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Coleridge, Stephen

"The Glory of English Prose Letters to My Grandson"

Tell me, for you
were there. I appeal to the gallant soldier before me, from whose
opinions I differ, but who bears, I know, a generous heart in an
intrepid breast; tell me, for you must needs remember, on that day
when the destinies of mankind were trembling in the balance, while
death fell in showers upon them, when the artillery of France,
levelled with a precision of the most deadly science, played upon
them, when her legions, incited by the voice and inspired by the
example of their mighty leader, rushed again and again to the
onset--tell me if for one instant, when to hesitate for one
instant was to be lost, the 'aliens' blenched!
"And when at length the moment for the last and decisive movement
had arrived, and the valour which had so long been wisely cheeked
was at length let loose, tell me if Ireland with less heroic
valour than the natives of your own glorious isle, precipitated
herself upon the foe?
"The blood of England, of Scotland, and of Ireland, flowed in the
same stream, on the same field. When the still morning dawned,
their dead lay cold and stark together; in the same deep earth
their bodies were deposited; the green corn of spring is now
breaking from their commingled dust; the dew falls from Heaven
upon their union in the grave.


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