Jim Callaghan died during the Easter recess just a day before his 93rd birthday. Many present and former Members, and from all sides, have already paid warm tribute to someone who was a Member of this House for 42 years and the only Member of Parliament ever to hold the four great offices of state. But those tributes, from political allies and foes alike, do not simply focus on his remarkable career. They talk, rightly, as much about his personal qualities—about his decency, honesty and integrity, his friendship and loyalty.

Many of the tributes also touched on Jim Callaghan's devotion to his family and in particular to Audrey, his wife, who died just 11 days before him. He had nursed her through a long illness. His marriage to her was a thing extraordinary and humbling to witness: a genuine, deep and abiding love that never wavered, never dulled through good times and bad, but burned true and full even as they grew old and frail. I am sure the whole House will join me in sending our sympathy to Michael, Margaret and Julia and the wider family on the loss of both their mother and their father.

In Jim Callaghan's case, one could not separate his achievements as a politician from his qualities as a man. Many times over the past 10 years, I had reason to seek his counsel. Each time, he gave it with a rigorous approach to the problem in hand, objective advice as to how to resolve it and an utterly unswerving commitment to the country and to the political party he served.

Jim Callaghan's life almost spans the history of the entire Labour party. It was the Labour party's values of social justice, solidarity and opportunity for all that brought him into the party and he worked tirelessly throughout the whole of his life to put them into action.

Jim Callaghan was brought up by his widowed mother and had known hard times as a child. Indeed, he used to recall the difference the pension provided by the first Labour Government had made to their family's life. He left school at 16 to become a clerk in the Inland Revenue—perhaps the only one in history to climb the ladder so far that he became First Lord of the Treasury. But perhaps because he always regretted not having had the chance to go to university, he was passionate throughout the entirety of his political career about spreading the benefits of education as widely as possible. In 1976, his Ruskin college speech on education was the first by a Prime Minister to recognise the central importance of education to Britain's future and the need to educate well not a few but all the country's children. I hope that that lives on in this Government's commitment to education today.

Jim Callaghan was also one of the generation who fought in the war and came back determined to build a better, fairer and different Britain, one at peace with our neighbours. He was a real patriot, but thanks to his experiences of the war, never confused patriotism with narrow nationalism. Britain was, of course, still at war when he was adopted and then elected as Member of Parliament for South Cardiff. He continued to serve that constituency and the city with great pride and affection for 42 years and took its name for his title when he went to the other place.

When Jim Callaghan began his career in Parliament, it was not long before his talents were recognised by the great reforming 1945 Labour Government of Clement Attlee. Two years after he was first elected, he was appointed Parliamentary Secretary for Transport. I confess that, until recently, I was not aware of the fact that, in his first ministerial post, he was responsible for introducing both zebra crossings and cat's-eyes on trunk roads. Those are lasting achievements of which most junior Ministers in any Government, of whatever persuasion, would be envious. He was also proud to have been a member of a Government who, among their many achievements, created the national health service.

When Labour lost power, Jim proved himself an effective performer in opposition. He had a rapid rise through the ranks, being elected to the shadow Cabinet and then to Labour's ruling national executive. His calmness under pressure, his easy manner and his ability to think quickly meant that he was a good performer not just in the House, but on the new medium of television. His long period as shadow Colonial Secretary strengthened his commitment to the Commonwealth and to the developing world and he forged many friendships there that have stood the test of time. I know that he would have been delighted at this Government's work on debt relief and with the Commission for Africa.

From 1964 onwards, when Labour was returned to power, Jim went on to hold the four great offices of state over the years to come. He served in each with distinction, but in each he was also severely tested. As Chancellor, he inherited an economy badly out of kilter with an overvalued pound and record balance of trade deficits. When he was forced eventually to devalue, he insisted on resigning from the Treasury.

As Home Secretary, Jim inherited the deepening crisis in Northern Ireland and it fell to him to send in the Army to help protect the Catholic minority. He handled the worsening situation with great calm and confidence, which only increased his standing in the party and, indeed, the country. It was also on his watch as Home Secretary that Parliament abolished for good capital punishment for murder—an example of his determination to build a more decent and a more civilised society.

As Foreign Secretary from 1974 to 1976, Jim fought and, indeed, won a referendum on Britain's membership of the Common Market. Though by no means a natural enthusiast, he was convinced by the evidence that it was in Britain's strong national interest to be at the heart of Europe.

All those trials and tests were preparation for when Harold Wilson stood down as party leader and Prime Minister in 1976 and Jim was elected his successor. He threw himself into the job with characteristic courage and commitment and, indeed, he needed all his personal qualities to hold together both the party and a parliamentary pact with the Liberals—a tribute to anyone's patience.

