These movements, resulting as they appear to do, from mere mechanism, yet strongly impressed with the distinctive character of an intellectual guidance, have excited the admiration of the curious during a period little short of forty years. In that time various conjectures have been offered to the world as solutions of the problem; but no one, as far as I know, have attempted to imitate the movements, it is fair to conclude, either that the means proposed are inadequate to the end, or that the description of them is too imperfect to enable a workman to complete the machinery.

Automata may be divided into three classes—the simple—the compound—and the spurious.

The first class comprises those insulated Automata whose movements result from mechanism alone; by the aid of which they perform certain actions, and continue them, so long as the moving force is kept in an active state.

The second class includes those Automata, which, like the former, are moved by machinery; but, possessing at the same time a communication, not immediately apparent, with human agency, are enabled to change the regular order and succession of their movements, according to existing circumstances; and hence, in some measure, to assume the character of living beings.

The third class contains those Automata which, under the semblance only of mechanism, are wholly directed and controlled by a concealed human agent.


The phenomena of the Chess Player are inconsistent with the effects of mere mechanism; for, however great and surprising the powers of mechanism may be, the movements that spring from it, are necessarily limited and uniform: it cannot usurp and exercise the faculties of mind; it cannot be made to vary its operations, so as to meet the ever-varying circumstances of a game of chess. This is the province of intellect alone; and the Chess Player must consequently relinquish all claim to be admitted into the first division. Let us examine its title to be ranked in the second class.


The chess board contains sixty-four squares, and in order to execute the movements of the Chess Player, distinct trains of machinery must be formed, which shall be capable, when set in motion, of conveying the hand of the Automaton to each, and to any, of these several squares. Having arrived at a square, and taken up a chess man, it will be requisite, either to withdraw the hand towards the side, and without the limits of the board, for the purpose of letting drop the chess man there, and thence to proceed to another square, and remove a chess man to a third square; or it may be required to pass at once from the first square to any other on the board, and there to deposit the man. These movements must be promptly performed, and repeated as often as the circumstances of the game may call for them.

Setting aside a great variety of minor details, it will be evident to any person, even slightly acquainted with mechanics, that the execution of these movements, so extensive, so complicated, and so variable, would be attended with difficulties almost insurmountable; but we will suppose for a moment that these obstacles are overcome; let it be conceded that a machine has been constructed so perfect, that, on giving motion to the respective trains, the required movement shall be instantly performed. What then? The main object will be still unattained! Where is the intelligence and the “promethean heat” that can animate the Automaton and direct its operations? Not only must an intellectual agent be provided, but between such an agent and his deputy, the Automaton, a direct communication must be formed and preserved, liable to no interruption, and yet so secret that the penetrating eye of the most inquisitive observer may not be able to detect it. Till this be done, the Chess Player’s title to be admitted into the second division will, at any rate, continue in abeyance.