ral. This is a far more appropriate name than that of queen, which is said to have been bestowed upon the piece by the gallantry of European chess players. If we might hazard a conjecture, we should say that the title of queen has been adopted on account of the proximate locality of the king. Such changes grow up imperceptibly, just as the term castle has nearly superseded that of rook. The English name of rook is supposed to be derived from rocca, (citadel) the Italian name. of the piece. This piece, in Russia and in India, is made in the form of a ship, but possesses the same powers as our rook. The knight sufficiently explains his own name. Pawn comes from the French pion, in Italian, pedina, or pedone; which is itself derived from a barbarous Latin word signifying foot soldier. As for the bishop, he seems to puzzle every one to trace his origin. It is supposed that the game of chess was introduced into Europe by the crusaders. The first account we have of it in England is in 1474, during the reign of Edward IV., when Caxton published a treatise, entitled "The Game of Chess ;" from which it appears that it was by no means an uncommon game there at that early period. Damiano published a work on chess, at Rome, in 1521. This is the oldest work extant of any value. Many of the openings of games by him are still considered as incapable of any improvement; and his "remarkable situations," are sullicient proof of his extraordinary skill. He played several games blindfolded. After Damiano, Rui Lopez published another treatise on the same subject. He was followed by Jerome, Paoli Boi, Lionardo Salvio, Carrera, Greco, Stamma, the anonymous Modenese, Philidor and Sarratt. Most of these added considerably to the stock of information contained in the works of their predecessors. We have thus sketched, as briefly as possible, an outline of the history of the game of chess, and there now remains for us only to give some account of the automaton chess player of which every body has heard something, and nobody appears to know much. In the year 1769 a Mr. Wolfgang de Kempelin, a Hungarian by birth, constructed a piece of mechanism, in the form of a man, dressed in the Turkish costume, and seated at a table, with a chessboard upon it. Here this automaton, without any human agency, plays the game so skilfully, that, from the day of his creation to the present, he has never been beaten but three times, though often opposed to the best players in Europe. The impossibility of mere mechanism's exercising volition and judgment, has produced a thousand conjectures as to the nature of the primum mobile of this machine. We ought to mention that the table, at which the figure is seated, is about three feet square and boxed up on all sides. This table, upon which the board is delineated, is attached to the figure, and the whole is placed on castors. When he is brought into the room he plays in any part of it at the option of the company. We shall take the liberty of copying a short description of an examination of the interior of the machine, from a writer who visited the automaton with the avowed intention of making, if possible, some discoveries. "From a door in a canvas screen, the automaton and commode (the table) were wheeled out at the time appointed, and the figure was made to face the company. Then the interior chamber of the commode, (occupying about one-third of its dimensions,) was opened before and behind, when a taper was held by the proprietor, in such a situation as to throw a full light through the machinery, that occupied this part of it. He now closed and locked the doors of this chamber, opened the drawer and took out the men and cushion; after which, he opened the large chamber of the commode in front, and put the taper through the front door within it. About one eighth of this chamber was occupied by machinery; the rest was a perfect cavity lined with green baize. He now shut and locked these doors; then wheeled the commode round, opened and took up the drapery of the figure and exhibited the body, partly occupied by machinery and partly with imperfect imitations of the prominent parts to the shoulders. The drapery was then carefully pulled down, and the figure wheeled round again to front the spectators, before whom it played a masterly and successful game. The conviction of the writer and his friends present was, that the concealment of a small thin boy or dwarf was barely possible. The large chamber would contain him, and that chamber never was opened from behind, nor at the same time that the back of the figure was exposed." In our opinion, this solution only relieves us from one improbability to involves us in another. For it is just as contrary to the nature of things to suppose that a small thin boy could be taught to beat the best chess players in Europe, as it is to suppose that intellectual powers could be communicated to mere machinery. Fifty years have now elapsed since the invention of this automaton, and is it not absurd to suppose the existence of a succession of small thin boys' or even dwarfs, who possess such admirable skill, and whom nobody ever saw; for it is not even pretended that any one has ever seen this boy or dwarf? Passing over, then, all speculation on this mystery, without even a conjecture; which, at this distance, and with our limited knowledge would be idle and presumptuous, we will endeavor to give some account of the automaton's manner of playing. He rests his right arm, which holds his pipe, on á cushion and plays with his left hand; owing, as Mr. Kempelin says, to inadvertence in the construction. Formerly players were seated at the same table with the figure, but owing to occasional inattention, the pieces were not placed in the exact centre of the squares by the player, and in consequence the delicate mechanism of the fingers was considerably injured. At present, a separate board is provided, the proprietor officiating to note the player's moves on the automaton's board, and the automaton's moves on the player's board. The automaton never hesitates, The