generally men who have found themselves unable to write them; and men, moreover, who entertain on that score reasonable annoyance and spleen. They have been foiled in literature, therefore they set up as its guardians. St. Nepomuk was made the patron saint of bridges, and of all who pass over them, simply because he himself happened to lose his life from a bridge. The reason is an exquisite one, and very plain; and so is it with our critics. Some, however, it will be urged, have really passed the bridge. It must have been an asses' one then. They may have written books, but the books, we dare be sworn, were very bad ones. But enough of the reviewers.

A narrow escape, too, Mr. Bulwer would seem to have had from those more dreaded, and more powerful guardians of the gates of literaturethe publishers. We have here a description of the first trials he made, and of the reception they met with from "a celebrated publisher, who considered the volume of too slight a nature for separate publication, and recommended me to send the best of the papers to a magazine. I was not at that time much inclined to a periodical mode of publishing, and thought no more of what, if nuge to the reader, had indeed been difficiles to the author. Soon afterwards I went abroad." On his return he had the good fortune (yet how much less an advantage to him than to the world!) to meet with a more favourable reception for his subsequent writings from Mr. Colburn.

This edition of " Pelham" is rendered still more valuable by the first publication, in a sketch of some forty pages, of the original germ of that masterly novel. The reader will follow with interest these "first sprightly runnings" of Mr. Bulwer's genius. They sufficiently indicate the full stream of wit, eloquence, passion, and power, which was so soon to follow. Mr. Bulwer, though a boy in years when he wrote "Mortimer; or the Memoirs of a Gentleman," had yet some experience of the world, which he had entered prematurely. The result is precisely what was to have been expected under such circumstances. The world is the agent, the man the passive instrument. "Mortimer" is changed by the usages of society, against which he cannot struggle, and becomes little better than a fiend. The way in which this is wrought is really at times appalling, from the very levity and boy-like sport of the most passionate situations. We feel ourselves one moment in the control of a master of the emotions, and find ourselves laughed at the next, and made nearly ridiculous. Out of all this how nobly, and with what a fine self-correcting moral," Pelham" has arisen! There we find, that let the usages of the world be what they may, a man of sense can subject them to himself, instead of being conquered by them, and "gradually grow wise by the very foibles of his youth." Mr. Bulwer has, indeed, wrought out his own conception of a new, a useful, and a happy moral in this celebrated work. He has redeemed and brightened the commonplaces of life, and proved that "the lessons of society do not necessarily corrupt, but that we may be both men of the world, and even, to a certain degree, men of pleasure, and yet be something wiser-nobler-better."

We are very sure that no one ever yet read " Pelham" in a right and proper spirit without feeling thus-wiser, nobler, better for its lessons. That has already secured for Mr. Bulwer the grateful hearing and the applause of posterity.

A PASSAGE" IN THE LIFE OF TOM BERMINGHAM.

"TOM!" said my worthy progenitor to me, as we sat one evening over a second bottle of unpaid claret, at his chambers in Albany; "Tom, what is that ungentlemanlike and ill-folded dispatch that you're conning so attentively, with a face that's enough to turn your wine into vinegar? My tailor's bill, Sir," said I, with a groan that came ab imis præcordiis, followed up by a scarcely audible maledictory exclamation, which I will not repeat, for fear of shocking the ladies.

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"Poor devil!" ejaculated the "governor."

"Meaning me, Sir?" said I.

"No, Tom, meaning your tailor; you're welcome to the benefit of it, however. But no matter; fill your glass, and let us hear the sum total."

"Only five hundred, Sir, in round numbers."

"Is that all? how very moderate!" exclaimed my exemplary parent. "Why, indeed, Sir," said I, "it might as well have been a thousand, for any chance he has of seeing his money."

"That you may say, Tom; but this sort of thing can't go on for ever, and how long do you flatter yourself that it will last?"

"That is a point beyond my powers of computation, Sir; a spent fortune is like a spent cannon-ball-it goes a great way before it stops." "Ay! but it does stop at last, Tom; and let me tell you, there was but a small trifle of powder in the charge, at starting. Tom, there's but one thing for it, and I've told you so a thousand times, only you keep never-minding me; you must marry an heiress or a rich widow."

"The Lord defend me from widows, Sir!" exclaimed I, with a shudder (for there was a widow-and a rich widow too-but more of her anon); and as for heiresses, Sir, I don't believe in them. They are like ghosts, or mermaids, or griffins, or unicorns; one hears of such things-some of them well-authenticated cases too-but one never meets with them oneself."

