years, clustered like flies round the baskets of certain vendors of sugary delicacies that rested on the Long Walk wall. The pallid countenance, the lacklustre eye, the hoarse voice clogged with accumulated phlegm, indicated too surely the unclaimable and hopeless votary of lollypop-the opium-eater of schoolboys.

The frequent use of the words "fellow," "row," and the like, and the classical imprecation "by Jove!" scattered freely though the conversation of the students, has a vulgar and tantalizing air, and would greatly perplex any foreigner who might attempt a translation of the work. But the vulgarity of these phrases is not chargeable upon Mr. D'Israeli, but upon that careless and defective system of education which has prevailed in all our principal schools for the last fifty years. "By Jove !" is regarded by our youth, for the most part, as rather an elegant and clever affectation.

The picture of Manchester is vivid and powerful. What art was to the ancient world, says the author, science is to the modern. Manchester, rightly understood, is as great a human exploit as Athens. Coningsby explores its wonders with a sense of unspeakable awe.

He entered chambers vaster than are told of in Arabian fable, and peopled with habitants more wondrous than Afrite or Peri. For there he beheld in long continued ranks, those mysterious forms full of existence without life, that perform with facility, and in an instant, what man can fulfil only with difficulty and in days. A machine is a slave that neither brings nor bears degradation: it is a being endowed with the greatest degree of energy, and acting under the greatest degree of excitement, yet free, at the same time, from all passion and emotion. It is, therefore, not only a slave, but a supernatural slave. And why should one say that the machine does not live? It breathes, for its breath forms the atmosphere of some towns. It moves with more regularity than man. And has it not a voice? Does not the spindle sing like a merry girl at her work, and the steam-engine roar in jolly chorus like a strong artizan handling his lusty tools, and gaining a fair day's wages for a fair day's work?

Nor should the weaving-room be forgotten, where a thousand or fifteen hundred girls may be observed working like Penelope in the day-time; some pretty, some pert, some graceful and jocund, some absorbed in their occupation; a little serious some, few sad. And the cotton you have observed in its rude state, that you may have seen the silent spinner change into thread, and the bustling weaver convert into cloth, you may now watch as in a moment it is tinted with beautiful colours, or printed with fanciful patterns. And yet the mystery of mysteries is to view machines making machines; a spectacle that fills the mind with curious, and even awful, speculation.

We constantly fall in with capital criticisms upon national character. Here is a passage upon the jealousy which besets us at every turn, and for which the best prescription is-travel.

How very seldom do you encounter in the world a man of great abilities, acquirements, experience, who will unmask his mind, unbutton his brains, and pour forth in careless and picturesque phrase, all the results of his studies and observation; his knowledge of men, books, and nature. On the contrary, if a man has by any chance what he conceives an original idea, he hoards it as if it were old gold; and rather avoids the subject with which he is most conversant, from fear that you may appropriate his best thoughts. One of the principal causes of our renowned dullness in conversation is our extreme intellectual jealousy. It must be admitted that in this respect authors, but especially poets, bear the palm. They never think they are sufficiently appre ciated, and live in tremor lest a brother should distinguish himself. Artists have the repute of being nearly as bad and as for a small rising politician, a clever speech by a supposed rival, or suspected candidate for office, destroys his appetite and disturbs his slumbers.

One of the chief delights and benefits of travel is, that one is perpetually meeting men of great abilities, of original mind, and rare acquirements, who will converse without reserve. In these discourses, the intellect makes daring leaps and marvellous advances. The tone that colours our after life is often caught in these chance colloquies, and the bent given that shapes a career.

In every thing that touches upon the poetry, strength, capacity, ambition of youth, our author displays the serious expression of deep and solemn feeling-and out of this Youth-this season of passionate dreams and energetic resolves-is to rise up the regenerating principles of our whole system; its purity is to redeem, its vigour to restore us. Youth is the age of heroes as well as poets. The greatest captains of ancient and modern times, exclaims Sidonia, conquered Italy at five-and-twenty. Gaston de Foix, Gustavus Adolphus, Maurice of Saxony, Bolingbroke, Pitt, were all great when they were young, or died young in the flower of their greatness. But let us escape from these generalities to the development of the particular opinions of which this book is the exponent on behalf of Young England.

It is stated very clearly (iii., 93-9) that the principles of the Exclusive Constitution having been abandoned by the Acts of 1827-8-32, a party arose who demanded that political liberalism should be carried to its full extent, by getting rid of all the fragments that remained of the old constitution. This is the Destructive Party.

