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

shall sonie.ont I"), is not the least interesting among
the many similar anecdotes connected with the
English Parliament.. Already- the time has arrived,
-14nd:the unappreciated Member of Maidstone has, 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 Hampden
sat before the Commonwealth, to be a member 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 ba 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 Alamos was dedicated to Lord
Francis Egerton, now the Earl of Ellesmere. Fami-
liar though Vat) ballad had been rendered, not merely
by the accurate version of Dr. Bowring,- but by the
nervous and impassioned paraphrase of Mr. Lockhart,
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
Castilla. Among the characters introduced it is
amusing 'to observethe name of Sidonia, a name after
wards rendered sufficiently famous by the pen of
Disraeli as that -of a Hebrew Crichton with the
wealth of a Rothschild, the knowledge of a Hum-
boldt, and the'capacity for languages of a Mezzofante.
Distinguished as the year which witnessed the
appearance of his tragedy, 1839 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 " A per-
fect ivife,!' which constitutes one of his most charming
dedications. -

i a
n nineteen
Grey,",' a
ti d
consequentlyhi s
Returned for Shrewsbury in
became more than 'ever assiduous inst 4
his
application to
Parliamentary business, but fortunately
did not altogether absorb the energiesacacivainted himself
a talel
of letters. Having thoroughly
acceptable
pfhttehatebhaleeumtmihn.
aornrs.
(by' practice) with the qualitiesymeao
h after t he
when'ap
' novelist, Disraeli,
of
~viv
intoaving doubled
his faculties had been matured by
the age at which he first adventured
immediate and sustained popularity,
arena, issued a work from the press, the literary
lhe
e, insignificance.e e n ius
writwternittevnenieltiean,riinettawhTicehmp,
which, by its
reduced
all his previous successes to
hadslitoary;
he
hadalready a love
of two ideal persobages of the last great
Age of Eng-
lish poetry hadbeen again idealized; and,
in addition
to this, he had written The Young Duke, the fore-
shadow, one might fancy it, of a subsequent and
more popular production. But the happiest of all
these efforts was surpassed in 1844, on the
publication
of Coningsby, designated, by an after-title," The
New Generation." Within three months
from
I
the
day of its appearance, three considerable editions
were exhausted, and, besides commanding an exten-
sive circulation on the continent, the work secured for
itself the exportation of no less than 50,000 copies to
what
e
United States exclusively. It must be allowed
obtained for "Coningsby" its almost instant reputation
na
at
was the fact of its pages being crowded with sketches
of well-known characters not less unmistakable than
the caricatures of H. 8., with as much eccentricity
and as little exaggeration. Nor were the individuals
thus pourtrayed simply politicians, although the fic-
tion itself (was eminently political in its tendency.
Lucian Gay, whom "Nature had) intended for
scholar and a wit," -but "Necessity had made a
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 reatricted 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
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 dea •
eription of Montem,
a description which, in its turn, closes with a warning
of evil days to the new
ongeneration. Several
amusing interviews are at prepared for Ca-
ningsby, perhaps the most suggestive
cie
of which is the
A
one accidentally held at the elphi Hotel, Man-
chester, with a gentleman whose
Mr. G. 0. A. Head, of Staleyh train goes at 9.15
ridge. The meeting,
however, between Coningsby
and Sidonia must be
dignified with the name of au
event
incident. With Sidonia site becomerather than of an
_:n
afterwards better
acquainted; ,but from the '
in the "Daughter of the Star," 'ent of his reining
it is not difficult to detect the
arities of his character. n.extraordinary peculi-
preference at the
frugal repast for perry and crust:
of England,,gives the first_ inkling89 the corn and wine
Corn and wine, he .reminds of his originality.
been deified— but the Chs. Coningsby, have
raised temples , to tea, nor thelneee have never
Then his declamation upon the t Irish to potatoes.
young is divine"—deriving th„,ext—" Genius when
accuracy from the careers of such- illustrations of its
Hannibal or Napoleon, as Gas youthful heroes as
tavus Adolphus I And last of t,Oll de Foix or Gus.
