His vaine expenses daily sucke and soake,

And he himself suckes only drinke and smoake.

And thus the Prodigall, himselfe alone,

Gives sucke to thousands, and himself sucks none." [195]

In an edition of 'The Compleat Gamester' of 1709, it is said that the game of Whist is so called from the silence that is to be observed in the play; and Dr. Johnson, from the manner in which he explains the term, seems to have favoured this opinion: "Whist, a game at cards, requiring close attention and silence." [196] The name, however, appears more likely to have been a corruption of the older one of Whisk. As the game of Whisk and Swabbers was nearly the same as that of the still older one of Ruff and Honours, it would seem that the two former terms were merely the ludicrous synonyms of the latter,—introduced perhaps about the time that Ruffs were going out of fashion, and when the Honours represented by the coat cards were at a discount. The fact that a game, so interesting in itself, should be so slighted, as it was, by the higher orders, from the reign of Charles II to that of George II, would seem to intimate that they were well aware of the ridicule intended to be conveyed by its popular name of Whisk and Swabbers. Looking at the conjunction of these terms, and considering their primary meaning, [197] there can scarcely be a doubt that the former was the original of Whist, the name under which the game subsequently obtained an introduction to fashionable society, the Swabbers having been deposed and the Honours restored.

In playing the game, Swabbers seem to have signified either the Honours, or the points gained through holding them. At the older game of Ruff and Honours, Ruff signified the Trump. It would appear that when the Ruff was called a Whisk, in ridicule of the Ruff proper, the Honours, or points gained through them were, "in concatenation accordingly, designated Swabbers." In the present day, a Parisian tailor calls, facetiously, the shirt-ruffle of a shopmate a damping clout; and Philip Stubbes, in his 'Anatomie of Abuses,' 1583, thus speaks of the ruffs of the gallants of his time: "Thei have great and monsterous ruffes, made either of cambricke, holland, lawne, or els of some other the finest cloth that can be got for money, whereof some be a quarter of a yarde deepe, yea some more, very few lesse: so that thei stande a full quarter of a yarde (and more) from their necks, hanging over their shoulder points instead of a vaile. But if Æolus with his blasts, or Neptune with his stormes, chaunce to hit upon the crasie barke of their bruised ruffes, then they goeth flip-flap in the winde, like ragges that flew abroode, lying upon their shoulders like the dishcloute of a slut."

In the reign of Queen Anne, card-playing seems to have attained its full tide in every part of civilized Europe. In England, in particular, it was at once fashionable and popular; Ombre was the favorite game of the ladies; and Piquet of the gentlemen, par excellence; clergymen and country squires rubbed on at Whist; and the lower orders shuffled away at All-Fours, Put, Cribbage, and Lanterloo. Subsequently some of the games may have been more diligently studied, and the chances more nicely calculated "on principles," but at no other time, either before or since, was card-playing more prevalent amongst people of all classes. The more pious indeed did their best to discourage the general passion for play; but their dissuasions appear to have produced but little effect; as indeed might be expected at a period when one of the first statesmen of the time piqued himself rather on his skill in gaming than on his political reputation, and when kind landlords, of the Sir Roger de Coverley school, used to send a string of hog's puddings and a pack of cards as a Christmas gift to every poor family in the parish. [198] The character of the statesman alluded to—Lord Godolphin, who died 1712, [199]—is thus sketched by Pope in his first Moral Epistle:

"Who would not praise Patricio's high desert,

His hand unstained, his uncorrupted heart,

His comprehensive head! all interests weighed,