* * * * *
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.]
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.