Many card-players and gamesters, unable to bear reverse, have made vows which they lacked the moral courage to keep.  Dr. Norman Macleod tells a curious anecdote of a well-known character who lived in the parish of Sedgley, near Wolverhampton, and who, having lost a considerable sum of money by a match at cock-fighting—­to which practice he was notoriously addicted—­made a vow that he would never fight another cock as long as he lived, “frequently calling upon God to damn his soul to all eternity if he did, and, with dreadful imprecations, wishing the devil might fetch him if he ever made another bet.”

For a time he adhered to his vow, but two years afterwards he was inspired with a violent desire to attend a cock-fight at Wolverhampton, and accordingly visited the place for that purpose.  On reaching the scene he soon disregarded his vow, and cried:  “I hold four to three on such a cock!”

“Four what?” said one of his companions.

“Four shillings,” replied he.

“I’ll lay,” said the other, upon which they confirmed the wager, and, as his custom was, he threw down his hat and put his hand in his pocket for the money, when he instantly fell down dead.  Terrified at the sight, “some who were present for ever after desisted from this infamous sport; but others proceeded in the barbarous diversion as soon as the dead body was removed from the spot.”

Another inveterate gambler was Colonel Edgeworth, who on one occasion, having lost all his ready cash at the card tables, actually borrowed his wife’s diamond earrings, and staking them had a fortunate turn of luck, rising a winner; whereupon he solemnly vowed never to touch cards or dice again.  And yet, it is said, before the week was out, he was pulling straws from a rick, and betting upon which should prove the longest.  On the other hand, Tate Wilkinson relates an interesting anecdote of John Wesley who in early life was very fond of a game of whist, and every Saturday was one of a constant party at a rubber, not only for the afternoon, but also for the evening.  But the last Saturday that he ever played at cards the rubber at whist was longer than he expected, and, “on observing the tediousness of the game he pulled out his watch, and to his shame he found it was some minutes past eight, which was beyond the time he had appointed for the Lord.  He thought the devil had certainly tempted him beyond his hour, he suddenly therefore gave up his cards to a gentleman near him to finish the game,” and left the room, making a vow never to play with “the devil’s pages,” as he called them, again.  That vow he never broke.