The Hebrews, in resorting to the casting of lots, believed it was an appeal to the Lord. It was not thought to be gambling. It is useful that the reader should understand this. Thus by lot it was determined which of the goats should be offered by Aaron; by lot the land of Canaan was subdivided; by lot Saul was chosen to wear the crown; by lot Jonah was discovered to be the cause of the storm. It is well to note that herein gambling had its sacred origin. Man cannot easily surrender the idea that Heaven directs the casting of a die. It is possible that man founds his passion for hazard upon his love of the mystic. Yet no laws are so exact as the laws of chance, and none are so sure to seize on those laws as the professional gambler. The priests of Egypt assured Herodotus that one of their kings visited alive the infernal regions, and that he there gambled with a large party. Plutarch recites an Egyptian story to the effect that Mercury having fallen in love with the earth, and wishing to do the earth a favor, gambled with the moon, and won from the moon every seventieth part of the time she illumined the earth. Out of these seventieth parts Mercury made five days, and added them to the earth’s year, which had formerly held but 360 days.

The examples of these gods could not but move the people to gamble. We know that the vice prevailed because we discover the existence of heavy penalties against it. In Egypt, if a person were convicted of the crime of dice-playing, or of being a gamester, he was sent to work in the quarries, to recruit those vast companies which were continually engaged in public enterprises, such as the pyramids, the labyrinth, the artificial lake and the lesser monuments.

Persians.—We gather that gaming with dice was a fashionable diversion at the Persian court 400 years before Christ, from the historical anecdotes recited by Plutarch in his life of Artaxerxes. The younger Cyrus, son of Queen Parysatis, had been killed at the order of Artaxerxes by a favorite slave of the king; and the queen, who was the mother also of Artaxerxes, burned secretly for revenge on the slave, whose name was Mesabetes. But as the slave had merely obeyed the monarch, her son, the Queen laid this snare for him. She excelled at playing a certain game of dice. She had apparently forgiven her elder son, the King, for his cruel deed, and joined him continually at play. One day she proposed playing for a stake of $500, to which the King agreed, and she, feigning lack of skill, lost the money, and paid it on the nail. But affecting sorrow and vexation over her ill-luck, she pressed the King to play for a slave, as if her cash were short. The King suspected nothing, and accepted the stake. It was stipulated that the winner should choose the slave. Now the Queen resorted to all the arts of gaming, which easily procured a victory. She chose Mesabetes, the slayer of Cyrus, and this slave, being delivered into her hands, was put to the most cruel tortures, and to death. When the King would have interfered, she only replied with a smile of contempt: “Surely you must be a great loser, to be so much out of temper for giving up a decrepit old slave, when I, who lost $500, and paid on the spot, do not say a word, and am satisfied.”

To properly understand this story, it must be remembered that a slave had no rights whatever, being treated simply as cattle. Should a man express pity for a rat in the teeth of a terrier, he would be on a par with Artaxerxes if he pitied Mesabetes. The grief of the outwitted King was unmanly, from the ancient standpoint, but it is notable that dice ministered to the plot of revenge and murder.

The laws of the modern Persians, who are Mohammedans, prohibit all gambling. The Persians evade the sin by making alms of their winnings—a sorry device, for it is only the robbery of Peter to give larger to Paul. Like all other evasions, even this practice soon degenerates into gambling pure and simple, the excuse being that skill more than chance has to do with the game. The public spirit, however, is happily adverse to the practice, and any gambling-place is called in detestation, a morgue, a carrion-house, a “habitation of corrupted carcasses.”

The Hindoos.—At the “Festival of Lamps,” in honor of the goddess of wealth, the Rajpoots make a religion of gambling. At such a time vice may indeed prosper. Easy was the conquest of a people whose sensuality and superstition could be so well united in the service of the priesthood. The specialties of Hindoo gambling are interesting. The hot climate stimulates the passion, and the greater the Raja, or King, the longer the tale of his fortune at play.

The ancient Hindoo dice, known as coupeen, were similar to modern dice, and were thrown from a box. The practice of “loading” is plainly alluded to, and there was opportunity for skill in handling the box. In the more modern Hindoo games, called pasha, the dice are not cubic but oblong, and they are thrown like printer’s quads in “jeffing”—that is, out of the palm of the hand. The throw may be made either directly upon the ground, or against a post or board, which will break the fall and render the result more a matter of chance.chance.

A story of a Rajah’s insane love of play forms a striking passage in the great Sanskrit poem of the Veda. The famous gambling-match was the outcome of a conspiracy between two brothers, Duryodhana and Duhsasana, and their uncle Sakuni, of the family of the Kauravas, for the purpose of robbing Yudhisthira of his Raj, or the kingdom of the Pandavas. The poem deals with the conception of a Nemesis. Envy and love of conquest led the conspirators to invite Yudhisthira to a game of coupeen at Hastinapur. The Veda is translated as follows:

“And it came to pass that Duryodhana was very jealous of the pomp of his cousin Yudhisthira, and desired in his heart to destroy the Pandavas and gain the Raj. Now Sakuni was the brother of Gandhari, who was the brother of the Kauravas, and he was very skillful in throwing dice, and in playing with dice that were loaded, insomuch that whenever he played he always won the game. So Duryodhana plotted with his uncle, and then proposed to his father, the Maharaja, or Great Raja, that Yudhisthira should be invited to the Festival, and the Great Raja was secretly glad that his sons should be friendly with their cousins, the sons of his deceased brother, Pandu, and so he sent his younger brother, Vidura, to the city of Indraprastha to invite the Pandavas to the game.

