T. DeWitt
Talmage:
GAMBLING
EVILS
OF THE CITIES
A
SERIES OF PRACTICAL
AND
POPULAR DISCOURSE
DELIVERED
IN THE BROOKLYN
TABERNACLE
"Let my people go that they may
serve me, for I will at this time seed all my plagues." Ex. ix,
13, 14.
Last winter, in the museum at Cairo,
Egypt, I saw the mummy, or embalmed body of
Pharoah, the oppressor of the ancient Israelites.
Visible are the teeth that he gnashed against the Israelitish
brickmakers, the sockets of the merciless eyes with which he looked
upon the overburdened people of God, the hair that floated in the
breeze of the Red Sea, the very lips with which he commanded them to
make bricks without straw. Thousands
of years after, when the wrappings of the mummy were unrolled, old
Pharoah lifted up his arm as if in imploration, but his skinny bones
cannot again clutch his shattered scepter.
It was to compel that tyrant to let the oppressed go free that
the memorable ten plagues were sent, sailing the Nile and walking amid
the ruins of the Egyptian cities I saw no remains of those plagues
that smote the water or the air.
None of the frogs croaked in the one, none of the locusts
sounded their rattle in the other, and the cattle bore no sign of the
murrain; and through the starry nights hovering above the pyramids no
destroying angel swept his wing,-But there are ten plagues still
stinging and befouling and cursing our cities, and like angels of
wrath smiting not only the firstborn but the last born.
PRIDE
OF CITY
Brooklyn, New York and Jersey City,
though called three, are practically one.
The bridge already fastening two of them together will be
followed by other bridges and by tunnels from both New Jersey and Long
Island shores, until what is true now will, as the years go by,
becoming more emphatically true.
The average condition of public morals in this cluster of
cities is as good if
not better than in any part of the world. Pride of city is natural to men in all times, if they live or
have lived in a metropolis noted for dignity or poweress.
Caesar boasted of his native Rome, Lycurgus of Sparta, Virgil
of Andes, Demosthenes of Athens, Archimedes of Syracuse, and Paul of
Tarsus. I should suspect
a man of base heartedness who carried about with him no feeling of
complacency in regard to the place of his residence; who glorified not
in his arts or arms or behavior; who looked with no exultation upon
its evidence of prosperity, its artistic embellishments and its
scientific attainments.
I have noticed, that men never like a
place where they have not behaved well.
Men who have free rides in prison vans never like the city that
furnishes the vehicle. When
I see in history, Argo, Rhodes, Smyrna, Chios, Colophon, and several
other cities claiming Homer, Iconclude that Homer behaved well.
Let us not war against this pride of city, nor expect to build
upon ourselves by pulling others down.
BOSTON
AND PHILADELPHIA
Let Boston have its commons, its
Faneuil hall and its magnificent scientific and educational
institutions. Let
Philadelphia talk about its Mint, and Independence hall, and Girard
college, and its old families, as virtuous as venerable.
When I find a man living in one of those places who has nothing
to say in favor of them I feel like asking him, "What mean thing
did you do that you do not like your native city?"
New York is a goodly city, and when I say that, I mean the
region between Spuyten Duyvil creek and Jamaica in one direction and
Newark flats in the other direction.
That which tends to elevate a part, elevates it all.
That which blasts part, blasts all.
Sin is a giant and he comes to the Hudson or Conneticut river
and passes it as easily as we step across a figure in the carpet.
The blessing of God is an angel, and when it stretches out its
two wings one of them hovers over that and the other over this.
THE
GREAT CITY OF NEW YORK
In infancy the great metropolis was
laid down by the banks of the Hudson. Its infancy was as feeble as
that of Moses sleeping in the bulrushes by the Nile; and, like Miriam,
there our fathers stood and watched it.
