of the British aristocracy in Lord Chesterfield's day and later were so obsessed by the spirit of gaming that some of them undoubtedly preferred playing against sharpers to not playing at all. A large number of unscrupulous individuals made their fortunes out of this destructive craze.

A hundred years ago and later the West End of London was full of gambling houses, some of them of a very dubious description.

The proprietors of these hells were very cunning in their methods, and besides making a parade of as much gold as could be brought into the field, folded up their bank-notes, from one to one hundred, in the most attractive and tempting form, and laid them in admirable array on the table. They were experts in knowing how to display their forces, so much so, that whenever a bank-note was sent into the pocket of a pigeon, it might be considered as on a voyage of discovery, whence it would be sure to return increased and multiplied to a certain extent. Some of the houses had notes issued by particular bankers wholly for their service. They found them more convenient than the ordinary ones, being drawn for guineas instead of pounds.

Flattery then, as now, was the most efficacious weapon of sharpers. "If," once said one of these gentry, "I wanted to catch one simpleton, I would hook him with a bribe; if I wished to catch twenty, I would bait them with promises; but if I desired to catch a hundred, I would poison them with flattery."

The following is a complete list of West End gaming resorts between 1810 and 1828:

No. 10 St. James' Square and 40 Pall Mall, known as "Rougier's" from the name of the proprietor, were also
gaming houses. At the latter the stakes varied from 5s. to £100.

f.h. French hazard; r.n. rouge et noir; r. roulette; u.d.c. un, deux, cinque; e.h. English hazard.
games were of course occasionally played.

Other

Each player was supposed to confine himself within the limits specified above, though, as may be imagined, they were often departed from.

These hells, generally, were fitted up in a very splendid style, and their expenses were very great. Those of Crockford's, known as Fishmongers' Hall, were not less than one thousand pounds a week. The next in eminence, one hundred and fifty pounds a week; and the minor ones of all (with the exception of those where English hazard was played, the expenses of which were trifling) varied from forty to eighty pounds.

The inspectors, or overlookers, were paid from six to eight pounds a week each; the "croupiers," or dealers, three to six pounds; the waiters and porters, two pounds, and a looker-out after the police officers, to give warning of their approach, two pounds also.

In order to safeguard themselves against unpleasant visits from the authorities the hells were well fortified with strong iron-plated doors, to make an ingress to them a difficult and tardy matter. There was one at the bottom of the stairs, one near the top, and a third at the entrance to the room of play. These were opened and closed one after the other, as a person ascended or descended. In each of the doors there was a little round glass peep-hole, for the porters to take a bird's-eye view of all persons desirous of admittance, in order to keep out or let in whom they chose. Sometimes the gaming-house keepers were robbed by their employés—one was swindled by his son. He was a partner in the management of No. 75 St. James'

* Full details of the games played and anecdotes of the principal frequenters are given in the author's Light Come, Light Go, published last year.

Street, and, on going into the country, left one of two sons in charge of his interests in the concern. He was a gay, wild young man, and he had formed acquaintances with the players of his father's hell, as thoughtless as himself. The young man used, occasionally, to deal. It was agreed that two of his acquaintances should come, prepared with a little money, in order to play upon some sure coups that he would pack for the purpose. The cue was given when they were coming off. This was practised a few times before it was found out. Upon its being detected a despatch was sent off to the father, who came to town immediately. The son remained in disgrace with his father a long time afterwards.

The existence of so many gaming houses, at not a few of which the play was open to suspicion, of course produced a certain amount of crime and also of suicide.

The most curious instance of this (said by some to have been unintentional) happened in the year 1818. A Polish nobleman, who received his income from home quarterly, took lodgings in Bury Street, St. James', and soon began regularly to lose his income in the hells, which sprang up in that locality like mushrooms.

A week after his allowance had arrived he was generally without a guinea, after which he depended upon the goodness of his landlady for all that he required, she being regularly paid out of the next quarter's receipt. This Count was quite a sinecure to No. 5 King Street, where he constantly played. His landlady, who knew that he gambled, and often