side of liberal and enlarged views. An orator he is not, but his speeches are worth attention. He brought forward the motions for a repeal of the taxes on knowledge, and the committee on the state of the drama, which finally resulted in his excellent bill for the protection of dramatic copyright. The first motion, after long debating, ended in the reduction of advertisement and stamp duties on newspapers. In some speeches on that question, he threw out hints for a penny postage, and the conveyance of books by post-both of which have been subsequently carried out.

To finish what has here to be said on his parliamentary career, let us add, that after the Reform Bill he came in for Lincoln, for which he sat till the Parliament before the present. His best speeches are those on taxes on knowledge-Municipal Corporations-the Irish Church, and one on the immediate emancipation of slaves. The last-named was printed by the Society for the Emancipation, and was looked upon as his most effective speech. It produced a considerable sensation at the time.

What might have been the result of a longer parliamentary career, we know not, for he had just made way in the House, and secured a hearing, when he left it. Now, seeing that he has generally failed in his first efforts, and succeeded only after failure, one is tempted to assume that had he persevered he would have achieved a reputation as a speaker. His first novel was a failure, his first satire was a failure, his first drama was a failure, his first poems were failuresso were his first speeches, but he outlived the failure and was rising into success when he stopped short.

In 1832, he published "Eugene Aram," one of his most powerful and popular romances. He then undertook the editorship of the "New Monthly Magazine," which flourished under his care as a Magazine, but did not flourish so well as a commercial speculation. The best of his contributions were subsequently collected under the title of "The Student." He wrote also some capital articles in the "Edinburgh Review," among which the most striking and memorable was one on the "Life and Works of Sir Thomas Brown.” While on the subject of articles, let us mention his contributions to the "London," and "London and Westminster Reviews," when under the editorship of John Mill: those on the " Philosophy of Fiction," on "Gray," and on the "Court of Queen Anne," are worth reprinting. Eugene Aram" was followed by "Godolphin; or, The Oath," published anonymously in 1833; and in the same year by " England and the English," and "Pilgrims of the Rhine."

66

After two years' active editorship, the "New Monthly" was given

up. He had endeavoured to turn its pleasant pages into a critical and political organ of a more serious nature, and the attempt was not successful in a commercial point of view. He dreaded also the effect of constant periodical writing upon his own style and thoughts. It should not be forgotten that, as editor and critic, he was above all petty feelings of rivalry, and was solicitous that his contemporaries should be favourably reviewed in his pages-in fact, he reviewed most of them himself. He did all he could to shew the latent power in D'Israeli, and the great promise in Tennyson; and was the first who drew notice to Elliot, whose "Corn Law Rhymes" were published in London on the strength of that review (they had before appeared roughly at Sheffield); and was the first to review Monckton

Milnes. An elaborate review of Sheridan Knowles, and constant defence of Scott's beauties may also be read there.

With the "New Monthly" off his hands, he determined on going to Italy. The effect of Italy upon his whole culture is very striking: it marks a new era in his intellectual development, as plainly as it did in that of Göthe. Like Göthe, he too was deeply influenced by the atmosphere of art, so to speak, which he breathed there, and which enters very largely into all his works written after that visit. Rienzi was inspired by Rome. Moving amidst the lingering shadows of that antique world he could not resist the impulse to recreate the figures which had made the ground so sacred. At Naples he wrote the greater part of the "The Last Days of Pompeii. It was in Italy that he was first led to think of the drama, and wrote the tragedy of "Cromwell "—whether suggested by Victor Hugo's famous "drama” -or whether Rienzi called up the figure of that far greater tribune of the people, we cannot say. "Cromwell" was never published, but Fox gave an eulogistic review of it in the "London and Westminster;" in spite of which Bulwer destroyed it, as not adapted for the stage.

The "Last Days of Pompeii" was published in 1834, and the town was delighted with its gorgeous pictures. Why has not some ingenious writer thought of turning it into a ballet? The "scenic effects" in which ballets indulge are here given profusely.

In 1835, Rienzi appeared; and somewhere about this time, we believe, "Leila; or, the Siege of Granada." He then wrote the "Duchess de la Valière," which struggled through nine nights of bad acting, and was finally withdrawn as an admitted failure. It is said to be his favourite play, being more poetical in structure and diction than the others.

