up, sprinkling the air with sparkles, or gushing through the
mouth of the marble lion. Long mirrors, mounted with scrolls and wings
and exquisite carvings, catching and reflecting back the magnificence.
At their doors merchant-princes dismount from their carriages;
official dignitaries enter; legislators, tired of making laws, here
take a respite in breaking them.

From all classes this crime is gathering its victims: the importer of
foreign silks, and the Chatham street dealer in pocket-handkerchiefs;
clerks taking a game in the store after the shutters are put up; and
officers of the court whiling away the time while the jury are out. In
the woods around Baden Baden, in the morning, it is no rare thing to
find the suspended bodies of suicides. No splendor of surroundings can
hide the dreadful nature of this sin. In the third watch of this very
night, the tears of thousands of orphans and widows will dash up in
those fountains. The thunders of eternal destruction roll in the deep
rumble of that ten-pin alley. And as from respectable circles young
men and old are falling in line of procession, all the drums of woe
begin to beat the dead march of ten thousand souls.

Seven millions of dollars are annually lost in New York city at the
gaming-table. Some of your own friends may be at it. The agents of
these gaming-houses around our hotels are well dressed. They meet a
stranger in the city; they ask him if he would like to see the city;
he says, "Yes;" they ask him if he has seen that splendid building up
town, and he says "No." "Then," says the villain to the greenhorn, "I
will show you the lions and the elephants." After seeing the lions
and the elephants, I would not give much for a young man's chance for
decency or heaven. He looks in, and sees nothing objectionable; but
let him beware, for he is on enchanted ground. Look out for the men
who have such sleek hats--always sleek hats--and such a patronizing
air, and who are so unaccountably interested in your welfare and
entertainment. All that they want of you is your money. A young man
on Chestnut street, Philadelphia, lost in a night all his money at the
gaming-table, and, before he left the table, blew his brains out; but
before the maid had cleaned up the blood the players were again at the
table, shuffling away. A wolf has more compassion for the lamb whose
blood it licks up; a highwayman more love for the belated traveller
upon whose carcass he piles the stone; th