Give Me Liberty

Below is an adapted version of Patrick Henry's famous speech. These words have always inspired me, and so today I decided to make them my own in an effort to awaken the slumbering giant of the sovereign American mind.


No man thinks more highly than I do of the patriotism, as well as abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen who have served this great country. 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 our nation 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 children. 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.


Dear citizen, 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 directly 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 this ministry for the last hundred years to justify those hopes with which gentlemen seem to solace themselves in their fields of toil. Is it that insidious smile with which our petitions are always 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 these gracious receptions of our petitions comport with the belligerent and wasteful actions which pillage our labor and cheat our children’s future. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of virtue and prosperity? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be prosperous that force must be called in to coerce virtue? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation; the last arguments to which tyrants 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? No, sir, there is none. These fearful preparations are meant for us: they can be meant for no other. They are built up to bind and rivet upon us those chains which conspiring tyrants have been so long forging. And what have we to oppose them? Shall we continue to consign to voting? Sir, we have been trying that for the last hundred years. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable; but it has been all in vain. Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves. We have done everything that could be done to avert the storm which even now continues to devour our liberties. We have petitioned; we have remonstrated; we have supplicated; we have trusted our good fortune into hands of men who promise integrity, and have implored the preservation of our personal rights. 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 congressional thrones! In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of recapturing our scared sovereignty. 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 this nation has 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! We must fight not with swords, or guns, or weapons which can promise only death, but we must fight with that very weapon which enables life itself – the mind. No army can stop an idea whose time has come.


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 enslaved, and when military guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution or obsequious submission? 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. I repeat it, sir, no army can stop an idea whose time has come, and the idea of freedom is here already, arrayed in all its fearsome glory. The millions of people, armed with truth in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemies 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 and awaken minds to fight our battles with us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the virtuous, the brave. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard amidst the pounding of the printing press! The war is inevitable--and let it come! This war can only be lost if left un-fought.


It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Prosperity-- but there is no peace, there is not prosperity. The war is actually begun! Every gale that sweeps from the east brings to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Some of our brethren already presume themselves our masters! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Are roads so dear, or entitlements 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!