by the craft of impious hypocrisy, degrading everything held for holy by men—religion itself—into a tool of oppression on earth. It was the era of uncontroverted despotism, which, with sacrilegious arrogance, claimed the title of divine rank; and mankind advanced slowly in progress, because it was not conscious of its own aim. Oppression was taken for a gloomy fatality.

The scene has changed. Nations have become conscious of their rights and destiny, and will tolerate no masters, nor will suffer oppression any longer. The spirit of freedom moves through the air; and remember, that you are morally somewhat responsible for it, inasmuch as it is your glorious struggle for independence which was the first upheaving of mankind's heart roused to self-conscious life. Even by that first effort she gloriously achieved the national independence of America. Though gifted with all the blessings of nature's virginal vitality, you would never have succeeded to achieve this wonderful growth which we see, if you had employed your conquered national independence merely to take a new master for the old one.

And mark well, gentlemen! a nation may have a master even if it has no king—a nation may be called a republic, and yet be not free—Wherever centralization exists, there the nation has either sold or lent, either alienated or delegated its sovereignty; and wherever this is done, the nation has a master—and he who has a master is of course not his own master. Power may be centralized in many—the centralization by and by will be concentrated in few, as in ancient Venice, or in one, as in France at the time of the "Uncle," some forty years ago, and again in France, now that the "Nephew" has his bloody reign for a day.

Yes, gentlemen, if that generation of devoted patriots who achieved the Independence of the United States, had merely changed the old master for a new one with the name of an Emperor or a King, or of an omnipotent President, your country were now just something like Brazil or Mexico, or the Republic of South America, all of them independent, as you know, and all except Brazil even Republics, and all rich with nature's blessings, and offering a new home to those who fly from the oppression of the Old World—and yet all of them old before they were young, and decrepit before they were strong. Had the founders of your country's Independence followed this direction which led the rest of America astray, Cincinnati would be a hamlet yet as it was in Jacob Wetzel's time; and Ohio, instead of being a first-rate star in the constellation of your Republic, would be an appendage of neighbouring Eastern States—a not yet explored desert, marked in the map of America only by lines of northern latitude and western longitude.

The people, a real sovereign; your institutions securing real freedom, because founded on the principles of self-government; union to secure national independence and the position of a power on earth; and all together, having no master but God; omnipotence not vested in any man, in any assembly,—and an open field to every honest exertion—because civil, political, and religious liberty is the common benefit to all, not limited but by itself (that is, by the unseen, but not unfelt, influence of self-given law); that is the key of the living wonder which spreads before my eyes.

Let me recall to your memory a curious fact. It is just a hundred years ago, that the first trading house upon the Great Miami was built by daring English adventurers, at a place later known as Laramie's Store, then the territory of the Twigtwee Indians. The trade house was destroyed by Frenchmen, who possessed then a whole world on the continent of America. Well, twenty-four years later, France aided your America in its struggle for independence; and oh! feel not offended in your proud power of to-day, when I say that independence would not then have been achieved without the aid of France.

Since that time, France has been twice a Republic, and changed its constitutions thirteen times; and, though thirty-six millions strong, it has lost every foot of land on the continent of America, and at home it lies prostrated beneath the feet of the most inglorious usurper that ever dared to raise ambition's bloody seat upon the ruins of liberty. And your Republic? It has grown a giant of power. And Ohio? out of the ruins of a trading-house into a mighty commonwealth of two millions of free and happy men, who shout out with a voice like the thunderstorm, to the despots of the Old World, "ye shall stop in your ambitious way before the power of freedom, ready to protect the common laws of all humanity."

What a glorious triumph of your institutions over the principles of
CENTRALIZED government!

Oh! may all the generations yet unborn, and all the millions who will yet gather in this New World of the West, which soon will preponderate in the scale of the Union, where all the west weighed nothing fifty years ago—may they all ever and ever remember the high instruction which the Almighty has revealed in this parallel of different results.

Sir, you say that Ohio can show no battle field connected with recollections of your own glorious revolution. Let me answer, that the whole West is a monument, and Cincinnati the fair cornice of it. If your eastern sister States have instructed the world how nations become independent and free, the West shows to the world what a nation once independent and really free can become.

Allow me to declare, that by standing before the world as such an instructive example, you exercise the most effective revolutionary propaganda; for if the mis-result of French revolutions discourage the nations from shaking off the 'oppressors' yoke, your victory,—and still more, your unparalleled prosperity,—has encouraged oppressed nations to dare what you dared.

Egotists and hypocrites may say that you are not responsible for it; you have bid nobody to follow you:—and it may be true that you are not responsible before a tribunal. Still, you are sufficiently free not to feel offended by a true word; therefore I say you are responsible before your own conscience, for, your example having started a new doctrine, the teacher of a new doctrine is morally bound not to forsake his doctrine when assailed in the person of his disciples.

* * * * *

XXX.—WAR A PROVIDENTIAL NECESSITY AGAINST OPPRESSION.

[To the Clergy of Cincinnati.]

The clergy of Cincinnati addressed Kossuth by the mouth of the Rev. Mr.
Fisher. Among other topics, this gentleman said:—

We wish to you first, and through you, to the world, to express our respect for those heroic clergymen who dared to offer public prayers to Almighty God for the success of your arms. We have not forgotten the manner in which Austria attempted to dragoon their tongues into silence, and their souls into abject submission. Nor can we believe that a country with such pastors—that a country whose religious interests are confided to men ready to pray against the Despot, will be suffered by our heavenly Father to remain trodden down, and to have her name blotted out of the history of nations. If in the great battle of freedom, the heart of the minister of religion at the Altar, beats in sympathy with the heart of the minister at the Council Board, and the soldier in the battle-field, there is then a union of the moral, intellectual, and physical forces of a nation, which we have been taught to believe would generally and ultimately be victorious.

We frankly confess to you that our hope that Hungary is not to share the fate of unhappy Poland, is grounded first on the large element of a Protestant ministry she embraces, and secondly on the advance which the nations are making in a true understanding of the principles of republican freedom. We believe the cause of Hungary to be just. Against the usurpations of Kings and perjured Princes—against the interference of foreign powers to assist in treading on the sparks of liberty anywhere on the earth, and especially in such a land as yours, we claim the privilege at the fit time of entering our protest and expressing toward such acts our deepest abhorrence. And while we desire most earnestly the advent of universal peace, and rejoice that the power of moral principles is increasing in the world, and anticipate the day when the nations shall learn war no more, yet we are fully convinced, both from the Holy Scriptures and the history of the past, that under the overruling providence of God wars occasioned by the oppression, the ambition, and the covetousness of men, are often the means of breaking up the stagnant waters of superstition and irreligion, and securing to the truth a position from which it may most successfully send abroad its light, and mould the heart of a nation to religion and peace. Despotism is in our view a perpetual war of a few upon the many; and we must unlearn some of the earliest lessons that our mothers taught us and our fathers illustrated in their lives, before we can cease to sympathize with the assertors of their rights against the force or the fraud of their fellow-men. And since the sad issue of revolution after revolution in infidel France, there are not a few of us, who have indulged the hope (especially since your visit to our shores), that in central Europe, in your native land, among an undebauched and a Bible-reading people, a government might arise that would accord freedom of conscience to all, and shine as a light of virtuous republicanism upon the darkness around.

In meeting you thus we design no mere display, no ineffective parade of words. We wish to give whatever weight of influence we may bear in this community, to the cause of freedom in your native land, to assist in securing to you and your nation, such aid as a nation situated as we are can wisely give, so as best to subserve the interests of liberty and humanity in all the world. We regard the moral influence of this country as of the first importance; and the peaceful working of republican institutions as a daily protest against despotism. And for ourselves we pledge to you and your country, that we will, in public and private, bear your cause upon our hearts, and invoke in your behalf, the intervention of an arm that no earthly power can resist.

Kossuth replied at length. The following is an extract from his speech:—

You have been pleased to refer to war as, under certain circumstances, an instrumentality of Divine Providence—and indeed so it is. Great things depend upon the exact definition of a word. There is, I suppose, nobody on earth who takes war for a moral or happy condition. Every man must wish peace; but peace must not be confounded with oppression. It is our duty, I believe, to follow the historical advice of the Scriptures, which very often have pointed out war as an instrumentality against oppression and injustice.

You have very truly said that despotism is a continued war of the few against the many, of ambition against mankind. Now if that be true—(and true it is—for war is nothing else than an appeal to force)—then how can any persons claim of oppressed nations not to resort to war? Who makes war? those who defend themselves? or those who attack others? Now if it be true that despotism is a continued attack upon mankind, then war comes from that quarter, and I have no where in the world heard that an unjust attack should not be opposed by a just defence. It is absurd to entreat nations not to disturb a peace which does not exist. What would have become of Christianity in Europe (and in further consequence, also in America), if in those times, when Mohammedanism was yet a conquering power, Hungary out of love of peace had not opposed Mohammedanism in defence of Christianity? What would have become of Protestantism when assailed by Charles V, by Philip II, and others? Did Luther or others forbid the use of arms against arms, to protect for men the right of private judgment in matters of salvation. I have seen war. I know what an immense machine it is. What an immense misfortune and with what sufferings it is connected. Believe me, there is no nation which loves war, but many that fear war less than they hate oppression, which prevents both their happiness on earth and the development of private judgment for salvation in eternity.

You have been pleased to assure me that you take the cause of Hungary for a just cause. I most respectfully thank you for it. I consider your judgment of immense value in that respect. Why? Because you are too deeply penetrated by the sacred mission to which you have devoted your lives, ever to approve anything which you would not consider consistent and in harmony with your position as ministers of the gospel; and therefore when you give me the verdict of justice for the cause of Hungary, I take your approbation as a sanction from the principles of the Christian religion.

Let me therefore entreat you, gentlemen, to bestow your action, your prayers, and that which in the gospel is connected with prayers—watchfulness, upon my country's cause. It is not without design that I mention this word watchfulness; for it would be not appropriate for me to speak any word which might excite mere passion. I rely upon principles in their plainness, and make no appeal to blind excitement; but I venture to throw out the hint, that in certain quarters even the word religion is employed as a tool against that cause which you pronounce to be just; and therefore I may be permitted to claim from ministers of Christ—from Protestant clergymen—from American Protestant clergymen, that they will not only pray for that cause, but also be watchful against that abuse of religion for the oppression of a just cause.

You have farther stated that as American clergymen, you entertain the conviction that a free Gospel can only be permanently enjoyed under a free civil government. Now what is free Gospel? The trumpet of the Gospel is of course sounded from the moral influence of the truths, which are deposited by Divine Providence in the holy Scriptures. No influence can be more powerful than that of the truth which God himself has revealed, and nevertheless you say, that for permanent enjoyment of this moral influence, the field of free civil government is necessary. So it is. Now, let me make the application of these very truths in respect to the moral institutions of your country. I entirely trust that all other institutions which we know now will by and bye disappear before the moral influence of your institutions, as is proved by the wonderful development of this country—but under one condition, that the nations be restored to national independence: since, so long as absolutist power rules the world, there is no place, no field for the moral influence of your institutions. Precisely as the moral influence of the Gospel cannot spread without a free civil government, so the influence of your institutions can spread only upon the basis of national independence, as a common benefit to every nation.

You will, I hope, generously excuse me for having answered your generous sentiments in such a plain manner. My indisposition has given me no time to prepare for the honour of meeting you in such a way as I would have wished. You have given joy, consolation, and hope to my heart, and encouragement to go on in that way which you honour with your welcome and your sympathy; and I shall thank this your generosity in the most effective manner, by following your advice and by further using those exertions which have met your approbation.

* * * * *

XXXI.—ON WASHINGTON'S POLICY.

[Speech on the Anniversary of Washington's Birthday, Cincinnati.]

A splendid entertainment was prepared, to which six hundred persons sat down. After the toasts many energetic speeches were made. Mr. Corry said:—

The time has come for our mighty Republic to stand by its friends and brave its enemies. There is a confederation of tyrants now marching across the cinders of Europe. Are we to take no heed of their aggressions at our doors? It is for us to aid the people of the old world against their tyrants, as we were aided to get rid of ours. Ohio will not fail in her duty.

The president of the evening, Mr. James J. Foran, observed:—

In 1849 we held in this city the first meeting, I believe, in the United States on this subject, and expressed our indignation at the unwarrantable interference of Russia. We declared it to be our duty, as a free and powerful government, to notify to Russia, that her interference in the affairs of Hungary must cease, or the United States would cast their strength on the side of justice and right against tyranny and oppression…. In the great struggle which is approaching between liberty and absolutism we shall be compelled to act a part. It will not do to rely altogether on either a just cause or the interposition of Providence. It is well to have both of these; but to add to them our own exertions, is indispensable to human success.

Here, "in the wilderness," in the bosom of the Great West, in the city of one hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants, whence emanated the first public move in America for his personal cause, and also his liberation from captivity, do we welcome Louis Kossuth, the champion of self-government in Europe.

Kossuth in response said:—

Mr. President: I consider it a particular favour of Providence that I am permitted to partake, on the present solemn occasion, in paying the tribute of honour and gratitude to the memory of your immortal Washington.

An architect having raised a proud and noble building to the service of the Almighty, his admirers desired to erect a monument to his memory. How was it done? His name was inscribed upon the wall, with these additional words: "You seek his monument—look around."

Let him who looks for a monument of Washington, look around the United States. The whole country is a monument to him. Your freedom, your independence, your national power, your prosperity, and your prodigious growth, is a monument to Washington.

There is no room left for panegyric, none especially to a stranger whom you had full reason to charge with arrogance, were he able to believe that his feeble voice could claim to be noticed in the mighty harmony of a nation's praise. Let me therefore, instead of such an arrogant attempt, pray that that GOD, to whose providential intentions Washington was a glorious instrument, may impart to the people of the United States the same wisdom for the conservation of the present prosperity of the land and for its future security which he gave to Washington for the foundation of it.

Allow me, sir, to add, Washington's wisdom consisted in doing all which, according to the circumstances of his time and the condition of his country, was necessary to his country's freedom, independence, welfare, glory, and future security. I pray to God that the people of this Republic, and all those whom the people's confidence has entrusted with the honourable charge of directing the helm of the commonwealth, may be endowed with the same wisdom of doing all which present circumstances and the present condition of your country point out to be not only consistent with but necessary to your country's present glory, present prosperity, and future security.

Surely, that is the fittest tribute to the memory of Washington, that is the most faithful adherence to the doctrine which he bequeathed to you, by far a better tribute, and by far a more faithful adherence, than to do, literally, the same that he did, amid circumstances quite different from those you are now surrounded with, and in a condition entirely different from that in which you and the world are now.

The principles of Washington are for ever true, and should for ever be the guiding star to the United States. But to imitate literally the accidental policy of Washington, would be to violate his principles. If the spirit of Washington could raise its voice now, in this distinguished circle of American patriots, it would loudly and emphatically protest against such a course, and would denounce it as not only injurious to his memory, but also as dangerous to the future of this Republic which he founded with such eminent wisdom and glorious success.

I have seen, sir, the people of the United States advised to regard the writings of Washington as the Mahommedan regards the Koran, considering everything which is not to be found in the Koran as useless to heed. Now this parallel I, indeed, take for a very curious compliment to the memory of Washington—a compliment at which his immortal spirit must feel offended, I am sure.

Why? to what purpose is the immortal light of Heaven beaming in man's mind, if it be wise not to make any use of it? To what purpose all that assiduous care about public instruction, and about the propagation of knowledge and intelligence, if the writings of Washington are the Koran of America; forbidding the right of private judgment, which the great majority of your nation claim as a natural right, even in respect to the Holy Bible, that book of Divine origin? Look to the east where the Koran rules, obstructing with its absolutism the development of human intellect: what do you behold there? You behold mighty nations, a noble race of men, interesting in many respects, teeming with germs of vitality, and still falling fast into decay, because doomed to stagnation of their intelligence by that blind faith in their Koran's absolute perfection, which we see recommended as a model to the people of this Republic, whose very existence rests on progress.

Indeed, gentlemen, I dare to say that I yield to nobody in the world, in reverence and respect to the immortal memory of Washington. His life and his principles were the guiding star of my life; to that star I looked up for inspiration and advice, during the vicissitudes of my stormy life. Hence I drew that devotion to my country and to the cause of national freedom, which you, gentlemen, and millions of your fellow-citizens and your national government, are so kind as to honour by unexampled distinction, though you meet it not brightened by success, but meet it in the gloomy night of my existence, in that helpless condition of a homeless wanderer, in which I must patiently bear the title of an "imported rebel" and of a "beggar" in the very land of Washington, for having dared to do what Washington did; for having dared to do it with less skill and with less success, but, Heaven knows, not with less honesty and devotion than he did.

Well, it is useless to remark that Washington would probably have ended with equal failure, had his country not met that foreign aid for which they honourably begged. It is useless to remark that he would undoubtedly have failed, if after the glorious battle of Yorktown he had met a fresh enemy of more than two hundred thousand men, such as we met, and had been forsaken in that new struggle by all the world. It is useless to remark that success should not be the only test of virtue on earth, and fortune should not change the devotion of a patriot into an outrage and a crime; and particularly not, when success is only torn out of the hands of patriotism by foreign violence, and by the most sacrilegious infraction of the common laws of all humanity. All this is useless to say. I must bear many things—must bear even malignity—but can bear it more easily, because against the insult of some who plead the cause of despots in your republic, I have for consolation the tranquillity of my conscience, the love of my countrymen, the approbation of generous friends, and the sympathy of millions in that very land where I meet the title of an "imported rebel."

I was saying, sir, that I yield to no man on earth in reverence to the memory of the immortal WASHINGTON! Indeed, I consider it not inconsistent with this reverence to say: Never let past ages bind the life of future;—let no man's wisdom be Koran to you, dooming progress to stagnation, and judgment to the meagre task of a mere rehearsing memory.

Thus I would speak, should even that which I advocate, be contrary to what Washington taught—even then I would appeal from the thoughts of a man, to the spirit of advanced mankind, and from the eighteenth century to the present age.

But fortunately I am not in that necessity; what I advocate is not only not in contradiction, but in strict harmony with Washington's principles, so much so that I have nothing else to wish than that Washington's doctrine should be quoted fairly as a system, and not by picking out single words, and concealing that which gives the interpretation to these words.

Indeed I can wish nothing more than that the principles of Washington should be followed. And I may also be permitted to say, that not every word of Washington is a principle, and that what he recommended as a policy according to the exigencies of his time, he never intended to recommend as a rule for ever to be followed even in such circumstances which he, with all his wisdom, could neither foresee nor imagine. And I may be perhaps permitted to wish the people of the United States should take for a truth, even in respect to the writings of Washington, what we are taught by the ministers of the Gospel in respect to the Holy Scriptures—that, by the discretion of private judgment, a distinction must be made between what is essential and what is not, between what is substantial and what is accidental, between what is a principle and what is but a history.

[Kossuth proceeded to argue concerning the just interpretation of
Washington's words, as in his New York speech; and continued:]

But what is the present condition upon the basis of which I humbly plead? Allow me, in answer, to quote the words of one of your most renowned statesmen, the present Secretary of State. You will find then, gentlemen, that every word he then spoke, is yet more true and more appropriate to-day.

"The holy alliance," says Mr. Webster, "is an alliance of crowns against the people—of sovereigns against their own subjects;—the union of the physical force of all governments against the rights of all people, in all countries. Its tendency is to put an end to all Nations as such. Extend the principles of that alliance, and the nations are no more. There are only kings. It divides society horizontally, and leaves the sovereigns above, and all the people below; it sets up the one above all rule, all restraint, and puts down the others to be trampled beneath our feet."

This is the condition of things to which I claim the attention of Republican America: moreover, for its own interest's alike, I claim its attention to the following words from the same statesman, worthy of the most earnest consideration precisely now-a-days to every American.

"The declaration of —— says: the powers have an undoubted right to take a hostile attitude in regard to those states in which the overthrow of the government may operate as an example."

Mark! oh! mark! gentlemen, how this abominable doctrine is carried out in Hungary, in Prussia, in Schleswig Holstein, and in Hesse Cassel.

Now, the American statesman proceeds to maintain, that every sovereign in Europe who goes to war to repress an example, is monstrous. Indeed, if this principle be allowed, what becomes of the United States? Are you not as legitimate objects for the operation of that principle as any we attempt to set an example on the other side of the Atlantic. You thought that when oppressed you might lawfully resist oppression. We, in Hungary, thought the same; but against us is that monstrous principle of armed intervention against setting up an example. So let me therefore ask with Mr. Webster: Are you so sick of your liberty and its effects, as to be willing to part with that doctrine upon which your very existence rests? Do you forget what you, as a people, owe to lawful resistance? and are you willing to abandon the law and rights of society to the mercy of the allied despots, who have united to crush them everywhere? Neutrality? Why, indeed, that would be a strange explanation of neutrality, if you would sanction by your indifference, the hostile alliance of all despots against republican, nay, against constitutional principles on earth.

But suppose Hungary rises once more to do what Washington did (and be sure it will), and Russia interferes again and you remain again (what some of you call) neutral—that is, you remain indifferent—what is the consequence? Czar Nicholas and Emperor Francis-Joseph may buy and carry away arms, ammunition, armed ships—nay, even armed sympathizers (if they find them)—to murder Hungary with and you will protect that commerce, and consider it a lawful one. But if I buy the same, you don't protect that commerce; and if I would enlist an "armed expedition," for what the Czar may do against Hungary, you would send me to prison for ten years.

Is that neutrality? The people of Hungary crushed by violence, shall be nothing, its sovereign right nothing; but the piracy of the Czar, encroaching upon the sacred rights of mine and many other nations, shall be regarded as legitimate, against which the United States, though grown to mighty power on earth, able without any risk of its own security to maintain the law of nations and the influence of its glorious example, should still have nothing to object, only because Washington, more than half a century ago, declared neutrality appropriate to the infant condition of his country then; and was anxious to gain time, that your country might settle and mature its recent institutions, and progress to that degree of strength, when it would be able to defy any power on earth in a just cause.

No, gentlemen, my principles may be rejected by the United States, but never will impartial history acknowledge that by doing thus the United States followed the principles of Washington. The ruling policy of Washington may be summed up in the word "national self-preservation," to which he, as the generous emotions of his noble breast prompted, was ever inclined to subordinate everything.

And he was right. Self-preservation must be the chief principle of every nation. But the means of this self-preservation are different in different times. To-day, I confidently dare state, the duty of self-preservation commends to the United States, not to allow that the principle of absolutism should become omnipotent by having a charter guaranteed to violate the laws of nature and of nature's God, which Washington and his heroic associates invoked, when they proclaimed the independence of this Republic.

A second principle of Washington, and precisely in regard to foreign nations, is, to extend your commercial relations. That is, again, a principle, gentlemen, which I boldly can invoke to the support of my humble claims; because if the league of despots becomes omnipotent in Europe, it is certain that the commerce of Republican America will very soon receive a death blow on the other side of the Atlantic; whereas, the maintenance of the law of nations, by affording a fair field to Hungary, Italy, and Germany, to settle their accounts with their own domestic oppressors, would open a vast field to your commercial relations, larger than imagination can conceive.

The third principle of Washington is to steer clear of permanent alliances with any portion of the foreign world. Well, sir, I do not solicit alliances; I solicit the maintenance of the laws of nations, that the unholy alliance of despots may not interfere with the natural right of nations, upon which yourselves have established the lofty hall of your national independence.

It is on the stream of these rights that you are borne on in a rapid and irresistible course of prosperity. Believe me, gentlemen, that course you cannot check—you could not abandon the privileges upon which you embarked, without exposing to a shipwreck the glorious future of your existence and allow me to state that my poor country has some particular claim to be protected by the consistency of your principles, because we are the first nation towards which you have not exercised your principles. You say you recognize every de facto government. Well, why was this not done with Hungary? We shook off the yoke of the Austrian dynasty, we declared our national independence, and did thus not in an untimely movement of popular excitement, but after we became de facto independent, after we had, by crushing our enemy in our struggle of legitimate defence and driving him out from our country, proved to the world that we have sufficient strength to take our position amongst the independent nations of the earth.

And still the United States (which they never yet have done) withheld the benefit of their recognition, which we have full reason to believe would have been immediately followed by other recognitions, and thus would have prevented the foreign interference of Russia, by encouraging our national independence within those boundaries of diplomatic communication which no isolated power dared yet to disregard.

Sir, I have studied the history of your immortal Washington and have, from my early youth, considered his principles as a living source of instruction to statesmen and to patriots.

I now ask you to listen to Washington himself.

When, in that very year, in which Washington issued his Farewell
Address, M. Adet, the French Minister, presented him the flag of the
French Republic, Washington, as president of the United States, answered
officially, with these memorable words:

"Born in a land of liberty, having early learned its value, having engaged in a perilous conflict to defend it, having devoted the best years of my life to secure its permanent establishment in my country, my anxious recollections, my sympathetic feelings, and my best wishes, are irresistibly attracted, whensoever in any country I see an oppressed nation unfurl the banner of freedom."

Thus spoke Washington. Have I not then full reason to say, that if he were alive his generous sympathy would be with me, and the sympathy of a Washington never was, and never would be, a barren word. Washington who raised the word "honesty" as a rule of policy, never would have professed a sentiment which his wisdom as a statesman would not have approved.

Sir! here let me end. I consider it already as an immense benefit that your generous attention connected the cause of Hungary with the celebration of the memory of Washington.

Spirit of the departed! smile down from heaven upon this appreciation of my country's cause; watch over those principles which thou hast taken for the guiding star of thy noble life, and the time will yet come when not only thine own country, but liberated Europe also, will be a living monument to thy immortal name.

[Many other toasts, and highly energetic speeches followed, which our limits force us to exclude.]

* * * * *

XXXII.—KOSSUTH'S CREDENTIALS.

[Farewell to Ohio, Feb. 25th.]

Sir,—I am about to bid an affectionate farewell to Cincinnati, and through Cincinnati to the commonwealth of Ohio—that bright morning star of consolation and of hope risen from the West over the gloomy horizon of Hungary's and of Europe's dark night!

Ohio! how that name thrills through the very heart of my heart, with inexpressible pleasure, like the first trumpet sound of resurrection in the ears of the chosen just!

Ohio! how I will cherish that very name, the dearest of my soul, after the name of my beloved own dear fatherland.

How I long for words of flame to express all the warmth of my heartfelt gratitude! And still how poor I feel in words, precisely because my heart is so full; so full, that I can scarcely speak—because every pulsation of my blood is fervent prayer to God for Ohio's glory and happiness.

Let me dispense with empty words—let what Ohio did, does, and will do, for the cause of European freedom, be its own monument!

I have met many a fair flower of sympathy in this great united Republic, but all Ohio has been to me a blooming garden of sympathy. From the first step on Ohio's soil to the last,—along all my way up to Cleveland down to Columbus, and across to Cincinnati, and also beyond the line of my joyful way,—in every city, in every town, in every village, in every lonely farm, I have met the same generosity, the same sympathy.

The people, penetrated by one universal inspiration of lofty principles, told me everywhere that Hungary must yet be free; that the people of Ohio will not permit the laws of nations, of justice, and of humanity, to be trampled down by the sacrilegious combination of despotism; that the people of Ohio takes the league of despots against liberty and against the principle of national self-government, for an insult offered to the great republic of the West; that it takes it for an insult which Ohio will not bear, but will put all the weight of its power into the political scale. Would that all the United States with equal resolution might spurn that insult to humanity.

That is the language which Ohio spoke to me through hundreds of thousands of freemen—that is the language which Ohio spoke to me through her senators and representatives in their high legislative capacity—that is the language which Ohio spoke to me through her chief, whom it has elevated to govern the commonwealth and to execute the people's sovereign will.

The executive power, the legislature, the people, all united in that harmony of generous protection to the just cause which I humbly plead; but that is not all yet. Sympathy and political protection I have met also everywhere; and have met it as well in the public opinion of the people as in the executive and legislative departments of several States, though it is a due tribute of acknowledgment to say, that nowhere to that extent and in equal universality as in Ohio, but that is yet not all.

The sympathy of Ohio was rich in fair fruits of substantial aid—from the hall of the State legislature down to the humble abode of noble-minded working men—and associations of the friends of Hungary, spread through that powerful commonwealth, promise a permanent, noble protection to the cause I plead.

Even the present occasion of bidding farewell to Ohio is of such a nature as to entitle me, by its very organization to the hope that you consider your noble task of aiding the cause of Hungary not yet done; but that you have determined to go on in a practical direction, till the future, developed by your active protection, proves to be richer yet in fruit than the present is.

Considering the almost universal pronouncement of public opinion in this great and prosperous commonwealth—considering the practical character of the people of the West, the natural efficiency of this organization, and who are those who with generous zeal have devoted themselves to carry it out on a large extent,—I may be well excused for entertaining some expectations of no common success—of a success which also in other parts of this great Union, may prove decisive in its effects. No greater misfortune could be met with than disappointment in such expectations, which we have been by the strongest possible motives encouraged to conceive. To be disappointed in hopes we have justly relied on, would be beyond all imagination terrible in its consequences. I shudder at the very idea of the boundless woes it could not fail to be attended with, not for myself—I attach not much value to my own life,—but for thousands, nay for millions of men.

I know, gentlemen, that here the question is entirely matter of time. But in regard to time, I am permitted to say so much.

The outbreak of the unavoidable, decisive struggle between the two opposite principles of freedom and despotism is hurried on in Europe by two great impulses. The first is the insupportability of oppression connected with the powerfully developed organization of the oppressed, which by its very progress imposes the necessity of no delay. Be pleased earnestly to reflect upon what I rather suggest than explain. And be pleased also to read between the lines. I, of course, speak not of anything relating to your country. I state simply European fact, of which every thinking man, the Czars and their satellites themselves, are fully aware, though the how and the where they cannot grasp.

The second impulse, hurrying events to a decision, is that very combined scheme of activity which the despots of Europe too evidently display. They know full well that they are on the brink of an inevitable retribution; that their crimes have pushed them to the point, where either their power will cease for ever to exist, or they must risk all for all. In former times they relied at the hour of danger upon the generous credulity of nations. By seemingly submitting, when the people arose irresistible, they conjured the fury of the storm They saved themselves by promises, and when the danger was over, they restored their abused power by breaking their oath and by deceiving their nations. By this atrocious impiety you have seen several victorious revolutions in Europe deprived of their fruits and sinking to nothing by having made compromise with royal perjury. I am too honest, gentlemen, not to confess openly, that I myself shared this error of the Old World—I myself plead guilty of that fatal European credulity. The tyrants who by falsehood have gained their end, are aware that they have no security; that the nations have lost faith in their oaths, and will never be cheated again.

Hence, gentlemen, a very essential novelty in the present condition of Europe. Formerly every revolution was followed by some slight progress in the development of constitutionalism. A little more liberty to the press, some sort of a trial by jury, a nominal responsibility of ministers, or a mockery of popular representation in the Legislature—something of that sort always resulted, momentarily, out of former revolutions; and then the consciousness of being deceived by vile mockery led to new revolutions.

But when in 1848 and 1849, our victories in Hungary had shaken to the very foundation the artificial building of oppression, so that there was no more hope left to tyranny, but to shelter itself under the wings of Russia, the Czar told them—well, I accept the part of becoming your master, ye kings, and I will help you, but you must be obedient You, yourselves have encouraged revolutions, by making concessions to them. I like not this everlasting resurrection of revolutions; it disturbs my sleep. I am not sure not to find it at my own home some fine morning. I therefore will help you, my servants, but under the condition, that it is not only the bold Hungarians who must be crushed, it is revolution which must be crushed, its very spirit, in its very vitality, everywhere; and to come to this aim, you must abandon all shame as to sworn promises; withdraw every concession made to the spirit of revolution; not the slightest freedom, no privilege, no political right, no constitutional aspirations must be permitted; all and everything must be levelled by the equality of passive obedience and absolute servitude.

"Look to my Russia; I make no concessions, I rule with an iron rod, and I am obeyed. All you must do the same and not govern, but domineer by universal oppression. That is my sovereign will—obey."

Thus spoke the Czar. It is no opinion which I relate. It is a fact, a historical fact, which the Czar openly proclaimed on several occasions, particularly in that characteristic declaration, to which the high-minded General Cass alluded in his remarkable speech on "non-intervention" in the Senate of the United States, on the 10th day of February. The Czar Nicholas, complaining, that "insurrection has spread in every nation with an audacity which has gained new force in proportion to the concessions of the Governments" declares that he considers it his divine mission to crush the Spirit of Liberty on earth, which he arrogantly terms the spirit of insurrection and of anarchy.

By this you have the definition of what is meant by the words of "war for what principle shall rule." The issue must be felt, not only in Europe, but here also and everywhere; the issue will not leave a chance for a new struggle, either to kings or to nations, for a long time perhaps, and probably for centuries.

In that condition you can see the key of the remarkable fact, that when I left my Asiatic prison under the protection of the star-spangled flag—nations of different climates, different languages, different institutions, different inclinations, united in the pronunciation of sympathy, expectation, encouragement, and hope around my poor humble self,—Italians, French, Portuguese, the people of England, Belgians, Germans, Swiss and Swedes. It was the instinct of common danger, it was the instinct of necessary union. It was no mere tribute of recognition paid to the important weight of Hungary in the scale of this intense universal struggle. It was still more a call of distress, entrusted by the voice of mankind to my care, to bring it over to free America, as to the natural and most powerful representative of that "Spirit of Liberty" against which the leagued tyrants are waging a war of extermination with inexorable resolution. Yes, it was a call of distress entrusted to my care, to remind America that there is a tie in the destinies of nations; and that those are digging a bottomless abyss who forsake the Spirit of Liberty, when within the boundaries of common civilization half the world utters in agony the call of universal distress.

That is the mission with which I come to your shores; and believe me, gentlemen, that is the key of that wonderful sympathy with which the people of this republic answers my humble appeal. There is blood from our blood in these noble American hearts; there is the great heart of mankind which pulsates in the American breast; there is the chord of liberty which vibrates to my sighs.

Let ambitious fools, let the pigmies who live on the scanty food of personal envy, when the very earth quakes beneath their feet, let even the honest prudence of ordinary household times, measuring eternity with that thimble with which they are wont to measure the bubbles of small party interest, and, taking the dreadful roaring of the ocean for a storm in a water glass, let those who believe the weather to be calm because they have drawn a nightcap over their ears, and, burying their heads into pillows of domestic comfort, do not hear Satan sweeping in a hurricane over the earth; let envy, ambition, blindness, and the pettifogging wisdom of small times, artistically investigate the question of my official capacity, or the nature of my public authority; let them scrupulously discuss the immense problem whether I still possess, or possess no longer, the title of my once-Governorship; let them ask for credentials, discuss the limits of my commission, as representative of Hungary. I pity all such frog and mouse fighting.

I claim no official capacity—no public authority—no representation; boast of no commission, of no written and sealed credentials. I am nothing but what my generous friend, the Senator of Michigan, has justly styled me, "a private and banished man." But in that capacity I have a nobler credential for my mission than all the clerks of the world can write, the credential that I am a "man,"—the credential that I am "a patriot"—the credential that I love with all sacrificing devotion my oppressed fatherland and liberty; the credential that I hate tyrants, and have sworn everlasting hostility to them; the credential that I feel the strength to do good service to the cause of freedom; good service as perhaps few men can do, because I have the iron will, in this my breast, to serve faithfully, devotedly, indefatigably, that noble cause.

I have the credential that I trust to God in heaven, to justice on earth; that I offend no laws, but cling to the protection of laws. I have the credential of my people's undeniable confidence and its unshaken faith, to my devotion, to my manliness, to my honesty, and to my patriotism; which faith I will honestly answer without ambition, without interest, as faithfully as ever, but more skilfully, because schooled by adversities. And I have the credential of the justice of the cause I plead, and of the wonderful sympathy, which, not my person, but that cause, has met and meets in two hemispheres.

These are my credentials, and nothing else. To whom this is enough, he will help me, so far as the law permits and is his good pleasure. To whom these credentials are not sufficient, let him look for a better accredited man.

I have too lively a sentiment of my own modest dignity, ever to condescend to polemics about my own personal merits or abilities. I believe my life has been public enough to appertain to the impartial judgment of history, but it may have perhaps interested you to hear, how, in a small and inconsiderable circle of the Hungarian emigration, the idea was started that I must be opposed, because I have declared against all compromise with the House of Austria, or with royalty, and because by declaring that my direction will be in every case only republican, I make every arrangement, without revolution, impossible. That I should be thus attacked at this crisis, does look like an endeavour to check a benefit to my country, but I cannot forbear humbly to beseech you, do not therefore think less favourably of my nation and of the Hungarian emigration, for which I am sorry that I can do very little, because I devote myself and all the success I may meet with to a higher aim—to my country's freedom and independence. Believe me, gentlemen, that my country and its exiled martyr sons are highly worthy of your generous sympathy, though some few of the number do not always act as they should.

They are but few who do so, and it would be unjust to measure all of us by the faults of some few. Upon the whole, I am proud to say that the Hungarian emigration was scrupulous to merit generous sympathy, and to preserve the honour of the Hungarian name. Remember that though you are Republicans, still here, in the very metropolis of Ohio, a man was found to lecture for Russo-Austrian despotism, and to lecture with the astonishing boldness of an immense ignorance.

But that good man I can dismiss with silence, the more because it is with high appreciation and warm gratitude that I saw an honourable gentleman, animated with the most generous sentiments of justice and right, take immediately upon himself the task of refutation. I may perhaps be permitted to remark, that that learned and honourable gentleman, besides having nobly advocated the cause of freedom, justice, and truth, has also well merited of his co-religionaries, who belong together with himself, to the Roman Catholic Church.

Gentlemen, I have but one word yet, and it is a sad one—the word of farewell. Cincinnati, Ohio, farewell! May the richest blessings of the Almighty rest upon thee! In every heart, and in the hearts of my people, thy name will for ever live, a glorious object for our everlasting love and gratitude.

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XXXIII.—HARMONY OF THE EXECUTIVE AND OF THE PEOPLE IN AMERICA.

[Speech at Indianapolis.]

Kossuth was received at the State House of Indianapolis by Governor
Wright, who, in the course of his address said:

Although I participate with my fellow-citizens in the pleasure occasioned by your presence among us, yet it is not as an individual that I greet you with the words of welcome and hospitality. No, sir,—it is in the name of the people of the State, whom I represent, and whose warrant I feel that I have; and I bid you welcome to-day, and assure you not only of my own but of their sympathy and encouragement in the great cause you so ably represent.

He closed with the words:

If it shall be your fortune to lead your countrymen again in the contest for liberty, be assured that the people of the United States, at least, will not be indifferent, nor, if need be, inactive spectators of a conflict that may involve, not only the independence of Hungary, but the freedom of the world.

Again I bid you a most cordial welcome to the State of Indiana.

