own want of attention has nothing to do with the result. These again, with very good cards, lose the game by bad play or by not taking the chances in their favour, and they seem to be surprised that others, under like circumstances, do not lose. Indeed, when the cards of a particular suit are as well known to a good player as if the cards were on the table, and the good player takes advantage of this knowledge to play in the most advantageous manner for himself, they appear to think this the result of luck, forgetful for the moment that the game for the nonce is skill against luck. That the one player is playing with his eyes open, and the other with his eyes shut.

There is only one cheerful grumbler, and he ought to be immortalized. He goes in for something pretty every hand, and if one of these pretty things come off in a rubber, although he has lost 6 tricks to win the one, he is happy. He points out one of these beauties, and gravely tells you that had it not been for this coup, you would have lost 4 by cards and 2 by honours, instead of 3 by cards and 2 by honours! He always expects to get more than he does, and believes it is his partner's fault that he does not get more, and he tells him so; but then he does not know how the extra trick could have been got unless you led trumps, or perhaps a Club, and on being informed that you had not a Club or trump, he declares at once that it could not have been helped any way. Whereupon, some good natured friend reminds him that if he had not trumped his partner's best Diamond, or if he had led trumps, the game could not have been lost. He is however a happy man whether winning or losing, and one of his coups repays him for all the losses he suffers

EDGAR POE ON WHIST.

To the Editor of the WESTMINSTER PAPERS.

SIR,-There is, in your number for March, a quotation from Edgar Poe on Whist, which seems to me to indicate that this very clever writer knew either too little of Whist, or too much of objectionable Whist players. As a piece of smart writing, addressed to those who are not Whist players, or, being players, do not hold the game in high regard, the sentiments of Edgar Poe may pass; but I think that for any Whist player to accept them would be to acknowledge on his part that high, honourable feeling and Whist are not compatible things. I subjoin the passage:

"To observe attentively is to remember distinctly; and so far, the concentrative Chess player will do very well at Whist, while the rules of Hoyle (themselves based upon the mere mechanism of the game) are sufficiently and generally comprehensible. Thus, to have a retentive memory and to proceed by the book,' are points commonly regarded as the sum total of good playing. But it is in matters beyond the limits of mere rule that the skill of the analyst is evinced; he makes, in silence, a host of observations and inferences. So, perhaps, do his companions; and the difference in the extent of the information obtained lies not so much in the validity of the inference as in the quality of the observation. The necessary knowledge is that of what to observe. Our player confines himself not at all; nor, because the game is the object, does he reject deductions from things external to the game. He examines the countenance of his partner, comparing it carefully with that of each of his opponents. He considers the mode of assorting the cards in each hand, often counting trump by trump, and honour by honour, through the glances bestowed by their holders upon each. He notes every variation of faces as the play progresses, gathering a fund of thought from the differences in the expression-of certainty, of surprise, of triumph, or of chagrin."

I can only observe this, that it is Whist divorced from chivalry. I would just as soon take an opportunity (which I could avoid) of looking at my neighbour's hand as I would open and read a letter of his. And to pry into his countenance, or stealthily watch the arrangement of his cards, or in any other way to try systematically to learn his hand from any outward indication except the legitimate one of watching the fall of his cards, would appear to me to be in the same grade of feeling which would prompt a man to investigate the addresses and postmarks of a friend's letters, or to read the addresses of those he sent out with a view to worm out any secrets he had. This method of watching people's faces at Whist, or their mode of sorting their cards, is the game of sharp practice, not the game of Whist—not, at least, as I see it played, and play it myself; and as I certainly would never stoop to any of these arts myself, so I certainly would not mix habitually in any society in which I found they could be resorted to without loss of character. LATAKIA.

By way of addenda to Latakia's letter, we may add the following anecdote, told by Cornelius O'Dowd, in the Blackwood for March.

