May 25, 1883.] 



KNOWLEDGE 



313 



I AM a lover of chess, but I must confess I find the 

 International Chess Tournament a melancholy sight. To 

 see fourteen men, most of whom have obviously good 

 brains, looking hour after hour at the checquered board — • 

 waiting sometimes many minutes, and occasionally a full 

 hour, to decide whether to move this piece or that pawn — 

 is depressing, to say the least The results may be very 

 fine games. But even to a Steinitz or a Zukertort one of 

 these masterpieces requires many hours' study for its full 

 appreciation ; and the amateur, even though a strong 

 one, who sits down to play one of these games, under 

 the impression that he can understand its beauty in less 

 time than two " past masters " in chess took to play it, is 

 grievously mistaken. Our Whist Column yields for awhile 

 to these chess masterpieces and their skilful analysis by the 

 deep ilephisto ; but only the most ardent lover of chess can 

 get real pleasure from the study of games so profoundly 

 studied by the players themselves. 



I LIKE to flatter myself I am a chess-player of strength. 

 It is a pleasing delusion easily knocked on the head I 

 give a weakling a queen, and amaze myself by the clever- 

 ness of the combinations by which I defeat him ; but nine 

 out of ten of them are unsound. I play with the same 

 weakling, even, and am amazed at the stupidity of the 

 blunders by which I bring awful odds against me, and 

 perhaps get beaten. It is a pleasing lesson, again, to sit 

 down to chess with one whom you expect to beat easily, 

 and to find your dashing play met by a quiet but efi'cctive 

 resistance. Chess is a game which men play, I think, very 

 unevenly, unless they become professionals, when you can 

 generally tell pretty well what their strength is. At least, 

 it is so with me. Most amateurs take some warming-up to 

 play respectably, and slight distractions will make a 

 knight's difference in their strength. I fancy the profes- 

 sional's strength does not vary this way. 



This brings luck into the game not a little. I have had 

 good luck in the few games I have played with known 

 chess-players. I played two games (only), and won them 

 both, with Goldsmith, who for two years was the champion 

 player at Melbourne, at a time when Wisker (who had 

 divided with Bird the championship of England) scarcely 

 held his own against Australian players. But I expect 

 that in a set match I would have had as much chance 

 against Goldsmith or Wisker as I should now have against 

 a Steinitz or a Zukertort. 



The question which suggests itself, when one is looking 

 on at a chess tournament between professionals, is, Can 

 chess be regarded as worth studying till a man plays his 

 best possil)le game ? But then the same question applies 

 to all games of skill. Who can do his best at cricket, 

 rowing, whist, draughts, billiards, or any other game without 

 sacrificing much more time and energy to it than a man 

 ■with brains can reasonably spare from the work of life 1 



The moral seems to be not only that such games should 

 be used for relaxation only, but that men of sense should 

 earnestly study to keep such games in their true position. 

 When a man gives more time to them than they deserve, 

 he either shows weakness or fitness for nothing worthier. 



Ax incredible thing ! Application is made to rae to 

 subscribe for cuttings from all the newspapers and 

 periodicals, " at the rate of 5s. for twenty notices, payable 



in advance, 3d. each notice ! " Imagine jmying to get 

 these things sent to one, as if they did not stream in, "free, 

 gratis, for nothing," till one is disposed to charter a special 

 dust-cart for their removal I have no reason to complain. 

 The anonymuncules of the press have treated me verj' 

 kindly — only one in ten or twelve, perhaps, making a mild 

 attempt at a sting. But does any one in his senses want 

 to collect such things 1 It seems some folks do. The 

 London Society for the Abolition of Compulsory "Vacci- 

 nation subscribes ; so does the Editor of the World; the 

 JIarchioness of Lome receives cuttings ; and so does the 

 Salvation Army. There are many other " clients who con- 

 tinue to patronise the ' Artistic and Literary Corre- 

 spondence.' " But to most of us cuttings, whether cutting 

 or otherwise, are things to be avoided. One's publishers 

 send enough of them ; or extract from a few the few lines 

 of vague praise which are wanted for advertising purposes. 

 But I never came across any of the " 2,000 among the 

 first in the artistic and literary world " who are stated to 

 be among the clients of the Artistic and Literary Corre- 

 spondence. I should picture a client of this sort somewhat 

 as John Leech pictured the person who rejoiced in hearing 

 organ-grinders, — as a harmless but hopeless imbecile. 

 Perhaps the 2,000 have already retired for the most part 

 to their natural home in the neighbourhood of Earlswood. 



When I was but a very young beginner in literary work, 

 books used to bo sent to me for review. I learned then 

 something of the generosity with which such work is re- 

 warded — the reason why it is done so well. I remember a 

 wealthy Scottish publisher, who had recently started a 

 weekly journal of science, sending me a thick octavo 

 volume of about 500 pages for review — -" about a quarter 

 of a column, and the book to be returned." In other 

 words, I was to examine and honestly criticise in a quarter 

 of a column, for 2s. Gd. (or, to be more precise, 2s. 7Jd.), 

 a book of that size, and to return tlie book. Why, the 

 mere time occupied in untying and retying the book in 

 brown paper, and writing the generous publisher's name 

 and address, would have been ill-paid at the price. 



Charles Reade is awfully hard on the criticasters and 

 anonymuncules of the Press, — but he should put some of 

 the blame on those who employ them and practically com- 

 pel them to be dishonest or to drop the work. The noble 

 critic who said in the Globe that " Griffith Gaunt" was stated 

 to be an immoral work, but " on this point, having vainly 

 attempted to read it, he ofl'ered no opinion," may not have 

 been so bad as he seemed. True, the book is one which a 

 man vainly attempts not to read, when he has once begun 

 it. (I remember how grievously "Griffith Gaunt " wronged 

 me, when years ago I first read it ; I thought I had occu- 

 pation for my leisure hours during three or four days at 

 least ; but. Blame the book — to use a favourite oath of 

 an old schoolmaster of mine — it left me no leisure till I 

 had read to the last page, in a third of the time.) And 

 the book encourages immorality about as much as 

 " ilacbeth " encourages murder. But if a man, with 

 perhaps a family, has to review a Ijook in the twentieth 

 part of a column, for twopence halfpenny a line, might he 

 not vainly attempt to read itl That critic was, perhaps, 

 a poor but honest fellow, misunderstood by the great 

 novelist. 



The " Artistic and Literary Correspondence " makes me 

 a present of one notice (price 3d. according to tariff) of my 

 little book, " Mysteries of Time and Space," from the 

 Glaggov} Herald, in such villainous English that even its 