Kossuth replied:—

Governor,—Amongst all that I have been permitted to see in the United State's, nothing has more attracted my attention than that part of your democratic institutions which I see developed in the mutual and reciprocal relations between the people and the constituted public authorities.

In that respect there is an immense difference between Europe and America, for the understanding of which we have to take into account the difference of the basis of the political organization, and together with it what the public and social life has developed in both hemispheres.

The great misfortune of Europe is, that the present civilization was born in those cursed days when Republicanism set and Royalty rose. It was a gloomy change. Nearly twenty centuries have passed, and torrents of blood have watered the red-hot chains, and still the fetters are not broken; nay—it is our lot to have borne its burning heat—it is our lot to grasp with iron hand the wheels of its crushing car. Destiny—no; Providence—is holding the balance of decision; the tongue is wavering yet; one slight weight more into the one, or into the other scale, will again decide the fate of ages, of centuries.

Upon this mischievous basis of royalty was raised the building of authority; not of that authority which commands spontaneous reverence by merit and the value of its services, but of that authority which oppresses liberty. Hence the authority of a public officer in unfortunate Europe consists in the power to rule and to command, and not in the power to serve his country well—it makes men oppressive downwards, while it makes them creeping before those who are above. Law is not obeyed out of respect, but out of fear. A man in public office takes himself to be better than his countrymen, and becomes arrogant and ambitious; and because to hold a public office is seldom a claim to confidence, but commonly a reason to lose confidence; it is not a mark of civic virtue and of patriotic devotion, but a stain of civic apostacy and of venality; it is not a claim to be honoured, but a reason to be distrusted; so much so, that in Europe the sad word of the poet is indeed a still more sad fact.—

"When vice prevails and impious man bears sway
The post of honour is a private station."

So was it even in my own dear fatherland. Before our unfortunate but glorious revolution of 1848, the principle of royalty had so much spoiled the nature and envenomed the character of public office, that (of course except those who derived their authority by election—which we for our municipal life conserved amongst all the corruption of European royalty through centuries) no patriot accepted an office in the government: to have accepted one was to have resigned patriotism.

It was one of the brightest principles of our murdered Revolution—that public office was restored to the place of civic virtue, and opened to patriotism, by being raised from the abject situation of a tool of oppression, to the honourable position of serving the country well. Alas! that bright day was soon overpowered by the gloomy clouds of despotism, brought back to our sunny sky by the freezing gale of Russian violence. And on the continent of Europe there is night again. There is scarcely one country where the wishes and the will of the people are reflected in the government. There is no government which can say:

"My voice is the echo of the people's voice—I say what my people feels; I proclaim what my people wills; I am the embodiment of his principles, and not the controller of his opinion: the people and myself—we are one."

No, on the continent of Europe people and governments are two hostile camps. What immense mischief, pregnant with oppression and with nameless woe, is encompassed within the circle of this single fact!

How different the condition of America! It is not men who rule, but the law; and law is obeyed, because the people is respecting the general will by respecting the law. Public office is a place of honour, because it is the field for patriotic devotion. Governments have not the arrogant pretension to be the masters of the people; but have the proud glory to be its faithful servants. A public officer ceases not to be a citizen; he has doubly the character of a citizen, by sharing in and by executing the people's will. And whence this striking difference? It is because the civilization of America is founded upon the principle of Democracy. It was born when Royalty declined, and Republicanism rose. Hence the delightful view, not less instructive than interesting, that here in America, instead of the clashing dissonance between the words "government" and "people" we see them melting into one accord of harmony.

Thus here the public opinion of the people never can fail to be a direct rule for the government, and reciprocally the word of the government has the weight of a fact by the people's support. When your government speaks, it is the people which speaks.

Sir, I most humbly thank your Excellency, that you have been pleased to afford to me the benefit of hearing and seeing that delightful as well as happy harmony between the people and the government of the State of Indiana, in the support of that noble and just cause which I plead, on the issue of which, not the future of my country only depends, but together with it, the future condition of all those parts of our globe which are confined within the boundaries of Christian civilization, which, be sure of it, gentlemen, in the ultimate issue, will have the same fate.

Sir, it is not without reason, that at Indianapolis in particular,—and to your Excellency, the truly faithful, the high-minded, and the deservedly popular Chief Magistrate of this Commonwealth, I speak that word. It is not the first time that your Excellency, surrounded as now, has spoken as the honoured organ of the public opinion of Indiana. It is not yet two years since your Excellency did the same on the occasion of a visit of the favourite son of Kentucky, Governor Crittenden. I well remember the topic of your eloquence. It was the solicitude of Indiana in regard to the glorious Union of these Republics. May God preserve it for ever! But precisely because you, the favourite son of Indiana and the honoured representatives of the sovereign people of Indiana—in one accord of perfect harmony esteem the Gordian knot of the Union above all, allow me to say once more, that if the United States permit the principle of non-interference to be blotted out from the code of nations on earth, foreign interference mingling with some domestic discord, perhaps with that which two years ago called forth your patriotic solicitude for the Union; yes, foreign interference mingling with some of your domestic discords, will be the Alexander who will cut asunder the Gordian knot of your Union, in this our present century.

Republics exist upon principles: they are secure only when they act upon principles. He who does not accept a principle, asserted by another, will not long enjoy the benefit of it himself; and nations always perish by their own sin. Oh may those whom your united people entrusted with the noble care to be guardians of your Union—be pleased to consider that truth ere it be too late.

Sir, to the State of Indiana I am in many respects particularly obliged. True, I have had invitations to visit many other States, but the invitation from the State of Indiana was first received. Please to accept my warmest thanks. I have seen in other States a harmony between the people and the government, but nowhere has the Governor of a State condescended to represent the people in a public welcome, nowhere stepped out as the orator of the people's sympathy and its sentiment. I most humbly thank you for this honour.

In Maryland, the Governor introduced me to the Legislature. In Pennsylvania the chief Magistrate was the organ of a common welcome of the Legislature and Citizens. In Massachusetts he took the lead as the people's elect in recommending my principles to the Legislature—and in Ohio the chief Magistrate, by accepting the Presidency of the Association of the friends of Hungary, became generally the executive of the people's practical sympathy, which so magnanimously responded to the many political manifestations of its Representatives in the Legislature.

Let me hope, sir, that as you have been generously pleased to be the interpreter of Indiana's welcome and sympathy, you will also not refuse to become the Chief Executive Magistrate to the practical development of the same.

I may cordially thank, in the name of my cause, the people of Indiana, its Governor, and Representatives, for the high honour of the Legislature's invitation, and of this public welcome.

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XXXIV.—IMPORTANCE OF FOREIGN POLICY, AND OF STRENGTHENING ENGLAND.

[Speech at Louisville, March 6th.]

At the Court House, Louisville, Kossuth was addressed by Bland Ballard,
Esq., and replied as follows:

Whatever be the immediate issue of that discussion about foreign policy, which now so eminently occupies public attention throughout the United States, from the Capitol and White-house at Washington down to the lonely farms of your remotest territories, one fact I have full reason to take for sure, and that is: That when the trumpet-sound of national resurrection is once borne over the waves of the Atlantic announcing to you that nations have risen to assert those rights to which they are called by nature and nature's God—when the roaring of the first cannon-shot announces that the combat is begun which has to decide which principle is to rule over the Christian world—absolutism or national sovereignty—there is no power on earth which could induce the people of the United States to remain inactive and indifferent spectators of that great struggle, in which the future of the Christian world—yes, the future of the United States themselves is to be decided. The people of the United States will not remain indifferent and inactive spectators and will not authorize, will not approve, any policy of indifference. You yourself have told me so, sir.

In the position of every considerable country there is a necessity of a certain course, to adopt which cannot be avoided, and may be almost called destiny. The duty as well as the wisdom of statesmen consists in the ability to steer, in time, the vessel into that course, which, if they neglect to do in time, the price will be higher and the profit less.

There is scarcely anything which has more astonished me than the fact—that, for the last thirty-seven years, almost every Christian nation has shared the great fault of not caring much about what are called foreign matters, foreign policy. Precisely the great nations, England, France, America, which might have regulated the course of their governments for a very considerable period, abandoned almost entirely that part of their public concerns, which with great nations is the most important of all, because it regulates the position of the country in its great national capacity. The slightest internal interest was discussed publicly and regulated previously by the nation, before the government had to execute it; but, as to the most important interest—the national position of the country and its relations to the world, Secret Diplomacy, a fatality of mankind, stepped in, and the nations had to accept the consequences of what was already done, though they subsequently reproved it. In England, I four months ago, avowed that all the interior questions together cannot equal in importance the exterior; there is summed up the future of Britain: and if the people of England do not cut short the secrecy of diplomacy—if it do not in time take this all absorbing interest into its own hands, as it is wont to do with every small home interest, it will have to meet immense danger very soon, as this danger has already seriously accumulated by former neglect. Here too, in the United States, there is no possible question equal in importance to foreign policy, and especially in regard to European matters. And I say that, if the United States do not in due time adopt such a course, as will prevent the Czar of Russia, and his despotic satellites, from believing that the United States give them entirely free field to regulate the condition of Europe, which cannot fail to react morally and materially on your condition, then indeed embarrassments, sufferings, and danger will accumulate in a very short time over you.

Great Britain, it is clear as matters now stand, can avoid a war with the continental powers of Europe only by joining their alliance, or at least by giving them security, that England will not only not support the liberal movement on the Continent, but that it will submit to the policy of the absolutist powers. It is not impossible that England will yield. Do not forget, gentlemen, that an English ministry, be it Tory or Whig, is always more or less aristocratic, and it is in the nature of aristocracy that it may love its country well, but indeed aristocracy more. There is therefore always some inclination to be on good terms with whoever is an enemy to what aristocracy considers its own enemy, that is, democracy. This consideration, together with the above mentioned carelessness of the people about foreign policy, gives you the key to many events which else it would be impossible to understand. People against another people should never feel hatred, but brotherly sympathy. The memory of oppression suffered from governments should never be imparted to nations, and children should never be hated, despised, or punished, because their fathers have sinned. We Hungarians wrestled for centuries with Turkey, and now we are friends, true friends, and natural allies against a common enemy. Several of my own ancestors lost their lives in Turkish wars, or their property in ransom out of Turkish captivity; yet to me it is a Turkish Sultan who saved my life and gave bread to thousands of my countrymen, which no other power did on earth. Such is the change of time. It is Russia which crushed my bleeding fatherland, yet the inexorable hatred of my heart does not extend to the people of Russia. I love that people—I pity its poor, unfortunate instruments of despotism. Wherever there is a people, there is my love. Therefore, let the passionate excitement of past times subside before the prudent advice of present necessities. You are blood from England's blood, bone from its bone, and flesh from its flesh. The Anglo-Saxon race was the kernel around which gathered this glorious fruit—your Republic. Every other nationality is oppressed. It is the Anglo-Saxon alone which stands high and erect in its independence. You, the younger brother, are entirely free, because Republican. They, the elder brother, are monarchical, but they have a constitution, and they have many institutions which even you retained, and, by retaining them, have proved that they are institutions congenial to freedom, and dear to freemen. The free press, the jury, free speech, the freedom of association, the institution of municipalities, the share of the people in the legislature, are English institutions; the inviolability of person and the inviolability of property are English principles. England is the last stronghold of these principles in Europe. Is this not enough to make you stand side by side with those principles in behalf of oppressed humanity?

If the United States and England unite in policy now and make by their imposing attitude a breakwater to the ambitious league of despotism, the Anglo-Saxon race, with all who gathered around that kernel, will not only have the glorious pleasure of having saved the Christian world from being absorbed by despotism, but you especially will have the noble satisfaction of having contributed to the progress and to the development of freedom in England, Scotland, and Ireland themselves: for the principles of national sovereignty, independence, and self-government, when restored on the continent of Europe, must in a beneficent manner reach upon those islands themselves. They may remain monarchical, if it be their will to do so, but the parliamentary omnipotence, which absorbs all that you call State rights and self-government, will yield to the influence of Europe's liberated continent. England will govern its own domestic concerns by its own parliament, and Scotland its own, and Ireland its own, just as the states of your galaxy do; the three countries are destined to mutual connection, by their geographical relations, by far more than New York with Louisiana or Carolina with California. By conserving the state-rights of self-government to all of them they will unite in a common government for the common interest, as you have done. Union, and not unity, must be the guiding star of the future with every power composed of several distinct bodies, and though I am a republican more perhaps than thousands who are citizens of a republic, inasmuch as I have known all the curse of having had a king—still such a development of Great Britain's future, were it even connected with monarchy, I, a true republican, would hail with fervent joy. To contribute to such a future, I indeed should consider more practical support to the cause of freedom, to the cause of Ireland itself, than, out of passionate aversions either for past or present wrongs, to discourage, nay, almost force Great Britain to submit to the threatening attitude of despots or even to side with them against liberty. Out of such a submission there can never result any good to any one in the world, and certainly none to you—none to the nations of Europe—none to Ireland—but increased oppression to Europe and Ireland, and danger to you yourselves.

I therefore say that a war side by side with England against the leagued despots, if war should become a necessity, is not an idea to look on in advance with aversion. You have united with England on a far less important occasion. And should England not yield to the despots, I most confidently ask whoever in the United States inclines to judge matters according to the true interests of his country and not by private passion, whether you could remain indifferent in a struggle, the issue of which either would make England omnipotent on earth, or crush liberty down throughout the world, leave America exposed to the pressure of victorious despotism, and before all, exclude republican America from every political and commercial relation with all Europe. Should England see that she will not stand alone in protesting against interference, she will, she must protest against it, because it is the condition of her own future. But if the United States should again adhere to the policy of indifference (which is no policy at all), then indeed England may perhaps yield to the threatening attitude of the absolutist powers. The policy of the United States may now decide the direction of the policy of England, and thus prevent immense mischief, incalculable in its consequences, even for the future of the United States themselves.

It is here I take the opportunity briefly to refer to an assertion of an American statesman, who holds a high place in your affections and in my respect. He advances the theory, that, should, you now take the course which I humbly claim, the despots of Europe would be provoked by your example to interfere with your institutions and turn upon you in the hour of your weakness and exhaustion, because you have set an example of interference.

I indeed am at a loss to understand that. Is it interference I claim? No; precisely the contrary, if you now declare "that your very existence being founded on that principle of the eternal laws of nature and of nature's God—that every nation has the independent right to regulate its domestic concerns, to fix its institutions and its government"—you cannot contemplate with indifference that the absolutist powers form a league of mutual support against this principle of mankind's common law. You therefore protest against this principle of "foreign interference." I indeed cannot understand by what logic such a protest could be taken up by the despotic powers as a pretext for interference in your domestic concerns. My logic is entirely different. It runs thus; If your country remains an indifferent spectator of the violation of the laws of nations by foreign interference, then it has established a precedent—it has consented that the principle of interference become interpolated into the book of international law, and you will see the time when the league of despots commanding the whole force of oppressed Europe will remind you thus:

"Russia has interfered in Hungary, because it considered the example set up by Hungary dangerous to Russia. America has silently recognized the right of that interference. France has interfered in Rome, because the example of the Roman democracy was dangerous to Prance. America has silently agreed. The absolutist governments, in protection of their divine right, have leagued in a saintly alliance, with the openly avowed purpose to aid one another by mutual interference against the spirit of revolution and the anarchy of republicanism. America has not protested against it; therefore the principle of foreign interference against every dangerous example has, by common consent of every power on earth—contradicted by none, not even by America—become an established international law."

And reminding you thus, they will speak to you in the very words of that distinguished statesman to whom I respectfully allude.

"You have quitted the ground upon which your national existence is founded. You have consented to the alteration of the laws of nations—the existence of your republic is dangerous to us; we therefore, believing that your anarchical (that is, republican) doctrines are destructive of, and that monarchical principles are essential to, the peace and security and happiness of our subjects, will obliterate the bed which has nourished such noxious weeds; we will crush you down as the propagandists of doctrines too destructive to the peace and good order of the world."

I have quoted the very words, very unexpectedly given to publicity,—words, which I out of respect and personal affection, did not answer then, precisely because I took the interview for a private one. Even now I refrain from entering into further discussion, out of the same considerations of respect, though I am challenged by this unlooked for publicity. I will say nothing more. But after having quoted the very words, I leave to the public opinion to judge whether their authority is against or for a national protest against the principle of foreign interference.

Let once the principle become established with your silent consent and you will soon see it brought home to you, and brought home in a moment of domestic discord, which Russian secret diplomacy and Russian gold will skilfully mix. You may be sure of it; and this mighty Union will be shaken by that very principle of foreign interference which you silently let be established as an uncontroverted rule for the despots of the earth.

Great countries are under the necessity of holding the position of a power on earth. If they do not thus, foreign powers dispose of their most vital interests. Indifference to the condition of the foreign world is a wilful abdication of their duty, and of their independence. Neutrality, as a constant rule, is impossible to a great power. Only small countries, as Switzerland and Belgium, can exist upon the basis of neutrality.

Great powers may remain neutral in a particular case, but they cannot take neutrality for a constant principle, and they chiefly cannot remain neutral in respect to principles.

Great powers can never play with impunity the part of no power at all.

Neutrality when taken as a principle means indifference to the condition of the world.

Indifference of a great power to the condition of the world is a chance given to foreign powers to regulate the interests of that indifferent foreign power.

Look in what light you appear before the world with your policy of indifference. Look at the instructions of your navy in the Mediterranean, recently published, forbidding American officers even to speak politics in Europe. Look at the correspondences of your commodores and consuls, frightened to their very souls that a poor exile on board an American ship is cheered by the people of Italy and France, and charging him for the immense crime of having met sympathy without any provocation on his part. Look at the cry of astonishment of European writers, that Americans in Europe are so little republican. Look how French Napoleonist papers frown indignantly at the idea that the Congress of the United States dare to honour my humble self. Look how they consider it almost an insult, that an American Minister, true to his always professed principles, dares to speak about European politics. Look how one of my aristocratical antagonists, who quietly keeps house in France, where I was not permitted to pass, and who, a tool in other hands, would wish to check my endeavours to benefit my country, because he would like to get home in some other way than by a revolution and into a republic—look how he, from Paris in London papers, dares to scorn the idea that America could pretend to weigh anything in the scale of European events.

Do you like this position, free republicans of America? And yet that is your position in the world now, and that position is the consequence of your adhering to your policy of indifference, at a time when you needed to act like a power on earth.

Remember the Sibylline books. The first three were burned when you silently let Russian interference be accomplished in Hungary, and did not give us your recognition when we had achieved and declared our independence.

Six books yet remain. The spirit of the age, the Sibylla of opportunity, holds a second three books over the fire. Do not allow her to burn them—else only the last three remain, and I fear you will have, without profit, more to pay for them than would have bought all the nine, and with them the glory and happiness of an eternal, mighty Republic!

Gentlemen, I humbly thank you for your kindness, and bid you an affectionate farewell.

* * * * *

XXXV.—CATHOLICISM VERSUS JESUITISM.

[At St. Louis, (Missouri.)]

Mr. Kasson addressed Kossuth in an ample speech; in which he said:—

Everywhere have the untrammelled masses of this people, as you passed, lifted up their hands and voices, and supplicated the Almighty to give to you blessing, and to your country redemption. Let this be some recompense for the privations you have encountered, while, like Aeneas, you have been wandering an exile from your native, captured, prostrate Troy.

I should not do my whole duty without saying, in behalf of the thousands assembled here, that we have an unshaken confidence in Hungary's chosen leader. We are not so blind that we cannot observe how no envenomed shaft was fixed to the bow-string against him, in England and America, while he was yet a helpless and powerless refugee, within Turkish hospitality. But when the people were gathering around him in free countries, shoulder to shoulder—when even the hearts of statesmen began to open to him, and hope dawned in the Hungarian sky once more, then it was these arrows of detraction darkened the air, shot from the Court of the French Usurper, or from the pensioners of autocratic bounty. Your patient labours and forbearance in your country's cause, while thus assailed, have won for you, sir, our sincere respect, and another wreath at the hand of the Muse of History.

Kossuth replied:

Gentlemen,—During my brief sojourn in your hospitable city, I have heard so much local pettiness and so much hypocritical tactics of men imported from Austria to advocate the cause of Russo-Austrian despotism in Republican America, and chiefly in your city here, that indeed I began to long for the pure air where the merry sunshine, as well as the melancholy drop of rain, the roaring of the thunder storm, equally as the sigh of the breeze, tell to the oppressors and their tools, and not only to the oppressed, that there is a God in heaven who rules the universe by eternal laws; the Almighty Father of humanity, omnipotent in wisdom, bountiful in His omnipotence, just in His judgment, and eternal in His love; the Lord who gave strength to the boy David against Goliath, who often makes out of humble individuals efficient instruments to push forward the condition of mankind towards that destiny which His merciful will has assigned to it—His will, against which neither the proud ambition of despots, nor the skill of their obsequious tools can prevail—in Him I put my trust and go cheerfully on in my duties. I am in the right way to benefit the cause, noble and just and great, to which I devoted my life; for if there were no success in what I am engaged, the despots would neither fear, nor hate, nor persecute me.

Their persecution imparts more hope to my breast than all your kindness; and I give you my word that if I have the consciousness of having well merited in my past the hatred and the fear of tyrants and their instruments, so may God bless me as I will do all a mortal man can do to merit that hatred and that fear still more.

Why? Am I not standing on the banks of the Mississippi, cheered, welcomed, and supported, as warmly and as heartily as when I stepped first upon your glorious shores? Opposition, hostility, venomous calumny, have exhausted all means to check the sympathy of the people. And has that sympathy subsided? has it abated? is it checked? No, it rolls on swelling as I advance—here I have again an imposing evidence before my eyes, here in St. Louis, my namesake city, where so much, and that so perseveringly, was done to prevent this evidence.

Yes, it rolls, and will roll on, swelling till it will finally submerge all endeavours to mislead the instincts of freemen, to fetter the energies of the nation, to stifle its spirit, and to check the growing aspirations of the people's upright heart.

When the struggle is about principles, indifference is suicide. Nay, indifference is impossible: for indifference about the fate of that principle upon which your national existence and all your future rests—is passive submission to the opposite principle—it is almost equivalent to an alliance with the despots. He who is not for freedom is against freedom. There is no third choice.

The people's instinct feels the danger of losing an irreparable opportunity, and hence the fact, never yet met in history, that a homeless exile becomes an object of such sympathy, rolling on like a sea, in spite of all the passionate rage of my enemies, and all the Christian tolerance of the Reverend Father Jesuits, which they in such an evident manner show to me. It is time to advertise them by a few remarks that I am aware of their hostility, and ready to meet it openly. I make this advertisement by design here, because it is not my custom to attack from behind or in the dark. Mine is not the famous doctrine, that the end sanctifies the means. I like to meet the enemy face to face—a fair field and fair arms.

And in one thing more I will not imitate my reverend opponents. I will never indulge in any personalities, never act otherwise than becoming to a gentleman. If they choose to pursue a different course, let them do so, and let them earn the fruits of it.

My humble person I entirely submit to the good pleasure of their passion. If they tell you, gentlemen, that I am no great man, they speak the truth. Being on good terms with my conscience, I do not much care to be on bad terms with Czars and Emperors, their obedient servants, and the reverend father Jesuits. Nay, if I were on good terms with them, I scarcely could remain on good terms with my conscience. So much for myself—now a few words as to the question between us.

I am claiming moral and material aid against that Czar of Russia who is the most bloody persecutor of Roman Catholics. The present Pope himself, before the revolution, when he was yet more of a High Priest than of an Italian Despot, and cared more about spiritual than temporal business, openly and bitterly complained in the councils of the Cardinals against that bloody persecution which the Roman Catholics have suffered from the Czar of Russia. Now, considering that I plead for republican principles, to which the Reverend Father Jesuits should be here warmly attached, if they are willing to have the reputation of good citizens, and not to be traitors to your Republic, which affords to them not only the protection of its laws, but also the full enjoyment of all the privileges of your republican freedom;—it is indeed a strange, striking fact, to see these reverend fathers here in a Republic so warmly advocating the cause of despotism, and so passionately persecuting the cause I humbly plead, which at the same time is the cause of political freedom and religious liberty for numerous millions of Roman Catholics throughout Europe.

As I am somewhat acquainted with the terrible history of that Order, I thought to find the explanation of this striking fact, in the historical ambition of that Order to rule the world—this, their everlasting standard idea, to which they in all times sacrificed everything, and misused even the holiest of all religion, as an instrument to that ambition. But here in St. Louis I got hold of a definite circumstance which makes the matter quite clear.

I hold in my hand the printed Catalogue of the Society of Jesuits in the province of Missouri, as they term your state. Herein I see that amongst the thirty-five members officiating in the college of the Father Jesuits, in St. Louis, there are not less than eight Reverend Father Jesuits imported from Austria. Now you see why I am so persecuted here. This plain fact tells the story of a big book.

But amongst all that the reverend gentlemen oppose to me there are only two considerations to which the honour of my cause and of my nation forces me to answer in a few remarks. They charge against me that my cause is hostile to the Roman Catholic religion, and to get the Irish citizens to side with them for the support of Russo-Austrian despotism they charge me that I am no friend of Ireland.

I. As to the Catholic religion—I indeed am a Protestant, not only by birth, but also by conviction; and warmly penetrated by this conviction, I would delight to see the same shared by the whole world. But before all, I am mortally opposed to intolerance and to sectarism. I consider religion to be a matter of conscience which every man has to arrange between God and himself. And therefore I respect the religious conviction of every man. I claim religious liberty for myself and my nation, and must of course respect in others the right I claim for myself. There is nothing in the world capable to rouse a greater indignation in my breast than religious oppression. But particularly I respect the Catholic religion, as the religion of some seven millions of my countrymen, to whom I am bound in love, in friendship, in home recollections, in gratitude, and in brotherhood, with the most sacred ties. And I am proud to say, that as in general it is a pre-eminent glory of my country, to be attached to the principle of full religious liberty without any restriction, for all to all, so it is the particular glory of my Roman Catholic countrymen not to be second to any in the world, on the one side in attachment to their own religion, and on the other side in toleration for other religions.

The Austrian dynasty having been continually encroaching upon the chartered right of Protestantism, who were those who struggled in the first rank for our rights? Our Roman Catholic countrymen! It was a glorious sight, almost unparalleled in history, but was also fully appreciated by the Hungarian Protestants. All of us, man by man, would rather sacrifice life, and blood, and goods, than to allow that a hair's breadth should be crushed from the religious liberty of our Roman Catholic countrymen.

Now, what position took the Roman Catholics of Hungary in our past struggle? There was not only no difference between them and the Protestants in their devotion for our country's freedom and independence, but they, according to the importance of their number, took in the struggle a very pre-eminent part. The Roman Catholic Bishops of Hungary protested against the perjurious treachery of the dynasty; many of them suffer even now for their devotion to justice, liberty, and right; and who is the Jesuit who dares to affirm that he is more devoted to the Catholic religion than the Bishops of Hungary? Our battalions were filled with Roman Catholic volunteers; Catholic priests led their faithful flocks to the battle field; our National Convention was composed in majority of Catholics—all the Catholic population, without any exception, consented to and cheered enthusiastically my being elected Governor of Hungary, though I am a Protestant. I had and I have their friendship, their devotion, their support; and when I formed the first Ministry of Independent Hungary, not only a full half of the new Ministry I entrusted to Roman Catholics, but especially I nominated a Roman Catholic Bishop to be Minister of public instruction, and all the Protestants of my country hailed the nomination with applause. Such is the cause of Hungary. Who dares now to charge me that that cause is hostile to the Roman Catholic religion?

But I am allied with Mazzini, with the Romans, and with the Italians; thus goes on the charge: and these cursed Italians are enemies to the Pope. Not to the Pope as High Priest of the Roman Catholic Church, but as despotic sovereign of Rome and his corrupted temporal government—the worst of human inventions. How long has it been a principle of the Roman Catholic religion, that the Romans should not be Republicans? and that the high priest of the Roman church should be a despotic sovereign over the Roman nation? and in that capacity be a devoted ally and obedient servant to the Czar of Russia, the sworn enemy and bloody persecutor of Roman Catholicism? Why, when in 1849, the French Republic sent an army against the Roman Republic to restore the Pope, not to his spiritual authority, because that was by nobody contradicted, but to his temporal despotism, the whole danger could have been averted by the Romans by becoming, en masse, Protestants. The idea was pronounced in Rome and not a single Roman accepted it. They preferred to struggle without hope of victory—they preferred to bleed and to die rather than to abandon their faith.

Now, who can dare to insult that people—who can dare to insult the Roman Catholics of Hungary, Croatia, Italy, Germany, Poland, France—who can dare to insult the thousands of thousands of Roman citizens of the United States—Senators, Governors, Judges—men of all public and private positions—who can dare to insult them, as hostile to their own religion, because they unite to support that cause which I plead? And because they side with republican freedom, with civil and religious liberty, against Russo-Austrian despotism?

Who can dare to affirm that he represents the Catholic religion, if three millions of Catholic Romans do not represent it? The Reverend Father Jesuits perhaps!

I take the liberty to say in a few words: They are that society which Clement XIV, the high priest of the Roman Catholic Church, abolished as dangerous to the Roman Catholic religion; they are those whom every Roman Catholic King excluded from his territories as dangerous to religion and social order; they are those, the ascendancy of whom has always been a period of disaster and confusion to the Roman Catholic church; they are those who now make an alliance or rather a compact of submission with the Czar of Russia, like that which evil-doers, according to the superstition of past ages, made with the evil spirit. And here, in free republican America, they plead the cause of Russian despotism; the cause of that Czar, who is the relentless persecutor of Catholicism; who forced the United Greek Catholics, in the Polish Provinces, by every imaginable cruelty, to abjure their connection with Rome, and carried out, at a far greater expense of human life than Ferdinand and Isabella or Louis XIV, the most stupendous proselytism which violence has yet achieved. More than a hundred thousand human beings had died of misery, or under the lash, as the Minsk nuns were proved to have been killed, before he terrified these unhappy millions into a submission against which their consciences revolted. Yet with this man, red with Catholic blood, and damned with the million curses of their co-religionists, the Rev. Father Jesuits are in alliance; and why? Because it is a characteristic of that Order, to be ambitious to rule the world. To achieve this, they have now made the Pope the obedient satrap of the Czar. Into the enormity of this, enlightened Catholics see clearly. Roman Catholics of Hungary, of Poland, of Italy, Germany, and France have understood this. Is it possible that those of this republic should less understand it? Why, in Italy and Rome itself, a majority of the Catholic clergy are hostile to the temporal authority of the Pope, and sympathize with Mazzini so generally, that of seventeen conspirators recently arrested for conspiring in favour of the Republic against Austria, sixteen were priests belonging to the humbler orders of the clergy.

Gentlemen, I am sorry to have to argue such a question in the United States. If it be indeed true, that amongst the Roman Catholics here an opposition is got up against our cause, let them remember that in opposing me, they oppose the independence and freedom of millions of Hungarian Catholics,—of Catholic Italy,—of the Catholic half of Germany, and of Catholic France; they are supporting the Czar, the most bloody enemy of their religion. Yet I am glad to be able to say, that not all the Roman Catholics here are opposed to me. I have warm friends and kind protectors among them. The gallant General Shields,—Mr. Downs, the Senator from Louisiana,—the warm-hearted Governor of Maryland,—Judge Le Grand at Baltimore, and many other of my kindest friends, are Roman Catholics. From New York onward, multitudes of Roman Catholics have shared the general sympathy. And why not? surely freedom is a treasure to every religious denomination whatsoever.[*]

[Footnote *: Some sentences have been added from the Pittsburg speech, at the end of which the same subject was treated.]

So much for the charge that the cause which I plead—the cause of millions of Roman Catholics—is hostile to the Roman Catholic religion. Should I be forced to enter upon this topic once more, I will take the heart-revolting history of those who have thus calumniated our cause, into my hands, and recall to the memory of public opinion the terrible pages of blood, ambition, countless crimes, and intolerance; but I hope there will be no occasion for it.

II. Now as to Ireland. Where is a man on earth, with uncorrupted soul and with liberal instincts in his heart, who would not sympathize with poor, unfortunate Ireland? Where is a man, loving freedom and right, in whom the wrongs of Green Erin would not stir the heart? Who could forbear warmly to feel for the fatherland of the Grattans, of O'Connells, and of Wolfe Tones? I indeed am such, that wherever is oppression and a people, there is my love.

But why do I not plead Erin's wrongs? I am asked. My answer is: am I not pleading the principle of Liberty? and is the cause of freedom not the cause of Ireland?

I see all the despots of the European continent united in a crusade against liberty; there are two powers still neutral, the position of which may well decide for or against despotism; these two powers are Great Britain and America. If the Almighty blessed my endeavours—if I could succeed to contribute something, that America, and by its influence over the public opinion of the people of England, Great Britain itself, should side with Liberty, from whatever consideration— from whatever interest, against despotism—then indeed I boldly declare before God and men, that I have achieved a greater benefit and done a better service to the future of Ireland, than all who go about loudly crying about Erin's wrongs, and not doing anything for the triumph of that cause which is about to be decided, and is the cause of all nations, who are oppressed, and of all who are, or will be free. Whereas, if, by uniting in the chorus of empty words, I should contribute to alarm not only the government, but also the people of England, and to force that government to side with despotism in the decisive struggle against liberty, (to which that government, being as it is, aristocratical, feels but too much inclined,) then indeed I am sure I should do such a wrong to the future of Ireland, as the sacrifice of my life and torrents of blood, and the sufferings of generations, could not expiate.

Be sure therefore, gentlemen, that every man who pleads for liberty, pleads for Ireland; be sure, that every blow stricken for liberty is stricken also for Ireland; that not always the most noisy are the best friends; and prudent activity is often better service than any show of eloquent words.

And so let me hope, that while it is sure that he who is for freedom is for Ireland, it also will be found that Irish blood can never be against liberty.

And as to you all, gentlemen, let me hope that, however the advocates of despotism may try to mislead public opinion in free America, the uncorrupted noble instinct of the people will prove to the world that it is not in vain, that the down-trodden spirit of liberty raises the sign of distress towards you, and that the wronged and the oppressed can confidently appeal for help, for justice and for redress, to the free and powerful Republic of America.

I thank you, gentlemen, for the patience with which you have listened during this torrent of rain. It shows that your sympathy is warm and sincere—one which cannot be cooled down or washed away.

* * * * *

XXXVI.—THE IDES OF MARCH.

[Farewell Speech at St. Louis, March 15th.]

Ladies and gentlemen: To-day is the fourth anniversary of the Revolution in Hungary.

Anniversaries of Revolutions are almost always connected with the recollection of some patriots, death-fallen on that day, like the Spartans at Thermopylae, martyrs of devotion to their fatherland.

Almost in every country there is some proud cemetery, or some modest tomb-stone, adorned on such a day by a garland of evergreen, the pious offering of patriotic tenderness.

I past the last night in a sleepless dream. And my soul wandered on the magnetic wings of the past, home to my beloved bleeding land, and I saw in the dead of the night, dark veiled shapes, with the paleness of eternal grief upon their brow, but terrible in the tearless silence of that grief, gliding over the churchyards of Hungary, and kneeling down to the head of the graves, and depositing the pious tribute of green and cypress upon them; and after a short prayer rising with clenched fists, and gnashing teeth, and then stealing away tearless and silent as they came—stealing away, because the blood-hounds of my country's murderer lurks from every corner on that night, and on this day, and leads to prison those who dare to show a pious remembrance to the beloved. To-day, a smile on the lips of a Magyar is taken for a crime of defiance to tyranny, and a tear in his eye is equivalent to a revolt. And yet I have seen, with the eye of my home-wandering soul, thousands performing the work of patriotic piety.

And I saw more. When the pious offerers stole away, I saw the honoured dead half risen from their tombs, looking to the offerings, and whispering gloomily, "still a cypress, and still no flower of joy! Is there still the chill of winter and the gloom of night over thee, fatherland? are we not yet revenged? and the sky of the east reddened suddenly, and quivered with bloody flames, and from the far, far west, a lightning flashed like a star-spangled stripe, and within its light a young eagle mounted and soared towards the quivering flames of the east, and as he drew near, upon his approaching, the flames changed into a radiant morning sun, and a voice from above was heard in answer to the question of the dead:

"Sleep yet a short while; mine is the revenge. I will make the stars of the west, the sun of the east; and when ye next awake, ye will find the flower of joy upon your cold bed."

And the dead took the twig of cypress, the sign of resurrection, into their bony hands and lay down.

Such was the dream of my waking soul, and I prayed, and such was my prayer: "Father, if thou deemest me worthy, take the cup from my people, and give it in their stead to me." And there was a whisper around me like the word "Amen." Such was my dream, half foresight and half prophecy; but resolution all. However, none of those dead whom I saw, fell on the 15th of March. They were victims of the royal perjury which betrayed the 15th of March. The anniversary of our revolution has not the stain of a single drop of blood.

We, the elect of the nation, sat on that morning busily but quietly in the legislative hall of old Presburg, and without any flood of eloquence, passed our laws in short words, that the people shall be free; the burdens of feudality cease; the peasant become free proprietor; that equality of duties, equality of rights, shall be the fundamental law; and civil, political, social, and religious liberty, the common property of all the people, whatever tongue it may speak, or in whatever church pray, and that a national ministry shall execute these laws, and guard with its responsibility the chartered ancient independence of our Fatherland.

Two days before, Austria's brave people in Vienna had broken its yoke; and summing up despots in the person of its tool, old Metternich, drove him away, and the Hapsburgs, trembling in their imperial cavern of imperial crimes, trembling, but treacherous, and lying and false, wrote with yard-long letters, the words, "Constitution" and "Free Press," upon Vienna's walls; and the people in joy cheered the inveterate liars, because the people knows no falsehood.

On the 14th I announced the tidings from Vienna to our Parliament at Presburg. The announcement was swiftly carried by the great democrat, the steam-engine, upon the billows of the Danube, down to old Buda and to young Pesth, and while we, in the House of Representatives, passed the laws of justice and freedom, the people of Pesth rose in peaceful but majestic manifestation, declaring that the people should be free. At this manifestation, all the barriers raised by violence against the laws, fell of themselves. Not a drop of blood was shed. A man who was in prison because he had dared to write a book, was carried home in triumph through the streets. The people armed itself as a National Guard, the windows were illuminated, and bonfires burnt; and when these tidings returned back to Presburg, blended with the cheers from Vienna, they warmed the chill of our House of Lords, who readily agreed to the laws we proposed. And there was rejoicing throughout the land. For the first time for centuries the farmer awoke with the pleasant feeling that his time was now his own—for the first time went out to till his field with the consoling thought that the ninth part of his harvest will not be taken by the landlord, and the tenth by the bishop. Both had fully resigned their feudal portion, and the air was brightened by the lustre of freedom, and the very soil budding into a blooming paradise.

