The Sun. — London, England, 1852-06-07 00:00:00

THE FR EN C H REPUBLIC, We' have received the Paris journals of Saturday and of Yesterd ay . The Legislative Bodr held a public sitting yester 8Y at ty t o o'clock, M. BILLAULT in the ci)oir. Tne fnEsibnNT informed the deputies that n Bill had been lloran6litted t o hi m b y the Minister of State, relative _, C arrYing into execution the punishment o f h a rd t 4 ,,o_b . ur (tr avaux f orc e s. ) Th e measure was referred the Bureaux for examination. M. DEviricK pre sented the report of the Committee appointed to ex tai4llne the Bill having for object the definitive regula ," of the budget of 1849: ordered to be printed and culitributed. The order of the day was the die intl.s..inO on the Bill relative to offences cons iqiitea by French subjects in foreign countries. ~OUIIIER DE L'EcnusE spoke against the measure. tai nNlta. therepente r ,defended the Bill, main - p r "ing that au omission at present ' existed in the . 4 ,, e1 1ct0 legislation, which the Bill new under consi b r -re lon would supply. The articles were then ° tight forward and after a few remarks, severa l ly b d The; Bill was then adopted in ils ensemble iy 9 l votes t o 5. Th e President next rose, and t a ; ec i:that, dui:leg the sitting, six Bills had been „ Iti 'quitted to him by the Minister of State, one pro ifsir'K to grant a credit of 170, 000 f. for the restore ::lOf the church, of St. Ouen, at Rouen ; another to 11-4 ° l 'ise an exchange of forest land between the State mil l' c i• DES A;RES DE L 'AIGLE ; and the four others k relating to local matters. All these ZWere referred to the Bureaux for examination, and The terminated at four o'clock. 1 416 , Moniteur contains following note on the l uieet of the articles against Belgium in the Condi ztiortne/:—" When the G ove r n ment wishes t o ma k e )14 _ 41 " 71 1 its • real thoughts it confides them to the •moniteur, its only organ. Any publication in any othe r paper cannot engage its responsibility. Th e , — rtiele in the Constitutionnel of to-day obliges us to thiS declaration." ofWe read in a letter from Paris in the I n de pen d ance Brussels; dated Thursday :—"lt has been ru moured to-day in the pohtioal circles, that it is the in , estion of the Government noc to prolo ng th e sess i on ?f . th e ' Legislative Body b e y on d th e 29th instant, but ?assemble the deputi es i n th e month of September A" an additional s ess i on t o l ast to t h e end of Oc. i h i er. I n thi s l ast sess i on several important Bills r ,_ l be sub m itt e d t o it , a f ter b e i ng prepared by the Zullocil of State; amongst them, it is said, will be a t for placing taxes on doge, carriages, livery ser e2tBi Carriage and riding horses, of which there has 1,4 4 a talk for some time past, and which have long t ho a applied-in England. The taxes referred to are t iv " Which the PRESIDENT, always favourable to the u o Ting classes, has often manifested, both in his ( Z'and elsewhere, the desire to see adopted." decree of the PRINCE PRESIDENT of the Repub herrattualgates the treaty of commerce and navigation IsT t LY concluded between France and Sardinia. C on • micitELET has refused to take the oath to the of , tlt ution, and has given in his resignation as chief the historical section kt the Archives, which - post filed since the yeßolB3o. tois s i.' ll GENß RENDU has returned to Paris from ti ov °171 ) with whi c h he was c h arge d by th e F renc h th e „ e , r ' 4 !eut, to i nqu i re i n t o th e s tate of education of TI","°P PRINCE in Prussia, H ano ver, Saxony, and Bavaria. Vant e m PRESIDENT of the Republic has mint !a pardon ,to eight soldiers confined in the scase sbt P r , hoz. in the Rue du Cherche-Midi, their oy s th e " v tng , been recommended to his consideration establistrebbishop of PARIS, after his late visit to that A 11 ,_ ment. and C ot of iron-masters of the Vosges, Doubs, ntliz e ;TOr 7 have petitioned the Ramon PRESl adrilitalkutit the clause in the Customs' Bill, which Play ed in re s e;of duty iron and other met a ls to b e em p L on p r i,Utuart, the celebrated sculptor, died suddenly Its / Y evening at Bougival, near Paris. 1 , 0 „„ N - Es s D ~ONE IN FOREIGN RAILWAYS AT THE Oreat 1 1 ,7°N STOCK EXCHANGE, JUNE 5. aria an Peninsula, 5 1 ,i—Namur and Liege, 63 , ( i — Alen,. 0 —Rouen and Havre, 12%. Ar PORTUGAL. I r y A tt ""'AJESTIIB steam-frigate Retribution, Captain eclo arrived at S -* tb d last evening, at seven ex, pi ea left th malls from Lisbon to the Ist inst. She ' ll fle 3 eib i e .. 4 . ll gus her MAJESTY'S vessels Archer and Tic e • th• Chtlx 1 0g ~3 f . N and KING were still at Matra, and no- PO4LEITICe had occurred in the Cortes. The ti GERMANY. 't) importationthe of corn free of duty Ae , ' 3 "es of the Zullverein has been extended T ha t l ast until th e ht o f nex t O c t o b e r. op th e ' 4 4 . rn Pl'ess of RUSSIA arrived at Schlangenbad tternco n of the 2d, from Wiesbaden, accom ltrett "9 the Duke of NASSAU. prince METTER (II9DO:I3 placed hi s c h ateau o f J o h ann i s b erg a t th e "' of h er I mperial MAJESTY. YiSo n e , i ndepend ance o f B russels, un d er d ate o f ford - ; ‘ , 8 :3 7 , The new edition of th e P ena l C o d e 4to I,s7 lmperial decrees to come into oper a tion Gelh 'at September next. Offences of the press e tried a ccording to the new law. The law on 11,3,4e5s of 1841 i s abrogated, and replaced by a of tion; jou rna l s are su bj ec t e d t o a p rev i ous Wbf .iza,ton h and to a cau ti on -money, the maximum "zed at 10.000 florins (about 22,000 f.) It is stated 1..) - PNMARK. .f.hrlti a letter front Copenhagen of the 31st lam e sic„--„,8 - "dependance of Brussels, that the KING hp,--,reu decree dissolving the Diet, and ordered hi s general eiecti ons on the 4th Augua; also, that cot.,'AJts-ry intend, to promulgate without delay the . d ell tion concluded between the great Powers at thelllj°4 on the Bth ult., relative to the succession to —an * throne. It °k g , -;ai,„----,AN PLAYS, Sr. JAMES'S THEATEE. : — Her , s tili), - "3' , and his Royal Highness Prince Albert, his Royal ihe •Pr e - „ jn aea the Prince of Wales, and her Royal. Highness Ely, th tfe t ,. 5 „,,. 58 Royal, attended by ' the Marchioness of l 4 e - hiss Seri?, Lord Galway, General Buckley,. and . Col. eol?rie, honoured the German Plays with their presence e_atorday evening. V' te l t, Is onunt and Viscountess Palmerston gave a grand CaVainment on Saturday evening, at their mansion in htwen-gardens, to his Royal Highness the Duke of Cam 'Re and a distinguished circle. of ,4i.TAL RENCONTRE.--Mr. Edward Stevenson, son 1 2 zlr. E van S tevenson, was killed at. Georgetown, on t h e tll ult., by Captain Carrick. It app ears that Stevenson qtr atter lion to a Made some publication in the H era l d in relation to t„ " young lady, at whi c h Mr. Carrick ke - c i , 0e (2ffence. This led to some hostile messages between them, pls iett rbail Wednesday they met in Georgotown. Both d rew h at nearly th e s a me t0..3. , Stevenson fired first, an d a „ tu edi __,P -sed through G . W . ck s hat. Carrick fired Ile fell e,`,l;elY afterwards, shooting Steve , ns , o r :u through , the heart. married man, and I' - ea ' v i e e s a dean instantly. He was a 3o b n e ., a ,Nvife and child. Both of !parties were much 0 mod opy those who knew them. —.Fe ankfort (Kentucky) ontinonzvealth. ATAr. RlVER.—Yesterday eft ern - A CCIDENT oN THE , Wh o "n, between three and four o clock, a party of youths eettopiad hired a small boat for an exce.rsion, when off Chel- Pistol ars iles, nearly facing Battersea Church, commenced rf o r',„'ng and splashing each other with their oars, and in so her "g capsized the boat. The whole of them, four in num tlee Were i mmersed; two of th em were. got out safely ; the and Others rose once, clinging to each other, when they sunk, th e Were not s een again ; every effort was made to recover ~, e b odies, bat without effect. le ee „. Nnv„,' - ',D-E'r.—EleGLA.elD v. SUR EtEY WITH THREE fe w -:. P LAYERS, —This match ended in favour of Surrey a ko, uln utes before three o 'cl oc k on S aturday, by 7 wickets. 41-„,`e---England, first innings, 86 ; second ditto, 77. Surrey, Vi [ innings, 106; second ditto, 58. Vi'(;l l3333 vERTisEmENT.] —THE RACES AND FETES.-- I tOrP3 to these fashionable resorts would d do well This p f ro- Rtaa themselves . with Rawland's e A si r s aO ro . gy at ! l t arid spirituous perfume refr and invigorates t r i a l; ro,Z during the heat and . dust of summer, and will be essential accompaniment for the opera, the public I . 4 ,::: i aßy, an d the promenade. In all cases of excitement, t ion, it will prove of great advantage Si teli ti cie, or over excl. ; 44.1.4 s a beverage, diluted with water. Price 3s. 6d per will also prove a most re freatir " Rowland's Kalyclo b r: complexion, dispelling the t d preparation for t ire " of langour and relaxat'on allaying all heat and i tbip, a atio LY, and immediately affording i the pleasing sen the anottending restored elestic i i , ty t a a n e d s a h n e d alt p h i f s u c l oi s o t r a a t t e ion o s f are ~le• Freckles, Tan, Spots, i m , tioe;-Lltetually prevented and eradicated,.' by its applica elyctsa,ckonr o i w n : ,cid aritei and in Cases of sunburn, stings led "' nation, infla n its virtues are un D Red. p • ed Per -..0 %1 . rice' d. and Bs. • i o :e r i s n a s l tide an d and song 20, Hatton-Garden, London ; l and y bottle. Sold by b A. Mists and Pert ' S. . m Perfumer;. ' h ere, arity, was London Tavern, Of this eh A . lll- 6 4 0 iP1TAL.