He was good at it.

He was indeed good at it.

As Prime Minister, Jim became a figure, even as the difficulties mounted, viewed with respect and he brought an earthy common sense and determination to do right to all that confronted him. In many ways, despite the problems, it was the office to which he was best suited. If he had been given time, Jim Callaghan would have made not just a good Prime Minister, but a great one.

Finally, after almost three years, most of it without a Parliamentary majority, the Government were defeated. The margin of defeat was just one vote and it says a great deal about Jim Callaghan that, even though he knew how close the vote would be, it was on his express instruction that a desperately ill Labour Member of Parliament was not ordered down for the Division.

By the time that I arrived in the Commons in 1983, Jim Callaghan was no longer leader but a respected Father of the House. He later sat in the other place, where he continued to make telling contributions to debates on subjects close to his heart—including, of course, the power of education to transform lives. I know how important it was for him to see Labour back in power again and how delighted he was with this Government's programme of economic stability and social justice combined together.

Kenneth, now Lord, Morgan makes the point in his recent biography that Lord Callaghan in many ways personified the history of post-war Britain, the challenges and its successes. He also embodied, as a man and as a politician, the essential and enduring values of fairness, compassion and solidarity. He will be sorely missed, but as Jim Callaghan himself said in his memoirs:

"In the Labour Party, it is now the task of a new generation . . . to reconcile individual freedom with the general welfare, to settle the limits of the state's reach, to grapple with and overcome racial discrimination and to assist the great mass of poor people who make up the world's population to free themselves from poverty and ignorance".

Those are the goals to which, in his memory, we, at least on this side, rededicate ourselves today.

Before I call the Leader of the Opposition, I would like to pay my own tribute to Lord Callaghan.

When I first entered the House in 1979, he was extremely kind and helpful to me, as he was to all new Members of Parliament. That kindness and support was always there, even when he left the House of Commons and was elevated to the House of Lords. He will be missed by a great many Members of this House.

May I associate myself with the Prime Minister's generous tribute and join him in offering my sincere condolences to Lord Callaghan's family?

Jim Callaghan was universally respected. The warmth of the tributes that have flowed over the past week from across the political divide, all corners of the United Kingdom and elsewhere bear testimony to that. All who met him spoke of his personal qualities, dignity, warmth and humanity, and those who had never met him knew of him in the same way. He will be remembered especially fondly in Wales. There he was an adopted son, having served Cardiff in Westminster for 42 years. All who doubt where his loyalties lay should reflect on the words of his biographer: when England played Wales at rugby, Jim Callaghan referred to Wales as "we". That is good enough evidence for me.

As the Prime Minister said, Lord Callaghan had the distinction of being the only holder of all the great offices of state. As such, he had a profound influence on the course of the political life of our nation across the entire latter half of the 20th century. His modest background and growing up during the depression fuelled his approach to politics. His period as Home Secretary saw him take the difficult decision to send soldiers to Northern Ireland. As Foreign Secretary, he helped to renegotiate the terms of entry into the then European Economic Community. As Prime Minister, he launched a debate on education that many credit with leading—eventually—to the introduction of the national curriculum.

Lord Callaghan was brave in standing for his own beliefs. In fact, one of his first actions in government was to resign as a Parliamentary Private Secretary over the American loan agreement in December 1945. One of his last actions as an active politician was to speak out against unilateral nuclear disarmament at a time when that was far from fashionable in his party. He always had a willingness to learn. On becoming shadow Chancellor, for example, he quickly recognised the need to take a course in economics at Oxford.

It is fair to say that Lord Callaghan's premiership took place, to adapt the allegedly Chinese proverb, in interesting times. He had to grapple with serious questions, such as the role of trade unions, Britain's economic decline, the search for peace in Northern Ireland and the issue that eventually forced the election in 1979—devolution. None of those was unique to his Administration because the same issues were faced by Governments both before and after his. They were long-term problems with no short-term solutions. Other Governments would need to tackle them over the years that followed. In some ways, Lord Callaghan foreshadowed the prescriptions that would follow, too, not least in his famous 1976 Labour party conference speech warning of the perils of countries spending their ways out of recession. His Administration can be regarded as a watershed and his prescient comments before his defeat, acknowledging a sea change in domestic politics, showed that he foresaw what was to come.

