'One idle day I ventur'd into one of these _Gaming Houses_, where I found an _Oglio of Rakes_ of several Humours, and Conditions met together. Some that had left them never a Penny to bless their Heads with. One that had play'd away even his Shirt and Cravat, and all his Clothes but his Breeches, stood shivering in a Corner of the Room, and another comforting him, and saying, _Damme_ Jack, who ever thought to see thee in a State of Innocency: Cheer up, Nakedness is the best Receipt in the World against a Fever; and then fell a Ranting, as if Hell had broke loose that very Moment.... I told my friend, instead of _Academies_ these places should be call'd _Cheating Houses_: Whereupon a Bully of the _Blade_ came strutting up to my very Nose, in such a Fury, that I would willingly have given half the Teeth in my Head for a Composition, crying out, Split my Wind Pipe, Sir, you are a Fool, and don't understand _Trap_, the whole World's a Cheat.'[146] [Footnote 146: _The Works of Mr. Thomas Brown_, ed. 1705.] Ward,[147] also, writing of gaming, says: 'Pray, said I, what do you take those Knot of Gentlemen to be, who are so Merry with one another? They, reply'd my Friend, are Gamesters, waiting to pick up some young Bubble or other as he comes from his Chamber; they are Men whose Conditions are subject to more Revolutions than a Weather Cock, or the Uncertain Mind of a Fantastical Woman. They are seldom two Days in one and the same Stations, they are one day very richly drest, and perhaps out at Elbows the next; they have often a great deal of Money, and are as often without a Penny in their Pockets; they are as much Fortunes Bubbles, as young Gentlemen are theirs; for whatever benefits she bestows upon 'em with one Hand, she snatches away with t'other; their whole Lives are a Lottery, they read no books but Cards, and all their Mathematicks is to truly understand the Odds of a Bet; they very often fall out, but very seldom Fight, and the way to make 'em your Friends is to Quarrel with them.... They generally begin every Year with the same Riches; for the Issue of their Annual Labours is chiefly to inrich the Pawnbrokers. They are seldom in Debt, because no Body will Trust 'em; and they never care to Lend Money, because they Know not where to Borrow it. A Pair of False Dice, and a Pack of mark'd Cards sets 'em up; and an Hours Unfortunate Play commonly breaks 'em.' [Footnote 147: _The London Spy._]