"I remember, a great many years ago, to have played a party at Whist, with a distinguished American politician, who was my opponent and the dummy.' The game was long, and obstinately contested, and won, ultimately, by the American. We had been four to four, when the last heat decided the struggle. When in the act of commencing another game, my mind still dwelling on the events of the preceding one, a sudden thought struck me that my opponent must have 'revoked.' If I were right in my conjecture it was, of course, too late to make the objection, for we were already engaged in a new partie; but, still, as a matter of curious interest, I thought I should ask him if it were so. 'Yes, sir,' replied he, promptly, I did revoke; it was the only way to win the game."

Those who do us the honour to read our remarks are aware that with the morality of the American or with the opinions of Poe we have no sympathy. The man who purposely revokes is a cheat ; the man who obtains information by watching the others arrange their cards is as contemptible as

the one who looks over another's hand. It must not be supposed that because we insert a good story or a smart piece of writing that therefore we endorse the writer's views. If Poe had played in good Whist society he would have found that it required the whole of his attention to watch the cards as they fell, and to draw the necessary inferences therefrom, without troubling himself with any extraneous information, and that if he tried to count his adversary's hand or to see his cards, he would be taken in and detected. It would be useless to see another's hand unless you could take advantage of the information thus obtained. Where there is one player at the table capable of putting down a hand as it was played, there is considerable risk in playing on information improperly obtained.-ED.

CROQUET.

THE COMING SEASON.

THE Croquet season may be said to commence as to-day, for though a good deal of practice is done early by those who aspire to the honour of carrying off the Oxford Cup, the great majority of players wait until the lingering spring has ceased to torment us with its broken promises. The Grand National Croquet Club and All-England Croquet Club both announce the usual contests. There is to be a spring and autumn meeting at Wimbledon, and the Champion Cup of that Club is to be played for on the 9th of July and the following days. The great event of the year will be, as usual, the contest at Oxford, given by the Grand National, at which it is said two fresh competitors, members of the University, will enter. The last six years have hardly effected any difference in the relative merit of the best players. With the exception that Law is champion, instead of Peel, the list remains as it was-Law, Peel, Whitmore, Muntz, Lillie. The only player who has shown any promise of being able to contest the palm with these, with any chance of success, is Mr. Black, of New College, Oxford, who is, we presume, one of the University men spoken of as likely to enter for the championship this year. Mr. Black, it will be remembered, was the player who made the extraordinary break of 137 points last year, at the meeting of the Grand National at Aldershot, but as this break was on a ground of limited size, with 5 inch hoops (a liberal 5 inches), the criterion is not conclusive. His play is however undoubtedly of a high order, and we should rejoice to see him brought forward as a representative of the Dark Blue, especially because we cannot help thinking that Croquet ought not to be considered as having reached the acmé of its developement in five or six players. One more in the list would give a fresh interest to the fight. We have not much hope of any one else coming forward, the players who stand next in merit to those gentlemen we have mentioned being a long way behind in skill.

THE SETTINGS.

THE Settings at Croquet may be virtually considered as being now reduced to two, that of the Grand National Croquet Club, and No. 3, known as the All-round Setting, invented by Mr. Hale. Setting No. 2, with its diminished number of points and objectionable centre hoop, the best thing ever invented for spoiling a good ground, may be considered as a thing of the past. Of the two remaining Settings, adopted respectively by the Grand National and All-England Clubs, No. 1 is somewhat the easiest; but the average of time, as kept last year by the Grand National Croquet Club, 52 minutes a game, shows that it is quite difficult enough. The No. 3 Setting is, we think, not without merit, but it requires modification. We have no hesitation in saying that, as adopted by the All-England Croquet Club, it will not answer. We have sufficiently explained the absurdity of adopting a Croquet ground, a quarter of an acre in extent, as a standard. On such a ground, with sensational hoops of 3 inches, Croquet at Wimbledon is likely to become an intolerable bore. The average distance between the hoops in Setting 3 is fourteen yards, and there are four distances of twenty-four yards to be made; and the consequence will be that a game played out by bad players will be more lingering than Pope's needless "Alexandrine," and drag its slow length along in such an intolerable manner, that travellers taking a return ticket from London to Portsmouth may be able to see the commencement of a game in the morning, and come back in time to see the finish in the twilight. It has been stated that the Setting has been thus generally adopted in conformity with the wishes of the "large majority of the county clubs ;" but as there are only three or four county clubs, the statement puts one in mind of the old story of the two old women who were lodging in the same house, one of whom complained to a friend that there were ten thousand cats in the house; but, on examination, it turned out that there were only two cats, her own and the other old woman's. We strongly suspect that the large majority of county clubs would turn out to be the Sussex County Club and the Threeshire. The term "large majority" must, under the circumstances, be looked on as "tall talk."