—The anniversary festival iiis sxcellent dinner. held on Saturday at the 411 e ' llP°ll tue occasion, about 150 gentlemen sat down to The Earl of Carlisle presided, and, in ttio4llB44 haPPY manner, enforced the claims of . th l e i _t e l . 1 48 1:10 ,,, ° , 171 , Public benevolence. St. Mary's Hospita , 7h a i c n . eor e ,„ ''' u!en open for about a year, was built to afford by t'Cliation for 400 beds. and the object at present . sought 30 t o Fr°verners is to increase the number occupied ro i ligs 0 - f i t ) . . The chairman appealed to the charitable feel snin' aseeinielage with such effect that duri the teetneega subscriptions to the amount of 3,3001. were an ! alon e - '„ansl the hospital will henceforth take . its . rank arW, similar metropolitan institutions. Within the haad i o'4l-patients have been admitted 1,985 out-patients o I 'd' ' e ' "'nal patients have been relicved ; 2'2f poor ere ect ; ~,' ° lo is en have been attended in sickness at their own it e -te cL es Al . :. a4 }ng a total o f from 4,000 to 5,000 persons bene ,;otte -- 3;`,* Greene, M.P., Mr. ilemshead, General: de la '4 p v ,' "IT. kartineau Mr. George Bird took part in 4ntit.-ceedings of the evenng, which pasned off very pl9a of p . e;, The musical arrangements were under the direction 1, Nuith v. I , and Mr. Ilarker was toastmaster. luioittlEn-14a4811 SUBMARINE T.ELEGRAPIL—The cable I,`' o ta lD , - ,' "u "daY last between Holyhead and Howth weighed ‘ ,.' l ilire - I,', was 70 miles long and was submerged in eighteen 41arilielAga_thicese,:reatest exp , loit yet in connexion with sub , „. "' iieriaelatelAttgeTEß-ititIDGE.---It is stated in a Par- Abrar.7 u edge Paper printed on Saturday that a new tem y,4l..n, 5 w ould cost 12,0004 , and could be built in a To t A T ile grou'- have ol ts OP SCOTLAND —lt ;3 said that the rtlil not for present ars past been so numerous and la Yas they t -e red are at, and that the disease amougst 146 grouse in Argyleahire seems now to have entaely "tliged tself. THE -SUN, BENJAMIN DISRAELI. Since the death of George Canning, no more re markable instance has heel) witnessed of a man of the people elevating himself to the dignity of a Cabinet Minister than that afforded by the; career of the Right Honourable Gentleman, now her Miijesty's Chan cellor of the Exchequer. It becomes interesting., therefore, to trace the progress -of one who, withoutany adventitious assistance, has already in. tirr, flower of his manhood risen -from private lif e to public distinction —or, at Uay rate, - to observe the development of thus intellectual powers - which have at last constituted him one of the leaders of the Bri tish Government. Benjamin Disraeli, born in London during the December of 1805, is the descendant of one of those Hebrew families known by the venerable title of the Sephardim. According to the most simple definition - , the Sephardim where those among the children of Israel who never deserted the shores of the Mediterranean until driven thence by ad veree circumstances. The majority of these took up their abode in the cities of Aragon and Andalusie, where they continued to re-. side until expelled by the authority of Torquirnadaa The ancestors of the Member far Bhickirigham were, in this manner, compelled to emigrate from the Pe ninsula towards the eloee of the fifteenth century, in consequence of the extraordinary severities in flicted by the Inquieition. Thereupon they se lected the Venetian Republic for their place of residence, and—having assumed, instead of their Gothic surname, the more suggestive and appropriate one of Disraeli—flourished as merchants, under the banners cf St. Mark, for upwards of two centuries. A little more than a hundred years ago the great grandfather of the subject of this biographical sketch sent his youngest son Benjamin to these islands, in order that he might push his fortunes• under the shelter of a more liberal and enlightened system of administration. Mr. Pelham being then Prime Minister of England and favourably disposed towards the descendants of Abraham, . Benjamin Disraeli—grandfather of the present leader of the House of Commons—became, in 1748, an English denizen. Having married, in 1765, he appears to have ultimately settled down at Enfield in compara tive luxury. There it was that he continued for many years to amuse himself during the intervals of leisure snatched from commercial avoca tions sufficiently profitable in their results—occa sionally playing whist with Sir Horace Mann, or sauntering through an Italian garden he had planted, or eating macaroni prepared by the hand of the Venetian Consul—surviving until 1817, the year of his dissolution. There is a pleasant story told of the parent of Bartholdy, the composer, whose grandfather had previously been scarcely less renowned as a metaphysician—namely, that he used to remark not long before his decease, «I am , as it were, a link of mediocrity connecting together the genius of two distinct generations—in my youth I used to be pointed out as the son, as now in my old age I am pointed out As the-father of the Great Men. delesohn !" Although different in some respects, the position of Benjamin Disraeli the elder might in others have been somewhat analogous to the position of the elder Mendelesohn. At ninety ho was. cheered by the celebrity of .his son ; had he passed yet further. beyond the allotted age of man he might have -found still greater reason to exult in the reputation of his grandson. At the period of his arrival in England, about the middle of' the eighteenth century, ho had discovered in this country representatives of other families of the Sephardige such as the Medintie, and the Villa Reals, and the Lards (kinsmen of the Disreelie) and the Mendez da Costae. At the time of his demise, only the last mentioned are believed to have left survivors, whereas, with himself, his name has not only been perpetuated through two genera tions,-but imperishably inscribed upon the scroll of our national literature, and emblazoned even upon the records of the national administration. His son, Isaac Disraeli, besides giving to the world many other luminous volumes in which he analyzed with so much perspicacious subtlety of intelligence the joys, and the sorrows, and the pe. culiar and hitherto bewildering idiosyncracy of the student, has written the most classic miscellany in the language, " The Curiosities of Litera ture." Hi s grandson and namesake, on the other hand, has combined n b r illia nt success i n letters with the most undeniable triumph over the almost countless difficulties besetting a political gladiator in the arena of the Legislature. A popular novelist, he has, nevertheless, ventured to aspire to the highest offices within the grasp of a statesman— and, what is yet more, his aspirations have been's() far realized already, that ho is acknowledged to be perhaps, of' all, the most skilful debater in Par liament, while the chief of the new Cabinet testified in an extraordinary manner the sense entertained of his capacities when nominating him— (although hitherto principally celebrated as a romance writer)—Minister of Finance to the most wonderful commercial empire either of modern times or of the most enterprizing ages cf antiquity. During his minority Disraeli had not only travelled through the principle cities of Germany, but had pub lished his novel of Vivian Grey, which, by the freshness of its manner and the originality of its very imperti nence—girding as its stripling author had done throughout, sometimes at the most venerable foibles, and sometimes even at the most venerated absurdities of the social system—at once fixed upon him the attention, if it failed to secure to him per manently the admiration, of his contemporaries. The sparkling vivacity of the work rendered it " the rage" for more than one season and called forth a sequel, which extended it to five volumes altogether. Sub sequently, on attaining his majority, in 1826, he tra versed the classical ground of Italy and Greece, wit nessing some of the incidents of the civil war then desolating Albania. Haying wintered at - Con stantinople in 1829-30, he travelled - through Syria in the spring, crossing the desert into Egypt, and proceeding up the Nile until he had penetrated into Nubia. During these oriental wanderings he drained not unfrequent draughts of inspiration —but more peculiarly in the country regarded by him, not unnaturally, as his ancestral fatherland, the land which had been governed by the tetrarch and sung by the troubadour. - From these dreapas, however, he was recalled immediately on his return homewards, where, in 1831, he found the people of England agitated by the influence of a great political movement. It was at this time he aspired ineffectually to represent • the borough of Wycombe in the Hotir,m of Commons, the electors rejecting - him, from a preference for the two other Liberal candidates, notwithstanding thg • cir cumstance of Joseph Hume having introduced him to the notice' 'of the constituency Disraeli having thus, from his animosity towards the Whigs, associ a t e d his own name with thee of the veteran Reformer. Twice, he had the mortification of appearing on the local hustings in the character .of a discomfited candidate : and from a recollection of these incidents, we may presume that he turned With additional zest from the dusty highroad of politics' to the cool and sequestered garden of litera ture. Contarini Fleming appeared in 1833, and was designated a " Psychological • Romance." Appearing in the form of an autobiography, it en deavoured to pourtray the gradual and almost im perceptible