The other political leader of the Victorian era with whom Gladstone came most constantly into conflict was Disraeli, of whom Browning in "George Bubb Dodington" has given a sketch in order to draw a contrast between the unsuccessful policy of a charlatan of the Dodington type and that of one like Disraeli. The skeptical multitude of to-day cannot be taken in by declarations that the politician is working only for their good, and if he frankly acknowledged that he is working also for his own good they would have none of him. The nice point to be decided is how shall he work for his own good and yet gain control of the multitude. Dodington did not know the secret, but according to Browning Disraeli did, and what is the secret? It seems to be an attitude of absolute self-assurance, a disregard of consistency, a scorn of the people he is dealing with, and a pose suggesting the play of supernatural forces in his life. This is a true enough picture of the real Disraeli, who seems to have had a leaning toward a belief in spiritualism, and who was notorious for his unblushing changes of opinion and for a style of oratory in which his points were made by clever invective and sarcasm hurled at his opponents instead of by any sound, logical argument, it being, indeed one of his brilliant discoveries that "wisdom ought to be concealed under folly, and consistency under caprice." Many choice bits of history might be given in illustration of Browning's portrayal of him; for example, speaking against reform, he exclaims: "Behold the late Prime Minister and the Reform Ministry! The spirited and snow-white steeds have gradually changed into an equal number of sullen and obstinate donkeys, while Mr. Merryman, who, like the Lord Chancellor, was once the very life of the ring, now lies his despairing length in the middle of the stage, with his jokes exhausted and his bottle empty." As a specimen of his quickness in retort may be cited an account of an episode which occurred at the time when he came out as the champion of the Taunton Blues. In the course of his speech he "enunciated," says an anonymous writer of the fifties, "one of those daring historical paradoxes which are so signally characteristic of the man: 'Twenty years ago' said the Taunton Blue hero, 'tithes were paid in Ireland more regularly than now!' "Even his supporters appeared astounded by this declaration. "'How do you know?' shouted an elector. "'I have read it,' replied Mr. Disraeli. "'Oh, oh!' exclaimed the elector. "'I know it,' retorted Disraeli, 'because I have read, and you' (looking daggers at his questioner) 'have not.' "This was considered a very happy rejoinder by the friends of the candidate, and was loudly cheered by the Blues. "'Didn't you write a novel?' again asked the importunate elector, not very much frightened even by Mr. Disraeli's oratorical thunder and the sardonical expression on his face.