The result of observations made last year with respect to the Setting now given as No. 1 in the Conference Rules, shows that games played by first-rate players lasted from 30 to 45 minutes, by ordinary players

from 40 to 60 minutes. The average of time is the best criterion, and 40 minutes is about the best average of duration. Of course we speak of play with the small hoop-that is, a four-inch hoop, the standard adopted by the Grand National. With this size, we recommend the first Setting as by far the best, and as affording the greatest variety of distances.

GRAND NATIONAL CROQUET CLUB.

THE first meeting of this Club is to take place at Oxford. The matches will commence on Monday the 10th of June, and will last through the Commemoration week. The annual contest for the Championship is fixed for Wednesday the 12th June. The present holder of the cup is Mr. Law, who last year defeated Mr. Muntz and Mr. Whitmore. We understand that the Oxford meeting is likely to become a regular thing, and, in the interest of Croquet, it is much to be hoped that it will. Everything which is heartily taken up by the Dark Blue is sure to become generally attractive; and if the merits of Croquet, as a game, are as high as its lovers fondly suppose, the contest for the Oxford Cup may come to be an event much looked forward to. The second meeting of the National Club takes place at Aldershot, on the 25th June, and is expected to last four days. The Aldershot Croquet ground is now the largest in England, and certainly the most beautiful. The whole extent of the ground is sixteen acres, of which between five or six acres are in good order for play. Seventeen sets can be put on at once, and we understand that, with the alterations going on, the ground will finally more than double any other public ground in England. In the same week as the Croquet, there is to be at the camp a match of the Zingari, a ball, races, and private theatricals. With such a programme no one can fail to be pleased; but it will require, we think, a good constitution to go through all the gaieties. The August and September meetings of the G. N. C. C. are not yet announced.

DRAMATIC NOTES.

WE suppose that when Saul was found to be among the prophets, some feelings of gratification were expressed by the smaller fry of seerdom at the appearance of so distinguished an opponent on their side. It is in a similar frame of mind that we read, in an article on dramatic criticism contained in the Daily Telegraph of the 17th April, opinions which are as confirmatory of the views we have always expressed in these Papers as they are damning to the Telegraph itself. The article in question was caused by a letter from Mr. Charles Reade, complaining of the criticism passed by the Daily Telegraph on his adaptation of Mr. Trollope's novel, Ralph the Heir; and in taking occasion to rebuke Mr. Reade's petulant rudeness, the writer delivers himself of some very sound and sensible remarks on the present and recent state of dramatic criticism. He states, truly enough, that the lash has for many years been laid aside, severity has been forgotten, frequent offences allowed to escape with impunity, and keen, sharp censure on authors, actors and managers has been nearly unknown. And he hits the right nail on the head when he says that this unsatisfactory state of things has been caused by personal kindliness, and by the good feeling arising from fellowship and social intercourse between actors, authors and critics. That there has been a slight change for the better is due to no exertions of the Daily Telegraph, which, after the fashion of great men and institutions, steps in when the work has been nearly completed to claim a share in the reward. It has been the greatest offender of all in the matter of wholesale whitewashing of worthless plays, in gushing praise of bad and indifferent actors, and in heaping eulogies on the heads of dramatic authors. It has been left to obscure and poverty-stricken publications to commence a new system of criticism; and we are fain to confess that genuine reviews of plays and players have proceeded in many instances more from a desire to achieve notoriety and circulation than from honest intent. But, as the result is good, it is not for us to quarrel with the motives which led to it; and no sooner did it become apparent that honest criticism found favour with the public, than a change took place in the tactics of the influential journals, and the Daily Telegraph itself has of late numbered itself, as we have said, among the true prophets. It has recently published criticisms which are at once candid and clever, and its review of ShillyShally, at the Gaiety, has given great offence to Mr. Charles Reade, who is the adapter of the piece.