development, not merely of a generous and passionate nature, but of an elevated and poetic temperament. It was suggested, we cannot but con jecture, not so much by the marvellous pages of Wilhelm Meister, as by that more sombre effu sion of the genius of Goethe, " The Sorrows of Werter," in which it is impossible not to discover the germ of what subsequently expanded into the Apprenticeship. There is discernible,. moreover, a wonderful resemblance between the diplomatic career of Werter before he first had the rapturous happiness of beholding Charlotte, and those passages in the life of Flemi ng w hi c h i nvo l ved him for a wh i le inoltahtt.he subordinate avocati ons o f G ove r nmen t volat e ility, and distaste for office, the same v and •the-. .same restive ' ness... There is a graceful reminiscence of Disraeli's own the c origino the gene a l ogy o f his hero—deriving n nameta i from o f Flemingt b e 'the Saxons and that of Venetia In In the yearning of the young c hild for N at t h , re when he exclaims " And I too will fly to Egeria the sylvan dream of:PninPl the author dreams again of the pure and the. beautuifg'ul_the ex qu i s i te d ream be imagines that the spiritof Egeria becomes When, h o w ev e r , incarnated in the woodlands h e d oes the visions of antiquity; antici more than revi ve erates those da h ing revelations "D'Outre Tonab'e," among . !ye' C - long after wards recognised the phantom seen w hich . was in soli tude, and loved with an unutterable andmore than earthly tenderness by Woe de Chateauhrianda Contarini's affection in his childhood for Chris tiana, and his attachment in his schooldays to the rustic Mumus, are described with singular intensity of feeling. His frantic fight in the play ground and his subsequent reflections are incidents depicted in colours s so marvellously true to nature, that it is evident the aut hor spoke in them from th e depths of his own emotional experience. More agree able than these are the vicissitudes of Fleming when he encounters the Chevalier de Winter, or, previously when he falls in with the itinerant actors, including the frolic Thalia and the pensive Melpomene. The most enthralling portioes of the narrative, however, are those which treat of the brigand expedition of the students, led by Contarini, terminating with the abandon m,?nt of the Castle in the Forest, and the journey under taken by the hero to Venice, ending in his elopement with Alcest6. In the course of his peregrinations he wanders, naturally enough, in the precincts of Par nassus. His tragedy he wisely baths in manuscript, a s is unhappily related of poor Gerald Griffin, the author of " Gissippue." His n ove l, entitled " ManstelD,. on the contrary, is published and widely circulated, but,' eulogised while anonymous, the author, when , once discovered, is deliberately " scarifi.d an d scalped" by the reviewers. The whole story e story terminates with _ an epicurean episode in his exisU nce at. Camila, closed by the death of Alceste and the desolation of Conterini. More remarkable in every rescrct then the for'egoing, production was The Wondrous Tale of Alroy, which appears to have been written almnst simultaneously, and which, al though replete in . several parts with rhetorical extravagance and overladen with the barbaric pomp of a gorgeous and even at times meretricious decoration—must ba considered. as perhaps the most remarkable contribution made by the younger Di:s rrieh's hand to the treasures of our romantic literature. Its style was a mistake—blending prose with rhythm, and interruptirg this rhythm with an occasional jingle of rhymer--a style calculated more than any other to alternate between the vapid and the hyperbolical. Otherwise "Alroy," in the splendour of its descriptions, might be regarded as the finest oriental fiction writ ten in our language since the incomparable "Vathek" of B,ckford. It was a noble and touching tribute, moreover, offered by' the romancist to the memory of his Hebrew ancestors—recounting, by events dating back to the twelfth century, the rise and fall of David Alroy, the Prince of the Captivity. The story opens, after an explanatory dialogue, in the burial-ground at Hamadan, by the side of this traditionary tomb of Esther and Mordecai. The time is evening, and the Jewish maidens come, ac cording to their national wont, to draw water at the fountain. They are insulted by the governor of the city, Alschiroeh, who is - slain upon the spot by David Alroy, the latter fly ing, not merely to save himself from destruction, but to wreak a more comprehensive vengeance upon the op pressors of the children of Abraham. Such is the dramatic commencement of a narrative which as it proceeds gathers interest as an avalanche gathers imt petus—carrying the attention onwards with it in breathless suspense until the moment of the crowning catastrophe. The Prince of the Captivity discovers Jabaster the Cabalist, and, being warned in his cave by the Daughter of the Voice (the. Beth Kul or Filia Vocic, according to the Rabbinical and Tal mudic annotators) advances towards the completion of his destinies. In crossing the wildernees, Alroy arrives at a ruined city, and while traversing its apparently deserted streets, is seized and carried before the Captain of the Robbers, Scherirab. Escaping from his captors, he is overtaken in the desert by the ainnorn, and saved from this yet more formidable peril by the Mecca Caravan returning to Bagdad, David is happily befriended in the latter city by Honain, the Sultan's Hakim or Physician. Honain, who proves to be the brother of Jabaster, conducts the Prince of the Captivity into the kiosk of the suburban garden of the palace, where he beholds the favourite daughter of the Caliph, the beautiful Princess Schirene. Assisted by the influence cf Honain, and protected by the talisman of Jabaster, Alroy at length suc ceeds •in reaching the object of his destioatioa— Jer usa l e m, There it is that, reposing one night in the tombs without the wall?, he listens to the ghouls conversing, penetrates the cread mysteries of the Cave of Genthesme, and thereby obtains, in spite of innumerable difficulties, the venerable and consecrated sceptre of Solomon. With this assur eance of ultimate victory in his possession, he speedily gains over to his cause the robber-captain Seherirah. His lawless followers are thereupon brought i n to something like discipline, and, incited by the valour of athletic ruffians like Kisloch the Kourd and Calidas the Indian, utterly rout the forces decoyed into the ruined city of the desert under the banners of Hasson Subab, the newly appointed Governor of Hamadan. Thereupon, King David makes his triumphal entry into Hamadan, where he is welcomed by his sister Miriam and his uncle Bostenay ; and subsequently takes possess i o n of Bagdad, where he is united i n marriage to the Princess Sehirene. Here, however, the crowning triumph is followed by a rapid and overwhelming catastrophe. Tee Prince of the Captivity, elevated into the King of brae!, dwindles into the Caliph of Bagdad. The hero de generates into the voluptuary. How the mar vellous suenesses of .Alroy are followed by , a series of terrible and (some of them) pre ternatural calamities; how the very meteors portend disaster by writing " Mene, Tekel, Upharsin" in the heavens with living thunderbolts; how Esther the Prophetess attempts the assassination of David at midnight, her dagger splintering into fragments against the talisman; how Jabaster is strangled while the serail is being destroyed by a confla gration; and how—most perilous of all—while the tempest is roaring over the palace roof the storm-bolt is heard clanging in the armoury, from which the sceptre of Solomon is found immeedately afterwards to have vanished—the original narrative can alone adequately describe. The fascination of the story towards its conclusion becomes altogether absorbing, and almost as irresistible as the downfall of the modern Sesostris. Flying into the wilderness during a brief interval after his discomfiture, Alroy is ultimately betrayed by Kisloch the Kourd and Calidas the Indian, being conducted to Bagdad as a prisoner. Confined in a subterraneous dungeon, the Lord of Asia there undergoes a variety of temp tations. Ultimately he is brought into the public square to expiate his former triumphs by being impaled before the Cadi and the King of Karasme. From this ap palling punishment, however, he is redeemed by so enraging Alp Arslan by his taunts that—dreading lest his once puissant antagonist may be snatched by his suspected sorceries from execution—the monarch strikes off the head of David Alroy with a single blow of his scimitar. Such is a rapid epitome of the gorgeous romance in which a descendant of a family of the Sephardim has celebrated the career of a Hebrew Adventurer. Its barbaric pomp is not the least appropriate characteristic of a narrative ss the glow oe w hich is a reflex f rom the Arabian Ni hts' E n t e rtainments. Over t h e s t irring fortunes of Alroy, hi s l o ve for the beautif ul S ch irene hangs like the r osea t e haze enveloping th e magic palace of Aladdin—investing with a new splendour the precious stones on the pavement, the ceilings of qi9cwcod, and . the columns of por phyry. The various passages relating to this tenderness between the Princess of Bagdad and the Prince of the Captivity are coloured with a truly oriental magnificence. The Love that inspired them, one might conjecture, was not the offspring of the Cyprian Venus, b u t the gaudy , and fantastic Monmadi, with a bow of