ists I should rank first; their game was not alone finer and
more subtle, but they showed a recuperative power in their play
which others rarely possessed: they extricated themselves well out of
difficulties, and always made their losses as small as possible. Where
they broke down was when they were linked with a bad partner: they
invariably played on a level which he could never attain to, and in this
way cross purposes and misunderstandings were certain to ensue.
Lawyers, as a class, play well; but their great fault is, they play
too much for the _galerie_. The habit of appealing to the jury jags
and blurs the finer edge of their faculties, and they are more prone to
canvass the suffrages of the surrounders than to address themselves to
the actual issue. For this reason, Equity practitioners are superior to
the men in the courts below.
Physicians are seldom first-rate players--they are always behind their
age in Whist, and rarely, if ever, know any of the fine points which
Frenchmen have introduced into the game. Their play, too, is timid--they
regard trumps as powerful stimulants, and only administer them in
drop-doses. They seldom look at the game as a great whole, but play on,
card after card, deeming each trick they turn as a patient disposed of,
and not in any way connected with what has preceded or is to follow it.
Divines are in Whist pretty much where geology was in the time of the
first Georges; still I have met with a bishop and a stray archdeacon or
two who could hold their own. I am speaking here of the Establishment,
because in Catholic countries the higher clergy are very often good
players. Antonelli, for instance, might sit down at the Portland or the
Turf; and even my old friend G. P. would find that his Eminence was his
match.
Soldiers are sorry performers, for mess-play is invariably bad; but
sailors are infinitely worse. They have but one notion, which is to play
out all the best cards as fast as they can, and then appeal to their
partner to score as many tricks as they have--an inhuman performance,
which I have no doubt has cost many apoplexies.
On the whole, Frenchmen are better players than we are. Their game is
less easily divined, and all their intimations (_invites_) more subtle
and more refined. The Emperor plays well. In England he played a great
deal at the late Lord Eglinton's, though he was never the equal of
that accomplished Earl, whose mastery of all games, especially those o
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