The laws of luck
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The laws of luck
Richard A. Proctor
Laws of Luck
To the student of science, accustomed to recognise the
operation of law in all phe-nomena, even though the nature of the law and the manner of
its operation may beunknown, there is something strange in the prevalent belief
in luck. In the operationsof nature and in the actions of men, in commercial
transactions and in chance games,the great majority of men recognise the prevalence of
something outside law—thegood fortune or the bad fortune of men or of nations, the
luckiness or unluckinessof special times and seasons—in fine (though they would hardly
admit as much inwords), the influence of something extranatural if not
supernatural. [For to the manof science, in his work as student of nature, the word
‘natural’ implies the action oflaw, and the occurrence of aught depending on what men mean
by luck would besimply the occurrence of something
supernatural.]This is true alike of great
thingsand of small; of matters having a certain dignity, real or
apparent, and of matterswhich seem utterly contemptible.Napoleon
announcing that a certain star (as hesupposed) seen in full daylight
washisstar and indicated at the moment
the ascen-dency of his fortune, or William the Conqueror proclaiming,
as he rose with handsfull of earth from his accidental fall on the Sussex shore,
that he was destined byfate to seize England, may not seem comparable with a gambler
who says that heshall win because he is in the vein, or with a player at
whist who rejoices that thecards he and his partner use are of a particular colour, or
expects a change from badto good luck because he has turned his chair round thrice;
but one and all are alikeabsurd in the eyes of the student of science, who sees law,
and not luck, in all thingsthat happen. He knows that Napoleon’s imagined star was the
planet Venus, boundto be where Napoleon and his officers saw it by laws which it
had followed for pastmillions of years, and will doubtless follow for millions of
years to come.He knowsthat William fell (if by accident at all) because of certain
natural conditions affect-ing him physiologically (probably he was excited and over
anxious) and physically,not by any influence affecting him
extranaturally.But he sees equally well that
thegambler’s superstitions about ‘the vein,’ the ‘maturity of
the chances,’ about luckand about change of luck, relate to matters which are not
only subject to law, butmay be dealt with by processes of calculation. He recognises
even in men’s belief inluck the action of law, and in the use which clever men like
Napoleon and Williamhave made of this false faith of men in luck, a natural
result of cerebral development,of inherited qualities, and of the system of training which
such credulous folk havepassed through.Let us consider, however, the general idea which most men
have respecting whatthey call luck.We shall find that what they
regard as affording clear evidence thatthere is such a thing as luck is in reality the result of
law.Nay, they adopt such acombination of ideas about events which seem fortuitous that
the kind of evidencethey obtain must have been obtained, let events fall as they
may.Let us consider the ideas of men about luck in gambling, as
typifying in small theideas of nearly all men about luck in life.In the first place, gamblers recognise some men as always
lucky. I do not mean, ofcourse, that they suppose some men always win, but that some
men never have spellsof bad luck.They
arealways‘in the vein,’ to use the
phraseology of gamblers likeSteinmetz and others, who imagine that they have reduced
their wild and wanderingnotions about luck into a science.Next, gamblers recognise those who start on a gambling career
with singular goodluck, retaining that luck long enough to learn to trust in it
confidently, and thenlosing it once for all, remaining thereafter constantly
unlucky.Thirdly, gamblers regard the great bulk of their community as
men of varyingluck—sometimes in the ‘vein’ sometimes not—men who, if they
are to be successful,must, according to the superstitions of the gambling world,
be most careful to watchthe progress of events. These, according to Steinmetz, the
great authority on all suchquestions (probably because of the earnestness of his belief
in gambling superstitions),may gamble or not, according as they are ready or not to obey
the dictates of gamblingprudence. When they are in the vein they should gamble
steadily on; but so soon as
‘the maturity of the chances’ brings with it a change of luck
they must withdraw. Ifthey will not do this they are likely to join the crew of the
unlucky.Fourthly, there are those, according to the ideas of
gamblers, who are pursued byconstant ill-luck. They are never ‘in the vein.’ If they win
during the first half of anevening, they lose more during the latter half. But usually
they lose all the time.Fifthly, gamblers recognise a class who, having begun
unfortunately, have had achange of luck later, and have become members of the lucky