Such is the memory of the 15th of March, 1848.

One year later there was blood, but also victory, over the land; the people, because free, fought like demi-gods. Seven great victories we had gained in that month of March. On this very day, the remains of the first 10,000 Russians fled, over the frontiers of Transylvania, to tell at home how heavily the blow falls from free Hungarian arms. It was in that very month that one evening I lay down in the bed, whence in the morning Windischgrätz had risen: and from the battle-field (Isaszeg) I hastened to the Congress at Debreczin, to tell the Representatives of the nation: "It is time to declare our national independence, because it is really achieved. The Hapsburgs have not the power to contradict it more." Nor had they. But Russia, having experienced by the test of its first interference, that there was no power on earth caring about the most flagrant violation of the laws of nations, and seeing by the silence of Great Britain and of the United States, that she may dare to violate those laws, our heroes had to meet a fresh force of nearly 200,000 Russians. No power cheered our bravely won independence, by diplomatic recognition; not even the United States, though they always professed their principle to be that they recognise every de-facto government. We therefore had the right to expect a speedy recognition from the United States. Our struggle rose to European height, but we were left alone to fight for the world; and we had no arms for the new battalions, gathering up in thousands with resolute hearts and empty hands.

The recognition of our independence being withheld, commercial intercourse for procuring arms abroad was impossible—the gloomy feeling of entire forsakedness spread over our tired ranks, and prepared the field for the secret action of treachery; until the most sacrilegious violation of those common laws of nations was achieved and the code of "nature and of nature's God," was drowned in Hungary's blood. And I, who on the 15th of March, 1848, saw the principle of full civil and religious liberty triumphing in my native land—who, on the 15th of March, 1849, saw this freedom consolidated by victories—one year later, on the 15th of March, 1850, was on my sorrowful way to an Asiatic prison.

But wonderful are the works of Divine Providence.

It was again in the month of March, 1851, that the generous interposition of the United States cast the first ray of hope into the dead night of my captivity. And on the 15th of March, 1852, the fourth anniversary of our Revolution, guided by the bounty of Providence, here I stand in the very heart of your immense Republic; no longer a captive, but free in the land of the free, not only not desponding, but firm in confidence of the future, because raised in spirits by a swelling sympathy in the home of the brave, still a poor, a homeless exile, but not without some power to do good to my country and to the cause of liberty, as my very persecution proves.

Such is the history of the 15th of March, in my humble life. Who can tell what will be the character of the next 15th of March?

Nearly two thousand years ago the first Caesar found a Brutus on the Ides or 15th of March. May be that the Ides of March, 1853, will see the last of the Caesars fall under the avenging might of a thousand-handed Brutus—the name of whom is "the people"—inexorable at last after it has been so long generous. The seat of Caesars was first in the south, from the south to the east, from the east to the west, and from the west to the north. That is their last abode. None was lasting yet. Will the last, and worst, prove luckier? No, it will not. While the seat of Caesars was tossed around and thrown back to the icy north, a new world became the cradle of a new humanity, where in spite of the Caesars, the genius of freedom raised (let us hope) an everlasting throne. The Caesar of the north and the genius of freedom have not place enough upon this earth for both of them; one must yield and be crushed beneath the heels of the other. Which is it? Which shall yield?—America may decide.

Allow me to add a few remarks in dry and plain words, on other subjects. It is not necessary to explain why I am attacked by Russia, Austria, and their allies. But some of you, gentlemen, may have felt surprised to see that two Hungarians have joined in the attack, both of whom accepted of the office of ministers from my hands, and held that office under my good pleasure, and from my will, till we all three proceeded into exile on the same evening. My two assailants now live and act under the protection of Louis Napoleon, who did not permit me even to pass through France.

You may yet find perhaps some more joining them, but the number will not be large. Oh! the bitter pangs of an exile's daily life are terrible. I have seen many a character faltering under the constant petty care of how to live, which stood firm like a rock under the storm of a quaking world, therefore I should not be surprised to find yet some few joining in those attacks, as I have neither means nor time to care for the wants of individuals, not even of my own children. What I get is not mine, but my country's; and must be employed to secure its future prospects; and it may be that others may avail themselves of this circumstance, and show some temporary compassion to private misfortune, under the condition of secession from me, with the purpose of being then able to say that the cause of Hungary is hopeless, because not even the Hungarian exiles live in concord. That may happen thus with some few; for hunger is painful: but few they will be. The immense majority of my brother exiles will rather starve than yield to such a snare.

There may be some also that will fall victims to the craft of skilful aristocratic diplomatists, who would fain keep or get the reputation of liberal men, but without the necessity of becoming really liberal. That class of influential persons may give some hope—even some half indefinite promise of support to the cause of Hungary (which they never intend to fulfil), under the condition of a peaceful compromise with the House of Austria upon a monarchical-aristocratical basis, and not in that way which I have proclaimed openly in England, knowing that every root of the monarchical principle is torn out from the breasts of the people of Hungary, so that we can never be knit again. Therefore the future of Hungary can only be republican, and there is no door to that future, but to continue the struggle. There may perhaps be some few honest but weak men, who, weary of a homeless life, would fain return home, even under the condition of monarchical-aristocratical compromise which some skilful diplomatists make glitter into their eyes.

But as to those two who do good service to the tyrant of their and my country, the very circumstance that they were silent when I (because a prisoner) was not able to work much, but are trying to check my endeavours, now that I am about to achieve something which can only prove to be a benefit to Hungarians,—smaller or greater, but only a benefit and in no case a harm; this very circumstance shows the nature of their attacks. But as to the pretence, by which they try to lull to sleep their own consciences, that was revealed to me by a copy of a confidential communication of one of their silent associates to a private circle of friends, where it is stated, that, as I have declared exclusively for a republic, a party must be got up under the nominal leadership of Bathyanyi, on a monarchical basis, because my views leave no hope to get home in an honourable manner, otherwise than by a revolution.

That is the key of the dispute. As to myself, I am a republican, and will never be a subject to a king, any more than be a king myself. But I love my country too sincerely to favour the course I would pursue, on my own private sentiments alone. I know the Hapsburg, and I know my country. I have weighed my people's revolution, wishes and will, and weighed the condition of the only possible success. Upon this basis I act, and am happy to say that the considerate prudence of a statesman, and the duties of a patriot, not only act in full harmony with my own personal republican convictions, but indeed cannot allow me in any other course. Either freedom and our popular rights have no future, not only in Hungary, but indeed in Europe, or that future will be, can be, and shall be only republican for the Hungarians. It is more than foolish to think that either an insurrectionary war can be prevented in Europe, or that that war can terminate otherwise than either by a consolidated despotism or republicanism. No other issue is possible. Therefore, however mean be the private motives of the hostility of those, my very few Hungarian enemies, I pity them. Out of too great a desire to get home, they have made their return in every case impossible. Not all the power of earth could afford them security at home against the indignation of the people. Not, if I succeed to liberate my country, for the people will consider them as traitors, who have done all they could to prevent that liberation; not, if I should fail, because then the people will believe that their counter-machinations are what caused me to fail.

So much for them. But the confidence with which I look to the republican freedom of Hungary has been confirmed, by considering how weak must the case be of those who urge you to indifference, when they are forced to resort to the argument that we have no chance of success.

I have often answered that objection, which in itself is a distrust in God, in justice, in right, and in the blessings of humanity. Allow me to-day in addition, only one remark. Two days ago the rumour was spread that Louis Napoleon was killed. It was remarkable to see how those who countenance despotism, grew livid by despair, and how those who doubt about our success rose in spirits and in confidence. Some time ago a similar false rumour caused almost a commercial crisis in the cotton market of New Orleans. Now how can the security of that cause be trusted, where the mere possible death of a single individual, and of such an individual, can so crush every calculation upon the solidity of the peace of oppression?

Allow me to draw your attention to a circumstance which one of your countrymen, William Henry Trescott, of South Carolina, has recommended to public attention, already in the year 1849, in his pamphlet, entitled 'A few Thoughts on the Foreign Policy of the United States.' The position of the United States underwent an immense change, as soon as your boundaries extended to the Pacific; extensive commercial relations with Asia became a necessity. You feel it—the very movements now commenced in respect to Japan bear witness to it. Let those movements be completed, and whom will you meet? Russia. That is the old story. Everybody who is willing to have some influence in the East must meet Russia, whose sterling thought is to exclude all other powers from the East.

England is to you the competitor in the commerce of the East; and competitors may well have a fair field for them both; but Russia is not a competitor there, she is an enemy. Look to the Mediterranean Sea, and remember the everlasting thought of Russia to crush Turkey, and to get hold of Constantinople. What is the key of this eternal fond desire, inherited from Peter the Great? It is not the mere desire of territorial aggrandizement; the real key is, that it is only by the possession of Constantinople that Russia, a great territorial power already, can become also a great maritime power. The Mediterranean is what Russia wants, to be the mistress of Europe, Asia, of Africa, and of the world. But the Sultan, sitting on the Bosphorus, confines the navy of the Czar to the Black Sea, an interior lake, without any outlet but by the beautiful Bosphorus. Constantinople taken, it is Russia which controls the Mediterranean:—a circumstance of such immense importance, that Mr. Trescott says, it would be a sufficient reason for direct and positive interference—that is, for war.

There—there—in Turkey, will be decided the fate of the world. Perhaps there will be not only the end, but also the beginning of the end; and some American politicians say, the United States can do nothing for Europe's liberty, but Turkey can,—holding only the Bosphorus against an inroad from Sebastopol!—Turkey, with its brave four hundred thousand men—the natural ally of all those European nations who will, who must, struggle against Russian preponderance. How wonderful! The Bosphorus in the hands of the Sultan, saves the world from Russian dominion; and yet I am asked, what can America do for Europe? How many men-of-war have you in the Mediterranean? I would you had more. Would you had some other anchorage in the Mediterranean for your glorious flag! Turkey has many a fine harbour, and a great deal of good will. The Turkish Aghas now would not be afraid to see cheered, for instance, by the inhabitants of Mytilene, the American flag, should it ever happen that that flag were cast in protection around my humble self; nay, I am sure they would smilingly join in the harsh but cordial "khôsh guelden, sepa gueldin," which is more than a thrice welcome in your language. But the word welcome reminds me that I have to say to you farewell—and that is a sad word in the place where I have met so warm a welcome, but it must be done. Can I hope to have the consolation of knowing that in bidding farewell to my namesake city, I leave high-minded men, who, remembering that they have seen the Hungarian exile on the Ides of March, will have faith in the future of freedom's just cause, and make the central city of the great United Republic the centre of numerous associations of the friends of Hungary in the Great West, whence I confidently hope the sun of freedom will move towards the East.

Ladies and gentlemen, I bid you farewell, a heartfelt, affectionate farewell.

[From St. Louis, Kossuth proceeded farther south; but we do not find any novelty in his speech at New Orleans, March 30th. The most notable thing in that meeting, is the cordial pronouncement of the Hon. E. W. Moise, in the name of the City Authorities and People of New Orleans, in favour of Hungary and Governor Kossuth: thus distinctly showing that the commercial metropolis of the South sympathizes with European liberty equally as the North. But it is sufficient here to have indicated the fact.]

* * * * *

XXXVII.—HISTORY OF KOSSUTH'S LIBERATION.

[Jackson, Mississippi—(Visit to Senator Foote) April 1st.]

Kossuth had felt it a duty of gratitude, on his return from New Orleans, to visit Jackson, the chief city of Mississippi, in order to express his thanks in person to Senator Foote, then Governor of the State, for having moved a resolution in the Senate to send a steamer to Constantinople for Kossuth, and afterwards, a resolution tendering to him a cordial national welcome at Washington. On his proposing this visit, he received an enthusiastic invitation from the citizens at large, as was expounded to him by Governor Foote in a very cordial speech, which ended with the words:

In the name of the sovereign people of Mississippi, and by the special request of those of our citizens whom you see before you and around you, I now bid you welcome to our own Capital, and pray that a bounteous Providence may vouchsafe to you and the sacred cause of which you are the advocate, its most auspicious countenance and protection.

Kossuth replied:

Your Excellency has been pleased to bestow a word of approbation upon the manner in which I have spoken and acted since I am here in the United States, especially as to frankness: which frankness, on another side, has occasioned much hostility toward me. Allow me, on the present occasion, to exercise that same frankness. If I were less frank, I should perhaps tell you I had a fond desire to see Mississippi, and thank the citizens for sympathy to my country. But I claim not a merit which I do not possess. I did not come to meet the people. My only motive was one of gratitude toward YOU, sir.

One anxiety has weighed upon my breast ever since I have been in the United States, and that is, lest I lose the opportunity to say to you, with a warm grasp of the hand, and in a few but heartfelt words, how thankful I feel for the important part you have been pleased to take in my liberation from captivity. I hope to God, you will never have reason to regret what you have done for me. Allow me to state that there was something Providential in the fact, and in the time of intercession in my behalf.

The Sultan is a generous man; I can bear testimony to that. When Russia and Austria, proudly relying upon their armies and the flush of victory, arrogantly demanded that we should be surrendered to the hangman of my fatherland; and when the majority of the Divan (the great Council of Turkey) taking a shortsighted view of the case, and influenced by the impending danger, had already consented to the arrogant demand, and when, in consequence thereof, the abandonment of our religion was proposed as the only means to save our lives, then the Sultan, informed of the matter, and following the noble impulse of his generous heart, declared that he would prefer to perish rather than dishonour his name—he would therefore accept the dangers of war rather than disregard the great duty of humanity—thus if he be doomed to perish, he would at least perish in an honourable way. By that noble resolution our lives were saved. But European diplomacy stepped in, to convert the accorded hospitality into a prison;[*] the Sultan being left alone, not supported, not encouraged by any one soever, but assailed by complications, ill advised by fear, and threatened by many, yielded at last, but yielded with the intention to restore us to our natural rights, as soon as he could be sure that he stood not forsaken and alone in acknowledging the right of humanity. For a long while, no encouragement came, and we lingered in our prison, forsaken and without hope. You, sir, moved a resolution in the Senate of the United States. In consequence thereof, the great Republic of the West, by its generous offer, cast a ray of consolation into my prison, and gave encouragement to the Sublime Porte. The English and the French governments, unwilling to appear less liberal, both approved the course of the United States. England made even a similar offer as America, and the Sultan, glad to see that he was no longer alone in asserting what is right, agreed to the offer, notwithstanding all the machinations of my enemies, and I and my countrymen became free.

[Footnote *: I am permitted to explain, that Kossuth had in view not the action of one power only, but the total result of all the powers. While the Sultan knew what the arms of Russia were meant for, and could not learn whether the fleet of England was meant for anything but a mere show (for Sir Stratford Canning "had no orders" to use it), the practical advice of diplomacy was, not, to do what was just, but, to make the least disgraceful and least dangerous compromise.]

Now suppose, sir, you had not introduced that resolution then, and the star-spangled flag had not been cast in protection around me—suppose that the coup d'état of Louis Napoleon had found me in prison still—that coup d'état which caused a change of the ministry in England,—what would have been the consequence? England would probably have remained indifferent, and France would have certainly opposed the proposition of the United States—or rather, supported the cause of Austria; and the Sultan abandoned by the constitutional powers of Europe, would have been forced to make Kutaya what the arrogant despots desired—a physical, or at least, a moral grave for me—and instead of the new hope and fresh resolution which my liberation inspired into nations groaning under the weight of a common oppression, there would be now a gloom of despondency spread over all who united with me in spirit, in resolution, and in sentiments.

Therefore, in whatsoever I may yet be useful through my regained activity, it is due to you, sir. Without the intercession of the United States, there would have been no field of activity left me.

Allow me now to speak on another matter connected with this. Among the calumnies perpetually thrown out at me, is one which I cannot pass in silence, because it charges me with ingratitude to the United States, saying that I misuse the generosity of your country, which granted me protection and an asylum, upon my accepting the condition not to meddle any more with politics, but to abandon the cause to which I have devoted my life—to retire from public life, and to lay down my head to rest.

Now, before God and man, this representation is entirely false. No such condition was added to the generous offer of the United States; and I declare, that however much I regard such an offer, had this condition been attached, I would in no case, have accepted it. Life is of no value to me, except inasmuch as I can do some service to my country's cause.

Therefore, under the condition of forsaking my country, I would not accept happiness—not liberty—not life. This I have said before.

It is due from me to the honour of the Turkish Government to declare, that the Sublime Porte not only attached no condition at all to my liberation, but explicitly and officially intimated to me, that having once decided to set us free, it was unwilling to do things by halves;—we had therefore full and unrestricted liberty, on leaving Turkey, to go and to stay where we pleased—to take such a course as we chose, and that to that purpose, an American and an English vessel would be ready at the Dardanelles, and it would depend on our choice, on board of which we embarked. Indeed I have an official communication on the part of the English Government in my hands, by which I was informed, that the only reason why the appointed English vessel came not to the Dardanelles was, that I and my associates had declared that we preferred to embark on board the American ship.

But again: in respect to that embarkation, I must state that, in the resolution of the Congress, one word being contained which might have been subject to different interpretation, I considered it my duty to declare frankly to the legation of the United States at Constantinople, that I neither was, nor would be, willing to assume the character of an emigrant; but would only be considered an exile, driven away by foreign violence from my native land, but not without the hope to get home again to free and independent Hungary; therefore, that I not only would not pledge my word to go directly to the United States, or to remove thither permanently, but, upon regaining my liberty, intended to devote it to win back for my country its sovereign independence, which we had achieved and proclaimed, and which was wrested from us by the most sacrilegious violation of the laws of nations. I got an answer fully satisfactory on the part of your legation, assuring me that the United States would never consent to give me a new prison, instead of liberty; and that there was, and could be, no intention on the part of the United States to restrain my freedom or my activity, beyond the limits of your common laws, which are equally obligatory and equally protective to every one, so long as he chooses to stay in the United States. Upon this. I accepted thankfully the generous offer of the United States. I wrote a letter of thanks to His Excellency the President, and ordered my diplomatic agent in England to write a similar one to the Honourable Secretary of State, expressing, that I considered the struggle for our national independence not yet finished, and that I would devote my regained liberty to the cause of my fatherland.

Nearly three months after these declarations, the Mississippi steam-ship arrived, and I embarked, having again, previously and on board, constantly declared, that it was my fervent wish to visit the United States, but not without previously visiting England, on board the same frigate, if the favour should be granted to me; else on board another ship from a Mediterranean port, if needs must be. This is the true history of the case.

I hope you will excuse me for having answered for once a misrepresentation which charges me with bad faith and ingratitude, such as neither have I merited, nor can I bear * * *

* * * * *

XXXVIII.—PRONOUNCEMENT OF THE SOUTH.

[Mobile, Alabama, April 3d.]

Ladies and gentlemen,—I did not expect to have either the honour of a public welcome, or the opportunity of addressing such a distinguished assembly at Mobile—not as if I had entertained the slightest doubt about the generous sentiments of this enlightened community, but because I am called by pressing duties to hasten back to the east of the United States. Indeed only the accident of not finding a vessel ready to leave when I arrived here, has enabled me to see the fair flower of your generosity added to the garland of sympathy which the people of your mighty Republic has given me, and which will shine from the banner of resistance to all-encroaching despotism, that banner which the expectations of millions call me to raise.

But however unexpected my arrival, the congenial kindness of your warm hearts left me not unnoticed and uncheered; and besides the joyful consolation which I feel on this occasion, there is also important benefit in the generous reception you honour me with.

Firstly, because one of the United States Senators of Alabama, Mr. Clemens, was pleased to pronounce himself not only opposed to my principles, but hostile to my own humble self. I thank God for having well deserved the hatred of Czars and Emperors; and so may God bless me, as I will all my life try to deserve it still more; but I cannot equally say, that I have deserved the inclemency of Mr. Clemens, though it be not the least passionate of all. Well, ladies and gentlemen, after the spontaneous sympathy which I here so unexpectedly meet, I may be permitted to believe that it is not the State of Alabama, but Mr. Clemens only whom I have to count amongst my persecutors and my enemies.

Secondly, I must mention, that it is my good fortune not often to meet arguments opposed to my arguments, but only personal attacks. Well, that is the best acknowledgment which could have been paid to the justice of my cause. For even if I were all that my enemies would like to make me appear, would thereby the cause I plead and the principles I advocate be less just, less righteous, and less true? Now amongst those personal attacks there is one which says, that I am so impertinent as to dare appeal from the government to the people: and that I try to sow dissension between the people and the government. I declare in the most solemn manner, this imputation to be entirely unfounded and calumniatory. Who ever heard me say one single word of complaint or dissatisfaction against your national government? When have I spoken otherwise than in terms of gratitude, high esteem, and profound veneration about the Congress and Government of the United States? and how could I have spoken otherwise; being, as I am, indebted to Congress and Government, for my liberation, for the most generous protection, and for the highest honours a man was ever yet honoured with? And besides, I have full reason to say that it is entirely false to insinuate that in political respects I had been disappointed with my visit to Washington City,—no, it is not respect alone, but the intensest gratitude that I feel. The principles and sentiments of the Chief Magistrate of your great republic, expressed to the Congress in his official messages; the principles of your government so nobly interpreted by the Hon. Secretary of State, at the congressional banquet, confirming expressly the contents of his immortal letter to Mons. Hulsemann; the further private declarations, in regard to the practical applications of those governmental principles; all and everything could but impress my mind with the most consoling satisfaction and the warmest gratitude;—as may be seen in the letter of thanks which on the eve of my departure I sent to His Excellency the President and to both Houses of Congress.

That being my condition, who can charge me with sowing dissension between the people and the government, when I, accepting such opportunities, as you also have been pleased kindly to offer to me, plead the cause of my down-trodden country (for which both people and government of the United States have manifested the liveliest sympathy;) and advocate principles, entirely harmonizing with the official declarations of your government? And what is it I say to the people in my public addresses? I say, "the exigency of circumstances has raised the question of foreign policy to the highest standard of importance,—the question is introduced to the Congress, it must therefore be brought to a decision, it cannot be passed in silence any more. Your representatives in Congress take it for their noblest glory to follow the sovereign will of the people; but to be able to follow it, they must know it; yet they cannot know it without the people manifesting its opinion in a constitutional way; since they have not been elected upon the question of foreign policy, that question being then not yet discussed. I therefore humbly entreat the sovereign people of the United States to consider the matter, and to pronounce its opinion, in such a way as it is consistent with law, and with their constitutional duties and rights." May I not be tranquillized in my conscience, that in speaking thus I commit no disloyal act, and do in no way offend against the high veneration due from me to your constituted authorities?

If it be so, then the generous manifestation of your sympathy I am honoured with in Mobile, is again a highly valuable benefit to my cause, because it has such a character of spontaneity, that, here at least, no misrepresentation can charge me with having even endeavoured to elicit that high-minded manifestation from the metropolis of the State of Alabama.

So doubly returning my thanks for it, I beg leave to state what it is I humbly entreat.

Firstly, when the struggle which is to decide on the freedom of Europe has once broken out, Hungary has resources to carry it on: but she wants initial aid, because her finances are all grasped by our oppressors. You would not refuse to me, a houseless exile, alms and commiseration if I begged for myself. Surely then you cannot refuse it for my bleeding fatherland, when I beg of you, as individuals, trifling sums, such as each can well spare, and the gift of which does not entangle your country in any political obligation.

Whatever may be my personal fate, millions would thank and coming generations bless it as a source of happiness to them, as once the nineteen million francs, 24,000 muskets, and thirty-eight vessels of war which France gave to the cause of your own independence, have been a source of happiness to you. I rely in that respect upon the republican virtue which your immortal Washington has bequeathed to you in his memorable address to M. Adet, the first French republican minister sent to Washington. "My anxious recollections and my best wishes are irresistibly attracted whensoever in any country I see an oppressed nation unfurl the banner of freedom."

So spoke Washington; and so much for private material aid; to which nothing is required but a little sympathy for an unfortunate people, which even Mr. Clemens may feel, whatever his personal aversion for the man who is pleading not his own, but his brave people's cause.

As to the political part of my mission, I humbly claim that the United States may pronounce what is or should be the law of nations—such as they can recognize consistently with the basis upon which their own existence is established, and consistently with their own republican principles.

And what is the principle of such a law of nations, which you as republicans can recognize? Your greatest man, your first President, Washington himself, has declared in these words: "Every nation has a right to establish that form of government under which it conceives it may live most happy, and no government ought to interfere with the internal concerns of another."

And according to this everlasting principle, proclaimed by your first President, your last President has again proclaimed in his last message to the Congress, that "_the United States are forbidden to remain indifferent to a case, in which the strong arm of a foreign power is invoiced to repress the spirit of freedom in any country."

It is this declaration that I humbly claim to be sanctioned by the sovereign will of the people of the United States, in support of that principle which Washington already has proclaimed. And in that respect, I frankly confess I should feel highly astonished, if the Southern States proved not amongst the first, and amongst the most unanimous to join in such a declaration. Because, of all the great principles guaranteed by your constitution, there is none to which the southern states attach a greater importance,—there is none which they more cherish,—than the principle of self-government; the principle that their own affairs are to be managed by themselves, without any interference from whatever quarter, neither from another state, though they are all estates of the same galaxy, nor from the central government, though it is an emanation of all the states, and represents the south as well as the north, and the east and the west; nor from any foreign power, though it be the mightiest on earth.

Well, gentlemen, this great principle of self-government, is precisely the ground upon which I stand. It is for the defence of this principle that my nation rose against a world in arms; to maintain this principle in the code of "nature and of nature's God," the people of Hungary spilt their blood on the battlefield and on the scaffold. It is this principle which was trodden down in Hungary by the centralization of Austria and the interference of Russia. It is the principle which, if Hungary is not restored to her sovereign independence, is blotted out for ever from the great statute book of the nations, from the common law of mankind.

Like a pestilential disease, the violation of the principle of self-government will spread over all the earth until it is destroyed everywhere, in order that despots may sleep in security, for they know that this principle is the strongest stronghold of freedom, and therefore it is hated by all despots and all ambitious men, and by all those who have sold their souls to despotism and ambition.

Gentlemen, you know well that the principle of self-government has two great enemies—CENTRALIZATION and FOREIGN INTERFERENCE. Hungary is a bleeding victim to both.

You have probably perceived, gentlemen, that the great misfortune of Europe is the spirit of centralization encroaching upon all municipal institutions and destroying self-government, not only by open despotism, but also under the disguise of liberty. Fascinated by this dangerous tendency, even republican France went on to sweep away all the traces of self-government, and this is the reason why all her revolutions could not assert liberty for her people, and why she lies now prostrate under the feet of a usurper, without glory, without merit, without virtue.

Blind to their interests, the nations abandoned their real liberty, the municipal institutions, for a nominal responsibility of ministers and for parliamentary omnipotence. Instead of clinging to the principle of self-government—the true breakwater against the encroachments of kings, of ministers, of parliaments—they abandoned the principle which enforces the real responsibility of ministers and raises the parliament to the glorious position of the people's faithful servant; they exchanged the real liberty of self-government for the fascinating phantom of parliamentary omnipotence, making the elected of the people the masters of the people, which, if it is really to be free, cannot have any master but God. The old Anglo-Saxon municipal freedom has even in England been weakened by this tendency; parliament has not only fought against the prerogative of the crown, but has conquered the municipal freedom of the country and of the borough. Green Erin sighs painfully under this pressure, and English statesmen begin to be alarmed. Hungary, my own dear fatherland, was the only country in Europe which, amidst all adversaries, amidst all attacks of foreign encroachment and all inducements of false new doctrines, remained faithful to the great principle of self-government, at which the perjurious dynasty of Austria has never ceased to aim deadly blows. To get rid of these incessant attacks we availed ourselves of the condition of Europe in 1848, and got our old national self-government guarantied in a legal way, with the sanction of our then king, by substituting individual for collective responsibility of ministers; having experienced that a board of ministers, though responsible by law and composed of our own countrymen, was naturally and necessarily in practice irresponsible. When the tyrants of Austria, whom our forefathers had elected in an ill-fated hour to be our constitutional kings, saw that their designs of centralization were obstructed, they forsook their honour, they broke their oath, they tore asunder the compact by which they had become kings; the diadem had lost its brightness for them if it was not to be despotic.

They stirred up robbers and rebels against us: and when this failed, then with all the forces of the empire attacked Hungary unexpectedly, not thinking to meet with a serious opposition, because we had no army, no arms, no ammunition, no money, no friends. They therefore declared our constitution and our self-government, which we have preserved through the adversities of ten centuries, at once and for ever abolished.

But my heart could not bear this sacrilege. I and my political friends, we called our people to arms to defend the palladium of our national existence, the privilege of self-government, and that political, civil, and religious liberty, and those democratic institutions, which, upon the glorious basis of self-government, we had succeeded to assert for all the people of Hungary. And the people nobly answered my call. We struck down the centralizing tyrant to the dust; we drove him and his double-faced eagle out from our country; our answer to his impious treachery was the declaration of our independence and his forfeiture of the crown.

Were we right to do so, or not?

We were; and we had accomplished already our lawful enterprise victoriously; we had taken our competent seat amongst the independent nations on earth. But the other independent powers, and alas! even the United States, lingered to acknowledge our dearly but gloriously bought independence; and beaten Austria had time to take her refuge under the shelter of the other principle, hostile to self-government, of the sacrilegious principle of FOREIGN ARMED INTERFERENCE.

The Czar of Russia declared that the example of Hungary is dangerous to the interests of absolutism! He interfered, and aided by treason, he succeeded to crush freedom and self-government in Hungary, and to establish a centralized absolutism there, where, through all the ages of the past, the rule of despotism never had been established, and the United States let him silently accomplish this violation of the common law of nations.

Gentlemen, the law of nations, upon which you have raised the lofty hall of your independence, does not exist any more. The despots are united and leagued against national self-government. They declare it inconsistent with their divine (rather Satanic) rights; and upon this basis all the nations of the European Continent are held in fetters; the government of France is become a vanguard to Russia, St. Petersburg is transferred to Paris, and England is forced to arm and to prepare for self-defence at home.

These are the immediate consequences of the downfall of the principle of self-government in Hungary, by the violence of foreign interference. But if this great principle is not restored to its full weight by the restoration of Hungary's sovereign independence, then you will see yet other consequences in your own country. Your freedom and prosperity is hated as dangerous to the despots of Europe. If you do not believe me, believe at least what the organs of your enemies openly avow themselves. Pozzo di Borgo, the great Russian diplomatist, and Hulsemann, the little Austrian diplomatist, repeatedly in 1817 and 1823, published that despotism is in danger, unless yourselves become a king-ridden people. If you study the history of the Hungarian struggle, you can also see the way by which the despots will carry their design. The secret power of foreign diplomacy will foster amongst you the principle of centralization; and, as is always the case, many who are absorbed in some special aims of your party politics will be caught by this snare; and when you, gentlemen of the south, oppose with energy this tendency, dangerous to your dear principle of self-government, the despots of Europe will first foment and embitter the quarrel and kindle the fire of domestic dissensions, and finally they will declare that your example is dangerous to order. Then foreign armed interference steps in for centralization here, as for monarchy in the rest of America.

Indeed, gentlemen, if there is any place on earth where this prospect should be considered with attention, with peculiar care, it is here in the southern states of this great union, because their very existence is based on the great principle of self-government.

But some say there is no danger for the United States, in whatever condition be the rest of the world. I am astonished to hear that objection in a country, which, by a thousand ties, is connected with and interested in the condition of the foreign world.

It is your own government which prophetically foretold in 1827, that the absolutism of Europe will not be appeased until every vestige of human freedom has been obliterated even here.

And is it upon the ruins of Hungary that the absolutist powers are now about to realize this prophecy?

You are aware of the fact that every former revolution in Europe was accompanied by some constitutional concessions, promised by the kings to appease the storm, but treacherously nullified when the storm passed. Out of this false play constantly new revolutions arose. It is therefore that Russian interference in Hungary was preceded by a proclamation of the Czar,—wherein he declares "that insurrection having spread in every nation with an audacity which has gained new force in proportion to the concessions of the governments," every concession must be withdrawn; not the slightest freedom, no political rights, and no constitutional aspirations must be left, but everything levelled by the equality of passive obedience and absolute servitude; he therefore takes the lead of the allied despots, to crush the spirit of liberty on earth.

It is this impious work, which was begun by the interference in Hungary, and goes on spreading in a frightful degree; it is this impious work which my people, combined with the other oppressed nations, is resolved to oppose. It is therefore no partial struggle which we are about to fight; it is a struggle of principles, the issues of which, according as we triumph or fall, must be felt everywhere, but nowhere more than here in the United States, because no nation on earth has more to lose by the all-overwhelming preponderance of the absolutist principle than the United States. If we are triumphant, the progress and development of the United States will go on peacefully, till your Republicanism becomes the ruling principle on earth (God grant it may soon become); but if we fail, the absolutist powers, triumphant over Europe, will and must fall with all their weight upon you, precisely because else you would grow to such a might as would decide the destinies of the world. And since the absolutistical powers, with Russia at their head, desire themselves to rule the world, it is natural for her to consider you as their most dangerous enemy, which they must try to crush, or else be crushed sooner or later themselves. The Pozzo di Borgos tell you so: the Hulsemanns tell you so: and it were indeed strange if the people of the United States, too proudly relying upon their power and their good luck, should indifferently regard the gathering of danger over their head, and hereby invite it to come home to them, forcing them to the immense sacrifices of war, whereas we now afford to them an opportunity to prevent that danger, without any entanglement, and without claiming from you any moral and material aid, except such as is not only consistent with, but necessary to your interests.

Allow me to make yet some remarks about the commercial interests as connected with the cause I plead. Nothing astonishes me more than to see those whose only guiding star is commerce, considering its interests only from the narrow view of a small momentary profit, and disregarding the threatening combination of next coming events.

Permit me to quote in this respect one part of the public letter which Mr. Calhoun, the son of the late great leader of the South, the inheritor of his fame, of his principles, and of his interests, has recently published. I quote it because I hope nobody will charge him with partiality in respect to Hungary.

Mr. Calhoun says:

"There is a universal consideration that should influence the government of the United States. The palpable and practical agricultural, manufacturing, commercial and navigating interests, the pecuniary interests of this country, will be promoted by the independence of Hungary more than by any other event that could occur in Europe. If Hungary becomes independent it will be her interest to adopt a liberal system of commercial policy. There are fifteen millions of people inhabiting what is or what was Hungary, and the country between her and the Adriatic. These people have not now, and never had, any commerce with the United States. Hungarian trade and commerce has been stifled by the 'fiscal barriers' of Austria that encircle her. She has used but few of American products. Your annual shipments of cotton and cotton manufactures to Trieste and all other Austrian ports, including the amount sent to Hungary, as well as Austria, has never exceeded nine hundred thousand dollars per annum. All other merchandize and produce sent by you to Austria and Hungary do not exceed one hundred thousand dollars a year. Hungary obtains all her foreign imports through Austrian ports. The import and transit duties levied by Austria are exceedingly onerous, and nearly prohibitory as to Hungary of your cotton and cotton goods." Hungary independent, and a market is at once opened for your cotton, rice, tobacco, and manufactures of immense value. That market is now closed to you, and has always been, by Austrian restrictions. And can it be doubted that besides supplying the fifteen millions of industrious and intelligent people of Hungary (and they are, as a people, perhaps, the most intelligent of any in Europe), the adjacent and neighbouring countries, will not also be tempted to encourage trade with you? Hungary needs your cotton. She is rich in resources—mineral, agricultural, manufacturing, and of every kind. She is rich in products for which you can exchange your cotton, rice, &c. Will it, I ask, injuriously affect you if the English should compete with you and send their manufactures of cotton thither? Not, I presume, as long as the raw material is purchased from America; but in fact, your market will be extended through her. "If therefore those of our statesmen (says Mr. Calhoun), who can only be influenced by the almighty dollar, will cypher up the value of this trade—this new market for our products, worth perhaps twenty millions of dollars yearly—they may find an excuse for incurring even the tremendous and awful risk of a war with Austria, but which there is less danger of than there is with Governor Brigham Young, in Utah. They may find a substantial interest involved that is worth taking care of. Governor Kossuth may be assured it is of more consequence than sympathy. It is a wonderfully sensitive nerve in this country: it controls most of the others.—Sympathy, in this case, can take care of itself. It does not require any nursing. The interests involved should be attended to. It seems to me that this position as to our commerce with Hungary cannot be attacked in front, in rear, or on either flank. It is by far more forcible and powerful than the ex post facto argument in favour of the Mexican war, that it got us California and its gold. So far as the general welfare of the country is concerned, free trade with independent Hungary, and its certain ultimate results, would be more invaluable than all the cargoes of gold that may be brought from the Pacific coast, if ten times the present amount."

That is the opinion of a distinguished American citizen, identified chiefly with the interests of the South.

As to me, I beg permission to sketch in a few lines the reverse of the picture. If we fail in our enterprize to check the encroaching progress of absolutism, if the despots of Europe succeed to accomplish their plot, the chief part of which for Russia is to get hold of Constantinople, and thus to become the controlling power of the Mediterranean sea, what will be the immediate result of it in respect to your commerce?

No man of sound judgment can entertain the least doubt that the first step of Russia will and must be, to exclude America from the markets of Europe by the renewal of what is called the continental system. Not a single bushel of wheat or corn, not a single pound of tobacco, not a single bale of cotton, will you be permitted to sell on the continent of Europe. The leagued despots must exclude you, because you are republicans, and commerce is the conveyer of principles; they must exclude you, because by ruining your commerce they ruin your prosperity, and by ruining this they ruin your development, which is dangerous to them. Russia besides must exclude you, because you are the most dangerous rival to her in the European markets where you have already beaten her. And it will be the more the interest of Russia to exclude you, because by taking Constantinople, she will also become the master of Asiatic and African regions, where also cotton is raised.

Well, you say, perhaps, though you be excluded from the European continent, England still remains to your cotton commerce.—Who could guarantee that the English aristocracy will not join in the absolutist combination, if the people of the United States, by a timely manifestation of its sentiments, does not encourage the public opinion of England itself? But suppose England does remain a market to your cotton, you must not forget that if English manufacture is excluded from all the coasts of Europe and of the Mediterranean, she will not buy so much cotton from you as now, because she will lose so large a market for cotton goods.

Well, you say neither England nor you will submit to such a ruin of your prosperity. Of course not; but then you will have a war, connected with immense sacrifices; whereas now, you can prevent all that ruin, all those sacrifices, and all that war. Is it not more prudent to prevent a fire, than to quench it when your own house is already in flames?

