to dwell upon the strange susceptibility of that hard man, Maltravers, of his questionable and philosophical love for Florence Lascelles, and of its awful termination. The sudden and strange attachment of Maltravers to Evelyn, is another of the mysterious circumstances of this Book of Mysteries. And the harrowing suspicion that he was upon the eve of wedding his own daughter is cruelly protracted, although entirely unnecessary, to the full development of the plot, and rather diminish

tency with which she turns so ardently to reciprocate the affections of a youthful soldier, after the oft repeated declaration, that she must look up with reverence to the man she loves, is not the smallest blemish in this tale of fiction. Alice, is at length, after eighteen years of intense suffering, restored to her erring lover, who seems to transfer his affections from Evelyn to Alice, as readily as they had been transferred from Alice to Florence, and from Florence to Evelyn. But our business is with the moral, not with the mechanism of Bulwer. And if it be asked why we so loudly condemn one whom all the world so warmly admires, we reply, in the language of a sound and judicious writer, whose remarks are worthy of serious consideration: "That Mr. Bulwer possesses a talent for composition of the highest order, we have always been willing to admit, nor have we denied that his style, although too inflated and turgid to please our own taste, was well calculated to gratify that of a great portion of his readers. But instead of being a recommendation to us, these endowments, when coupled with the immorality he inculcates, are the very causes of our opposition. It is the attractive and seductive form in which this writer clothes his dangerous sentiments, that imparts to them their mischievous power. Were the morality and philosophy of Mr. Bulwer exposed to view, in their true colors, divested of all adventitious ornament, their own hideousness would be their best corrective; but when they are set forth, arrayed in all the charms of a glowing imagination, and conveyed in a style, the glitter and glory of which fascinate and bewilder the reader, it is then that they become eminently hurtful. Were the stories which he presents to the world descriptive of habits, subversive of all the established notions of society, and setting at defiance institutions civil and religious, which we are

for her entertainment-himself becomes her instructor; | husband, is ridiculously caricatured. We have no time and with a benevolence which would have shamed the philanthropic Howard, he redeems this child of misfortune and ignorance from the horrors of her situation. He watches, with delighted gaze, her blossoming beauties; he beholds with rapture the development of her lovely form; and when she is chastened and purified, and perfect in soul and body; when she had been reared as a lamb for the sacrifice, and a meet victim she was, for she was without stain or blemish, but before she yet knows the iniquity of sin, amidst the luxurious seducing than increasing its interest. And the flat inconsistions of music, poetry, and perfumed pastils, he rifles this virgin casket of all its sweets, and then commences the profligate and reckless career of the gifted libertine, and the long suffering and extraordinary life of his innocently sinning victim. And as if this unnatural and revolting picture were indistinctly sketched, he proceeds with frightful accuracy and particularity of delineation, to paint in vivid colors the loathsome consummation of a crime, which on the part of Maltravers, is dignified with the name of resistless love, and on hers, is excused on the score of invincible ignorance. It seems that in his labored course of instruction, he had failed to teach her either the first lesson of virtue to woman, or the existence of a Supreme Being; her ignorance upon which latter subject had so shocked him at their first meeting, and to remove which, appears to have been the main inducement for her instruction. But these fundamental truths were necessarily omitted in order to attain the melancholy end. We have not the heart to follow Alice in her beggarly wanderings, with her infant in her arms; we will not stop to discuss the propriety or the motive of her quasi marriage with Lord Vargrave, whose extorted vow seems only to have been broken in the wish; we cannot kneel with Alice in her lone and motherless widowhood, by the grave of her infant, cut off in the blossom. And we turn with disgust from the cool and deliberate treachery of Maltravers, who, beneath the roof tree, beside the hearth, in the midst of the hospitality, and in the very presence of the confiding husband, whispers his infernal passion in the ear of Valarie de St. Ventadour. Perhaps the most dangerous passages of this writer, are those which speak with utter contempt of the husband of a pretty woman, whose personal charms attract the attention, or excite the unruly and unbridled passions of his heroes, who endowed with all the graces of refined and culti-taught from our cradles to venerate, written in the vulvated intellect, highborn and wealthy, seem to be absolved from those restraints of the decalogue, which control all but themselves. Even in the sequel, Alice, the labored and chastened apology for its vile forerunner, we are again introduced to Valarie de St. Ventadour, who is still virtuous, still beautiful, still attractive; but Monsieur de St. Ventadour, the husband, "has not altered, except that his nose is longer, and that he now wore a peruque in full curl, instead of his own straight hair; by the mere charm of custom he had grown more pleasing in Valarie's eyes-habit had reconciled her to his foibles, deficiencies and faults." Such are the morals which this deluded writer inculcates in a christian land for the edification-it may be for the imitation-of our wives and daughters. The wife who has been corrupted in her heart and affections, and who has narrowly escaped infamy, is painted in glowing colors; while the confiding and estimable, but unpretending