fraternity. This changethey usually ascribe to some action or event which, to the
less brilliant imaginationsof outsiders, would seem to have nothing whatever to do with
the gambler’s luck.For instance, the luck changed when the man married—his wife
being a shrew; orbecause he took to wearing white waistcoats; or because
so-and-so, who had been asort of evil genius to the unlucky man, had gone abroad or
died; or for some equallypreposterous reason.Then there are special classes of lucky or unlucky men, or
special peculiarities ofluck, believed in by individual gamblers, but not generally
recognised.Thus there are some who believe that they are lucky on
certain days of the week,and unlucky on certain other days.The skilful
whist-player who, under the name
‘Pembridge,’ deplores the rise of the system of signals in
whist play, believes that heis lucky for a spell of five years, unlucky for the next five
years, and so on continually.Bulwer Lytton believed that he always lost at whist when a
certain man was at thesame table, or in the same room, or even in the same
house.And there are othercases equally absurd.Now, at the outset, it is to be remarked that, if any large
number of persons set towork at any form of gambling—card play, racing, or whatever
else it may be—theirfortunesmustbe such, let the
individual members of the company be whom theymay, that they will be divisible into such sets as are
indicated above. If the numbersare only large enough, not one of those classes, not even the
special classes mentionedat the last, can fail to be represented.Consider, for instance, the following simple illustrative
case:—Suppose a large number of persons—say, for instance, twenty
millions—engage insome game depending wholly on chance, two persons taking part
in each game, so thatthere are ten million contests.Now, it is
obvious that, whether the chances in eachcontest are exactly equal or not, exactly ten millions of the
twenty millions of personswill rise up winners and as many will rise up losers, the
game being understood tobe of such a kind that one player or the other must win. So
far, then, as the resultsof that first set of contests are concerned, there will be ten
million persons who willconsider themselves to be in luck.Now, let the same twenty millions of persons engage a second
time in the sametwo-handed game, the pairs of players being not the same as
at the first encounter,but distributed as chance may direct. Then there will be ten
millions of winners andten millions of losers.Again, if we consider the
fortunes of the ten million winnerson the first night, we see that, since the chance which, each
one of these has of beingagain a winner is equal to the chance he has of
losing,aboutone-half of the
winningten millions of the first night will be winners on the second
night too.Nor shall wededuce a wrong general result if, for convenience, we
sayexactlyone-half; so long
aswe are dealing with very large numbers we know that this
result must be near thetruth, and in chance problems of this sort we require (and
can expect) no more. Onthis assumption, there are at the end of the second contest
five millions who havewon in both encounters, and five millions who have won in the
first and lost in thesecond.The other ten millions, who lost in the
first encounter, may similarly bedivided into five millions who lost also in the second, and as
many who won in thesecond.Thus, at the end of the second encounter,
there are five millions of playerswho deem themselves lucky, as they have won twice and not
lost at all; as many whodeem themselves unlucky, having lost in both encounters;
while ten millions, or halfthe original number, have no reason to regard themselves as
either lucky or unlucky,having won and lost in equal degree.Extending our investigation to a third
contest,we find that 2,500,000 will beconfirmed in their opinion that they are very
lucky,since they will have won inall three encounters; while as many will have lost in all
three, and begin to regardthemselves, and to be regarded by their fellow-gamblers, as
hopelessly unlucky.Ofthe remaining fifteen millions of players, it will be found
that 7,500,000 will have wontwice and lost once, while as many will have lost twice and
won once.(There willbe 2,500,000 who won the first two games and lost the third,
as many who lost thefirst two and won the third, as many who won the first, lost
the second, and won thethird, and so on through the six possible results for these
fifteen millions who hadmixed luck.) Half of the fifteen millions will deem themselves
rather lucky, while theother half will deem themselves rather
unlucky.None, of course, can have had
evenluck, since an odd number of games has been
played.Our 20,000,000 players enter on a fourth series of
encounters.At its close thereare found to be 1,250,000 very lucky players, who have won in
all four encounters,and as many unlucky ones who have lost in all four. Of the
2,500,000 players who hadwon in three encounters, one-half lose in the fourth; they