"Psha! Tom, you are a lazy, indolent dog, or you might do very well, if you would set about it in earnest; to begin with, you are a devilish good-looking fellow!"

"So the women do say," answered I, with a peep at the chimneyglass.

"Six feet one."

"In my stockings," said I.

"Young enough, in any conscience," said my father.

"I should think so," said I," in spite of my wig."

"A Captain in the Guards."

"True," said I," for the last ten years, and heartily sick of the same."

"Heir-apparent to an old Baronetcy, and an estate of three thousand a year, in the county Tipperary."

"Yes," said I, "saddled with a double mortgage, and the jointures of two immortal old women!

"Well, Tom, all the more necessary for you to make the most of it. You know very well it's all up with me; and if this infernal dissolution takes place, I shall find it convenient to cross the water for the benefit

of my health; but it's of no use talking to you. Are you going to the Opera to-night?"

"I believe I must look in there by-and-by; Lady Hornsey has sent me a ticket, as usual."

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Ay, ay! There's a chance for you, I have no doubt, if you think proper to avail yourself of it; a mighty good sort of woman, I'm told, with a clear five thousand a year."

"Yes, with a face like a nutmeg-grater, and a squint that's enough to give one a vertigo!-old enough to be my mother, too!"

The carriage is ready, Sir Dionysius," said the servant, most opportunely interrupting our tête-à-tête.

"Well," said the Baronet, "go your own road, Tom; you young gentlemen are always too wise to be taught--you must buy your experience, and a rare price you are likely to pay for it."

"Faith! so Fought," said I, "for it's the only thing I am ever likely to pay for !"

Thereupon, my revered relative walked off, leaving me to the society of the empty claret-jug and my own reflections.

"Tom," quoth I, soliloquizing," the governor is right-something must be done in the matrimonial line-it is now or never-you will be thirty next month- time has thinned your flowing locks'-a grey hair makes its appearance now and then in your whiskers-but for all that, your day is not yet gone by-you must be up and doing,' howeverthe spring is half over-there is an end to all things in this world, even to the patience of well-bred duns and the credit of civilized debtors—it is highly probable that before the shooting season fairly sets in, you may be reduced to the dreadful alternative of Lady Hornsey or the King's Bench- the dagger or the bowl' with a vengeance!-N'importe !death before the dowager! say I; but in the mean time, we may as well make the most of her Opera tickets."

"Habit," saith the proverb, " is second nature;" which philosophical maxim accounts, they say, for the equanimity of eels under the process of excoriation, and the cheerful vivacity of lobsters during their immersion in boiling water. We certainly get used to everything in this world, from the tax-gatherer to the tic-douloureux; and fortunately for myself, long practice had qualified me to emulate the firmness displayed by the above mentioned ichthyological proficients in practical philosophy. In fact, although I could not be said, either literally or metaphorically, to have been ever flayed alive, hot water was a medium in which I had long existed so habitually, that my moral epidermis might be fairly reported as proof against a scald. Thus it was that in spite of the uncomfortable prognostics in which my worthy father indulged, and I could not fail to participate, I found no difficulty in summoning the requisite degree of placid nonchalance to my aid ere I showed myself at the King's Theatre-no fit locale for the exhibition of blue devils, except such as figure in the opera of " Don Giovanni" or the ballet of "Faust."

To one less seasoned than myself to the contrariétés attendant on financial embarrassments, my entrance into the pit would have appeared singularly inauspicious; for there, in the door-way, leaning with his elbow against the wall, while his correctly-attired person, gracefully disposed in conformity to Hogarth's "line of beauty," projected so far as nearly to impede the passage, stood my tailor!-the identical schnei

der whose "small account" had given rise to the unsatisfactory discussion which I have just reported.

A tyro in the noble science of dun-soothing would certainly have endeavoured to slip by unobserved, under the conviction that it is highly inexpedient to recall the fact of your existence to the memory of your creditors, unless you have serious thoughts of paying them; but I knew better. Civility is a cheap" circulating medium," and although not strictly a "legal tender" for value received, it is often effectual to procrastinate still farther the long-deferred "resumption of cash payments." Mr. was gazing intently through his mother-of-pearl Devonshire, which was braqué in the direction of a box on the first tier. J'aurais pu m'éclipser; but I scorned it.

"How d'ye do, Mr.?" said I, addressing him with as much disinvoltura as if he had been a member of White's.

Mr. — acknowledged my courtesy with a flattered look. For a tailor, he was very much like a gentleman.

6

May I ask to what bright particular star' you are just now confining your astronomical observations?" said I, seeing the lorgnette again brought into play.