The royal spirit of american commerce came dow by the water to
bathe, and there she found it. She
took it in her arms, and the child grew and waked strong, and the
ships of foreign lands brought gold and spices to its feet, and
stretching itself up into the proportions of a metro-polis, it has
looked up to the
mountains and off upon the sea-the mightest of the energies of
American civilization.
The character of a founder of a city
will be seen for many years in its inhabitants.
Romulus impressed his life upon Rome.
The Pilgrims relaxed not their upon the cities of New England.
William Penn has left Philadelphia an inheritance of integrity and
fair dealing, and on any day in the city you may see in the manners,
customs and principles of its people his tastes, his coat, his hat,
his wife's bonnet and his plain
meeting house. The Hollanders will
still wield an influence over New York.
Grand old New York!
What southern thoroughfare was ever smitten by pestilence, when
our physicians did not throw themselves upon the sacrifice!
What distant land has cried out in the agony of famine, and our
ships have not put out with breadstuffs!
What street of Damascus or Beyrout or Madras that has not heard
the step of our missionaries!
What struggle for national life in which our citizens have not
poured their blood into the trenches?
What gallery of exquisite art in which our painters have not
hung their pictures!
What department of literature or
science to which our scolars have not contributed!
I need not speak of our
public schools, where the
cordwainer and milkman and glassblowers stand by the sides of the
flattered sons
of merchant princes; or of the
insane asylums on all these islands where they, who went cutting
themselves
among the tombs, now sit, clothed,
and in their right minds; or of the Magdalen asylums, where the lost
one
of the street comes to bathe the
Saviors feet with her tears, and wipe them with the hair of her
head--confiding in the pardon of him who said:" Let him who is
without sin cast the first stone at her."
I need not speak of the institution for the blind, the lame,
the deaf, and the dumb, for the incurables, the widow, the orphan and
the outcast; or of the thousand armed machinery that sends streaming
down from the reservoirs the clear, bright, sparkling, God given water
that rushes through our aqueducts, and dashes out of the hydrants, and
tosses up in our fountains, and hisses in our steam engines and
showers out the conflageration, and sprinkles from the baptismal font
of our churches; and with silver note, and golden sparkle, and
crystalline chime, says to hundreds of thousands of our population, in
the authentic words of him who said: "I will; be thou
clean!"
THE
CURSE OF GAMBLING
All this I promise in opening this
course of semons on the ten plagues of these three cities, lest some
stupid men might say I am deprecating in the place of my residence.
I speak to you today concerning the plague of gambling.
Every man and woman in this house ought to be interested in
this theme.
Some years ago, when an association for
the suppression of gambling was organized, an agent of the association
came to a prominent citizen and asked him to patronize the society.
He said, "No, I can have no
interest in such an organization.
Iam in no wise affected by that evil." At that very time
his son, who was his partner in business, was one of the heaviest
players in Hearne's gambling establishment.
Another refused his patronage on the same ground, not knowing
that his first book keeper, though receiving a salary
of only a thousand dollars, was
loosing from fifty to one hundred dollars per night.
The prident of a railroad
company refused to patronize the
institution, saying, " That society is good for the defense of
merchants,
but we railroad people are not
injured by this evil;" not knowing that, at the very time, two of
his conductors
were spending three nights of each
week at faro tables in New York. Directly or indirectly, this evil strikes
at the whole world.
GAMBLING
DEFINED
Gambling is the risking of something
more or less valuable in the hope of winning more than you hazard.
The instrument of gaming may differ but
the principle is the same. The shuffling and dealing of cards,
however full of temptation, is not gambling, unless stakes are put up;
while, on the other hand, gambling may be carried on without cards or
dice, or billiards, or ten- pin alleys.
The man who bets on horses, on
elections, on battles--the man who
deals in "fancy" stocks, or conducts a business which
hazards extra
capital, or goes into transactions
without foundation, but deprendent upon what men call
"luck", is a
gambler.
