Disraeli might be, he certainly did not understand the rule-of-three-that all his figures of arithmetic were utterly wrong, and his figures of speech mere will-o'-the-wisps to lure the Boeotian mind. As for the minority of 252, that was nothing at all-an accident, a stolen surprise, a capital joke; anything, in short, but a solemn recognition, by a large portion of the aristocratic and trading communities that they were tired of being dictated to by demagogues and their puppets, and were ready to think of restoring the balance that had been so violently disturbed. As for Lord John Russell, he saw at once the political significance of the result of the division. He sedulously went out of his way to treat Mr. Disraeli formally and officially as leader of the Opposition, thereby startling the complacency of the Grahams and Gladstones, and paving the way for a reinforcement of his strength by a future coalition with the displaced ministers. In the month of June, when the Tories and the Grahamites combined to attack Lord Palmerston, Lord John Russell reproached Mr. Disraeli for having, although leader of the Opposition, permitted such a subject to be initiated by an independent member, (Mr. Roebuck;) and, on the 9th of July following, Mr. Disraeli received formal investiture in his office, by being called upon to second the address of condolence to the Duchess of Cambridge. Thus we find another session had still further advanced and consolidated the position of Mr. Disraeli; so much so, that it must be matter of wonder to any impartial person, how he could have failed to produce upon the public at large an impression in some degree corresponding to that which he had made within the House of Commons, and in the inner "ring" of the political world. The fact was, that John Bull's ear was still possessed by his daily and weekly deputy-thinkers. The opening of the session of 1851 brought the later tactics of the Opposition Leader to their climax. In the interval since the dissolution, he had addressed some public meetings, and impressed on the agriculturists the broad features of his party policy; he had made them understand, that as they could not ask for a return to " 'protection," they might at least demand such a diminution of their local burthens as would enable them to produce more cheaply. In his speech on the 11th February, re-enforcing his propositions of the last two sessions, he distinctly declared that he had no idea of bringing back protection. He demanded that no gentleman would support him under the idea that his motive was an attempt to bring back protection in disguise. It was nothing of the kind. He reminded the House that he had already declared that "in that Parliament" he would make no attempt to bring back “the abrogated" system of protection. These assurances, together with the doubtful position of the ministry on other grounds, procured for Mr. Disraeli 267 votes against 281. on the Government side; so that ministers were left in a majority of only 14. In 1849, they had defeated their new antagonist by a majority of 140. It was quite obvious that matters could not go on thus. Yet, with an obliquity of purpose which can rarely be imputed to Lord John Russell, the minister declined to admit that he had sustained a legitimate defeat, in a fair contest, upon an intelligible proposition. The sole claim of the Whigs being that they were a Freetrade ministry, to have admitted that they were defeated by the party to whose blind hatred to Sir Robert Peel they had been indebted for office, would have been very seriously to complicate public affairs; more especially at a time when the Great Exhibition demanded as much tranquillity as possible. Ministers had a majority of 14 against "justice to agriculture," but the insignificant fact made no impression on their minds; they had a majority of near 400 on the Ecclesiastical Titles Bill, but found it so inadequate, that they resigned. Even John Bull, although carefully plied with fictions and fallacies by his deputy-thinkers, could not help seeing "which way the cat jumped." He perceived that the Whig minsitry had been ignominiously defeated by the Tory champion; and the "great fact" thenceforth settled in his mind. Emboldened by these events, Mr. Disraeli, in the earlier portion of the late recess, pushed his outposts a little further. He felt that he could now appeal with more confidence | to the agriculturists than when he was only sketching a policy, or "letting down" a party. He seemed to know that the duty of an Opposition Leader is to pull down, but only that he may hereafter build up; that party tactics may do very well for the assault, bet that there must always be a positive policy in reserve. With the merits or demerits of a this policy we have nothing to do, but much with its coherency and with its relation to is antecedents. Mr. Disraeli had formerly ab jured "protection" as usually understood; but he had a sort of "little go" of his own, calculated to re-assure the agricultural mind. The vote of the House of Commons, in the course of the past session, limiting the dura- | the proofs of his position are to be found in tion of the Income-tax to one year, furnished its official recognition by Lord John Russell, him with the ground work of his scheme. He and in the acquiescence of the whole Tory told the farmers that the question was not party, officers and rank and file, who followed one of "protection," but of revenue, that the Mr. Disraeli into the lobby, to the number country would not go on paying Income-tax, of 267, in February, 1851. That among a unless it felt sure that the indirect taxation portion of the party there exists a jealousyof the country would help to pay the nation-taking the form of a supercilious patronage al expenses, that all they had to do was to of a man who can be stigmatized by poclaim such a reduction of burthens on land litical enemies as an adventurer or a parvenu, as would affect the revenue, and then the is beyond a doubt; but such feelings