The Young Man's Guide - William Andrus Alcott (best ebook reader for laptop TXT) 📗

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.

Not only the health of the body, but the mind and morals, too, are often injured. Dr. Griscom, of New York, in a report on the causes of vice and crime in that city, made a few years since, says; 'Among the causes of vicious excitement in our city, none appear to be so powerful in their nature as theatrical amusements. The number of boys and young men who have become determined thieves, in order to procure the means of introduction to the theatres and circuses, would appal the feelings of every virtuous mind, could the whole truth be laid open before them.

'In the case of the feebler sex, the result is still worse. A relish for the amusements of the theatre, without the means of indulgence, becomes too often a motive for listening to the first suggestion of the seducer, and thus prepares the unfortunate captive of sensuality for the haunts of infamy, and a total destitution of all that is valuable in the mind and character of woman.'

The following fact is worthy of being considered by the friends and patrons of theatres. During the progress of one of the most ferocious revolutions which ever shocked the face of heaven, theatres, in Paris alone, multiplied from six to twenty-five. Now one of two conclusions follow from this: Either the spirit of the times produced the institutions, or the institutions cherished the spirit of the times; and this will certainly prove that they are either the parents of vice or the offspring of it.

The philosopher Plato assures us, that 'plays raise the passions, and prevent the use of them; and of course are dangerous to morality.'

'The seeing of Comedies,' says Aristotle, 'ought to be forbidden to young people, till age and discipline have made them proof against debauchery.'

Tacitus says, 'The German women were guarded against danger, and preserved their purity by having no play-houses among them.'

Even Ovid represents theatrical amusements as a grand source of corruption, and he advised Augustus to suppress them.

The infidel philosopher Rousseau, declared himself to be of opinion, that the theatre is, in all cases, a school of vice. Though he had himself written for the stage, yet, when it was proposed to establish a theatre in the city of Geneva, he wrote against the project with zeal and great force, and expressed the opinion that every friend of pure morals ought to oppose it.

Sir John Hawkins, in his life of Johnson, observes:—'Although it is said of plays that they teach morality, and of the stage that it is the mirror of human life, these assertions are mere declamation, and have no foundation in truth or experience. On the contrary, a play-house, and the regions about it, are the very hot-beds of vice.'

Archbishop Tillotson, after some pointed and forcible reasoning against it, pronounces the play-house to be 'the devil's chapel,' 'a nursery of licentiousness and vice,' and 'a recreation which ought not to be allowed among a civilized, much less a Christian people.'

Bishop Collier solemnly declared, that he was persuaded that 'nothing had done more to debauch the age in which he lived, than the stage poets and the play-house.'

Sir Matthew Hale, having in early life experienced the pernicious effects of attending the theatre, resolved, when he came to London, never to see a play again, and to this resolution he adhered through life.

Burgh says; 'What does it avail that the piece itself be unexceptionable, if it is to be interlarded with lewd songs or dances, and tagged at the conclusion with a ludicrous and beastly farce? I cannot therefore, in conscience, give youth any other advice than to avoid such diversions as cannot be indulged without the utmost danger of perverting their taste, and corrupting their morals.'

Dr. Johnson's testimony on this subject is nearly as pointed as that of Archbishop Tillotson; and Lord Kaimes speaks with much emphasis of the 'poisonous influence,' of theatres.

Their evil tendency is seldom better illustrated than by the following anecdote, from an individual in New York, on whose statements we may place the fullest reliance.

'F. B. a young man of about twenty-two, called on the writer in the fall of 1831 for employment. He was a journeyman printer; was recently from Kentucky; and owing to his want of employment, as he said, was entirely destitute, not only of the comforts, but the necessaries of life. I immediately procured him a respectable boarding house, gave him employment, and rendered his situation as comfortable as my limited means would permit.

'He had not been with me long, before he expressed a desire to go to the theatre. Some great actor was to perform on a certain night, and he was very anxious to see him. I warned him of the consequences, and told him, my own experience and observation had convinced me that it was a very dangerous place for young men to visit. But my warning did no good. He neglected his business, and went. I reproved him gently, but retained him in my employment. He continued to go, notwithstanding all my remonstrances to the contrary. At length my business suffered so much from his neglecting to attend to it as he ought, that I was under the necessity of discharging him in self-defence. He got temporary employment in different offices of the city, where the same fault was found with him. Immediately after, he accepted a situation of bar-keeper in a porter house or tavern attached to the theatre. His situation he did not hold long—from what cause, I know not.

'He again applied to me for work; but as his habits were not reformed, I did not think it prudent to employ him, although I said or did nothing to injure him in the estimation of others. Disappointed in procuring employment in a business to which he had served a regular apprenticeship, being pennyless, and seeing no bright prospect for the future, he enlisted as a common soldier in the United States' service.

'He had not been in his new vocation long, before he was called upon, with other troops, to defend our citizens from the attacks of the Indians. But when the troops had nearly reached their place of destination, that 'invisible scourge,' the cholera, made its appearance among them. Desertion was the consequence, and among others who fled, was the subject of this article.

'He returned to New York—made application at several different offices for employment, without success. In a few days news came that he had been detected in pilfering goods from the house of his landlord. A warrant was immediately issued for him—he was seized, taken to the police office—convicted, and sentenced to six months' hard labor in the penitentiary. His name being published in the newspapers, in connection with those of other convicts—was immediately recognised by the officer under whom he had enlisted.—This officer proceeds to the city—claims the prisoner—and it is at length agreed that he shall return to the United States' service, where he shall, for the first six months, be compelled to roll sand as a punishment for desertion, serve out the five years for which he had enlisted, and then be given up to the city authorities, to suffer for the