eing
somewhat of a spendthrift? But go on, old fellow, what more have you to
say against gambling--for you have not yet convinced me?"

"Hold on a bit. Let me pare off just a morsel of my monkey's nose--
there, that's about as near perfection as is possible in a monkey. What
a pity that he has not life enough to see his beautiful face in a glass!
But perhaps it's as well, for he would never see himself as others see
him. Men never do. No doubt monkeys are the same. Well now,"
continued Blunt, again laying down the stick, and becoming serious, "try
if you can see the matter in this light. Two gamblers meet. Not
blacklegs, observe, but respectable men, who nevertheless bet much, and
play high, and keep `books,' etcetera. One is rich, the other poor.
Each wishes ardently to gain money from his friend. This is a somewhat
low, unmanly wish, to begin with; but let it pass. The poor one has a
wife and family to keep, and debts to pay. Many thousands of men, ay,
and women, are in the same condition, and work hard to pay their debts.
Our poor gambler, however, does not like work. He prefers to take his
chance at gambling; it is easier, he thinks, and it is certainly, in a
way, more exciting than work. Our rich gambler has no need to work, but
he also likes excitement, and he loves money. Neither of these men
would condescend for one moment to ask a gift of money from the other,
yet each is so keen to obtain his friend's money that they agree to
stake it on a chance, or on the issue of a contest. For one to _take_
the money from the other, who does not wish to part with it, would be
unfair and wrong, of course; but their agreement gets rid of the
difficulty. It has not altered the _conditions_, observe. Neither of
them wishes to give up his money, but an arrangement has been come to,
in virtue of which one consents to be a defrauder, and the other to be
defrauded. Does the agreement make wrong right?"

"I think it does, because the gamblers have a right to make what
agreement they please, as it is between themselves."

"Hold there, Dick. Suppose that the poor man loses. Is it then between
themselves? Does not the rich gambler walk away with the money that was
due to the poor one's butcher, baker, brewer, etcetera?"

"But the rich one did not know that. It is not his fault."

"That does not free the poor gambler from the dishonourable act of
risking money which was not his own; and do you really think th