are country would be compelled to assent to a often found in the breasts of those who, low fixed duty on imports, in order to make being incapable and incompetent themselves, up the deficiency. This, he told his audi- are forced to call to their aid men of intelences, would be a natural and legitimate lect and ability. Such jealousy is the less "protection" to agriculture, without the odium noxious, because a natural instinct teaches attending a demand for dear bread. The its concealment, lest it be laid to the account most significant fact in connection with this of a base ingratitude. Upon the whole, we new scheme was, that several of the most may regard the position of Mr. Disraeli as respectable of the Tory county members assured to him, by a right not often wielded voluntarily offered their adhesion to the new in these days of nepotism and family compolicy, in speeches addressed to their consti- pact-the right of conquest. For if ever tuents. With this we close our slight his- there was a man who fought his way to the torical retrospect of the later doings of Mr. chief command in desperation, every inch of Disraeli. Now a few words on the questions the ground he had to occupy disputed, that asked in our opening sentences. man is Mr. Disraeli. In 1837, hooted down as a bombastic enthusiast, nay, as almost a madman!-in 1851, elevated by his own perseverance and parliamentary ability, to the chieftainship of the most wealthy, powerful, and compact section of the aristocracy, and forcing the ministry of the day to resign!-to resign, after having been beaten in fair warfare on the intelligible proposition, that great injury having been inflicted on a class for the general good, the claims of that class to compensation and consideration should be entertained; the means of reparation to be supplied by a fair and full application of the same principles which had brought about the original deprivation. Putting party feeling on one side, and looking as impartial Englishmen on these facts, it seems impossible not to perceive that some systematic injustice has been done to Mr. Disraeli, if men who have done little or nothing are steadily exalted in the public estimation, while a man who has achieved so much has his pretensions pertinaciously ridiculed or gravely denied. In an ordinary case, those questions would admit of an easy and immediate answer. It would be said, that on the death of Lord George Bentinck, the leadership of the then disjointed, dispirited, and despised "country party" devolved naturally on Mr. Disraeli, as the chief adviser, coadjutor, and agent of that noble Lord in his arduous task. It will be remembered that Mr. Disraeli outlived, not merely the legitimate opposition of antagonists, but the more dangerous rivalry of friends. He long struggled against the damaging pretensions of enemies in his own camp, till, at one time, it was supposed that the Tory party was to present the absurd spectacle of a body with three heads,-that, for the purpose of better attaining confusion and disunion, there were to be three leaders, with scarcely concealed differences of principles and tactics. At length, his admitted parliamentary talents, and the good sense of the mass of his followers, enabled him to overcome these domestic difficulties. After a long period of doubtful ascendency, during which he was the butt of all the spare ridicule of the free-trade journalists, his leadership was admitted even by the malcontents, and from that time forth, the fortunes of his party began steadily to prosper. The question of how Mr. Disraeli came to be the chief of his party in the Lower House may safely be left to be decided between him and them: as far as the public is concerned, Then comes the question, by what right, beyond de facto possession, does Mr. Disraeli hold the position he has attained? A retrospect of the facts in the foregoing pages would seem to indicate that his claims are not inferior to those of most of his predecessors. He found his party staggering under the weight of popular odium, as the selfish claimants of special class privileges to the detriment of the general interests. Fanatical rivals fostered deep-rooted prejudices and strengthened fixed ideas among the agriculturists, so that to all his protestations of more enlightened views, was opposed the fact that his party professed the old creed. If we look back to the history of the Tory Opposition, from 1832 to 1834, and again from 1835 to 1841, we shall see that Sir Robert Peel had the same main difficulty to contend against a blind instinct of reaction; that he conquered it, as far as the question of Reform was concerned, but was compelled to yield obedience to its moving spirit in all that related to the commercial policy of the country. The chief merit of Mr. Disraeli's tactics would seem to be, that he has softened the obstinacy of these fixed ideas in the agricultural mind, by pointing out other channels than a return to "protection" for the sense of suffering which, rightly or wrongly, exists there. The most determined supporters of the existing system admit the seeming fairness of a proposition based upon an obvious principle of justice; whether the grievances on which it rests are real or imaginary, whether "justice to agriculture" is a mere party rallying-ery, or a great obligation which will some day have to be discharged, are questions into which we do not enter, our sole object being to determine whether, in adopting that general principle, Mr. Disraeli has or has not taken a ground on which he must have many supporters, and on which opponents will fight at a disadvantage; and therefore whether his tactics entitle him to praise as a Party Leader. Of this, the reader will have been able to judge. Now, as to the "positive policy in reserve." We do not pretend to be in the secrets of the party, and therefore we do not know what are to be the hustings' cries. One point, however, is quite clear, that as far as the House of Commons is concerned, Mr. Disraeli stands