The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1904-10-30

empire, to England's foreign policy, to
America and Ireland, to English society
and, finally, to literature. AS the part which
Disraeli played on the political stage Ia
comparatively familiar, we shall here con-
fine ourselves for the most part to what Mr..
Sichel has to tell us about him considered
rs a man.
In the chapter on Disraels personality
me get two illuminating glimpses Of him,
lpne of his youth. the other OF his age. In
endeavortng to convey some likeness OF
Sthe wondrous boy that wrote 'Alroy,'
our author sketches romantic figure, a
southern shape in a northern setting, a
Kind of Mediterranean Byron, for the stock
of tie Disraelis was an offshoot of the
lSephardiniAthose Semites who had never
quilted the coast Of the Midland Sea and
were powerful in Spain before the WISH
goths. .The form is 1.-THE and slender,
with an air of repressed alertness. The
stature above middle height The head,
long and compact; its curls are fantastic
The oval face is pale rather than pallid,
with dark almond eyes of unusual depth.
size and lustre under veil Of dropping
llashes. The chin is pointed with decision.
The expression holds one. being by turn
keen and pensive; about 1t hovers a strange
air d inner wstchfulness and ambushed
Irony, half hooking in defiance, half eager
in conscious power. A languid reserve
marks his bearing it conceals a shoulder
ing vehemence: its observant silence pre-
pares amazement. directly interest excites
intercourse. Then indeed the scimitar
as it were, flashes forth unsheathed and
10 pf yynrJa
with IDEAS This ardor is not always pleas
ant; 1t breathes Of storm it speaks out ele-
mental passions. and CRATES against the
smooth edges of civilization" Mr.. Sichel
goes on; to say that in the London medley
Disraeli,,glike his friend Bulwer studied
a posture. Dandyism and listlessness
maslasd Ilnsleeping energy. At Braden-
ham This fathers place., however, his con-
stantretreat, the "Hurstly" of his last novel,
all IL natural and unconstrained. Here,
at least, he is free. Here he drives the
qull4 with his learned and famous father.
yeads and writes. meditates and is mirth-
full. Here, with a highly intellectual sis
ter, Who always believes In him and en-
courages hiul, he dreams. improvises,
discolIrses. Others may treat him as a
n,oonstruck Bombastes but to the gentle
insight of affection his lofty visions are
real. A
NOW Let us look at Disraeli grown old.
at time when many political vioissitudes
had been succeeded by a splendid triumph.
MANY OF U.s." our author says, remember
him in his age as he sauntered dreamily and
slowly with the late Lord Rowton, and none
who ever heard one Of his last orations in
the House of Lords can forget how. even
when he was in pain, he sprang from his
seat with the quick movement Of youth.
The physical charm had disappeared Few
who gazed on that drawn countenance
could have discerned in 1t the poetry and
enthusiasm Of his prime; only the unworn
eyes preserved their piercing fires, but the
sunken jaw was still masterful A long
discipline Of iron elf-control, much dis
Illusion. growing disappointment with
GROWING triumphs, and, latterly, great
desolation, had subdued the fercer force
and the elastic buoyancy of his heyday.
Yet the intellectual fascination and the spell
OF mind and spirit had deepened their out
ward traces. Fastidious discernment dis
passionate will. penetrating insight, cour-
age, patience, a certain winning gentleness
underneath the scorn Of shans, stamped
every1lineament. Below habtual insoucidnce
might be discerned intensity, bigness OF
soul and purpose. The arch OF the noble
brow retained its height and curves Sur
rounded though he was by friends and
fatterers, he looked lonelier than OF old
i do not feel solitude hesaid; 1T gives one
repose.'