It is remarkable that, even during and after that defeat, Lord Callaghan never lost his personal popularity. Recently he won praise from unlikely quarters. Baroness Thatcher called him a formidable opponent who could best her across the Dispatch Box and Lord Tebbit called him "warm and approachable". He was widely seen as having a shrewd political instinct while retaining both common sense and a common touch. He was an excellent negotiator—by no means an insignificant attribute given the challenges of his time. He was a patriot and from the last generation to have served in the war.

As the Prime Minister said, Lord Callaghan was a family man, in deed as well as word. He cherished the company of not only his children, but especially his grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Of course, he was devoted to his wife Audrey. It is a bittersweet testimony to that devotion that he died just 11 days after she did.

It was perhaps characteristic of Lord Callaghan that he was said to remark that one of his proudest and most lasting achievements—to which the Prime Minister has alluded—was, as a junior Transport Minister, the introduction of cat's-eyes on our roads.

Loyalty to principle, decency, humanity, sincerity: these are the attributes for which Lord Callaghan will be remembered and he will be sadly missed.

It is a privilege to associate myself with the very proper expressions of condolence from the Prime Minister and the leader of the Conservative party to the relatives of the late Lord Callaghan.

I can certainly echo what you said a few moments ago, Mr. Speaker. All three of we party leaders were elected to this House in 1983, and Jim Callaghan was the Father of the House in that Parliament. In those days, I happened to be the youngest Member of the House, and he was very avuncular to me in both image and reality. As Father of the House, he took time to show me around the House of Commons Library, to introduce me to the Officers and staff and to do things that, frankly, he did not need to do, but which he none the less took it upon himself to do. That was the nature of the man, and a very fine man he was, too.

In an age in which most of us have had the opportunity of some form of tertiary education, it is remarkable that, as recently as the late 1970s, a man who did not have that opportunity—and who was keenly conscious of those who also did not have that opportunity—was able to rise to the great offices of state and to the ultimate office: that of Prime Minister.

The Prime Minister referred in passing, perhaps unnecessarily pejoratively, to the period of the Lib-Lab pact, and I want seriously to echo the reflections of one of my predecessors, Lord Steel of Aikwood, on his dealings with Prime Minister Callaghan during that period. Despite all the difficulties—the precariousness arising from the lack of a parliamentary majority and the obvious issue of party self-interest, but the need none the less to build majorities in the Division Lobby and to ensure the continuing governance of the country against a very difficult economic backdrop—David Steel found that Jim Callaghan had an acute sense of the overriding national interest, which he was willing to elevate above and beyond sectional party interest. That is a good example for us all.

Jim Callaghan was a member of a most remarkable post-war generation of politicians in this House, which also included people such as Sir Edward Heath and the late Roy Jenkins. Tempered as they were by the experience of war, they were determined to build, at home and internationally, a better world order than the one that they experienced during that terrible and tumultuous period.

Our sympathy obviously goes to Jim Callaghan's immediate family, but we are grateful for the remarkable example of decency and consistency in public life that he undoubtedly set.

Never, ever, was a parliamentary nickname more inappropriate: "Kind Jim", "Thoughtful Jim" and yes, "Calculating Jim", but not "Sunny Jim" by any stretch of the imagination. He was extremely kind, as has been said, to new Members, and I go back to the 1958 Labour party conference in Scarborough. It was my first conference and I found myself in the unenviable position of moving the first composite motion on the first morning. No one could have been more thoughtful towards an extremely nervous parliamentary candidate. Indeed, Chris Price, the elder brother of my hon. Friend Helen Jackson and I had our proverbial hands held by Jim Callaghan at that time. Not only that, he went out of his way to introduce young members of the party to his many contacts in the developing world. As has been said by the Prime Minister and the Leader of the Opposition, he certainly had many extremely close friends in the developing world.

When I was elected to the House, the other by-election candidate—many will remember Jeremy Bray—and I were asked within a couple of days to go and see the shadow Chancellor in his room. He said that had been told by Sara Barker, the legendary national party agent, that we were both excellent by-election candidates. Then he looked at us and said, "Of course, in my experience, Sara's swans turn into geese." That was Jim. Jeremy then proceeded to give the shadow Chancellor a lecture on econometrics as only Jeremy Bray could.

Jim was a thoughtful man. I am the last Member of the House of Commons who had to stand at the Bar of the House to face Mr. Speaker putting on his black cap to administer a formal rebuke, after I was "done over", shall we say, on Porton Down, by the Privileges Committee. Jim Callaghan first said that he did not take part in blood rituals and was not going to vote for what was, after all, a Speaker's motion when he was Home Secretary. Secondly, he summoned me when I was in adversity: he called me a chump, but no one could have been kinder. It is the experience of Roy Hattersley and many others of our generation that Jim was extremely thoughtful and kind whenever there was trouble.

