T consciousness, and which the past was engaged in developing. The activity of the human race is controlled by a system of ideas. Each nation, too, has its idea, which constitutes its life and unity, and which holds a determinate place in the general system of ideas which presides over the development of Humanity. We can then act with intelligence in neither the cause of our country, nor in that of mankind, without the sciences, which disclose to us the laws by which the race advances, and which involve the destiny of our own nation. There is a logical sequence in the life of a nation. Grant it a given idea to start with, and you may deduce beforehand its history, with perfect accuracy, providing it meets with no counteracting force, to prevent it from following out its idea to its last results. If its idea be narrow one, one which takes in but a small portion of human nature, it will be short-lived and inglorious. From this fate it can be saved only by speculative thought, a thought which is dependent on no outward circumstances, hemmed in by no bounds of time and space. Philosophy, by disclosing the defectiveness of the reigning idea, and what is needed to supply its deficiency, combining itself with education, passing into text books and professors' lessons, penetrating the hall of legislation, the pulpit, the lyceum, infusing itself into the whole national literature, may gradually enlarge the national idea, bring up from their obscurity other elements of human nature, and finally modify the general character of the nation, give it a higher, a more universal life, and thus prolong its existence, and exalt Lits glory. But I am far from proposing in this place to enter into a defence of metaphysical studies. To these studies the public attention has already been drawn, and everywhere in our midst, men, learned and unlearned, are philosophizing with all their might. There is therefore little for us to do now but to see to it, that their philosophizing tend to some account, to ad vance the cause of truth, and to promote the honor and dignity of their country. The philosophy, by whose results we have long been governed, is now passing away. The dominion of Locke is broken up, and he now has only a few adherents, and they are men of yesterday, who can exert no influence on to-morrow. The tendency is just now to an opposite extreme, to what among us is called Transcendentalism, a system of philosophy, - if that may be called a system, which disclaims all system,— which builds upon an order of facts, proceeding from an origin which transcends the senses and the operations of the understanding. The source of this order of facts is called by some Instinct, by others Spontaneity, and by others still, Inspiration. They are intuitive and immediate. All among us, who are denominated sometimes the New School, contend for the reality of this order of facts, and so far all who have broken with the past are agreed. But there are some individuals, holding a high rank in the movement party, who regard this order of facts as the only order it is necessary to recognise, and with these they think themselves able to construct a philosophy, which shall explain the existence of God, man, and nature. They therefore pay little attention to the senses, hold reasoning or logic in slight esteem, and treat the demand. for proofs of their statements with contempt. With these individuals I do not entirely agree. If I started with them, I could not stop short of exclusive mysticism, and should end in denying the existence of man and the universe. I find also facts in the history of philosophy which I cannot account for on their hypothesis. There can be nothing in the history of philosophy which has not its root in human nature. Now I find, in tracing the history of philosophy, the great systems of sensualism, idealism, and skepticism. If instinct be the only element of human nature, if it be in all men, and always active, as it must be, if it be instinct, and always a teacher of truth, and its own sufficient voucher, I cannot understand how these other systems could ever have originated, or for one moment been entertained. I recognise spontaneity as a source, and a fruitful source of ideas, and I also admit that the ideas, which come to us from this source, do not require to be proved. But I recognise also other orders of facts, not less real, nor less essential in their place than these. In running away from the sensualism of Locke, I would take care not to lose. sight of that portion of reality which his system embraced; and in rejecting logic as an originator of ideas, I would still hold fast to it, as an essential instrument for clearing up our ideas, arranging them in their systematic order, and enabling us to master them. The individuals, to whom I have alluded, have unquestionably a portion of truth, and a portion which for a long time has been denied or neglected, and which is essential to every system of philosophy, that can pretend to do anything like justice to human nature. But, struck with the brilliancy of these facts, their energy, and the enthusiasm they call forth, is it not possible that they have given them an undue prominence, and failed to assign to other facts of human nature, less brilliant, more prosaic, but equally real, the importance they deserve? In politics, this journal will sustain democratic principles and measures. As a necessary consequence of this, it will coöperate with that party which adopts these principles, and supports these measures,- the democratic party. This will be regretted by some, who take a deep interest in the religious, philosophical, and literary character of the Review. They will regret this, on the one hand, because they do not adopt what I term democratic measures, and on the other hand, because they have imbibed the notion, that the man of letters should stand aloof from the political strife of his countrymen. With regard to the first consideration, it is enough to say, that every man is bound by his duty to his God, his race, and his country, to sup port those principles and measures, which he believes to be just and true, without asking whom he may please, or whom he may offend. As it concerns the second consideration, I will only add, it can have no weight with me. Politics is a great subject, one in which every man in this country, if he desire good government, either for himself or for others, should take a deep interest. I have always felt that I belonged to the world, that I was an inhabitant of it; and if I have cultivated letters, if I have devoted some time and thought to abstract speculations, it has been solely for the purpose of gaining the light and the strength, which should fit me for discharging my duty to it. I am told that I ought to confine myself to first principles, to abstract truth, and not descend to controversies about measures, much less about men. All this is very well, and I would readily do so, could I be persuaded that I, and my fellow men, are nothing but abstractions. But I have painful evidence, that I have a body which connects me with the material interests of the world, and I have no doubt that even those of my friends, who delight so much in the ideal and the abstract, have also a certain portion of flesh and blood which need caring for. The true man, the whole man, neglects no interest, overlooks neither body nor soul, but seeks to bring about a reconciliation between spirit and flesh, mind and matter, God. and man. He is not the true scholar who removes himself from the practical concerns of life, and holds communion only with an unreal world; and, I own, I have no respect for the philosophy which dwells forever in the abstract, and never steps forth into the world to reduce its theories to practice. I admit the importance of first principles; few men have shown more attachment to them than I have. I have great faith in them. I wish them always to be resorted to, and always obeyed. But I look into the world as it is; I see contradictory principles set forth, and hostile measures supported. While I am measures -- standing aloof from party strife, while I am studiously avoiding all allusion to what I regard as democratic measures, and am engaged only in dealing forth abstractions, although they shall one day be clothed with life, an anti-democratic party is at work, and securing, it may be, the success of anti-democratic measures which may trammel the whole industry of the country for years to come, and from the deleterious effects of which we shall be able to escape only through rebellion and revolution. Suppose all democrats should do as I am exhorted to do, concern themselves only with first principles, and never seek to carry out those principles by means of appropriate measures, what would be the result? The enemies of the democracy would have the field to themselves, and falsehood would be enthroned, before truth could marshal her forces. Nor can I consent to the notion, which these friends seem to entertain, that politics is a low and debasing subject, or that a scholar necessarily derogates from his dignity, by engaging in the political movements of his countrymen, and doing what he can to sustain what he believes to be true principles, and to secure to his country the practical blessings of them, by supporting measures which will embody them in laws and institutions. Even the great Goethe, the ideal of many of our literary folks, who are shocked at the idea of a scholar's turning politician, did not disdain to be even a placeman. If he could be a politician, an officeholder, to serve a petty Duke, without derogating from the dignity of letters, surely the scholar may do as much here for the purpose of serving the people. Politics is one of the great concerments of the human race. In this country of universal suffrage, every man ought to be a politician. I say not that he should be a politician and nothing else, but that he should be a politician. If he be a politician, he must concern himself with three things, principles, measures, men. Measures are necessary to carry out the principles, and men are necessary to carry out the mea |