CHAPTER I.

INTRODUCTION.

WHIST is, without question, the best of all our domestic games. The only other one which could lay claim to such a distinction is Chess; but this has the disadvantage of containing no element of chance in its composition-which renders it too severe a mental labour, and disqualifies it from being considered a game, in the proper sense of the word. Whist, on the contrary, while it is equal to chess in its demands on the intellect and skill of the player, involves so much chance as to give relief to the mental energies, and thus to promote, as every good game should, the amusement and relaxation of those engaged.

The high intellectual character of Whist becomes evident, if we consider the powers of the mind which its intelligent study and practice may call into action. To investigate thoroughly its fundamental principles, we must bring to bear upon it, as we

shall by-and-bye have occasion to explain, reasoning of a high order. But, independently of the theory, the practice also involves considerable mental attainments. The observation must be keen, the memory active; a considerable power of drawing inferences, and of tracing appearances to their causes, must be brought into use; and we must exercise boldness, caution, prudence, foresight, care against deception, promptness of decision, soundness of judgment, fertility of resource, ingenuity of contrivance, and such a general course of thought and action as must, if it is to be successful, be dictated by competent and well-trained mental powers.

Then Whist has peculiar moral and social relations. It has been called, by those who do not understand it, an unsocial game; but nothing can be more untrue. It is a perfect microcosm—a complete miniature society in itself. Each player has one friend, to whom he is bound by the strongest ties of mutual interest and sympathy; but he has twice the number of enemies, against whose machinations he is obliged to keep perpetual guard. He must give strict adherence to the established laws and the conventional courtesies of his social circle; he is called on for candid and ingenuous behaviour; he must exercise, moderation in prosperity, patience in adver

sity, hope in doubtful fortune, humility when in error, forbearance to the faults of his friends, self-sacrifice for his allies, equanimity under the success of his adversaries, and general good-temper throughout all his transactions. His best efforts will sometimes fail, and fortune will favour his inferiors; but sound principles will triumph in the end. Is there nothing in all this analogous to the social conditions of ordinary life?

As an amusement, Whist stands equally high. Consider its immense variety. A hand will last only a few minutes; we may have a hundred of them in an evening; and yet, throughout a player's whole life, no two similar ones will ever occur! Each one will present some novel feature, offering special interest of the most diversified kind. Sometimes the interest lies in your own cards, sometimes in your partner's, sometimes in those of your adversaries. Sometimes you have almost nothing to do, sometimes everything turns on your play. The mixture of the unknown with the known gives unbounded scope for amusing speculation; the admirable combination of volition and chance affords a still wider field for observant interest: indeed, some philosophical players make the rubber a fertile field for the study of human character, for the disclosure of which it is proverbially favourable.

The only objection brought against Whist is that, being played for money, it may promote gambling. Apart from the consideration that it is very unfitted for gambling purposes, the objection is untrue in fact. Good players, generally, like to play for stakes high enough to define well the interest taken in the game; but the idea of gain, which is the essential feature of gambling, enters as little into the mind of a Whist as of a Chess player. We have sometimes heard of what are called 'professional' players, who play with this object; but, we believe, they are generally given a wide berth in good society.

Whist has always been a favourite pursuit of great men. The most philosophical novelist of modern times uses it to illustrate his profound speculations; and we have heard an eminent scholar and writer declare he considers it a revelation to mankind! But we have the vox populi also in its favour; for does not the proverb represent the clever successful man as 'playing his cards well ?'

Considering the great popularity of Whist in this country, and the extent to which it is played in all classes of society, it is really astonishing to find how few people take the pains to play it well. It has been remarked, by writers on the subject, that good players are very seldom to be met with, fine ones

scarcely ever. And yet, how amply it repays a little trouble devoted to its acquisition !

How, then, is this strange deficiency to be accounted for? Simply because people do not generally admit that Whist, like other branches of knowledge, requires study. It is commonly supposed that, after acquiring the simple construction of the game, practice alone will suffice to make a good player. This is a great mistake, as experience abundantly shows. We continually meet with persons who have played Whist all their lives; and yet who, though they may bring to bear on their play great observation, memory, and tact, play on so entirely different a system to that sanctioned and practised by real experts in the game, as scarcely to be fit to sit at the same table with them.

We have already alluded to the wonderful variety to be found in the game of Whist; and we may now add that this variety is manifested, not only in the distribution of the cards-which is the work of chance but also in the playing of them, which depends on the human will. It is with this latter element that we have now more especially to do.

Although the construction of the game is so simple that it might be defined in a few words, and learnt by a child in a few minutes, yet such is the amazing