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.]