of his religion at the porch of the
the announcement
departing—‘' I am of the faith that
farm-house when
pro-
fessed before they followed their hat the Apostles
indications consonant with the Master." All are
later on revealed—in Sequin naturee of Sidonis, as
financier in Europe, and in Carlton oust as the greatest
luxurious but not efleminated millionaire. Gardens as the
the political *sketches in ~ con Clever as
cleverness of what usually degenerates are with the
experience, the love passages have into a heartless
freshness of youth and the animation
about them all the
We remember few more exquisite scenes
of romance.
the master-passion than that in the expressive of
Hellingsley, where, in the deliciousnesse fishing cottage at
solitude and in the midst of theme of the sylvan
"Sound of vernal shoe
On the twinkling grass"`
the hero reveals his devotion to the--
Millbank. 'The droll : embarrass heroine—Edith
their return, having 'kept the dinner ensuing on
'unner "
conscionably, only imparts au additions ig un-
means disagreeable piquancy to ti and by no
narrative. Atnong the startling 0 that portion of the
lend their attraction to the story, thenurrences which
the liveliest spirit are—the dissapp°oB.6 depicted with
by the marriage of the Marquess et. intinents caused
the Princess Lucretia Colonna . Monmouth with
• the
driving Oswald with Harry to the thunder-storm
castle,
are discovered, regaling themselves, by where they
the misapprehended interview 0 Mr. Rigby
Sidonia during , the ball in of Edith and
St. Germain : and, above all, e Faubourg
dent immediately preceding that f the acci-
Lady Monmouth is thrown from her ecanttity, when
Avenue Marigny. Nothing can be m—rvlage in the
finished than the last-mentioned description—the
admirably
Marcinese TprAeiving his' courtly self.ponription—the
wonderful equanimity, while Lucretia iest`e"ion with
tender Sentiments towirds Sidonia. Adta"wing her
Marquaas of Monmouth is in the Whologether, the
most ingeniously elaborated delineatioe work the
glanee,.' every attitude, every syllable n.
Ever
LIMy
pulously, but without an effort, chaetteteriatie• A
i`
selfish - voluptuary from the commencement, but
princely withal in - his habits, he has the
L tbe " grande seigneur," and the. temperamentmannera of
• of
epicurean. He receives' his grandson for an
time with the bow of Louis Quatorze : and the first
assisted up a flight of steps at Paris by." La 1 he is
petite,
it is with an acknowledgment of no less
tilious courtesy. Hence, to the unravelment Pune'
of the
plot, the reader suspects not for an instant
that Mademoiselle Flora is no other than
Lord
Monmouth's natural daughter by Marie Estelleii
Matteau, -an actress of the Theatre Francais_
impression throughout being that she is the child Of
Armand Villebecque. Once only the heart of the-
man
seems to throb somewhat perceptibly under the robe
of the luxurious patrician. It is when
Harry, having
M s n
arrived at Coningsby Castle, greets the
--sarquea in-
the midst of a crowded and distinguished assembly,
with the inquiry—gg HOW do you do, grandpapa ?"
Yet oven then, says the author with a subtle sense
of truthfulness in the portraiture, " It would
be
exaggeration to say that Lord Monmouth's
.heart was
touched—his good nature effervesced and his, fine
taste was._ „
deeply gratified." Proud of the handsome
stripling, 'he' places his arms round Coningsby with
" a dignity of affection that would have become the
"Grande Monarque," kissing him on both cheeks
with unwonted cordiality. It is at St. Genevieve, the
residence of Eustace Lyle, situated near Beaumanoir
and in the thick of the revels at Christ!
I mas, when he is bearing the boar's bead
- 011410 the ball- to the chgulting of the
old

Latin versicles, that ConinP by receives a letter an-
nouncing the death of his grandfather. Thereupon
ensues the reading of that extraordinary will the
original of which not maanytshoyrear.s back was " the
talk" of all Mayfair and
expected
in.the side of Bel-
gravia, Deprived of his
cinheritance, Co-
nings.by is consoled by the refle tbat be has
neither lost en arm nor a front tooth,suggested. by
Sidonia. Utterly down in the worl, with his name
erased from the clubs, his horses sold by auction,
)himself a student in the Temple, and—cut-by n
l-
one
* y—a g b
ray of light suddenly dawns upon the hero
evening through a "third edition" of The Sun,
wherein. be 'finds that Mr. Milibank has proposed
as Mersber for Dartford. Ultimately theu him
unfortu-
nate nate Rigby is defeated, and Coningsbyeshortly after-
wards,- having hurried down with Oswald, enters the
town. as the successful candidate, " like Paulus
Emehus returning from .Maceeion." 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 Member
of Parliament. " Coningsby" 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 18317,ina-
mediately before the winning of the Derby by Phos-
phorus, the reader is startled by the motley scenes of
wretchedness afterwards opened up to examination.