Whatever you expect to get from your neighbor without offering
an equivalent in money or
time or skill is either the
product of theft or gambling. Lottery
tickets and lottery policies come into the
same category.
Fairs for the founding of hospitals, schools and churches,
conducted on the raffling system, come under the same denomination.
Do not, therefore, associate gambling necessarily with any
instrument, or game, or time or
place, or think the principle depends upon whether you play for a
glass
of wine or one hundred shares of
railroad stock. Whether
you patronize “auction pools”, “French mutuals”, or
“book-making”, whether you employ faro or billiards, rondo or
keno, cards or bagatelle,
the very idea of the thing is
dishonest, for it professes to bestow upon you a good for which you
give no
equivalent.
$
80,000,000,00 DAILY FOR GAMBLING
It is estimated that every day in
Christendom eighty million dollars pass from hand to hand through
gambling practices, and every day
in Christendom one hundred and twenty- three billion and one
hundred milllion dollars change
hands in that way. There
are in this cluster of cities about eight hundred
confessed gambling establishments;
how many of them do you suppose profess to be honest?
Ten. These
ten profess to be honest because
they are merely ante-chamber to the seven hundred and ninety that are
acknowledged fraudulent.
There are first class gambling establishments.
You go up the marble stairs.
You ring the bell. The
liviered servant itroduces you. The
walls are lavender tinted. The
mantles are of Vermont marble. The
pictures are “Jephthah’s Daughter” and Dore’s “Dante’s and
Virgil’s Frozen Region of Hell”-a most appromiate selection, this
last, for the place. There
is the roulette table, the finest, the costliest, most exquisite piece
of furniture in the United States.
There is the banqueting room, where free of charge to the
guests, you may find the plate and viands and wines and cigars
sumptuous beyond parallel.
Then you come to the second class
gambling establishment. To
it you are introduced by
a card through some “ringer-in.”
Having entered, you must either gamble or fight.
Sanded cards, dice loaded with quicksilver, poor drinks, will
soon help you get rid of all your money to a tune in a short meter
with staccato passages. You
wanted to see. You saw. The low
villians of that place watch you as you come in.
Does not the panther, squat in the grass, know a calf when he
sees it? Wrangle not for
your rights in that place, or your body will be thrown bloody into the
street, or dead into the East river.
You go along a little further and find the policy
establishment. In that
place you bet on numbers. Betting
on two numbers is called a “saddle,” betting on three numbers is
called a “gig,” betting on four numbers is called a “horse,”
and there are thousands of our young men leaping into that
“saddle” and mounting that “gig” and behind that “horse”
riding to perdition. There
is always one kind of sign on the door- “Exchange.”
A most appropriate title for the door, for there, in that room,
a man exchanges health, peace, and heaven for a loss of health, loss
of home, loss of family, loss of immortal soul.
Exchange sure enough and infinite enough.
Men wishing to gamble will find places
just suited to their capacity, not only in underground oyster cellar,
or at the table back of the curtain, covered with greasy cards, or in
the steamboat smoking cabin, where the bloated wretch with rings in
his ears instead of his nose, deals the pack, and winks in the
unsuspecting traveler- providing free drinks all around- but in gilded
parlors and amid gorgeous surroundings.
HAZARDING AN ESTATE FOR HELL
A young man having suddenly hired a
large property, sits at the hazard table and takes up in a dice box
the estate won by a father’s
lifetime sweat, and shakes it, and tosses it away.
Intemperance soon stigmatizes its victim, kicking him ouit, a
slavering fool, into the ditch, or sending him, with the drunkard’s
hiccough, staggering up the street where his family lives.
But gambling does not in that way expose its victims.
The gambler may be eaten up by the gambler’s passion, yet you
have only discovered
it by the greed in his eyes, the
hardness of his features, the nervous restlessness, the threadbare
coat and
his embarrassed business.
