The Profit Question

Our oratorical Wellington friends are eager in denunciation, coy in enunciation of principles. Hence, like Little Bo-Peep, we don't know where to find them—on this question of church lotteries—and have to search for them all over the controversial landscape. (3) Perhaps they maintain that the 'viciousness' and the deordination consist in purchase or sale of lottery tickets with a view to profit? (a) In this case we have once more to urge them to point out precisely wherein the sin consists, and—having found the Scriptures—to give chapter and verse therefrom in support of their theory. (b) Do they, page 9 perchance, maintain that the pursuit of gain has now become in itself unlawful? If so, 'carte in tavola' ! down with their proofs. Or (c) shall we be treated to the fine old wheeze that holders of church lottery tickets outrage the divine law by 'coveting their neighbors' goods'—to wit, the painted poppies and lilies and daffydowndillies on the stalls? Well, in that case, too, it becomes the duty of the apostles of the New Morality to prove—again 'from the Scriptures—that the 'rosies red and posies fair' are desired by the ticket-holders in a way that is forbidden by the law of God. For the rest, it is well to remember that the lottery which we are here—and for some time further—contemplating presents all the conditions of a free contract between absolute owners. And 'scienti et volenti non fit injuria.' So runs the old legal maxim: No injury is done to him who knowingly embarks in, and freely assents to, a measure, (c) For the rest, it is our experience—an experience extending over eighteen years—that the vast bulk of those who attend our bazaars and art unions do so principally for the purpose of aiding a cause that appeals to their hearts. Others have had a similar experience. About the middle of 1896, for instance, the noted Protestant writer and divine, Dr. Blair (reported in the 4 Scotsman '), said in the course of a sermon:—

'One could hardly imagine anyone speculating in raffle tickets at a bazaar with the mercenary spirit of making gain. It was generally done because the purchaser desired to help the object in view, or to oblige a friend, and he seldom cared whether the article subscribed for came to him or not.'

The late Dr. Grace, of Wellington, summed up the Catholic feeling on this subject in the following felicitous way:—

'As to raffles, let us try and be reasonable with each other. Who 'goes to a bazaar with the expectation of making a profit? . . . Why do we go to bazaars? Just out of sympathy and good nature. We are living together in a small town, and we help each other in a kindly spirit. For my own part, I never once saw anything in a bazaar I would like to take home with me except a lot of pretty girls. As no single one of them would pick an old fellow like me, even if I were unattached, I just take a ticket in a raffle from every girl page 10 who asks me, till my pocket is empty. And I purpose to continue to do so, not caring a brass farthing for the Anti-Gambling League or Mrs. Grundy.'

And such, in effect, was likewise the manly and defiant utterance of the Rev. Mr. Thompson at the meeting of the Wellington Council of the Churches.