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. Beside, 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, 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 breathren 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!