Ladies and Gentlemen, let me draw to a close. I most heartily thank you for the honours of this unlooked-for reception, and for your generous sympathy. I feel happy that the interests, political as well as commercial, of the United States, are in intimate connexion with the success of the struggle of Hungary for independence and republican principles; and I bid you a sincere and cordial farewell, recalling to your memory, and humbly recommending to your sympathy that toast, which the more clement Senator of Alabama, Colonel King, as President of the United States Senate, gave me at the Congressional Banquet, on the 7th of January, in these words:—

"Hungary having proved herself worthy to be free, by the virtue and valour of her sons, the law of nations and the dictates of justice alike demand that she shall have fair play in her struggle for independence."

It was the honourable Senator of Alabama who gave me this toast, expressing his conviction that to this toast every American will cordially respond. His colleague has not responded to it, but Mobile has responded to it, and I take, with cordial gratitude, my leave of Mobile.

* * * * *

XXXIX.—KOSSUTH'S DEFENCE AGAINST CERTAIN MEAN IMPUTATIONS.

[Jersey City.]

Kossuth was here welcomed with an address by the Hon. D. S. Gregory, whose guest he became. Great efforts had been made to prejudice the public against him; notwithstanding which he was received with enthusiasm. In the evening, in his speech at the Presbyterian Church, he alluded to the attacks of his opponents as follows:

Mr. Mayor, and Ladies and Gentlemen,—There have been some who, to the great satisfaction of despots, and their civil and religious confederates, have moved Heaven and Hell to lower my sacred mission to the level of a stage-play; and to ridicule the enthusiastic outburst of popular sentiments, by defaming its object and its aim.

That was a sorrowful sight indeed. To meet opposition we must be prepared. There is no truth yet but has been opposed: the car which leads truth to triumph must pass over martyrs; that is the doom of humanity. Mankind, though advanced in intellectual skill, is pretty much the same in heart as it was thousands of years ago—if not worse; for wealth and prosperity do not always improve the heart. It is sorrowful to see that not even such a cause as that which I plead, can escape from being dragged down insultingly into the mud. With the ancient Greeks, the head of an unfortunate was held sacred even to the gods. Now-a-days, with some,—but let us be thankful! only with some few degenerate persons,—even calamity like ours is but an occasion for a bad joke. Jesus Christ felt thirsty on the cross, and received vinegar and wormwood to quench the thirst of his agony. Oh ye spirits of my country's departed martyrs, sadden not your melancholy look at mean insult. The soil which you watered by your blood will yet be free, and that is enough! Ye will hear glad tidings about it when I join your ranks.

But now, as for myself. When I was in private life, I despised to become rich, and sacrificed thousands to the public, and often saw my own family embarrassed by domestic cares. I refused indemnifications, and lived poor. When raised to the highest place in my country, and provided with an allowance four times as great as your President's, I still lived in my old modest way. I had millions at my disposal, yet I went into exile penniless. Who now are ye, or what like proof have ye given of not adoring the "Almighty Dollar," who dare to insult my honour and call me a sturdy beggar, and ask in what brewery I will invest the money I get from Americans? And why? because I ask a poor alms to prepare the approaching struggle of my country; because I cannot and may not tell the public (which is to tell my country's enemy), how I dispose of the sums which I receive. And Americans, pretending to be republicans, pretending to sympathize with liberty, and wield that light artillery of Freedom,—the Press,—try to put on me mean stigmas, in order to make it impossible for me to aid the contest of Hungary for its own and mankind's liberty.

Indeed, it is too sad. The consul of ancient Rome, Spurius Postumius, was once caught in a snare by the Samnites, and was ordered to pass under the yoke with all his legions. When he hesitated to submit, a captain cried to him: "Stoop, and lead us to disgrace for our country's sake." And so he did. The word of the captain was true: our country may claim of us, to submit even to degradations for its benefit. But I am sorry that it is in America I had to learn, there are in a patriot's life trials still bitterer than even that of exile.

Well: I can bear all this, if it be but fruitful of good for my beloved fatherland. But I look up to Almighty God, and ask in humility, whether unscrupulous and mean suspicion shall succeed in stopping the flow of that public and private aid to me, from republican America and from American republicans, without which I cannot organize and combine our forces.

Mr. Mayor and citizens of Jersey, I indeed apprehend you will have much disappointed those who endeavoured by ridicule to drive our cause out of fashion. You have shown them to-day that the cause of liberty can never be out of fashion with Americans. I thank you most cordially for it; the more because I know that long before yesterday sympathy with the cause of liberty has been in fashion with you. I am here on the borders of a state noted for its fidelity and sacrifices in the struggle for your country's freedom and independence: to which the State of New Jersey has, in proportion to its population, sacrificed a larger amount of patriotic blood and of property, than any other of your sister states. I myself have read the acknowledgment of this in Washington's own yet unedited hand-writings. And I know also that your state has the historical reputation of having been a glorious battle-field in the struggle for the freedom you enjoy.

There may be some in this assembly with whom the sufferings connected with one's home being a battle-field, may be a family tradition yet. But is there a country in the world where such traditions are more largely recorded than my own native land is? Is there a country, on the soil of which more battles have been fought—and battles not only for ourselves, but for all the Christian, all the civilized world? Oh, home of my fathers! thou art the Golgotha of Europe.

I defy all the demoniac skill of tyranny to find out more tortures,—moral, political, and material,—than those which now weigh down my fatherland. It will not bear them, it cannot bear them, but will make a revolution, though all the world forsake us. But I ask, is there not private generosity enough in America, to give me those funds, through which my injured country would have to meet fewer enemies, and win its rights with far less bloodshed; or shall the venom of calumny cause you to refuse that, which, without impairing your private fortunes or risking your public interests, would mightily conduce to our success?

Allow me to quote a beautiful but true word which ex-Governor Vroom spoke in Trenton last night. He said: "Let us help the man; his principles are those engrafted into our Declaration of Independence. We cannot remain free, should all Europe become enslaved by absolutism. The sun of freedom is but one, on mankind's sky, and when darkness spreads it will spread over all alike." The instinct of the people of Hungary understood, that to yield at all to unjust violence, was to yield everything; and to my appeals they replied, Cursed be he who yields! Though unprepared, they fought; our unnamed heroes fought and conquered,—until Russia and treachery came. And though now I am an exile, again they will follow me; I need only to get back to them and bring them something sharper than our nails to fight with for fatherland and humanity; then in the high face of heaven we will fight out the battle of freedom once more. This is my cause, and this my plea. It is there in your hearts, written in burning words by God himself, who made you generous by bestowing on you freedom.

* * * * *

XL.—THE BROTHERHOOD OF NATIONS.

[Newark.]

The Rev. Dr. Eddy introduced Kossuth to the citizens of Newark, and made an address to him in their name. After this, Kossuth replied:

Gentlemen,—It was a minister of the Gospel who addressed me in your name: Let me speak to you as a Christian who considers it to be my heartfelt duty to act, not only in my private but also in my public capacity, in conformity with the principles of Christianity, as I understand it.

I have seen the people of the United States almost in every climate of your immense territory. I have marked the natural influence of geography upon its character. I have seen the same principles, the same institutions assuming in their application the modifying influences of local circumstances; I have found the past casting its shadows on the present, in one place darker, in the other less; I have seen man everywhere to be man, partaking of all aspirations, which are the bliss as well as the fragility of nature in man,—but in one place the bliss prevailing more and in the other the fragility. I saw now and then small interests of the passing hour, less or more encroaching upon the sacred dominion of universal principles; but so much is true, that wherever I found a people, I found a great and generous heart, ready to take that ground which by your very national position is pointed out to you as a mission. Your position is to be a great nation; therefore your necessity is to act like a great nation; or, if you do not, you will not be great.

To be numerous, is not to be great. The Chinese are eight times more numerous than you, and still China is not great, for she has isolated herself from the world. Nor does the condition of a nation depend on what she likes to call herself. China calls herself "Celestial," and takes you and Europe for barbarians. Not what we call ourselves, but how we act, proves what we are. Great is that nation which acts greatly. And give me leave to say, what an American minister of the Gospel has said to me: "Nations, by the great God of the Universe, are individualized, as well as men. He has given each a mission to fulfil, and He expects every one to bear its part in solving the great problem of man's capacity for self-government, which is the problem of human destiny; and if any nation fails in this, He will treat it as an unprofitable servant, a barren fig-tree, whose own end is to be rooted up and burnt."

Jonah sat under the shadow of his gourd rejoicing, in isolated, selfish indifference, caring nothing for the millions of the Ninevites at his feet. What was the consequence? God prepared a worm to smite the gourd, that it withered. God has privileged you, the people of the United States, to repose, not under a gourd, but beneath the shadow of a luxuriant vine and the outspreading branches of a delicious fig-tree. Give him praise and thanks! But are you, Jonah-like, on this account to wrap yourselves up in the mantle of insensibility, caring nothing for the nations smarting under oppression? stretching forth no hand for their deliverance, not even so much as to protest against a conspiracy of evil doers, and give an alms to aid deliverance from them? Are you to hide your national talent in a napkin, or lend it at usury? Read the Saviour's maxim:

"Do unto others as ye would that others do unto you!" This is the Saviour's golden rule, applicable to nations as well as to individuals. Suppose when the United States were struggling for their independence, the Spanish Government had interfered to prevent its achievement —sending an armament to bombard your cities and murder your inhabitants. What would your forefathers have thought—how felt? Precisely as Hungary thought and felt when the Russian bear put down his overslaughtering paw upon her. They would have invoked high heaven to avenge the interference—and had there been a people on the face of the earth to protest against it, that people would have shown out, like an eminent star in the hemisphere of nations—and to this day you would call it blessed. What you would have others do unto you, do so likewise unto them.

And though you met no foreign interference, yet you met far more than a protest in your favour; you met substantial aid: thirty-eight vessels of war, nineteen millions of money, 24,000 muskets, 4,000 soldiers, and the whole political weight of France engaged in your cause. I ask not so much, by far not so much, for oppressed Europe from you.

It is a gospel maxim "Be not partaker of other men's sins." It is alike applicable to individuals and nations. If you of the United States see the great law of humanity outraged by another nation, and see it silently, raising no warning voice against it, you virtually become a party to the offence; as you do not reprove it, you embolden the offender to add iniquity unto iniquity.

Let not one nation be partaker of another nation's sins. When you see the great law of humanity, the law upon which your national existence rests, the law enacted in the Declaration of your Independence, outraged and profaned, will you sit quietly by? If so (excuse me for saying) part of the guilt is upon you, and while individuals receive their reward in the eternal world, nations are sure to receive it here. There is connection of cause and effect in a nation's destiny.

A nation should not be a mere lake, a glassy expanse, only reflecting foreign, light around—but a river, carrying its rich treasures from the fountain to distant regions of the earth.

A nation should not be a mere light-house, a stationary beacon, erected upon the coast to warn voyagers of their danger—but a moving life-boat, carrying treasures of freedom to the doors of thousands and millions in their lands.

I confess, gentlemen, that I shared those expectations, which the nations of Europe have conceived from America. Was I too sanguine in my wishes to hope, that in these expectations I shall not fail? So much I dare say, that I conceived these expectations not without encouragement on your own part.

With this let me draw to a close. One word often tells more than a volume of skilful eloquence. When crossing the Alleghany mountains, in a new country, scarcely yet settled, bearing at every step the mark of a new creation, I happened to see a new house in ruins. I felt astonished to see a ruin in America. There must have been misfortune in that house—the hand of God may have stricken him, thought I, and inquired from one of the neighbours, "What has become of the man?" "Nothing particular," answered he: "he went to the West—he was too comfortable here. American pioneers like to be uncomfortable." It was but one word, yet worth a volume. It made me more correctly understand the character of your people and the mystery of your inner prodigious growth, than a big volume of treatises upon the spirit of America might have done. The instinct of indomitable energy, all the boundless power hidden in the word "go ahead," lay open before my eyes. I felt by a glance what immense things might be accomplished by that energy, to the honour and lasting welfare of all humanity, if only its direction be not misled—and I pray to God that he may preserve your people from being absorbed in materialism. The proud results of egotism vanish in the following generation like the fancy of a dream; but the smallest real benefit bestowed upon mankind is lasting like eternity. People of America! thy energy is wonderful; but for thy own sake, for thy future's sake, for all humanity's sake, beware! Oh! beware from measuring good and evil by the arguments of materialists.

I have seen too many sad and bitter hours in my stormy life, not to remember every word of true consolation which happened to brighten my way.

It was nearly four months ago, and still I remember it, as if it had happened but yesterday, that the delegation, which came in December last to New York, to tender me a cordial welcome from and to invite me to Newark, called me a brother, a brother in the just and righteous appreciation of human rights and human destiny; brother in all the sacred and hallowed sentiments of the human heart. These were your words, and yesterday the people of Newark proved to me that they are your sentiments; sentiments not like the sudden excitement of passion, which cools, but sentiments of brotherhood and friendship, lasting, faithful, and true.

You have greeted me by the dear name of brother. When I came, you entitled me to the right to bid you farewell in a brother's way. And between brethren, a warm grasp of hand, a tender tear in the eye, and the word "remember," tells more than all the skill of oratory could do. And remember, oh remember, brethren! that the grasp of my hand is my whole people's grasp, the tear which glistens in my eyes is their tear. They are suffering as no other people—for the world, the oppressed world. They are the emblem of struggling liberty, claiming a brother's love and a brother's aid from America, who is, happily, the emblem of prosperous liberty!

Let this word "brother," with all the dear ties comprized in that word, be the impression I leave upon your hearts. Let this word, "brethren, remember!" be my farewell.

* * * * *

XLI.—THE HISTORY AND HEART OF MASSACHUSETTS.

[Worcester,[*] Massachusetts.]

[Footnote *: "Heart of the Commonwealth," is the American title of the town of Worcester.]

Gentlemen,—Just as the Holy Scriptures are the revelation of religious truth, teaching men how to attain eternal bliss, so history is the revelation of eternal wisdom, instructing nations how to be happy, and immortal on earth. Unaccountable changes may alter on a sudden the condition of individuals, but in the life of nations there is always a close concatenation of cause and effect—therefore history is the book of life, wherein the past assumes the shape of future events.

The history of old Massachusetts is full of instruction to those who know how to read unwritten philosophy in written facts. Besides, to me it is of deep interest, because of the striking resemblances between your country's history and that of mine. In fact, from the very time that the "colonial system" was adopted by Great Britain, to secure the monopoly of the American trade, down to Washington's final victories;—from James Otis, pleading with words of flame the rights of America before the Supreme Court of Massachusetts, breathing into the nation that breath of life out of which American Independence was born; down to the Declaration of Independence, first moved by a son of Massachusetts;—I often believe I read of Hungary when I read of Massachusetts. But next, when the kind cheers of your generous-hearted people rouse me out of my contemplative reveries, and looking around me I see your prosperity, a nameless woe comes over my mind, because that very prosperity reminds me that I am not at home. The home of my fathers—the home of my heart—the home of my affections and of my cares, is in the most striking contrast with the prosperity I see here. And whence this striking contrast in the results, when there exists such a striking identity in the antecedents? Whence this afflicting departure from logical coherence in history?

It is, because your struggle for independence met the good luck, that monarchical France stipulated to aid with its full force America struggling for independence, whereas republican America delayed even a recognition of Hungary's independence at the crisis when it had been achieved. However! the equality of results may yet come. History will not prove false to poor Hungary, while it proves true to all the world. I certainly shall never meet the reputation of Franklin, but I may yet meet his good luck in a patriotic mission. It is not yet too late. My people, like the damsel in the Scriptures, is but sleeping, and not dead. Sleep is silent, but restores to strength. There is apparent silence also in nature before the storm. We are downtrodden, it is true: but was not Washington in a dreary retreat with his few brave men, scarcely to be called an army, when Franklin drew nigh to success in his mission?

My retreat is somewhat longer, to be sure, but then our struggle went on from the first on a far greater scale; and again, the success of Franklin was aided by the hatred of France against England; so I am told, and it is true; but I trust that the love of liberty in republican America will prove as copious a source of generous inspiration, as hatred of Great Britain proved in monarchical France. Or, should it be the doom of humanity that even republics like yours are more mightily moved by hatred than by love, is there less reason for republican America to hate the overwhelming progress of absolutism, than there was reason for France to hate England's prosperity? In fact, that prosperity has not been lessened, but rather increased by the rending away of the United States from the dominion of England; but the absorption of Europe into predominant absolutism, would cripple your prosperity, because you are no China, no Japan.

America cannot remain unaffected by the condition of Europe, with which you have a thousand-fold intercourse. A passing accident in Liverpool, a fire in Manchester, cannot fail to be felt in America—how could then the fire of despotic oppression, which threatens to consume all Europe's freedom, civilization, and property, fail to affect in its results America? How can it be indifferent to you whether Europe be free or enslaved?—whether there exists a "Law of Nations," or no such thing any more exists, being replaced by the caprice of an arrogant mortal who is called "Czar?" No! either all the instruction of history is vanity, and its warnings but the pastime of a mocking-bird, or this indifference is impossible; therefore I may yet meet with Franklin's good luck.

Franklin wrote to his friend Charles Thompson, after having concluded the treaty of peace—"If we ever become ungrateful to those who have served and befriended us, our reputation, and all the strength it is capable of procuring, will be lost, and new dangers ensue."

Perhaps I could say, poor Hungary has well served Christendom, has well served the cause of humanity; but indeed we are not so happy as to have served your country in particular. But you are generous enough to permit our unmerited misfortunes to recommend us to your affections in place of good service. It is beautiful to repay a received benefit, but to bestow a benefit is divine. It is your good fortune to be able to do good to humanity: let it be your glory that you are willing to do it.

Then what will be the tidings I shall have to bear back to Europe, in answer to the expectations with which I was charged from Turkey, Italy, France, Portugal, and England? Let me hope the answer will be fit to be reanswered by a mighty hallelujah, at the shout of which the thrones of tyrants will quake; and when they are fallen, and buried beneath the fallen pillars of tyranny, all the Christian world will unite in the song of praise—"Glory to God in Heaven, and peace to right-willing men on earth, and honour to America, the first-born son of Liberty. For no nation has God done so much as for her; for she proved to be well deserving of it, because she was obedient to his Divine Law—She has loved her neighbour as herself, and did unto others as, in the hour of her need, she desired others to do unto herself."

Gentlemen,—I know what weight is due to Massachusetts in the councils of the nation; the history, the character, the intelligence, the consistent energy, and the considerate perseverance of your country, give me the security that when the people of Massachusetts raises its voice and pronounces its will—it will carry its aim.

I have seen this people's will in the manifestation of him whom the people's well-deserved confidence has raised to the helm of its Executive Government; I have seen it in the sanction of its Senators; I have seen it in the mighty outburst of popular sentiments, and in the generous testimonials of its sympathy, as I moved over this hallowed soil. I hope soon to see it in the Legislative Hall of your Representatives, and in the Cradle of American Liberty.

I hope to see it as I see it now here, throbbing with warm, sincere, generous, and powerful pulsation, in the very heart of your Commonwealth. I know that where the heart is sound the whole body is sound—the blood is sound throughout all the veins. Never believe those to be right who, bearing but a piece of metal in their chests, could persuade you, that to be cold is to be wise. Warmth is the vivifying influence of the universe, and the warm heart is the source of noble deeds. To consider calmly what you have to do is well. You have done so. But let me hope that the heart of Massachusetts will continue to throb warmly for the cause of liberty, till that which you judge to be right is done, with that persistent energy, which, inherited from the puritan pilgrims of the Mayflower, is a principle with the people of Massachusetts. Remember the afflicted,—farewell.

* * * * *

XLII.—PANEGYRIC OF MASSACHUSETTS.

[Speech at Faneuil Hall.]

Kossuth entered Boston on the 27th April, escorted by twenty-nine companies of infantry and four of artillery, in the midst of flags and other festive display. He was welcomed by Gov. Boutwell at the State House. In the afternoon he reviewed the troops on the common, in the midst of an immense multitude. The members of the legislature and of the council came in procession from the State House, and joined him in the field. In the evening he was entertained at the Revere House, as the guest of the Legislative Committee.

On April 28th he was escorted by the Independent Cadets to the State House, where Governor Boutwell received him with a brief but emphatic speech, avowing that Kossuth had "imparted important instruction" to the people of the United States. The governor then conducted Kossuth to the Senate, where he was warmly welcomed by the President, General Wilson; and thence again to the House of Representatives, where the Speaker, Mr. Banks, addressed him in words of high honour, in the name of the representatives. To each of these addresses Kossuth replied; but the substance of his speeches has scarcely sufficient novelty to present here.

On the evening of the 29th of April it was arranged that he should speak in Faneuil Hall. The hall filled long before his arrival, and an incident occurred which deserves record. The crowd amused itself by calling on persons present for speeches: among others Senator Myron Lawrence was called for, who, after first refusing, stept on the platform and declared that he had some sins to confess. He had been guilty of thinking Kossuth to be what is called "a humbug;" but he had seen him now, and thought differently. He had seen the modest, truthful bearing of the man,—that he had no tricks of the orator, but spoke straightforward. Mr. Lawrence now believed him to be sincere and honest, and prayed Almighty God to grant him a glorious success. This frank and manly acknowledgment was received with unanimous and hearty applause.

At eight o'clock Governor Boutwell, his council, and the committee of reception, as also the vice-presidents and secretaries, received Kossuth in Faneuil Hall.[*] When applause had ceased, the Governor addressed Kossuth as follows:—

[Footnote *: Faneuil Hall is entitled by the Americans "the cradle of
American Liberty.">[

Gentlemen,—We have come from the exciting and majestic scenes of the reception which the people of Massachusetts have given to the exiled son of an oppressed and distant land, that on this holy spot, associated in our minds with the eloquence, the patriotism, the virtue of the revolution, we may listen to his sad story of the past and contemplate his plans and hopes for the future. And shall these associations which belong to us, and this sad story which belongs to humanity, fail to inspire our souls and instruct our minds in the cause of freedom? Europe is not like a distant ocean, whose agitations and storms give no impulse to the wave that gently touches our shore. The introduction of steam power and the development of commercial energy are blending and assimilating our civilities and institutions. Europe is nearer to us in time than the extreme parts of this country are to each other. As all of us are interested in the prevalence of the principles of justice among our fellow men, so, as a nation, we are interested in the prevalence of the principles of justice among the nations and states of Europe.

Never before was the American mind so intelligently directed to European affairs. We have not sought, nor shall we seek, the control of those affairs. But we may scan and judge their character and prepare ourselves for the exigencies of national existence to which we may be called. I do not hesitate to pronounce the opinion that the policy of Europe will have a visible effect upon the character, power, and destiny of the American Republic. That policy as indicated by Russia and Austria, is the work of centralization, consolidation and absolutism. American policy is the antagonist of this.

We are pledged to liberty and the sovereignty of States. Shall a contest between our own principles and those of our enemies awaken no emotions in us? We believe that government should exist for the advantage of the individual members of the body politic, and not for the use of those who, by birth, fortune, or personal energy, may have risen to positions of power. We recognize the right of each nation to establish its own institutions and regulate its own affairs. Our revolution rests upon this right, and otherwise is entirely indefensible. The policy of this nation, as well foreign as domestic, should be controlled by American principles, that the world may know we have faith in the government we have established. While we cannot adopt the cause of any other people, or make the quarrels of European nations our own, it is our duty to guard the principles peculiar to America, as well as those entertained by us in common with the civilized world.

One principle, which should be universal in States as among individual men is, that each should use his own in such a way as not to injure that which belongs to another. Russia violated this principle when she interfered in the affairs of Hungary, and thus weakened the obligations of other States to respect the sovereignty of the Russian Empire.

The independent existence of the continental States of Europe, is of twofold importance to America. Important politically, important commercially.

As independent States they deprive Russia, the central and absorbing power of Europe, of the opportunity on the Mediterranean to interfere in the politics and civilities of this Continent. Russia and the United States are as unlike as any two nations which ever existed. If Russia obtains control of Europe by the power of arms, and the United States shall retain this Continent by the power of its principles, war will be inevitable. As inevitable as it was in former days that war should arise between Carthage and Rome,—Carthage, which sought to extend her power by commerce, and Rome, which sought to govern the world by the sword. The independence of the States of Europe is then the best security for the peace of the world. If these States exist, it must be upon one condition only—that each State is permitted to regulate its own affairs. If the voice of the United States and Great Britain is silent, will Russia allow these States to exist upon this principle?—Has she not already partitioned Poland—menaced Turkey—divided with the Sultan the sovereignty of Wallachia—infused new energy into the despotic councils of Austria—and finally aided her in an unholy crusade against the liberties of Hungary? Have we not then an interest in the affairs of Europe? And if we have an interest, ought we not to use the rights of an independent State for its protection?

The second consideration is commercial.

Centralization, absolutism, destroys commerce. The policy of Russia diminishes production and limits markets. Whenever she adds a new State to her dominions the commerce of the world is diminished. Great Britain and the United States, which possess three-fourths of the commercial marine of the globe, are interested to prevent it. Our commerce at this moment with despotic States is of very little importance, and its history shows that in every age it has flourished in proportion to the freedom of the people.

These, gentlemen, are poor words and barren thoughts upon the great European question of the time. A question which America in her own name, and for herself, must meet at some future day, if now she shall fail to meet it firmly, upon well settled principles of national law, for the protection and assistance of other States.

I have done. The exiled patriot shall speak for himself. Not for himself only, nor for the land and people of Hungary he loves so well, but for Europe, and America even, he speaks. Before you he pleads your own cause. It is to a just tribunal I present a noble advocate. And to him it shall be a bright spot in the dreary waste of the exile's life, that to-night he pleads the cause of Hungary and humanity, where once Otis and Adams, and Hancock and Quincy, pleaded the cause of America and liberty.

I present to you Governor Kossuth of Hungary.

In reply to Governor Boutwell, when the tumultuous applause had subsided, Kossuth spoke, in substance as follows:—

He apologized for profaning Shakespeare's language in Faneuil Hall, the cradle of American liberty. Yet he ventured to criticize that very phrase; for liberty ought not to be American, but human; else it is no longer a right, but a privilege; and privilege can nowhere be permanent. The nature of a privilege (said he) is exclusiveness, that of a principle is communicative. Liberty is a principle: its community is its security; exclusiveness is its doom.

What is aristocracy? It is exclusive liberty; it is privilege; and aristocracy is doomed, because it is contrary to the destiny of men. As aristocracy should vanish within each nation, so should no nation be an aristocrat among nations. Until that ceases, liberty will nowhere be lasting on earth. It is equally fatal to individuals as to nations, to believe themselves beyond the reach of vicissitudes. By this proud reliance, and the isolation resulting therefrom, more victims have fallen than by immediate adversities. You have grown prodigiously by your freedom of seventy-five years; but what is seventy-five years as a charter of immortality? No, no, my humble tongue tells the records of eternal truth. A privilege never can be lasting. Liberty restricted to one nation never can be sure. You may say, "We are the prophets of God;" but you shall not say, "God is only our God." The Jews said so, and their pride, old Jerusalem, lies in the dust. Our Saviour taught all humanity to say, "Our Father in heaven," and his Jerusalem is lasting to the end of days.

"There is a community in mankind's destiny"—that was the greeting which I read on the arch of welcome on the Capitol Hill of Massachusetts. I pray to God, the Republic of America would weigh the eternal truth of those words, and act accordingly; liberty in America would then be sure to the end of time; but if you say, "American Liberty," and take that grammar for your policy, I dare to say the time will yet come when humanity will have to mourn a new proof of the ancient truth, that without community national freedom is never sure.

However, the cradle of American Liberty is not only famous from the reputation of having been always on the lists of the most powerful eloquence; it is still more conspicuous for having seen that eloquence attended by practical success. To understand the mystery of this rare circumstance one must see the people of New England, and especially the people of Massachusetts.

In what I have seen of New England there are two things, the evidence of which strikes the observer at every step—prosperity and intelligence. I have seen thousands assembled, following the noble impulses of a generous heart: almost the entire population of every town, of every village where I passed, gathered around me, throwing flowers of consolation on my path. I have seen not a single man bearing that mark of poverty upon himself which in old Europe strikes the eye sadly at every step. I have seen no ragged poor—have seen not a single house bearing the appearance of desolated poverty. The cheerfulness of a comfortable condition, the result of industry, spreads over the land. One sees at a glance that the people work assiduously, not with the depressing thought just to get through the cares of a miserable life from day to day by hard toil, but they work with the cheerful consciousness of substantial happiness. And the second thing which I could not fail to remark, is the stamp of intelligence impressed upon the very eyes and outward appearance of the people at large. I and my companions have seen them in the factories, in the workshops, in their houses, and in the streets, and could not fail a thousand times to think "how intelligent this people looks." It is to such a people that the orators of Faneuil Hall had to speak, and therein is the mystery of success. They were not wiser than the public spirit of their audience, but they were the eloquent interpreters of the people's enlightened instinct.

No man can force the harp of his own individuality into the people's heart, but every man may play upon the chords of his people's heart, who draws his inspiration from the people's instinct. Well, I thank God for having seen the public spirit of the people of Massachusetts, bestowing its attention on the cause I plead, and pronouncing its verdict. In respect to the question of national intervention, his Excellency the high-minded Governor of Massachusetts wrote a memorable address to the Legislature; the Joint Committee of the Legislative Assembly, after a careful and candid consideration of the subject, not only concurred in the views of the Executive government, but elucidated them in a report, the irrefutable logic and elevated statesmanship of which will for ever endear the name of Hazewell to oppressed nations; and the Senate of Massachusetts adopted the resolutions proposed by the Legislative Committee. After such remarkable and unsolicited manifestations of conviction, there cannot be the slightest doubt that all these Executive and Legislative proceedings not only met the full approbation of the people of Massachusetts, but were the solemn interpretation of public opinion. A spontaneous outburst of popular sentiment tells often more in a single word than all the skill of elaborate eloquence could; as when, amidst the thundering cheers of a countless multitude, a man in Worcester greeted me with the shout: "We worship not the man, but we worship the principle." It was a word, like those words of flame spoken in Faneuil Hall, out of which liberty in America was born. That word reveals the spirit, which, applying eternal truth to present exigencies, moves through the people's heart—that word is teeming with the destinies of America.

Give me leave to mention, that having had an opportunity to converse with leading men of the great parties, which are on the eve of an animated contest for the Presidency—I availed myself of that opportunity, to be informed of the principal issues, in case the one or the other party carries the prize; and having got the information thereof, I could not forbear to exclaim—"All these questions together cannot outweigh the all-overruling importance of foreign policy." It is there, in the question of foreign policy, that the heart of the immediate future throbs. Security and danger, prosperity and stagnation, peace and war, tranquillity and embarrassment—yes, life and death, will be weighed in the scale of Foreign Policy. It is evident things are come to the point where they were in ancient Rome, when old Cato never spoke privately or publicly about whatever topic, without closing his speech with these words: "However, my opinion is that Carthage must be destroyed"—thus advertising his countrymen, that there was one question outweighing in importance all other questions, from which public attention should never for a moment be withdrawn.

Such, in my opinion, is the condition of the world now. Carthage and Rome had no place on earth together. Republican America and all-overwhelming Russian absolutism cannot much longer subsist together on earth. Russia active—America passive—there is an immense danger in that fact; it is like the avalanche in the Alps, which the noise of a bird's wing may move and thrust down with irresistible force, growing every moment. I cannot but believe it were highly time to do as old Cato did, and finish every speech with these words—"However, the law of nations should be maintained, and absolutism not permitted to become omnipotent."

It is however a consolation to me to know, that the chief difficulty with which I have to contend,—viz. the overpowering influence of domestic questions with you,—is neither lasting, nor in any way an argument against the justice of our cause.

Another difficulty which I encounter is rather curious. Many a man has told me that if I had only not fallen into the hands of abolitionists and free soilers, they would have supported me; and had I landed somewhere in the South, instead of at New York, I should have met quite different things from that quarter; but being supported by the free-soilers, of course I must be opposed by the South. On the other side, I received a letter, from which I beg leave to quote a few lines:—

"You are silent on the subject of slavery. Surrounded as you have been by slaveholders ever since you put your foot on English soil, if not during your whole voyage from Constantinople, and ever since you have been in this country surrounded by them, whose threats, promises, and flattery made the stoutest hearts succumb, your position has put me in mind of a scene described by the apostle of Jesus Christ, when the devil took him up into a high mountain," &c.

Now, gentlemen, thus being charged from one side with being in the hands of abolitionists, and from the other side with being in the hands of slaveholders, I indeed am at a loss what course to take, if these very contradictory charges were not giving me the satisfaction to feel that I stand just where it is my duty to stand—on a truly American ground.

And oh, have I not enough upon these poor shoulders, that I am desired yet to take up additional cares? If the cause I plead be just, if it is worthy of your sympathy, and at the same time consistent with the impartial consideration of your own moral and material interests, (which a patriot never should disregard, not even out of philanthropy,) then why not weigh that cause in the scale of its own value, and not in a foreign one? Have I not difficulties enough before me here, that I am desired to increase them with my own hands?—Father Mathew goes on preaching temperance, and he may be opposed or supported on his own ground; but who ever thought of opposing him because he takes not into his hands to preach fortitude or charity? And indeed, to oppose or to abandon the cause I plead, only because I mix not with the agitation of an interior question, is a greater injustice yet, because to discuss the question of foreign policy I have a right,—my nation is an object of that policy; we are interested in it;—but to mix with interior party movements I have no right, not being a citizen of the United States.

[After this Kossuth proceeded to urge, as in former speeches, that the interests of American commerce were not opposed to, but were identified with, the cause of Hungary and of European Liberty. He also adduced new considerations, which are afterwards treated more fully in his speech at Buffalo.]

* * * * *

XLIII.—SELF-GOVERNMENT OF HUNGARY.

[Banquet in Faneuil Hall.]

On April 30th, Kossuth was entertained at a Grand Banquet, by the Governor and Council, and the Members of the two Houses. Eight hundred and seventy tickets besides were issued, and were all taken up. The Honourable Henry Wilson, President of the Senate, was President for the evening. It is not possible here to print all the speeches, but it may be noted that Governor Boutwell, in reply to a toast, elicited affirmative replies from the guests to many questions directed to show the necessity of American armed interference on the side of Hungary. Also, the venerable Josiah Quincy, aged eighty, in reply to a toast, declared that liberty remained only in the United States and Great Britain, and that in Great Britain herself the spirit of freedom is weakened. "Let Great Britain fail and be beaten down, and all the navies of Europe will be bristling against the United States." Finally, President Wilson, introducing the guest of the evening, said:—

"Gentlemen, allow me to present to you the illustrious guest of Massachusetts, Governor Kossuth. He has won our admiration as a man by the advocacy of the cause of his country, and he has won all our hearts by the purity of his principles."

Kossuth, in reply, noticed that the toast with which he had been honoured was almost entirely personal; and while disclaiming merit, he was nevertheless induced to advert to personal incidents, (now generally known,) as,—how he published in MS. the Hungarian debates,—was unlawfully imprisoned for it, and learned English in prison by means of Shakespeare; how when he was necessarily released, the government imposed an unlawful censorship on his journal, which journal nevertheless became the basis of the great and extensive reforms which received their completion in the laws of March and April, 1848. After this he proceeded as follows:—

Gentlemen, allow me to say a few words on the ancient institutions of Hungary. I have often heard it said that the people of Europe are incapable of self-government. Let me speak of the people of Hungary, to show whether they are capable of self-government or not. In thirty-six years, with God's help, and through your generous aid, the free people of Hungary will celebrate the 1000th anniversary of the establishment of their home—the millennium of Hungary in Europe. Yes, gentlemen, may I hope that celebration will take place under the blessings of liberty in the year 1889?

It is a long period—one thousand years—and Oh! how it has teemed with adversities to my countrymen! and yet through this long time, amid all adversities there was no period when the people of Hungary did not resist despotism. Our boast is, that through the vicissitudes of a thousand years there was not a moment when the popular will and the legal authorities had sanctioned the rule of absolutism. And, gentlemen, what other people, for 1000 years, has not consented to be ruled by despotism? Even in the nineteenth century I am glad to look back to the wisdom of our fathers through a thousand years—who laid down for Hungarian institutions a basis which for all eternity must remain true. This basis was upon that Latin proverb nil de nobis, sine nobis—"nothing about us without us." That was, to claim that every man should have a full share in the sovereignty of the people and a full share in the rights belonging to his nation. In other times a theory was got up to convince the people that they might have a share in legislation just so far as to control that legislation, but denying the right of the people to control the executive power. The Hungarian people never adopted that theory. They ever claimed a full share in the executive as well as in the legislative and judicial power. Out of this idea of government rose the municipal system of Hungary. In respect to Hungarian aristocracy, you must not consider it in the same light as the aristocracy of England. The word nobleman in Hungary originally was equivalent to soldier. Every man who defended his country was a nobleman, and every man who had a vote was called to defend his country. I believe the duty of defending a man's country, and also political right, should be common.

After our people had conquered a home, the leaders took the lion's share, of course. But it should be considered that those who had the largest share of the property, were compelled to furnish soldiers according to the extent of their possessions. Therefore such men gave a part of their land to people to cultivate, and desired aid of them whenever the necessity for war came. So all who defended their country were considered noblemen. Hungary was divided into fifty-two counties, but not counties like yours—some of them were so populous as to be comparable to your States, containing perhaps half a million or more of people, and those who became the aristocracy in some of these counties amounted to 35,000. In every county was a fortress, and whenever defence became necessary, the rich men went into these fortresses under their own banner, and the others went under the King's colours, and were commanded by the sheriff of the county, who might be here Governor—at least who was the chief of the Executive. Certain of the cities were raised to constitutional rights. A smaller city, if surrounded by fortifications, or if an important post, was represented in the Diet, whilst larger places, if not posts of importance for national defence, were represented only by the County Delegates. Every place that had the elements of defence had political rights. So it came to pass that the aristocracy were not a few men, but half a million. I had contended to beat down this barrier of aristocracy. Before the Revolution, in municipal governments only the nobility had a share—they only were the men who could vote: but the change was easy. The frame of self-government was ready. We had only to say, the people instead of the nobility had the right to vote; and so, in one day, we buried aristocracy, never to rise again. Each county elected its Representatives to the Diet, and had the right of intercourse with other counties by means of letters on all matters of importance to these counties; and therefore our fifty-two primary councils were normal schools of public spirit. We elected our Judicatory and Executive, and the government had not a right to send instructions or orders to our Executive; and if an order came which we considered to be inconsistent with our constitutional rights, it was not sent to the Executive, but to the Council; and therefore the arbitrary orders of the Government could not be executed, because they came not into the hands of the Executive. Thus were our Councils barriers against oppression.

When the French took Saragossa, it was not enough to take the city—they had to take every house. So also we went on, and though some counties might accept the arbitrary orders of the government, some resisted; and, by discussing in their letters to the other counties the points of right, enlightened them; and it was seen that when the last house in Saragossa had been beaten down, the first stood erect again. In consequence of the democratic nature of our institutions, our Councils were our Grand Juries. But after having elected our Judges, we chose several men in every county meeting, of no public office, but conspicuous for their integrity and knowledge of the law, to assist the Judges in their administration.

