I hold
that the student or thinker who faces life with a calm and calculated
desire for true knowledge is better off than the insensate being whose
hours are passed in a sordid nightmare. But I see little chance of
ever making men care little for the gambler's pleasure, and I humbly
own to the existence of an ugly mystery which only adds yet another to
the number of dark puzzles whereby we are surrounded. I observe that
desperate efforts are made to put down gambling by law rather than by
culture, religion, true and gentle morality. As well try to put down
the passions of love and fear--as well try to interdict the beat of
the pulses! We may deplore the gambler's existence as much as we like;
but it is a fact, and we must accept it.
XX.
SCOUNDRELS.
Byron very often flung out profound truths in his easy, careless way,
but the theatrical vein in his composition sometimes prompted him to
say dashing things, not because he regarded them as true, but because
he wanted to make people stare. Speaking of one interesting and
homicidal gentleman, the poet observes--
"He knew himself a villain, and he deemed
The rest no better than the thing he seemed.
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