All language subtitles for A.Great.Awakening.2026.en (1)

Order!

Yes! But at what cost?

I refuse that you--

I would rather submit
to a monarch

than to such a fate.

You cannot admit
to the doctrine, Mr. Martin,

that when these colonies
became independent from Britain,

that they became independent
from each other.

And when this country
declared independence,

we did so not individually,
but unitedly!

I agree.

And I would hope to appease

the interests
of the small states

by assuring them

they would be safer
within the union

than they would to be separated
from it.

Is it to be thought,

Mr. Hamilton,
that the people of America,

so watchful
over their interests,

so jealous of their liberties,

would surrender both their sword
and their purse

to one body of government?

They never will.

They never ought.

So, Mason moves for anarchy.

Better than your
federal tyranny, Hamilton.

Hear, hear.

Order.

The survival of this country

- must be our chief concern.
- Yes!

Yes.

If the British
were to attack again,

and I remind you,
they have six armed forts

west and north of us,

we have no authority to raise
an army to fight.

And even if we did,

we don't have money
to pay the soldiers.

The paper money
commissioned by Congress

and printed by Dr. Franklin
and others

is essentially worthless.

Its best function
is accomplished in the privy.

And why does
the convention's patriarch

remain so tight-lipped?

Hmm?

Ah, yes. Well...

I believe, Mr. Hamilton, that...

he that speaks much

is much mistaken.

Order.

Order.

Benjamin, wait for me!

Benjamin, wait for me!

Papa is gonna be angry.

Papa doesn't need to know.

So don't tell him.

Thank you, my little friend.

Late again.

Wet again.

Sorry, Father.

So, did you make it
across the lake?

Who told you?

One tiny candle
illuminates a thousand.

Janey!

I realize candle making

does not stir
your imagination, Benjamin,

but its service brings light
to darkened households

and warmth to cold souls.

5, 10, 15,

16, 17 candles,

one for each of my children.

You are my tenth son.

Do you know why
that makes you special?

You are my tithe,

separated from your brothers
and sisters

as an offering to the Lord.

This is why I nearly went broke

- sending you to that school.
- I hated it.

Yet you were first
in your class.

God's hand is upon you,
and...

I believe he has called you,

Benjamin Franklin,
to be a preacher.

I don't wanna be a preacher, Pa.

- Preachers are boring.
- Preachers are not boring.

Then why do you fall asleep
at every Sunday meeting?

They give conclusions
with no evidence.

No evidence?

They're halfwits.

Benjamin!

I just don't want to be stuck
behind a pulpit

reading what other people wrote.

I know.

You want to be the one
who does the writing.

Yes.

Your brother James
paid me a visit this morning.

He said he could use your help
at his print shop.

He did?

I'd miss you.

But you have my blessing.

I'm gonna do good things, Pa.
Great things.

I know you will, son.

But in all of your doing good,

don't allow the sun
to set on your faith.

Oh, and you're still my tithe.

My offering to God.

Can't change that.

Order.

Order.

- If I may.
- The chair recognizes

Mr. James Madison
as today's final remarks.

I affirm the sentiments
made earlier,

that if we do not soon
find stability

within this convention,

all our efforts
will be disgraced,

and the liberty
we fought so hard to gain

lost among ourselves
and posterity forever.

Now, I've scoured ancient
governments to exhaustion,

and I find it probable that
we right now are erecting a plan

which will forever decide
the fate

of democratic government
for mankind.

Hear, hear. Hear, hear.

This convention cannot fail,
gentlemen.

Although we have not been
agreeable on much,

I think we can at least agree
on that.

Hear, hear. Hear, hear.

I motion to adjourn.

Second.

Adjourned.

General, I'm curious
of something.

That sun at the top
of your chair,

is it rising or setting?

When my uncle Peyton
presided over

the First Continental Congress,

he used to tell stories
of how they'd gather to pray

as an assembly.

But that was a different time.

Hey, hey,
your money's no good here.

I can't buy bread. Fix it.

Grandfather.

Thank you for your kind service,
gentlemen.

Have I told you
who this young man is?

This is Benjamin Franklin Bache,
Lightning Rod Junior.

- Junior.
- Ah.

Lightning Rod Junior.

Come now, father.

You can be proud of Benny.

He hasn't stopped all day,
even to eat.

Well, I'd rather go to bed
without dinner...

Than to rise in debt.

Says the man who claims
a home is not a home

unless it has food.

Come, Eliza.

I was hoping you'd see
my progress before going home.

Benny,

the print shop is my home.

Well, you made more progress
in one week

than we have in five.

Another fruitful day?

Ah, if one judges a tree
by its fruit,

the convention is a thorn bush
and more painful than my gout.

Your press and typesets
arrived this morning.

Oh.

Well...

I think I've told every story
I could possibly tell with them.

They're yours.

You've already given me so much.

Uh, y-you built me a print shop

in front of your house.

I needed a first line of defense
against unwanted visitors.

Guests, like fish,
begin to smell after a few days.

How long will
this convention last?

However long it takes
13 architects

to build a structure
that stands.

Rhode Island,

whom I shall forever now refer
to as Rogue Island,

is not even present,

but I suppose they're at liberty
not to be.

Everyone seems to be at liberty
to do whatever they want.

A word that once bound us
together

is now being used to divide us.

What happens if it fails?

Then we have failed them.

Another storm rolling in.

Ever since
the Great Boston Fire,

every thunderclap
and distant flash

ignites an inferno of fear.

Soothe or stoke?

I'm sorry?

Well, you sound like a printer

who's just found
his first headline.

Really?

Now, you can soothe them
with something like,

"A supernatural providence
shall rain down from heaven,

quenching the flames and saving
the City of Brotherly Love."

- Or?
- Or...

you can strike fear into them.

"Judgment has come.

Philadelphia is one
lightning strike away

from a pile of ash."

With those letters,
you can do either one.

Both sell papers, Benny.

And which would you choose?

Ah,

fetch me my chest over there.

Of all your pen names,

which ones were soothers
and which ones were stokers?

That depends on who you ask.

Oh, we have Martha Careful,

- uh, Harry Meanwell.
- Mm.

Oh, of course, Poor Richard.

Ah, my old friends.

Ah.

Hmm.

More true now than ever.

Whose are these?

"November 8th, 1739,

The Reverend George Whitefield
has arrived from England

to awaken the colonies."

George Whitefield?

Whitefield.

It's George Whitefield.

Was he soothe or stoke?

Yes.

"From my infancy
'til my being for a time

at the University of Oxford,"
section one.

Why do you have his journals?

He was an old friend.

You were friends
with a preacher?