These are opposed by another party who, having given up Exclusion, embrace only as much liberalism as suits the moment, and who, without any embarrassing promulgation of principles, wish to keep things as they find them as long as they can ; but as a party must have a semblance of principles, they take the names of the things they have destroyed-the crown, although it is stripped of its prerogatives-the constitution in church and state, although it is defunct the independence of the upper house, latterly dwindled into a court of review. This is the Conservative Party.

Into these two divisions, it is contended, the nation is divided. Young England repudiates both. Revolution, in any sense, forms no part of the contemplated policy of Young England. Changes are to be approached cautiously, and only with full and universal warning. "True wisdom," says Coningsby, "lies in the policy that would effect its ends by the influence of opinion, and yet by the means of existing forms.” (iii., 103.) The full recognition of the authority of public opinion, the abolition of class legislation, the restoration to the sovereign of the sovereign prerogatives, which, it is alleged, the parliament has gradually usurped (iii., 101), enlarged religious freedom, and a system of legislation adaptive and progressive, appear to be the fundamental principles of the

new sect.

Some of them may require explanation, especially the doctrine of vesting in the sovereign the sole power of government. Coningsby does not consider parliamentary representation necessary to the security of the country. The country goes on when the parliament is not sitting; but it is always represented by the press. Opinion is now supreme, and opinion speaks in print. Parliamentary representation was the device of a rude age the representation of the press is more complete He does not contemplate the abolition of parliament, although he evidently regards it as by no means an impossible contingency, but contends that if we are forced

into revolutions, we ought to consider the idea of "a free monarchy established on fundamental laws, itself the apex of a vast pile of municipal and local government, ruling an educated people, represented by a free and intellectual press." (iii., 103.) This is the monarchy Young England proposes when all incumbrances in the way of class interests and factitious ascendancies shall have been cleared away. Whether it be practicable is not so much the question, as whether we are not now on the direct road that leads to it-although we may never probably reach the end of the journey.

The most ominous suggestive features of this work are indicated by the introduction of Mr. Millbank, a manufacturer, Mr. Eustace Lyle, a Roman Catholic, and Sidonia, the great capitalist, a Jew. Here we have three formerly antagonist elements lying down gently and confidingly with Toryism--at least with that section which has separated itself of late from the old body. By the popular influence given to Mr. Millbank, we see the weight conceded by aristocracy itself to industry and capital. "I defy any peer to crush me" (ii. 41), exclaims Mr. Millbank. The association of Mr. Lyle with the party of Young England, affords a significant hint of its tendency to Puseyism. "Lyle," says Henry Sydney, "is of an old Cavalier family, and will not ally himself with antimonarchists, and democrats, and infidels, and sectarians; at the same time, why should he support a party who pretend to oppose these, but who never lose an opportunity of insulting his religion, and would deprive him, if possible, of the advantages of the very institutions which his family assisted in establishing?" (i. 292.) The argument is cogent and irresistible, and has a heart and brain in it full of promise.

The emancipation of the Jews may be gathered as another object, no less desired by Young England. The grounds on which these various extensions of public rights proceed, may be assumed to be no less those of abstract justice than the wise policy of strengthening public opinion and public confidence. Sidonia states the case of the Jews with an eloquence worthy of the loftiness of the theme. The passage is so grand that we must make room for a part of it.

"I contend that if you permit men to accumulate property, and they use that permission to a great extent, power is inseparable from that property, and it is in the last degree impolitic to make it the interest of any powerful class to oppose the institutions under which they live. The Jews, for example, independent of the capital qualities for citizenship which they possess in their industry, temperance, and energy and vivacity of mind, are a race essentially monarchical, deeply religious, and, shrinking themselves from converts as from a calamity, are ever anxious to see the religious systems of the countries in which they live, flourish; yet since your society has become agitated in England, and powerful combinations menace your institutions, you find the once loyal Hebrew invariably arrayed in the same ranks as the leveller and the latitudinarian, and prepared to support the policy which may even endanger his life and property, rather than tamely continue under a system which seeks to degrade him. The Tories lose an important election at a critical moment; 'tis the Jews come forward to vote against them. The church is alarmed at the scheme of a latitudinarian university, and learns with relief, that funds are not forthcoming for its establishment; a Jew immediately advances and endows it. Yet the Jews are essentially Tories. Toryism is, indeed, but copied from the mighty prototype which has fashioned Europe. And every generation they must become more powerful and more dangerous to the society which is hostile to them.