If he failed with his "Duchess," he took ample revenge with his "Lady of Lyons"-written in ten days-the most attractive play of modern times; his "Richelieu," also a good play; and his amusing comedy of "Money," written at the baths of Aix la Chapelle, and sent to England in letters. The "Sea Captain," though it was played often, must be reckoned as a failure. In 1837, the first two volumes of "Athens: its Rise and Fall," appeared. It had been slowly growing, and bears evidence of careful composition; but the simultaneous appearance of Thirlwall, and the information that Grote was occupied on the same subject, made him relinquish the design of completing it. On this point we may quote the comment of a recent reviewer of Grote's History. "If it be true," he says, "that Bulwer shrinks from the completion of his brilliant book on "Athens,' because he fancies that the ground is already occupied, we beg leave to assure him that such a supposition is perfectly erroneous; that there is abundant need of his and of other men's works; that such a supposition would have infinitely more plausibility with regard to the earlier portions of the history than to those more stirring times which he has undertaken to depict. His work is written for the general reader, not the scholar; this alone gives it a distinctive position. True it is that his reputation in the lighter fields of literature has damaged the reputation of his history; because, while his reputation as a novelist is against him with scholars, the nature of his work is against him with the majority of his old readers. Nevertheless, there seems to be but one opinion respecting

its merit by those who have read it, which we have done three times. It should not be left a fragment.”*

For the reviewer's comfort it may be added that half of the concluding portion of this work has been long written, and perhaps his word may influence the author to finish it.

After the publication of "Athens," Bulwer undertook, in company with Dr. Lardner and Sir David Brewster, to edit the "Monthly Chronicle." The first number was promising, and contained three papers by Bulwer, one of them the beginning of "Zicci, a tale,” subsequently re-written as "Zanoni." But the second number was a choke-pear. Never was there such a block of dulness tumbled forth upon the public: the crash frightened away subscribers, and at the end of the year Bulwer gave up the hopeless concern.

66

In 1837 Maltravers" appeared, and again the cry was raised that Bulwer had pourtrayed himself; the critics not troubling themselves to reconcile the contradiction of his being at one and the same time Pelham and Maltravers!

In 1838,"Alice; or, the Mysteries," concluded "Maltravers." It was held by him to be the most matured of all his works; whether he would say so now may be a question.

He had enjoyed himself by another expedition on foot, travelling over a great part of Ireland and some parts of England which he had not seen before: so that the readers of his novels will be able to account for the roving propensities of his heroes, and will see from whence he has derived his love of scenery, and the out-of-door freshness which he contrives to throw over so many descriptions.

In 1841 appeared "Night and Morning;" in 1842, "Zanoni,” and "Eva, and other Poems;" in 1843, the "Last of the Barons." Then came the "Translation of the Poems of Schiller," with its well-written memoir, and the " Life of Laman Blanchard," somewhat querulous and unhealthy in its tone. The pamphlet on the "Water Cure" and-if we are to call it his-the "New Timon" followed.

In 1846 came "Lucretia," the work which displays, perhaps, the greatest power of all, though the impression it leaves is disagreeable. In 1848 we have to register "King Arthur," on the assumption that it is his; the "Caxtons, a family picture," now publishing in "Blackwood,"—also an assumption, but very confidently assumed by those who profess sagacity in such matters; and, finally, "Harold, the Last of the Saxon Kings," which he avows, and which he may be proud to avow.

We may conclude this catalogue of his works by one or two traits interesting to literary aspirants. The first is that he has worked his way to eminence,-worked it through failure, through ridicule. His facility is only the result of practice and study. He wrote at first very slowly and with great difficulty; but he resolved to master the stubborn instrument of thought, and mastered it. He has practised writing as an art, and has re-written some of his essays (unpublished) nine or ten times over.

Another habit will show the advantage of continuous application. He only works about three hours a day,-from ten in the morning till one, seldom later. The evenings, when alone, are devoted to reading, scarcely ever to writing. Yet what an amount of good hard * West, Rev. vol. XLVI. p. 381.

labour has resulted from these three hours! He writes very rapidly, averaging twenty pages a day of novel print.

Courage, industry, and perseverance are qualities which he has brought to bear upon high aims and distinguished abilities. The results have been adequate. His career is honourable to himself, and a lesson to men of letters.

