to this conclusion, since great governments have never fallen but by being first corrupted and undermined by the speculations of ignorant, or fancy-ridden, or designing men. But in relations of their own—above the form politic—as affecting these higher destinies of men, their social, intellectual, spiritual existence, they are of importance never to be estimated. And the aspect of the times reflects on them a yet more grave and serious import. There has been no age of the world in which the physical energies of men have effected so rapid and wonderful achievements—no age in which their intellects have been sharpened to greater acuteness—and no age rifer with all speculative errors, with the falsest principles of taste in art and literature, with subtle delusions affecting the whole foundations of the social system. It becomes thus an age bearing in its bosom mighty and doubtful issues for the future. And this, whether we look to the eastern or the western hemisphere. The institutions of Europe seem rapidly verging to dissolution. Old forms have passed away—old foundations have been broken up. Though the convulsions of a former age, which threw down many dynasties, and thrones, and ancient usages, appear now fully subsided, it is but a deceitful calm. There is yet a power abroad on the surface of society, and a conunotion in its lowest depths, fearfully ominous of some of those great events which change the face of the moral world, and shake it to its centre.
In our own country, likewise, the same restlessness is bearing us hurriedly onward, but we fear to worse ends. The nations of Europe are restless under the burden of oppression; we are restless under the weight of mere duty and custom.
We are a people eager for novelty; we care more for the newness of a thing than for its authority. This is a trait which, while it opens the way to striking physical improvement, has an unfavorable influence upon us in many respects. It affects our morals, since morality can have no sober growth but on a ground of stability and recognised truth. It affects all our philosophy and speculative belief, since old opinions, however well considered and just, are readily abandoned for new ones. It affects all regular formation of national custom and character, because we suffer our tastes and habits to be continually changing. It especially affects, what must have all these for a partial foundation—the growth of our national literature. For if tastes may change and customs be laid aside with the hour, and opinions be held no longer than they are able to excite, and faith be considered a matter of ch.oice, it is obvious that our literature must be forever unsubstantial and fugitive. It can have no dignity, because no consistency—little beauty as a whole, because little harmony of the parts—no great body of impression, from the want of uniformity among its effective elements.
Our literature has never been sufficiently earnest. It has been too much the product of light moments, of impulsive efforts, of vacation from other and engrossing employments. There have been many graceful and pleasing productions, and some exhibiting a degree of power that justifies the highest hopes of what might be; but few great designs, long considered and carefully planned out, have been entered upon with that serious and stern determination with which Milton commenced a work "which posterity should not willingly let die." But surely, if literature has, what we know it has ever had, a forming iniluerice on the minds of those who form and rule the minds of the multitude, it is not a light thing, a thing to be played with at languid intervals as one of life's ornaments, but a matter to be borne in hand with earnest and fixed resolves. We are speaking here of original works among us; but what shall we say of the criticism of the times! We confess to an almost total distrust of its judgments. Never exhibitmg great independence or power of discerning, it has grown of late even more slavish, weak, and meaning less. Foreign productions sent over, ticketed and labelled, receive an imprimatur accordingly; the writings of our own countrymen, deserving of cordial and ready praise, must often wait for the dicta of foreign judges; and a sea of trash seems rapidly swallowing up the delicate perceptions, and calm thought, both of critics and people.
For these reasons also, in addition to those of a political nature, has it been determined, "quod bonum, felix, faustumque sit," to establish a national Review. Adding only, that all sectarian discussions and all sectional controversies will be avoided, so that the work may be of equal acceptability in every part of the country, we ask for it a support according to the character it shall be found to bear.
