uence and wit, how much acuteness and knowledge, how many
engaging qualities, how many fair hopes, are buried in the grave of poor
Charles Buller. There were other men, men with whom I had no political
connection and little personal connection, men to whom I was, during a
great part of my public life, honestly opposed, but of whom I cannot
now think without grieving that their wisdom, their experience, and the
weight of their great names can never more, in the hour of need, bring
help to the nation or to the throne. Such were those two eminent men
whom I left at the height, one of civil, the other of military fame; one
the oracle of the House of Commons, the other the oracle of the House
of Lords. There were parts of their long public life which they would
themselves, I am persuaded, on a calm retrospect, have allowed to be
justly censurable. But it is impossible to deny that each in his own
department saved the State; that one brought to a triumphant close the
most formidable conflict in which this country was ever engaged with a
foreign enemy; and that the other, at an immense sacrifice of personal
feeling and personal ambition, freed us from an odious monopoly, which
could not have existed many years longer without producing fearful
intestine discords. I regret them both: but I peculiarly regret him who
is associated in my mind with the place to which you have sent me. I
shall hardly know the House of Commons without Sir Robert Peel. On the
first evening on which I took my seat in that House, more than two and
twenty years ago, he held the highest position among the Ministers
of the Crown who sate there. During all the subsequent years of my
parliamentary service I scarcely remember one important discussion in
which he did not bear a part with conspicuous ability. His figure is now
before me: all the tones of his voice are in my ears; and the pain with
which I think that I shall never hear them again would be embittered by
the recollection of some sharp encounters which took place between us,
were it not that at last there was an entire and cordial reconciliation,
and that, only a very few days before his death, I had the pleasure of
receiving from him marks of kindness and esteem of which I shall always
cherish the recollection.

But, Gentlemen, it is not only by those changes which the natural law of
mortality produces, it is not only by the successive disappearances of
eminent men that the face of the world has bee