“And Vidura went his way to the city of the Pandavas, and was received by them with every sign of attention and respect. And Yudhisthira inquired whether his kinsfolk and friend at Hastinapur were all well in health, and Vidura replied, ‘They are all well.’

“Then Vidura said to the Pandavas: ‘Your uncle, the Great Raja, is about to give a great feast, and he invites you and your mother and your joint wife to come to his city, and there will be a match at dice-playing.’

“When Yudhisthira heard these words he was troubled in mind, for he knew that gaming was a frequent cause of strife, and he was in no way skillful in throwing the dice, and likewise knew that Sakuni was dwelling at Hastinapur, and that he was a famous gambler. But Yudhisthira remembered that the invitation of the Great Raja was equal to the command of a father, and that no true Kshatriga could refuse a challenge either to war or play. So Yudhisthira accepted the invitation and commanded that on the appointed day his brethren and their mother and their joint wives should accompany him to the city of Hastinapur.

“When the day arrived for the departure of the Pandavas, they took their mother Kunti, and their joint wife Draupadi, and journeyed from Indraprastha to the city of Hastinapur, where they first paid a visit of respect to the Great Raja; and they found him sitting among his chieftains, and the ancient Bhishma, and the preceptor Drona and Karua, who was the friend of Duryodhana, and many others were sitting there also.

“And when the Pandavas had done reverence to the Great Raja, and respectfully saluted all present, they paid a visit to their aunt Gandhari, and did her reverence likewise.

And after they had done this, their mother and joint wife entered the presence of Gandhari, and respectfully saluted her; and the wives of the Karauvas came in and were made known to Kunti and Draupadi. And the wives of the Kauravas were much surprised when they beheld the beauty and fine raiment of Draupadi; and they were very jealous of their kinswoman. And when all their visits had been paid, the Pandavas retired with their wife and mother to the quarters which had been prepared for them, and when it was evening they received the visits of all their friends who were dwelling at Hastinapur.

Now, on the morrow the gambling match was to be played; so when the morning had come, the Pandavas bathed and dressed, and left Draupadi in the lodging which had been prepared for her, and went their way to the palace. And the Pandavas again paid their respects to their uncle, the Maharaja, and were then conducted to the pavilion where the play was to be; and Duryodhana went with them, together with all his brethren, and all the chieftains of the royal house. And when the assembly had all taken their seats, Sakuni said to Yudhisthira: “The ground here has all been prepared, and the dice are all ready: Come now, I pray you, and play a game.” But Yudhisthira was disinclined, and replied: “I will not play, excepting upon fair terms; but if you will pledge yourself to throw without artifice or deceit, I will accept your challenge.” Sakuni said: “If you are so fearful of losing you had better not play at all.” At these words Yudhisthira was wroth, and replied: “I have no fear either in play or war; but let me know with whom I am to play, and who is to pay me if I win.” So Duryodhana came forward and said: “I am the man with whom you are to play, and I shall lay any stakes against your stakes; but my uncle Sakuni will throw the dice for me.” Then Yudhisthira said: “What manner of game is this, where one man throws and another lays the stakes.” Nevertheless he accepted the challenge, and he and Sakuni began to play.

At this point in the narrative it may be desirable to pause, and endeavor to obtain a picture of the scene. The so-called pavilion was probably a temporary booth, constructed of bamboos and interlaced with basket work; and very likely it was decorated with flowers and leaves after the Hindoo fashion, and hung with fruits, such as cocoa-nuts, mangoes, plantains, and maize. The chieftains present seem to have sat upon the ground, and watched the game. The stakes may have been pieces of gold and silver, or cattle, or lands; although, according to the legendary account which follows, they included articles of a far more extravagant and imaginative character. With these passing remarks, the tradition of the memorable game may be resumed as follows:

So Yudhisthira and Sakuni sat down to play, and whatever Yudhisthira laid as stakes, Duryodhana laid something of equal value; but Yudhisthira lost every game. He first lost a very beautiful pearl; next a thousand bags, each containing a thousand pieces of gold; next a piece of gold so pure that it was as soft as wax; next a chariot set with jewels and hung all round with golden bells; next, a thousand war elephants, with golden howdahs set with diamonds; next a lakh of slaves all dressed in good garments; next a lakh of beautiful slave girls, adorned from head to foot with golden ornaments; next all the remainder of his goods; next all his cattle; and then the whole of his Raj, excepting only the lands which had been granted to the Brahmins.

Now when Yudhisthira had lost his Raj, the chieftains present in the pavilion were of the opinion that he should cease to play, but he would not listen to their words, but persisted in the game. And he staked all the jewels belonging to his brothers, and he lost them; and he staked his two younger brothers, one after the other, and he lost them; and he then staked Arjuna, and Bhima, and finally himself, and he lost every game. Then Sakuni said to him: “You have done a bad act, Yudhisthira, in gaming away yourself and becoming a slave. But now, stake your wife, Draupadi, and if you win the game you will again be free.” And Yudhisthira answered and said: “I will stake Draupadi!” And all assembled were greatly troubled and thought evil of Yudhisthira; and his uncle Vidura put his hand to his head and fainted away, whilst Bhishma and Drona turned deadly pale, and many of the company were very sorrowful; but Duryodhana and his brother Duhsasana, and some others of the Karauvas were glad in their hearts, and plainly manifested their joy. Then Sakuni threw the dice, and won Draupadi for Duryodhana.