gar style of many of the authors of the day, they would be harmless, because they would remain unnoticed. When, however, these subjects are presented to the minds of the young and enthusiastic, decked out in the gorgeous trappings of highly cultivated classical taste and exuberant fancy, they seduce the thoughtless and unsuspecting, before the dictates of ripened judgment can advance to the rescue. Before the heedless victim of a false and ruinous philosophy is advertised of his danger, the deadly poison is infused, and the fountains of thought and action are polluted. Strip the narratives of Mr. Bulwer of the splendor of his style and imagery, and nothing will be found but a loathsome desecration of all the observances so vitally connected, in the opinion of every moral being, with the welfare of society. It is for these reasons that we have felt impelled to raise our voice in opposition to works, which, however beautiful, are, in our opinion, eminently mis

man:

"Floruit sine fructu,
Defloruit sine luctu."

chievous. We do not hesitate to say, that the parent | the passions? And who will pretend that the formal who permits his children to become fascinated with the moral, hastily appended to the last ten lines of the ficwild abstractions and ruinous metaphysical sophistries tion, will erase from the susceptible heart the vivid of this writer, has no right to complain of any results, impressions which have been graven with the practised however destructive." In this manly exposition of style of the writer. The passions have all been kindled these corrupting fictions we heartily concur. And into a consuming flame, which some men would fain unless we greatly misconceive the virtues of our coun- persuade us may be subdued by a frigid lesson of formal trymen; unless we appreciate too highly the morals of morality, which seems to be appended only to disgust the age, the period rapidly approaches, when it will be the bewildered reader, or to operate as a salvo for the said of this demoralizing writer, as was said of a better reputation of the author. How many have perished by the way side, who never lived to reach the goal? How many have gone down in the midst of the tempest of the passions, whose frail bark could not, by the aid of the dim light in the far distant haven, survive the perils of the deep? We are aware of the controlling force of public opinion, and of the indomitable, though fleeting sway of literary fame; we well know how many are enchained by the fashionable celebrity of this attrac tive writer; we even anticipate the severity of those strictures which, in the midst of popular delusion, our remarks will necessarily provoke; but if, in the labor we have bestowed upon the effort to create a just standard of morals, we have succeeded in awakening the attention of a single reader to the demoralizing tendency of the fashionable literature of the age, we are well content to bear all the censure, which those invariably encounter, who devote their time and energies to counteract an evil, whose extent is only measured by

He entertained without profit,

He corrupted without remorse.

rule, that IT IS THE FIRST DUTY OF EVERY CHRISTIAN
AND OF EVERY PATRIOT, TO OPPOSE EVERYTHING WHICH
TENDS TO CORRUPT PUBLIC MORALS, OR TO PROMOTE
LICENTIOUSNESS OF OPINION. It is by this sublime
standard, that we have judged the writings of THE
AUTHOR OF FALKLAND AND MALTRAVERS. The ques-
tion which will determine the morality of Bulwer's pro-
ductions is, "CAN GENIUS CONSECRATE CRIME?" Let
a kindred spirit announce his condemnation :
"Not all that heralds rake from coffin'd clay,
Nor florid prose, nor honied lies of rhyme,
Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a crime!"

