SQA y SS SS AG \ S SSS GQ Se XS Xs : SS SS a AN APPRECIATIVE LIFE OF THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD. NOTTINGHAM; PRINTED BY THOS, FORMAN AND SONS, AON PR ISSIGIGS INN Te, elms) OF THE IRIUGIGUE SION, TOSU8 VAIL, Oe bob ONS F Ii 1D, Q Statesman of ‘Wight ant Leaving,’ WITH PORTRAITS OF HIS CONTEMPORARIES. EDITED BY CORNELIUS BROWN, F.RSL Author of several Historical and Biographical Works. ILLUSTRATED WITH PERMANENT PHOTOGRAPHS. LONDON: A. W. COWAN, 30 anp 31, NEW BRIDGE STREET, LUDGATE HILL NOTTINGHAM: CHARLES WHEATLEY, PETER GATE. MDCCCLXXXI, ee ae Gre. OR at least two cogent reasons the life of the late Ear or BEACONSFIELD is worthy of careful study. He took so prominent a part in guiding the destinies of the nation during an important period, that a true knowledge of his life is indispensable to all who would be thoroughly familiar with the history of the nineteenth century; and he worked his way to great- ness and power amidst manifold disadvantages and discouragements so manfully, so heroically, so skilfully, that his biography is replete with interesting and instructive lessons illustrating the value of energy, determination, and courage; and furnishing, especially to the young, a powerful stimulus to untiring exertion. To reap the full benefit of a careful consideration of his lordship’s brilliant career, we must clear our minds of any prejudice which a superabundance of depreciatory comments may have produced, and be prepared to put a correct and consistent interpretation on all that he said and did. It is not necessary that we should gloss over frailties, or blind ourselves to obvious faults, where such exist; but it is essential that we should read thoughtfully, judge impartially, and not jump to rash conclusions which in more generous moments we should reverse and regret. We must take a just, a candid, and a kindly view if we would derive that present interest and en- during profit from the study which it is so capable of giving. Hence it is that we venture to offer to the public what we have termed an appreciative biography. We have not set ourselves the superfluous task of singing, in season and out of season, the praises 6 PREFACE. of Lord Beaconsfield; but we have invited friendly hands to draw such a picture of his life and conduct as the circumstances justly warrant. Each portion of the work has been assigned to a com- petent writer, and an effort has been made so to divide the labour as to ensure its efficient execution, For instance, the chapter wherein is described the celebrated maiden speech in the House of Commons, has been written by a gentleman who was present on the occasion and had exceptional opportunities of witnessing all that took place, The Editor desires to acknowledge gratefully the prompt and cordial manner in which all those to whom he has applied for literary assistance or information have responded to his appeal. Their kindness has enabled him to present some interesting original matter, including personal reminiscences, which might not otherwise have been available for publication. In securing suitable and acceptable illustrations, no pains or expense have been spared. Of their excellence the Editor need say nothing. The names of the artists are given in most cases, and their work will, he has no doubt, prove a standing testimony to their artistic skill. The beautiful photograph of the Earl of Beaconsfield which forms the frontispiece to this work has been supplied by the eminent firm of W. & D. Downey, photographers to the Queen. July, T88t. THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD. CUSUAIP I IE IR Il, INTRODUCTORY. © Ah!” said Coningsby, ‘‘I should like to be a great man.”’ ‘Nurture your mind with great thoughts, To believe in the heroic makes heroes.’— Coningsby. HE affairs of the world are directed by sovereigns and statesmen,’ said the late Earl of Beaconsfield on a cele- brated occasion. Admitting, as all must, the substantial accuracy of that assertion, it follows that if we would rightly under- stand the history of a people or of an epoch, we must endeavour to realise not merely the events, but also the characters, the principles, and the surroundings of the men to whose initiative they were owing, or by whose influence they were directed. The man is not the epoch, but he is so important an interpreter of its spirit, and so potent an actor in its drama, that to separate /zm and 7f is to leave each incomplete. No man thinks of our own civil war but there rises up in his mind’s eye the stern and rugged features of Oliver Cromwell, or the melancholy lineaments of King Charles, or the keen visage of the fiery Rupert. Who can realise the French Revolution apart from Mirabeau, Danton, St. Just, Robespierre, and Marat; or turn the pages in which are recorded the victories of the Consulate and Empire without recognising in the figure of the mighty General and too ambitious Emperor that of the man whose name will ever be identified with the events which filled those miserable and bloodstained years? So with the War of Independence by the United States, so with the War of Secession, and so with many other instances we might name. The ‘battles, sieges, fortunes’ of AN APPRECIATIVE LIFE OF oo each are but as the variations of an old theme; it is when we come to study the men who were the actors that we begin to realise the true meaning of the drama which the page of history has unrolled before us, and are enabled to draw conclusions which may be of value to us in the present, or may indicate a method of escape from the perils which may appear to be looming in the future. Biography has been termed the detail of history, and so in a sense it is; but it may be asserted, without much fear of contradiction, that it is a detail which must be studied ere we can comprehend the whole. Biography, too, has the advantage of presenting us with a record that comes more immediately home to our sympathies, and appeals more directly to our human and social affections, than the more stately and swelling story which the muse of history repeats. In the battle of the world the great events alone may for the moment claim the loudest plaudits and exact the more attention, but it is by the light of individual narrations that we gather the fuller details of the struggle, and it is in following step by step the career of the individual combatant that we find our deepest sympathies aroused. If this be true of average individualities it is emphatically true of great men who have risen by their own efforts, and by the exercise of the talents with which God has gifted them. The student, following the career of such an one, feels not only sympathy but also emulation. The record of great achievements dazzles; the story in detail of how those achievements were made possible stimulates. The statesman wielding the destinies. of nations, the general directing the forces of a mighty empire, the orator holding multitudes spell-bound, are each embodiments of a success which may excite admiration but which does not at the first rouse any feeling of rivalry. But when we come to trace step by step such careers, to see how each—‘while his companions slept’—was toiling upward, the mind is braced to en- deavour, and generous emulation is aroused which, put into action, may mould the whole future life, and make that noble which, but for the stimulus thus supplied, might have remained slothful, inert, and apathetic, Tie ee NOT Wai GON S IE ED, 9 Such a lesson, such a stimulus to endeavour, such a corrective to despair as biography can supply, we find ready to our hand in the life of the great man who has but recently passed from our midst, and whose career, as ‘wondrous’ in its way as that of his own Advoy, we design to trace. Benjamin Disraeli, Earl of Beaconsfield, was a man whose many-sided greatness we have not yet fully appreciated, though since his death he has been estimated more justly by the men of that England he loved so much, and of whose honour and good name he was so proudly jealous, With Lord Beaconsfield has fallen the statesman whom the diplomatists of Europe respected and feared, the minister whose cool sagacity baffled their most deeply laid schemes, the patriot whose stern directness of warning ‘gave pause’ to their most audacious projects, the politician whose vigilance never slept, the man who never quailed before a foe, or failed to aid with service, fortune, and voice, those whom he honoured by calling his friends. Nor does this eulogy do more than indicate one side of the man we have lost, for had not the Earl of Beaconsfield been great as a states- man he would have had a claim on the proud remembrance of his countrymen as one of the most effective orators, and assuredly one of the most terrible debaters, whom the British House of Commons ever knew. Few men in that assembly, rich as it has ever been in talent, cared to cross swords in debate with Benjamin Disraeli—fewer yet ever essayed to do so and came off victors. But going farther yet, putting aside Earl Beaconsfield’s triumphs as a statesman and orator, we would claim for him the honour of being the most adroit, skilful, and sagacious, of political leaders. His in- fluence over men was wonderful, his personal manner inexpressibly winning, his courage under defeat or in face of apparently insur- mountable obstacles unshaken, his patience inexhaustible. ‘Change kings with us, and we will fight the battle again, was the reply of Sarsfield after the Battle of the Boyne to a taunt on the defeat of his countrymen. ‘Change leaders with us and we will fight the battle again,’ might have been the cry of the discomfited Liberals 10 Z4UN AUPTOISIE (CALA WA WIE LIGNE (OF