"I learn with delight," writes Hobhouse from Cambridge, May 12, 1808, "from Scrope Davies, that you have totally given up dice. To be sure you must give it up; for you to be seen every night in the very vilest company in town — could anything be more shocking, anything more unfit? I speak feelingly on this occasion, non ignara mali miseris, &c. I know of nothing that should bribe me to be present once more at such horrible scenes. Perhaps 'tis as well that we are both acquainted with the extent of the evil, that we may be the more earnest in abstaining from it. You shall henceforth be Diis animosus hostis."
Moore quotes (
Life
, p. 86) the following extract from Byron's
Journal
:—
"I have a notion that gamblers are as happy as many people, being always excited. Women, wine, fame, the table, — even ambition, sate now and then; but every turn of the card and cast of the dice keeps the gamester alive: besides, one can game ten times longer than one can do any thing else. I was very fond of it when young, that is to say, of hazard, for I hate all card games, — even faro. When macco (or whatever they spell it) was introduced, I gave up the whole thing, for I loved and missed the rattle and dash of the box and dice, and the glorious uncertainty, not only of good luck or bad luck, but of any luck at all, as one had sometimes to throw often to decide at all. I have thrown as many as fourteen mains running, and carried off all the cash upon the table occasionally; but I had no coolness, or judgment, or calculation. It was the delight of the thing that pleased me. Upon the whole, I left off in time, without being much a winner or loser. Since one-and-twenty years of age I played but little, and then never above a hundred, or two, or three."