In the view which we have taken of romances, as entertainments, to be cautiously tolerated, because of the propensity of man for the marvellous-as a salutary escape for his unbridled curiosity-as a remedy or antidote for the greater evil of idleness, and not because of their intrinsic merit, we have been irresistibly led to the conclusion, that no fictions can be safely introduced which offer the “most distant injury to the laws of morality, religion, or sound politics." Wo, we have already exclaimed-wo, if free sway should be given to the drunken imaginations of the wicked! And the facility, we have further insisted, with which romances approach every class of the community, and their winning influits destructive tendency. We still adhere to the stern ence over the heart, while the judgment sleeps, would justify the most rigorous restriction. To unfold to our view, with severe fidelity, the costly lessons of experience, and to keep our mind pure and free from the contamination of the vile passions, are the normal rules of this class of productions. And it is because Mr. Bulwer deliberately violates all these salutary rules; it is because he has given free sway to his impure imaginings; because he proposes for our admiration men of loose principles and profligate morals, and claims our approval of these characters, on account of their eminent talents; it is because the lessons he proposes are not the lessons of true experience, but the perilous illusions of a false philosophy; it is for such convincing reasons, that we feel impelled to class his works with those which were born of the French Revolution, the most obscene crimes of human thought. It is not constancy in virtue, but vaccilating probity which challenges our admiration in the creations of his fancy. He constantly inculcates the false and dangerous theory, that men of exalted genius may throw themselves securely into the whirl of sensual indulgences, and when overtaken by satiety or disgust, quietly and instantly return to the paths of rectitude. He seems content with the dramatic moral, and appears to think that justice is satisfied, and virtue placated, by the ultimate chastisement or reformation of the offender. And this tardy and reluctant retribution appears to him a satisfactory apology, for leading the chaste mind of the reader through all the corrupting purlieus of vice, and for throwing around the most vivid and glowing descriptions of obscene crime all the seductive witchery of his attractive and classical manner. Who can calculate the frightful mischief which is effected by such uncleanliness and immorality, in the delirious progress of the youthful enthusiast through this mystic circle of

Byron.

THE WARRIOR'S WREATH.
The warrior's wreath-its dark green leaves
Are twined around a lofty brow ;-
The laurel crown which Glory weaves,
Adorns her warlike votary now:
His dark eye casts a brighter beam;
Earth trembles at his haughty tread;
His mien and gestures proudly seem
To tell how oft he's fought and bled.
But lo! that laurel bears a stain-

A blood red stain defiles its leaf;
A stain which tells of death and pain;
Of ruin, wo, and human grief;
Of cities razed; of shattered fanes;
Of desolation, rage and wiles;
Of prostrate thrones; of kings in chains-
And yet, behold! the warrior smiles!

DELTA.

Makes yon tall pine blaze up, like some proud city Yet vainly have I waited!--not in vain!

EVERETT'S ADDRESS

AT WILLIAMS COLLEGE.

In August, 1837, Governor EVERETT delivered an address before a Literary Society of Williams College, in Berkshire, the westernmost county of Massachusetts. Were we disposed to heap needless praises, this performance would afford abundant occasion for eulogy. It is in all respects worthy of its author: and to those who know the full import of that assertion, it is tribute enough for almost any man. What induces us now to notice this Address, however, is much less a wish to honor him for this new effort in the cause of human improvement-that noble cause, of which he has long been so illustrious a champion-than a desire to present some inter esting discussions which we find here, of several important questions.

But before we come to those discussions, let us, by way of making the reader enter more vividly into the spirit of the Address, give him some additional idea of its locality.

"The pleasant village where we are assembled,' says Mr. Everett, 'contains, within view of the spot where we stand, the site of Fort Hoosack, and a mile or two east of us stood Fort Massachusetts. The plough has passed over its rude lines; but what scenes of humble heroism and almost forgotten valor are associated with its name! It was the bulwark of the frontier in the days of its infancy. The trembling mother on the banks of the Connecticut,-in the heart of Worcester,clasped her babes closer, at an idle rumor that Fort Massachusetts had given way. A hundred villages reposed in the strength of this stout guardian of New England's Thermopylae, through which, for two generations, the French and Canadian foe strove to burst into the colonies. These are recollections of an earlier day. A few miles to the north of us lies that famous field of Bennington, to which, sixty years ago, this day and this hour, your fathers poured from every village in the neighborhood, at the summons of Stark.'

It is impossible not to be struck with the following impressive display of the importance of edu

cation:

to marshal before us the living nations; and of history to rouse the generations of the elder world from their pompous mausoleums or humble graves to rehearse their fortunes. I might call on natural science to open the volumes in which she has not merely written down the names, the forms, and the qualities of the various subjects of the animal, vegetable, and mineral world now in existence, the vast census, if I may so express it, of the three kingdoms of nature; but where she has also recorded the catalogues of her perished children,races of the animal and vegetable world buried by the deluge beneath the everlasting rocks. Yes, winged lately been discovered imprinted in sand-stone on the creatures twenty feet in height, whose footsteps have banks of Connecticut river; enormous mammoths and mastodons, of which no living type has existed since the flood, brought to light from blocks of Siberian ice or dug up in the morasses of our own continent; petrified skeletons of portentous crocodiles and megatheria seventy feet in length, covered with scales like the armadillo,- and which for ages on ages have been extinct,-have by the creative power of educated mind and gypsum have oped their ponderous and marble jaws, and a host of monstrous forms have risen into day; the recovered monuments of a world of lost giants.'

