The deaths of Peter Ustinov and Alistair Cooke create a huge void in our intellectual and cultural atmosphere.

In recent days, we have lost two outstanding personalities who, in their quiet but thoroughly brilliant ways, enriched us greatly with their vast talent, intellect and humor. Gone are actor Peter Ustinov, at age 82, and narrator-commentator Alistair Cooke, at age 95.

Both were so fortunate to have so many productive years to enjoy things they wanted to do while in their pursuits of excellence providing so much in the way of insight and inspiration to the rest of us.

They didn’t do it with brash, abrasive, overpowering, attention-grabbing ploys. In some respects they sneaked up on society with their unobtrusive manner. They also stood the test of time, seemingly getting better with each new venture, including considerable acts of philanthropy.

Ustinov was so brilliant in giving us performances as a disheveled, disorganized, befuddled but focused rogue. He was considered one of the sharpest wits to be found in entertainment, and his cultural achievements were legendary. Some have labeled him “a man with a platinum tongue” because he could be so droll and literate with that twinkle in his eye that allowed him to shift gears from pathos to humor.

He loved to jab at society and its “experts” with utterances such as: “If the world should blow itself up, the last audible voice would be that of an expert saying it can’t be done.” He was unexcelled at being able to inject needed humor into the most unexpected places.

He handled such roles as detective, slave-owner, evil Roman emperor, gladiator trainer and jewel thief with equal. Ustinov, who spoke six languages, made some 90 movies and handled his roles so well that few realized just how often they might be seeing him on the screen.

Alistair Cooke was a Briton who came to the United States in 1941 and became a citizen. Yet he never lost his precise, dignified, often majestic sense of where he came from and why he could do what he did. He could discuss virtually any subject at some depth, and he became well-known as the master of ceremonies for some of the finest “Masterpiece Theatre” productions ever seen — “Upstairs, Downstairs”, the “Forsyte Saga” and “Brideshead Revisited.”

Cooke did his adopted country many favors “back home.” He was noted for his weekly “Letter From America” on the British Broadcasting System. Realizing full well that there could be misunderstandings even between people speaking the same language, he would try to explain life in America to Britons, often in witty, erudite ways that eased tensions at difficult times.

As for his penchant for making some things sound a bit better than they might actually have been in his “Letter From America,” Cooke was never apologetic. He said he always sought some element of a positive spin, and it wore well. As one reviewer said, “In the end, all of us prefer a touch of illusion to the pedestrian and prosaic truth.” Cooke had that rare verbal touch.

Peter Ustinov and Alistair Cooke proved to be glistening jewels in our cultural, intellectual and entertainment crown and, again, they did it so cleverly, so subtly and non-abrasively. They laid down indelible guidelines that modern poets and pundits would do well to try to emulate.

We can only hope there are many more such “irreplaceable” people waiting in the wings to fill the void their deaths caused.