I have been desirous of writing to you for nearly a week past, as I
never felt more the want of a personal conversation. I will endeavour,
however, to explain myself to you, and will rely on your confidence and
indulgence for secrecy and attention in what I have to communicate. I
have before told you that the idea of a new Review has been revolving in
my mind for nearly two years, and that more than twelve months ago I
addressed Mr. Canning on the subject. The propriety, if not the
necessity, of establishing a journal upon principles opposite to those
of the _Edinburgh Review_ has occurred to many men more enlightened than
myself; and I believe the same reason has prevented others, as it has
done myself, from attempting it, namely, the immense difficulty of
obtaining talent of sufficient magnitude to render success even
_doubtful_.

By degrees my plan has gradually floated up to this height. But there
exists at least an equal difficulty yet--that peculiar talent in an
editor of rendering our other great resources advantageous to the best
possible degree. This, I think, may be accomplished, but it must be
effected by your arduous assistance, at least for a little time. Our
friend Mr. Gifford, whose writings show him to be both a man of learning
and wit, has lived too little in the world lately to have obtained that
delicacy and tact whereby he can feel at one instant, and habitually,
whatever may gratify public desire and excite public attention and
curiosity. But this you know to be a leading feature in the talents of
Mr. Jeffrey and his friends; and that, without the most happy choice of
subjects, as well as the ability to treat them well--catching the
"manners living as they rise"--the _Edinburgh Review_ could not have
attained the success it has done; and no other Review, however
preponderating in solid merit, will obtain sufficient attention without
them. Entering the field too, as we shall do, against an army commanded