office, feeling, in his own words, ‘like a man restored to life.’ All his former colleagues stood by him, with the exception of Stanley.
Parliament met in January 1846, and the government introduced a protection of life (Ireland) bill in the lords, and a corn bill and customs bill in the commons. Peel's friends were astonished to observe how, in that extreme crisis, the spirits of youth revived within him. Never had he been so unerring in debate, or so splendid in exposition. He knew that his time was short; all but 120 of his followers announced their intention of disowning him, but the flower of his party remained faithful to him, and he was assured of victory. In a series of speeches delivered on 22 and 27 Jan., 9 Feb., 27 March, and 15 May, he expounded the theory and practice of free trade. It was in the first of these that he made the declaration that, as a conservative minister, he had done his best ‘to ensure the united action of an ancient monarchy, a proud aristocracy, and a reformed constituency.’ It was of the third that Bright said it was the most powerful ever made within living memory. The peroration contains the passage opening with the words, ‘This night you will select the motto which is to indicate the commercial policy of England.’ It is noticeable that Peel did not recommend free trade on the ground that other nations would imitate us. He considered hostile tariffs ‘an argument in its favour’ (Speeches, iv. p. 601).
On the other hand, the protectionists were ready with personal abuse and skilful obstruction. Thus on one occasion they refused during some five minutes to allow the prime minister to so much as begin his speech (Greville, ii. 380). On another they assailed him ‘with shouts of derision and gestures of contempt’ (ib. p. 392). But the minister was reckless of himself, and continually pointed to the common good and to the verdict of the future. He did not attempt to stem the torrent of Disraeli's abuse; ‘every man has a right to determine for himself with whom and on what occasions he will descend into the arena of personal conflict. I will not retaliate upon the hon. gentleman’ (Speeches, iv. 709). Emboldened by their impunity, Bentinck and Disraeli now drew nearer and accused him of having hounded Canning to death in 1827. Then at last they felt to the full the weight of Peel's hand. He made his defence, and crushed the insidious charge.
Nor did obstruction avail much against ‘the greatest member of Parliament that ever lived’ (Disraeli, Bentinck, p. 231), and on 25 June the corn bill and customs bill passed the lords. But on that same night the whigs and protectionists in the House of Commons who had supported in May the first reading of the Irish bill now, in June, combined to defeat it.
On 29 June Peel announced his resignation, and intimated at the same time that his last outstanding diplomatic difficulty, the Oregon question, had been settled satisfactorily. He declared that the name to be associated with free trade in corn was not his own, but that of Richard Cobden. Finally he said that ‘it may be that I shall leave a name sometimes remembered with expressions of goodwill in the abodes of those whose lot it is to labour, and to earn their daily bread by the sweat of their brow, when they shall recruit their strength with abundant and untaxed food, the sweeter because it is no longer leavened by a sense of injustice.’
On the news of his fall from office there was consternation in Europe; long after (12 March 1851), the king of the Belgians wrote to Lord Aberdeen: ‘I still think with dismay of your letter by which you informed me of the breaking up of Sir R. Peel's administration; then was the beginning of those awful events which not only nearly upset all the governments of Europe, but even civilised society itself.’ For the government of Louis-Philippe was supposed to rest on the sage counsels and the unswerving friendship of Peel. It is said that when, on the night of 24 Feb. 1848, the news of that monarch's fall and flight reached the House of Commons, Hume crossed over to inform Peel, who was seated on the front opposition bench. ‘This comes,’ said the ex-minister, ‘of trying to carry on a government by means of a mere majority of a chamber without regard to the opinion out of doors. It is what those people—and he pointed to the protectionists behind—wished me to do, but I refused.’ Four years of life remained to Peel after his retirement. During that period, though surrounded by a small band of Peelites, he organised no party, but constituted himself the guardian of the policy of free trade, and the mainstay of the whig government. He would accept no honours, and declined the Garter.
Yet these were years of profound happiness, for Peel lived in hope of the future. Writing to Stockmar in March 1848, he said: ‘The times are in our favour—that is, in favour of the cause of constitutional freedom under the ægis of monarchy’ (Stockmar, Memoirs, ii. 427); and again: ‘A victory of communistic theories over the institutions