Then all in that assembly were in great consternation, and the chieftains gazed upon one another without speaking a word. And Duryodhana said to her uncle Vidura. “Go now and bring Draupadi hither, and bid her sweep the rooms.” But Vidura cried out against them with a loud voice, and said: “What wickedness is this? Will you order a woman who is of noble birth, and the wife of your own kinsman, to become a household slave? How can you vex your brethren thus? But Draupadi has not become your slave, for Yudhisthira lost himself before he staked his wife, and having first become a slave, he could no longer have power to stake Draupadi!” Vidura then turned to the assembly and said: “Take no heed to the words of Duryodhana, for he has lost his senses this day.” Duryodhana then said: “A curse be upon this Vidura, who will do nothing that I desire him.”

After this Duryodhana called one of his servants, and desired him to go to the lodgings of the Pandavas, and bring Draupadi into the pavilion. And the man departed out, and went to the lodgings of the Pandavas, and entered the presence of Draupadi and said to her: “Raja Yudhisthira has played you away, and you have become the slave of Raja Duryodhana: So come now and do your duty like his other slave girls.” And Draupadi was astonished at these words, and exceedingly wroth, and she replied: “Whose slave was I that I could be gambled away? And who is such a senseless fool as to gamble away his own wife?” The servant said: “Raja Yudhisthira has lost himself, and his four brothers, and you also, to Raja Duryodhana, and you cannot make any objection. Arise, therefore, and go to the house of the Raja.”

Then Draupadi cried out: “Go you now and inquire whether Raja Yudhisthira lost me first, or himself first; for if he played away himself first, he could not stake me.” So the man returned to the assembly, and put the question to Yudhisthira; but Yudhisthira hung down his head with shame, and answered not a word.

Then Duryodhana was filled with wrath, and he cried out to his servant: “What“What waste of words is this? Go you and bring Draupadi hither, that if she has aught to say she may say it in the presence of us all.” And the man essayed to go, but he beheld the wrathful countenance of Bhima and he was sore afraid, and he refused to go, and remained where he was. Then Duryodhana sent his brother Duhsasana; and Duhsasana went his way to the lodgings of Draupadi, and said: “Raja Yudhisthira has lost you in play to Rajah Duryodhana, and he has sent for you. So arise now and wait upon him according to his commands; and if you have anything to say, you can say it in the presence of the assembly.” Draupadi replied: “The death of the Karauvas is not far distant, since they can do such deeds as these.” And she rose up in great trepidation and set out, but when she came near to the palace of the Maharaja, she turned aside from the pavilion where the chieftains were assembled, and ran away with all speed toward the apartments of the women. And Duhsasana hastened after her and seized her by her hair, which was very dark and long, and dragged her by main force into the pavilion before all the chieftains.

And she cried out: “Take your hands from off me.” But Duhsasana heeded not her words, and said: “You are now a slave girl, and slave girls cannot complain of being touched by the hands of men.”

When the chieftains thus beheld Draupadi, they hung down their heads from shame, and Draupadi called upon the elders amongst them, such as Bhishma and Drona to acquaint her whether or no Raja Yudhisthira had gamed away himself before he had staked her; but they likewise held down their heads and answered not a word.

Then she cast her eye upon the Pandavas, and her glance was like the stabbing of a thousand daggers, but they moved not hand or foot to help her; for when Bhima would have stepped forward to deliver her from the hands of Duhsasana, Yudhisthira commanded him to forbear, and both he and the younger Pandavas were obliged to obey the command of their elder brother.

And when Duhsasana saw that Draupadi looked towards the Pandavas, he took her by the hand, and drew her another way, saying: “Why, O slave, are you turning your eyes about you?” And when Kama and Sakuni heard Duhsasana calling her a slave, they cried out: “Well said! well said!”

Then Draupadi wept very bitterly, and appealed to all the assembly, saying: “All of you have wives and children of your own, and will you permit me to be treated thus? I ask you one question, and I pray you to answer it.” Duhsasana then broke in and spoke foul language to her, and used her rudely, so that her veil came off in his hands. And Bhima could restrain his wrath no longer, and spoke vehemently to Yudhisthira; and Arjuna reproved him for his anger against his elder brother, but Bhima answered: “I will thrust my hands into the fire before these wretches shall treat my wife in this manner before my eyes.”

Then Duryodhana said to Draupadi: “Come, now, I pray you, and sit upon my thigh;” and Bhima gnashed his teeth and cried out with a loud voice: “Hear my vow this day: If for this deed I do not break the thigh of Duryodhana, and drink the blood of Duhsasana, I am not the son of Kunti.”

Meanwhile the Chieftain Vidura had left the assembly, and told the blind Maharaja, Dhritarashtra, all that had taken place that day, and the Maharaja ordered his servants to lead him into the pavilion where all the chieftains were gathered together. And all present were silent when they saw the Maharaja, and the Maharaja said to Draupadi: “O, daughter, my sons have done evil to you this day. But go now, you and your husbands, to your own Raj, and remember not what has occurred, and let the memory of this day be blotted out forever.” So the Pandavas made haste with their wife Draupadi, and departed out of the city of Hastinapur.

