A few draw prizes, it has been admitted. Some of that few make a good use of them. But the vast majority are injured. They either become less active and industrious, or more parsimonious and miserly; and not a few become prodigals or bankrupts at once. In any of these events, they are of course unfitted for the essential purposes of human existence. It is not given to humanity to bear a sudden acquisition of wealth. The best of men are endangered by it. As in knowledge, so in the present case, what is gained by hard digging is usually retained; and what is gained easily usually goes quickly. There is this difference, however, that the moral character is usually lost with the one, but not always with the other.
These are a part of the evils connected with lotteries. To compute their sum total would be impossible. The immense waste of money and time (and time is money) by those persons who are in the habit of buying tickets, to say nothing of the cigars smoked, the spirits, wine, and ale drank, the suppers eaten, and the money lost at cards, while lounging about lottery offices, although even this constitutes but a part of the waste, is absolutely incalculable. The suffering of wives, and children, and parents, and brothers, and sisters, together with that loss of health, and temper, and reputation, which is either directly or indirectly connected, would swell the sum to an amount sufficient to alarm every one, who intends to be an honest, industrious, and respectable citizen.
It is yours, my young friends, to put a stop to this tremendous evil. It is your duty, and it should be your pleasure, to give that tone to the public sentiment, without which, in governments like this, written laws are powerless.
Do not say that the influence of one person cannot effect much. Remember that the power of example is almost omnipotent. In debating whether you may not venture to buy one more ticket, remember that if you do so, you adopt a course which, if taken by every other individual in the United States (and who out of thirteen millions has not the same right as yourself?) would give abundant support to the whole lottery system, with all its horrors. And could you in that case remain guiltless? Can the fountains of such a sickly stream be pure? You would not surely condemn the waters of a mighty river while you were one of a company engaged in filling the springs and rills that unite to form it. Remember that just in proportion as you contribute, by your example, to discourage this species of gambling, just in the same proportion will you contribute to stay the progress of a tremendous scourge, and to enforce the execution of good and salutary laws.
With this pernicious practice, I have always been decidedly at war. I believe the system to be wholly wrong, and that those who countenance it, in any way whatever, are wholly inexcusable.
Section III. On Theatres.
Much is said by the friends of theatres about what they might be; and not a few persons indulge the hope that the theatre may yet be made a school of morality. But my business at present is with it as it is, and as it has hitherto been. The reader will be more benefited by existing facts than sanguine anticipations, or visionary predictions.
A German medical writer calculates that one in 150 of those who frequently attend theatres become diseased and die, from the impurity of the atmosphere. The reason is, that respiration contaminates the air; and where large assemblies are collected in close rooms, the air is corrupted much more rapidly than many are aware. Lavoisier, the French chemist, states, that in a theatre, from the commencement to the end of the play, the oxygen or vital air is diminished in the proportion of from 27 to 21, or nearly one fourth; and consequently is in the same proportion less fit for respiration, than it was before. This is probably the general truth; but the number of persons present, and the amount of space, must determine, in a great measure, the rapidity with which the air is corrupted. The pit is the most unhealthy part of a play-house, because the carbonic acid which is formed by respiration is heavier than atmospheric air, and accumulates near the floor.
It is painful to look round on a gay audience of 1500 persons, and consider that ten of this number will die in consequence of breathing the bad air of the room so frequently, and so long. But I believe this estimate is quite within bounds.
There are however other results to be dreaded. The practice of going out of a heated, as well as an impure atmosphere late in the evening, and often without sufficient clothing, exposes the individual to cold, rheumatism, pleurisy, and fever. Many a young lady,—and, I fear, not a few young gentlemen,—get the consumption by taking colds in this manner.