otten with the breath which
uttered them. The note of scorn with which it rings has preserved it
better than any affectation of pious horror, which indeed would have
been out of place in the presence of such an assembly."

I have taken the liberty of giving such emphasis as italics can
confer to two brief passages in this brilliant description, because
they express Froude's real opinion of Diocesan Conferences and those
who frequented them.* Disraeli's audience applauded, partly in
admiration of his wit, and partly because, they thought that he was
amusing them at the expense of the latitudinarians they abhorred.
Froude's appreciation came from an opposite source. He regarded
Disraeli not as a flatterer, but as a busy mocker, laughing at the
people thought he was laughing with them. He made no attempt at a
really critical estimate of the most baffling figure in English
politics. He fastened on the picturesque aspects of Disraeli's
career, and touched them with an artist's hand. As to what it all
meant, or whether it meant anything, he left his readers as much, in
the dark as they were before. My own theory, if one must have a
theory, is that one word explains Disraeli, and that that word is
"ambition." If so, he was one of the most marvellously successful
men that ever lived. If not, and if a different standard should be
applied, other consequences would ensue. Froude gives no help in the
solution of the problem. What he does is to portray the original
genius which no absurdities could cover, and no obstacles could
restrain. Disraeli the "Imperialist" had no more to do with building
empires than with building churches, but he was twice Prime Minister
of England.

--
* Disraeli's contempt for italics is well known. He called them "the
last resort of the forcible Feebles."
--

Froude's Sea Studies in the third series of his collected essays are
chiefly a series of thoughts on the plays of Euripides. But, like so
much of his writing, they are redolent of the ocean, on which and
near which he always felt at home. The opening sentences of this
fresh and wholesome paper are too characteristic not to be quoted.

"To a man of middle age whose occupations have long confined him to
the unexhilarating atmosphere of a library, there is something
unspeakably delightful in a sea voyage. Increasing years, if they
bring little else that is agreeable with them, bring to some of us
immunity from sea-sickness. The regularity of hab