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 that 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 towards 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 these 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 motives 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 on 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 longer.
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 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 the 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 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!
