Works
Cited
Henry, Patrick. “Give Me Liberty or Give
Me Death.” LibertyOnline. 1999. Web.
11 Mar. 2014.
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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 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, 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!
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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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