We are sorry that Mr. Charles Reade should kick against the pricks, for he is not to be confounded with the ordinary crowd of authors and playwrights. It was naturally to be expected that managers, especially young and petted ones, should, in their indignation and astonishment at being thwarted in the smallest degree, address ungrammatical and illogical appeals to the public to support them against the critics; but Mr. Reade is a man of different metal, and we are therefore sorry that he should place himself in a false position. That he has so placed himself is doubly true, for he has, in the first instance, written a bad and clumsy play; and, in the second, a letter replete with childish anger and unfounded insinuations. His letter, briefly summed up, declares that the verdict of the Telegraph critic is utterly false, and dictated by the jealousy of a rival playwright; and, indirectly, that the critic himself is no gentleman, no scholar, and a man of impure life and morals. We do not know whether Mr. Reade takes in The Westminster Papers, but if he does, he may read our opinion that such a letter as the one we have quoted is utterly indefensible and unworthy; and, further,

that Shilly-Shally deserves every word of sharp criticism that was passed upon it. The first act is as inartistic and confused a specimen of construction as, let us say, Ecarté, and the second and third resolve themselves mainly into a duologue between Mr. Neefit and his daughter, or, rather, between Mr. Toole and Miss Farren. Those who have read Mr. Trollope's book will be shocked to hear that, for the supposed exigencies of the stage, Moggs is turned into Mr. Neefit's cutter-out; that Clarissa, bereft of sister and cousin, comes to the breeches-maker to order a riding-habit, and exchanges chaff with her lovers-Ralph Newton the heir, and Ralph (rechristened Robert) Newton the illegitimate son; that, in separate compartments, in a Twickenhamhotel scene, Clarissa, broken-hearted, leans against the wall of one compartment, whilst Mr. Toole is cracking his wildest jokes in the other; and that the characters discuss, promiscuously, love affairs, arrests for debt, succession to estates, and the rights of man, whilst an old gentleman is supposed to be dying outside. If we add that the second act resolves itself into a kissing match between Mr. Toole and Miss Farren; that the third winds up with a burlesque tag, and that the representative of Ralph could never, in real life, have been entertained for a moment as a suitor by any one lady, much less by two, it will be seen that the Telegraph reviewer had some grounds for the conclusions he arrived at.

Broken Spells (at the Court Theatre) is a play of a very different character. Unlike Shilly-Shally, the first act, and especially the first scene, is exceedingly well planned and dramatic. Such is the pathetic nature of the love story at the beginning of the play, so well have the authors told it, and so well is it acted by Mr. Vezin and Miss Cavendish, that the audience are surprised and vexed to find the gentleman become a revengeful fiend, and the lady wed another. Neither in the progress nor the delineation of the plot do the second and third acts keep up the promise of the first. When two such authors as Dr. Marston and Mr. Wills work in conjunction, it would be supposed that they would err, if at all, on the side of diffuseness; but as it is, they are obliged to eke out the scanty proportion of the second and third acts with some exceedingly melancholy comic business. In very bad taste is the jocose dialogue between a domestic and his master's sister about the death of the former's wife; and very inharmonious at the end of the play is the funny by-play of Estelle and her lover, with Mr. Vezin's display of acting. A performance so fine as that of Mr. Vezin ought to be witnessed by every lover of art, and we unhesitatingly declare that nothing superior to it is to be witnessed at present on the English stage. Truth compels us to state that the audience at the Court witness it with polite, but perplexed patience, and turn with relief and delight to the revised burlesque of Rebecca and the gag" of Mr. Righton. This gentleman is a clever actor, but he is not Mr. Toole; and until he attains to Mr. Toole's popularity and genial humour, it would be well for him, or if he is incapable of self-restraint, for the management to curtail, in some degree, his facetious impromptus, which, in addition to interrupting the business of the stage, are not palatable to the better portion of the audience. Mr. Righton should also reflect that when he meddles with politics, he is like a child playing with edged tools, and that when he introduces a coarse and silly allusion to the late outrage on the Queen, he incurs the contempt of all right thinking persons-whether they are in stalls, pit or gallery. It would be a pity if an actor of promise, as Mr. Righton has shown himself, should be spoilt and ruined, at the outset of his career, by a false estimate of his powers and capabilities.