Yet he is on the road to hell, and no preacher’s voice, or
startling warning, or
wife’s entreaty, can make him
stay for a moment his headlong career. The infernal spell is on him; a
giant is aroused within; and
though you bind him with cables, they would part like thread; and
though you
fasten him seven times around with
chains, they would snap like rusted wire; and though you piled up in
his path heaven high Bibles, tracts and sermons, and on the top should
set the cross of the son of God,
over them all the gambler would leap, like a roe over the rocks, on
his way to perdition.
GAMBLING KILLS INDUSTRY
Again, this sin works ruin by killing
industry. A man used to
reaping scores or hundreds or thousands of
dollars from the gaming table will
not be content with slow work. He will say,” What is the use of trying
to make these fifty dollars in my
store when I can get five times that in half an hour down at ‘
Billy’s?’
You never knew a confirmed gambler who
was industrious. The men
given to this vice spend their time,
not actively engaged in the game,
in idleness, intoxication or sleep, or in corrupting new victims. This
sin
has dulled the carpenter’s saw and cut the band of the factory
wheel, sunh the cargo, broken the teeth of
the farmer’s harrow and sent a strange lightning to shatter
the battery of the philosopher. The very first idea in gaming is at
war with all the industries of society.
THE WHOLE WORLD IS ROBBED
The crime is getting its lever under
many a mercantile house in our great cities, and before long down
will come the great establishment,
crushing reputation, home, comfort, and immortal souls.
How it diverts and sinks capital may be inferred from some
authentic statement before us. The ten gaming houses that once were authorized in Paris
passed through the bank, yearly, three-hundred and twenty-
five million of francs. Where
does all the money come from? The
whole world is robbed! What
is most
sad, there are no consolations for
the loss and suffering entailed by gaming.
If men fail in lawful business, God pities and society
commiserates; hut where in the Bible or in society is there any
consolation
the gambler?
From what tree of the forest oozes there a balm that can soothe
the gamesters heart? In
that
bottle where God keeps the tears
of his children are there any tears of the gambler?
Do the winds that come to kiss the faded cheek of sickness, and
to cool the heated brow of the laborer, whisper hope and cheer to the
emaciated victim of the game of hazard?
When an honest man is in trouble he has sympathy.
“ Poor fellow!” they say.
But do gamblers come to weep at the agony of the gambler?
Ay, there is no sympathy for him in sorrows!
MR. PORTER’S
SAD HISTORY
In Northumberland was one of the finest
estates in England. Mr.
Porter owned it, and in a year gambled it all away.
Having lost the last acre of the estate, he came down from the
saloon , and got his carriage
went back, staked his horses and
carriage and town house, and played. He threw and lost. He
started home, and in a side alley met a friend from whom he borrowed
ten guineas; went back to the saloon and
before a great while had won
twenty thousand pounds. He
died at last a beggar in St. Giles.
How many
gamblers felt sorry for Mr.
Porter? Who consoled him
on the loss of his estate? What
gambler subscribed to put a stone over the poor man’s grave?
Not one!
GAMBLING THE CAUSE OF OTHER CRIMES
Furthermore,
this sin is the source of uncounted dishonesties. The game of hazard itself is often a game of
cheat.
How many tricks and deceptions in the dealing of cards!
The opponents hand is ofttimes found out
by
fraud. Cards are marked
so that they may be designated from the back.
Expert gamesters have their accomplices, and one wink may
decide the game. The
dices have been found loaded with platina, so that
“doublets”
come up every time. These
dices are introduced by gamblers, unobserved by honest men who have
come into the play; and
this accounts for the fact that ninety-nine out of a hundred who
gamble,
however
wealthy they began, at the end are found to be poor, miserable, ragged
wretches, that would not now be allowed to sit on the door step of the
house that they once owned. In
a gambling house in San Francisco a young man having just come from
the mines deposited a large sum upon the ace, and won
twenty-two thousand dollars. But
the tide turns. Intense
exitement comes upon the countenances of all.