In 1969, I wanted to go to Northern Ireland. My hon. Friend Mr. McNamara will remember the incident. Being a courteous person, I let the then Minister of State in the Home Office—Welsh Members will remember him as Elystan Morgan—know that I wanted to go to the troubles of Northern Ireland. I received one of those pink slips, but it was not from Elystan Morgan but from the Home Secretary, inviting me to go and see him forthwith.

I waddled across to that long sepulchral room in the Home Office and there was Jim Callaghan sitting at his desk. He looked up and said, "I hear you want to go to Northern Ireland. What do you think you can do for the good of the Northern Irish that I cannot do as Home Secretary?" He was quite good at reducing his colleagues to a watery laugh. After that, he went on to explain that in no way was he going to have his faithful Parliamentary Private Secretary, the late Gregor Mackenzie or any Scot in Northern Ireland. He would depend on Roland Moyle, whom my right hon. Friend Dr. Cunningham knows very well was, along with Merlyn Rees, Roger Stott and others, part of the Callaghan praetorian guard. Jim Callaghan certainly gave great loyalty to those who were loyal to him.

I also think of Jim's courage. In 1972, I went to his flat in south London after he had had a prostate operation. He took the view that he would probably not come back into central politics again. However, the courage and determination that drove him all his life ensured that he did come back—and, indeed, as Foreign Secretary in 1974.

Jim Callaghan was complex. I was the chairman of the Labour party's foreign affairs committee when he was Foreign Secretary. I used to see him every Wednesday night. Sometimes I would say to him, "As a senior member of the Cabinet, what are you going to do about all these problems concerning Scotland, the Scottish Parliament and so on?" "Oh," he said, "Don't trouble me with that nonsense. Tell me what the party thinks about Cyprus." He was a consummate politician, because when the Scottish problem erupted the Prime Minister took a somewhat different view.

In 1986, I was invited by a Welsh constituency Labour party to speak about intelligence and security. I accepted and, being a courteous man, I let the local Member of Parliament know. The response was an invitation to go to tea with Jim and Audrey at their Cardiff flat. I asked him how I would get from his flat to the meeting. "Oh," he said, "I'll take you." I said, "Jim, you are not coming to the meeting are you?" He said, "I always go to my constituency party meetings." He took me and I have never quivered so much in my life. I said to him, "You were only Chancellor of the Exchequer, Home Secretary, Foreign Secretary and Prime Minister. Why are you not talking on intelligence and security?" He smiled sweetly and said, "They never ask me," and added, "I am curious to know what you are going to say." I have many happy memories.

My right hon. Friend the Prime Minister paid tribute to Jim's faithfulness and great esteem for Audrey. The last time I was on the phone to him some months ago he simply said, as he did to many other people, "I've got to go because I am due to go and see Audrey." I salute both of them.

I am grateful for the chance to say a few words. I knew Lord Callaghan for 46 years—exactly half of his long life—and I join the Prime Minister in his comments about the warmth and fine character of Jim Callaghan. It fell to him, as the then shadow Colonial Secretary, to reply to the debate on central Africa in March 1960 when I made my maiden speech. In his winding-up speech he said some characteristically pleasant words about my maiden speech and subsequently wrote me a charming letter of congratulation. That was typical of his kindness and I had many examples of that during the long years that followed.

I have had the privilege of listening to 10 Prime Ministers answering questions and Jim Callaghan, in the extraordinarily difficult economic circumstances of his premiership, was the ablest of the 10 at answering Prime Minister's questions.

I want to give a little vignette, which is intended to be of historic interest and not controversial. When Hugh Gaitskell was unexpectedly taken ill and his health tragically deteriorated almost unbelievably, it was reported that he was suddenly gravely ill. It so happened that I was lunching that day at the Carlton club. When I arrived, Harold Macmillan, who was then Prime Minister, was sitting alone at the members' table, as he often did—perhaps twice a week—but not always alone. He beckoned me over, so I went and sat next to him and said that it looked as though Gaitskell might be dying. Those were the days when party leaders were interested in what Back Benchers had to say—[Laughter.] He asked me whom I thought the Labour party would choose to succeed Gaitskell. I said, "Well, the three names that are being mentioned as front runners are Harold Wilson, George Brown and Jim Callaghan." To which Macmillan replied, "If they've any sense, they'll elect Callaghan, because he is much the best man they've got."

