of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. And will you not bless God for that precious volume, the Sun of the moral world, which has shed this glorious transforming light upon your souls? You thank God for your daily bread, but his holy word supplies spiritual food, "the bread from heaven, which if a man eats he shall live for ever." You thank God for bodily health, and for the means of preserving it, and when lost, of restoring it. . But you owe him warmer gratitude for the gift of his word, which is the means of healing the diseases of the mind, and imparting spiritual health and vigour. Consider what the volume of inspiration has done for you. You may remember the time when you were regardless of your eternal interests, and in a state of moral slumber. From that fatal slumber the word of God roused you. Once you were enemies to God by wicked works. But the divine word, accompanied by the special agency of the Spirit, has slain your enmity, and kindled holy love. Once you were in servitude to sin, and exposed to its dreadful consequences. But the power of the Gospel has freed you from that cruel servitude, and brought you into the liberty of the sons of God. You may call to remembrance seasons of darkness, struggles, fears and sorrows. And do you not remember, too, how many times the word of God has enlightened your minds, dissipated your sorrows and fears, strengthened you, and given you peace? When you have been in a lukewarm and backsliding state, has not the word of God been the effectual means of reclaiming you, and rekindling your zeal? What spiritual maladies has it healed? How has it been a lamp to your feet, and a light to your path! What comfort has it afforded you in affliction! With what power has it prompted you to live to God, and to labour and suffer for the interests of his kingdom! Call to mind all the spiritual blessings you have enjoyed,--your deliverances from danger,-your seasons of repentance, and love, and communion with God,-your pious and successful labours,-your victories over sin, and your hopes of heaven. Call these to mind, and learn the efficacy and value of God's holy word, and the reasons you have to bless God for such a gift.

But while it is true that the word of God has mingled its healing, purifying, comforting influence with your past experience, and been the means of securing to you so many spiritual blessings; it is also true, that it must continue to

have the same influence, and must have it in an increasing degree. There is, you well know, a great work of sanctification still to be accomplished. And your heavenly Advocate prays, that this may be accomplished by means of the divine word. "Sanctify them through thy truth; thy word is truth." You may still have many a dark and dreary place to pass through, many difficulties, distresses and dangers to encounter, before you arrive at your final home. It is this same divine word which must afford you the assistance which you need. You would faint by the way, were it not that God's word will strengthen and comfort you. Look then at what remains to be done before you can receive the unfading crown, and learn how precious is that word of God, by means of which it is all to be accomplished, and what everlasting thanks you owe to God for such a blessing. Look also at the immense work of grace which remains to be done for the conversion of the world. What darkness must be dissipated! From what errours and sins must the earth be purged! What hearts of stone must be turned to flesh! Oh! what a work it must be to renovate such a world as this, and to fill it with the fruits of holiness, and the joys of salvation! This difficult and glorious work the Spirit of God will accomplish through the instrumentality of his holy word. It will all be the work of God; but his power, guided by unerring wisdom, will operate in this manner. In the progress of his merciful administration, he will give his word a more efficacious and extensive influence than ever before, and so will make its value more clearly to be seen. It is now apparent, and will be more and more apparent, that the value of the word of God surpasses that of all earthly possessions. As far as the heavens are above the earth, so far does the Bible exceed in preciousness every worldly good; and it ought to be received with higher gratitude, and with gladness of heart more pure and rapturous. Better forget to thank God for food, and health, and the light of day, and even existence, than for the sacred volume. May God send out his light and truth. May all the nations of the earth soon receive his life-giving word, and experience its saving efficacy, and so may they be prepared to unite in one chorus of praise to the God of love, who has bestowed such a gift, and whose sovereign and gracious influence invests it with such power to illuminate, and purify, and comfort the souls of men.

ART. V. REVIEW OF THE WRITINGS OF BULWER.

By EDWARD S. GOULD, New-York.

IN former days, penury and neglect, with their long train of woes, were so uniformly associated with genius, (in the higher walks of poetry and prose,) that they came, at last, to be reckoned as identical, and want was considered as almost essential to literary greatness. Certainly, the case was a hard one; but, as all misfortunes are qualified by some beneficial effect, this state of things proved a most wholesome check to the uninspired; and preserved society from a deluge of nonsense.