Slowly the cards
went forth. Every eye is
fixed. Not a sound is
heard until the ace is revealed favorable
to the
bank. There are shouts of
“Foul!” , “Foul!” but the keepers of the table produce their
pistols, and
the uproar is silenced and the bank has
won ninety- five thousand dollars.
Do you call this a game of chance?
There is no chance about it.
IT UTTERLY RUINS
But these dishonesties in the carrying on of the
game are nothing when compared with the frauds which
are committed in order to get money to go on
with the nefarious work. Gambling with its greedy hand has
snatched away the widow’s mite and the
portion of the orphans; has
sold the daughter’s virtue to get the means to continue the game;
has written the counterfeit signature, emptied the banker’s money
vault and
wielded the assassin’s dagger.
There is no depth of meanness to which it will not stoop.
There is no cruelty at which it is appalled. There is no warning of God that it will not dare.
Merciless, unappeasable, fiercer and wilder, it blinds, it
hardens, it rends, it blasts, it crushes, it damns.
It has peopled our prisons,
and lunatic asylums.
How many railroad agents and cashiers and trustees of funds it
has driven to disgrace, incarceration and suicide!
Witness years ago a cashier of a railroad who stole one hundred
and three thousand dollars to carry on his gambling practices.
Witness forty thousand dollars stolen from a Brooklyn bank
within the memory of many of you, and the one hundred and eighty
thousand dollars taken
from a Wallstreet insurance company for the
same purpose! These are
only illustrations on a large scale of the robberies every day
comitted for the purpose of carrying out the designs of gamblers.
Hundreds of thousands of dollars every year leak out without
observation from the merchant’s till into the gambling hell.
A man in London keeping one of these gambling houses
boasted that he had ruined a nobleman a day; but
if all the saloons of this land were to speak out they might utter a
more infamous boast, for they have destroyed a thousand noblemen a
year.
IT DESTROYS DOMESTIC HAPPINESS
Notice also the effect of this crime upon domestic
happiness. It has sent
its ruthless plowshare through hundreds of families, until the wife
sat in rags, and the daughters were disgraced, and the sons grew up to
the same infamous practices or took a
shortcut to destruction across the murderer’s scaffold.
Home has lost all its charms to the gambler.
How tame are the children’s caresses and a wife’s devotion
to the gambler! How
drearily the fire burns on the domestic hearth!
There must be louder laughter, and some-
thing to win and something to loose; an
exitement to drive the heart faster and filip the blood and fire the
imagination. No
home, however bright, can keep back the gamester.
The sweet call of love bounds back from his iron soul, and all
endearments are consumed in the flame of his passion.
The family Bible will go after all other treasures are lost,
and if his crown in heaven were put into his hand he would cry:”
Here
goes one more game, my boys!
on thus one throw I stake my crown of heaven.”
A SAD,
SAD STORY AND LETTER
A young man in London, on coming of age, received a
fortune of one hundred and twenty thousand dollars, and , through
gambling, in three years was thrown on his mother for support.
An only son went to a southern city; he was rich, intellectual
and elegant in manners. His
parents gave him on his departure
from home their last blessing.
The sharpers got hold of him.
They flattered him. They
lured him to the gaming table, and let him win almost every time for a
good while, and patted him on the back and said,”First rate
player.”. But fully in
their grasp they fleeced him, and his thirty thousand dollars were
lost. Last of all he put
up his watch and lost that. Then
he began to think of his home and his old father and mother, and wrote
thus:
My beloved parents—you will doubtless feel a
momentary joy at the reception of this letter from the child of your
bosom, on whom you have lavished all the favors of your declining
years. But should a
feeling of joy for a moment spring up in your hearts when you should
have received this from me cherish it not.
I have fallen deep—never to rise.
Those gray hairs that I should have honored and protected I
shall bring down with sorrow to the grave.