sugarcane, and arrows tipped with flower s, sailin g among the branch es o f the palm and the c yp ress, w a beteen the wings of ra ther that liindoo Cu p id, parrot ! Singularly,inferior t o th e f ore going Was the next producion—given t o th e wor ld , w e cannot but think , in a ickunient wh en judgment was sufferi n g ecli p se from ambition. `.Cho must long since, a we be lieve, have repented the publication of the quarto volume entitled The Revoluti onar y L - 7 piek, regarding it, as he infallibly must, as the ill-fated fruit of an unlucky hallucination. Although the prefatory remarks commenced with the somewhat pretentious declaration, " It was. on the plains of Troy, that I first conc e iv e d th e id ea .of, this work," and closed with the seemingly arrogant assumption that if read aright it might " teach wisdom both to monarchs and to multitudes;" the writer, In another part of his ob servations, candidly and modestly confessed that, in the event of the " Epick" being condemned by his contemporaries, he should " without a pang hurl his lyre to Limbo." Three Books, constituting we may presume merely a quarter of the entire composition, were issued in 1834, since when no further instal ment has been demanded even by the curiosity of, the reviewers. Demogorgon is revealed upon a throne surrounded by oeleetial beings " with amethystine wings and starry crowns," in the opening of th,e poem, which sub?equently relates to the rivalry exercised on earth by hlsgros, the Genius of Feudal ism, and Lyridon, the Genius of Federalism.. The in terest, as was but natural, breaks down under the weight of a cumbrous allegory. Against its deadening and depressing influences are required either the elevating expansiveness of a faith like that of Bunyan, or the vivifying sensuousness of a genius like that of Speu ear. Discouraged as a poet, Disraeli adventured upon the more homely labours of a pamphleteer. In a letter addressed to a Noble and Learned Lord [meaning Lyndhurst] be pronounced what he designated on the title-page a Vindication ofthe English Constitution, the argument extending over upwards of 200 pages, and claiming for itself, not without reason, the importance of a political treatise. Besides vindicating the Eng lish Constitution, it comprised two subordinate yin. dications, namely a vindication (pp. 193.197) of the Tories, and a vindication (pp. 199.201) of Sir Robert Peel and his colleagues. :With a variety of shrewd comments upon the relative value and diversity of our institutions, the volume fails to combine what would have at once constituted it an authority—a concise and specific definition of the manifold forces of Government. Clever as one of the more remarkable among the " paper pellets" of Party, the l vo ume afforded no insight into what may be termed the science of political dynatnics During the same year which witnessed the ap pearance of his letter Disraeli be came a er to Lord Lyndhurst, 1835, candidate for the b o r ou gh of Taun ton, the Tories hav ing Once more resumed the reins of , government. Again 11' House of Commons provedattempt to enter the opponent, - Mr:: Laboucher signally obt unsuccessful,. his nearly two to one : but, :gat was a majority of yet more unfortu nate, the electioneering excitement collision with the Irish Liberatbrought him into Liberator, all but leading to duel, and productive of an angry a correspondence ending in a series of the most bitter tecrimioations Atlength, in 1837,Benjamin Disraeli, the n thi r t y - two, ' entered Parliament as the repreientative of Maidstone, W3,ndliam Lewis being his celleaguo in the repre sentatien of that Conservative. constituency. The failure of his maiden speech—extorting from him the prediction that the time would come when he would be listened to by the Members of the Legislature (reminding one of Sheridan's exclamation under similar c ir c umstances, " It is in me, end by it LONDON, _AIOND A y EVENING, JUNE shall come out I"), is not the least interesting among the many similar anecdotes connected with the English Parliament. Alreedy the time has arrived, arid the neappreciated Member of Maidstone hat, by his own Unaided abilities, come, at length, after fifteen years' experience in legislation, to be recognised as one of the most accomplished debaters living, to be representative of the shire for which John Elnerinden rat before the Cenamonwealth, t o b e a mem b er of' the Privy Council, the leader of the House of Commons, and her Majesty's Chancellor of the Exchequer. As he himself observes (" Tancred," B. IV., c. 11), " A failure is nothing ; it may be deserved, or it may be remedied: in the . first instance, it brings self-know ledge; in the second it develops a new combination, usually triumphant." His failure being of the second class produced accordingly a new combination, and that combination, it must be admitted, has proved un usually triumphant. A tragedy was the next literary effusion penned by Disraeli, who selected as the theme of his "five acts" the story narrated in the old Spanish ballad of " The Count Alarcos and the Infanta Solisa." Pub lished in 1839, Count Alarcos was dedicated to Lord Francis Egerton, 'now the Earl of Ellesmere. Fami liar though the ballad had been rendered, not merely by the accurate version of Dr. Bowring, but by the nervous acd impassioned paraphrase of ItireLockhart, it was agreeable to remark the skilful employment in a dramatic form of the materials analysed with so much subtlety by Bouterwek in his "History of Spa nish Literature." Whatever vagueness there was in the ballad became necessarily dissipated in the tragedy. Time and place had alike to be selected—the time chosen was the thirteenth century, the scene Burgos and its picturesque vicinity, Burgos being at that period the capital of the kingdom of Csstille. Among the characters introduced it is amusing to obterve the name of Sidonia, a name after wards rendered euffieiently famous by the pen of Disraeli as that of a Hebrew Crichton with the wealth of a Rothschild, the knowledge o f a Hum boldt, and the capacity for languages of a Mezzofante. Distinguished as the' year which witnessed the' appearance of his tragedy,lB39 was rendered more agreeably remarkable to the dramatist by witnessing his marriage with Mary Anne, daughter of J. Evans, Esquire, and relict of that Wyndham Lewis whom we have already mentioned as his Parliamentary col league. His happiness from this union he has him self gracefully celebrated by that tribute to 44 A per fect wife," which constitutes one of his most charming dedications. e - Returned for Shrewsbury in 1841, the author became more than ever assiduous in his application to Parliamentary buSinest, but fortunately th e M.P. did not altogether absorb the energies of the man of letters. Having thoroughly acqua i nted himself (by practice) with the qualities mo st acceptable in a novelist, Disraeli, nineteen year s a f ter the ep pearance of " Vivian Grey," and cons equent 4 when his faculties had been matured by his having doubled he age at which he first adventured into the literary arena, issued a work from the pre ss , which, by its immediate and sustained popularity, re d uce d all his previous successes to insign ificance. Ha had already written Henrietta Temple, a love story; he had written Venetia, in whi c h the genius of two ideal personages of the last gr eat age of Eng lish poetry had been again idealized ; and, i n a d d i tion to this, he had written The Young Duk e , t h e fore shadow, one might fancy it, of a s u b se q u e nt and more popular production. But the happiest; of all these efforts was surpassed in 1844, on the publication of Coningsby, designated, by an aftetaticle, "The New tieneration." Within three months fr om th e 'day of its appearance, three considerable editions an exten swi veer were e i r x c h u a l u a t s i t o e n d ' o a n i 1 d the b c e o e n id ti e n e e n e t a , th t h in e a wa secur e d d o i rle g fo r itself the exportation of ne lesi than 50,000 copies to the United States exclusively. It must be allowed that what obtained for " Coningsby" its almost instant reputation was the fact of its pages being crowded with sketches 9f well-known characters not less unmistakable than nithougt l t h e a n .. the caricatures of 11. 