Night and Morning frames a novelist’s moral responsibility: fiction should probe ethical complexity and enlarge public conscience by exposing social wrongs—most centrally the inequities of law and class. Bulwer-Lytton stages two moral climates (night and morning) in which private circumstances, not seasons, govern felicity; he interrogates whether gratitude, pride or charity can justify complicity, and whether public law serves justice or entrenches hypocrisy.

The action begins in a remote Welsh parish with the secret marriage of Catherine Morton to Philip Beaufort, solemnised by the easygoing parson Caleb Price. Caleb’s later poverty and the loss of pages from the parish register make proof of that marriage precarious. Philip Beaufort’s death and the succession of his uncle’s estate trigger the central injustice: Robert Beaufort, the uncle’s brother, denies Catherine’s claim, offers meagre maintenance, and forces the dispersal of her two sons. The elder, Philip, is cast into precarious labour and eventually drifts abroad; the younger, Sidney, is separated and raised under other names.

Parallel episodes in Paris develop a social satire-cum-moral study. William Gawtrey (“Monsieur Love”) runs a fashionable marriage-bureau that conceals a history of imposture and crime—he presides over social mixers, a fragile child ward Fanny, and ultimately a coinage gang. Philip, reduced to destitution, accepts Gawtrey’s shelter; exposed to Gawtrey’s criminality, he is torn between gratitude and moral revulsion. A police ambush led by Monsieur Favart culminates in violence and Gawtrey’s violent flight and death. Eugenie de Merville, a benevolent widow, rescues Philip, sheltering and educating him; she initiates his redemptive arc. Fanny and the blind old Simon Gawtrey become additional moral claims that bind protagonists.

Ten years later the narrative returns to England. Philip reappears as Monsieur de Vaudemont, pursuing redress and his claim to Beaufort Court on the basis of an examined copy of the register and a surviving witness, William Smith; complications arise from vacillating allies (Captain Smith/Jeremiah), venal lawyers (Blackwell), and Lord Lilburne’s cynical intrigues—Lilburne even abducts Fanny to possess her. Romantic entanglements converge: Camilla Beaufort loves Charles Spencer, who proves to be Sidney Morton; Arthur Beaufort’s fatal illness and death reshuffle inheritances and motives.

Legal maneuvering and personal rescue intertwine. Philip recovers the critical paper, rescues Fanny, and secures testimony; corrupt attempts to suborn witnesses fail. The ejectment suit confirms Philip’s claim; Robert Beaufort, chastened, reconciles with his nephew. Marriages resolve private plots: Sidney/Spencer weds Camilla; Philip marries Fanny after illness and reflection. Villains suffer private penalties more than spectacular public vengeance—Lilburne escapes legal ruin but faces isolation.

The novel urges pity for individuals while indicting legal formalism and class hypocrisy. Its moral energy lies in documenting how accidents, institutions and private malice determine destinies, and in asserting that truth, measured justice and constancy can produce modest redemption.