The Press.
London, England, 1858-09-18 00:00:00

THE PRESS, SEPTEMBER 18, 1858.

a wide sweep, and he ranged discursively as an
independent thinker. He might have taken for
his literary motto the line—

Nullius athlietua jnrare in verbs magistri.
His temper was serene, but it was from the calm-
ness of a deep, and not from the frigid apathy of
a shallow, nature. Ile rejoiced in a library :
Macgregor "on his native heath" did not feel
more naturally in his element than the elder
Disraeli while sauntering and meditating in the
Bodleian. Ile had not the closeness of thought
or homely masculine vigour of Mr. Hallam;
he did not advance particular claims to
profundity in Greek scholarship ; upon philo-
logical niceties he was not an authority ; and,
having never pursued literature as a profession,
he was sometimes careless in giving too much
credence to his authorities. But his qualities as
a writer were many, great, and indisputable. He
could compress and expand with equal ease and
grace ; he wrote a style of his own that happily
adjusted itself to the claims of narrative and dis-
quisition. He avoided dryness and pedantry :
in reading his compositions, one never smells the
dust of a library; and he always thought with a
freshness and liveliness not often to be found
amongst those who pass their lives over hooks.
It was said of Dr. Kippis, the editor of the
" Biographia Britannica," that "he put so many
" books on the top of his brain that he could not
" think at all." But that could not be affirmed
of Isaac Disraeli. He had a cheerfulness of heart
that made him sprightly even upon a subject in-
trinsically dull ; and, though he never affected
that word-painting style which is almost be-
coming a literary vice in our times, yet there is a
richness of effect and geniality of tone in his
writings which completely separates them from
those ponderous dissertations produced by com-
pilers fainting under the burden of learning
which they have amassed but cannot use.
We know what can be said against Isaac
Disraeli. and we have read all that has been
written against him, by carping cynics and
learned obscurities. We shall not enter upon a
lengthy examination of his writings here, but
we may record our own critical objection, which
must be offered in abatement of his indisputable
merits. He does not weigh his authorities with
sufficient discrimination. When he is discussing
a subject he appeals to several authors, great and
small, and quotes from them successively. Thus,
in his article on the " Inequalities of Genius," he
cites three authorities,—first, what Carraccio said
of Tintoret ; next, a remark by Trublet ; and
then what Lucian observed. It seems ridiculous
to appeal to Trublet, whose writings deserve to
be forgotten, though they were better than what
Voltaire represented. In many parts of the
" Curiosities of Literature" this habit of mixing
together names not entitled to quotation in the
same company and on the same subject is to be
censured. It produces as odd effects as if a
French or German traveller should quote the
savings and doings of "great English aristocrats
" like the Duke of Richmond, the Earl of Derby,
" and Sir Benjamin Hall," or appeal to our
living brilliant orators " like Mr. Disraeli, Mr.
" Gladstone, the Bishop of Oxford, and Mr.
" Bernal Osborne." Let any one versant in
literary reputations turn over the leaves of the
" Curiosities," and he cannot fail to observe this
defect. The fault mentioned here is not to be
found in Isaac Disraeli's other works, because he
took up special subjects, and concentrated his
attention more closely, and took more pains in
examining and classifying his authorities.
But, after all, the "Curiosities of Literature"
is what gave, and will preserve, his name.
It is always interesting, the selection of topics is
judicious, and the illustrations are most enter-
taining. Like " Boswell's Johnson,'' it can be
taken up at any time; and what a distinguished
wit and ()rata once said of Boswell's work may
be not inaptly applied to the "Curiosities" :
" Everything is so delightful, and the great
" charm of it is, that when I lay it down and
" return to it after some months, I find that I
" have forgotten what I read in it, and I find
" everything just as rew and fresh to me as
" before." It is difficult, indeed, to remember
what has been observed in the " Curiosities,"
because the nature of the plan followed by the
author was to disregard a formal method, so as
that he might engage the attention of every kind
of readers. It is a good book in a library, or by
the seashore, or in the invalid's chamber, or the

philosopher's study ; it can trifle and teach ; it
can soothe in pain, and elevate in depression
and, still better, it can excite an appetite for
reading other books.