Then Duryodhana was exceeding wroth, and said to his father: “O Maharaja, is it not a saying that when your enemy hath fallen down, he should be annihilated without a war? And now we that had thrown the Pandavas to the earth and had taken possession of all their wealth, you have restored them all their strength, and permitted them to depart with anger in their hearts; and now they will prepare to make war that they may revenge themselves upon us for all that has been done and they will return within a short while and slay us all. Give us leave, then, I pray you, to play another game with these Pandavas, and let the side which loses go into exile for twelve years; for thus, and thus only, can a war be prevented between ourselves and the Pandavas.” And the Maharaja granted the request of his son, and messengers were sent to bring back the brethren, and the Pandavas obeyed the command of their uncle, and returned to his presence; and it was agreed upon that Yudhisthira should play one game more with Sakuni, and if Yudhisthira won the Kauravas were to go into exile; and that if Sakuni won, the Pandavas were to go into exile, and the exile was to be for twelve years, and one year more; and during that thirteenth year those who were in exile were to dwell in any city they pleased, but to keep themselves so concealed that the others should never discover them; and if the others did discover them before the thirteenth year was over, then those who were in exile were to continue so for another thirteen years. So they sat down again to play, and Sakuni had a set of cheating dice, as before, and with them he won the game.

When Duhsasana saw that Sakuni had won the game, he danced about for joy; and he cried out: “Now is established the Raj of Duryodhana.” But Bhima said: “Be not elated with joy, but remember my words: The day will come when I will drink your blood, or I am not the son of Kunti.” And the Pandavas, seeing that they had lost, threw off their garments and put on deer-skins, and prepared to depart into the forest with their wife and mother, and their priest Dhaumya; but Vidura said to Yudhisthira: “Your mother is old and unfitted to travel, so leave her under my care;” and the Pandavas did so, and the brethren went out from the assembly hanging down their heads with shame, and covering their faces with their garments; but Bhima threw out his long arms, and looked at the Kuravas furiously, and Draupadi spread her long black hair over her face and wept bitterly. And Draupadi vowed a vow, saying:

“My hair shall remain disheveled from this day, until Bhima shall have slain Duhsasana and drunk his blood; and then he shall tie up my hair again, whilst his hands are dripping with the blood of Duhsasana.”

Such was the great gambling match at Hastinapur in the Heroic age of India. * * *

The avenging battle subsequently ensued. Bhima struck down Duhsasana with a terrible blow of his mace, saying: “This day I fulfil my vow against the man who insulted Draupadi!” Then setting his foot on the breast of Duhsasana, he drew his sword and cut off the head of his enemy; and holding his two hands to catch the blood, he drank it off, crying out: “Ho! ho! Never did I taste anything in this world so sweet as this blood.”

Chinese.—Many gambling games have been invented by the Chinese and gambling houses are numerous in their cities and towns. Into these dens, as is the case in other countries, the inexperienced are enticed by sharpers, there to be plundered of their money. It is the old story; the sharper pretends friendship for the unsophisticated visitor and a desire to show him the notable sights. Once in the den, the victim is permitted to win a small sum, several perhaps, but the result is always the same—he is fleeced of his ready money, which may not be all his own, but entrusted to him by neighbors and friends with which to purchase goods for them. With money gone and character ruined the poor Chinaman, in many cases, becomes a vagabond, in process of time, a beggar, or a thief, and finally ends his course in suicide.

A common gambling instrument in China, consists of a circular board, some 18 inches in diameter, which is divided, either into 8 or 16 equal parts, with lines drawn from the center to the division points at the circumference. In the center is a standard, or post, some 8 inches high, upon which two or three inches from the top, is placed a slender wooden stick in such a manner as to revolve easily. At one end of this piece of wood is tied a string, which hangs down nearly to the surface of the board. Being turned by a sudden movement of the hand, the horizontal stick will continue to revolve for sometime. When it stops the string indicates the division of the board which wins. The player places his bet on any division he may favor and whirls the stick himself. If the string stops over any other place than the one upon which he placed his money, he loses. If he wins, the proprietor of the concern pays him in money, or sweetmeats, as he may prefer. This gambling device operates upon the same principle as the modern “wheel of fortune.”

Another method of gambling may be called the “literary” or “poetical.” The “banker,” or gambler proprietor, having provided himself with a table, seats himself behind it, in the street. On the table, for the inspection of those who may wish to gamble, is written a line of poetry of, say, five or seven characters, one word of which is omitted. A list of several words is furnished, anyone of which, if inserted in the blank place, will make good sense. In betting which of these words is the one omitted consists the gambling. He who guesses the right word receives five times his stake. Yet another method of gambling is this: Provided with three slender slips of bamboo, or other wood, eight or ten inches long, the gambler seats himself by the wayside and, grasping the slips at one end, holds them up so that they diverge from each other. A red tassel, or string, hanging from the hand which conceals from sight the lower ends of the slips, is supposed to be attached to one of them. He who wishes to play the game bets that he can guess the slip to which the string is attached. If he fails, he loses his stake; if he succeeds he receives back his stake and twice as much more. The game is often dishonestly operated, and the operator seldom forfeits any money. Frequently, the red string is attached to all three of the slips, but in such a way that when one of them is pulled from the hand which grasps it, it will slip off and remain on the other two. If, then, one of these is pulled, it slips again and remains attached to the one still held in the hand. Then the gambler opens his hand to show that everything has been conducted “fairly” and the thread is seen to be attached to the slip that was not drawn, thus everything seems to have been honestly managed. Of course, the man who operates deceitfully and unfairly does not allow the condition of the string on the ends of the sticks in his hand to be seen or examined at the beginning of the game.

