§ THE CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER (Mr. ASQUITH,) Fifeshire, E.Mr. Speaker, I must ask the indulgence of the House, which I am sure will be very readily granted, for I crave permission to refer for a moment to the sad intelligence which has reached us this morning of the death of one of the most distinguished of British statesmen. In the Duke of Devonshire we have lost almost the last survivor of our heroic age. This is not the occasion upon which it would be fitting to attempt any survey of his long and eminent career, but this House owes, and I am sure will be anxious at once to pay, its own special tribute to him. It is true that it is now many years since he sat upon our benches, but we cannot forget that for the larger part of his political life he was a Member of this Assembly, that he held here in succession some of the most responsible offices under the Crown, and that for five years, unusually full of arduous and trying emergencies, he was Leader of the Opposition. I am not using the language of exaggeration when I say that in the closing years of his life he commanded in a greater degree than perhaps any other public man the respect and confidence of men of every shade and section of opinion in this kingdom. That position he won for himself, and by himself, by a life of single-minded devotion to duty. There has been no more splendid example in our time of service which can be rendered to the State by simplicity of nature, sincerity of conviction, directness of pur- 1232 pose, intuitive insight into practical conditions, quiet and inflexible courage, and, above all, I would say, tranquil indifference to praise and blame, and by absolute disinterestedness. Those are the qualities which we are proud to think our country breeds in her sons. They were never more happily mixed, or more fruitfully employed, than in the character and life of the Duke of Devonshire.
§ MR. A. J. BALFOUR (City of London)I think all who have heard the Chancellor of the Exchequer will admit not only that he has done well to ask this House to join, informally, indeed, but none the less really, in expressing its profound regret at the loss which public life in this country has sustained, but they will agree with me in thinking that that tribute to a great man departed could not have been proffered in terms more exquisitely or more fittingly chosen, or that more aptly illustrated and expressed the feelings of every gentleman who heard it. This is not the time nor is it the place when we can attempt any survey of the position which the Duke of Devonshire held in, and the effect which he produced upon, the great movements of politics and parties during the long period in which he bore a prominent place in the councils of his country. I certainly do not mean to touch upon that theme. But if, as all will admit, his influence was great, I think he owed it not merely to those abilities with which he was so richly endowed, but to that transparent honesty and simplicity of purpose which not only existed in him in an exceptional measure, but was quite obvious to every man with whom he came in personal contact, to every audience which he addressed, and which, when it is real and plain is one of the most potent factors in public influence. I think of all the great statesmen I have known the Duke of Devonshire was the most persuasive speaker; and he was persuasive because he never attempted to conceal the strength of the case against him. As I put that, it might be regarded as a rhetorical art, but as a rhetorical art it would have been wholly ineffective. In the Duke of Devonshire it was effective because he brought before the public in absolutely clear, transparent, and unmistakable terms the very arguments he had been going through patiently and 1233 honestly before he arrived at his conclusions. He had seen all the difficulties which he ultimately had to pursue. He knew as we all know, that there are arguments, real and strong arguments, to be urged on both sides of almost every practical question that has to be decided. What made the Duke of Devonshire persuasive to friends and foes alike was that when he came before the House of Commons or any other Assembly, he told them the processes through which his own mind had gone in arriving at the conclusion at which he ultimately had arrived. Every man felt that this was no rhetorical device, but that he had shown in clear and unmistakable terms the very intimate processes by which he had arrived at the conclusion which he then honestly supported without fear or favour, without dread of criticism, with out hope of applause. He had that quality in a far greater measure than any man I have ever known; and it gave him a dominant position in any Assembly. In the Cabinet, in the House of Commons, in the House of Lords, on the public platform, wherever it was, every man said, "Here is one addressing as who has done his best to master every aspect of this question, who has been driven by logic to arrive at certain conclusions, and who is disguising from us no argument on either side which either weighed with him or moved him to come to the conclusion at which he has arrived. How can we hope to have a more clear-sighted or honest guide in the course we ought to pursue?" That was the secret of his great strength as an orator. As a man he had a singular gift. He had that transparent simplicity of character which gave him the power of arousing and retaining the affections of all those with whom he came into personal contact. As to his public life, that is before us. We all know it. Part of it is a matter of history, part of it has come under our own observation; and whether we regard it as historians, or look at it by the light of our personal experience, there can be but one verdict on the great career now drawn to its close—that he was a man of singularly transparent honesty and public spirit, and that in his death the whole public life of England has diminished in dignity and has suffered a loss which it is impossible in our time it can ever wholly repair.