who would devote an hour to questions of this sort, who would not
care to listen five minutes to chess history or devote that time to
look at the finest game. In America, once, a most pertinacious
investigator, in for a very long sitting (not an interviewer with
his excellent bait and exquisite powers of incision but a genuine
home brew), was easily disposed of by the bare mention of the
words India, Persia, China, Chaturanga, Chatrang, Shatranji and
Chess Masterpieces.

This thirster after knowledge would have absorbed willingly
any account of Staunton's appearance and manners, his elevated
eyebrows and rolling forehead, Munchausen anecdotes, Havannah
cigars and tobacco plantations, Buckle's peculiarities, pedantic
and sarcastic Johnsonian's gold-headed walking stick, so often
lost yet always found, but once, and the frequent affinity between
his hat and the spittoon, the yet greater absence of mind of
Morphy and Paulsen and their only speeches, the gallantry, kid
gloves, lectures of Lowenthal and his bewilderment on the subject
of Charlemagne, the linguistic proficiency of Rosenthal, the chess
chivalry, bluntness extreme taciturnity, amorous nature and
extreme admiration for English female beauty, of Anderssen,
McDonnell's jokes and after dinner speeches, Boden's recollections,
Pickwickian and other quotations, and in fact little incidents
relative to most of the celebrated chess players, constantly flit
through the memory in social chat, which invariably seem to
entertain chess listeners whom a minute's conversation about the
history, science, or theory of the game would utterly fail to
please.

The early censurer of chess in the old Arabian manuscript who