In the second book, wherein he discusses the essentials of play—le Jeu—he distinguishes three kinds of games: 1, Games of pure skill; 2, Games of pure chance; and, 3, Games which depend partly on skill and partly on chance. Games of skill are those which depend on manual dexterity, bodily agility, or mental acuteness: Billiards, Racket, Quoits, Cricket, Draughts, and Chess are of this kind. Games of pure chance are those in which the event, though brought about by the instrumentality of the players, is yet absolutely beyond their direction or control: of this kind are Dice, and certain games at cards, such as Basset, Brelan, Lansquenet, Rouge-et-Noir, and Faro. In the third kind, such as Backgammon and most of the usual games at cards, [331] the effects of chance may in some degree be counteracted by a skilful application of principles derived from a knowledge of the various combinations which result from the conventional rules of the game. In all games for any considerable stake, that is, with regard to the means of the parties, it is necessary that the players should be as nearly as possible equal in point of skill; for, in this case, the game becomes a kind of traffic, and is subject to all the conditions of an equitable contract.
Most persons who play for high stakes, either at games of pure chance or of chance and skill combined, make more or less a traffic of their amusement; and risk their own money from a desire of winning that of another. In all such cases, gaming is a positive evil to society, and is utterly inexcusable, much less justifiable, on any grounds whatever; and all who thus venture large sums may be justly required to show by what right they possess them. When a fool or a knave is thus stripped of a large property, his loss is a matter of small import to society; the true evil is, that so large a portion of national wealth, created by the industry of others, should be at the disposal of such a character, and should be allowed to pass, on such a contract, to another even more worthless than himself. This objection has not been urged in any of the numerous sermons and essays that have been published against gaming; the authors of which, generally, instead of showing that society has both the power and the right to correct such abuses by depriving the offending parties of the means of continuing them, have contented themselves with declamations on the wickedness of the pursuit, and with vain appeals to the conscience of inveterate gamesters: while they whistle to the deaf adder, they never seem to suspect that it may be easily dispatched with a stick.—But such abuses in society are never remedied till the Heraclidæ acquire a knowledge of their rights, as well as a consciousness of their power.
The appeal to the vanity of men of "rank and education" [332] in order to shame them out of their love of play is as futile in its effects as it is wrong in principle; for it tends only to nourish in them feelings of self-conceit, and to induce them to think rather of the deficiencies of the low-born men, whose money they are eager to win, than to consider their own dereliction of duty, in playing for large sums, with any one. At the gaming-table, a community of feeling levels all the artificial distinctions of rank; and the rude plebeian who covers the high-born noble's stake is just as good, for all intents and purposes of play, as that noble himself. The condescension of the noble to play with a costermonger for the sake of winning his money, is fully compensated by the other's willingness to afford him a chance. The annals of gaming sufficiently show that rank is no guarantee of a gamester's honesty; and in the case of Lord De Ros versus Cumming, tried before Lord Denman, 10th of February, 1837, it would appear that the rank of the fraudulent gamester screened him for several years, with one party at least, from being denounced. Sir William Ingilby, in his examination, stated that he had seen Lord De Ros perform the trick of reversing the cut, and thus secure himself an ace or a king for the turn-up card, at least fifty times; and that he first observed his lordship do it "about four, five, or six years ago." When asked why he did not denounce Lord De Ros after he had become aware of his fraudulent tricks, he gives the following answer: "I did not mention the matter publicly for this reason:—I considered that if an obscure and humble individual like myself, not possessed of his rank, were to attempt to go up to a peer of the realm, who held a high station in society, and who at the same time was regarded by all his associates, and by the world in general, as a man of unimpeachable character, and say, 'My lord, you are cheating;' if, I say, I, that humble individual, had addressed Lord De Ros in these terms,—if I had denounced a peer of the realm, and a man of such general popularity, I should instantly have gathered around me a host of persons; and I take it, as a matter of course, I should have had no choice between the door and the window." Notwithstanding that the honorable baronet was aware of the fraudulent practice of the right honorable peer, it seems that he still continued to play with him; but it does not appear that he was particularly attentive to his lordship's trick of reversing the cut,—sauter la coupe,—when he had him for a partner. [333] If Sir William Ingilby's fears were well founded, it seems reasonable to conclude that those who would have "pitched him out of the window," for exposing the fraudulent tricks of a peer, must have been persons of similar character to the party denounced; and that their conduct in such a case would not have been influenced by a regard for the honour of a peer of the realm, but would rather have been the result of the vexation which they felt at the public exposure of one of their own stamp. On this trial, one of the witnesses admitted that he had won £35,000 at cards in the course of fifteen years. This is certainly a large sum, but nothing to be compared to the winnings of some men by their gambling in railway shares within the last ten years. Lord De Ros failed in his action; the fact of cheating which had been alleged against him having been clearly proved. He did not long survive the disgraceful exposure; and Theodore Hook is said to have embalmed his memory in the following epitaph: "Here lies England's Premier Baron patiently awaiting the last TRUMP." [334]
