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‘I have heard of one gentleman； indeed； who； after a ruinous
loss； put a pistol to his head； and discharging it； spattered his
brains over the Roulette wheel。 It was said that the banker；
looking up calmly； called out‘_Triple Zero；' ‘Treble
Nothing_；'a case as yet unheard of in the tactics of Roulette；
but signifying annihilation；and that； a cloth being thrown over
the ensanguined wheel； the bank of that particular table was
declared to be closed for the day。 Very probably the whole story
is but a newspaper _canard_； devised by the proprietors of some
rival gaming establishment； who would have been delighted to see
the fashionable Hombourg under a cloud。
‘When people want to commit suicide at Hombourg； they do it
genteelly； early in the morning； or late at night； in the
solitude of their own apartments at the hotels。 It would be
reckoned a gross breach of good manners to scandalize the refined
and liberal administration of the Kursaal by undisguised _felo…
de…se_。 The devil on two _croupes_ at Hombourg is the very
genteelest of demons imaginable。 He ties his tail up with
cherry…coloured ribbon； and conceals his cloven foot in a patent…
leather boot。 All this gentility and varnish； and elegant
veneering of the sulphurous pit； takes away from him； if it does
not wholly extinguish； the honour and loathing for a common
gaming…house； with which the mind of a wellured English
youth has been sedulously imbued by his parents and guardians。
He has very probably witnessed the performance of the
〃Gamester〃 at the theatre； and been a spectator of the
remorseful agonies of Mr Beverly； the virtuous sorrows of
Mrs B。； and the dark villanies of Messieurs Dawson and Bates。
‘The first visit of the British youth to the Kursaal is usually
paid with fear and trembling。 He is with difficulty persuaded to
enter the accursed place。 When introduced to the saloons
delusively called _de conversation_； he begins by staring fixedly
at the chandeliers； the ormolu clocks； and the rich draperies；
and resolutely averts his eyes from the serried ranks of punters
or players； and the Pactolus； whose sands are circulating on the
green cloth on the table。 Then he thinks there is no very great
harm in looking on； and so peeps over the shoulder of a
moustached gamester； who perhaps whispers to him in the interval
between two coups； that if a man will only play carefully； and be
content with moderate gains； he may win sufficienttaking the
good days and the evil days in a lumpto keep him in a decent
kind of affluence all the year round。 Indeed； I once knew a
croupierwe used to call him Napoleon； from the way he took
snuff from his waistcoat pocket； who was in the way of expressing
a grave conviction that it was possible to make a capital
living at Roulette； so long as you stuck to the colours； and
avoided the Scylla of the numbers and the Charybdis of the Zero。
By degrees； then； the shyness of the neophyte wears off。 Perhaps
in the course of his descent of Avernus； a revulsion of feeling
takes place； and； horror…struck and ashamed； he rushes out of the
Kursaal； determined to enter its portals no more。 Then he
temporizes； remembers that there is a capital reading…room；
provided with all the newspapers and periodicals of civilized
Europe； attached to the Kursaalian premises。 There can be no
harm； he thinks； in glancing over 〃Galignani〃 or the
〃Charivari；〃 although under the same roof as the abhorred
_Trente et Quarante；_ but； alas！ he finds _Galignani_ engaged by
an acrid old lady of morose countenance； who has lost all her
money by lunch…time； and is determined to 〃take it out in
reading；〃 and the _Charivari_ slightly clenched in one hand by
the deaf old gentleman with the dingy ribbon of the Legion of
Honour； and the curly brown wig pushed up over one ear； who
always goes to sleep on the soft and luxurious velvet couches of
the Kursaal reading…room； from eleven till three； every day；
Sundays not excepted。 The disappointed student of home or
foreign news wanders back to one of the apartments where
play is going； on。 In fact； he does not know what to do
with himself until table…d'hote time。 You know what the moral
bard； Dr Watts says：
〃Satan finds some mischief still；
For idle hands to do。〃
The unfledged gamester watches the play more narrowly。 A stout
lady in a maroon velvet mantle； and a man with a bald head； a
black patch on his occiput； and gold spectacles； obligingly makes
way for him。 He finds himself pressed against the very edge of
the table。 Perhaps a chairone of those delightfully
comfortable Kursaal chairsis vacant。 He is tired with doing
nothing； and sinks into the emolliently…cushioned _fauteuil_。 He
fancies that he has caught the eye of the banker； or one of the
gentlemen of the _croupe_； and that they are meekly inviting him
to try his luck。 〃Well； there can't be much harm in risking a
florin；〃 he murmurs。 He stakes his silver…piece on a number or
a colour。 He wins； we will say； twice or thrice。 Perhaps he
quadruples his stake； nay； perchance； hits on the lucky number。
It turns up； and he receives thirty…five times the amount of his
_mise_。 Thenceforth it is all over with that ingenuous
British youth。 The Demon of Play has him for his own； and he may
go on playing and playing until he has lost every florin of his
own； or as many of those belonging to other people as he can beg
or borrow。 Far more fortunate for him would it be in the long
run； if he met in the outset with a good swinging loss。 The
burnt child _DOES_ dread the fire as a rule； but there is this
capricious； almost preternatural； feature of the physiology of
gaming； that the young and inexperienced generally win in the
first instance。 They are drawn on and on； and in and in。 They
begin to lose； and continue to lose； and by the time they have
cut their wise teeth they have neither sou nor silver to make
their dearly…bought wisdom available。
‘At least one…half of the company may be assumed to be arrant
rascalsrascals male and rascals female_chevaliers
d'industrie_； the offscourings of all the shut…up gambling…houses
in Europe； demireps and _lorettes_； single and married women
innumerable。'
In the course of the three visits he has paid to Hombourg； Mr
Sala has observed that ‘nine…tenths of the English visitors to
the Kursaal； play；' and he does not hesitate to say that the
moths who flutter round the garish lamps at the Kursaal Van
der Hohe； and its kindred Hades； almost invariably singe their
wings； and that the chaseer at _Roulette_ and _Rouge_； generally
turn out edged tools； with which those incautious enough to play
with them are apt to cut their fingers； sometimes very
dangerously。
The season of 1869 in Hombourg is thus depicted in a high class
newspaper。
‘Never within the memory of the oldest inhabitant （who in this
instance must undoubtedly be that veteran player Countess
Kisselef） ha