Patrick Henry - 03/23/1775 
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 questing 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 [Jer. 5:21], 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 [Matt. 26:48]. 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 [2 Chron.  32:8]. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone [Eccl. 9:11]; 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 [Jer. 6:14].  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 [Matt. 20:6]? 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! 
Give me liberty or give me death!
 
 
 
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