Believe me, these institutions had a sound basis, fit to protect a nation against an arbitrary government which was aiming at centralization and oppression. Now, these counties having contended against the Austrian Government, it did everything to destroy them. The great field was opened in the Diet of 1847. Having been elected by the county of Pest, I had the honour to lead the party devoted to national rights and opposed to centralization and in defence of municipal authority. It was my intention to make it impossible that the Government should in future encroach upon the liberties of the people. We had the misfortune in Hungary to be governed by a Constitutional King, who at the same time was the absolute monarch of another realm—by birth and interests attached to absolutism and opposed to constitutional government. It was difficult to be an absolute monarch and behave as King of Hungary. There is on record a speech of mine, spoken in the Hungarian Diet, about the inconsistency of these two attributes in one man—that either Austria must become constitutional, or Hungary absolutistical. That speech virtually made the Revolution of 1848 at Vienna. After this Revolution, I was sent to Vienna to ask that our laws be established, releasing the people from feudal rights and demanding a constitutional ministry. Then it was that a circumstance occurred, to which I heard an allusion in the toast offered to me. I was told the King would grant our request; only, there was agitation in Vienna, and it would look as if the King were yielding to pressure. If the people would be quiet, the King would sanction our laws. Then I said, that if the King would give his sanction to our legislative measures, peace would be made for the House of Austria in twenty-four hours. But when that consent was given in one Chamber, in another Chamber that wicked woman, Sophia, the mother of the present Emperor, who calls himself King of Hungary—no, he does not call himself King of Hungary, for he thinks the national existence of Hungary is blotted out—plotted how to ruin my people and destroy that sanction which was nothing but a necessary means to secure a just cause. Next came the Hungarian ministry—and, strange to say, I saw myself placed close to the throne.

When in Vienna, after the sanction was granted, steps were taken to retract it; I went to the Arch-Duke Stephen, the Palatine of Hungary, the first constitutional authority of Hungary,—the elective viceroy, and told him he ought to return to Hungary if he wished to preserve his influence.

He answered that he could not return to Hungary, for if the King did not sanction our laws—he (the Arch-Duke Stephen) might be proclaimed King instead of the Emperor of Austria, and he would never dethrone his cousin.

I answered, that he spoke like an honest man, but perhaps the time would come when he would find an empty seat on that throne, and he had better take it, for I could assure him, if he did not, no other man ever would with the consent of the people. When five months later, in Hungary, we met for the last time, he called me to his house on a stormy night, and desired of me to know what would be the issue of matters. I answered: I can see no issue for you, but the crown or else the scaffold, and then for the people a Republic. But even from this alternative I will relieve you: for you the crown, for me the scaffold, if the Hungarian independence is not achieved.—I make no hesitation here to confess that such was the embarrassed state of Hungarian affairs that I should have felt satisfied for him to have accepted the crown. Remember that your fathers did not design at first to sever the ties which bound the colonies to England, but circumstances forced the issue. So it was with us. We asked at first only Democratic institutions, but when it was possible we were glad to throw away our Kings.

The Arch-Duke did not accept, but was rather a traitor to his country. Such is the connection of tyrants with each other, they desire not to prevent others from oppressing. He is now an exile like myself. If he had accepted the proposal, no doubt the independence of Hungary would have been recognized by even Russia, especially if he had formed a family alliance with despotism, and then for centuries the establishment of a Republic would have been impossible; whereas, now, as sure as there is a God in Heaven, no King will ever rule Hungary; but it must be one of those Republics, wherein Republicanism is not a mere romance but a reality, founded upon the basis of municipal authorities, to which the people are attached. We could never have such a movement as disgraced France in December.

Excuse me, gentlemen, if I abuse your kindness. I am anxious to make known my ideas upon the future organization of my country. The organization which alone we could propose, is one founded upon the sovereignty of the people, not only in a legislative capacity —for it is not enough that we know that sovereignty by casting a vote once in three or four years: we must feel it every day, everywhere. The sovereignty of the people asserts, that men have certain rights, not depending on any power, but natural rights. I mean such as religious liberty—free thought—a free press, and the right of every family to regulate its own affairs: but not only every family; also every town, city, and county. Our sovereignty shall be such, that the higher government will have no power to interfere in the domestic concerns of any town, city, or county. These are the principles upon which our government will be founded—not only sovereignty in Legislation, but a particular share in the executive Government.—Judge whether such a people is worthy to meet the sympathy of Republicans like you, who have shown to the world that a nation may be powerful without centralization. Believe me, there is harmony in our ancient principles and your recent ones. Judge whether my people is capable of self-government.

The venerable gentleman (Josiah Quincy) spoke a word about England. I believe the Anglo-Saxon race must have a high destiny in the history of mankind. It is the only race, the younger brother of which is free while the elder brother has also some freedom. You, gentlemen, acknowledge that from the mother country you obtained certain of your principles of liberty—free thought and speech, a free press, &c.—and I am sure, gentlemen, the English people are proud of liberty. Called to pronounce against the league of despots, if the Republican United States and constitutional England were in concord, what would be the consequence?

I answer, it would be exactly as when the South American Republic was threatened—as when Russia forbade American vessels to approach within a hundred miles of its American shores. I have often met in the United States an objection against an alliance with England; but it is chiefly the Irish who are opposed to being on good terms with England. In respect to the Irish, if I could contribute to the future unity in action of the United States and England, I should more aid the Irish than by all exclamations against one or other. If the United States and England were in union, the continent of Europe would be republican. Then, though England remained monarchical, Ireland would be freer than now. If I were an Irishman, I would not have raised the standard of Repeal, which offended the people of England, but the standard of municipal self-government against parliamentary omnipotence—not as an Irish question, but as a common question to all—and in this movement the people of England and Scotland would have joined; and now there would have been a Parliament in England, in Ireland, and Scotland. Such is the geographical position of Great Britain, that its countries should be, not one, but united; each with its own Parliament, but still one Parliament for all. If I could contribute to get England to oppose the encroachments of absolutism, I should be doing more to aid Ireland, in aiding freedom, than if I so acted as to induce England to look indifferently at the approach of absolutism. I was glad to hear the words of that venerable gentleman (Josiah Quincy). They brought to my mind the words of John Adams, first minister of the United States to England. When he addressed the King, he said:—"He would be happy could he restore entire esteem, confidence, and affection between the United States and England," and King George III. replied: "I was the last to conform to the separation, and I am the first to meet the friendship of the United States. Let the communities of language, religion, and blood have their full and natural effect."

'Let this precedent, belonging to the intelligence not of to-day only—let those words become now considered of particular interest to both countries, and it would be of the greatest benefit to mankind. There is nothing more necessary to secure the freedom of Europe than consent to act together, on the part of the United States and England.

It is not necessary to say how far they will go, but only necessary to say they will do as much as their interests allow, and what may be necessary that the law of nations should be protected and not abandoned.

When I was in England nothing gave me more delight than to hear delegations addressing me, mention your Washington, and confess themselves sorry that he had to manifest his greatness in contending against England; but they were more proud to see the greatness of such a man, than not to have been opposed by him. They entrusted me to bring word to the United States, that they wished to be united to you for the benefit of all Humanity.

I was charged particularly by one hundred men connected with commerce at Manchester—the least wealthy of whom was worth, as they express it in England, £10,000 a year—these gentlemen told me it would be a great result of my mission in the United States, if I could convince Americans that Englishmen thought all differences had vanished; and they desired to go hand in hand with the people of the United States, as regards foreign policy. Now, I have observed in New England less objection to the policy of an alliance with England than in many other parts of the United States, and I take it for an evidence of the intelligence and liberality of the people.

I know, gentlemen, you have been pleased to honour me, not for myself (for the people of Massachusetts are not man-worshippers, but reverence principles only)—therefore I cannot better express my thanks than to pledge my word, relying, as on another occasion of deep interest I said, upon the justice of our cause, the blessing of God, iron wills, stout arms, and good swords—and upon your generous sympathy, to do all in my power, with my people, for my country and for humanity; for which indeed in my heart, though, it is somewhat old, there is yet warmth.

After many other toasts, President Wilson called on Judge Hoar to speak. The reply of the Judge had several striking sentences. He closed by saying to Kossuth:

"It is because you, Sir, have learned the truth that Peace is the first interest of no people,—that there are other things more sacred than human life,—that without Justice and Freedom life is only a mockery, and peace a delusion and a burden,—it is because, when tyranny had terminated every duty of a subject, you too[*] have dared to become the MOST NOTORIOUS REBEL of our time, therefore does Massachusetts welcome you to the home of Hancock and of Adams, and the majestic spirit of Washington sheds its benediction upon the scene."

[Footnote *: The Judge alludes to Hancock and Adams, who were excepted by name as "notorious rebels," from General Gage's proclamation of amnesty.]

* * * * *

XLIV.—RUSSIA THE ANTAGONIST OF THE U.S.

[Salem, May 6.]

Ladies and gentlemen,—When four years ago, the tidings of our struggle made the scarcely before known name of Hungary familiar to you, sympathy for a nobly defended noble cause moved your hearts to rejoice at our victories, to feel anxiety about our dangers. Yet, so long as our struggle was but a domestic contest, a resistance against oppression by a perjurious king, you had no reason to think that the sympathy you felt for us, being a generous manifestation of the affections of free men, was at the same time an instinctive presentiment of a policy, which you in your national capacity will be called upon by circumstances, not only to consider, but, as I firmly believe, also to adopt.

You were far from anticipating that the issue of our struggle would become an opportunity for your country to take that position which Divine Providence has evidently assigned to you; I mean the position of a power, not restricted in its influence to the Western Hemisphere, but reaching across the earth. You had not thought that it is the struggle of Hungary which will call on you to fulfil the prophecy of Canning; who comprehended, that it is the destiny of the New World to redress the balance of power in the Old.

The universal importance of our contest has been but late revealed. It has been revealed by the interference of Russia, by our fall, and by its more threatening results.

Now, it has become evident to all thinking men, that the balance of power cannot be redressed unless Hungary is restored to national independence. Consequently if it be your own necessity to weigh in the scale of the powers on earth, if it be your destiny to redress the balance of power, the cause of Hungary is the field where this destiny will have to be fulfilled.

And it is indeed your destiny. Russian diplomacy could never boast of a greater and more fatal victory than it had a right to boast, should it succeed to persuade the United States not to care about her—Russia accomplishing her aim to become the ruling power in Europe; the ruling power in Asia; the ruling power of the Mediterranean sea. That would be indeed a great triumph to Russian diplomacy, greater than her triumph over Hungary; a triumph dreadful to all humanity, but to nobody more dreadful than to your own future.

All sophistry is in vain, gentlemen; there can be no mistake about it. Russian absolutism and Anglo-Saxon constitutionalism are not rival but antagonist powers. They cannot long continue to subsist together. Antagonists cannot hold equal position; every additional strength of the one is a comparative weakening of the other. One or the other must yield. One or the other must perish or become dependent on the other's will.

You may perhaps believe that that triumph of diplomacy is impossible in America. But I am sorry to say, that it has a dangerous ally, in the propensity to believe, that the field of American policy is limited geographically; that there is a field for American, and there is a field for European policy, and that these fields are distinct, and that it is your interest to keep them distinct.

There was a time in our struggle, when, if a man had come from America, bringing us in official capacity the tidings of your brotherly greeting, of your approbation and your sympathy, he would have been regarded like a harbinger of heaven. The Hungarian nation, tired out by the hard task of dearly but gloriously bought victories, was longing for a little test, when the numerous hordes of Russia fell upon us in the hour of momentary exhaustion. Indignation supplied the wanted rest, and we rose to meet the intruding foe; but it was natural that the nation looked around with anxiety, whether there be no power on earth raising its protesting voice against that impious act of trampling down the law of nations, the common property of all humanity? no power on earth to cheer us by a word of approbation of our legitimate defence? Alas! no such word was heard. We stood forsaken and alone! It was upon that ground of forsakenness that treason spread its poison into our ranks. They told my nation, "Your case is hopeless. Kossuth has assured you that if you drive out the Austrians from your territory, and declare your independence, it perhaps will be recognized by the French Republic, probably by England, and certainly by America; but look! none has recognized you; not even the United States, though with them it was from the time of Washington always a constant principle to recognize every government. You are not recognized. You are forsaken by the whole world. Kossuth has assured you, that it is impossible the constitutional powers of the world should permit without a word of protest Russia to interfere with the domestic concerns of Hungary; and look! Russia has interfered, the laws of nations are broken, the political balance of power is upset. Russia has assumed the position of a despotic arbiter of the condition of the world, and still nobody has raised a single word of protest in favour of Hungary's just and holy cause." Such was the insinuation, which Russian diplomacy, with its wonted subterraneous skill, instilled drop by drop into my brave people's manly heart; and alas! I could not say that the insinuation was false. The French Republic, instead of protesting against the interference of Russia, followed its example and interfered itself at Rome. Great Britain, instead of protesting, checked Turkey in her resolution to oppose that new aggrandizement of Russia; and the United States of America remained silent, instead of protesting against the violation of those "laws of nature and of nature's God," in the maintenance of which nobody can be more interested than the great Republic of America.

In short, it was by our feeling forsaken, that the skill of our enemies spread despondency through our ranks; and this despondency, not the arms of Russia, caused us to fall. Self-confidence lost is more than half a defeat. Had America sent a diplomatic agent to Hungary, greeting us amongst the independent powers on earth, recognizing our independence, and declaring Russian interference to be contrary to the laws of nations, that despondency, that loss of self-confidence, had never gained ground among us; without this, treason would have been impossible, and without treason all the disposable power of Russia would never have succeeded to overcome our arms;—never! I should rather have brought the well-deserved punishment home to her, should have shaken her at home. Poland—heroic, unfortunate Poland would now be free, Turkey delivered from the nightmare now pressing her chest, and I, according to all probability, should have seen Moscow in triumph, instead of seeing Salem in exile!

Well, there is a just God in heaven, and there will yet be justice on earth;—the day of retribution will come!

Such being the sad tale of my fatherland, which, by a timely token of your brotherly sympathy might have been saved, and which now has lost everything except its honour, its trust in God, its hope of resurrection, its confidence in my patriotic exertions, and its steady resolution to strike once more the inexorable blow of retribution at tyrants and tyranny;—if the cause I plead were a particular cause, I would place it upon the ground of well-deserved sympathy, and would try to kindle into a flame of excitement the generous affections of your hearts: and I should succeed.

But since a great crisis, which is universally felt to be approaching, enables me to claim for my cause a universality not restricted by the geographical limits of a country or even of Europe itself, or by the moral limits of nationalities, but possessing an interest common to all the Christian world; it is calm, considerate conviction, and not the passing excitement of generous sentiments, which I seek. I hope therefore to meet the approbation of this intelligent assembly, when instead of pleasing you by an attempt at eloquence, for which, in my sick condition, I indeed have not sufficient freshness of mind—I enter into some dry but not unimportant considerations, which the citizens of Salem, claiming the glory of high commercial reputation, will kindly appreciate.

Gentlemen, I have often heard the remark, that if the United States do not care for the policy of the world, they will continue to grow internally, and will soon become the mightiest realm on earth, a Republic of a hundred millions of energetic freemen, strong enough to defy all the rest of the world, and to control the destinies of mankind. And surely this is your glorious lot; but only under the condition, that no hostile combination, before you have in peace and in tranquillity grown so strong, arrests by craft and violence your giant-course; and this again is possible, only under the condition that Europe become free, and the league of despots become not sufficiently powerful to check the peaceful development of your strength. But Russia, too, the embodiment of the principle of despotism, is working hard for the development of her power. Whilst you grow internally, her able diplomacy has spread its nets all over the continent of Europe. There is scarcely a Prince there but feels honoured to be an underling of the great Czar; the despots are all leagued against the freedom of the nations: and should the principle of absolutism consolidate its power, and lastingly keep down the nations, then it must, even by the instinct of self-preservation, try to check the further development of your Republic. In vain they would have spilt the blood of millions, in vain they would have doomed themselves to eternal curses, if they allowed the United States to become the ruling power on earth. They crushed poor Hungary, because her example was considered dangerous. How could they permit you to become so mighty, as to be not only dangerous by your example, but by your power a certain ruin to despotism? They will, they must, do everything to check your glorious progress. Be sure, as soon as they have crushed the spirit of freedom in Europe, as soon as they command all the forces of the Continent, they will marshal them against you. Of course they will not lead their fleets and armies at once across the Ocean. They will first damage your prosperity by crippling your commerce. They will exclude America from the markets of Europe, not only because they fear the republican propagandism of your commerce, but also because Russia requires those markets for her own products.

[He proceeded to argue, that Russian policy, like that of the Magyars in their time of barbarism, is essentially encroaching and warlike; that to be feared, is often more important to Russia than to enjoy a particular market; that the Russian system of commerce is, and must be, prohibitory to republican traffic; that England alone in Europe has large commerce with America, and that the despots, if victorious on the continent, would make it their great object to damage, cripple, and ruin both these kindred constitutional nations. He continued:]

The despots are scheming to muzzle the English lion. You see already how they are preparing for this blow—that Russia may become mistress of Constantinople, by Constantinople mistress of the Mediterranean, and by the Mediterranean of three-quarters of the globe. Egypt, Macedonia, Asia-Minor, the country and early home of the cotton plant, are then the immediate provinces of Russia, a realm with twenty million serfs, subject to its policy and depending on its arbitrary will.

Here is a circumstance highly interesting to the United States. Constantinople is the key to Russia. To be preponderant, she knows it is necessary for her to be a maritime power. The Black Sea is only a lake, like Lake Leman; the Baltic is frozen five months in a year. These are all the seas she possesses. Constantinople is the key to the palace of the Czars. Russia is already omnipotent on the Continent; once master of the Mediterranean, it is not difficult to see that the power which already controls three-quarters of the world, will soon have the fourth quarter.

Whilst the victory of the nations of Europe would open to you the markets, till now closed to your products, the consolidation of despotism destroys your commerce unavoidably. If your wheat, your tobacco, your cotton, were excluded from Europe but for one year, there is no farm, no plantation, no banking-house, which would not feel the terrible shock of such a convulsion.

And hand-in-hand with the commercial restrictions you will then see an establishment of monarchies from Cape Horn to the Rio Grande del Norte. Cuba becomes a battery against the mouth of the Mississippi; the Sandwich Islands a barrier to your commerce on the Pacific; Russian diplomacy will foster your domestic dissensions and rouse the South against the North, and the North against the South, the sea-coast against the inland States, and the inland States against the sea-coast, the Pacific interests against the Atlantic interests; and when discord paralyzes your forces, then comes at last the foreign interference, preceded by the declaration, that the European powers having, with your silent consent, inscribed into the code of international law, the principle that every foreign power has the right to interfere in the domestic affairs of any nation when these become a dangerous example, and your example and your republican principles being dangerous to the absolutist powers, and your domestic dissensions dangerous to the order and tranquillity of Europe, and therefore they consider it their "duty to interfere in America." And Europe being oppressed, you will have, single-handed, to encounter the combined forces of the world! I say no more about this subject. America will remember then the poor exile, if it does not in time enter upon that course of policy, which the intelligence of Massachusetts, together with the young instinct of Ohio, are the foremost to understand and to advance.

A man of your own State, a President of the United States, John Quincy
Adams, with enlarged sagacity, accepted the Panama Mission, to consider
the action of the Holy Alliance upon the interests of the South American
Republics.

Now, I beg you to reflect, gentlemen, how South America is different from Europe, as respects your own country. Look at the thousand ties that bind you to Europe. In Washington, a Senator from California, a generous friend of mine, told me he was thirty days by steamer from the Seat of Government. Well, you speak of distance—just give me a good steamer and good sailors, and you will in twenty days see the flag of freedom raised in Hungary.

I remember that when one of your glorious Stars (Florida, I think it was) was about to be introduced, the question of discussion and objection became, that the distance was great. It was argued that the limits of the government would be extended so far, that its duties could not be properly attended to. The President answered, that the distance was not too great, if the seat of government could be reached in thirty days. So far you have extended your territory; and I am almost inclined to ask my poor Hungary to be accepted as a Star in your glorious galaxy. She might become a star in this immortal constellation, since she is not so far as thirty days off from you.

What little English I know, I learned from your Shakespeare, and I learned from him that "there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in our philosophy." Who knows what the future may bring forth? I trust in God that all nations will become free, and that they will be united for the internal interests of humanity, and in that galaxy of freedom I know what place the United States will have.

One word more. When John Quincy Adams assumed for the United States the place of a power on earth, he was objected to, because it was thought possible that that step might give offence to the Holy Alliance. His answer was in these memorable words: "The United States must take counsel of their rights and duties, and not from their fears."

The Anglo-Saxon race represents constitutional governments. If it be united for these, we shall have what we want, Fair Play; and, relying "upon our God, the justness of our cause, iron wills, honest hearts and good swords," my people will strike once more for freedom, independence, and for Fatherland.

* * * * *

XLV.—THE MARTYRS OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION.

[Lexington, May 11th.]

Kossuth having been invited to visit the first battle fields of the Revolution, was accompanied by several members of the State Committee, on May 11th, to West Cambridge, Lexington, and Concord. He had already visited Bunker Hill on the 3d of May, but we have not in these pages found room for his speech there. At West Cambridge he was addressed by the Rev. Thomas Hill, and replied: at Lexington also he received two addresses, and the following was his reply:—

Gentlemen,—It has been often my lot to stand upon classical ground, where the whispering breeze is fraught with wonderful tales of devoted virtue, bright glory, and heroic deeds. And I have sat upon ruins of ancient greatness, blackened by the age of centuries; and I have seen the living ruins of those ancient times, called men, roaming about the sacred ground, unconscious that the dust which clung to their boots, was the relic of departed demigods—and I rose with a deep sigh. Those demigods were but men, and the degenerate shapes that roamed around me, on the hallowed ground, were also not less than men. The decline and fall of nations impresses the mark of degradation on nature itself. It is sad to think upon—it lops the soaring wings of the mind, and chills the fiery arms of energy. But, however dark be the impression of such ruins of vanished greatness upon the mind of men who themselves have experienced the fragility of human fate, thanks to God, there are bright spots yet on earth, where the recollections of the past, brightened by present prosperity, strengthen the faith in the future of mankind's destiny. Such a spot is this.

Gentlemen, should the reverence which this spot commands allow a smile, I might feel inclined to smile at the eager controversy whether it was at Lexington or Concord that the fire of the British was first returned by Americans. Let it be this way or that way,—it will neither increase nor abate the merit of the martyrs who fell here. It is with their blood that the preface of your nation's history is written. Their death was, and always will be, the first bloody revelation of America's destiny; and Lexington, the opening scene of a revolution, of which Governor Boutwell was right to say, that it is destined to change the character of human governments, and the condition of the human race.

Should the Republic of America ever lose the consciousness of this destiny, that moment would be just so surely the beginning of America's decline, as the 19th of April, 1775, was the beginning of the Republic of America.

Prosperity is not always, gentlemen, a guarantee of the future, if it be not accompanied with a constant resolution to obey the call of the genius of the time. Nay, material prosperity is often the mark of real decline, when it either results in, or is connected with, a moral stagnation in the devoted attachment to principles. Rome was never richer, never mightier, than under Trajan, and still it had already the sting of death in its very heart.

To me, whenever I stand upon such sacred ground as this, the spirits of the departed appear like the prophets of future events. The language they speak to my heart is the revelation of Providence.

The struggle of America for independence was providential. It was a necessity. Those circumstances which superficial consideration takes for the motives of the glorious Revolution, were but accidental opportunities for it. Had those circumstances not occurred, others would have occurred, and might have presented perhaps a different opportunity; but the Revolution would have come. It was a necessity, because the colonies of America had attained that lawful age in the development of all the elements of national existence, which claims the right to stand by itself, and cannot any longer be led by a child's leading-strings, be the hand which leads it a mother's or a step-mother's. Circumstances and the connection of events were such, that this unavoidable emancipation had to pass the violent concussion of severe trials. The immortal glory of your forefathers was, that they did not shrink to accept the trial, and were devoted and heroic to sacrifice themselves to their country's destiny. And the monuments you erect to their memory, and the religious reverence with which you cherish the memory, are indeed well deserved tributes of gratitude.

But allow me to say, there is a tribute which those blessed spirits are still more eager to claim from you as the happy inheritance of the fruits they have raised for you; it is, the tribute of always remaining true to their principle; devoted to the destiny of your country, which destiny is to become the corner-stone of LIBERTY on earth. Empires can be only maintained by the same virtue by which they have been founded. Oh! let me hope that, while the recollections connected with this hallowed ground, inspire the heart of a wandering exile with consolation, with hope, and with perseverance (from the very fact that I have stood here, brought with the anxious prayers and expectations of the Old World's oppressed millions), you will see the finger of God pointing out the appropriate opportunity to act your part in America's destiny, by maintaining the laws of Nature and of Nature's God, for which your heroes fought and your martyrs died; and to regenerate the world.

"Proclaiming freedom in the name of God,"

till—to continue in the beautiful words of your Whittier—

——"Its blessings fall
Common as dew and sunshine over all."

[From Lexington Kossuth proceeded to Concord, and was there addressed by the well-known author, Ralph Waldo Emerson. His reply was at greater length, and on the same subject as at Lexington; yet a part of it may here be printed.]

Kossuth said:—

In my opinion, there is not a single event in history so distinctly marked to be providential—and providential with reference to all humanity—as the colonization, revolution, and republicanism of the now United States of America.

This immense continent being peopled with elements of European civilization, could not remain a mere appendix to Europe. But when it is connected with Europe by a thousand social, moral, and material ties, by blood, religion, language, science, civilization, and commerce, to believe that it can rest isolated in politics from Europe, would be just such a fault as it was that England did not believe in time the necessity of America's independence. Yes, gentlemen, this is so sure to me, that I would pledge life, honour, and everything dear to man's heart and honourable to man's memory, that either America must take her becoming part in the political regeneration of Europe, or she herself must yield to the pernicious influence of European politics. There was never yet a more fatal mistake, than it would be to believe, that by not caring about the political condition of Europe, America may remain unaffected by the condition of Europe. I could perhaps understand such an opinion, if you would or could be entirely isolated from Europe; but as you are not isolated, as you cannot be, as you cannot even have the will to be (for that very will would be a paradox, a logical absurdity, impossible to be carried out, being contrary to the eternal laws of God, which he for nobody's sake will change); therefore to believe that you can go on to be connected with Europe in a thousand respects, and still remain unaffected by its social and political condition, would be indeed a fatal delusion.

You stretch out your gigantic hands a thousandfold every day over the waves; your relations with Europe are not only commercial as with Asia, they are also social, moral, spiritual, intellectual; you take Europe every day by the hand. How then could you believe, that if that hand of Europe, which you grasp every day, remains dirty, you can escape from soiling your own hands? The cleaner they are, all the more will the filth of old Europe stick to them. There is no possible means to escape from being soiled, than to help us, Europeans, to wash the hands of our old world.

You have heard of the ostrich, that when persecuted by an enemy, it is wont to hide its head, leaving its body exposed; it believes that by not regarding it, it will not be seen by the enemy. That curious aberration is worthy of reflection. It is typical.

Yes, gentlemen, either America will _re_generate the condition of the old world, or it will be _de_generated by the condition of the old world.

Sir, I implore you (Mr. Emerson), give me the aid of your philosophical analysis, to impress the conviction upon the public mind of your nation that the Revolution, to which CONCORD was the preface, is full of a higher destiny—of a destiny broad as the world, broad as humanity itself. Let me entreat you to apply the analytic powers of your penetrating intellect, to disclose the character of the American Revolution, as you disclose the character of self-reliance, of spiritual laws, of intellect, of nature, or of politics. Lend the authority of your judgment to the truth, that the destiny of American revolution is not yet fulfilled; that the task is not yet completed; that to stop half way, is worse than would have been not to stir: repeat those words of deep meaning which once you wrote about the monsters that looked backward, and about the walking with reverted eye, while the voice of the Almighty says, "up and onward for ever more," while moreover the instinct of your people, which never fails to be right, answered the call of destiny by taking for its motto the word ahead.

Indeed, gentlemen, the monuments you raised to the heroic martyrs who fertilized with their hearts' blood the soil of liberty—these monuments are a fair tribute of well-deserved gratitude, gratifying to the spirits who are hovering around us and honourable to you. Woe to the people which neglect to honour its great and good men; but believe me, gentlemen, those blessed spirits would look down with saddened brows to this free and happy land, if ever they were doomed to see that the happy inheritors of their martyrdom imagined that the destiny to which that martyr blood was consecrated, is accomplished, and its price fully paid in the already achieved results, because the living generation dwells comfortably and makes TWO DOLLARS out of one.

No, gentlemen, the stars in the sky have a higher aim than merely to illumine the night-path of some lonely wanderer. The course your nation is called to run, is not yet half performed. Mind the fable of Atalanta: it was a golden apple thrown into her way which made her fall short in her race.

Two things I have met here in these free and mighty United States, which I am at a loss how to make concord. The two things I cannot harmonize are:—First, that all your historians, all your statesmen, all your distinguished orators, who wrote or spoke, characterize it as AN ERA in mankind's history, destined to change the condition of the world, upon which it will rain an everflowing influence. And secondly, in contradiction to this universally adopted creed, I have met in many quarters a propensity to believe that it is conservative wisdom not to take any active part in the regulation of the outward world.

These two things do not agree. If that be the destiny of America, which you all believe to be, then that destiny can never be fulfilled by acting the part of passive spectators, and by this very passivity granting a charter to ambitious Czars to dispose of the condition of the world.

I have met distinguished men trusting so much to the operative power of your institutions and of your example, that they really believe they will make their way throughout the world merely by their moral influence. But there is one thing those gentlemen have disregarded in their philanthropic reliance; and that is, that the ray of the sun never yet made its way by itself through well-closed shutters and doors—they must be drawn open, that the blessed rays of the sun may get in. I have never yet heard of a despot who yielded to the moral influence of liberty. The ground of Concord itself is an evidence of it; the doors and shutters of oppression must be opened by bayonets, that the blessed rays of your institutions may penetrate into the dark dwelling-house of oppressed humanity.

There are men who believe the position of a power on earth will come to you by itself; but oh! do not trust to this fallacy; a position never comes by itself; it must be taken, and taken it never will be by passivity.

The martyrs who have hallowed by their blood the ground of Concord, trusted themselves and occupied the place Divine Providence assigned them. Sir, the words are yours which I quote. You have told your people that they are now men, and must accept in the highest mind the same destiny, that they are not minors and invalids in a protected corner; but guides, redeemers, and benefactors, advancing on chaos and on the dark.

I pray God to give to your people the sentiment of the truth you have taught.

Your people, fond of its prosperity, loves peace. Well, who would not love peace; but allow me again, sir, to repeat with all possible emphasis, the great word you spoke, "Nothing can bring you peace but the triumph of principles."

* * * * *

XLVI.—CONDITION OF EUROPE.

[Last Speech in Boston.]

On May 14th, Kossuth, in obedience to a distinct invitation, delivered, in Faneuil Hall, the following ample Speech or Lecture, on the present condition of Europe.

Ladies and gentlemen,—The gigantic struggle of the first French Revolution associated the name of FRANCE so much with the cause of freedom in Europe, that all the world got accustomed to see it take the lead in the struggle for European liberty; and to look to it as a power entrusted by Providence with the initiation of revolutions; as a power, without the impulse of which, no liberal movement had any hope on the European continent.

I, from my earliest days, never shared that opinion. I felt always more sympathy with the Anglo-Saxon character and Anglo-Saxon institutions, which raised England, notwithstanding its monarchy and its aristocracy, to a position prouder than Rome ever held in its most glorious days: and which, free from monarchical and aristocratical elements here in America, lie at the foundation of a political organization, upon which the first true democratic Republic was consolidated and developed into freedom, power, and prosperity, in such a short time, as to make it a living wonder to the contemporary age, and a book full of instruction to the coming generations.

However, that opinion about the French initiative prevailed in Europe, and it was a great misfortune; for you know that France has always as yet forsaken the movement which it raised in Europe, and the other nations acting not spontaneously, but only following the impulse which the French had imparted to them, faltered and stopped at once, as soon as the French failed them. With that opinion of the French supremacy, no revolution in Europe could have a definite, happy issue.

Freedom never yet was given to nations as a gift, but only as a reward, bravely earned by one's own exertions, own sacrifices, and own toil; and never will, never shall it be attained otherwise.

I speak therefore out of profound conviction, when I say that, though the heart of the philanthropist must feel pained at the new hard trials to which the French nation is, and will yet be exposed, by the momentary success of Louis Napoleon Bonaparte's inglorious usurpation, still that very fact will prove advantageous to the ultimate success of liberty in Europe. Louis Napoleon's coup d'état, much against his will, has emancipated Europe from its reliance upon France. The combined initiative of nations has succeeded to the initiative of France; spontaneity and self-reliance have replaced the depending on foreign impulse and reliance upon foreign aid. France is reduced to the level amongst nations, obliged to join general combinations, instead of regulating them; and this I take for a very great advantage. Many have wondered at the momentary success of Louis Napoleon, and are inclined to take it for an evidence that the French nation is either not capable or not worthy to be free. But that is a great fallacy. The momentary success of Louis Napoleon is rather an evidence that France is thoroughly democratic. All the revolutions in France have resulted in the preponderance of that class which bears the denomination of bourgeoisie. Amongst all possible modifications of oppression, none is more detested by the people than oppression by an Assembly. The National Assembly of France was the most treacherous the world has ever yet known. Issued from universal suffrage, it went so far as to abolish universal suffrage, and every day of its existence was a new blow stricken at democracy for the profit of the bourgeoisie. Louis Napoleon has beaten asunder that Assembly, which the French democracy had so many reasons to hate and to despise, and the people applauded him as the people of England applauded Cromwell when he whipped out the Rump Parliament.

But by what means was Louis Napoleon permitted to do even what the people liked to see done? By no other means, but by flattering the principle of Democracy; he restored the universal suffrage; it is an execrable trick, to be sure—it is a shadow given for reality; but still it proves that the democratic spirit is so consolidated in France, that even despotic ambition must flatter it. Well, depend upon it, this democracy, which the victorious usurper feels himself constrained to flatter in the brightest moments of his triumph—this democracy will either make out of Louis Napoleon a tool, which in spite of itself serves the democracy, or it will crush him.

France is the country of sudden changes, and of unthought of accidents. I therefore will not presume to tell the events of its next week, but one alternative I dare to state: Louis Napoleon either falls or maintains himself. The fall of Louis Napoleon, even if brought about by the old monarchical parties, can have no other issue than a Republic—a Republic more faithful to the community of freedom in Europe than all the former Revolutions have been. Or if Louis Napoleon maintains himself, he can do so only either by relying upon the army, or by flattering the feelings and interests of the masses. If he relies upon the army, he must give to it glory and profit, or, in other words, he must give to it war. Well, a war of France, against whomsoever it be, or for whatever purposes, is the best possible chance for the success of a European Revolution. Or if Louis Napoleon relies upon the feelings of the masses—as indeed he appears willing to do—in that case, in spite of himself, he becomes a tool in the hands of democracy; and if, by becoming such, he forsakes the allegiance of his masters—the league of absolutistical powers—well, he will either be forced to attack them, or be attacked by them.

So much for France; now as to ITALY.

Italy! the sunny garden of Europe, whose blossoms are blighted by the icy north wind from St. Petersburg—Italy, that captured nightingale, placed under a fragrant bush of roses, beneath an ever blue sky! Italy was always the battlefield of the contending principles, since, hundreds of years ago, the German emperors, the kings of Spain, and the kings of France, fought their private feuds, their bloody battles on her much coveted soil; and by their destructive influence, kept down all progress, and fostered every jealousy. By the recollections of old, the spirit of liberty was nowhere so dangerous for European absolutism as in Italy. And this spirit of republican liberty, this warlike genius of ancient Rome, was never extinguished between the Alps and the Faro.

We are taught by the scribes of absolutism to speak of the Italians as if they were a nation of cowards, and we forget that the most renowned masters of the science of war, the greatest generals up to our day, were Italians,—Piccolomini, Montecucculi, Farnese, Eugene of Savoy, Spinola, and Bonaparte—a galaxy of names whose glory is dimmed only by the reflection that none of them fought for his own country. As often as the spirit of liberty awoke in Italy, the servile forces of Germany, of Spain, and of France poured into the country, and extinguished the glowing spark in the blood of the people, lest it should once more illumine the dark night of Europe. Frederic Barbarossa destroyed Milan to its foundations, when it attempted to resist his imperial encroachments by the league of independent cities; and led the plough over the smoking ruins. Charles the Fifth had to gather all his powers around him to subdue Florence, when it declared itself a democratic republic. Napoleon extinguished the last remnants of republican self-government by crushing the republics of Venice, Genoa, Lucca, Ragusa, and left only, to ridicule republicanism, the commonwealth of San Marino untouched. The Holy Alliance parted the spoils of Napoleon, riveted afresh the iron fetters which enslave Italy, and forged new spiritual fetters; prevented the extension of education, and destroyed the press, in order that the Italians should not remember their past.

Every page, glorious in their history for twenty-five centuries, is connected with the independence of Italy; every stain upon their honour is connected with foreign rule. And the burning minds of the Italians, though all spiritual food is denied to them, cannot be taught not to remember their past glory and their present degradation. Every stone speaks of the ancient glory; every Austrian policeman, every French soldier, of the present degradation. The tyrants have no power to unmake history, and to silence the feelings of the nation. And amongst all the feelings powerful to stir up the activity of mankind, there is none more penetrating than unmerited degradation, which impels us to redeem our lost honour. What is it therefore that keeps those petty tyrants of Italy, who are jealous of one another, on their tottering thrones, divided as they are among themselves, whilst the revolutionizing spirit of liberty unites the people? It is only the protection of Austria, studding the peninsula with her bayonets and with her spies. And Austria herself can dare this, only because she relies upon the assistance of Russia. She can send her armies to Italy, because Russia guards her eastern dominions. Let Russia stand off, and Austria is unable to keep Italy in bondage; and the Italians, united in the spirit of independence, will easily settle their account with their own weak princes. Keep off the icy blast which blows from the Russian snows, and the tree of freedom will grow up in the garden of Europe; though cut down by the despots, it will spring anew from the roots in the soil, which was always genial for the tree. Remember that no insurrection of Italians has been crushed by their own domestic tyrants without foreign aid; remember that one-third of the Austrian army which occupies Italy are Hungarians who have fought against and triumphed over the yellow-black flag of Austria—under the same tri-colour which, having the same colours for both countries, show emblematically that Hungary and Italy are but two wings of the same army, united against a common enemy. Remember that even now neither the Pope nor the little Princes of middle Italy can subsist without an Austrian and a French garrison; and remember that Italy is a half isle, open from three sides to the friendship of all who sympathize with civil and religious liberty on earth; but from the sea not open to Russia and Austria, because they are not maritime powers; and so long as England is conscious of the basis of its power, and so soon as America gets conscious of the condition upon which its future depends, Austria and Russia will never be allowed to become maritime powers.