Many of the things that have been said about Lord Callaghan will be treasured by his family and many friends.

My hon. Friend Mr. Dalyell has already referred to the way in which Lord Callaghan always went back to his constituency and to the party. In 1987, I inherited a constituency Labour party that was used to being addressed each month by the Foreign Secretary, the Home Secretary, the Chancellor of the Exchequer or the Prime Minister. As I said at the time, "Follow that." Until I had been here for a while, however, I did not realise that the help that I received as a constituency MP from my predecessor was not the universal experience of all my colleagues. Nobody could have been kinder or more helpful than Jim.

For Jim, the people of Cardiff, South and Penarth came first. As Foreign Secretary or as Prime Minister, he always asked the question, "What are people saying in Splott, Llanrumney, Penarth and Grangetown?" I was privileged to sit in on surgery sessions as he dealt with the individual and community problems of people in the constituency and in sessions with his agent, Jack Brooks—now Lord Brooks of Tremorfa—and with Gordon Houlston, the chair of the constituency party, as he probed the local issues and linked them to his national and international perspectives. His love and care for the people of the constituency is still reflected in their deep and abiding affection for him.

One anecdote sums it all up for me. Jim was introduced to the great Joe Erskine, the boxer from Butetown. "I'm delighted to meet you," said Jim, "You're a hero of mine. I've always wanted to meet you." Joe said, "We've met before, Mr. Callaghan." "Oh," said Jim, "I don't think we have. You've been my hero. I would have remembered." "No," said Joe Eskine, "Do you remember taking a group of children from St. Mary's school in the docks around the House of Commons? I was 11 years old at the time, and you shook my hand as we left." Jim then said wryly, "You should always remember and be careful how you speak to 11-year-old boys. You never know what they are going to grow up into."

Jim never forgot his people in his constituency and they loved him for it. After standing down as MP, he continued to work for us, supporting the development of Cardiff bay and helping us to find the right design for the new building for the National Assembly for Wales.Audrey, who died 11 days before him, was loved and celebrated in her own right, as a campaigner on children's issues as well as Jim's constant companion in his visits to the constituency.

Those who accuse MPs of being remote or detached forget that we return to our constituencies regularly to respond to individual and community concerns and to hear directly from the people. Nobody could have possibly encapsulated that essential relationship between the parliamentarian and the people more perfectly than Jim Callaghan and his relationship with the people of Cardiff, South and Penarth. He provided a model that we should all aspire to follow. May he rest in peace.

May I on behalf of Plaid Cymru and the Scottish National party associate myself fully and sincerely with all the tributes paid this afternoon? They have been full and generous, and deserved in my view and that of many people outside the Chamber.

As the Prime Minister said, the late Jim Callaghan did not have the benefit of a university education, but none the less held all four major offices of state. That is no mean achievement. His life is an inspiring example of social mobility. His achievements were the result of his abilities and not of privilege, birth or family background. We believe that we must fight to maintain the possibility for other people to be inspired by his example and to achieve as near as possible what he achieved in his full life.

May I associate myself with the tributes to the family? There will be a great loss throughout Wales, not just in Cardiff. A square in Cardiff has already been named after the late Lord Callaghan. That is a fitting tribute, and I have no doubt that there will be others.

A great loss will also be felt across the political spectrum. My predecessor, Dafydd Wigley, had many discussions with James Callaghan and his Administration in 1974. Those culminated in compensation for quarrymen and miners affected by dust, and eventually to the inception of the Welsh language television channel, S4C. He was, to coin a phrase, a man you could do business with. He was certainly a man of his word. He also had a very human side to him, as recalled by Dafydd Wigley recently, and was often hurt by criticism, particularly from his own side.

Lord Callaghan was a major figure in British politics. He will be sorely missed. He also had a good grasp of the art of surprise in choosing the date of a general election—an example that we might follow today.

Jim Callaghan cared desperately about the House of Commons and other things that are important to me, because for him the Labour party was the fount of many of his commitments not only to moral political views but to changing the role and quality of life of those whom he felt he represented. He was a clever man, and one who was frequently sadly underestimated. Although he had warmth and wit and could display them, he nevertheless had an intellectual toughness that enabled him frequently to survive very real pressures.

Jim Callaghan knew that the Labour party and, above all, the House of Commons needed to represent that which was decent, honest and fair. His commitment to that desire for equality remained the centrepiece of his life, no matter which of the Houses he served in. He had, of course, a wicked sense of humour. He stopped me in the Lobby on one occasion and said, "Would your mother like to be the first woman Lord Lieutenant of London?" I said, "I should think she'd be like a cat with two tails," and he said, "It's secret. You can't tell anybody. And anyway, she was the very first person I thought of." There was a slightly pregnant pause, and then he said, "Well, no, that's actually not true. I thought of dozens of people before her."