One remark must be made before concluding, and that is upon the true conception of the literary man's position with regard to letters, as illustrated in Bulwer's career. He has avoided an error which is all the more common because the public encourages it. The man who has succeeded in any one department is always looked on with suspicion if he attempt another. People are reluctant in giving credit to various accomplishments. They will admit your superiority on one point—it does not affect their self-love; they flatter themselves that they are superior to you on others: but if you attempt to prove your superiority on other points, you invade their domain and irritate their complacency. Why doesn't he stick to his novels?" says the historian; "Why does he attempt the drama?" says the dramatist; "How absurd to fancy himself a politician!" exclaims the M.P. It is thought to be no answer to say that the man is versatile, has many faculties, and employs them: the public like a man to confine himself to one special topic. Division of labour is the grand thing: if you have made pins' heads, content yourself with that, and do not venture upon points.

Accordingly we see men always working the mine where they once discovered gold, and afraid to dig elsewhere. They repeat themselves. All their works are but changes of name and costume. Like sculptors who having once carved from marble a statue which has been admired, they continue taking casts from that statue in different, and often indifferent, material.

Not thus has Bulwer worked. When once he has done a thing, he has done with it; new blocks of marble lie before him, new creations are wrought from them. Having once written a "Pelham," he writes no more dandy novels; having once written a "Rienzi," he writes no more "Tribune" novels. "Athens" follows the "Duchess de la Vallière," and "Maltravers" follows "Athens." He gives no repetition of the "Lady of Lyons," though urged by actors, managers, and public. He writes just as the impulse urges him, not as a clamorous, foolish public wishes. Into various spheres of activity he throws his active mind, and always with new result. A resolute diver, he plunges into the dark ocean, struggles amidst the waves, and rises each time with a new pearl. The amount of wealth he has thus accumulated should always be estimated when his career is spoken of. He has, we say, obeyed his own impulse: the olorpos has been within, not without. Although he has been, perhaps, more than anxious about pleasing the public aud writing for effect, he has only done so in the matter of form. He has chosen, to please himself; he has written, to please the many.

This double tendency may, perhaps, be attributed to the remarkable mixture in him of the real and the ideal. Two conflicting tendencies are observable in his mind: one towards the vague, the grand, and ideal; the other towards the concrete, the palpable, and real. He is half an enthusiast, half a man of fashion; to the pretensions of the recluse student he adds the habits and tendencies of a

man-about-town. The mixture is more remarkable than harmonious. His soul springs aspiringly to the skies, but is clogged with too much earth, and falls down again after an ineffectual effort. It may be said, indeed, that his ideal tendencies give a refinement and elevation to his works, which would otherwise be too worldly, too slang, and too sarcastic; but there can be no doubt, we think, that his works would gain in force, distinctness, and harmony, if he had been more decidedly ideal or more decidedly real in his tendencies.

He is now in the prime of life and maturity of his faculties; long as the list of his works now is, few will assert that he has given his dernier mot, and we may yet have to welcome a series of more perfect works than any he has hitherto produced. May he have all health to write them! Courage he does not want; for however sensitive he may be to obloquy, he never suffers it to divert him from his path; and as for the carpings of critics he can console himself with the grave words of Tacitus, "scitis enim magnam illam et duraturam eloquentiæ famam non minus in diversis subselliis parari quam suis;" or, in the apt illustration of Johnson, "Fame, sir, is a shuttlecock; unless it be struck at both ends of the room, it will fall to the ground."

THE OFFER AND REFUSAL.

BY ALFRED CROWQUILL.

He.-THE sun streams down, so brightly tinging
Leaves and flowers with golden hue,

And turns with lavish light to diamonds
Every trembling drop of dew.

Soft evening comes, and starry flowers,

Close their eyes and turn away,

All drooping at your lovely presence,

Beauteous creature, well they may !

For all their sweetness, all their brightness,

Combined in thee alone I see;

And I, like them, thus bend me lowly,

As slave to your divinity.

Ah! on your lips, so sweetly tempting,
Plays a smile that lights your eyes;
Sweet conqueror, then, prithee, let me
Seize it, taste it, ere it dies.

She.-Come, pray be off, and just be quiet,
You've said that stuff before, I know,
And would to every girl that listen'd,
But I'm not to be treated so.

"T is from some book, not from your heart, sir,

For true love has the least to say,

So don't kneel there among the thistles,

But let me go past on my way;

Besides, you know, you 've eaten onions
In your porridge, luckless wight,
Therefore, I have good strong reasons
Against your sighs of love to-night;
So pray don't bother, keep your distance,
For sure it is not well behaved

To spout such stuff, and promise kisses
When you know you 've not been shaved.