[_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.
* * * * *