Patrick Henry, March 23, 1775
No man thinks more highly than I do of the patriotism and abilities of the worthy gentlemen who have just addressed the House. But different men often see the same subject in other lights; therefore, I hope it will not be considered disrespectful to those gentlemen if, entertaining as I do, opinions of a character opposite to theirs, I shall speak forth my sentiments freely and without reserve. This is no time for ceremony. The question before the House is one of the most urgent and crucial moments for this country. For my part, I consider it as nothing less than a question of freedom or slavery, and in proportion to the magnitude of the subject, ought to be the freedom of the debate. Only in this way can we hope to arrive at truth and fulfill our great responsibility to God and our country. Should I keep back my opinions at such a time, through fear of giving offense, I should consider myself as guilty of treason towards my country and of an act of disloyalty toward the Majesty of Heaven, which I revere above all earthly kings.
Mr. President, it is natural for man to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth and listen to the song of that siren till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty? Are we disposed to be of the number of those who, having eyes, see not, and ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation? Whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth, to understand the worst, and to take immediate action to provide for it.
I have one lamp by which my feet are guided: the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging the future but by the past. Judging by the past, I wish to understand what has been going on in the British ministry for the last ten years to justify those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves and the House. Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has been lately received? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition comports with those warlike preparations that cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary for a work of love and reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled that force must be called to win back our love?
Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation, the last arguments to which kings resort. I ask, gentlemen, what does this martial array mean if its purpose is not to force us to submission? Can gentlemen assign any other possible motive for it? Has Great Britain any enemy in this quarter of the world to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us; they can be meant for no other. They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains the British ministry has been forging for so long. And what have we to oppose them? Let’s try an argument. Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Do we have anything new to offer on the subject? Nothing. We have held the issue up in every light it can, but it has been all in vain.
Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication? What terms shall we find that still need to be exhausted? Let us not; I pray, you, sir, deceive ourselves. Sir, we have done everything possible to avert the storm which is now coming on. We had petitioned, remonstrated, supplicated, prostrated ourselves before the throne, and implored its interposition to arrest the ministry’s and Parliament’s tyrannical hands. Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult; our supplications have been disregarded; and we have been contemptuously spurned from the foot of the throne! In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free– if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending–if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to quit until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained–we must fight! I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms and the God of hosts is all left us!
They tell us, sir, that we are weak, unable to cope with a formidable adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week or the next year? Will it be when we are disarmed, and a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope until our enemies bound us hand and foot? Sir, we are not weak if we properly use those means that the God of nature has placed in our power. The millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty and in the country we possess, are invincible to any force our enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations and who will raise friends to fight our battles for us. The action, sir, is not to the strong alone but to the vigilant, active, and brave. Sir, we have no election. It is too late to retire from the contest if we were based enough to desire it. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevitable–and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come.
It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace– but there is no peace. The war has begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring the clash of resounding arms to our ears! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!