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https://avalon.law.yale.edu/18th_century/patrick.asp
Give Me Liberty Or Give
Me Death
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
responsibility which we hold 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 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 temporal 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 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 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;
unable 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 by 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!
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