Games of chance.
Games with dice, cards, and the like, wherein the gain depends chiefly upon chance, are not only dangerous recreations, as dancing is, but are also games utterly evil and blameworthy in their nature. Wherefore they are forbidden by the laws, both civil and ecclesiastical. But what great harm is there in them? you will say to me. I answer you that gain in these games is not made according to reason, but according to chance, which very often favours him whose skill and ability deserve nothing. Reason, then, is offended thereby. But we have agreed to it, you will say to me? this is good to show that he who wins does no wrong to the others; but it does not prevent the agreement from being unreasonable, nor the game either; for gain, which ought to be the reward of industry, becomes the reward of chance, which deserves no reward, since it depends in no wise upon us.
Besides this, these games bear the name of recreation, and are made for that end; and yet they are not so at all, but are violent occupations; for is it not an occupation to have the mind strained by continual application, and perpetually agitated by anxiety, fear, and eagerness? Is there any attention in the world more sad, more gloomy, and more melancholy than that of gamblers? one must neither speak during the game, nor laugh, nor cough, else they are beside themselves.
Games with dice, cards, and the like, wherein the gain depends chiefly upon chance, are not only dangerous recreations, as dancing is, but are also games utterly evil and blameworthy in their nature. Wherefore they are forbidden by the laws, both civil and ecclesiastical. But what great harm is there in them? you will say to me. I answer you that gain in these games is not made according to reason, but according to chance, which very often favours him whose skill and ability deserve nothing. Reason, then, is offended thereby. But we have agreed to it, you will say to me? this is good to show that he who wins does no wrong to the others; but it does not prevent the agreement from being unreasonable, nor the game either; for gain, which ought to be the reward of industry, becomes the reward of chance, which deserves no reward, since it depends in no wise upon us.
Besides this, these games bear the name of recreation, and are made for that end; and yet they are not so at all, but are violent occupations; for is it not an occupation to have the mind strained by continual application, and perpetually agitated by anxiety, fear, and eagerness? Is there any attention in the world more sad, more gloomy, and more melancholy than that of gamblers? one must neither speak during the game, nor laugh, nor cough, else they are beside themselves.
Finally, there is no joy in these games save in winning; and is not that joy sinful, since it presupposes another’s loss and displeasure? Such pleasure is surely unworthy. These are the three reasons why wicked games are forbidden. The great king Saint Louis, hearing that the Count of Anjou, his brother, and Sir Gautier de Nemours were playing together, rose, though ill, and went, staggering, to their chamber; there he seized the tables, the dice, and part of the money, and threw them all into the sea, being greatly angered with them. The virtuous and chaste Sarah, speaking to God of her innocence: “Thou knowest,” said she, “O Lord! I have never been in the company of gamblers.”