The Glory of English Prose: Letters to My GrandsonColeridge, Stephen
History
The Glory of English Prose: Letters to My Grandson
Coleridge, Stephen
Coleridge, Stephen, 1854-1936; English language -- Great Britain -- Style; English prose literature -- History and criticism
destiny, and which in Europe has caused every tyrant's throne to
quake!
"But they need feel no alarm at the progress of light who defend a
limited monarchy and support popular institutions--who place their
chiefest pride not in ruling over slaves, be they white or be
they black, not in protecting the oppressor, but in wearing a
constitutional crown, in holding the sword of justice with the
hand of mercy, in being the first citizen of a country whose air
is too pure for slavery to breathe, and on whose shores, if the
captive's foot but touch, his fetters of themselves fall off. To
the resistless progress of this great principle I look with a
confidence which nothing can shake; it makes all improvement
certain; it makes all change safe which it produces; for none can
be brought about unless it has been prepared in a cautious and
salutary spirit.
"So now the fulness of time is come for at length discharging our
duty to the African captive. I have demonstrated to you that
everything is ordered--every previous step taken--all safe, by
experience shown to be safe, for the long-desired consummation.
The time has come, the trial has been made, the hour is striking;
you have no longer a pretext for hesitation, or faltering, or
delay. The slave has shown, by four years' blameless behaviour,
and devotion to the pursuits of peaceful industry, that he is as
fit for his freedom as any English peasant, ay, or any lord whom
I now address.
"I demand his rights; I demand his liberty without stint. In the
name of justice and of law--in the name of reason--in the name of
God, who has given you no right to work injustice; I demand that
your brother be no longer trampled upon as your slave! I make my
appeal to the Commons, who represent the free people of England;
and I require at their hands the performance of that condition for
which they paid so enormous a price--that condition which all
their constituents are in breathless anxiety to see fulfilled! I
appeal to this House. Hereditary judges of the first tribunal in
the world--to you I appeal for justice. Patrons of all the arts
that humanise mankind--under your protection I place humanity
herself! To the merciful Sovereign of a free people I call aloud
for mercy to the hundreds of thousands for whom half a million of
her Christian sisters have cried aloud--I ask that their cry may
not have risen in vain. But first I turn my eye to the throne of
all justice, and devoutly humbling myself before Him who is of
purer eyes than to behold such vast iniquities, I implore that the
curse hovering over the head of the unjust and the oppressor be
averted from us--that your hearts may be turned to mercy--and that
over all the earth His will may at length be done!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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