Jim Callaghan worked closely with my family, and he and my father had some good old rows, but he did something that is, perhaps, underestimated: he kept together a very large political party that always represented many strands of the people of the United Kingdom. He kept together his faith in parliamentary democracy. He put his commitment to this House, above all, at the very forefront of everything that he did. He served this country well. He loved and served his family well. We are honoured to have known him.

On behalf of the Ulster Unionist party and, I am sure, of all Ulster Members, may I add my words to those of the Prime Minister, the Leader of the Opposition and other right hon. and hon. Members?

The Prime Minister referred to the one connection that most linked Jim Callaghan to Ireland—that fateful August in 1969, when the Prime Minister of Northern Ireland, James Chichester-Clark, requested the troops to come in to halt the anarchy developing on our streets throughout the Province—but one other instance, which I noticed in the obituaries, should be highlighted further.

At a much earlier stage, Jim Callaghan, on behalf of the Labour party—not the Government—went to Northern Ireland and visited the old Northern Ireland Labour party, which was strong in Belfast, and the old Republican Labour party. It was no different from the Labour party in the great industrial cities of the north of England or in Scotland or Wales. He tried to develop the Labour party organisation as a normal Labour party organisation standing for election throughout Northern Ireland, as it was throughout the rest of the UK.

With the benefit of hindsight and looking back over history, I wonder whether the Conservative and Unionist party and the Liberal party—as it was then—would still be organised in Northern Ireland had the Labour party been successful in organising from the working-class areas of Belfast and the non-sectarian trade union movement in the old great industries of Belfast. I wonder whether the past 30 years in Northern Ireland might have been slightly different. It was Jim Callaghan who went across, much earlier, on behalf of the old Labour party, to organise Labour in the Province. He will be greatly missed. He was a great gentleman in politics.

I had the honour and the pleasure of serving as James Callaghan's Parliamentary Private Secretary throughout his time at the Foreign Office and during his first year as Prime Minister in 10 Downing street. I came to know him very well in that time, of course, but I recall that earlier, when I barely knew him at all, the first time that I heard him speak was when he made his last speech as Chancellor of the Exchequer to the Labour party conference in the autumn of 1967. I think it was the last Labour party conference held in Scarborough. Jim was expounding the difficulties of trying to grapple with the manifest economic problems of the time, and in almost an aside said, "Take the banks," and a wag from the delegates section said, "We wish you would." He recovered from that hilarity and went on to make a speech about how grave were the circumstances of the British economy, but I do not think that too many people were convinced.

When I was elected to this House in 1970, I had met Jim only a couple of times and was sitting in the Members' Dining Room with some contemporaries when a message came to me that Jim would like me to become his Parliamentary Private Secretary. Of course, only the grandees in opposition had a PPS in those days. I said that I would like to think about it, and the messenger, Gregor Mackenzie, said, "I wouldn't be taking too long if I was you." [Laughter.] Forgive the attempt at a Glaswegian accent.

I accepted. Some of my friends said, "Jack, you must be mad. Jim Callaghan is yesterday's man. He's over the hill." Well, he was so far over the hill that two years later he became the Foreign Secretary in the Wilson Administration. He took me to the Foreign Office with him; he took me, literally, all over the world, to Africa, Europe, the middle east, the United Nations and the Cyprus peace talks. It was an enormous learning curve and a great apprenticeship. His kindness, generosity, support and advice were legendary.

I recall that, one new year's eve, we were in Zambia, staying near Victoria falls, and Jim insisted on paying for a dinner and a party for the whole party from the Foreign Office, including the secretaries. He then insisted on us all singing "Auld Lang Syne". He shook hands with all the men and kissed all the ladies. As our Zambian hosts were watching this, I said to him, "What do you think they make of all this?" He said, "Well, they probably think these ancient national customs are all very well, but are we fit to govern ourselves?"

Just when I thought that it was probably time for me to change, Harold Wilson resigned as Prime Minister, and Jim appointed me as his campaign manager. I think that it was one of those elections where, if the candidate won, it was of course all down to the candidate's merits, and if the candidate had lost, it would all have been the fault of the agent. Fortunately, we had a winning candidate. I then went off to work with Jim in 10 Downing street, another huge learning curve for me. Again, his personal support, his advice, his courage and his commitment were simply fantastic. During those years, I also came to know Audrey and Jim's family very well. I offer my sincere condolences and those of my family to Jim's family on the tragic loss of their mother and their father in such a short space of time.