I will not curse my destroyer, but oh, may God avenge the
wrongs and impositions practiced upon the unwary in a way that shall
best please Him. This, my
dear parents, is the last letter you will ever receive from me.
I humbly pray your forgiveness.
It is my dying prayer. Long
before you have received this letter from me, the cold grave will have
closed upon me forever. Life
to me is insupportable. I
cannot, nay, I will not, suffer the shame of having ruined you.
Forget and forgive is the dying prayer of your unfortunate
son.” The old father came to the postoffice, got the letter and
fell to the floor. They
thought he was dead at first; but they brushed back the white hair
from his brow and fanned him. He
had only fainted. I wish
he had been dead, for what is life worth to a father after his son is
destroyed ? When thngs go
wrong at the gaming table they shout,”Foul! Foul!”
Over all the gaming tables of the world Icry out:”Foul!foul!
Infinitely foul!”.
A VIVID PICTURE OF THE GAMBLER’S LIFE
Shall I sketch the history of the
gambler ? Lured by bad
company he finds his way into a place where honest men ought never to
go. He sits down to his first game, but only for pastime and the
desire of being thought sociable.
The players deal out the cards.
They unconsciously play into Satan’s hands. who takes all the
tricks and both the players’ souls for trups—he being a sharper at
any game. A slight stake
is put up just to add interest to the play.
Game after game is played.
Larger stakes and still larger.
They begin to move nervously on their chairs.
Their brows lower and their eyes flash, until now they who win,
and they who lose, fired alike with passion, sit with set jaws, and
compressed lips, and clinched fists and eyes
like fireballs that seem starting
freom their sockets, to see the final turn before it comes; if losing,
pale with envy and tremolous with unuttered oaths cast back red hot
upon the heart—or, winning, with hysteric laugh—“Ha!ha! I have
it! I have it!” A few
years have passed and he is only the wreck of a man.
Seating himself at the game ere he
throws the first card, he stakes the last relic of his wife, and the
marriage ring which sealed the solemn vows between them.
The game is lost, and staggering back in exhaustion, he dreams.
The bright hours of the past mock his agony, and in his dreams fiend
eith eyes of fire and tongue of flames circle about him with joined
hand to dance and sing their orgies with hellish chorus, chanting,”
Hail brother !” kissing his clammy forehead until their loathsome
locks, flowing with
serpents, crawl into his bosom and
sink their sharp fangs and suck up his life’s blood, and coiling
around
his heart pinch it with chills and
shutters unutterable.
BE WARNED IN TIME
Take warning!
You are no stronger than tens of thousands who have by this
practice been overthrown. No
young man in our cities can escape being tempted.
Beware of the beginnings!
This road is a down grade, and every instant increases the
momentum. Launch not upon
this treacherous sea. Split
hulks strew the beach. Everlasting
storms howl up and down tossing unwary crafts into the Hell gate. I speak
of what I have seen eith my own eyes.
I have looked off into the abyss, and I have seen the foaming
and the hissing , and the whirling of the horrid deep in which the
mangled victims writhed, one upon another, and struggled,
strangled,blasphemed and died—the death stere of eternal despair
upon their countenances as the
waters gurgled over them. To
a gambler’s deathbed there comes no hope.
He will probably die alone. His former associates come not nigh
his dwelling. When the
hour comes his miserable soul will go out of that miserable life into
a miserable eternity. As
his poor remains pass the house where he was ruined, old companions
may look out a moment and say,” There goes the old carcass—dead at
last,” but they will not get up from the table.
Let him down now into his grave.
Plant no tree to cast its shade there, for the long, deep,
eternal gloom that settles there is shadow enough.
Plant no “ forget-me-nots”, or eglantines around the spot,
for flowers were not made to grow on such a blasted heath.
Visit it not in the sunshine, for that would be mockery, but in
the dismal night, when no sters are out and the spirits of darkness
come down horsed on the wind, then visit the grave of the gambler!