had been deemed lucky, butnow their luck has changed.So with the 2,500,000
who had been thus far unlucky:one-half of them win on the fourth trial.We have
then 1,250,000 winners of threegames out of four, and 1,250,000 losers of three games out of
four. Of the 7,500,000who had won two and lost one, one-half, or 3,750,000, win
another game, and must beadded to the 1,250,000 just mentioned, making three million
winners of three gamesout of four.The other half lose the fourth game,
giving us 3,750,000 who have hadequal fortunes thus far, winning two games and losing
two.Of the other 7,500,000,who had lost two and won one, half win the fourth game, and
so give 3,750,000 morewho have lost two games and won two: thus in all we have
7,500,000 who have hadequal fortunes. The others lose at the fourth trial, and give
us 3,500,000 to be addedto the 1,250,000 already counted, who have lost thrice and
won once only.At the close, then, of the fourth encounter, we find a million
and a quarter ofplayers who have been constantly lucky,and as
many who have been constantlyunlucky.Five millions, having won three games
out of four, consider themselves tohave better luck than the average; while as many, having lost
three games out of four,regard themselves as unlucky.Lastly, we have
seven millions and a half who havewon and lost in equal degree.These, it will be
seen, constitute the largest part ofour gambling community, though not equal to the other classes
taken together. Theyare, in fact, three-eighths of the entire
community.So we might proceed to consider the twenty millions of
gamblers after a fifthencounter, a sixth, and so on. Nor is there any difficulty in
dealing with the matter inthat way. But a sort of account must be kept in proceeding
from the various classesconsidered in dealing with the fourth encounter to those
resulting from the fifth, fromthese to those resulting from the sixth, and so
on.And although the accounts thusrequiring to be drawn up are easily dealt with, the little
sums (in division by two,and in addition) would not present an appearance suited to
these pages. I thereforenow proceed to consider only the results, or rather such of
the results as bear mostupon my subject.After the fifth encounter there would be (on the assumption of
results being alwaysexactly balanced, which is convenient, and quite near enough
to the truth for ourpresent purpose) 625,000 persons who would have won every
game they had played,and as many who had lost every game. These would represent
the persistently luckyand unlucky men of our gambling community. There would be
625,000 who, havingwon four times in succession, now lost, and as many who,
having lost four times insuccession, now won. These would be the examples of luck—good
or bad—continuedto a certain stage, and then changing. The balance of our
20,000,000, amounting toseventeen millions and a half, would have had varying degrees
of luck, from those whohad won four games (not the first four) and lost one, to those
who had lost four games(not the first four) and won but a single
game.The bulk of the seventeen millionsand a half would include those who would have had no reason
to regard themselves aseither specially lucky or specially unlucky. But 1,250,000 of
them would be regardedas examples of a change of luck, being 625,000 who had won
the first three gamesand lost the remaining two, and as many who had lost the first
three games and wonthe last two.Thus, after the fifth game, there would be only 1,250,000 of
those regarded (forthe nonce) as persistently lucky or unlucky (as many of one
class as of the other),while there would be twice as many who would be regarded by
those who knew oftheir fortunes, and of course by themselves, as examples of
change of luck, markedgood or bad luck at starting, and then bad or good
luck.So the games would proceed, half of the persistently lucky up
to a given game goingout of that class at the next game to become examples of a
change of luck, so thatthe number of the persistently lucky would rapidly diminish
as the play continued.So would the number of the persistently unlucky continually
diminish, half going outat each new encounter to join the ranks of those who had long
been unlucky, but hadat last experienced a change of fortune.After the twentieth game, if we suppose constant exact
halving to take place asfar as possible, and then to be followed by halving as near
as possible, there would beabout a score who had won every game of the twenty. No amount
of reasoning wouldpersuade these players, or those who had heard of their
fortunes, that they were notexceedingly lucky persons—not in the sense of being lucky
because theyhadwon,but of beinglikelier to winat any
time than any of those who had taken part in thetwenty games. They themselves and their friends—ay, and their
enemies too—wouldconclude that they ‘could not lose.’ In like manner, the
score or so who had not wona single game out of the twenty would be judged to be most
