With the few exceptions I have mentioned, whist-players not only stop very far short of excellence in the game, but very soon reach their tether.  I cannot say of any man that he has gone on improving for years; his mark is fixed, and he knows it—­though he is exceptionally sagacious if he knows where it is drawn as respects others—­and there he stays till he begins to deteriorate.  The first warning of decadence is the loss of memory, after which it is a question of time (and good sense) when he shall withdraw from the ranks of the fighting men and become a mere spectator of the combat.  It was said by a great gambler that the next pleasure in life to that of winning was that of losing; and to the real lover of whist, the next pleasure to that of playing a good game is that of looking on at one.

Whist has been extolled, and justly, upon many accounts; but the peculiar advantage of the game is, perhaps, that it utilises socially many persons who would not otherwise be attractive.  Unless a player is positively disagreeable, he is as good to play whist with as a conversational Crichton.  Moreover, though the poet has hinted of the evanescent character of ‘friendships made in wine,’ such is not the case with those made at whist.  The phrase, ‘my friend and partner,’ used by a well-known lady in fiction, in speaking of another lady, is one that is particularly applicable to this social science, and holds good, as it does, alas, in no other case, even when the partner becomes an adversary.

RELATIONS.

It is a favourite utterance of a much ‘put-upon’ Paterfamilias of my acquaintance, when he finds his family more than usually too much for him, and cynically confesses his own shortcomings, that ’children cannot be too particular in their choice of their parents, or begin their education too early.’

But not only are children a necessity—­that is, if the world of men and women is to be kept going, concerning the advantage of which there seems, however, just now, to be some doubt,—­but when they have arrived, they cannot, except in very early life, be easily got rid of.  In this respect they differ from the relations whose case I am about to consider, and also possess a certain claim upon us over and above the mere tie of blood, since we are responsible for their existence.  The obligation on the other side is, I venture to think, a little exaggerated.  If there is such a thing as natural piety, which, even in these days, few are found to deny, it is the reverence, it is true, with which children regard their parents; but their moral indebtedness to them as the authors of their being is open to doubt.  That theory, indeed, appears to be founded upon false premises; for, unless in the case of an ancestral estate, I am not aware that the existence of children is much premeditated.  On the contrary, their arrival is often looked upon, from pecuniary reasons, with much apprehension, or, at best, till they do arrive, they