Is he still alive?

Was he part of the revolution?

Grandfather?

Benny...

George Whitefield
was the revolution.

Oh, what a rogue
and peasant slave am I!

Is it not monstrous
that this player here

but in a fiction,
in a dream of passion...

Leavin' others
to do all the work again.

But this is where Hamlet wishes
he were an actor.

Like you,

hiding behind masks.

I'm a better actor
than all of 'em.

Got your mom convinced anyway.

Smile, Georgie.

Clean it up.

Use your hands!

An actor's gotta use his hands!

Someday,
you'll be up there, son.

He would drown
the stage with tears.

- The play is the thing...
- Someday.

...wherein I'll catch
the conscience of the king!

Oh, what a rogue
and peasant slave am I!

Oh, what a rogue
and peasant slave am I!

Oh, what a rogue
and peasant slave am I!

From here, Georgie.

The power is not here, but here.

Again.

Oh!

No, again.

Oh!

Yes, yes! That's it, Georgie!

Did you feel that?

Yes, I did.

Now, the whole line,
just like that.

Oh, what a rogue
and peasant slave am I!

Tears in his eyes.

Distraction in's aspect.

A broken voice.

His whole function suiting
with forms to his own conceit.

And all for nothing.

Oh, what would he do,

had he the motive and the cue
for passion that I have!

He would drown the stage
with tears.

He would cleave the general ear
with horrid speech.

Make mad the guilty
and appall the free.

Confound the ignorant
and amaze indeed.

The play's the thing

wherein I'll catch
the conscience of the king.

Bravo.

Catch the conscience of the king
and the heart of his mum.

You are good enough
to be on any stage in London.

Uh, not with this eye
and a poor man's accent.

Well, if not the stage,
perhaps the pulpit then.

Mum.

But your voice.

Trapped behind a dusty pulpit
wearing an itchy wig?

- Oh, uh.
- Never.

Actors make people
feel something.

Preachers just put 'em to sleep.

"Oh, God.

Make speed to save us."

"Oh, Lord.
Make haste to help us."

A character actor too, I see.

That's all I'll ever be,
Mr. Burton.

Use it.

Act the truth.

Use everything life
throws at you.

There.

Now I've given you
all my secrets.

This is...

You've written notes
on every page. I...

- I can't take this.
- Consider it mandatory reading

before attending Oxford
this fall.

Elizabeth,

I would give 100 guineas

if I could only say, "O",

as effectively as your son
says, "O".

He is...

extraordinary,

and he needs further training

in diction, interpretation,
rhetoric.

Oxford will provide him
all this and more.

His stepfather ran away
and took everything.

Uh, we could never afford it.

He would go as a servitor

to serve the more, shall I say,
privileged students.

You would receive the same level
of education

provided you look after
their affairs,

carrying their books,
serving them meals.

Clearly, you're no stranger
to such tasks.

All you need is a recommendation
from an Oxford alumnus.

Well, we don't know
an Oxford alumnus.

They're expecting you
for the fall term.

Remember the source
of your power.

When the moment comes,

let 'em have it, George.

O, what a rogue
and peasant slave am I!

What would he do
had he the motive

and the cue for passion
that I have?

How will you get along
without me?

You... were always meant
for bigger stages.

I love you, Mum.

I love you, son.

Already served me, poor chap.

Why don't you move
your good eyeball

to the other side of your face?

Idgit, where's my cake?

All right, lads. That's enough.

No, Seward.

I don't think it is.

Excuse me, Dr. Squintum.

I say, Dr. Squintum!

Now that is perfect.

Gentlemen of the assembly,

I would like to introduce
to you, Dr. Squintum!

Squintum! Squintum!

Squintum! Squintum!

Enough! That's enough!

- Squintum...
- Oh, look, lads.

William fancies himself a hero.

- Oh.
- So, go on, hero, stand up.

Oh, that's right,
you already are.

Oi, Silver Spoon!

Go ahead. Have a go
at the one-eyed servant.

I can take it, but you turn
and eat one of your own?

You lot are nothing
but a nest of spiders.

You got nothing of worth,
except your daddy's money.

He at least has some heart!

Thank you, Dr. Squintum

for that scholarly
and erudite diagnosis.

Are you finished?

I am.

I think me stomach is full.

Oh!

Clean it up.

Oh.

Enjoy.

Oops.

Uh, uh, I've got it.

Don't mess up
your gentleman's clothes.

Silver Spoon.

Nest of spiders.

Fools dressed like princes.

Hmm.

I'm sorry for how they've been
treating you.

Huh, I can't say
I'm not used to it.

Name's William.

Seward.

Dr. Squintum.

Who are they?

The Holy Club.

Bible moths,

but they seem harmless enough.

Just be obliging.
They'll leave soon enough.

- Excuse me.
- Afternoon, gentlemen.

Uh, nothing here for you to do.

Uh, are you the one who polished
our shoes yesterday?

Uh, likely. Yeah.

We wish to return the favor.

My name is John Wesley.

This is my brother, Charles.

God be with you.

You're, uh, a bunch of radicals?

We're Christians.

And if we're radical,
it's in our love for God

and for people.

Oh, uh, what's this?

The Lord whom we serve sees you

and has prompted us
to serve you.

Please sit.

We're all equal in God's eyes,

whether you're a--
a gentleman commoner

or a servitor with cake
on his shoes.

Liberty, all men created equal,

sounds like the cry
of the revolution.

Section one.

Section two.

Dear Mum,
my studies are going well.

My elocution is much improved.

More importantly,

there has been a shift
in my misfortunes.

The kindest group of men
I've ever met

invited me into their society
called, "The Holy Club".

We study the holy scriptures,
pray, meet for worship,

and bring food
and clothing to the poor.

Yesterday,
while visiting with prisoners,

I was strangely warmed.

- Hallelujah. Praise God.
- John...

shouldn't we read
the Bible to them?

We're being the hands
and feet of Christ.

Merciful Jesus...

The hands and feet?

Blessed be His name...

What about his voice?

The Word of God.

I admire your zeal,

but there are hundreds
of prisoners here.

Reading Scripture to each one
would take hours.

Not one at a time, all at once.

All at once?

And how do you suggest
we do that?

From here.

Bless the Lord.

A reading from the Word of God,

the Book of John, naturally.

"Nicodemus, the Pharisee,
came to Jesus at night

and said unto him,

'We know you are a teacher
who comes from God,

but no one could perform
the signs you are doing

unless God was with him.'

Jesus replied,
'Truly I tell you,

no one can see
the Kingdom of God

unless they are born again.'

Nicodemus asked,
"How can this be?

