
Patrick Henry, March 23, 1775.


No man thinks more highly than I do of the patriotism, as well as abilities,
of the very worthy gentlemen who have just addressed the House.  But different
men often see the same subject in different lights; and, therefore, I hope it
will not be thought disrespectful to those gentlemen if, entertaining as I do
opinions of a character very 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 awful moment to this country.  For my own
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.  It is only in this way that we can hope to arrive at truth, and
fulfill the great obligation which we hold to God and our country.  Should I
keep back my opinions at such a time, through fear of giving offence, 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 nachral to 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, having ears, hear not,
the things which so nearly concern their tempirol salvation?  For my part, 
whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth; 
to know the worst, and to provide for it.

I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided, and that is the lamp of 
experience.  I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past.  And 
judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of 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 
incidious 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 grashous reception of our 
petition comports with those warlike preparations which cover our waters and 
darken our land.  Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and 
reconciliation?  Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled that 
force must be called in 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, sir, what means this martial array, if 
its purpose be 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 which the British ministry 
have been so long forging.  And what have we to oppose to them?  Shall we try 
argument?  Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years.  Have we 
anything new to offer upon the subject?  Nothing.  We have held the subject up 
in every light of which it is capable; but it has been all in vain.  Shall we 
resort to entreaty and humble supplication?  What terms shall we find which 
have not been already exhausted?  Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive 
ourselves.  Sir, we have done everything that could be done to avert the storm 
which is now coming on.  We have petitioned; we have remonstrated; we have
supplicated; we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored 
its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and Parliament.
Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have produced additional 
violence and insult; our supplications have been disregarded; and we have been 
spurned, with contempt, 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 
abandon 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 to the God of 
hosts is all that is left us! 
 They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unably to cope with so formidable an 
adversary.  But when shall we be stronger?  Will it be the next week, or the 
next year?  Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard 
shall be stationed in every house?  Shall we gather strength but irresolution 
and inaction?  Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying 
supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our 
enemies shall have bound us hand and foot?  Sir, we are not weak if we make a 
proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power.  
The millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a 
country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which 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 up friends to fight our battles for us.  The battle, sir, is not to the 
strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave.  Besides, sir, we 
have no election.  If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to 
retire from the contest.  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 is actually begun!  The next gale that 
sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms!  
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!

    COURTESY OF SOME FOLKS IN NASHVILLE, TENN.