pledged to try the great question mooted by his party, in the financial, rather than the political arena. Disclaiming all desire for protection, he demands that when the great question of taxation comes to be decided, the claims of the land to a release from undue burthens shall be considered. This, and the possible modification of the Income-tax, he contends, will reduce the revenue of the country to its normal condition, when, in place of a surplus, there will appear a deficiency. To meet that deficiency, low fixed duties must be imposed on articles coming from countries that have not met our magnanimous policy of 1846 in a spirit of reciprocity more or less complete. Here is a distinct and specific proposition: we do not know that we are entitled to demand from a Party Leader an enunciation of views and principles on questions not yet mooted before the public. As a parliamentary man, Mr. Disraeli has much advanced. To improve upon the sarcastic power with which he assailed Sir Robert Peel would have been impossible, but to have abstained in a great measure from the use of that disagreeable weapon is itself a sign of improvement. The responsibilities of his position have solidified the character of this once nebulous and comet-like crusader against the real, the prosaic, and the practical. Without knowing the fact, we should infer that Mr. Disraeli must have studied hard in branches of political knowledge the least inviting to a man of his soaring and imaginative spirit. At all events, he carries more ballast than heretofore, and the most accomplished of debaters, the most trained of statists and publicists, find him a doughty antagonist, even on their own chosen ground. It is astonishing with what aptitude the Vivian Grey of 1828 has developed into the sedate and somewhat formal statesman of 1852. At first, with the memory of his earlier, even of recent, follies still active, the notion of the author of Alroy and the Revolutionary Epic being the Leader of the Opposition in the House of Commons, and exercising a direct control over debates and the fate of parties, seemed absurd enough. But so did the ascendency of other men of the day at their outset, though now it be acquiesced in with a religious respect. Mr. Disraeli has shown himself a tactician in more senses than one. His personal demeanor has been as well calculated as his political manoeuvring; so much so, that it is not within the walls of the House of Commons that any doubt is entertained of his ability— ay, or even of his soundness. One only doubts whether the advance he has made has not been too rapid to be real; whether to a fortunate concurrence of accidents must not be attributed his parliamentary successes. That is a question into which we do not desire to enter; but, in justice to this very remarkable man, we feel bound to declare that his mental and moral development has kept pace with his political advancement; that he has matured the crudities and thrown off the vicious excrescences which formerly weakened and defaced his character; that his speeches are skilful amalgamations of the useful practical matter needed in parliamen All tary debates, with the ornamental and grace- | quence, although undoubtedly finer than ful adjuncts which relieve discussion from those of any contemporary in the House, dullness and dreariness; that personal display have in them something of the untrue. is subordinated to political duty; that pomp- that used to be bombast is so completely ous extravagances of imagery have vanished surrendered to the practical, that passages, from his diction, and impossible party com- instinct with a lofty spirit of truth, almost binations from his political theories; that he seem bombastic. In this way he makes inno longer comes down on his contemporaries voluntary atonement for the literary and in the panoply of the middle ages with lance political sins of his earlier career. If in this in rest, and some forgotten ensign for his brief retrospect we have suggested considwar-cry, but is in the Commons and of the erations tending to throw the light of truth Commons, a steady-going, arithmetical, prac- on Mr. Disraeli's real character and career, tical middle-aged gentleman of the nineteenth we shall not only have done an act of justice century, a working statesman, and, with all to an individual, but also have conferred a his brilliancy, at times a little prosaic. In benefit on the public, by leading them to fact, he is so thoroughly changed in these form a more correct judgment than that respects, that the old familiar style seems to suggested by sneering and jealous rivals, of have become utterly strange to him. He a man whose antecedents and present posihas paid such devotions at the altar of the tion point him out as likely hereafter to take practical, that his flights of rhetorical elo- a prominent part in public affairs. which From Fraser's Magazine. THE LATE JOSEPH MALLORD WILLIAM TURNER. TURNER will not be duly estimated nor take the rank he merits under the present generation. He was too original, and ventured to think and act too independently for the middle level in art. To live in a mode foreign to the conventional ideas of the mass in any profession is heterodoxy to its brotherhood. His reserve, retiring habits, plain person, and absorption in the great pursuit of his life, made him the theme of many an ungenerous remark, and frequently subjected him to a sneer for closeness in money matters, with envy was not always unmingled. While his eminence was partially admitted, his later attempts in art, far from being placed to the account of a great genius nobly endeavoring, became the burthen of attacks from raw newspaper critics and the petty fry Most of these gentry had been born since Turner executed his finest works, and had probably never beheld one of them. In proportion as this great artist trod in the footsteps of those who, above their contemporaries, built up a name for posterity and were less understood of affected connoisseurs. by the