On the question of the lawfulness of playing at cards for the sake of amusement, and not from the mere desire of gain, many persons of eminent piety have held the affirmative in their writings; and a far greater number of the same class have testified, by their practice, their concurrence in the same opinion. "Many fierce declamations," says Jeremy Taylor, "from ancient sanctity have been uttered against cards and dice, by reason of the craft used in the game, and the consequent evils, as invented by the Devil. And, indeed, this is almost the whole state of the question; for there are so many evils in the use of these sports, they are made trades of fraud and livelihood, they are accompanied so with drinking and swearing, they are so scandalous by blasphemies and quarrels, so infamous by misspending precious time, and the ruin of many families, they so often make wise men fools and slaves of passion, that we may say of those who use them inordinately, they are in an ocean of mischief, and can hardly swim to shore without perishing.... He can never be suspected in any criminal sense to tempt the Divine Providence, who by contingent things recreates his labour, and having acquired his refreshment hath no other end to serve, and no desires to engage the Divine Providence to any other purpose.... A man may innocently, and to good purposes go to a tavern, but they who frequent them have no excuse, unless their innocent business does frequently engage, and their severe religion bring them off safely. And so it is in these sports; there is only one cause of using them, and that comes but seldom, the refreshment, I mean, of myself or my friend, to which I minister in justice or in charity; but when our sports come to that excess, that we long and seek for opportunities; when we tempt others, are weary of our business, and not weary of our game; when we sit up till midnight, and spend half days, and that often too; then we have spoiled the sport,—it is not a recreation, but a sin.... He that means to make his games lawful, must not play for money, but for refreshment. This, though few may believe, yet is the most considerable thing to be amended in the games of civil and sober persons. For the gaining of money can have no influence in the game to make it the more recreative, unless covetousness holds the box.... But when money is at stake, either the sum is trifling, or it is considerable. If trifling, it can be of no purpose unless to serve the ends of some little hospitable entertainment or love-feast, and then there is nothing amiss; but if considerable, a wide door is opened to temptation, and a man cannot be indifferent to win or lose a great sum of money, though he can easily pretend it. If a man be willing or indifferent to lose his own money, and not at all desirous to get another's, to what purpose is it that he plays for it? If he be not indifferent, then he is covetous or he is a fool: he covets what is not his own, or unreasonably ventures that which is. If without the money, he cannot mind his game, then the game is no divertisement, no recreation, but the money is all the sport, and therefore covetousness is all the design; but if he can be recreated by the game alone, the money does but change it from lawful to unlawful, and the man from being weary to become covetous; and from the trouble of labour or study, remove him to the worse trouble of fear, or anger, or impatient desires. Here begins the mischief, here men begin for the money to use vile arts; here cards and dice begin to be diabolical, when players are witty to defraud and undo one another; when estates are ventured, and families are made sad and poor by a luckless chance. And what sport is it to me to lose my money, if it be at all valuable? and if it be not, what is it to my game? But sure the pleasure is in winning the money; that certainly is it. But they who make pastime of a neighbour's ruin, are the worst of men, said the comedy. But concerning the loss of our money, let a man pretend what he will, that he plays for no more than he is willing to lose, it is certain that we ought not to believe him; for if that sum is so indifferent to him, why is not he easy to be tempted to give such a sum to the poor? Whenever this is the case, he sins, that games for money beyond an inconsiderable sum. Let the stake be nothing, or almost nothing, and the cards or dice are innocent, and the game as innocent as push-pin.... In plays and games, as in other entertainments, we must neither do evil, nor seem to do evil; we must not converse with evil persons, nor use our liberty to a brother's prejudice or grief. We must not do anything, which he, with probability, or with innocent weakness, thinks to be amiss, until he be rightly instructed; but where nothing of these things intervene, and nothing of the former evils is appendant, we may use our liberty with reason and sobriety: and then, if this liberty can be so used, and such recreations can be innocent, as they assuredly may, there is no further question, but those trades, which minister to these divertisements, are innocent and lawful." [335]
Nelson, the pious author of the 'Fasts and Festivals of the Church of England,' and of the 'Practice of True Devotion,' had no objection to cards. "Sober persons," says he, in the last-mentioned work, "do not make a business of what they should only use as a diversion." The Rev. Augustus Toplady, so well known for his high Calvinistic principles, used to occasionally amuse himself with a game at cards; and in a letter dated "Broad Hembury, Nov. 19th, 1773," he thus expresses himself on the subject of recreations in which clergymen may innocently indulge. [336]
"I do not think that honest Martin Luther committed sin by playing at Backgammon for an hour or two after dinner in order, by unbending his mind, to promote digestion.
"I cannot blame the holy martyr Bishop Ridley for frequently playing at Tennis before he became a prelate, nor for playing at the more serious game of Chess twice a day after he was made a bishop.
"As little do I find fault with another of our most exemplary martyrs, the learned and devout Mr. Archdeacon Philpot; who has left it on record as a brand on Pelagians of that age, that 'they looked on honeste pastyme as a sinne;' and had the impudence to call him an Antinomian and a loose moralist, because he now and then relaxed his bow with 'huntinge, shootynge, bowlynge, and such like.'
"Nor can I set down pious Bishop Latimer for such an enemy to holiness of life on account of his saying that hunting is a good exercise for men of rank, and that shooting is as lawful an amusement for persons of inferior class.