How can someone enter
a second time

into their mother's womb
to be born?'

And Jesus answered,
'Very truly I tell you,

flesh gives birth to flesh,

but the spirit gives birth
to spirit.'"

"You should not be surprised
at my saying,

'You must be born again.'

The wind blows
wherever it pleases.

You hear its sound,

but you cannot tell
where it comes from

or where it is going.

So it is with everyone
born of the Spirit...

For God so loved the world..."

God so loved each of you.

He loved.

"He gave His only Son...

that whosoever
should believe in Him

and call upon His name

should not perish
in their sins...

but have eternal life."

He did not come to condemn us.

He loves us.

He loves us.

Is there any water?

Please, get him some water.

What are you doing, George?

The same thing you did for me.

Do you believe
the words I just read?

Yes.

So do I.

Do you want to know this Jesus?

Yes.

So do I.

I'm not leaving
until all the feet

of every prisoner
have been washed.

G-George, that-that will take--

All day and all night, I know.

You did it for me,
I will do it for them,

alone if I must.

You won't be alone in this work.

It's all right.
Lean into the light.

Mum, can you believe it?

Me.

I don't know whether to laugh
at myself or weep

when I confess that I no longer
wish to be an actor,

but a preacher.

The pulpit will be my stage.

If, as an actor,
I can make fiction believable,

imagine what could happen

if I speak the truth
from my heart.

I have been meditating
upon Psalm 139 every day,

"Lord, search my heart.

See if there is
any offensive way in me

and lead me
in the way everlasting."

I will pray
more than any other.

I will fast
more than any other.

I will make
my Heavenly Father proud.

You will not hear from me
for a while,

as I am entering
into a time of fasting,

a rejection
of all earthly pleasures.

I love you, Mum.

Your God-fearing son, Georgie.

George!

George, you must leave your room
and get some fresh air!

Bathe!

George! You haven't eaten
for nearly a month.

Hm. So much for my first line
of defense.

Uh, General Washington, sir.

Dr. Franklin,
do not stand for my sake.

General, please come inside.

Eliza, gather the dishes.

The storm will arrive
at any moment.

It's already here.

Oh. May I get you
tea or coffee, sir?

No, you are very kind,
but I will not be long.

Good night then.

Young man,

if you wouldn't mind,
I wish for you to stay.

This concerns you.

Yes, sir.

Thank you
for accommodating

my sudden intrusion.

I've just returned
from a brief trip

to an old familiar valley

18 miles from here.

Valley Forge.

It's beautiful
and thriving now.

Ten years ago,

it was our Gethsemane.

Men marching through ice
and snow without shoes,

their path traced by the blood
from their feet.

Without clothes to cover
their nakedness,

without blankets to lie on.

Enduring endless nights,

desperate for the sun to break
over the horizon.

I was certain Valley Forge
would be the darkest valley

we ever walked
through as a nation.

And I was wrong.

Today, we stand
in an even darker valley, Ben.

We planted a tree
that has been watered

by the blood of patriots.

We did not plant it
for ourselves.

We planted it for him,

and his children,
and their children

that they may have shelter
under its branches.

The tree we planted
has hardly grown,

and already each state has taken
an ax to its trunk.

If the disunity
within the states continues,

if this convention fails,

the sacrifice of those men
at Valley Forge,

and so many others,
will be in vain.

Now, Ben,

I greatly admire that
you have been quick to listen

and slow to speak,

but that tree we planted
is about to fall.

This great experiment
needs you, Ben.

I need you.

We cannot let the sun set
on this nation.

Grandfather?

Keep reading.

George! You haven't eaten
for nearly a month!

Lord, search my heart.

See if there is
any offensive way in me.

What has happened to you?

I must crucify my flesh, John.

George!

This is not holiness.

This is madness!

George!

Search me.

Search my heart.

Why isn't this working?

George!

George!

George!

Keep him fed.

He cannot afford to lose
another pound.

Had you not intervened,

he would most certainly
have died.

Thank you, Doctor.

Why did you get in the way?

Because you're killing yourself.

I would rather die

and be in His Holy Presence

than go on living
in this unholy body.

You have been deceived by Satan.

You are feasting on a lie.

I am focusing on God.

You are focusing on yourself.

- How dare you, John.
- How dare you, George!

Insulting the Heavenly Father
in this way!

I am making Him proud of me.

Making Him proud of you?

When Jesus emerged from
the water after He was baptized,

what did His Heavenly Father
say to Him?

Well, go on, you know
the scripture.

"This is my beloved Son."

What else?

"In whom I am well pleased."

"In whom I am well pleased."

Did Jesus perform
any mighty works

before that moment?

Not a single one.

So, why then was His Father
so proud?

Because He was His Son.

Because He loved His child.

Don't you see?

It's not you, it's--
it's Christ in you!

You must either receive it
as a gift

or reject it altogether.

So choose, George.

You are George Whitefield,

in whom the Lord
is well pleased.

Speak from the Word

In lightning speak.

Cry out and thunder
from the Word.

Your great-grandfather owned
a candle shop.

I worked there as a boy.

He used to say...

"One tiny candle
illuminates a thousand."

Hmm. What do you mean?

I mean,

the Church of England
was not ready

for an awakened
Reverend George Whitefield.

Spare thou them, O God,

restore thou those
that are penitent,

that we may live hereafter
a godly and sober life

to the glory of Thy holy name.

O God, make speed to save us.

O Lord, make haste to help us.

Amen.

The congregation has grown
quite large,

presumably in anticipation
of our guest speaker

who has excited many of late

and created not a little
following for himself.

I'm very sorry to see you here,
Mr. Whitefield.

So, without further ado...

So is the devil.

...the Reverend
George Whitefield.

Adjust your wig, Mr. Whitefield.

In 1675,
the Archbishop of Canterbury

became acquainted with
a certain actor of some renown,

Mr. Betterton.

One day, the archbishop said,
"Mr. Betterton, pray, tell me,

how is it that you actors
on the stage

can so move your audiences

whilst speaking of things
imaginary,

while we, in the pulpit,
speak of things real,

which our congregations receive

as if they were
but imaginary things?"

"Why, my lord,"
Mr. Betterton replied,

"The answer is quite plain.

We actors speak of things
imaginary as if they were real,

while you, in the pulpit,

speak of things real
as if they were imaginary."

- [crowd murmurs
- Therefore...

I will not be
a velvet-mouthed preacher.

Do not be deceived!

You may have a religious head

and yet have the devil
in your heart!

Our Lord speaks
the same words to you

as surely as He spoke them
to Nicodemus of old,

"You must be born again!"