multitude that surrounded them, was he less comprehended by every-day people and mediocre art-tasters. But my present purpose is merely to commit to paper a few faint recollections of one whose works will do more to extend the fame of English art than those of any other artist have yet done. I became acquainted with Turner in 1812. In the following year he made a tour into Devonshire, where I happened to be. He was received with great attention by several discriminating friends of the fine arts. He wished to explore the scenery of the southwest of the county, and everything in the way of accommodation was afforded him. He was accompanied in his excursions by one or more friends at whose houses he had been hospitably received. Boats and conveyances were placed at his disposal. Many years afterwards he spoke to me in London of the reception he met with on this tour, in a strain that exhibited his possession of a mind not unsusceptible or forgetful of kindnesses. Among his entertainers some preceded him to the narrow house, and foremost among them the late John Collier, then resident at Mount Tamar, and subsequently member of Parliament for Plymouth. As the birthplace of Turner has recently appeared to some persons a matter of doubt, I may here observe that he was born at Barnstaple, and neither in Maiden-lane nor at South Molton, if his own words go for anything. The latter place, it is true, is but twelve miles from Barnstaple. We were sailing together in a boat on the St. Germains river, near Ince Castle. I recollect it as well as if it occurred yesterday. Turner, Collier, and myself were the only persons present except the boatmen. I was remarking what a number of artists the west of England had produced, particularly Devon and Cornwall. I enumerated all I could remember, from Reynolds to Prout. When I had done, Turner said, "You may add me to the list; I am a Devonshire man." I demanded from what part of the county, and he replied, Barnstaple." I have many times since repeated the incident to others who would insist that the artist was a Londoner. His father was of the same trade as the parent of the distinguished equity lawyer, Sugden, and came to London when Turner was young. I remember the little, plain, but not ill-made old man letting me into Turner's house, or rather gallery, in Queen Anne street more than once. He was not as stout nor as blufflooking as his son, allowing for the difference in years. The son was rough, reserved, and austere in manner at the time to which I allude. In personal appearance he somewhat resembled the master of a merchant man. But the gold lay beneath the rough soil. The unprepossessing exterior, the natural reserve, the paucity of language, existed in combination with a powerful intellect, a reflective mind that lived within itself, and a faculty of vision that penetrated to the sources of nature's ever-varying aspects, and stored them in memory to a most extraordinary degree. His glance seemed to command in a moment all that was novel in scenery, however extensive, which he had never before encountered. He would only make a few outlines upon paper, scarcely intelligible to others. The next day or days after he would have the sketch filled up in oil upon millboard, not much larger than a sheet of letterpaper, still confused to the unpractised eye. Yet in his finished pictures the details were given in a manner truly wonderful, so that it might be imagined he must have made other sketches, which was not the case, or else that he executed them by some magical process. His views about Plymouth, seen in the engravings from his pictures, with the minutia of which I am well acquainted, perfectly astounded me from their fidelity of detail, to say nothing of their wonderful effect; yet his sketches showed but little of the work. His observation of nature was so accurate, and he was so capable of reading its details and bearing them in memory, that it seemed a mental gift belonging to himself alone. One day, an invitation was given me by two friends to run along the coast to Borough or Bur Island, in the corner of Bigbury Bay, within the Bolt-head. There was to be a winding up, for the season, of a fishing account. The invitation was to a regale of hot lobsters; the fish, just taken from the sea, were plunged into boiling water, and thus dressed served up. Turner was invited to be of the party. The coast scenery was just to his taste; he was an excellent sailor. Captain Nicols, a fine old weather-beaten tar-long gone to his account-owned a Dutch boat, a famous sea-going craft, with the usual outriggers. Turner, and an artist, named Demaria, Captain Nicols and a military officer in a new suit of scarlet, made four of the party, which numbered six in all. There was also a stout sailor boy to assist in managing the boat. The morning did not look very propitious; there was a heavy swell rolling into the sound, and the wind rising. The sea had that dirty, perturbed appearance which is sometimes the forerunner as well as the follower of a gale. We worked out into the sound, where the breakwater had been just commenced, keeping towards Penlee and Rame-head, to obtain an offing. As soon as we saw we were clear of the nearer headlands on the east, we got well off the land, and while still running to the eastward, the sea rose higher. Off Stoke's point it became very boisterous; but our boat mounted the ridges bravely. The seas in that part of the Channel, not broken so much as farther up, are generally a succession of regular furrows from the Atlantic. We had to run about fifteen miles. Turner looked on with most artistic watchfulness. When we were on the crest of a wave, he now and then articulated to myself-for we were sitting side by side-"That's fine!-fine!" Demaria was very ill, and art driven out of his head; the soldier was groaning and spoiling his scarlet coat, extended upon the rusty ballast in the bottom of the boat. Indeed he wanted to fling himself overboard, and would have done so, had he not been with |