Such is our own opinion on this work, but, as
we said, we are aware that Isaac Disraeli and his
writings have had their acrid detractors, one or
two of whom are still living. It has been said of
the " Curiositities " by one of the most bitter of
his censors:—

One book he made for breakfast reading fit:
The " Curiosities " will lightly sit
On minds that like the literary chips.
As arm known o'er which the eye soon skips
From page to page without fatigue of thought,
Or without sound ideas having caught—
Mere shining nothings—spangles of the mind,
That scintillate, but leave no heat behind—
Of such the " Curiosities " were made:
Old lore dug up, and in new dress array'd—
Attractive matter in each chapter put,
Without authenticating notos at foot;
The whole desigti'd to dazzle and deceive,
And make raw renders readily believe
A chaplet rare the author should receive.
He spread a counter sparkling to the eye,
And well trick'd out to catch mere passers by,—
Pebbles for pearls—pinchbeck pric'd for gold--
The cunning Isaac did too oft unfold.
• s s • •
" Prince of compilers" was the rank he
And even as that his vogue bas greatly waned.
His bizarre learning, loose and inexact,
His wrong quotations, haziness of fact,
Are found out now; and critics far and wide,
As sham philosopher cid Dizzy oft deride.

oef thatan passino! geef.
thelV e are
phrase
t
pseudo-ucrneticaasl d
There are nearly as many errors as lines in the
toietath
therein used, " haziness of fact," but if we com-
prehend it rightly, the thing itself is exemplified
in the foregoing passage. The "bizarre learn-
ing" of Disraeli the Elder might also be imputed
to Plutarch's Lives, Selden's Table-talk, the
Menagiana, the writings of Warburton, Bayle's
Dictionary, the " Noctes Ambrosianze," and in
short to all authors and to all works aiming at a
cyclopwdic range and exhibiting various and
recondite knowledge. The charge of being a
" !ham philosopher " is vulgar and false. Isaac
Disraeli was indeed a man of philosophic mind,
but he despised a mere philosophe, and one of his
greatest merits is his quiet contempt for the
"cant of criticism." So, also, the charge of being
a "compiler," though qualified by the term
" prince," is untrue. A compiler is an author
who has learning and industry, but who has
neither thoughts nor a style of his own. Now,
though we do not altogether concur with Isaac
Disraeli's view of the character of James 1., his
vindication of that monarch is abundant proof
that he had a will of his own ; and his intense
devotion to letters during a prolonged life is also
additional proof of the native energy of his mind.
Southey was not only an exquisite writer of Eng-
lish prose, but he was also a consummate judge
of an English style, and more than once Southey
recorded his admiration for the style of Isaac
Disraeli ; and it deserved its praise for being
rich without lusciousness, and light without
frivolity. The famous controversy about Pope
was originated by Disraeli the Elder, and Lord
Byron dedicated his " Observations upon an
Article in Blackwood's Magazine," discussing the
question, to Isaac Disraeli, in the most flattering
terms ; and, last, not least, when the University
of Oxford made him a D.C.L., the words used in
the diploma of his honorary degree we.re,
" Optima regis optimi vindici." Once or twice
Isaac Disraeli turned on his detractors, and
i his
scorching reply to one of his assailants s a
masterpiece of literary satire, full of fine strokes
of poignant sarcasm. " Ritson," he wrote" was
" harsh, crabbed, and morose; he was a wild. ea!
" of the mountains, a of a larger !peenWhere we have left a blank Isaac Disraeli named
his assailant, indicating with oblique sarcasm
that his detractor was only a small kind of the
feline species. The epithet "wild at of !he
mountains " is exquisite, and just in its applica
tion to the rabid spirit in which Ritson used to
write his prefaces and notes on ballad poetry-
But the whole subject of the elder Disraeli, big
life, and his attractive writings, is too tem. pang
for us, and we must here pause. We rejoice t 9
see this edition of his works. The paper and
type are excellent, and some new notes
aril
added ; and if the succeeding volumes are as. wew
brought out as that betbre us, the edition I„
shall
highly creditable to its publishers. We •