Nicodemus, respected, religious,

renowned as righteous,
and still the Master commanded,

"You must be born again!"

Like the church at Sardis,

he had a reputation
for being alive,

and yet was dead inside.

How many of our congregations
are dead,

because they have dead men
preaching to them?

How can dead men beget
living children?

Therefore, Christ says to you,
"Because you are lukewarm,

neither hot nor cold,

I'm about to spit you out
of my mouth!"

Do not trust in your good works
for salvation,

or that your name is written
in the church registry.

I tell you,
there is only one book

where your name must be written,

and that is the Lamb's Book
of Life!

Is your name written there?

- Is it there?
- Yes!

- Do you know?
- Yes!

Stop this!

Come! Come!

Come just as you are to Christ!

For in Him,

there is neither religious
nor irreligious,

slave nor free, male nor female!

All are one in Christ Jesus!

Rebuke
this riotous crowd immediately!

Stop this!

I know not what sorcery

or witchcraft you invoked today,

but it will not be tolerated
in my house of God!

Your house of God?

You are banned from preaching

in His Majesty King George's
church again!

If I cannot preach inside,

then I will go outside
into the streets

and the fields to the orphans,
the slaves, the widows--

And compel them to come
into the house

of the one true king,
Jesus Christ!

It is prohibited
for an Anglican minister

to-- to preach outside
to the ignorant masses!

I will see you defrocked
as an Anglican minister!

Blind guides!

Let the dead preach to the dead.

But I will proclaim freedom
in Christ to all who believe,

and the gates of Hell
will not prevail!

Get out!

Amen. Amen.

Amen.

Yah!

Fastest pulpit on four legs.

Let's try something new.

Hey, now go.

Stop starin', you rat!

What's this?

A priest with a pulpit
but no church?

You come to look down on us,
Priest?

It's for the crowd.

The crowd?

It's for the crowd, he says!

Did you know that Jesus said,

"Let the children come to me,

for theirs is the kingdom
of heaven"?

You're not wanted here.

No, but needed.

I told you to go!

Now, go!

Must I tell you
of the bitter fruit

of the deeds of darkness?

Nay, I think not...

For I see you to be as I was

acquainted with grief,
with lack,

with unrelenting sorrow
in your soul,

ever anxious and fearful
of what may happen.

Longing to be pure...

but hopelessly defiled...

then fly!

Fly, my brothers!

Fly for your lives
to Jesus Christ!

Fly to the bleeding god!

Fly to the throne of mercy

and beg Him,

beg Him to break your heart!

Beg Him to show you your sin!

Beg Him to give you faith
to close with Christ!

For He too,
was a man of sorrows,

acquainted with grief.

Awake, oh sleeper!

Arise from the dead!

Can you hear him calling
as Lazarus did?

Buried deep in the earth!

Darkness all around!

Arise!

Arise!

Come forth!

- What was that?
- Shh.

Listen.

In the beginning,

darkness covered the face
of the deep.

And the voice of the ancient
of days called forth,

"Let there be light!"

And in the fullness of time...

Christ proclaimed
for all the world to know...

"I am the light of life.

If anyone follows me,

he will never walk
in darkness...

but will have
the light of life."

Though your sins
are black as coal...

His blood will wash you
white as snow.

He knows you.

And He loves you.

He won't have me.

He created you.

My-- my children.

My children, forgive me.

Forgive me.

Will you surrender your life
to Christ

as this man has done?

Yes.

Will you trust him?

Yes.

Will you let His blood
seep into your hardened heart

and transform you
from the inside out?

- Yes.
- Will you trust Him?

Yes. Yes. Yes.

- Thank you, Father.
- Thank you, Jesus.

The people embraced him.

The Church of England did not.

And not only did they kick him
out of their parishes,

they kicked him out
of their country.

Well, where did he go?

Arriving from England,
the Reverend George Whitefield

to preach repentance
in New York,

Pennsylvania,

Massachusetts, Rhode Island.

Arriving from England,
the Reverend George Whitefield.

- Sir!
- Not even a good morning,

young lady?

Father, Mr. Franklin,
a reverend named George--

Whitefield, yes,
I am aware of him

and his departure from England
for our colonies.

He's been drawing
tremendous crowds.

- Crowds as large as--
- 25,000.

You know, since my youth,

I have struggled to believe
that a single voice,

say that of an army general,

could be heard by thousands
of his soldiers

without significant aid
in volume amplification.

Yes, sir. Anyway, he--

Now, I am not doubting

Whitefield's skill
as a powerful orator.

I am doubting, however,
the unfounded claim

that he can be heard
and understood by so many.

There's simply not enough data
to support such a claim.

And without evidence,
I won't believe it.

You don't believe the stories
from London are true?

I believe that fish grow larger
as they cross the Atlantic.

Hmm.
But fish tale or not,

religion sells papers.

And printers all over
the colonies, myself included,

have already made a profit
from this English preacher.

So we shall see how long
the Pennsylvania Gazette

can ride the Whitefield wave.

What is the matter
with the three of you?

Reverend Whitefield is...
is here.

Here? As in?

- Philadelphia, sir.
- When?

Now.

Well, why didn't you say so,
girl?

Make way!

Excuse me.

Please, sir.

What is that balcony
right there?

Uh, the courthouse.

That's the place.
Thank you, sir.

God be with you.

I guess we're about to find out
how big this fish really is.

The spirit of the Lord is here,
George.

Their hearts are ready.

Are you?

Father, tear down the name
of Whitefield

if it means Your name remains.

Amen.

Amen.

That's him!

Welcome to Philadelphia,
Reverend!

Bless you, Reverend!

The spirit of the Lord
is upon me!

For He has anointed me to preach
the gospel to the poor!

To proclaim freedom
to the captives!

And to set at liberty
those who are oppressed!

City of brotherly love,
the words of Christ, our Savior,

ring out to you this day!

Whom the Son sets free
is free indeed.

Dear God.

Why does Christ set free?

Why does He bring new life?

Because without Him,

you're a condemned prisoner
of your sin.

Market Street.

100 feet by 260 per block.

Plus, 40 feet
on the side streets

around to the wharf.

Let's see.

Agh! A printer
without paper and ink.

Excuse me. Pardon me.

Pardon me. Excuse me.

Where's my graphite stick?

Blast it, Joseph, have you seen
my graphite stick?

...the old has come, behold!

Old things have become new.

Have you ever heard
a voice like that?

How many souls
are kept from Christ

for fear of reproach?
Of being marked with...

Like a trumpet blast
from Heaven.

We have a living hope within us.

And yet we fear to proclaim
that which we know is true!

Are we in truth
ashamed of Christ?