And when you feel instinctively that the heart of the Roman must rage with fury when he looks back into the mirror of his past,—that the Venetian cannot help to weep tears of fire and of blood from the Rialto;—when you feel all this, then look back how the Romans have fought in 1849, with a heroism scarcely paralleled in the most glorious day of ancient Rome. And let me tell, in addition, upon the certainty of my own positive knowledge, that the world never yet has seen such complete and extensive revolutionary organization as that of Italy to-day—ready to burst out into an irresistible storm at the slightest opportunity, and powerful enough to make that opportunity, if either foreign interference is checked, or the interfering foreigners occupied at home. The revolution of 1848 has revealed and developed the warlike spirit of Italy. Except a few wealthy proprietors, already very uninfluential, the most singular unanimity exists, both as to aim and to means. There is no shade of difference of opinion, either to what is to be done or how to do it. All are unanimous in their devotion to the Union and Independence of Italy. With France or against France, by the sword, at all sacrifices, without compromise, they are bent on renewing the battle over and over again, with the confidence that, even without aid, they will triumph in the long run.

The difficulty in Italy is not how to make a revolution, but how to prevent its untimely outbreak; and still even in that respect there is such a complete discipline as the world never yet has seen. In Rome, Romagna, Lombardy, Venice, Sicily, and all the middle Italy, there exists an invisible government, whose influence is everywhere discernible. It has eyes and hands in all departments of public service, in all classes of society—it has its taxes voluntarily paid—its organized force, its police, its newspapers regularly printed and circulated, though the possession of a single copy would send the holder to the galleys. The officers of the existing government convey the missives of the invisible government, the diligences transport its agents. One line from one of these agents opens to you the galleries of art, on prohibited days—gives you the protection of uniformed officials.

That this is the condition of all Italy is shown on one side, in the fact that there the King of Naples holds fettered in dungeons 25,000 patriots, and Radetzky has sacrificed nearly 4,000 political martyrs on the scaffold; still the scaffold continues to be watered with blood, and still the dungeons receive new victims, evidently proving what spirit exists in the people of Italy.

And still Americans doubt that we are on the eve of a terrible revolution; and they ask, What use can I make of any material aid? when Italy is a barrel of powder, which the slightest spark may light.

In respect to foreign rule, GERMANY is more fortunate than Italy. From the times of the treaty of Verdun, when it separated from France and Italy, through the long period of more than a thousand years, no foreign power ever has succeeded to rule over Germany; such is the resistive power of the German people to guard its national existence. The tyrants who swayed over them were of their own blood. But to subdue German liberty, those tyrants were always anxious to introduce foreign institutions. First, they swept away the ancient Germanic right, the common law so dear to the English and American, an eternal barrier against the encroachments of despotism, and substituted for it the iron rule of the imperial Roman law. The rule of papal Rome over the minds of Germany crossed the mountains together with the Roman law, and a spiritual dependency was to be established all over the world. The wings of the German eagle were bound, that it should not soar up to the sun of truth. But when the oppression became too severe, the people of Germany rose against the power of Rome;—not the princes,—though they too were oppressed: but the son of the miner of Eisenach, the poor friar, Martin Luther, defied the Pope on his throne, and at his bidding the people of Germany proved, that it is strong enough to shake off oppression; that it is worthy, and that it knows how, to be free. And again, when the French, under their Emperor, whose genius comprehended everything except freedom, extended their moral sway over Germany, when the princes of Germany thronged around the foreign despot, begging kingly crowns from the son of the Corsican lawyer, with whom the Emperors were happy to form matrimonial alliances—with the man who had no other ancestors than his genius,—then it was again the people, which did not join in the degradation of its rulers, but jealous to maintain their national independence, turned the foreigner out though his name was Napoleon, and broke the yoke asunder, which weighed as heavily upon their princes as upon themselves. And still there are men in America who despair of the vitality of the Germans, of their indomitable power to resist oppression, of their love of freedom, and of their devotion to it, proved by a glorious history of two thousand years. The German race is a power, the vitality and influence of which you can trace through the world's history for two thousand years; you can trace it through the history of science and heroism, of industry, and of bold enterprizing spirit. Your own country, your own national character, bear the mark of German vitality. Other nations, now and then, were great by some great men—the German people was always great by itself.

But the German princes cannot bear independence and liberty; they had rather themselves become slaves, the underlings of the Czar, than allow that their people should enjoy some liberty. An alliance was therefore formed, which they blasphemously called the Holy Alliance,—with the avowed purpose to keep the people down. The great powers guaranteed to the smaller princes—whose name is Legion, for they are many,—the power to fleece and torment their people, and promised every aid to them against the insurrection of those, who would find that for liberty's sake it is worth while to risk their lives and property. It was an alliance for the oppression of the nations, not for the maintenance of the princely prerogative. When the Grand-Duke of Baden, in a fit of liberality, granted his people the liberty of the press, the Emperor of Austria and the King of Prussia abolished the law, though it had been carried unanimously by the Legislature of Baden and sanctioned by the prince.—The Holy Alliance had guaranteed to the princes the power to oppress, but not the power to benefit their people.

But though the great powers interfered often in the principalities and little kingdoms of Germany, indeed as often as the spirit of liberty awoke, yet they themselves avoided every occasion which would have forced them to request the aid of their allies, and especially of Russia. They knew too well, that to accept foreign aid against their own people, was nothing else than to lose independence, and was morally the same as to kneel down before the Czar and to take the oath of allegiance. A government which needs foreign aid against its own people, avows that it cannot stand without foreign aid. Take that foreign aid—interference!—away, and it falls.

The dynasties of Austria and Prussia were aware of this. They therefore yielded, as often as their encroachments met a firm resistance from the people. When my nation so resolutely resisted in 1823 the attempt to abolish the constitution, Prince Metternich himself advised the Emperor Francis to yield, and even humbly to apologize to the Diet of 1825. The King of Prussia granted even a kind of constitution rather than claim the assistance of the Czar. Herein you may find the explanation of the fact that the continent of Europe is not yet republican. The spirit of freedom, when roused by oppression, was lulled into sleep by constitutional concessions. The Czar of Russia was well aware, that this system of compromise prevents his intruding into the domestic concerns of Europe, which would lead him to the sovereign mastership over all; he therefore did everything to push the sovereigns to extremities. But this did not succeed, until by a palace-revolution in Vienna a weak and cruel youth was placed on the throne of Austria, and a passionate woman got the reins of government in her hand, and an unprincipled, reckless adventurer was ready to carry out every imperial whim, regardless of the honour of his country and the interests of his master. Russia at last got her aim. Rather than acknowledge the rights of Hungary, they bowed before the Czar, and gave up the independence of the Austrian throne; they became the underlings of a foreign power, rather than allow that one of the peoples of the European Continent should be really free. Since the fall of Hungary, Russia is the real sovereign of all Germany; for the first time Germany has a foreign master! and you believe that Germany will bear that in the nineteenth century which it never yet has borne? Bear that in fulness of age which it never bore in childhood? Soon after, and through the fall of Hungary, the pride of Prussia was humiliated. Austrian garrisons occupied Hamburg; Schleswig-Holstein was abandoned, Hessia was chastised, and all that is dear to Germans purposely affronted. Their dreams of greatness, their longing for unity, their aspirations of liberty, were trampled down into the dust, and ridicule was thrown upon all elevation of mind, upon all manifestation of patriotism. Hassenburg, convicted of forgery by the Prussian courts, became Minister in Hessia; the once outlawed Schwarzenbeg, and Bach, a renegade republican, Ministers of Austria. The peace of the graveyard, which tyrants, under the name of order, are trying to enforce upon the world, has for its guardians outlawed reprobates, forgers, and renegades. Could you believe that with such elements the spirit of liberty can be crushed? Tyrants know that to habituate nations to oppression, the moral feeling of the people has to be killed. But could you really believe that the moral feeling of such a people as the German, stamped in the civilization of which it was one of the generating elements, can be killed, or that it can bear for a long while such an outrage? Do you think that the people which met the insolent bulls of the Pope in Rome by the Reformation and the thirty years' war, and the numberless armies of Napoleon by a general rising—that this people will tamely submit to the Russian influence, more arrogant than the Papal pretensions, more disastrous than the exactions of the French Empire? They broke the power of Rome and of Paris; will they agree to be governed by St. Petersburg? Those who are accustomed to see in history only the Princes, will say Aye, but they forget that since the Reformation it is no longer the Princes who make the history, but the People; they see the tops of the trees are bent by the powerful northern hurricane, and they forget that the stem of the tree is unmoved. Gentlemen, the German princes bow before the Czar, but the German people will never bow before him.

Let me sum up the philosophy of the present condition of Germany in these few words: 1848 and 1849 have proved that the little tyrants of Germany cannot stand by themselves, but only by their reliance upon Austria and Prussia. These again cannot stand by themselves, but only by their reliance upon Russia. Take this reliance away, by maintaining the laws of nations against the principle of interference,—(for the joint powers of America and England can maintain them)—and all the despotic governments, reduced to stand by their own resources of power, must fall before the never yet subdued spirit of the people of Germany, like rotten fruit touched by a gale.

Let me now speak about the condition of my own dear native land. I hope not to meet any contradiction when I say that no condition can and will endure, which is so bad, so insupportable, that, by trying to change it, a people can lose nothing, and may gain everything. No condition can and will endure, the maintenance of which is contrary to every interest of every class. A revolution on the contrary is unavoidable, when every interest of every class wishes and requires it. I will first speak of the lower, and still the most powerful of all, of the material interest.

There are some countries, where, however insupportable the condition of the masses, still the government has an ally in the mighty and influential class of bankers, who lend their money to support despotism, and in those who have invested their fortunes in the shares of these loans, negotiated by bankers, who speculate on and with the fortunes of small capitalists. That class of men, partly tools of oppression, partly the fools of the tools, exists not in Hungary. We have no such bankers in Hungary, and but a very small inconsiderable number who have invested their fortunes in such loan-shares. And even the few who had been playing in the fatal loan-share game have withdrawn from it, at any price, because they feared to lose all. From that quarter therefore the House of Austria has no ally in Hungary.

As to our former aristocracy, a class influential by its connections, and by its large landed property: you remember that, when we succeeded to abolish the feudal charges, and converted millions of our countrymen, of different religion and different language, out of leaseholders into free landed proprietors, we guaranteed an indemnification to the landowners for what they lost. From a farm of about thirty-five to fifty acres of land, the farmer had to work one hundred and two days a year for the landowner; to give him the ninth part of all his crops, half a dollar in ready money, besides particular fees for shopkeeping, brewery, mill, &c. We freed the people from all the encumbrances, and, thanks to God! that benefit never more can be torn from the people's hands. The aristocracy consented to it, because we had guaranteed full indemnification. The very material existence of this class of former landowners is depending on that indemnification, to defray their debts, (which they formerly had the habit wantonly to contract,) and to provide for the cultivation of their own large allodial property, which they formerly cultivated by the hands of their leaseholders, but now have to invest capital into.

Now this indemnification, amounting to one hundred millions of dollars, the House of Austria never can realize. You know, with its centralized government, which is always very expensive, with its standing army of 600,000 men, the only support of its precarious existence, with its army of spies and secret police, with its system of corruption and robbery, with its fourteen hundred millions of debt, with its eternal deficit in its current expenditures, with its new loans to pay the interest of the old, and an unavoidable bankruptcy impending,—this indemnification Austria never can pay to the former aristocracy of Hungary. The only means to get this indemnification is the restoration of Hungary to its independence by a new revolution. Independent Hungary can pay it, because it has no debts, will want no large standing armies, and will have a cheap administration, because not centralized, but municipal, the people governing itself in and through municipalities, the cheapest of all governments.

Hungary has already pointed out the fund, out of which that indemnification can and will be paid, without any imposition upon the people, or any loss to the commonwealth. Hungary has large State lands, belonging to and administered by the commonwealth. I have mathematically proved that the landed property of the State, sold in small parcels to those who have yet no land, connected with a banking operation founded upon that property itself, to facilitate the payment of the price, is more than sufficient for that indemnification; besides, a small land tax (which the new owners of that immense property, divided into small farms, will have to pay, as other landed proprietors), will yield more revenue to the Commonwealth than all the proceeds of domestic administration.

This my proposition, having been submitted to the National Assembly, was accepted and approved, and has attached to the Revolution the numerous class of farm-labourers who have not yet their own farms, but who contemplated with the liveliest joy this benevolent provision, which Austria can never execute; since, financially ruined as she is, she cannot be contented either with the tax revenue or the banking arrangement, to defray the indemnification; she sells the stock whenever she can find a man to buy it.

But here is a remarkable fact, proving how little is the future of Austria contemplated as sure even by its votaries. When any one is willing to sell landed property in Hungary, foreign bankers, Austrian capitalists buy it readily at an enormous price, because they know that private transactions will be respected by our revolution; but from the Government, nobody buys a single acre of land, because every man knows that such a transaction must be considered void. Nay more, not even as a gift is an estate accepted by any one from the present government. Haynau himself was offered in reward a large landed property by the government; he did not accept it, but preferred a comparatively small sum of money, not amounting to one-tenth of the value of the offered land, and he bought from a private individual a landed property, for the money, because that, being a private transaction, is sure to stand: whereas in the future of the Austrian government in Hungary not even its Haynaus have confidence.

The manufacturing interests in Hungary anxiously wish, and must wish, a revolution, because manufacturing industry is entirely ruined now by Austria. All favour, encouragement, and aid, which the national government imparted to industry, is not only withdrawn, but replaced by the old system,—which is, neither to allow Hungary free trade, so as to buy manufactured articles where they can be had in the best quality or at the cheapest price, nor to permit manufacturing at home; but to preserve Hungary in the position of a colonial market—a condition always regarded as insupportable, and sufficient motive for a revolution, as you yourselves from your own history know.

The commercial interest anxiously desire a revolution, because there exists, in fact, no active commerce in Hungary, the Hungarian commerce being degraded into a mere broker-ship of Vienna.

All those who have yet in their hands the Hungarian bank notes issued by my government, must wish a revolution; because Austria, alike foolish as criminal, has declared them to be without value—thus they cannot be restored to value but by a revolution. The amount of those bank notes in the hands of the people is yet about twenty millions of dollars. No menaces, no cruelty can induce the people to give it up to the usurper; they put it into bottles and bury it in the earth. They say: it is good money when Kossuth comes home. But while no menaces of Austria can induce the people to give up this treasure of our impending revolution, a single line of mine, sent home, is obeyed, and the money is treasured up where I have designated.

Do you now understand, gentlemen, by what motive I say that once at home in command—if once our struggle is commenced, I do not want your material aid, and neither wish nor would accept all your millions—but that I want your material aid to get home, and to get home in such a way as will inspire confidence in my people, by seeing me bring home the only thing which it has not—ARMS!

But I am asked, where will I land? That, of course, I will not say—perhaps directly at Vienna, like a Montgolfier, in a balloon; but one thing I may say, because that is no secret:—remember that all Italy is a sea-coast, and that Italy has the same enemy as Hungary—that Italy is the left wing of that army of which Hungary is the right wing, and that in Italy 40,000 Hungarian soldiers exist, as also, in general, in the Austrian army 140,000 Hungarians. More I can, and will not say on the subject.

But I will say that all the amount of taxation the people of Hungary formerly had to pay was but four and a half million dollars, and now it has to pay sixty-five million dollars; that landowners offer their land to the government, to get rid of the land tax, which is larger than all the revenue; that we have raised 600,000 hundredweight of tobacco—now, the monopoly of tobacco being introduced, the people no longer smokes and has burnt its tobacco seed. We have raised 120 million gallons of wine. Gentlemen, I come not to interfere with the domestic concerns of America. I have no opinion about the Maine liquor-law. For myself I am very fond of water, but still may say it is my opinion, it will be many years before the Maine liquor-law will pass through all Europe. Well, gentlemen, I was about to say, one half of the vineyards are cut down;—hundreds of thousands live upon horticulture and fruit cultivation; yet the trees are cut down to escape the heavy taxation laid upon them. The stamp tax is introduced, the most insupportable to freemen—village is divided from village, town from town, city from city, by custom-lines—the poor peasant woman, bringing a dozen of eggs to the market, has to pay the consumption-tax, before she is permitted to enter; and when she brings medicine home for her sick child she has again to pay before permitted to enter her home.

And besides this material oppression, and the daily and nightly vexations connected with it,—the Protestants deprived of the self-government of their church and school, for which they have thrice taken up arms victoriously in three centuries,—the Roman Catholics deprived of the security of their church property,—the people of every race deprived of its nationality, because there exists no public life wherein to exert it, no national existence, no constitution, no municipalities, no native law, no native officials, no security of person and of property, but arbitrary power, martial law, and the hangman and the jail,—and on the other side Hungarian patriotism, Hungarian honour, Hungarian heroism, Hungarian vitality, stamped in the vicissitudes of one thousand years, and the consciousness that we have beaten Austria, when we had no army, no money, no friends, and the knowledge that now we have an army, and for home purposes have money in the safe-guarded bank notes, and have America for a friend; and in addition to all this, the confidence of my people in my exertions, and the knowledge of these exertions; of which my people is quite as well informed as yourselves, nay, more, because it sees and knows what I do at home, whereas you see only what I do here—well, if with all this you still doubt about the struggle in Europe being nigh, and still despair of its chance of success, then God be merciful to my poor brains, I know not what to think.

Some here take me for a visionary. Curious, indeed, if that man who, a poor son of the people, took the lead in abolishing feudal injustices a thousand years old, created a currency of millions in a moneyless nation, and suddenly organized armies out of untrained masses of civilians; directed a revolution so as to fix the attention of the whole world upon Hungary, beat the old, well-provided power of Austria, and crushed its future by his very fall, and forsaken, abandoned, in his very exile is feared by Czars and Emperors, and trusted by foreign nations as well as his own—if that man be a visionary, then for so much pride I may be excused that I would like to look face to face into the eyes of a practical man on earth.

Gentlemen, I had many things yet to say. The condition, change, and prospects of Europe are not spoken of so easily, as you have seen, when only the condition of my own country is touched. I don't know that I shall succeed, but I will try to say something about TURKEY.

Turkey! which deserves your sympathy because it is the country of municipal institutions, the country of religious toleration. Turkey, when she extended her sway over Transylvania and half of Hungary, never interfered with the way in which the inhabitants chose to govern themselves; she even allowed those who lived within her dominions to collect there the taxes voted by independent Hungary, with the aim to make war against the Porte. Whilst in the other parts of Hungary, Protestantism was oppressed by the Austrian policy, and the Protestants several times compelled to take up arms for the defence of religious liberty in Transylvania, under the sovereignty of the Porte the Unitarians got political rights, and Protestantism grew up under the protecting wings of the Ottoman power.

The respect for municipal institutions is so deeply rooted in the minds of the Turks, that at the time when they became masters of the Danubian provinces of Moldavia and Wallachia, they voluntarily excluded themselves from all political rights in the newly acquired provinces; and up to the present day, they do not allow that a mosque should be built, or that a Turk should dwell and own landed property across the Danube. They do not interfere with the taxation or with the internal administration of these provinces; and the last organic law of the Empire, the Tanzimat, is nothing but the re-declaration of the rights of municipalities, guaranteeing them against the centralizing encroachment of the Pashas. Whilst Czar Nicholas is about to convert the Protestant population of Livonia and Estland to the Greek church by force and by alluring promises, the liberal Sultan Abdul Medjid grants full religious liberty to all sects of Protestantism. But we are accustomed to look upon Turkey as upon a third-rate power, only because in 1828 it was defeated by Russia. Let us now see how the balance stood at that time, and how it stands now.

In 1828 the Turkish population was full of hatred on account of the extermination of the Janissaries. The Christian population were ready to rise against the government, on account of the events of the Greek war. Albania was in revolt, because it was opposed to the system of conscriptions for regular military service. Anatolia was discontented on the same ground. Mehemet Ali possessed Egypt, and paralyzed the action of the government in Arabia and Syria. Servia had just laid down arms, but had not yet concluded peace. The Danubian principalities, though unfavourable to Russia, were not hearty in support of the Porte, and remained apathetic under the occupation of Russia. The revenue did not exceed 400,000,000 piastres (20,000,000 dollars), and was insufficient for a second campaign. The new army was not yet organized, and amounted only to 32,000 men, without tried generals. The fleet had been destroyed at Navarino. The foreign diplomatists had left the empire, and the capital was exposed to an attack of the enemy. In such a position no European government could have risked a war.

Russia had just defeated Persia, and by this victory got access to the Asiatic provinces of the Turkish empire; it had therefore to defend the frontiers on both sides. Russia had not yet entered into Circassia, and could therefore rally all her forces; she had not yet abolished the Poland of 1815, and could leave it without garrisons; she had not yet roused the hatred or the jealousies of Europe. She had engaged all the natural allies of the Porte into a combination for rousing the populations of her enemy, and by her diplomacy she gained the power of bringing her fleet into the Mediterranean, for blockading the ports of Turkey; and Navarino opened for her the Black Sea, where she had thirteen men-of-war. Not disturbed by the Porte, by Circassia, by Poland, by France, or by England, she had prepared two years for this war, whilst her enemy, passing through a terrible crisis, was without money, without an organized army, without a fleet, without other resources than the feeble Mussulman population on the seat of war.

Twenty-four years have altered the balance.—Turkey has now the enthusiastic support of her Mussulman population. The Christian population, with the only exception of Bulgaria, partakes of this enthusiasm. All the warlike tribes, from Albania to Kurdistan, are now supporting the authority of the Sultan. Mehemet Ali is gone; Arabia and Syria are again under the dominion of the Sultan. Servia has made peace, and has become the support of Turkey, offering her, in case of a Russian war, 80,000 men. The Principalities have become the enemies of Russia; they had too long to suffer from her oppression. The public revenue has doubled. Turkey has organized a regular army of 200,000 men, equal to any other, and besides, the militia, She has distinguished generals—Omer Pasha, Gruyon. Her fleet is equal to the Russian fleet in the Black Sea, and her steam-fleet superior to the Russian. She has for allies all the people from the Caucasus to the Carpathians. The Circassians, the Tartars under Emir Mirza, the Cossacks of the Dobroja, by whom the electric shock is transmitted to Poland and Hungary, form an unbroken chain, by which the spark is carried into the heart of Europe, where all the combustible elements wait for the moment of explosion. Twenty-four years ago Turkey was believed to be in a decaying state; it is now stronger than it has been for the last hundred years.

Russia, during this time, has been unable to overcome the resistance of Circassia; and, cut off from her south-eastern provinces, she cannot attack Turkey in the rear. The Caucasian lines furnished her, in 1828, with 30,000 men; Poland with 100,000; the two countries require now an army of observation and occupation of 200,000 men; the Danubian principalities absorb again 50,000.

The Russian fleet remains as it was in 1828—thirteen men-of-war then, thirteen now: and whilst, in 1828, she had scarcely an enemy in Europe, she has now scarcely one friend, except the kings. All her enemies, whom she has defeated one by one, have combined against her—Poland, Hungary, the Danubian principalities, Turkey, Circassia.

Where is now the force of Russia! Does she not remind us of the golden image of Nebuchadnezzar, standing on feet of clay?

And yet, gentlemen, this Russia can make doubtful the struggle in Europe—not because powerful in arms, but because it stands ready to support tyrants, when nations are tired out in a struggle, or before they have time to make preparations for resistance: then only is Russia a power to be feared. Well, gentlemen, shall not America stand up, and with powerful voice forbid Russia to interfere when nations have shaken off their domestic tyrants? Gentlemen, remember that Peter the Czar left a last will and testament to the people, that Russia must take Constantinople. Why? that Russia might be a great power: and that it may be so Constantinople is necessary, because no nation can be a great power which is not a maritime power. Now see how Turkey has grown in twenty-four years. The more Russia delays, the stronger Turkey becomes, and therefore is Russia in haste to fulfil the destiny of being a maritime power.

You can now see why is my fear, that this week, or this month, or this year, Russia will attack Turkey, and we shall not be entirely prepared: but though you do not give us "material aid," still we must rise when Turkey is attacked, because we must not lose its 400,000 soldiers. The time draws nigh when you will see more the reason I have to hasten these preparations, that they may be complete, whenever through the death of Nicholas or Louis Napoleon or a thousand other things,—most probably a war between Russia and Turkey,—we want to take time by the forelock.

But, gentlemen, let me close. I am often told, let only the time come when the Republican banner is unfurled in the Old World, then we shall see what America will do. Well, gentlemen, your aid may come too late to be rendered beneficial. Remember 1848 and 1849. Had the nations of Europe not your sympathy? Were your hearts less generous than now? It was not in time—it came after, not before. Was your government not inclined to recognize nations? It sent Mr. Mann to Hungary to inquire—would that when he inquired he had been authorized to recognize our achieved independence!

Gentlemen, let me end. Before all, let me thank you for your generous patience. This is my last meeting. Whatever may be my fate, so much I can say, that the name of Boston and Massachusetts will remain a dear word and a dear name, not only to me but to my people for all time. And whatever my fate, I will, with the last breath of my life, raise the prayer to God that he may bless you, and bless your city and bless your country, and bless all your land, for all the coming time and to the end of time; that your freedom and prosperity may still grow and increase from day to day; and that one glory should be added to the glory which you already have: the glory that America, Republican America, may unite with her other principles the principle of Christian brotherly love among the family of nations; and so may she become the corner stone of Liberty on earth! That is my farewell word to you.

* * * * *

XLVII.—PRONOUNCEMENT OF ALL THE STATES.

[Albany, May 20th.]

On May 20th, Kossuth was received in Albany, the chief city of New York State, by Governor Hunt, in the name of the citizens. In reply to his address, Kossuth then addressed the audience substantially as follows:—

Gentlemen,—More than five months have passed since my landing in New York. The novelty has long since subsided, and emotion has died away. The spell is broken which distance and misfortune cast around my name. The freshness of my very ideas is worn out. Incessant toils spread a languor upon me, unpleasant to look upon. The skill of intrigues, aspersing me with calumny; wilful misrepresentations, pouring cold water upon generous sympathy; Louis Napoleon's momentary success, shaking the faith of cold politicians in the near impendency of a European struggle for liberty; and in addition to all this, the Presidential election, absorbing public attention, and lowering every high aspiration into the narrow scope of party spirit, busy for party triumph; all these circumstances, and many besides too numerous to record, joined to make it probable that the last days of my wanderings on American soil would be entirely different from those in which the hundred thousands of the "Empire City,"[*] thundered up to the high heaven the cheers of their hurrahs, till they sounded like a defiance of a free people to the proud despots of the world. And yet, notwithstanding all these disadvantageous concurrencies, NO change has taken place in the public spirit of America. I may have lost in your kind estimation of my humble self, but my cause has not lost. It is standing higher than ever it stood, and the future in your country's policy is ensured to it.

[Footnote *: New York.]

Gentlemen, present bounty will never weaken in my mind the thankful appreciation of former benefits. The generous manifestation of sympathy I met on my arrival, will always remain recorded with unfading gratitude in my heart; but no just man can feel offended when I say, that it is the manner of the "farewell" which decides upon the value of the "welcome." The result of my endeavours in America will not be measured by how I was received when I came, but by how I am treated when I leave. You know, "All's well that ends well," and to be well, things must end well. And being about to close my task in America, I cannot help to say, that the generous reception you have honoured me with, is doubly gratifying to my countrymen, who have watched with intense interest my progress in America—and doubly dear to my heart, because it is an evidence that the "farewell" given to the wandering exile's, course, confirms the expectations which the "welcome" had roused.

The warm reception Albany has given me is like the point upon the letter "i"—it decides its meaning. The metropolis of the Empire State gave abundantly the first flowers to the garland of America's sympathy for the condition of the Old World. Many a flower was added to it from many a place. Wherever there is a people there was a new garden of sympathy: and wherever be the obligations I owe—and gladly own—to many a quarter of the United States, it is but a tribute due to justice publicly to avow, that Ohio, with the bold resolution of its youthful strength, and Massachusetts, with its consistent traditional energy, stood pre-eminent in the decided comprehension of America's destiny—and now the Capitol of the Empire State winds up the garland of America. New York achieves what New York has begun, and thus, in leaving America, I have an answer to bring to Europe's oppressed millions; and the answer is satisfactory, because I know what position America will take in the approaching crisis of the world.

There are moments in the national life of a people, when to adopt a certain course becomes a natural necessity: and in such moments the people always gets instinctively conscious of the necessity, and answers it by adopting a direction spontaneously. That direction is decisive. It must be followed: and it is followed. Pre-eminent patriots, joining in the people's instinct, may become either the interpreters or the executors of it; but they can neither impart their own direction to the people, nor alter that which public opinion has fixed. There are no other means to become a great man and a great patriot but by becoming the impersonification of the public sentiment, conscious of a surpassing public necessity. Those who would endeavour to measure great things by a small individual scale, would always fall short in their calculations, and be left behind.

There have been already several such moments in your country's brief but glorious history. I will only mention your glorious Revolution of 1775. Who made that Revolution? The People; the unarmed heroes; the Public Opinion. If the question had been left to the decision of some few, though the best and the wisest of all, they never would have advised a struggle; but would have arranged matters diplomatically. You remember what anxious endeavours were made to prove that it was not the Americans who fired the first shot, and how exculpations were sent to England with protestations of allegiance. All those little steps were vain. The people felt that it was time to become an independent nation; and feeling the necessity of the moment, it took a direction by itself, and made the Revolution by itself.

Now-a-days it is of an equally pregnant necessity to the United States, to take the position of a power on earth. Nobody can hereafter make the people believe that it is possible for America to remain unaffected by the condition of the Old World,—to advise that the United States shall still abstain from mixing up their concerns with those of Europe. The question to be decided is not whether America shall mix its concerns with those of the Old World; because that is done. But the question is, whether the United States shall take a seat in the great Amphictyonic Council of the nations or not? And whether it shall be permitted to some crowned mortals to substitute the whims of their ambition in the place of international law;—to set up and to upset the balance of power as they please; and to regulate the common concerns of the world? And shall the United States accept whatever the Czar may be pleased to decide about those common concerns? And shall the United States silently look on, however the Czar may grow upon the ruins of common international law, to an all-overwhelming preponderance?

That is the question. And that being the question, the people has answered it, and has pronounced about it in a manner too positive and too evident to be mistaken. It is already more than a year ago, that a distinguished American diplomatist publicly advertised his fellow-statesmen, "that it is the popular voice which will henceforth decide, without appeal, the great coming questions in your foreign policy, before the Executive or Congress can consider them." Some have reproached me for unprecedented arrogance in trying to change the hereditary policy of the United States. But it is not so. I did but engage public attention to consider the exigencies of time and circumstances. The finger of the clock only shows the hour, but makes not the time. And so did I. And allow me to say, that the coming of such a time was already anticipated by many of your own fellow-citizens, long before my humble name, or even the name of my country, was known in America. Please to read the works of your own distinguished countryman WAYLAND, who for more than thirty years was engaged at one of your high schools in the noble task of instilling sound political principles and enlightened patriotism into the heart and mind of your rising generation. You will find that already in 1825, after having spoken of the effects which this country might produce upon the politics of Europe simply by her example, he thus proceeds:—

"It is not impossible, however, that this country may be called to exert an influence still more direct on the destinies of men. Should the rulers of Europe make war upon the principles of our Constitution, because its existence 'may operate as an example,' or should a universal appeal be made to arms on the question of civil and religious liberty, it is manifest that we must take no secondary part in the controversy. The contest will involve the civilized world, and the blow will be struck which must decide the fate of men for centuries to come. Then will the hour have arrived, when, uniting with herself the friends of Freedom throughout the world, this country must breast herself to the shock of congregated nations. Then will she need the wealth of her merchants, the powers of her warriors, and the sagacity of her statesmen. Then on the altar of our God, let each one devote himself to the cause of the human race, and in the name of the Lord of Hosts go forth unto the battle! If need be, let our choicest blood flow freely, for life itself is valueless when such interests are at stake. Then, when a world in arms is assembling to the conflict, may this country be found fighting in the vanguard for the liberties of man! God himself has summoned her to the contest, and she may not shrink back. For this hour may He by His grace prepare her!"

Thus wrote a learned American Patriot as early as 1825; and he stands high even to-day in the estimation of his fellow-citizens; and no man ever charged him with being presumptuously arrogant for having shown such a perspective of coming necessities to America. His profound sagacity, pondering the logical issue of America's position, has penetrated into the hidden mystery of future events; and he has seen his country summoned, by God himself, to fight in the vanguard for mankind's civil and religious liberty.

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XLVIII.—SOUND AND UNSOUND COMMERCE.

Speech at Buffalo.]

On the 27th of May thirty thousand persons assembled in the Park at
Buffalo, where Kossuth had a magnificently enthusiastic reception. In
the evening he was escorted to American Hall by the mayor and others.
For a portion only of his Speech, in reply to the address of the Hon.
Thomas Love, can we here find room.

The Austrian minister (said he) has left the United States. Proud Austria has no longer a representative here, but down-trodden Hungary has. The Chevalier Hulsemann has at last taken his departure, without even a chivalrous farewell; the Secretary of State let him depart, without either alarm or regret.

"All right!" gentlemen. Two years ago there was much alarm in certain quarters, when the idea of such a rupture was first suggested. Five months ago, when in one of my public addresses I wished a good journey to Mr. Hulsemann, some thought it rather presumptuous. But now that he has left, no man cares about it, scarcely any man takes notice of it. The time may yet come, when Mr. Hulsemann's masters will be fully aware, that what he is pleased to call the Kossuth episode is a serious drama—a drama in which, I trust, America will so act its part, that in the catastrophe justice and freedom shall triumph, violence and oppression shall fall.

In my many speeches I have dwelt largely on the necessity that there is for America to act this part. I have not concealed that I am informed that many gentlemen of commerce are timid concerning it, and I have ventured to warn this young but great republic against materialism. But commerce involves this danger only when it is bent on instant profit at any price, and cares nothing for the future, nothing about that solidity of commercial relations on which permanent prosperity depends. Adventurous money-hunting is not commerce. Commerce, republican commerce, raised single cities to the position of mighty powers on earth, and maintained them there for centuries. It is merchants whose names shine with immortal lustre from the glorious book of Venice and Genoa. Commerce, as I understand it, does indeed apply its finger to the pulsations of present conjunctures, but not the less fixes its eye steadily on the future. Its heart warms with noble patriotism and philanthropy, connecting individual profit with the development of natural resources and of national welfare; so that it spreads over the multitudes like a dew of Heaven upon the earth, which blossoms through it with the flower of prosperity. Such a commercial spirit is a rich source of national happiness;—a guarantee of a country's future, a pillar of its power, a vehicle of civilization and convoyer of its principles.

Let me exemplify the difference between that noble beneficent spirit of commerce and the merely material money hunting, which falsely usurps the name of commerce.

Since the fatal arithmetical skill of Rothschilds has found out how to gain millions by negotiating, out of the pockets of the public, loan after loan for the despots, to oppress the blind-folded nations, a sort of speculation has gained ground in the Old World, worthy of the execration of humanity—I mean the speculation in loan shares;—the paper commerce called stock-jobbing. It is the shame-brand upon our century's brow, that such a commerce is become a political power on earth; and unscrupulous gamesters, speculating upon the ruin of their neighbours, hold the political thermometer of peace and war in their criminal hands. But it is not commerce—it deserves not the name of commerce—it does not contribute to public welfare—it does not augment the elements of public prosperity—it is but immoral GAMBLING, which transfers an unproductive imaginary wealth from one hand into another, without augmenting the stock of national property:—that is not commerce: and it is a degradation of the character of a nation, when the interests of that speculation have the slightest influence, or are made of the slightest consideration in the regulation of a country's policy. Such an example has its full weight with every other kind of mere money-hunting. It would be the greatest fault to regulate a country's policy according to the momentary interests of worshippers of the almighty dollar, who look but for a momentary profit, not caring for their fatherland and humanity—nothing for the principles—nothing about the tears and execration of millions, if only that condition remains intact which gives them individual profit—though that condition be the misfortune of a world. Wherever that class of money-hunters is influential, there is a disease in the constitution of the community. It is vain to complain against the dangerous doctrines of socialism, so long as such money-hunters have any influence upon politics. The genus of Rothschilds has done more for the spread of socialism than its most passionate sectarians.

Take on the other side the contrasting fact of the Erie Canal. I remember well that some were terrified, when in the councils of the Empire State first was started the idea of that gigantic enterprise. And now when we hear that its nett proceeds amount to about three millions of dollars a year—when we see the almost unbroken line of boats on it—when we see Buffalo becoming the heart of the West, the pulsation of which conveys the warm tide of life to the East; and by the communication of that artery, bringing the wonderful combination of the great western lakes into immediate connection with the Atlantic, and through the Atlantic with the Old World—when we see Buffalo, though at four hundred miles distance from the ocean, without a navigable river, living, acting, and operating like a seaport; and New York, situated on the shores of the Atlantic, acting as if it were the metropolis of the West—when we consider how commerce becomes a magic wand, and transforms a world of wilderness into a garden of prosperity, and spreads the blessing of civilization where some years ago only the wild beasts and the Indian roamed—then indeed we bow with reverential awe before the creating power of that commerce. We feel that the spirit of it is not a mere money-hunting, but a mighty instrumentality of Providence for the moral and social benefit of the world; and we at once feel that the interests of such a commerce underlie so much the foundation of your country's future, that not only are they entitled to enter into the regulating considerations of your country's policy, but they must enter—they must have a decisive weight—and they will have it, whatever be the declamations of learned politicians who have so much looked to the authority of past times that they have found no time to see the imperious necessity of present exigencies.

There are still some who advise you to follow the policy of separation from Europe, which Washington wisely advised in his days—wisely, because it was a necessity of those times. I have on many occasions adduced arguments against this, which to me are quite convincing. Yet to some minds custom is of so much more power than argument, that I could not forbear to feel some uneasiness. But to-day, gentlemen, I no longer feel such uneasiness. I am entirely tranquillized. I want no more arguments, because I have the knowledge of facts, and to those who still advocate the policy of separatism I will say, "Have you seen the city of Buffalo? Go! and look at it; when you have seen what Buffalo is, consider what are the interests which created that city, and are personified by that city; then trace those interests back to New York, and from New York across the Atlantic to the Old World; and again, the returning interests of intercourse from the Old World to New York and hence to Buffalo, and from Buffalo to the West, and then speak of the wisdom of separatism!"—What exists, exists. The facts will laugh at your reflections; they will tell you that, they cannot be undone. They will tell you that you are like Endymion, whom Diana made sleep until the twig on which he leaned his head had become a tree. They, will tell you that you could as well reduce Buffalo to the log-house of MIDDEAU and LANE; the mighty democrat the steam-engine to the horse on the back of which EZRA METCALF brought the first public mail to the sixteen dwelling-houses, which some forty years ago composed all Buffalo; you could as well reduce the Erie Canal to where it was when GOVERNOR MORRIS first mentioned the idea of tapping Lake Erie, or reduce the West to a desert, and western New York to the condition in which Washington saw it when journeying towards the Far West.

