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.