If the prospects of the ballot political may be judged from the result of the ballot theatrical at the Queen's, the muddled measure of Mr. Forster is not likely to prove profitable. The public were called upon by the manager of the Queen's theatre to choose by ballot what Shakspearian play they would desire to see, and the public, perhaps to their own astonishment, discovered that their preference was for Cymbeline, which contains a female character of important dimensions. Accordingly Cymbeline with Miss Henrietta Hodson as Imogen, was produced on the stage of the Queen's at the beginning of April, but so false were the public to their colours, that it has been found necessary after a run of a few weeks to replace Cymbeline, on alternate nights, by Virginius, and to announce the early withdrawal of both plays. But, making due allowance for these questionable tactics, it must be admitted that Miss Hodson gives a very pleasing rendering both of Imogen and Virginia, and that the manner in which both plays have been produced reflects great credit on the stage manager. But it is impossible to suppose, nor can the authorities at the Queen's really believe, that the very weak staff at that theatre can enable the legitimate and classical drama to resume its hold on the public. For instance, Mr. Ryder, who takes the principal characters, would not consider it derogatory to his dignity to play second fiddle to many estimable tragedians who are now strolling about the provinces for want of a London engagement. If then, Messrs. Phelps, Barry Sullivan, Vezin, and others, are unable, singly or in conjunction, to attract audiences to hear Shakespeare in London, can it be expected that Mr. Ryder and his underlings should be able to do so? The problem may easily be solved by a visit to the Queen's, and an inspection of its array of empty benches.

At the Adelphi and Princesses theatres the athletic drama is in great force. At the former establishment the effect of Mr. Chatterton's sway is seen in the total revision of the company, of whom Mrs. Mellon is now the sole survivor of the old bundle of sticks. This eviction of their favourites depresses the audience, which remains unchanged, and causes them to receive Hilda with melancholy apathy, and to hurry off at the finish with sorrowful reminiscences. We can hardly sympathise with this ingratitude to Mr. Chatterton, who is the Adelphi reformer, for the acting of Mr. Fernandez (who slightly resembles Mr. Webster in his better days) and

of Mr. Brittain Wright is an improvement on the old style, whilst the scramble for life over the house tops is as funny a piece of business as could have happened in the days of Mr. Wright and Mr. Paul Bedford. Nothing can be more diverting than the spectacle of a dozen or so of the characters issuing out of the garrets of as many different houses, though they have previously been conversing together in the same room. These things are better done at the Princesses, which surpasses any theatre in London for the excellence of its scenery and the completeness of its mechanical arrangements. The scenes of the sinking ship, the Aus ralian gorge, and the crazy Wapping tenement are really admirable in their way, though that way is not to our taste. Nor is it apparently very much to the taste of the spectators that attend these theatres, for both the interest and applause is very languid. Nothing can be a clearer proof of the deadening and unhealthy food supplied by sensational drama than the way in which it acts upon the public who take it. They sit in apathetic inattention whilst the plot and dialogue of the play is being painfully carried on in front scenes; they open their eyes and applaud faintly at each laborious set scene, and then relapse into a state of coma. There is no heartiness-no real enjoyment.

The novelties produced at the beginning of the past month were so numerous that we have no space to notice them satisfactorily. Mr. Henry Irving has appeared at the Lyceum as Jeremy Diddler; but there is nothing in his impersonation to call for special eulogy, and it is very unwise for him to increase that physical exhaustion which must inevitably follow his arduous representation of Mathias in The Bells (more especially as he has of late elaborated the business to an extent that is inartistic). A new manager has been found bold enough to re-open the Holborn Theatre, with an adaptation of Offenbach's La Vie Parisienne, and a string of young women, the length of whose names is in an inverse ratio to the smallness of their abilities. In speculations of this kind, the status of the (female) performers is regulated by the proportion of their limbs, and not of their talents; and, therefore, it is not easy to publish critical opinions of their capabilities. At the Strand, a new burlesque has been produced, if possible duller and feebler than those which preceded it; and it is not improbable that this theatre, which gave birth to modern burlesque, may give it its final coup de grace. Lastly, Mdlle. Fargueil and M. Brindeau have returned to the St. James'; and those persons who are of opinion that a leap from a precipice, or a cat-like scramble along house tops are more exciting than pure comedy, would do well to see these artistes in Nos Intimes and Les Pattes de Mouche.

NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS.

CHESS.

H. J. R. (Hackney).-You do not state whether your question refers to a Chess Club or not, but in any case every member of a club (Chess Club or otherwise) is entitled to a list of the members' names and addresses, and in all well managed clubs such lists are revised and distributed among the members every year.

J. PIERCE (Bedford). We are much obliged for the problems, which shall have our best attention.

T. H. Field (Halifax).—Many thanks for the "slip." The subscriptions in aid of Captain Evans are acknowledged in another part of this number.

J. W. (Huddersfield).-Thanks. See notice to "T. H. F."
H. T. Y.-The problem is now correct, and is a very good

one.

FAYSSE PERE (Beauvoisin).—We are much obliged for the problems, which shall appear in due course. The "Knight's Tour" is referred to in another part of this number.

W. B. M.-Is there not a second solution to the three-move

problem, commencing with Q to QB 2?

J. M. (Brighton).-There is a mate in three, as follows:

1. Kt to Kt 7. 1. Kt to Kt 5.

2. B takes Kt and mates with Rook next move. G. E. B. (Inverness). -Thanks for your interesting letter. We shall look anxiously for the promised analysis.

PIQUET.

T. C.-B deals; C elder hand. All C's scores are good. He plays the last card but one, which makes 28. He plays the last card, which makes 29, and he wins the last trick, which is 30; i.e., he wins every trick. Does the score of the one for the last trick enable C to score a Pique? Is he entitled to 60 or 30? C contends that he is entitled to 60 in respect of the one for the last card, and, indeed, that he is entitled to score the 40 for the Capot to make up the number for the Pique. B, on the contrary, says for the last card the player is entitled to an extra one. That this one, being an extra, cannot be in the play of the hand, and to score a Pique, he must get 30 in his hand, or in the play

of the hand. The claim as to the Capot being calculated to get a Pique, is simply preposterous, and would no more be thought of than the 10 for the cards. C replies, the 10 for the cards is not analogous, because if you only get 10, your opponent must have got something that prevents the 10 counting for the Pique. Decision.-C having counted in his hand and the play of his hand 30, before his adversary has counted anything, has made a Pique, and jumps from 30 to 60. He has also made a Capot, for which he counts 40. If C had made less than 30 in his hand and in its play, the 40 for the Capot could not have been counted so as to make up the requisite number for the Pique.

R. B. and S. R.-At the end of the hand it is found that A has an extra card. On examination, it appears that A has taken into his hand a 6 of Spades, with which he had been scoring after the cards were properly dealt. What is to be done? It is contended that A has played with 13 cards, and therefore can score nothing; on the other hand it is said the 6 is not a Piquet card, and that it is no more than a piece of blank paper, and that no penalty can lie for such a blunder; all that can be done is to play the cards over again. To this it is rejoined, the blunder was A's; he obtained an advantage by it. To play the cards over again gives him a better chance than he otherwise would have had, and the fault being his he should be punished for it. -Decision. No law provides for the above case, which can only be decided on general grounds of justice, and analogy with other laws. For the purposes of this case, the 6 of Spades is no more a card than if it were a dummy or a counter, which had slipped in among the cards, and A's adversary is not entirely without blame for not noticing the card when it was played. But inasmuch as at Piquet three or four cards are frequently thrown down at once, in order to save time, such blame as attaches to him is so trifling that it is not to be reckoned to his disadvantage. The justice of the case seems to be met by giving A's adversary the option of playing the hand afresh, or abiding by the result, as it had been played. If he elect the former, the 6 of Spades must of course be eliminated from the pack; if the latter, the surplus card in A's hand must be treated as having no name or value, but as taking the place of the § of Spades.