From “Card Essays.”
WHIST is sometimes called an unsocial game, because lookers-on are not allowed to speak. But chess equally loves “retirement and the mute silence,” and there is no interval at chess, as there is at whist between the hands, when conversation may be freely indulged in. There is no cutting in and cutting out, and consequently no frequent change of adversaries. Chess, again, only engages two players instead of four. And the fact that whist is a game of partnership introduces social elements which are altogether wanting at chess. Owing to this cause, the practice of whist tends to fit the players for grappling with the affairs of life. This characteristic of whist has been noticed by several eminent writers. Bulwer, himself an accomplished whist player, refers to it in his novel of “Alice.” He says: “Fate has cut and shuffled the cards for you; the game is yours unless you revoke;—pardon my metaphor,—it is a favorite one;—I have worn it threadbare;—but life is so like a rubber at whist.”
Doctor Pole, in illustration of this point, says whist 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 conventional courtesies of his social circle; he is called upon for candid and ingenuous behavior; he must exercise moderation in prosperity, patience in adversity, 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 favor his inferiors; but sound principles will triumph in the end. Is there nothing in all this analogous to the social conditions of ordinary life”? And again the same writer remarks: “Does not the proverb represent the clever, successful man as ‘playing his cards well’”?
Sir George Lewis, in “Methods of Observation and Reasoning in Politics,” says: “We hear of the game of politics, and of moves being made on the political board. Practical politics, however, do not so much resemble a game of chess as a game of whist. In chess, the position of the pieces at the beginning of the game is precisely similar for both contending parties, and every move is made by the deliberate choice of the players. The result depends, therefore, exclusively on their comparative skill; chance is altogether excluded. In whist, on the other hand, the distribution of the cards depends upon chance; that is to say, it depends upon circumstances not within the control of any of the players; but, with the cards so casually dealt out, each player plays according to his free choice. The result, therefore, depends partly upon chance, or luck as it is called, and partly upon skill. This is exactly analogous to the state of things in politics. A large number of circumstances upon which the practical politician has to act are beyond his control. They are, like a hand at cards, dealt out to him by a power which he cannot regulate. But he can guide those circumstances which are within his power, and the ultimate result will depend partly upon the character of the circumstances upon which he has to act, and partly upon the wisdom, skill, and prudence with which he conducts himself in reference to them. If the circumstances be very adverse, the utmost skill may be unavailing to produce a successful result. If they be propitious, he may be successful with a moderate amount of good management. If the circumstances should be unfavorable, good management will only meet with checkered success, and will be no effectual security against occasional reverses, though it will be successful in the long run, and taking together both favorable and unfavorable circumstances.”
From these extracts it would seem that whist possesses higher claims than chess, from a social point of view.
Lastly, as to fitness for the purposes of recreation. In simplicity of construction whist is peculiarly fortunate. All that is necessary to be known before attempting to play is the order of the cards, and the facts that the highest card wins the trick and that trumps win other suits. Admiral Burney tells a story of a young man who was desirous of learning whist. On being informed of the construction of the game, he said: “Oh! if that is all, I shall be able to play as well as any one in half an hour.” If he had said he could learn the mise en scene of the game in a few minutes he would have been right.
Chess, though not a game of extreme complexity, requires more preliminary instruction than whist. To know the moves is considered by some persons to be an accomplishment; and as regards the amount of “book” requisite to play one or the other game fairly well, whist is a long way to the front.
Then as to the comparative interest excited by the two games. To arrive at a just estimate on this head, we must divide games into three classes:—
1. Games of chance, such as rouge-et-noir, roulette, and pitch-and-toss. These are mere vehicles for gambling, and excite scarcely any interest unless played for money.
2. Games into which both skill and chance enter, or mixed games, such as whist, piquet, and backgammon. These excite more interest than games of chance.
3. Games of skill, such as chess and draughts. These excite too much interest. To play well at chess is too hard work. The game of chess—not skittling chess, but chess as it should be—instead of being resorted to as a distraction and a relief from toil, is, in the hands of real artists, the business of their lives, and, in this sense, it can hardly be regarded as a game at all.
It is, then, to mixed games that we must look for the happy medium which excites sufficient, but not too great, interest. To be candid, it must be admitted that chance enters too largely into whist to render it a perfect game, owing to the preponderance of honors. Clay observes on this point that short whist is “in full vigor, in spite of at least one very glaring defect—the undue value of the honors, which are pure luck, as compared with that of the tricks, which greatly depend on skill. Short whist bears this mark of its hasty and accidental origin. If the change had been carefully considered, the honors would have been cut in half, as well as the points. Two by honors would have counted one point. Four by honors would have counted two. Had this been so, the game would be perfect, but the advantage of skill would be so great as to limit considerably the number of players.” Clay then explains the circumstances of the "hasty and accidental origin” of short whist. He continues: “Some sixty or seventy years back,” that would be about the beginning of this century, “Lord Peterborough having one night lost a large sum of money, the friends with whom he was playing proposed to make the game five points instead of ten, in order to give the loser a chance, at a quicker game, of recovering his loss.”
It is no secret that the committee appointed in 1863 to revise the laws of whist had the question of the reduction of honors brought before them; but they feared to make so large an alteration in the game, lest the new laws should only meet with partial adoption.
Nevertheless, whist, with its imperfectly balanced complements of skill and chance, goes very near to exciting the proper amount of interest. The entry of chance into whist diminishes the labor of playing, and varies the faculties of the mind called into operation. The combinations that ensue afford numerous openings for the employment of skill, and watching the chances keeps the mental powers pleasantly occupied, while the cessation of play between the hands, like the pause between the beats of the heart, obviates the ill effect of long-continued effort.
The objection sometimes brought against whist, that it is a card game, and that therefore it may lead to gambling, does not require serious refutation. Chess may be, and often is, played for money; but it is no discredit to any game that it may be abused instead of being used.
Has it not been shown that whist, as a game, possesses claims to be ranked above chess? Has it not been shown that whist is calculated to promote to the utmost the amusement and relaxation of those employed? The game of whist may fairly be said to combine the means of innocent recreation, of healthy excitement, and of appropriate mental exercise, and thus to fulfill, in the highest degree, the purposes for which it was designed.