Jim Callaghan brought to the premiership vast, unparalleled experience of Government and of Parliament. He was a dedicated servant of the country, deeply patriotic and committed to the well-being of the nation as a whole, but throughout his time in that high office he remained a faithful servant of this House.

I believe that history will treat Lord Callaghan with great kindness. He will be remembered as a giant of the post-war political era, leading his party and the country through some tremendously difficult and challenging international and national situations. Sadly, although he had himself been totally dedicated to the trade unions and the Labour party, some trade unions and some sections of the Labour party failed to learn the obvious lessons of the difficulties that the country and the party faced. Those organisations and some individuals certainly contributed to the downfall of his Government. He deserved a better fate. His wisdom, courage, generosity and personal friendship taught me a great deal about politics, government and this place. I shall always remember him with the very greatest of affection.

My tribute will be very brief but very personal. Jim Callaghan was approachable, kind, decent and a very human individual. An illustration of those qualities is all I want to give. During the years when he was Prime Minister, Macclesfield high school for girls won the BBC's "Top of the Form" competition, beating the Newark grammar school for boys. It was wonderful, and what displays the interest that an excellent Prime Minister had in education was that he invited the two finalist teams to Downing street for the presentation of their awards and to join himself and Audrey for tea.

I had been in Parliament just a few years, then, and I have to say that it was a Labour Prime Minister who invited me to Downing street, together with the late Ted Bishop, who became Lord Bishopton and with whom I had a close relationship. I was given very generous and personal hospitality by the Prime Minister of this country and his charming and utterly delightful wife, Audrey. Even more than that, however, the teams and myself were shown all the wonderful rooms in Downing street, including the Cabinet room. I had never seen those facilities under a Conservative Prime Minister, and I have, perhaps, in other ways, too, benefited from a Labour Prime Minister.

I pay my tribute to a man whom I found utterly delightful and utterly decent. He was a man who will not only be missed but who, rightly, will be long remembered.

It is a great privilege to have this opportunity to pay tribute to Lord Callaghan of Cardiff, known to everyone in Cardiff as Jim. My memories of Jim are very personal.

I worked for Jim in the first general election campaign I was involved in back in 1964, in what was then Cardiff, South-East. I was a postal vote canvasser employed by the Labour party for the princely sum of £5 a week during my holidays from London university. That gave me a taste for politics, and it was an exciting and stimulating time. I got to know Jim and Audrey and their three children very well, and it was a privilege to know the whole family.

Although Jim had been a Member of Parliament since 1945, in the previous election Michael Roberts, who later became MP for Cardiff, North—my seat—had reduced his majority to less than 1,000, so there was great anxiety that Labour might lose Jim, who was seen as a cornerstone of the party. We all knew that if we had a Labour Government, we would need someone like Jim as a steady hand on the tiller. If we put up old age pensions, as we did, and if there was a run on the pound, we would need somebody like Jim to be there. He was seen as very important, as a very experienced politician. In that election campaign we all went all out to get him elected.

I pay tribute to Jim's support and encouragement for young people. The campaign in 1964, in Cardiff, was dominated by young people. It encouraged many of us to get involved in politics and to make it our lives. In that campaign there was a future leader of the Labour party, Neil Kinnock, who is now Lord Kinnock, as well as Glenys Parry, now Glenys Kinnock and a Member of the European Parliament. We were all together in the campaign. There was also Rhodri Morgan, now leader of the Welsh Assembly. I can thank Jim Callaghan very much for bringing us together at that time.

I have two very personal memories of Jim from that time and from that successful election campaign, and they have been referred to already. One was his passion for university education. Jim did not have a degree but he thought that it was so important to encourage other people to obtain one. I was at university in London at that time. The election date was set for October 1964, four days after the start of the university term. I had been totally absorbed in the election campaign the whole time. Jim kept telling me that I must go back to university, whereas I thought that the most important thing was to be present to see Labour win Cardiff, South-East and to see the success of the future Chancellor of the Exchequer, so we had a big battle of wills about whether I should return to university.

The other issue that he felt passionate about was getting rid of the widows' earnings rule. This meant that widows who worked would no longer have their widows' pension cut. Jim's mother was a widow. I believe that he was 10 years old when he lost his father. Jim knew what it was like to be brought up in tough circumstances. I was in a similar family with a widowed mother. The change in the widows' earnings rule that Labour brought in had an immediate effect on my family's circumstances and showed why we needed a Labour Government and why we needed Jim in that Government.

