One of the first things requisite to be understood is, that in order to enjoy any amusement, a previous preparation is necessary.  That preparation is to be obtained by useful occupation.  It is only by contrast that we can enjoy anything.—­Without weariness, we can know nothing of rest.  Without first enduring hunger and thirst, we cannot experience the satisfaction of partaking of food and drink.  In like manner, it is only by faithful and industrious application to business of some kind—­it is only by occupying the mind in useful employment—­that we can draw any satisfaction from recreation.  Without this preparation, all amusement loses its charm.  Were the young to engage in one unceasing round of pastimes, from day to day, with no time or thought devoted to useful occupation, recreation would soon be divested of its attractions, and become insipid and painfully laborious.  To be beneficial, amusements should be virtuous in their tendencies, healthful in their influence on the body, and of brief duration.

Among the many pastimes to which the young resort for amusement, card-playing often fills a prominent place.  This is a general, and in some circles, a fashionable practice; but it is objectionable and injurious in all its influences, and in every possible point of view.  Nothing good or instructive, nothing elevating or commendable, in any sense, can come from it.  All its fruits must necessarily be evil.

It is a senseless occupation.  Nothing can be more unmeaning and fruitless, among all the employments to which a rational mind can devote its attention.  It affords no useful exercise of the intellect—­no food for profitable thought—­no power to call into activity the higher and better capacities.  It is true, I suppose, there is some degree of cunning and skill to be displayed in managing the cards.  But what high intellectual, or moral capacity is brought into exercise by a game so trivial?  It excludes interesting and instructive interchanges of sentiment; on topics of any degree of importance; and substitutes talk of a frivolous and meaningless character.  To a spectator, the conversation of a card-table, is of the most uninteresting and childish description.

There are, however, more serious objections than these.  Card-playing has a tendency of the most dangerous description, especially to the youthful.  Let a young man become expert in this game, and fond of engaging in it, and who does not see he is liable to become that most mean and despicable of all living creatures—­a GAMBLER.  Confident of his own skill as a card-player, how long would he hesitate to engage in a game for a small sum?  He has seen older ones playing—­perhaps his own parents—­and he can discover no great harm in doing the same thing even if it is for a stake of a few shillings.  From playing for small sums, the steps are very easy which lead to large amounts.  And in due time, the young man becomes a gambler, from no other cause than that he acquired a love for card-playing, when he engaged in it only as an amusement.