In March 1775 he was a member of the Virginia Convention that convened at Richmond, where he proposed resolutions to adopt immediate measures of defence sufficient to repel any invasion by the mother country. In these he was strongly opposed by several influential members who were still disposed to cringe to royal power. Reeking with wrongs and insolence as it was, he held that power in utter contempt. His dauntless soul soared above the trappings of a crown backed by bayonets and sought for rest only in the goal of freedom. The following extract from his speech on that thrilling occasion will best convey the tone of his emotions—deeply felt and strongly told. His overwhelming eloquence we can but faintly imagine.
"Mr. President—It is natural for man to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth and listen to the songs 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 that 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 provide for it. I have but one lamp to guide my feet and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging the future but 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 are pleased to solace themselves and the House? Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has lately been received? Trust it not sir—it will prove a snare to your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed by a kiss. Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of your petition comports with those warlike preparations that 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 mortal 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 that have not already been exhausted? Let us not, I beseech you sir, deceive ourselves longer. Sir, we have done everything that could be done to avert the storm that is 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 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 the God of Hosts is all that is left us. It is 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 comes from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms. Our brethren are already in the field. What is it gentlemen wish? What would they have? Why stand we here idle? Is life so dear and 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 Death!!!" See the resolutions to which he thus spoke in the life of Nelson.
The effect of this speech was electrical. It insulated nearly every heart with the liquid fire of patriotism. The cry to arms—Liberty or death resounded from every quarter, rang through every ear and was responded by every patriot. The resolutions were seconded by Richard Henry Lee and adopted without further opposition and a committee appointed to carry them into effect. From that time the Old Dominion was renewed, regenerated and free. Her noble sons rushed to the rescue and cheerfully poured out their blood and treasure in the cause of rational liberty. Soon after, the convention adjourned to August. About that time Lord Dunmore removed a quantity of powder from the magazine at Williamsburg on board the armed ship to which he had retreated. On learning this fact Mr. Henry collected a military force and demanded the restoration of the specific article or its equivalent in money. The needful was paid and no claret drawn. A royal proclamation was issued against these daring rebels which united the people more strongly in favor of their orator and soldiers whose conduct they sanctioned in several public meetings.
In August when the Convention met Mr. Henry was again elected to the Continental Congress and remained one of the boldest champions of right and justice. In June 1776 he was elected governor of his native state. He served faithfully for two years and although unanimously re-elected declined serving longer. In 1780 he was a member of the legislature of his state and manifested an unabating zeal in the cause he had nobly espoused and essentially advanced. In 1788 he was a member of the Virginia Convention convened to consider the Federal Constitution. To that instrument he was strongly opposed because he believed it consolidated the states into one government destroying the sovereignty of each. His eloquence on that occasion is believed to have reached its zenith for the first time. His closing speech surpassed all former efforts and operated so powerfully that only a small majority voted for the adoption of the Constitution. During his remarks an incident occurred that enabled him almost to paralyze his audience. After describing the magnitude of the measure on which hung the happiness or misery of the present generation and millions yet unborn—with a voice and countenance solemn as the tomb—his eyes raised upward, he appealed to the God of Heaven and to angels then hovering over them to witness the thrilling scene and invoked their aid in the mighty work before him. At that moment a sudden thunder storm commenced its fury and shook the very earth. Upon the roar of the tempest his stentorian voice continued to rise—he figuratively seized the artillery of the elements as by supernatural power—enveloped his opponents in a blaze of liquid lightning—hurled the crashing thunderbolts at their heads and seemed commissioned by the great Jehovah to execute a deed of vengeance. The scene was fearfully sublime—the effect tremendous. The purple current rushed back upon the aching heart—every countenance was pale, every eye was fixed, every muscle electrified, every vein contracted, every mind agonized—the sensation became insupportable—the members rushed from their seats in confusion and left the room without a formal adjournment.
Mr. Henry remained in the legislature of his state until 1791 when he retired from public life. He had toiled long, faithfully and successfully for his country and his state. He anxiously desired and sought that felicity and repose found only in the family circle. In 1795 his revered friend, President Washington, tendered him the important office of Secretary of State. With a deep feeling of gratitude he declined the proffered honor. In 1794 he was again elected governor of Virginia but was in too poor health to serve. In 1799 President Adams appointed him Envoy to France in conjunction with Messrs. Murray and Ellsworth. His rapidly declining health would not permit him to accept this last of his appointments. Disease was fast consummating the work of death and consuming the iron constitution and athletic frame that had enabled him to perform his duty so nobly during the toils of the Revolution. He was sensible that the work of dissolution was nearly completed and looked to his final exit with calm submission and Christian fortitude. On the 6th of June 1799 he bowed to the only monarch that could conquer him—the death king. With a full assurance of a crown of unfading glory in Heaven he threw off the mortal coil and was numbered with the dead. His loss was deeply mourned by the American nation and most strongly felt by those who knew him best. The following affectionate tribute is from one who knew him well.
"Mourn, Virginia, mourn! your Henry is gone. Ye friends to liberty in every clime drop a tear. No more will his social feelings spread delight through his house. No more will his edifying example dictate to his numerous offsprings the sweetness of virtue and the majesty of patriotism. No more will his sage advice, guided by zeal for the common happiness, impart light and utility to his caressing neighbors. No more will he illuminate the public councils with sentiments drawn from the cabinet of his own mind ever directed to his country's good and clothed in eloquence sublime, delightful and commanding. Farewell—first rate patriot—farewell! As long as our rivers flow or mountains stand—so long will your excellence and worth be the theme of our homage and endearment and Virginia, bearing in mind her loss, will say to rising generations—imitate my Henry!"
In tracing the character of this great and good man his examples in public and private life are found worthy of imitation. As by magic he threw off the cumbrous mass that so long confined his mighty genius and at once became a gigantic and brilliant intellectual man. Nature had so moulded him that the ordinary concerns of life never roused him. Had not the momentous subject of freedom engaged the mind of this bold and noble patriot he might have closed his career with its strongest powers unspent and left his loftiest talents to expire beneath the surface of the quarry from which they sublimely rose in peerless majesty. It required occasions of deep and thrilling interest to bring his latent energies into action. The exciting causes of the revolution were exactly calculated to bring him out in all the grandeur of his native greatness. As an advocate, orator, patriot and statesman—he was the colossus of his time. As Grattan said of Pitt—there was something in Patrick Henry that could create, subvert or reform—an understanding, a spirit, an eloquence to summon mankind to society or break the bonds of slavery asunder and rule the wilderness of free minds with unbounded authority—something that could establish or overwhelm empires and strike a blow in the world that should resound through the universe. He maintained his opinions with great zeal but held himself open to conviction of error. When under discussion he opposed the Federal Constitution but subsequently approved its form and substance.
His private character was as pure as his public career was glorious. He was twice married and the father of fifteen children. As a husband, father, friend, citizen and neighbor he had no superior. The closing paragraph of his will is worthy of record, showing a profound veneration for religion. "I have now disposed of all my property to my family. There is one thing more I wish I could give them and that is the Christian religion. If they had this and I had not given them one shilling they would be rich and if they had not that and I had given them all the world they would be poor."
Coming from one of the clearest minds that ever investigated the truths of revelation this short paragraph speaks volumes in favour of that religion which is despised by some—neglected by millions and is the one thing needful to prepare us for a blissful immortality beyond the confines of the whirling planet on which we live, move and have a transient being. Ponder it well, dear reader and govern yourself accordingly.