and deserving of meditation.

Forty or fifty years ago--that is, within the memory of many a
living man--gambling was `the rage' in England, especially in the
metropolis. Streets now meaningless and dull--such as Osendon
Street, and streets and squares now inhabited by the most
respectable in the land--for instance, St James's Square, THEN
opened doors to countless votaries of the fickle and capricious
goddess of Fortune; in the rooms of which many a nobleman, many a
gentleman, many an officer of the Army and Navy, clergymen,
tradesmen, clerks, and apprentices, were `cleaned out'--ruined,
and driven to self-murder, or to crimes that led to the gallows.
`I have myself,' says a writer of the time, `seen hanging in
chains a man whom a short time before I saw at a Hazard table!'

History, as it is commonly written, does not sufficiently take
cognizance of the social pursuits and practices that sap the
vitality of a nation; and yet these are the leading influences in
its destiny--making it what it is and will be, at least through
many generations, by example and the inexorable laws that preside
over what is called `hereditary transmission.'

Have not the gambling propensities of our forefathers
influenced the present generation? . . . .

No doubt gambling, in the sense treated of in this book, has
ceased in England. If there be here and there a Roulette or
Rouge et Noir table in operation, its existence is now known
only to a few `sworn-brethren;' if gambling at cards `prevails'
in certain quarters, it is `kept quiet.' The vice is not