instant after his antagonist makes his move he makes his own. While a player is deliberating, the proprietor always walks the room. His countenance expresses the most intense thought; but this may be a piece of deception on his part. In reply to a question put to him by a friend of ours as to the number of games he had ever lost, he said "Three-of these I was beaten two successively at Vienna the same evening, but I had a violent headache." It would seem from this reply, that he made no secret of his own agency in the game, but how he exercised it our ingenious informant was utterly unable to conjecture. The automaton gives the king's bishops pawn, and the move, and not content with this, moves his king's pawn only one square. These disadvantages, we should suppose, were overwhelming; but notwithstanding these, he has always won or drawn the game, except in the three solitary instances abovementioned. We have seen a work which contained fifty games actually played by this figure, but it is difficult to appreciate the real excellence of his game in consequence of the indifferent play of his antagonists. But it is time to leave this wonder-making piece of mechanism to speak of other players. Among the players of the last century, there is no doubt that Philidor was the best. His games, however, although the results of admirable foresight and circumspection, are by no means free from imperfections. In 1749 he published his "Analysis of Chess," in which he condemned the two following moves: the playing of the king's knight to the bishop's third square at the second move; or instead of that, the queen's bishop's pawn one square. "Either of these moves," says Philidor, "is a very bad play for him who has the first move, as he loses the attack in consequence of it." Philidor also directs, when the king's pawn is attacked (in certain cases) to support it with the queen's pawn, and gives several games to prove his principles. These, however, have been since very skilfully analyzed by Sarratt, the author of the work before us, and late President of the London Chess Club. In a volume published in 1808, Sarratt has satisfactorily demonstrated that these maxims of Philidor are incorrect. As to the relative merits of Sarratt and Philidor as players, it seems difficult to decide. Perhaps the proper distinction would be that the former was the most brilliant, and the latter the most sagacious. With regard to the intrinsic value of their works to students, we have no hesitation in assigning the palm to Sarratt, for the following reasons. Philidor's games are tedious, often exceeding forty or fifty moves, while Sarratt's seldom exceed ten or a dozen; consequently, the same degree of attention is better rewarded. Philidor excels in the management of his pawns, Sarratt in that of his pieces, which of course affords greater opportunity for brilliant strokes than the pawn games can possibly do. Sarratt's game is decided generally in half a dozen moves, which enables the learner to retain them readily, and practice them constantly. On the whole, we may perhaps say, that Sarratt is the work best adapted to junior, and Philidor to senior players. Having spoken thus in general terms favorably of Sarratt's work, we shall conclude by noticing a few of his defects. In the first game* the author undertakes to demonstrate that the third move of the black is a bad one, and entails the loss of the game. Accordingly at the twelfth move the white has gained a piece and an advantageous situation. Here the game is left for the player to finish, with the remark, "the white will win the game whether the black exchange queens or not." This is true enough in the twelfth situation, but by retracing our steps to the tenth move we shall find, that if the black, instead of making the move directed in the book, checks with his rook, he will have, at least, as good a game as the white, and even better, taking the chance of ordinary play. This game has retained its place unchallenged in every edition of this work from 1808 until 1822. Again, when at the second move, the two king's pawns being played first, the king's knight attacks the pawn, Philidor directs the queen's pawn to move to its support, but Sarratt says this is bad play, and moves the queen's knight. This appears to be a good defence, though it must be acknowledged that the first player can, by attacking it with his king's bishop, force the doublings of a pawn; but we are not prepared to say that any advantage is gained by this. The attempt to show that Philidor's defence * We number the games as they are placed in the edition of 1822. with the queen's pawn is a vicious one, is not satisfactory; the player is left at the tenth move in a complicated game which we suspect Professor Sarratt found himself unable to manage with effect. In many of the games the loser is supposed to make two, and even three bad moves in the course of the same game; this is a paltry expedient, totally beneath a great player. Many of his "critical situations" are extremely ingenious, but others have nothing to recommend them. In the seventysecond, the white is told that by a scientific move he may draw the game; now this scientific move is precisely the one that any player of common proficiency would make. The seventy-third could not be played wrong. We close this article by extracting one of the remarkable situations of the pieces, as a specimen of this department of Sarratt's work, and as an exercise for the ingenuity of those who do not possess the book. King, at adverse King's Bishop's King at his Rook's square. third square. Queen's Bishop, at adverse Queen's White pawn to checkmate in four Bishop's fourth square. King's Knight's pawn, at adverse Knight's fourth square. moves. DIGRESSIONS. Part I. No. III. I. Ralph Morris then-I've made choice of this name, Not that I've any very special reason; Any dissyllable were quite the same; II. I wanted one which should at the same time Be euphonous and brief, and quite uncommon, To which I might occasionally rhyme, Without offence to either man or woman; |