"I was admiring the beautiful Miss Henderson," answered he; “in that box over the second chandelier. The great heiress, I mean."

"What! a beauty and an heiress, too! That is a conjunction unheard of in the planetary system of our London world. Perhaps you could put me in the way of an introduction."

"I very much wish it was in my power to do so, Captain Bermingham," answered the schneider, with an obliging smile and a respectful

bow.

"So do I, with all my heart, Mr. said I, as I walked off; "for your sake, as well as my own," added I, sotto voce, however; for I feared he might think the observation personal.

"Well," thought I to myself, as I squeezed through the alley, in the direction of Miss Henderson's box, "Fas est et ab hoste doceri ;" which, freely translated, means that a gentleman may take a hint even from his tailor. "Let us see what this divinity is like."

I looked up. I was transfixed. She was a divinity! Such an alabaster brow! such glossy ringlets! such Grecian purity of features! and, better still, such British purity of expression! such a soul in that soft dark eye! such a delicate tinge on that fair cheek! such grace and dignity in that swan-like neck; with a hand and arm that might have driven Phidias himself to desperation! "She is an angel!" exclaimed I: "but an heiress! the thing is impossible."

From this vision of Paradise I turned to a far different object--my adorable widow, whose box was at no great distance, and so situated, that she could take very accurate note of the direction in which my eyes had been fixed for the previous ten minutes. From the unusual projection of her black velvet hat over the parapet, I shrewdly suspected that she was watching my movements; and although I was by no means desirous to encourage the development of her unhappy penchant, yet as I found her a convenient acquaintance, I came to the conclusion that politeness required me to pay my respects to her forthwith, especially as I might, perhaps, without any apparent anxiety on the subject, elicit some information concerning Miss Henderson, from one who dealt in all the gossip, and more than all the scandal, of London.

She received me but coldly, in consequence, probably, of the tardiness of my arrival; and seemed disposed to "play off" the individual who had preceded me in the performance of his devoirs. This was a rawboned, pale-faced and lanky-haired Professor at the Royal Institution, who wore gold spectacles, and took vast quantities of Lundy Foot. His appearance, I should have thought, would have been a regular scareCupid; but Lady Hornsey was blue as ignited alcohol, and there is no calculating the force of scientific sympathies.

After remaining for a short time a silent auditor of some very inflammatory discourse concerning the nature of gases, sufficiently analogous to the state of the atmosphere, I determined to leave the worthy Professor in undisturbed possession of the field; and accordingly made my escape on the first practicable opportunity which a pause in the conversation afforded.

In spite of all my inquiries I could obtain no positive information on the subject of the lovely Miss Henderson, whose anti-romantic name I was the less inclined to deplore, from the consolatory reflection that it was changeable. That she attracted a good deal of attention was evident; but all those to whom I applied for the necessary domiciliary, genealogical, and financial renseignemens, seemed as much at a loss as myself to account for the sudden and unannounced appearance of so brilliant a luminary in the " starry firmament" of fashion.

It need scarcely be told that, ere the close of the ballet, I took my station at the entrance of the crush-room, to watch for the arrival of my nymph, on her way to her carriage. She came forth from her box, leaning on an elderly man, evidently her father, and accompanied by a mustachioed merveilleux in waiting. If she had appeared lovely at a distance, her attractions certainly lost nothing on a nearer inspection; and the witchery of her soft, clear voice, which occasionally reached my ear, as she addressed a few observations to her party, accomplished the work of fascination, and completed the measure of the romantic enthusiasm with which the first glance of her angelic countenance had inspired me.

While thus "drinking delicious poison" from her eyes, I stood gazing upon her in mute admiration, at a respectful distance, I heard snatches of conversation behind me, in which her claims and perfections seemed to form the principal subject of discussion.

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Lovely creature!-Splendid eyes, by Jove!-Miss Hendersongreat heiress-uncle died in India-father, City man-very wealthyStock Exchange-hundred and fifty thousand down.-Man with her!Lord Clon-something-or-other-Irish peer-very hard up-not a rapcleaned out a few nights since at the Athenæum *”

I looked wistfully towards the interlocuteurs, but they were strangers to me. I had, however, obtained some hearsay evidence respecting the lady, and was obliged to content myself with that for the present.

How malignantly envious I felt of Lord Clon-something-or-other when I heard the fair object of my devotion say to him, with a winning smile, as she prepared to obey the summons that reached her from below," Remember, we shall expect to see your Lordship on Monday evening,―a very small party."

* Meaning, of course, not the distinguished club, but the notorious gamblinghouse of that name.