"It has, in my opinion, _the appearance of evil_, from which _we are commanded to abstain_." "But of two evils is it not the wisest maxim to choose the least? and is it not a smaller evil _to amuse ourselves at cards, than, as is often the case at evening parties, to play at scandal and defame the reputation of others_?" "Unquestionably; but I presume that a wise and good man would avoid both these evils." "But I am not aware that any evil can arise from this amusing exercise." "Does it not consume that time which ought to be devoted to a more profitable purpose? Does it not frequently give excitement to those passions of our nature which ought to be repressed? Does it not encourage a passion for gaming, which, we know, has involved many in entire ruin?" "But that is the abuse of the thing." "Nay, Sir, I think it is the natural tendency of it." "But are we to have no amusements because some indulge in them to excess? Is life to pass away in a dull, monotonous routine of duty? Are we always to live in a state of exile from the charms and fascinations of social intercourse? Is the mind never to relax itself amidst the diversions of polished society? Must we ever keep up our attention to the sombrous claims of religion, and always think, and speak, and act, as though we were treading on the verge of an awful eternity? Indeed, I give it as my decided opinion, that that species of religion which interdicts these amusements, cannot claim a divine origin, because it is opposed to human happiness." "That species of religion, as you are pleased to call it, does claim a divine origin, and, perhaps, if you examine its claims, you will find them attested by the spirit of the New Testament. Permit me to ask you one question, and I am willing that your answer shall decide the question at issue between us--Do you believe that if Jesus Christ or any of his apostles were now present, they would consent to pass away the hours of this evening in such an exercise as playing a game of cards?" "Perhaps not, but they were extraordinary persons, and their virtue kept them from many sources of amusement from which we, who are more frail, may very innocently draw a portion of our pleasure." "Then you admit that it is our frailty that leads us to such amusements, and that if _we possessed more exalted virtue_ we should avoid them?" "You reason excellently well, Madam, against the amusement; but _such is the frailty_ of our nature, that I fear the passion cannot be subdued with such a weapon." "Perhaps not, Sir." "Pray, Madam, what amusements would you sanction?" "Those which would afford me pleasure on reflection, and in which I could be engaged in my last moments." "The apparent delight with which evangelical professors anticipate their _last_ moments, is a tacit acknowledgment that the present are dull and insipid."