All this you could as easily do as adhere any longer to the policy of separatism, or persuade the people of the United States not to take any part in the great political transactions of the Old World.

In that respect, gentlemen, I am entirely tranquillized; and tranquillized also I am in this respect, that it is impossible the active sympathies of your people should not side with freedom and right against oppression and violence. That will be done. I want no assurance about it,—being an imperative corollary of existing facts. Public opinion is aroused to the appreciation of these facts and of their necessary exigencies. The only thing which I in that respect have yet to desire, is, to see the people of the United States persuaded that it is time to prepare already to meet those exigencies; and that it is wise not to let themselves be overtaken by impending events.

[Kossuth then proceeded to speak of subjects elsewhere very fully treated, and continued:]

Once more, I repeat, a timely pronouncement of the United States would avert and prevent a second interference of Russia. She must sharpen the fangs of her Bear, and get a host of other beasts into her menagerie, before she will provoke the Eagle of America. But beware, beware of loneliness. If your protest be delayed too long, you will have to fight alone against the world: while now, you will only have to watch, and others will fight.

Allow me to ask, are the United States interested in the laws of nations? can they permit any interpolation in the code of these laws without their consent? I am told by some that America had best not intermeddle with European politics, and that you have always avoided to meddle with them. But it is not so. Those who make this assertion forget history—they forget that the United States have always claimed and asserted the right to have their competent weight and authority about the maritime law of nations—it was one of your Presidents who held this emphatic language to the Potentates of Europe:

"We cannot consent to interpolations in the maritime code of nations at the mere will and pleasure of other Governments—we deny the right of any such interpolation, to any one or all the nations of the earth without our consent—we claim to have a voice in all alterations of that code."

Thus spoke the United States, at a time when they were not yet so powerful as they are now. And they thus spoke not for themselves only, but for all the nations on earth. And to what purpose did they speak these words so full of dignity and full of effect? For the maintenance of the laws of nations, or one part of them, the maritime code. Dauntless and full of resolution, they alone vindicated natural rights for every nation on earth, while Europe sacrificed them. They vindicated for every nation the proud motto they have emblazoned on their banner—"Free Trade and Sailors' Rights," and free ships and free goods:

Now who can any longer charge me that I advance a new policy, with that precedent before your eyes? Would you be willing to resign, now that you are powerful, in respect to other parts of the laws of nations, that which you have boldly taken in respect to one part of them, when you were yet comparatively weak? Or would you do less for the end than you have done for the means?

The maritime part of the international code is no end, but only a means to an end. No ship takes sail for the purpose merely of sailing on the ocean, but for the purpose of arriving somewhere. The ocean is but the highway, and not the intended terminus. Russian intervention in Hungary has blocked up your terminus: and the maritime code would be of no avail, if the other provisions of international law are to be still blotted out from the code of nations by Russian ambition. Let the slightest eruption of the political volcano in Europe take place, and you will see. You might have seen already during our past struggle, that your proud principle of "free ships, free goods" is a mere mockery unless the other parts of the laws of nations are also maintained.

That is what I claim from the young and dauntless nation of America. I claim that she shall not abandon that position in the proud days of her power, which she so boldly took in the days of her feebleness. Or are you already declining? Has your prodigious prosperity weakened instead of strengthening your nation's nerves? So young! and a Republic! and already declining! when its opposing principle, Russia, rises so boldly and so high! Oh, no! God forbid! That would be a sorrowful sight, fraught with the grief of centuries for all humanity!

* * * * *

XLIX.—RUSSIA AND THE BALANCE OF POWER.

[Syracuse.]

At Syracuse, in New York State, Kossuth was received with an address of the usual cordiality by the ex-Mayor, Harvey Baldwin. Of his ample reply a portion may here be presented to the reader. After alluding to Dionysius and Timoleon, he came back to the subject of Russian interference in Hungary, and declared that he would not appeal to their passions, but to their calm reason, although he approved of excitement in a good cause, and at any rate trusted that Truth and Hope would never be out of fashion at Syracuse. He continued:—

Gentlemen, as the destination of laws in a well-regulated community is to uphold right, justice, and security of every individual, rich or poor, powerful or weak, and to protect his life against violence and his property against the encroachments of fraud and crime—so the destination of the laws of nations is to secure the independence even of the smallest States, from the encroachments of the most powerful ones. Force will prevail instead of right, so long as all independent nations do not unite for the maintenance of those laws upon which the security of all nations rests.

I say all nations, because weakness is always comparative, not absolute. A combination of several leagued powers can reduce to the condition of comparative weakness even the strongest power on earth. Without the law of nations there is therefore no security for nations. But the European powers have long ago substituted for the rule of justice the so-called balancing system—that is to say, the political balance of power among nations. That system is iniquitous, for it is founded, not upon the national right even of the smallest nation to be maintained in its independence, but upon the natural jealousy of the great powers. With this system the independence of the smallest States is not sure by right and by law, but only depends on the consideration that the absorption of such smaller States might aggrandize one of the great powers too much. In this system humanity is taken for nothing—the mutual jealousy of the powerful is all, and the implicit guarantee for the security of the weaker ceases, wherever the powerful can devise a plan of spoliation which leaves the relative forces of the spoliators the same as before. It is thus the world has seen the partition of Poland—that most iniquitous—most guilty spoliation ever witnessed.

The balancing system would have protected Poland from absorption by one power, but it has not protected it from partition between these rival powers. Formerly, separate leagues between several States have been as a protecting barrier against the ambition of a single powerful oppressor. In the case of Poland, the world saw with consternation a confederacy of great powers formed to perpetrate those very acts of spoliation which hitherto had been prevented by similar means. I therefore am certainly no advocate of this false system of political balance of power, and I believe the time will come when that idol will be thrown down from the place which it usurps, and law and right will be restored to their sovereign sway. But still I may say, it is an imperious necessity for all the world in general, as also for the United States, that something should be done to prevent the measureless territorial aggrandizement of one single power, chiefly when that power is the mighty antagonist of your own Republic, as indeed Russia is.

I have on many occasions spoken of the necessary antagonism between despotic Russia and republican America. Allow me here to recapitulate some facts concerning Russia.

No man familiar with the history of the last hundred years is ignorant that the Czars of Russia take it for their destiny to rule the world. It is their hereditary policy, in which they are brought up from generation to generation, till that infatuation becomes a point of their character. To come to that aim—Russian preponderance steps forth alike with protocols, with emissaries, and with war—in two directions westward and eastward, against Europe and against Asia.

As to Europe, after having completed her arrondisement on the Baltic—her earnest aim is partly direct conquest, and partly sovereign preponderance. Direct conquest, so far as the Sclave race is spread; which the Czars desire to unite under their despotic sceptre. To attain that end, the house of Romanoff has started the idea of Pansclavism, the idea of union of the Sclavish nationality under Russian protectorate.—Protectorate is always the first step which Russia takes when desiring to conquer.

She has styled that ambitious design the regeneration of the Sclave nationality; and to blindfold those deluded nations that they may not see that without independence and freedom no nationality exists, she has flattered their ambition with the prospect of dominion over the world. The Latin race had its turn, and the German race had, and now it is the Sclave race which is called to rule and master the world. Such was the Satanic temptation of pride, by which Russia advanced in that ambitious scheme. I will not now speak of the mischief she has succeeded to do in that respect: I will only mark the fact that the ambition of Russia aims at the direct dominion of Europe, so far as it is inhabited by the Sclave race. The slightest knowledge of geography is sufficient to make it understood that this would be such an accession to the power of Russia, that, were they united under one man's despotic will, the independence of the rest of Europe, should even Russia prudently decline a direct conquest of it, would be but a mockery. The Czar would be omnipotent over it, as indeed he is near to be already, at least on the Continent.

Yet, without the conquest of Constantinople, Russia could never carry the idea of Pansclavism: for in European Turkey a vast stock of the Sclavonic race dwells, from Bulgaria over Servia and Bosnia down to Montenegro, and across through Rumelia. Moreover, the conquest of Constantinople is the hereditary leading idea of Russian policy. Peter, called the Great, the founder of the Russian Empire, in making it from a half-Asiatic a European State, bequeathed this policy as a sacred legacy to all his posterity, in his political testament, which is the Magna Charta of Russian power and despotism. All his successors have energetically followed that inherited direction. Alexander movingly avowed that Constantinople is the key to his own house, and his brother did and does more than all his predecessors to get that key.

When the Empress Catharine visited the recently conquered Krimea, Potemkin raised to her honour a triumphal arch, with the motto—"Hereby is the road to Constantinople." Czar Nicholas has since learned that it is by Vienna, rather. Russia therefore decided to get rid of this obstacle, and to convert it out of an obstacle into a TOOL. A direct conquest would have been dangerous, because it would have met the opposition of all Europe. Russia therefore tried it first by monetary influence, and had pretty well advanced in it. Metternich himself was a pensioner to Russia. But the watchful, independent spirit of constitutional Hungary still hindered the practical result of that bribery.

And, mark well, gentlemen, in consequence of the geographical situation of her dominions, and being also sovereigns of Hungary, it was chiefly the house of Austria which was considered to be and cherished as the great bulwark against Russia—charged especially with a jealous guardianship of Turkish rights. And indeed had the house of Austria comprehended the conditions of her existence, attached Hungary to herself by respecting her independence and her constitutional rights, and developed the power of her hereditary dominions, and placed herself upon a constitutional basis, she could have maintained her respectable position of guardianship for centuries. Russia was aware of that fact.

It is the intrigue of Russia, which by money and emissaries for years before infused the notion of Pansclavism among the Bohemians, Poles, Croats, Serbs, under the crown of Austria, equally as among the Sclave population of Turkey; which encouraged Austria to attack Hungary, by promising her aid in case of need. If Austria succeeded, the constitutional life of Hungary, in many ways so offensive to Russia, was overthrown: if Austria failed, she became a dependency of Russia. And by the unwarrantable carelessness of some powers, the complicity of others, the latter alternative is achieved. Austria, who was to have balanced Russia, is thrown into her scale: instead of being a barrier, she is her vanguard, and her tool—her high road to Constantinople, her auxiliary army to flank it.

It would be not without interest to sketch the history of Russia step by step, advancing towards that aim by war and by emissaries, and by diplomatic corruption and corrupted diplomacy, from the time of Mahomet Baltadji, of cursed memory, through all subsequent wars—at the treaties of Kutsuk Kaynardje, Balta Liman, Jassy, Bucharest, Ackierman, Adrianople, Unkhiar Iskelessi, down to the treaty as to the Dardanelles and the Bosphorus, and to the treaty of commerce which made two-thirds of Constantinople itself in their daily bread dependent upon Russian wheat, to the amount of thirty-five millions of piastres a year, while Turkish wheat was rotting in the stores of Asia Minor. By each of these treaties Russia advanced its frontiers, and pressed Constantinople more closely within its iron grasp; with such perseverant consistency pursuing her aim, that even in other political transactions, apparently unconnected with Turkey, it was constantly this which she kept in view.

As for instance, at the conference of Tilsit, when she surrendered continental Europe to the momentary domains of Napoleon, provided Turkey were consigned to her. And still she did not succeed—and still Stamboul stands a barrier to her dominion over the world. And why did she not succeed? Because the European powers, conscious of the fact that the conquest of Constantinople involves their own submission to Russia, have in the last instant always prevented it, by uniting to treat the Eastern question as one of life and death for their own independence.

The whole Anglo-Saxon race are bound by every consideration of policy to check the ambitious encroachments of Russia. It is not in Europe only, but in Asia, that you meet her. She knows that her dominion over the world must be short, while the Anglo-Saxon race bold a mighty empire in India. Moreover, you yourselves, by the extension of your territory to the Pacific Ocean, are drawn by a thousand natural ties of activity to Asia. Your expedition to Japan has a world of meaning in it. Great powers must have broad views in their policy: you cannot contain your activity, nor therefore your policy, within a domestic circle of your own. You are for the world what Germany is for Europe. As without the freedom of Hungary, Europe cannot become free, so without the freedom of Germany, Europe cannot remain free; for Germany is the heart of Europe. You, by having extended your dominion to the Pacific, become the heart of the world. You are brought into the compass of Russian hatred and Russian ambition. Either you or Russia must fall.

The balance of power, and thereby the independence of the world, has been overthrown by the connivance of the great powers at the overthrow of Hungary; and it can only be restored by the restoration of Hungary. As for Austria, she never more can be restored—she is not only doomed, she is dead. No skill, no tending can revive her. Having previously broken every tie of affection and of allegiance, she cannot maintain even a vegetable life, but by Russian aid. Let the reliance upon that aid relax, and there is no power on earth which could prevent the nations who groan under her oppressive and degrading tyranny from shattering to pieces the rotten building of her criminal existence. And as to my nation, I declare solemnly, that should we be left forsaken and alone to fight once more the battle of deliverance for the world, and should we in consequence of it fail in that honourable strife, we will rather choose to be Russians than subject to the house of Austria—rather submit to open, manly force of the Czar, than to the heart-revolting perjury of the Hapsburg—rather be ruled directly by the master, than submit to the shame of being ruled by his underlings. The fetters of force may be broken once, but the affection of a morally offended people to a perjurious dynasty can never be restored. Russia we hate with inconceivable hatred, but the House of Hapsburg we hate and we despise.

I have been often asked, what may be, amidst the present conjunctures, an opportunity to renew our struggle for liberty? and I have answered that the very oppression of our country, the heroism of my people, our resolute will, and the intolerable condition of the European Continent, is an opportunity in itself; but if too cautious men, having too little faith in the destiny of mankind, desire yet another opportunity, there is the prospect of a war between Turkey and Russia. This is a fatality, pointed out by the situation of Russia, and by the pressing motives, heaped up since the time of Peter the Great: and Russia will hasten to try the decisive blow, since she knows that Turkey becomes more powerful every day. Now, gentlemen, that will be an imperious opportunity to raise once more the standard of freedom in Hungary; and, so may God bless us, we are prepared for it. We cannot allow that our natural ally, Turkey, be flanked from the frontiers of Hungary at the order of the Czar. Turkey, by curious change of circumstances, having become necessary to European freedom and civilization, will find the kindred race of the Magyars to aid her, and by aiding her, to save the world.

The only question is, will the United States remain indifferent at the overthrow of the balance of power on earth? No, they will not, they cannot remain indifferent. Their position on the coast of the Pacific answers "No." Their Republican principle answers "No." The voice of the people, clustering in thundering manifestations around my own humble self, answer "No." You yourself, Sir, in the name of the people of Syracuse, which is but one tone in the mighty harmony of all the people's voice, have told me "No."

Before these assurances, and upon the conditions of your destiny, I rely; and I venture humbly to advise you to strengthen your fleet in the Mediterranean. Sir, look for a port of your own, not depending upon the smiles of petty Italian despots, but one where the stripes and stars of America will be able to protect the principles of FREE SHIPS, FREE GOODS. Determine the character of your country's future administration from a broad American view, and not from any petty considerations of small party follies. With these humble suggestions I cordially thank you for your sympathy, and bid you an affectionate farewell!

* * * * *

L.—RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT.

[Utica.]

At Utica, in New York State, the elegant Saloon of the Museum was arranged for Kossuth's reception: and the Hon. W. Bacon made a powerful address to him. Kossuth in the course of his reply, said:—

Ladies and gentlemen,—The history and the institutions of the United States were not only the favourite study of my life, from my early youth, strengthening my conviction that with centralization and with parliamentary omnipotence, which absorb all independence of municipal life, there is no practical freedom possible:—but the history and institutions of the United States exerted also a real influence upon the resolution of my people to resist oppression, and not to shrink before the dangers and sacrifices of a terrible conflict.

Never yet was there a people against which all the arts of hell had been combined worse than against the people of Hungary in 1848. Neither dreaming to attack any, nor suspecting to be attacked, never yet was a people less prepared for a war of defence, or more surprised by the danger than my country was.

In those frightful days, when many of the stoutest hearts prepared mourningly to submit to the imperious necessity, I called Hungary to arms; and while on the one side I pronounced a curse against those who would forsake the fatherland, and were willing to bow cowardlike before a sacrilegious violence, and accept the degradation of servitude,—on the other side, in order to cheer up the manly resolution of my countrymen, I pointed to the heart-raising example of your history. And that history became the guiding star to us, from the lustre of which we have drawn self-reliance and resolution to bear up against all danger and all adversities.

But while we on our part readily yielded to the heart-ennobling influence of your history, we were disappointed in some expectations which we derived from it. We saw that you were not forsaken in the hour of need; yet your grievances were by far less heart-stirring than ours, and should you have failed in the noble enterprize of independence, such a failure, at that time, would by no means have teemed with such immediate results of positive mischiefs to the world outside of you, as every considerate mind might have foreseen from our fall.

I therefore confess that I trusted to that instruction also of your history, and hoped that should we prove worthy of the attention of the world, that attention would not be restricted to a mere looking at our contest with barren sympathies. But allow me to mention that it was not from America alone that I hoped our struggle would not be regarded with indifference: the example of former political transactions in Europe entitled me to just expectations from other quarters also in that respect.

When Greece heroically rose to assert its independence, Great Britain, France, and even Russia herself, interposed together to pacify the two contending parties, on the basis of the establishment of an independent Greece. And so very anxious were those great powers to stop the effusion of blood, that they solemnly declared they would insist upon the pacification, should even the conflicting parties decline to consent to the proposed arrangements. And thus Greece took its seat among the independent States, though that was possible only by reducing the territory of the Ottoman Empire, the integrity of which was considered essential to the equilibrium of political power on earth.

Besides, what were those powers which interposed their mediation in favour of bleeding Greece? It was Russia, despotical as she is: it was legitimist France, then scarcely to be called constitutional; for it was before the revolution of 1830: and it was the ministry of Great Britain, then, if I am not mistaken, a Tory one.

Now was I not entitled with this precedent before my eyes, to hope that the bloody struggle in Hungary would not be regarded with indifference? We had not risen from any reckless excitement to assert new rights, or to experiment on new theories; we should have been contented to keep what we lawfully possessed. It was not we who broke the peace; we were assailed with a perjury more sacrilegious than the world has ever seen:—we merely took up arms to defend ourselves against national extermination, against the nameless cruelties inflicted upon our people,—men, women, children,—by fire, murder, war, and royal perjury. And besides, when we took up arms in legitimate defence, it so happened that in France there was a republic established which proclaimed the principle of universal fraternity; and there was in England a ministry claiming to be liberal, which on a former occasion had solemnly vouched its word to the British parliament, that constitutional independence of any country, great or small, would never be a matter of indifference to the English government; adding emphatically, that whoever might be in office, conducting the affairs of Great Britain, he would not perform his duty if he were inattentive to the interests of such States. Am I to blame for having thought that there is and should be morality in politics?

And besides, there was republican America, quite in another shape than she was twenty years before, at the time of the war of independence in Greece. Then she had not yet extended her sway to the Pacific, and was not yet exposed to be so much affected by the political issues of Europe and Asia as she now is: then she had not yet a population of more than twenty millions, who now are in the necessity to claim the position of a power on earth: then she was indeed a new world teeming with the mysteries of the future, but yet was far from being what she is to-day; nay, even the Erie Canal, the great artery which now acts as a miraculous link between Europe and the interior of your republic, was only about to be completed at the time. And still what mighty sympathy! a sympathy warm in expression, and not barren in facts, thrilled through all America, much like that which I now meet, and pervaded even your national councils:—would I were entitled to say, much like as now! Although the question of Greece was of course worthy of all interest (as the cause of liberty always and everywhere is), yet it was only an isolated cause, and by no means of such surpassing influence upon the condition of the world as the cause of Hungary was, and is.

And yet I was disappointed in the expectation which I derived from your own history, that a just cause will find supporters and never will be forsaken by all. Oh, we were forsaken, gentlemen! We were forsaken even at the crisis, when, single-handed, we had defeated our cruel enemy. And Russia, that personification of despotism, stepped in with its iron weight, tearing to pieces the law of nations, and overthrowing upon our ruins the balance of power on earth.

That Russia, if invited, would snatch at the opportunity to gain preponderance amongst the powers on earth—of this I entertained not the slightest doubt; but I must confess, I did not believe either that Austria would claim, or that the other powers of the earth, and chiefly Great Britain and America, would permit the intervention of Russia. I could not believe that Austria would resort to this desperate remedy, because (and it is a remarkable circumstance which I mention now for the first time) it was Austria which but a few years before, when, in the transactions with Turkey, the question of foreign interference for the maintenance of the integrity of the Turkish empire was agitated in the councils of the world (and from which you of course were excluded, as to the present day you always yet have been, as if you were nothing but a patch of earth); yes, it was Austria, which objecting that the guarantee of interference should be even claimed, pronounced in a solemn diplomatic note these memorable words:—

"A State ought never to accept, and still less request, of another State, a service for which it is unable to offer in return a strict reciprocity; else by accepting such favour she loses the flower of her own independence—a State accepting such a favour becomes a mediatized State: it makes an act of submission to the will of the State which takes the charge of its defence; this State becomes a protector, and to be dependent upon a protector is insupportable."

Thus spoke Austria. How then could I imagine that the same Austria which thus spoke would accept the degradation of Russian interference? And should even the house of Austria, ruled by a guilty woman, under the name of a witless, cruel child, be willing thus to ruin itself; how could I imagine that England, that America, that the World, would allow such a preponderance to Russia as makes her almost the mistress over the world; at least opens the way to become such? No, that indeed I could not imagine.

And still it was done. We fell, not "unwept, unhonoured, and unsung," but still we fell. Well: sad though be our fate, it is but a trial, and no death. Perhaps it was necessary that the destinies of mankind should be fulfilled. I have an unbroken faith in Him, the Heavenly Father of all; the heart of mortal men may break, but what he does, that is well done.

The ways of Providence are mysterious. The car of destiny goes on unrestrained, and the weight of its wheels often crushes the happiness of generations; floods of tears and of blood often mark its track. Mankind looks up to heaven, and while measuring eternity with the rule of the passing moment, sometimes despairs of the future, and believes the sun of Freedom sunk for ever! It is a delusion: it is the folly of anxiety! Night is the darkest before dawn, and the misfortune of the moment often leads to the happiness of eternity.

Yes, gentlemen! the ways of Providence are miraculous. Let me cast a look backwards into the last struggles for freedom in Europe, that their history may become the book of future, and that, when we perceive the salutary action of Providence even in our misfortunes, we may be strengthened in our faith in the future freedom, and that you may see that for us, down-trodden but not broken, there is full reason to pursue our way, not only with the resoluteness of duty, but also with the cheerfulness of a sure success, courageous as strength, untired as perseverance, unshaken as religious faith, self-sacrificing as maternal love, cautious as wisdom, but resolute as desperation itself.

But where is the action of Providence visible in the failure of 1848? is your question. Gentlemen, I will tell you. The continent of Europe was afflicted with three diseases in 1848—monarchical inclination, centralization, and the antagonism of nationalities. With such elements and in such direction, deception was unavoidable, lasting liberty was not to be achieved.

It was the lot of the peoples to be freed from these diseases, because God had designed the peoples to freedom and not to deception; therefore the revolution of 1848 had to fail, but it was still not a mere accident in history; it was a necessary step in the development of mankind's destiny, and it will shine for ever in history as a glorious preparation for the ultimate triumph of liberty, to carry which a positive, practical direction is necessary. And that now exists.

France, Germany, and Italy are no more to fight for the deception of monarchical principles, not for the triumph of dynasties, but for republics. Hungary took this direction already in 1849, by dethroning the Hapsburgs. France, Germany, and Italy will not follow in the track of centralization. Hungary never followed it. And the governments may ally themselves for the oppression of the world's liberty;—they have already allied themselves—but nations will no more rise in arms against one another. They will rise, not to dominate, but to be independent and free. Instead of the antagonism of nationalities, it is now the idea of the solidarity and fraternity of nations, which is become the character of our times. And this is to be the source of our success in future; this explains the fear of the tyrants which manifests itself in such blind rage. This is the direction which I pursue; this is the secret of the sympathy of the people, unparalleled yet in history, which I met in both hemispheres, and of the coalition of despots, aristocrats, and ambitious intriguers, to persecute me.

I hope, gentlemen, with these considerations before your eyes, you will not share in the opinions of those who despair of the cause of freedom in Europe, because the revolution of 1848 has failed.

* * * * *

LI.—THE TRIPLE BOND.

[Address before the German Citizens of New York.]

At the Broadway Tabernacle, on Wednesday evening, Kossuth delivered a farewell address, before the German citizens of New York. It was spoken in the German language, and was received with the hearty plaudits of an immense assemblage. A small portion only of it can here find place.

Dear friends,—Allow me to address you with this sweet name of brotherly love, hallowed by deep feeling, by the power of principles, and by the combination of circumstances,—but likewise weighty in regard to the determination linked to it in my grateful heart, in life as in death, to serve the cause faithfully which you honour by such generously noble sympathy.

To me this moment is one of solemn importance. I stand at the close of my wanderings in America. My words are those of farewell.

In these six months I have been enriched by many an experience. I had much to unlearn, but I have likewise learnt much.

Whatever be the result of my exertions, so much is sure, that they have linked more closely the hearts of the Germans and Hungarians, and have matured the instinct of solidarity into self-conscious conviction. This result alone is worth a warm utterance of thanks; it will heavily weigh in the future of the world.

And this result, dear friends, is it not achieved? The hearts of the German and the Hungarian are linked more closely; they throb like the hearts of twins which have rested under the same mother's breast; they throb like the hearts of brothers, who, hand in hand, attain the baptism of blood; they throb like the hearts of two comrades, on the eve of the battle, decided to hold together like the blade and the handle.

The echo of this harmony of German song fills yet the air of this hall; it thrills yet through the soul of the ladies and through the bosom of the resolute men. Let the word harmony between the Germans and Hungarians be the consecration of the present moment, which melts together our feelings, in order that, self-conscious of the sublime aim, which unites our nations and us all in brotherhood, we may unite in intention, unite in resolution, unite in endurance, unite in activity for the aim which fills your souls and mine.

And what is this aim which thrills through our bosoms like a magnetic current? The aim is the solidarity and independence of nations;—the freedom of our people—their liberation from the yoke of tyranny.

With this aim before my eyes and decided resolution in my heart, I feel here amidst you as Werner Stauffacher felt, when, in the hour of the night, on the Rüttli, God above him and the sword in his hand, he made the covenant with his two friends against tyrannical Austria.

Let this meeting here become the symbol of a similar covenant; three[*] were the men who made it, and Switzerland became free. Let us three nations make a similar covenant, and the world becomes free. Germany, Hungary, and Italy! hurrah for the new Rüttli-covenant! God increase the number of them, as he increased the number of those on the Rüttli, and our triune band, strong in itself, will readily greet every one, and meet him as a brother, having the same rights in the great council of the Amphictyons, where the nations will give their verdict against tyrants and tyranny, on the battle-field, with the thunder of the cannons and the clashing of swords; and will put the independence of every nation under the common guarantee of all, in order that every one of them may regulate her own domestic affairs, without foreign interference, and every people may govern itself, not acknowledging any master but the Almighty. They, will increase the members of this covenant, but Germany, Hungary, and Italy, they are neighbours, and have the same enemy. Hurrah! for the new covenant of Stauffacher!

[Footnote *: Werner Stauffacher, Walter Fürst, and Arnold of the Melchthal;
November 11th, 1307.]

Now, by the God who led my people from the prairies of far Asia to the banks of the Danube—of the Danube, whose waves have brought religion, science, and civilization from Germany to us, and in whose waves the tears of Germany and Hungary are mingled; by the God who led us, when on the soil watered by our blood we were the bulwark of Christendom; by the God who gave strength to our arm in the struggle for freedom, until our oppressor, this godless House, which weighed so heavily on the liberties of Germany for centuries, was humbled, and sunk down to be the underling of the Muscovite Czar; by the ties of common oppression which tortures our nation—by the ties of the same love of liberty, and of the same hatred of tyranny which boils in the veins of our people—by the remembrance of the day[*] when the Germans of Vienna rose to bar the way toward Hungary against the hirelings of despotism—and by the blood which flowed on the plain of Schwechat[**] from Hungarian hearts for the deliverance of Vienna; by the Almighty Eye which watches the fate of mankind—by all these, I pledge myself, I pledge that the people of Hungary will keep this covenant honestly, faithfully, and truly, in life and death.

[Footnote *: October 5th, 1848]
[Footnote **: October 30th, 1848]

I tender the brother-hand of Hungary to the German people, because I am convinced that it is essentially necessary for the freedom and independence of my country. Destined as we are to be the vanguard of freedom, I know well that as long as Germany remains enslaved, even the victory of our liberty would remain insecure; as long as Germany remains an army, whose power is wielded by the criminal hand of the house of Hapsburg; as long as Russia has nothing to fear from Germany, because the two masters of Germany are but underlings of Russia—obeying the command of their master, because he maintains them on their tottering thrones against their own people; so long Russia will always have the arrogance to throw her despotic sword into the scale against the freedom of the world.

I am not the first who say it, that the freedom of Germany is the condition of the liberty of the world; history tells it with a thousand tongues, every statesman acknowledges it, and all the despots know it.

Twenty years past, when the German Princes recovered from the stunning blow of the July Revolution, by finding out that LOUIS PHILIPPE was not in earnest with his phrases of liberty, when, in the year 1832, they united to enslave the German people, and to retract the concessions which they had given in the fright of their hearts; when they curtailed all the Constitutional guarantees, then HENRY LYTTON BULWER, the same who was Ambassador in Washington during the last year, rose in the English Parliament, and claimed that England should not permit the liberty and independence of the German people to be crushed. He claimed the attention of the world to the great truths that the peace of Europe cannot be secured without a strong Germany, and that Germany cannot be strong without freedom. A free Germany is a bulwark against the encroachments of France and the arrogance of Russia. Germany enslaved, is either the prey of the former or the tool of the other. His prophecy is fulfilled; Germany is become half the prey and wholly the tool of Russia. Who then can calculate on security and peace and freedom, as long as Germany is thus enslaved.

You see, dear friends, that the brotherly union with Germany must be of sacred importance to me, and that my heart must beat as fervently for Germany's freedom, as for that of my own people. Therefore, I necessarily wished to bequeath the care of the seed which I have sown, to men urged to this task of love, not only by enlightened American patriotism—not only by the conscience of right and duty and prudence, but likewise especially by love for their old German fatherland. And do I not express only the sentiments of your own hearts, when I say, "The German may wander from his father's house, and may build for himself a new home in a distant country, yet he ever loves truly and faithfully his own old German fatherland"?

I request you to exert your influence, that the idea of the solidarity of the struggle for European liberty may be well understood, and that preparations be made to support the revolution, whenever it breaks out. There is nothing more dangerous than to say: "The Hungarian, the Italian, or the German fights; let us see whether he succeeds; if he succeeds, we too will try the same." By the isolation of the nations the combined despots become victorious. Let everybody support Liberty, wherever she struggles. But, on the other side, the forces of the revolution cannot so pledge and tie themselves, as to be thrown into the abyss by every ill-combined premature outbreak. Not an "EMEUTE," but a REVOLUTION is our aim; and therefore the leaders of the movement of the different nations must combine either in a simultaneous outbreak, or to mutual support; and in this combination there must be absolute freedom and equality.

There are persons in this country who did me the honour to mention that I would lead the German movement. No! gentlemen; that would be a presumptuous arrogance, even if it were practical, which it is not. This idea itself is the most antagonistical to my principles. No!—No! No foreign interference with the domestic affairs of a nation. I will not bear it in Hungary, nor obtrude it abroad. Full independence is my watchword.

But you will ask who are, or who were, the leaders of Germany, with whom I still combine? The question is easily answered; you will acknowledge them from their works. Whoever comes to tender me his hand as a confederate, I do not ask who he is, where he comes from?—but I ask, "What do you weigh? what power do you command? what forces have you organized? or what are your prospects or means of organization?" and then I inquire into the truth myself. I judge the vitality of the intention, and accept or decline the proffered brotherly alliance of mutual support.

This is my way. I do not think that Germany will ever combine under the leadership of one man; but there are many Germans in the different parts of Germany who enjoy the confidence of their countrymen, and have a leading influence. Every one of these can act in his sphere. I, my friends, will be always ready to combine with every one who does, and who has some forces to tender to the league. I do not care for names, for petty party disputes, or for those which belong to the domestic questions.

[Kossuth proceeded, in assent to a special request, to give his advice as to the method of proceeding suitable to the German voters in America; and closed by saying:]

Those are the principles, my dear friends, which should lead you, according to my humble opinion, in the present crisis. And if you take into kind consideration my bequest, and exert your influence and active aid on behalf of the movement for freedom in Europe, I can but assure you, for my grateful farewell, that there are hundreds of thousands in Europe who take those words for their device, which the other day, the German singers sang, as if from the depth of my heart.

"And never shall rest the shield and the spear,
Till destroyed we see, and laid in the dust,
The enemies all."

May God help me! This is my oath, and this oath my farewell!

* * * * *

LII.—THE FUTURE OF NATIONS.

[A Lecture in New York.]

The following Lecture was delivered at the Broadway Tabernacle by request of a large number of ladies and gentlemen of New York, for the purpose of obtaining the means necessary to secure to the exiled family of Kossuth, consisting of his aged mother, his sisters and their children, an establishment by which they might earn an independent livelihood.

The New York 'Evening Post' says of the Lecture:—

"Kossuth appears nowhere greater than in this able discourse. His comprehensive politics, his beautiful sympathies, his power over language, his poetic imagination, his magnetic and melting earnestness of purpose, are blended with that depth of religious feeling which gives to his character as a patriot the sanctity and unction of the prophet. His moral and intellectual faculties are shown in harmony, working out the great and beneficent purposes of his commanding will.

"It would be difficult to select any portion of this speech as better than another, and we therefore commend the whole to the reader's careful examination."

Ladies and gentlemen,—During six months I appeared many times before the tribunal of public opinion in America. This evening I appear before you in the capacity of a working man. My aged mother, tried by more sufferings than any living being on earth, and my three sisters, one of them a widow with two fatherless orphans, together a homeless family of fourteen unfortunate souls, have been driven by the Austrian tyrant from their home, that Golgotha of murdered right, that land of the oppressed, but also of undesponding braves, and the land of approaching revenge. When Russian violence, aided by domestic treason, succeeded to accomplish what Austrian perjury could not achieve, and I with bleeding heart went into exile, my mother and all my sisters were imprisoned by Austria; but it having been my constant maxim not to allow to whatever member of my family any influence in public affairs, except that I intrusted to the charitable superintending of my youngest sister the hospitals of the wounded heroes, as also to my wife the cares of providing for the furniture of these hospitals, not even the foulest intrigues could contrive any pretext for the continuation of their imprisonment. And thus when diplomacy succeeded to fetter my patriotic activity by the internation to far Asia, after some months of unjust imprisonment, my mother and sisters and their family have been released; and though surrounded by a thousand spies, tortured by continual interference with their private life, and harassed by insulting police measures, they had at least the consolation to breathe the native air, to see their tears falling upon native soil, and to rejoice at the majestic spirit of our people, which no adversities could bend and no tyranny could break.

But at last by the humanity of the Sultan, backed by American generosity, seconded by England, I once more was restored to personal freedom, and by freedom to activity. Having succeeded to escape the different snares and traps which I unexpectedly met, I considered it my duty publicly to declare that the war between Austrian tyranny and the freedom of Hungary is not ended yet, and swore eternal resistance to the oppressors of my country, and declared that, faithful to the oath sworn solemnly to my people, I will devote my life to the liberation of my fatherland. Scarcely reached the tidings of this my after resolution the bloody Court of Vienna, than two of my sisters were again imprisoned; my poor old mother escaping the same cruelty only on account that bristling bayonets of the bloodhounds of despotism, breaking in the dead of night upon the tranquil house, and the persecution of my sisters, hurried away out of Hungary to the prisons of Vienna, threw her in a half-dying condition upon a sick bed. Again no charge could be brought against the poor prisoners, because, knowing them in the tiger's den, and surrounded by spies, I not only did not communicate any thing to them about my foreign preparations and my dispositions at home, but have expressly forbidden them to mix in any way with the doings of patriotism.

But tyrants are suspicious. You know the tale about Marcius. He dreamt that he cut the throat of Dionysius the tyrant, and Dionysius condemned him to death, saying that he would not have dreamt such things in the night if he had not thought of it by day. Thus the Austrian tyrant imprisoned my sisters, because he suspected that, being my sisters, they must be initiated in my plans. At last, after five months of imprisonment, they were released, but upon the condition that they, as well as my mother and all my family, shall leave our native land. Thus they became exiles, homeless, helpless, poor. I advised them to come to your free country—the asylum of the oppressed, where labour is honoured, and where they must try to live by their honest work.

They followed my advice, and are on their way; but my poor aged mother and my youngest sister, the widow with the two orphans, being stopped by dangerous sickness at Brussels, another sister stopped with them to nurse them. The rest of the family is already on the way—in a sailing ship of course, I believe, and not in a steamer. We are poor. My mother and sisters will follow so soon as their health permits.

I felt the duty to help them in their first establishment here. For this
I had to work, having no means of my own.

Some generous friends advised me to try a lecture for this purpose, and I did it. I will not act the part of crying complainants about our misfortunes; we will bear them. Let me at once go to my task.

* * * * *

There is a stirring vitality of busy life about this your city of New York, striking with astonishment the stranger's mind. How great is the progress of Humanity! Its steps are counted by centuries, and yet while countless millions stand almost at the same point where they stood, and some even have declined since America first emerged out of an unexplored darkness which had covered her for thousands of years, like the gem in the sea; while it is but yesterday a few pilgrims landed on the wild coast of Plymouth, flying from causeless oppression, seeking but for a place of refuge and of rest, and for a free spot in the wilderness to adore the Almighty in their own way; still, in such a brief time, shorter than the recorded genealogy of the noble horse of the wandering Arab; yes, almost within the turn of the hand, out of the unknown wilderness a mighty empire arose, broad as an ocean, solid as a mountain-rock, and upon the scarcely rotted roots of the primitive forest, proud cities stand, teeming with boundless life, growing like the prairie's grass in spring, advancing like the steam-engine, baffling time and distance like the telegraph, and spreading the pulsation of their life-tide to the remotest parts of the world; and in those cities and on that broad land a nation, free as the mountain air, independent as the soaring eagle, active as nature, and powerful as the giant strength of millions of freemen.