unlucky persons, whomit would be madness to back in any matter of pure
chance.Yet—to pause for a moment on the case of these apparently
most manifest examples
of persistent luck—the result we have obtained has been to show
that inevitablythere must be in a given number of trials about a score of
these cases of persistentluck, good or bad, and about two score of cases where both
good and bad are countedtogether.We have shown that, without imagining
any antecedent luckiness, goodor bad, there must be what, to the players themselves, and to
all who heard of orsaw what had happened to them, would seem examples of the
most marvellous luck.Supposing, as we have, that the game is one of pure chance,
so that skill cannot in-fluence it and cheating is wholly prevented, all betting men
would be disposed to say,
‘These twenty are persons whose good luck can be depended on;
we must certainlyback them for the next game: and those other twenty are
hopelessly unlucky; we maylay almost any odds against their winning.’But it should hardly be necessary to say that that
whichmusthappen cannotbe regarded as due to luck.There must
besomeset of twenty or so out of
ourtwenty millions who will win every game of twenty; and the
circumstance that thishas befallen such and such persons no more means that they
are lucky, and is nomore a matter to be marvelled at, than the circumstance that
one person has drawnthe prize ticket out of twenty at a lottery is marvellous, or
signifies that he would bealways lucky in lottery drawing.The question whether those twenty persons who had so far been
persistently luckywould be better worth backing than the rest of the twenty
millions, and especiallythan the other twenty who had persistently lost, would in
reality be disposed of atthe twenty-first trial in a very decisive way: for of the
former score about half wouldlose, while of the latter score about half would win. Among a
thousand persons whohad backed the former set at odds there would be a heavy
average of loss; and thelike among a thousand persons who had laid against the latter
set at odds.It may be said this is assertion only, that experience shows
that some men arelucky and others unlucky at games or other matters depending
purely on chance, andit must be safer to back the former and to wager against the
latter.The answer isthat the matter has been tested over and over again by
experience, with the resultthat, as`a priorireasoning had
shown, some men are bound to be fortunate again andagain in any great number of trials, but that these are no
more likely to be fortunateon fresh trials than others, including those who have been
most unfortunate.Thesuccess of the former shows only that theyhave
been, not that theyarelucky;
whilethe failure of the others shows that
theyhavefailed, nothing
more.An objection will—about here—have vaguely presented itself to
believers in luck,viz. that, according to the doctrine of the ‘maturity of the
chances,’ which must applyto the fortunes of individuals as well as to the turn of
events, one would rather expectthe twenty who had been so persistently lucky to lose on the
twenty-first trial, andthe twenty who had lost so long to win at last in that event.
Of course, if gamblingsuperstitions might equally lead men to expect a change of
luck and continuanceof luck unchanged, one or other view might fairly be expected
to be confirmed byevents. And on a single trial one or other event—that is, a
win or a loss—mustcomeoff, greatly to the gratification of believers in luck. In one
case they could say, ‘I toldyou so, such luck as A’s was bound to pull him through
again’; in the other, ‘I toldyou so, such luck was bound to change’: or if it were the
loser of twenty trials who wasin question, then, ‘I told you so, he was bound to win at
last’; or, ‘I told you so, suchan unlucky fellow was bound to lose.’ But unfortunately,
though the believers in luckthus run with the hare and hunt with the hounds, though they
are prepared to findany and every event confirming their notions about luck, yet
when a score of trialsor so are made, as in our supposed case of a twenty-first
game, the chances are thatthey would be contradicted by the event.The
twenty constant winners would notbe more lucky than the twenty constant losers; but neither
would they be less lucky.The chances are that about half would win and about half
would lose.If one whoreally understands the laws of probability could be supposed
foolish enough to wagermoney on either twenty, or on both, he would unquestionably
regard the betting asperfectly even.Let us return to the rest of our twenty millions of players,
though we need by nomeans consider all the various classes into which they may be
divided, for the numberof these classes amounts, in fact, to more than a
million.The great bulk of the twenty millions would consist of
players who had won aboutas many games as they had lost.The number who
had wonexactlyas many gamesas they had lost would no longer form a large proportion of
the total, though it wouldform the largest individual class.There would be
