What will he do with it?

THIS novel, the last of the three Caxton novels, may be ranked, deservedly, among the most elaborate and finished, as well as most fascinating of Bulwer's later works. I say later works, for it is to his more recent publications that our author owes his great and increasing popularity. His earlier efforts, both in Romance and in the Drama, were condemned by the public voice, partly on account of blemishes and intrinsic demerits in the works themselves, but chiefly, because of the sharp and unfriendly strictures of the Critics. The Reviewersthe oracles of the literary world-up to a quite recent period, have attacked Bulwer's writings with uniform asperity, and have pronounced them wanting in the essentials of literary excellence; while, on the other hand, Moralists, as well as the Clergy, have declaimed warmly against their doubtful moral and religious tendencies. It is not impossible that the author, having become wiser under the influence of these incessant, and at times ungenerous attacks, has chosen at length to espouse more decidedly the cause of good morals; but, at all events, at present it must be allowed that even the most unsympathizing reader is unable to detect, in the Caxton novels, the profligacy of sentiment and laxity of moral principle, which were said to pervade the characters of the Romances and Plays. To caricature virtue and embellish vice, to make heroes of the weak, the vain, the profligate, is what no writer, however brilliant his genius, can successfully accomplish; nor does it appear that Bulwer has ever deliberately attempted this, even in those works that are esteemed most objectionable. If these late novels furnish any correct index of the tastes of the author, we may justly conceive him to be no craven apologist for the follies and foibles of our nature; no ungallant defender of the shifts and artifices and falsehoods of social life, whether in high or low circles; but on the contrary a foe to pretense, to legalized shams, and an ardent worshiper at the shrine of nature, intellect, beauty, virtue. Let any one read, thoughtfully, either of the Caxton novels; let him, for instance, study the characteristics of some of the leading personages in " What will he do with it?" such personages as the humorous, eccentric, simple-hearted Gentleman Waife, the chivalric Lionel Haughton, the eloquent Christian preacher, George Morley, the pureminded Lady Montfort, and he will hardly fail to be convinced that

the genius which thus exalts, in its creations, the better qualities of human nature, can be inspired. in its best moments at least, by none other than the loftiest and purest motives.

But I had not designed undertaking any refutation of the caustic criticisms that have been thrown out, from time to time, against Bulwer's writings. I would only like to set forth some of his prominent traits as a writer, particularly as a novel-writer, and perhaps I can soonest compass this by examining, cursorily, a single work-the one whose title heads this article.

The design of the novelist in "What will he do with it?" is, if I judge rightly, to illustrate English pride of name and family-a pride that finds a counterpart in no other nation, and which an American can but inadequately appreciate. We see in the hero of the story, as the author pictures him to us, a man of superb intellect, of spotless integrity, of the highest conceivable sense of honor, consecrating himself in early life by vows at once secret and earnest as his own great nature, to the sacred work of restoring a family line, once noble, now decayed, to its old high place of honor in the land. This is an exalted end for the aims of ambition; yet not sufficiently exalted, as the author succeeds in showing, to be made the sole, guiding purpose in the life of a truly great man. Darrell is great in the strength of his collected will, great in the majesty of his splendid natural powers, but the grandeur of his character is marred by his haughty pride, by his devotion to that one o'ermastering purpose, by his becoming an "idolater to the creed of an ancestor's name." Now, it is in the successful union of these contrary elements of strength and weakness-elements which belong, perforce, to the noblest earthly character, but which novelists often fail to embody in their heroes,-that we see evinced the masterly skill of the author. Darrell, controlled by his master-passion-a passion not unworthy in itself, but to which he allows an undue sway-becomes not in any sense ignoble or contemptible, only less noble than he might otherwise have been; and when, at last, baffled by sorrow, and convinced, by the persuasive Morley, of the grand mistake of his uncompleted life, he renounces his long-cherished idol, he yet does not endeavor to crush, but simply to restrain and chasten his ancestral pride. With the intellect and heart he possesses, he cannot always be in error, but, loyal to his native disposition and to his memories of the past, he cannot give up, entirely, his haughtiness of race.

Now, this single analysis of the author's favorite character, though its evidence might be strengthened by taking up in like manner, one

by one, all the principal personages in the story, ought, it would seem, to be of itself sufficient to expose the shallowness of those criticisms which affirm that Bulwer's creations are inconsistent, and not distinguishable one from another. Darrell, Alban Morley, and Gentleman Waife, are all strongly individualized; neither are they mere repetitions of the characters in any of the author's previous works.

