Asquith will take his place among the most illustrious of British prime ministers, not merely by virtue of the momentous events in which he played a part, but still more because of his remarkable parliamentary gifts. In this respect he was in the true succession to Gladstone. He had little of the Sinaitic fervour of that great man, but he was not inferior to him in his mastery of the House of Commons. That mastery was achieved, not by emotional passion, but by the force, direction and lucidity of his speech, the intellectual sovereignty that he exercised over his audience, and the qualities of a plain, unaffected character and a singularly dis passionate mind. No man who ever played a great part in affairs was more conspicuously free from the common vices of public life. If he was ambitious it was only the ambition of conscious power directed to public ends. He was the least egotistic of men, and his magnanimity almost bordered on weakness. He was so little of a demagogue that he seemed to avoid rather than invite popular applause, a character to which a certain temperamental shyness contributed. His loyalty to his colleagues, even when they were lacking in loyalty to him, was one of his most striking attributes, and he was so indifferent to his own interests that he not only allowed the praise that belonged to himself to be ap propriated by others, but often assumed the burden of mistakes which others had committed. He was the antithesis of that 18th century statesman of whom it was said that if there was credit to be got no one was so skilful in wriggling in, and if there was dis credit to be borne no one was so skilful in wriggling out. He bore the odious slanders and insults of a demented press during the war with a certain proud and indifferent scorn, and his bearing both in private and public after the consummation of the intrigues against him was a model of dignity and public spirit. He was
never betrayed into violent speech, and if his passion were roused, it was roused, not by personal issues, but by the outrages against public law and the sanctity of constitutionalism. He shared with the younger Pitt the view that the greatest quality in statesman ship was patience, and in all the perplexities with which he had to deal he exercised that quality to the utmost. He would never force a situation while there was a hope that a reasonable and pacific solution could be found. This confidence in the beneficent operation of rational processes led many to suspect him of weak ness, and it is undoubtedly true that there was in him an indis position to anticipate events or to indulge in the histrionics of statesmanship. But on vital issues he was adamant, and his judg ment on all great matters was never vitiated by the smaller con siderations of personal and irrelevant motives. His mind moved in the undistracted orbit of a deeply considered philosophy of government, and it may be said of him, as of another, that if he was sometimes on the wrong side, he was never on the side of wrong. He will live in history not only as one of the most illus trious of British premiers but as a type of all that is best in the English character.
The general affection and regard in which Oxford was held was shown by the gift, in 1927, from 17 of his friends and admirers, including some Conservatives, of a capital sum and an income for life. By his first marriage he had four sons and one daughter. Raymond Asquith, his brilliant eldest son, was killed in action in 1916. By his second marriage he left a son, Anthony, and a daugh ter, Elizabeth, Princess Bibesco. He was succeeded in the earl dom by his grandson, Julian, only son of Raymond Asquith.