Are we never to see its continuation? The book is so interesting, and the last volume, with its gorgeous and solemn pictures of the Holy Land, takes so complete a hold on the imagination, that we cannot conceive anyone laying down the work without asking, as we do now—" Will not the author finish it?" "Coningsby" may be the most brilliant, "Sybil" the most earnest of our author's productions, but "Tancred" is the most poetical and the most beautiful.

The only book published by Mr. Disraeli since 1847 is his "Life of Lord George Bentinck." The number of editions through which this book has passed, the praises that have been lavished on it, by critics of all parties, sufficiently attest its merits. And the mention of it recalls us to Disraeli's political life, to which we must here again briefly allude.

When Sir Robert Peel deserted, or betrayed (we use the words of his opponents), the great country party, by carrying the very measures which he had formerly opposed and against which he was considered to be pledged, Disraeli and many others seceded from his ranks. From that time the most bitter political hostility prevailed between him and his former leader, and Disraeli uttered in the House of Commons some of the most wonderful invectives ever heard within its walls. Such powers of sarcasm, such readiness of illustration, such fertility of resources, astounded the ex-chief of the " Conservatives," who night after night saw himself humiliated and overwhelmed by an eloquence against which his own powers of oratory were ineffective. Disraeli has been attacked unceasingly for this course: but was he wrong? It was not he who had betrayed a party or deserted a principle; and if he, and others, were indignant with the man who had done both, surely he was justified in using all his efforts to crush that man's political influence. He did so most effectually; and this praise must at least be accorded to him—that from a scattered, divided, and deserted set of men, he it was who mainly constructed anew the most powerful political party of this day (unaided by coalitions with others), on a firmer basis than it had stood on since the days of The Reform Bill, and guided and influenced at last by certain recognised principles. This must be admitted by all candid men, whether supporters or opponents.

This year has appeared a work professing to be a "Literary and Political Biography" of Mr. Disraeli. An allusion to its origin may be acceptable to the uninitiated among our readers. When Lord Derby and Mr. Disraeli came into power, a certain morning paper, celebrated for its form er Radicalism and present Peelism, employed one of its staff of contributors (Mr. H—, a barrister) on the enviable task of raking up everything which could be brought against Mr. Disraeli, from his speeches, pamphlets, letters, works, or private history, in bygone days. The

advocate, thus hired and feed, set about his work with the keenness and appetite of a detective policeman. So enamoured of his sordid duties did he become, that he at length fashioned his gleanings into a "Biography," and gave it to the world under the auspices of a fashionable publisher. It is well worth reading, as being about the most unblushing piece of uninterrupted abuse pretending to "criticism" and fairness that has, perhaps, ever issued from the press. Its history would stamp its character; but it is really amusing to see how terribly hard has been the author's work to produce evidence for convicting a public character of "inconsistency," "incompetency," want of ability or of honesty, or anything else. Until we had read it, we did not believe that so little could be proved against any political man as against Mr. Disraeli. It has thoroughly removed from our mind the doubts that we really did once feel as to his " consistency." We now see, plainly, that though mature years have softened some of the wilder aspirations of the youth, though the changes in the circumstances of the nation have rendered a modification of many of his views a matter of common sense, though he is not absurd enough to propose in 1854 exactly the measure he would have advocated in 1830, yet in all the broad principles which should guide every philosophical politician he is unchanged, and only sees clearly, now, things which he but dimly perceived in early youth.

As for the literary criticism of the volume it is contemptible, because either the writer's intellect could not appreciate the works he refers to, or the pleasure of reviling was too great to allow him to exercise it fairly. Those who read and admire Disraeli's productions will not change their opinion because the author of a prose translation of "Faust," which no one can read, sneers at poetry which Moore commended, attacks a novel which Guizot praised, or abuses a romance which excited the admiration of Heinrich Heine.

No man living has raised the position of literature in England so much as Benjamin Disraeli; for by it, and through it, he has attained to an eminence reached by no other literary man of the day—unaided by riches, worldly position, or powerful connexions. And yet no man of letters has been more pertinaciously attacked by a crowd of small critics, who should have felt their own calling honoured in him. Why is this? Is it envy? is it anger because he has not chosen the popular side in politics? is it a worse reason still—because of his race? We fear-for it is the most humiliating reason to give-we fear it is the last. At all events, if only to record our own protest against this system of detraction, these few pages in the New Monthly Review will not have been written in vain.

BY JASPER DE JOLIFFE.

The adage which declares half a loaf better than no bread is sufficient authority for concluding, by a parity of reasoning, that a Degree from any University is preferable to not graduating at all. Thus impressed, as circumstances prevented me from enrolling my name in the Oxford or Cambridge books, I passed beneath the archway of Trinity College, Dublin, some years ago, accompanied by a friend, who kindly introduced me to a Reverend Fellow of the University, under whose tutorage I considered myself placed, during my career in that seat of learning.

Dublin College at present numbers one Provost, seven Senior and twenty-eight Junior Fellows; the latter act as tutors to the students, and in this capacity prepare their half-yearly accounts, afford their pupils any information they may require as to collegiate matters, and on the days of term examination ascertain if they are likely to be plucked-for in the event of this unpleasant probability, they generally obtain for them a re-examination, for the purpose of affording them another chance of passing.

