encourage him to put his trust in the progress of Western Europe.

_Tancred_ is written in Disraeli's best middle style, full, sonorous,
daring, and rarely swelling into bombast. It would even be too uniformly
grave if the fantastic character of Facredeen did not relieve the
solemnity of the discourse with his amusing tirades. Like that of all
Disraeli's novels, the close of this one is dim and unsatisfactory. If
there is anything that the patient reader wants to know it is how the
Duke and Duchess of Bellemont behaved to the Lady of Bethany when they
arrived at Jerusalem and found their son in the kiosk under her
palm-tree. But this is curiosity of a class which Disraeli is not
unwilling to awaken, but which he never cares to satisfy. He places the
problems in a heap before us, and he leaves us to untie the knots. It is
a highly characteristic trait of his mind as a writer that he is for
ever preoccupied with the beginnings of things, and as little as
possible with their endings.

It is not, however, from _Tancred_ but from _Coningsby_, that we take
our example of Disraeli's second manner:--

"Even to catch Lord Monmouth's glance was not an easy affair; he
was much occupied on one side by the great lady, on the other were
several gentlemen who occasionally joined in the conversation. But
something must be done.

"There ran through Coningsby's character, as we have before
mentioned, a vein of simplicity which was not its least charm. It
resulted, no doubt, in a great degree from the earnestness of his
nature. There never was a boy so totally devoid of affectation,
which was remarkable, for he had a brilliant imagination, a quality