cynicism, the excess of flattery accorded at one time to Peel for purely
personal objects contrasted with the excess of vituperation poured
forth on O'Connell for purposes of advertisement, and the total absence
of any moral principle as a guide of life--all these features, in a
character which is perhaps not quite so complex as is often supposed,
hail from the East. What is not Eastern is his unconventionality, his
undaunted moral courage, and his ready conception of novel political
ideas--often specious ideas, resting on no very solid foundation, but
always attractive, and always capable of being defended by glittering
plausibilities. He was certainly a man of genius, and he used that
genius to found a political school based on extreme self-seeking
opportunism. In this respect he cannot be acquitted of the charge of
having contributed towards the degradation of English political life.

Mr. Monypenny's first volume deals with Disraeli's immature youth. In
the second, the story of the period (1837-46) during which Disraeli rose
to power is admirably told, and a most interesting story it is.

Whatever views one may adopt of Disraeli's character and career, it is
impossible not to be fascinated in watching the moral and intellectual
development of this very remarkable man, whose conduct throughout life,
far from being wayward and erratic, as has at times been somewhat
superficially supposed, was in reality in the highest degree
methodical, being directed with unflagging persistency to one end, the
gratification of his own ambition--an ambition, it should always be
remembered, which, albeit it was honourable, inasmuch as it was directed
to no ignoble ends, was wholly personal. If ever there was a man to whom
Milton's well-known lines could fitly be applied it was Disraeli. He
scorned delights. He lived laborious days. In his youth he eschewed
pleasures which generally attract others whose ambition only soars to a
lower plane. In the most intimate relations of life he subordinated all
private inclinations to the main object he had in view. He avowedly
married, in the first instance, for money, although at a later stage his
wife was able to afford herself the consolation, and to pay him the
graceful compliment of obliterating the sordid reproach by declaring
that "if he had the chance again he would marry her for love"--a
statement confirmed by his passionate, albeit somewhat histrionic
love-letters. The desire of fame, whic