This is it, Mr. Franklin. Yes.

A real experiment.

Discredit...

Either a rumor...

or fact.

Yes.

I ask you, ye men of letters,

whether your great Lycurgus
or Solon,

Pythagoras or Plato,
Aristotle, Seneca, Cicero,

all the heathen moralists
combined

ever produced a system of ethics
any way comparable

with so long-lasting,
so widespread in effect

as the shining wisdom
given by the one they call

Jesus of Nazareth.

Divided by four,
plus another five...

Yeah, 6,000.

How many, Mr. Franklin?

According to my calculations,

his voice can be heard
by 30,000.

You say 30,000?

Philadelphia only has--

20,000 residents.

What if there be mysteries
in His religion?

Are they not mysteries
of godliness?

Are they not worthy of the God
who reveals them?

Is it not the greatest mystery
that men who pretend to reason

and search into the very science
of nature itself,

and consequently find a mystery
in every blade of grass,

should then be so irrational
as to decry

all mysteries in religion?

Where is the scribe?

Where is the wise?

Where among you is the disputer

against
the Christian revelation?

I ask you.

Does not everything without
and within us conspire to prove

their divine origin?

Was Christ Himself not styled
the Word of God?

The fear of Him is the beginning
of knowledge.

It's not a fish tale,
Mr. Franklin.

Do not let the flat, lifeless,
stained-glass reverence you see

keep you a cool distance
from His fiery heart!

For it is the kindness
of the Lord

that leads us to repentance.

And what does it mean to repent,
but to turn another way?

What way shall we turn in naught
but darkness?

What way shall we turn

if not toward
the inextinguishable light

of the risen Son?

Who, though we reject Him,
still pursues us all our days.

Oh! Does not your dead heart
quicken to life at the thought

that you were fashioned
for such purpose,

and have yet a part to play
in the unfolding kingdom of God?

Stand therefore, brethren,

in the liberty wherewith Christ
hath made you free.

Be not entangled under the yoke
of the bondage of sin.

I commend you now all to Christ
in His infinite mercy,

to whom, with the Father
and the Spirit,

be all glory, all honor,
all power,

now and forevermore!

Amen!

- Amen!
- Amen!

Amen!

Amen!

Amen!

Awake, oh sleeper!

The sun has risen.

- Please, Reverend.
- Excuse me.
Pardon me.

Please, excuse me.

Please, excuse me. Pardon me.

Thank you.

- Excuse me, sir! It's me!
- Thank you for the help

but as you can see,
I have no time to speak.

Is it possible to have a word
with the Reverend?

- Not now.
- Uh, perhaps tonight?

Mr. Whitefield is engaged

to minister and preach
well into the evening.

- I'm sorry.
- Oh, Mr. Franklin.

Looks like Whitefield gave you
tomorrow's headline.

- Are you... Benjamin Franklin?
- I am.

Proprietor of
the Pennsylvania Gazette?

- Yes.
- William Seward.

- Oh.
- Mr. Whitefield was hoping

to meet with you.
This must be providence.

- Ah. Or coincidence.
- It'll be late,

but we could visit you
at your shop when he's through.

Uh, yes. Very good.

- Thank you.
- Thank you.

God bless you, Mr. Franklin.

Please, Reverend, please.

All right.

The whole world has gone
religious, Joseph.

Yes, sir.

Well... tomorrow's Gazette
shall read...

"November 8th, 1739."

"The Reverend George Whitefield
has arrived from England...

to awaken the Colonies."

You both may retire
for the night.

Thank you for your endurance.

And what about you, sir?

Oh, I will plow deep
while sluggards sleep,

so I will have corn to sell
and to keep.

Of course.

Sweet pea, wake up.

We must get going.

Mr. Franklin?

Hmm?

What did you make of Reverend
Whitefield's message today?

Oh.

I plan to make a lot from it.

Good night, sir.

Good night.

Good night, Joseph.

Good evening. I'm looking for
a Mr. Benjamin Franklin.

Uh... y-yes, please.

What is your name?

- I'm Samuel.
- Samuel?

That's a strong name.

Who is this?

Samantha, sir.

Samantha, you are a great
blessing to your father.

God bless you both.

- Night.
- Good evening.

Excuse me, sir,
what is your name?

Me?

Joseph.

Joseph.

That too, is a strong name.

Suits you.

The Lord whom I serve sees you.

Mr. Franklin.

Reverend Whitefield.

Please, call me, "George".

It is an honor
to finally meet you.

Your reputation precedes you
in England.

Oh?

Which one?

Many there regard
your Poor Richard's Almanack

as one of the lost books
of the Bible.

Ah, you flatter me.

But a man wrapped up in himself
makes a very small bundle.

Indeed.

Do you belong to a local parish?

I am a friend to every church,
but a member of none.

I see.

Yes.

- Hmm.
- Hmm.

You will have to wait
until morning.

Hmm.

Do you mind if I...

- Mm.
- Ah. Ah!

Thank you.

I am interested
in working with you.

Oh, please, proceed.

The Pennsylvania Gazette
is the leading newspaper

in His Majesty's 13 colonies.

It would be extremely effective

in communicating
your whereabouts

to ensure the largest crowds
possible.

And with it,
the largest possible offerings.

Well, that is
very thoughtful of you.

I am endeavoring to raise funds
for an orphanage in Georgia.

I'm sure you are.

Partnering with me would
guarantee the maximum benefit

to your cause,

and mine.

A match made in Heaven.

Or just a deal made
in a print shop.

Now, as business partners,

whenever you're in my city
and you need lodging,

my home will be made
available to you.

That is a very kind offer
for the sake of Christ.

Well, it's not for
Christ's sake, it's for yours.

Shall we dunk the papers then?

Tonight?

Wasn't it Poor Richard who said

"One today is worth
two tomorrows"?

Yes, I know
what Poor Richard said.

All right, let's get on with it.

I want to start
by publishing this.

Hmm. "To the inhabitants
of Maryland, Virginia,

North and South Carolina,

God has a quarrel
to pick with you

for your abuse of
and cruelty to slaves...

and for keeping the Gospel
from them."

You are lighting a powder keg,
my friend.

I did not cross the Atlantic
to tickle ears, Mr. Franklin.

Hmm, huh...

- Soothe or stoke.
- I'm sorry?

Soothe or stoke the hearts
of the people.

Both sell papers
and save souls apparently.

Well, let's get started.

You were business partners.

And I sold a lot of these.

"Whitefield preaches to 17,000

in Providence, Rhode Island--"

Rogue Island.

"And 30,000 in Boston."

Look at the date.

These were on the same day.

But Pro-- Providence
and Boston are 50 miles apart.