nearly 3,700,000 of these, whilethere would be about 3,400,000 who had won eleven and lost
nine, and as many whohad won nine and lost eleven; these two classes together
would outnumber the winnersof ten games exactly, in the proportion of 20 to 11 or
thereabouts. Speaking generally,it may be said that about two-thirds of the community would
consider they had hadneither good luck nor bad, though their opinion would depend
on temperament inpart. For some men are more sensitive to losses than to
gains, and are ready to speakof themselves as unlucky, when a careful examination of their
varying fortunes showsthat they have neither won nor lost on the whole, or have won
rather more than theyhave lost.On the other hand, there are some who
are more exhilarated by successthan dashed by failure.The number of those who, having begun with good luck, had
eventually been somarkedly unfortunate, would be considerable.It
might be taken to include all whohad won the first six games and lost all the rest, or who had
won the first seven orthe first eight, or any number up to, say, the first fourteen,
losing thence to the end;and so estimated would amount to about 170, an equal number
being first markedlyunfortunate, and then constantly fortunate. But the number
who had experienced amarked change of luck would be much greater if it were taken
to include all who hadwon a large proportion of the first nine or ten games and lost
a large proportion ofthe remainder, orvice versˆa. These two classes
of players would be well represented.Thus, then, we see that, setting enough persons playing at
any game of purechance, and assuming only that among any large number of
players there will beabout as many winners as losers, irrespective of luck, good
or bad, all the five classeswhich gambling folk recognise and regard as proving the
existence of luck,mustinevitably make their appearance.Even any special class which some believer in luck, who was
more or less fanciful,imagined he had recognised among gambling folk, must
inevitably appear among ourtwenty millions of illustrative players. For example, there
would be about a score ofplayers who would have won the first game, lost the second,
won the third, and so onalternately to the end; and as many who had also won and lost
alternate games, buthad lost the first game; some forty, therefore, whose fortune
it seemed to be to winonly after they had lost and to lose only after they had
won.Again, about twentywould win the first five games, lose the next five, win the
third five, and lose the lastfive; and about twenty more would lose the first five, win the
next, lose the third five,and win the last five: about forty players, therefore, who
seemed bound to win andlose always five games, and no more, in
succession.Again, if anyone had made a prediction that among the players
of the twentygames there would be one who would win the first, then lose
two, then win three,then lose four, then win five, and then lose the remaining
five—and yet a sixth ifthe twenty-first game were played—that prophet would certainly
be justified by theresult. For about a score would be sure to have just such
fortunes as he had indicatedup to the twentieth game, and of these, nine or ten would be
(practically) sure to winthe twenty-first game also.Wesee,then,thatallthedifferentkindsofluck—good,bad,indifferent,orchanging—which believers in luck recognise,are
bound to appear when any con-siderable number of trials are made; and all the varied ideas
which men have formedrespecting fortune and her ways are bound to be
confirmed.It may be asked by some whether this is not proving that
there is such a thingas luck instead of over-throwing the idea of luck. But such a
question can only arisefrom a confusion of ideas as to what is meant by
luck.If it be merely asserted thatsuch and such men have been lucky or unlucky, no one need
dispute the proposition;for among the millions of millions of millions of purely
fortuitous events affectingthe millions of persons now living, it could not but chance
that the most remarkablecombinations, sequences, alternations, and so forth, of
events, lucky or unlucky, musthave presented themselves in the careers of hundreds. Our
illustrative case, artificialthough it may seem, is in reality not merely an illustration
of life and its chances,but may be regarded as legitimately demonstrating what must
inevitably happen onthe wider arena and amid the infinitely multiplied
vicissitudes of life. But the beliefin luck involves much more. The idea involved in it, if not
openly expressed (usuallyexpressed very freely), is that some men are lucky by nature,
others unlucky, thatsuch and such times and seasons are lucky or unlucky, that
the progress of events maybe modified by the lucky or unlucky influence of actions in no
way relating to them;as, for instance, that success or failure at cards may be
affected by the choice of aseat, or by turning round thrice in the
seat.This form of belief in luck is not
onlyakin to superstition,