In China, gambling is forbidden by law. It is tolerated by the government, nevertheless, and considerable sums of money are realized by it from this source. Indeed, certain magistrates at Canton once actually converted their spare rooms in their respective “yamuns” into gaming houses. But, as a rule, the dens are in back or side streets, for, there as well as here, the more respectable trades people object to such an establishment. In 1861, all the shop-keepers in a particular street in Canton closed their shops and refused to open them, until the Governor-General of the province promised to issue an order directing the district ruler to close a gambling house which he had permitted to be opened in the street. It appeared, however, that these merchants did not object to the gambling establishments on moral grounds, but through fear that their business would be injured.

There are various kinds of gaming houses in China. Some are conducted by joint-stock companies, consisting of ten or twenty partners. In such houses there are usually two apartments. In the front room is a high table, in the center of which is a small square board, the sides of which are numbered one, two, three and four. The game in this room requires the presence of three of the partners. One is called the Tan-koon, or croupier; the second, Tai-N’gan, or shroff, and sets by the side of the former with his tables, scales and money drawers; and the third, the Ho-Koon, who keeps account of the game and pays over the stakes to the rightful winners. The gamblers and their patrons assemble around the high table, on which the Tau-Koon, or croupier, places a handful of “cash,” over which he immediately puts a cover so that the gamblers cannot calculate the amount. The players are then requested to place their stakes on such side of the square as they may choose. When this has been done, the cover is removed by the croupier, who, using a thin ivory rod a foot long, proceeds to diminish the heap of coin by drawing away four pieces at a time. Should one piece remain the gambler who placed his stake on the side of the small square marked one is the winner. If two or three remain he saves his stake; if four, he loses it. This game is called Ching-low and the player has one chance of winning, two of retaining his stake and one of losing it. Another game, called Nim is played at the same table. At this game the player has one chance of winning double the amount of his stake, two of losing it and one of retaining it. Should his stake be placed on that side of the board numbered two, and two pieces of money remain of the heap after successive removals of four, his winnings are double the amount of his bet. If three pieces remain he retains his stake, but if either one or four remain he loses it. Yet a third game played at this table is called Fan, in which the player has one chance of winning three times his stake and three chances of losing it. Still another and similar game at this table is known as Kok. In it the stake is placed at a corner of the board, between two of the numbers, and if either of them corresponds to the number of pieces left of the pile of money, the player wins the amount of his stake; if either of the other two numbers corresponds he loses his bet.

In the inner apartment of these establishments, the stakes are all silver coin, and here also three of the partners are required to conduct the game. The stakes are often heavy and the money is not placed on the table for fear the vagabonds or desperate characters in the place should make a rush and seize it. The players and their stakes are therefore distinguished by corresponding cards from different packs. Because of the large sums paid monthly to the mandarins by the proprietors the expenses of the latter are very heavy and they exact from the players seven per cent. of all the winnings. Sometimes gaming establishments are started by prostitutes, but they are generally closed by the authorities as soon as detected.

One peculiar mode of gambling is called Koo-Yan, or “The Ancients,” sometimes known under the name of “Flowery Characters.” This game, it is said, originated in the department of Chun-Chow, and was introduced in the 28th year of the reign of Taou-Kwang. The term “ancients” means a number of names by which thirty-six personages of former times were known. These names are divided into nine different classes as follows:

1. Four men who attained the highest literary distinction. In a former state of existence these men were respectively a fish, a white goose, a white snail, and a peacock.

2. Five distinguished military officers. These men were once respectively a worm, a rabbit, a pig, a tiger, and a cow.

3. Six successful merchants. These were once respectively a flying dragon, a white dog, a white horse, an elephant, a wild cat, and a wasp.

4. Four persons who were conspicuousconspicuous for their uninterrupted happiness on earth. Respectively, in former state, a frog, an eagle, a monkey, and a dragon.

5. Four females. Respectively a butterfly, a precious stone, a white swallow and a pigeon.

6. Five beggars. Respectively a prawn, a snake, a fish, a deer, and a sheep.

7. Four Buddhist priests. Respectively a tortoise, a hen, an elk, and a calf.

8. Two TaouistTaouist priests. Respectively a white egret, and a yellow streaked cat.

9. The name of a Buddhist nun who, in another world, was a fox.

The company selects a person who has an aptitude for composing enigmas, to whom they pay a very large salary. New enigmas are constantly wanted, as the houses where this game is played are open twice daily, at 7 A. M. and 8 P. M. Each enigma is supposed to refer to one of the creatures enumerated. When an enigma is composed, it is printed and sold to the people, the sale of itself bringing in a considerable revenue. When the purchaser of an enigma thinks he has discovered the creature to which it refers, he writes his answer on a sheet of paper, and at the appointed hour hastens to the gambling house and gives it into the keeping of a secretary, together with the sum of money he is prepared to stake upon the correctness of his guess. When all the answers and stakes have been received, the names of those who have answered correctly are recorded by the secretary. Suspended from the roof of the chamber, where the players are assembled, is a folded scroll containing a picture of the creature to which the enigma refers. At the proper time this scroll is unfolded by the secretary, and as soon as the picture is seen it is greeted with a loud shout of exultation by the successful few and with murmurs of discontent from the many who have guessed wrong. “It is hardly necessary to add that the managers take care to provide enigmas of such ambiguous character that the majority are always wrong in their conjectures. The amount staked in these places is limited.”

Much money is lost at such establishments by ladies, but as they are not allowed to appear in public, they are represented by their female servants.