8., with as much eccent r i c i ty and as little exaggeration. Nor were the indi v id uals t t i h o u r : i p ts c e u lf rtr w a s y s ed ern si i m ne p n ly tly po p li o ti l c it i i a o n o s l , initstendency. Lucian Gay, whom " Naiure had , intended for a i scholar and a wit," but "Necessity had made a scrib bler and a buffoon," was no less true to the life than Messrs. Taper and Tadpole, and the rest of the mob of placehunters frequenting the lobbies at West. minster. But the merit of " Coningsby" is far from being restricted to that of mere exactitude in the resemblance traceable through these singularly cun ning delineations. People laughed heartily, of course, at that silhouette of the Right Hon. Nicholas Rigby, burnt in, so to speak, with lunar caustic—the pencil of your more unmerciful satirist. They were no less amused with his " harsh voice and arrogant manner" than with the courtly selfishness of that patrician sybarite the Marquess of Monmouth. Pleasantest of all the pleasant scenes in his new work, however, were those in which Disraeli described Coningsby and his stripling contemporaries at Eton—peopling the playgrounds and the green haunts of 'Windsor with such beings as Buckhurst, or as Lord Henry Sydney, or as Oswald Millbank, who is not sin gular, by the way, in regarding Harry Coningsby with a passionate and affectionate admira tion. The brief but animated account of their school days, terminates with a description of Montem, a description which, in its turn, closes with a warning . of evil days to the new generation. Several amusing interviews are at once prepared for Co ningsby, perhaps the most suggestive of which is the one accidentally held at the Adel hi Hotel, Man chester, with a gentleman whose train goes at Dad— extraordinar Peculi" Mr. G. 0. A. Head, of Staleyb r i dge. The meeting, however, between Coningsby and Sidonia mus t be e"hecenvmenet afterwards of a t r h d a s n be t t a e n r acquainted; dignified incident. withNv but i t t h h e name from rom Sidonia theowf moment of hi s reining in the "Daughter of the Star," at the forest tavern, arities of his character. it is not difficult to detect th e His pref erenc Y e at the frugal repast for perry and crusts, the c orn an d wine of England, gives the first inklin g o f h• originality. Corn and wine, he remind s c • is have been deified but the haveChineseolllDgaby, never raised temples to tea, nor the Irish otatoes. Then his declamation Upon the text__ " Genus top when young is divine"—deriving the i llustrations of 'ts 1- accuracy from the careers of su c h Youthful heroes as Hannibal or Napoleon, as G;ssto t 1 de F t e x or Gus tevus Adolphus! And last of ail the announcement ef his religion at the porch of the farm-house when departing—" I am of the faith that the Apostles pro fessed before they followed their m ast a, All are indications consonant with the nature ea.. • . of Sidonia, as later ou revealed—in Sequin Court as the realest financier in Europe, and in Carlton Gardengs as the luxurious but not eft urinated l ie Inii-- "lr Clever as the political sketches in " Coningte 0 , . . , a are with the cleverness of what usually degenerates into a heartless ex perience, the love passages have about them all the freshness of youth and the animation of romance. We remember few more exquisite Ece nos expressive of the master-passion than that in the fi shi t , in the Hellingsley, where,deliciousness ng cottrge at of the sylvan solitude and in the midst of the.... "Sound of vernal showers On the twinkling grassaen the hero reveals his _devotien t o the heroine—Edith Millbank. The droll embarrassment barrasatnent ensuing on their return, having kept the di nner waiting un only im p arts conscionably, an additional and by no means disagreeable piquancy to t h at Pion of' the narrative. Among the he startlingt occurrentes which lend their attraction to the story, o i l.y , 111°8e depicted with the liveliest spirit are—the tssappohatrnents caused by the marriage of the Marquess i of I\i --ulrunout with the Princess Lucretia Co mutt : the thunder-storm driving Oswald with Harry to the castle, eta ,eh ere they are discovered, regaling themselves, by' M Rb the misapprehended interview et , ' Edith -g a y iar Sidonia during , the ball in the Paubour St. Germain : and, above all, the nag.. dent immediately preceding that f esti 47 7 ' when Lady Monmouth is thrown from her carriage Avenue MarignY• Nothing can be nl,-, in the more admirably finished than the last-mentioned description-- Marquess the Marquess preeerving his courtly self- /308 ,4 3 '1 6n 1 with wonderful equaninaiten while Lucretia is a "vving her tender sentiments towards `Sidonia. Altogether the Marquess of Monmouth is in the whole work the most , ingeniously elaborated delineation. Every g every attitude, every syllable is scru pulously,y but without an effort, charact eristic. A selfish voluptuary from the commence ment princely withal in bis but manners of the "grande seigneur," habits, he has the and the temperam ent of an epicurean. He receives his grandson for the first time with the bow of Louis Quatorze : and if h e i s assisted up a flight of steps at Paris by " La Petite," it is with an acknowledgment of no less punc tilious courtesy. Hence, to the unravelment of the plot, the reader suspects an not for an instant i that Mademoiselle Flora s no other than Lord Monmouth's natural daughter by M the Theatre 1 ,rancario Estelle Mstfeau, an actress of. is eie—the impression throng bout being teat she the c hild of Once only the heart of th e perceptiblythe In an seems to throb somewhat lt is when Harry, robe of the luxurious patrician. the having. arrived arrived at Coningsby Castle, greets distinguished Marquessin the midst of a crowded and d oudo, assembly,rande with the inquiry—" How author with with gsubtle sense ?" a Yet even then, says the portraiture, "It would be of truthfulness in the rd Monmouth's he ar t was that Lo exaggeration to say totiched—his good nature 'effervesced and his fine Proud of the h an d some taste was deeply gratified." firms round Coningsby with st4ling, he places his 11 - ld haveu become the 44 a dignity of affection" that would onboth ‘ "Grande Monarque," kissing rim St. G • cheeks with unwonted cordiality. It is at Benevieve, the residence of Eustacelyle, situated near eatunanoir, > and in the thick of the revels at Christ mas, when ' be is bearing the boar's hero through the hall to the chautipg of the old Latin versiclee, that Coningeby receives a letter an nouncing the death of his grandsath er . Thereupon ensues the readin g o f th at extr aordinary will the original of which not many years isn back was " the "r talk" of all Mayfair and the side of Bsl- thorn a th gravia. Deprived of his expected inheritance, ningeby is consoled by the reflection that he Cnaas vlsuggested neithsr lost aa arm nor a front t oo th, as Sidopia. Utterly , iti iii by down in the wor ld, his name erased from the clubs, his horses sold by auction himself a student in the Temple, and — cut b auncigbta —a ray of light suddenly dawns upon th e riero on e Rigby evening through a " third edition" of Th e S un, wherein he finds that Mr. Millbank has proposed him as Member for Dartford. Ultimately the unfortu nate Rigby is defeated, and Coningsby shortly after wards, having hurried down with Oswald, enter. the town ea •the successful candidate, "like Paulus Emilius returning from Macedon." The narrative terminates with his marriage with Edith,' and Flora, dying almost before the honeymoon has elapsed, leaves the whole of her wealth to the young Mereber of Parliament. " Coningsbv" was followed, in 1845, by Sybil, or " The Two Nations," a fiction of a loftier purpose, illustrative not only of the diversities of party, but of the civic agonies of the poor, and of the social privations and political miseries of an entire population. Beginning as the story does, with the gambling at the West-end, in the spring of 1837, im mediately before the winning of the Derby bY Poos phorus, the reader is startled by the motley scenes of wretchedness afterwards opened up to examination. Almost every phase of society finds in "Sybil" its appropriate representative. Almost every moral Wain in the community is laid bare to our abhorrence. Guided by the novelist, we penetrate the drawiug rooms of Mowbray Castle, where Altamont Belvidere Fitz-warene flsurhdies with his two sandy daughters, the Ladies Mewl and Joan, the - latter ugly and doctrinal, the former rather pretty but inquisitive : or wander into the Cat And Fiddle, where Chaffing Jack, the Landlord, has manufactured the Temple of th©, Muses out of stucco, plate glass, gilding, and veneer. We wander under the same spell—a spell more powerful than that of a romanoist, the spell of a minute delineator of reality—through the squalor of the rural town of Marney, hard by the Abbey ruins, where the priors of another century had withstood the encroachments of pauperism by their blending of thrift and munifi cence. We travel into the mining districts even as far as the heathenish town of Wodgate, where surely it were infinitely better to send missionaries than to the wilds of Patagonia. We behold the selfishness of the " batty" or middleman, the knaveries of the " doggy" or manager, and the, sordid influence of the " tommy" or truck-shop, where the scanty wages are doled out in goods cf the worst imaginable descrip tion. .We inspect the mills; we attend a torchlight meeting ; we take part in the trades' union; we are involved at one moment in a street row, and at another in a general insurrection. The manifold wants and the multiform woes of the industrious are here enumerated with the eloquence of one who has observed with no superficial glance the aspirations of the age and the peculiarities of the existing generation. What Disraeli unsuccessfully attempted iu his "Epick" he ac complished in "Sybil"—he therein depicted not merely " the age and body of the time" in vivid colours, but described with occesionelly almost painful distinctness "its form and pressure." With all its tragic elements, the fiction was nevertheless as remarkable far vivacity as its predecessor—possibly, on occasion, more remark able. The denizens of Belgravia moved its gaily though in a more sombre atmosphere : and the epi grammatic wit with which each person was sketched iu a sentence, or an epithet, rendered the work no less acceptable than . " Coningsby" to the admirers of what is merely sparkling in light literature. WaltelaGerard, the father of Sybil, although an h um ble workman at Mr. Trafford's factory, is recognised from the first as one of nature's gentlemen : but not so Lord Marney, "a man who was conscious you were trying to take him in, and rather respected you for it, but the working of whose cold unkind eye defied you," and from, whom accordingly you shrink