when Lord Beaconsfield had once more led his followers to victory. Few men knew the House of Commons as Mr. Disraeli knew it, few men had the capacity for so inspiriting friends and cowing enemies, and not even Lord Palmerston was, we believe, his equal in seizing upon the dominant mood of the House and swaying it to his will. Statesman, orator, debater, politician—all are titles to fame which the world readily honours; but Benjamin Disraeli would have been a great man apart from his political career, and apart from his long association with the greatest legislative assembly in the world. ‘Literature is my only escutcheon, said he once, with proud humility ; and had no other honour been put upon him, as a man of no mean repute in the literature of his time would Benjamin Disraeli have gone down to posterity. And his literary work was, on the whole, as excellent as it was varied, as original as it was, voluminous. From ‘Vivian Grey’ to ‘Endymion’ there are no two of his novels alike, and there is certainly no one like anything else in English literature. They are unique, and they are such as we shall in the future probably never see equalled in their peculiar excellencies. That we have novels as good, or better, we do not deny; that we have novels more popular is a truism; but we have no novels like those of Disraeli. They stand alone, and on them might any man be proud to rest his claims to honourable distinction in the annals of his country. Yet with Lord Beaconsfield they ever seemed but the mere casual outpourings of a full mind seeking utterance, and seizing upon fiction as the readiest mode of attaining it. The prize for which other men struggle long and vainly he gained, as it seemed, without an effort, and accepted without exultation, Surely, then, this man, great in so many ways, was favoured by birth, or was a spoiled child of wealth? Not at all. Benjamin Disraeli came of an ancient but despised race; his surroundings in early years were extremely modest; great wealth he never possessed, nor strove after, nor cared for, and the station he gained he won by sheer force of genius, foresight, intense application, strenuous ewe OLE AAO IN SERED), 11 effort, unwavering courage, patient pertinacity. When we come to trace more particularly the events of Lord Beaconsfield’s life, the reader will find ample justification for the warmth of the eulogy we have pronounced, and will perchance find, too, that the facts would have justified language even more enthusiastic. That such an opinion would have been rudely challenged in Lord Beaconsfield’s lifetime is unfortunately true, but now the claim may be made more confidently, for it is day by day becoming more clear to his countrymen how sorely, how ungenerously, how per- sistently this ‘man of the people’ was misjudged, misrepresented, villified. It is difficult for us now-a-days to discover what was the particular feature or circumstance in Mr. Disraeli which from a young man seemed to single him out as one of the favourite marks for the arrows of calumny, and why to him more than others the press of England was so generally hostile. ‘A young adventurer’ was one of the earliest terms of reproach applied to him; ‘an adventurer’ was almost the last gibe in the mouths of his enemies in the hour of his triumphant success. If by ‘adventurer’ be meant one who changes his opinions to suit his personal ends, the charge Is singularly inapplicable to the late Earl of Beaconsfield; for his career, looked at as a whole, and generously judged from his own standpoint, was remarkably consistent; and he carried out in manhood the opinions he avowed in youth. It has been said that in his early days Lord Beaconsfield was a Radical. He was; and, in the sense in which he used the term, he was a Radical to the end of his life. He has been reproached as a rigid Tory; in a sense he was a Tory too, and there is no inconsistency involved in the conjunction. The fault lay not with the great Earl but with his critics, who accepted a party designation as a political definition, and raised a nickname to the dignity of a creed. Rightly judged, Lord Beaconsfield’s political life was consistent from first to last, and had it been otherwise he would not have been without precedent for such change of opinion, nor would he have needed to look far for a modern instance. Mere change of 12 AUN AUPTEIRSECILATPIWE ILAVEI (OUP opinion would not, however, have accounted for the bitterness or the malignity with which Mr. Disraeli was assailed; nor would the fact of his success explain it, nor the exigencies of party warfare palliate it. Never a free liver, or one who set the decencies of life at defiance, as did some of his early contemporaries, it cannot be said that Mr. Disraeli provoked enmity by his private excesses; in social life he was universally voted fascinating. What then was the secret of this determined hostility, this rancorous vituperation, this malignity of attack to which he was ever exposed ? ‘That question we hope to answer in subsequent pages; now we may be content to say that it arose from a variety of motives, mostly un- worthy, and from a party and social hostility almost wholly ignoble. Some of the critics of Lord Beaconsfield, in the public press, appear to have written of his life in this spirit. Their object has not been to present to us the man as he was, but to hold up a hideous caricature and then pour contempt upon it. His writings have been ransacked for passages that could be twisted into evi- dences of self-condemnation. Such attacks in life irritated Lord Beaconsfield’s friends; now he is gone, indignation succeeds irritation. For himself, he ever treated worthless satire with calm disdain, and mere vituperation was passed over in silence. Ready enough for combat, he yet could not afford to waste his strength in trivial conflicts. With cool contempt he suffered his assailants, on nume- rous occasions, to circulate inaccuracies, and impute motives, when a word, or a few lines of print, would have sufficed to crush them. But if Lord Beaconsfield was thus himself indifferent, it is the more incumbent on men who hold him in esteem to refute those who condemn him, and to convince fair and reasonable opponents that they have misjudged him. Something too is due to posterity, Assertions recklessly made, and left contemptuously unanswered, have an ugly knack of reappearing when refutation has become, from lapse of time, impossible; and many a stain may rest for years on a fair reputation simply because no one cared to investigate the story, but each carelessly took it from the other, and time almost iE EAR OR BEACONS HIE ED, 13 consecrated the error into a truth it was absurd to doubt. In Lord Beaconsfield’s case political and party rancour have for years striven how to misrepresent him most effectually; the pencil of the caricaturist has backed up the pen of the political enthusiast, and so persistently has the mzztraille of abuse been kept up, that many people, not themselves ungenerous or uncandid, have been led to take an un- generous and uncandid view of him. Such of these misrepresentations as we may meet with we shall, in the course of this biography, endeavour to put right; such attacks as we think worthy the labour we shall rebut; while such errors as fairness bids us acknowledge we shall frankly lay bare. Lord Beaconsfield was far too great a man to need any undue eulogy; much too honest a man to care for a reputation which he had not earned; much too honourable a man to knowingly commit himself to a wretched subterfuge or evasion in order to avoid the acknowledg- ment of a fault. He erred, as we have all erred since Adam fell, but his errors were never ignoble ones; and if we can succeed in presenting him to our readers as he has for years seemed to us, we shall convince them that what errors he did commit were mag- nificently atoned for. One trait of his lordship’s character we may mention in this connection. Bitterly as he was attacked himself, he was rarely the aggressor,—the speeches against Sir R. Peel not- withstanding,—and it might be almost said that, except in a political sense, he was pre-eminently a man of peace. This brilliant orator, this bitter sayer of keen things, this man whose powers of sarcasm made him dreaded by his foes, was at heart a kindly gentleman, loved by his personal friends as few have been, respected by his colleagues, affectionately regarded by his dependants. Above all he seemed incapable of sustained resentment. In the heat of debate, or in the course of political strife, hard words might be said, and hard knocks interchanged—and Lord Beaconsfield was not the man to hang back when hard fighting was in progress; but the battle over, he never ‘bore malice.’ The anger and bitterness passed away, and he was ever ready to join hands with any honourable foe when 14 ZAIN AU ETEURIECILA WWE SEMA (OWE the day of mutual explanations came. To this sweetness of disposition add his rare gifts of intellect, his suavity of manner, his unselfish desire to help others, his generous appreciation and acknowledgment of even trifling services, and we get, perhaps, an inkling of what Sir Stafford Northcote meant when, in a speech made a few days after the Earl’s death, he remarked, ‘Those who did know and love him, loved him very much,’ What Benjamin Disraeli might have become had his surround- ings been different, it is difficult to imagine. We cannot but think that he must, under almost any circumstances, have been a great man, and we think, too, the bent of his genius would sooner or later have carried him towards politics; he was a statesman and politician almost by instinct, as some men are artists or poets. We have evidence that very early in life he had pondered, and studied deeply, the political and social problems of his day, and had worked out, albeit dimly, some great principles from which he never wavered. Men who knew, we will charitably hope, little of Mr. Disraeli either personally or politically, have said that he had no principles, that his political tactics were the inspiration of the moment, and his political actions guided by mere rule of thumb. Never was made a more unfounded assertion. The political creed of the Earl of Beaconsfield is but the political creed of Benjamin Disraeli, mellowed by time and modified by experience. Let us see for a moment if we can get at the creed of this man of ‘no principles,’ and note briefly what it involves. In the first place, then, Lord Beaconsfield felt more than most men the stirrings of that sublime, but now unfashionable, virtue—patriotism. He revered the great deeds of the past, and sought from them incentives to the duties of the present. Over his mind the ancient, the august, the magnificent had special sway. He honoured them, and he thought them worthy of honour. To this fecling we may refer his ardent attachment to constitutional usages and precepts. The same feelings which made him a lover of his race and of his adopted country and her leaders by right of descent, made him Ee eh oe OLE EG OUN SS LE TED 15 also a loyal subject of the crown, and, speaking of course in a political sense, a staunch upholder of the church. Regarded from this side of his nature, the Earl of Beaconsfield might well pass with the unthinking as a rigid Tory of the old school. A Tory he was, but he was something more. He reverenced the crown, the church, and the nobles, because he saw in them the representatives of the stability of the state, and the guardians of the well-being of the people; but no man had ever a profounder sympathy with the people than Lord Beaconsfield. A mere cynic could never have written ‘Sybil;’ a mere ‘adventurer’ could never have understood that there lay hid, and crushed, and mangled, under a prosperous looking ‘manufacturing interest, a mass of suffering humanity which had claims on the sympathy of the aristocracy; and no man except one who loved the people would have dared to speak out so boldly, and tell England’s aristocracy that their duty was to step forward to the aid of England’s people. This Benjamin Disraeli did as a young man, and as a man of maturer years he did something more,—he restored to the working classes that place in the constitution of which the Whig Reform Bill of 1832 had robbed them; and he passed more than one Act which had for its object to raise the masses in the social scale. Lord Beaconsfield was no admirer of class distinctions, but he was, as we all are, compelled to recognise them; and he quickly saw that in our social machinery there is one defect—-worse then than now: that far too great a proportion of political power was in the hands of the lower middle class, and that the mass of the people on the one hand, and the crown and nobles on the other, were shorn of their legitimate influence. The true golden mean of safety lay, in his opinion, in a harmo- nious and smoothly-working adjustment of all parts of the constitution: crown, aristocracy, people; and it was this harmonious adjustment of parts, this fair balancing and allocation of duties, responsibilities, and power, which was ever the end and aim of Lord Beaconsfield in home politics. He thought the masses were unduly weak—politically, 16 AN APPRECIATIVE VWAEE WOR and he bestowed on them the franchise; he saw that the House of Commons was engrossing an unfair and predominating power in the state, and he sought to strengthen the aristocracy and the crown; he perceived that the agricultural interest bore more than a fair share of the burdens of the nation, and he sought to mitigate the load of taxation which it carried. The principle here is not, we think, difficult to understand, and it will explain much in Lord Beaconsfield that else appears contradictory when we remember that he was working out the same dominant idea in different ways. Lord Beaconsfield was an ardent lover of our constitution, but he saw clearly enough that the day had passed when the prerogative of the crown was to be feared. For the same reasons that would in the days of the Stuarts have made him a champion of the privileges of the parliament, Earl Beaconsfield in these later days proclaimed himself the champion of the prerogative of the crown. The liberties of the people are not now in any sort of danger from the personal action of the sovereign; the constitution if overthrown will be over- thrown from the base and not shaken from the summit, and it was against this danger, which he saw was the existing one, that Lord Beaconsfield ever strove. With the masses of the people he had, as we have said, an intense sympathy. He commiserated the hardness, the dulness, the wearisome life which they so patiently endured, and his voice ever spoke out clearly and loudly on their behalf, while he sought to bind still closer the bonds which knitted the people to the throne. Over forty years ago he thus described his aims:—‘To change back the oligarchy into a generous aristocracy round a real throne; to infuse life and vigour into the church as the trainer of the nation, by the revival of its convocation, then dumb, on a wide basis; to establish a commercial code on the principles successfully negotiated by Lord Bolingbroke at Utrecht, and which, though baffled at the time by a Whig Parliament, were subsequently and triumphantly vindicated by his political pupil and heir, Mr. Pitt: to govern Ireland according to the policy of Charles I., and not THAME IEA Ice, (ONE SAE ANE OUIN, SIIB ILID). 17 of Oliver Cromwell; to emancipate the political constituency of 1832 from its sectarian bondage and contracted sympathies; to elevate the physical as well as the moral condition of the people.’ When we turn to foreign affairs we have still less difficulty in pointing out the dominant principle in Lord Beaconsfield’s policy—it was the advancement of the honour and interests of the empire by all legitimate means. We have used the word empire advisedly, for in that word may be said to lie the kernel of the differences between the policy of the Earl of Beaconsfield and that of his polli- tical opponents. In the mind of the late Earl the British empire was not co-terminus with the shores of the United Kingdom. He never regarded our colonies as held by a slack allegiance, or looked on our great dependency of India as an alien country, which we administered more or less, well or ill To him it seemed that all was one vast and glorious empire bound together by common ties, and owning allegiance to one Sovereign—an empire such as the world never saw, with an i aheritance of glorious traditions, and of the memories of proud triumphs; and it was his ambition to pass down to another generation all that we had received from our fathers, not only untarnished in honour and undiminished in power, but stronger, more honoured, more glorious than ever. Hence his im- patience with that school of politicians whose cry was for diminished responsibilities, and contracted influence. To Lord Beaconsfield the honour of Great Britain was as dear as his own, and it angered him to see men, albeit in good faith and with benevolent intentions, trifling with her prestige or hesitating to vindicate her position. That Lord Beaconsfield had any liking for war in itself is not true, but he realised that dishonour was worse than war; and that calmly to ignore insults was not the way to avoid them. He felt that if Great Britain was to be at peace she must show herself ready on due occasion for war; if she would be respected by others, she must show that she respected herself; if she would be safe from insult, she must show herself swift to avenge it. One other thing, too, Lord Beaconsfield steadily set himself to BR 18 AUN SUTRA CMA TOWN ITE SEINE JOU do, when the power to act was placed in his hands, and that was to restore the lost belief in England’s word. We do not mean that it was ever doubted but that English statesmen were honourable men, but there had arisen on the continent an all but universal belief that when Great Britain threatened she had no intention of fulfilling her threats. ‘Mere sound and fury signifying nothing’ would aptly have described the value which continental statesmen placed on English remonstrances, and such a condition of things was not only in the highest degree dishonourable to us, but was a constant source of danger. This was proved to be the case when we ‘drifted’ into the Crimean War. Had the Czar Nicholas and his advisers been convinced that England was in earnest, that war would never have taken place; but they had been so much in the habit of seeing England threaten and not strike, that they could not realise that under any circumstances could she be provoked to action. Lord Beaconsfield when in power effectually removed this reproach. He showed that, while he was at the head of affairs at all events, when Great Britain spoke she meant what she said. Hardly yet believing, the Muscovite, to use a vulgar but expressive phrase, ‘tried it on’ with the Treaty of San Stefano. The prompt reply was the passage of the Dardanelles by the fleet, the embodi- ment of the Reserves, the despatch of the Indian troops to Malta, and the vote of credit for 46,000,000. The Muscovite saw that Great Britain was not to be trifled with, and at once gave way. By this resolute action and attitude Lord Beaconsfield raised the influence of England to a pitch which it had not attained since the close of the wars of the