Give Me Liberty Or Give Me Death (oration)

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 has 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 remonstrance 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!

Hold Your Tongue (Oration)

Some people say that their heads are right on top of their stomachs and when anything goes wrong with their stomachs they cannot sleep.  An equally serious condition is one in which words are always on the tip’s of people’s tongue, so that reason never intervenes to stop their utterances.  This advice was once given to those whose speech is an intemperate; “Think before you speak; then talk to yourself,” ruling of the most difficult of all tasks.  For that reason, the ancient Persians taught their youth’s two things: to be secret, and to tell the truth.

Those who abuse speech are divided into three general classes:  The first are those who are always “putting people in their place” as if they were ordained by God and the Constitution to “tell off” everybody for what they call “their own good.” The second class is those who detract from the merit of others by criticizing, finding fault or putting an evil interpretation on all they say or do.  They go to an art museum and criticize every picture for not being hung properly, but they never see that the pictures in their own homes are all upside down.  A critical spirit is born of wrong behavior.  There is not a critical person in the world that is not in need of criticism.  Criticism of others is an escape from necessary self-criticism.  The third is made up of just plain liars.  Conscious of their own littleness and insignificance or by creating a mythical world, which is built according to their own specifications.

Socrates said:  “Speak that I may see thee.”  Speech is the index of the mind, and the summation of a soul, all that the person has been, is, and will be.  We can say:  “He is an ignorant man,”  “He is a proud man,”  “He is a kind man,”  “He is a cruel man.”

The whirlwind on the tongue is the sign of the tempest in the soul.  If there is envy in the heart, it will show in the tone of the voice; if there is love in the heart even the words share the glow.  But a skunk in the cellar soon smells up the whole house. It is a physical and a psychological impossibility to develop the art of a good and humble heart out of which comes out words.  The power of edifying speech increases with the improvement in morals.  Many of the suggestions are in reality nothing else than the art of deceit and amount to “How to disguise you feeling,” “How to praise when you want to damn,”  “How to compliment when you want to condemn,”  “How to influence people when you hate them.”