mercy towards some of the noblest and most useful of the irrational creatures? Are they promotive of the best interests of the hman race? Do they accord with the principles of sound morality? Do they, above all, harmonize with the dictates and requirements of Christianity? No, my friend-no! Such pleasures oppose all that is dear to the virtuous, the humane, and the excellent of the earth! You have told me of your pleasures on Epsom race-course. Were I to go there, I should speak of my miseries. Indeed, I should be perfectly wretched. I grant you-for I have, in former years, visited the race-ground-I grant you that, externally, there is much that is imposing, brilliant, and exciting. I grant you, that to a person with tastes and views like yours, few spectacles can be more splendid and spirit-stirring than those witnessed at Epsom, or Doncaster, on a Derby or a St. Leger day; still, they are not scenes with which I am anxious to be familiar; and, certainly, I am not desirous that the noble, the beautiful, the accomplished, and the youthful of our race, should be conversant with them. I am persuaded that they are undesirable most undesirable ;-that they are improper-most improper;-that they are pernicious-most pernicious;—in a word, that, morally and in a Christian sense, they are destructive-most destructive!

"I object, most decidedly object, to the race-course, in respect of the noble animals themselves which run. It is granted, that they have been long and early trained to run; but what have not many of them endured before they attained their present eminence on the raceground? It is readily allowed that many of them are perfect specimens of symmetry, elegance, and beauty; why, then, suffer them to be injured, or to be treated as we have known many of them to be, with reckless and wanton cruelty? It is often said, that the racehorse does not suffer at all on the course. Is this a fact? Is it not palpably a falsehood? I have seen the noblest and finest animals coming in with their sides and flanks

VOL. XXV.

streaming with blood; while it has been apparent, from the distended nostril, from the tension of every muscle, from the veins almost ready to burst, from the tremendous effort made, and the utter exhaustion experienced, that a little, and, in many instances, a very little more exertion would have been sufficient to occasion death. Horse-racing, George, say what you please, is cruel, most cruel; and on this ground I object to it.

"I am opposed also to races in consequence of the evils which are inseparably connected with them. I say inseparably connected, and not merely occasional or incidental. Evils which I am persuaded are growing, glaring, prodigious. Look at the expense which is incurred by those who regularly attend the race-course,and thousands do this; or by those who are connected, in a sporting and pecuniary sense, with various races, what sums of money are squandered, and worse than thrown away! The Derby stakes require every subscriber to pay 50 sovereigns, and often there are 180 subscribers. The sum therefore contested for is nine thou

sand pounds. This immense sum, in my opinion, is foolishly and criminally applied. Besides, think of the tens of thousands squandered in one day at Epsom. Is this no evil?

"Observe the loss of valuable time which is sustained. You may not deem it so, George; but I do. Home leftthe shop neglected-business deserted— and for what purpose? Is this no evil?

"Mark the gambling which is practised on the race-course. This is identified with it, and you cannot prevent it. With any modification, it would be maintained. At present the gambling transactions are fearful. Is this no evil?

"Dwell on the drunkenness and dissipation of the race-course. Races and intemperance-races and dissipation-are inseparable. I have seen more drunkenness at races and fairs, George, than at any other places of public resort. Encourage races, and you encourage the curse, the pest of Britain,-intemperance. "The prostitution attendant on the race

2 E

course is proverbial. Scenes of impurity are associated with all races, and espe cially with races of the greatest notoriety, of so foul and awful a character, that the mind of a chaste and virtuous person can scarcely recur to them at all.

"Besides, on the race-ground what a harvest do thieves and pick-pockets reap! The Derby, or the St. Leger day, is their gala day. Probably millions of pounds have been stolen, during a succession of years, on the race-course. Is this no evil?

"Moreover, George, I must tell you plainly the tendency of the race-course is bad, radically bad, arrange it as you please; modify it as you please; purify it as you please; still it must do harm, and serious harm. It must injure the mind and vitiate the character. A love of dress-a love of drink-a love of gambling-a love of dissipation—a love of sin has been acquired on the racecourse-which has at once beggared and ruined both the body and the soul. I have known many, George, who have commenced a course of iniquity by frequenting the race-ground. The evil, I am persuaded, is most serious in its influence on servants, apprentices, and young men. I see, George, everything in races, under any modifications, to induce me to keep away, and I hope I always shall. Do not ask me, therefore, to visit Epsom. I wish I could prevail on you to stop away."