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Tutors are complimented, but not enriched, by the number of their pupils indeed, so far from this office proving one of emolument, as the former are expected to invite the latter to breakfast on entrance morning, it may be safely concluded that it is rather detrimental, than otherwise, to the exchequer of the Fellows! Many of them only provide bread, butter, and tea, for matutinal refection, the college pump being considerably subsidized for the manufacture of the latter; perhaps with a delicate consideration, lest the nervous system of their guests should be impaired, and the students consequently unmanned for their approaching ordeal, by the strength of said potation! However, "mine host," I must say, provided for his party on a scale of regal magnificence, loading his board with every delicacy suitable for a morning repast.

After breakfast, we proceeded to the Hall, where we found about a hundred candidates for admission, seated on hard oak benches, ranged alongside four tables of the same wood, the surfaces of which were curiously furrowed, not by old age but by the penknives of the students, who register their names thereon, if skilful carvers, otherwise they merely cut splinters thereout, for the laudable purpose of passing time. Those present ranged in age from fifteen to fifty, judging by the "turn

downs" of the one, and the rivelled and bald appearance of the other class. The latter gentlemen generally turn out to be ushers, who, after years of careful saving, at length scrape up enough money to pay the college fees, so as to obtain a degree, prior to setting up a school, or else for the purpose of entering the ministry.

About ten o'clock, the doors being closed, came round the senior lecturer, with a book, wherein he entered the names of the students, as well as the professions of their fathers. I sat with the worthy son of an ironmonger on my left, while my friend on the right proved to be descended from an efficient officer of Her Majesty's Customs; and I feel morally certain that through the length and breadth of the Hall might have been found the male progeny of grocers, vintners, chandlers, and other such members of the profanum vulgus !

From this, the difficulty of distinguishing oneself at the Dublin University must at once be patent. Students whose fathers were behind the counter will work hard to emancipate themselves from trade; and by dint of study raise themselves, from an obscure station in society, to a position rendered honorable by learning. Consequently, the competition for all prizes, sizarships, scholarships, &c., is very great: so much so, that if you ever meet an honor-man of T. C. D. you may safely set down for certain "that man knows something!"

The examination was conducted vivâ voce; and, from all I understood about it, I should say no very accurate knowledge of the classics is required for entrance. However, we construed portions of four Greek and a like number of Latin books, and translated an English theme into the latter tongue, with variable degrees of merit. By four o'clock we were dismissed, and no examination "loomed in the future until the following February. We may as well employ the interval, by observing that the general appearance of the Dublin students is remarkable. The majority of them, like many learned personages, thoroughly despise dress, and adopt the most negligent style of attire conceivable. The paletot obtains unlimited favour, and flagrant vests are in the ascendant among them. Their chaussure looks clumsy, and usually belongs to the family of "highlows." Gloves are considered dispensable; and I venture to say that the names Taiko and Nobounanga are fully as familiar to the mass of under-graduates as the surnoms of Houbigant and Touvin.

I remember observing that erudite scholar Phelim Hogan, whose vestment presented a somewhat decayed appearance-not quite so seedy perhaps as Mr. Box's "get up" at the Haymarket-enter a ready-made emporium, and emerge therefrom so completely metamorphosed in "a bran new shute" that his own mother through sheer ignorance of his identity would, without controversy, have disowned him! Said "new

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shute" confessedly looked very well the first two or three days of wear, for the smoothing-iron had imparted a cunning gloss to the cloth; but, after it had experienced a heavy shower, this refulgence vanished, and there figured, in lieu of it, an infinity of spots, distributed over the surface of the texture, with a precision akin to the dotted appearance of Zahara, as represented on the maps! Thus the lustre of "this graceful and elegantly-fitting garment" proved ephemeral; and a verdict of seedy” would have been brought in, by all impartial judges, against the exterior of Phelim Hogan! As I have every reason to believe that the greater number of Trinity-college men patronize the ready-made department of the tailoring business, and consequently turn out like Hogan in a style of dress the most outrageous, I must pay a compliment to the academic gown; for, like charity, it covers a multitude of sins-of imperfections in costume, at least. Were it not for this, I should unhesitatingly pronounce it a most preposterous rag-as ridiculous, as useless! But why discompose the self-complacency of any of our friends? When O'Toole, in the simplicity of his heart, walks up and down Dame Street, his toga flaunting in the breeze, and considers himself monopolizing the general admiration of the pedestrian crowd-who doubtless will be reminded, if classically taught, of some ancient Roman going out to flaner on the Via Sacra-poor fellow! he little thinks he is affording no end of amusement to a couple of officers who march behind, smiling and criticising the grotesque parure of this learned descendant of the illustrious family of the O'Tooles.

I conclude my critique, on the personal appearance of the students, by remarking, that during my time in the College the University pump was frequently out of order; and the duty on soap had not been taken off!

At the first term examination, the gentleman who sat opposite me at table asked, rather abruptly, "Does my face look very dirty?”

Plain questions require plain answers, saith the adage: so I responded, with strict conformity to truth, that I had often seen countenances more spotlessly pure than his own.

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"Well," quoth he, "since I left Belfast, three days ago, I didn't wash my face." This seemed rather a queer boast. He continued :"You see, the hard water here peels the skin off my face entirely; so I can't wash it till I get home to the rain barrel—that'll be in a few days.”

I threw out intimations that Dublin was admirably supplied with pipe water from the canals; and that, so far from being abrading to the skin, I considered it cosmetic and detersive, in the fullest sense of these words. Whether he profited by the hint I know not, for I never saw the student since.