tion." The answer was what in spite of all his gifts," Mr we should expect cold and conclusive. "I trust, "replied Peel, "that, when candidates for Parliamentary office calmly reflect on my position and the appointments I have made, they will understand how perfeotly insufficient are the means at my disposal to meet the wishes that are conveyed to me by men whose co-operation I should be proud to have, and whose qualifications and pretensions for office I do not contest." Both wrote the letters that we should expect of them. The worst of it was that each was incapable of understanding the other. Peel, never a keen judge of men, put too low a value upon Disraeli's eminent ability. Disraeli, conscious of his power, was impatient at delay. In Peel's favour it may be said that Disraeli had been less than four years in Parliament, and that though he had proved himself a clear and courageous speaker, though he was already a master of political history and political tactics, he had not yet won the universal ear of the House. Applauded vigorously by a clique, he was looked upon askance by many on either side. Even three years later, as Mr Monypenny says, he not generally accepted. He was still paying dearly for the means by which he had advanced. By a stroke of ill-luck, he seemed always an easy mark for slander. Many a foolish libel, now disproved and still believed, was oirculated to his discredit. "Nor, Monypenny tells, "had he yet acquired the authentic House of Commons manner. He had courage and originality, unbounded cleverness, and that most effective weapon-the power of sarcasm. But all these are gifts which require supreme tact for their judicious display in Parliament, and in Parliamentary tact he was at first a little wanting. . . . There was an element of pretentiousness and presumption in his speeches which the House of Commons resented. The oracular manner, which became a positive asset when he reached a high position, tended to delay his ascent. He was too didactic in tone, and his cleverness, though great, was too ostentatious." That is true enough, and had he been given office, the responsibility would doubtless have sobered his manner. He did not get office, and though it is not for us to regret an exclusion which gave us Coningsby' and 'Sybil,' it was clear that for him the political battle was to fight again. Though Disraeli was disappointed of office, it is clear that his divergence from the Government was in no way inspired by injured vanity. It was Peel who changed throughout, not he. He was elected by his constituents to protect the landed interest, and faithfully he performed his trust. As early as 1843 he suspected any motion which meant "that they should fight against hostile tariffs with free imports," -a policy bound to end in disaster. Valiantly did he come to the rescue of Mr Gladstone, "my right hon. friend, the Vice-President of the Board of Trade," by pleading for the happy medium, followed by practical men, the principle of reciprocity. Before his con stituents he used the same language as he used in the House. "Shall I tell you," said he at Shrewsbury, speaking of the great Rebellion, "how it was that the nation returned to itself, and Old England after the deluge was seen rising above the waters? This was the reason-because during all that fearful revolution you never changed the tenure of your landed property. That, I think, gentlemen, proves my case; and if we have baffled a wit like Oliver Cromwell, let us not be staggered even before Mr Cobden." In the event, an alliance between Peel and Cobden proved too strong for the landed interest, but they who would suggest a malice in Disraeli's conflict with Peel overlook the plain facts of the case. A member of Parliament is not bound to change with his leaders, even though office be refused him. Then followed the interval of Young England, and clearly Peel and his friends were stung to fury. Graham wished to drive Disraeli into open hostility-a hostility which, when it came, they endured with an ill grace. A letter of Peel's obviously exhibits the politician's point of view. "I am very glad," wrote Peel in December 1843, "that Mr Disraeli has asked for an office for his brother. It is a good thing when such a man puts his shabbiness on record. He asked me for office for himself, and I was not surprised that being refused he became independent and a patriot. But to ask favours after his conduct of last session is too bad. However, it is a bridle in his mouth." Alas, for Peel's peace of mind! It was not a bridle. It could not be a bridle, because Disraeli was resolved to put his principles into practice. The support of Young England, the writing of 'Sybil' and 'Coningsby,' had helped him to evolve the Tory Idea. Of this Idea henceforth he was the constant champion. He hoped, as we have said, to see England once more possess a free Monarchy and a privileged and prosperous People. He would have nothing to do with ArchMediocrities and Venetian Doges. He asked for faith in a political doctrine, and he heard on all sides nothing but the Opportunism Peel. "The Tamworth Manifesto of 1835," he wrote, was an attempt to construct a party without principles; its basis, therefore, was necessarily Latitudinarianism, and its inevitable consequence has been Political Infidelity." He fought the battle of the People and the landed gentry against the greedy encroachment of the Middle Class. He defeated Peel, and fell himself against the forces combined against him. He fell only for 8 moment, and at least a spark of his imaginative faith still of shines in the dusty air of politics. of Commons into disrepute. In 1845 independence was not yet an extinct virtue, and Disraeli opposed to Peel all the qualities which that Minister lacked. In the first place, he came forward as the champion of a principle. He had mastered the gospel which he meant to preach, and he wasted no words in vague exposition. the House of exposition. He was as high in courage as he was firm in resolution. He was, moreover, an oratorical light - horseman whom few could resist. understood perfectly the conduct of those dangerous weapons-irony and sarcasm. As a master of phrases which cut and slashed and left an unforgetable wound, he had no rival in his own day-he has had since. And when he faced Peel in single combat, there could hardly have been any doubt as to the issue. The battle between Disraeli and Peel, which began in 1845, is unique in our annals. At first sight it seemed as though the combatants were illmatched. Disraeli had never held office. The prestige of an ancient and successful Minister clung about Peel. He played upon the House of Commous "as upon an old fiddle." If he could not rise to the highest flights of oratory, he was a perfect master of the clear statement. In brief, "what he really was," as Disraeli said, "and what posterity will acknowledge him to have been, is the greatest Member of Parliament that ever lived." His worst failing, and