The _impiegati_, or officials who keep them, are all men of sound principles and devotional habits, fervent adherents of the Pope, and habitual communicants.

Lotteries too can be defended on abstract religious grounds, as encouraging a simple faith in providence, and dispelling any overwhelming confidence in your own unsanctified exertions.

When you have made these reflections, you have only got to tell the clerk what sum of money you want to stake, and on what numbers.
The smallest contribution (from eleven baiocchi or about sixpence upwards) will be thankfully received.

A long whity-brown slip of paper is given you, with the numbers written on it, and the sum you may win marked opposite.

No questions whatever, about name or residence or papers, are asked, as they are whenever you want to transact any other piece of business in Rome; and all you have to do, is to keep your slip of paper, and come back on the Saturday to learn whether your numbers have been drawn or not.
There is, in truth, a ludicrous side to the Papal Lotteries; but there is also a very sad one.