was thrown into a titter, and the buck ran out, overwhelmed with
shame. A similar anecdote is told of another 'dissipated buck'
in a church. The grand masquerade given on the opening of the
Union Club House, in Pall Mall, was not entirely over till a late
hour on the following Sunday. A young man nearly
intoxicated--certainly not knowing what he was about-- reeled
into St. James's church, in his masquerade dress, with his hat
on. The late Rev. Thomas Bracken, attracted by the noise of his
entrance, looked directly at him as he chanced to deliver the
following words:--'Friend! how camest thou in hither, not having
on a wedding garment?' It seemed so to strike the culprit that
he instantly took off his hat and withdrew in confusion.

At play, a winner redoubles his caution and sang-froid just in
proportion as his adversary gets bewildered by his losses,
becoming desperate; he takes advantage of the weakness of the
latter, giving him the law, and striving for greater success.
When the luck changes, however, the case is reversed, and the
former loser becomes, in his turn, ten times more pitiless--like
that Roman prefect, mentioned by Tacitus, who was the more
inexorable because he had been harshly treated in his youth, co
immmitior quia toleraverat. The joy at winning back his money
only makes a gamester the more covetous of winning that of his
adversary. A wealthy man once lost 100,000 crowns, and begged to
be allowed to go and sell his property, which was worth double
the amount he had lost. 'Why sell it?' said his adversary; 'let
us play for the remainder.' They played; luck changed; and the
late LOSER ruined the other.

Sometimes avidity makes terrible mistakes; many, in order to win