instinctively, notwithstanding the allurements of the ermine and the coronet ! Disagreeable though several of the patrician cha racters are represented as being, others of course are proportionably delightful—from Alfred Mountches ney " the Cupid of Mayfair," to Captain Grouse, strutting over the product of the looms of Axminster "in very tight pantaloons to show his very celebrated legs;" from Kremlin "who had only one idea—and that was wrong," to Wriggle "who went with the times, but took particular good care to ascertain their complexion ;" from Floatwell who swore by Lord Dunderhead, to Mr. Ormsby, demurely observing, as a diplomatist moves past highly starred and rib boned, " The only stars I have got are four stars in India stock." Several of the plebeian characters introduced are scarcely less attractive. Poor Devilsdust, "dark and melancholy," at once secures our interest, while Dandy Mick Radley, "as brilliant as his com plexion," on the instant of his appearance commands our sympathy. About the most original creation in the three volumes, is unquestionably Baptist Hatton, the heraldic antiquary of the Inner Temple, who— strange to tell—can accept as his guiding principle, the old maxim of the Church, " Qui laborat, °rat," even when munching his devilled biscuit at his favourite table in the Athenaeum. As unquestion ably, the most detestable personage in the woik is Stephen Morley, the Secretary of the Mowbray Tee total Association, and editor of the local newspaper. His infamy towards the conclusion of the narrative, when betraying his intimate friend in a kind of impish vengeance for the rejection of his suit by the daughter is almost too painful for contemplation. Even the minor characters introduced, such as Mother Carey the costermonger, or as Mr. St. Lys the good vicar of Mowbray, or as Harriet the child of the handloom weaver, are ocecasion ally sketched with a singularly nice discri minetion. Among these, is pleasantly conspicuous Sir Vavaseur Firebrace, ever enthusiastic in his ad vocacy of the rights of baronets', and ever babbling about his badge, his collar of SS, his sword, his gilt spurs, and his plume of white feathers. Pre eminently distinguis'aable, however, in the midst of all the motley figures crowded in artistic groupes into the canvass are—the younger brother of Lord Maruey, the gentle-hearted and chivalric Charles Egremont, and Sybil (with whom he is of course ultimately united), queen-like in beauty, and angelic in benefi cence, wandering through regions of crime and squa lor, attended only by Harold the bloodhound. Al though the writer discourses at times, as the nature of his undertaking required, about twaddlers like Bembaetes Rip, and about such themes of tedium as debates in the House, when " Wislay is up, and Washy follows," the narrative repeatedly becomes in vested with an absorbing interest, rising at inter , vals into a strain of solemn and pathetic eloquence. • The closing passage of the first book, relating to the young Queen's accession is, in this manner, elevated to the dignity of a noble and affecting peroration. Enthralling though other in cidents in the fiction undoubtedly are, such, for ex ample, as the quarrel between Lord Marney and his brother Egremont, or es the frightful scene in the Tommy shop kept by Diggs, where an unfortunate boy falls a victim to Master Joseph's tyranny, or as the yet more frightful scene where this same Tommy shop and its keepers are burnt in a spirit of hideous retribution, the most powerfully described of all is that relating to the crowning misfortunes of Sybil (B. IV., c. 4), beginning " The clock of St. John's Church struck three, and the clock of St. John's Church struck four; and the fifth hour sounded from St. Joan's Church; and the clock of St. John's was s ounding six—and Gerard had not yet returned." His daughter is waiting for him in their lodgings in Westminster, panic-stricken lest some calamity may have befallen the leader of the popular movement. After an odious interview with Morley, followed by the consequences already mentioned, Sybil, maddened with fear for her father, goes in search of him to warn him against some impending calamity. Accompanying her in her midnight expedition through the streets of London, the reader watches the course pursued by Sybil with a feeling of breathless p tre idation. Every s circum- stance in her prog ress a pp ears at first environed with impassable and insurmountable difficulties, from the impertinence of the waiter in the Coffee-house kept by Tanner, where she tis at length reluctantly directed to " 22, ucnb street going out of Silver-street," or thefrota ast w h ee l flying off in the centre cf one of the most abandoned rooker ies, to the pro p osition made b y Solin- t terlegs and and Hell-fire Dick to carry her ay ts. Mother Poppy's, until her despairing ejaoul tion, " 0 holy virgin aid me!" secures for her whose the assistance of a poor Irishman heart warms on discovering in her a eistersCatholic. The passi onate interest of the whole adve nture is ab sorbing, up to the arrest of 11Saclast, Wilkins, and Gerard, and the ir conveyance, together to the with Sybil, to the Bow s treet Police-station. As a climax trag i c oc currences in the story, comes the general riot leading to the inc ursion of the mob into Mow tack upon Mowbray Castle, at Mow bray-park and th eir where Morley is killed in the muniment room, and Lord Mainey stoned to death at the head of his yeomanry. While the building is still roaring and Sybil rescued by Egre is crackling in the f lames, Egre mont. Such are the romantic and yet homely ele ments of which the fiction is composed—a fiction which has legibly stamped upon it the imprint of an age the matrix of which . was a revolution. There was a wonder ful felicity in the very motto affixed to th e tatlepage of Sybil, a sentence culled from old Bishop Latimer, "The Communalty murmured, and s a id, There never were ,, so many Gentlem en , an d so little Gentleness.' It was one among the bitterest evils of the time, and one therefore to which the novelist did wisely, as we ll as generously, in giving utterance, Instead of effecting 7, 1852. this, moreover, by setting class against class, he ac• complished hispurpo4s more effectuelly by imparting simultaneously to the poor and the rich a better ap • preciation of each ether —revelling the pure in the midst cf the sordid and the heart under the ermine, Returned to the House of Commons, at the general election of 1847, as knight of the shire for Bucking ham, Disreeii, in the same year, published hi s nove l of Tancred, otherwise celled " The ISL,w Crusade," a work expressing some of his most cheriehed views upon religion and some of the loftiest among his po litical aspirations. Incongruous though its materitls were, and though they were in some measure COl4- necte3 somewhat inartistically, the work nevertheless commanded attention by its singularity; while it won respect by its enthusiasm. Beginning with the " chefs de cuisine" of Mayfaii, with PapaPrevost and his Pupil Leander, the story wanders off to such e in Du t k he e a n n li a gh li ty at a h n a d ia pu , is t s h an e t D pe u rs c o h n e a ts ges of as ß G 6i e l o a r ru g u e n t t h , person .of whose only son is discovered the hero Tancred, Marquess of . Mentacute. Thereupon, rov ing into the high circles, where we are again intro dam' to severel of our favourites in " Sybil" awl inetO3tribiel*rsebmYo'it'ente6L-lohfr-E'thadooAf.eiteetc narrstiva strays off among the '" fie flier faces" seen before our departure for P a l est i ne, is that of Eclit - h— . steareeely transmuted into a sar cas tic lady, who can "-desjihe in a rentenee and pers - o f r o li l f d y ea in pac a it he " s employment of this two - P a e ti c h e satirist, t th h e author bieutelf proves in Tancred tha Y t h 8 more than ever a proficient. Speakiete ‘ s' o; Z. ln dy e Valentine, for example, 'he depicts her e p e e amusing fashion, as a persona ge " w h o had one:,btel2elri a beauty, with the reputation of a wit, and now set up for being a wit on the reput a ti on o f having been at laauty ;" while of Lady Hampshire he contents" him self wi:h remarking thet she s' spoke in a sawn... voice of factitious eet'ausiasm.' As a c out ;l Y e of titled "parvenue," Lord and Lady Mount joy are is like manner branded as persons " who, with a largo fortune, lived in a wrong square, and asked to their house everybody, who was nobody." ~ Colonel Brace is humor o u s ly de lineated as " robust, a little portly, hut, well-buckled, still presenting' a grand military figure," while the clever and beautiful Lady Constance Rawleig-b, who is said to have "guanoed her mind with French novels.," is described as having possessed the reputation of • " breathing scorpions as well as brilliants and roses." Even ilillel Besso, although an Asiatic, and, what is more, a Caucasian, does not escape the accusation of " uttering common-places, as if they were poignant originalities." It is in the more serious portions of the romance, however, that its principal attraction is discoverable, where the writer illustrates anew with an impassioned and persuasive rhetoric his sympathies for that sacred tied ancient race of whose descendants he had already mournfully asserted that they had too long " lalocured under the odium end stigma of me-, diseval malevolence." His veneration for the memory of his forefathers way surely be compre hended by those who, like the Gentile nations of Christendom, are indebted to the Hebrew prophets for tee light, and the