Large sums are daily lost by all classes in a game called ta-pak-up-pu, or “strike the white dove.” A company is formed of fifty partners, having equal shares. One acts as overseer, and, for reasons which will presently appear, is required to live in strict retirement. To him is given a sheet of paper on which are eighty Chinese characters, representing, respectively, heaven, earth, sun, moon, stars, etc. In his private apartment, he makes twenty of the characters with a vermilion pencil. The sheet is then deposited in a box, which is carefully locked. Thousands of sheets of paper, containing eighty similar characters, are then sold to the public. Marking ten of the eighty characters, the purchasers next morning, take their papers to the gambling establishment to have them compared with the one marked by the overseer. Before they give them up, they make and retain copies of them. When all the papers have been received, the box containing the overseer’s paper is unlocked, and when taken out, the player’s papers are compared with it. If a player has not marked more than four of the characters marked by the overseer, he receives nothing. If he has marked five, he receives seven “cash;” if six, seventy “cash;” if eight, seven dollars; and if ten, fifteen dollars. A person can buy as many as three hundred copies of the gambling sheet, but he must make them all alike. There are never more than two establishments of this kind in large cities and their winnings must be very great, judging from the number of sheets sold daily.

There are also houses in which cards are played night and day, and in them many persons are brought to ruin. To elude the vigilance of the authorities, these establishments are more or less private, but card players experience little trouble in finding such haunts. Gambling by means of oranges is also practiced at fruit stalls, the wagers being made upon the number of pips or seeds an orange may have. At fruit stalls, also, it is common to gamble for sticks of sugar cane. The cane is placed in a perpendicular position, and he who succeeds in cutting it asunder from top to bottom with a sharp edged knife, wins it from the fruitier. Should the attempt fail, the fruitier retains his cane and wins more than its value in money. Gambling by means of a joint of meat, or pork, or fish, is a very common pastime. The joint or fish is suspended from the top of a long pole and bets are taken as to its weight.

The games prevalent in Japan closely resemble those practiced in China. Cards and dice are strictly prohibited, and, although the law is said to be transgressed by the gambling houses, at home the Japanese respect it.

It is probable that the fall of Greece was due to the license that prevailed as to gaming, and consequently to all other and lesser forms of dissipation and corruption. Philip of Macedon was planning the battle of Cheronea at the very time when dicing had reached its most shameful height in Athens. Public associations existed, not for the purpose of defending Greece against her foes, but for the encouragement of the basest passions that surge in the human breast. Both Philip and Alexander knew the value to despotism of vice among the people. Alexander put a fine on those of his courtiers who did not play, for he had a jealous fear of subjects who were engaged in more serious pursuits.

But dice alone did not furnish the implements of gambling. The ancient Greeks had the equivalent of Cross and Pile, and gambled at cocking mains. The Athenian orator, Callistratus, notes the desperation of these practices when he says that the games in which the losers go on doubling their stakes “resemble ever-recurring wars, which terminate only with the extinction of the combatants.”

It was a practice of the ancients to put the invention of vicious acts or games upon foreign nations. Thus we have Plutarch’s indignant answers to Herodotus; but no Grecian ever resented the story that dice was first made by Palamedes, at the siege of Troy. Dice were called alsae by the Romans, and there were two kinds, the tali, or four-sided knucklebones, and the tesserarae or six-sided bones. The tali has four sides long-wise, the two ends were not regarded. Up one side there was an ace, or canis; on the opposite side six; on the other two sides four and three. On the tesserarae the numbers were from one to six. But on both sides of alsae or dice the numbers on the upper and lower side would make seven, as now-a-days on dice.

The game was played with three tesserarae and four tali. They were put into a box made into the form of a tower, with a straight neck—wider below than above, called fritillas turris, turricula, orca, etc. This box was shaken, and the dice was thrown upon the gaming board, forus, alvenus, tabulalus oriae. The highest or most fortunate throw was called Venus, or jactus venereus, or basilicas (the King’s throw.) It consisted of three sixes on the tesseraraetesserarae, and differing numbers, as two alike, on the tali. The worst throw, the dog throw, was called in Latin jactus pessimus, or jactus canes. In this throw, the three tesserarae must be aces, and the tali all the same number. The other throws were valued according to the numbers. Cocked dice nullified the throw, as now-a-days. While throwing the dice it was customary to name the desires of the player, and this practice still holds with negroes in their game of craps. Old men were specially fond of the game. Jacta alsa, esto! Let the die be cast! was Cæsar’s cry at the Rubicon when he betrayed the Roman republic. The law prohibited dice-playing, except in the month of December, during the Saturnalia, and the character of gamesters was then as infamous as now, although there was much gambling. The works of Horace, Cicero, Suetonius, Juvenal, Tacitus, Plautus, Varro, Ovid, Pliny, and Paulus, show by direct reference and by metaphor, the familiarity of dice in the public mind, and the evils they involved. Persius, in his satires, speaks of the practice of cogging the dice, and cheating the unwary.

Augustus, the first Roman emperor, was an habitual gambler, and, notwithstanding the laws prohibiting the practice, gambling was prevalent at Rome in all ranks of society. Although the emperor was a passionate gambler—as devoted to the vice, at least, as his cold and deliberate nature would permit—yet he was nothing if not a politician, and in frequenting the gaming table, he had motives other than cupidity. For example, he wrote Tiberius: “If I had exacted my winnings during the festival of Minerva; if I had not lavished my money on all sides, instead of losing twenty thousand sestercii (about $5,000) I should have gained 150,000 sestercii (about $37,000). I prefer it thus, however, for my bounty should win me immense ‘glory.’”

If Horace may be credited, they could “cog” a die in the Augustan age, if they could not “secure” it, as in this.