Almostevery phase of society, finds in " Sybil," its
appropriate representative. Almost every moral
blain in the community is laid bare to our abhorrence.
Guided' by the novelist, we penetrate the drawing
rooms of Mowbray Castle, where Altamont Belvidere
Fitz-warene flourishes with his two sandy daughters,
the Ladies Maud 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 the Muses out of
stucco, plate glass, gilding, and veneer. We wander
under the same spell—a spell more powerful than that
of a romancist, 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 selfishnesg of
the " butty" 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 of 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 in 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 occasionally, almost painful distinctness
its form and pressure." With all its tragic elements,
the fiction was nevertheless as remarkable for vivacity
at its predecessor—possibly, on occasion, more remark-
able. The denizens of Belgravia moved as gaily
though in a more sombre atmosphere : and the epi-
grammatic wit with which each person was sketched
in s sentence, or an epithet,, rendered the work no
less acceptable than " Coningsby" to the admirers
of what is merely sparkling in light li▪ terature.
Walter Gerard, the father of Sybil, although an.
humble workman at Mr. Trafford's factory,
recognised from the first as one of nature's
gentlemen : but not so Lord Marney, "a man who
was coascious 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 I
Disagreeable though several of the patrici▪
an 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 Aiminster
"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 L 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, orat,"
even when munching his devilled biscuit at his
favourite table in the Atheneenm. As unquestion-
ably, the most detestable personage in the work 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 costerrnonger, or as Mr. St. Lys
the good vicar of Mowbray, or as Harriet the
child of the handloom weaver, are occcasion-
ally sketched with a singularly nice discri-
mination.. Among these, is pleasantly conspicuous
Sir Vavasour 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 distinguishable, however, in the midst of
an the motley figures crowded i❑ artistic groupes into
the canvass are—the younger brother of Lord Marney,
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 t waddlers like
Botnbastes Rip, and about such themes of tedium as
debates in the House, when " Wisby is up, and
Washy follows," the narrative repeatedly becomes in-
vested with an absorbing interest, rising at inter-

vacs 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 as 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. John's Church ' • and thq clock of St. John's was
sounding six—and Gerard bad 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 trepidation. Every circum-
stance in her progress appears at first environed
with impassable and insurmountable difficulties,
from the impertinence of the waiter in the
Coffee-house kept by Tanner, where she is
at length reluctantly directed to " 22, Hunt-
street going out of Silver-street," or from the cab
wheel flying off in the centre of one of the most
abandoned rookeries, to the proposition made by Splin-
terlegs and and Hell-fire Dick to carry her away to
Mother Poppy s, until her despairing cjacula.
tion, " 0 holy virgin aid me !" secures for her
the assistance of a poor Irishman whose
heart warms on discovering in her a sister 'Catholic.
The passionate interest of the whole adventure is ab-
sorbing, up to the arrest of Maclast, Wilkins, aad
Gerard, and their conveyance, together with Sybil,
to the Bow-street Police-station. As a climax to the
tragic occurrences in the story, comes the general
riot leading to the incursion of the mob into Mow-
bray-park and their attack upon Mowbray Castle,
where Morley is killed in the inuniment room, and
Lord Marney stoned to death at the head of his
yeomanry. While the building is still roaring and
crackling in the flames, Sybil is rescued by 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 wonderful felicity in the very motto affixed to
the titlepage of Sybil, a sentence culled from old
Bishop Latimer, "The Commonalty murmured, and
said, There never were so many Gentlemen, and
so little Gentleness.' " It was one
among the
bitterest evils of the time, and one therefore
to which the novelist did wisely, as well a,
_ genercusli, 41 giving utterance. instead of
effecting