The Ellensburg dawn. [volume] (Ellensburg, Wash.) 1898-1914, 1902-07-05

PATRICK tIENRY'S MEMORABLE SPEECH
Delivered the Hall Of Philadelphia the Fourth Day
of July, Seventeen Hundred Seventy'Six

All around you DEATH but nowhe 2
pity.
Now, cxecutioners Of the human
race, kneel down; yes kneel down on
the Sawdust OF the scafold, lay your
perfumed heads on the block; bless the
AK as it fall--the AK sharpened for the
poor mans head. Such is the message
of the declaration of man to the kings
OF the world
And shall we faltcr now? And shall
we start back appalled, when our feet
press the holy threshold Of freedom?
Do you see quailing faces around you
when our wives have been butchered;
when the hearthstones of our land are
red with the blood of little children?
What? Are there shrinking hearts
of faltsring voices here when the very
dead of our battlehelds arise and call
upon us to sign the parchment or be
accurscd.
Sign. if the next moment the gibbet's
rope is around your neck.
Sign. if the next moment this hall
rigs with the echo of the falling AK.
Sign. by all your hopes in life or
death as fathers or husbands,
Eternal eye look over Europe, Asia,
Africa, and behold evermore terrible
sight-men trodden down beneath the
the oppressOrs feet: nations lost in
blood; murder and superstition walk
ing hand in hand over the graves of
their victims, and not a single voice to
whisper hope to man. He stands there
the angel, his hands trembling with
the black record of human guilt.
But bark. The voice of Jehovah
speaks out from the awful cloud: "Let
there be light" again. Let there be a
new world.
Tell my people, the down trodden
millions, to go out from the old world
Tell them to 60 out from wrong, OPP
preston and blood.
Tell them to go out from the old
world to build up my alter in the new.
AS God lives, my friends, | believe
that to be His voice.
Yes, were my soul trembling on the
brink of eternity, were this hand freez.
ing in death; my voice choking with
the last struggle, | would still, with
the last wave OF this hand, with the
last gasp of that voice, implore you to
remember the truth--God has given
America to be free.
Yes, as | sink into the gloomy
shadows of the grave, with my last
gasp l would bog you to sign that
parchment in the name of one who
made the Savior who redeemed you in
the name of the millions whose very
breath is now hushed in intense expec-
tations as they look up to you for tho
awful words-yOu are free
| More than century has passed since
Patrick Henry uttered these words.
He and his brethren, all have crumbled
into dust, but the records of that hour
still exist, and they tell us that it
would require an angels pen to picture
the magic of the speakers look, the
deep terrible emphasis of his voice, the
prophet-like reckoning of his hand, the
magnetic flame shooting from his very
heart through the hall. He fell ex-
hausted in his seat, but the work was
lone. A mild murmer rippled through
The hall. Sign. Ha. there is no doubt
now.
! Look. How they rush forward
Stout hearted John Hancock has hard.
ly time to sigh his bold name before
the pen is grasped by another.
Look how their names blaze on the
parchment. Adams and Lee, Jefferson
and Carroll, Roger Sherman, the shoe.
maker, and here comes the good old
stephen Hopkins: yes, trembling with
palsy from head to foot he tottered for.
ward: with his shaking hand he siezes
the pen and scratches his patriotic
name
Then comes Ben Franklin, the prin
ter. And now the parchment is signed
let the word go forth to the people in
the streets. to the homes of America
to the camp of Washington, to the
palace of George, the idiot king: let
the word go out to all the earth.
"And the old man in the steeple, now
bare your arm and let the bell speak
out the great truth. Fifty-six farmers
and mechanics have this day struck at
the shackles of the world.