The emperor, Caligula, converted his palace into a gambling house, and while indulging his passion for play, this human monster conceived his most fiendish deeds, and resorted to falsehood and perjury in his efforts to escape the tide of ill-luck that set against him. When frenzied by losses, this wretch would vent his cruel spleen upon those about him, and to make good what he had lost he did not hesitate at murder most foul and confiscation most wanton. On one occasion, it is related, after having condemned to death several Gauls of great opulence and confiscated their wealth, he rejoined his gambling companions and exclaimed, “I pity you when I see you lose a few sestercii, whilst, with the stroke of a pen I have just won six hundred millions” (about $150,000,000). Although the author of a treatise on gambling, yet the emperor Claudius played like an imbecile. In gaming, as in all else, Nero was a veritable madman, and would stake hundreds of thousands on a single cast of the dice. In ghastly humor the imbecile, Claudius would play against the estates of his murdered victims. In his caustic description of the hypotheosis of Claudius, the great Seneca brings the emperor finally to hell, and represents him as there condemned to play at dice forever with a bottomless box, always in hope, but ever balked.

Cicero is authority for the statement that Cato, the censor, was an inveterate gambler. If so, how inappropriate the appellation which has brought to his memory an ill-deserved fame? With what consistency could a man addicted to gambling censure the conduct of his fellow man? Domitian was blamed for gaming from morning till night and without cessation even on the festival days of the Roman calendar. But this is scarcely notable in a man who was brutal in every instinct, base in every passion. In his satires Juvenal exhibits children playing dice in imitation of their fathers, and in his third satire they are represented cheating in their games. The fighting quails of the Romans are mentioned by Plutarch, and to him we are also indebted for the lament of Marc Antony, that even the very quails of Octavius Caesar were superior to his own. Was this a foreboding of the fate of Cleopatra’s lover at the battle of ActiumActium? Returning to Juvenal we find this graphic picture: “When was the madness of games of chance more furious? Nowadays, not content with carrying his purse to the gaming table, the gamester conveys his iron chest to the play room. It is there that, as soon as the gaming instruments are distributed, you witness the most terrible contests. Is it not mere madness to lose one hundred thousand sestercii, and refuse a garment to a slave perishing with cold?” This inexorable and terrible satirist was the contemporary of eleven Roman Emperors, including Domitian.

Gibbon, quoting from Ammianus Marcellinus, thus describes the situation at Rome at the end of the fourth century: “Another method of introduction into the houses and society of the ‘great’ is derived from the profession of gaming, or, as it is more politely styled, of play. The confederates are united by a strict and indissoluble bond of friendship, or rather of conspiracy. A superior degree of skill in the “tessarian” art is a sure road to wealth and reputation. A master of that sublime science who, in a supper or assembly, is placed below a magistrate, displays in his countenance the surprise and indignation which Cato might be supposed to feel when he was refused the prætorship by the votes of a capricious ‘people.’”

All authorities who mention the subject agree that gambling made fearful havoc in society and government under the Emperors, and the conclusion is irresistible, that the “decline and fall” was due in a large measure to the prevalence of this infatuating and demoralizing vice. It is asserted, on good authority, that at the epoch when Constantine abandoned Rome, never to return, every inhabitant of that city, down to the populace, were addicted to gambling.

The Greeks are to-day famous for the number of sharpers that ply their trade, both with dice and cards, but especially with cards. To cheat in this way the Greek relies on shifting the cut, which is done in many ways:

1. As the Greek lays down the pack to be cut, he is ready to seize that part of the deck which his opponent leaves on the table, and lay it on the other so that the upper part projects over the lower and toward him. This offers a niche for the insertion of the little finger of the hand which raises the pack. It is possible for a player having his little finger thus in a pack, to twirl the two parts and restore them to their original or uncut position. All that can be seen is a whirring movement, and even this cannot be seen if the hand falls for an instant beneath the table.

2. To pass the cut, the sharper replaces the top part of the deck himself, but so quickly that it is impossible to see that he puts the top part almost half way back off the deck. With the right hand he raises the misshapen pack to the palm of his left hand. As the back of his left hand obscures the vision, he clutches the forward or lower half of the pack and brings it to the top, the appearance being that he is straightening the pack, in order to deal. He now has the cards as he stocked them in the first place. This trick is called the straddle and other names.

3. A wider card is introduced from another pack, and placed exactly over the stocked portion of the deck. As this card is about half-way down, and as it offers a salient edge for the fingers, the victim usually makes the cut precisely where the sharper designed it.

4. The bridge is formed by bending half the deck convexly and the other concavely. Thus, if the other half be convex at the face of the card, it is difficult for the victim to lift any of the lower half, and he will make the cut in precisely the same place as if there were a wider card to aid him.

In dealing, the sharper can at any time retain on the top of the pack a card which he does not wish to deliver, and it is impossible to detect the cheat until after a long study of the motions of the player. When gamesters play with each other, they are constantly on the lookout for this trick, which is aided by the crimping or denting of important cards. A gambler examines his aces closely to see if his opponent has crimped them. If not, he crimps them. If two gamblers confront each other in a game where “producers” are present, the two gamblers “take the office” and cheat together, dividing stakes after the play.

The palming of cards is practiced where two of the sharpers sit together in a large game. The dealer holds a “hand” in the palm of his right hand, dealing to himself a hand at his extreme left. As he lays down the deck he lowers his left arm upon his fair “hand” and pushes it along, meanwhile pretending to pick up the “hand” which has been in the palm. The confederate stays out of the play and with his right arm receives the fair “hand” and throws it in the rejected cards along with his own hand.