French Revolution; and he did this, be it remembered, without the sacrifice of a single life, but by the sole force of an energetic will. It is, we venture to think, of the utmost importance that a man such as Lord Beaconsfield was should be fairly judged, and fully appreciated, by his countrymen. A nation which has owed so much to the statesman and politician, the millions of readers who have enjoyed the creations of the novelist, will, we are convinced, be AUT A OF WBE MOON SnD 19 glad to welcome a biography which shall as fully as possible place Lord Beaconsfield before them, and enable them to trace step by step that wonderful career, which, starting from ‘a library,’ culmi- nated in the position of Prime Minister of England, and the personal friend of England’s Queen. Few lives in modern times have been as eventful, as brilliant, and as protracted as that of Lord Beacons- field. For over a quarter of a century he was a leading man in the House of Commons, and during that time directed and modified, to a degree difficult to over-estimate, the policy of England. His public life extended over some half-century of a most important epoch in the development of the English people; and amongst his personal friends were some of the most remarkable and illustrious men of the present day. Nor were they men of one type alone; for Lord Beaconsfield never forgot that if he was a politician he was also an author, and was ever ready, nay, ever eager, to recognise and praise good work, or to encourage modest talent. An experience so varied, so extended, so unusual, would have made a history of interest had Lord Beaconsfield himself been but an ordinary man. He was far, however, from being an ordinary man in any aspect of his character, and he moved amongst statesmen and nobles, poets, historians and philosophers, as a peer of the proudest, and as a leader whom many, themselves illustrious, were proud to follow. From material so rich, so abundant, it will be our task to select what in our view tends to elucidate Lord Beaconsfield’s career, not simply from the stand-point of the mere chronicler, but from that of the student wishing to realise for himself the man in all his many-sided greatness, and with all his peculiar characteristics. That we have a great reverence for the genius and character of Lord Beaconsfield we do not hesitate to confess; but we have no intention of writing a eulogium. Naught will assuredly be ‘set down in malice,’ and as certainly will naught be unreasonably ‘extenuated.’ As fully as our limits will permit, as graphically as our skill will allow, the life of him whom we believe to have been the greatest of modern states- men—not even excepting Bismarck himself—will be told; and very 20 ZN APPR GLAAD aD NOR unskilfully indeed shall we have performed our task if the reader does not find in the narrative much both to interest, instruct, and stimulate; and if, in closing the volume, he does not feel with us that of a truth the departed statesman was one of those to whom no common gifts were lent, and of whom it can be emphatically said, ‘This was a great man,’ TIE SE AIRE, (OM IB AUCOUN SIME IL ID), 21 CHAPTER “II: THE D’ISRAELI FAMILY. ‘The Jews were looked upon in the middle ages as an accursed race, the enemies of God and man, the especial foes of Christianity. No one in those days paused to reflect that Christianity was founded by the Jews; that the Divine Author, in His human capacity, was a descendant of King David; that His doctrines avowedly were the completion, not the change, of Judaism; that the Apostles and the Evangelists, whose names men daily invoked, and whose volumes they embraced with reverence, were all Jews; that the infallible throne of Rome itself was established by a Jew; and that a Jew was the founder of the Christian churches of Asia.’—Preface to Coningsby. HE family of which the late Lord Beaconsfield was the | most distinguished member, was itself ancient, and, in more senses than one, illustrious. Few indeed of our nobility could trace back their ancestry so far as he, and on the career of few men have the traditions of race and descent had so marked an influence. ‘The D’Israelis were, as the name itself declares, of the Hebrew race; and to Lord Beaconsfield’s honour be it remem- bered he not only never sought to hide the fact, but gloried in it, and himself supplied the world with the particulars of his descent. Through the excellent biographical memoir prefixed to the edition of Isaac D’Israeli’s works published in 1849, and other sources less authentic, the public have been made familiar with the origin of the D’Israeli family, and the circumstances under which it was transferred to the tolerant and genial abode where it has become so popular. When, four centuries ago, Spain was a far greater nation comparatively than she is now, many Hebrews, attracted by com- mercial pursuits, settled in the Spanish peninsula) Amongst the Jewish families who were resident in Spain in the fifteenth century was that from which the D'Israeli’s sprung. It is probable they would have remained there but for the terrors of the Inquisition. When Torquemada, the terrible persecutor, entered upon his deadly crusade against unbelievers in Christ, when he sought to promote Christianity bo to ZAIN MI RACTSSIESCIA WHINE LATE (OIE by putting all non-Christians to death, the children of Israel, who had long lived and prospered ‘on the shores of the Midland Ocean,’ were compelled to flee for their lives. Reluctantly, we may be sure, and mournfully, they left their homes, and sought refuge where, though the skies were less sunny, there was an atmosphere of freedom. Some came to England, and some to Holland, while others, Lord Beaconsfield’s ancestors amongst the number, turned their steps in the direction of the Venetian Republic. In their new settlement ct he family from which the illustrious statesman sprang dropped their Gothic’ surname—what it was we are not told and, ‘grateful to the God of Jacob, who had sustained them through unprecedented trials, and guarded them through unheard of perils, they assumed the name of D'Israeli, a name never borne before or since by any other family.’ In the quieter region of the Republic, safe from the fiery zeal of religious fanatics of the stamp of Torquemada, — he D’Israeli's lived and flourished for two centuries or more. It was through the great-grandfather of Lord Beaconsfield, himself a merchant like the rest of his kinsmen, that a branch of the family was transplanted to British soil. About the middle of the eighteenth century the country emerged from a period of unusual excitement. In the religious world a consternation had been caused by the earnest efforts of Wesley and Whitfield, while the attention of the political world had been centred in the desperate but futile effort of the Young Pretender to seize upon the throne. The defeat and with- drawal of the Pretender settled the fate of the Stuarts, and left King George in undisputed possession. ‘The dynasty seemed at length established,’ and quiet succeeded for a while, like the calm after a storm. It was at this conjuncture, when the nation was in a peaceful and tolerant mood, when ‘religious persecution,’ with Pelham, who was favourable to the Jews, in power, seemed an impossibility, that Lord Beaconsfield’s great-grandfather determined to send the youngest of his two sons to England. The name of this son was Benjamin, and soon after his settlement in this country he took up his abode at Enfield, in Middlesex, WANIE SEAT, (OUP ISIE COIN SIIGETE IDE, to Gs The precise date of the migration of the ancestors of Lord Beaconsfield from Spain to Venice is not recorded; ‘at the end of the fifteenth century,’ Lord Beaconsfield somewhat vaguely fixes it; but as the persecution by Torquemada began in 1484, and continued some fourteen years, we may fix on 1495 as very nearly the date. John de Torquemada was the confessor of Queen Isabella, and he worked upon her superstitious nature to such an extent as to draw from her a pledge that, should she ever reign, heresy should be stamped out; and a terrible process that proved. On the Moors who remained in Granada after their brethren had been expelled by King Ferdinand, and on the unhappy Jews, the hand of the spiritual power fell with crushing weight. Neither age nor sex was spared if the charge of heresy was established; all were obliged to submit or perish. If they yielded, they were called in derision Christzanos Novos, and were little more than permitted to exist, being looked down upon with scorn by other Christians, and persecuted by a social degradation almost worse to endure than actual torture or imprisonment. ‘A general jealousy and suspicion took possession of all ranks of people; friendship and sociability were at an end. Brothers were afraid of brothers, and fathers of their children.’ During that fourteen years, Torquemada, as Isaac D'Israeli notes in his article on the Inquisition,t is said to have prosecuted near eighty thousand persons, of whom six thousand were condemned to the flames. King Ferdinand, with the fierce fanatic Torquemada as agent, in short reduced Jews and Moors alike to a choice of alternatives—they must either conform and become good Catholics, fly the country, or perish at the stake. Many conformed, outwardly at least, many as we have seen perished, and many fled—the D’Israelis amongst the number. Of the history of the family during the two hundred years’ residence in Venice little is preserved. The only career open to them would be commerce; and the pursuits of commerce though exciting enough to those immediately concerned, and important in their influence on the fortunes, both of individuals © Curiosities of Literature,’ edition 1824, vol. 1, p. 292, Dl AUN ZAIRE (CIEA TNNATE, ICMAME (OUP and of the state, offer little to attract the attention of the annalist or to gain the applause of the historian. It was in the year 1749, four years after the suppression of the great invasion in favour of the exiled Stuarts, that the Benjamin D'Israeli who was destined to be the founder of the most illustrious branch of the family arrived in England, as Lord Beaconsfield notes in the memoir we have mentioned. The young Jewish immigrant— he was but eighteen-——appears to have been a man of great natural talents for commerce, and of intense energy, and we may reasonably conclude that he did not land on our shores destitute either of influential connections or of commercial status. Neither would the branch of the family who had ‘flourished as merchants’ for so long a period in Venice, be likely to send out a cadet of the house unprovided for, or without the necessary capital to establish himself; and we may take it therefore that Benjamin D’Israeli was no penni- less adventurer, but a youth fairly launched into the world, and with more than usual opportunities of succeeding. That he did succeed is a matter to admit of no dispute; and though the story of his having been offered the contract for a Russian loan is to be received with some caution, it is almost certain that he was never a ‘poor’ man in the ordinary acceptation of the term, while it is quite established that ere his death he was—even as we reckon fortunes now-a-days—a tolerably rich one." Either from accident, from temperament, or from a cautious desire not to cripple his commercial ventures by the cares and expenses of a family, Benjamin D’Israeli remained unmarried until his thirty- sixth year, when he was, in 1765, united to a lady who seems to have been chiefly remarkable for her beauty, and her detestation of everything which tended to remind her of her Jewish descent. In the introduction to his father’s works, of which we have already spoken, Earl Beaconsfield thus alludes to her: ‘My grandmother, the beautiful daughter of a family who had suffered much from persecution, had imbibed the dislike for her race which the vain are ? When his will was proved the personal estate was sworn under £35,000,—l/ustraled London News. 24 ZAIN AIPVEIRIEICILALTONN TE, ILIGEIE (OF im vette a Acamalleet SPOKE, seus. — the beautiful daughter of a family who had suffered mucn wow persecution, had imbibed the dislike for her race which the vain are 1 When his will was proved the personal estate was sworn under £35,000,—JMustvaled London News. bo On THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD. too apt to adopt when they find they are born to public contempt.’ It has, we think, been somewhat hastily asserted on the strength of this, and one or two other sentences, that the beautiful wife of the first of the English D’Israelis was a disbeliever in the faith of her people, but the evidence hardly goes so far as that. Though it is somewhat difficult to reconcile a dislike of everything Jewish with the conviction that the Jews were a chosen and peculiar people, yet experience shows us that many persons, while conceding to the Hebrews the honour of being the recipients of Revelation, yet act towards them as though they were some inferior or unworthy race—they receive with reverence the message, but omit no means of showing their contempt for those to whom the message was in the first instance delivered. That Benjamin D’Israeli the elder was not by any means a man who scrupulously observed the ordinances of the Mosaic law and the ceremonials of the synagogue is pretty evident, but he was perhaps simply not zealous for, rather than antagonistic to, the faith of his fathers; and his attitude is, in all probability, pretty accurately described in Mr. Picciotto’s remark that he ‘did not take a great interest in synagogue matters.’ Mr, D’Isracli was, we should fancy, more a man of the world than a religious enthusiast—keen, shrewd, striving and determined in business matters, but, apart from them, something of a man of pleasure in a quiet fashion, We can well understand that he might be liberal in his charities, and pay with cheerfulness his /zta, or synagogue tax, which Mr. Picciotto tells us rose from 19s. per annum to £22 13s. 4d, and yet not care to accept office, or, when it was forced upon him, resign it at the earliest practicable moment. He tried for twelve months the duties of inspector of the charity school in connection with the Spanish synagogue in Bevis Marks, but that was the sum total of his official experiences. The Jewish merchant, after his retire- ment to Enfield, seems to have led a quiet, pleasant life, occupying himself with forming an Italian garden, and (his grandson tells us) playing whist with his friend Sir Horace Mann, ‘who had 20 AN APPRECIATIVE LIFE OF known his brother in Venice as a banker ;’ ‘eating macaroni which was dressed by the Venetian Consul,’ and otherwise making the best of a world which, except in respect to matrimonial happiness, must have been for him a very pleasant one. Such, so far as his portrait has come down to us, was Benjamin D'Israeli, the father of Isaac D’Israeli, and grandfather of the late Lord Beaconsfield—and assuredly there was little in his career which would mark him out as an extraordinary man. Probably, indeed, the genius which in different aspects marked his two imme- diate descendants was inherited in no small degree from the mother's side; and the scornful and beautiful Jewess who disliked her race, who never pardoned her husband his name, and who we are afraid was not by any means the tenderest of mothers, may have trans- mitted, nevertheless, to her grandson that intense and determined spirit which marked him in all phases of his career, and which sustained him under difficulties that would have crushed a man of weaker fibre, or of less resolute character, Isaac D'Israeli was born in May, 1766, at his father’s residence at Enfield, and was in due course initiated by the usual rites into the Jewish faith, Of his early years we do not learn much. His education was at first of a somewhat scrambling and hap- hazard character. He attended a local school, at which he does not appear to have acquired a great deal, and he then was put under the hands of a private tutor. While yet young, however, he was sent to Amsterdam and Leyden, and here he received the greater part of the education he possessed. He learned modern languages pretty readily, but was not so successful in his classical studies. In truth, the tutors to whom he was committed cannot have been very exacting, and Isaac D Israeli was suffered very much to study what he liked when once the regulation lessons were disposed of. Naturally enough the lad, left to himself, took up with the literary fashions of his day, and as all young people, and many old ones, were at the time crazy with admiration of Jean Jaques Rousseau and the writers of his school, Isaac D’Israeli became THE BARL OF BEACONSFIELD. 27 a worshipper too. The craze was a natural one, but it had its natural result of making the young enthusiast behave ridiculously. On his return home he was received, not as he expected, with tender out- bursts of sentimental affection on the part of his mother, but with outbursts of scarcely disguised laughter. The romantic youth had looked forward to this interview—the information is supplied by his son, and no doubt came originally from himself—and planned a meeting of ‘sublime pathos.’ The shock to him was terrible, but we have no doubt it, as the phrase goes, ‘did him good’ by raising some suspicion in his mind that Jean Jaques was not quite the author on whose precepts life and behaviour should be modelled. He retired in lofty indignation to his apartment, and characteristically revenged himself by ‘composing an impassioned epistle’ and a poem. This last he is rumoured to have taken to Bolt Court with the intention of submitting it to Dr. Johnson, but the great lexicographer was then on his death-bed, and it is probable that the poem never reached him. Why Dr. Johnson, of all men, was selected as a peculiarly likely person to sympathise with a romantic youth brimming over with Rousseauism and wounded vanity we are not told, and it would be difficult to conjecture, unless we conclude, as one writer has done, that there was a certain identity of feeling; that ‘the high church and Jacobite notions’ of the doctor were closely in accordance with those of an admirer of the Hebrew theocracy.' At this time, however, Isaac D’Israeli’s mind was in a ferment, and the impression that he was an unappreciated genius, though natural enough, did not conduce to either his own comfort or that of the family. His wish was to be an author—he in after days changed his opinions as to the delights attendant on the exercise of that craft—while his father was desirous that he should adopt a commercial career. The disagreement could not be accommodated, and the matter ended in Isaac being sent on 1 He had, too, always a high opinion of Dr. Johnson. In the Gentleman’s Magazine for December, 1786, will be found an essay occupying four pages, signed B. D’I., entitled ‘Some Remarks on the Biographical Account of the late Samucl Johnson, LL.D., with an Attempt to Vindicate his Character from late Misrepresentation.’ 