"That you never will, my friend, after all your tirade against the race-course. I know you mean well; but I see you have turned Methodist, and, therefore, I have no hope of convincing you." Besides," taking out his watch, "it is getting late, and I would not be behind for a good deal of money. Farewell, William; and I suppose I must not ask you to go to Epsom again. We shall have a merry day!" and away he dashed out of the apartment as hastily as he had entered.

Sad to relate, this gay and dissipated young man, full of life and spirits, on returning from the race-course in the

evening, was thrown from the box of the carriage on which he had been seated, by a collision of vehicles, near Kennington Cross. A concussion of the brain was the result, which involved him in great danger for some period; and it is believed that he can never perfectly recover. When William heard of the accident he thanked God that his principles had kept him from the Epsom races.

And now, dear readers, we hope you are not fond of the race-course; indeed, we hope you are determinately opposed to it. Races are among the most undesirable, expensive, pernicious, and destructive pleasures of the nation, ruining thousands of souls annually.

Parents, we beseech you, with intense fervour, keep your children from the racecourse. Let them go to it, and they may be undone for ever.

Young men, young women, throughout England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales, abstain from visiting the race-ground. We conjure you, as you value your character, your happiness, your respectability, your safety, to keep always away.

You

Professors of religion, you dare not, you cannot, visit the race-course. would not be seen at Epsom, Doncaster, Ascot, or Goodwood, would you, on a race day? Impossible, if you have any principle of Christianity at all; anything of the fear of God at all; under the influence of the love of Christ at all! And yet the admonition may be necessary to some even among professors, "Go not near the race-ground."

How mournful to dwell on the multitudes that visited Epsom on the Derbyday, on Wednesday, May 19th, 1847. From eight o'clock in the morning until half-past two in the afternoon, twenty-four trains, of immense length, with nearly one hundred thousand passengers, left the terminus at London-bridge for Epsom. The crowd was so great, during a great portion of the time, that many persons were severely injured. One man was forced, by the pressure of the mob, over the balustrade of the arch where the second and third-class passengers were

concealed under mysterious symbols and imagery, the sacred writings are so written as to be easily understood by those to whom they are addressed. Moses wrote under the Divine inspiration and direction, for the information and instruction of his countrymen, in the vernacular idiom. There is no doubt that he meant to be understood, and that he was understood. The book of Job was an intelligible book to the readers of his age. All the sacred historians evidently wrote on the same principles, and were, at least, as well understood by their countrymen, as the historians of other nations are by their countrymen. The Psalms, and the devotional parts of the Bible, generally, were intended, like all devotional books, for popular use and edification; and furnished to the devotional heart apt, natural, and beautiful expressions.

Those predictions which related to events near at hand, such as the prediction delivered to Hezekiah respecting his death, and the predictions of Jeremiah concerning the captivity, were delivered in plain and direct language. The same is true of the New Testament. The discourses of Christ were at first delivered openly to the people and to his disciples, plainly with the intent to instruct them. And it cannot be questioned that all who heard him with a right spirit, like Mary sitting at his fect, were instructed. There was no man that ever spoke like this man, whether we consider the wisdom or the plainness, the sincerity or the authority with which he spoke. It is true, indeed, that he sometimes spake in parables which seemed to require an explanation. But that nothing was intended to be concealed is evident from the fact that the explanation was given to the disciples as soon as requested by them, and now stands upon the pages of the gospel, a perpetual record. Nor is there any reason for believing that it would not with equal readiness have been afforded to any other sincere inquirers from among the multitude. Christ did not choose to cast his instructions like pearls

before swine; but put them often in a form which was calculated to test the sincerity and earnestness of his auditors: if they sought for the explanation, they obtained it; and then, when it was obtained, the truth appeared the more vivid under this form of representation. When Christ preached on the hills, in the plains, and in the streets of Judea, none could fail to know and comprehend, who would attentively and candidly hear, earnestly inquire, and devoutly meditate; and so at the present time, none can fail to know and comprehend these simple, weighty, and beautiful discourses, who read them earnestly and thoroughly, and with an humble and childlike spirit.

