The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1899-1900, 1899-08-23


in the organ loft and squall tune that
nobody knows, and worshipers, with
$4,000 worth of diamonds on the right
hand, drop cent into the poor box, and
then the benediction is pronounced,
and the farce is ended. The toughest
thing ever tried to do was to be good
at watering place. The air is be-
witched with the "world, the flesh and
the devil" There are Christians who,
in three or four weeks in such place,
have had such terrible rents made in
their Christian robe that they had to
keep darning it until Christmas to get
it mended.
The health of great many people
makes un annual visit to some mineral
spring an absolute necessity, but take
your Bible along with you, and take an
hour for secret prayer every day,
though you be surrounded by guffaw
and saturnalia. Keep holy the Sab
bath, though they deride you as big
oted Puritan. Stand off from gambling
hells and those other institutions which
propose to initiate on this side the wa
ter the iniquities of Baden-Baden. Let
your moral and your immoral health
keep pace with your physical recupera-
ton, and remember that all the sui
phur and chalybeate springs cannot do
you so much good as the healing,
| perennial flood that breaks forth from
the ''Rock of Ages" This may be your
last summer. If so, make it fit vesti-
bule of Heaven.
Another temptation lowering around
nearly all our watering places is the
horse racing business. We all admire
the horse, but we do not think that its
beauty or speed ought to be cultured at
the expense of human degradation. The
horse race is not of such Importance as
the human race. The Bible intimates
that man is better than a sheep, and
suppose he is better than horse,
though. like Jobs stallion, his neck
be clothed with thunder Horse races
in olden times were under the ban of
Christian people, and in our day the
same institution has come up under tic-
titious names. And it is called a sum
mer meeting" almost suggestive Of
positive religious exercises. And it is
called an agricultural fair" suggest
i've of everything that is improving in
the art of farming, but under these de-
ceptive titles are the same cheating,
and the same betting, and the same
drunkenness, and the same vagabond-
age, and the same abomination that
were to be found under the old horse
racing system.
never knew a man yet who could
give himself to the pleasures of the turf
for a long reach of time and not be bat
tered in morals. They hook up their
spanking team and put on their sport
ing cap and light their cigaf and take
the reins and dash down on the road
to perdition! The great day at Sara
toga and Brighton Beach and Cape May
and nearly all the other watering places
is the day of the races. The hotels are
thronged, every kind of equipage is
taken up at an almost fabulous price,
and there are many respectable people
mingling with jockeys and gamblers
and libertines and foul-mouthed men
and flashy women. The bartender stirs
up the brandy smash. The bets run
high. The greenhorns, supposing all
is fair, put in their money soon enough
to lose it. Three weeks before the
race takes place the struggle is decided,
and the men in the secret know on
which steed to bet their money. The
men on the horses riding around long
ago arranged who shall win. Leaning
from the stand or from the carriages
are men and women so absorbed in the
struggle of bone and muscle and mettle
that they make grand harvest for the
pickpockets, who carry off the pocket
books and the portemonnaies. Men
looking on see only string of horses
with their riders flying around the
ring. But there is many man on that
stand whose honor and domestic hap
piness and fortune-white name, white
foot, white flank-are in the ring,
racing with inebriety and with fraud
and with profanity and with ruin
black neck, black foot, black flank.
Neck and neck go the horses in that
moral Epson. White horse of honor;
black horse of ruin. Death says: 81
will bet on the black horse" Spec
tator says: 81 will bet on the white
horse" The white horse of honor a
little way ahead. The black horse of
ruin, Satan mounted, all the time gain
ing on him. Spectator breathless,
They put on the lash, dig in the spurs.
There! They are past the stand. Sure.
Just as expected. The black horse Of
ruin has won the race, and all the gal.
leries of darkness "huzza! huzza!" and
the devils come in to pick up their
wagers. All, my friends, have nothing
to do with horse racing dissipations
this summer.
Another temptation lowering around
the watering place is the formation OF
hasty and lifelong alliances. The wa
tering places are responsible for more
of the domestic infelcities of the coun-
try than nearly all other things COM
bined. Society is so artificial there tina,
no sure judgment of character can be
formed. They who form companion
ships amid such circumstances go into
lottery where there are 20 blanks to
one prize. In the severe tug of life you
want more than glitter and splash. Life