ust be equal, if not
superior, to the author of "Faust."

One more specimen of delicate sentiment from the lips of a virgin
concerning the lips of her lover, will fully establish the Syncretic code
of moral taste:--

CZERINA (_faintly_). "Do breathe heat into me:
Lay thy warm breath unto my bloodless lips:
I stagger; I--I must--"

CASTALDO. "In mercy, what?"

CZERINA. "Wed!!!"

The lady ends, most maidenly, by fainting in her lover's arms.

A higher flight is elsewhere taken. _Isabella_ urges _Castaldo_ to murder
_Martinuzzi_, in a sentence that has a powerful effect upon the feelings,
for it makes us shudder as we copy it--it will cause even _our_ readers to
tremble when they see it. The idea of using _blasphemy_ as an instrument
for shocking the minds of an audience, is as original as it is worthy of
the _sort_ of genius Mr. Stephens possesses. Alluding to a poniard,
_Isabella_ says:--

"Sheath it where _God_ and nature prompt your hand!"

That is to say, in the breast of a cardinal!!

The vulgar, who set up the common-place standards of nature, probability,
moral propriety, and respect for such sacred names as they are careful
never to utter, except with reverence, will perhaps condemn Mr. Stephens
(the aforesaid "Editor of the Church of England Quarterly Review," and
author of other religious works) with unmitigated severity. They must not
be too hasty. Mr. Stephens is a genius, and cannot, therefore, be held
accountable for the _meaning_ of his ravings, be they even blasphemous;
more than that he is a Syncretic genius, and his associates, by the
designation they have chosen, by the terms of their agreement, are bound
to cry each other up--to defend one another from the virulent attacks of
common sense and plain reason. They are sworn to _stick_ together, like
the bundle of rods in AEsop's fable.

[Illustration: SYNCRETISM.]

Mr. Stephens, their chief, the god of their idolatry, is, consequently,
more mad, or, according to their creed, a greater genius, than the rest;
and evidently writes passages he would shudder to pen, if he knew the
meaning of them. Upon paper, therefore, the Syncretics are not accountable
beings; and when condemned to the severest penalties of critical law, must
be reprieved on the plea of literary insanity.

It may be said that we have descended to mere detail to illustrate Mr.
Stephens' peculiar genius--that we ought to treat of the grand design, or
plot of t