music, end the poetry of so many august revelations. Renaiud ing his readers how profoundly they are under obli gations to the children of the Chaldean Abraham, the author, himself a descendant of the Sephardim, conducts his hero to the tomb where the Prince of the house of David has for eighteen centuries been adored by nilgrirns from the remotest quarters of the earth, in Jerusalem. Tancred adventures upon his "new crusade," impelled by a sense of those lofty Asian principles which Disraeli had already designated as "of divine origin and of universal and eternal ap plication." His exploits carry him not only into the. desert but into Damascus, bringing him into contact with the I)ruse, and the Bedoueen, and the Moronity, besides conducting him to the mountain palaces of the Lebanon, and at lest even as far as the see:uded cities of the Ansayrii. By a singular coincidence, almost.. immediately after the appearance of " T a n_ creel," a young officer in the British Navy, the Hon. Frederick Walpole, penetrated for the first time those regions which had been hitherto inexorably closed against an European. Describing the Ae seee ll principally, therefore, if not altogether, from conjecture, the novelist ' acquitted himself of the task with ea amity. Sometimes, however, his guesses at the reality have proved, of course, erro neous; as, for instance, in reftrence to the theology of the Syrian Chinese. The worship of the Ansayrii appears unhappily to be somewhat more obscene than that which would have induced them to adore, ac cording to the graceful supposition of Disraeli, the beautiful and majestic divinities of Olympus. As an episode to the main story, the his tory of the Family of Baroni is eminently ingenious, developing at once the idea of Sidonia's character and of the importance of the Hebrew race-, übiquitous in spite of persecution, and flourishing al though expatriated—that venerable race, out of which grew originally, like the leaves, and the flowers, and the fruit of a tree, the virtues, and the precepts, and the beneficence of Christianity. " Nulla Silva talem profert Fronde,'flore, germine!" Principally because of its earnest advocacy of the race of his progenitors, " Tancred" may be said to have confirmed rather than extended its author's reputation. Its abrupt conclusion destroyed the interest it might otherwise have retained; insomuch that, in spite of their beauty, little is cared, on closing the last volume, for either Eva or Astarte, the destinies of the heroines being left altogether in a state of indecieion. In 1849 a Life of Isaac Disraeli appeared as on hi troductory chapter to his delightful "Curiosities of Literature." Although o f course necessarily b r i e f, restricted, indeed, within the compass of a moderate Pamphlet (pp. 63), it constitutes one of the most charming of all our author's compositions. As a tribute to the memory of a father, declared to have been without" a single passion or prejudice," it se cures a respect which, before the concluding pa ssag e s are read, has become heightened into admiration. At the commencement of this literary biography, the memorialist has written, among others, two golden sentences, true in significance and beautiful in ex pre,,ion_e The pen is a weapon as puissant as the sword "—" A book may be as great a thing es a battle"—reminding us that the life of Shekspere, for example, would not be less interesting or less valuable than that of Alexander. After recounting hew his father, before the age of fifteen, had dipped in Boyle and Voltaire, remaining for an interval at Amsterdam, under a to or, who was e a great impostor," th e bi ograp h er records the retain of Isaac Disraeli to England, where eighteen—a disciple of Rousseau. Here, moreover, is mentioned that teuchin,, ,, incident so s imply . and yet so exquisitely told, of the poem submitted to the judgme )t of Dr. Johnson by th e f u t ure au th o r of the " Curiosities of Literature." It occurred after his return in 1788 from his travels in France — when he left the manuscript himself, at Bolt-court, in the bands of Mr. Francis Barber, the Doctor's black servant, and on calling a week later for - the reply, had the packet returned unopened. Isaac Disraeli was informed that the Doctor was too ill to read any communication. He paeeed out into Fleet street, anxious and doubtful. "Alas !" exclaims . his son in recounting the circumstance, " the cause was too true ; and a few weeks after, on that bed beside which the voice of Mr. Burke fal tered, and the tender spirit of Bennett Langton was ever vigilant, the great soul of Johnson quitted ' earth." By Leis graceful memorial of Disraeli the Elder, Disraeli the Younger proved himself emi nently qualified in a literary sense, to produce in 1851 his latest work, entitled Lord George Bentinck: a political biography. During several years previously he had qualified himself, in other respects, to compile a volume censiAiog chh fly of the record of events in which he himself bad prominently participated • A sup porter of Sir Robert Peel's Government for some time, he ultimately withdrew from the encouragement o f Cabinet which he boldly. reprobated as 4 t a au orEanized hypocrisy." It was not so much the policy com menced in 1842 which estranged him from those who st ill owned allegiance to that illustrious statesman, as D it was the very method, according to which, ' 111 by his celebrated Tamworth Manifesto, Siro that it i 11 1834 ' may be said to have created the systemfisrael Robert Conser vatism. Alluding to that document, o bserved in Coningsby (Book 11., e. 5 46 an attempt to constr uc t a party without was its basis, therefore, was necessarily _principles ; Latitudina rianism ; and its inevitable consequence Political Infidelity." Instead of a has been experiment like that, he declared himself to he enamoured with the Toryism " breathed in the intrepid eloquence and patriot reathed in William. Wyndham," the Toryism soul of believed to be " vindicated • Which he tenc " es by the "fervent arguments golden sen tences" by of Bolingbroke. Smitten with and impassioned ideal of his political day-dreams with love for this be, by the very sense of the brilla'rld incited, it may his enterprize, the Member fur y and daring of menced in mu those memorable r ackingham come Prime Minister which eventuallyattacks upon the from the administration. For the led to his retirement the acerbity of these attacks, in which every sentence" had the point of an epigram, Disra e li h as since the de a th o f his magnanimously compensated groat antagonist by a generous tribute to his genius,r Yet—as , • expressed i n th e l ang uage of ad miration.— Wilmot stays in the Comedy— " 'Gad, if I were a c statesman' I'd rather, instead, Have the epitaph living— the epigram dead. „ Howbeit, thosepolitical biography of passages iu the Lord George Bentin k in character of Sir Robert Peel is discriminated are the seiacei7less ad. mirable than the portions of the same work relating to the gallant •heerted and chivalrous leader of the Protectionists. If there is one peculiarity, however, more cen ~ --- -sPi ; cuous than another in the tempera iner" of the present Chancel lor of the Ex chequer, it is that of a magnanimous ap preciation. of his ParlianaGutary antagonists. Witness this, not merely his panegyric cn Sir Robert Peel, but his noble eulogium on Lord Palmerston in one of the chapters of " Tancrecl," and his graceful hat earnest encomium on Mr. Hume in the earlier pages of his latest coinpa,‘.ition. As the utterance of friend. ship for one prematurely snatched from lifo,this vo lume must he regarded in the literature of politics, as not less touchingly commemorative than, in poetry, were the " Lycida.s" of Milton, the " Adonais " of Shelley, or the " In Memoriam" of Tennyson. Among the miscellaneous productions of Disraeli— besides the opening number of a daily newspaper, under his editorship, entitled The Representative—. must be enumerated, of course, his electioneering Addresses to his Constituents, and those Speeches deli- vered in the House of Commons which were subse quently revised for separate publication. From these, hardly less frequently than from his more pretentious effusions, might be culled evidences of his genius as a wit, and his ability as a satirist. Several of his ready phrases—nicknames, some of them as humorous as those of O'Connell, without revealing the slightest tincture cf vulgarity—have stuck like burrs in the popular remembrance. In this manner his allu sion to Lord Melbourne as " The Arch• Me 3iocrity," hs.s not been forgotter, tiny more than his mock respectful reference to a wellhknown ennalist—(according to some more vosluminous then ltuninous)—as "Mr. Wordy the Historian." Neither is his epithet for Italicised Writers, that of "The Forcible Feebles," lost to recollection, any more than his calling the Derby " The Blue Ribbon of the Turf," or his designating Honsard "The Duncisd of Politics." Not unacqueetly, moreover, the sparkling sentence will he found accompanied by come other of a more sober - complexion thoughtful and sententious. What can be finer in this respect, than that remark in " Coningeby" ( 13 , VII , c. 2.), " Life is too short to be little," or then that passage in " Sybil," where he terms the youth posterity ? " If we yve:- ) e f , areieTutii°reud;h‘ "the trustees adduce of a crowning that Lon;ion, with testimony or our author's capacitytas a wit—we should et once refer to that suggestion " Tancred " ( 8 - ne c 10) with which he follows up his lamenta tionvoid of the attribute