The discourses of the apostles, as recorded in the book of the Acts, are of the same simple, direct, and earnest character. It is plain that they meant to give instruction; that they meant, if possible, to satisfy the understanding of their hearers. Hence, when they address their countrymen, the Jews, they borrow illustrations and authorities from the Old Testament; and when they address the Greeks, they quote admired passages from their own poets. The apostolical epistles were addressed to the churches, and undeniably from the whole style and manner, and from the general character of the salutations with which they open, as well as from express charges to this effect, were intended to be read openly for the instruction of all the members. It does not appear from any thing contained in these epistles, that any system of philosophy, or deep erudition of any kind, was necessary in order to understand and profit by them; addressed to the people, they seem honestly intended for the instruction of the people. Indeed, the chief writer of these epistles, although himself a man of learning, is very explicit in representing their "calling" as not effected through the wisdom or eloquence of this world. It was instruction given in simplicity and faithfulness to the ordinary human mind; it was instruction designed not particularly for the select classes,—the noble,

the wise, the philosophical; but for the masses, and for the select classes, only as merged in the masses. Throughout the whole course of this Divine instruction, from the preaching of Christ onwards, it was a gospel preached to the poor; it was, like the light of the sun and the ambient atmosphere, a universal gift, for there was a universal want. There is, however, one aid announced, an essential and indispensable aid to the right understanding and reception of the Divine gift, and that is, the Divine Spirit himself in his illuminating and regenerating power; but it is an aid held out freely and sincerely to all, as freely as our daily bread, and as sincerely as the proffer of this bread made by the parental hand.

The Bible is, therefore, as we have said, the voice of our Father in heaven speaking to us his ignorant and sinful children, and speaking in the most apt way to meet our condition, and to bring us back to himself. The prodigal son understood the voice of his father when he received him and forgave him, and rejoiced that the lost one was found again; and cannot we understand the heavenly voice? He who made the human mind must perfectly comprehend all its capacities, and be able to trace and estimate its nicest movements! He who gave the power of language, must be capable of using language with the utmost skill and effect, for all the ends of language, for teaching and persuading. The Bible, therefore, is to be received as the best book, not only in respect to the facts and doctrines which it contains, but also in respect to the style of its composition, as designed to set forth clearly and fully these facts and doctrines.

One thing is not to be forgotten here, and that is, that the Bible, while written so as to be intelligible to those to whom it was first addressed, is written, also, so as to be intelligible to men of all ages and nations. This is, indeed, the cha

simple and massive as the pyramids, are even more enduring, because founded on universal principles and addressed to the common mind and heart of man. But a just and impartial criticism must award this merit, in a supereminent degree, to the sacred writings. Even in that most remote patriarchal age we feel at home. The beautiful pictures of the form of that early life of man are fresh with the colours of nature and of truth; we understand and are impressed by the characters; our hearts respond to the sentiments. The same holds true of all the descriptions, and the histories and biographies of this precious volume-they belong to the human race. Nor do the strictly didactic parts fall short in this characteristic of universality. Indeed, it is the more admirable here; for it is in this species of writing that human wit has most signally failed. Many of the most illustrious philosophers were wont to affect obscurity in their writings, as if the wisdom which they professed to make known were too august to be presented to men without a veiled countenance. Even Plato and Aristotle are often obscure to their most enraptured disciples. Scholasticism delighted to pile mountains of subtleties upon the green fields of truth, as if it were better to be amazed than to be fed. The fathers took their familiar walks amid the labyrinths of multiform philosophies. But the Bible conveys the most momentous truths in language so simple and under illustrations so striking, that the reader of every nation and of every age recognizes its import, and seems to be in intimate converse with a kind and venerable wisdom, teaching him as earnestly and appropri ately as if he were the only listener, and the only object of his benedictions. And this suggests to us the remark, that the Bible in its universality is still individual. It speaks to all by speaking to each

one.