Page:Memoir of B. D'Israeli.pdf/4

Rh is the creation as new as it is beautiful. The royal slave is brought from her courtly cloister, proud; but what a lovely pride!—ignorant, but only of the actual—with talents that need only the necessity of exertion—and, above all, a heart, feminine in all the poetry and passion of that word.

There is one of those touches in the description of the review, which marks the first-rate conceiver of character. The eye of the daughter of a high-born and martial race flashes at the warlike pageantry. The descendant of Maria Theresa is keenly alive to the "pomp and circumstance of glorious war;" and in truth there is nothing more exciting than a discharge of artillery. The physical effect is wonderful when along the air "leaps the live thunder;"—it brings with it an awe mingled with conscious power, while the spirits are completely carried away by the mighty music.

Another quality of Mr. D'Israeli's mind is his command over the grotesque. Nature has her fantasies that few know how to seize. In the material world, they are shown by strange combinations; rocks, caverns, and trees, are fashioned after the wildest caprices. In the mind of man this wayward fancy is equally evident,—out of it grows the eccentric and the humourist; and a finer sketch of the latter was never flung upon paper than Beckendorf,—the recluse yet powerful minister. After all, it is little marvel that he who has much to do among men, should turn away from them in utter disgust, and find better companionship in the painted tulip and the singing bird.

"Contarini Fleming" was the next, and one of the most remarkable works ever produced. We are not aware of any other attempt in our language to develope the formation of the poetical character—or to trace the effects of "years that bring the inevitable yoke" on that sensitive and impassioned temperament which is inseparable from the poetical. It was written at Grand Cairo, and how much is there in it that bears evidence of the glowing East, with its golden summers—golden as if they did not shine but upon decay and desolation! "The marble wastes of Tadmor" are but an allegory of what a few years inevitably produce in every gifted and ardent mind. Never does it accomplish the object of its early dreams; the lofty arch, the noble column, fall to earth one after the other, and the hopeful spirit is gone that alone could rebuild. The remains of our greatest minds, what are they but wastes?—albeit the wastes are of marble.

Mr. D'Israeli has travelled a great deal, and it is interesting to note the countries in which his various works were produced. The first part of "Vivian Grey" was written in England—the first eager launch of the youth into London society. The second was written in Germany, and there we find the deeper tone that attends on awakening reflection, and the magnificent power of description which is peculiarly Mr. D'Israeli's own. "The Young Duke" was also the result of his leisure—a brilliant collection of epigrams springing up from remembered follies and pleasures. After a brief sojourn in England, Mr. D'Israeli again commenced travelling; he went to the south of Spain, proceeded to the Ionian Isles and Greece at a time of great action; he was at Yanina, the capital of Albania, and in the camp of the Grand Vizier, during the revolt of the Beys; thence he reached Constantinople, and left it to pass through Asia Minor and Syria; he next visited Egypt, and followed the course of the Nile to the Cataracts. The "Tale of Alroy" was planned amid the sepulchres of the kings of Judah, and the