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.

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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.]