thou mightest have lived in them to thyself, to thy friends, to God; and remember that it is all lost, worse than lost, from those days, for every one of which thou must give an account.

2. An inseparable concomitant of the cardtable is intellectual dissipation.

The writer of these remarks numbers it among the mercies of God, that he has seldom, very seldom indeed, been placed in circumstances which compelled him to witness the operation of cards or dice on the minds of those engaged. He has seen enough, however, to satisfy him perfectly of their baneful influence. Can any thing be more debasing or contemptible, than that men and women, qualified to bear a respectable part in conversation, and even to adorn the social circle, should descend from the elevation of their own good sense to the level of every stupid thing, male and female, that can giggle or swear over a pack of cards! Religion out of the question, this is no scene for understanding. Leave it to the coxcomb and the coquet, to the sharper and the fool; but let not a man or woman of cultivated mind be dishonored by taking a hand. The very atmosphere which surrounds them is poison, at once to the intellect and the heart. It were much to be wished, that some who have imperceptibly learned to degrade their lips with the jargon of the gamester, could occasionally get such a re

Mr.

proof as the celebrated Locke administered to certain British noblemen. "One day, three or four of these lords having met at Lord Ashley's,. when Mr. Locke was there; after some compliments, cards were brought in before scarce any conversation had passed between them. Locke looked upon them for some time, while they were at play; and, taking his pocket-book, began to write with great attention. One of the lords observing him, asked him what he was writing? 'My lord,' says he 'I am endeavoring to profit, as far as I am able, in your company : for having waited with impatience for the honor of being in an assembly of the greatest geniuses of this age, and at last having obtained the good fortune, I thought I could not do better than write down your conversation; and indeed, I have set down the substance of what has been said for this hour or two.' Mr. Locke had no occasion to read much of this conversation: those noble persons saw the ridicule of it; and diverted themselves with improving the jest. They quitted their play, and entering into rational discourse, spent the rest of their time in a manner more suitable to their character."* If a similar record were made of the conversation of our card-parties, and published to the world, the ridicule would be intolerable: and if it should not deter men and women of sense from play forever afterwards, it would at least

* Life of Mr. Locke, prefixed to his works, p. 22, 8vo.

show how perfectly, for the sake of this paltry pastime, they confound themselves with the most arrant fools in nature.

"When blockheads," says a writer who will not be accused of bigotry, "when blockheads rattle the dice-box, when fellows of vulgar and base minds sit up whole nights contemplating the turn of a card, their stupid occupation is in character; but whenever a cultivated understanding stoops to the tyranny of so vile a passion, the friend to mankind sees the injury to society with that sort of aggravation as、 would attend the taking of his purse on the highway, if upon the seizure of the felon he was unexpectedly to discover the person of a judge."*

3. Play for amusement leads to and perpetuates the whole system of gaming for money.

Very few, if any, learn to play with the design of becoming gamblers. But the progress to this issue is both natural and common. Knowledge of the cards is only a polite accomplishment, and an occasional hand no more than mere civility. What was acquiescence in the first stage becomes choice in the second, and passion in the third. A cent, a sixpence, or a quarter dollar, merely to keep up the spirit of the game, is all that many plead for or allow. The sum is indeed too trifling to be an objection, but are they aware of the principle? Do not

*The Observer, by Richard Cumberland, No. 22.

the languor of the game without and its animation with the aid of this pecuniary stimulus, very strongly mark its tendency? Is not here the commencement of a course which carries the adventurer along with accelerated step to deep and fatal stakes? Let it not be said that the sober circles, which are the object of these strictures, never permit and would be among the first to resist such extremes. They put it seems a rolling body on the top of a declivity, set it a going, and stop it before it reaches the bottom! An admirable expedient! Is there no danger of its slipping through their hands, or of acquiring a velocity which they cannot check? There is a much better method-Never set it on the declivity at all! Plainly. Can these moderate and cautious players be sure that none of those whom they train up in what they term innocent pastime, shall ever fall in with others who have less scruple? Have they never heard of a youth who received the rudiments of his gaming education from his circumspect friends, becoming, in consequence of this very acquisition, the companion of vile associates, and the victim of their crimes? Have they never heard of an unhappy fair one, initiated in the mystery of the cardtable under her father's roof, being hurried away with the maddening fascination till her virtue and her peace were the price of redemption for her forfeited purse?

Such things have been, and such things may again be. The very possibility of their recurrence should inspire every one who values honor, truth, and purity, with a detestation of the sports which conduct to them, and impel him to lift up his voice and his example against their introduction or use in any shape or any circumstances. The amusement which they can afford will be a miserable compensation for a ruined wife or daughter, son, or brother, or sister. Considering the snares which beset the inexperienced foot, all the vigilance of parents and friends is little enough to keep our youth, the hope of our land, from error and harm.

It is neither right nor kind; it is wrong, and sinful, and cruel, to fit them for the most profligate company and deeds. Nothing does this more effectually than an acquaintance with games of chance; for there is no dissipated assemblage to which it is not a recommendation. To have the dearest parts of ourselves in a state of complete readiness for the most alluring temptation to the worst of crimes, is, to say the least of it, notwithstanding every safeguard, a mostdangerous qualification. Keep them ignorant of cards and dice, and you erect the strongest human barrier against the seductions of gaming. Teach them the art, and that barrier is thrown down; thrown down by your own hands; thrown down to the breaking of your own heart; and