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
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
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!