and are almost dazzled by the glaring splendour
of it. From the ceiling, adorned with pictures,
hang dark bronze chandeliers bearing numberless
lights, multiplied again and again by the
magnificent looking-glasses placed at each end of
the gorgeous chamber. A long range of high
windows, separated from each other by splendid
marble columns, open to a view on the park.
All the curtains, draperies, and furniture are of
dark red velvet. And there is a little too much
gilding, as one might expect.

In the middle of this hall are placed two oblong
tables, with a space of fifteen yards between
them, both covered with green cloth: one of
them is the roulette, the other the trente-et-un
table. Let nobody think of a gambling-table as
a board surrounded by men in despair. During
thirty years' acquaintance with the German
gaming haunts, I have not witnessed one violent
scene, nor heard even a shriek. What I have
seen, has, with a few trifling exceptions, been
much more ludicrous than tragical. There do
occur shocking catastrophes; but very rarely
in the gambling-house itself. The agents of the
Spielpachter keep a sharp eye on all desperate
people likely to be inconsiderate enough to
injure the reputation of the bank by publicly
expressing their despair.

The tables are densely crowded by people of
both sexes who have the outward appearance of
fine ladies and gentlemen. It is true that many
of them look pale and worn, but we are at a
watering-place to which visitors are supposed to
come chiefly for the recruiting of their health.
Some have an ugly roguish look, but we know
many honest gentlemen afflicted with the same.
Some are flushed, but the room is warm, and
nobody can help feeling a little excited by a
mere following of the chances of the game.
Most of the people we observe are smiling, or
appear indifferent, and the handsome ladies are
coquetting. The highest aim of our education
is with many to be able to conceal the passions
working in us. It requires a tolerably high
talent for observation to be able to look through
this curtain of assumed indifference, and get at
the agitated minds of these unhappy fools.

In the centre of the table before the four
croupiers, facing each other, are piled up small
paper rolls of gold, and heaps of gold and silver.
The whole tableau is spread with gold and silver,
the stakes of the punters. As many of them as
have room sit at the table; these are generally
the old players, and their game is best worth
following. Many of these have before them
little printed tickets, upon which they mark
with a pin after each coup whether it was red
or black. It is a foolish amusement, held to be
important as a means of finding out the system
upon which accident works in this game, in
order to form certain rules for the direction of
the speculator. The only sure system of winning
is that followed by the bank.

There is no loud talking in this hall, people
speak with each other in whispers. There is
the stillness of a church with the air of a
ballroom. Only the priests of this unhallowed
temple dare to speak aloud, and the ivory ball
is to be heard turning in the disk, until it clicks
against some metal points in it before falling
into its rest. The monotonous " Faites votre
jeu" (Make your game), " Rien ne va plus"
(No stake admitted now), " Trente-deux; noir;
pair et passe," is repeated from morning to
night; even the money falls without noise on
the green cloth when dexterously thrown to a
winner by one of the croupiers.

These croupiers are all alike. They have a
tired, hang-dog expression. They are paid either
by the day or the year. Those who attend to the
roulette received, when the house opened in
Homburg, one hundred and twenty pounds a
year, and at the trente-et-un, one hundred and
sixty pounds. After 1848 their pay was raised
to two hundred and two hundred and fifty
pounds. Most of them are ruined gamblers;
or persons unable to get on in the world, who
become hardened to the disgrace of their new
calling. They are despised and even hated by
the gamblers. Their position as regards the
public is that of a player's servant in old times,
whose very touch was a pollution. Their
masters of course do not trust them more than
they can help; they watch them closely, and set
over them other rogues as spies. In spite of
this vigilance many of these fellows manage to
rob the robber. One of them was in the habit
of taking a pinch of snuff after each coup, from a
snuff-box which was standing before him. At
the bottom of the box was some adhesive stuff,
so that as often as its owner put it down upon
a single or double louis d'or, this was secured.
Another wore very high and stiff collars, that one
cannot help touching very often if they do not fit
exactly. Nobody thought anything about the old
croupier's frequent jerking at his uncomfortable
collars. At each jerk, however, he contrived
to slip behind his high collar a gold piece, which
slid down into a belt worn by him over the
shirt.

One of the croupiers occasioned a great deal
of confusion by counterfeiting the gold rolls
used at the bank. He covered a round stick of
lead, and sealed it with the signet of the bank,
of which he had taken an impression. Since
that time the gold rolls are ripped open in the
middle to expose the gold inside.

These croupiers form, however, only an inferior
part of the staff of the bank; most of them
come from Paris. Everybody knows them as
servants of the banker, and distrusts them. The
more important servants are not recognised so
easily. They are to be found not only in
Homburg. We may meet them in the saloons and
clubs in Paris, London, Vienna, Petersburg,
and at other places, where the rich and the idle
congregate. They are the pensioners of the
bank, paid either by the year or by a share in
any plunder obtained by their means. Most of
them are ruined gamblers, or other adventurers
of either sex. A genteel air is their necessary
qualification. In Homburg particularly it is
well to distrust fine and amiable gentlemen,
and all the more for their high-sounding names