The Yale expositor., 1897-08-06

until the fly passes. Thousands OF
young men in the hope of gain go into
these practices. They say: well, my
salary is not enough to allow this lux
ury. l don't get enough from my store,
Office, or shop. ought to have finer
apartments. / ought to have better
wines. l ought TO have more richly
favored cigars. l ought to be able to
entertain my friends more extensively.
l won't stand this any longer. can
with one brilliant stroke make for
tune. Now, here goes, principle or no
principle, heaven or hell. Who cares"
When young man makes up his mind
to live beyond his income, Satan has
bought him out and out, and 1t is only
question of time when the goods are
to be delivered. The thing is done.
You may plant in the way all the bat
teries OF truth and righteousness, that
man is bound to go on. When man
makes one thousand dollars year and
spends one thousand two hundred dol
lars; when a young man makes one
thousand five hundred dollars, and
spends one thousand seven hundred
dollars. all the harpies of darkness cry
out: "Ha! hal" we have him." and
they have. How to get the extra five
hundred dollars or the extra two thou
sand dollars Is the question. He says:
Here Is my friend who started out the
other day with but little money, and in
one night, so great was his luck, he
rolled up hundreds and thousands of
dollars. If he got 1t, why not 1? 1t is
such dull work. this adding up of long
lines OF figures in the contingencies;
this pulling down of hundred yards
or goods and selling a remnant; this
always waiting upon somebody else,
when l could put one hundred dollars
on the ace and pick up a thousand"
Many years ago for sermonic pur-
poses and In company with the chief
OF police of New York I visited one
OF the most brilliant gambling houses
In that city. 1t was night and as we
came up in front all seemed dark. The
blinds were down. the door was
guarded; but after whispering of the
oflcer with the guard at the door, we
were admitted into the hall, and thence
into the parlors, around one table, find
ing eight or ten men in mid-life, we'll
dressed-all the work going on in
silence, save the noise of the rafting
chips" on the gaming-table in one
parlor, and the revolving ball of the
roulette table in the other parlor.
Some of these men, we were told, had
served terms in prison; some were
ship-wrecked bankers and brokers and
money-dealers, and some were going
their first rounds of vice-but all in
tent upon the table. as large or small
fortunes moved up and down before
them. oh. there was something aw-
fully solemn in the silence-the in
tense gaze, the suppressed emotions of
the players. No one looked up. They
all had money in the rapids, and l
have no doubt some saw, as they sat
there, horses and carriages, and houses
and lands, and home and family rush
ing down into the vortex A mans
life would not have been worth a
farthing in that presence had he not
been accompanied by the police. if
he had been supposed to be on a Chris
tian errand of observation. Some of
these men went by private key, some
went by careful introduction, some
were taken in by the patrons of the
establishment. The officer of the law
told me: "None get in here except by
police mandate, or by some letter of
a patron" While we were there
young man came in, put his money
down on the roulette-table, and lost:
put more money down on the roulette
table and lost; put more money down
on the roulette-table, and lost then
feeling in his pockets for more money,
finding none, in severe silence he turn
ed his back upon the scene and passed
out. While we stood there men lost
their property and lost their souls.
Oh, the merciless place! Not once in
all the history of that gaming-house
has there been one word of sympathy
Sir Horace Walpole said that man
dropped dead in one of the clubhouses
of London; his body was carried into
the clubhouse, and the members OF
the club began Immediately to bet as
to whether he were dead or alive, and
when 1t was proposed to test the mat
ter by bleeding him, it was only him
dered by the suggestion that 1t would
be unfair to some of the playersl In
these gaming houses of our cities, men
have their property wrung away from
them, and then they go out, some of
them to drown their grief in strong
drink, some to ply the counterfeiter's
pen, and so restore their fortunes,
some resort to the suicides revolver,
but all going down, and that work
proceeds day by day, and night by
night. "That cart-rope," says some
young man, has never been wound
around my SOUL" But have not some
threads of that cart-rope been twisted?
I arraign before God the gift en-
terprises of our cities, which have a
tendency to make this a nation of
gamblers. Whatever you get, young
In MI No nit nn