And then he runs on with kindling ardour to show that the race cannot be destroyed-a simple law of nature, which has baffled Egyptian and Assyrian kings, Roman emperors, and Christian inquisitors. The mixed persecuting races disappear-the poor persecuted race survives. At this moment, he continues, in spite of centuries, of tens of centuries of degradation, the Jewish mind-the living Hebrew intellect-exercises a vast influence over the affairs of Europe. The list of Jews wielding authority and influence is astounding. The Russian diplomacy in Western Europe is carried on by Jews-the professorial chairs of Germany almost monopolized by Jews-the Russian minister of finance, the son of a Lithuanian Jew-the minister of Spain, a Jew of Arragon-Soult, the son of a French Jew-the Prussian minister, a Prussian Jew; and then there are all the musicians, Rossini, Meyerbeer, Mendlesohn-Pasta, Grisi! The case of the Jews was certainly never put in so captivating a shape before. The roll of Hebrew celebrities, past and present, is magnificent; and the only difficulty we have about the matter is that it includes some famous persons whose descent through "this dark blood" was never before suspected. In music the Hebrews are distinguished in every country in Europe, if not always as composers certainly in the executive department. Moscheles, Braham, and twenty others of equal reputation, might be added to Sidonia's catalogue. But music will not effect an entrance into the legislative chamber. The Orpheus who, in the present complexion of things, should attempt so perilous an experiment would be much more likely to attract the notice of the sergeant-at-arms than the eye of the speaker.

Young England's project, however, for the emancipation of the Jews does not contemplate, openly at least, an assault of this kind upon the constitution of Parliament. It is not stated by what process the Jews are to be admitted to a full participation in all political and social rights, but we infer that it is to be accomplished, together with a variety of other changes, by the abolition of parliament itself. We regret, for two reasons, this mode of placing so grave a question-first, because we think the time is very distant when the people of England shall be induced to part with the representative principle; and second, because we should rather see this question of emancipation argued upon its own intrinsic and independent merits, and carried ultimately by their force alone, than thus deferred to a remote and exceedingly doubtful contingency, when it is not to be carried by any effort of justice, or even magnanimity, but to pass into use simply because there will be nothing to oppose its progress. There must be differences of opinion about the politics of this work; and it is well there should, if there be any practical virtue in the ancient saying, that the waters are kept pure by agitation. But there can be no differences of opinion about its literary merits. It is, in our estimation, the greatest work Mr. D'Israeli has produced; comprehending a wider expanse of subjects than any of his former publications; of greater weight in its manner of treating the multifarious topics it embraces; and wholly free from that peculiar pageantry of style which, in his earlier productions, offended the judgment of his critics. The theories of Young England may never be accomplished; but this book, in which they are for the first time expounded, will be read with interest and curiosity when they shall have faded into a tradition.

THE EMPEROR NICHOLAS, HIS NOBLES, SERFS, AND

SERVANTS.

(Concluded.)

[We esteem ourselves fortunate in having had the opportunity of extracting these curious papers from a manuscript entitled "Revelations of Russia," by a late Resident, the publication of which may shortly be expected, and which will throw much new light on the present actual state of Russia and the Russian people.-EDITOR.]

THE Emperor Napoleon, if diffuse and wordy in his written style, has at least left to posterity some of those pithy sayings, into which a whole volume of ideas is condensed-a whole picture crowded. "Grattez le Russe," he said, "et vous trouverez le Tartare;" "Scratch, and the Tartar will peep through the Russian." We have seen in our last chapter somewhat of the truth of this epigram. He calls the Emperor Alexander a Greek of the lower empire; and he further says, "Woe unto Europe, if ever a tsar should arise who wears a beard!" After one has closely examined the men and things within the Russian empire, one is struck with the profound appreciation of character, and the portentous import, contained in these picture-sentences, which one had ranked at first amongst sayings more terse than true.

These words of warning to Europe, "whenever a tsar shall wear a beard," strike us in all their force, when we turn from the contemplation of the great body of the Muscovite people, the private serfs, the crown serfs, and the freedmen-the true bearded, caftaned, superstitious Russians of the days of Ivan the Terrible-all comprised in the general name of moujik. There are, at a rough statement, upwards of twenty millions of private serfs, and nearly the same number belonging to the imperial domain; and they are already so blindly obedient to the tsar, so blindly confident of his power, that it is no exaggeration to say that many believe he can stay the pestilence or the tempest, or allay the drought, at his pleasure. This is the case with a sovereign who runs counter to their dearest prejudice, who shaves their cherished beards, who sends them chained together to his armies, and whose garb and habits are those of the stranger. What would it be with a tsar who seemed a thorough Muscovite like themselves, in his dress, his habits, and feelings? Why he might use their fanaticism as a mighty lever to uproot the very nation, and cast it in any direction around him, like a tremendous human avalanche.

The reader may perhaps remember, in antithesis to this hint given to the tsars to wear a beard, by the great conqueror, the advice which a genius, no less remarkable in the world of letters, gives to the Emperor Alexander :

Teach him to wash and shave his Baskir hordes,
And into ploughshares turn their barren swords.

Perhaps in these contradictory counsels are comprised the only courses