What would Patrick Henry say about mandatory vaccination religious exemption laws?
Patrick Henry - Give Me Liberty Or
Give Me Death
Give Me Liberty Or Give Me Death
Patrick Henry, March 23, 1775.
Patrick Henry, March 23, 1775.
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 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 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 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!
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