greets the weary
pilgrim, in which a guardian angel talks in the best style of Sidonia or
Disraeli. But we are constantly distracted by our guide's irresistible
propensity for a little political satire. A Syrian Vivian Grey is
introduced to us, whose intrigues are as audacious and futile as those
of his English parallel, but whose office seems to be the purely
satirical one of interpreting Tancred's lofty dreams into political
intrigues suited to a shrewd but ignorant Oriental. Once we are
convinced that the promise is to be fulfilled. Tancred reaches the
strange tribe of the Ansarey, shrouded in a more than Chinese seclusion.
Can they be the guardians of the 'Asian mystery'? To our amazement it
turns out that they are of the faith of Mr. Phoebus of 'Lothair.' They
have preserved the old gods of paganism; and their hopes, which surely
cannot be those of Disraeli, are that the world will again fall
prostrate before Apollo (who has a striking likeness to Tancred) or
Astarte. What does it all mean? or does it all mean anything? The most
solemn revelation has been given by that mysterious figure which
appeared in Sinai, in 'the semblance of one who, though not young, was
still untouched by time; a countenance like an Oriental night, dark yet
lustrous, mystical yet clear. Thought, rather than melancholy, spoke
from the pensive passion of his eyes; while on his lofty forehead
glittered a star that threw a solemn radiance on the repose of his
majestic forehead.' After explaining that he was the Angel of Arabia,
this person told Tancred to 'announce the sublime and solacing doctrine
of Theocratic Equality.' But when Tancred, after his startling
adventures, got back to Jerusalem, he found his anxious parents, the
Duke and Duchess of Bellamont, accompanied by the triumvirate of
bear-leaders which their solicitude had appointed to look after
him--Colonel Brace, the Rev. Mr. Bernard, and Dr. Roby. And thus the
novel ends like the address of Miss Hominy. 'Out laughs the stern
philosopher,' or, shall we say, the incarnation of commonplace, 'What,
ho! arrest me that wandering agency; and so, the vision fadeth.'
Theocratic equality has not yet taken its place as an electioneering
cry.

Has our guide been merely blowing bubbles for our infantile amusement?
Surely he has been too solemn. We could have sworn that some of the
passages were written, if not with tears in his eyes, at least with a
genuine sensibility to the solemn and roman