The roof is a large number of cards which the sharper holds from a deck of thick cards. The decks are changed by consent from very thin faro-cards to very thick cards. At the first deal of the victim the roof is placed on in the act of cutting, and the victim cannot detect the difference in thickness because of the change of decks. Thus the victim deals himself four kings and his dishonest foe four aces. Counting the cards, he finds the deck complete. Vain in the belief of his acuteness, he bets and loses.

The cold deck is a pre-arranged pack, introduced under the tray of a waiter at the call for liquor, or carried in rear pockets called finetles. Pockets called costieres are in front. To mark the cards, the Greek will buy the stock of a tradesman and exchange the goods on some excuse, often preparing and sealing the decks. Then, at some future time, he has the satisfaction of being asked to play with cards bought by his victim, every one of which carries a mark known only to the rogue.

The Greek carries a tin-box under the fore-arm, in his coat sleeve. This is called the bag in English. Projecting from the sleeve is a pair of pincers which will seize and withdraw any card that may be desired.

Basiled cards, or strippers, were one of the most effective methods of cheating in the eighteenth century, when the secret was known only to sharpers. Strippers are made by cutting the cards so that they are wider at one end than at the other. Now, if one of the cards be turned, it will present, at the narrower end of the deck, the feeling of a wide card, and can be stripped out of the deck in a twinkling. In the hands of an expert, the basil may be scarcely perceptible to the touch, and the further advantage of a variety of basils may be obtained. Thus, with a convex basil or ax-like edge, the gambler may feel for a court card, while with a convex basil, or razor-like edge, he may detect a low card. Thus he may cut high or low with only a few cards turned, and those by accident in the hands of his victim. Basiled cards cannot be detected without a delicate touch and close scrutiny, implying suspicion and inviting a quarrel if the rogue be vicious, as none is so jealous of his honor as a thief.

The chapelet is an arrangement or stock of cards by the order of certain words. One of the oldest chapelets is found in Latin, and each word means a certain card of the pack of fifty-two.

The poverty, squalor and filth among the Turks and the Greeks is due, in a considerable degree, to gambling. Men gamble away their money, their merchandise, their household, their clothes, and not infrequently they hazard themselves, on the chance of a die.

“One of my sudri, or carriers,” writes a gentleman to us, “when I was going from Jenidscheh up into the Rhodope mountains, had lost himself in this way and had become the property of a wealthy ‘Broussa’ merchant, but on the death of the latter he again became free and resumed his precarious gambling life. That is only one instance out of hundreds to be found in the Turkish Peninsula, of men becoming so degraded by this mad passion for gaming.

“I remember once stopping at a street corner in Zante, the capital of the Island of Currants, the Zacynthus of the ancients, and watching a party of ragged idlers, who had chosen a shady corner of a colonnade as they played ‘comboloio.’ The ‘comboloio’ is a rosary, or bead string, and the game is played with the loose beads and a ‘Kanate’ or earthen jar, with a long, narrow neck, generally used for water. I didn’t understand the rationale of the game, but it seemed to consist of betting on which of the colored beads would come out successively, after being shaken up in the ‘Kanate.’ Presently one of the party went off to fetch some wine and I strolled away down to the harbor. I had occasion to pass the same spot in the evening, about dusk, or rather the short twilight that answers to dusk in those latitudes, and the group was still there, rolling the colored beads out of the water vessel, and passing little copper coins to and fro. They were always good humored and merry. Indeed, amongst the lower classes in Greece, and particularly amongst these loafers of the street, one rarely meets with any strong display of feeling over losses or gains at play. They have become largely imbued with the spirit of the Turk, and take everything that comes with a dull resignation to fate. There are few large gambling houses in Greece, as far as I know, but every town has plenty of little ‘dens’ and ‘joints’ where gaming is openly practiced and allowed.

“The spirit of hazard is inherent in the Greek, and everywhere one finds the dice box, the wheel, the ‘Koulai,’ or card tables. Cheating is regarded, I will not say as legitimate, but at least as justifiable. If a man is fool enough to allow himself to be cheated, he must suffer the consequences, and his acceptance of these consequences is always graceful and blended with a sort of admiration for the cheater. Speaking of this, I remember seeing in the museum at Athens (I think it was) a number of the Kanatii mentioned above, with false bottoms carefully fitted to them. They are a standing puzzle to the ceramist. If they were used simply as vessels for holding water or wine, the use of these false bottoms seems inexplicable, but I believe this was only a device used by the gamblers in the game of ‘comboloio.’

“The American gentleman, traveling in Greece, had better beware of sitting down at the card table with delicate handed Greeks. He is sure to be invited wherever he goes, and unless he knows his company well, he is sure to lose his money, no matter how skilled he may be in the tricks common to the fraternity in his native land in the west; and if he should take a hand and find that he is being plucked, the only way is to ignore it, and withdraw from the game at an opportune moment. It would never do to treat the Greek in the manner that certain parties once treated Ah Sin when playing ‘The game he did not understand.’ Everywhere, through the Grecian Islands, one will find these dens kept by Levantines and Greeks, and fitted up with all the modern paraphernalia of gambling.

“This is the most beautiful part of Europe. The waves of the glorious Mediterranean wash eternally on the ‘Shores of the old Romance.’ No spot of the land, or the sea, but has a history, a legend, or a poem. Here in old Salonica, the seven-towered citadel, once the Acropolis, still watches o’er the town, its rugged cliff facing Mount Olympus across the gulf. Down below, in the town itself, is many a temple, but little attended since the days when Olympus was the abode of the gods. What a great pity that the people should have become so degraded.