28 AUN AU ETETECIENTAW IE ILENE. (OE: a tour through France and Italy, during which he perfected himself in the French and Italian languages, and enlarged his acquaintance with the literature of both. He returned to England in 1788 with, it is recorded, ‘some little knowledge of life, and a considerable quantity of books,’ By this time his father was convinced that Isaac had no ability suited to, nor any liking for, commercial pursuits, and the long struggle between father and son ended in the young man ‘setting up’ as an author, or rather, perhaps we should say, devoting himself to literature. In after years Isaac D'Israeli probably formed a truer estimate of the wish of his father to induce him to adopt commerce rather than literature, for we find him asking in the preface to his ‘Calamities of Authors,’ ‘What affectionate parent would consent to see his son devote himself to his pen as a profession?’ though against this we may fairly set another remark made by him when, referring to the treatment of Drayton, the author of ‘Polyolbion,’ by the booksellers, he says, ‘Knavery has a strong connection with trade.’ An author, however, Isaac D’Israeli was destined to become, and, on the whole, it was, we think, a fortunate thing for him that he could so content himself, for assuredly he was not a man to have fought his way to wealth and distinction in commercial pursuits. His was a quietly studious mind, and his amiable disposition predisposed him towards a life which did not bring him into rude conflict with an unsym- pathising world. What was Isaac D’Israeli's first work it would be difficult to say. That he already dabbled in poetry we have seen, and there is reason to believe that he, amidst his literary studies and researches, found time to publish a number of fugitive pieces of poetry, one of which tradition says was spoken of highly by Sir Walter Scott. A contemporary writer’ states, ‘The earliest performance avowedly by Mr. D’Israeli is “A Poetical Epistle on the Abuse of Satire,” which was written, we understand, to gratify a certain man of letters, who was his neighbour, and who smarted under the scourge of Peter x ‘Public Characters,’ 1798 9, p. 489. WAS IE AURIE (1B IBLE ANCOUIN, SIU LAO). 29 Pindar. As a first production it exhibits his poetical talents to considerable advantage. This effusion afterwards procured for him the friendship of Dr. Walcott, who not only encouraged his poetical efforts by unequivocal marks of his approbation, but conferred on him still more useful services, by many proofs of his friendship. In 1790, Mr. D’Israeli made a more formal appearance in public by addressing a poem, entitled “A Defence of Poetry,” to the Laureate. The whole edition, excepting a few copies sold, was burnt by the author; undeservedly it seems, for the JZonthly Review of March, 1791, gives him the following character: ‘“ Mr. D’Israeli is among the few modern poets who have attained their (the muses) favour; they appear from the testimony before us to have dis- tinguished him from the crowd, and to have allowed him a plenteous draught from their fountain of inspiration, He is not without a knowledge of genuine poetry; his versification is elegant, flowing, and harmonious; nor can we read this specimen of his abilities without perceiving that he has devoted his days and his nights to our immortal Pope.”’ That he was acquainted with Pye, the Poet-Laureate—the Pye of the well known line, ‘Better be wrong with Pope than right with Pye’—is certain; but such an acquaintance would hardly lead to the conclusion that Isaac D’Israeli himself could possess much of the true poetical feeling. A man who had probably much more influence over his mind, and one who we have reason to suppose gave him the hint of his great work, ‘The Curiosities of Literature,’ was James Pettit Andrews; for D’Israeli, in the twelfth edition of his work, refers pointedly to Andrews’ ‘Anecdotes Ancient and Modern,’ and to William Seward’s ‘Anecdotes of Distinguished Personages, remarking ‘these volumes were favourably received, and to such a degree that a wit of that day, and who is still a wit as well as a poet, considered that we were “far gone in our anecdotage.”’ He then goes on ‘I conceived the idea of a collection of a different complexion. I was then seeking for instruction in modern literature and our language furnished no collection of ves 30 PANE AURA CTEA TIA IL MUIPIS. (OUP litterarie. In the diversified volumes of the French Axa I found materials to work on. I improved my subjects with as much of my own literature as my limited studies afforded. The volume without a name was left to its own unprotected condition.’ This refers no doubt to the first volume, and we may take it as a proof that it was from Andrews’ book that the original idea of a collection of literary anecdotes came into D'Israeli’s mind. The work was almost immediately successful. The first volume, published in 1791, was in a few years followed by a second, and by a third in 1817, These three volumes went through many editions and gained in popularity, for we find the author stating in the preface to the edition of 1824, published by Murray, in three volumes, ‘This work has proved useful; it has been reprinted abroad and it has been translated; and the honour which many writers at home have conferred on it, by referring to it, has exhilarated the zealous labour which frequent editions have necessarily exacted,’—a boast which seems to have been quite justified by the facts of the case. A second series of the ‘Curiosities’ was afterwards published in three volumes and became equally popular. The other literary works of Isaac D'Israeli were: ‘Literary Miscellanies,’ ‘The Quarrels of Authors,’ ‘Calamities of Authors,’ ‘The Literary Character,’ ‘Character of James I.,’ ‘The Secret History of Charles I.,’ ‘Amenities of Authors,’ ‘Portraiture of Judaism,’ and many others which will be found in the celebrated edition of his works. He also published an oriental tale, ‘Mejnoun and Leila,’ a story which is remarkable at least for the correctness of its delineations of costumes and manners whatever may be its merits as a narrative; and he issued too a ‘Literary Romance,’ of which he was subsequently, we believe, not particularly proud. His fame rests, principally, on his ‘Curiosities of Literature,’ or at least that is the work by which he is most generally known and remembered. That it is a ‘great’ work we are not prepared to affirm, but it is one which had considerable influence on the litera- ture of its day, and which will continue to be read with delight TT ARID OP WEIZAGON SLE LL; 31 so long as we have lovers of literary history amongst us. To pro- duce such a work required a peculiar combination of qualities, and a combination which is not by any means usual. The extent of ground over which D’Israeli ranges is immense. The works of writers of all nations are laid under contribution, and the author never seems to look on any trouble as too great to be undertaken if only some point of interest can be elucidated. And with what gossiping ease are these stores of erudition laid before us. Though undoubtedly a man of almost immense acquirements, Isaac D’Israeli never obtrudes his learning or bores his readers, He gives one the impression of learned leisure desirous to instruct and amuse the passing hour, and so pleasantly does his pen stray on, that we are scarcely conscious that the results which are so chattily stated have only been reached by prolonged and careful investigations, and that the racy anecdote or curious* passage is the one solitary grain of wheat which has been separated from many bushels of literary chaff. In all his works there is hardly a dull page, and it is indisputable that their general effect has been, what he himself states to have been their design, namely, to ‘stimulate the literary curiosity of those who, with a taste for its tranquil pursuits, are impeded in their acquirements.'’ The lovers of literature are naturally interested in the lives of men of letters, and D’Israeli, in his ‘Quarrels of Authors’ and ‘Calamities of Authors, has given what we may term the comedy and tragedy of professional authorship, just as in ‘The Literary Character’ he has essayed to, as far as possible define what is the peculiar combination of faculties which goes to make up that curious compound, an author. One feature of Isaac D’Israeli’s writings which we may also note is their wide spirit of charity and toleration, Whatever he may be he is not prejudiced. His leanings are in the direction of legitimacy, due subjection to authority and the established order of things, but they are never so pronounced as to sway his judgment. He can denounce oppression as heartily as the most rampant of t Preface Ed, ‘Curiosities of Literature,’ 1824. 32 AI AISA CIATA WIE I EIR ONE & revolutionists, he abhors religious persecution, but dislikes, almost as much, disrespect to religious convictions; but he ever seems glad to escape altogether from these jarring elements into his favourite world of books, there to occupy himself with the calm examination of forgotten griefs, sorrows, and triumphs, and with curious searches into odd corners and byeways of history. It is a mark of Isaac D'Israeli's unprejudiced spirit that he was one of the first of our literary men to do something like justice to the characters of the first two Stuarts, and his acknowledgement of his mistaken estimate of the character of James is as honourable to him as a man as it is creditable to his industry as an investigator of the history of our country. In the earlier editions of the ‘Curiosities of Literature’ he, following the usual authorities, represented James in a most unfavourable light; but he added at the close of the article, ‘I pro- posed to have examined with some care the works of James I,, but that uninviting task has been now postponed till it is too late. As a writer his works may not be valuable, and are infected with the pedantry and superstition of the age; yet I suspect that James was not that degraded and feeble character in which he ranks by the contagious voice of criticism.’ In the edition of 1824 he makes this further addition: ‘This article, composed thirty years ago, dis- plays the effects of first impressions and popular clamours,’ and he then goes on to state how he has been undeceived, and to refer the reader to his ‘Enquiry into the Literary and Political Character of James I,’ as a ‘corrective.’ His ‘Life of Charles I.’ is a really important contribution to English history, and places the character of that maligned monarch in a light more favourable and much more just. For this work Isaac D'Israeli received from the University of Oxford the honorary degree of D.C.L. as a testimony of their respect ; to use the language of the public orator—optimi regis optimo defensort. Isaac D'Israeli’s work entitled ‘Portraiture of Judaism’ is now almost forgotten, except by those to whom the subject is of special interest; yet we are told by one well qualified to judge*™ that 1 The late Dr, W, C, Taylor. See article in Bentley's Miscellany for March, 1848, TE ZAR NOR VBE ACON SHIEID, 33 it is a production of ‘singular merit,’ and shews that D’Israeli was ‘a diligent student’ of Maimonides, Aben Ezra, Manasseh Ben Israel, and of Moses Mendelsohn—a recommendation which may be taken as decisive of the point of value of the work as a contribution to an unusually difficult and important controversy. In this connection it will not be out of place if we glance at a feature in Isaac D’Israeli’s life as to which there has been considerable controversy, namely, his acceptance or non-acceptance of the tenets of the religion of his race. This particular point has been patiently investigated by Mr. Picciotto," who may be said to have gathered all the information available, and whose conclusions are now generally accepted, From Mr. Picciotto’s researches it is evident that Isaac D'Israeli, though never a zealous member of the synagogue, was yet an occasional attendant at the place of worship of the Sephardim Jews in Bevis Marks, and was a rather liberal contributor to the various charities. With a view, perhaps, of stimulating his lagging zeal, the congregation in October, 1813, elected him Parnass or warden of the synagogue, an honour or a responsibility—it may be regarded as either or both—which Isaac D’Israeli refused to accept. The congregation insisted that he should discharge the duties, and an angry correspondence ensued, in the course of which we find D'Israeli writing as follows: ‘A person who has lived out of the sphere of your observations—of retired habits of life—who can never unite in your public worship, because, as now conducted, it disturbs instead of exciting religious emotions—who has only tolerated some part of your ritual, willing to concede all he can on those matters which he holds to be indifferent; such a man with but a moderate portion of honour and understanding, never can attempt the solemn functions of an elder of your congregation, and involve his life and distract his business pursuits, not in temporary, but in permanent duties almost repulsive to his feelings.’ These words conclusively prove that Isaac D’Israeli was not by any means in accord in matters of doctrine with the majority of his «Sketches of Anglo-Jewish History.’ Triibner, 34 ALINE AUN OIAIDINVIS JETURID (OF brethren, but they also show, we think, that he was not at the time they were written contemplating any separation from the Jewish communion as a body, for he tells his fellow Hebrews connected with Bevis Marks that he is ‘willing to concede all he can on those matters which he holds to be indifferent,’ which is hardly the expression that would be made use of by one to whom Judaism as a creed was mere superstition, or who regarded the worship of his fathers as an antiquated ceremonial. The congregational leaders were not, however, wise enough to let the matter drop. As Isaac D'Israeli would not serve, he was fined. The fines levied he refused to pay, and requested that his name should be struck out of the synagogue lists. So the matter stood for some four years, until 1821 in fact, when an arrangement was come to whereby Isaac D'lsraeli paid a sum of £40 17s. as synagogue fees up to 1817, the fines were commuted, his name was formally taken off the congregational list, and he severed for ever his connection with the worship of his fathers. That this step was taken without much pain is not probable, but there can be little doubt that it was a wise one, for Isaac D’Israeli was in a false position when allied to an ecclesiastical organisation with which he had merely a sentimental or traditional sympathy. Thus relieved from the trammels of a to him—uncongenial church discipline, Isaac D'Israeli continued to live his own quiet and uneventful life, passing his days in his study or in conversation with men of letters, or in superintending the issue of fresh editions of his works. In 1841 a great misfortune, however, fell upon him, for he was stricken with partial blindness. This was a terrible affliction for a man of his peculiar turn of mind; but he found a loving amanuensis and assistant in his daughter Sarah, aided by whom he produced his ‘Amenities of Literature,’ and gave a final revision to his work on ‘The Reign of Charles I.’ He writes thus pathetically on his grievous deprivation, and the means by which it was made less afflicting: ‘Amid this partial darkness I am not left without a distant hope nor a present emulation; and to er who has so Tdi WEA NO “BYUZACOIN Si lie le), 35 often lent me the light of her eyes, the intelligence of her voice, and the careful work of her hand, the author must ever “owe the debt immense” of paternal gratitude.’ This daughter, Sarah D’Israeli, who died unmarried, was the eldest of the family and the right hand of her father in all his literary work, subsequent to his partial deprivation of sight. Isaac D’Israeli had married early in 1802, Maria, daughter of Mr. Joshua Basevi, an architect of some eminence, and had by her, in addition to the daughter already mentioned who was born in December, 1802, Benjamin (the late Earl of Beaconsfield), born 21st December, 1804; Ralph, born in 1809; and James, born in 1813. Mrs. D’Israeli does not appear to have been a woman in any way remarkable, but our information about her is of so scanty a nature that anything more than conjecture as to how far her influence moulded the character of her illustrious son is out of the question; possibly in the retirement of home the future Premier may have learned from his mother’s lips stories of the past glories of his race; but though the picture of such a community of thought between mother and son would be attractive enough, it must be honestly confessed that there is no evidence that such an influence was exerted. For his father, Earl Beaconsfield, as a young man, always showed the greatest respect and veneration; and though it is a little premature chronologically, we may here quote a description given by an eye-witness of the father and son—D’Israeli the elder, and D’Israeli the younger—as they appeared together at Lady Bles- sington’s: ‘Two persons of different ages, and different appearance indeed, yet not without a strong mutual resemblance of feature. The pair are Mr. D’Israeli the elder, and Mr. D’Israeli the younger; and Lady Blessington receives them both with conspicuous welcome. It was only the other day that her ladyship was mentioning to a visitor how delightful it was to witness the old man’s pride in his clever young son, and the son’s respect and affection for his father.’ That this was no mere passing feeling, but one which had its roots deep down in his nature, the manner in which Benjamin Disraeli always spoke and wrote of his father abundantly proves; and the 36 AUIS URTEISIECHAINAE ILIV (UE deep respect which the son invariably manifested was, we believe, shared in by all who were familiar with the old gentleman’s kind- liness and geniality. A personal friend of ours who, over forty years ago, resided in Buckinghamshire, and had the honour of frequent invitations from Isaac D’Israeli, speaks in feeling terms of the many excellent qualities which this sincere lover of literature possessed in a pre-eminent degree. He describes him as being an amiable and pleasant companion, and a man for whom no one who knew him could avoid entertaining feelings of admiration and esteem, The family always appeared a very happy one, and was a family remarkable for ability and culture, and one with which it was a pleasure as well as a privilege to associate, even in the slightest degree. Our correspondent has favoured us with several reminiscences which it may not be uninteresting to reproduce. He says he re- members, one pleasant summer’s evening, being invited by Isaac D'Israeli to play a game of chess with Benjamin, who was always a favourite with his father, as he was a favourite also with the rest of the family. Benjamin was a shrewd and cautious player; and our friend, dubious of his own abilities, was disposed at first to decline the invitation. But Mr. D'Israeli senior would hear of no excuse and the game therefore commenced —the old gentleman watching the competitors with considerable interest. The contest ended in favour of our correspondent, who, in answer to a question from Mr. D’Israeli as to how he had succeeded in obtaining the victory, replied that he had played a ‘pawn’ game. Benjamin, he said, had played with great men, with the large pieces, whilst he had played with the small ones, and their judicious use had enabled him to win,—an explanation which Mr. D’Israeli received with manifestations of interest and curiosity. Our correspondent was much struck on his visit with the deep reverence which the young D'Israeli invariably displayed for his father, and the love which the father showed for his handsome and promising son. Though Benjamin had not then made much headway in his political career, Whale JE AIKIE, (ONG esi ANC OUN SHEMMB IE 1D). 