of - - " great city is the type or architecture!. It grandeur, either topographical its vastness, is wholly de occurs after a reflection some what similar to his mark in a previous work, that Tv,, 1), as Paris of of seine great idea" (Con. Faith. Whereupon, alluudsinof Rome of Conquest. even now investing our Athae"&" , London of Commerce, writes—_" Art, end Jerusalem of nu t: to r the possibility of o from boa t s h t e ed dNepaoss-iy tmoifoitaiismtnr9afitiositn:;-: coelfebsetijuelsdti.ce Even ntes with an aspect wile pu sh re o s t t an a ad d. - ne never achieved a great victory u u nt r il inspiration ect w ere aswe t m i o i ad miral. a . . Terror Suppose flay e ins r c as comp et t e hang e d ?" Than this we know scarcely any more delightful of wit—an example perfect of it s kind, bet:Ramp,Ple ductive of precisely that surprise which i s declared forts(); essential by the more subtle among our metaphysicians. In addition to the various writings already enume rated, there are others which, from internal evidence, tend to prove that Disraeli has given play to his industry under the shadow of the anonymous. H e has long been regstded as the reputed author of The Letters of Runnymede, of The Gallomania, and of The Spirit of IVhiggism, together with other papers, which would seem to reveal his skill as a pam phleteer. Any further development of these politico-litsrery capacities, it is to be feared, is hopeless, now that the writer of fiction for the people has been nominated a Privy Councillor by his Sovereign.. The novelist has thrown aside the pen which was the wand of hiss divination, and has tsken up instead the red box of the Chancellor of the Exchequer. And while his literary admirers may leave been remitting Rith Horace— " Car ponder , tnci;a tistule cum Iva?" his Parliamentary followers were listening on the 30th of ApciJ, 1852—the year in which Benjamin Disraeli became a Cabinet Minister, and in which he was thereupon elected for the second time representative of the county of Buokiogham—to his first, and, in many respects, masterly Financial State ment. Leader of the Howse of Commons, under the Derby Administration, the Right Hon. Gentleman is one of the most popular membeee in that the popular branch of Parliament. His interest is with the tyro and his sympathy with the aspirant. As he has written of his own Sidonia—" he Eked to give ability of all kinds its scope : nothing was more apt to make him melancholy than to beer cf persons of talent dying without baying their chance"—he might have written of himself with truth, if not altogether without arro gance, according to the feeling generally entertained in the Lower House of the Legislature, Beginning life as the son of a secladedscholar, Ben jamin Disraeli has already in the bloom of his maturity, by his own unassisted abilities, rendered himself so far distinguished among the public men of our gene ration as to become Leader of the English House of GAIIMOTIS and, in many respects, the presiding Intel lect in the councils of the British Government. To the superficial this might appear to be the crowning epoch of a career, marked throughout rather by its successes than by its vicissitudes. The discerning, however, must view it, on the contrary, as a com mencement instead of a consummation. The man of letters who has fixed the attention of his contempo raries may now secure to himself the grateful re membrance of posterity—by revealing sagacity as a statesman end patriotism as an administrator. Master of his position, he has at this moment within his grasp a rare end golden opportunity. r. HAYMARKET THEATRE. -- A piece of unadulterated, extravagant, screaming fun was produced on Saturday evening under the extraordinary appellation of Keeley worried by being testified by continuous roars of laughter from beginning to end. The intense comi cality of the thing resulted from the oddity of Keeley and Buckstone personating themselves, appearing in their own individualities on the stage. The former is the victim, the latter the tormentor. The victim being aggrieved -by the imposition of a fine, for politely inquiriug how muck the prompter—a great authority, in the French sense of the, word, behind the scenes—would charge for being called a muff secedes from a theatre, and gives himself up to the enjoy.. ment of a species of pastoral and semi-hermitical solitude in Brompton-square. Where Mrs. Keeley is we do not for a moment dare to inquire; but if she does not appear, M r . , Buckstone does, and dire is the uproar he contrives; making love to a lady out of Mr. flKinegeilneyg'sthwiningdsovroust—, of Window, which what is Mrs. Keeley possibly to think ?—altering the principal whole disposition of Mr. Keeley's furniture in the moat to be summoned by a bwrhoilecehr'se-ainusean;l..ilier. fashion;Keeley vigilant police ; causing that small but intrel.id comedian to think that he hits been struck deaf—" a poor deaf devil'" I, making believe to speak'and not utter a word ; and, finally, ---5' b-ing challenged by the jastly-indignant Keeley to duel—place Weybridge—means of conveyance, laght a which one is to ride outside, the other in — an d the a p witness to be, a noted old cock-pheasant I artists, with the addition of Mr. Clerk as j Ilow these servant, sustain themselves let the rest' - nob Keeley's glorious stage frolic, which we believe has 'er ullagille ' This Mr. Mark Lemon and Mr. Webster,been concocted by must predated, and is sure to attract be sees to be - to the Haymarket. crowds for m ap any an e __ ..........„—____ Ferring HER MAJESTY'S I'IIEATRE.—Her RoTel Highness the Duchess of Kent, attended by Lad Suffield, Lady Fanny Howard, Sir George Couper, and Lord y J es Murray, honoured the performances at her Majesty'a Theatre, on Saturday evening, with her presence. 11 r Royal Hi hnese ness the Princess Mary the Duchess of Cambridge, accompanied by e ber'Royalgifigh theatre with her presence on thi4 ge' ' 'n Their Royal Royal Highness the Duke of Cambrid n attended by Highnesses were attended by the of Camb-id alq hoioured the t c a c r a o siorL esebeck. Hi s the Hon. James Macdonald, individuals also p ge er 'sent. Amongst the noble and distinguished individuals also visiting the theatre were the following a---Ilis Grace the Duke of wellington an_d, the Marquis of Ailesbury, the Eight Hon. the Chancellor 01 Donegal, the Marchioness the Exchequer and Mrs. 13. Disraeli. the Duke "d Duke of of Bedford, the Duke and Duchess of Leinster, the of Cleveland, the Mauis a Clanricarde, the Marquis the Earl and Major -.. dale, the Earl Countess of Stamford, the Earl of Lolaseibunie, the Earl and Countess of Glen g all, the Earl n ofShelburne, Hon. the Secre- Mountcharles, Viscount Anson, the Bightq, of Malmesbury, tary for Foreign Affairs, and the Countess Lord Ward, &c. of Go` nvnhgam , —e .ENT'S-PATIK.-- The second ex hibi t i on o f American ROYAL B OTANICAL GArLD---- .. t REG took n ence of the unfavourabl e p gardens on Saturday. In nu „, ae —' rem" days of exhibition, th e flowers place at these state of th e wea th er on the - better attended than is usually gardens on this occasion weredays. The great attraction of the case upon the America n s though the collection of rhododen dronsh not yet fully blown, were the day, in respect vr of h tl ic r . flowers, and azaleas, fragrance of the different flowers beautiful. The exceedingly beau A mo ngst the company present ware in bloom was delicious. e h Duke of Beaufort, the Earl of Stam the Duke of Norfolk, t_ I Murchiscra Major-General Bourchier, ieuteuant-General Sir John Doveton, hester, Lord Blaney, Lady Desert, Lady the Bishop °I edShelburne, Sir Charles Slingsby, Lieute- Adela Norton, Lo., f L o a rd dy an m d a Nt i r s n i fteit _L . Bowater, Hon. Lady Hislop, Sir James Lnshington, ike. MR. ROtBUCK...— Our readers will ILarass or measure of regret which cannot exceed that learn with. a e make the melancholy announcemen—that with which v.,. so seriously ill as to create no small anxiety Mr. Roebuck is on the part of friends kis f • ds. Under the most favourableresult on it is to be feared that there is little nant-General Sir E. as to the probability me the active duties of Parliamentary . or public able to resume we are sorry to say, been visited with a para lyticaffection,l"ilas, which, at any rate for the present, entirely life. r f e the Honourable . Gentleman ever again being a unfits THE GREAT EXHIBITION.-- SELOUS' PICTURE OF . . deserved well a vivid reproduction. The opening ceremony . him for attending to business of any kind.—Advertiser. by the of Messrs. Lloyd, Brothers,Co.,and Co. all is accomplished in stance • linmer's art, and in this picture, painted . at the persons is set before us as palpably as on the memorable Ist that could be desired., A group of nearly 100 illustrious Of May. As a painting, few will deny their weed of appro bation; but probably more will look critically at the por traits, and these, we venture to affirm, will bear their strict est scrutiny. All have been taken at sittings kindly given, from her Majesty downward:, and the result is not alone a fine work of art, but a memorial valuable because truthful. The Master and Wardens of the Mercers' Company have invited General Sir Harry Smith to dine with them, at their hall, early ir. the ensuieg month. APPEOACHING MARRIAGE IN HIGH LIFE—We We are enabled to anneonce that the preliminaries are arranged for a matrimonial al:iance between the Right Hon. H. Labouchere, ALP., and the amiable and accomplished Lady Mary Hward, 1 Sutherland Young , 6t sister of the Duchess of