of which I am fast approaching. Independent of the frequent ruinous
consequences of the gaming-table, I have taken a dislike to its
associates, and therefore abandoned their society; nor will you be
surprised at my having adopted this resolution, when I inform you, that
at my last sitting in one of these nefarious haunts of dissipation, I
was minus to the extent, in a few hours, of several thousand pounds,
the prize of unprincipled adventurers, of swindlers, black-legs, and
pigeon-fanciers!"{1}

1 A pigeon-fancier is one of those speculators at the
Gambling Houses, whose object it is to lie in wait for
inexperienced noviciates, and under the pretext of fair and
honorable dealing pluck their feathers; that is to say,
strip them bare of their property. Days and nights are
passed at the gaming-table. "I remember," said the Earl
of G----, "spending three days and three nights in the
hazard room of a well-known house in St James's Street; the
shutters were closed, the curtains down, and we had candles
the whole time; even in the adjoining rooms we had candles,
that when our doors were opened to bring in refreshments, no
obtrusive gleam of day-light might remind us how the hours
had passed. How human nature supported the fatigue, I know
not. We scarcely allowed ourselves a moment's pause to take
the sustenance our bodies required. At last one of the
waiters, who had been in the room with us the whole time,
declared that he could hold out no longer, and that sleep he
must. With difficulty he obtained an hour's truce; the
moment he got out of the room he fell asleep, absolutely at
the very threshold of our door. By the rules of the house he
was entitled to a bonus on every transfer of property at the
hazard-table; and he made in the course of three days, up-
wards of Three hundred pounds! Sleep and avarice had
struggled to the utmost, but, with his vulgar habit, sleep
prevailed. We were wide awake. I never shall forget the
figure of one of my noble associates, who sat holding his
watch, his eager eyes fixed upon the minute-hand, whilst he
exclaimed continually, "This hour will never be over!" Then
he listened to discover whether his watch had stopped, then
cursed the lazy fellow for falling asleep, protesting, that
for his part, he never would again consent to such a was