itissuperstition.Like all
superstition, it is mischievous.It is,indeed, the very essence of the gambling spirit, a spirit so
demoralising that it blindsmen to the innate immorality of gambling. It is this belief
in luck, as something whichcan be relied on, or propitiated, or influenced by such and
such practices, which isshown, by reasoning and experience alike, to be entirely
inconsistent not only withfacts but with possibility.But oddly enough, the believers in luck show by the form
which their belief takesthat in reality they have no faith in luck any more than men
really have faith insuperstitions which yet they allow to influence their
conduct.A superstition is anidle dread, or an equally idle hope, not a real faith; and in
like manner is it withluck.A man will tell you that at cards, for
instance, he always has such and suchluck; but if you say, ‘Let us have a few games to see whether
you will have yourusual luck,’ you will usually find him unwilling to let you
apply the test.If you tryit, and the result is unfavourable, he argues that such
peculiarities of luck never doshow themselves when submitted to test. On the other hand, if
it so chances that onthat particular occasion he has the kind of luck which he
claims to havealways, heexpects you to accept the evidence as
decisive.Yet the result means in reality
onlythat certain events, the chances for and against which were
probably pretty equallydivided, have taken place.So, if a gambler has the notion (which seems to the student
of science to implysomething little short of imbecility of mind) that turning
round thrice in his chair willchange the luck, he is by no means corrected of the
superstition by finding the processfail on any particular occasion.But if the bad
luck which has hitherto pursued himchances (which it is quite as likely to do as not) to be
replaced by good or even bymoderate luck, after the gambler has gone through the mystic
process described, orsome other equally absurd and irrelevant manœuvre, then the
superstition is con-firmed. Yet all the time there is no real faith in it. Such
practices are like the absurdinvocation of Indian ‘medicine men’; there is a sort of vague
hope that somethinggood may come of them, no real faith in their
efficacy.The best proof of the utter absence of real faith in
superstitions about luck, evenamong gambling men, the most superstitious of mankind, may be
found in the incon-gruity of their two leading ideas. If there are two forms of
expression more frequentlythan any others in the mouth of gambling men, they are those
which relate to beingin luck or out of luck on the one hand, and to the idea that
luck must change on theother.Professional gamblers, like Steinmetz and
his kind, have become so satisfiedthat these ideas are sound, whatever else may be unsound, in
regard to luck, thatthey have invented technical expressions to present these
theories of theirs, failingutterly to notice that the ideas are inconsistent with each
other, and cannot both beright—though both may be wrong, and are so.A player is said to be ‘in the vein’ when he has for some
time been fortunate. Heshould only go on playing, if he is wise, at such a time, and
at such a time only shouldhe be backed.Having been lucky he is likely,
according to this notion, to continuelucky. But, on the other hand, the theory called ‘the
maturity of the chances’ teachesthat the luck cannot continue more than a certain time in one
direction; when it hasreached maturity in that direction it must change. Therefore,
when a man has been
‘in the vein’ for a certain time (unfortunately no Steinmetz
can say precisely howlong), it is unsafe to back him, for he must be on the verge
of a change of luck.Of course the gambler is confirmed in his superstition,
whichever event may befallin such cases.When he wins he applauds himself
for following the luck, or for dulyanticipating a change of luck, as the case may be; when he
loses, he simply regretshis folly in not seeing that the luck must change, or in not
standing by the winner.And with regard to the idea that luck must change, and that
in the long run eventsmust run even, it is noteworthy how few gambling men
recognise either, on the onehand, how inconsistent this idea is with their belief in luck
which may be trusted (or,in their slang, may be safely backed), or, on the other hand,
the real way in whichluck ‘comes even’ after a sufficiently long run.A man who has played long with success goes on because he
regards himself aslucky. A man who has played long without success goes on
because he considers thatthe luck is bound to change.The latter goes on
with the idea that, if he only playslong enough, he must at least at some time or other recover
his losses.Now there can be no manner of doubt that if a man, possessed
of sufficient means,goes on playing for a very long time, his gains and losses
will eventually be very nearlyequal; assuming always, of course, that he is not
swindled—which, as we are dealingwith gambling men, is perhaps a sufficiently bold