He spent more time on a horse
than on the ground...

and he preached and prayed
more than he slept.

Ah... I have to admit,
in the beginning,

I did not believe that level
of response could be maintained.

Well, was it?

No.

It increased.

Reverend George Whitefield
to preach repentance

in Rhode Island, Massachusetts.

Let there be
no divisions in the church.

But rather be of one mind,
united in thought and purpose.

Yes.

Therefore, let us not be asleep,
but awake.

- Yes.
- And sober minded,

because we belong to the day.

Let us be dressed
in the raiment of light.

Yes! Amen.

Nathan! Nathan!

Reverend Whitefield preached
at Hartford yesterday.

And he's to preach at Middletown
this morning at 10:00.

Molly.

- Nathan?
- Molly.

Molly, Reverend Whitefield.

And on his head are many crowns.

On his head are many crowns.

Lord, speak through me.

Draw them with Your Word.

Let them hear Your voice.

Set them on a path from which
they will never depart.

Though You are a God
of justice,

show them that Your heart
resounds with mercy.

Show them the kindness
that You have always shown me.

As I speak from the word
like lightning speak,

cry out in thunder
from the word.

He has a name written on Him

that no one knows
but He Himself,

and His name is the word of God!

Use me, Lord,

whatever the cost.

Let them receive
your gift of salvation,

and set us free.

"And I saw that my righteousness

would not save me.

Nathan Cole.
October 23rd, 1740."

Nearly 13 years ago,
and the reports remain the same.

Mr. Nathan Cole would never have
experienced the new birth

if you had not published
my whereabouts.

Well, poor Richard
would still be poor

had I not published
your whereabouts.

I see the church has, uh,
greeted you warmly today.

My dear friend, John Wesley,
once said,

"You must be willing to preach,
pray or die at any moment."

He forgot to tell you
to also duck and dodge.

We lost Seward.

I'm sorry.

He was preaching
in South Wales...

when an angry mob
began to throw stones.

He died three days later.

In his final letter to me,
he said...

"Fear not, George...

we are immortal until our work
on earth is done."

What compels one back
into angry mobs?

The same thing that compelled
Christ onto a cross of wood.

When you follow Him,

you are led by love...

no matter the cost.

Those who follow dead religion
are led by a desire to be right.

Eventually, they will
throw stones

at those they believe are wrong.

I grow weary in the work, Ben,
but never of the work.

And like you...

I would rather wear out
than rust out.

Seward also said that
I should give you these...

my personal journals.

He said you should publish them,

that many would see
the goodness of God.

I needed a new press
just to publish your sermons.

Well, I suppose
you'd better get a third.

My...

Your print shop has become
a rather strange laboratory

since my last visit.

Yes, His Majesty's Royal Society

has taken special interest
in my research

on the mysteries
of electric fire.

- And what about you, Ben?
- Hmm?

What is your source?

My source?

What compels you?

Aha, I thought you'd never ask.

Follow me.

I fail to see what is
so humorous.

Uh, it's a virtue chart.

- You actually use this?
- Oh, dear.

He's showing him the chart.

Good evening, Mrs. Franklin.

Allow me to expound.

First, on a small card,
I write the virtue

I am to focus on for the week.

- Currently, it's humility.
- Which he just added,

because he bragged about
the first 12.

"Imitate Jesus and Socrates."

I refer to it frequently,

and then I replace it
with a new virtue every week

for 13 weeks,

so that the series is repeated
four times a year.

Then I assess how I'm doing
on the chart.

Our assessments
do not always align.

Well, whatever achievements
I have made,

I credit to the ethical,
intellectual,

and physical discipline
of these virtues.

Upon them, I founded
the most successful newspaper

in the colonies,

the first public library,
firehouse,

and Philadelphia's
first hospital.

Says the man who states, "He
who falls in love with himself

will have no rivals."

I say this
not to boast, Deborah,

but to prove the merit
of my system.

Had someone else taken up
this discipline,

it might be their name
on the Franklin stove.

- Hmm.
- Lightning rod, swim fins,

- and the flexible catheter.
- Benjamin Franklin.

I think the flexible catheter

will be
your highest achievement.

- Ah.
- What's a catheter?

Never mind.

It is the zeal
for improvement in self,

society, and science
that drove me to prove

that storms can move
in an opposite direction

than the direction
from the wind.

And of course,
you invented the wind.

Absolutely, I did.
I needed to fly my kites.

Oh!

Oh, well, he is certainly
responsible

for all of the hot air
blowing through here.

Hear, hear.

Good night, George.

Good night, Mr. Whitefield.

Good night, Sally,
Mrs. Franklin.

Good night, Father.

Good night.

Oh, no. You're doing it again.

- What?
- There, stop that.

Are you mocking my bad eye, Ben?

No, not the blasted eye.

That look.

You got some pseudo spiritual
gaze upon me.

I tried this, Ben,
and it nearly killed me.

It's the same religious spirit
that leads men to throw stones.

You must be born again.

I trust my good works
from a good heart

will go before me.

Getting to heaven
on your own strength.

You might as well climb
to the moon on a rope of sand.

I have too much to do on earth
to worry about the moon.

Even if I were to experience
this new birth

you so often speak of,

I would never give you
or anyone else

the satisfaction of knowing it.

Let's go.

- I'm sorry?
- Grab your coat.

I want to show you something.

Now?
You can't be serious.

Do not squander time,
Georgie.

It's the stuff life is made of.

- All right.
- I'm going to need this, and...

- What is that?
- Huh?

Okay.

Why are they ringing
church bells?

Superstition.

They believe it will appease God

so his wrath won't strike
and burn their homes.

That's not scriptural.

Finally, somebody who agrees
with me.

These are perfect conditions.

Is madness one of your virtues?

When the thunder clouds
come over the kite,

this pointed wire will draw
the electric fire from them.

The kite, and all of the twine,

will become electrified.

Then the loose filaments
of the twine

will stand up every way

and be attracted
by an approaching finger.

Oh, thank you, my little friend.

Haha!

When the moisture has wet
the kite and twine,

so that it conducts
the electric fire freely,

you will find it stream out
plentifully from the key

on the approach of your knuckle.

Here, try it.

No, I'd-I'd rather not.

I've done this
many times before.

It works.

It-- Precisely.

First time, I had my son William
hold the line.

Boom! The lightning struck
and surged through his hands.

He shook like a leaf.

It was incredible.

He's never helped me since.

I should think not.

That's when I learned,

I needed to ground the line
to disperse the power.

So... I invented
my lightning rod.

You're an amazing man, Ben.

Wait, do you feel that?