37 had not won any notable position, or earned much fame, there was a firm conviction in the minds of his friends that he was destined to play no ordinary part in the political life of the future. Our corres- pondent recalls vividly a conversation he had with James Disraeli who was a great believer in the genius of his elder brother. They were speaking on political subjects, and incidentally, on a reference being made to Benjamin’s opinions and prospects, James remarked with great emphasis that his brother had not only great ability but great confidence in his own powers; that he was nobly ambitious, earnest, and determined; and that, if they lived and he lived, they would have the pleasure of seeing him some day in positions of honour and distinction. Such recollections, truthful as we know them to be, are worth recalling as throwing light upon the happy home and the home influences which Benjamin Disraeli enjoyed—a hap- piness which Isaac D’Israeli did his best to create, and beneficial influences which, as a loving and an anxious father, he did his best to exercise. An ‘epidemic’ to which his son alludes, and which caused the death of Isaac D’Israeli, was a severe attack of influenza, which, neglected at first, gained such headway as to prove fatal. Isaac D'Israeli died on January 19th, 1848, aged eighty-two years, at his seat at Bradenham House, Bucks, whither he had removed from Bloomsbury Square in 1825. A monument was in after years raised by Viscountess Beaconsfield to his memory, the site being a rising ground in the vicinity of Hughenden; and in the parish church of Bradenham there is also a memorial tablet which was erected by the family soon after his death. The personal appearance of the author of the ‘Curiosities of Literature’ may be judged from the graphic portrait which accompanies this work, etched, by kind per- mission of Messrs. G. Routledge & Sons, from the excellent stecl engraving prefixed to their edition of Isaac D’Israeli’s famous work. That the literary tastes and pursuits of Isaac D’Israeli influenced in a great degree the opinions, the social career, and even the political life of his illustrious son, is beyond dispute. How far they 38 AUIS, AUETEISIE(CILA WWE JLIMEIE. (OVE did so, however, we will not here consider, as such an estimate will come more appropriately when we have to examine, as fairly and as thoroughly as possible, the intellectual growth of Benjamin Disraeli himself. That to understand the career of the late Lord Beaconsfield one must take into account the character of both his remote ancestors and of his immediate predecessor we are convinced, and that would be but a very superficial and one-sided estimate which left out of sight the circumstance that Benjamin Disraeli was, as he, half seriously and half jocularly, put the matter, ‘born in a library,’ and that his father was one of the leading literary celebrities of an age remarkable for intellectual activity, and for what we may term a revival of polite letters. THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD. 30 CHAPTER TEI BIRTH AND TRAINING. ‘Do not suppose,’ he added, smiling, ‘that I hold that youth is genius; all that I say is that genius when young is divine,’—Conzngsby, ENJAMIN DISRAELI was born on the 21st of December, 1804: we give this date on the authority of Picciotto," though there seems to have been a doubt on the subject, seeing that other books—‘Lodge’s Peerage’ for instance—give it as 1805. The family of Isaac D’Israeli consisted, as we have already mentioned, of three sons and a daughter, and Benjamin was the oldest son. The place where he was born, is equally with the date of his birth, difficult to define. The fact is, his father, during the earlier period of his married life, several times changed his abode. He is said to have lived first in Adelphi; in 1809, he removed to King’s Road; and subsequently, in order to be within easy distance of the British Museum, where, bookworm as he was, he loved to spend portions of his leisure, he took up his residence at the corner of Bloomsbury Square. It seemed probable that it was in the Adelphi that Benjamin Disraeli first saw the light, and this supposition is borne out by a statement to the same effect which he is said to have made to Lord Barrington a few days before his death. ‘ My father,’ his lordship is reported to have said, ‘was not rich when he married. He took a suite of apartments in the Adelphi, and, as he possessed a large collection of books, all the rooms were covered with them, including that in which I was born. There may be other evidence in favour of the Adelphi with which we are unacquainted; but the point is, after all, by no means clear. It is well known that residents in Bloomsbury Square have for years past looked upon one of the t ‘Sketches of Anglo-Jewish History,’ p. 300, 40 AUN GU PAPEISECILATANW IE JLMUEE (OM houses there as the late Earl’s birthplace; and the tradition, if so it may be termed, remains to this day as much believed in as ever it was in the locality. Mr. Truefitt, of No. 5, Bloomsbury Square, in a letter recently published, states, ‘When I took offices here, above five and twenty years ago, I was informed by those who had known the house for many years that Benjamin Disraeli was born in this house, and I have never since heard anything to cause me to doubt the believed fact.’ But whatever part of the great city Disraeli may have been born in, it is clear that he was ushered into the world, amid remarkable surroundings: he was a native of no mean city, a member of a despised but remarkable race, and cradled in a library, for his father’s house was crowded with books and papers. Around him were the evidences of greatness, If he looked, as a boy, outside his house, he saw what commercial enterprise and scientific skill had achieved; if he looked within at his father’s well-filled shelves, he saw what genius and literary taste had accomplished. And there was he, a representative of a race subject to much ignominy, planted in the midst of a great people, with the wide world before him, to do battle with, and struggle through, under circumstances that were in many respects discouraging and disadvantageous. That he was reared in the Jewish faith has been generally conceded. Mr. Picciotto states that he was, at the usual age of eight days, initiated into the covenant of Abraham by the hands of a relative, a merchant of high standing. The registry of the synagogue in Bevis Marks has since been searched and in it an entry discovered showing that Benjamin Disraeli, born on a Friday, 21 December, 1804 (Jewish date, 19 Tebet, 5565), was circumcised by D. A. Lindo, 26 Tebet, 5565; the attesting witness being D. J. De Castro, His father had however been gradually wavering in his adhesion to his ancestral faith, and on July 31, 1817, the youth was taken to St. Andrews, Holborn, and there baptized a Christian. The clergyman was the Rev. J. Thimbleby, and the entry in the register runs thus: ‘Benjamin (said to be about twelve Ue Ale OFF VEEP AGOMS: LTS LED), 4t years old), son of Isaac and Maria D’Israeli, King’s road, gentleman.’ Much has been written as to the religious opinions of Lord Beacons- field, and it has been insinuated that if not a Jew in faith, he was a sceptic and unbeliever. It is true the Earl never made any plausible pretensions to piety. He took no conspicuous part in the work of any religious body, nor stood, like the Pharisee, in public places to display his religion that he might be seen and admired of men. He copied the more honourable though less showy part of the publican in the parable, and quietly, when at his Hughenden home, offered up his prayers in the little parish church, within whose precincts his body now lies. According to the testimony of the much respected Vicar of Hughenden, his lordship was a communicant, and doubtless a devoted member of the Church of England. That he took deep interest in the welfare of the church his whole life testifies; that he adopted her practices and followed her precepts is beyond a doubt. He set an example when at home of constant attendance to religious duties; and he gave evidence of his deep reverence for great truths by adopting them as the rule of his life and conduct. Of that charity which never faileth the Vicar of Hughenden has spoken; and what more do we need than the dying statement, ‘I should like to live, but I am not afraid to die.’ Let the Earl’s critics, who profess greater piety than he, say whether they could truthfully and with a clear conscience make a similar asservation, The school to which the youthful Disraeli was first sent was a ladies’ school at Islington, kept by the two Miss Rapers. From thence he was sent to the Rev. Mr. Potticary, a Unitarian minister, who had opened a school at Elliott Place, Blackheath; and subse- quently he was transferred to Walthamstowe, where he was placed under the tutorial care of Mr. Cogan, Of Mr. Potticary we have not been able to learn much. He is said to have removed from Nottingham to Blackheath, but at what date we cannot ascertain. Inquiries have been courteously made for us in Nottingham, but no old residents have been met with who could recollect Mr. Potticary as a schoolmaster in the 42 ZAUIN| UITOISIE( CIENT SWAE [LMI (OB borough. The probability is that he was but an usher in a Nottingham school before starting for himself at Blackheath.