My favorie speech ever written...
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
ubject 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 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. |