assumption.Yet it by no meansfollows that, if he starts with considerable losses, he will
ever recover the sum he hasthus had to part with, or that his losses may not be
considerably increased.Thissounds like a paradox; but in reality the real paradox lies
in the opposite view.This may be readily shown.The idea to be controverted is this: that if a gambler plays
long enough there mustcome a time when his gains and his losses are exactly
balanced.Of course, if thiswere true, it would be a very strong argument against
gambling; for what but loss oftime can be the result of following a course which must
inevitably lead you, if you goon long enough, to the place from which you
started?But it is not true.If it
weretrue, of course it involves the inference that, no matter
when you enter on a course ofgambling, you are bound after a certain time to find yourself
where you were at thatbeginning. It follows that if (which is certainly possible)
you lose considerably in thefirst few weeks or months of your gambling career, then, if
you only play long enoughyou must inevitably find yourself as great a loser, on the
whole, as you were when youwere thus in arrears through gambling losses; for your play
may be quite as properlyconsidered to have begun when those losses had just been
incurred, as to have begunat any other time.Hence this idea that, in the
long run, the luck must run even,involves the conclusion that, if you are a loser or a gainer
in the beginning of yourplay, you must at some time or other be equally a gainer or
loser. This is manifestlyinconsistent with the idea that long-continued play will
inevitably leave you neither aloser nor a gainer. If, starting from a certain point when
you are a thousand poundsin arrears, you are certain some time or other, if you only
play long enough, to havegained back that thousand pounds, it is obvious that you are
equally certain sometime or other (from that same starting-point) to be yet
another thousand pounds inarrears. For there is no line of argument to prove you must
regain it, which will notequally prove that some time or other you must be a loser by
that same amount, overand above what you had already lost when beginning the games
which were to putyou right.If, then, you are to come straight,
you must be able certainly to recovertwo thousand pounds, and by parity of reasoning four
thousand, and again twice that;and so onad infinitum: which is manifestly
absurd.The real fact is, that while the laws of probabilities do
undoubtedly assure thegambler that his losses and gains will in the long run be
nearly equal, the kind ofequality thus approached is not an equality of actual amount,
but of proportion.Iftwo men keep on tossing for sovereigns, it becomes more and
more unlikely, the longerthey toss, that the difference between them will fall short of
any given sum.If theygo on till they have tossed twenty million times, the odds
are heavily in favour ofone or the other being a loser of at least a thousand
pounds.But the proportion ofthe amount won by one altogether, to the amount won
altogether by the other, isalmost certain to be very nearly a proportion of equality.
Suppose, for example, thatat the end of twenty millions of tossings, one player is a
winner of 1,000l., then hemust have won in all 10,000,500l., the other having won in
all 9,999,500l. the ratio ofthese amounts is that of 100005 to 99995, or 20001 to 19999.
This is very nearly theratio of 10000 to 9999, or is scarcely distinguishable,
practically, from actual equality.Now if these men had only tossed eight times for sovereigns,
it might very well havehappened that one would have won five or six times, while the
other had only wonthrice or twice.Yet with a ratio of 5 to 3, or 3
to 1, against the loser, he wouldactually be out of pocket only 2l. in one case and
4l. in the other; while in the othercase, with a ratio of almost perfect equality, he would be
the loser of a thousandpounds.But now it might appear that, after all, this is proving too
much, or, at any rate,proves as much on one side as on the other; for if one player
loses the other mustgain; if a certain set of players lose the rest gain: and it
might seem as though, withthe prevalent ideas of many respecting gambling games, the
chance of winning werea sufficient compensation for the chance of
losing.Where a man is so foolish that the chance of having more
money than he wants isequivalent in his mind (or what serves him for a mind) to the
risk of being deprived ofthe power of getting what is necessary for himself and for
his family, such reasoningmay be regarded as convincing. For those who weigh their
wants and wishes rightly,it has no value whatever.On the contrary it may
be shown that every wager orgambling transaction, by a man of moderate means, definitely
reduces the actualvalue of his possessions, even if the wager or transaction be
a fair one. If a man whohas a hundred pounds available to meet his present wants
wagers 50l.against 50l.,or an equal chance, he is no longer worth 100l.
