epic rather than lyrical. How would it sound, either for rhyme or reason,

"On the shores of Mississippi,

When the sweet spring-time did fall!"

The idea suggested is too vast. There is no snug endearing locality about such scenes; and as for "the sweet spring time,” it never “falls” on a great proportion of the shores of rivers whose waters rise far towards the regions of eternal winter, and roll through every variety of climate, to those of everlasting summer; while the smaller streams, which correspond in size to the "Nith," the "Dee" or "Bonnie Doon," are ruined by the general appellation of "crik" (creek), which is bestowed upon them; and to which some such euphonious title as Big Elk, Buffalo, or Otter, is usually prefixed. Besides, America is not rich in recollections of the past. No castles, grim, hoary and dilapidated, frown upon her heights: no gorgeous abbeys moulder in her verdant vales. The joys, and sorrows, and sufferings of humanity are, as yet, scarcely impressed upon her soil. She has no records of feudal strife, of faded greatness, and fond affection -of all tradition loves, and song delights in. Hope must, in some degree, be to her poets what memory is to those of older lands. But the mind of

the song-writer is reminiscent-not anticipative; and therefore it is, that with whatever species of fame and greatness America may enrich her brows, it is probable she will never, in one sense, be "worth an old song."

MORALITY-HORSE RACING.

THERE is a kind of people who, instead of finding

Sermons in stones, and good in every thing,"

are gifted by nature with a peculiar quickness in perceiving and detecting vice and wickedness in every variety of form and complexion. They have an aptitude in raking and scraping together all the bad which is generally mixed up with worldly pursuits and amusements, and of overlooking whatever of good may be mingled therewith. Whether this intimate acquaintance with evil habits and feelings this familiarity with the obliquities of human nature, is to be accounted for upon the principle embodied in the shrewd proverb of "set a thief to catch a thief," ought to be left to people more charitable in their constructions than themselves, or the verdict would not be at all flattering. The worst of the matter is, they claim this sharp

perception of the vile and vicious as a sort of merit, and account it pure stern morality harshly to censure what they dislike in the conduct of others. They take a one-sided view of all things, try them according to their own standard of propriety, and so decide that they are altogether right or altogether wrong: they cannot bring themselves to see that "the web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together," that "our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our virtues." This is rather too reasonable and philosophical a view of the question for them, and in reason and philosophy they profess to place but little faith. These infallible personages have seen or heard that there are such things as foolishness and frivolity in ball rooms, and therefore, without taking into account the innocent mirth and harmless gaiety which there predominate, they set down balls as very foolish and frivolous affairs; they have seen or heard that there are specks of immorality and dissoluteness to be met with in a theatre, and therefore set down a theatre as a concentration of all that is dissolute and immoral; they have seen or heard that blacklegs, vagabonds, sharpers, &c. attend race courses, and therefore set down all that go as blacklegs, vagabonds, or sharpers. They are

great generalizers, and account a man who stands and looks at one full-blooded horse running against another as a species of monster, incapable of discharging the moral and social duties of society.

There has always been a particularly large quantity of cant abroad on the subject of morality; and the foundation of it appears to be laid in an erroneous belief of the extreme susceptibility of human nature to impressions of either good or evil. Men's morals, like their constitutions, are more permanent and durable than is frequently imagined, and neither so easily destroyed or mended as mental or medical hypochondriacs would have us believe. A man beholds a discreditable action or hears a questionable speech, and is no worse for it; or he sees a virtuous action and listens to a lecture containing the most excellent advice, and is no better for it. This is the case ninety-nine times out of a hundred; and it takes a long familiarity with either good or evil to make a permanent impression on one with any pretensions to stability of character. Nothing can be more childish than to hear the advocates or opponents of the stage, for instance, endeavor to settle its general tendency by picking out little speeches and sentences either for or against morality; and the mistakes to which this habit of looking at details and neglecting the sum total have