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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