LORD JOHN RUSSELL ON THE CHARACTER OF THE DUKE.

New Zealander, Volume 9, Issue 709, 29 January 1853, Page 3

LORD JOHN RUSSELL ON THE CHARACTER OF THE DUKE.

The Chronicle of Sept. 23 has a long account of a visit of Lord John Russell to Stirling, wjieu the freedom of that ancient burgh was publicly presented to hiui in the Court Hall. In returning thanks, his lordship took occasion to speak as follow’s on the character and services of the Great Duke: ‘‘Now, gentlemen, having appeared herelo-day in this assembly, I own I feel, although it is not an occasion immediately for introducing it—hut as it is an oppasion in which I have to speak in public, 1 cannot refrain from noticing that event which occupies aH men's minds, and to which the attention of all is now directed —1 mean the loss which (his country has sustained by the death of the Duke of Wellington. 1 must say that while 1 am one of those who most admired that great man, that I am not one of those who think that we ougfij fp |>e sp. dazzled by the fame of his expjoijs that \ye should not epdeavour to gather objects fif imilqliop. even from the conduct of a man r so great and so illustrious. (Cheers.) While many of the actions of Ids life—while many of the qualities wMpfi fip preserved are urn attainable by others, there arc lessons which we may read in the life and act ions-of that illustrious man. It may never he given to another subject of the British Crown to perform services so brilliant as he has performed—it may never he given to another man to hold the sword which secured the independence of Europe—for England, having saved herself by her constancy, saved Europe by her example—it may never he given to anotlrer iwuq, af(cr hay jug obtained such enrinmicefiyan'titicxainpled scries of victories, to show equal moderation in peace as he has shown greatness m war, and to devote the remainder of his life to (he cause of internal and external peace for that eounlry which he has so served—it may never he given to another man to have equal authority with (he sovereigns whom he has served, and to the senate of which he was to the end a venerated member—it may never he given jo another man, after such a career, to preserve eyeu io the end Ijrc I'qjl possession of those great faculties willi which he w as endowed, and to carry o.n the service of one of the most important departments of the Stale by unexampled vigilance and success tq Ifie latest day ol his file, lliese arc the circumstances, these arc the qualities which may neyep ayjiin he performed in the history of (lie world : but there arc other qualities which were displayed in the fife of the Duke of Wellington which we iqay Attain in humble imh tation—that «hi€pre and unceasing devotion to his country—ihaf honest and proud determination to act for the benefit qf fils country on all occasions—that devoted loyally which, while it iqude him ever anxious to serve the Crowp, never induced hjrq to conceal from (he Sovereign that which he believed to be the truth —(hat vigilance ip the constant performance of his duty—that vigilance in the fife which enabled him at all times to give his mind and his faculties to the services which he was called upon to perform—that unostentatious piety by which he wasdistinguished at all times af his life—these are qualities which are attainable by others, and these arc qualities wl)jgj) should not he lost to us as an example. Lpf ns hope, therefore, that while wc render every due honour to the memory qf the Duke of Wellington—Dial while everything which can he done is done by the Sovereign and the country to show how they estimate their irreparable loss —let us not think, when we have performed those services and rendered those honours, that omr duty is Mien over. Lot us gR Fclloel that he was a man of whom his country was greatly proud, and that among nther qualities he preserved those which jl Uj within the power of all to imitate, and which wc may all endeavour Jo attain (cheers). I have ventured upon this subject, but I goiijd not refrain from doing it, and I (just you will escqsc pic (hear, hear), for it has occupied my mind. Perhaps I am the more juslh tied In saying, because there were Tew men — perhaps there were none except the late Lord Melbourne and myself—who could bear this testimony, that however much he mjglit cljffcr in political sentiments with the persons who held Jfce chief offices in the political services of the Stale, he was as willing, as ready, ; as forward, in giving every assistance to them which bethought was for thc'henefit pf flip enquiry (cheers)./’ (Frp.ip the V lllmtrntcii London Hews," September JS.) The J)uke of Wellington is dead. The great aolqioF, the wise statesman, the profound thinker, is go more. We .cannot bqf call the event, which has deprived the country of the living presence of so illustrious a man, a Rational calamity. Yet the star of his usefulness has culminated and fallen ; and Ifis death, when he was full of years and ol honour, |*s an evpnf; that w»3 yearly, jf pot daily expected. Jt will excite go poignant sorrow, because it was natural and tjmely, but it will call forth that manly and general sympathy which death always demands, especially in tfip case of individuals so great and so good as ho was, Nor will the Influence of the event or the sympathy of the multitude be confined to his own country. Throughout Europe, Asia, and America, thp news will fall amid the universal condolence of grateful nations. Since the time when English history became emancipated from mere tradition, and since the influence of the past began to be sensibly felt and understood in the great events of the present, there never arose in this realm a man who conferred so many services on hjs country as Arthur Duke of Wellington. His fame is entirely pure. There is. not a dark spot upon it. As a soldier and a conqueror the annals of no period and of no country can show a reputation more brilliant or deeds so unselfish, as well as so grand and so beneficial, ns his were from his youth to his maturity to his venerable old age. If Alexander were a greater soldier, which is doubtful, he was not such a patriot or friend to humanity. The sword of Wellington wgs neyey drawn to enslave, but to liberate. He was never thp oppressor, but always the friend of the nations amongst whom he appeared, and to him, under Providence, we mainly owe our present position at the very head and front of freedom, the enterprise, the glory, and the civilization of the world. Whatever we are, we might not have been, had that one man been less brave and less virtuous than he was. It Caesar, Timour, Genghis, Charlps qf Sweden, or Napoleon gained victories as great—considered as mere bat-

