The Sun.
London, England, 1839-08-31 00:00:00

day's ,o'emnitt no man has a right to entertein any per- I
sonal feelings on his own behalf, but that all private
resp ct and individual considerations ate necessarily ab.
sorbed in the eel, bratiun this great day in honour of this
great man—(lmmense checring)—yet I feel that, called
upon as I hate been, and standing‘ here to perform this
grateful and honourable duty, it would be affectation—it
would be ingratitude—it weu'el be insolent ingratitude, if I
were not to express the feelings which glow within my
bosom at being niade the humble instrument of expressing
those feelings which reign predominant in yours.--( Long
continued cheering.) This is it which bears me up
against all the difficulties of the position in which your
choice has placed me.—(Hear.) Enough for my own
feelings—now for my mighty subject.—(Great cheering.)
But the choice you have made of your instrument—of
your organ, as it were, upon this oec ,sion—is not uncon-
nected with that subject, for it shows that on this day, on
this occasion, all personal, all political feelings—(pro-
tracted cheering)—are quelled--all strife of party is
hushed—that we are incapable, whatever be our opinions,
of refusing to acknowledge transcendent meritond ofdenying
that we feel the irresistible impulse of unbounded gratitude.
—( Loud cheers. )—And I am therefore asked to do this ser-
vice, as if to show that no difference of opinion upon
subjects, however important—no long course of opposition,
however conducted, upon public principles—no political
hostility (for any thing other than political)—not even
long inveterate habits of public opposition are
able so far to stifle the natural feelings of our hearts—
so far to obscure our reason as to prevent us from
feeling as we ought—boundless gratitude for boundless
merit.—( Enthusiastic and tremendous cheering. ) Nei-
ther can it pluck from our minds that admiration propor-
tioned to the transcendent genius in peace and in war—
( Renewed cheering)—of him who is amongst us to-day---
nor can it lighten or alleviate the painful, the deep sense
which the untired mind never can get rid of when it is
overwhelmed by a debt of gratitude too boundless to be
repaid.—(Cheers.) Party--the spirit of party—may do
much, but it cannot operate so far as to make us forget
those services—it cannot so far bewilder the memory, and
pervert the judgment, and quench and stifle the warmth of
the natural affections, and eradicate from our bosoms those
feelings which do us most honour and are the most un-
avoidable, and as it were dry up the kindly juices of the
heart ; and, notwithstanding- all its vile and malignant in-
fluence on other occasions, it cannot dry up those juices
of the heart so as to parch it like very charcoal, and make
it almost as black. —(Cheering.) But what else have Ito
do? If I had all the eloquence of all the tongues ever at-
tuned to speak, what else can I do ? flow could a thousand
words, or all the names that could be named, speak so
powerfully—ay, even if I spoke with the tongue of
an angel, as if I were to mention one word—Arthur
Wellesley, Duke of Wellington.—(Rapturous cheering)
—the hero of a hundred fields, in all of which his banner
has waved in triumph—who never, I invoke both hemi-
spheres to witness—bear witness, Europe—bear witness
Asia—who never advanced but to cover his arms with
glory ; the captain who never advanced but to be victo-
rious, the mighter captain who never retreated but to
eclipse the glory of his advance.—( Loud and long con-
tinued cheering.) By the yet harder task of unwearied
patience indomitable to lassitude, the inexhaustible re-
sources of transcendent skill, showing the wonders, the
marvels of a moral courage never yet subdued.—( Cheers. )
Despising all that thwarted him with ill-considered advice
—neglecting all hostility, so he knew it to be groundless—
laughing to scorn reviling enemies, jealous competitors,
luke-warm friends—ay, hardest of all, to neglect despising
even a fickle public—(Tumultuous ;cheers)—and casting
his eye forward as a man might—else he deserves
not to command men—casting his eye forward to a
time when that momentary fickleness of the people would
pass away—knowing that in the end the people are always
just to merit.—(Cheers.) Men are apt to be dazzled by
the loud voice of fame, and to confound together the land-
marks that separate the departments of human merit :
often taken in svi:ll the tinsel and glitter, rather than at-
tending to the die which guarantees the purity of the coin,
or to the weight, which is the test of its value—oftentimes
you hear them praising—with a just praise, no doubt—
martial deeds of high ernprise, and only dcv Ming their
admiration and lavishing their praise upon the conqueror's
success in a well-foughten field—( Cheers)—but it Sala-
manca, and if Talavera, and if Vittoria, and if Vimiera,
and the passage of the Douro and Assaye in the East,
and Toulouse and Waterloo in the Wast—( Great cheer-
ing)—it these dazzle upon the medallion which attempts,
and vainly attempts to perpetuate his fame, sober-minded
and reflecting men will pause crc they hold that these
are the greatest achievements of his life ; and a re-
flecting mind will look back, and will point the ad-
miring look to the contemplation of Torres Vedras,
and its long and well sustained lines, and to
the retreats, and battles, and victories gained thus, under
adverse circumstances, such as the splendid achievement
of Busaco—( Cheers)—because all le flection teaches us
that that is the true test of genius which shows its resources
to be of inexhaustible fertility in difficulties—its move-
ments to be nimble and swift as lightning, altering with
varying circumstances, which shows a firmness—an almost
superhuman firmness to keep by its own counsel, and look
forward to the success which it feels and knows that it has
earned.—( Cheers.) That is a moral courage of a higher
nature than any that is known or comprehensible to the
vulgar brain.—(Cheers). To whom are we to compare
this great warrior—this great statesman—(immense cheer-