The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 05, No. 32, June, 1860. Various

Franklin, Buckle, and many others of ability in every department of letters, philosophy, and art. We know of but one man of genius or learning—who has repudiated it,—Montaigne. "Or if he [Alexander] played at chess," says Montaigne, "what string of his soul was not touched by this idle and childish game? I hate and avoid it because it is not play enough,—that it is too grave and serious a diversion; and I am ashamed to lay out as much thought and study upon that as would serve to much better uses." Looked at simply as a diversion, chess might naturally impress a man of intellectual earnestness thus. It is not a diversion; a recreation it may be called, but only as any variation from "the shop" is recreative. But chess has, by the experiences of many, sufficiently proved itself to have serious uses to men of thought, and in the way of an intellectual gymnasium. It is to the limbs and sinews of the mind—prudence, foresight, memory, combination, analysis—just what a gymnasium is to the body. In it every muscle, every joint of the understanding is put under drill; and we know, that, where the mind does not have exercise for its body, but relics simply on idle cessation for its reinforcement, it will get too much lymph. Work is worship; but work without rest is idolatry. And rest is not, as some seem to think, a swoon, a slumber; it is an active receptivity, a masterly inactivity, which alone can deserve the fine name of Rest. Such, we believe, our favorite game secures better than all others. Besides this direct use, one who loves it finds many other incidental uses starting up about it,—such as made Archbishop Magnus, the learned historian of Sweden, say, "Anger, love, peevishness, covetousness, dulness, idleness, and many other passions and motions of the minds of men may be discovered by it."—But we promised not to vindicate chess, and shall leave this portion of our topic with the fine verse of the Oriental bard, Ibn ul Mûtazz:—

      "O thou whose cynic sneers express

      The censure of our favorite chess,

      Know that its skill is Science' self,

      Its play distraction from distress.

      It soothes the anxious lover's care;

      It weans the drunkard from excess;

      It counsels warriors in their art,

      When dangers threat and perils press;

      And yields us, when we need them most,

      Companions in our loneliness."3

      Now that the Persian poet has touched his lyre in our pages, we will not at once pass to any cold geographical or analytical realm of our subject, but pause awhile to cull some flowers of song which have sprung up on good English soil, which the feet of Caïssa have ever loved to press. No other games, and few other subjects, have gathered about them so rich a literature, or been intertwined with so much philological and historical lore. Not the least of this is to be found in the English classics, from which we propose to make one or two selections. We begin where English poetry begins, with Dan Chaucer; and from many beautiful conceits turning upon chess, we select one which must receive universal admiration. It is from the "Booke of the Duchesse."

      "My boldnesse is turned to shame,

      For false Fortune hath played a game

      At the Chesse with me.

      "At the Chesse with me she gan to play,

      With her false draughts full divers

      Sho stale on me, and toke my fers:4

      And when I sawe my fers away,

      Alas! I couth no longer play.

      "Therewith Fortune said,' Checke here,

      And mate in the mid point of the checkere

      With a paune errant.' Alas!

      Full craftier to play she was

      Than Athalus, that made the game

      First of the Chesse, so was his name."

      In the early part of the seventeenth century, Thomas Middleton wrote a comedy styled "A Game at Chess," which was acted at the Globe (Shakspeare's) nine times successively. It seems to have been a severe tirade on the religious aspects of the times. The stage directions are significant: for example:—Act I., Scene 1. Enter severally, in order of the game, the White and Black houses. Act II., Scene 1. Enter severally White Queen's Pawnes and Black Queen's Pawnes. The Prologue is as follows:—

      "What of the game called Chesse-play can be made

      To make a stage-play shall this day be played.

      First you shall see the men in order set,

      States, and their Pawnes, when both the sides are met;

      The houses well distinguished: in the game

      Some men entrapt, and taken to their shame,

      Bewarded by their play: and in the close

      You shall see checque-mate given to Virtue's foes.

      But the fair'st jewel that our hopes can decke

      Is so to play our game t'avoid your checke."

      The play excited indignation in the partisans of the Romish Church, and was not only suppressed by James I., but at the demand of the Queen its author was imprisoned, and was relieved only by a witty verse sent to the King.

      The last which we have room to quote is anonymous, and of date near 1632. It may have been written by the celebrated divine, Thomas Jackson, of Corpus-Christi College, whose discourse comparing the visible world to a "Devil's Chess-board" evidently suggested the familiar etching in which Satan contends with a youth for his soul. The lines are entitled:

THE PAWNE

      "A lowly one I saw,

      With aim fist high:

      Ne to the righte,

      Ne to the lefte

      Veering, he marchèd by his Lawe,

      The crested Knyghte passed by,

      And haughty surplice-vest,

      As onward toward his heste

      With patient step he prest,

      Soothfaste his eye:

      Now, lo! the last doore yieldeth,

      His hand a sceptre wieldeth,

      A crowne his forehead shieldeth!

      "So 'mergeth the true-hearted,

      With aim fixt high,

      From place obscure and lowly:

      Veereth he nought;

      His work he wroughte.

      How many loyall paths be trod,

      Soe many royall Crownes hath God!"

      It is very clear that the pawns in chess represent the common soldiers in battle. The Germans call them "peasants" (Bauern); the Hindoos call them Baul, or "powers" (in the sense of force); and that each of these, if he can pursue his file to its end, should win a crown has always given to this game a popular stamp. These pawns are doubtless, next to knights, the most interesting pieces on the board: Philidor called them "the soul of chess."

      At an early period Asiatic chess was divided into two branches,—known amongst players as Chinese and Indian. They are different games in many respects, and yet enough alike to show that they were at some period the same. The Chinese game maintains its place in Eastern Asia, Japan, etc.; in the islands of the Archipelago, and, with very slight modifications, throughout the civilized world, the Indian game is played. Indeed, there is no difference between Indian and European chess, except that in the former the Bishop is called Elephant,—the Rooks, Boats,—the Queen, Minister: the movements of the pieces are the same.

      Of Chinese chess some description will be more novel. Their chess-board, like ours, has sixty-four squares, which are not distinguished into alternate black and white squares. The pieces are not placed on the squares, but on the corners of the squares. The board is divided into two equal parts by an uncheckered space,