From this position Disraeli never swerved: it was his firm conviction that the preponderance of the landed interest was as much for the benefit of the whole labouring population of the country as it was for that of farmers and landowners. The year 1843, however, did not pass over without some indication of a change in the feelings of the conservative party towards the statesman whom they had so long venerated. The first symptoms of insubordination broke out on 9 Aug. on the introduction of the Irish Arms Bill, when Disraeli, Lord John Manners, Smythe, Baillie Cochrane, and the little party whom it was the fashion to style Young England, condemned the policy of the government as a violation of tory traditions, and, what was more, of the system to which the ministry had pledged itself. A violent attack was made upon them from the treasury bench, and in evidence that it was wholly unjustfiable we have the testimony of both the 'Times' and the 'Morning Chronicle,' which denounced this attempt to 'cow and bully' the rising talent of the house in no measured terms. Disraeli always maintained in regard to his quarrel with Sir Robert Peel that the provocation came from the prime minister, and whoever will take the trouble to refer to the newspapers we have mentioned under the aforesaid date will see that he had some warrant for the assertion. Whatever change of tone came over the metropolitan press at a subsequent period, it is clear that at the commencement of the misunderstanding between the two men the leading organs of opinion on both sides recognised the justice of Disraeli's protests.
He was not the man to forgive or to forget such treatment; and the hour of vengeance was at hand. The further development of Sir Robert Peel's financial system by degrees made it clear to his supporters that the principle of protection was doomed; and it is a moot question to this day whether a more confidential and conciliatory attitude on the part of the prime minister might not have overcome their resistance to a change which he himself had so rigorously and persistently opposed. Disraeli's chance in life now came to him. He became the spokesman of the malcontents two years before the great change was announced; and during that interval he poured forth speech after speech each bristling with sarcasms which went the round of Europe. Conservatism was an 'organised hypocrisy.' Peel 'had caught the whigs bathing, and run away with their clothes,' an image perhaps suggested by a copy of verses in the 'Craftsman.' His mind was a huge appropriation clause.
The agricultural interest was likened to a cast-off mistress who makes herself troublesome to her late protector, and then 'the right honourable gentleman sends down his valet who says in the genteelest manner "We can have no whining here."' Sir Robert was like the Turkish admiral who had steered his fleet right into the enemy's port. He 'was no more a great statesman than the man who gets up behind the carriage is a great whip.' There was just that element of truth in all these taunts which would have made it difficult for the most imperturbable of mankind to hear them with indifference. Peel writhed under them; and, whatever his original offence, it is impossible to excuse the severity of the punishment inflicted.
The Maynooth grant, on which Disraeli opposed and Lord John Manners supported the government, broke up the Young England party; but its spirit survived and lives still in the pages of 'Coningsby' and 'Sybil.' These works were published in 1844 and 1845, just before the repeal of the corn laws, and while the conservative party was outwardly still unbroken. The sensation which they created was enormous, and the effect which they produced was lasting. The political views expounded in these famous novels had already been broached in the 'Vindication of the British Constitution,' but there they attracted little notice; and for this reason perhaps the author decided to recast them in the form of fiction. The pith and marrow of the theory which they embodied was that from 1688 to 1832 the government of the country had been a close oligarchy, 'the Venetian constitution,' and that by the Reform Bill of 1832 the crown, having been delivered from the aristocratic connections which had usurped its prerogatives, might perhaps be destined to regain some of its suspended powers, and that herein might lie the best solution of many of our modern difficulties.
The tories had fought bravely for the old constitution, which with all its faults was a reality, as the 'Edinburgh Review' admitted in reviewing Disraeli's novels. But now that this was gone what had they in its place? Peel had not supplied a substitute, or a creed which could inspire faith. Could such a substitute be found in the revival of the monarchical principle, combined with the great Anglican movement which had already taken root at Oxford? In this question lies the key to 'Coningsby' and 'Sybil.' Disraeli looked back to Bolingbroke and Wyndham, as Newman and his friends looked back to Laud and Andrewes, and asked himself whether the tory idea of monarchy, as it existed in