Feel what?

Ah!

Touch the Leyden jar to the key.

No, I don't think so.

Ah, here.

Yes.

Fire from heaven.

You are the lightning bolt,
George.

I am just the lightning rod.

And who is the source, Ben?

I see what you did there.

Very clever, Reverend.

Very clever.

Confirmation!

Evacuation!

We need to leave now!

April 21st, 1770.

My dear friend,
Dr. Benjamin Franklin,

I have embarked upon my seventh
pilgrimage to the colonies.

And although difficult,

Christ's presence allows me
to smile through pain,

and the fire of His love
burns up all fevers whatsoever.

I was sorry to have missed

the christening
of your city bell,

proclaiming God's liberty
throughout all the land.

The people of America seem more
eager after the Word than ever.

May their voices ring
in harmony with that bell.

I find you grow more
and more famous

in the learned world.

As you have made
considerable progress

in the mysteries
of electricity,

I now humbly recommend

the study of the mystery
of the new birth,

for without it,

we cannot enter
the kingdom of heaven.

You will be pleased to know

I have raised
700 pounds sterling

for my orphanage in Georgia.

I hope to grow rich in heaven

by taking care of the orphans
on earth.

I subscribe myself, dear sir,
your very affectionate friend

and obliged servant,
George Whitefield.

"Proclaim liberty
throughout all the land...

unto all
the inhabitants thereof."

What a glorious verse
to ring out

over the city of brotherly love.

Hmm?

Oh, yes. Well,

apparently,
the inhabitants thereof

are ringing just as loudly
in the ears of our king.

Parliament would like
to influence

our definition of liberty,

and because I am fully
acquainted with the temper

and disposition of the colonies,

the Continental Congress
has chosen me

to act on their behalf.

I sail for London
the day after tomorrow.

Blood will be shed
for that liberty,

whereas blood was already shed

for the liberty proclaimed
by that bell.

You will have my prayers.

Prayers?

An appeal to a distant God
cannot resolve these issues.

It's going to take a lot more
than prayer, I'm afraid.

So that's it then?

A distant God

uninvolved
in the affairs of man?

No, I'm quite certain
he was never involved

in my affairs.

Does my confession shock you?

No.

Your idea of virtue does.

I beg your pardon?

What do you make
of Jesus Christ?

I made a lot from Him.

And how long
will you hide behind your wit

and make light of the truth?

Not again. Not now.

Ben, our time grows short.

There is a Judgment Day coming

when all will stand
before the Lord,

and only faith in Jesus Christ,

not your wit, will save you.

Your frequent wishes
for my eternal happiness

- are very obliging but--
- It is your life,

Benjamin Franklin,

your eternal life at stake

that keeps me begging you
to consider the truth

of the gospel.

I choose evidence over faith.

Evidence?

How much more do you need?

For 30 years now,

you have promoted
the greatest awakening

these colonies have ever seen.

That wasn't me or the Wesleys
or Jonathan Edwards.

It was an intervention
by our most powerful friend.

I have never attempted
to change you,

and I would greatly
appreciate it

if you would stop trying
to change me.

I don't understand
how thousands of strangers

can melt at the sound
of this truth,

but you, my dearest friend,
why can't I get through to you?

Because I've heard it all before

and I've seen it all before,
George.

Born the 10th son
of a Puritan father,

set apart as his holy tithe
in service to the church.

He wanted me to be a preacher.

Me!

But never in 50 lifetimes
would I ever have anything to do

with my father's overbearing,
hypocritical clergy,

who spent so much
of their time praying

and very little time doing good.

As a devout and thorough deist,

I have done more good to better
the lives of this city

than all the collective clergy
combined.

I do believe in a deity,

but I believe He has given us
rights, resources,

and reason to do good,

and now He waits
and watches to see if we will.

It's not enough to do good, Ben.

It's not enough
to believe in God.

Even the devil believes in God.

Everything,
everything comes down

to what you make
of Jesus Christ.

Tell me,

what have I lacked by not
experiencing this new birth?

Hmm?

Living my life on the back
of a horse,

being pelted with rocks,
dung, and dead animals.

Sleeping on the ground

or a stranger's floor
every night,

being led into the hands
of an angry mob

and an early grave?

You have no money, no family,
failing health,

your failing orphanage.

My orphanage
is no longer failing

by the grace of God.

By the grace of God
or by resorting to slave labor

to keep it running?

It was the only way.

Those orphans would have
become homeless

if we had not intervened--

Is that providence?

Is that God being involved
in the affairs of man?

You've made that orphanage
an idol

and a stain on your name.

Oh, the irony,
proclaiming liberty

while standing on the backs
of slaves.

Then tear down the name
of Whitefield

if it means
the name of Christ remains.

Do not base your faith
upon my flawed life.

Do not base your faith

upon the cold religion
of your father.

Base it upon what He has done
on a cross of wood.

George?

Georgie, what?

Georgie.

They're waiting for me.

You are more fit to go to bed
than to preach.

I must preach.

A dying man...

to dying men.

Georgie.

Do not base your faith
upon my flawed life.

Do not base your faith

upon the cold religion
of your father.

Base it upon what He has done
on a cross of wood.

No!

It is the great and terrible

Reverend George Preachfield!

Admiral Howe,

you do not know the heart
of these people.

They are a sturdy,
independently-minded kind.

Moral, self-governing,
they have been awakened.

Awakened?

How?

They believe
that once they dealt

with the tyrant
within themselves,

they now have eyes to see
the tyrant across the sea.

Oh, do they?

Oh, so they found it necessary
to send you

to rebuke this tyrant
across the sea?

I would have thought
your sturdy colonists

would have at least equipped you
with a shovel or a tomahawk

to face such a tyrant.

Perhaps a sling
and a few smooth stones

are all that is necessary.

Do you know how many men
are on just one of my ships?

800.

My Royal Navy
has over 250 ships.

And you're a man
of calculations.

You're going to need more
than a few smooth stones,

Dr. Franklin.

There is no need
to escalate this to a war.

Oh, I don't know.

Make for a wonderful story
for your little newspaper.

Farmers with slings and stones

versus the most powerful army
on earth.

It would be a good little war.

Short-lived, but...
exhilarating.

There never was a good war,
nor a bad peace.

Then may I suggest you refrain
from threats

you're not able to fulfill?

We have petitioned the King
exhaustively.

We've appealed to the royal
governors within the colonies,

to no avail.

We have sought participation
in trade agreements,

taxation, and governance,

without even a response
from His Majesty.

Well, the King has
far greater concerns

than distant dirt workers
crying for attention.