The nineteenth century is remarkable (among other things) for having produced a mighty change in this matter. Now, genius no longer languishes in obscurity and want, through a weary existence, to be rewarded hereafter by what, in popular phrase, is termed immortality. Literary aspirants, now, without much dependence on their sterling merit, reap their own honours with their own hands; gather their own profits into their own garners; and enjoy, during their lifetime, a full earnest of that fame which may (or may not) be hereafter identified with their labours. The critic looks upon this astounding reverse in deep concern and apprehension. He sees with alarm that the Temple of Fame is suddenly, and by popular tolerance, crowded and desecrated by an indiscriminate multitude who were made by "nature's journeymen," and inspired by some very earthly essence. He sees, not that reputation is a bubble, but that it is coming to be regarded as a bubble, by all who have a just claim to its immunities. And he arrives at the conclusion, that genius had much better suffer, as of old, with quackery, than that quackery should be rewarded with genius. For experience has shown that adversity will depress the one, and will not depress the other. It has shown that genius will flourish despite all discouragement; will struggle on, inspired by her own irrepressible fires; and, sooner or later, secure her appropriate station among the illustrious of the world: while any inferiour spirit will shrink before constant, disheartening trial, and turn quietly to its native insignificance, rather than peril every thing on the doubtful hazard of gaining every thing. But now, when these obstacles are, by some

unpropitious magic, set aside; when preferment and honour are not merely open to all, but are literally, and with little discrimination, bestowed upon all; there is great danger that true genius, capable and willing to contend with kindred genius, and desirous to win honours so long as honours are exclusive, will scorn the contest, and hold the prize unworthy of the race. But the critic, after indulging these gloomy anticipations, and mourning over this appalling luxuriance of tares and wheat intermingled, will yet find some consolation. He will discover that there are some who have deservedly reaped profit and distinction; and who are really entitled to have done so, by the splendour of their intellect, and the gigantic efforts of their genius.

Of such, SCOTT, BYRON, and BULWER, are eminently conspicuous. These great men, unrivalled (in their several departments of fiction) by any cotemporary of any nation, have drawn at pleasure on that heterogeneous fund of rewards, which had not hitherto been considered as due until after the death of the drawer; and, instead of trusting to the doubtful faith of such heirs and executors as posterity, they have been themselves the inheritors of their own bequests. Probably the like success which some others have attained while living, will exonerate posterity from paying any marked tribute to their genius. They have had quite as much as they deserved already; and it is to be hoped that, in sundry instances, the debt is cancelled for ever. But, in a merely literary point of view, (and the reader will please to understand that, for the present, these remarks have exclusive reference to that point,) the debt to the three authors specified-and a few others might be included, as (in comparison) "lesser lights," can never be cancelled so long as the language in which they wrote shall have an existence. They will, coeval with that language, continue to shine as bright ornaments in the polite literature of the civilized world.

The individual whose name is at the head of this article, the last surviving and not the least eminent of this illustrious trio, entered the field under less favourable circumstances than either of his predecessors. The ground was more fully occupied, and public interest more absorbed or divided than, perhaps, at any previous period: consequently, he had much more to contend with than they, in pursuing popularity; and much more to overcome in acquiring

an enviable reputation. Yet the sensation produced by PELHAM was not less creditable to the talents of its writer, nor less auspicious for his literary fame, than were CHILDE HAROLD and WAVERLY to their respective authors.

Before proceeding with these remarks, we stop to repeat that what has already been said, and what immediately follows, refer exclusively to the point of literary excellence; the moral tendency of Bulwer's writings we consider decidedly bad, and shall attempt to prove it so: but, in the mean time, we wish to give him his due on the score of his intellectual qualities, although that due be high praise. If the reader will bear in mind this local distinction, we shall hope to escape the appearance of speaking too well of a man, whom all moral considerations require us to condemn.

One ground of Bulwer's great success is, undoubtedly, his striking originality. His mind, as well as his genius, is unique; and, without effort, he writes as no man ever wrote before. So peculiar are his powers, and so aristocratic is his taste, he is at once unequal and superiour to imitation. While Scott is original from choice, Bulwer is so from necessity. On this point, we consider the writings of these two authors as nearly of equal merit. In strength of language, in depth of pathos, in ingenuity of plot, and in lightning-like rapidity of incident, we also consider them equal. In delineation of character, Bulwer falls short of his peerless rival; failing, generally, to give that wonderfully distinct identity of person (whether hero or subordinate) in which the author of Waverley never was equalled. This, however, is owing partly to Bulwer's comparative deficiency in power, and partly to his misapplication of that power. Many of his characters, like the works they embellish, are fictitious; they are drawn from imagination, and not from life and it is obvious that by so much as they fall short of Scott's unerring model, Dame Nature, they require additional skill in management, and come, after all, to a less successful result. A familiar illustration of this fault may be found in some portraits that we have seen the painter became so ambitious to excel his brethren in fineness and polish, that he brought his pictures to look like veritable ivory, forgetting that flesh, and not ivory, was his model. Bulwer is also inferiour to Scott in style: there is a native, inherent dignity in the composition of Scott, from which apparently, he never could descend; and to which Bulwer rarely attains.