But, in addition, Bulwer's characters, beside being thus distinctly delineated, are also powerfully and naturally imbued with passionthey reveal, in word and act, the concealed workings of the heart. In this consists one of the highest achievements in the art of the novelist. The true scope of the novel is the delineation, or rather, the personification of absorbing passion. It is not enough to give minute descriptions of manners and conduct; to narrate wondrous adventures or extol heroic deeds; the novelist must be able to create, as it were, life-like characters, and make them speak and act for themselves. Thus Scott, from partial lack of this power, which Bulwer possesses in a high degree, as is shown most clearly in the novel I am now considering-Scott, I say, must be reckoned a writer of historical romance, rather than a novelist. He tells charming tales of chivalrous adventure, describes, with surpassing skill, natural scenes, and paints, in vivid colors, the pomp and terrors of the battle-field, the gorgeous scenery of court and palace, but he cannot, like Bulwer, analyze the inner life, and lay bare the secret springs of thought and action. Scott describes, Bulwer delineates.

To illustrate the remarkable success with which Bulwer grapples with the difficulties attending the portrayal of terrible passion, I refer to the description of the scene between Gentleman Waife and his brutal, reckless son, Jasper Losely, when the latter, in spite of his "hideous levity," and his inhuman coarseness, is forced to yield to his father's gentleness and forgetfulness of self, and to promise obedience to his commands-"to wrestle against hunger, despair, and thoughts that whisper sinking men with Devils' tongues."

The same vigor and versatility of genius are no less strikingly displayed in the account of the interview between Guy Darrell and Lady Montfort, which occurs at the Old Fawley Manor House, and in which Darrell is represented as giving fearfully passionate expression to the great sorrow of his life.

Another of Bulwer's excellencies as a novelist is, that he always has a clearly-defined, well-laid plot, for whose development all the characters are necessary. It is indeed true, that in "What will he

do with it?" the interest of the reader is sometimes made to flag, by digressions from the main thread of the story, or by the evident exer

tions of the author to keep out of view the intended denouement of the plot; but instances of this sort are by no means rare in others of our best novelists.

Bulwer, unlike Dickens, prefers usually to take his characters from the higher, rather than the lower walks of life. From his living much in the beau monde, and from his habits of close philosophical observation, he has acquired an intimate acquaintance with many forms of social intercourse. It has therefore been said, perhaps truly, that he is never unwilling to put his heroes and heroines in situations in which his own knowledge of society is severely tested. Be this as it may, he is not often haunted by the "ghost of the public," nor does he burn incense at the altars of fashionable society. Royalty itself, portrayed by him, would lose the fair proportions it has assumed under Scott's flattering pen. Bulwer even takes pains to inveigh against the pet ideas and practices of men and women in high life, as may be seen in the shrewd witticisms of the Philosopher-Painter, Vance, the bitter irony of Darrell, and the polished sarcasm of Alban Morley, the Man of the World.

We may think Bulwer's characters overdrawn-that he uses too high colors, but it is to be noticed that all true novelists, like all true poets, are in some sense extravagant. They see wonders, which to the common eye are invisible. Dickens, as he walks the streets of London, discovers, no doubt, among its myriad inhabitants, models for the grotesque creatures with which he peoples his delightful novels. But what more extravagant embodiment of meanness than Uriah Heep? Who so Quixotically kind-hearted as "Joe" in " Pip"iana? The philosophy of common mortals is pitiably narrow-it must needs be broadened by genius.

Of Bulwer's style, "What will he do with it?" affords a felicitous / example. His sentences are full and melodious, overflowing with copiousness of language, and richness of metaphor. His rhetoric is indeed dazzling, and by its brilliancy often distracts attention, both from the sentiment and the plot. His style cannot be said to have the nervous terseness which characterizes Hugo's, and to a good degree Dickens' writings, still it is pleasing, from its very exuberance. He has a discriminating taste, and is an unwearied student; he is therefore enabled to invest his productions with scholarly grace and elegance. He abounds in philosophic reflections, and classical allusions and antithesis. Horace, he makes Darrell say, should be the favorite poet of all who would derive practical advantage from the study of poetry.

But Bulwer's fame does not rest chiefly on his style. He has the