Admiral Howe, across that ocean,

an entire generation
of Americans

have been awakened to believe

that liberty is not a gift
given to them by a king,

but a right given to them
by God.

God?

Hm.

Well, perhaps if I match

your surprisingly
religious tone,

you might understand.

When the prodigal son received
his inheritance prematurely,

he too thought he could handle
his newly found freedom.

He was shamefully deluded.

He squandered it
and came crawling back to Daddy

with empty hands
and an empty belly.

You Americans
are exactly the same.

Utterly incapable
of handling freedom.

A virtuous people
can handle freedom.

Oh, and you, as model citizen.

Would Mrs. Franklin find you

and last night's
theater guest virtuous?

Oh, Dr. Franklin,

need I remind you
that for over a century,

our kings have emptied
their poorhouses

and drained the vagrants
from our streets

by sending them
to your colonies?

And now you think
these indentured servants

can be self-governed?

You know you are not
on the same level

as these rats you represent.

British society is greatly
enamored by you

and think you
delightfully entertaining.

If you would simply drop

this notion
of independent government,

you'd be greatly rewarded
by the King.

I cannot be bought.

You would die on the vine
without us!

Pardon
the interruption, Admiral.

I have just been informed
of news from the colonies.

Hmm, they're requesting more
shovels, plows, and stones?

The Reverend George Whitefield
has died...

...in Newburyport,
Massachusetts.

Being a friend of England
and her colonies,

the consulate thought
you both should know.

Is that all?

Yes, sir.

Speaking of dying on the vine,

and rather young, wasn't he?

Did you know him?

Well,

your colonies had
their awakening, Dr. Franklin.

Now, it's time they have
their reckoning.

Checkmate.

Where are you going?

Grandfather, what are you doing?

The storm is here!

This is unsafe!

Grandfather, put this on!

Grandfather!

And who is the source, Ben?

Dunk the papers, Benny.

I have something to say.

Grandfather,

care to do the honors?

Grandfather...

why didn't you
tell me this before...

t-the story of Whitefield?

I...

I didn't think I needed to.

You needed to.

One tiny candle
illuminates a thousand.

Order!

Order!

Proceed, Mr. Read.

The states formed
this confederation in 1776

on equal terms.

The states being equal,

must have equal influence
and equal votes.

- Aye!
- If...

if this convention grants
large states more votes

than the small,

the large states
will naturally combine

and form a tyranny
over the smaller states.

- Hear, hear!
- Nowhere

in the history of men or nations

has such a thing occurred,
Mr. Read.

Carthage and Rome
tore one another to pieces

instead of uniting their forces
to devour the weaker nations

of the earth.

Sparta, Athens, and Thebes

never combined to oppress
their neighbors.

Instead they were rivals,
and fought each other.

Anarchy and discord await us

if we fail to unite
under a central authority.

When men or nations
are strong and equal,

they become rivals.

Jealousy prevents their union.

This convention
might as well go on then

and dissolve the union now.

How dare you?

If partial confederates
take place,

then the present plan
on the table, Mr. Madison.

Order.

Order.

This chair recognizes

Dr. Benjamin Franklin.

Mr. President,

the small progress we have made

after four or five weeks'
close attendance

and continual reasonings
with each other,

our different sentiments
on almost every question,

several of the last producing
as many nos as ayes,

is methinks a melancholy proof

of the imperfection
of the human understanding.

We indeed seem
to feel our own want

of political wisdom,

since we've been running about
in search of it.

We have gone back
to ancient history

for models of government.

And having examined those forms
of those republics,

which having been formed

with the seeds
of their own disillusion,

now no longer exist.

We have viewed modern states
all around Europe,

but find none
of their constitutions

suitable to our circumstances.

In this situation
of this assembly,

groping as it were in the dark
for political truth

and scarce able
to distinguish it

when presented to us,

how has it happened, sir,

that we have not hitherto
once thought

of humbly applying
to the Father of Lights

to illuminate
our understandings?

In the beginning of the contest
with Great Britain,

when we were sensible of danger,

we had daily prayer in this room

for the divine protection.

Our prayers, sir, were heard,

and they were graciously
answered.

All of us who were engaged
in the struggle

must have observed
frequent instances

of a superintending providence
in our favor.

To that kind providence,

we owe this happy opportunity
of consulting in peace

on the means of establishing
our future national felicity.

And have we now forgotten

that powerful friend?

Or do we imagine that we
no longer need his assistance?

I have lived, sir, a long time.

And the longer I live,

the more convincing proofs
I have seen of this truth,

that God governs
in the affairs of man.

And if a sparrow cannot fall
without his notice,

is it probable that an empire
can rise without his aid?

We have been assured, sir,
in the sacred Scriptures

that unless the Lord
built the house,

they labor in vain
that build it.

I firmly believe this.

And I also believe
that without his concurring aid,

we shall succeed
in this political building

no better than
the builders of Babel.

We shall be divided by our
little partial local interest,

our projects
shall be confounded,

and we ourselves shall become
a reproach and a byword

down to future age.

And what is worse,

mankind may hereafter these
unfortunate instances,

despair of establishing
governments on human wisdom

and leave it to chance, war,
and conquest.

I, therefore, beg leave to move

that henceforth prayers

imploring the assistance
of Heaven

and its blessings
on our deliberations

be held in this assembly
every morning

before we proceed to business

and that one or more
of the clergy of this city

be requested to officiate
in that service.

However proper such a resolution
might have been

at the beginning
of the convention,

it might at this late day lead
the public to believe

that the embarrassments
of disunity

and dissensions
within the convention

have suggested this measure.

It would make us look weak.

And the true cause
of the omission

of clergy-led prayer
must not be mistaken.

This convention has no funds
to pay a clergyman.

I propose, in order to give

a favorable aspect
to this measure,

that a sermon be preached
at the request of the convention

on 4th of July

and henceforward

prayers be offered
in this convention

every morning.

Second.

Shall we take a vote?

I request a postponement
due to adjournment.

Second.

Dr. Franklin's recommendation

and Mr. Randolph's motion
for daily prayer

is postponed due to adjournment.

I, for one, will be
in attendance on July the 4th,

observing a day of prayer.

I would welcome

any and all of you

to join me.

Adjourned.

The Father of Lights
says in His Word,

"For you who honor my name,

the sun of righteousness
will rise

with healing in its wings."

My friends,

do you want to be free?

Liberty is found in Him alone.

Do you want to live?

He alone gives eternal life.

Because of the tender mercy
of our God,

the rising sun will come to us
from heaven

to shine on those living
in darkness.

I beseech you,
do not reject so great a gift.

A great awakening has come.

Arise, O sleeper!

Awaken!