been made to start out of the solid rock. Sand-stone

be

'But leaving with these transient glances all attempt astonishing results to which it guides the well-trained to magnify the work of education, by pointing out the mind, a much shorter method might be pursued with one who needed to be impressed with its importance. I would take such an one to a place of instruction, to a school, yes, to a child's school,- (for there is no step would say,-in those faint sparks of intelligence, just in the process more important than the first,) and I brightening over the rudiments of learning, you hold the germ of so many rational and immortal spirits. In a few years, you, and I, and all now on the stage shall have passed away, and there on those little when the volume of natural science, and nature with seats, primer in hand, are arranged our successors. Yes, it, shall have vanished;-when the longest periods of when the loud, clear voices of genius, and the multihuman history shall have run together to a point;tudinous tongues of nations, shall alike be hushed forever, those infant children will have ripened into immortal beings, looking back from the mansions of eternity with joy or sorrow, on the direction given to their existence! If there is any one not deeply im their intellectual and moral natures, in the dawn of pressed by this single reflection with the importance of education, he is beyond the reach of anything that can be urged, by way either of illustration or argument.'

It is a prevailing opinion, that an early stage of society, when civilization is but little advan'If I wished to express most forcibly the importance, The philosophical poet, Imlac, in Rasselas, seems ced, is the time of highest poetic excellence. the dignity, and the obligation of the great work of education, I believe it might best be done by taking to espouse this opinion, and gives the reasons our stand at once on the simple enunciation of the spi- for it—namely, that the first poetry of every naritual and immortal nature of the thing to be educated; the mind of man. Then if we wished to give tion gave the bent to public taste, and retained life and distinctness to the ideas of the importance of by consent the credit which it had acquired by education, which result from this contemplation, we might do so by a single glance at the number and accident; and moreover, that the earliest bards importance of the branches of knowledge, to which seized upon the best subjects of description and education furnishes the key. I might allude to the admirable properties of language, which it is the first the most probable events for fiction, leaving to business of education to impart; the wonders of the their successors nothing but transcriptions of the written and spoken tongue as the instrument of thought,--wonders which daily use scarcely divests of same incidents, new namings of the same chatheir almost miraculous character. I might glance at racters, and new combinations of the same imathat which is usually next taught to the unfolding mind, the astonishing power of the science of numbers, ges.* When to these reasonings is added the with which on the one hand we regulate the humblest influence of the venerable saying-'A poet details of domestic economy, and on the other compute born—not made,'—the point seems clear to most the swiftness of the solar beam, and survey, and as it were, stake out from constellation to constellation the minds, that an advanced state of cultivation is great railroad of the heavens, on which the comet comes unfriendly, or at least not at all conducive, to blazing upward from the depths of the universe. I might proceed with the branches of knowledge to which education introduces us, and ask of geography not having Rasselas before us.

is

*We give this account of Imlac's reasoning from memory

the highest effusions of poetry. This opinion, prolific elements of poetical conception. For this reaso discouraging to those who hope highly of son, in the same proportion in which the apparent circuit of the heavens has been enlarged and the science of asman's progress, through the instrumentality of tronomy extended by the telescope, the province of his continued efforts,-this opinion, so mischie-imagination and thought must be immeasurably extended also. The soul becomes great by the habitual contemplation of great objects. As the discovery of a new continent, upon the surface of the globe by Columbus, gave a most powerful impulse to the minds of men in every department, it is impossible that the discovery of worlds and systems of worlds, in the immensity of space, should not wonderfully quicken the well instructed genius. As the ambition, the avarice, the adventure, the legion host of human passions rushed out from the old world upon the new, so the fancy must wing its way, with unwonted boldness, into the new-found universe, Beyond the solar walk or milky way.

Now I cannot but think, that, when the sublime discoveries of modern astronomy shall have become as thoroughly wrought into the vocabulary and the intelligence of the community, as the humble and errone- Of a similar cheering tendency, and pertinent ous conceptions of the ancients, the great and creative minds will derive from them, a vastly grander range of to the same argument, is the following passage, poetical illustration. I cannot but think, that, by the from a different part of the Address. We can study of this one science alone,-thought, speech, and

literature will be wonderfully exalted. It is not in hardly say, whether it is more suited to charm reference to poetry, a mere matter of poetical imagery. by its beauty, or to exalt by the etherial subliThe ideas formed of divine wisdom and power,-of in-mity of the views it presents: finite space,-of stupendous magnitude and force,-of the grandeur and harmony of the material universe,are among the highest materials of thought and the most