les—they never gained any so great, considered in the purity of their motives or tiie benign influence which they exercised upon the fortunes ot mankind. Those mighty combatants, Wellington and Napoleon, though human, seemed super-human. Their stupendous struggle has no parallel in ancient or modern history. All other persons and events of our time have been dwarfed by comparison with these r\yo and their deeds. When Napoleon fell and Wellington conquered, the wprld had time to breathe, and to be at rest. The result has been, up to the time at which he died, thirty-seven years of international peace, worth more for the real progress of humanity than any two of three centuries in the history of the world. Yet it was not simply as a soldier, great as he was, that the Duke of Wellington rendered such infinite service to his country- He was a highminded, disinterested, and honest statesman, grid possessed in a remarkable degree a clear, sound, sagacious, amf straightforward intellect. No subterfuges escaped his penetration; no sophistry could stand against his sturdy common sense. As a politician these qualities werg of inestimable value to himself and to Great Britain. Though he had his political predilections he never became the slave of prejudice. Open to conviction, he always |tnevy how to yield when resistance wQuld hgve bpen unwjse or perilous; and more than once, in a crisis of his country’s history, his submission to overpowering fruth and necessity was almost as bri|liai4 a victory in the public cause as Waterloo itself. What he himself said of Sir Robert Peel, his great friend and aHy in political life, might be said with even more justice and emphasis of himself. His great and paramount characteristic was his love and truth. He had as keen a perception of it in men and things, as an ardent loye of it. Truth and Duty“ Duty and Truth.*’ ffhese were his guiding stars throughout the whole of his career. They shone m bis face, tfrey illuminated his mind, and they made his actions what thoy were —lucid and intelligible t p all men, aqd as uipgistakeable in the purity of their aim and p.bject as in their origin and inspiration. And with this solid intellect he never took liberties. Its massiveness prevented even himself from trifling with it. No man ever suspected him of insincerity and double-dealing; and pven af fliat uqhappy time, when popular clamour was raised against him, and. when he, “ father of the nation,” as he might have been considered, was obliged to barricade his windows against the assaults off an ungrateful people who owed their liberties to his integrity and his courage, no. one ever dreamed of accusing him of want of political principle or of personal honesty. It was because the temporarily excited mob believed him to be so honest, that they were so embittered against him. But all this was evanescent. 'J he English are a just people. They go wrong at times; but they invariably come right again ; and if they have one characteristic more strongly developed than another,, it is their love of fair play. It was the peculiar privilege of the Duke of Wellington, as we think it was the peculiar honour of the English people, that the ebullitions of political ill-feeling during the lime of the Reform excitement so speedijy wore themselves out, and that the longer the warrior lived, the more popular he became. It even seemed as if the mob, struck with remorse that they had, in a igoment of blindness, aimed a blow, or launched an ill word against the almost sacred head of their defender, endeavoured to make amends for the angry injustice of a day by the loveand admiration of all future time. For the lust ten or twelve years of jiis honoured and honourably life, his public appearances were publicovations ; and he was affectionately loved, and as sincerely respected, by the humblest street pedestrians whom he met in his daily walks, as he was by the more favoured few with avlioiu he associated In public, us well as in private and domestic life.