How wonderful! What a present—and what a future yet!

Future?—then let me stop at this mysterious word—the veil of unrevealed eternity!

The shadow of that dark word passed across my mind, and amid the bustle of this gigantic bee-hive, there I stood with meditation alone.

And the spirit of the immovable Past rose before my eyes, unfolding the misty picture-rolls of vanished greatness, and of the fragility of human things.

And among their dissolving views, there I saw the scorched soil of Africa, and upon that soil Thebes with its hundred gates, more splendid than the most splendid of all the existing cities of the world; Thebes, the pride of old Egypt, the first metropolis of arts and sciences, and the mysterious cradle of so many doctrines which still rule mankind in different shapes, though it has long forgotten their source. There I saw Syria with its hundred cities, every city a nation, and every nation with an empire's might. Baalbec, with its gigantic temples, the very ruins of which baffle the imagination of man, as they stand like mountains of carved rocks in the desert where for hundreds of miles not a stone is to be found, and no river flows, offering its tolerant back to carry a mountain's weight upon, and yet there they stand, those gigantic ruins; and as we glance at them with astonishment, though we have mastered the mysterious elements of nature, and know the combination of levers, and how to catch the lightning, and to command the power of steam and of compressed air, and how to write with the burning fluid out of which the thunderbolt is forged, and how to drive the current of streams up the mountain's top, and how to make the air shine in the night like the light of the sun, and how to dive to the bottom of the deep ocean, and how to rise up to the sky—though we know all this, and many things else, still, looking at the temples of Baalbec, we cannot forbear to ask what people of giants was that, which could do what neither the efforts of our skill nor the ravaging hand of unrelenting time can undo, through thousands of years. And then I saw the dissolving picture of Nineveh, with its ramparts now covered with mountains of sand, where Layard is digging up colossal winged bulls, huge as a mountain, and yet carved with the nicety of a cameo; and then Babylon, with its wonderful walls; and Jerusalem, with its unequalled temple; Tyrus, with its countless fleets; Arad, with its wharves; and Sidon, with its labyrinth of work-shops and factories; and Ascalon, and Gaza, and Beyrout, and farther off Persepolis, with its world of palaces.

All these passed before my eyes as they have been, and again they passed as they now are, with no trace of their ancient greatness, but here and there a ruin, and everywhere the desolation of tombs. With all their splendour, power, and might, they vanished like a bubble, or like the dream of a child, leaving but for a moment a drop of cold sweat upon the sleeper's brow, or a quivering smile upon his lips; then, this wiped away, dream, sweat, smile—all is nothingness.

So the powerful cities of the ancient greatness of a giant age; their very memory but a sad monument of the fragility of human things.

And yet, proud of the passing hour's bliss, men speak of the future, and believe themselves insured against its vicissitudes!

And the spirit of history rolled on the misty shapes of the past before the eyes of my soul. After those cities of old came the nations of old. The Assyrians, the Chaldeans, the war-like Philistines, the commercial republics of Phoenicia and the Persians, ruling from the Indus to the Mediterranean, and Egypt becoming the centre of the universe, after having been thousands of years ago the cradle of its civilization.

Where is the power, the splendour, and the glory of all those mighty nations? All has vanished without other trace than such as the foot of the wanderer leaves upon the dust.

And still men speak of the future with proud security!

And yet they know that Carthage is no more, though it ruled Spain, and ruled Africa beyond the pillars of Hercules down to Cerne, an immense territory, blessed with all the blessings of nature, which Hannon filled with flourishing cities, of which now no trace remains.

And men speak of the future, though they know that such things as heroic Greece once did exist, glorious in its very ruins, and a source of everlasting inspiration in its immortal memory.

Men speak of the future, and still they can rehearse the powerful colonies issued from Greece, and the empires their heroic sons have founded. And they can mark out with a finger on the map, the unparalleled conquests of Alexander; how he crossed victoriously that desert whence Semiramis, out of a countless host, brought home but twenty men; and Cyrus, out of a still larger number, only seven men. But he (Alexander) went on in triumph, and conquered India up to the Hydaspes as he conquered before Tyrus and Egypt, and secured with prudence what he had conquered with indomitable energy.

And men speak of the future, though they know that such a thing did exist as Rome, the Mistress of the World—Rome rising from atomic smallness to immortal greatness, and to a grandeur absorbing the world—Rome, now having all her citizens without, and now again having all the world within her walls; and passing through all the vicissitudes of gigantic rise, wavering decline, and mournful fall. And men speak of the future still with these awful monuments of fragility before their eyes!

But it is the sad fate of Humanity that, encompassing its hopes, fears, contentment, and wishes, within the narrow scope of momentary satisfaction, the great lesson of history is taught almost in vain. Whatever be its warnings, we rely on our good fortune; and we are ingenious in finding out some soothing pretext to lull down the dreadful admonitions of history. Man, in his private capacity, consoles the instinctive apprehension of his heart with the idea that his condition is different from what warningly strikes his mind. The patriot feels well, that not only the present, but also the future of his beloved country, has a claim to his cares; but he lulls himself into carelessness by the ingenious consolation that the condition of his country is different—that it is not obnoxious to those faults which made other countries decline and fall; that the time is different; the character and spirit of the nation are different, its power not so precarious, and its prosperity more solid; and that, therefore, it will not share the same fate of those which vanished like a dream. And the philanthropist, also, whose heart throbs for the lasting welfare of all humanity, cheers his mind with the idea that, after all, mankind at large is happier than it was of yore, and that this happiness ensures the future against the reverses of olden times.

That fallacy, natural as it may be, is a curse which weighs heavily on us. Let us see in what respect our age is different from those olden times. Is mankind more virtuous than it has been of yore? Why, in this enlightened age, are we not looking for virtuous inspirations to the god-like characters of these olden times? If we take virtue to be love of the laws, and of the Fatherland, dare we say that our age is more virtuous? If that man is to be called virtuous, who, in all his acts, is but animated by a regard to the common good, and who, in every case, feels ready to subordinate his own selfish interest to public exigencies—if that be virtue (as indeed it is), I may well appeal to the conscience of mankind to give an impartial verdict upon the question, if our age be more virtuous than the age of Codrus or of Regulus, of Decius and of Scaevola. Look to the school of Zeno, the stoics of immortal memory; and when you see them contemning alike the vanity of riches and the ambition of personal glory, impenetrable to the considerations of pleasure and of pain, occupied only to promote public welfare and to fulfil their duties toward the community; when you see them inspired in all their acts by the doctrine that, born in a society, it is their duty to live for the benefit of society; and when you see them placing their own happiness only upon the happiness of their fellow-men—then say if our too selfish, too material age can stand a comparison with that olden period. When you remember the politicians of ancient Greece, acknowledging no other basis for the security of the commonwealth than virtue, and see the political system of our days turning only upon manufactures, commerce, and finances, will you say that our age is more virtuous? When, looking to your own country—the best and happiest, because the freest of all—you will not dissimulate in your own mind what considerations influence the platforms of your political parties; and then in contra-position will reflect upon those times when Timon of Athens, chosen to take part in his country's government, assembled his friends and renounced their friendship, in order that he might not be tempted by party considerations or by affections of amity, in his important duties toward the commonwealth. Then, having thus reflected, say, "Take you our own age to be more virtuous, and therefore more ensured against the reverses of fortune, than those older times?"

But perhaps there is a greater amount of private happiness, and by the broad diffusion of private welfare, the security of the commonwealth is more lasting and more sure?

Caraccioli, having been ambassador in England, when returned to Italy, said, "that England is the most detestable country in the world, because there are to be found twenty different sorts of religion, but only two kinds of sauces with which to season meat."

There is a point in that questionable jest. Materialism! curse of our age! Who can seriously speak about the broad diffusion of happiness in a country where contentment is measured according to how many kinds of sauces we can taste? My people is by far not the most material. We are not much given to the cupidity of becoming rich. We know the word "enough." The simplicity of our manners makes us easily contented in our material relations; we like rather to be free than to be rich; we look for an honourable profit, that we may have upon what to live; but we don't like to live for the sake of profit; augmentation of property and of wealth with us is not the aim of our life—we prefer tranquil, independent mediocrity to the incessant excitement and incessant toil of cupidity and gain. Such is the character of my nation; and yet I have known a countryman of mine who blew out his brains because he had no means more to eat daily patés de foi gras and drink champagne. Well, that was no Hungarian character, but, though somewhat eccentrically, he characterized the leading feature of our century.

Indeed, are your richest money-kings happier than Fabricius was, when he preferred his seven acres of land, worked by his own hands, to the treasures of an empire? Are the ladies of to-day, adorned with all the gorgeous splendour of wealth, of jewels, and of art, happier than those ladies of ancient Rome have been, to whom it was forbidden to wear silk and jewelry, or drive in a carriage through the streets of Rome? Are the ladies of to-day happier in their splendid parlours, than the Portias and the Cornelias have been in the homely retirement of their modest nurseries? Nay; all that boundless thirst of wealth, which is the ruling spirit of our age, and the moving power of enterprising energy, all this hunting after treasures, and all its happiest results, have they made men nobler, better, and happier? Have they improved their soul, or even their body and their health, at least so much that the richest of men could eat and digest two dinners instead of one? Or has the insatiable thirst of material gain originated a purer patriotism? has it made mankind more devoted to their country, more ready to sacrifice for public interest? If that were the case, then I would gladly confess the error of my doubts, and take the pretended larger amount of happiness for a guarantee of the future of the commonwealth. But, ladies and gentlemen! a single word—the manner in which we use it, distorting its original meaning, often characterizes a whole century. You all know the word "idiot;" almost every living language has adopted it, and all languages attach to it the idea that an "idiot" is a poor, ignorant, useless wretch, nearly insane. Well, "idiot" is a word of Greek extraction, and meant with the Greek a man who cared nothing for the public interest, but was all devoted to the selfish pursuit of private profit, whatever might have been its results to the community. Oh! what an immense, what a deplorable change must have occurred in the character of Humanity, till unconsciously we came to the point, that by what name the ancient Greeks would have styled those European money-kings, who, for a miserable profit, administer to the unrelenting despots their eternal loans, to oppress nations with, we now apply that very name to the wretched creatures incapable to do any thing for themselves. We bear compassion for the idiots of to-day, but the modern editions of Greek idiotism, though loaded with the bloody scars of a hundred thousand orphans, and with the curse of millions, stand high in honour, and go on, proudly glorying in their criminal idiotism, heaping up the gold of the world.

But I may be answered, after all, though our age be not so virtuous, and though the large accumulation in wealth has in reality not made mankind happier; still, it cannot be denied, you are in a prosperous condition, and prosperity is a solid basis of your country's future. Industry, navigation, commerce, have so much developed, they have formed so many ties by which every citizen is linked to his country's fate, that your own material interest is a security to your country's future.

In loving your own selves you love your country, and in loving your country you love your own selves. This community of public and private interest will make you avoid the stumbling-block over which others fell. Prosperity is, of course, a great benefit; it is one of the aims of human society; but when prosperity becomes too material, it does not always guarantee the future. Paradoxical as it may appear, too much prosperity is often dangerous, and some national misfortune is now and then a good preservative of prosperity. For great prosperity makes nations careless of their future; seeing no immediate danger, they believe no danger possible; and then when a danger comes, either by sudden chance or by the slow accumulation of noxious elements, then, frightened by the idea that in meeting the danger their private property might be injured or lost, selfishness often prevails over patriotism, and men become ready to submit to arrogant pretensions, and compromise with exigencies at the price of principles, and republics flatter despots, and freemen covet the friendship and indulgence of tyrants, only that things may go on just as they go, though millions weep and nations groan; but still, things should go on just as they go, because every change may claim a sacrifice, or affect our thriving private interest. Such is often the effect of too great, of too secure prosperity. Therefore, prosperity alone affords yet no security.

You remember the tale of Polycrates. He was the happiest of men; good luck attended every one of his steps; success crowned all he undertook, and a friend thus spoke to him: "Thou art too happy for thy happiness to last. Appease the anger of the Eumenides by a voluntary sacrifice, or deprive thyself of what thou most valuest among all that thou possessest." Polycrates obeyed, and drew from his finger a precious jewel, of immense value, dear to his heart, and threw it into the sea. Soon after a fish was brought to his house, and his cook found the precious ring in the belly of the fish; but the friend who advised him hastened to flee from the house, and shook the dust of its threshold from his shoes, because he feared a great mischief must fall upon that too prosperous house. There is a deep meaning in that tale of Polycrates.

Machiavel says, that it is now and then necessary to recall the constituting essential principles to the memory of nations. And who is charged by Providence with this task? Misfortune! It was the battles of Cannaê and of Thrasymene which recalled the Romans to the love of their fatherland; nations had till now, about such things, no other teacher than misfortune. They should choose to have a less afflicting one. They can have it. To point this out will be the final object of my remarks, but so much is certain, that prosperity alone is yet no security for the future, even of the happiest commonwealth. Those ancient nations have been also prosperous. They were industrious, as your nation is; their land has been covered with cities and villages, well-cultivated fields, blessed with the richest crops, and crowded with countless herds spread over immense territories, furrowed with artificial roads; their flourishing cities swarmed with artists, and merchants, and workmen, and pilots, and sailors, like as New York does. Their busy labourers built gigantic water-works, digged endless canals, and carried distant waters through the sands of the desert; their mighty, energetic spirit built large and secure harbours, dried the marshy lakes, covered the sea with vessels, the land with living beings, and spread a creation of life and movement along the earth. Their commerce was broad as the known world. Tyre exchanged its purple for the silk of Serica; Cashmere's soft shawls, to-day yet a luxury of the wealthiest, the diamonds of Golconda, the gorgeous carpets of Lydia, the gold of Ophir and Saba, the aromatic spices and jewels of Ceylon, and the pearls and perfumes of Arabia, the myrrh, silver, gold dust, and ivory of Africa, as well as the amber of the Baltic and the tin of Thulé, appeared alike in their commerce, raising them in turn to the dominion of the world, and undoing them by too careless prosperity. The manner and the shape of one or the other art, of one or other industry, has changed; the steam-engine has replaced the rowing-bench, and cannon replaced the catapult; but, as a whole, even your country, which you are proud to hear styled "the living wonder of the world"—yes, even your country in the New World, and England in the Old—England, that gigantic workshop of industry, surrounded with a beautiful evergreen garden; yes, all the dominions of the Anglo-Saxon race, can claim no higher praise of its prosperity, than when we say, that you have reproduced the grandeur of those ancient nations, and nearly equal their prosperity. And what has become of them? A sad skeleton. What remains of their riches, of their splendour, and of their vast dominions? An obscure recollection; a vain memory. Thus fall empires; thus vanish nations, which have no better guardians than their prosperity. But "we have," will you say, "we have a better guardian—our freedom, our republican institutions; our confederation uniting so many glorious stars into one mighty galaxy—these are the ramparts of our present, these our future security."

Well, it would ill become me to investigate if there be nothing "rotten in the state of Denmark," and certainly I am not the man who could feel inclined to undervalue the divine power of liberty; to underrate the value of your democratic institutions, and the vitality of your glorious Union. It is to them I look in the solitary hours of meditation, and when, overwhelmed with the cares of the patriot, my soul is groaning under nameless woes, it is your freedom's sunny light which dispels the gloomy darkness of despondency; here is the source whence the inspiration of hope is flowing to the mourning world, that down-trodden millions at the bottom of their desolation still retain a melancholy smile upon their lips, and still retain a voice in their bleeding chest, to thank the Almighty God that the golden thread of freedom is not yet lost on earth. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, all this I feel, and all this I know, reflecting upon your freedom, your institutions, and your Union; but casting back my look into the mirror of the past, there I see upon mouldering ground, written with warning letters, the dreadful truth, that all this has nothing new; all this has been; and all this has never yet been proved sufficient security. Freedom is the fairest gift of Heaven; but it is not the security of itself. Democracy is the embodiment of freedom, which in itself is but a principle. But what is the security of democracy? And if you answer, "The Union is;" then I ask, "And where is the security of the Union?" Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Freedom is no new word. It is as old as the world. Despotism is new, but Freedom not. And yet it has never yet proved a charter to the security of nations. Republic is no new word. It is as old as the word "Society." Before Rome itself, republics absorbed the world. There were in all Europe, Africa and Asia Minor, but republics to be found, and many among them democratic. Men had to wander to far Persia if they would have desired to know what sort of thing a monarch is. And all they have perished; the small ones by foreign power, the large ones by domestic vice. And union, and confederacy, the association of societies—a confederate republic of republics, is also no new invention. Greece has known it and flourished by it, for a while. Rome has known it; by such associations she attacked the world. The world has known them; with them it defended itself against Rome. The so-called Barbarians of Europe, beyond the Danube and the Rhine, have known it; it was by a confederacy of union that they resisted the ambitious mistress of the world. Your own country, America, has known it; the traditionary history of the Romans of the West, of those six Indian Nations, bears the records of it, out of an older time than your ancestors settled in this land; the wise man of the Onondaga Nation has exercised it long before your country's legislators built upon that basis your independent home. And still it proved in itself alone no security to all those nations who have known it before you. Your own fathers have seen the last of the Mohawks burying his bloody tomahawk in the namesake flood, and have listened to the majestic words of Logan, spoken with the dignity of an Aemilius, that there exists no living being on earth in the veins of whom one drop of the blood of his race did flow. Well, had history nothing else to teach us, than that all what the wisdom of man did conceive, and all that his energy has executed through the innumerable days of the past, and all that we take to be glorious in nations and happy to men, cannot so much do as to ensure a future even to such a flourishing commonwealth as yours; then weaker hearts may well ask, What good is it to warn us of a fatality which we cannot escape; what good is it to hold up the mournful monuments of a national mortality to sadden our heart, if all that is human must share that common doom? Let us do as we can, and so far as we can, and let the future bring what it may. But that would be the speech of one having no faith in the all-watching Eye, and regarding the eternal laws of the universe not as an emanation of a bountiful Providence, but of a blind fatality, which plays at hazard with the destinies of men. I never will share such blasphemy. Misfortune came over me, and came over my house, and came over my guiltless nation; still I never have lost my trust in the Father of all. I have lived the days when the people of my oppressed country went along weeping over the immense misfortune that they cannot pray, seeing the downfall of the most just cause and the outrageous triumph of the most criminal of all crimes on earth; and they went along not able to pray, and weeping that they are not able to pray. I shuddered at the terrible tidings in the desolation of my exile; but I could pray, and sent the consolation home, that I do not despair; that I believe in God, and trust to His bountiful providence, and ask them who of them dares despair when I do not? I was in exile, as I am now, but arrogant despots were debating about my blood, my infant children in prison, my wife, the faithful companion of my sorrows and my cares, hunted like a noble deer, and my sisters in the tyrant's fangs, red with the blood of my nation, and the heart of my aged mother breaking, about the shattered fortunes of her house, and all of them at last homeless wanderers, cast to the winds, like the yellow leaves of a fallen tree; and my fatherland, my dear, beloved fatherland, half murdered, half in chains, and humanity nearly all oppressed, and those who are not yet oppressed looking with compassion at our sad fate, but taking it for wise policy not to help, and the sky of freedom dark on our horizon, and darkening fast over all, and nowhere a ray of hope; a lustre of consolation nowhere; and still I did not despair; and my faith to God, my trust to Providence has spread over my down-trodden land.

I therefore, who do not despair of my own country's future, though it be overwhelmed with misfortunes, I certainly have an unwavering faith in the destinies of Humanity; and though the mournful example of so many fallen nations instructs us, that neither the diffusion of knowledge, nor the progress of industry, neither prosperity, nor power, nay, not even freedom itself, can secure a future to nations, still I say there is one thing which can secure it; there is one law, the obedience to which would prove a rock upon which the freedom and happiness of nations may rest sure to the end of their days. And that law, ladies and gentlemen, is the law proclaimed by our Saviour; that rock is the unperverted religion of Christ. But while the consolation of this sublime truth falls meekly upon my soul like as the moonlight falls upon the smooth sea, I humbly claim your forbearance, ladies and gentlemen; I claim it in the name of the Almighty Lord, to hear from my lips a mournful truth. It may displease you; it may offend; but still truth is truth. Offended vanity may blame me; power may frown at me, and pride may call my boldness arrogant, but still truth is truth, and I, bold in my unpretending humility, will proclaim that truth; I will proclaim it from land to land and from sea to sea; I will proclaim it with the faith of the martyrs of old, till the seed of my word falls upon the consciences of men. Let come what come may, I say with Luther: God help me, I cannot otherwise. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the law of our Saviour, the religion of Christ, can secure a happy future to nations. But, alas! there is yet no Christian people on earth—not a single one among all. I have spoken the word. It is harsh, but true. Nearly two thousand years have passed since Christ has proclaimed the eternal decree of God, to which the happiness of mankind is bound, and has sanctified it with His own blood, and still there is not one single nation on earth which would have enacted into its law-book that eternal decree. Men believe in the mysteries of religion, according to the creed of their church; they go to church, and they pray and give alms to the poor, and drop the balm of consolation into the wounds of the afflicted, and believe they do all that the Lord commanded to do, and believe they are Christians. No! Some few may be, but their nation is not—their country is not; the era of Christianity has yet to come, and when it comes, then, only then, will be the future of nations sure. Far be it from me to misapprehend the immense benefit which Christian religion, such as it already is, has operated in mankind's history. It has influenced the private character of men, and the social condition of millions; it was the nurse of a new civilization, and softening the manners and morals of men, its influence has been felt even in the worst quarter of history—in war. The continual massacres of the Greek and Roman kings and chiefs, and the extermination of nations by them—the all-devastating warfare of the Timurs and Gengis Khans—are in general not more to be met with; only my own dear fatherland was doomed to experience once more the cruelties of the Timurs and Gengis Khans out of the sacrilegious hands of the dynasty of Austria, which calumniates Christianity by calling itself Christian. But though that beneficial influence of Christianity we have cheerfully to acknowledge, yet it is still not to be disputed that the law of Christ does yet nowhere rule the Christian world.

Montesquieu himself, whom nobody could charge to be partial for republics, avows that despotism is incompatible with the Christian religion, because the Christian religion commands meekness, and despotism claims arbitrary power to the whims and passions of a frail mortal; and still it is more than 1,500 years since the Christian religion became dominant, and through that long period despotism has been pre-eminently dominant; you can scarcely show one single truly democratic republic of any power which had subsisted but for a hundred years, exercising any influence upon the condition of the world. Constantine, raising the Christian religion to Rome's imperial throne, did not restore the Romans to their primitive virtues. Constantinople became the sewer of vice; Christian worship did not change the despotic habits of Kings. The Tituses, the Trajans, the Antonines, appeared seldom on Christian thrones; on the contrary, mankind has seen, in the name of religion, lighted the piles of persecution, and the blazing torches of intolerance; the earth overspread with corpses of the million victims of fanaticism; the fields watered with blood; the cities wrapped in flames, and empires ravaged with unrelenting rage. Why? Is it Christian religion which caused these deplorable facts, branding the brow of partly degraded, partly outraged Humanity? No. It was precisely the contrary; the fact that the religion of Christ never yet was practically taken for an all-overruling law, the obedience to which, outweighing every other consideration, would have directed the policy of nations—that fact is the source of evil, whence the oppression of millions has overflowed the earth, and which makes the future of the proudest, of the freest nation, to be like a house built upon sand.

Every religion has two parts. One is the dogmatical, the part of worship; the other is the moral part.

The first, the dogmatic part, belonging to those mysterious regions which the arm of human understanding cannot reach, because they belong to the dominion of belief, and that begins where the dominion of knowledge ends—that part of religion, therefore, the dogmatic one, should be left to every man to settle between God and his own conscience. It is a sacred field, whereon worldly power never should dare to trespass, because there it has no power to enforce its will. Force can murder; it can make liars and hypocrites, but no violence on earth can force a man to believe what he does not believe. Yet the other part of religion, the moral part, is quite different. That teaches duties toward ourselves and toward our fellow-men. It can be, therefore, not indifferent to the human family: it can be not indifferent to whatever community, if those duties be fulfilled or not, and no nation can, with full right, claim the title of a Christian nation, no government the title of a Christian government, which is not founded upon the basis of Christian morality, and which takes it not for an all-overruling law to fulfil the moral duties ordered by the religion of Christ toward men and nations, who are but the community of men, and toward mankind, which is the community of nations. Now, look to those dread pages of history, stained with the blood of millions, spilt under the blasphemous pretext of religion; was it the intent to vindicate the rights, and enforce the duties of Christian morality, which raised the hand of nation against nation, of government against government? No: it was the fanaticism of creed, and the fury of dogmatism. Nations and governments rose to propagate their manner to worship God, and their own mode to believe the inscrutable mysteries of eternity; but nobody has yet raised a finger to punish the sacrilegious violation of the moral laws of Christ, nobody ever stirred to claim the fulfilment of the duties of Christian morality toward nations. There is much speaking about the separation of Church and State, and yet, on close examination, we shall see that there was, and there is, scarcely one single government entirely free from the direct or indirect influence of one or other religious denominations; scarcely one which would not at least bear a predilection, if not countenance with favour, one or another creed—but creed, and always creed. The mysteries of dogmatism, and the manner of worship, enter into these considerations; they enter even into the politics, and turn the scales of hatred and affection; but certainly there is not one single nation, not one single government, the policy of which would ever have been regulated by that law of morality which our Saviour has promulgated as the eternal law of God, which shall be obeyed in all the relations of men to men. But you say, of the direct or indirect amalgamation of Church and State, proved to be dangerous to nations in Christian and for Christian times, because it affected the individual rights of men, and among them, the dearest of all, the liberty of conscience and the freedom of thought. Well, of this danger, at least, the future of your country is free; because here, at least, in this, your happy land, religious liberty exists. Your institutions left no power to your government to interfere with the religion of your citizens. Here every man is free to worship God as he chooses to do.

And that is true, and it is a great glory of your country that it is true. It is a fact which entitles to the hope that your nation will revive the law of Christ, even on earth. However, the guarantee which your Constitution affords to religious liberty is but a negative part of a Christian government. There are, besides that, positive duties to be fulfilled. He who does no violence to the conscience of man, has but the negative merit of a man doing no wrong; but as he who does not murder, does not steal, and does not covet what his neighbour's is, but by not stealing, not murdering, not coveting what our neighbour's is, we did yet no positive good; a man who does not murder has not yet occasion to the title of virtuous man. And here is precisely the infinite merit of the Christian religion. While Moses, in the name of the Almighty God, ordered but negative degrees toward fellow-men, the Christian religion commands positive virtue. Its divine injunctions are not performed by not doing wrong; it desires us to do good. The doctrine of Jesus Christ is sublime in its majestic simplicity. "Thou shalt love God above all, and love thy neighbour as thou lovest thyself."

This sublime doctrine is the religion of love. It is the religion of charity. "Though I speak with the tongues of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass and tinkling cymbals. Though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing." Thus speaks the Lord, and thus speaking He gives the law, "Do unto others as thou desirest others to do unto thee." Now, in the name of Him who gave this law to humanity, to build up the eternal bliss and temporal happiness of mankind, in the name of that Eternal Legislator, I ask, is in that charity, in that fundamental law of Christianity, any limit of distinction drawn in man in his personal, and man in his national capacity? Is it but a law for a man where he is alone, and can do but little good? Is it no law more where two are together, and can do more good? No law more when millions are together? Am I in my personal adversities; is my aged mother in her helpless desolation; are my homeless sisters whom you feed to-day, that they may work to-morrow; are we your neighbours, unto whom you do as you would others in a similar position do unto yourself? And is every one of my down-trodden people a neighbour to every one of you? but all my people collectively, is it not a neighbour to you? And is my nation not a neighbour to your nation? Is my down-trodden land not a neighbour to your down-trodden land? Oh! my God, men speak of the Christian religion and style themselves Christians, and yet make a distinction between virtue in private life and virtue in public life; as if the divine law of Charity would have been given only for certain small relations, and not for all the relations between men and men.

"There he is again, with his eternal complaints about his country's wrongs;" may perhaps somebody remark: "This is an assembly of charity, assembled to ease his private woes of family; and there he is again speaking of his country's wrongs, and alluding to our foreign policy, about which he knows our views to be divided." Thus I may be charged.

My "private family woes!" But all my woes and all the woes of my family, are concentrated in the unwarrantable oppression of my fatherland. You are an assembly of charity, it is true, and the Almighty may requite you for it; but being a charitable assembly, can you blame me that the filial and fraternal devotion of my heart, in taking with gratitude the balm of consolation which your charity pours into the bleeding wounds of my family, looks around to heal those wounds, the torturing pains of which you ease, but which cannot be cured but by justice and charity done to my fatherland. Shall this sad heart of mine be contented by leaving to my homeless mother and sisters the means to have their bread by honest labour, their daily bread salted with the bitter tears of exile; and shall I not care to leave them the hope that their misfortune will have an end; that they will see again their beloved home; that they will see it independent and free, and live where their fathers lived, and sleep the tranquil sleep of death in that soil with which the ashes of their fathers mingle? Shall I not care to give the consolation to my aged mother, that when her soon departing soul, crowned with the garland of martyrdom, looks down from the home of the blessed, the united joy of the heavens will thrill through her immortal spirit, seeing her dear, dear Hungary free? Your views are divided on the subject, it may be; but can your views be divided upon the subject that it is the command of God to love your neighbours as you love yourselves? That it is the duty of Christians, that it is the fundamental principle of the Christian religion, to do unto others as you desire others to do unto you? And if there is, if there can be no difference of opinion in regard to the principle; if no one in this vast assembly—whatever be the platform of his party—ever would disclaim this principle, will any one blame me that in the name of Christ I am bold to claim the application of that principle? I should not speak of politics! Well, I have spoken of Christianity. Your politics either agree with the Law of Christ, or they do not agree with it. If they don't agree, then your politics are not Christian; and if they agree, then I cause no division among you.

And I shall not speak of my people's wrongs! Oh! my people—thou heart of my heart, thou life of my life—to thee are bent the thoughts of my mind, and they will remain bent to thee, though all the world may frown. To thee are pledged all the affections of my heart, and they will be pledged to thee as long as one drop of blood throbs within this heart. Thine are the cares of my waking hours; thine are the dreams of my restless sleep. Shall I forget thee, but for a moment! Never! Never! Cursed be the moment, and cursed be I in that moment, in which thou wouldst be forgotten by me!

Thou art oppressed, O my fatherland! because the principles of Christianity have not been executed in practice; because the duties of Christianity have not been fulfilled; because the precepts of Christianity have not been obeyed; because the law of Christianity did not control the policy of nations; because there are many impious governments to offend the law of Christ, but there was none to do the duties commanded by Christ.

Thou art fallen, O my country, because Christianity has yet to come; but it is not yet come—nowhere! Nowhere on earth! And with the sharp eye of misfortune piercing the dark veil of the future, and with the tongue of Cassandria relating what I see, I cry it out to high Heaven, and shout it out to the Earth—"Nations, proud of your momentary power; proud of your freedom; proud of your prosperity—your power is vain, your freedom is vain, your industry, your wealth, your prosperity are vain; all these will not save you from sharing the mournful fate of those old nations, not less powerful than you, not less free, not less prosperous than you—and still fallen, as you yourself will fall—all vanished as you will vanish, like a bubble thrown up from the deep! There is only the law of Christ, there are only the duties of Christianity, which can secure your future, by securing at the same time humanity."

Duties must be fulfilled, else they are an idle word. And who would dispute that there is a positive duty in that law, "Love thy neighbour as thou lovest thyself. Do unto others as thou wouldst that others do unto thee." Now, if there are duties in that law comprised, who shall execute them, if free and powerful nations do not execute them? No government can meddle with the private relations of its millions of citizens so much as to enforce the positive virtue of Christian charity, in the thousand-fold complications of private life. That will be impossible; and our Saviour did not teach impossibilities. By commanding charity toward fellow-men in human relations, He commanded it also to governments. It is in their laws toward their own citizens; it is in their policy toward other nations, that governments and nations can fulfil those duties of Christianity; and what they can, that they should. How could governments hope to see their own citizens and other nations observing toward them the positive duties of Christian morality, when they themselves do not observe them against others; when oppressed nations, the victims, not of their own faults, but of the grossest violation of the law of Christ, look in vain around to find out a nation among Christian nations, and a government among Christian governments, doing unto them, in the hour of their supreme need, as the Saviour said that it is duty to do unto others in every case?

Yes, gentlemen, as long as the principles of Christian morality are not carried up into the international relations—as long as the fragile wisdom of political exigencies overrules the doctrines of Christ, there is no freedom on earth firm, and the future of no nation sure. But let a powerful nation like yours raise Christian morality into its public conduct, that nation will have a future against which the very gates of hell itself will never prevail. The morality of its policy will react upon the morality of its individuals, and preserve it from domestic vice, which, without that prop, ever yet has attended too much prosperity, and ever yet was followed by a dreadful fall. The morality of its policy will support justice and freedom on earth, and thus augmenting the number of free nations, all acting upon the same principle, its very future will be placed under the guarantee of them all, and preserve it from foreign danger—which is better to prevent than to repel. And its future will be placed under the guarantee of the Almighty himself, who, true to His eternal decrees, proved through the downfall of so many mighty nations, that He always punished the fathers in the coming generations; but alike bountiful as just, will not and cannot forsake those to whom He gave power to carry out His laws on earth, and who willingly answered His divine call. Power in itself never yet was sure. It is right which makes power firm; and it is community which makes right secure. The task of PETER'S apostolate is accomplished—the Churches are founded in the Christian world. The task of PAUL'S apostolate is accomplished—the abuses of fanaticism and intolerance are redressed. But the task of him whom the Saviour most loved, is not yet accomplished. The gospel of charity rules not yet the Christian world; and without charity, Christianity, you know, is "but sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal."

Oh! Charity, thou fairest gift of Heaven! thou family link between nations; thou rock of their security; thou deliverer of the oppressed; when comes thy realm? Where is the man whom the Lord has chosen to establish thy realm? Who is the man whom the Lord has chosen to realize the religion, the tenets of which the most beloved disciple of the Saviour has recorded from his divine lips? who is the man to reform, not Christian creeds, but Christian morality? Man! No; that is no task for a man, but for a nation. Man may teach a doctrine; but that doctrine of Charity is taught, and taught with such sublime simplicity, that no sectarist yet has disputed its truth. Historians have been quarrelling about mysteries, and lost empires through their disputes. The Greeks were controversially disputing whether the Holy Ghost proceeds from the Father alone, or from the Father and Son; and Mahomet battered the walls of Byzantium, they heard it not; he wrested the cross from Santa Sophia; they saw it not, till the cimeter of the Turk stopped the rage of quarrel with the blow of death. In other quarters they went on disputing and deciding with mutual anathemas the question of transfiguration and many other mysteries, which, being mysteries, constitute the private dominion of belief; but the doctrine of charity none of them disputes; there they all agree; nay, in the idle times of scholastical subtility, they have been quarrelling about the most extravagant fancies of a scorched imagination. Mighty folios have been written about the problem, how many angels could dance upon the top of a needle without touching each other? The folly of subtility went so far as to profane the sacred name of God, by disputing if He, being omnipotent, has the power to sin? If, in the holy wafer, He be present dressed or undressed? If the Saviour would have chosen the incarnation in the shape of a gourd, instead of a man, how would he have preached, how acted miracles, and how had been crucified? And when they went to the theme of investigating if it was a whip or a lash with which the angels have whipped St. Jerome for trying to imitate in his writings the pagan Cicero, it was but after centuries that Abbot Cartaut dared to write that if St. Jerome was whipped at all, he was whipped for having badly imitated Cicero. Still, the doctrine of Christian charity is so sublime in its simplicity, that not even the subtility of scholasticism dared ever to profane it by any controversy, and still that sublime doctrine is not executed, and the religion of charity not realized yet. The task of this glorious progress is only to be done by a free and powerful nation, because it is a task of action, and not of teaching. Individual man can but execute it in the narrow compass of the small relations of private life; it is only the power of a nation which can raise it to become a ruling law on earth; and before this is done, the triumph of Christianity is not arrived—and without that triumph, the freedom and prosperity even of the mightiest nation is not for a moment safe from internal decay, or from foreign violence.

Which is the nation to achieve that triumph of Christianity by protecting justice out of charity? Which shall do it, if not yours? Whom the Lord has blessed above all, from whom He much expects, because He has given her much.

Ye Ministers of the Gospel, who devote your lives to expound the eternal truths of the book of life, remember my humble words, and remind those who, with pious hearts, listen to your sacred words, that half virtue is no virtue at all, and that there is no difference in the duties of charity between public and private life.

Ye Missionaries, who devote your lives to the propagation of Christianity, before you embark for the dangers of far, inhospitable shores, remind those whom you leave, that the example of a nation exercising right and justice on earth by charity, would be the mightiest propagandism of Christian religion.

Ye Patriots, loving your country's future, and anxious about her security, remember the admonitions of history—remember that the freedom, the power, and the prosperity in which your country glories, is no new apparition on earth; others also had it, and yet they are gone. The prudence with which your forefathers have founded this commonwealth, the courage with which you develop it, other nations also have shown, and still they are gone.

And ye ladies; ye fairest incarnation of the spirit of love, which vivifies the universe, remember my words. The heart of man is given into your tender hands. You mould it in its infancy. You imprint the lasting mark of character upon man's brow, You ennoble his youth; you soften the harshness of his manhood; you are the guardian angels of his hoary age. All your vocation is love, and your life is charity. The religion of charity wants your apostolate, and requires your aid. It is to you I appeal, and leave the sublime topic of my humble reflections to the meditations of your Christian hearts.

And thus, my task of to-day is done. Man shall earn the means of life by the sweat of his brow. Thus shall my family. Your charity of to-day has opened the way to it. The school which my mother, if God spares her life, will superintend, and in which two of my sisters will teach, and the humble farm which my third sister and her family shall work, will be the gift of your charity to-day.

A stony weight of cares is removed from my breast. Oh! be blessed for it, be thanked for it, in the name of them all who have lost every thing, but not their trust to God, and not the benefit of being able to work. My country will forgive me that I have taken from her the time of one day's work—to give bread to my aged mother and to my homeless sisters, the poor victims of unrelenting tyranny. Returning to Europe, I may find my own little children in a condition that again the father will have to take the spade or the pen into his hand to give them bread.

And my fatherland will again forgive me, that that time is taken from her. That is all what I take from her; nothing else of what is given, or what belongs to her. And the day's work which I take from my country, I will restore it by a night's labour. To-day, the son and the brother has done his task; you have requited his labour by a generous charity; the son and brother thanks you for it, and the patriot, to resume his task, bids you a hearty, warm farewell.