No Enemy Is Indeed So Terrible As

Fame And Power Are The Objects Of All Men. Even Their Partial Fruition Is Gained By Very Few; And That, Too, At The Expense Of Social Pleasure, Health, Conscience, Life.

That Doctrine Of Peace At Any Price Has Done More Mischief Than Any I Can Well Recall That Have Been Afloat In This Country. It Has Occasioned More Wars Than Any Of The Most Ruthless Conquerors. It Has Disturbed And Nearly Destroyed That Political Equilibrium So Necessary To The Liberties And The Welfare Of The World.

Silence Is The Mother Of Truth.

This Is The Third Time That, In The Course Of Six Years, During Which I Have Had The Lead Of The Opposition In The House Of Commons, I Have Stormed The Treasury Benches: Twice, Fruitlessly, The Third Time With A Tin Kettle To My Tail Which Rendered The Race Hopeless. You Cannot, Therefore, Be Surprised, That I Am A Little Wearied Of These Barren Victories, Which Like Alma, Inkerman, And Balaclava, May Be Glorious But Are Certainly Nothing More.

A Dark Horse, Which Had Never Been Thought Of, Rushed Past The Grandstand In Sweeping Triumph.