Hemay, when the bet is decided, beworth 150l., or he may be worth only 50l. All he
canestimatehis property at is
about87l. Supposing the other man to be in the same position, they
are both impoverishedas soon as they have made the bet; and when the wager is
decided, the average valueof their possessions in ready money is less than it was; for
the winner gains less byhaving his 100l.raised to 150l.(or
increased as 2 to 3), than the loser suffers byhaving his ready money halved.Similar remarks apply to participation in lottery schemes, or
the various forms ofgambling at places like San Carlo. Every sum wagered means,
at the moment whenit is staked, a depreciation of the gambler’s property; and
would mean that, evenif the terms on which the wagering were conducted were
strictly fair.But this isnever the case. In all lotteries and in all established
systems of gambling certain oddsare always retained in favour of those who work the lottery
or the gambling system.These odds make gambling in either form still more injurious
to those who take partin it. Winners of course there are, and in some few cases
winners may retain a largepart of their gains, or at any rate expend them otherwise
than in fresh gambling. Yetit is manifest that, apart from the circumstance that
theeffectsof the gambling
gainsof one set of persons never counterbalance
theeffectsof the gambling losses of
others,there is always a large deduction to be made on account of
the wild and reckless wasteof money won by gambling. In many cases, indeed, large
gambling gains have broughtruin to the unfortunate winner:set ‘on
horseback’ by lightly acquired wealth, andunaccustomed to the position, he has ridden ‘straightway to
the devil.’But the greed for chance-won wealth is so great among men of
weak minds, andthey are so large a majority of all communities, that the
bait may be dangled forthem without care to conceal the hook. In all lotteries and
gambling systems whichhave yet been known the hook has been patent, and the evil it
must do if swallowedshould have been obvious. Yet it has been swallowed
greedily.A most remarkable illustration of the folly of those who
trust in luck, and the coolaudacity of those who trust in such folly, with more reason
but with more rascality,is presented by the Louisiana Lottery in
America.This is the only lottery of thekind now permitted in America.Indeed, it is
nominally restricted to the State ofLouisiana; but practically the whole country takes part in
it, tickets being obtainableby residents in every State of the Union.The
peculiarity of the lottery isthe calmadmission, in all advertisements, that it is a gross and
unmitigated swindle.Theadvertisements announce that each month 100,000 tickets will
be sold, each at fivedollars, shares of one-fifth being purchasable at one
dollar.Two commissioners—Generals Early and Beauregard—control the drawings; so that
we are told, and maywell believe, the drawings are conducted with fairness and
honesty, and in good faithto all parties.So far all is
well.We see that each month,if all the
tickets aresold, the sum of 500,000 dols. will be paid
in.From this monthly payment we mustdeduct 1,000 dols. paid to each, of the commissioners, and
perhaps some 3,000 dols.at the outside for advertising. We may add another sum of
5,000 dols. for incidentalexpenses, machinery, sums paid to agents as commission on the
sale of tickets, and soforth. This leaves 490,000 dols. monthly if all the tickets
are sold. And as the lotteryis ‘incorporated by the State Legislature of Louisiana for
charitable and educationalpurposes,’ we may suppose that a certain portion of the sum
paid in monthly will beset aside to represent the proceeds of the concern, and
justify the use of so degradinga method of obtaining money.Probably it might be
supposed that 24 per cent. perannum, or 2 per cent. per month, would be a fair return in
this way, the system beingentirely free from risk. This would amount to 9,800 dols., or
say 10,000 dols., monthly.Those who manage the lottery are not content, however, with
any such sum as this,which would leave 480,000 dols. to be distributed in prizes.
They distribute 215,000dols. less, the total amount given in prizes amounting to
only 265,000 dols.If the100,000 tickets are all sold—and it is said that few are ever
left—the monthly profiton the transaction is not less than 225,000 dols., or 45 per
cent. on the total amountreceived per month. This would correspond to 540 per cent.
per annum if it were paidon a capital of 500,000 dols. But in reality it amounts to
much more, as the lotterycompany runs no risk whatsoever. The Louisiana Lottery is a
gross swindle, besidesbeing disreputable in the sense in which all lotteries are
so. What would be thoughtif a man held an open lottery, to which each of one hundred
persons admitted paid5l., and taking the sum of 500l. thus collected,
were to say: ‘The lottery, gentlemengamblers, will now proceed; 265l