rably adapted for a social family game, being, like backgammon, a mixture of skill and chance-the choice of the move being greatly restricted by the turn of the die. Whoever is already in possession of two sets of common chessmen-one of wood, and another of bone or ivorymay easily convert the same into two complete sets for the Chaturanga, in this wise, the wooden set will furnish the King, Rook, Knight and Bishop, together with their Pawns, for the Yellow and the Black; whilst those of bone or ivory will furnish the armies of Red and Green— or, instead of Green, White will do equally well. Thus we have got one set for the Chaturanga, but the convenience of it is that we have still another set in reserve, by making the four Queens, who never had any place in either of the Oriental games, whether Chaturanga or Shatranj, act the part of Kings. As to the die, nothing can be easier; any ivory turner may make it by slightly rounding the two faces of the common cubic die, now marked six and ace respectively; or, in fact, a common teetotum with the numbers two, three, four and five marked thereon, will be quite sufficient. The board and men being thus prepared, I shall suppose myself addressing the player of the Green (or White, as the case may be,) with a view to inculcate, in the simplest manner, the principles of the game, as far as my imperfect knowledge of it extends.

"Your main object is, in the first place, to convey your two centre Pawns to the opposite ends of the board, in order that they may be promoted to the rank of Knight or Rook, which will nearly double your strength. Another object, of equal, if not superior, importance, is to convey your King, by a series of careful moves, to the square of the Black King, your trustworthy ally. This gives you the command of the allied forces, which now become identified with your own, and your power is there

by vastly increased, owing to the entire unity of action which will thenceforth prevail in your camp; a point of the utmost consequence in warfare. In the meanwhile,

you are to avail yourself of every safe opportunity in order to damage or exterminate the hostile forces; and this, for your own sake, if not for that of your ally; for, as I already mentioned, the alliance in this case is not altogether free from selfishness. Having gained your ally's throne, and consequently the command of his forces, the main point then is to capture the hostile Kings, thus, gaining the Chaturājī, or, in other words, completely winning the game."

These appear to me to be the general principles of the game of Chaturanga; but, as I have already stated, there are a number of minor points, not touched upon in the text, which are open to mere conjecture; at the same time, it is my belief, that if four intelligent Chessplayers were to play over, and carefully observe a few of these primitive games, they would soon be able to provide fixed laws for every contingency that might occur. The points I allude to do not in the least affect the nature of the game, which is simply Chess in its oldest and rudest form. They are mere matters of detail, which the ancient poet (supposed to have been Vyasa himself) did not deem it necessary, or becoming his high dignity, to enter upon. I may here mention a few of those doubtful points, and I have reason to believe that several others may present themselves in the course of play.

Cases of Uncertainty.

In the first place, we shall suppose a player on his first throw turns up four; the text says, in such case, "the Elephant must move." Now we see clearly that

The question is,

the Elephant cannot, just then, move. what was to be done? Was the throw forfeited, as is sometimes the case at backgammon; or was it allowed in such case to move the Elephant's Pawn instead? Again, suppose a player, for his first move; has pushed Elephant's Pawn one square, and on his second move the die turns up two, in which case the Ship ought to move -what is he then to do? The Ship's path is clearly blocked up by the Elephant's Pawn. Perhaps the simplest mode of settling all such contingencies is, to suppose that the throw went for nothing, and passed on to the next player, as happens in backgammon, when " you cannot enter." Another query presents itself thus: What became of the King's Pawn and Ship's Pawn on reaching the opposite extremity of the board? Was their career then finished? or were they allowed a minor sort of promotion, like the farzin, in the Persian game? We have seen that a Pawn reaching the Elephant's square or the Knight's square, became an Elephant or Knight accordingly; and as the book says nothing about the original Elephant or Knight having been previously removed, we are left to infer that they immediately received their promotion; and consequently each of the four players must have been furnished with a spare Elephant and Knight to meet such favourable conjunctures. With regard to the King's Pawn and Ship's Pawn, I think we may venture to infer that they attained the rank of King, but only in those cases where the latter may have been already captured, not otherwise. According to Oriental notions, "two kings in one kingdom are inadmissible;" and the promoting of the Ship's Pawn into a Ship would be an absurdity as it would have to run on the precise path of a hostile ship. We have seen already that in the case of the situation called Gādhāvați the Pawn was unrestricted

as to the rank it assumed; we may infer then that it became a King, Rook or Knight, according to circumstances.

All these, and some others I might add, are minor points, on which I do not despair of obtaining clear specific information in the course of time, from India, where the game is, no doubt, still cherished among the Brahmans. Radha Kant told Sir William Jones, seventy to eighty years ago, "that the Brahmans of Gaur, or Bengal, were once celebrated for superior skill in this game; and that his father, together with his spiritual preceptor, Jagannath, then living at Tribeni, had instructed two young Brahmans in all the rules of it, and had sent them to Jayanagar, at the request of the late Rājā, who had liberally rewarded them." Since the days of Sir William Jones a great change has taken place in India. Many of the higher classes of Hindus are now well versed in English literature; and, by consequence, readers of our new publications. Should these unaided and necessarily imperfect efforts of mine meet the notice of any such, I trust they will kindly communicate to me any further information they may possess on the subject. It is not to be for a moment supposed that the Brahmans of the present day have altogether lost sight of the very ancient and national game of Chaturanga, although our modern European game, at which they are proficients, may have gradually diminished their interest in the former, as the Shatranj, or mediæval game, must have done to a great extent, many centuries previously.

In the preceding chapter I have taken the liberty to point out freely the errors into which Sir William Jones has fallen-errors which arose partly from his imperfect acquaintance at that period with the Sanskrit language,

Asiatic Researches, 8vo. London, 1801, p. 161.

but chiefly from his having been very little versed in the history and practice of the game of Chess. Sir William entirely misunderstood the description of the simple and primitive Chaturanga, which, in consequence, he considers to be "more complex and more modern than the simple Chess of the Persians." Above all, he was himself misled by a strange paradox, savouring infinitely more of the poet than the philosopher. He states, in his discourse delivered to the Asiatic Society of Bengal, about 1788, “The beautiful simplicity and extreme perfection of the game, as it is commonly played in Europe and Asia, convince me that it was invented by one effort of some great genius-not completed by gradual improvements; but formed, to use the phrase of Italian critics, by the first intention."

In a paper more recently written on the same subject, in the "Asiatic Researches," vol. vii. page 481, by Captain Hiram Cox, the latter very justly remarks on the above passage:-"But it appears to me, that all he (Sir William Jones) afterwards adduces on the subject is so far from corroborating, that it is in direct contradiction of this opinion; and I trust my further combating it will neither be deemed impertinent nor invidious. The errors of a great mind are, of all others, the most material to be guarded against; and Sir William himself, had he lived to reconsider the subject, I am sure would have been the first to expunge a passage of so unqualified construction. Perfection has been denied us, undoubtedly for wise purposes; and progression is necessary to the happiness of our existence. No human invention is so perfect but it may be improved; and no one is, or has been, so great, but another may be greater."

Sir William Jones's mistake arose simply from the circumstance of his not being aware that the so-called