it was bad indeed, was an impulsive variability. He "had a peculiarity," wrote his adversary, "which is perhaps natural with men of very great talents who have not the creative faculty: he had a dangerous sympathy with the creations of others." And having suddenly accepted the opinion or the plan of another, he attempted to force it forth with upon all his supporters. Not to change at the same instant at which he changed, was in his eyes the blackest treachery. The example of Peel has been generally followed since his time. When Mr Gladstone's thumb pricked for the cause of Home Rule, every Radical thumb in Great Britain was expected to prick. And the witless docility of Members of Parliament is today fast bringing the House He In the first encounter Peel made a slip, for which he paid dearly. He was indiscreet enough in making a retort upon Disraeli to quote some lines by Canning, of whom his treatment was still remembered in the House. Disraeli was not one to lose his chance. "The right hon. gentleman," he said, "may be sure that such a quotation from such an authority will always tell. Some lines, for example, upon friendship, written by Mr Canning, and quoted by the right hon. gentleman! The theme, the poet, the speaker— what a felicitous combination!" The effect of this speech of Disraeli's was immediate. His First Philippic, as Mr Monypenny calls it, gave him a far higher position in the House than any to which he had attained. "It would have made you cry with delight," wrote George Smythe to Mrs Disraeli, "to have heard the thunders of of cheering." It seemed as though the battle was already won. Disraeli was pitiless and exultant. Night after night he assailed his foe with hard logic and brilliant satire. If only Peel had hit back, the contest would seem yet more splendid than it does. On the one hand, Disraeli gave no quarter; on the other, Peel hardly dared to resist. Mr Gladstone declared fifty years afterwards that Peel tried to answer only once, and then "failed utterly." That the victory was well deserved there can be no doubt. In dialectic, as in oratory, Disraeli proved himself easily Peel's superior. There is nothing that so easily loses its savour as Parliamentary speeches. Made for the moment, they rarely outlive the moment for which they are made. Nobody will ever again read a single speech of Peel's or Gladstone's. Disraeli's Philippics are as fresh as on the day of their delivery. They have taken their place, with certain orations by Demosthenes and Cicero, among the masterpieces of invective. So familiar are they to the most of us, that as we read them we seem to be turning over the pages of a book of elegant extracts. They contain phrases which are a permanent enrichment of our speech, which have passed into the heritage of our blood and state. "The right hon. gentleman caught the Whigs bathing and walked away with their clothes. He has left them in the full enjoyment of their liberal position, and he is himself a strict conservative of their garments." That gem sparkled in the first of the attacking speeches, and its radiance is still undimmed. The truth is that Disraeli was what is very rare among politicians, a man of letters. Born in a library, he had studied Voltaire while yet a boy, and though he had not the industry always to chasten his unwritten prose, a sense of literature did not desert him even on the hustings. In the speeches which he delivered against Peel, you cannot but be amazed at the conciseness of his phrase and the justice of his imagery. These are not the qualities, maybe, which ensured the instant triumph of his speeches. They are the qualities which have endowed those speeches with a lasting life and interest. Meanwhile Peel was approaching nearer and nearer to that policy of Free Trade which his Cabinet was pledged to oppose, and Disraeli's invective never lacked an opportunity. "I remember the right hon. gentleman making his protection speeches," said Disraeli in a famous attack. "They were the best speeches I ever heard. It was a great thing to hear the right hon. gentleman say: 'I would rather be the leader of the gentlemen of England than possess the confidence of Sovereigns.' That was a grand thing. We don't hear much of the gentlemen of England' now." And so he came to the peroration, which still seems to echo in our ears: "For myself, I care not what may be the result. Dissolve, if you please, the Parliament you have betrayed, and appeal to the people, who, I believe, mistrust you. For me there remains this at least the opportunity of expressing thus publicly my belief that a Conservative Government is an organised hypocrisy." Nor are we likely to forget the expression of his contempt for the Minister whofounds great measures upon small precedents: "He always traced the steam-engine back to the tea-kettle." And then his description of the Parliamentary Middleman, is it not superb?" It is well known what a middleman is: he is a man who bamboozles one party and plunders the other, till, having obtained a position to which he is not entitled, he cries out, 'Let us have no party questions, but fixity of tenure.' When in 1845 Peel resigned, only to receive again the poisoned chalice, which Lord John Russell handed back to him, Disraeli had a still better ground for his attack, and found in Lord George Bentinck the staunchest of allies. Nothing but political trickery, the desire of hanging on to office at all hazards, could justify the step which Peel now took. Even he must have found it hard to convince himself that the failure of the potato crop in Ireland was a fair reason for throwing open the ports of England to foreign corn three years hence. It was Cobden whom Peel had caught bathing this time, and whose clothes ke had stolen. Disraeli rose with the occasion, and the best of all his speeches were made in the fight of 1845-6. He poured the wealth of his scorn and ridicule upon "the political pedlars that bought their party in the cheapest market and sold us in the dearest." He avowed himself no enemy of Free Trade, but he explained again and again the futility of attempting to fight hostile tariffs with Free Imports. And then there was the magnificent passage about Popkins's plan. "And is England to be governed," he asked, "and is England to be convulsed by Popkins's plan? Will he go to the country with it? Will he go with it to that ancient and famous England that was once governed by statesmen-by Burleighs and by Walsinghams; by Bolingbrokes and by Walpoles; by a Chatham and a Canning,―will he go to it with this fantastic scheming of some presumptuous pedant?" Seldom has the artifice of contrast been more happily employed, and it is not strange that the sally was received with "peals of laughter from all parts of the House." Nor can we pass over in silence the incident which, more than any other in his career, throws a shadow upon the character of Disraeli, Peel, stung beyond endurance, made the one effective reply of |