Young's opponents found unexpected support from newspapers, traditionally conservative and supportive of government policy. But worsening unemployment figures, the accompanying distress, and the failure of the Coalition government to deal with it, led most papers to speak out vigorously against the allocations. The Auckland Star wrote that the decisions seemed calculated to irritate public feeling at a time when the government should be careful not to do anything to that effect. The New Zealand Herald complained that as long as profit failed to go to social relief, then the government's position in regard to sweeps (miscalled art unions), became untenable. The New Zealand Worker called it a 'shocking travesty of justice', while the Evening Post demanded an immediate review of the process of fund allocations.

Taken aback, Young retaliated, calling the Hawke's Bay Jockey Club the 'most deserving' of recipients. But he was concerned at the scale of the criticism, which by damaging the image of art unions was opening the door to fresh attacks from wowsers. Young had no wish to see lotteries disappear. He was conscious that people enjoyed a flutter and the tax take was welcome revenue.

The idea of using lottery profits for unemployment relief had been around for some time. In 1930 there were £100 alluvial gold lotteries in both Dunedin and Napier to help the unemployed. Throughout the Depression, mayors in the main centers and country towns continually sought texas lottery permits in order to raise money for the needy, particularly when relief fund resources began to dwindle. Hamilton also favored lotteries for the unemployed, but none eventuated as his Cabinet colleagues were not keen, and neither were the Protestant churches. Reiterating a common theme the Methodist Times called the use of lottery profits for relief purposes a 'deadly evil'. Hamilton was a sensitive man-a Christian and easily influenced. He retreated, never again to suggest that art unions were a sensible means of raising money for the poor and needy.

Yet the clergy and others who were easily outraged were rarely able to offer alternatives to using lottery profits for relief. Protestant arguments that buying lottery tickets was selfish, laziness incarnate, a deification of chance and a symbol of the spiritual disorder of society, were irrelevant to destitute men and women who not only hoped to benefit from lottery profits, but also willingly grasped on the very faint chance that a win might deliver them from their abject despair. In hindsight, Hamilton's suggestion that a state lottery be run to help the unemployed was important because it set in train a process that would eventually lead the government to conclude that directing all lottery profits to the poor in desperate times was pragmatic, humane and electoral sensible.

From the autumn of 1933, the government had allocated some profit money to mayoral relief funds but the amounts were never enough. Auckland mayor G. W Hutchison complained his city would not survive the winter without more government help. To add insult to injury, the government lifted the minimum number of unemployment registrations needed for a community to be eligible for such relief from 30 to 50. In three art unions between July and November 1933, Wellington saw its relief allocation from the profits fall from over £2,000 to £237, and the funds were exhausted by the end of the year. Furthermore, lottery funding allocated to assist those most at risk decreased in the summer as the government believed, erroneously, that social distress was primarily seasonal. Profits from the national art union were halved between 1931 and 1933; yet it remained the only source of income unemployed workers could rely upon to keep the children fed.

After the universal condemnation of the January 1934 profit allocation, the Forbes administration was forced to rethink its policy. The Cabinet now promised to allocate more money to 'deserving causes'. But when, in consequence, Young gave £5,000 of the £7,200 profit from the next art union to the Free Kindergarten movement, financially strapped relief committees and others protested en masse. The government took heed. In the next lottery the amount earmarked for distress relief was £6,000, which left very little for anything else. In May seven city mayors and a host of others from smaller towns urged Young to devote all lottery proceeds during the coming winter to the needy and dispossessed.

With the Depression at its nadir, Young was sympathetic. He persuaded Cabinet to return the unemployment registration figure to 30 and to accept as an operating principle that every lottery henceforth would allocate at least some of its profit to the relief of distress. While no lottery would be run exclusively for the benefit of the unemployed, civic leaders were pleased with this new commitment. By June 1934, £76,

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