I remember Jim for his passion on those two issues in particular. Coupled with his passion was his ability to get things done. Jim was a practical politician. He was very dependable and determined. He was a huge asset to the Labour party and to politics in general. His passing is a huge loss to the Labour party and to Cardiff.

It is a privilege to add a word or two. My family moved to Cardiff when I was eight. I can testify, as Lord Callaghan's successor has done, to the admiration in which Jim Callaghan was held in Cardiff among my school friends. He was known and loved, as was George Thomas, and that is unusual among politicians. I remember that at my Dad's bottling stores on the Penarth road, everybody knew him and respected him.

I admired him from afar when Jim Callaghan was Prime Minister. After what was by any definition, as colleagues in the House will remember, an uncomfortable by-election in 1983, which I won, he was courteous enough after my maiden speech, when he sat behind me, to be generous in appreciation and offering me his support. For all of the time until he died, he kept with his family a house in my constituency. I canvassed it at every election, more out of courtesy than out of any great hope, and conscious that peers are not allowed to vote. As Jim Callaghan, Denis Healey and Merlyn Rees all lived in the same part of the borough, it was not surprising that it was the last ward to fall to my colleagues and me when gradually we won wards from the Labour party. Jim Callaghan always gave advice, he was always courteous and he was always friendly. I was always grateful to have that experience, as someone who came to politics much later than he.

My borough offered him the freedom of the borough. Jim's son gratefully received it on his behalf, as he was not well enough to come at the time. On a cross-party basis, we honoured him. I share the appreciation of my right hon. Friend Mr. Kennedy for what Jim Callaghan has given the country, and for his patriotism. I share the wish to send condolences to his family.

I can encourage right hon. and hon. Members: it is not only in the female line that Jim Callaghan's political interests have been sustained. His son is still reminding the politicians on the other side of the river that there are jobs to be done, and is still politically active in the local community. We are grateful not only for Jim Callaghan but for the Jim Callaghan legacy.

I just want to add my brief personal encounter with Jim Callaghan to the tributes. I came to the House of Commons after a by-election in 1985, and I made my maiden speech on what became the Public Order Act 1986. I was immediately drafted on to the Standing Committee, where the Opposition were led by my right hon. Friend Sir Gerald Kaufman, who kindly decided that on Report Members who had served in Committee should move their amendments at the Dispatch Box. After only a few months in the House of Commons, I therefore found myself moving Opposition amendments at the Dispatch Box. After moving one amendment and filing into the Lobby, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned round and saw Jim Callaghan, who said, "Was that you at the Dispatch Box?" I said, "Yes, sir, it was." He said, "Very good. Don't let them move you on." That was kind of him, and it only confirms what has been said about his generosity to new Members. Unfortunately, his words of wisdom were not passed on to the powers that be, but they confirm that, above all, he was a very kind and decent man, and he will be sadly missed.

May I add a brief footnote, Mr. Deputy Speaker? I first met Jim at the 1979 general election when he came to speak at Huddersfield town hall. As the new candidate, I was asked to chair the meeting, and I remember the awe in which I held him. When I entered Parliament, he was very kind. I got to know him extremely well, and I also got to know his family very well. In those days, four of us shared a room on the East Corridor, and next door was a room occupied by the former Prime Minister. I saw a lot of Jim—he would pop in, and he got to know my children, as they would pop into his room. I would see members of his family coming along the corridor, and got to know many of them.

Jim was exceedingly kind, and I shall give two illustrations. I was working on a book with an American co-author on Professor Harold Laski. I interviewed Jim about his knowledge of Professor Laski, who was a major figure in the 1930s and 1940s. Many Members have said today that Jim regretted not having a university education. That is true, but when I researched the book, he told me, "You know, being in the war was like being at university in a strange way. I read more than most undergraduates read in their three or four years." He told me that Harold Laski wrote to him wherever he was in the world—remember what a dangerous thing he was engaged in, being at sea in the war—encouraging him to return to the London School of Economics. However, Jim was elected to Parliament and never gained that university degree.

I shall conclude on a caring note. Every five or 10 years, the Labour Members of the 1979 generation have an anniversary dinner. The last time, on our 25th anniversary, Jim sent a lovely note to say that he could not make it, but he usually came. Ten years ago, he said that he had a guilty conscience about us. He said, "I call you my lost boys, because I lost the 1979 general election and put you into opposition for 18 years." That shows the thoughtfulness of a man whom I will always remember. I thank God that I knew him, and that I had the benefit of many hours in his company.