Patrick Henry Speaks to Americans Today

Patrick Henry’s Speech at St. John’s Church,

March 23, 1775
Edited by: Leonard Stone

March 4, 2010

No man, Mr. President, thinks more highly than I do of patriotism, as well as the abilities of the very honorable gentlemen who have just addressed the house. Different men often see the same subject in different lights; therefore I hope it will not be thought disrespectful, to those gentlemen if, entertaining, as I do, opinions very opposite to theirs. I should speak my sentiments freely, and without reservation. This is not time for ceremony. The question before the house is one of an awful moment to this country. For my own part, I consider it nothing less than a question of freedom or slavery. 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 the truth, and fulfill the great responsibility which we hold to God and our country. Should I withhold my opinions at such a time, through a fear of giving offense? I would consider myself as guilty of treason toward my country, and disloyal to the majesty of Heaven who 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 the siren till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the determining part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty? Are we disposed to be of a number of those who, having eyes, see not, having ears, hear not those 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 no way of judging 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 compares with those warlike preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies 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, what does this martial array mean, if not to force us to submission? Can gentleman assign any other possible motive for it? Has Great Briton 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 has been so long forging.

And what have we to oppose 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; it has all been in vain. Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication? What terms shall we find, that have not already been exhausted?

Let us not, I beseech you, deceive ourselves longer. 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 implored its intervention to arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and Parliament. Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrations 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 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 dishonorably 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 be obtained; we must fight! I repeat sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms, and to the God of hosts, is all that is left to us.

They tell us that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. When shall we be stronger? Will it be next year, or the next? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and a British guard is 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 elusive phantom of hope, until our enemies have bound us hand and foot?

We are not weak if we make proper use of the means which the God of nature has placed in our power. Three million people armed in the holy cause of liberty, in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force our enemy can send against us.

Besides 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 with us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone: it is to the vigilant, the active, and the brave. Besides 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! The 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 vain 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 others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!

pel