GIVE ME LIBERTY OR GIVE ME DEATH

by Patrick Henry
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 fulfil 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 offence, 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.
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 these war-like 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 contendingif 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. Three 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 inevitableand let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come.
It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace,

Peacebut 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!