and that while the inspired writers ascribe such an influence to divine truth in the salvation of men, they mean to ascribe a still higher influence to the Spirit of God. And this we find to be actually the case. "I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the increase." From this, and many other passages of Scripture, it appears, not only that God exercises an influence superiour to the mere influence of divine truth, but that all the influence which the truth has, is owing to his special agency in the souls of men. The truth becomes effectual through the power of the Holy Ghost. It is all the work of God. So that the greater the efficacy of divine truth, the more conspicuous is that divine power from which it is derived.

Nothing can be more manifest than that God's working in this way contributes directly to his glory. Suppose sinners converted without the influence of divine truth. They would then be converted without any knowledge of God, or of his law, or of any other spiritual object for such knowledge is the knowledge of divine truth. Now if any effects which are produced in the minds of men should take place without knowledge, and so without the influence of truth, they would take place as in the dark; and God could not be glorified, because he would not be known; would not be known by converted sinners, any more than by the trees of the forest. But if God operates in the moral world by means of the truth, his perfections are manifested, and he becomes the object of adoring love and everlasting praise. When he operates thus, he operates in clear noon-day light, so that his hand is seen, and his name exalted and glorified. The very truth which awakens and sanctifies, is the truth which reveals his character. Why then should it ever be imagined, that the dependent influence which we attribute to divine truth, as a means of sanctification, will obscure the lustre of God's glory, when it is the clear light of truth kindled up in the moral world, and especially in the souls of men, which makes his glory to be seen and his agency to be acknowledged and felt?

Followers of Christ! behold the immense value of the sacred volume, arising from the vast amount of good which it accomplishes; and render unceasing thanks to God for so precious a gift. Do you not feel gratitude to God for the rising sun, and the pleasant light of day? But your eyes have been opened to see a more excellent light, even the light

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 arti-cle, 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